#twisting them around like a rubix cube

[loosescrewslefty]

Screaming, crying and OBSESSING over the way Anya and Demetrius are on opposite sides of the Neurodivergent scale and also far more similar to one another than either one realizes. More than any other character we've seen so far, it feels like these two are Yin and Yang, opposite sides of the same coin.

Demetrius easily absorbs facts, figures, and other information that follows a set pattern. But people confuse and frustrate him, and he deals with that by not dealing with it. Anya has the ability to understand more about strangers she passes on the street than people who see them regularly ever could, but traditional academics can overwhelm her so she is resistant to studying. And yet both of them are othered and seen as abnormal by everyone around them, building a wall between them and their peers that they both find difficult to overcome.

Anya tries to fit in through masking, pretending as hard as she can to be normal (with limited success) but Demetrius has given up after going so long without anyone helping him better understand others which leads to him disassociating in social situations as a self defense mechanism, to get in and out as quickly and painlessly as possible while telling himself it doesn't matter.

Except it does.

Demetrius didn't need to ask about Damian's stella. But he did. Because he wants to find some sort of common ground with his brother even as he reassures himself that it doesn't matter and he doesn't care. He doesn't pick up on the fact that this makes Damian feel self conscious, that he's comparing his one stella to Demetrius' six and worried their father will love him less for not being as successful. Demetrius doesn't understand how the subject switched to Donovan at all, and shuts down hard when their father is mentioned. Just like he did when Damian called and asked him to be a bridge between them way back when.

(Demetrius warning Damian not to get his hopes up about Donovan coming to meet him also conflicts with his internal dialog about how the people around him don't matter and he doesn't need to care about understanding them. If it actually doesn't matter to him, then he wouldn't care if Donovan blew Damian off.)

Circling back to the original thought though, I desperately hope that we're going to get Demetrius and Anya interacting directly with one another at some point in the future because I have a feeling that Anya's blunt, child-like nature will lead to her just directly telling Demetrius the things that are eluding him when he interacts with others, demystifying all the unspoken social cues he's supposed to yet cannot intuit for the first time in his life. And he is going to be in awe of this child for her ability to not only understand others, but translate for him when he cannot grasp whatever it is they are trying and failing to say to him.

Demetrius could appreciate Anya's abilities, rather than being afraid of or disturbed by them. And they could both understand the feeling of not fitting in with the crowd. Of knowing that others regard them with fear and contempt, or want to use the things that make them different for their own purposes and treat them like they are just a tool instead of a person. The potential is there for a very interesting platonic relationship between two kids who have spent their whole lives feeling like their differences alienated them from everyone else in their life, and in Anya's case a fear that the discovery of that difference would lead to her losing the love of everyone important to her in her life.

#spy x family #anya forger #damian desmond #demetrius desmond #spy x family manga #spy x family manga spoilers #sxf #sxf manga spoilers #twisting them around like a rubix cube

[m1d-45]

While I draw the Brib (and struggle, since I've never drawn birds before), here's another Birb Xiao Idea: Angst Edition! What would happen if Zhongli realized that Xiao isn't with the traveler but is instead with the imposter he's supposed to hunt down? I can only imagine how conflicted Zhongli would feel. Does he follow his god, the one he follows with his whole being, or does he trust his friend, who he trusts more than any other?

-sibling anon, who is still twisting and turning this idea around like a rubix cube

oooooo good ideas good ideas

he’d probably hear it from one of the adepti, probably one of them noticing his bird form flying with a qingxin flower in his beak. i’m picturing moon carver (mostly because cloud retainer would just kick down the metaphorical door and barge in) watching from afar, feeling a mix of confusion and irritation.

irritation, because xiao is supposed to be helping hunt the imposter, supposed to be dragging you in for arrest and slaughter, not exposing himself to you in his most vulnerable state. not pretending to be nothing more than a mere songbird within your cupped palms.

confusion, because xiao surely knows all of that, and moon carver knows xiao isn’t an idiot. he knows there must have to be a reasoning for this, but… he can’t figure out why.

(there’s a third feeling swirling in his chest, one he doesn’t dare identify. he’s not willing to be marked a heretic, not yet.)

so he sends a letter via ganyu to morax, the one he knows knows best.

…the one who doesn’t know what to do.

the letter is passed to the ministry of civil affairs, from there to a simple millelith soldier, from there to ferry lady at the funeral parlor and from there to a small, unused tray on zhongli’s desk. he cuts open the simple seal with a blade of lapis and sits, quickly realizing he’s been outmatched.

he, like moon carver, knows xiao. there had to be a logic behind his actions, a reason for keeping you a secret, for never presenting himself as an adeptus, for never telling him of his findings.

if you were the fake, he’d have no reason to keep up the ruse. if you were anything else (his mind cried with the song of a setting sun, solemn understanding warring selfish perpetuation) then he’d have no reason not to alert him, to bring you the reparations you deserved.

whatever the case… xiao had done something wrong.

the only issue was that one situation warranted a far more severe punishment.

.

#m1d : [chats] #m1d : [secrets] #sibling anon #bird!xiao shenanigans #you n me n these rubix cube thoughts #only i’ve never been able to solve a rubix cube. #… #yeah

[itztim3todi3]

ʀᴏᴀᴅᴛʀɪᴘꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

Just some road trip headcanons of some characters! Reader is gn/not specified

Requests | Open (read rules on pinned first)

Fandoms | Jujutsu Kaisen, Twisted Wonderland, One Piece, and Spy x Family

Platonic or Romantic? | Can be either, except for Anyas, hers is platonic only

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴊɪ (ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ)

Hes the one in the back of the car with all the snacks and drinks

Asks for certain songs or suggests songs and then sings loudly and off-tune for the rest of the trip

He eats and eats and eats

The one who has to use the restroom first right after leaving a gas station so know you're in the middle of nowhere lol

He likes to play eye spy, card games, thumb wars, etc. games that you can play in the car

He somehow backs his Jeniffer Lorance poster?? He takes it out and shoves it against the window, talking to it and ‘showing’ it the nature

He doesn't get bored, hes talking, telling stories, asking questions, etc.

He barely stops talking, but to get him to shut up just shove some food in his mouth or give him a 1 player game he can fixate on

He sleeps during the last hour or two before you arrive at your destination

And then is groggy when getting out so hold onto him as you walk around for a few minutes before he fully wakes up

ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ (ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀꜱɪᴇɴ)

Hes probably driving the car or sitting in the passenger seat

Hes controlling the music for the first few songs before passing it off to you or the kids in the back

Hes relatively quiet and prefers it being that way but understands that someone is going to talk to him sooner or later

He'll talk, answer questions, play games that aren't too distracting if he driving, etc.

He'll do it for your or the person's entertainment just so they'll leave him alone once they get bored

The type of person that buys enough snacks for the whole road trip so you don't have to stop and buy something along the way

Hes got a few cups of coffee in the car somewhere to keep himself awake and alert, as well as just help him keep calm from the kids in the back

Hes downloaded videos, shows, offline games, etc. beforehand for himself, the kids in the back, and anyone who wants that stuff

ᴅᴇᴜᴄᴇ ꜱᴘᴀᴅᴇ (ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ)

The best person to go on a road trip with

He likes to sit in the back and just talk, look out the window, etc. calming things

He brings all the good games and downloads all the amazing shows and movies

Hes got snacks and drinks in his backpack

Hes got everything in there, it somehow all fits we don't know how it's like an endless void in there

Hes got stim toys, books, drawing stuff, and so much more just to keep himself distracted and for anyone else really

He likes to fixate on the stim toys, his hands pushing and rubbing the buttons on the cube, or his mind working on trying to solve the Rubix cube

Hes quiet with the few conversations but hes mostly focused on the toys in his hand

Hes literally baby and we love him <3

ᴢᴏʀᴏ ʀᴏʀᴏɴᴏᴀ (ᴏɴᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ)

Don't let this boy drive you'll get lost on the highway somehow and end up halfway across the world from your destination

He doesn't really bring anything besides drinks for himself

He doesn't even have a backpack it's just an armful of drinks he keeps in the seat next to him or on the floor

Put him in the back pls, it'll be the best decision for everyone

He snores so fucking loud, it overpowers the music that's playing

He falls asleep about 30 minutes into the trip lol hes out like a light not even enjoying the view outside

He does ask if you're there yet when he wakes up from his sleep, or how much longer

Hes also another one who needs to go to the bathroom right after you leave the gas station :/

Then again it could be because hes asleep when its break time and no one can wake him up

And then right as your in the road again hes up and says he has to go to the bathroom

ᴀɴʏᴀ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇʀ (ꜱᴘʏ x ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ)

She gets bored pretty easily and likes to color in the car

Make sure to bring extra coloring books for her cause she will finish at least 2 of them

Snacks snacks snacks

Peanuts peanuts peanuts

That's all that's in the backpack she brought, she's carrying the coloring stuff

She brought her a few plushies and plays with them, or talks to them, telling them how pretty the view is, that she's hungry, etc.

She likes to imagine something running outside like we all used to do, whether it be a superhero or a wolf, shell giggle and cheers it on

She's a child she's going to need regular bathroom breaks and ask for more snacks and a drink when you do stop

She falls asleep during the last few hours as well, you're going to have to carry her out of the car or gently wake her up and then carry her

She's pretty fun entertainment and very good at keeping things interesting so she is actually really good to go on a road trip with

#zt.writes.shit #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk x male reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuji headcanons #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuuji fluff #nanami fluff #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento hc #nanami kento headcanons #twst x reader #twst x male reader #twst headcanons #deuce spade x mc #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade x male reader #deuce spade headcanons #one piece x you #one piece x male reader #zoro x reader #zoro headcanons #spy family headcanons #spy family x reader

[kyskaisen]

reflections; maki x reader

:as long as your back is turned to us

:master list

Gojo felt what Maki was going through.

He felt the same loneliness she felt in her chest, the feeling of her heart sinking into the abyss created by your absence—the same one he felt when he lost his one and only. He felt the misery of getting herself out of bed, to be met with the daybreak that reminds her of her solitude. Her eyes don't carry the same fiery twinge in them. The fire went out a while ago, but it's still painful to see the dullness in her gaze.

He gets it, even though she doesn't want him to say it out loud simply because of the corniness.

He sees himself in Maki. The way she walks like she has a ghost over her shoulder. She doesn't yet—but she will, soon enough. He knows, she will be the one to keep moving.

Maki's shoulders weigh almost a ton as she looks down at her lap, her hands resting in the small gap between her thighs. She'd been depriving herself of so many things that she swears she feels your head in her lap, your hair in her fingers, your lips hovering over each others.

The dim light of the time just after dusk casts a small shadow of her body on your wall—the outline of her head and her torso painting a hollow shape on the discolored paint of your wall. She turned her head to look at the rubix cube still sitting on your nightstand. She remembers staring at it for a long time—she can't recall the exact interval—remembering how you carefully held it when you were mixing and solving it so easily. She always watched you do it with admiration glimmering in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she watched you solve it again and again.

She remembers watching you solve that damn cube with several different methods, swiftly moving it around and showing her different sides each time you solved it. You even made a checker pattern out of those colors, rotating it with the cube in your fingers and your wrist flicking every which way as Maki would look at it with her eyes shining in the minuscule light of the sun that shone down on you both through tree branches. Your back was always against the tree, slouching as you kept your legs crisscrossed. Maki would sit adjacent from you, her hands in her lap as she watched you tamper with it and listened to the boys talk about boy things.

She sighs, getting up from the edge of her bed and standing tall on her feet, her breath coming out shaky as she blinks the sleep out of her eyes.

"Maki? It's Gojo."

A knock, a gentle one from a gentle hand, Maki lifts up her head to look at it, "Come in."

The knob twists and in comes Gojo and his tall, lanky figure as he slightly ducks his head before entering, looking down at Maki with an unusual frown on his lips.

"There are...rumors...going around, about Y/n," he started, his voice low as the dry air stills and Maki's chest tightens. A knot forms in her heart out of her heartstrings, a knot so tight that no fingers could undo it—unless they were yours, because only you knew the way through the maze of layers to her heart.

"That they're the one who started that fire that went down in the city. The color of the flames and cursed energy residue weren't a coincidence to the Higher Ups. So now they labeled Y/n as a special grade curse user."

Maki's heart ached in her chest as her throat tightens, her nails digging into the skin of her calloused palms. Her mouth dried itself of all the saliva, her teeth grinding together making her jaw clench.

"That's not true," she grumbled, stepping past Gojo and moving to grab her red spear case. "They wouldn't."

"The Higher Ups say they do. That isn't the same Y/n you reunited with last year. They're listed as a murderer and a curse user, there's nothing you and I can do about it."

Maki stops after slinging her case over her shoulder, her hand gripping the string and her fingers tightening around it. Her eyes lowered, her bangs covering them as she looked at the floor where her heart dropped straight through.

You'll never be a curse user to her. You'll never be put in the same category that Suguru Geto was once in, the same man who obliterated her right leg last year and mouthed her off using her family name. You'll never be like that man, you're kind, you have the biggest heart she's ever seen, you're nothing like him, you'll never be a curse user to her.

"Maki...can I pitch in my two cents about love?" Gojo turned his head to look back at her, his lips parted as his patience dangerously hangs off of the soft flesh.

"...Don't keep your thoughts to yourself. Don't do what I did, I did that, and I lost my one and only. Don't do what I did."

Maki takes a deep breath and tries to ignore him and his advice, her hand reaching for the bronze doorknob and twisting it before pulling the door open. She steps out into the air conditioned hallway, the air gently caressing her face as she swallows dryly.

Gojo followed after her like a shadow, ducking his head and walking out into the hallway to meet with the others who were going down to the cafeteria. The two of them walked in uncomfortable silence, the atmosphere between the two of them thickening until one of them could cut it with a butter knife. Maki kept her shoulders squared as she tightened her grip on her case.

"Can you guys believe it? We're gonna be first grade sorcerers!" Yuji chirped, earning head turns from everyone else in the room (Megumi, Nobara, Panda, Toge and now Gojo and Maki). Nobara shook her head almost disapprovingly as she crossed her arms, looking at the entrance to the cafeteria and watching Maki walk behind Gojo.

"You guys ready for today?" Gojo chirped, a grin on his face as it beams to the rest of the room. The air in those four walls felt moist with a gloomy mood, like it'd just stopped raining and all that was left was a wet cold that stuck to everyone like tape. "You guys ready to become first grade sorcerers?!"

"Yeah! I'm so ready!"

"That's the spirit, Yuji-kun! C'mon, guys! Cheer up!"

Everyone stayed silent as Yuji stood up from his spot, looking around at his classmates with a blank expression on his face. Gojo did the same thing, glancing around at everyone, save for Maki, and sighing.

"These moody teenagers...alright! Let's roll out!"

Gojo and Yuji marched out with high heads and shoulders, grinning cheekily while the others clumped up and followed far behind them with unimpressed expressions.

"I guess we should be happier. A lot of us have been working hard for this achievement," Panda glances at Maki with a knowing look, earning nothing but a cold shoulder from her as she kept her focus straight ahead of her. Panda sighed in defeat and slumped his shoulders, then picked them back up.

"Maki! Maki! Wasn't this why you became a Jujutsu Sorcerer?"

"Yes. I don't need you fawning over me like I'm some superstar."

"Aww, c'mon! It'll really piss off your family when they find out you're finally getting somewhere!"

"No reason to fangirl over me. Be happy for someone else like Fushiguro."

"I'm a second grade sorcerer, so I didn't hace much farther to go, you're still a fourth grade because of your family. It's a great achievement, senpai."

"Shut up," Maki grunted, gripping her case tighter as her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed, her forehead creasing under her bangs. "It's nothing to glorify. It's just a promotion."

"Would you take the compliment if it was from Hatake-senpai?"

Her jaw clenched as her heart stopped for a split second, only to start again and send a shiver up her spine that made her head twitch slightly. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as the silence filled the gap between the handful of them.

"This isn't about them," she answered firmly, her fingers keeping their chokehold around the strap slung over her shoulder. The others stayed quiet while Nobara punched Megumi's shoulder and told him off for bringing you up.

Maki kept her shoulders squared the whole way down the mountain, listening to the others whisper and converse with one another. Her heart sank a little as no one said a word to her, but she was glad anyways, she knew all of what the others would have to say would be dry and uninteresting and it wouldn't maintain her attention for long before her thoughts would wander back to daydreams of a life with you.

———

"So, Y/n. Tell me more about this girl," Mahito grinned cheekily, resting his arms behind his head as he looked at you with a twinge of attitude in his hetero chromatic eyes.

"I've already told you what you need to know! What more do you want?"

"Wellll...what's she look like?"

"Nuh uh. I ain't tellin' ya, you'll just kill her."

"Pinky promise I won't," Mahito sticks up his pinky finger, looking at you with pleading eyes. You look at him, your gaze sharp and cutting through the air like a swift strike of a katana.

The two of you were walking down to a train station where you both would massacre several cars of people; you and Mahito agreed that he would transfigure one half of them and you'd kill the other half. Mahito would leave his half out for someone to find them (hopefully Gojo) and use them as a distraction.

You sighed, clicking your tongue and quickly crossing pinkies with him before wiping your hand off on your pants.

"She's got this beautiful evergreen hair...it's always soft, even when it's sweaty and shining in the sunlight from a day's worth of training. Her bangs are always even, like she uses a ruler to cut them when they're getting too long. Her eyes...they're like embers like ashes from a fire that lights up the scenery. When she looks at me, it's as if the whole world quiets down to pay attention to the hue of her irises and to listen to whatever she may have to say, whether it be an insult or a compliment. Every word that would fall from her lips is like more than music to my ears, like a song of a siren, to call my undivided attention even when she's yelling at me. She can do no wrong in my eyes, she's the image of a perfect girl; her beauty should be in museums all over the world and should be studied by scientists, she's better than any model you'd see in Vogue. It takes my breath away every time I think about the sunlight shining on her beautiful skin, it's so ethereal and out of this world. To touch and caress the smooth skin of her cheek is winning in life, because it's smoother than a hardwood dresser—"

"I'm about to fall asleep," Mahito deadpans as he looks away with a small sigh. That pulls you back to reality as you look at him with a frown, your eyebrows furrowing and creasing on your forehead.

"You're the one who asked," you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, you could've said she has green hair and pretty eyes and that would've been fine," he looks back at you with a cheeky grin. "I didn't need all that extra stuff."

"You got a glimpse of what human emotions are like, Mahito," you veer off to the side, Mahito following after you like a shadow as you wandered over to a vending machine and pulling out your card. Mahito looked over your shoulder and watched you swipe it and picking a sprite, watching it fall into the pit.

"Is it normal for humans to talk that much? About someone they love?" He looks at you with a curious expression as you step away from the vending machine with your sprite in your hand, cold and moist against your cold and dry skin. You pull out your phone and hold it to your ear as you walk next to him.

"I mean, it is for me. I've only ever seen people talk like that in movies and in Romeo and Juliet."

"What's that? And why do you have your phone out?"

"People can't see you so I have to make it look like I'm talking to someone. And Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy play written by Shakespeare."

"Who's that?"

"A famous playwright from over 400 years ago."

"What's a playwright?"

"Shut up. The trains are about to get here," you frown as you begin to separate from Mahito. He giggles cheekily before skipping off to the right side while you went to the left, shoving your phone back in your pocket. You stand there among many other people in that station, your face making you look like you're dying with the circles around your eyes. People occasionally turn to get another look at you to see if you're standing there at death's door or not.

The train slides past the wall, quickly stopping in front of the clump of people with phones to their ears and briefcases and purses and other things in their hands that step in all at once. You politely let a woman and her child go in before you, watching them with heavy eyes and a heavy heart as you go in after them.

You stand there, amongst functioning members of society, with your presence unknowingly casting a shadow on that same child from earlier. You stand there, a curse among humans with the intentions to wreak havoc upon the walls, to taint them with the devil's paint a shade of crimson red. You stand there, with your fists clenched and your arms glued to your sides as your head hangs low in shame.

One of your hands release its own death grip, freeing the stiff, cloudy shadow that was threatening to spill through the cracks of your hand as it flows onto the floor of the train. The child from earlier looks down in curiosity as it spreads across the whole floor and makes it impossible for everyone to see the bottom of it. The shadows reach the cameras around the car and seeping out through the tiny slits of train doors and switching cars and covering other cameras.

You look up with dark eyes as another shadow forms in your other hand, seeping out to the people all around you and reaching their throats and mouths and ears. Some people begin to choke on the shadow, others begin to bang their heads against the walls until blood starts gushing out from their wounds. You watch them suffer, watching them writhe in agony with regret in your eyes as you watch the child from earlier, look up at you with tears in his eyes as pleas for your help escape his lips and fall upon deaf ears.

You make a cutlass out of a shadow and swiftly raise your arm, blood soon paints your skin and the walls and other people's shirts around you, tainting the pigments with red. A thud, then you swing for the mother, too, not watching but listening to the body fall to the floor next to her child. You listen to the gasps of uninfected people as you dash to them, striking them down with your blade and getting it dirtied up. You slay civilian after civilian, until you're the only one standing in a room full of bodies and blood coating the floor. You're sure the people in the other cars were already dead or beginning to die off, as you opened the door to another car and watching people choke and slam their heads against the poles and the walls.

You put them all out of their misery, blood dripping from your cursed blade when the last person falls to the floor and lands on top of another one. You look at your work, horrified at what you've just done to all these innocent people. A tear threatens to escape from your eye before you whip your head back around and move, on autopilot, to the other cars and slaughter every last civilian.

The train stops soon enough at the Shibuya train station, where the doors open and a bunch of dead bodies and transfigured humans spill out from the doors. Blood pours from the sides and trickling down on the tracks. A man stood there in front of you with wide eyes at the blood coating your hair and skin and shirt.

Your gaze sends fear shooting up his spine and rooting in his feet to keep him frozen. You raise your blade, flipping it in your hands as you make a gash right through his chest, watching him fall to the ground of the station. You watch the other people shiver in fear as you walk past them, more shadows seeping from your palms and strangling people, snapping their necks, stabbing them in their hearts and slicing their heads off.

You trudge through the field of bodies, stepping over arms and legs and heads and getting blood all over your boots. A man in the center of the station turns around at the sounds of blood squelching under footsteps, and his eyes widen at your appearance.

Gojo's lips part in shock as he watches you stand there like a slasher from a horror movie, your blade shining in the ceiling lights. Your eyes pierce through all six of his, your lips pursed into a line but your gaze says many things in many tones. Gojo pauses for a moment, watching you stand there like an entity of doom, looming over the yards of bodies that cover the off white station floor like a leaning tower.

"Y/n—"

"Best friendddd!" Mahito chirps as he emerges from the train on the opposite end of the station, a grin on his face as he happily skips his way out. He watches you and Gojo prolong eye contact, the two of you practically holding a staring contest in the middle of a battlefield. Gojo loses a fight for once, blinking to moist his eyes and watching you disappear all of a sudden.

You reappear next to him, tilting your head up to meet the line of his eyes as he looks down, a shadow on his face.

"Where...where have you been?" He mutters, his eyes still wide. "It's true, then? You—"

"Killed all those people?" You cut him off, clenching your jaw as your eyes narrow slightly. “Those few weeks ago? Yeah. That was me.”

“Why?” He squinted. “You’re a curse user now. There’s a bounty on your head now. Did you even think about that? About what that would do to your reputation?”

“I don’t care,” you frown. “That doesn’t matter to me. I’ll keep killing people for as long as I’m alive.”

“And keep this burden over your shoulders?! And keep hurting yourself as much as the people who care about you?!”

“Who really cares, Gojo? You shouldn’t care about me, I’m not that kid you were teaching last year.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a kid. A child! Going around and killing people like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t affect you, too! And don’t tell me that it doesn’t! You cannot stand there and tell me you don’t care after slaughtering all those innocent people for nothing! You’re a kid! You can’t grow up too fast, you can’t turn into a criminal when you’re this young!”

Yet you stood there, acting like you don’t care. Your eyes hood as you stare back at his wide blue eyes, uncaring and blank as you stayed frozen in your spot. You act like you don’t care but your heart sinks in your chest at the hurt in Gojo’s eyes.

“I don’t care.” You huff quietly. “Stop acting like you’re my father. You never really had any responsibility over me, anyways.”

“If that’s the case then I do now— don’t walk away! Don’t turn your back on me, on Panda, on Toge, on Yuta, on Megumi, on Nobara, On Maki! Don’t leave us hanging here and act like you were never there!”

You stood there with your back to him anyways, your gaze focused on the floor and the dimmed foreground ahead of you as you froze in your spot. He’s right; you’re turning your back on not only him, but everyone else— but really you couldn’t bother with everyone else, but not Maki. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to her if she were here right now, to see you in the light of a murderer. You couldn’t, only if she were present. But she isn’t—you aren’t even aware she’s here, Shibuya.

You turn your head back to look at him, glaring at him with one eye. “Really? Using Maki’s name against me like that?”

“If it brings you back to us then yes! I’ll use her name over and over again if it means you’ll come back to Jujutsu High! Everyone misses you—Shoko, Panda, Toge, Maki, the first years— you ditched us! You ditched people who cared about you!”

“I didn’t ask them to care about me! I never asked you to feel like I was something to you! I didn’t ask Panda to care for me! I didn’t ask anything of anyone!”

“We cared because we can! You were our friend!”

“You were never mine! I hated all of you! I played pretend because I had to!”

“Then why did it take you so long to kill Maki?!”

Your heart stopped for a moment—causing a pang in your chest when you realized you were only holding your breath. You blinked, almost flinching at his retort, catching the twinge of desperation in his eyes and hearing it in his voice as if he was literally begging on his knees. You swallowed the lump in you dry throat, your breath coming out in short bursts as your chest quickly rises and falls.

“…I no longer have any correlation with her,” you finally step away, your hand tightening around the handle of your blade, slightly shaking from the nerves coursing through your body and circling back from your fingertips and to your wrists and shoulders and reaching your knees.

Gojo frowned, crossing his fingers in the air.

“I’ll do it! I’ll put up my domain!”

You kept walking, muttering incantations under your breath as you kept your focus on the stairs of the station ahead just up ahead. Gojo clenched his jaw as he watched you not even take a second to turn around and see if he was lying. His eyebrows furrowed further, his teeth grinding together as he looks at all the other people around him, along with the transfigured humans.

His eye twitched as he put up his domain once he was sure you were out of range, taking one more moment to look up the stairs that you just crossed.

His lips parted, his heart began racing in his chest when the realization dawned on him that he’d just lost someone else; his eyes water for a split second before he blinked it away, breathing shallowly as his gaze remained focused on the stairway.

He muttered, with a soft breath and trembling lips, his heart sinking in his chest and forming yet another hole, “May your travels be filled with turmoil and pain for as long as your back is turned to us.”

#jujutsu kaisen #maki zenin x reader #maki x reader #maki zenin #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk manga #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #naoya zenin #mai zenin #mahito #ryomen sukuna #kenjaku #jjk angst #jjk fanfic #maki jujutsu kaisen

[poppy-metal]

I learned how to solve a rubik’s cube earlier this summer, and when I was first learning I’d hand it off to one of my friends so they could shuffle it for me. lately I’ve been struck by the image of eddie sitting in his throne shuffling a rubik’s cube while arguing about d&d rules, and I don’t know why I find that mental picture as attractive as I do.

- 🧚🏻‍♂️

hand...his hands....he loves rubix cubes for his adhd, just fiddles with them seamlessly, and solves them so easily, but then he twists them around again, because he doesn't play with them to solve them, its just something for his hands to do while he talks. you like how dexterous his fingers looked, ringed and quick as they work the cube again and again, you even zone out from time to time because you're so focused on how his rings look flicking to and from as his fingers fiddle.

he's not even looking at the cube either, n that makes it hotter. one elbow leaned casually on the arm of his throne as he rolls his eyes and argues back and forth with dustin and them. your mind always wanders from you, always wanders to what those fingers would be good at on your body.

#ask #🧚‍♀️ anon #eddie spaghetti

[owchie-wowchie]

(This is all the work I’ve done on “Tinky’s New Toy”. It’ll give you a sense for my writing style! You don’t have to read it all…)

Paige Tordue had just got home from her work. She began taking off the ridiculous outfit she had to wear while on the job. While working at Watcher World wasn’t the worst gig in the world, it certainly had weird employee rules and regulations. And this costume was definitely one of them. The fuzzy arms and the headband with the antennae was just the small of it, nothing compared to the layers of purple shirts and the odd hairstyle.

Though she doesn’t complain. None of the other employees do. They all always smile, and talk to the patrons in such happy tones. Sure, Paige herself was an extrovert, but she couldn't keep up with the other “Sniggles”. Working noon to 9, the sheer amount of energy required is simply insane! And that's not to mention the policies. “Stop smiling, and no snack breaks for the next week”, or “Intervene into unarmed conflict, but let conflict play out if both sides are armed”. What kind of rules are those anyway?

She finally finished getting out of the costume, but she couldn't get into her comfy clothes yet. She can’t settle into her little writing setup without a latte. Hey, maybe after a few more weeks, she’ll produce something that’ll actually allow her to quit her job at WW… that’s the dream, anyway.

Paige put on some real clothes and left her apartment. It was near the old Starlight Theatre, so there was a way to walk to Beanie’s. As she began to begrudgingly trudge down the street, she heard a voice from the nearby alley.

“Spare change for the homeless?” A deep, heavily accented voice asked.

Paige didn't even have to turn to look at him to know who it was.

“Sorry, no, I don’t have any-”

“Wait… I know you! You’re the lady that he told me about! Have this.”

Paige, confused at why the homeless man was giving her something instead of the other way around, looked at what he was offering.

It was a golden, intricately patterned Rubix Cube. Curious, she decided to take it. She then twisted one of its sides.

Paige had just got home from her work. She began taking off the ridiculous outfit she had to wear while on the job. While working at Watcher World wasn’t the worst gig in the world, it certainly had weird employee rules and regulations. And this costume was definitely one of them. The fuzzy arms and the headband with the antennae was just the small of it, nothing compared to the layers of purple shirts and the odd hairstyle.

Though she doesn’t complain. None of the other employees do. They all always smile, and talk to the patrons in such happy tones. Sure, Paige herself was an extrovert, but she couldn't keep up with the other “Sniggles”. Working noon to 9, the sheer amount of energy required is simply insane! And that's not to mention the policies. “Stop smiling, and no snack breaks for the next week”, or “Intervene into unarmed conflict, but let conflict play out if both sides are armed”. What kind of rules are those anyway?

She finally finished getting out of the costume, but she couldn't get into her comfy clothes yet. She can’t settle into her little writing setup without a latte. Hey, maybe after a few more weeks, she’ll produce something that’ll actually allow her to quit her job at WW… that’s the dream, anyway.

Paige put on some real clothes and… wait. This… this all had happened before.

She rushed back into her house, and on the top of her writing desk, in the corner of the room, was the same olden, intricately patterned Rubix Cube.

“What… What happened? What is this thing?”

She picked it up again, inspecting it from every angle, but being careful not to twist it in any way. She then decided to place her ear up to it, as she heard a subtle hum…

Paige immediately dropped the cube. The sounds were too much. The screams… the horrible screams of terrible, unfathomable pain…

That’s when she heard one voice. Loud and clear, sounding like a… a demented cartoon character, almost hiding sounds of agony behind the bubbly insanity.

“Careful with your gifts, asshat!”

At this point, Paige finally snapped. She left the cube on the floor, and got into her bed.

Bad dream, that’s all this is… nothing here is real… I just have to calm down, and I’ll wake up tomorrow perfectly fine. Everything is fine. EvErYtHiNg Is FiNe…

The voice returned.

“Aw, don’t be so grumpy, Paige! I just wanna… Play-ge!” A chorus of insane laughter ensued, from both the voice, and the box.

Denial was no longer an option. This? This was real.

“Who are you? Sh-show yourself…”

“Aw, is someone trying to sound all brave? Well, I guess I have some time for this!”

The laughter began once more, and before she knew it, Paige was sitting up in her bed, one inch away from a hideous, yellowed, matted, decaying goat face. The rest of the body wasn’t any better, having bits of moldy fur and what she can only assume is the carcass of some inhuman beast.

But she couldn’t scream. She wanted to, she tried to. But she couldn’t. She could do nothing but gasp in sheer horror at the sight in front of her.

The beast seemed to take great amusement in her horror, and held in place for a solid minute before bursting into more laughter, this time physical. His breath smelled of rotten flesh and melting wax, and he strolled over to the floor, and grabbed the cube.

“This is my little present to you, Paigey-Waigey! The Bastards Box. My little toybox of JOY AND WONDER! You see, dumbass, I need a new toy. All my old ones are… broken.”

“I… I can go to Toyzone! I could b-buy you a new toy…?”

The voice of the creature changed. The cartoonishness was gone. All that was in it was pain and madness.

“NO, DUMBASS! I can’t GO in Toyzone. My brother’s turf. I meant that YOU’RE gonna be my little toy!”

Sound erupted from the creature’s mouth, and from the cube he was now holding. It wasn’t laughing. It wasn’t a cackle. It was a scream of pure madness, unadulterated ecstasy.

“Don't kill me… please? Or torture me?

The cartoonishness returned to the creature’s voice.

“I won’t! Not yet anywho. Not before you get some new souls into my little box here.”

He firmly handed the rubix cube to Paige, with a silent nod of his head.

“See, people who die close to this boxy-poo have their souls go into it. Then they have FUN for all ETERNITY! So… I’d like you to help some people into this little paradise!”

“…You want me to… to kill?”

“Only certain people! See, I’m a god. No beating around the bush there, dummy. And my brothers ALL have their domains around Hatchetfield. Kill their prophets, and they lose their grip.”

“You want me to kill the prophets of GODS?!”

“There you go, Einstein! Hop to it! Your first target is the prophet of my brother, Pokey. See, ol’ Pokes doesn’t really exert much of his power over this town. When he does, it usually ends up with everyone in town dead.”

“D-dead? But… how? There hasn’t been any mass killings in… a while.”

“He hasn’t done it over this dimension yet. But from other dimensions, I know who he usually chooses as the prophet.”

“Who?”

“Usually one of two people, but I’m willing to bet… Henry Hidgens.”

“…what? The old kooky reclusive biology teacher?”

“Wow, you really did a think there, Einstein. Of course it’s him.”

“I… I need time to think about this. What even is your… name?”

“You can call me Tinky.”

“Ok then…”

“Now get to it! I’ll be in the box if you need to chat!”

And in a flash of light, the beast, Tinky, was gone. All that was left was Paige, the cube, and her thoughts on how she’s gonna murder the professor.

*** Chapter 2; A Bastard Box Office Flop

So how was Paige going to do it? To be honest… She really didn’t want to. But a literal god is forcing her to, so she best not dwell on the morality of it all. I mean, this is a good thing! Yeah, it has to be! She’s stopping ancient and evil gods from getting their mitts on the town. She’s practically a hero? Right? RIGHT? And sometimes heroes have to go against what they value to do what’s right.

Nevertheless, the target was… rough. She, personally, never had Hidgens in college. Hell, she grew up in Oregon. She just had to get away from… them… but none of that mattered.

All she knew about that old coot was that his house was practically a bunker, and that he barely leaves it, save for when he teaches biology at the community college. She didn't know much, but Paige could also guess he was armed in some way. But… he seemed sort of harmless, if eccentric. Not evil. But if that horrid beast told her it was so… it had to be.

But first; sleep. It was 9:20 pm, and she needed rest. She could plan in the morning.

***

She woke up with a start. 7:00 am was the time, and she had the worst nightmares of her life. While it began fading from her memory, the only thing she could remember seeing was some blue thing everywhere! Some… goop. Or ooze. Or shit, she just couldn't tell. And that stone… the small, gray stone with black holes in it… it almost resembled a mask. Was it important? Paige almost had the urge to ask TInky… then she remembered; that guy is really freaking creepy. But she needed to get up, get dressed, and get her latte. She placed the cube in her pocket, if she needed it, and began her long trudge towards Beanies.

On the way, she walked past the old Starlight Theatre. She always wondered how that place is still standing, after all these years. Sure, it had renovations, but it still feels like a slice right out of the 1800s. The cube vibrated the closer she got to it, and the silent screams began to get a bit more vocal. Paige decided that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to be near a place that caused the box to get so… upset. She jaunted over to Beanie’s and walked in. It wasn’t very busy, as usual. The only reason she even headed over there in the first place was due to the short lines. Anyone in their right mind would go Starbucks across the street. She walked up to the counter, and I saw who was handling it. Ugh, it was the crabby one…

“Hello ma’am, what would you like today?” The barista asked, though her tone and dull expression betrayed her chipper words.

“Hi, yes I would like a… latte, please?”

“Very specific. So just like, the basic ass latte, half normal milk half black coffee?”

“Yes please”

“Uh huh. All right. That’ll be… $7.43.”

“W-what? That’s way too expensive!”

“Well, too bad. My teacher is asking for me to pick up his groceries.”

“I… that’s… wait. What’s your teacher’s name?”

“Hell if I know. Pigeon, or something.”

Paige’s eyes shot open wide.

“Hey how about… I pick up the groceries? Tell me his address, and I’ll do it for you!”

“Really? Why the fuck not? Here’s the address.”

The barista handed her her coffee, her receipt, and on the back was the address of Henry Hidgens.

***

Why this “professor” needed mayonnaise, she didn’t know. And certainly not that much. But Paige climbed up the stairs outside of the house that Hidgens lived, and was blocked by a gate. She pressed a small button on it. A voice responded a few seconds late

“Who is it?”

She recognized the voice of the professors

“Um… Paige Tordue. Worker at Watcher World? I picked up your groceries?”

“Bullcrap!”

His voice was filled with suspicion, and an almost theatrical amount of emotion.

“My student, Emma, was getting my groceries! Unless… you killed her! But your guilt made you regret it, and want to finish the job!”

Again, his voice became strangely accusatory. He certainly hasn’t got any social skills…

“No? She gave me express permission to do this?”

“Hmm… fine. One more safety feature! Sing a few bars!”

“…what?”

“Sing, goddamn it! Now!”

“Um… wondering free… wish I could be… part of that world?”

“that was terrible”

“I know”

“Come on in.”

The gates unlocked, and she was allowed into the house.

The house itself was rather small, yet there was an Alexa in nearly every room. Wasn’t one enough?? Before she could contemplate any of this, the old man popped out of the basement.

“Apologies. It’s just a safety protocol of mine. You’ll never know when the apocalypse of singing aliens will arrive!”

“Yeah… ok. Sure. Here.” She handed the bag to the clearly insane professor.

“You know, my favorite quote from Sherrezade’s stories is ‘A song is a dick in sheep’s clothing’”.

At this point, she had enough. She reached deep in her pocket, pulled out a knife, and stabbed Hidgens in the chest, while scored by the raucous laughter of Tinky.

Chapter 3; Cracks

Paige stood there. Over the body of the old man who she had just brutalized. Blood stains covered her hands, her face, the floor, and… the knife. Where did that knife even come from? She just found it in her pocket. But the scariest thing? The silence. The absolute quiet. It was her, the corpse, and… the beast. He wasn't there physically, but the silent screams of insanity began to etch at her very soul. She began to chuckle. She did it! She was the HERO! Her chuckles began to increase into a sort of small laughter. Hurray! The prophet was dead!

She kicked the body. It flushed out a bit more of that red ichor, the symbol of her victory. Then she heard a sound. A chime. A feminine voice came from the Alexa on the counter.

“No vocal contact for fifteen minutes. Operating Operation 2, calling the police after an almost certain assassination.”

“Shit.”

She wasn't one to swear, but when things begin to hit the fan, panic begins to set in. She looked around on how to make this look like an accident… She looks to the basement, and she runs down there, desperate to find something to use.

The basement was a weird place. It was covered in strange machinery, a bar, and a cabinet with vials of a strange blue substance… She couldn’t contemplate the implications now, as the cops would arrive any minute, so she grabbed a vial, ran upstairs, and smashed it on the professor's body. Hopefully that could fool the cops…

She jumped out the window and booked it to her apartment. She had to get to work, after all. After getting back inside, she began to hurriedly wash the blood off of her body, but there’s still a faint red hue remaining. And Paige certainly didn’t have time for a shower. She put on the costume, and caught the 11:00 bus to Watcher World. Today was a Saturday too. The busiest day of them all. She got into the park, and began to do what she did best; faking that everything was totally alright! She picked up that skill as a child in Oregon. But children can tell when something is wrong. She never knew *how* they could, but they can always sense it. And with a faint smell of blood coming off her… let’s just say many kids didn’t want to chat with her. She probably came off as some sort of serial killer! Ha! Oh, that’s funny. She’s OBVIOUSLY not, she's just an anti-hero of sorts, killing for the greater good of the town!

But she couldn’t focus on that. As the cube was vibrating, and telepathically screaming and glowing like there’s no tomorrow. I guess… Tinky doesn't like Watcher World? Why? But it’s sure to make her life hell… or maybe not. Honestly, she’s beginning to get acclimated to the screams of the box. They’re more annoying than terrifying.

The work day goes slowly, and she’s beginning to worry about the police. I mean, nobody saw her do it, right? Nobody would know it’s *her*. Hell, it could’ve been anybody! Wait… one person would know. That crabby barista would know that she had gone to take him his groceries shortly before his death.

When she had this realization, in the breakroom, she silently said once more:

“Shit.”

***

It was 10:00pm. She was in her apartment, fresh out of costume, and she was worrying HARD. She picked up the remote, and turned on the news. Dan and Donna were talking about a break in. Crap. But… not a murder? Huh? She watched longer. Donna continued,

“While it appears the house was broken into, the professor appeared to be in top physical condition. He assured the news that nothing happened, and that simply one of his experiments went wrong. Interestingly, he refused to take off his sunglasses during the interview.”

Dan, as always, chimed in his two cents.

“That’s incredible, Donna. He must be exhausted after such an eventful day, eh?

“Apparently not. He appeared to be full of vigor. Almost dramatic.”

“Well, then he must be feeling alright about what happened!”

Paige quickly turned the TV off. He… was alive? No, he couldn’t be! She heard him scream! She took the pulse! He… he was dead. She needed to know what happened. So she finally bit the bullet. She took out the Bastards Box, and pressed the center.

In an instant, Tinky appeared in his horrific form. The mangled corpse covered in sickly yellow fur appeared right next to her again, eliciting a small yelp in surprise out of Paige. Tinky ate it up, and began speaking again.

“Nice work, dumbass! You just *had* to throw that vial on him, didn’t you?”

“What… what are you talking about?”

“That vial! With the blue shit, Einstein!”

“What did it do…?” She suddenly had a deep worry

“Oh nothing much, it simply turned him into a ZOMBIE THAT IS BEING CONTROLLED BY MY BROTHER, AND CAN DESTROY THE WHOLE TOWN!”

“Oh. This is bad”

“You think?”

“Well, there must be something I can do…”

“Actually, there is, Paige of Paper!”

“What?”

“Simple! Kill him again, but with this shotgun!”

“…what? Where did that even come from? And… I don’t have a license!”

“You don’t have a license to murder, yet you do it anyway. You’re worried about being legal now?”

“Touché. Ok… um…” She grabbed the shotgun.

“I’ll be out, kill him, and be back soon.”

Tinky then decided to chime in once more.

“Actually, before you do, take a pop by my domain. In town, every god has their *place*. Mine is the alleyways. They interconnect into a small place called “The Broken Den”. Stop by sometime!”

“Which should I do first?”

“How about you use that brain of yours, and consult the box. The souls having fun in there hear EVERYTHING! So simply ask them.”

With that, Paige put her ear to the box, and began to listen.

I love your writing style!

#long post #hatchetfield #fanfic #thanks for the ask!

[darkpeacemusic]

Creepypasta Headcanons: Sully Woods

(Note: Some of these headcanons were inspired by the 2015 reboot of Jeff the Killer and one of them was inspired by a rumor based around the Jeff the Killer image)

(TW: Abuse, bullying, suicide and murder)

In my AU, Sully is actually Liu's younger twin instead of an alter or demon possessing Liu.

Like Liu, he is 33 years old as of currently and he is also 8 years old than Jeff.

He is 7 minutes younger than Liu even though he acts like he's older than Liu.

He and Liu were basically inseparable like they were always around each other and never left each other's side for a minute.

Growing up, it was always hard to tell which twin was Sully and which one was Liu so Sully has gotten used to people confusing him for Liu.

Sully has hated Jeff ever since Jeff was a baby because he thinks he was the reason the family fell apart and their dad didn't have time for him anymore due to working overtime.

Before Jeff was born, Sully was taught by his father how to use a BB gun.

Like Liu, he is half Korean and curses in Korea whenever he doesn't get his way or gets very pissed off.

When Jeff and Liu started to bond as brothers, Sully started to get jealous of Jeff because of how close they bonded. So as a result, Sully would do what normal jealous would do and try to get rid of Jeff such as dropping off to live with the Hopkins (their next door neighbors at the time) and shaving off his hair.

As he got older, he got borderline abusive towards Jeff. There was one time he yelled at Jeff and threw his Rubix cube at him for coming into his room in the middle of the night without his permission when Jeff had a nightmare (Liu was at a sleepover at that time).

Sully was a perfect son in his parents' eyes. Always getting good grades, never getting trouble at school, and even winning Student of the Month awards. If there was anything that he could do to make his parents and himself look good, he would do it.

He listens to rock, pop, and rap. The most common song he would play when he's driving his Honda is Pumped Up Kicks as it reminds him of what he will do once he catches Jeff.

He and Jane only get along due to their mutual hatred of Jeff.

He's only nice towards anyone who isn't associated with Jeff.

When Jeff was burned alive by the bullies, the only thing Sully cared about was how damaged Jeff's face would be.

He has a dark sense of humor.

At age 18, he got a scholarship to an art school where he would meet and become best friends with Bloody Painter.

His favorite artists is Van Goug.

Before the night Jeff snapped, Sully at one point photoshopped one of Jeff's photos and made him look like the Joker. He would later plaster it on the internet which humiliated Jeff to the point where he nearly committed suicide. Sully would then say that Jeff was being too sensitive and it was only a joke. This would be one of the reasons why Jeff would snap.

He drives a 2024 Honda CR-V.

During the night Jeff had snapped, Sully would escape the house by sneaking out of the window and left his twin to suffer in the hands of Jeff without noticing.

A year after he escaped from Jeff's rampage, he would later release a autobiography called "Jeff the Killer: A Love for Blood" which tells the Jeff the Killer story in Sully's POV. He twisted the story up by making up lies about Jeff such as being an abusive brother towards Liu and getting addicted to painkillers after getting out of the hospital.

He lives in a penthouse that he bought when his book became an overnight seller.

His favorite food is ramen.

He firmly believes Randy was innocent and that Jeff should've died that night he was burned.

He still loves his twin, Liu while Liu still hates him for everything he has done to him and Jeff.

He doesn't murder innocent people but rather anyone who is associated with Jeff or anyone who tries to debunk his lies. He is determined to keep his crimes secret so he won't have his reputation get ruined.

He smokes as a way to destress.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta au #sully creepypasta #sully woods

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 3

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: Life has been continuously throwing curveballs at Eliza, so it’s no surprise that she forgot about the party in honor of the Sokovia Accords that is planned to set place that very night. With Tony’s unusually hostile behavior, Eliza should’ve known that the night was bound to end in disaster. She just didn’t think it would happen like this. 

Warnings: Vivid flashback at the beginning, official announcement of the age gap (about 11 years), Karen being suspicious (and executing it badly), language, mentions of mental illness, and use of the word 'sex' more than once, a lot of foreshadowing and fluff!

Word Count: 20k

Reader Chapter 3: I Think He Knows here on AO3!

“Beware, this is the age of miracles.”

She couldn’t remember when exactly everything began. She figured it must’ve been somewhere around her fifth or sixth birthday - no matter how she twisted or turned the pictures of what she could remember, there was no telling what timeline the events fell into. The day she woke up in the secluded room in a place she couldn’t recognize was unknown. Only a handful of people remembered the exact order of events, and they were either dead, exiled, or refused to talk now. 

She judged by the little things she could remember, which wasn’t nearly enough to quell the thirst for information. She distantly remembered that the doctors celebrated her change of age. However, the most excited had been the man in the black suit. They didn’t celebrate her birthday for the same reason that small-town families celebrate birthday parties, it was more an act of acknowledgment of her “coming of age”. Subjecting the children to the horrors too young in life meant they would’ve died too soon. Hardly anyone passed the first stage. Most of them died after the first series of injections and those who miraculously survived the torture didn’t make it off the table when the second phase rolled around. So the doctors and the man in the black suit chose to wait until one day, their most promising candidate reached an age with which they felt comfortable. 

Life before the White Room was a blur. The gaping holes should’ve been filled with childhood memories, instead, they were hollow. The things she did remember were absolutely cruel, horrendous pictures she wished she could just delete from the hard drive and never have to think about ever again. Though the demons always came to haunt her at night and sometimes, when the day was just as cruel, the pictures chased her twenty-four hours without taking a break. Her feet hurt from running. 

If our memory worked like a computer, life would be so much easier. I believe it was Sigmund Freud who researched the human conscience and the hidden subconscious. He put a name on the phenomenon of preventing what’s unacceptable to the conscious mind to push all the way to the front lines.  Repression , he called it. Not just the mentally ill use it as a defensive mechanism to prevent the stress of anxiety, even the psyche of the average person is capable of doing it. 

Most importantly though, repression is a response to trauma. 

If we could reboot our brains and build a new conscience from scratch in which trauma and pain don’t have a place, at least half of the world’s population would be much happier, but we weren’t made to forget the things that shape us as people in the first place. 

The human brain is and always has been an enigma. A Rubix cube without a solution, IKEA furniture without a manual – it’s too complicated. The answers we are looking for don’t exist. Not even psychologists like Sigmund Freud or Carl Jung managed to explain the depths of the human mind without holes in their theories and just like the endless sea that’s still mostly undiscovered, chances are that we will never truly reach the bottom of the glass without drowning first. 

They called it the White Room for the most basic of reasons. All the rooms in the building (she believed it was a building) were set out with white walls, sterile and smelling of disinfectants. Neon lights in the ceiling, no windows, only artificial boxes set into the wall in hopes of faking natural sunlight - the children there were ghastly pale, lacking vitamin D, but with the chemicals pumped into their veins, it hardly mattered what nutritions the body lacked and what not. 

The room she grew up in only had a small sink and a bed. Bathrooms were on the outside, use only allowed when asked. She remembered it, one of the few things prominent in her mind. The years of captivity and the lack of change of scenery caused the outlay of the White Room to be branded into her brain. 

When the authorities traced the building back to her and burned it down, she asked to see the pictures of the remains. Even reduced to ashes, she could see the room she grew up in vividly clearly. They burned the house of horrors down, but they could never burn her memories. 

The treatment started slowly. Ankles and wrists were tied to an apparatus, a mix of an operating table and a gurney. They placed leather belts around her limbs and torso. She was strapped in so tightly, that movement posed as useless. 

“Miracles are born here. It’s time the world sees the truth. And we’re only getting started.”

Two metal sensors stuck to either side of her skull. Needles supplied her veins with liquid that kept circulating through an apparatus next to her. The gurney stood in a secluded circle in the middle of the room, glass walls shielding the outside from her tiny body. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t escape the restraints. They were stronger than leather, stronger than steel. The flesh on her wrists was sore from all the pulling, and her body and soul exhausted. She was trapped like a deer in headlights, with the only difference being that she wasn’t standing on an open road - she was trapped in a cage while everyone else stood around the glass, just watching her. 

He was tall, the man in the black suit. Always grinning, always smiling. He told her, “We’re gonna make you better.” He told her, “Don’t be afraid, it’s all gonna be over soon.” 

She begged him to stop, but he always shushed her. He lowered the gurney and disappeared behind the glass with everyone else. His voice sounded over the speakers connected to the microphone. “This is for your protection,” he said. Somehow, she didn’t believe him. 

The first time it happened, she screamed until her lungs gave out. The pain was excruciating. Her entire body boiled with jolts of electricity. The liquid in her veins mixed with something heavier, something toxic. The sensation was like a sneeze, building up slowly and then bursting at the seams. Only the size of the explosion was much bigger. Every cell in her body seemed to deteriorate, pushing power against the foreign charge. Her mind fought the intrusion with all it had to give. The room vibrated, and objects clattered against the glass. Fast-flying projectiles came in from all directions. 

The pain tore her apart from the inside. Vessels, muscles, and skin. She broke, then fell back together again. Cells exploded and regenerated all at once. 

The first few times, she passed out. The power surges weakened her heart. Every time she thought she saw the light, so close to touching it, the shocks returned. Her heart restarted. Her nails on the inside of her palms went stiff, digging deeper, deeper, deeper until all she could feel was the hot trail of blood. She was sure the floor was colored dark red from all the fluid she lost. 

As the jolts came though, not only did her body convulse, her mind twisted too. Pictures flashed before her eyes. She saw faces that seemed familiar, tied to happy memories, but she couldn’t put a finger on them. She reached for them, reached for something to get her out of this hell, but just as she was about to wrap her small hands around the pictures, the pictures ripped apart. Lightning struck her brain. The memories burst like glass bubbles. Faces disappeared into melted skin and bones. A bonfire in the middle of nothingness. Everything burned to ashes. Instead, she heard the strange man’s voice. She heard him call for her. She heard children screaming. She heard orders shouted in all kinds of languages. The world shook. She was vibrating. 

“You’re mine,” the voice repeated. “You belong to us. You live for us. You breathe for us. We own you.” 

Subject number 666. No name, just a number. 

Tiny needles penetrated the frontal lobe. They dug deep into the flesh, searching for something. They dove for something lodged far away in the brain's fear center – the amygdala. 

The pain became unbearable. She convulsed on the chair, but the shackles kept her in place. She felt like flying. The world collapsed on her. She drowned in smoke and ashes. Instead of air, she breathed blood.

The needles finally pinched home. The red in her veins took the energy like a child to their mother. It transformed the pain into something stronger. She was overwhelmed by the sense of control that took over her entire being. Her fingers sizzled with life. She was burning again, but this time she allowed herself to feel the fire, and she used it to her advantage. 

“Do it,” the man said.

She couldn’t open her eyes. The world around her was flaming red. Her hands dug into a floor of burning sand. It didn’t hurt her. If anything, she found herself able to dance with it. The smoke danced around her, the world hers. With the power of worlds, she could do anything. She danced with the smoke, the devil’s tango, and she was the queen. She was stronger than heaven and hell. The wasteland was her world. She stood high amid nothingness and it had never felt better .

“She’s not going to survive,” someone said. The voice echoed in the sand.

“She will.”

“You know how many children died, sir. If we do this and she dies… she’s the last one in line.”

“She can bare it,” he sounded so convinced. Perhaps she could. He was always right.

The needle hit a point in her brain that sent her senses into overdrive. The world lay at her feet. She carried it, though never letting it crush her underneath its weight. She felt the sand, felt the air, felt the smoke – she suddenly felt every little thing. The air was knocked out of her lungs. 

She fell to the sand. Her heart was beating louder and louder, faster and faster. The light spun around her in circles, glowing ciphers. Pain formed a ball in her chest – no, this wasn’t a sickness inside of her internal organs; it was no parasite eating away at her, no tumor making her hallucinate this unspoken power. She stared straight into the depths of her soul and she could see it all so clearly. The people around her, their fear, their pain, their anger. What they felt, she could see, she could feel and she could control it. Without trying, she knew she held the reins to the horse that was the weight of the world. The emotions, the pain, and the suffering. It was all in her hands. The stories that came with the scars on the human soul, the subjective reality they lived in; she saw everything so goddamn clearly. She was the eye, the see-it-all. 

She was born to serve, born to destroy, born to bend all souls to her will and make the world crumble at the root of her existence. 

Before her, the red, slimy substance danced to the beat of her heart. Her hand reached out, eyes still closed. As it belonged to her, the substance slithered its way toward the girl on the ground.

The scream broke out, a lion from his cage. Her body fell back, on her knees, chest wide open. The slug entered in a stormy wave, breaking through her bones until it hit the back of her soul. She inhaled everything left to give. Red filled her veins, her bones. She came back to her body, something she had been so scared of, so dissociated from – she found the one thing that had been missing. 

The world stopped shaking then.

She felt him smile. “I told you,” he said. “She’s the strongest of them all.”

“What did you do to me?” she asked quietly. She couldn’t comprehend the view of the red smoke dancing around her fingers.  

He turned to the microphone, his smile wide and the insanity at home in his eyes. “You died,” he spoke to her, mesmerized. So many different feelings, so much pain. She flinched at the baggage the sole sound of his voice loaded onto her chest. 

“You died.” There it was again. “But you lived.”

As far as explanations went, this one made the least sense. 

She stared through the glass. Her head tilted. The urge to break through it, to tear the people behind apart piece by piece, and to feel the power again seemed to drive her. Her soul burned with the purpose of domination. She wanted to feel them, drain them and make them dance like smoke to the rules of her mind. 

The ball hit the cage, but it didn’t crack. Red smoke shot through the room. The glass never once budged. She huffed, angry, and tried again, stronger. She tried to wrap the cord around one of the men. She searched for a leak. Why? Simply because she could. 

Finally, his veins glowed red. She saw herself in his helpless eyes as the man in the black suit watched from a distance. They made her. They owned her. The others didn’t matter, she had been told many times before. They didn’t stop her when she grabbed the poor man’s soul through the shield. She felt every ounce of him. 

Emotions are complex, she realized just when her head began to pound. So many colors at once. The pictures flashed fast, fresh and old memories coupled with the pain and the happiness she could pull with her fingers. She wanted him to burn the way she burned. She wanted him to match the pain that made her out to be who she was. She wanted them to suffer because she suffered plenty. She wanted to do whatever she wanted, and so she did. 

He reached for his tightening throat, eyes wide. 

The old doctor stared at the scene before him. “Do something!” he said. 

“No,” the man in the black suit smirked back. “Let her do what she needs.”

“Oh, Lord. This is-”

“Incredible. You really outdid yourself this time, Joseph.”

“But sir, she’s killing one of our men.”

“So let her have her fun, doctor. This man’s death is a heroic sacrifice. This right here is reason enough to celebrate that we just opened the doors to making history.”

She savored the feeling. It tasted oh so sweet. Never had she felt more in control than the moment she took his life. 

“Hm, very impressive, my child.” She saw the pride in his eyes through the now milky glass, stained by the condensation of her hot breath against the cold cage. 

She gritted her teeth. “What did you do to me?” she repeated the question. 

He chuckled at the useless anger she transmitted. “Oh, my child,” he said. “I didn’t do anything. You were simply born again.”

Eliza shot up on the kitchen floor. The tiles underneath her gleamed with cold sweat. She shivered. The temperature of her skin spiked, but her blood ran cold. She was freezing. 

The sun was already out and shining through the windows. The oven clock read 7:23. If she remembered correctly, her alarm was set for eight. 

She lifted her aching body off the floor. Every muscle protested. She downed two glasses of water to still the dry ache in her throat. 

The nightmares came and went. Often, she couldn’t even remember what she saw before she woke up. It had been a while since a dream this graphic continued for as long as it did. Eliza was losing her grip on reality. Sanity slipped through her fingers like water through a sieve. 

While she stood in the shower, she had to remind herself she wasn’t alone. Tony was an asshole, yes, and he didn’t believe her, but she wasn’t alone. She barely knew the masked vigilante, but Daredevil trusted her and in a way, they were connected. An invisible string tied their hearts together. 

As an Avenger, missions were easily explained by the obvious. Aliens, robots, super villains – these things were certain. This new life, however, was in no way the same. 

Eliza didn’t know how the story would continue or how it would end. She didn’t expect the world to turn so drastically because, in her mind, the world had already stopped. She expected a lot of things – she expected Tony to lose it, Natasha and the others to be caught, and she even expected a world-altering event that would eventually bring them together just so they could all die together in the end, but Hydra was never on the schedule.

The uncertainty was slowly killing her. Even as she tried to tell herself that some things just cannot be expected, she knew she was lying to herself. She was naked in the wrath of Hydra as they got ready to destroy everyone in their wake. 

Yet none of those things brought the unlikely duo anywhere near figuring out the truth - if it was even true or just a nightmare, or a stupid trick that was played on Eliza to drive her crazy. And the fact that she wasn’t smart enough or strong enough to manage this like she was taught to do made the hate and self-doubt bubble up inside of her like a geyser.

She looked at her face in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes were impossible to cover. Even with concealer, she could’ve passed as the zombie bride. “What happened to us?” she asked herself.

We grew up.

If this was what adulthood looked like, she didn’t want it.

At exactly 8:30 there was a knock on her door. 

“Happy!” she said.

“Good morning!” he eyed her carefully. “You alright?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” she smiled. “I’m almost done. Come on in.”

“How was your night?” He took a suspicious look around, but nothing seemed out of place. 

“It was good, yeah.” She’s always been an excellent liar. 

Happy stood helpless in the apartment. “I brought coffee,” and he handed her the cup. 

“Is that what I think it is?” Eliza grinned. 

The panic in his eyes began to spread. “A- a normal cappuccino with two sugars?” he said. 

She inhaled the roast. “Hmm,” she agreed, “perfect.”

He tried to look mean, but he still cracked up in the end. “We’ve got a lot of work to do today,” he told her on the way to the black limousine parked out front. 

“Yeah, like what?”

“What, did you forget?” He opened the door for her.

“No,” she instantly replied. “Of course not. I won't forget something as important as this.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.” 

The automatic window between the front and the back seat was open. He turned around to face her, eyebrows slightly knitted, and she already knew then and there that she fucked up. He didn’t even have to say it. He knew she was lying, or he suspected her to, and the guilty look she couldn’t help but put on only proved his theory right. 

“Just so we’re on the same page, what am I talking about again?” 

Eliza opened her mouth. Her left foot was already halfway into the trap. She gave it at least ten seconds of contemplation before she said, “The thing. You know, the important thing we have to do. Can’t believe you don’t remember.” 

Happy pursed his lips. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he played along. Of course, he did. 

“Can you refresh my memory?” he asked her. 

“It’s the thing , Happy,” Eliza said with the most conviction. 

He sighed loudly. “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Snap. The trap went shut around her ankles.

“I did, yes.” 

“I knew it! Can’t tell you anything. You keep it for like two seconds and then it’s gone.”

“I’m sorry!” she pouted. “I really am. Would you just tell me? If it’s so important.” 

“The party, Liz,” he said. 

“The party,” she repeated.

“Yes. It’s tonight.”

“Of course, the party.” She gnawed at her bottom lip. The trap was still closed tightly, with no way to escape. “Wait, what party?” she gave in to ask. Pretending was of no use, he already had her cornered.

“Seriously? You don’t even remember that part?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells, sorry. What party?”

“The Stark Party.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “ Oh! Oh, God. Oh, shit. Fuck.”

The legendary Stark Party was an annual event. Every year, Tony Stark invited foes and friends alike to join him for an evening of food, drinking, and dancing. Most of the time, it went overboard. Eliza spent many years living alongside him. As chaotic as it sounded, Stark Parties were a lot of fun. Sure, the potential for disaster was great, but it made the thrill even more exciting. 

That particular year though, the Stark Party wasn’t the same as it used to be. The Avengers were gone, their reputation scattered at the bottom of the ocean. They were food for the dogs. The press liked to speculate and they didn’t miss their chance to tear them down more than they already were. 

The demand for Tony to come out of hiding wasn’t the occasion for the party though. Tony’s Public Relations team and his managers got together and decided it would be best for him to turn the annual event into a gala in honor of the Sokovia Accords. In light of the damning events in Berlin, he was due for an official statement, and he owed it to the people to explain.

Eliza found that stupid. Tony didn’t owe an explanation. They weren’t on good speaking terms at the moment, but back when the party first became a topic of conversation, she almost lost it. He wasn’t responsible for soothing the public’s nerves. It wasn’t his responsibility to take all the blame. He didn’t deserve to be put in the spotlight for the sole purpose of stopping the rumor mill about the Avengers.

Every side had their valid points about the decisions they made, but they missed the point of the Accords by worlds and now she was stuck between the chairs, not sure if being called a traitor or murderer was worse. She heard it all at least once. 

“The Stark party,” Eliza asked. “Is that- is that tonight ? Like later today?”

“Yeah,” Happy answered - a disappointed and scrutinizing answer. “Honestly, how could you forget?”

She shrugged. “Getting old, I guess.”

“Liz, you’re twenty-three.”

“Mid-life crisis.”

“You’re not even halfway through your life.”

“I MIGHT DIE AT THIRTY!”

He sighed as loud as he humanly could. “You drive me up the walls, you know that?”

“You know you love me,” she retorted, lips quirked up behind the lid of the coffee cup.  

The black glass between the cockpit and the backseat slowly began to drive upwards. The automatic whirring of the remote made the slow closing sound even more painful. Happy kept his eyes in the rearview mirror the entire time it took for the divider to slide between them. 

Eliza plopped her mouth open. “You’re not seriously shutting me out,” she said. “Happy Hogan!”

She faced her reflection in the dark interior. Since all of the windows in the back were tinted one-way mirrors, she found herself between shades of black and grey leather seats. 

“I’m gonna put poison in your coffee.” Chances were he could still hear her. “And then I’m gonna wash all your white shirts with pink socks and poke holes into your shoes so that every time it rains, you get wet fucking feet.”

“Woah!” The glass muffled his voice. “That is so not cool!” he said. The whirring returned as the window drove back down. 

Eliza smirked. “Hi,” she said. 

“I hate you.”

“I hate myself too.”

“That’s-” he sighed, “That’s so sad.”

She snapped her fingers dramatically, index finger now pointed at the disappearing glass. “If you’re not gonna appreciate my comedic genius, put that thing back up.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny, they’re sad,” he argued. “You’re sad. It’s a problem.”

“Ah-ah!” She silenced him with the same extended finger. “I’m the funniest person in this house as of late and you can’t argue with that ‘cause it’s true. I may be sad, but at least I’m not all broody about it like the rest of you. You guys can be pretty boring sometimes. Brings the whole mood down, and it honestly kills my spirit. We used to have a lot more fun around here.”

She shuffled in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. The seatbelt ran underneath her armpit, sunglasses on the top of her head, and the coffee cup piping hot in her left hand - in her personal opinion, she’d never looked cooler. She watched her twin in the rearview mirror next to Happy’s naturally annoying facial expression and she couldn’t help but notice how, even though her night had sucked more than it should have, she did a much better job at pretending than the people around her. 

Happy shook his head. His lips tightened. “It’s not funny,” he said.

“At least I allow my depression to bring some sparkle to my personality,” she said. “Why cry about something you can’t change, anyway? Life’s too short to feel sorry for yourself.”

Eliza removed the sunglasses from her hair and slid them up her nose. 

He frowned at the indirect insult. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.” The defense came too quick, too fast. 

“It’s called personality , Happy. If you can’t laugh about yourself, you can’t live with yourself.”

“I laugh about myself.”

“Saying haha every time I make a joke doesn’t count as laughing.”

“It does because it’s the way I laugh. You have a problem with my laugh?”

She peeked over the brim of her sunglasses. “I think you just made my point,” she said. 

“I didn’t,” he said, insistent. 

“But you did.”

“You know what?” He pressed the button next to the steering wheel. “I can’t hear you right now.”

The window began to separate them again. 

“I only hear myself laughing. Haha .”

“Funny,” - Eliza slapped her hand against the glass - “But you’re still miserable.” The clanking of her rings against the window echoed in the secluded backseat. 

The dark was a comfort, the drive half an hour long. She sipped at the expensive paper cup Cappucino Happy got from her favorite place around the corner of her apartment (which wasn’t expensive, really, she just liked to think it was). The coffee tasted like sweet heaven on her tongue. Sometimes, when she pretended to be fine, she found herself reaching a point where she believed it. It was a fun little game that came with significantly higher stakes than therapy. There are some things that the latter just can’t fix. 

At least for the time being though, she focused on anything but the here and now. Reality almost broke her the previous night. Reality broke her in the mornings and it broke her during the day. The world was too full of pain to stop the inevitable. 

She couldn’t allow this to ruin her day. This, whatever this was. The unknown was something that unleashed years of pent-up pain and trauma and made it so much harder to push all those feelings back down. The unknown something that had a name - Hydra, but the name alone wasn’t enough to even sum up half of it, whatever it was.

When Eliza arrived at the compound, she remembered once again just how much planning went into a party of Tony Stark’s extent. It almost matched up to his ego, and what it lacked in size, it made up for in riches. Tony never hesitated to go all out with the planning. Alone the decorations were worth a middle-class worker’s monthly salary. 

The compound was the busiest it had been in years. Party planners scrambled in every possible corner, even in the driveway. The crowd of employees looked like they were closer to a mental breakdown than the main character in a horror movie stuck in the woods – Eliza felt bad for them. She saw the stress radiating off of them (literally). The explosion of colors hurt her eyes and it just wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t trying to, but the air was thick with anxiety, and she couldn’t help but absorb all the emotions that came with it. All she wanted was to make it stop, to make them stop, and to put the burning in her brain to rest for just a second so she could breathe. 

She told one of the stressed-out women she passed in the hallway to hand her the clipboard she was holding because she wanted to help, as stated. Her smile lit up the room. She handed her the pile of documents and hopped off, a few pounds of stress lighter. 

The deliveries came and went. Controlling the situation with bare hands was much more complicated than resolving the issue with the power of her mind. She realized soon enough that ‘party planner’ definitely wouldn’t go onto her list of preferred professions. 

Trays of food arrived together with an abundance of glasses in one box – for the love of God, she had no idea where they had to go – and a month’s worth of hard liquor in the other. Eventually, the woman she freed from the dreaded work came back. She shyly asked for the clipboard, telling her Tony asked for Eliza in his office. She didn’t want to, but what did she have to lose? He already made up his mind and to be honest, so had she. 

Eliza walked up to the door of his workspace. She punched in the entrance code next to the automatic doors. The lock clicked. Friday greeted her sweetly as she entered the room.

Tony stood around the big holographic table. Metal and screws littered the floor, Dum-E stood in the corner with the other robots, and used dishes from two days ago occupied the remaining free space. She didn’t even want to ask how long he’d been in there.

He finally looked up from whatever he was putting together on the hologram when he heard the AI’s voice announcing her presence. “Ah!” he clapped his hands together once, twice, and then, “There you are.”

“Hello to you, too,” Eliza said. Her eyes trailed warily around the room. She wasn’t sure what to make of the chaos - if she had to be worried or angry or impressed. It was hard to tell these days. 

“I don’t often say this,” - the tone of his voice suggested he, in fact, didn’t say this often - “But Happy told me I had to. For once, I agree with the stubborn pain in the ass. I have to tell you or else I’ll feel guilty for the rest of my life.”

“Get to the point,” she urged him. 

“My point is,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

He was right, the words as good as never left his mouth. 

“I had no right to yell at you. You were upset and I kept punishing you and I’m sorry for that, kid. I really am. Been breaking my head over it all night.”

Tony distanced himself from the table and walked over to the messy shelves in the opposite corner. He aimlessly searched around. Typical behavior - trying to apologize but refusing to be present for the apology. 

“I shouldn’t have used your past as an argument either. The drug test was uncalled for.” He still had his back turned to her. “I made a mistake. A stupid one. I admit that. It’s a new record for me. I was just trying to protect you, but I realize I might’ve overdone it or, well… executed it badly. Ah!”

He clapped his hands together again. Eliza expected him to return with whatever metal he needed for whatever he was building, but she was mistaken. He surprised her by walking up with a red box, a rather big one with a shiny bow. He placed it on the table, the blue of the holographic architectural plans reflecting off the material and shining through. 

“Here.” He patted it awkwardly. 

Eliza traced the paper. “What’s that?” she asked. 

“An apology,” he said. “No, it’s not really an apology and more of an ‘I’ll make it up to you’.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I don’t know. I’m not good at apologizing.”

He was honest about everything he said. Even though he sucked at telling people he was sorry, he wasn’t lying. He regretted what he did. The dark circles under his eyes were signs of sleep deprivation, hours of lying awake at night and wondering what he’d done wrong, and his clothes smelled of oil and Scotch. She wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough night. 

“I wanted to call, but I’m a coward, okay? I’m not made for this kind of stuff. I don’t… I don’t apologize often. I mean, I’m right most of the time. There ain’t a lot of reasons for me to apologize. The point is, I guess I was just trying to find a way to make up for it.”

“ You have been avoiding me , Tony,” Eliza said. She kept her voice calm. 

Apologies aren’t easy. Not everyone is good at giving them, but there’s a difference between apologizing without a reason and apologizing because you truly screwed up. 

“That’s on you. I’ve been doing what you told me to. I work with Pepper now and Happy drives me home every night,” she told him. “You had every chance to come up to me and talk it out.”

“I realize that,” he said. “Wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

“ You weren’t fair.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

Eliza sighed. Being mad at him was awful and as far as apologies go, this wasn’t so bad – still, she couldn’t get the words out of her head, telling her to stop, telling her she was paranoid. He couldn’t apologize for that, not as long as he believed it to be true.

Tony waited patiently for her to speak again. “I accept your apology,” she said. The mature decision. “But about what happened-”

“Oh, this again.” 

“Tony-”

“I hope for your sake the next words out of your mouth are that you agree you’ve overreacted,” he said. 

Her voice only strung together incoherent words. She broke off, lips parted, with a scoff. “You saw that the father of the woman I saved got shot yesterday?” she asked him. 

“Tragic,” Tony agreed. He smacked his lips. “But that doesn’t have to mean anything. Even if it does, you can’t do anything about it. None of us can. You need to realize this. Things aren’t the way they used to be. Why?  Are you still worried about this?”

She wanted to scream yes ! but she caught the look in his eyes, stubborn like he didn’t care about anything she said, not even the smallest word, and instantly, her guard went back up. His apology was nothing but hot air. 

“No. You were right,” she said. Her smile was rock-solid; she could crash windows with it. “Just thought you wanted to know.”

He started to beam. “I knew you’d come to your senses,” he said. She bit hard into the soft tissue of her cheek. “Now, open your present.”

Eliza unclenched her fists. The anger stood dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, waiting to bubble over. The little self-control she had was barely hanging in there. 

She slowly lowered the lid of the box. Play along with it, she told herself. Play along and this can all go away. 

“Oh, wow!” The golden silk of the contents built a contrast to the dark inside. “ Wow .”

“You like it?”

Eliza had no doubt he paid a fortune for this piece of clothing. She struggled to find the right words. Something swelled in her chest, the familiar feeling of home. She felt appreciated. His gifts tended to have that effect on her. 

“It’s a suit,” he explained. 

She once told him she didn’t like to wear dresses to Stark parties. The looks and unwanted attention of misogynistic men always faltered her confidence. At least he remembered something about her. She traced the soft silk. It ran through her fingers like water. “Thanks,” she managed to say eventually. “But this was probably very expensive. I- I can’t accept that.”

He snorted at the comment. “Since when has money ever been an issue for me, huh?”

“I wish it were, sometimes.” 

“Now don’t act so disappointed. This is for you , not for me. I got the designer to tailor it. I had to pull up the measurements from when I made your Avengers suit, but it was worth it. This thing’s gonna fit like a glove.”

Would it be so bad if she just accepted the suit and flaunted a little? There was nothing awful about accepting charity. Besides, he had it coming. If she ended up saving the world without him, he was the only one to blame. 

“Thank you. I’ve always wanted to wear one like this.” She didn’t lie, she loved the color and mixed with the silky fabric, he fulfilled her childhood dreams with one simple purchase. In the light of the situation though, she felt less like a princess and more like an object to be presented for a cause none of them believed in. 

Tony drummed his fingers against the table. He wasn’t done - he still got something in front of him that seemed like it didn’t belong there. She followed his hands carefully. He hesitated with the envelope for a second, thinking of something to say as he handed it to her.

Eliza stared down. “I don’t like to be handed things,” she said. 

“You already have it,” he retorted. She waved the paper back at him. “Don’t give it back to me. No!” He raised his arms. “I’m not gonna take it back, I won’t.“

“It’s not my fault! People never hand me things. You hate it too.” 

“And because I don’t like to be handed things, I’m not gonna take it back.” She was still waving around with the envelope. “Stop! Or I’ll have Dum-E spray you.”

The robot lifted his hand at the mention of his name. Eliza glared at him. “Do not!” she warned. He lowered the extinguisher with a disappointed beep .  

“Tony,” she turned back to the man. “What is this?”

He flinched back once she began to wave again. “An invitation,” he said.

“For what? Tonight? Am I not already on the guest list?”

“Not for you, smart-ass! I decided to invite your attorneys. The Nelson and Murdock guys. Maverick and Goose. Men in Black. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.” He pursed his lips. “You know, there’s a lot more where that came from. I’m waiting for an answer here.” 

“You did what ?” 

“Not what I was thinking about, but yeah. I’ve been thinking. Ross might take us more serious if we were represented by a good legal team, right? Might as well give it a shot.”

“You have a point somewhere in there,” she admitted. “But you’ve got a whole list of lawyers. Top-shot law firms would lick their fingers at an invitation to this thing. These two helped me out once and even then you basically did their job for them. This is embarrassing. Why them?” she asked. 

“That’s what I thought at first,” he said. “I told myself it’s a stupid idea, but then I remembered they’re technically your lawyers and not mine. So, it would be a great idea to invite them. Get some fresh blood up in this place. Spread the news. Don’t you think so?” 

“Now you have no point there.”

“You’re right, there’s not. I just like them. That’s it. I like them. The guest list was looking a little meek, so I decided to add them last minute. Besides, the Murdock guy managed to keep you in check. If I could, I would give him the Nobel Prize.” 

He grabbed a random pencil from the stack on the table. 

“I could hire him as your babysitter,” he said. “A good-looking babysitter, a babysitter that should’ve become a model rather than a lawyer, but still a babysitter.”

“First of all,” she said, “Ouch! Second of all, I don’t need a babysitter. And third of all, this isn’t a good idea! You can’t invite them.” She was grasping at straws now.

“Why not?” he asked.

‘Because you made a complete ass out of me’, she thought. They must’ve thought she was just another spoiled child, that she didn’t have her life under control. She was a troublemaker, they read her file, and that was enough for her to blush at the thought of looking either of them in the eye ever again.

Tony tapped the pencil against the table, then followed by hitting her in the nose. “You wanna answer me or are you just gonna keep doing that adorable thinking face?”

She flinched. “It’s not adorable.”

“You’re pouting. It’s disgusting.”

“You can’t invite my lawyers!” Eliza cried out. “You can’t.” Her voice rose about two octaves higher - she sounded like a stranger to herself. 

“Woah,” he said. “I know you have a crush on that Murdock guy, just didn’t think you’d be such a schoolgirl about it. I thought you were an adult, or so you keep telling me.” 

Her brain went into full system failure. “Wh- Huh ?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t undress him with your eyes back at the station. I saw it. I wish I hadn’t – ugh, don’t like the thought of you liking anybody – but I did. It was even more obvious than the fact that Happy’s been carrying my engagement ring for Pepper around with him since 2008.” 

She laughed. “I don’t have a crush on Matthew Murdock! It’s ridiculous,” she said. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh yeah, then why’s your voice so high?”

“Well… I- I mean… you’re making me very uncomfortable!” 

Tony chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.” He poured himself a glass of Scotch from the tray he always kept next to his worktable. Everywhere he went, the tray of liquor was never far behind. “They’re invited,” he stated. “End of story. I need you to bring the invitation to them. Didn’t have time to prepare the mail. The party’s in–“ he checked his watch, “–nine hours. Go to their little law firm and hand it over. Maybe don’t have sex while you’re at it. I’m not ready to be a grandfather just yet.”

“Oh, my God, Tony!” The blood hammered hard against her cheeks. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing, just stating the obvious.”

“None of that’s obvious because it isn’t true !” She whined in defeat, “I don’t even know the guy.”

Eliza was already sexually confused about everything and everyone and now that he’d planted the possibility in her head, she couldn’t help but overthink that she might find Matthew Murdock particularly attractive. 

Tony wasn’t playing a fair game.

He set his glass down. “You have lunch break now anyway,” he said. “You can use that time to be productive. Already cleared that with Pepper. She agrees that this would be good for you. Anyway, I’m supposed to be your boss today, so I don’t want to tell you twice. Off you go,” - he clapped - “Chop, chop!”

With the suit under her arm and the envelope in her rather sweaty hands, Eliza made her way out of the workspace. She had to get down to Hell’s Kitchen, give them the envelope, and then run as fast as she could. That way she could forego making a fool out of herself again. Keeping conversation to a minimum, just hand it over and leave. Math was harder. Math would always be harder.

✧

Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at Law.

“Hi, do you remember me?” she rehearsed, nervously jumping from one foot to the other. “I’m the girl that got herself in a fuck ton of trouble the other night and you came to bail me out. Beat up some guys in a butcher shop. The Avenger girl with anger issues? Yeah, Tony Stark paid you off. Then he treated me like a fucking child by making a huge fucking scene for everyone to watch, which is why I’m fucking embarrassed and I can’t do this !” 

She turned around. Maybe she could slip it under the door. No, she had to enter the building for that. Perhaps Tony wouldn’t question it if she just told him they had other plans, like an important case the next day or any other lie that was even remotely better than this one. She could make it work. 

“No!” she had promised herself once she wouldn’t avoid things just because they gave her anxiety. “You can do this,” she told herself. “It’s just an invitation. It’ll be fine.”

Her heart was beating so fast, that she felt the thudding in her throat. There wasn’t enough spit in the world to make it work. 

“I can do this,” she said again.

She was still standing stiff as a tree. The envelope already crinkled at the sides from the many attempts to calm her twitching fingers.

“I can do this. Just, go in. Go.” Her legs didn’t budge. “Come on. I can always resort to shooting myself if things go wrong. It’ll be fine.”

Hesitantly, she took a step forward. “Oh, god! I can’t do this.”

The door burst open. She stumbled a few inches back. Instead of Nelson or Murdock though, an old man came out of the building. He eyed her curiously.

“Good morning,” Eliza greeted him awkwardly.

“Hello, young lady,” he said. “Were you just talking to yourself?”

“What? Me? No. No, that was someone else.”

He titled his head. “Hm. You sure you’re alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I just… I got a meeting with my lawyers,” she said.

“Oh, the Nelson and Murdock boys? Yes, I know them. Very nice people. Their secretary is nice too. I think her name’s Kate or somethin’. I’m no good with names. Comes with age, y’know. But the Nelson and Murdock boys? I know them. Great neighbors, and great lawyers. Great bunch of guys altogether.” 

“Oh, that’s- great .” More people meant more possibility to ridicule herself. “Very nice.” 

The man watched her with narrowed eyes. “You look nervous,” he observed.

“Yeah,” Eliza laughed.

“Young people these days! Dunno what’s your deal, kid, but allow me to tell you; sometimes you just gotta jump into the cold water to learn how to swim. We didn’t have any training wheels back in the day. If you don’t try, you’ll never know.”

She took a deep breath. The man was right. She could do this. She had to learn how to swim before she drowned. 

“Thank you,” she meant it.

The man passed her by with a lecturing finger. “Life’s too short to think about what could happen. Sometimes you just gotta do it.”

“Thanks. That was- yeah, that helped a lot. Have a good day, sir!”

“Good day to you too, lady.”

She watched him retreat with his back slightly hunched. He seemed like a happy little old man. He probably had no idea he just gave her the best kick in the ass she ever had. Eyeing him, she could’ve sworn she knew him from somewhere, but he was gone before she could put her finger on it. 

With another deep breath, she went in. Nelson & Murdock stood written on a makeshift piece of carton on the office door. She expected something a lot more sophisticated, but if you spend your life dealing with Tony Stark’s lawyers and Pepper Potts’ clientele, you get used to hot-shot stick-in-the-ass people that work and live in an expensive high-rise.

Eliza brought her fist up to the glass. She knocked carefully, afraid she might knock it out if she hit too hard.

“Come in,” the friendly female voice said from the inside.

Her hand shook around the handle.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“Oh, hello.” The blonde smiled at her. “Welcome,” – she rose from her chair – “Uh, how can I help you?” she asked.

She was a kind-hearted person, someone who always saw the good in people because she was too accustomed to the bad of her past that she desperately needed something new, something fresh in her life. Once she had that, she held onto it with all she had, even if it meant making sacrifices. The happiness of the people around her was more important than her own. She tried to keep together what belonged together even if it meant tearing herself apart inch by inch.

Eliza snapped herself out of it before the staring could get any weirder. “Yeah, hi. I’m looking for Nelson and Murdock?” she said.

The woman smiled. “You’re in the right place! I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Karen Page.” She offered her hand.

“Eliza Bennett.”

“Oh, you’ve got a firm shake.“

“Jesus, sorry!” She retracted her hand. “Force of habit.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” Karen swayed as she laughed. “So are you here for a case or…” she asked

“I’m looking for Nelson and Murdock,” Eliza said. “In, uh, person.”

Foggy gracefully twirled around the corner of his office, elbow leaning against the doorframe. “You’re in the right place, baby,” he said. “Long time no see, Miss Bennett! What’ve you been up to?”

“I haven’t killed anyone this time if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Great because otherwise, we’d have a problem.”

Eliza snorted. Upon seeing the light in his eyes she had to smile. 

“Wait,” he said, “Did you say this time ? What about last time? Did you kill someone?” He whispered the last part, knowing it wasn’t true, though there was some doubt etched in his expression. 

She shrugged. “Guess you’ll never know.” She tried to keep it light, but even her voice carried more weight than it should have.

She hadn’t killed anyone lately . She still committed murder more than once and so technically, she was lying. She was lying to everyone and herself, hoping it would turn her into someone normal, ordinary. It didn’t. She was still a killer, retired or not. 

Foggy clapped, then opened his arms as if he was doing yoga to greet the sun. “Welcome to our humble abode. You’ve met our paralegal, Karen Page. Mister Tall And Broody over there-“

The door across the hall opened. 

“Has finally decided to join us!” he said. “Matt, we’ve got a visitor. You know her. It’s our client from two days ago. You know, the one who got us paid.”

He stood with both hands on his hips. His hair was ruffled in more places than one, his cheeks flushed, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. The red glasses looked lighter in the daylight. 

He called her name distantly. “Eliza!” she loved the sound of her name on his lips. It was different from the formal title of the last name she was given. The way he said it held a special place in her heart. 

As soon as Eliza stepped foot into the building, he could smell her. The scent of her lingered in the room like a thick cloud. He wasn’t complaining, not at all. She was everywhere. The distinctive smell of her got stuck in his nose the moment they met. He heard her heartbeat across the city. He heard her rehearse the speech in front of the building. It wasn’t like he’d been searching for her, but Eliza was so hard to get rid of that he simply gave up on trying to ignore his senses.

She lifted her hand, waving at him. “Hi,” she said. He felt the gush of wind coming from her. 

“She just waved,” Foggy told him. 

Matt chuckled. “Right. Hi .” At this point, she was sure he was teasing her intentionally. First her name, then this. He was doing it on purpose. He licked his lips, leaving a wet trail on the soft skin. “Can I- we help you?” he asked. 

Eliza cleared her throat. “I’ve got something for you,” she said.

Matt didn’t miss the way her heartbeat picked up at the sight. It had a distinctive rhythm he could make out anywhere, but the change of speed was new. She didn’t have that the first time they interacted. She’d been rather curious, worked up from the events of the night. She was still worked up, but as soon as she saw him, something changed. He could smell it. He tasted it in the air. Pheromones.

“What do you have for us, Miss Bennett?”

Eliza damned him. Little did she know he could hear exactly how her breath hitched whenever he used the name for her. He didn’t need any more proof. The taste in the air was clear as day, at least to him. He made sure to lick his lips again. He was on a sugar high by then, fueled by the victory of turning her head in circles like a carousel, and the way he behaved was utterly ridiculous now that he thought of it. 

She awkwardly cleared her throat again. “I come on behalf of Tony Stark,” she said. “He’s got something for you.”

Karen watched the exchange of the envelope with wide eyes. “Tony Stark?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

Foggy weighed the invitation in his hand. “She’s the Avenger chick I told you about,” he said. 

“Oh, she - oh, my god! I thought I remembered that face from somewhere but I couldn’t sort it. So you’re the, uh, Avenger,” – she eyed her from top to bottom and then the same in reverse, all over again as her voice faltered in tone – “I don’t know what to say. I expected you to be…” she blew her cheeks. 

“Older?” Eliza suggested.

“Yeah, maybe. I just… I didn’t think you were old, but I- well, doesn’t matter. Um, how old are you, if I may ask?” 

“Karen,” Matt said. At this point, it wasn’t yet a warning, not even a threat, but it bordered on it. 

“Twenty-three,” she said. 

Karen chuckled in disbelief. “ Twenty-three ?”

Eliza didn’t miss the jab she sent hurling towards her with the sole power of her words. She was aware of how young she was compared to everyone else. People always talked about how she wasn’t mature enough, how she didn’t fit in because she was less experienced, less educated, less old . She was twenty-three but well aware that everyone considered her a child.  

She was aware of how the people in her life always excluded her from important decisions or meetings or conversations even, simply because they believed her to be incapable of taking anything seriously. They considered her not stable or old enough for the truth. Only a handful of the Avengers ever saw her as the person she was – they saw her abilities. While trying to protect her, they still put her on an equal pedestal. 

Being the youngest had its perks, sure, but it also came with a lot of prejudice, not only in her line of work but also in the response of the media when she first landed in the Bulletin at the ripe age of nineteen. She’d learned a lot since then. 

She played it cool. 

“I’m not as young as it sounds,” she said. 

“Yeah, of course! I wasn’t insinuating anything,” Karen jumped to her defense. 

“Of course, not.” She smiled sourly. “I understand.” It wasn’t her fault that the words hurt her more than they should have. 

“Karen,” Matt’s tone turned into a warning. She entered dangerous territory.

Karen turned to him. “What?”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, more to Eliza than anyone else. “Uh, h-how have you been, Miss Bennett?”

She took back anything she’d said about his chuckle. The most endearing thing about him, unchallenged, was his smile. His eyes crinkled at the sides while his teeth were full out – the kind of smile that was just so contagious that she became sick. 

“I hope there hasn’t been any trouble since the other night. We didn’t really get the chance to talk. Everything alright?”

She smiled, she couldn’t help it. His smile was too charming. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m sorry about the way things ended. I didn’t want to leave you guys standing like that.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “It’s fine. It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything.” He touched his glasses again, keeping them in place. They weren’t slipping, he was just so damn nervous. “I- we were more worried about you. I hope Mister Stark wasn’t too angry about the whole thing.” 

“He’s a complicated person. He likes to steal the spotlight too. You guys were the ones who saved my ass. I honestly had no hope of getting out of there until you came in.”

“Well, we were just doing our jobs.”

“You’re good at your job.”

“Thank you. We, uh, don’t have many clients to compare reviews so it’s pretty hard to tell sometimes.”

“I don’t have many lawyers to compare you to either – well, I don’t have any lawyers. I usually just commit a crime and hope I get away with it. Worked pretty well ‘till now.”

“That’s awful,” he joked. “You broke your lucky streak.”

Eliza couldn’t contain the laughter. The second it left her mouth, she regretted ever making that sound. There was a reason she didn’t laugh , ever.

Matt, however, got locked in his smile. He listened to her laugh and at that moment he just prayed . Even the darkness he saw at night was nothing compared to the light lurking beneath the surface. She was just so used to the darkness that she was afraid to show who she truly was.

Someone cleared their throat next to them. “Uh, not to be a cockblock or anything,” Foggy said, “but some of us are lonely.”

A ghastly reminder that they weren’t alone. They turned to him.

“I mean, I’m not lonely. I’m pretty much in the scene, y’know. Women love me.”

Eliza squeaked, “Oh.”

Matt threw a thumbs-up. Very smooth, it was supposed to say. Well done, Foggy.

He buffed his chest. “Yeah, and I’m proud of that. Just wanted to remind you that there’s actual lonely people out there, which I am not a part of.”

His friend just shook his head. To regain at least some of his dignity, he asked, “So, this envelope. What does Stark want?”

“Right,” Eliza said. “Completely forgot about that part. Uh, I know it’s pretty late but Tony told me to inform you that there’s a party tonight, at the compound. He, uh, wants you guys there. It’s fine if you can’t make it though. He wouldn’t be mad.”

Foggy finally managed to break the seal of the envelope. He skimmed over the first few words until he found their names on the bottom and the official request, followed by the date and dress code information. “YES!” his voice boomed off the walls. 

“A party?” Matt asked.

She turned to him. “Yeah, to honor the Sokovia Accords. A bunch of politicians and their dates stuffed together in a room. You know, that kind of party. But it’s not just them, don’t worry,” she instantly back-paddled. She didn’t want to lie to them, not with the excitement in Foggy’s preciously blue eyes. “Tony just wants us to get on the public’s good side again,” she said.

Karen thought it to be safe to enter the conversation again, although she treaded lightly over broken glass. “Yeah, I heard what happened,” she said. The jab was still there. She heard it loud and clear. Though she believed Karen didn’t even notice herself. “I’m sorry. For all it’s worth, I never considered you the bad guys.” 

Eliza pursed her lips. “Thanks. That’s… yeah. Glad you think so.” There wasn’t more to it. 

“It’s tonight?” Matt questioned again.

“Yeah.”

“Are- Are you gonna be there?”

She bit her lip to stifle the pathetic giggle. “I mean, yeah. I- I kind of have to. Joining these things is kinda in my job description.” 

“So you don’t have any other plans?”

“Not really, no.” Lie. 

The double life was harder than expected. Part of her wanted to come clean because damn it! She needed to talk to someone about what was happening. Though she knew she couldn’t tell anyone. The truth would only end in chaos or get her arrested again. Matt would go crazy if he knew, she figured. He was the last person she could tell, including Tony and Pepper, especially. Happy, maybe, but she didn’t want to put him in that position. It truly was an unfortunate predicament. 

Matt hummed at her answer, not quite happy about it, but satisfied. “Okay, sounds fun. Foggy?” 

Foggy held the invitation like it was an expensive diamond. His eyes were wide, almost loving. “Oh yes,” he whispered. “We’ll be there and we’re gonna look absolutely fucking dashing !”

Eliza chuckled. “With you, I don’t doubt that.” She turned to Karen then. “You’re coming too, right?”

Karen blinked. “ Me ?” she asked.

“Yeah, you’re their paralegal. You belong to the firm. Tony invited you all, so you’re entailed.” 

“I can’t possibly- I mean, I don’t want to intrude. Parties aren’t exactly my thing.”

“Oh, come on, Karen!” Foggy said. “It’s a Stark Party. The best kind of party. A national treasure. This is-“ he lifted the black envelope, “-this is what everybody wants. Not everyone has it, it’s not an STD, thankfully. No! This thing is a rarity.”

She knew he was holding back on his excitement. He was adorable, too good for this terrible world. He was the kind of friend everyone wanted but hardly anyone appreciated just enough.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a thing anymore,” it bubbled out of Karen without thinking.

This time, Eliza couldn’t help but look offended. “I’m sorry?” she said.

“Oh! Oh, my god!” She chuckled into her hand. “It’s not- I’m sorry. Man, I’m killing it right now. I like you, I do, this is just new to me. And honestly, I’m not Foggy. I don’t think Tony Stark is such a big deal anymore.”

She was less offended now. Why is it that society always wants to pit women against each other so much that you begin to internalize it?

“Karen,” Matt warned again.

“No,” Eliza reassured her. “Tony Stark is just another rich guy with too much power and money. I get why you think that way. I just, I take easy offense when people talk about the Avengers like I didn’t just lose half my friends.”

“Yeah,” Karen smiled. “I think the same way. After the whole Wilson Fisk story, I’m a bit wary of rich people. Don’t know if you heard, but he screwed with us, almost forcing us to close our doors for good.”

“Yeah, I heard. Was pretty big in the news. Trust me, I’m not one of them. The only rich thing about me is the fact that I can steal Tony’s credit card and he would never know.”

“Really?” Foggy cut in. “Can you steal it for me?” She frowned at him. “Not that I condone credit card fraud,” he clarified. “I’m on the side of the law, of course. I was just thinking, hypothetically, could you do it?” 

Eliza shook her head slightly. “I doubt that,” she said. 

He stomped his foot. “Damn it!” 

“I can use his Amazon account though. Claim it was my idea.” 

“Prime?”

“Yeah.” 

“Could you buy me a pair of sneakers? Hypothetically .” 

“Sure,” she chuckled. “Why not?”

“Sweet!” 

“Great.” Eliza checked her watch. “Anyway, I still gotta get lunch before I get hangry and commit homicide. I’ll see you guys tonight?”

“You bet your sweet ass we will!” Foggy said.

She snapped her fingers. “That’s the spirit!”

Matt called her name again. She turned around. Her heart sank deeper into her stomach where flowers and plants grew in bulks.

“I’m gonna walk you out,” he said. 

He felt the wall down until he reached the cane placed against the corner of his office.

“You don’t have to,” she said. 

Matt smiled. “I know.”

“Oh, okay. I just-“She stepped through the door first, holding it wide open. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

Karen and Foggy watched curiously; Eliza and Matt interacted with such ease it was almost suspicious – the door fell into their faces, but Foggy knew instantly.

“He’s not gonna come back anytime soon.”

Karen turned. “What?” she asked. 

“They’re gonna get lunch together, then Matt’s gonna make a move and she’s gonna act on it because these two idiots have got a lot of unresolved sexual tension that I don’t know where it’s coming from, but it’s there.”

“You- Matt and Eliza, really?” Karen sat down, head propped up on her hand.

“Yeah, you didn’t see it?” he asked. “Matt got all flustered the second she came in here. I’d be damned if he doesn’t take her ass out on a proper date by the end of this week. Nah, let’s give it a day. After tonight, I’m gonna plan their wedding.”

“Don’t you think she’s… I don’t know.”

“What, Karen? Annoying? She is, but so is Matt. They finish each other’s sandwiches or something, like in that Frozen song.”

“They’ve met once .”

“So? Ever heard of love at first sight? I’m not saying they’re in love, I’m just saying they need to have sex soon because I can’t watch that happen every day without either of them doing anything about it.”

“Foggy,” Karen tried again, “she’s twenty-three.”

He slowly lowered the envelope. “That’s what this is,” he said.

“What?”

“You think the age gap’s too big.”

“Yeah, I mean, ten years is a lot. Or, I think it’s eleven now, even. I know she’s not a child, but come on! She’s twenty-three, Foggy,” she said. “That girl doesn’t have her life figured out.”

“Neither does Matt.”

“What if they do end up together and she hurts him?”

Foggy continued to act unbothered. He made up his mind. “That’s not gonna happen.” He reached for the coffee cup he’d left on Karen’s desk. “He’s gonna hurt her before she can hurt him. Then they’re gonna hurt each other because that’s just the kind of people they are, Karen. They’re complicated.” 

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

“No,” he said. “Try not to think too hard. Just because Eliza’s young doesn’t make her less eligible than someone Matt’s age. And even if it doesn’t work out, it’s none of our business.”

“Why are you being so passive-aggressive?” she asked him.

“Because you’re acting a little jealous, Karen, and I don’t like that energy up in my shipping space.”

“ What ?” 

“You heard me. Have a good lunch.”

Foggy closed the door to his office.

✧

The sun burned down on them as soon as they stepped out of the building. Eliza slowed her step. Matt stopped in front of her, cane firm in his hands. He was still smiling by the time they got out.

“Thanks,” she said. “For walking me out.”

He chuckled. “Is it too late to say that it was just an excuse to get you alone?”

“What?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I wanted to talk to you but we didn’t exactly get a chance. The walls in the office are pretty thin, so…” he said. She didn’t miss the blush he tried to hide by lowering his head.

Eliza wiped her hands on her jeans. “Oh,” was all she could say.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I-”

“Oh? No. No, I just, this all comes a little… unexpected?”

“Eliza,” he said her name again with such certainty. “Would you like to grab lunch with me?”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah, I’d like to get to know you, if you’d let me.”

Matt chuckled nervously. He mistook the change in her heartbeat for rejection. The way she couldn’t speak, too shocked to form any coherent words. He felt the doubt settle in. What did he think about asking her out, anyway? The lines were blurry; he didn’t know if this was Matthew or Daredevil deciding for him.  

“You know what,” he said, “forget I said anything. I don’t know what came over me. Some lines shouldn’t be crossed. I understand that you’re uncomfortable.” He sounded disappointed, more in himself than her. 

She didn’t like the way his head hung low, his stance changed, and the death grip on his cane. He was hurt, he thought she rejected him, but that wasn’t her intention. Eliza simply had no idea how to react to someone asking her out, especially not so gracefully.

“Oh, my god,” she said. “No! I’m not uncomfortable. Jesus, no. I’m flattered, actually.”

“But you don’t want to go out with me.” He opened his arms a little. His gesture was directed at his cane and the glasses on his face. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m probably not the kind of man you’re looking for.”

“What?” Eliza said again.

“Yeah, the men you’re with are probably a lot more… able .“ he smacked his lips. “I just made a fool out of myself.”  

She honestly still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The revelation that he was doubting himself because of the one thing she didn’t even notice – made her angry. 

“Matt,” she tried and this time, she found the words. Her brain finished rebooting. He lifted his head as she mentioned his name. “I’m not uncomfortable. Or, I am but not because of you. I’m uncomfortable because of myself. I’m just not used to people asking me out on dates, okay? I’m socially awkward and I don’t fucking know how to react when someone is kind to me. When someone tells me they like me I say, thank you. Who does that?” she said. “Point is, this isn’t because of you. Oh, god! I’m the idiot. And you’re… well, you’re you . Of course, I’d like to go to lunch with you. This isn’t even a question. Anyone who’d say no to that, to you, is an idiot.”

Matt exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Men don’t ask you out?” he asked.

Eliza shrugged. “Men, women, no one does.” She’d gotten used to it fairly quickly.

“What are they, blind?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst out laughing. He joined in softly. The sound of her laugh outmatched the soft singing of the birds in the trees. He wanted to frame it, tape it, and listen to it every day for the rest of his life. 

She wiped at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her laughter faded into giggles. “Well, now that we’ve established we both want it, why don’t we go and find a place to have lunch? I think I know someplace around here.” 

Matt nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

She took his hand and placed it on her upper arm like it was the most normal thing in the world for her to do. He took the offer gladly and held onto her bicep firmly, but not too hard. He wasn’t hurting her, but his hand was there and she felt it soft against her shirt.

“I’m, uh, sorry for assuming you didn’t want to go out with me because of… well, I think it’s pretty obvious. I think too much sometimes,” he said.

Eliza smiled at him. “I promise you, I’m not that kind of person. I didn’t even notice you’re blind. I mean, I did notice, but it was more like, oh that’s Matt Murdock, not oh that’s blind Matt Murdock. ”

His heart swelled. He couldn’t help it. No one had ever touched him quite as she did. Eliza had a deeper understanding of the world that most brains could only dream of having.

“I’ve noticed you didn’t even once say something about my blindness,” he said. “I blamed it on the fact we only met once, but you don’t look at me the way others do. I’m used to people walking on eggshells around me, treating me like broken glass even though I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You don’t.”

“I mean, yeah. You’re a person. I don’t know why so many people make such a big deal about disabilities. They consider anything that goes against the neurotypical view of humanity fragile. To your left,” she paused to pull him aside. A couple passed by them. “About ten steps, crossing the street.” 

She led them to the other side.

“Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes! Once you’re on the neurodiversity spectrum, people tend to see you as less than you are because you’re disabled in some way,” she said. “Did you know, mental illness is essentially considered a disability too? Which makes most of the population disabled in one way or another. Nearly one out of five US adults live with a mental illness. That’s around twenty-six percent. Physical or mental disabilities range around sixty-one million Americans. Add that together, you have more than half of the US population that’s living with any sort of disability on a day-to-day basis.”

Matt never considered himself someone who got easily turned on. The women he was with fell for his charms easily. It was rare that he was so instantly attracted to someone. 

Eliza nudged him a little. “Few steps to the right.”

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to listen to her, savor it until his dying breath. He couldn’t get enough of it. Eliza was getting him riled up without even knowing. 

“I know that’s just numbers and math isn’t really my thing, but I’ve studied the statistics and I can say they’re pretty accurate. Of course, there’s still the benefit of the doubt. You can’t generalize everyone just because someone treats you like porcelain once. A lot of people aren’t ableists. I like to think that there are still good people left in the world, and even if they treat you like glass, it’s easy to educate them,” she said. “Most let you. It’s the society that makes us wary of disabilities. The way we are brought up imprints the views we carry around with us. People involuntarily see the disability before they see the person. It’s not only wrong but it’s also incredibly offensive. Reducing yourself to your disability only makes you insecure, and no one should feel bad about who they are. What ?”

Matt tried so hard to keep himself together, but no matter how hard, he failed miserably. The way he smiled probably gave him away.

“Nothing,” he said, voice breathy.

“You- you’re looking at me like-“

“I can’t really look anywhere.”

“Wow!” but she laughed anyway. “No, seriously, you have this, like, expression on your face. What is it?”

“I like the sound of your voice,” he admitted.

“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed red.

She wished for him to place these stupidly plump lips on hers, to eat her like she was his last meal on death row. His voice left no space for interpretation. He was fucking horny. 

They crossed the street again. His grip tightened a little around her arm. The corner café she wanted to take him came into view slowly, beautiful flowers of a great variety planted in painted pottery outside with red windows surrounding the exterior. A touch of color in the darkness that was Hell’s Kitchen.

“Can I ask you something?” Matt said.

Eliza hummed. “Yeah?”

“Are you religious?”

“Religious?” she asked.

“Yeah, do you believe in God?”

“I don’t- I’m not-“ she scoffed, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?” he asked. 

She directed her eyes to the clear sky. ‘Do you believe in God?’ He was catholic, the question only made sense. Matt Murdock seemed like the overly dedicated type of man, after all. 

If there was one thing she loathed to talk about more than anything it was the subject of humans following the guidelines of a series of books written for the sole purpose of serving a higher power in the sky. She believed there was life beyond the universe - she knew for a fact life wasn’t limited to existence on Earth and the possibility of a multiverse wasn’t so far off. Though she struggled to have faith in something as complex as the entity of God. Many people worshipped the main character of the bible. The prophets, the angels, and even the martyrs dedicated their lives to the cause. It was remarkable, but what purpose does it serve to believe in a God that refuses to help when bad things happen to his precious human race? War, famine, sexism, racism, ableism, rape, the sterilization of little girls and so much more evil continues to happen all around the world for absolutely no reason - why would a powerful deity ignore this?

Eliza actively began to question the meaning behind blind faith and faith itself, religion, and God’s existence only after she joined SHIELD. She’d only just gotten her mind back; Hydra twisted her view on religion ever since she was a child, so having the opportunity to form her own opinion by educating herself was somewhat of a blessing in disguise. Though in search of the truth, she discovered that what she had been forced to believe didn’t add up with her perception of the world. 

She had huge respect for people like Matt who stood by their faith. He took it seriously. His mind was open enough to allow the concept to manifest. By believing in God, he proved his ability to believe in the good. What was broken, he tried his hardest to fix. He decided to take her case because he believed she was more than a basket case. She wasn’t a lost cause. His catholicism kept him going. It was impressive and as much as the question pained her to hear, she could understand why he chose to ask her something as intimate as her religious point of view. 

“You alright?” Matt asked after she’d grown significantly quieter. 

Eliza breathed out. “Yeah,” she said. Her arm tensed under his hold. He tried to soothe his thumb over her skin, but it did little to ease her muscles. She was emotionally bottled up, locked up like a maximum security prison with no means of escape, something he knew all too well. 

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He smiled at her. 

She assured him that it was fine. “I just… I don’t even know where to begin. My whole life I’ve been somewhat conflicted about God. The question sounds so easy, but it isn’t,” she explained. “I can’t tell you why exactly, but I wasn’t allowed to talk about religion, ever. I memorized prayers and I listened to preachers, but I never learned how to deal with what I heard because I wasn’t supposed to question it.” 

He inched closer for maximum comfort, but his proximity was suffocating. The heat radiating off of him mixed with his scent made matters only worse and he didn’t even realize it. 

“I’m sorry,” his breath tickled her ear. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He realized she was uncomfortable. He also realized it wasn’t entirely because of their conversation. She tried to hide it, but unlike lying, she wasn’t very good at pretending. Matt heard every little change in her voice. Sometimes the pitch changed, sometimes she talked faster, sometimes slower, and sometimes she made her voice sound a certain way to divert attention from what was lying underneath the several layers of cement shielding her heart from hurt. 

She could control her heartbeat to trick her body, to trick her enemies and her friends, but even completely calm, the rhythm changed significantly for his ears. A normal person wouldn’t have realized it; he knew what her heart sounded like in its natural state, when she was scared or when she was angry - when she was trying to pretend or lie, there was the smallest pick-up in heart rate and it changed the tune. 

Her voice couldn’t have been softer though. She kept up the act, even as the tension rolled down her throat like acid, and it was getting harder to breathe. 

She cleared her throat then, finally. “I suppose it’s not that I’m not religious,” she said. “I used to pray when I was a kid because I had to. I didn’t have a choice, you know. When I didn’t follow the rules, they would punish me. So I prayed. Not because I wanted to. I was just scared. I was scared of God, mostly. He was this all-powerful being and I was this little kid praying to him. I was promised that if I didn’t do as I was told, I would suffer a worse fate for my sins. So yeah, I was scared of God. Part of me still is, I guess.”

The clarification put space between them. 

“God failed me. After I became an Agent at SHIELD, I figured it was of no use to pray and hope for a happy ending. No one was listening anyway. Why should I bruise my knees if I get nothing in return, y’know?”

Matt chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I know exactly what you mean,” he said. His voice was rough, lower than usual, maybe even bitter in a way. 

She placed her hand over his where he kept it on her bicep. He flinched slightly, fingers flexing. She did it without warning, without indication. Her touch suddenly appeared and it was soft, so fucking soft, he could’ve sworn it wasn’t real, nothing but a fever dream concocted by his mind to play tricks on him and his delicate feelings. 

“How about you?” Eliza asked. “You said you were Catholic.“

The memory caused him to smile. “Yeah, I’m catholic,” he said. “I grew up that way. I believe in God, I guess I always have. It’s not something I can turn off. Once you’ve devoted your life to the cause, there’s little that can sway you, no matter how bad it hurts. As you said, it’s complicated.” 

“So how do you do it?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“No idea.”

Her hand tightened around his hand as she laughed. 

“I’ve lost my way more than once. It’s not easy to keep believing when everything…” he sighed, “Just doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

Eliza stared at the gravel beneath their feet. “It won’t ever be enough,” she said quietly. 

“Yeah, but I’m catholic. It’s who I am. No matter how little faith I have left, I can’t change who I am.” 

“God owns you.” 

They stopped for reasons unknown. He couldn’t have cared less. The comfort of her presence shut everything else out. He didn’t care about the family across the street, the child crying only a few feet away, nor did he care about the couples displaying their affection in every corner imaginable. It was just him, Eliza, and the sun. 

The sun stroked his face, gentle hands on his stubbled cheeks. He lifted his chin, basking in it. Hot and heavy she made her throne on his skin. The warmth reached deep into his chest, summer in his senses. Her voice and the sweet, sweet words followed the heat. They lay in the pit of his stomach, waiting to be processed, but he couldn’t. Not just yet. He felt content in her presence, all the world deaf to him. He wanted to feel safe just a little longer.

“You take the words from my mouth,” he muttered. 

Eliza pouted, “Maybe I’m a mind reader.”

“Maybe you are.” He laughed softly. “Or maybe we’re just too alike.”

“ Too? Is it a bad thing?” she asked. “For us to be alike, I mean.”

“No,” he said, certain, clear as the day. 

“Good, I’m glad.” She watched him watch the sun - he wasn’t watching it, per se, he was feeling it. Matt experienced the light with all of the remaining senses. He soaked up everything the sun had to give and then asked for more, and she gave it to him. He looked so beautiful in the yellow light. 

 “Feels like I sold my soul to him a long time ago and now-” he scoffed. She gawked at him, surprised at the honesty, no longer lost in the feeling of attraction. Rather, she was curious. “Now I have to suffer the consequences,” he said. “I’m his disciple. I grew up in a catholic orphanage. I made sacrifices to get where I am now. I just didn’t realize the kind of responsibility that comes with devotion.”

Eliza breathed softly. Her fingers caressed his again. ‘ Oh ’, she made the sound. 

“I’ve been to church a lot since the night I met you.” 

“Oh!” this time, louder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Was it something I did?”

Matt laughed. He turned away from the sun, head tilting her way. His ears searched for the source of her voice until it appeared as if he was looking at her. 

“You didn’t do anything,” he assured her. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Faith doesn’t come to me as easy as it used to. I guess I just needed more proof that this devotion to God that I’ve, uh, mentioned is worth something. I want to be his disciple and still feel like I’m doing the right thing. Lately, it doesn’t feel that way. My gift begins to feel more like a curse than a blessing more and more every day.”

“Gift?”

“My blindness,” he stated. “I believe God made me that way for a reason.”

“Oh, Matthew.” She sighed softly. “What reason could he have to do that to you?” 

What reason could God have to blind a man? If he truly believed that, his behavior and antics made even more sense than they did before. 

He diverted the question. “That night at the station I realized something about the world. No matter how hard I try, there’ll always be more evil than good,” he said. “I suppose it’s one of the many reasons I’ve, uh, been going to church a lot more than before.”

Perhaps he was what the physical form of an angel looked like, or maybe he was the devil in disguise. Someone so beautiful often harbored a darker secret. Matt Murdock, the lawyer, the man who devoted his life to doing good. It was part of Catholicism, she supposed. He was the Good Samaritan, a pro-bono lawyer saving whatever hopeless cause stumbled into his arms. Little by little, he tried to make the world a better place. Too perfect to be true. She wondered what God (real or not) would think of her if he saw her in the presence of someone so faithful. 

“Isn’t it bad for you to spend time with someone like me, then?” she asked.

Matt tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m no saint. Isn’t there a rule against that?”

He chuckled. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. No,” he said, “You’re not the kind of sin I’d need to ask penance for.”

“So I’m a sin now?”

“I may be catholic, but I’m no saint either.”

“Oh, does Matthew Murdock have a dark side?”

He smirked. “Wanna find out?”

Eliza straightened his tie. His Adam’s apple bopped. “I have a better idea,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Wanna go to lunch?”

His smirk dropped into a defeated laugh. “You got me there.”

“Take me out first, then we can talk about specifics.”

“Fair game, Miss Bennett.”

She held the door open for him. “For your information, Matthew,” - she stopped into his way as he tried to tap his way forward into the room that smelled of coffee and bread - “You’re hot, but two can play this game.“

His nose barely brushed her cheek, “All I’m hearing is that you find me hot.” 

“You’re such a man-whore.“

He looked offended at the comment.

Giggling, Eliza took his hand in hers and pulled him into the warmth of the café. “Table for two,” she told the waitress. “In the corner, if it’s possible. Not too close to the kitchen.”

Matt wondered how exactly she ended up in his life, what dues he had to pay. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Of course.”

The waitress led them to a secluded table in the corner of the room. On the opposite of the street, the sun passed behind the highrise. The glass filtered the shrill lighting and threw soft hues of daylight in the shape of a rainbow onto their table. 

He tilted his head to listen to her heartbeat once again. Thud, thud thud, thud. “You feelin’ less anxious now?” he asked. 

Eliza frowned. “How do you know I have anxiety?” she blatantly shot back. 

“Your heart beats pretty fast when you get nervous. Happens all the time. I felt it earlier when I touched your arm. Your pulse was skyrocketing. I didn’t want to assume, but I made you laugh and now you seem less on edge.”

She pulled the chair out to him. “That’s cute but intrusive. Could easily border on offensive, too.” 

“The only offensive thing is that you’re doing the thing I’m supposed to do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She snapped her fingers towards the chair. “Now, sit!”

He chuckled. “You’re something else.”

Eliza lowered into her chair opposite him. He discarded his suit jacket again, pulling his sleeves up. The room was too hot, even with the A/C running. She watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he undid the buttons.

Fucking Adonis in a suit. 

“You’re staring,” he said.

“Just admiring the view,” she retorted. 

“You want me to put on a show? Take my shirt off? In a public setting?”

She laughed, teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek. He knew exactly what he was doing. She was sure of that. 

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I might,” she said. 

“Is that why you’re fidgeting with your rings?”

Eliza quickly took one off and tossed it at him. The metal bounced off his face. “Ouch.” He ran his fingers over the moons that were imprinted in the small ring. “It’s a spinner,” he realized.

“Helps with the anxiety. A friend told me about it after he saw the ad on social media.”

He took her hand and slipped it back onto whatever finger he felt was still empty on the tabletop. “You’re gonna need that,” he said. 

She feigned the most dramatic gasp her chest could conjure up. “Are we engaged now?” she asked.

His jaw slacked, eyebrows raised in mock excitement. “Oh, I think we might be. Waiter!”

“Hey!” The words sent a shock through her heart, yet she couldn’t help but laugh. Matt joined in soon after. “Oh, my god. Don’t do that! Someone might hear you.” 

“We need champagne to celebrate,” he said. “We’re engaged now. I think Foggy already planned our wedding.”

Eliza placed a hand against her chest, the left side, over her heart. “But Mister Murdock,” she said, “I don’t have a dress.”

“That can be fixed. Let’s just steal one.”

“I heard that’s illegal.”

“Nah, only if we get caught. Besides, I won’t be able to see you anyway.”

“So I could wear a trash bag and you’d still find me absolutely beautiful ?” 

“I don’t know, I can’t see.”

“Matt Murdock, you little shit!” 

He reached for the hands that covered her mouth, holding back the sound of laughter he enjoyed so much.

“Don’t do that,” he said. 

“What?” she asked.

“Hide your face when you laugh. I like the way it sounds. It’s… nice. The world’s usually so loud and hard. Your voice is calm in comparison.”

Calm. 

She scrunched her nose. “Not many people have said that to me before.” Only one, to be exact. 

She didn’t want to believe it. Her mind was screaming for her to ask the right questions, to be blankly honest with him, but the possibility didn’t seem reasonable. Why would he be the man who saved her life in a devil’s suit and a mask? He was catholic and blind. Those two reasons were big enough to cause significant doubt. 

Eliza figured she just wanted to solve the riddle of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen so badly that she started to project her frustration onto Matt. It couldn’t be true. He would have told her if it were. They were a team, after all. He even promised not to let her in on his dark secrets, so the questions in her head made even less sense. 

The lack of sleep was getting to her. 

Perhaps she was just a calm person, after all. She’d never thought of herself that way because no one’s ever cared as much as the new men in her life. She should be proud of that. 

“Not everyone listens to somebody’s voice the way I do,” he said, pulling her out of the spiral. 

She scoffed. She wanted to sigh, but it didn’t come out right. “Yeah, another thing that’s special about you.”

“You think I’m special?”

“You said you like my voice,” she said. “That’s the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever gotten. Beats ‘nice tits’ by worlds.”

“Men say that?” Matt asked. 

She looked at him, ‘Duh!’ “Oh, they do.”

He threw his head back and groaned, “That’s pathetic!”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“If you feel the need to objectify someone, maybe you should rethink your life choices and learn some manners before you approach people. No one likes a misogynistic asshole.”

Great, Eliza thought. The part of her brain responsible for rational decisions already glared at her for the trail her thoughts followed down into the gutter. He’s doing the bare minimum and you’re already on your knees. She scoffed at the voice in her head. The one time I’m asking you to keep your legs closed. 

Being bad had never felt so good as the last couple of days. She was on a roll.  

“Right?!” she scoffed highly instead. “I don’t understand why men say that. Reducing someone to their breasts… I mean, what purpose does that serve?” 

Eliza restored to what she did best – rambling. The voice piped up again, There’s something seriously wrong with you. But she ignored her. Rationality was overrated, anyway. 

“I don’t understand what some men think that’ll get them besides a sexual harassment suit,” she said. “I mean unless it’s your partner saying that to you, it’s the last thing you want to hear from some stranger at the bar. Men be like, nice tits! And then they’re offended when I tell them to fuck off. Like, what am I supposed to say? ‘Thanks for the objectification, now Marry me?’ Yeah, right.”

His eyebrows twitched. He smirked again, the mischief plastered on his face like a temporary tattoo. “You want me to direct my eyes that way to make you feel better?” he asked. 

“Can you do that?”

“Yeah, I’m doing it right now.”

“I think you’re staring at the table.”

“I am?”

She snorted, “Yeah.”

“Oh.” he grinned, shifting, and then his head bent in her direction again. “Was worth a try.”

Eliza swirled her thumb around the cup of coffee the waitress brought them some time during their conversation. “I like you,” she stated matter-of-factly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt so carefree as she did at that moment. 

Matt stabbed one of the tomatoes in their shared salad. “I think we have that in common, Miss Bennett,” he said. 

“Stop calling me that! Call me Eliza, or just Liz.”

“Alright, Miss Bennett.”

She kicked him under the table. “Stop it,” she warned. 

He lifted his right foot and landed one kick right to her shin. “Hitting a defenseless blind man isn’t very progressive of you, Miss Bennett.”

“Right now, I don’t give a shit.”

His hand reached for her ankle the next time she kicked for him. “Gotcha!”

“You got a pretty good aim.” He ran his thumb over her ankle. The smirk that ate at his lips was darker than before.

“Oh, come on!” she pulled her foot from his grasp. “Get your head out of the gutter, Murdock! This – you and me – ain’t happening. We’re two friends having lunch, nothing more.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, but the smirk remained.

“You thought about it.”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Act innocent all you want, I can hear it in your voice.” She said the last part under her breath, sure he hadn’t heard it.

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled into his coffee. 

Silence nestled between them. Eliza fiddled with the rings around her fingers, spinning the one she’d previously tossed at Matt counter-clockwise. The minutes passed by like seconds. She caught herself thinking back to the night before every time the world allowed her a second to breathe. The shooting, the information, the small vial she stole. People got hurt because of her. She couldn’t change that now. She would in a heartbeat, but she couldn’t. The night was a done deal. 

Daredevil could’ve died protecting her. The man she barely knew was willing to take a bullet for her, no questions asked. Hardly anyone would do that for a total stranger - he was wary of the power she harbored, yet he didn’t hesitate twice before pushing her out of the way, knowing at least one of the bullets was meant for her. He didn’t run, he stayed. He promised to listen, he promised they could do this, and they would face everything head-on, together. He promised he would come back for her and she didn’t doubt it for a second. He wasn’t the kind of man to make empty promises. 

Eliza risked the lives of more than one person in only two nights. She was too nosy for her good, both Tony and Matt had told her that. The lawyer knew without personally knowing her. It was pretty damn obvious, to say the least, that she had no regard for her safety. There weren’t many people left in her life and those who were left had a target on their backs. 

The thought settled in slowly. She tried to shove it away, blame it on the paranoia, but it nestled in there like a mother bird waiting to lay eggs. The eggs portrayed disasters waiting to happen. They could hatch anytime, without warning. Little birds of death ready to destroy everything in their way. 

“Eliza?” she snapped back at the sound of her name. Fingers brushed over her tense knuckles. 

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry, what?”

The earth still spun. She was surrounded by normal people, unaware of the dangers lurking in the dark. They didn’t care about monsters, aliens, or Hydra. Their lives revolved around work, romance, friends and family, heartbreak, and sex. What was it like to live such a life, without demons infiltrating her mind on a daily?

“You just zoned out there for a second,” Matt said. 

Eliza scratched her nose. Not that it was itchy, she just didn’t know what else to do with her hands besides build pools of nervous sweat. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

She’d never been on a date before, not really. She doubted this was what dating would normally look like. Neither of them fit into the ordinary, but she figured it was the closest thing to ‘normal’ she’d get in a while. She had to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Work,” she answered. 

“Work?” he raised his eyebrows. “What do you, uh, work? I read in your file that you work for Stark Industries, but it’s been a while since they updated it. Sorry if that’s too personal.”

Eliza shifted in the chair. “I’m,” - how was she supposed to answer that? - “I work for Pepper Potts, yeah. Run background checks on potential clients, help with selling Stark Tech, and all that. In other words, I’m a fancy secretary for a billion Dollar company. Not something I can flex with.”

“Don’t say that,” he said. “Seems like you’re an important part of the business.”

“Nah, I just like to argue and men are afraid of me.”

That made him laugh. “Maybe you should consider law school.”

The joke cut too close to home. 

“I don’t think so,” she said, tensing up. 

“You haven’t thought about it?”

Yes. “No,” she said. 

Matt knew that it was a lie. “It seems like that’s something you’d be interested in. I’m sure I could pull some strings for you if you want.”

“That’s not possible for me.” She prayed he would just drop it. 

Matt Murdock didn’t drop it though. He hardly ever did. If he set his mind to something, he was adamant to get what he wanted. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

“I don’t have a high school degree.”

He paused. 

“And I just killed the conversation.” Eliza scoffed. “Sorry. Seems like I’m not as smart as you think I am.”

“No! No, I still think you’re smart. That just came unexpected.”

“Yeah, never went to high school. Never even set foot into one. My knowledge is limited to what I read in books or what I can find on the internet. I’m not from around here, so…”

“It’s just a degree, Eliza,” he said once he regained his composure. “A piece of paper doesn’t define who you are. You don’t need physical proof that you’re smart.”

“You don’t have to lie to protect me,” she said. 

“I’m serious. I’d never lie to you. I don’t care if you went to high school. I mean, there are courses for that. You can still go to college, or you don’t. It’s up to you. I won’t tell you what to do with your life.”

The weight lifted off her shoulders. She felt less stupid in his presence. He was a lawyer, went to law school, he did all the things she wished she’d had the time for. Matt was probably one of the smartest men she’d ever met and one of the best lawyers, too. At least he didn’t take her as a complete failure. 

“Where are you from, if I may ask?”

She jolted. How was she even supposed to answer that? His questions were so stupidly direct, that she had trouble making up something convincing enough to settle his need for information. Of course, those were questions that are frequently asked when first meeting someone, but she wasn’t like those people and he had no idea. 

There were only a handful of people that truly understood where she came from, and Matt Murdock would never be one of those. He was too innocent for that.

“I’m Russian,” Eliza said. Still seemed wrong to admit and she still felt far from it, but the truth often hurt. The truth is the reason why people lie. 

Matt tilted his head curiously. One of his thick fingers played with the brim of his cup, collecting the liquid there and pushing it back in. The action was meditative somehow. 

“Your file doesn’t say anything about where you were born, so I thought I had to ask,” he stated. “Now that I think of it, I talk a lot about your file while I should be forming my own opinion. I’m sorry.” he chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I just want to learn as much about you as possible.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t have to ask you to explain your line of questioning to me. Sometimes I forget you’re a lawyer.”

“Yeah, the questions come with the job.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “No one’s ever cared this much about my life before, is all. That’s why I struggle so much with answering. I don’t even know what I’m answering about.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he reminded her again. 

“I want to. I mean, I want you to understand.”

“I would love to understand.”

She smiled. “I know you do. It’s what’s so great about you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” he chuckled softly. “So, your heritage? You said you were Russian,” he asked. 

Eliza licked her lips clean. “I came to the US about seven years ago, before the Avengers Initiative was even put out in the open,” she said. “The story’s a bit complicated. You just have the files SHIELD released after I joined, but Avengers aren’t open books. We have backstories and those stories are better left untold. At least to the public. There’s a reason we became heroes instead of, I don’t know, doctors.”

“Seven years ago?” He leaned back. “You don’t have an accent. That’s… impressive.”

“I learned to hide it well. I speak more than one language, so mastering accents is kind of how I grew up.”

“Really? What else do you speak?” He asked with spiked curiosity. 

She shrugged. “The usual. French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Mandarin, Korean, Latin,” she counted. “Although the last one doesn’t count, I suppose. Dead languages are dead for a reason.”

“Do you speak Punjabi?”

“What?” 

“Punjabi.”

“Is that even a language?”

“Apparently. Foggy took it in college,” Matt said. “It was to impress a girl, but he still took it.”

“I’ve never even heard of it,” Eliza admitted. 

“Oh, thank God! I thought I was the only one.”

She laughed, loud and clear, and this time she didn’t bother to place her hands before her face. He smiled back at her, simply happy that he made her laugh. She was a complicated person, easily made uncomfortable, and tended to lock up whenever she felt like someone was getting too close to the truth. He got her to open up. He could tell she didn’t often. 

Matt chuckled again. He set his cup down, finger away from the brim. “So, Spanish?” he said. “¿Dónde aprendiste tantos idiomas?”

Where did you learn so many languages? 

She sucked in a mocking, sharp breath. “Oh, is this the only language you speak?” she asked. 

“Sì.”

“Si eso es así, no creo que tenga otra opción. ¿No?”

If that's the case, I don't think I have a choice. 

“La verdad es que no.”

Not really, no. 

“De donde vengo, aprender más de un idioma es un requisito. Me vi obligado.”

Where I come from, learning more than one language is a requirement. I was forced to.

“Where exactly did you grow up?” he asked, this time in English. His voice had lowered. 

Eliza sighed. “Je suppose que vous ne le saurez jamais.”

I guess you’ll never know.  

Matt frowned at her. “What was that?”

“French, my friend,” she said. 

“Couldn’t have guessed that.”

“Lo sé.”

I know. 

Matt cleared his throat then. “Eliza, may I tell you something?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“You’re one of the few truly good people left in this world. Whoever thinks you less than that isn’t worth your time or effort.”

She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she said. She hoped he couldn’t hear the waiver in her voice. “You’re not so bad yourself, Murdock. I’ve been around some pretty awful people in my life, you’re not one of them.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’m not that good. I’m no good at all.”

“There’s a thin line between good and bad. We’re all walking the tightrope. One step too close to the edge and we might fall over and land on the wrong side. The tightrope is the grey zone, the perfect balance between good and evil – it’s not easy to keep the balance, I’ve learned. I’ve seen good things happen to bad people and vice versa.” 

She took a prolonged sip of coffee, then placed the cup back down. She studied his face; where she expected rejection of her words, she only found curiosity. His attention hung on her lips and the sounds she made. The words seemed like the perfect lyrics to a song, and her voice was the only one that fit the key. His silent approval was all she needed to continue. 

Eliza moved the cup a few inches to the right, making space for her hands to find his own where they lay crossed between them. He stopped fidgeting, the softness of her skin sending his senses into overdrive. She was so gentle every time she showed him affection, afraid she might scare him, but her actions were far from terrifying. They offered comfort where he only saw darkness. Every time he regretted his decision to come back to her, she did something that proved him wrong. She didn’t know half of who he was – she didn’t know the kind of effect she could have on someone as special as Matt. She was clueless. 

She stammered once the warmth of him reached through her skin. “Uh,” she licked her bottom lip frantically. “Is this okay?” she choked out.

Matt tightened his hold. He was afraid uttering a single word would betray him. 

“I just- I’m not good with expressions.” 

Eliza grew up with little to no physical comfort. She never learned how to talk about her feelings, she never learned how to address personal problems. After she got out, it took a while for her to trust people. Even after she did, talking became a chore. Beyond the facts in her head, there was not much she truly knew. So when she realized she couldn’t possibly tell her friends and family how she felt, she began to find other ways to show her support. She found other ways to express how she felt. Finding metaphors, using her hands to touch whatever limbs she could reach, buying random things that reminded her of the people she cared about and gifting them – Eliza wasn’t the relationship type of girl, but if there was one thing she learned it was that everyone needed love once in a while. 

Looking at Matt she realized he didn’t have many people in his life that cared enough to show him they loved him. He couldn’t believe those who loved him in the now because he grew up without love back then. He grew up feeling worthless. He still felt the same most of the time. 

When you grow up alone, you get used to it. Back then, you weren’t worth much more, so you surely aren’t worth diamonds now. The past drives us and sometimes the road we’re on leads straight into an abyss, one we can only outrun if we allow others to take care of us. 

Eliza could relate to that better than he could’ve possibly imagined. 

She ran her thumb over his rough knuckles. “As someone who’s been on either side of that tightrope before, I can assure you, you’re a good person,” she told him. Her lip quipped softly into a smile. “The things I’ve seen, you don’t even want to know. It’s horrifying,” she said. “No one good is ever truly good and no one bad is ever truly bad, but there’s those that have evil in their hearts and then there’s those that want to do good, no matter what, and they treat the people around them accordingly. You fall into the last category.”

Matt exhaled loudly and his breath tickled her skin enough for the small hairs to stand up on goosebumps. His thumb repaid the gesture. “Can you back that up with a source?” he joked.

She almost scoffed. The lack of self-awareness was astounding. “You take on every lost cause you find because you believe in redemption. Maybe because you’re catholic and that’s your thing, I don’t know, but you do it well and you don’t back down until you achieve something. That makes you a good person.”

He emptied his coffee, laughing softly. Just when he opened his mouth to give another – suspected – cheeky answer, Eliza’s phone rang out. Three loud rings in, and ‘Happy’ by Pharrell Williams began to play. Heads turned at the sudden intrusion. 

She swiped right as fast as she could. The song stopped playing. “ What ?” she answered.

“Woah!” Happy’s voice rang out. “What is it with you today?”

“What is with you today?” she asked back. “You’ve been annoying me an unhealthy amount in the past, I don’t know, five hours. I’m kinda busy here so what do you want?”

“Are you on coffee withdrawal? Or is it- are you having one of those episodes? The, you know .”

He was somewhere in the compound where it was beyond crowded. She heard orders being shouted on the other end, loud steps just inches away from where Happy was standing.

“What?”

“Do you need me to come and get you?” he asked. “Ice cream, maybe?“

Eliza sighed at his words. No matter how many times she tried to be mad at him, she simply couldn’t. He was too good, never angry, just sometimes really upset. She didn’t doubt for one second that if she’d called and asked him to help her bury a dead body, he would’ve jumped to his feet and been by her side in seconds. Of course, he would’ve made a whole speech about it, but he would never allow her to go to jail.

“What’s up, Happy?” she asked, softer this time. 

“A lot is up,” he said. 

“Did anyone die?”

“No.”

“Aliens invading New York?”

“What, no!”

“Then why are you calling me during my lunch break? I told you I had errands to run because Tony’s an idiot and doesn’t know how to do his own posting.”

“Now, I know that but shit is going down. Everyone’s, like, going crazy and they’re not good at following orders, so they end up almost bashing each other’s heads in.”

“Then tell them to pull their shit together.”

“I’m trying, but there’s too much stuff, too many people. I can’t do my job if they don’t do theirs.”

“What do you want me to do? I’m out right now. I don’t have time for this. Go ask Pepper if she can get the sticks out of their asses.”

“You’re out?” Happy asked. “Out where?”

“Lunch.” Eliza looked at Matt. She gave him a shy smile. “Which I’d like to get back to, actually,” she said.

“How long can lunch take? You’ve been out for, like, two hours.”

“I met up with someone.”

“With the lawyer guy?”

“Happy-“

“Is he there with you? Is he making you uncomfortable?”

“What? No, he’s not!” 

Matt bit his cheek. He didn’t want to smile, he couldn’t. Listening to her phone call wasn’t even something he did intentionally, it just sort of happened. 

Happy sighed. “I’m happy that you’re enjoying yourself with someone that isn’t me or a stray cat you pulled from the dumpster, but I’m kinda on my last straw here and I need someone with balls to help me out. Tony is nowhere to be seen and I can’t find Pepper. Please, Liz, help me !” he begged.

She switched eyes between Matt and the street outside the window. Another exasperated sigh left her mouth. “Can’t you just snap their kneecaps or something?” she asked. Matt raised his eyebrows. She covered the speaker with one hand. “I don’t mean that literally,” she told him.

“Snap their kneecaps?” Happy asked. “I can’t even punch without breaking my thumb, what makes you think I can do that? No, I need your little anger-issue ass over here or this party is gonna be a disaster.”

“Jesus! You know what, fine! I’ll come over right now. It’s not like I’ve got a life to live or anything. Don’t worry about me.”

“Oh, thank god! You have no idea how-“

“Save the speech for later. Gotta go. See you in a bit.” She hung up.

“You gotta go?” Matt asked.

She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s work. We both have to get back to it eventually.”

Eliza shuffled to get her bag. She reached for the wallet stored safely inside, but he placed his hands over hers. “I got it,” he said.

“No,” she insisted. “We can split the bill.“

“No, we can’t. I asked you out, it’s fine. Next time, you ask me out and then you can pay.”

“Next time?” she cocked a curious eyebrow.

He chuckled. “Dinner, maybe?”

“I’m fine with dinner.” 

She stood up. He tried to follow her movements with his eyes. She was still standing there, heartbeat suggested she was contemplating. His lip twitched as he tried to figure out what exactly she was contemplating.

Eliza fidgeted with her sleeves. “See you tonight?” she asked, unsure.

“We’ll be there tonight,” he said. “All of us.”

“And then the day after that, you wanna go to, uh, dinner? Do you eat dinner? Of course, you eat dinner. That was stupid. I meant, do you like dinner? Would you be fine with it?”

There it was. The smile fell into laughter. Bubbly, carefree. No, she mistook it; he was giggling. “Yeah, I like dinner,” he said.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, thank god! I was afraid you might’ve just said that to ease the mood.”

“No, I’d like to do this again, maybe not with your work, my work, Foggy or Karen to interrupt us.”

“You forgot Happy,” she said.

“Right, your bodyguard . I hope he won’t interrupt us again if- when we go to dinner.”

“I’ll just block him.”

They chuckled together.

“Oh, shit!” she realized, “Hey, are you gonna be alright if I leave? I- I mean can you walk back by yourself? I didn’t even think of that.”

“I’ll be fine,” he told her. “I know these streets like the back of my hand. Besides, I remember the turns we took. The way to my office is the easiest for me.”

Eliza watched his face for any indications that he was lying, but she found none. He was as content as always.

“Okay, but um-“ she reached for the phone in his suit jacket. “Here,” - she typed in her number - “Call me when you’re back safe just so I know you’re not dead.”

Matt chuckled. “You worry too much. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna ease my conscience. So just contact me once you’re back at the office.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Thank you.”

She still stood awkwardly at the table, Matt sitting with his torso turned in her direction. Neither of them considered making a move, but they didn’t know where to start.

Eliza ended up doing what she previously contemplated. Her hand caressed his cheeks, lips pressed to the soft skin there. He considered moving the missing inch to the right. 

“Tonight!” she blurted out. “I’ll see you tonight! At the, uh, party.”

He cleared his throat, straightening his tie – it wasn’t even crooked. “Yeah, see you tonight,” he said.

She almost stumbled over her own feet on her way out. “Call me!” she shouted across the room.

“I will.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #foreigner's god #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x female!oc #karen page #foggy nelson #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock imagines #canon typical violence #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #charlie cox #marvel #avengers #reader insert #ofc

[generatorsaskblog]

Hey Morgan. So I was thinking since you love puzzles, what if you make a bomb with rubix cube? like you set a uqien pattern on the cube and you scramble it and its a ticking time bomb, prank things, alam or whatever.

And you know, the heros, they just LOooovee rushing things, major killjoy honestly. What if they have to ve FORCE to play by your game, they have to solve your other puzzle, death traps etc to find the right algorithms to solve the cube.

Make them play the long game. Hell, you could mean while pull a different heist while their are all running around, working their little brain like worthless ants.

see the problem with rubick's cubes is that anyone who knows what they're doing just twists it with the algorithm and can solve it within a minute. having a specific alignment to disarm it could be a good idea, but as far as puzzles go, i have ones i prefer more. most of my nemeses aren't bad at solving my puzzles, and making harder ones to beat them is a lot of fun. and i do love laying a trail for a good hunt. you've got decent ideas, you might make a half decent villain. i encourage you to try it out for yourself.

#also the kind of villain you are influences the kind of heroes that fight you #smart villains attract smart heroes dumb villains attract dumb heroes #d tier answers

[wavehq]

enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, aiden clark ( school bus graveyard ) and laura lee ( yellowjackets ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, achilles!

( yellowjackets, dupes not allowed. jane widdop, they/them, non-binary. )  ——-  hey, is that ( laura lee ) hanging around ( celestire museum )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty-five ) year old ( surgical intern ) and ( playing soccer )? they’re notorious for being ( gentle natured ) yet ( stubborn ), and i always seem to hear ( francesca ) by ( hozier ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( ), and they’re associated with ( early morning piano lessons, smudged mascara, the smell of an over burnt candle, & struggling with one’s identity. ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( getting on the plane. ), but it must have just been a bad dream. //  —  [ achilles ]

( school bus graveyard. alin swezczyk, they/them, non-binary. )  ——-  hey, is that ( aiden clark ) hanging around ( axe quest )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty-one ) year old ( theater attendant ) and ( thrill-seeking )? they’re notorious for being ( a quick thinker ) yet ( way too talkative ), and i always seem to hear ( i can’t sleep ) by ( peter mcpoland ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( skateboarding off a roof into a pool, and ||breaking|| their arm ), and they’re associated with ( an unsettling smile that never seems to fade, the twist of a rubix cube, the shutter of a camera lens & a rush of adrenaline ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( agreeing to the sorrel weed house tour. ), but it must have just been a bad dream. //  —  [ achilles ]

#webtoon rp #school bus graveyard rp #yellowjackets rp #yj rp #multifandom rp #whq.accept

[exquisiteagony]

hope you're still doing these 😅 and can i please have two 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

49. "i do not have answer for you."

anything in the blooddrunk au 🤲🏻 (yes, i have no chill about the au 😤😳)

•🛠•

84. "you're really good at that"

niko/joel

sure thing!

49:

“If those northern witches could cure Arde, do you think they could heal my eyesight?” Niko asked abruptly.

From the corner of his eye, Aleksi saw Joel stiffen.

He wasn’t stupid. Joel might never have said anything, but it was obvious in how painfully reverent he was every time Aleksi returned to the nest after a couple day’s excursion or work, like he couldn’t believe Aleksi had chosen to return. He’d heard Joel regale tales of previous fledglings, always smiling fondly until he got to their departure, and he’d heard these stories enough times to know that Joel didn’t want to be just a stepping stone on another’s journey. This is the end of the road for him. He can’t go any further; simply aid others in their lives. Joel might never say it, but he clearly resented how he was doomed to watch everyone he’d helped leave him.

Aleksi swallowed. Across from him, Joonas’s face was tight and pale. Niko was Joel’s fledgling, so it was expected for Joel to be extra protective over him, though he never tried to stifle him, but Niko’s blindness kept him at the nest. The resulting dependence on others had once been the only thing keeping him here, back when he didn’t trust or like them but could never leave if he didn’t want to fall prey to the forest or anyone looking to avenge a lost one. Whilst he now had worked his way into their hearts and they’d returned the favour, Joel’s fears wouldn’t subside. Aleksi wondered if they ever would.

Especially because the past few months had been smooth sailing, with Hannes and his coven on their way north. The witches hadn’t been mentioned since his last departure, and they’d all assumed Niko had settled his blindness with himself. His hearing was better than Aleksi’s now, and he’d grown strong from wrestling and grappling with them all. It wasn’t quite enough for him to be truly independent, but enough to hold his ground.

Joel’s voice was quiet, with only a slight tremor. “I do not know. I do not have an answer for you.”

Niko accepted the information with grace, like he hadn’t expected an affirmative answer. He knew it was a long shot. Good. At least he was realistic.

“There are things they’d want in return, things you might not want to give,” Joonas said, tone even whilst his face betrayed nerves, “Witches who practice blood magic are vicious, and a lot of them delight in the chaos of torment. If you want to try, we can find them, but you should be aware that the price might be beyond your comfort.”

Niko nodded, and the candlelight reflecting off his curls made the light seem to dance for a second. “We can talk to Hannes, when he gets back, and decide then.”

Out of the corner of Aleksi’s eye, Joel relaxed. It would be another couple of months or so until the witches were back in the local area. If the blood witches could help them, it might be even longer.

84: this one is raunchier lmao

“Shit, Niko! You’re really good at that!”

It had started out with those exact same words leaving Joel’s lips, excited as he watched Niko solve a Rubix Cube in under a minute, coloured panels a blur as they spun and twisted into their correct places.

Niko had offered to teach Joel, an inviting glint in his eyes Joel had read nothing into, gladly taking the space on the sofa next to Niko.

“You gotta be good with your fingers,” he’d said, tone playful and almost sing-song. The dirty hint under his words had made Joel blush, but he’d told himself to get himself together and get his mind out of the gutter.

Those words came back to mind now Niko had three fingers buried inside Joel, nudging his prostate with every thrust, every movement going right to his gut until he wanted to wrap a hand around himself.

He wasn’t quite sure how it had progressed to this.

Niko snorted. “Didn’t you say that earlier?” he teased.

Joel groaned. “Didn’t you reply that it’s about being good with your fingers?” he returned, poking his tongue out.

“Cheeky,” Niko warned, eyes flashing dangerously.

Outside, they could hear the others returning from getting lunch, their voices echoing in the stairwell and corridor. Panic flashed across both Joel and Niko’s faces, and Joel reluctantly pulled off of Niko’s fingers, pulling his pants up whilst Niko darted into the washroom to wash his hands. Joel smoothed his hair back, wiping at the sweat prickling his hairline, desperately trying to make it look like he hadn’t been a minute away from nutting.

“You finish this later,” he hissed when Niko returned, just before the door opened.

Niko poked his tongue out in lieu of a reply.

#answered #kind-as-sunshine #these were fun! #rpf #blind channel fanfiction #prompts #i hope you got the prompts i sent you too #blooddrunk

[datawyrms]

Ectober Day 6, Witching Hour

on Ao3

“Seriously Tucker? You just brought him to your house?” Sam could feel a migraine forming behind her eyes, and her friend’s uneasy laugh over the phone was only making it worse.

“He’s been fine. Mom just thinks he’s some shy kid from school.”

Why did Tucker need to give a demon so much credit? Did he just forget that first night? How it felt when something inside them was damaged and stolen? “Well you better hope he doesn’t start trying to hurt your parents like he did to Dash.”

“He’s pretty distracted by a rubix cube.” his voice grew fainter, saying something about ‘you don’t need to take off the stickers’, presumably to the demon in question.

“Sure it is.” Sam rolled her eyes. He was hopeless. More work for her, fantastic “I think I found some spells that might help. How good are you at waking up at 3am?”

“Help with what? We already said ‘don’t go after people’, isn’t that enough?”

“I’m sure he’ll decide that was when he didn’t need to listen. We need to make sure it can’t hurt anyone else, Tuck.”

Tucker made an uncomfortable mumbling sound, too muffled to actually convey anything. She waited, flipping through the tome she’d located. He’d see sense, and she could be plenty stubborn. Eventually he broke his silence. “Apparently fairies exist?”

“We got ourselves chained to a demon, and now fairies surprise you?”

“That’s basically what Phantom said!”

Again, he sounded way too comfortable talking about their soul stealing pest. “Whatever. Just be ready at 3 in the morning.”

“For what? I don’t know any magic stuff.”

“I don’t either! I just don’t think any of these will work without you since we’re ‘sharing’ a contract or whatever.” Okay, the book didn’t put it like that exactly, but it was a risk. That, and she didn’t want to be around that demon all alone in the middle of the night.

“I’m not exactly great at sneaking out.”

“Tucker. You have a demon.”

“Oh, right! Hey, Phantom,” his voice grew muffled, making Sam wish the microphone on Tucker’s PDA was a little better. “He says he’s good at getting in places. Wants to talk to you though?”

“Why? Shouldn’t he want an excuse to help you sneak out and be ‘rebellious’ or something?”

“Because I wasn’t created yesterday.” Phantom’s voice slipped into a growl at ‘yesterday’, leaving the goth to try and ignore the shudder that ran down her spine.

She just had to keep in control here. The demon didn’t have all the power here, not really. “It shouldn’t matter. We want you here then, so you’ll be here then.”

Phantom growled again, but apparently couldn’t think of a real retort. “Whatever.” There was a thud.

“Geeze Sam, what’d you say to get him all cranky? My poor baby hit the ground!” Tucker’s tone was accusatory, but he seemed more upset about his PDA getting dropped.

“Just reminded him that he isn’t the boss of us Tucker. Remember? The whole not letting ourselves get twisted by some demon thing?”

“Are you sure that’s what it was? He’s pretty agitated about ‘the witching hour’ or something.”

“That’s 3am.”

“He thinks you’re gonna hurt him. We’re not gonna hurt him, right?”

Part of her really wanted to right now, for turning her friend against her like this. Acting all friendly and then pretending to be a victim to win Tucker over and set them against one another. “I don’t even hurt animals. They're just spells to make sure he can’t slip off or show up whenever he wants.”

“Do we really have to? We could just ask him to go home for awhile instead of like, forcing him.”

“Of course we have to! Remember how he just showed right back up today? What if he does that during something important? Then he can take advantage of you being distracted to attack someone else.”

“Well...I guess we’ll be there?” Tucker sounded far more uncertain than he should, but at least he’d agreed to get the demon over there.

Maybe she should look into the book more. If the witching hour could let her use powers that the demon feared, they might be handy to know about.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #sam manson #Tucker Foley #demonau #another short one #but hey contrast to how Tucker's getting along fine with sam's...not so much

[bigfootwrites]

i really have no energy today. a sequel to this fic (honestly tho it’s a bad sequel i just...lost it halfway through) and it’s not on ao3 (idk if it will be) it’s also a college au. @today-in-fic

- - -

Her lips slide against his, wet and eager, her tongue quickly invading his mouth. His back collides painfully with the wall she pushes him into. He should find the light switch but his hands are glued to her body, skimming her back, grabbing her ass in handfuls. It’s unlike the kiss in the bar, that kiss was for show, this kiss is real and, ultimately, not something they should be doing.

Mulder pulls away but Scully doesn’t quite get to hint. She chases after him and even when Mulder moves his head out of reach, her lips attach to his neck, sucking and biting at his skin.

His eyes close as the pleasure courses through his body, electricity swirling around his bones. Sometimes he was convinced she was a real siren, destined to lure him into the sea and kill him. So badly does he wants to fall under her spell right now, to give in and leave the talking to another time, to another day.

But no. They both know sex doesn’t fix things. It repairs the issue for a time until even the pleasure and fun isn’t enough to hold it together anymore and their relationship breaks down once again.

A cycle that keeps going. They both said they would break it.

“Scully.” He pushes at her shoulders trying to create space between them to think clearly before another mistake it made. “Scully, stop.”

She lifts onto her tiptoes, trailing wet open kisses that have him melting up his neck. Her tongue twirls around the shell of his ear in the way she knows he likes, in the way that has him buckling.

“Don’t you want to play with me?” she asks in the sexiest, sultriest voice he’s ever heard from her.

He hardens in his jeans, hips thrusting towards her by their own volition. He groans and nuzzles the side of her face. She was going to kill him.

He’s about to give in, about to drag her to the bed, pin her down, and take her in ways he hasn’t been able to in months. His hand grips her wrist in preparation to do so.

Yet, there is still that Scully-proofed part of his brain, a rational, logical side that exists in there somewhere, that tells him he shouldn’t, that he should stop this before it escalates and they both regret it. It’s a part he listens to.

“Scully,” he says as her hands begin undoing his belt.

“Hmm?” she hums, happy and uncaring. In this moment, he’s envious of her, envious of her blasé.

“George Hale,” he says softly.

Her hands fall away and she looks up at him. Her eyes are wide and mouth fallen open slightly, like she too has just been lifted from a spell. He, too, releases his grip on her.

“You said we should talk,” he says with a quirk of a smile. He reaches behind him and flicks on the light.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Talking was never a strong point of theirs. It was always much easier to fuck and forget.

They sit on Mulder’s bed. Scully plays with the blanket, Mulder plays with a Rubix Cube. He’s almost completed it when Scully begins talking.

“You spent weeks ignoring me.”

The last column left and Mulder loses the energy to complete it. It puts it back on the shelf and sighs.

“You only bothered with me when it suited you.” She reels off, the hurt in her voice becoming more transparent with each syllable. “I felt used, most of the time. Just something warm and real in your bed.” She stands up, moving to the window and crossing her arms, not looking at him. “I don’t like feeling used, Mulder.” She bows her head and sniffles.

He hadn’t meant for her to feel that way. He just…

“Scully—”

Scully spins around, dropping her arms to her side. “So, your turn, Mulder.” She sits down again. “What do you want to say?”

Mulder swallows, his eyes searching the floor for answers. He had stuff he wanted to say but he was caught up in the how to say it.

He looks at Scully who waits expectantly and he turns away.

“It’s like you’re not around anymore,” he begins slowly. He hears her suck in a breath and exhale. “Like, you’re always busy with tests or studying or something and it’s not like…” His foot knocks into the bedframe with frustration. He’s shit at talking and his head was beginning to hurt. Can they forget this and just go back to the fucking?

He feels her thumb against his hand. The shock of her touch momentarily pausing his frustration as he twists to look at her. She smiles.

“It’s not like what?” she prods gently.

He focuses on her hand, on the hypnotising motion of her thumb soothing up and down his hand.

“It’s not like last year, or the year before. That was fun.” And new, and exciting. He saw her more times than he didn’t, they were attached to each other. But then senior year happened and he began not seeing her as much. His obsession with her dwindled as he fixated on other things.

Mulder frowns, thinking back to what she had said.

“Did you really feel used by me?”

She bites her lip and nods.

He looks away, feeling shitty he ended up treating her that way.

The bed creaks as Scully moves closer, grasping his hand properly in her own.

“Hey,” she calls gently. “Don’t feel guilty for it.”

Mulder smiles, feeling somewhat better. Scully rests her head against his arm and after a second of hesitation, Mulder leans his own head against the top of hers.

“I’m glad we talked,” she says.

Mulder nods. “Me, too,” he agrees. “But where do we go from now?”

She lifts her head and Mulder moves his own out the way. “I think we’re in a good place,” she says.

Mulder is unsure what that means exactly.

“But are we still on a break or?”

Scully dips her head, smiling. A blush creeps up to her face, something he hasn’t seen since that long conversation discussing their kinks. It reminds him of how shy they used to be with each other.

“The way you kissed me in that bar earlier told me I didn’t want to be on a break anymore.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes.

The biggest smile opens across Mulder’s face. “I can kiss you like that again if you want me to.”

Scully smiles, unable to help herself, and nods.

He grabs her in a similar manner as he did in the bar, their lips attaching, tongue invading, he fists her hair, keeping her glued to him. Scully catches up, her hands wrapping around the base of his neck. She leans back, allowing herself to fall onto the bed, Mulder falling on top of her.

He holds himself up so as not to crush her. He pulls his mouth away and begins an assault on her neck, heading downwards without any nagging thoughts nor feelings that they shouldn’t be doing this.

#college au #sequel to another fic #i write

[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

With You When You’re Down: A ROTTMNT FanFiction One-Shot

I’m dedicating this one to @jadethest0ne​ who also helped come up with the title. Its also dedicated to anyone who ever battled depression or any other mental illness

Summary: It’s ok to feel sad sometimes, and right now Donnie doesn’t even have the will to get out of bed. But thats ok, why? Because he has a amazing family whose going to help him feel better.

Characters: Donnie, Leo, MIkey, Raph, Splinter

Pairings: I am NOT even kidding this time. You look at this fic with anything but ‘oh aren’t they a nice family’ feeling in your heart i”m going to sic my new pet Dragon Reggie on you. He loves eating t**st shippers and he’s hungry.

“Has anyone seen Purple?”

Raph tried to answer but apparently forgot he had just been trying to fit three burritos in his mouth and let out a loud choked noise but managed not to actually die. He bit through the burritos to clear his mouth and  shook his head, “No Pops sorry,” before resuming his task of fitting as many burritos in his mouth as humanly  possible.

Splinter frowned, “Red, I’ve told you this before. Small bites please, you’re too big for me to give the heimlich to anymore.” Even though Raph gave him a pained look and his shoulders sagged, he instead began to work  on two burritos at once. “I’m going to check on your brother, no one dare Raphael to put anything bigger than his head in his mouth.” Before looking directly at Leo who was already using breakfast fixings to fill an abnormally large tortilla shell. The blue turtle gave him a nervous smile before leaning back in his seat with a pout. Splinter went over to the coffee maker, knowing it was safer to approach a possibly sleeping Donatello with a peace offering than just running in and expecting him to be cool with it. Last time he had tried that, he had been three feet taller.

The rat dad took Donatello’s favorite mug and stepped to Donatello’s room, tapping the entryway, “Purrrple? It’s almost two, you may be tired but I brought you a treat.” He sang. When he didn’t get  answer he frowned, normally Donnie would give a loud shriek followed by ‘DADI’MBUSYITSSCIENCESCIENCESCIENCELETMEINPEEEAAAACCCCCEEEE!’. It wasn’t like Purple to not answer. He could still be asleep but even then he would have woken up in a rage and thrown something at him. While he normally respected his sons privacy’s enough to go to their rooms without permission (except to ‘borrow’ Mikey’s shirts), he  called, ”Purple I’m coming in.” he ducked under the curtain. The room lacked normal hum that would come from Don’s inventions and instead left the small space in silence. He almost thought Donnie was still asleep.

Til a small sob reached him.

Splinter went into the small connecting room that was Don’s sleep nook. Even in the darkness he could see Donatello was still curled up on his bed, wrapped up in his blankets like a cocoon, “Purple? Its Dad,” out of the corner of his eye Splinter could see the shattered remains of Donatello’s phone on the ground, considering Donnie once had a meltdown when Leo joked about touching his phone without permission, that wasn’t a good sign, “Purple?”

The form on the loft bed twisted around, rolling over like a caterpillar forming a cocoon to look over the edge down on him, a pair of blood shot swollen eyes peered down at him, a small sniff escaped the small confides of the cocoon as Don rubbed his face against his blanket again.

Splinter could already feel his heart ache, “Aw, Purple.” He set the mug on Don’s desk as he climbed up the loft ladder, “Can I sit?” He asked the turtle, without lookin at him, Don’s head dipped in a nod. Splinter sat on the edge of his mattress, rubbing his sons shell over his blanket, “Are we not feeling ourselves today?” He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer, but instead heard a small sad noise come from him again. Splinter remembered seeing a box of tissues sitting on his desk, snaking his tail down underneath the bed and pulling the box up to his level, “Here my son.” He set the tissue box by Donatello’s head who didn’t hesitate to take several tissues in his hands and wipe at his face. Splinter placed a soft hand on the back of Don’s head, “It’s ok my Purple Plum. We all have days like this. I’ll tell your brothers to not bother you and let you rest your soul.” Splinter moved his palm from the back of Don’s scalp to the side of his face, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear that escaped Don’s eye, “Is that alright with you my son?”

Don gave him a weak, if appreciative, smile as he nodded. Splinter held his sons face for a few more seconds before climbing down from his bed. He remembered the coffee mug he had brought it and carried it back up the ladder, “Here my boy.” He held out the mug for him, “Pure Black, just the way we like it.”

Don took the mug, squirming to a upright position, giving Splinter another appreciative , if small, smile before resting his face over the warm drink, “I’ll be back in a  few hours to check on you.” Splinter promised before climbing down the ladder one last time before leaving the room.

(#)(#)(#)(#)

Splinter had explained to them that Don wasn’t having a great day. A feeling Raph understood too well, but that didn’t make it easier to know one of his brothers was suffering too. Of course, his first reaction to finding out had been to go check on Don, at least before Splinter caught him  and made him promise not to go in there with the purpose of asking him a ton of ‘are you ok’ questions and draining his mental health more than it already was.

So, for the first part of the morning, he focused on his rubix cube. Though it was second nature at this point to twist it in the right shape, it did nothing to distract him. He had considered maybe getting his other rubix cube and go challenge Don to a rubix cube race, but Splinter hadn’t thought it was a good idea. He said they shouldn’t stress Don anymore then possible (and if they did, he would ground them to the moon and back). The big and beautiful turtle let out a sigh, setting his rubix cube down as he absentmindedly looked around his room. It was hard knowing his brother was in such a state without a way to help him, but then his eyes fell on a certain pink caboodle and a giant smile encompassed his face.

Raph snatched it up and jogged out of his room, making a beeline for Don’s. Leo, who was doing a handstand on his skateboard, saw where he was heading and looked like he was going to try and stop him til Raph held up the caboodle for him to see. The red slider narrowed his eyes before giving him a nod of approval. Raph had to stop from bursting into Don’s room and take a moment to knock, “coming in buddy!” He said ducking under the curtain. The form on the bed twitched before Don looked towards the entrance with a look of surprise on his face, “Oh, sorry” Raph apologized weakly, “I should have asked permission,” he said as Don’s gave him a slight frown and laid back down on his bed with his shell to him. Don’s bed was covered in used tissues and an empty tissue box lay on the floor as though Don had tossed it aside when it lost its usefulness to him. “I’m sorry,” Raph apologized again in a softer voice. He sometimes forgot his loudness could unintentionally set off Don’s headaches and sensory issues. “I didn’t come in here to stress you out if that helps,” he started. “The last time I was depressed, Dad did my nails for me. So, I thought I’d see if you wanted me to do yours!” He held up his caboodle, ‘“Mikey’s been giving me lessons too so I won't mess up so bad!” Raph took a moment to check the volume and tone of his voice, he didn’t want Don to feel like he wasn’t giving him a choice, “I mean it's up to you.”

For the first time since Raph entered the room, Donnie looks at him from over his shoulder, his expression is softer this time, as though forgiving Raph for coming to his room so loud. A few months ago, Donnie told him that Raph reminded him of a large dog that always forgot it wasn’t a puppy anymore, but he had said it with a smile so it couldn’t be an entirely bad thing.  He looks to the caboodle then to his nails and gives a nod so slight Raph almost misses it. “Ok cool!” Raph sets the caboodle on the desk under Don’s bed, “I think I have just the color, I saw it the other day when I was shopping with Mikey and it made me think of you.” He pulled out a thing of purple nail polish, “It’s glow in the dark,” he holds it up. In the dark room the purple contents give a soft glow, “And there’s glitter in it. It kinda reminded me of space so I figured you’d like it. Do you want me to use this?”

Don studies it for a moment, but then nods again, “Ok cool times two!” Before he starts, he notices Don doesn’t have his telltale hoodie, a source of comfort for him, “Hey if you want, while your nails are drying, I’ll do a load of your laundry and bring you one of your hoodies back. I’ll ask Leo for help so I don’t accidentally use the wrong fabric softener. Is that ok?” He once again gets a soft nod and sets to work. He also makes sure to clean the tissues off Don’s bed and bring him a new box before leaving to do his promised laundry.

(V)(V)(V)(V)

Mikey slid his spatula underneath the newly formed toasted sandwich before setting it carefully on a plate with a few cut up carrots on the side and a cup of oyster crackers. He takes a moment to check the tray for everything he was going to need - Mikey’s phone, a meal, a box of hand wipes, and a water jug of sugar free sports drink. With a nod of satisfaction, he picks up the tray and makes his way to Don’s room, using his foot to tap the outside of Don’s room before ducking in. “Hey Donnie!” he says with his trademark large smile. The softshell turtle was propped up on a few pillows wearing a purple hoodie with the hood up and looking at his nails when he looked at him with a nod of greeting, “I brought you something to help you feel better.” He practically skips over, “Last time I was sad, Raph made sure that I had water and ate something. Even if you’re not hungry now.” He almost laughs at the suspicious way Don was studying the sandwich, “Don’t worry it's not a Leo sandwich, it’s toasted mustard and ketchup. Your favorite.” Don nods at him, but sets the food aside. Mikey made a mental note to check later to make sure that Donnie actually ate. He did feel better to see Don drink out of the water jug before the hand wipes caught the soft shell turtles attention, “Oh that’s something Leo taught me too. It’s a good way to clean yourself without having to take a shower. I know you don’t like feeling dirty, so I figured you’d like it. There’s also some gum to clean your teeth”

Don blinks at him before opening the container. Its only then Mikey notices the soft purple glow coming from his nails, “Aw! I see Raph was here too!” Don nodded, he was already using a hand wipe to clean his neck and face. Mikey picked up the trash can and pulled Don’s chair around so it could rest it on it. Giving Don a closer vantage to it. He figures Don will finish his ‘hand wipe bath’ when he’s got privacy. “Hey dude you remember that AMV I was making for Jupiter Jim the Musical? The one made like a silent film??” He paused, thinking for a moment, “wait, actually how is it a musical if it’s a silent film?” He looks to Don for the answer, as he usually does, but Don just shrugs. “I was thinking of using a StarSet song, and since you basically listen to them all the time I thought I’d ask you for help picking one out. Is that ok?”

Honestly he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, maybe having Don roll away. He should of asked Leo if this was a good idea but instead Donnie scooted away from the ladder, patting the spot he had been sitting in. With a smile that can barely be contained by his round naturally happy face Mikey climbs up the ladder taking out his phone and pulling up the StarSet playlist he had made. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Don rests his cheek on his scalp but makes sure to give him a smile before starting the playlist.

(#)(#)(#)(#)

Leo honestly hates it when the Lair is quiet. Even though it’s barely evening, it feels almost unnatural for a home that had seen so many fires that he was sure the fire department would condemn them. Hours earlier, Splinter had told them that Donnie was experiencing a depressive episode and that they should respect his space and privacy as much as possible. But of course, had he been told his favorite Donnie was in such a state a few months earlier, he would have run through the wall and trapped Donnie in a death cuddle from which there was no escape. But at this point he knew better, so even though he watched Splinter, Raph and Mikey go visit Donnie at different times during the day, he stayed his distance, staying close enough that if he heard anything he could interfere.

So now he sits at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the surface. If anyone had been in the room with him, they would tell him to take a breath and stop feeling so anxious. But he can’t help it. Anxiety was a nasty devil who lived in your brain reminding you of all your mistakes you’ve made and all your mistakes to come.

Leo leans back in his seat, and takes a deep breath.

The anxiety feels further away.

The turtle stands up and stops by his room long enough to pick up his favorite blue hoodie. He makes sure to take a deep breath before knocking on Don’s door (I think you should specify which door), “Your favorite Leo’s coming in.” He calls gently before ducking under the curtain. He’s almost surprised to see the room still so clean, he can see clean clothes hanging from Don’s closet and a trash can situated on a chair by Don’s bed is filled with tissues and wipes. It fills his heart to know his brothers cared so much to come in here and to do little things to help him.

But Don doesn’t even roll over to acknowledge him, he can barely see Donnie scrub at his eyes again before curling up under his blanket. With a soft sigh, Leo walks over and climbs up the ladder, “Still not feeling ok buddy?” He asks crossing his arms over the top rung and resting his head on them as Donnie nodded in agreement. ”It's ok,” he drummed his fingers over the surface of Don’s mattress, picking up a few stray crumbled tissues and dropping them over the side of the bed. “Remember when I had my bad day a few weeks ago? I went to my room and refused to come out. I was a little angrier than I think you are now. But you came in and just hung out with me? You set up a projector in my room and we watched Jupiter Jim movies all night and you did that JJ impression that always makes me laugh.”  He couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory. Eventually his room was full of their small family all curled up on his bed watching a low budget sci-fi movie series, even Splinter (who had some beef JJ he didn’t understand) joined in. Mikey sat on Raph’s shoulders doodling on his mask as Leo laid his head on Donnie's lap and laughed himself silly.

Leo blinks out of his memory and smiles up at him “You know what? Give me a sec.” He leaps off the ladder and hurries to Don’s lab. It feels almost eerie to see all his inventions shut down, but he snatches up Donnie’s tablet from its charging station and comes back to Don’s bed. “I’m actually kinda bored, wanna hang out and watch Ted Talks?” At first Don doesn’t look at him, his eyes were so swollen that Leo wasn’t entirely sure he could see anything. He was prepared to leave if Don wanted him to, but is relieved when Donnie nodded. Leo beams as he scrambles up the ladder. He gathers the pillows around to make a makeshift seat for the two of them, snuggling into his spot. “Not to sound too humble, but I can basically make the best pillow throne ever right Donnie-Dee?” He smiles praising his naturally humble nature before he scoots over enough to give Donnie space free of him but is again surprised when Donnie curls up next to him and rests his head on Leos’ shoulder. At first, he thought Don just wanted to see the screen better. But then his immediate brother begins to tremble, pulling down the rim of his hoodie down to to cover his face as he began to sob softly.

The blue masked turtle immediately wraps his arms around his brother, resting his cheek on his brother's scalp. He is unsure what he could say to comfort him, but when he felt Don press his face into his shoulder, he knew this would suffice.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there rocking his favorite weeping Donnie in his arms. But slowly he felt Don’s sobs fade away with his trembles, and eventually he pulls his face away enough to pull his tears tainted hoodie away from his face. Leo, without releasing his hold, pulls the box of tissues closer. “It’s ok to feel sad sometimes,” he says rubbing his cheek against Don’s temple to give him the space to wipe his eyes. “Just don’t forget that we love you Dee. We’ll always be here to take care of you. Your big brain knows that right?” He said peering at his brother's face. Donnie gave him a shaky smile and a nod, “See? That’s why you’re the smart one buddy.” Leo says with a smile

A soft noise escapes Donnie that Leo realizes is supposed to be a laugh, and he rubs his scalp. He settles back to hold the tablet up when Don reaches over to a plate Leo hadn’t noticed and tore a grilled sandwich in half, before pausing and stuffing one of the sides with some few remaining carrot sticks. Leo grins. “Aw see? You know me so well,” he says taking the carrot sandwich half with one hand and holding up the tablet with the other so Don could see it. Later, when Don was obviously getting annoyed with the flawed logic behind the Ted Talks, Leo would mute the screen and give his best impression of what he thought the ‘experts’ were saying. Even though Don laughed, it wasn’t so much Leo’s humor it was the horrible jokes that had him drag a hand down his face and succumbing to giggles. Later that night, they would be joined by the rest of their family. There wasn’t room for a projection screen, but Mikey brought in several of his favorite board games and they made a circle that would include Don’s bed. Sharing stories and telling jokes long into the night. Though Don didn’t share any stories, he laughed louder than everyone else, and at one point had to escape Leo’s ‘tickle torture’ when he rolled his eyes too many times at his jokes.

But nothing could keep the smile off his face after that.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #donnie #leo #mikey #raph #spllinter #hurt/comfort #depression #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #it’s ok to feel sad #jade #support rottmnt

[magpiemorality]

My bad I did indeed mean twist with a kiss in my ask. I can't speak for anyone else, but I most certainly would read it! Your writing for that pair is adorable. Still, if you prefer not to make it a followup, would you consider filling something along the lines of the prompt as its own standalone thing? (NO pressure, just curious cause it seemed like there was still a lot of potential for development. I don't normally read ships, but I absolutely adored your take!)

I took too long to do this and mostly forgot the original ask, I think it was about the others finding out about Patton and Deceit after they’ve got together, at least I hope so!!

A Kiss With A Twist 3

First | Previous | AO3

***

Patton didn’t exactly intend to keep his new relationship a secret from his friends. It wasn’t deliberate. But it just so happened, somehow, totally by accident, that a whole week after he and Deceit had got together properly he still hadn’t actually told anyone. 

It was a nightmare! Apart from the way the lie of omission kept drawing his new favourite person to him, because that was pretty great. Even if Deceit wasn’t actually away from his side all that often anymore. Still great!

But less great was the nausea in his stomach whenever Logan carefully didn’t mention his dates with Remus, or Virgil and Roman sat politely apart on the couch for movie night, fingers itching to touch. Honestly by this point Patton’s lip was growing raw from all the chewing of it he was doing! But how did you tell your friends that not only had you been wrong, but you’d been so spectacularly wrong that you were now the worst offender?!

“I could write them a card!” He suggested, tapping his chin, his Most Serious expression on to try and find a solution as he paced around his bedroom and Deceit lounged on the bed with a rubix cube. “No, too impersonal. It should be in person. But that’s so scary!” 

“You’d think Morality would have an easier time with telling the truth, huh,” Deceit chuckled to himself, sighing at Patton’s disappointed pout and holding his arms out so the other side could tumble in and snuggle back against his chest. “Why don’t you make them a lovely breakfast and just say it?”

Patton hummed. “It could work, but what if they’re angry because I was so weird about it before?”

“Now you’re sounding like Virgil.” 

“Really?” 

“That... wasn’t a compliment but alright,” Deceit said. “A less direct approach then, maybe just try and show how much you approve of their own relationships, ease them into your changed opinion?”

What a great idea! “You’re fantastic!” Patton exclaimed, twisting around to throw his arms around Deceit’s neck and kiss him soundly in gratitude. He was great at compliments and support! He could make them themed cupcakes, or clothes that incorporated their mixed colours! He could make sure they sat close together at movie night! He could-

The door opened. Roman stepped through, mid-sentence asking Patton a question that would never get answered and be promptly forgotten when instead of the side, alone, he walked in on Patton and Deceit definitely making out on Patton’s bed. 

There was a pause as all three parties stared at each other, before Roman backed out and shut the door loudly, his footsteps hurrying away, almost as loud as his ‘whisper’ to the others that he had something to share. 

Deceit hid his laughter in Patton’s shoulder and Patton just sighed. 

Oh well, he thought. At least that was that over with. And really, with how this whole situation started; it was only right it ended the same way! 

And now there was no more planning to do, Patton suddenly had a bunch of time to spare. Which, with Deceit right there, warm and comfortable and kissable on his bed, Patton knew exactly how to spend.

--

#writepie #moceit #ts patton #ts janus #ts deceit #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #double checked the original ask and I was right! #yay!

[channoticedmeuwu]

Bloom | Chapter 12 : Child's Play

Pairing : kim doyoung x fem!reader

Genre : fluff, angst, arranged marriage au!, CEO doyoung! Au.

Started : 28.10.20

Finished : 18.12.20

Warnings : mentions of cheating (?) Uh....that's it??? There are literally no warnings I mean there's nothing to fret uwu

A/n : hello hello hello, beautiful reader, how are you doing this fine evening? Enjoy!!!

prev | next

bloom : masterlist

----------------

"I can't say, Doyoung," Mingyu ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back in his seat, "I don't know it can be. Think about it, is there anyone you aren't on good terms with?"

Doyoung just shook his head.

"Mingyu, I'm on business terms with all of them. If we have any bad blood, they won't get so personal."

"How are you so sure?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, "You don't know their intentions."

"Half of them don't even remember my last name."

Mingyu scoffed, his lips twisting into a sarcastic smirk, "Come on. Think about it. I don't know who you talk to. I can't suggest anything."

"Do you think Dad would...?"

Mingyu looked up, concern mounted onto his face. "Doyoung! Why would Dad even think about it? He suggested it. It's making him prosper. He's happy. It would take a miracle to reverse his thoughts."

Doyoung nodded, laying his eyes on the pen on the table.

"Then who is it?"

Mingyu sighed. "Definitely someone who has Dad's trust."

"And who would that be? Dad doesn't just have mere "friends". He isn't someone who just hangs out to play golf on Saturdays with his rich buddies."

"Doyoung..." Mingyu's voice lowered as he glanced around, "Do you have any exes?"

Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Please, brother, me? Exes? Do I look like I have time for that?"

Mingyu shook his head, his eyes widening. "You don't get it. There were more than just y/n Dad wanted you to get married to."

He shrugged, playing with a rubix cube in the shades of black. "So?"

"So..what if they're still interested in you?"

He scoffed. "You're watching too much Netflix."

"I'm serious, Doyoung."

Doyoung put the cube down, slowly coming to the realization that his brother wasn't incorrect. He straightened his suit, leaning forward and whispered in a low tone, "But I didn't flirt with any of them...?"

"Oh? Then why did Y/n look at you like that when we went to her house?"

He chuckled, his cheeks turning cherry red. "She knows how to tease, ok? I just played along."

"And fell for it."

"Hey! I thought we were discussing something else? Stay on topic."

"Whatever you say, bOss."

He looked around, loosening his tie as he tried to hide his ears growing redder. Mingyu cleared his throat. "What about the blonde?"

"The blonde? I met a blonde?"

"Doyoung."

He thought for a while, then pointed at his brother when he came to the realization. "Oh, yeah! I remember her! Uh...I forgot her name."

"Yes. Exactly. Did you flirt with her?"

"No? She was too vocal about her problematic opinions, anyway."

"Alright. Who did you remember last? Did you meet any of them after the marriage?"

--------------

Caroline stirred her tea, tapping the cup as Katherine bragged about her problematic opinions. She waved her tea spoon in the air like a magic wand as she talked. Y/n tapped her foot to the ground, staring at the clock on the wall and mentally praying that someone comes to pick her up.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting Katherine. "Who is it?"

Y/n checked the caller ID, a smirk growing onto her lips as an idea popped in her mind. "Oh...someone. I have to take this."

She walked into a corner, well aware of Katherine's glare on here back as she talked. "Hello?"

"Hey, darling," Doyoung's voice sounded loud from the phone, "Come on. Come outside. I know you don't want to be here."

She scoffed as she leaned against the wall. "How did you know I was here?"

"You sent me, like, a dozen messages begging me to pick you up."

Y/n's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I did?"

"Yes, princess, you did. Now, are you coming or not?"

Y/n hung up as she walked back into the room and picked up her handbag. "Sorry, girls. Doyoung's here."

Katherine cleared her throat as she straightened her back. "I'll come out to see you."

"Oh," Y/n said, batting her eyelashes. "That's not necessary, Katherine."

"No no," She said, getting up from here chair and almost slamming her spoon down, "It's proper for the host to see their guests out. I insist."

"Alright," Y/n bit her lip, "Thank you~"

Outside, Doyoung leaned against his car per usual, scrolling through his phone with a hand in his pocket. When he heard the door shut, he looked up and closed his phone, his eyes laying on Y/n.

"Hey, babe," he whispered as he wrapped an arm around her waist, "You look so gorgeous this evening."

Y/n pinched his arm, and he looked the other way to Katherine. She bowed down. "Nice to see you too, Doyoung."

"Hmm," Doyoung hummed in response, leading Y/n into the passenger seat of the car and walked over to the driver side himself. He flashed her a cold smile before seating himself and drove away, leaving Katherine in an angry, burning mess.

---

"What was that about?" Y/n's voice broke the silence.

Doyoung flicked the indicator as he stopped at the signal. "What do you mean?"

"That? That whole hugging and complimenting me?"

"Why?" He asked, smoothly turning the car, "I can't hug you and compliment you?"

"That's not the point. I mean, it's not very common but the moment you see Ka-"

"So is this about Katherine?"

"No? It's not?"

"Then what?"

Y/n folded her arms as she focussed her gaze onto the road. "It's just...are you trying to make her jealous?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know," Y/n's tone sounded worried to Doyoung. She traced the outline of her leg with her nail as licked her lips. "You were supposed to marry her before me..."

"And? I rejected her."

"But that doesn't prove anything."

"What does it not prove?" He shrugged casually. "I'm not into her."

"Then why do you suddenly try to make me feel better than her? Suddenly? Everytime she's near, it's like suddenly she needs to see that you have someone better than her. It's like, she's the moved on ex who's attention you're trying to get, and I'm the pawn stuck in between."

Doyoung's eye twitched with the claim that was just made. He parked the car in the side, facing her as he turned the hazard lights on. "What are you on about here?"

"I-" Y/n felt a loss of words. She felt that this was unfair. Why, she didn't know. She felt wronged, as if they were an actual couple. And it ached, hard. Her heart was sinking all of a sudden. The petals started drooping of her flower. What is happening? Why was she upset? It shouldn't really matter, they weren't a "thing". Then...why did it feel so bad?

He continued with a soft sigh, yet his words seemed to hold a firm grip of her feelings. "If you don't like my compliments and my touch, just tell me. If it makes you uncomfortable-"

"It doesn't! It's just that, why around her?"

He stayed quiet for a while as he stared out the car. He sighed. "You talk as if you're inferior to her. All the time whenever you mention her to me, she's always put in such a way to sound as if she's better than you. I just wanted to show that you're looking at it from a different point of view. The wrong view."

"But she is so much better than me?"

"What makes you so sure?"

"She's got the husband, she's got the reputation, she's got the friends, she's got the-"

"Jealousy? The anger?"

"What?"

"Don't you see it?" He said, his voice softening, "She tried to make you feel worse before. In front of me. That's enough of a red flag for me."

"Doyoung, you don't even know her."

"I know her plenty. If I was supposed to get engaged to that... woman," he paused, a look of disgust seeping onto his face, "Then I think I would be sure about the way I felt about her when I rejected her."

"Then you're making her jealous. Don't you see that? She has a husband. Stop provoking her."

"Of course I am. She should feel that way. If she starts seeing me even after being married, it's her problem. Can't I show my wife affection? She's my 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦. It's my choice."

Y/n stared at him as if he splashed her face with water. Did he just say that he chooses to show her love? But he doesn't actually love her, right? And she doesn't actually love him, right? But then why is this wave of relief sweeping over her head? Why is she feeling slightly better? Does she like his compliments?

"What?" He asked, knowing exactly what as he scoffed. "Did my words make your weak heart flutter, princess?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Doyoung," she said, changing her position, "Your words have no affect on me. I'm taking it as a gesture."

"Oh?" He said, getting back into the road, "Then what if I say that I meant it? What if I did want to show you affection?"

Doyoung really said not shy not me bitch

She felt as if she swallowed a large slice of cake without chewing. "Stop bluffing."

"Alright," he stopped at a signal again, and faced her. "But what if I do this?"

"Do wh-"

He bent closer as he lay his soft lips on her cheek. A small, one second peck is all it took to make Y/n's heart jump to the back of her mouth. Her eyes widened as he smiled back at her before focusing his eyes back onto the road.

"Did...did you j-just..."

"Yes, Darling," he chuckled, speeding up. "I did."

"W-why?"

"Awe...are you flustered now?"

"Is this a competition?"

"What if it is?" He asked, glancing at her with his playful dark eyes. "What are you going to do, huh? Kiss me? You wouldn't have the guts, Honey."

The car came to a stop infront of the entrance of their house. She smiled as he clicked his seatbelt open. He noticed her eyes on him. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, putting a hand on her cheek, "Your legs look good in those pants. Are they new?"

"H-huh? My pants?"

"Mhm," she chimed, exiting the car and walked down towards the front door. He shook his head as he fished the keys out his pockets and unlocked the door. He clicked it open, and her hand pulled it shut, a hand between him and the door.

"What are you doing?" He looked down at her, and she just flicked her hand into his hair as if there was some bug in it.

"You're so tense right now, aren't you?" She slowly took the keys out his hand, locking the door. "Why go home now?"

"What do you want to then?"

She hummed and tapped her chin as she looked up as if she was thinking. "Let's watch a movie?"

"Yes, we can do that insi-"

"No, you clueless idiot, I meant at the Cinema."

"Who still goes there?"

"Have you been living under a rock, babyboy? Housebound, is it?"

"W-what's with you? Huh?"

"What? Is it that hot?" She patted his cheek, "You're turning red, your Highness."

"Shut up," he whispered, his ears growing red as he thrust his tongue into his cheek, "You're so confident now?"

"I always was. I never thought it would be so fun to use my confidence on you, though."

He walked closer as his lips curled into a smirk. "What are you going to do with me? Hm?"

She stood next to his ear, her breath tingling against his jaw, "Nothing. Let you live with your teasing ass alone."

With that she walked back to the car as he rolled his eyes, chuckling. "What's with you not giving me a kiss, huh?"

"That's what you want, right?" She hummed, admiring her freshly manicured nails, "You're going to need to beg for that, babe. Do I look like some sweet girl to you? I'm annoying, darling. You're not getting that kiss that you're dying for."

"Beg on my knees?" He twisted his head as he unlocked the car and tossed his suit coat at the back seat.

"Depends on how desperate you are," she seated herself next to him, "So, sure, why not?"

"You're so annoying."

"What did I say?"

"Which movie?" The engine whirred to life.

"Toy Story 4?"

"How old are you?"

"Hey, give me a break. I'm still a kid."

"You're 23."

"And? What about it?"

"Toy Story 4 it is."

"Just like I thought."

He tapped the steering wheel as the car got onto the road. "How much teasing do I get to bear until I get that kiss?"

"A lot."

"Oh goodie."

-------------

Tags : @grassywoozi @hamaigad @stopitvpls @ruthiechanumon @jaeshatshop

Send a dm or an ask to be in the taglist ;)))

have a nice day, everyone!!!

#doyoung #doyoung x reader #ceo doyoung! #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #kpop #arranged marriage au #ceo!au #ceo au