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skyfallslayer · 2 months
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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Masterlist
-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-
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Main Masterlist || OC Fan Art || Spotify Playlist
🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to take her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.
🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler
🎲Rating: Teen-Mature
🎲Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter.
🎲Word Count: 10,392 (So far)
🎲Start Date: 3/6/24
🎲 End Date: N/A
🎲 A/N: No Idea what possessed me to write this, but i saw everyone else doing something similar and I said to myself... "Hey, why not?". This can be read as reader-insert if like since OC's hair/eye color will only be mention here and there.
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|| INDEX ||
Season One:
Prologue: The Pinky Promise
Chapter 1: The Vanishing of Will Byers & Stephanie Henderson
Chapter 2: The Weirdo On Maple Street
Chapter 3: Holly, Jolly Shotgun
Chapter 4: The Bodies
Chapter 5: The Flea & The Acrobat
Chapter 6: The Monster
Chapter 7: The Bathtub & The Sacrifice
Chapter 8: The Upside Down
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-Taglist is Open-
@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz
@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp
@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646
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skyfallslayer · 2 months
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They're Gonna Taste My Venom
-The DD Trio x Symbiote!Teen!Reader-
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Main Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three
🕷️Summary: Due to their expansion in their business, the trio decides to hire a helping hand to help string things along. The girl is… a little quirky, Karen admits, Or Foggy notices she’s a bottomless pit for snacks, Or that Matt can hear her talking to herself quietly sometimes. But it’s nothing they can’t handle– Oh, no! Now she just bit someone’s hand off, she’s speaking in a deeper tone, and she’s apologizing profusely as she hangs from the ceiling. She might be way out of their league after all.
🕷️Pairings: DD Trio x Platonic!Teen Reader; Karedevil; Foggy x Marci; Teen!Reader x Platonic!Venom
🕷️Rating: Teen-Mature
🕷️Word Count: 6,305
🕷️ Date: 2/21/24
🕷️Warnings: Implied Bad Homelife; Mention of Blood; Canon-Typical Violence; Interrogation; Kidnapping; (Underage) Drugging; Heavy Language; Heavy Dialogue; Mention of Cannibalism; Mention of Body Parts Being Torn Off; Mention of Eating Someone/Biting Off A Limb (Via: Symbiote). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
🕷️ A/N: Hello, dear readers! Welcome to my three part series of an idea that I have no idea where it came from. Lol. Seriously, this strange AU just popped into my head and I was like- "Man, maybe I should make that my next fic?". And BAM! Here it is! Hopefully it's good as I imagine it would be. Enjoy!
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These past twelve months have been… something else. The snap that lasted for five years messed up everything that the troublesome trio worked for, which was to rebrand their business: Nelson, Murdock & Page. But hey, I guess in a… morbid(?) sickly? depressed? way, it did work out in the end. Business was pretty much booming, especially now that everyone who blipped was trying to get their homes or anything else they own back under their names and care. Now, not to toot their own horns, but they say they’re pretty good at multitasking. 
Until…
They weren’t.
As they get busier with each passing day, the trio realizes that they’re stretching themselves so far thin that it’s starting to affect them. So after some intense conversations, they decided to hire a helping hand.
Y/N L/N. 
Their new assistant that was just shy of seventeen and on her way to graduating high school. She was nervous, of course, when they first met her, but the nerves soon settled and she turned out to be a very charming person that they all agree they loved to have in the office. She was extremely helpful and willing to learn, always on her toes when they needed something, always organized and had everything ready when they had a case or a client coming in. None of them could ask for a better person in the position. Even though the girl was… 
Well…
Kind of quirky.
Like she always prefers it cold, no matter what the temperature is. Karen notices she was barely wearing anything when they first met. It was in the middle of winter, and the girl was just wearing an oversize sweatshirt and a thin beanie. At first a bit of a motherly instinct took over and wondered if the poor girl just didn’t have anything to wear at home, or maybe couldn’t afford anything. Y/N eventually apologized and laughed saying that she just prefers this weather more than the heat. But despite that, Karen did gift her a warmer coat that the teen decided to wear (even if it felt forced).
.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that Miss Page.” Y/N said once she was handed over the nice coat. 
“Please, I insist. I know you said you like the cold, but I would rather not see you sick.” Karen said, as the girl smiles and nods, promising to wear it until Spring.
.
Then it was the food. Now, Franklin Percy “Foggy” Nelson loved to eat just like any other person out there. But if there was an eating competition to suddenly spawn inside his office he would surely lose to his assistant. The kid was… a freaking bottomless pit. Just as Karen had suspected Y/N might be on the poor side, Foggy thought the same when he brought take out for lunch and the kid nearly ate everything on the table. She did it in a mannerful way but still (He’s surprised she didn’t inhale the table). So out of worriedness he started bringing her lunch, and the one day he forgot, she brought her own “five course” meal of sandwiches and sides.
.
“Maybe… she’s just a growing kid.” Karen once said as he shook his head.
“Don’t girls go through puberty early? There’s no way Y/N’s still growing.” He boasted as the blonde tried another excuse that he shot down quickly. “Nope! Matt! Can’t you tell?”
“Foggy, Matt is not about to smell nor hear if the poor girl is going through puberty!”
“Karen, come on–”
“NO!!”
.
The conversation ended up being wrapped up and placed in the back of the shelf for now, but occasionally it’ll come up when the girl polishes off something huge by herself (And everytime Karen proceeds to hit Foggy over the head with her shoe as Matt tries not to laugh).
Then there was the human lie detector, Matt Murdock and his tales of Miss L/N. When he first met her of course he was a little on edge, I mean he was still learning to not leave his guard up all the time after promising Foggy and Karen he was going to do better and be trustworthy. The girl was nervous during the interview, but managed to win over their hearts about halfway through yet…
Matt couldn’t shake what his senses were picking up.
On her first day of work she seemed cool as a cucumber, nothing to worry about. However her heartbeat was… strange. It was pulsing like any other healthy human being, but there were times where it would randomly accelerate. Like she would just be stapling papers together and it would pick up speed like a racehorse. A few times he feared she was having a heart attack before it went away. 
The other thing he notices, and to follow Karen’s observation, the girl does tend to run rather hot. And when she does she would either shed off an extra layer or turn the tiny fan on her desk in the middle of a snow storm. 
.
Hmm, maybe she’s just a natural furnace. He told himself once, recalling that his father was someone who always seemed to stay warm (but even he wasn’t crazy enough to go outside half dressed in -10 degree weather).
.
Then lastly, he realizes the girl likes to talk to herself quietly. At first he thought maybe she had an earbud in and was talking to someone, or maybe she was mouthing the lyrics of a song but… no. Sometimes it’s even hard for him to pick up what she’s saying ‘cause she’s so quiet, but the couple times he does hear her it sounds like she’s scolding herself.
.
Matt tilts his head, slightly zoning out on the conversation him and his partners were having as Y/N was in their kitchenette. From the smell of it she was making herself coffee and muttering and even jerking at something or someone that wasn’t even there.
“Shut up, I’m not eating that– No I’m not– You’re not either.” He hears her eye roll and almost sighs. “You’re not going to die, stop being a baby– Don’t call me the baby, you numbnut– Hey, you fucking bastard, I’ll–”
And then he kind of tuned out when he noticed Foggy was asking him a question.
.
A million different scenarios went through his head of what it could be. One that he’s just sticking with right now is she’s just a very imaginary kid. The other lingering thoughts weren’t so innocent. Someone’s home life could affect certain things. Maybe it’s–
“So what shall we do to celebrate?” Foggy said out of the blue in the present day. The sun was out shining, the weather was cool and just right, everything was blooming peacefully just as Spring should be. The blond looked between the two perplexed adults before gasping. “Don’t tell me you all forgot?”
Karen glanced in Matt’s direction, lost as well. “Uh, remind us again?” She asked, sheepishly.
“Oh, come on guys! It’s our anniversary!” He throws his hands in the air. “This marks the full year of the grand reopening of Nelson, Murdock & Page!”
Matt’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses in surprise. “Is it April 24th already?”
“Yeah! A full year, baby! We fucking did it! We brought this extinct beast of a place back to life.” Foggy exclaims, making Karen laugh. “We need to celebrate.”
“And how so, Mr. Nelson?” The woman asked, curious to what he had to say.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Maybe a nice dinner and a club.”
“Aren’t we too old for clubbing?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Who says that?”
“Says the guy who pulled his hamstring running up the stairs.” Matt quips with a grin, as Karen hides another laugh in her hand. 
“Hey!” 
“Half-Joking.” Then he perks up. “Y/N is here.”
“Already?” Foggy looks at his watch. “She’s really early.”
“Do you think something’s wrong?” Karen asked, mother henning again. “Matt?”
“I’m not picking up on anything.” The blind lawyer replies, truthfully. “She’s coming. Relax.”
The teenager opens the door, her usual blouse and skirt with her backpack on her shoulder. She looked like she was in thought as she greets them with a smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Matt and Karen greet in unison as Foggy cracks the ice.
“Hey, Y/N/N. You’re early.” 
“Uh, yeah, sorry. My building’s power went off and I couldn’t cook anything so I just went to a diner. Guess I overestimated how much time I needed to eat.” She replies, her heart steady. “Is it okay if I start early?”
“That’s fine, there’s probably not much to do though.” Matt says, as she sets her stuff down on her desk.
“Whatever you got I’ll do.”
Foggy’s concern washes away and goes back to his bubbly self. “Are you free tonight, Y/N?”
“Um… yeah. Why?”
“Well, today marks our anniversary of getting this place up and running again and we want to celebrate with maybe dinner at least. Our treat.”
“Dinner?” The teenager looks concerned. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along? I’m just your assistant.”
“Nah, don’t use that talk.” He waves her off. “You’ve helped us a lot these past few months. You’re one of us. Right, guys?”
“Of course she is.” Karen said, her red lips curling upwards. “We would be all over the place if you hadn’t helped organize when we got so overwhelmed.”
“And customers are always complimenting you on how wonderful you are with them.” Matt adds, making the teenager blush.
“Yeah, kiddo. You’re great.” Foggy says, throwing his arm around her with pride. “Keep this up for a few more months and… maybe we’ll add your name to the plaque.” 
She laughed. “Your business will officially be a mouthful to remember.”
“Hey, it was mouthful before Karen came in, we might as well keep rolling with it.” He shrugs. “So what do you say? Dinner at least?”
“I can do dinner.”
“Fantastic! Where shall we go?”
And that was pretty much the only thing they talked about for the rest of the day.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Are you sure this is the right address?” Foggy asked for the third time tonight as he hitched along for the ride. He was the person you called a… backseat driver (but he has every right to do so at this point).
“Yes, Foggy. I’m just following the directions on my phone.” Karen replies, slightly irritated, but also a little bit worried (like she’ll admit that to him just yet).
“‘Cause this is a really bad neighbourhood.”
“I know, Foggy.”
“Is it really that bad?” Matt asked, after listening to his surroundings. He didn’t really hear that much going on outside the vehicle.
“It’s… extremely sketchy.” Foggy says, with a sigh. “It’s like one of those places they tell you not to go after dark.”
“That bad?”
“Yeah, and we close pretty late. Do we really make Y/N walk through this?”
Matt’s eyebrows raise up, amusement on his face. “Sounds like someone’s going to be her chauffeur soon.”
“Don’t tempt me, Matthew. I’d consider. Or we all pitch in and buy her a car.”
“Sure she knows how to drive?”
“Or better question–” Karen cuts in while making another turn. “Maybe you should talk to her parents first about this concern before we start gifting our assistant with stuff? Maybe she’s not allowed to have a car? Or even to drive?”
“What seventeen year old isn’t allowed to drive?” Foggy asked, confused.
“I mean, I wasn’t allowed to drive at all until I was an adult.”
“What? Why?”
“Foggy I was what you called uh… ‘wild child’, I’m not exactly a saint you know.”
Foggy sighs and flicks his attention to the backseat. “Matt, would you have driven a car if you could?”
“Who says I haven’t?” The blind man replies with a grin that made Foggy not want to question it.
The blond man throws his hands up. “I give up. Naysayers, all of you.”
“What are we ‘naysaying’?” Karen asked, with a chuckle.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Oh my god.” She shakes her head and parks the car along the curb. Just as she was about to snatch her phone off the dash, a report came up. She quickly reads over the headline and frowns. “Hey, did you hear about those people who disappeared a few days ago? Rumors saying they were special forces?”
“The ones that were going door to door down on 36th?” Matt asked, hearing about it on the news and even word about it at night. Even some criminals he ran into that night thought it was strange and found them suspicious. 
“Yeah, those. Apparently they just turned up. Parts of them.”
Foggy’s face scrunched up. “Ew.”
“Someone hacked them up?” Matt asked, worried about a possible new killer on the loose.
“The strange thing is, no. From what it says here it looks like their limbs were chewed off.”
Foggy made a gagging noise now. “Ugh. Great. Now we have a cannibal in the Kitchen. That’s just great–” He opens the car door. “More reasons to get Y/N a car.” His friends shake their heads and get out also.
“You know, you’ll make a great father one day.” Matt says, getting the middle finger.
The three of them buzzed themselves into the building, going up to the second floor to the third apartment in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the apartment Foggy shared with his fiancée, but it was definitely on the same level as Matt’s: -Not-in-the-safest-of-places-and-was-the-“cheapest”-on-the-block- They definitely felt wary of wearing their nice and expensive clothes out here.
Karen was the one who knocked and got a response.
“She’s alone.” Matt said afterwards, getting the woman to check her watch.
“I guess her parents work the nightshift?” Foggy said, slightly worried. They didn’t get the chance to talk about it when the door swings open. The teenager opens up a nice, simple purple dress paired with a blue jean jacket and flats.
She smiles. “Hope you found the place okay.” She replies, greeting them and locking their door behind her. “Seriously, you guys didn’t have to drive to get me.”
“Oh, we don’t mind.” Karen says, honestly.
“Are we still planning on dinner?”
“Of course. You hungry?” Matt asked, making her laugh out of embarrassment.
“Heck yeah, I am.” She said, making them giggle.
“Well then, after you, Ladies.” He gestures for them to go first.
“Oh, such a gentleman.” Karen replies, starting the trek off, smiling and pulling their assistant along for the ride.  
They started chit chatting about the place they were going to go, Foggy boasting about how good the food was the last time he went (Now frank that was pre-blipped, so fingers crossed it’s still as good as back then). As they started descending down the stairs, Matt’s cane unfortunately got caught into a hole that was forming in the wood and was falling forward. To his surprise, Y/N was the one to react extremely quickly and place her hand on his chest to stop his fall.
“Shit, you okay?” She said, as he regained his balance from her strength.
“Uh, I’m…” And then he trails off when he catches a whiff, the smell of dried blood just beneath her fingertips. The chilling part of this was that it was NOT her blood. He swallows, and forces a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the catch.”
She frowns apologetically. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you about the stairs. They’ve been falling apart for a while. If you stay to the left you’ll miss most of them.”
“Noted.” And then they continued again with Matt being careful…
.
.
.
And it was not just about the stairs.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Sure I can eat anything?” Y/N asked, as she scanned the menu over again.
“Of course, our treat.” Karen reassures for the hundredth time.
“I know it’s your treat, and I appreciate it. But–” She flips the menu towards them. “Have you seen the dollar signs for this place?”
“Well, I can’t exactly ‘see’ anything.” Matt replies, feeling his assistant give him ‘the look’. He hoped he sounded sarcastic and not rude (he was trying to push away what he smelled earlier and enjoy the night (And not be a paranoid freak again).
“Mr. Murdock–”
“Matt, kiddo.” Foggy says, lightly tapping her shoulder. “How many times did we tell you you can drop the formalities? It’s been months.”
Y/N blushes. “Sorry, habit.” She replies, only to mumble something under her breath two seconds later that everyone kind of ignored. “I’ll shut up and figure out what to eat.”
“That’s the spirit.”
The group eventually ordered their food and soon slipped into a nice conversation. Between some fun exchanges between the law trio or funny memories from their childhoods, it eventually led to laughter.
“I never realized how big your family was, Foggy.” Y/N said, intrigued by the chaos of the Nelson family.
“And I swear it just keeps growing. It’s a little baseball team at this point.” He replies, smiling.
“Does anyone else have a sibling?”
“I had a brother, but he’s passed.” Karen explains, with a sad smile.
“Only child.” Matt replies, with a head tilt.
“What about you, Y/N? Any siblings?”
She shakes her head. “Just myself. I kind of wish I had a sibling though. It does get lonely at home sometimes.”
“Well… it’s not too late to ask your parents for one.” Foggy jokes, half heartedly; It causes Matt to nearly spit out his drink, Karen scolding him and Y/N chuckling behind her hand. “Don’t kill me! It’s just a joke.”
“Franklin Nelson.” Karen warns like she was his nagging mother, and kicks his shin.
“Ouch, Karen, geez.”
Y/N smiles, amused. “I don’t mind, really.”
“But still, most people I meet here want more than one kid. I’m actually surprised you’re an only child, Y/N.” Matt said, being honest, which suddenly got her heart rate to pick up, but not in the racehorse kind of way he had been hearing. The teenager had stayed quiet for a moment before she shrugged, trying to shake it, or them, off.
“My mom’s not really in the picture anymore, not for a long time actually. I just really have my dad, but he’s always working. So, to be honest, I’m on my own. I don’t think he even realizes I have a job.” She replies, taking the last sip of her drink while avoiding eye contact. She could feel the concerned stares on her making her feel uncomfortable.
“Y/N, that’s not right.” Karen said, worriedly.
“It’s… fine. I’m used to it, you know?”
“Just because you’re fine with it, doesn’t mean it is.” Foggy replies, brows pushed together, distress wrinkles forming. “You know, if something’s up or wrong, you can tell us anything. We’re here for you, you know?”
“Not everything though…” She said, frowning (Her heartbeat picking up again, which was enough for Matt to start questioning what she actually means).
Just before anything else could be said, the waiter came over to drop off their refills and took the empty appetizer plate away. “Your food will be out shortly.” He said, and they thanked him.
“Man, I’m starving. The wait better be worth it.” Foggy said, after a second.
“I know, right? I know it’s been awhile, but I don’t remember it taking this long.” Karen admits, stirring the lemon around in her ice tea.
Y/N starts to take a sip of her new drink and pauses, like halted to an immediate stop. Matt picks the way her whole demeanor changes from nervousness to anger, and mutters, “It’s coke. It’s fine…”
What are you hiding, Y/N? Matt wonders as he takes a sip of his own beverage, worried out of his mind for what could be happening to her. What was happening at home that you didn’t even want to talk about it? 
But as soon as that red wine tickled down his throat he immediately knew something was wrong.
He couldn’t even taste it or smell it, but he knew there was something mixed inside that wasn’t supposed to be in there.
He immediately feels all his remaining senses start to go wack and before he could even say a word, Y/N beat him to it.
“Hey! We have to throw up!” She says, shooting up to her wobbly feet. “The drinks were–”
And then she proceeded to crash back into her chair, her face falling onto her dining mat. Karen calls out her name before passing out as well.
“Uh… M-Matt…?” Foggy calls out, struggling to stay awake. “W-what just…”
Matt hears him render unconscious as well and tries to fight it off the best he could, but he knew it was useless when his whole body started to grow numb, and he cussed under his breath from it.
.
.
.
And the last thing he sensed was their waiter standing over their table smiling like the cheshire cat.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
When the four of them came to, they all had splitting headaches that made it almost hard to even realize where they were. Tied to individual chairs and under some “interrogation” lighting in some strange, seemingly unknown, building.
“Ugh… where are we?” Karen asked, looking around with a slight squint.
“Warehouse district.” Matt replies, after a split second of analyzing. “I recognized the smell.”
Foggy clears his throat before whispering, “Uh, Matty, might not want to out yourself to our assistant here yet.”
The blind vigilante completely forgot that Y/N didn’t know his secret and held his tongue. Luckily, it seems like she was preoccupied with her worries, making some weird faces only two people present could see. Well… maybe a third now because some random ass man wearing what looks like tactical equipment (minus its helmet) comes in through a door.
Baldy (yeah we’re calling him that) looks disgusted and rather annoyed to even be here, as he stands before each of them before spewing, “Where is it?” 
Yeah, no ‘Hi’, ‘Hello’, or ‘Good Afternoon’, just straight to the fucking point that nobody even knows what it’s about. 
The adults looked at each other, going into overprotective mode.
“Who are you?” Matt asked, ready to start listening for clues (and silently try to get out of his restraints).
“Not any of your business.”
“Why are we here? Why did you need us?”
Baldy said nothing, instead directing his attention to the bound teenager. “Where is it?”
Y/N blinks, clearly confused. “Where is what?”
“The thing.”
Another blink. “What thing?”
His jaw clenches, irritated. “The thing you stole from us.”
She scoffs. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“For fuck’s sake–”
“What is going on?” Foggy cuts in, bitterly. 
“Who are you people?” Karen asked, same expression as his.
“The people who want our stuff back.” Baldy replies, shrilly too. “Our boss has been desperately looking for it ever since it went missing. We know she has it.”
“How do you know she took it?” Karen asked, maternal mode kicking in once more and ready to throw hands if necessary (I mean, did this guy even have any evidence?).
“Her school was required to go on a field trip to our company, and soon after, our… subject disappeared and we know one of those kids took it. Took us a while, but we finally tracked down who it was.” He jabs his finger at the girl. “You.”
“Y/N–” The blonde woman looks her way.
“Subject?” Matt asked, turning the interrogation around. He feels everyones’ gazes on him now as he tries analyzing the situation. “First you say ‘thing’ and now you say ‘subject’. Are you saying Y/N stole a person?”
“Matt–” Foggy warns under his breath, urging him to tread carefully.
“I wouldn’t call it a person.” Baldy said, feeling the blind man’s intense stare.
“Then what is it again?”
“Matt–” Karen tries now.
Baldy holds his tongue. “Listen, Blindly–”
“So what’s this ‘subject’ Y/N supposedly stole?” Matt pressured, feeling the man’s blood spike.
“You need–” He pulls his gun out. “To shut the fuck up.”
“Matt!/Hey!” Karen and Foggy yelled in unison, their racing hearts pouncing in their friend’s ears. But the Murdock stays as calm as he could be, tuning them out to focus on the gun on hand.
“I would hold that spicy tongue of yours, and let ME do the talking.” Baldy continues, getting silence as an answer. “Good. Now–” He redirects the barrel at the teenager. “Talk.”
Y/N’s eyes widened just as the adults started yelling again.
“Hey!” Matt snarled, thinking the gun was going to be trained on him the whole time. He tries giving the most intimidating look he could muster with his blind orbs showing. “Don’t fucking point that at her.”
“Yeah! You really gonna kill a kid?!” Foggy snaps, getting the man’s attention.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Karen adds, making Baldy’s eye twitch at their comments.
“Listen, motherfuckers.” He snaps, a craze look on his face. “I will do whatever needs to be done. If that includes bathing my hands in red, then so be it.”
She shakes her head, furious. “You’re a sick, twisted, human being, you–”
“I’m sorry…” Y/N blurted out of the blue, suddenly looking really pale and distant. Her boss unknowingly hears her heart start picking up like a rabbit, and her blood pressure starts spiking (not to mention she was starting to run like a furnace).
Badly looks her way again and scoffs. “What? You scared?”
“Not of you, but for you.” She swallows. “You really might not want to point the gun at me, it’s upsetting him.”
He tilts his head, confused. “Upsetting who?”
“You need to leave.” She pleads, her (Y/E/C) eyes starting to change to an odd color.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Seriously, leave, please–”
He starts to sweat and presses the gun into her head more. “What are you fucking talking about?!”
“Leave! He’s–” Then her body stood stiff, and her fingers started to twitch, and then… her voice got super deep. “I’m pissed off.”
The trio widened their eyes at how scary and inhuman she sounded, which was enough for Baldy to start panicking, thinking of the worst. 
“Enough with the theatrics!!” He snapped, trying to regain control. “I’m–” 
And then nobody expected this next.
If you told anyone you were going to watch the girl get engulfed in black goo, and a monstrous face to form in her place then they wouldn’t just bat an eye and walk away because it sounded like insanity.
It became even more insane when the face suddenly bit the man’s forearm off clean and swallowed it whole, along with the hand pistol.
An ear piercing scream erupted from the back of his throat as blood pooled from his remaining limb. He stumbled backwards as the substance from her body disappeared, Y/N reacting with a look of horror on her own features.
“Oh, my god!!” She screamed. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!!”
“What the fuck!!!” He yelled back, baffled just like everyone else in the room.
“I’m so, so, so sorry!! I told him not to do it! He never listens!! I–” 
Then a black tentacle comes out of her skin and whips the man into a wall, causing another scream from her and even the trio. The adults could only just watch/listen to it unfold, no clue to what’s happening.
“Oh, my god– Fuck!!” Y/N says, shutting her eyes shut tightly like she was in pain. “I told you not to do that!! Why did you– Ah!!”
Her bosses watch as her body stiffens again, eyes glassing back over to purple before slowly fading to white. Then, the tentacles came back out to smash the chair she was in, bringing her to her knees. The goo was started to cover her form again, prompting her to ask the question,
“Venom… What are you– Saving your life. And theirs too.” 
Then the door bursts open again, this time with a crowd of other people dressed just like Baldy, except that had a little more artillery. Suddenly, the trio watches as Y/N jumped and dangled from the ceiling, the red lasers immediately pinpointing on her.
“FIRE!!” Someone shouted, and the bullets started flying.
Then their little assistant disappears again, replaced by the face with big white eyes and a wide mouth full of spike, and a tongue that was licking its lips with delight from the bullets ricocheting off of him. Karen screamed at the sound, and they all buried their faces into their shoulders for protection just as the beast let out its battle cry.
It started crawling faster towards the crowd, hunger in its face before it suddenly stopped halfway. The beast let out a huge sigh, muttering, “Fine.”
It then started grabbing whatever it could get a hold of and fling it towards them like a game of extreme darts. One by one they started to fall, one by one they were getting broken ribs and blacking out, one by one they were–
Then a flash grenade was suddenly underneath it and exploded.
The beast roared in pain from the sound, the goo vibrating and then dissolving at the snap of fingers, causing the teenager to resurface and fall to the floor. 
Matt definitely heard her ankle snap from the fall despite his own ears ringing, and called out her name. The girl cries out, and hugs her leg as she squeezes her eyes shut to block the tears from flowing. Just as the noise started to settle, it was about to become a whole lot worse. Just as the last remaining attacker was about to shoot the poor girl dead, with Karen and Foggy shouting their pleas, the vigilante managed to to unloosen the last knot from his wrist, springing to his feet and chucking the chair straight at him.
Matt lets out a breath he was holding before his instincts kicked in again. He quickly unties Foggy from his chair, saying, “Get Karen.”
“Right.”
He sprints over to the girl, getting down to her level. “Y/N?”
She lets out a groan, cracking open her eyes, slight shock upon seeing him. “M-Matt?”
“Hold still, I’ll pick you up.”
“H-How did you get out? Or throw a chair so accurately?”
Well shit. 
He really wasn’t thinking about his secret ID at that moment. Just the thought of making sure his assistant wasn’t going to die on his watch.
He bites his lip. “Y/N, I’m–” His gaze snaps towards the door where he could hear footsteps approaching. A lot of them. “Shit. There’s more. We have to–”
“I-I have to get you out.” She croaks, rolling herself to be on all four. “It’s my fault you’re involved in this.”
“Y/N, you broke your ankle, you can’t do anything else.”
“But…” She groans again and then slowly lobs her head in his direction, a smug tugged across her lips. “But I insist, Mr. Murdock.”
And before he could say a word, the beast reappeared and lifted him straight off his feet, along with Karen and Foggy who yelped in surprise. Suddenly they found themselves running at an incredible speed, prayers leaving their mouths just as they broke through a window and free falled down.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Not even sure where they ended up but it was completely unoccupied and covered by the shadows of the night. The beast had set the weathered adults down against the wall before doing the same; the body disappearing back to the teeanger who fell right on her bum. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes like she did earlier, trying to hold the pain in.
“Oh, my god, Y/N, your ankle.” Karen manages to say once the shock ran out (And that was for a while).
Y/N smacks her lips, grinding her teeth, replying, “I-It’s fine. It’ll be fine in a minute. I advise not looking.”
“What do you mean?” Foggy asked, eating his words as he witnessed her ankle snapping right back into place causing him to gag and avert his gaze. “Oh, hell…”
“T-Told ya.” She mutters and then sighs. 
Silence fell over them, the trio all kind of looking at one another before deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room. Or whatever that thing was.
Foggy clears his throat, shifting his weight around. “So…”
“I’m sorry.” Y/N said, opening her eyes and looking at them with guilt. “I… I never wanted you guys to see that.”
“Well, I can see why.” He mumbles, getting a smack in the shoulder by Karen. “Ow!”
“So what is it?” Matt asked, straight to the point and curious, actually (and concerned too now that he’s realized this girl’s got no control over whatever it is). 
Another sigh as Y/N pushes herself to stand. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. I don’t know.” She crosses her arm uncomfortably. “I went on a mandatory field trip for school to this lab, and… some of my classmates begged me to go ‘behind the scenes’ with them. I honestly didn’t know what to expect, except that the only thing back there was this container with a tiny blob in it.” 
She frowns. “One thing led to another and it broke, but I had no idea that… this blob got absorbed into me.” She throws one of her hands up. “I honestly thought I was going crazy for several days when I could hear shit in my head, and when my appetite went through the roof. And then…”
“Then… what?” Matt said, sensing her discomfort.
“I got mugged. Well… attempted mugging until… Venom came out.”
“Venom?” Karen asked, eyebrow raised.
“That’s… what he calls himself. The thing you saw.” Y/N starts nervously playing with her hands. “Anyway, the mugger didn’t do much since– you know– uh…”
“Let me guess, he bit the guy’s arm off?” Foggy says, as she shrugs.
“More like… above the neck…” Then she gets the shocked stares again. “Okay, in my defense, I have no control over that. I didn’t even know that Venom attached himself to me. I…” She groans. “I just ran away after that! I didn’t know what to–” She then pauses like she is listening.. “You what? – You finished him off?”
Now it was her turn to have her pupils blown wide. “When? I don’t remember you doing that? – You did it when I was asleep?! – Oh, ho! That is not consensual whatsoever! We talked about this!” She scowls. “No, you quit complaining, you parasite!”
Y/N groans again, this time into her hands. “Ugh! He’s so annoying sometimes!”
“This is the strangest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.” Foggy said, running a hand through his locks. “And aliens attacked New York.”
“Technically, Venom’s an alien.”
“Oh, my god.” He holds the sides of his head. “It’s ‘Invasion of The Body Snatchers’.”
“Foggy.” Karen tries to get him to calm down.
“So you just decided to live with this… Venom guy?” Matt asked, not really sure how to ‘perfectly’ respond to this situation. I mean for the many years he’s fought in Hell’s Kitchen, he’s never experienced something like this before.
“It’s kind of hard to get rid of him. He’s… persistent, I’ll give you that.” Y/N replies, with a small smile. “If I’m being honest, it was around the time you guys accepted me for an interview. I was more worried about acing that than dealing with a vicious conscience.” Then it fades. “Homelife not exactly… easy, so I guess it was nice to have someone to talk to. In a crazy kind of way.” A sigh. “I had no idea that he was important.”
“Are you going to give him back now that you know?” Karen asked, worried at what might come if she doesn’t.
“That’s the thing, If I give him back, they know who I am, and you saw what happened tonight. They’ll kill me no matter what.”
“Like hell I’m going to let that happen to you.” Matt says, confidently as he places a gentle hand on her shoulder (he could hear her pulse spiking at what she had said). “We’re going to figure this out. Don’t you worry, Y/N.”
She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Then don’t ask me.”
“You almost got hurt because of me! I’m not letting you put your life on the line for me. I can figure this out on my own.”
“Y/N, I’m a lawyer, you should know by now I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer easily.” His lips tug upwards, trying to make the best reassuring look he could make. “I’m going to help you–”
“We’ll help you.” Karen corrected.
“Yeah. We’ll help you, don’t you worry.” Matt faces his old roommate. “How long’s Marci out of town for?”
“Uh, next week. Six days to be exact.” Foggy says, after quick thinking.
“Good. We don’t have to worry about her safety.” Matt goes quiet, using his senses to figure out where they are before they move. “Alright, let’s go to my place.” He gestures for everyone to follow, his friends were, but not his assistant who was perplexed.
“Wait.” She blurts out, stopping them. “Shouldn’t we try finding somewhere else? It might not be smart to go to your own home.”
“It’s fine. It’s where we need to be for our next step.”
“Next step?” She asks, watching him start walking away again. “Which is…?”
.
.
.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
(TBC)
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Stay tune for the next parts! || Part Two || Part Three
-Taglist is Open-
@indestructeible @mirkwoodshewolf @aew-kun-age-regression
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skyfallslayer · 9 months
Text
The Darkness In Me - Masterlist
-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-
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Main Masterlist
🖤 Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?
🖤 Pairings: Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Fem.Reader
🖤 Rating: Mature - Explicit
🖤 Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter (This series will contain 18+ themes)
🖤 Word Count: 25,966
🖤 Start Date: 8/8/23
🖤 End Date: N/A
🖤A/N: For those who aren't the biggest Marvel fans, I'm going to give you a little backstory behind this fic. This story is based on the "Spider-Gwen" comics where in this universe, Earth-65, Matt's origin story is very similar to the one where we already know, except Stick was killed by the Hand and takes Matt under their wing. He's turned into an assassin, but still goes to law school and eventually becomes Wilson Fisk's defense lawyer. Somewhere along the line, Matt cuts ties with Fisk and becomes Kingpin himself. This story was kind of a 'A-ha!' moment, and I decided it would be interesting to see this take on Matt with a reader insert. Don't know how many stories I'll do, but if you readers seemed to like it I'll keep going :) Enjoy!
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-INDEX-
🖤 Story 1: The (Wo)Man Without Fear
Summary: After all these years away, you’re finally relocated back to Hell’s Kitchen, the place where you were born, a place filled with happy memories. However, the city is not what you remembered, and when your job as a detective is not enough to save it, you might have to become something more.
🖤 Story 2: Auld Acquaintances
Summary: Deciding you have no choice anymore, especially how your new partner scares you half to death, and the police in this city seemed not to care, your hundred percent committed to becoming a vigilante. But before you could do this, you run into an old childhood friend and his business partner. But unknowingly to you, he’s not the same little boy you remembered hanging out with. He’s… something else entirely.
🖤 Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil
Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.
🖤 Story 4: Snapdragon (Coming Soon)
Summary: Your world is officially upside down. Your small taste of nostalgia has been ruined by what you discovered. Now, you’re out on investigations with Frank, and decide to dig deeper on other cases to take your mind off things. But of course, you always had the worst luck, and nothing can make your heart stop when you find the King of Darkness in your living room.
🖤 Story 5: A Euphoric Misery (Coming Soon)
-Taglist Is Open-
@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene
@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666
@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness @badbishsblog @nornawerdandi @lov3vivian
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skyfallslayer · 2 months
Text
Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter One
-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.
🎲Chapter Summary: On his way home from a friend’s house, young Will and his best friend’s sister, Stephanie, sees something terrifying. Nearby, their loved ones start worrying hysterically, all while Steve hears some unsettling news.
🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler
🎲Rating: Teen-Mature
🎲Word Count: 9,471
🎲Date: 3/12
🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Racist Comment; Talks of Kidnapping; Car Crash; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying to Sex; Lying; Suicide Comment; Homophobic Comment/Calling A Person A Derogatory Word; Implied Death; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
(And let me know if I missed anything)
🎲A/N: Here we go folks. The official rewrite of episode one. Can't say it's perfect, might be a little messy, but think of it as it setting the whole plot up. Anyway, stay safe, and enjoy!
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“It was a seven.” The words fell from his lips that would predestine this night. On the chilly night of November 6th, 1983, the small group of friends had gotten together to play their weekly game of DnD that was cut long short for being on a school night. Two of the boys had rode off on their bikes, away from the host’s house as the young brunette told his friend the truth.
The boy of the house, Mike Wheeler, turned his head, confusion on his face. “Huh?”
“The roll, it was a seven.” The brunette, Will Byers, replies, a frown on his face. “The Demogorgon, it got me.” He kicks the stand off and starts riding. “See you tomorrow.”
As his words lingered in the air, the garage lights flickered on and off that was forgotten with a shrug. 
Young Will catches up quickly with the other boys, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson. The wind in their eyes and smiles on their faces, they continued to ride for many blocks, slowly coming unwind.
“Good night, ladies.” Lucas teased as he broke from the group for his driveway.
“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Dustin quips back, before facing the other boy. “Race you back to my place? Winner gets whatever my sister brings home this time.”
Will’s eyes light up from that. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Dustin says, not expecting for his opponent to take off immediately. 
“Hey! Hey! I didn’t say ‘go’! Get back here!” But as he says that, he knows there was no stopping his friend. “I’m gonna kill you!”
Will chuckled and shouted, “Bring it to school tomorrow!”
Dustin hits the breaks, out of breath and frustrated as he replies, “Son of a bitch…” Meanwhile, his friend pretended he didn’t hear that as he rode down the street they dubbed ‘Mirkwood’.
Yes, he lived the farthest away from… anything really; His friends’ houses, his school, the nearby strip mall, pretty much everything that was ‘useful’, But he didn’t mind it. As long as his family was happy with their place he could go along with it.
So Will continued to ride, in his own head that was causing him to ignore when his headlight flickered off and on until his bike chain magically came apart. 
The boy gasped and swerved in a jagged line, worriedness on his features as he used his feet to forcefully come to a complete halt. Stopping along the side of the road, he looked down, trying to figure out what the problem was. While doing so, he didn’t even notice a car had slowed and rolled its window down.
“Will?” The person in the vehicle said, catching him by surprise. 
He was met with a familiar face, the fair skin, freckled nose, and dark curls tied back in a small pony was a girl he practically grew up with. Ironically, she was the older sister of the boy he raced, Stephanie Henderson.
“Steph?” He said, still shocked as he watched her get out. Those bright blue eyes of hers trailed to his only transportation and frowned.
“What happened to your bike?” 
“Uh, chain broke. I think.” Will says, looking at it again, and then back at her. “You’re coming home late.”
“You’ll understand when you have a job and a crappy boss.” She smiles, softly. “Come on. Put your bike in the car and I’ll drive you.”
“What?” He looks at her in disbelief. “Are you sure? You came that direction.”
“You know I don’t mind. Besides, it’s quicker and safer than walking. Plus I’m sure your brother and mother would appreciate it.” She says, opening the back door.
“But what about your mom?”
“I called her already and told her that I’ll be a little late.” She gestures to the car. “Come on.” He smiles and puts the bike in before hopping in the passenger seat. She even spoils him by handing him a paper brown bag. “Cinnamon bun?”
His eyes light up. “Actually, Dustin betted me that if I beat him in a race back to his house I can have whatever you bring.”
“Then I guess they’re all yours.” She turns the car around. “So how was your campaign?”
“It was good until the end.” He takes a bite of the pastry. “I ended up getting beaten by the Demogorgon.”
“Remind me what that is again?”
“He’s a two headed demon prince. Very evil.”
“I see.”
Another bite and a small hum. “You should try playing it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Now he was like a kid in a candy store. “You can be… our mage! A druid, or maybe even a ranger.”
She chuckles quietly. “I… have no idea what any of that even means. But uh… I’ll give it a shot. What’s the worst that can happen? I hate it?”
“Or you get eaten by a Demogorgon.”
“That’s true.” Steph agreed, and continued their light conversation until something strange started to happen. She watches as her headlights suddenly start to flicker. “What the?”
“Look out!” Will yelled, and her eyes snapped back up just in time to spot the bizarre looking figure in the road. 
She gasps and veers off the road, foot slamming into the brakes as it rolled down and down into the woods, crashing into a tree. Now, it wasn’t that bad of a hit, more like a little thump, but still. A crash is a crash.
Stephanie lets out a pant, tiling her baseball cap back up to look worriedly towards her passenger. “Shit! You okay?”
“Uh…” He nods, a little shaken up, but looking unharmed. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Another pant and she looks around. “Who that fuck was that?!” She snaps, upset. “Who the fuck stands in the middle of the road at nine o’clock at night?!”
But as she was having her meltdown, Will was staring at the side mirror and paled. “Steph?” He says, terrified.
“What?”
“I think he’s coming.”
“What?” She followed his eyes to the mirror before turning around. Standing behind them a few feet away was the figure who made her heart sink at its unnaturally long arms, and fingers coming at a point. Now she starts pales. “That’s not a person.”
“Huh?”
She starts fiddling with the door. “Get out of– Get out of the car, now!”
Once they were both out, she snags him by the wrist and pulls him along, running as fast as they could, a few miles down, all the way back to what their destination was. As soon as they stepped a foot inside the Byers home, the family’s dog, Chester, started barking defensively as she told the boy to lock the door.
“Mom? Jonathan? Mom?!” He replies after finishing the task, but alas it seems like they were the only ones home.
“Ms. Byers?!” Steph yells out, biting her lip. “Shit.” She runs for the phone as he looks out a window and sees the figure approaching the house. She tries dialing 911, but all she receives on the other end is static. “What the fuck?!”
“It’s unlocking the chain!” Will yells, backing away as she takes a look. Sure enough, they watched the chain on the door slide itself across the track as the other locks started to turn (What in the fresh hell is going on?!).
“Come on!” She pulls him away, thinking the only thing they can do is protect themselves now. 
They both run into the shed in the back, Will remembering what his mother had told him if something to this degree started happening, and begins loading the shotgun on the wall. 
“Is that all you got?” She asked, searching around for anything else she could use.
“Y-Yeah.” He mutters, and frantically points the weapon at the door, trembling as the girl stood behind him, hands over his and shielding his body protectively.
“If that thing comes in, shoot it. I’ll hold you steady so you don’t fall back.” She says, and he nods (His body subconsciously pressing into hers out of fear and comfort).
But the next few moments were tedtious, hearing that thing growling, which got louder and louder, until it sounded like it was right next to them. Steph, who felt the wind get knocked out of her, was the first to turn around, eyes widened as she kept the boy behind her, feeling him clench her jacket. 
“What the fuck are you?!” She screamed, the growling turning into screeching. 
Then the light in the shed gets brighter and brighter– Until everything suddenly stops.
Then…
.
.
.
There was no one left.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
As soon as the sun touched his face, the boy reached over and shut his alarm clock off before it could even ring. Groaning and stretching, he was feeling extremely exhausted after being up so late (But last night was so fun, it was totally worth it!). Grinning a toothless grin, Dustin rolled out of bed, his clothes in hand as he strolls to the end of the hall for the bathroom. However–
He lets out a sigh and throws his head back at the door being closed. “Oh, my god. Phanie! I told you I needed to use the bathroom first on school days.” Seriously, how many times has he told his sister this? He doesn’t get a reply, and bangs on the door. “Phanie!! Are you listening?”
And on the last knock, to his surprise, the door creaked open. Being cautious, he poked his head inside finding the light was off and the room was unoccupied. 
“Huh.” He said, looking around again. “Okay…” He quickly gets ready for the day, fixing his curls so his hat stays on, before adventuring back out. “Goodbye, sleepyhead!”
And once again, Dustin was shocked to find that now his sister’s room was unoccupied as well. The only thing present was their cat, Mews, who was curled up in a ball on the still perfectly made bed… with everything on it still looking the same in place.
What the? He thought, before heading for the kitchen where his mother was listening to the news.
// -And that’s it for News Center this morning. Thanks for joining us. Let’s hand off now to Liz at the news desk //
// All right, thank you, Donna. Turning now to local news, we’re getting reports of surges and power outages all across the county. Last night, hundreds of homes in East Hawkins were affected, leaving many residents in the dark. The cause of the outage is still unknown. We reached out to Roane County Water and Electric, and a spokesperson says that they are confident power will be restored to all remaining homes within the next– //
“Hey, mom, have you seen Stephanie?” He asked, ignoring the fact his mother was making him his favorite breakfast meal.
“Stephanie?” His mother, Claudia, asked as she slid him a plate. “No, I haven’t.”
“She’s not in her room.” He replies, taking a seat, thinking. “Did you see her come home last night?”
“Well, she did call me saying that she was going to be late, but I’ll admit, I dozed off before I heard her come in.” She notices her son’s worried expression, and smiles. “Oh, don’t worry, Dusty-buns. I’m sure she had to just pick up a friend for school. I can drive you.”
“No, I can bike, I just…” He trails off, not really hungry anymore. We always eat together.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, in another household. Joyce Byers was rummaging around her living room for her keys, cursing under her breath after every failed attempt.
“Where the hell are they?” She sighs. “Jonathan?”
“Check the couch!” Her oldest child said from the kitchen.
“Ugh, I did.” She moves the cushions around again, finally spotting them. “Oh, got them.” She smiles and comes over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “Okay, sweetie, I will see you tonight.”
“Yeah, see you later.” He says, finishing up the eggs.
“Where’s Will?”
“Oh, I didn’t get him up yet. He’s probably still sleeping.”
Joyce sighs, already leaving the room. “Jonathan, you have to make sure he’s up!”
“Mom, I’m making breakfast.”
“I told you this a thousand times. Will!” She claps her hands. “Come on, honey. It’s time to get up.” She pushes open his door only to find that his bed was empty. “He came home last night, right?”
Jonathan’s heart sank as he faced his mother. “He’s not in his room?
“Did he come home or not?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No. I-I got home late. I was working.”
She gives her son ‘the look’. “You were working?”
“Eric asked if I could cover. I said yeah. I just thought we could use the extra cash.”
“Jonathan, we’ve talked about this.”
He frowns, looking away. “I know…”
“You can’t take shifts when I’m working.” She says, wheels turning in her head at where he could be.
“Mom, it’s not a big deal.” He makes eye contact again. “Look, he was at the Wheelers’ all day. I’m sure he just stayed over.”
“I can’t believe you.” She says, already grabbing the phone. “I can’t believe you sometimes.” She starts dialing the phone number she knows by heart and waits.
[ ‘Hello?’ ]
“Hi, Karen. It’s Joyce.”
[ ‘Oh, Joyce, hi.’ ]
Before Joyce could ask, she hears a ruckus in the background.
[ ‘Quiet!’ ]
“Was that Will I heard back there?” She asked, hopefully.
[ ‘Will? No, no, no, it’s just Mike.’ ]
“Will didn’t spend the night?”
[ ‘No, he left here a little bit after 8:00. Why? He’s not home?’] 
Joyce tries to keep the panic off her face as she replies, “Um, you know what? I think he just left early for... for school. Thank you so much.”
[ ‘Okay.’ ]
“Bye.”
[ ‘Bye.’ ]
Joyce hangs up the phone, exchanging concerned glances with her eldest child.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Three out of the four boys rode to school that morning, chattering away about a certain person that’ll only end in sadness. Frowning as they slowed down to their usual bike rack that laid empty before them.
“That’s weird. I don’t see him.” Mike said, noticing the absent bike. Did he park somewhere else this time?
“I’m telling you, his mom’s right.” Lucas said, trying to be the reasonable one. “He probably just went to class early again. You know he’s always paranoid that Gursky’s gonna give him another pop quiz.”
“That’s true.”
“Yeah… pop quiz...” Dustin mumbled, being completely distant from the group. 
Lucas sighs, rolling his eyes. “Dude, you still worried about your sister?” 
“Well, yeah! I mean, why was she not home? We always eat breakfast with each other, how could she just skip out on it?”
“She’s sixteen, you know? You’re just overreacting. I’m sure Steph is fine.”
“I don’t man, this ain’t like her.”
“Dustin–”
“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen!” A bully, named Troy, announced as he came over with another boy. “Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show.” He smirks. “Who do you think would make more money in a freak show?” He pushes Lucas first. “Midnight–” Then Mike. “Frogface–” Then Dustin. “Or Toothless?”
The other bully, James, looks pensive for a moment before making his decision with a point. “I’d go with Toothless.”
Dustin’s cheeks flush out of embarrassment. “I told you a million times, my teeth are coming in. It’s called cleidocranial dysplasia.”
“‘I told you a million times’.” James mocks, and laughs. 
“Do the arm thing.” Troy pressures, as Dustin takes a small step back.
“Do it, freak!” Deciding to just comply, Dustin cracks his arms with his collar bone, making him and Troy groan and recoil. “God, it gets me every time.”
Then the two of them push through the boys as they leave for class; The trio sending them a death glare.
“Assholes.” Luca scoffed.
“I think it’s kinda cool.” Mike said, trying to cheer Dustin up. “It’s like you have superpowers or something. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
Dustin chuckles. “Yeah, except I can’t fight evil with it.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, in the high school next door, Mike’s older sister was hustling inside, books in hand, acting all flustered. It especially didn’t help when her friend came over, grinning like the Chester Cat.
“So, did he call? The ginger girl, Barb, asked all giggly.
The sister, Nancy, shushes her looking around. “Keep your voice down.”
She nudges her with her elbow. “Did he?”
“I told you, it’s not like that.” Nancy blushes harder when Barb gave her a look. “Okay, I mean, yes, he likes me, but not like that. We just made out a couple times.
Barb raises an eyebrow. “‘We just made out a couple times’. Nance, seriously, you’re gonna be so cool now, it’s ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.” She shakes her head while unlocking her locker.
“You better still hang out with me, that’s all I’m saying. If you become friends with Tommy H. or Carol–”
“Oh, that’s gross!”
“I’m just saying, you better still be friends with me. I heard that the King pushed a close friend out of his circle when he took the throne and–”
“Okay, I’m telling you, it was a one-time... two-time thing.”
She opens her locker, finding a note that read: MEET ME IN BATHROOM -STEVE.
Barb’s expression grew. “You were saying?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Before you know it, Nancy is having a make out session with the highschool’s King, Steve “The Hair” Harrington. The cocky bad boy that every girl fawns over, and the physic that every guy envies. If you wanted any kind of popularity while running around this place, you had to make a guarantee that he would be in your corner.
“Steve.” Nancy croaked in between kisses, making him hum. “I have to go.”
“In a minute.” He mumbled, nibbling at her neck as the school bell rings.
“Steve–” She nudged her way out from him. “I really, like seriously, I have to go.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s…” He snags her bag, keeping her in place for a second. “Come on, let’s do something tonight, yeah?”
“No, I can’t. I have to study for Kaminsky’s test.”
“Oh, come on. What’s your GPA again? 3.999–”
“Kaminsky’s tests are impossible.”
“Well, then, just let me help.” He said, smirking.
She rolls her eyes with a smile. “You failed chem.”
“C-minus.”
“Well, in that case–”
“So I’ll be over around, say, like, 8:00?”
“Are you crazy?” Nancy shakes her head. “My mom would not–”
“I’ll climb through your window.” He insisted, all pumped up at the idea. “She won’t even know I’m there. I’m stealthy, like a ninja.”
“You are crazy.” She says, taking her bag back and starts leaving. 
“Wait, wait, wait. Just…” He steps in front of her. “Okay, forget about that. We can just– We can just, like, chill in my car. We can find a nice quiet place to park, and–”
“Steve, I have to study. I’m not kidding.”
“Well, why do you think I want it to be nice and quiet?”
That got her to crack another smile. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” She replies, stepping around him. “Meet me at Dearborn and Maple at 8:00. To study.”
The school bell rings again, leaving behind a very satisfied teen.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Alright, class, I’ll be your sub for today.” The man explains, writing his name on the board. “I’m Mr. Dunwoody. If you have any questions, please refrain before I take attendance.” He ignores as some of the ‘cool kids’ snickered under their breaths and chuck paper balls around. “Uh, Barkley?”
“Here.”
“Brown?”
“Here.”
“Byers?” No reply. “Jonathan Byers?” He scopes the room, the seat in the back corner was absent. “No Byers. M’kay, uh, Davidson?”
“Present.”
“Evans?”
“Here.”
“Eubank?”
“Here.”
“Henderson.” No reply, he looks around – Yet another seat in the back unattended (And certain eyes following). “Henderson? Is a… Stephanie Henderson in?” His gaze shifts with the class’ and frowns. “No, okay. Uh, Harrington?” Silence. “Harrington?”
Steve blinks and faces forward, snapping out of his trace. “Uh, present.”
“‘Kay, uh–” He started shooting off more names, but the teenager wasn’t honestly listening. Something about that empty space (the space that seemed so far away now) didn’t sit right with him. And the gossiping in the background wasn’t helping his troubled mind either.
“Maybe grunge girl finally got the hint.” 
“Oh, yeah. For sure.” 
“Do you think the pressure made her drop out?”
“Drop out?” A laugh. “Maybe she took a dive off the overpass.”
“Guess we’ll have to check the news later for that!”
They laughed under their breaths and Steve’s hands started subconsciously squeezing his crossed arms. This shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like they’re–
He didn’t even realize he was turning around to say something if it was for Tommy’s hand snagging his shoulder. It, and he’s not sure if he can admit, hurt in a way he can’t describe. They both locked eyes, and Tommy shook his head ‘no’ just as the substitute finished calling out names, starting the soulless class.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
As usual the town’s head sheriff was strolling into his job late and looking like he’d been hit by truck after truck. His five o’clock shadow was strong and so were the bags under his eyes; Jim Hopper walks in with a lit cigarette in his hand, the receptionist amazed by his appearance.
“Good of you to show.” She said, as he passed by and gave a small nod to the other officers present.
“Oh, hey, morning, Flo. Morning, everybody.” He says, heading for the small kitchenette to pour himself some coffee.
“Hey, Chief.” Powell greeted with a grin.
“Damn! You look like hell, Chief.” Callahan replies, looking up from his game of cards.
“Oh, yeah?” Hopper spares him a look.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I looked better than your wife when I left her this morning.” His response made his brothers bust a gut as the elderly woman came over, trying to get his attention.
“While you were drinking or sleeping, or whatever it is you deemed so necessary on Monday morning, Phil Larson called. Said some kids are stealing the gnomes out of his garden again.” Flo explains, as he tries not to roll his eyes (or maybe he did?).
“Oh, those garden gnomes again.” He sighs, and picks up a donut too. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna get right on that.”
Flo keeps a straight face, used to his antics by now. “On a more pressing matter, Joyce Byers can’t find her son this morning.”
He hums after taking a bite of the pastry. “Okay, I’m gonna get on that.” He starts walking away. “Just give me a minute.”
“Joyce is very upset.” She pushes, as he shakes his head.
“Well, Flo– Flo, we’ve discussed this. Mornings are for coffee and contemplation.”
“Chief, she’s already in your–”
“Coffee and contemplation, Flo!” He shouts as he leaves the room, and, due to not paying attention, is surprised to see Ms. Byers already waiting in his office. His jaw clenched. “Okay… Missing? I’ve been told.”
“Yes, missing!” Joyce says, watching him sit down and start typewriting a file out for her boy. Worriedly she waits for him to finish, even smoking bud after bud to calm the jitters. “I have been waiting here over an hour, Hopper.”
“And I apologize.” He says, trying to calm her.
“I’m going out of my mind!”
“Look, boy his age, he’s probably just playing hooky, okay?”
She shakes her head. “No, not my Will. He’s not like that– He wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, you never know.” He suggests, a little smirk growing on his lips. “I mean, my mom thought I was on the debate team, when really I was just screwing Chrissy Carpenter in the back of my dad’s Oldsmobile, so–”
“Look, he’s not like you, Hopper. He’s not like me. He’s not like most.” She explains, her face saddening. “He has a couple of friends, but, you know, the kids, they’re mean. They make fun of him. They call him names. They laugh at him, his clothes–”
“His clothes?” Hopper’s eyebrows shoot up. “What’s wrong with his clothes?”
“I don’t know. Does that matter?”
“Maybe.”
Joyce inhales deeply. “Look, he’s... He’s a sensitive kid. Lonnie…” God she could punch that man right now. “Lonnie used to say he was queer. Called him a fag.”
Another eyebrow raise. “Is he?”
“He’s missing! Is what he is.” 
“When was the last time you heard from Lonnie?”
“Uh, last I heard, he was in Indianapolis. That was about a year ago. But he has nothing to do with this.”
“Why don’t you give me his number?”
“You know, Hopper, he has nothing to do with this. Trust me.”
Hopper’s body straightens, hands coming to rest on his desk to make sure she was listening. “Joyce, 99 out of 100 times, kid goes missing, the kid is with a parent or relative.”
Her eyes widened. “What about the other time?”
He blinks. “What?”
“You said, ‘99 out of 100’. What about the other time, the one?”
“Joyce.”
“The one!”
Hopper tries to deescalate again. “Joyce, this is Hawkins, okay? You wanna know the worst thing that’s ever happened here in the four years I’ve been working here?” He could hold back a small smile. “Do you wanna know the worst thing? It was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s head because it thought that her hair was a nest.”
Joyce sighs. “Okay, fine. I will call Lonnie. He will talk to me before he talks to–”
“What, a pig?”
“A cop! Just find my son, Hop. Find him!”
And then came a knock on the doorframe, which happened to be Flo who looked apologetic this time.
“Chief, I’m sorry, I have another hectic parent. A Ms. Claudia Henderson is here to see you.”
“What?” Hopper said, and just before he could blink, a blonde woman came stumbling in, all nervous just like someone else in present.
“Hopper, I’m sorry if you’re busy, but–”
“Claudia?” Joyce said, standing up with surprise. 
“Joyce?” Claudia’s face washes over with relief upon seeing her. “What brings you here?”
“It’s Will, I can’t find him.” She says, missing the way the other woman’s face lost all color. “And apparently he didn’t go to school either.”
“Well, what a coincidence. I can’t find my daughter, either.”
And then all eyes are now on the police Chief who was dumbfounded this was all happening at once. After a moment, he sighed and pulled Will’s form out of the typewriter before sliding in a new piece of paper.
“Alright.” He gestures to the chair. “Let’s hear your story.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
And then that’s how the police chief found himself at a middle school. His first “suspects” in this case was Will’s inner circle of friends. But what he wasn’t expecting while sitting in the principal’s office was the trio to be talking over one another frantically.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Hopper says, waving for them to stop which they did. “One at a time, all right?” He points to Mike. “You. You said he takes what?”
“Mirkwood.” Mike said, confusing him.
“Mirkwood?”
“Yeah.”
Hopper sighs, looking at his partner. “Have you ever heard of Mirkwood?”
“I have not.” Callahan shakes his head. “That sounds made up to me.”
“No, it’s from Lord of the Rings.” Lucas says, offended.
“Well, The Hobbit.” Dustin pushes as his friend rolls his eyes.
“Who cares?”
“He asked!”
“‘He asked’!” Lucas mocked which started their bickering again.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Hopper yells, getting to stop once more. “What’d I just say? One at a damn time.” He points to Mike again. “You.”
“Mirkwood, it’s a real road. It’s just the name that’s made up. It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Mike explains, giving the Chief a picture now.
“Yeah, all right, I think I know that.”
“We can show you, if you want.” The boy replies, his friends agreeing with him immediately. 
Hopper shakes his head. “I said that I know it!”
“We can help look.” Mike pleads.
“Yeah.” Dustin encouraged.
“No.” The boys try to protest, but he shuts it down again. “No. After school, you are all to go home. Immediately. That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn’t some Lord of the Rings book.”
“The Hobbit.” Dustin mumbles, quietly.
“Shut up!” Lucas said, elbowing him.
“Hey!”
“Stop it!” Hopper snaps, while standing up. “Do I make myself clear?” He gets no answer. “Do I make myself clear?”
Mike nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He faces the principal. “Sir, thank you for your time.”
“Wait!” Dustin cuts in, and makes the man groan.
“What?”
“What about my sister? You mentioned her earlier. What about her?”
“Kid, listen, your sister’s sixteen, and to be honest, I believe a teenager playing hooky more than your friend Will. Okay?” Hopper tried to leave again, but the kid wasn’t letting up.
“But Stephanie’s not like that! I mean, yeah, she doesn’t necessarily like school, but she always studies hard to get good grades. She’s a good noodle.” Dustin frowns worriedly. “Trust me, she would never skip school. I mean… did you even check the parking lot to see if her car was there? Or the mall that she works at?”
I guess… the kid did have a point, Hopper will admit that one. He locks eyes with his partner who shrugs.
“I mean, we might as well kill two birds with one stone while we’re here.” Callahan says, truthfully.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Hopper sighs. “Okay. So Dustin, did your sister have any… friends we could talk to?” Then they got quiet, looking amongst themselves. “What? No? She didn’t? Or–?”
“Well, not really.” Dustin admits, bittersweet. “I mean, she probably hangs out with us more than anything at this point.”
“I mean, she’s friends with that douchebag Steve.” Lucas said, upset.
“Was friends. Not anymore.” Mike clarifies.
“Was a friend?” Hopper asked, skeptical. “What happened?”
“Not sure. They were inseparable until one day they just… weren’t.” Dustin replies, which was the truth. He remembers seeing Steve around a few times as he grew up, but then one day his sister stopped going out and didn’t even mention him anymore. Then before he knew it, he witnessed first hand the boy’s ‘asshole’ attitude (Makes him glad that she wasn’t around him anymore).
“Okay, then. What’s his name?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Steve Harrington.” 
Steve stopped himself from getting into his BMW to look who was calling him out. To his shock he found two police officers in his presence, and immediately felt sick.
“Um, can I help you, officers?” He asked, paying no heed to the passing stares from other students.
“I’m officer Hopper, this is my partner Callahan. We just want to ask you a few questions.” Hopper explains, as the teenager nods.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, son. As long as you comply.”
“Okay.”
“Alright then, do you know a girl by the name of Stephanie Henderson?”
His heart sank again like earlier. “Stephanie?” Steve asked, his throat feeling tight (Why was his throat closing up?).
“Yeah. We were told by her brother that you guys used to be friends. Is that true?”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Have you spoken to her recently? Seen her?” Hopper asked, getting a shake of his head.
“Seen her? Yeah, I mean I see her everyday, we’re in the same classes, but I didn’t see her today.” Steve shifts his weight around on his feet. “As for talking, I haven’t spoken to her in years.”
“So you haven’t had any real contact with her?”
“No, sir.” Steve watches the two adults exchange glances which pique his interest. “May I ask what’s going on with her? Is she in trouble?”
“Not necessarily trouble, I would say. Her mom came down by the station earlier and reported her missing, saying she didn’t see her in the morning and when they called the school she wasn’t there.”
“If I’m being honest, son, she’s a teenager, she probably just wanted some time alone.” Callahan replies, with a half shrug. “Besides, everyone knows her mother’s a bit… out there. She tends to overreact.”
“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Harrington. We appreciate your time.” Hopper replies, bidding him a farewell as he begins to leave (but this wasn’t sitting right with the boy’s stomach).
“She never misses her classes though.” Steve blurts out, getting their attention. “Even now, even if we aren’t friends, I notice she never misses school. It’s completely out of her character.”
It really is though. Steve waited until the officers processed his comment, before nodding.
“Noted.” Was all Hopper said and they left, leaving him high and dry, wondering what was truly going on. He was so stuck in his head he didn’t even notice Tommy and Carol making their way towards him.
“Oooh, looks like someone’s in trouble.” Tommy coos, with a grin.
“What did you do, Harrington? Slash Tammy Thompson’s tires finally?” Carol asked, making herself laugh.
But Steve didn’t find this funny, instead his attention was turned back to climbing in the passenger seat. “I gotta go home.”
“What?” Tommy said, caught off guard.
“I gotta go home.”
“What? But you said we were going to the movies?”
“Maybe tomorrow I–” He couldn’t even think straight. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shuts his car door as his name is being called, and quickly pulls away.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Along the Mirkwood road, the three officers were paneling out, surveying the area. Everyone was shouting Will’s name, except Hopper who nerves were shooting through the roof; So much so, he had to stop and pop a pill. These kinds of situations, especially evolving children, were hard for him to deal with. It reminded him too much of his own–
Wait a minute. Were his eyes deceiving him? Does actually see this or was this another one of his episodes? 
But after triple checking, he finally calls the others forward. “Hey! I think I got something.”
He steps off the room, jogging a few feet into the woods. If it wasn’t for the daylight, he surely would have missed a huge clue that was being covered by a few shrubs and ankle deep piles of autumn leaves. Smashed into one of the sweet gum trees was a car, windshield cracked and lightly powdered in stray branches.
“I don’t remember hearing anything about crashes this morning.” Powell said, confused as he examined it. 
Hopper’s keen eyes also caught something lying in the backseat and pulled it out. He frowns, his nerves spiking again. “This is Will’s bike.”
“His bike?” Powell asked, suspicious now. “You don’t think this was uh… a kidnapping?”
“It’s possible. But it doesn’t explain why the kidnapper would crash and abandon the car. Then leave evidence of the child behind.”
“Now, what a second.” Callahan said, perking up. “This is a 1975 Tan Ford Granada, the same car that Ms. Henderson said her daughter drives.”
Hopper’s eyes widen as he sets the bike down. “She also said that her daughter had a Journey keychain.” He opens the driver door, and sure enough, still in the dead ignition, there was a little band keychain dangling off her car key. “Shit.” He locks eyes with his partners. “Which way is the mall?”
Powell pointed in the direction that he feared the most. It was in the same direction the Byers’ house was. Now it was starting to make sense. 
“What are you thinking, Chief?” 
Hopper frowns. “Well, if you look at the bike, the chain’s broken. My guess, Stephanie was driving by and saw him on the side of the road, and offered him a ride home.”
“Then how do you explain the car being off road?”
He sighs, dreading for the answer (both in a good and a bad way). “I’m not sure.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Saying Joyce Byers was livid was probably not a strong enough word after being hung up on so many times. Why, out of the times she actually needed to talk to her ex-husband, he doesn’t answer the phone?! She could pull all her hair out from that man. No wonder they were divorced since he frustrates her so–
“Mom?” Jonathan said, standing up from the couch (He was currently making missing child signs for his brother).
“What?” 
“Cops.” Sure enough, they saw many cop cars pull up, including a tow truck with a car none of them recognize. 
“Is that his bike?” Joyce said, worriedly once she was outside. “And who’s car is that?”
“We found this in Stephanie Henderson’s car.” Hopper replies, sitting the bike down. 
“Stephanie’s car?” Jonathan said, surprised. Well, I guess he shouldn’t be that surprise, ‘cause although they’re not exactly friends as one thinks they might be, given the situation, he knows her enough that she’s the type of girl to give you the shirt off her back if you need it.
“Our best guess right now is that she saw him on the side of the road and offered to drive him back. It makes sense since her mother told us Stephanie called to let her know she’ll be running late from work. And given the time stamp Will’s friends provided us, them crossing paths match up.”
“But that still doesn’t explain everything!” Joyce says, trying to piece this together. “Where did you find her car?”
He sighs quietly. “Down off the road, into the forest.” He starts walking away, motioning for his men to follow him. “Split up, fellas.” He said, once they were inside.
“Did it have any blood on it? Or– or what was the condition of the car? Did it slide off the road?” Joyce asked as she followed him around. “And why are you here instead of looking?”
“Well, he had a key to the house, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So maybe he came home. Maybe they both came home.”
Joyce scoffs, stepping in front of him. “You think I didn’t check my own house?”
“I’m not saying that.” He says, eyes trailing away upon catching something else. “Has this always been here?” He walked over and pointed to an indent in the wall.
“What? I don’t know. Probably. I mean, I have two boys. Look at this place.”
He suddenly opens the door to the backyard, the doorknob trailing directly to the spot of the mini hole. “You’re not sure?” He’s about to question it some more when the dog suddenly starts barking. He heads outside, finding Chester angrily staring down the shed. “Hey, what’s up with this guy, huh?”
“Nothing, he’s probably just hungry.” Joyce said, after following him out. She sighs and drags the dog by the collar. “Come on.”
But as they left, Hopper’s gaze was focused on the shed. Why was the dog so wound up from that place? Treading carefully, he goes inside, flipping the lightswitch on that buzzed lightly above. His eyes scaled the room, immediately noticing something. His fingers wrapped around the box full of shotgun shells, realizing it was half empty.
Empty? He thought, setting it down and heading for where the weapon would be stored. But the two hooks screwed into the wall were bare, and to a shock, when his fingers brushed where it should be, the light suddenly shut itself off.
Out of instinct his hand latched around a flashlight nearby, turning it on. He turned the light towards the door, wondering if someone was just screwing with him but… no one. 
Okay… not creepy at all. He trailed it around, looking closely, nothing making him want to stand on his toes until he decided to turn around. That’s when he saw the back half of the shed was a mess, shelves torn off, boxes and objects thrown everywhere, some even being crushed under some kind of weight. Even the hair on the back of his neck stood up when he swears he could hear someone growling.
His heart was beating in his ears as he crouched down, looking around for anything. (Un)Luckily enough, there was no kid laying emotionless in the pile. He frowns, wondering what scared the boy so much that he went to grab a gun. And then–
Something shiny caught his eye.
He reached out and picked it up, a gold chain unraveled, showing off a heart shaped pendant with two initials carved into it. 
S.H.
“Shit.” Hopper whispered, horrified.
“Hey!”
He shot to his feet, turning around to face his brother in blue. “Jesus!”
“What are you, deaf? I’ve been calling you.” Callahan said, before noticing how ill his boss looked. “What’s going on?”
“Fuck…” Hopper mumbled and started racing back outside.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Chief?”
“Listen, I want you to call Flo. I want to get a search party together, all right? All the volunteers she can muster. Bring flashlights, too.”
“Chief?” Callahan stops him before he goes back into the house. “Hey, you think we got a problem here?”
“I don’t think, I know.” Hopper shows off the necklace. “We’re going to the Henderson’s house.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Dustin watches with fear as the officers explain the situation on hand about his older sister. His mom of course was hysterical, giving the professionals a challenge to get answers out of her. 
“Oh, who could have hurt my baby? And poor Will too.” Claudia sobbed into her handkerchief. “She’s always so kind to others, of course she would have offered him a ride.”
“Ma’am, I know you’re upset, and we’re sending a search party out as soon as possible. But I just need you to confirm that this is your daughter’s, then we can make this one big old case.” Hoppy explains, trying not to be snappy with his words. “Now–” He shows off the necklace. “Is this your daughter’s?”
Dustin’s eyebrows shot up through the roof. “She still wears that?!” He said, shocking both himself and the officer.
“What?”
“Y-Yes.” Claudia said, nodding. “That’s hers.”
“Thank you.” Hopper says, placing it in her palm. He spins his heels around to Powell. “Let’s go. We got two missing people we’re looking for.” 
“Please find her.” She begged, getting his attention once more. “I can’t lose my only daughter.” But all she gets is a sad nod from him as he leaves, watching as all the cars pull off her driveway in a hurry. She sighs and then gasps when felt her son take the necklace away from her, studying it intensely. “Dusty, why were you so surprised she still wears it?”
“Don’t you remember who gave this to her?” He asked, slightly sour.
“Well, no.”
He sighs, and starts leaving the room. “It’s nothing.” 
And it should stay that way.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, later in the day, a heated discussion was going on at the Wheeler’s house over a nice homemade dinner.
“We should be out there right now. We should be helping look for him.” Mike said for the millionth time tonight, extremely close to igniting the fuse in his own mother.
“We’ve been over this, Mike.” Karen said, drawing her attention away from her toddler. “The chief says–”
“I don’t care what the chief said.”
“Michael!”
“We have to do something! Will can be in danger.”
“More reason to stay put.”
“Mom!”
“End of discussion.” She snapped, silencing her son. But when one bird stops chirping, another one decides to start a tune.
“So me and Barbara are gonna study at her house tonight. That’s cool, right?” Nancy says, not an ask, but that of course gets shot down too.
“No, not cool.”
“What? Why not?”
“Why do you think? Am I speaking Chinese in this house? Until we know Will is okay, no one leaves.”
“This is such bullshit.” Nancy replies, dropping her fork.
“Language.” Ted chimes in, still munching on his food.
“So we’re under house arrest? Just because Mike’s friend got lost on the way home from–”
“Wait, this is Will’s fault?” Mike spat, sending daggers at his sister.
“Nancy, take that back.” Karen warned, as Holly started to get teary eyed.
“No!” Nancy scoffed.
“You’re just pissed off ‘cause you wanna hang out with Steve.” Mike quips, sending the whole room into silence. He swallows when he realizes he messed up (and how his sister looked like she was going to kill him).
“Steve?” Her father asked, finally tuning back in.
“Who is Steve?” Her mother asked, as her son decided to just roll with it anyway.
“Her new boyfriend.”
“You are such a douchebag, Mike!” Nancy yells, throwing the chair back and marching out of the room.
“Language!” Ted says, as Karen sighs.
“Nancy, come back. Come back!” She shakes her head, and cups her youngest cheek. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Holly.” She holds up her sippy cup. “Here, have some juice, okay?”
“You see, Michael? You see what happens?”
“What happens when what?” Mike snaps again, still in disbelief. “I’m the only one acting normal here! I’m the only one that cares about Will!”
“That is really unfair, son. We care.” And now his words drove his son away from the dinner table.
“Mike!” Karen yells after him too.
“Let him go.” Ted encourages, as his wife picks up their child.
“I hope you’re enjoying your chicken, Ted.” She says, then leaves herself.
“What did I do?” He notices he is truly alone now. “What’d I do?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Dustin was sitting on his bed, holding his sister’s necklace in his palm. It was a gold color chain with a dark red heart shaped guitar pick. It even had her initials scratched into it. Such a beautiful and expensive gift. However, he still wonders why she even still wears it. Especially since it was gifted by none of other then–
[ ‘Dustin, do you copy? It’s Lucas.’ ]
He perked up from the voice of his friend coming through on his walkie, and scrambled off the bed to his desk. “Lucas. What’s up?”
[ ‘Mike just called me. Says he wants to go out looking for Will.’ ]
“Looking for Will?” He gasps at how perfect this was. “We can look for Phanie too!”
[ ‘Steph? You mean she hasn’t come home yet?’ ]
“No! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Why don’t his friends listen to him sometimes? “So she’s out there, we have to go find her as well!”
[ ‘I mean, we can. But we’re biking over where Will was last–’ ]
“Oh, no. I got that! But…” Dustin frowns. “Wait. You didn’t hear?”
[ ‘Hear what?’ ]
“Oh, my god– Okay! Well, long story short, my sister wasn’t playing hooky like everyone thought.”
[ ‘What do you mean?’ ]
“According to the police, Phanie apparently gave Will a ride home before somewhere along the way, her car ended up in the woods. They found his bike in her car, and even found her necklace at his home. So, Lucas, my sister was with Will! It’s not just Will who’s missing! My sister is too! Together!”
He thought might have exploded his friend’s brain after the long silence he was given.
[ ‘Oh shit…’ ]
“Yeah!”
[ ‘We have to tell Mike this when we meet up. Don’t worry, man, we’ll find her too.’ ]
“And I have faith in us.” Dustin peeks outside his door. “My mom’s watching her shows right now to keep herself distracted. So we have a few hours.”
[ ‘Perfect. See you in ten.’ ]
“See you in ten.” He puts down the antenna, clenching the necklace in his palm. “Don’t worry, sis, we’re going to find you too.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
[ ‘I’m sorry.’ ]
He heard her apologize for the millionth time while over the phone. He can imagine her cute little face full of irritation (was that reason to be in love with a person?). 
[ ‘My… dumb mother has me under house arrest until morning.’ ]
“Don’t sweat it, Nance.” He said, leaning against the wall while they talked. “You know… I could always be sneaky like a ninja and–”
[ ‘No, Steve. You know what my parents would do if they caught you?’ ]
He hums. “Um, congratulate me?”
[ ‘Steve.’ ]
Steve laughs. “Alright, alright. I’m joking. Uh–” He runs a hand through his locks. “We could… study over the phone?”
That was a good idea.
Right?
Her silence was making him worry. “Um, Nancy?”
[ ‘Sorry. I was thinking. It’s a tempting offer but… risky. I don’t want my parents eavesdropping.’ ]
“Do they tend to eavesdrop?”
[ ‘Steve!’ ]
“Alright, I’ll stop.”
[ ‘We’ll just see each other tomorrow.’ ]
“Of course we will.” He smiles. “As long as uh… the search for that Byers boy isn’t still going on. Heard they’re grabbing everyone in town.”
[ ‘Yeah. Well, it’s not just for him, l mean they’re looking for the Henderson girl too.’ ]
And there it is again.
The horrible, aching feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“S-Stephanie?” The air got trapped in his lungs (Why was it so hard to breathe?). “I thought Will just went missing?” It was just him, right? There’s no way she went missing too. And at the same time no less. “Right, Nancy?”
[ ‘No. From what it sounds like on the news I just overheard, she gave him a ride home, but her car was found abandoned with his bike in it. So… as of now, we have two people missing.’ ]
Stephanie’s really missing? Once again he’s asking himself that it shouldn’t hurt this much, right? It’s not like they’ve been acquitted in years, so–
[ ‘Steve? You there?’ ]
“Uh, um, N-Nancy I… I think I hear my parents. I… I-I got to go.” He said, slurring his words and could practically feel the strange look she was probably giving him right now.
[ ‘You okay?’ ]
“Y-Yeah. I’m… I’m good, I– I think it’s time for dinner.”
[ ‘Isn’t it kind of late for dinner now?’ ]
“Oh, you know, we Harringtons like to have it late. So, uh, pfff– I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Have fun studying.”
[ ‘Steve–’ ]
He hangs up the phone before she questions him anymore.
It just doesn’t make sense. They’re not friends any more so…
.
.
.
Why does it hurt so much?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The rain was coming down like a monsoon. Thunder was starting to rumble, lightning was lingering around waiting to strike. Speaking of waiting… The Byers were on their couch, rummaging through photos that touched their emotions.
“Jonathan, wow. You took these?” Joyce asked, amazed by them. “These are great.” She got her son to crack a smile. “Wow, they really are.” Then came the sniffles again. “I-I know I haven’t been there for you. I’ve been working so hard and… I-I just feel bad. I don’t even barely know what’s going on with you. All right? I am so sorry about that.” And then the sobs started coming from her child. “Hey, what is it? What is it, honey?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me. Tell me.” Joyce urges, rubbing his forearm. “Come on. You can–”
“No. It’s just…” Jonathan’s blank expression broke. “I s-should’ve been there for him.”
“No. Oh, no. You can’t do that to yourself.” She shakes her own head and gives him a gentle squeeze. “This was not your fault. Do you hear me? He is… close. I know it. I-I feel it in my heart.” She clenches the left side of her chest. “You just have to… You have to trust me on this, okay?”
He nods while leaning into his mother’s touch. “Yeah.”
“Oh, look at this.” She says, picking one where it was just Will and his cute smile. “Look at this one.” It makes them both quietly laugh. “I mean, that’s it, right?”
“Yeah. That’s it.” He smiles sadly. “W-We should… see if Ms. Henderson had any photos of Stephanie. Maybe we can make a poster together.”
Then her whole world gets thrown around when she hears breathing. “Will?” She chokes, eyes widening. “Will? It’s Will!”
“That’s a good idea.” And the phone rings and she shoots off the couch. She prays and prays it’s good news as she yanks the phone off the receiver. “Hello?” She answers, which happened to be nothing but static.
“Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?”
Jonathan was by her side in a split second. “Mom, it’s Will?”
“Who is this?!” Joyce screamed when growling came on the other side. “What have you done to my boy? Give me back my son!” And whoever was truly on the other side, replied by shocking her with electricity. She shrieked and threw the phone away, her son picking it up right after.
“Hello? Hello, who is this?” Jonathan asked, the silence making him furiously hit the phone box. “Hello? Who is this?” He finally hangs up, turning towards his hysterical mother. “Mom, who was it? Who was it, Mom?”
“It was him.” She sobbed, as she was taken in his arms.
“Look at me, was it Will?”
“Yes!”
“What did he say?” Jonathan choked, as his mother reached for the phone, hoping they were still connected.
“He just breathed. He just breathed.”
“And was someone else there?”
“I–”
“Mom, who was there? Who was it?”
“It was him…” She wraps her arms around him, knees almost buckling at the emotional exhaustion. “I know it was his breathing. I know it was his breathing.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, in the deep depths of the forest, drenched head to toe, the trio was shouting until their lungs hurt, hoping to find any one of their loved ones. 
“Will!” 
“Stephanie!”
“Byers! Henderson!”
“Anyone?!”
Lucas sighs. “Guys, I’m starting to feel like this is hopeless.” 
“Don’t be a big sissy.” Dustin says, getting ‘the look’.
“I’m just being realistic, man.”
“Well, stop being realistic! My sister and Will are missing, and they’re fine.” They have to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they’re–
“Maybe…”
“Lucas!” Mike scolded, getting a shrug.
“What?” Lucas snapped. “I’m just saying. I mean, did any of you ever think Will and Steph went missing because they ran into something bad? And we happened to be going to the exact same spot where they were last seen? And we have no weapons or anything?”
“So?!” Dustin scoffed. “If it was any of us in their place, my sister and Will would be busting their asses trying to find us!”
“Really? How would you know that?”
“I just do!”
“Shut up!” Mike yells, facing them. Their jaws closed and he shushed them quietly. “Shut up and listen.” And then there was a faint sound of rustling. “Do you guys hear that?”
And then the rustling got louder and louder, the boys spinning on their heels and waving their flashlights around for any signs of life. Just as thunder roared and the spotlights moved to another side, that’s when they were practically blinding a person.
Although it was not Will or Stephanie.
It was another child, barefoot and in a shirt that was practically a dress.
Staring in amazed and confusion, the boys weren���t sure what to say except,
“What the hell?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||
The lights flickered back on with an audible gasp. 
She heaved the strange tasting air into her lungs, eyes adjusting to the bright world before it completely went dim, like an eclipse was happening just overhead. Before she could question where she was, she felt someone tug on her jacket and gasp themself.
Stephanie whipped her body around, catching the sight of the young boy who was now having a bit of coughing fit. “Will?” She says, taking the boy by his shoulders, relieved to see him.
“S-Steph?” He choked, taking a moment to look around with his big cocoa eyes. “What just happened?”
Well that was the million dollar question. What actually happened?
She takes a moment to finally look around herself, realizing they were in the… same spot? Yeah… the same spot. They were still inside the shed, still holding the shotgun, but the only difference was no… what can you even call that thing they encountered?
“We’re still in the shed. But it’s…” Will crinkled his button nose at the sight. “Gross.”
Steph swallows, blue orbs landing on the door. “Stay behind me.” She lets herself push open the shed door slowly, heart beating like crazy as she luckily met with no scary creature. She shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”
The outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.
Holy shit… She thought, before feeling around her head, worriedly. She then locked eyes with him and asked, “Did you hit your head when we crashed?” He shakes his head, fueling her emotions. So they weren’t dreaming or having a concussion. So what even is this place? 
Where the hell are we? And in the distance…
A creature snarled…
.
.
.
While waiting for his orders from his master beyond.
(TBC)
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A/N: 😬🤭🫣
-Taglist is Open-
@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz
@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl
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skyfallslayer · 5 months
Text
The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil
-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?
🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.
🖤 Date: 12/06/23
🖤 Rating: Mature
🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)
🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
-Let me know if I missed anything-
🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!
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There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think. 
Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…
You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…
Him.
Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–
.
.
.
The King of Darkness himself.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| Four Days Ago || 
The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance. 
Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?” 
“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”
“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”
“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.
He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).
“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”
“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”
“Yep.”
“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”
“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”
“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.
“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.” 
“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”
“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.
“Quickly?”
“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”
Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”
You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.
“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?” 
“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”
“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.
“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”
“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”
“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).
“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.
“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.” 
“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”
“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.
You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”
He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”
“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”
“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”
“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”
“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.
“Hey.”
This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.
However…
Deep down…
.
.
.
You still wonder what he’s doing.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Punch. Punch.
.
“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.
.
Punch. Punch.
.
“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.
“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”
.
Punch. Crack. Punch.
.
“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”
.
Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.
.
“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”
.
Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.
.
“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.
“Yeah, Matty. She is.”
.
Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.
.
“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.
“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”
He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”
“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”
.
Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–
“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.
“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.
Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”
Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”
“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”
Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?” 
“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”
“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”
“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”
“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”
“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”
Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”
“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”
“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing. 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.
You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.
I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.
Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.
I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.
“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–
‘Sorry.’
You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?
You scoffed out loud.
Hell…
Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.
“Morning, Mr. Murdock.” 
“Morning, Anthony.” 
“Taxi’s here like you requested.” 
“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”
“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile. 
His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.
“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”
A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—
The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.
“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing. 
He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”
“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”
And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.
Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was. 
A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.
“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”
“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”
“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”
Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…
The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.
“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).
“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”
“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”
He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”
You smiled. “Sounds good to me.” 
He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.
God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.
“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”
He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”
“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good. 
“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”
“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship. 
Where have I–
“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.
You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.” 
That catches him off guard. “What?”
“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”
Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”
“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”
“Y/N, you don’t have to.”
“I want to. Where is it?”
“Y/N–”
“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”
Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”
“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”
“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.
“But it’s deep. I really should.”
“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.” 
You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.
“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”
“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”
“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”
“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”
He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”
“In public.”
“Oh, well—”
“See? You’ll hate it.”
“No, not necessarily.”
You pause. “Huh?”
“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”
“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”
His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”
“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”
“Only with the people I really admire.”
“Oh, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you. 
You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”
“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–
Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.
You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.
“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.
You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”
“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.” 
“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).
Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”
Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”
“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.
“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”
“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”
“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”
“My treat.”
“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”
“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”
The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”
“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”
Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”
“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”
“Understood.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was. 
“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”
“Figures.”
Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.
“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”
“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”
You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–
“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”
You froze, breath caught in your throat.
Wait, what? 
“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”
“That sounds about right.”
“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”
“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”
“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”
“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”
“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”
“I believe it.”
You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…
You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–
.
.
.
Why were you still alive?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.
“Matty?” You said, taken back.
“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”
You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. “Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.
“You smell good, by the way.” 
You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”
“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”
“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”
“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”
“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”
“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).
“I did?” 
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.
Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?
“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,
“Your hand okay?” 
“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar. 
“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.
“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.
What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.
“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”
“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you. 
He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”
“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”
“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”
You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again. 
“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”
“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”
You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”
“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”
Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight? 
You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.
“Listen… Y/N, I–”
The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.
“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.
“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).
“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)
“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”
Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.
[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]
The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.
“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.
“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).
“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.
You blink in surprise. “What?” 
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”
“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”
“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”
Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”
“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.
“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”
“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”
Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.
“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.
“Yes, I am.”
“Is he doing better?”
“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”
“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”
The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.
“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.” 
“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside. 
“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”
“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”
“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.
You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…
That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight? 
What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).
“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.
“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”
“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”
Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.
“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”
“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.
“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”
Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground. 
“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.
They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.
Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)
He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…
Then slams it hard.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over again.
As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off. 
Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.
“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.
Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.
“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”
“Which cards, if I may ask?” 
“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”
.
.
.
“We blame it on Daredevil.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”
And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but… 
“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.
If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different. 
Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.
But why an innocent kid of all things? 
“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.
“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.
“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”
“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”
“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.
His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.
“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”
“I know, but–”
“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”
“Frank–”
“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”
“Frank–”
“Please.”
And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug. 
You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.
You haven’t grown one bit since then.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Fancy seeing you here.” 
You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”
“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”
I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”
“Is it because of that missing kid?”
“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”
“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”
You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”
He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.” 
“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”
Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”
“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”
“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”
“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”
“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”
You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…
You were going to be pissed off anyway.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”
The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”
“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.
“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)
Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”
“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”
He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”
But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”
“What?”
“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”
He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)
This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”
“Know what?”
“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice. 
The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)
“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)
“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.
“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”
“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)
Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.
“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”
“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…
“Ты хочешь остановить Сорвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)
As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.
“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)
The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.
“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)
Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.
“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.
“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”
“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”
“Calls?”
“Texts mostly.”
“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.
“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.
“Is it important?”
“Might be.”
“Might be?”
“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”
“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.
“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”
A brief pause. “No.”
“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”
And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”
“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”
“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”
“Right.” 
He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”
She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”
“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”
With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.
*Beep*
[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]
*Beep*
You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.
These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…
It really hurts.
This task… hits… close to home.
You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there. 
.
It was stupid mistake. 
You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own. 
You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–
You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…
No.
No you can’t.
As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.
Not on your fucking watch. However–
He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.
Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–
.
“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.
.
.
.
Tonight was going to be a long night for you.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:
[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]
He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.
Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.
Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.
[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]
He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.
[ Feel better. ]
He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
But of course… why would you?
After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.
The warehouse district.
You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest  of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.
Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.
You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.
Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.
You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–
You heard something rattle and roll behind you.
You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.
.
.
.
.
When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.
 A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.
You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.
Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.
He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.
“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.
But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac. 
Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–
Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.
His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…
Messing with your fucking head.
You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach. 
How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.
As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail. 
Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.
You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.
“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole). 
“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.
Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.
“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”
“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”
Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”
“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”
Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”
“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”
His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”
Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”
“One of them?” 
“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”
Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”
“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”
And those words were his signature for his own death. 
The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.
Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.
“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).
“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”
Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”
“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”
The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)
“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”
Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”
“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”
Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar. 
“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.
“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).
Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”
“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”
And that’s when your whole world collapsed.
No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.
No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole. 
But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.
“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way. 
Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.
There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–
Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.
His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”
“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.” 
“I know.”
“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”
“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”
What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–
Wait…
Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.
So does that make Matt… an assassin? 
“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.
“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.
“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.” 
“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”
“Mr. Murdock–”
Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again. 
.
.
.
And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.
Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–
Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.
Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,
“Kill the rest.” 
And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.
You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…
.
.
.
There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.
.
“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.
“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”
.
The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.
.
“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”
“Special? In what way?
.
You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.
.
“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?” 
“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”
“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?” 
.
Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.
The vase of roses.
With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.
.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.” 
You blink in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”
“How come?”
.
Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.
.
“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”
You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”
He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”
You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”
.
Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word. 
The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.
A perfect–
Perfect–
Match.
.
You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”
He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”
“Superpowered or not.”
“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”
“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”
.
You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.
You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just…
.
.
.
.
Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.
(TBC)
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-Taglist Is Open-
@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene
@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666
@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness
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skyfallslayer · 4 months
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The Black & White Lie || Masterlist
-Modern Day!Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader-
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Main Masterlist
🦋Summary: Country girl Y/N Wheeler has spent most of her life on a farm in Hawkins, Indiana, and, when she goes away to college in Los Angeles, she immediately feels out of place in the daunting urban setting. She is befriended by a savvy party animal named Eddie Munson, who convinces the ambivalent girl to stay in the city. When Thanksgiving break rolls around, Y/N, no longer an innocent farm girl, invites Eddie back to Hawkins, where he pretends to be her fiancé.
🦋Pairings: Slow burn! Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader; (Past) Jason Carver x Reader; Platonic! Jonathan Byers x Reader; Jonathan x Nancy
🦋Rating: Teen-Mature
🦋Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter (will contain 18+ content later on).
🦋Word Count: 3,248 (As of now)
🦋Start Date: 2/18/24
🦋 End Date: N/A
🦋 A/N: If you recognized the summary, this is actually inspired by the movie 'Son-In-Law'. When I watched for the first time the other day, for some reason the love interest reminded me of Eddie a lot and- *Ding*Ding*! Lightbulb moment! And then before you know it, every idea came flooding in and then this was born. Hopefully it turns out like it did in my head. Lol. Enjoy!
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|| INDEX ||
Chapter 1: The Graduation
Chapter 2: The Discomfort (Coming Soon)
Chapter 3: The Change (Coming Soon)
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skyfallslayer · 9 months
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The Darkness In Me || Story 1: The (Wo)Man Without Fear
-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?
🖤 Story Summary: After all these years away, you’re finally relocated back to Hell’s Kitchen, the place where you were born, a place filled with happy memories. However, the city is not what you remembered, and when your job as a detective is not enough to save it, you might have to become something more.
🖤 Date: 8/8/23
🖤 Rating: Mature
🖤 Word Count: 5,162 (Consider this an introduction)
🖤 Warning: Blood; Alcohol Consumption; Small Reference to Past Abuse; Small Reference to PTSD; Domestic Abuse (not towards Reader!); Heavy Language; Mental Breaking Point; Brief Talk of Death/Dying. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
🖤 A/N: Matt's unfortunately not in this first story, but he is mentioned repeatedly! This first story's kind of introduction to what the reader is and how HK brings the darkness out in everyone. I will say this though, pay attention to some detail because I will be doing some call backs to them throughout the series 'cause they'll be handy. I promise! Also, the reader in this story does have special abilities that you'll have to try to piece together (because I'm evil like that. Lol). Other than that, Enjoy! And let me know if I miss any kind of warnings :)
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You had down your third beer in one sitting before slamming it on the counter and heavily sighing. Your coworker, or should you say ex-coworker, watched you bittersweetly for the stool next to you.
“Take it easy, L/N. I don’t want to have to drag you back home.” Max, who was also your partner in the force, said in his usual kind voice.
“What home?” You reply, waving to the bartender for another beer. “I don’t have a home anymore here, remember?”
“It’s just a figure of speech.” He frowns, worriedly. “You really that upset about moving?”
“Well, fuck yes!” You pound your fist into the counter. “I screwed up on the tiniest thing ever and I’m relocated!” You grabbed the beer that was placed in front of you. “Relocated on the other side of the country.”
This unfortunately was true; You had accidently messed something up during an important case, something that was deemed extremely small compared to everything else and your police chief still punished you. You sigh again, taking a long swig.
“Hey, at least it wasn’t like you were demoted.” Max pointed out on the bright side. “Maybe this is a good thing. Didn’t you tell me once you used to live in New York?”
You nod, slowly, painfully. “Born and pretty much raised there until eight because of my parents passing.” You’re frowned with a hint of bitterness. “Then I moved out here with my good for nothing Aunt.”
Such a pain in the ass. You cursed and took another swig.
His concern deepens. “Okay, maybe stop with the beer.”
You roll your (Y/E/C) eyes. “Ah, I’ll burn it off. Alcohol doesn’t work on me.”
“Alcohol works on everyone.”
“Yeah, but not me.” Your metabolism was too fast to get a buzz. You sigh one last time, before putting a smile on your face. “Alright. Come on, partner–” You pat him on the back. “Let’s have a little fun. It’s my last night here.”
Max seemed hesitant at first before coping your expression. He chuckles and raises his glass. “Alrighty, then. To partners in crime.”
“To partners in crime.” You repeat and clink your beverages together. And before you know it…
You’re dragging him back to his house, apologizing to his wife for his drunkenness.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The sound of the key unlocking the front door was all you were focused on until it swooped open. You stare inside as your new landlord sidesteps to give you a better view.
“Here she is.” He said as you walked in, looking around. The place was small, you expected nothing less than a New York apartment; It consisted with a decent size kitchen, living/dining area, and a bedroom with a full size bathroom. There were a few cosmetic things that could be fixed down the road but it didn’t look too bad.
“Is everything to your liking, Miss?” He asked, with a nervous tone as you nodded.
“Yeah, everything looks fine.” You reply with a small smile. You were glad that you didn’t pack too much. “Uh, Mr. Gale–” You look at him. “The moving truck should be here tomorrow. Do I… need to do anything special? Like letting you know, or…”
He shook his head. “No. As long as you know them, I don’t really care who comes in and out of here. I just need you to pay your rent on time.”
You chuckle lightly. “Will do.”
He hums and starts to leave; but not before handing over the key. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” 
“Thank you.” 
Once he leaves you set your purse down on the kitchen counter, and roll your suitcase into the bedroom before taking a deeper look around. Everything seemed to be clean and intact. 
Good. The last thing I need is my new home to be falling apart. You stopped to gaze out your living area window, one that gazes upon the main road and other apartments nearby. 
This kind of reminds me of my old apartment. The only place you and your parents lived in before they passed. Not in the safest of areas (not like Hell’s Kitchen had many places like that), but you still called it home. But you’ll admit that the level above yours was much nicer that made you a bit green. But that color would fade every time you met up with him. The boy just a year older (and a bit taller) than you. 
Your friend. 
Your best friend you considered once. 
Your eyes fell to the sidewalk below, nostalgia running deep.
.
.
“Come On, Y/N! I’ll race you to the bodega.” He would tease and break off into a run, laughing like the child he was.
You would always puff out your chest in annoyance, but ended up always flustered by him. “Murdock, you dummy! I’ll get you for that!!”
And sometimes you would. Sometimes you wouldn’t. Sometimes you let him win because it made your heart flutter with joy.
.
.
You smiled bittersweetly at the memory, before feeling your soul completely ache. Your friend, he never… he never…
He never wrote me back. And that was the depressing truth. 
When you had to up and leave to live with your aunt, you and him would stay in touch by being each others’ pen pals. You guys would write pretty much every week, and if your aunt allowed it, you would give each other a call. But then one day… it all stopped. No more letters or phone calls. Just complete silence. It was like he just suddenly disappeared without a trace. It was…
Bizarre.
I wonder what ever happen to him? A part of you wants to know but then another part of you wonders…
.
.
.
Is it worth opening Pandora’s box?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The following day you find yourself catching your new badge as  it was flung in your direction, as the officer who’s being your “tour guide” walks sluggishly in front of you.
He waves his hand nonchalantly at you as he starts to speak. “We’ll get you fitted with a new gun later on, Miss…?” 
You tried not to eye roll as you repeated your name once again. “L/N.”
“L/N. Right.” He claps his hands together. “Okay. Uh, well… I don’t know what it was like in San Francisco for you, but I doubt it’s like anything you’re ever going to deal with here.”
You tilt your head, confused. “What do you mean?” You asked, and you followed him through a crowd of busy people in blue and business suits (who gave zero shits about trying to move out of the way as you passed). 
Seriously, we can’t just sit down and talk for a min–
He sighs loudly. “Listen, kid–”
“Kid? Where about the same–”
“New York, especially Hell’s Kitchen, is a whole other ballgame. There’s even a rumor that crime was born here, which I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true.”
You found yourself frowning, putting your annoyance on pause (or at least pausing to feel him/the place out). “That bad, huh?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “So whatever you do, watch your back, because even with a partner, you’re on your own.” He explained, as he entered the office area. “Speaking of which… Hey, Grimm!” 
A young looking lad looks up from his paperwork. “Yeah?”
“The new detective’s here.” He jerks his thumb in your direction. “Is Castle in at all?” 
Grimm scoffs. “When is Castle ever in?” He looks away. “Haven’t seen him since Tuesday.”
And… it’s Thursday. You thought, already getting a sour taste in your mouth.
“Let me guess–” You cross your arms and speak the truth you see in front of you. “He’s my new partner?”
“Captain Frank Castle. Ex-Marine turned Cop. He’s–”
“He’s a loose cannon.” Grimm shouts back, getting a dirty look.
“Officer Grimm!”
“What?” The young lad shrugs. “It’s true.”
Your frown deepens, the irritation you’ve been showing on and off your face all morning is starting to give you wrinkles. “So… a loose cannon?” You said, truly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 
He sighs. “He is, but he knows his shit. You’ll learn a lot from him… when he actually shows up.” He mumbled the last part as he started walking again. He soon starts pointing around as he speaks. “You’re desk’s over here, use it as you please. Castle’s is across from you. Our murder board is over there for all our ‘bigger’ crimes, and next to it is our most wanted.”
You stopped in front of the board, curiosity peaked. Your eyes scanned to the first one. “Who’s Quentin Beck?” You asked, never hearing that name before.
“Quentin Beck, used to be a normal guy who owned a carnival in the park. Everything seemed fine until we got reports of people complaining about some… strange things happening. Turns out, on his main attraction, he was using drugs that induce peoples’ fears for them to stay longer. Or… forcibly making them stay longer.”
You nearly got a chill from listening to that. “Freaky. What happened to him? You obviously didn’t catch him.”
“Disappeared when we went in for an arrest. But we didn’t get any reports that he’s left the city or this country. So, who knows if he’s even still here.” A sarcastic smug tugged on his lips. “But hey, you’re a detective, maybe you’ll bring him in.”
You tried to hold your tongue, as you narrowed your eyes. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, Officer?”
He seemed to not like your tone as you could see his jaw clenches. “Armory’s towards the back. Help yourself.” He said with a bit of a bite, and then left.
Asshole. You wiped your expression clean as you looked back at the board. So many names and so many faces to memorize. Yet, There were some… questionable people the police were supposed to take down. 
Sure there were some scary looking ones like Sergi Kravinoff, or Adrian Toomes. Then there were others that didn’t quite look menacing, like Jefferson Davis, or someone they just dubbed “Black Cat”.
Black cat? You must have had a puzzled look on your face because Officer Grimm suddenly appeared next to you to answer all your questions.
“She may not look like much, but she’s a master thief. She’s stolen a lot of goods around the whole city.” He explains, holding out an extra cup of coffee. “Goods that are damn near irreplaceable.”
“Thanks.” You said, taking a sip of the lukewarm beverage. “So she’s hard to catch?”
“Extremely. She always slips through our fingers somehow.”
“Well that sucks.” Your eyes studied the bored again, thinking. “This city has a lot more crime than I remember.” Or maybe you just didn’t see it because you were so young, which was a strong possibility. I mean you were only eight when you were forced to live somewhere else.
The next thing you said you only could wish it fell on death’s ears as you chuckle, jokingly. “There’s so much crime here, I’m starting to think there’s a kingpin running the show–”
Grimm’s hand suddenly latched onto your wrist, pulling you to his level. “Do not say his name.” He hissed, scared as his eyes were blown wide.
Out of surprise, yours did too. “W-What?”
“Do not say his name. Do not question him.”
“Q-Question who? I was just joking.” 
It was just a joke. Why does he look so terrified? You wondered as he seems to be recollecting himself, but he shows no signs of letting you go just yet.
You look between your wrist and his eyes, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice. “Officer Grimm, do you think you could–”
“Listen, Detective.” He whispers, harshly. “In this city, we do things differently. And if you want any fucking chance at surviving, I suggest you follow the program. Do as you’re told, and don’t ever speak his name again. You hear me?”
You find yourself nodding out of fear, which seemed good enough for him as he finally lets go of you and walks away. You hold your bruised wrist close to you as you look away from his direction.
What in the hell– You look at the board again, looking at it in a new light.
.
.
.
What in the hell was that all about?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The rest of the work day you felt like if you didn’t tread water, you were going to drown. You had to watch what you say, what you did. You felt like if you did something wrong you’d get a dagger in your back or a bag over your head. You felt like you were a step away from the guillotine. 
It made you nauseous to think about it, just enough to chew on your fingernails the whole cab ride home.
This is a fucking police department. I shouldn’t feel unsafe. 
Never in your almost nine year career had you felt unsafe in your own job (and you worked in one of the most crime ridden cities out there). Now it was almost scary to even breathe without the thought of getting another scare from Officer Grimm. 
Jesus. How the fuck am I going to even do this? You let out a sigh as you fiddled with your keys. 
And what was he so afraid of? Who was he afraid of? Or was he just… overreacting? You can only hope he was as you finally reached the top of the stairs and started heading down the hallway towards your apartment; But that’s when you heard it (or really anyone should have heard it).
A harsh slap to the face and someone yelping in surprise. 
You faltered your movements almost straight away to listen, and you noticed someone’s cries -a woman’s- and a man speaking in harsh whispers in the apartment you stopped next to. You heard some… interesting threats that set off your “detective senses”. Putting on an emotionless mask and tucking away your keys, you marched to the door and knocked loudly like you were on a house call. You immediately heard everything grow quiet inside before someone was stomping towards the door, throwing it open like they were being bothered. 
“What the fuck do you want?” The man, you say mid-30s, snapped at you with cold eyes.
Really cold eyes. They kind of remind you of…
“Thought I’d stop by and say ‘Hi’. I’m your new neighbour down the hall.” You reply, staring him dead in the face (and tucked away the creeping memory that was starting to flash before you).
He scoffs. “And?”
Without even blinking you flash your badge towards him, watching the color drain from his face. “I work with one of the HK police departments. I was coming back home when I heard something alarming. Thought I’d make sure everything was okay.” You explain, as he swallows and your eyes trail past his shoulders to a woman whose face was lingering with bruises of every color in the rainbow. “Is she okay?”
“Her?” He laughs nervously. “She’s fine. My wife’s a klutz. She was cleaning out our closet when a couple things came flying off the shelf. You know how that is. Right?”
His lie made you mentally raise an eyebrow.
Seriously, that’s the best you could come up with? You almost laughed in his face, but you had to stay professional (bit seriously, he couldn’t give you the overused excuse that she was hit by a door?).
You looked back at the wife, replying, “Is that all true, Ma’am?” You hoped that she could see that you wanted to help, that you could help. You hoped she could see the worriedness and empathy you had in your orbs. The tiny shine that gave off the word ‘beg’. 
Just say yes. Just say yes I can arrest his fucking–
She shook her head too quickly. “Y-yes. I-It’s all true. I need to be more careful.” She said, and tried to smile reassuringly (it looked so painful to even do so).
“See? She’s fine.” The husband said, all smug once more. “Thank you for your concern, but everything seems good here.”
He slams the door in your face, and he acts like you weren’t even there because he started the same shenanigans again. You find yourself clenching your fists in a way your fingernails dug into your skin (Those familiar crescent moons will surely appear tomorrow).
You clenched your own jaw, gritting your teeth and your veins grew hot. 
I can do it. You felt your blood boil/bubble, and your fingertips getting coated in a red dust; Your eyes starting to turn the same shade of cherry.
I’ve got the abilities. I’ve got the strength to break down this door. I can just… But you let yourself trail off as realization sets in.
You can’t. 
You can’t be the hero in this.
You can’t risk exposing yourself again.
You can’t be the thing that you were born as.
And you fucking hated that. 
You take a deep breath, the ones that are long and you feel the chill in your lungs. Your blood settled, the haze disappearing, the light disappearing from your pupils. When you felt and looked normal, you fished out your keys again as you forced yourself to turn a blind eye on that monster’s home.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
After checking out a café near your place, you immediately dove into your work. Since your partner seemed absent again, and nobody else seemed to want to give you any pointers, you were forced to do things on your own, to find things to keep you preoccupied for your shift. Deciding it would be the best to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings (Since you’ve been gone for… what? Twenty years now?). You start flipping through some folders that were “hot spots” for crime. After a couple, one of them caught your eye.
An old abandoned carnival called: The Cursed Carnival of Mysterio. And who was the owner? Well that was–
Quinten Beck? You pinch your brows together in confusion. This was… interesting. 
Quinten Beck, age unknown, is still residing on the property but hasn’t been seen since– What? Now you’re even more confused. Didn’t the officer yesterday tell you something completely different? Didn’t he say that Beck hasn’t been seen in years?
You shake your head and keep reading.
Hasn’t been seen since last month with his usual meeting with Dr. Curt Connors, talking over their deal with hallucination drugs– What the fuck? Now this really wasn’t making any sense. Why would someone write this down about a criminal and not do anything? 
Shouldn’t someone have stopped this guy already if they know he’s still here? And who is Dr. Connors? You bite your thumb as you thought all of this over, trying to see if you could make any sense over this. But everything you came up with fell short. It just didn’t make any fucking sense.
Maybe… Dr. Connors is like an undercover agent? Maybe they’re waiting on getting some intel before going after Beck? That seemed like a possibility (And one you were secretly wishing was true).
I’ve got to see who this guy is. You swerve your chair to the right to get closer to your monitor, quickly loading the database. However, just as you type in his name and click enter, your screen went completely black; and you could see why. In the corner of your eye, you saw one of your coworkers had unplugged the computer like it was nothing.
You cocked your head in their direction, disbelief resting on your features.
What in the actual fu–
“It’s probably for the best if you don’t look him up.” Grimm’s voice broke through as he was suddenly standing beside you. He had the most innocent look on his face, almost like he didn’t realize what just occurred. He gives you a reassuring gaze and replies, “Dr. Connors is… nobody to worry about.”
The façade you so desperately always keep on while on the job suddenly chipped away, your anger (and a sense of betrayal) started to seep in very clearly. 
That was your cross to bear. Your hotheadedness was something you always had to keep in check, which you always managed to do. But on some occasions it would slip out without even noticing.
Kind of like right now.
You were a snake that had set its eyes on its prey.
You stand up slowly, menacingly, as you lock eyes with him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, low and cold that made his face twitch as soon as you spoke.
“W-Wh-What?” Grimm slurred, thrown off by your sudden mood change.
“I said, what’s that supposed to mean? Why shouldn’t I worry about Dr. Connors? If there really isn’t nothing, then why the fuck did my colleague over here just unplug my computer? Couldn’t you have come up to me and said something instead?” You seemed to have backed him in a corner as he paled under your intense gaze.
“W-Well… y-you seem pretty headstrong with your job, I’m sure you would have kept looking despite what we say.” He replies which was the dumbest fucking excuse you’ve ever heard (Seriously, what’s with these damn excuse all of a sudden?). 
You felt your blood starting to spike like yesterday, but you had enough control to keep your energy in check, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the venom that was trickling off your tongue into your words.
“And so what if I kept looking? Huh?” You jerk your thumb towards yourself. “I’m a detective. Even if they seem innocent it’s my job to look at even the tiniest of details until I rule them out as innocent.” Your voice starts to grow louder, turning a few heads but you didn’t care. “So what’s so wrong about me looking into this guy?”
It took his silence and a look of fear on his face to finally put the pieces together. Your state of incertitude last night had suddenly cleared like a crystal.
“Oh… I see now.” You said, a laugh was on the end of your tongue as you looked at him in bewilderment/surprise. “Let me make a guess–” You raised an eyebrow. “Am I not following ‘the program’ you spoke of?”
The whole room immediately froze and stared at you like a circus freak. Grimm paled some more as you scoffed at their reaction.
“Really?” You said, in disbelief. “You’re all taking orders from an outside source? Someone who isn’t our Commander?” Another scoff. “Oh, and let me fucking guess who that could be! Is it that Kingpin guy I was joking about yesterday?”
“Lieutenant, don’t say his name.” Grimm said, worriedly shaking his head.
“Or what? If I say it three times does he just fucking appear out of thin air? Why the fuck do we have someone using us and criminals as fucking puppets? Explain how that happened?!”
He waves his hands in defense. “Okay, okay! We will! But–” He swallows. “You’ve got to calm down first. Then once you accept the rules to the program, you can–”
“I’m not accepting whatever rules there are.” You snapped, shaking your own hand. “I’m not going to have someone other than my superior tell me what I’m supposed to do.”
“Lieutenant, if you don’t follow the rules there will be consequences. You could lose your own life, you could–”
“I’m a cop. The possibility of losing my life comes with it.”
“B-But this is different! This guy’s not someone you should mess with!”
“Then, you–” You jab your finger into his chest before waving it around. “Or anyone in this fucking room can tell this ‘Kingpin’ that if he wants me to join his little program, he’ll have to tell me himself. Face-to-fucking-face.” 
You snagged your belongings off your desk and stormed out of the office, never looking back.
Never looked back to them shaking to their core.
Never looked back as they mumbled with terror.
Never looked back as they crawled under their desk to hide.
Never looked back…
At the fucking mess you had been placed in.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You wanted to scream. 
Or maybe you did when you decided to walk home instead of a taxi to… ‘cool your head’. In fact, all that thinking might have made your mood worse. The fact that everyone in that precinct was under some guy’s thumb said it all. How were you supposed to do your job if you couldn’t do it? Who was this guy that wasn’t even allowing anybody to catch extremely dangerous criminals?
Kingpin or not, I’m not falling under your thumb. 
You enter your apartment building, walking up the stairs to the next floor when you spot your ‘lovely’ neighbour coming down with a new pep in his step, phone up by his ear.
“-on my way – Yeah – Oh, yeah. It’ll be great.” He talks loudly, nearly plowing you over as you pass.
And when he did something…
Clicked inside you.
You pause on the steps, glancing back as your neighbour starts leaving. You frown and find yourself coming up with an idea that was either the best idea ever…
Or the most treacherous one yet.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Your neighbour and his friends laughed as they flickered their cigarettes off the rooftop, landing somewhere unknown below. It was like three men reliving their teenage years. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if your neighbour wasn’t such a shitty husband.
“Hey, man, we’re going to get more beers.” One of his friends said as they started backtracking to the door to the bar below.
“Sounds good.” Your neighbour said, lighting another bud.
The door closes, leaving him utterly alone in the dark of the night, basking in the full moon’s light. He takes a long puff from his cigarette, blowing it into the warm air, completely oblivious that you were suddenly behind him like the grim reaper.
“So this is what you do in your free time.” You said, making your voice sound deeper and lower.
He turned around quickly, finding you in head to toe black, only your eyes were exposed. He cocked his head to the side, not even showing any kind of surprise or shock. ��Who the hell are you? And how’d you get up here without me hearing?”
“I’ll give you a choice. Turn yourself in or I’ll use force.” 
He scoffs. “For what?”
“For assaulting your wife.”
His face falls before swiftly turning into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about? With what proof?” You stayed silent which got him even more riled up. “Listen, whoever the fuck you are, you need to be on your merry way.”
And as soon as his hand clasped your shoulder you took a swing, which you’ll admit… you’re out of practice; Because before you know it, he’s elbowed you in the stomach before grabbing onto the back of your hoodie, and–
Pushes you off the roof.
His eyes suddenly widened at what he just did, and took a step back from the ‘crime scene’. “Oh, my god…” He covers his mouth. “Oh, my god… I just…” He shakes his head. “No. He attacked me first. This was self defense. They’ll have to believe me, they’ll–”
And then all the color seemed to drain from his body.
You were suddenly in front of him, feet nowhere near the ledge/floor of the roof.
You stare down at him, eyes starting to glow a reddish hue.
He stumbles back on the balls of his feet, trembling under your gaze. “W-W-What a-are you?” He cried, lip quivering. “H-How are you flo–”
You leaped at him before he could finish, tackling him to the ground, straddling his waist before you let loose. The anger you kept in check came undone as you struck him with your fists over, and over, and over, and over again. You struck him until his face was covered in bruises and painted in red; And you didn’t stop until you heard the satisfying crack in his nose. 
You grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “If you ever hurt your wife again… I will fucking know.” You hissed through your teeth before knocking him out cold.
And then it was quiet.
Besides your heart was in your ears it was still quiet.
You were panting almost silent as your adrenaline started to cease.
You could feel his blood on your face through your makeshift mask.
You could feel your fingers almost aching for more.
It felt…
Strangely satisfying. 
Oddly.
Greatly.
Satisfying.
And when his friends finally arrived, you were already on the other side of the street, watching in the shadows as they frantically started calling for an ambulance. 
It shouldn’t feel good, but you did. Even as his blood coated your hands like an ointment, it didn’t feel as bad as it should. But you were a detective, a cop, you were supposed to stop the bad guys. Did it matter that you weren’t in uniform this time? Should it matter?
.
.
.
…And should you feel bad?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The sound of someone knocking on your door woke you up early the next morning. You grumbled in your state of exhaustion, wondering if someone from your job was coming to get you. 
Fuckers. Just go away. You tried turning to a new position, shutting your eyes tighter as they knocked again.
And then again.
And again.
And again.
And–
You groaned as you sat up, grabbing your bathrobe off your chair to cover your nude form. “I’m coming!” You announced, before yawning. “This better be good…” You walked up to the peephole, taken back by the fact that no one was actually there. “What?”
You take off the deadbolt and unlock the door, poking your head out into your hallway. 
Nothing. Nobody in sight.
When you were about to call yourself crazy you spotted something on your fuzzy doormat. In surprise, you found yourself staring at a beautifully decorated vase filled with brightly colored, freshly cut red roses.
“Flowers?” You said, bending down to carefully pick it up, examining it. You just wanted to make sure there wasn’t some sort of trap (you had plenty of those in your career).
They seemed normal but the number of them was odd.
Nine.
Nine means that the person who gifted them to you wants to signify eternal love and show that you want to spend the rest of your life with you.
Now that was really stumping you, especially when you spotted a card that was no help at all. On the simple, white, rectangular card was neat cursive handwriting that said:
‘Welcome Back.’
Welcome back? You look around again making absolutely sure that you didn’t miss anything or anyone. You continued to see nothing again.
You found yourself staring at the card again, wondering:
.
.
.
What the hell is going on?
(TBC)
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@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene
@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago
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skyfallslayer · 2 months
Text
Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Prologue
-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.
🎲Chapter Summary: When they interlocked their pinkies none of them ever expected the weirdness that follows the years after. None of them ever expected to start growing apart. None of them ever expected the red string to stay attached. And none of them ever expected that they would be out saving the world with a baseball bat and wings. Yeah... you can’t make this stuff up.
🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler
🎲Rating: Teen-Mature
🎲Word Count: 921 (Small Introduction)
🎲Date: 3/6/24
🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship
🎲A/N: Extremely small chapter, hence why it's just the prologue. I just wanted to show my readers what the big picture is of this story, which is the Steve x OC relationship. However, just like above, this will contained the loving sibling relationship of Dustin, and even Will, between OC. This story also contains Jopper (a personal fav), Jancy, Mileven and the slow burn of Byler (I got to give this boy some love and if you think Will has been a background character for the last few seasons like I have then don't you worry! I'm giving Will a time for him to shine throughout this fic). Anyway, don't want this paragraph to be longer than the actual chapter. Lol. Enjoy!
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Pinky Promise.
It’s a bond between two people, a vow that’s taken so it shall not be broken. Childish, you know, but to a small kid it means everything. When they locked their pinkies together, muttering their promises to one another, they both had barely turned five, barely ready to take on the world head first. 
But a promise was a promise— Yet a pinky promise was so much more. It holds so much more weight than crossing your heart or giving a handshake. 
At least it was to these two very best friends…
.
.
.
“Wow.” The blue eyed girl said, genuinely surprised (She can’t even believe their conversation is so calming in a situation like this). “That explains so much. And… you never mentioned that to me before?”
“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, with a small smile and laugh. “I think it kinda does. I think, like, right out of the gate, like, I’m super confident. But I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just…” He shrugs. “I mean, it’s a brutal combination. But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, you know? I can learn. I can crawl forward.”
She noticed his pace was slowing, and his brown eyes of his were becoming distant. “Steve?”
“Listen–” He stops them both, face looking like a lost puppy now. “I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, um… is thank you.”
She tilts her head, confused. “Thank you?” She watches him nod, adding fuel to her emotion. “For...?”
His face softens. “For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago.” He chuckles. “Nancy, you know, she gave me the push, but you, Stephanie, gave me the thump I needed. It’s changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward in a way I never thought I could achieve. Slowly.”
And now he’s frowning, looking down at himself, engulfing himself in the glum. “I just wonder sometimes... you know, if... if I had just opened my eyes before I met Nancy, would things have been different? Like… part of me thinks we would’ve made it without our relationship falling apart.”
“Steve–” She croaks, teary eyed and shocked.
“And… you know what the craziest… most messed up part of the story is?”
“What?”
His lips curled up just a bit. “Remember the dream I told you about? About the Winnebago? Seeing the country with my six lil’ nuggets? It’s all true. Every last word. But… the mess up part?” He swallows, also getting emotional. “The mess up part is when I first thought of that dream… is that… you’re there. You’ve always been there.”
“Steve–”
“And that…” He smiles. “That’s my pinky promise to you, Miss Stephanie Henderson.”
.
.
.
The creature shrieked above, its claws waving around frantically –trying to get a nick out of him– as he held it back with some piping. He watched the pupils go all ‘cat-like’, fangs coming out that he swears were growing with each scream. 
He was struggling, he knows this, and he knows he has to buy the kid some time to get a radio signal out to his girlfriend, but he was slipping, fuck it. However, he knows deep in his heart he can’t back down from this.
His jaw clenched and his eyes flash with determination. “I don’t care what you’ve become! I ain’t leaving you, Henderson!” He shouted, hoping his words would get through to her. “That’s a pinky promise.”
.
.
.
“I’m helping you and Dustin out.” He insisted, knowing damn well that she didn’t even want him near her brother, let alone near herself.
She sends him a look, skeptical, on edge. “Why?”
“Look, I know you don’t want to talk–”
“Damn, right.”
“Steph.” He says, stepping in front of her way to get her attention. “We’ll just put this on the backburner. Right now, and I mean it, I just want to help you and Dustin, keep you guys safe. Pinky Promise.”
.
.
.
“Steve–”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, while playing with his hands, nervously, worriedly. “Not until I know you’re okay.”
She frowns apologetically. “You know that might be a while.” 
“I know.”
“I have Dustin and my mom, you don’t have to stay here.”
“I know.” He breaks eye contact. “But what if I want to?”
That made her chuckle. “Well… if you want to.” She says, making them both smile. “Fine sleeping in a chair?”
He nods. “If that’s what I’ll have to do.” He replies, making her hum.
She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a pinky promise?”
“Yeah.” His expression grows. “Pinky promise.”
.
.
.
But what if you break it? The promise? What if you don’t follow through? That is the unfortunate part of this story. The promise was to stay together forever, to make their friendship last a lifetime. For them, they were two peas in a pod, polar opposites that still attached themselves to one another… until they couldn’t.
When the boy decided to become a King, the girl became a peasant. The boy was showered with love and affection, and the girl was on a quest of loneliness that became bitter.
This was a story about Steve Harrington and Stephanie Henderson.
A story, where no matter what happens, the red string still stays attached to their pinkies despite their attempts to take it off.
This was story where the two of them decided to save the world–
Their families–
Their friends–
.
.
.
And their friendship.
(TBC)
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A/N: I was so surprised when everyone was asking to be added in just a few short days. Makes me really happy :D
.
-Taglist is Open-
@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz
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skyfallslayer · 7 months
Text
The Darkness In Me || Story 2: Auld Acquaintances
-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?
🖤 Story Summary: Deciding you have no choice anymore, especially how your new partner scared you half to death, and the police in this city seemed not to care, your hundred percent committed to becoming a vigilante. But before you could do this, you run into an old childhood friend and his business partner. But unknowingly to you, he’s not the same little boy you remembered hanging out with. He’s… something else entirely.
🖤 Date: 10/08
🖤 Rating: Mature
🖤 Word Count: 7,962
🖤 Warning: Alcohol Consumption; Small Reference to Past Abuse/Child Abuse; Small Reference to PTSD; Small Reference to Past Non-Con/Rape; Heavy Language; Talks of Murder(ing); Talks of Death/Dying; Disability Talk; Nightmares. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
🖤 A/N: Let me know if I missed anything above. Any who, this is where all the fun begins! Plus, Matt's finally here! Along with a few other familiar faces. I don't have much else to say, except enjoy!
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You felt like your head was going to split with each memory. But… this was normal for you, believe or not. I guess it comes with the job. Or… did it just naturally come to you with your life?
You suppose so. Could you blame yourself for having these? Could you point fingers at yourself for causing these obstacles? You shouldn’t. It’s not like any of it was your fault, but there was no one here to tell you to not take the blame. No one to coddle you and tell you that everything will be alright.
.
You could still smell the smoke and feel the glass in your skin. Your whole world was sideways as you stared in shock and denial as the victims never moved.
“MOM! DAD!” You screamed, your lungs burning with fear as they never would be able to call back to you; To tell you that they’re okay and everything will be fine.
.
.
“No! Stop! IT HURTS!!” Your pleading sobs were on death’s ears as your Aunt continued pushing your head face down onto the table; Detest in her eyes. 
“After the stunt you pulled, there’s no way I want another mutant in this household.” She spat, letting the people she hired do their work as they started making an incision in the base of your neck.
You tried wiggling out their grasp but to no avail. “Please! It was an accident! I didn’t mean to!!”
.
.
You felt his hand touch your thigh after he kicked you in the dirt; His companions howling with laughter in the background. Like this situation you were brought into was the highlight of their week.
“Awe, baby girl. You’ve got to know your place or you ain’t going to be moving up.” One cooed, cupping your face with his hands, giving you enough view of the stars on his uniform. Certainly more than you have right now. 
You tried to crawl back, but the two other people present had blocked you from behind, busting a gut again. The other man’s hands were back on your face again, and he was chuckling too.
“Awe. Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just a little taste is all I need.” He slimed before smacking his lips over yours, ruining you.
.
.
It was stupid mistake.
You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own. 
You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–
You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks, but…
No.
No. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head.  
Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream.
.
.
“Pl-Please. Y-You have to let me go. I-I have to…” You croaked as your veins felt hot and bubbly, your mind started to buzz, and your eyes started to lose their natural color.
You kept begging and pleading but they wouldn’t listen. You know their criminals, and you know they deserve any kind of punishment but…
You don’t want a repeat of what happened in your childhood. You actually want to avoid hurting anyone again with your abilities, you–
But they started grabbing you and beating you, they started pulling at your limbs and clothes, spewing slurs and hate ‘cause you were the one with the shiny gold badge, you were the one that was supposed to bring them in. And they weren’t having it.
You continued to try to reason with them, feeling the buzzing getting louder and louder, and your fingertips started to glow red and–
They pulled you one last time, which was enough for everything to go haywire, which was enough for you scream an apology and you realize you were–
.
“NOOOO!!” You gasp awake, your hands frantically attacking the air. It took you always a couple seconds to realize where you were and that everything was just a dream a nightmare. Your adrenaline died down with your heart beat, your shaky breaths were cooling too. 
“A dream…” You pants, and lick your chapped lips. “Always a dream…”
Subconsciously, you touched the back of your neck feeling the scar. You were surprised you could still feel how prominent it is after all these years. Especially since maybe you deserved it being there.
You sighed with your eyes closing, taking a deep breath before deciding to look at the clock; Unfortunately realizing it was time to go to work.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You finished getting ready, packing up your bag while you waited for your toast to pop. You groaned at your appearance, you took note of the dark circles under your eyes when you passed by the cheap mirror you bought for yourself, and quickly strolled to your bathroom for some concealer. You did the best you could to look somewhat normal, washing your hands afterwards, and nearly dried off your hands on the costume you wore the other night.
You paused as you remember randomly putting it on before deciding you were going to kick your neighbour’s ass for hurting his wife. A stupid hoodie with cargo pants and a bandana you didn’t even realize you had. Not to mention that you did have some old mittens on that had to be tossed when you couldn’t get the blood off them (And trust me, you’ve tried every remedy out there).
To be honest, you were debating going out there after that night. Even though it felt… good… you weren’t sure how people in the public would feel if suddenly a vigilante decided to show up out of the blue. 
You frown, and almost left it.
Almost.
A split step outside the bathroom, and you had already made your mind up. “Oh, fuck it.” You mumbled and snagged it off your hook, rolling it up and stuffing it into your bag (along with the boots you wore that night). 
You grabbed your piece of toast and were ready for whatever work throws at you today.
And not that you were ready for any of this today.
When you finally entered the police department you immediately felt everyone’s surprised stare towards you. Every. Single. Person. They were all staring at you, not even trying to hide it. However, they weren’t surprised by the fact that you finally decided to come into work several days later, but by the fact that you were actually at work. You could tell that they were surprised that you were still… well…
Alive.
I guess they really thought that this ‘Kingpin’ was going to get you.
Cowards. You were scared of nothing. You kept a straight face as you walked past everyone who was still gawking at you like a zoo animal. You somehow managed to keep your cool even when Grimm came running up next to you.
“L-Lieutenant! You’re okay!” He spewed out, looking and sounding like was actually worried (Was he?). “We were wondering if you–”
You throw up the bird and give him a cold glare. “Fuck off, Grimm.” You reply, and exited the area for the locker rooms in the back. But as you were passing by, a man next to the water fountain caught your attention.
“Lieutenant, huh?” His voice raspy and low, almost like he was giving up and fighting at the same time. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl, are you?”
You pause your movement to get a good look at him. A man, who you assumed was just a bit older than you, stood about five-eleven with dark hair with the sides shaved, and had a nasty looking scar over his right eye. You took notice of the pack of cigarettes in his hand and how wrinkled his clothes were. 
Interesting.
“That would be.” You said, keeping your guard up in case this was another asshole. You watched him as he checked you out head-to-toe before chuckling quietly.
“Huh. So that would make you my new partner.” He said, with a bit of amusement.
Now it was your turn to act surprised. “Wait… you’re Castle?”
“That’ll be me.” He shifts his stance towards you and holds his calloused hand out. “Captain Frank Castle.”
You shook it. “Detective Y/N L/N.” 
“You introduce yourself as Detective?”
“I like it that way. Gives me… a more mysterious vibe.”
He snorts, his lips quirking up into a smile. “I like you already. See, I prefer Captain. Gives me… a sense of dominance when I’m out in the field.”
You tilt your head, playing coy. “Well, I can certainly see that.”
“Hmm. Sassy. You remind me of someone I know.” His smile fades a little before standing straighter, shoving the pack of cigarettes into his pocket.
“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You reply, smirking.
“Maybe…”
“Yo! Castle!” A cop said from down the hall. “Boss wants a word with you. Now!”
Frank sighs, throwing his head back. “Ah, our bastard Commander needs a word. Fun.” He said, blowing one last puff of air before putting out the bud on the water fountain, littering. “We’ll catch up later, kid.”
Kid? You raised an eyebrow at him as he watched him walk away. The man that was officially your partner. The man that’ll have to be your mentor for a while. The man that…
.
.
.
Seemed just as messed up as you are.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You weren’t even at the station for an hour when Grimm suddenly appeared next to you, scaring the living hell out of you. “Jesus, man.” You reply, nearly spilling your coffee. “What?”
“So what did he make you do?” He asked, a mixture of worriedness and curiosity (a very odd but seemingly dangerous mix you do say so yourself).
“What?”
“What did he make you do?” He repeated, making you bat your eyes at him, puzzled. 
“Who? Our Commander? Or Castle?” You asked, because you were not following. “Frankly, I haven’t really spoke much to any of them, except–”
“No, no, not them. Him.”
“Who’s ‘him’?”
“You know… the big boss.” Grimm subtly looked around before whispering, “The Kingpin.”
You scoffed immediately. “What made you think he made me do something?” You asked, watching him get taken back by your answer.
“W-Well, you’re… alive, So I thought–”
You sigh, and start walking back towards your desk with him on your heels. “What makes you think I wasn’t alive?”
“Well, we didn’t see you for a couple days. So we thought–”
“I wasn’t feeling it. And besides, I told you, I ain’t following this… ‘program’ unless he comes face-to-face and tells me himself. I don’t want any of his goons coming and telling me to do something.”
“B-But–” Grimm speeds up so he’s slightly ahead of you. “That’s how he does business. He rarely makes an actual appearance. He–”
“Then I ain’t doing anything that’s not an order from my Commander.” You said, picking up the speed as well, hoping to get away from him and end the discussion (or at least see if he takes the hint). You start taking a sip of your drink, but unexpectedly, he knocks it out of your hands, letting it fall to the floor. You looked at him in disbelief just as he grabbed you by the shoulders.
“Lieutenant, listen to me. If you don’t accept the program, bad things are going to happen. And since, it sounds like you’re all alone in your life, there will be no blackmail, only death.” Grimm explained, and his hands started trembling at the thoughts he was thinking. “I-I could, or a-anyone here, could reach out to him; We can ask him to give you an assignment instead of accepting and waiting for an invitation. We can just–”
You threw his hands off of you, giving him the cold glare from earlier. “I’m going across the street for a new coffee. I’ll be back.” You start walking away once more. “Or maybe I should just bring a whole case of booze for myself, seeing how this day’s already turning out.”
You felt everyone’s eyes on you again as you started leaving the precinct. And of course, the little leech that had attached itself to you was still following you, even to the outside world.
He stops on top of the stairs, shouting, “You have to accept the program, L/N! It’s the only guarantee that everything will be alright here!”
You growled under your breath as you turned around. “Will you shut the fuck up already?! I ain’t accepting shit unless he tells me himself!” You watched as he shuttered, and everyone passing by looked at you like a madman. “What are you all looking at?! Do your own fucking jobs and stop worrying about mine!”
That seemed to do the trick, as they all disbanded, heading back inside to mind their own business. You groaned and closed your eyes while running a hand through your hair, just thinking. You can’t believe this shit was still going on. I mean, you should have expected it, but you were holding onto a slimmer of hope that everything was going to be a-okay.
Jesus, Why can’t they leave me–
“You changed your name.” A voice creeped up from behind you, feeling the air get knocked out of you. Trying to not look so startled as your head whips around, looking down the stairs. That voice sounded… what exactly?
You were met with, in your opinion, a very handsome looking man, probably around your age; Nicely combed chestnut colored hair with a pair of red shades, complementing the slick black, neatly pressed suit he had on. He looked like a man ready for business.
Even though he was kind of captivating to look at, you just continued to stare as your brain processed everything that he just said. 
And It did take you a minute to finally understand why he sounded familiar, a memory buried just beneath the surface of your delegate mind.
You blinked, slowly putting it together, finally stringing the courage to say–
“...Matthew… Matthew Murdock?” You asked, still unsure. 
He chuckles softly, flashing those pearly whites. “That would be me.”
Your eyes widened with shock as you took a step down towards him. “Oh my… oh my god. I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d see you again. Your–” You trail off when you finally notice the cane he was holding. Though, it was not just any regular cane that anyone could have. 
Cane and shades. Oh my god, he’s–
He strangely sensed what you were looking at, and gave you a bittersweet look. “I know I look different since the last time we’ve seen each other.” 
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, I-I didn’t mean–”
“No, no. I know. I get it. Um…” He shifts his weight around, copying with your own feelings. “Are you… free to get some coffee?”
“Coffee? Um…” You shake your head when you even give your job another thought, and smile. “Sure. I’d love to.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“So…” You were trying to figure out how to start this conversation as you both leave the cafe, drinks in hand. “How… How’ve you been? Since it’s been, um…”
“So…” You were trying to figure out how to start this conversation as you both leave the cafe, drinks in hand. “How… How’ve you been? Since it’s been, um…”
Wait. How long has it been? You thought, racking your brain which he seemed to have read.
“Twenty years? Give or take.” He said, with a small smile.
You gasp under your breath. “Jesus, it’s really been that long?”
“It sure has.” He said, a sadness in his undertone. “Um… I’ve been good. I can’t complain.”
You smile softly. “Well, that’s good to hear, Matt–” You shake your head again. “Uh, Matthew. Not, Matt, I uh–”
He chuckles. “You can call me Matt, Y/N. No need to be formal.”
“I can?” You asked, and he nodded. You sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just… trying to get used to this feeling again. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I get it.” He grins just like you remember from your childhood. “When you do get used to it, should I… call you ‘Peaches’ again?”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” You teased immediately, and pointed. “That name’s embarrassing.” 
“Why? I think it’s adorable.”
“Not in the way I got it!”
“So you confused it for another fruit, I think it should still hold up.”
“I was four! You big tease.” You both had arrived at a crosswalk, and subconsciously you grabbed onto his arm for him to stop. You quickly realized what you did, completely embarrassed.
Way to make it awkward, Y/N!! 
“Shit, sorry! I-I shouldn’t have grabbed onto you like that!” You said, as you try to iron out the wrinkle on his sleeve you made.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m used to people grabbing me like that.” He says, truthfully. “My friend Foggy helps string me along all the time.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry… Foggy? Please tell me that’s–”
He holds his hand up. “It’s a nickname. He’s my old college roommate who snores like a foghorn.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was about to say. Who names their kid that?”
He laughs. “Foggy probably would.”
“What’s his real name?”
“Franklin. Nelson.” Matt says as they start crossing the street.
“Franklin ‘Foggy’ Nelson.” You tilt your head at him. “So an old roommate?”
“Roommate, friend, and partner. We’re attorneys.” He clears up after feeling your confused stare on him. “We started our own law firm.”
You looked at him in awe. “Really? You’re a lawyer?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. Just like your Mother.” You missed how his face fell as you thought of the beautiful brunette woman, always dressed like a goddess in your young eyes (She also made the best pie you’ve ever eaten). You smile at the memory, as the two of you get to the other side. “How is Maggie, by the way?”
“She’s…” You could feel how tense the air had become. “Passed away.”
You nearly stopped in your tracks, the wind getting knocked out of you. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You sigh. “Jeez, I am really fucking up today, aren’t I?”
“You didn’t know though.” He points out as you shake your head.
“I know, I know, but still.” 
Times like this I wish I had telepathy as a power. 
You took a moment to process this before deciding to carefully test the waters. “Do you mind me… asking how it happened?”
“Not at all.” He replies, sadly. “Uh, car accident. Same one that blinded me.”
“Jesus. I’m so sorry, Matt.”
“It’s okay. She had a good life. I can dwell too much on what happened.” He stops and points with his stick. “Uh, here it is.”
You look up at the office building, a few signs lingering in the front to show what’s there. Of course your eyes beeline to the one you were looking for. “Nelson and Murdock: Attorneys at Law.” You read aloud, not hiding your smile. “Not bad, Mr. Attorney.”
“Please, Attorney’s fine.” He joked, sensing your happiness.
“Wow.” You look back at it and then back at him again, wondering, “Can I see?”
He seems taken back by it, but happily obliges. “Uh, of course.” He gestures to the door. “Head up the stairs, second on the left.”
You curiously head inside as he follows you, letting you lead until he has to unlock the door. Once you are inside, color yourself impressed by it. Now, it’s not the fanciest law office you’ve ever seen or been in, but it was definitely something you could rant about.
You whistle slowly, nodding in excitement. “Whoa. Sweet place.” You said, spinning back around to him.
“I don’t think it’s that luxurious.” Matt said, letting you walk around.
“Why not? I mean, sure, it’s small, but not a lot of people who start their own business would get something like this. It’s amazing.” 
He quirks a smile. “I guess. Still could’ve got something better.”
“And how would you do that?” You raise an eyebrow with a teasing look. “You won the lottery and haven’t told Foggy yet?”
“Something like that…” He shifts his weight over, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.” You reply, tossing your empty cup away, listening.
“Why did you change your name?”
You paused. “Hmm?”
“What’s with L/N?” He asked, confused. “What happened to Maximoff?”
Your heart sank. You didn’t expect him to realize so soon. “Uh…”
Suddenly the door opens to a bubbly blond man. “Matt, you’re here. We have a client who’s urgently coming over here– or is that her?” He looks puzzled, holding his head. “I swear it was a man on the phone…”
“Oh, I’m not a client.” You said, shaking your head. 
“Foggy, this is Y/N. I ran into her this morning.” Matt replies, gesturing towards you with his walking stick.
“Y/N?” His hazel eyes widened. “Wait, like… Y/N? As in your childhood friend?” Foggy asked, with a grin.
“You… talked about me?” You said, looking over at Matt who seemed almost embarrassed by that.
“Oh, Matty here wouldn’t shut up about you.” Foggy steps closer holding out his hand that you take. “Foggy Nelson.”
“Y/N L/N.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. So what brings you here? I remember Matt saying something like, ‘you moved many years ago’.”
“Yeah, actually. Why are you back here?” Matt asked, curiously. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’re not here on a vacation.”
“Uh…” You cleared your throat, nervously. “You would be correct. I… I was on a job, I’m a detective, and I kind of… messed a very tiny thing up that my superior lost his shit on; Instead of demoting me, my punishment was to relocate back here.”
Foggy whistles slowly. “Damn. What did you do?”
“I’m… still not hundred percent sure about that myself.” You shrugged. “I still think it wasn’t a big deal.”
A laugh. “Well, Thank you for being honest, Miss L/N.”
“Please, Y/N’s fine, Mr. Nelson.”
“And please call me, Foggy. Mr. Nelson was my father.”
You snort, and lightly elbow Matt in the arm. “Oh, I like him. I can see why you attached yourself to him.”
“Are you kidding?” Foggy scoffed playfully. “I’m the one who attached myself to him.”
Matt grins, following along. “Well, I can’t exactly see what got attached to me.” 
“Oh, you’ve got blind jokes now, too?” You asked, not surprised. 
“Of course, what else would I do?”
“Was he a smartass like this when you were kids?” Foggy asked, making you nod eagerly. 
“Oh, yeah. You have no idea.” You reply, honestly. You remember Matt always being a bit of smart ass, even at a young age. A quick look at your watch told you it was time. “I know you have a client coming, so I should probably take my leave.”
“You sure?” Foggy asked, sounding disappointed. “You could pretend to be our secretary.”
You laugh. “I would love to play pretend, but I’m technically still on the clock. So…”
“Awe. I just met you and I want you to stay.”
“It’s not like she’s disappearing again, Foggy.” Matt says, before shifting in your direction. “Right?”
“I promise I won’t disappear again.” You smile. “Uh, well… you know where I work. Come by anytime.”
“Will do.” 
You take your leave, and as soon as they don’t hear your footsteps, Foggy faces his friend with the biggest, cartoonish look on his face.
“I can practically hear you grinning.” Matt said, hearing him skip towards him like a kid.
“Oh, come on!” Foggy says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I don’t need super hearing like you to see she was flustered. I think you might be leaning away from the childhood friend zone, Matt.”
“Foggy, I haven’t seen her since I was nine. Maybe she was just happy to see me too.
“Okay, again, don’t need super hearing to tell you’re lying. Besides, you’re Matthew Murdock; The guy who somehow picks out all the pretty women wherever he goes.”
“And… how would I know if Y/N’s beautiful?”
“I don’t know. You describe her as being cute.”
“Yeah, and I was saying that from a nine year old’s point of view.” Matt points out, hearing him sigh. Although, the quietness didn’t last long when he admits that his curiosity has peaked. “What does she look like now?”
Foggy grins again, slinging his arm over his shoulder. “Okay! She’s gotten taller, Obviously. She was wearing a white blouse with a black blazer and pants, very professional looking.” He explains as his friend listens along. “Uh, she still had (Y/H/C) colored hair, which was tied up in a messy bun, and had a few strands in her face, probably from this weather. Uh, you know, (Y/E/C) eyes, uh, some makeup, but not too much. Just the right amount. Uh–”
Matt chuckles. “You’re really going into this one.” He tilts his head playfully. “Shall I set up a date?”
Foggy lightly swats him in the arm. “Can it.” He says, before looking quite prideful of himself. “I, my dear friend, am a happily married man. I think Marci might throw me off the roof If I did.”
“And probably stage it like an accident.”
“Exactly.” He points and sits down in one of the chairs. “I love her too much to do that. But you, on the other hand, don’t have to hesitate.” Foggy points out as his friend sighs. “Come on, Matt. What’s the harm in it? What are you afraid of? Your disability? Your heightened senses? ‘Cause I don’t think she’s going to care about either of those.”
“She’s going to care about something…” Matt mumbles, making the blond perk up.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Foggy hums and straightens up. “Well, if it’s not going to be a date, you can at least invite her out to the bar on Thursday with us. Because I deserve to know about your childhood.”
Matt raises an eyebrow. “I’ve told you about my childhood.” 
“Yeah, but I want it from her point of view. You know–” He shrugs. “Maybe you left out some embarrassing details?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, let’s get that paperwork ready for our client, alright?” 
Foggy sighs, playfully. “Fine. Party pooper.” He whines, and then smiles. “But seriously, drinks with her, por favor?”
“I guess I can.” Matt said, admitting defeat as his friend shoots his hands in the air, standing up from his chair towards the printer.
“Thank you!” He sings, getting a laugh…
And a very subtle…
Frown.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You shut the locker you were using loudly before carefully making sure everything was still inside (You still weren’t sure who could even trust in this place). Once you saw everything is, you slung your bag over your shoulder and exited the room, surprised to find your new partner just outside like on repeat.
“Captain?” You said, confused (You wondered if he needed something, or maybe you two finally had a case together).
“Detective.” Frank said, after a puff from his cigarette. “Where’d you run off to this evening?”
“Just some fresh air.” You reply, shocked that he didn’t even sound mad. “Plus, I… ran into someone I knew. Decided to catch up.”
“Hmm. I get it. It can get suffocating here.” His dark eyes trailed down from your face, looking deep in thought (It was starting to make you nervous).
“Captain?” 
“Your badge is all twisted in your collar.” 
You didn’t even get the chance to look at it yourself before he was leaning in close and started fixing it himself. You stood stiff and confused, not sure what to even say or do. And you really weren’t sure what to do when you suddenly felt his lips by your earlobe.
What is he–
“The walls have ears.” He whispers, making you quietly gasp. You watch him pull away with a smile, and then loudly say, “Want to come with me to the vending machine?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You trained yourself to relax, realizing that you officially know now that someone in the building was watching and eavesdropping on you. You had to act like you were completely unaware of anything, just like you have been since you started here. You stood next to Frank as he was acting like he was trying to decide what he wanted as he started speaking quietly to you.
“I can tell you’re not in the program.” Was the first thing he said, surprising you once again.
“How can you tell?” You asked, also looking preoccupied.
“‘Cause you don’t look scared to death when someone starts talking to you.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
“Well…” His frown comes and goes on his face. “Hate to break it to you, but I am.”
You let the shock hit your face before washing it away. “You accepted it?” You asked, as he nodded. You couldn’t even believe it. “Why? And what did they make you do?”
“I had to.” Frank admitted. “I needed to prove myself to the… cause.”
“What did you do?”
He glances at you for a second. “I killed the cop that went against the program’s orders.” He must have seen the way you paled because he apologized. “Sorry. But I didn’t enjoy it if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just trying to stop all this bullshit.”
“Stop?” You asked, intrigued. 
“Yeah. Like it should have all those years ago.” 
“What do you mean?”
“There was a different Kingpin who ran the city years ago. His name was Wilson Fisk, and unlike the new one, he showed the world who he was; He wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Until… something or someone slipped up, and he was finally charged for all his crimes.”
“Weird.”
“Yeah. The public thought it was all over, and they still do. They don’t even realize that another person has claimed the throne of the underworld. Except us on the task force.”
You inhale sharply. “Jesus.”
“Yeah.” He mutters, not even hiding his frown. “Listen, Detective. I’ve read your file and color me impressed; Like, really fucking impressed. You’ve done some amazing things in your career.”
Your heart flutters at the compliment. “Thanks.” However you couldn’t help but wonder what if he was aiming at something else. “But…?”
“But… there will be consequences if you don’t expect the program.”
You scoffed quietly. “So I’ve been told.”
“And you should take it to heart, Kid.” He said, sincerely. “Look, I admire your… hard headedness, and I’ll try to support your decision as much as I can, ‘cause you’re my partner. But you’re going to face the worst of the worse. You’re going to have verbal and physical threats, your job’s going to get tougher, and you’re probably going to have people try to kill you.”
“So I’ve been told.” You said again, making him grow quiet. 
Very quiet. You could almost sense the–
“I might have to kill you.” 
And then your eyes widened again, this time, your fear really showed. You saw that Frank seemed uncomfortable by what he said (and could you even blame him?).
“I’m your partner, I’m going to be the closest person to you while you’re working here, so it’s highly likely. And I really don’t want to.” Frank meets your gaze, guilt inside his orbs. “But I have a family, Kid. If it comes down to a choice, I’m going to have to choose them over you. You understand?”
You nod slowly. “I understand.”
“Good.” He decides to finally pick what he wanted out of the machine, finishing with, “Just consider everything I said. Because I want to work with you, you seemed like a good fit for me; And I want you to be by my side if we take this guy down.” He reaches down to grab the candy, handing it over to you with a smile. “I’ll see you around.”
You take it in your grasp, watching him leave the room with his work façade on and airtight. Now you were left with all your emotions swirling, leaving you to think everything over rapidly.
I wonder how many people are like Frank. Would I be the same way if I still had my family? It hurts you think about it, but who wouldn’t in a situation like this?
You glanced down at your bag.
.
.
.
That once glance is what you needed to make your choice.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Dawning the all black attire once more, you walked along the dark parts of the city, keeping your eyes peeled and ears open for anything useful. But after a few hours out into the night, you almost headed home in defeat until you caught wind of something.
You carefully walked down the steps of the fire escape, looking down at what was the backdoor of a bodega, open, and two people having a tense conversation. You say the shop owner, a guy your age, talking to someone who you deemed shady. 
“Where’s the rest?” The shady man asked after rummaging through a duffle back that he handed. 
“T-That’s all of it.” The shop keeper said.
“That can’t be all of it. You’re low this month.”
“W-Well profits have been down, so–”
“That’s no excuse.” The shady man grabs him by the collar (which was the last straw in your eyes). “My boss ain’t going to like that.”
“I-I don’t know what you want me to do! I don’t have any–”
You finally dropped to the ground, startling them. The shady man tries to hide his fear by putting up a tough look. “Who the fuck are you?” He sneered, right before you blasted him into the door.
“Get inside.” You told the shopkeeper, which he wastes no time to do. You walked closer and kneeled before the man who was groaning in pain. “So you like to steal money from the innocent. Why?”
He peaked his eyes open, gritting through his teeth. “Who–” Then he sighs. “Oh, you’re a masked… woman? I’m letting a woman beat me?”
“You sure are, buddy.” You snagged his hand just as he started reaching for his gun, and used your strength to apply pressure. “I’ll leave you be if you just answer my question.” You squeezed more getting a peep out of him. “Why are you taking his money?”
“Ugh, c-cause my Boss owns this block, he gets half of the businesses to pay for their protection.”
“So they pay you so you can protect them?”
“Yes!”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know, I’m just the messenger– Ah!!”
You twisted in the opposite direction, making him wiggle under your grasp. “Who’s your Boss? The Kingpin?”
“The Kingpin? Fuck no! I-I mean, we partner with him, but we don’t directly talk to him unless it’s something serious– Ow!”
Interesting. So they’re independent? Or, they believe they’re independent? You have put that information on the backburner for now.
“So who’s your Boss?” You asked, as he shakes his head.
“I ain’t telling you that!”
“Alright then, who’s the Kingpin?”
“He’s–” Then he froze which got you interested.
“Oh, so you know stuff about him? Well that’s perfect.” You use your other hand to pin him to the door. “Tell me everything.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
With just a few pieces of information, it was enough to get you going. Enough to start doing what you thought was necessary. Over the next few weeks, your little night job caught the eyes of the public. What started off with just one newspaper flooded into more. Soon you saw the silhouette picture of you everywhere you go (Might seem a little narcissistic, but you kind of felt a rush from it). But… not everyone felt great about your appearance. What started off with a phone call from one of his men, pleading him to turn on the tv, soon fueled his rage. 
The Kingpin, The God of the Underworld, The Western Sun of The Hand, listened intensely to everything the news reporter is saying.
[More Vigilantes? Looks like Queens isn’t the only one having a masked hero, looks like one decided to spawn in our neck of the woods. Nicknamed ‘The Masked Man’ has been helping out our rougher parts, and bringing rightful criminals to justice. This week alone, ten wanted men from a local gang have been placed on the steps of a few police stations. Although authorities are grateful that they’ve been brought in, just like what happened with Queens’ Ghost-Spider, they’re still hesitant against this new helper. But of course, the public have a different opinion, and are praising this new hero with gratitude. Up next, we have–]
The Kingpin clenches his fists with bitterness, and grits through his teeth with, “Those fucking idiots.”
Why didn’t any of them tell him that this was happening frequently? Or that this was happening at all? Why did he have to find out through a goddamn news station? 
He could tell his men on the other side of the phone was doing his best not to tremble as he spoke,
[‘Do you want us to see if we can draw him out, Sir?]
“Not yet. I have somewhere to be, and I want to meet this person myself. So, wait for my orders.”
[‘Yes, Sir. Enjoy your night.’]
He hung up the phone, tossing it onto his desk as he let out a heavy sigh. One that was loud enough to make his friend crack a joke as he waltzed in.
“Whoa. What did the desk do to you?” Foggy jokes, getting a snort as a reply.
“Oh, I could make a list.” Matt quips back with a smile.
“Well, if you’re caught up with the news, our last client just left. Which means, we can finally go get drinks!” Foggy starts spinning on his heels for the exit. “Come on! She’s supposed to meet us there! You can’t keep a lady waiting.”
“Of course.” Matt calls out, turning the tv off. The next words could be chilling to anyone that wasn’t his friend. And that was…
.
.
.
“What kind of gentleman would I be?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The three of you clink your glasses and yell, “Cheers!”
“Y/N, I’m glad you could finally make it to our weekly outing.” Foggy replies, chirpy as usual (You could see now how he attached himself to Matt).
“Thank you for the invitation, again. I’m sorry I’m…” You chuckled. “Week’s late. Work’s been pinning me down like crazy.”
“Have you had any cases?” Matt asked, curiously.
“Uh… not really. It’s more like stopping a few robbers, and just going over cold cases. But then we got short staff last week, and somehow I got stuck being a traffic cop. I haven’t been one of those since the academy.”
“Do you miss San Francisco?” Foggy asked, as you shrugged.
“Eh, sometimes. I mean, I liked the people I work with; I miss my old partner Max the most. But my new one, Frank, he’s pretty good, a little lazy sometimes, but still good.”
“So what made you want to be a detective?”
“Is this twenty questions now?” Matt asked, tongue and cheek.
“What?” Foggy said, looking between the two. “I’m just curious. You can’t tell me you’re not.”
“Well, uh—”
“Yeah, he’s curious. Please tell us, Y/N.”
You laugh at their shenanigans, reminding you of your youth. “Uh, let’s see.” You start racking your brain on the reason why. “Honestly… it kind of just happened. I saw it on one of those career guides in my last year of high school and I just went with it. Part of me just thought it sounded cool, and the other part of me just likes the idea of helping someone.”
“Huh.” Foggy takes her answer in dearly. “That’s interesting.”
Another laugh. “I guess.”
“One more question.”
“Shoot.”
“Being in the law enforcement, you know, as someone who has to… uphold the law. How do you feel about these vigilantes in New York? Because–” He points to himself. “I think they’re doing the right thing, despite… ‘breaking’ the law so to speak. Now, Matt on the other hand–” He points to the blind man. “Slightly disagrees with me.”
“Oh, really?” You asked, intrigued. 
“I…” Matt begins, shifting in his seat. “Just want to make sure the right guy pays.”
“Huh.” You take that in, storing it away. “Well, it doesn’t really bother me. As long as they’re helping and not hurting the right people, I can side with them.”
“See?” Foggy said, looking in his friend’s direction and slapped him on the shoulder.  “I’m not crazy. And this is coming from a detective of all people.” He sighs blissfully. “Although, my only criticism is, the media needs a better name for this person. Masked Man ain’t cutting it.”
“And what would you call this person? Ghost-Spider 2.0?” Matt asked, interested now (And so were you).
“No, no. This person isn’t a copycat. They need something cool, something, maybe sinister? I mean, have you read one of the reports that say that the person had glowing red eyes? Or that another report said that they swear they fly? So it has to be kind of the nose here. Like… Red Angel, no! Red Devil! Or… Devil Man! Or… uh…”
“Like… Daredevil.” You said, the word clicking in your head. That seemed to get him really excited as he looked like a child in a toy store.
“That’s it! Daredevil! That’s perfect.” He gasps. “Maybe I should have that idea sent somewhere.”
“Daredevil.” You tested, almost getting butterflies from in. “I like it.”
“Oh, I know. It’s perfect.”
You hummed happily. “Alright, enough about a complete stranger. How about the two of you? How did you guys decide to become lawyers?”
Matt hums, thinking. “I guess… mine was kind of just heritage.” He admits, implying his mother’s legacy.
“Well, my mom wanted me to be a butcher, but I told her ‘no’.” Foggy replies, making you tilt your head, confused.
“A butcher?” You asked, as Matt groans.
“Oh, you just opened a can of worms, Y/N.” He says, confusing you more.
“Why?”
Then Foggy claps his hands together, startling you a bit. “Oh, my deary, this is a tale I must tell everyone. But first, I’m hungry. I’m going to buy nachos for the table. Be right back.”
And then he left, and it wasn’t even a second later when the suspense was broken. “You know, if he’s too much, I can make an excuse for you to leave.” Matt half heartedly jokes.
“No, no, I like Foggy.” You smile his way. “I’m glad you both have each other. He seems good for you.”
“You sound almost jealous.”
Yeah, well… maybe?
“Well, let’s be real, Matt, I’m not exactly the same kid I was when I left.” You say, honestly.
“Oh come on, you can’t have changed that much.”
“You have no idea.”
He hums again, leaning closer. “Well, I guess that could imply me as well.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You scoot closer too. “Well… we can just try starting over?”
“Oh, yeah?” He tilts his head. “What about picking up where we left off? Slowly figuring out the missing pieces, Peaches?”
“Oh,yeah? Mr… Bratty-Matty?”
“Oh… Bratty-Matty? You really were a sly kid–” His fingers brush over your. “Weren’t you?”
You chuckle, your heart fluttering. “Maybe…”
“Maybe?” He repeats, then his blank gaze looks away from you. “I can hear Foggy coming back.”
You look up to confirm it. “Yeah, he is.” Which you were kind of sad about.
Seemingly reading your mind, he said, “Hey? If you’re free in the next few days, do you want to catch up? Just you and me?”
You smile, cheeks feeling red. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
“Perfect.”
He removes his hand just as Foggy came back, only for you to grab it under the table. You felt him squeeze back, and start listening to the blond man’s tale about how he became a lawyer.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Sure you don’t want us to walk you home?” Foggy asked, as they all stood outside on the curb, a cab pulling in front of them.
“I’m like one block this way. I’ll be okay.” You said, smiling. “But thanks anyway.”
“Nice seeing, Y/N.” Matt said, as he started folding up his walking stick.
“You too.” You watch them start getting in before blurting out, “Hey, Matt?” You get his attention. “Call me.” That makes him smile, and Foggy cheers on.
“Ooooh.” 
“Alright, get in the cab, Nelson.” Matt said, getting in himself.
“Bye, Y/N.”
You wave them goodbye before walking away. Hands in your pocket, and a new pep in your step, you strolled the sidewalk without a care in the world.
I can’t wait to meet him again. You felt like a teenager again with your little highschool crushes. 
I wonder what Matt looked like as a teenager? It still saddens you that you lost touch with him all those years back. You always wonder happened to him and why he stopped writing.
Was it because of the accident? Or was it something else? You shake your head.
I’ll just have to ask him next time. Hmm? You stopped your movements in front of a store that you haven’t yet explored, and read the sign before getting an idea.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You plopped the stuff you grabbed onto the counter, everything between some new fabric scraps to some spray paint. You look around nonchalantly as the cashier, who looks like he’s done with this place, starts ringing everything up. You occasionally tuned in on the beeping and the sound of the plastic bag opening before he decided to strike up a conversation.
“You going to comic con or something?”
“Hmm?”
“You going to comic con?” He repeats, and you shake your head.
“No.” You raise an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“The materials you’re buying suggest that you’re making something. A costume?”
You smile, prideful. “Something like that.”
And you could already picture that you weren’t going to be sleeping tonight.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The trembling, beat up goon, kneeled with his head on the floor in front of the man dressed in a blood red suit, a cane shielding the blade everyone saw him use.
“Speak.” Matt hissed, everyone holding their breaths when he spoke.
“I-I swear, this person literally looked like the devil! I-It had horns and c-could fly!” The man shook with every word, biting his lip as he awaited an answer.
“A devil?”
“Y-Yes! A devil! I-It took out the whole truck! Beat up all our guys! Pushed the weapons into the Hudson!”
Matt furrows his brows. “Pushed them into the Hudson? How? Those crates are almost a ton. How is that possible?”
“It’s got some kind of superpower! The whole truck was engulfed in red before being pushed in with a wave of its hand! I s-swear! I’m telling you the truth, my King!”
With a wave of the hand? Matt clenched his can, and anyone could see how angry he was now.
“Sir? What do you want us to do?” Someone behind him asked, and it was no brainer what he wants to do; He’s thought about time and time again.
“Do we still have some of those hallucination vials on hand?” Matt asked, hearing him nod.
“Yes, Sir. We should have a case of them lying around.”
“Good. Get ready.”
“Sir?”
.
.
.
“Because I’ve just declared war on this Devil.”
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*Decided to draw what the reader's costume looks like so you can get an Idea.* Ignore the resolution. Idk why it came it out that way. lol.
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-Taglist Is Open-
@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene
@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666
@nkmblackhyuuga
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skyfallslayer · 2 months
Text
The Black & White Lie || Chapter One
-Modern Day!Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader-
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Series Masterlist
🦋Summary: Ah, College. A time where you can finally spread your wings and enjoy a little bit of freedom. And you’re even spending it with your best friend, Jonathan. You shouldn’t get too lonely… right?
🦋Pairings: Slow burn! Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader; (Past) Jason Carver x Reader; Platonic! Jonathan Byers x Reader; Jonathan x Nancy
🦋Rating: Teen
🦋Word Count: 3,248
🦋Date: 2/18/24
🦋Warnings: Brief mention of underage drinking; Brief talks of sex - of losing virginity; Slight Reference to a panic attack. Read At Your Own Risk!
🦋 A/N: If you recognized the summary for this story, this is actually inspired by the movie 'Son-In-Law'. When I watched for the first time the other day, for some reason the love interest reminded me of Eddie a lot and- *Ding*Ding*! Lightbulb moment! And then before you know it, every idea came flooding in and then this was born. Hopefully it turns out like it did in my head. Lol. Enjoy!
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In a small rural town in Hawkins, Indiana, is where this strange adventure begins. Born 18 years ago is our main protagonist of the story, Y/N Wheeler. Y/N grew up with a loving family that owns a farm, consisting of her twin sister, Nancy, her younger brother, Mike, and baby sister, Holly; and of course her parents. 
When she wasn’t helping out on her parents’ farm, Y/N was the typical “all american” girl. She dawns lovely clothes, is mindful and full of manners, a cheer captain and top of her classes throughout the school years and earned many straight A’s that steered her in the right direction for a bright future and career. Which leads to her very big day…
.
.
.
Now here you are, dressed in hunter green silk and caps, the seniors waited around on the bleachers of the basketball court, diplomas in hand as they listened to their principal speak from his heart, telling them that he was very proud that you made it this far. When he finishes everyone claps and soon the spotlight falls upon you as the class valedictorian. 
You stood up as your name was called, hearing everyone applaud and your family cheer from you in the stands; You even heard your boyfriend, Jason, shouting your name. You step up to the podium with a smile, proceeding to recite the speech that you’ve replayed thousands of times.
“Today, I would like to talk about change. It’s all around us.” You feel your family’s eyes on you as you begin. “Change. It happens whether we want it or not. Change. Are we ready for it? I think so. We are poised and prepared for the future, ready to embrace new people, places and ideas. In short, we are ready for the challenge of life. Lady and Gentleman, take a good look at us. We are the future. We are the Hawkins Tigers. Here us roar! We did it!”
“I give you the class of 20XX!” Your principal sent just as everyone sent their caps into the air while jumping with joy.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“We fucking did.” Your twin, Nancy, said once everyone was settled down into their friend’s house for the party. She passes you a drink and gives you a wink to silently tell you this was a… special fruit punch.
You laugh quietly. “Thank you Mr. Hopper.” You smile and take a sip before sighing with relief. “Four long years and it’s finally over.”
Nancy hums. “And you’re the one who’s jumping right back into it.”
You quirk your eyebrow up. “Hey, pot-kettle? You’re going to college, too.”
“Not willing…” She sighs. “I wish I could have gone to the same school as you.”
“I know.” You frown a little. It was always hard to not stay attached to your twin, especially when you’ve done pretty much everything together. However, you try to keep both your hopes up by saying, “But, hey… you can’t pass up a scholarship. Indiana’s instate school is still just as great as California’s. Not to mention, Indiana U has the best journalism courses, this is your dream! Your calling! You’ll be great.”
You see your sister smile, happy with the outcome just as someone came up and slung their arms around both your shoulders.
“How are my favorite girls doing?” Jonathan, who was your childhood/best friend, asked, with the biggest grin on his face. Whether that was from drinking or feeling the high of not being in highschool, you were unsure of but glad to see he was enjoying himself.
“Pretty amazing, actually.” Nancy replies to her boyfriend (Yeah, her boyfriend. Whom she should thank you for that). “You?”
He lets out a blissful sigh. “Fantastic! The nightmare is finally over.” 
You snorted and teased, “You really didn’t like it?”
“Hell, no. You think there’s room for a nerd like me? I never fit in.”
“Awe.” Nancy said, squeezing his cheek. “You’ll always be our nerd.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, hey! Y/N! Jonathan!” You both turned around to spot one of your brothers’ friends, Dustin. He smiles with his goofy toothless grin, making you heart melt (He was always your favorite one. Don’t tell, Mike). “Hey, if you find a cute girl around my age in Cali, send her my way.”
“Dusty!” His mother said, catching his conversation when she walked by.
“What?”
Jonathan laughs. “We’ll try. I promise.” He said, ruffling the kid’s springy hair.
He holds his hand to his chest, all moved. “What about you Nancy? Any cute girls in Bloomington?” 
“I will definitely try, Dustin.” She promises as well, crossing her heart. It must have been enough for the boy before he ran off with some friends to the backyard.
“What do you think Cali’s like?” Jonathan asked, genuinely curious.
“Hmm, don’t know.” Nancy said, knowing just watching shows from there and reading up about it wasn’t enough information.
“I mean, sun, sand, ocean, uh–” 
“Baywatch, The Hollywood sign, uh, Nickelodeon, um–” You started naming off things and couldn’t hide the fact that you were about to laugh at your own antics. Both your sister and friend were on the verge of doing the same.
“Nickelodeon?” Jonathan muttered, surprised.
“Y-Yeah, uh, Regular Show, San Andreas fault, Chris Pine, Comic Con, Pet Rocks–”
“Pet Rocks?” Nancy asked, confused.
“Hey, they were invented in the state, look it up. Uh, Universal Studios, Barbie, The San Diego Zoo, Alcatraz–”
She chuckles. “Y/N, Stop.”
“Never.”
“Oh, kids!” Jonathan’s mother, Joyce, called out, getting their attention. 
Well, I guess that’s your guys’ cue to take some photos.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You were all packed and ready to go for the next day. Since Nancy didn’t start school till next week, your family decided it would be nice for all of you to pack in the old van and drive to your new school. Your Dad says it was for… safety, but you knew better; They were all going to desperately miss you. Which leads to this conversation that’s been going back and forth for a few moments now.
“-California is a long way off just to go to school. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider going in state?” Your father, Ted, asked, and just when you were about to ‘go to bed’.
You laugh lightly, trying to calm his nerves. “You know I want to do this. Besides, I won’t be alone. Jonathan will be there with me.” 
“Well– that’s true. But uh, Y/N, I’m not sure if I’ve really prepared you for what you’re gonna run into out there. Uh–” He clears his throat as you raise an eyebrow. “What I mean is… the boys are different from what they are here. They’re uh–”
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
You smile. “I’ll be fine. You know me.”
He nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He knows you well enough that you won’t do anything too crazy. “Now let’s try to get some shut eye.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight.”
“‘Night.” 
And when the door shut, your closet automatically flew wide open (and you pray that it didn’t make too much noise).
“He’s officially calling it a night?” Nancy asked, dressed in street clothes which you were also wearing under your robe. She was skeptical as she stared at the door wondering if he’ll just waltz back in here without warning.
“Yep.” You reply, shedding your coverage and standing tall.
“Oh, finally! He gave the same talk, and I don’t leave for another week!” She smiles. “Thanks for letting me sneak out.”
“Hey, we both got to see our boyfriends before we leave, right?”
“Just–” She grabs you by your hands. “Be careful, alright?”
“Right back at you, Nance.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You found yourself in the barn that was far away from your house. Laying on the hay bales, you were kissing Jason passionately, your hands in his hair and slowly moaning his name as he slowly undoes each button on your blouse. But your worriedness got the best of you, making you squirm a bit from his touch.
“Jason.” You whisper, feeling his fingers skim across your bra straps.
“What?” He said back, ghosting your ripe lips.
“Slow down.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I-I want it to be right.” You reply, a twinge of guilt courses through you as he stops his actions, looking you dead in the eyes with concern and softness.
“Well, when is it going to be right?” He asked, sounding like a lost puppy. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”
You almost laugh at the face he was making. “You act like it’s forever.”
“Well I’m not going to see you for three months. What if everything changes?”
“Nothing is going to change.” You shake your head, cupping his face and stroking his cheeks with your thumb. “I’ll go to school, you’ll work at the co-op, and we’ll see each other every single vacation. And when I’m done–” You smile. “We’ll be together.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay.” He whispers, fully under your spell. “I guess I can wait.”
You hum in delight. “Now…” You pull him closer again. “Where were we?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Dad’s going to blow a fuse if we don’t leave soon!” Nancy says, barging into the bathroom where you were finishing up doing your hair.
“I know, I know. I’m finishing up.” You said, sparing your twin a glance. You can see her button her collared shirt all the way up, making you grin like the cheshire cat. “Oooh… I didn’t know Byers was a biter.”
She blushed and lightly smacked you in the arm. “Do not tease me. I mean he always is.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Always?”
“Yeah.” She locks eyes with you, face still red before realizing. “Wait… You and Jason still haven’t done it?”
Now it was your turn to blush. “W-Well–”
“I thought you surely were going to do it last night?”
“I-I don’t know, I got weird.” You shrug, breaking eye contact. “I told him we should wait, you know, when the time’s right.”
“So you’re going to be like a 40 year old virgin?” Nancy teased, copying your grin from earlier.
“Hey.” You said, smacking her this time. 
“Joking, I think it’s sweet. Y/N Wheeler, the purest of all Wheelers.”
“You know they think you’re pure too.” You said as you followed her out and down the stairs.
“Ha, ha.”
“I’m serious, Nance!” You reply, feeling around your pockets as you do so. “Oh, crap. I forgot my phone.”
“Well hurry up! Dad’s a ticking time bomb.” She yelled back and hustled out of the house. The conversation she foretold was being presented in front of her.
“I don’t get why we’re driving. Flying would be much easier.” Mike complained as he loaded his backpack into the car with a sour expression.
“We’re just trying to spend some quality time with your sister, Okay?” Their mother, Karen said, giving him a look to tell him to stop.
“Oh, good, Holly’s here.” Ted said, as he spotted the four year old climbing into the van. “Mike, where’s your sisters?” 
“I’m here!” Nancy said, while fixing her hair to cover her neck.
“Okay, where’s Y/N then?”
“Maybe she’s still in the barn with–” Mike snickers, before getting whacked in the back of his head by Nancy. “Ow! Mom!”
“Kids, stop fighting!” Karen shouted back.
“Y/N!” Ted called out, upon seeing his daughter still up in her room through her window.
“Coming!” You called back, double checking you have everything before you go (I mean I guess your family could mail anything you need to you but that’ll be a hassle for them; And maybe kind of a dick to do that to them?).
“Well hurry up! Time is of the essence.” He sighs. “I swear, the Byers are going to beat us there.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
And sure enough…
They did.
Parking pretty much right next to each other, you stood their basking in front of the school along with Jonathan and his sister. The younger girl was looking at it like she’s never seen such a big building before.
“Bitchin’.” She says, and both you and Jonathan hold back a laugh.
“Language, young lady.” Jim, or who you like to call, Hopper said to his daughter who gave him a strange look.
“You say it all the time.” 
“Think she’s caught you there.” Jonathan said, throwing salt into the wound.
“You’re not helping your sister here.” He points to the car. “Now I’m going to make my kids grab your own bags.”
“What?!” They said, which resulted in some light bickering, which was kind of happening with the other family beside them.
“Y/N! Get your head out of the clouds, and let’s find your dorm.” Ted said, and you hurry over. 
The families grabbed the belongings and headed straight first into the hectic crowd. This was definitely a culture shock for them, especially for the Wheelers. The hallway was crowded with rowdy young adults, cracking jokes, makeout sessions, and even the occasionally streaker. You locked eyes with your sister when it happened, who was trying to hold back a smirk as your eyes just stayed wide. Your dad ushered you to keep moving until you found your dorm, overhearing a conversation while you passed.
“Uh, this was the– uh, opportunity that you wanted for your daughter?” Ted said, as Karen tried to hold back her feelings on her face (Which was hard at this point).
When you finally got to the room at the end of the hall, room 408, you noticed the left side of the room was empty, free for you to use. The other side was already occupied, filled with a few movie posters and cheer pendants. You smiled and wondered what your roommate would be like (and was excited that she likes cheerleading like you. At least you have a good conversation started).
“Hey, why don’t you see where Jonathan’s at?” You tell Nancy who complied and dove back into the crowd.
“Well this is very cozy, sweetie.” Karen said, trying to stay positive.
“It’s a shithole.” Mike replies, plopping on your bed.
“Mike!”
“What?”
“It’s… not bad. I’ll do.” You said, also trying to keep your head up high. But your brother tries to say something else and you were fortunately saved by a cute ginger girl entering the room.
“Hello, there. I’m Chrissy, your roomie.” She said, slightly shy as she gave the family a wave.
“Hi.” You said, waving too. “I’m Y/N.”
“Sorry to bother you, Chrissy, but it seems we forgot the key to her trunk.” Ted said, gesturing to where most of your belongings were. “Do you have any idea where I can get some tools?”
“Oh, yes. Uh, our resident advisor should have something.” She points across the hall. “He’s right across from here.”
“Oh, perfect. Thank you.” He was secretly happy that his precious daughter would be across from the advisor. He pushes himself past some people, knuckles brushing against the door. He knocked a few times afterwards when he didn’t get a response, wondering if maybe it was too loud to even hear it or he’s not in. So, treading carefully, he opens the door to peek inside.
This was not at all what he was expecting.
He was blasted in the face with ‘Iron Maiden’, and a room that screamed heavy metal. Stickers and posters laid across the wall, all consisting of either some kind of band or horror film; A record player-CD combo on the shelf, instruments of every kind, sheet music on the floor, leather jackets and boots hanging off from the windows and ceiling. This was not…
Resident advisor material.
Did he walk into the wrong place or–
“Hello!!” A voice shouts before he dangled upside down in front of the older man. Ted nearly has a heart attack as he startles and falls back against the door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, I’m just trying to get the creative juices flowing. You know?”
“Uh– s-sure.” Ted said, still trying to process this. He keeps his eyes on him and not the fact that this boy was hanging from a pipe. “Um, I need to borrow a screwdriver.”
The boy, who’s hair was long and curly and orbs of cinnamon, raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I’m all out of vodka.”
“N-No, I need an actually screwdriver. My daughter’s trunk is–”
“Oh, you have a daughter! Is she cute?”
“What–”
“I’m just kidding.” He smiles and holds his hand out. “Name’s Eddie. I’m the resident advisor.”
Make that a second heart attack for Mr. Wheeler, who’s face paled as he tried reaching for the doorknob behind him. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”
“What? Where are you going?” He asked, with a snort. “Don’t leave me hanging.”
But Ted was already hustling back over to the room where they were still talking to Chrissy, who was getting them up to speed on how this place ran. He comes over to his wife, pulling her aside and discussing what he just witnessed and how he’s not liking this. Meanwhile, Nancy had just returned while stringing along her boyfriend.
“Oh, Chrissy, this is my twin Nancy and my friend Jonathan.” You said, as she waves to them.
“Hi. You guys coming to school too?” Chrissy asked, your sister shaking her head.
“I am.” Jonathan said, before looking at you. “Y/N/N, this is awesome.”
You tilt your head. “Really? I still think this is a bit overwhelming.”
“I admit, it is, but my roommate, Argyle, is a trip.” He smiles. “I’m so going to love this place.”
“See, honey–” Karen said, loudly. “Jonathan’s staying.” She holds her hand up to stop her husband from talking. “And yes, I’m sure Joyce has some words about this place too, but the kids can’t pass this up. They got on a scholarship here.”
“But Karen–” He tries to protest.
“They. Have. A. Scholarship. They’re staying.” Her eyes trailed over to yours. “Right?”
You flash your dad a smile. “Don’t worry, Dad. It’ll be fine. And you know I can always come home.”
“See, Ted?” Your mother points out, finally defeating him. He mumbles an ‘okay’, satisfying her.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Mom, you’re suffocating me.” Jonathan said, after yet another hug and kiss from his mother. She was holding back some tears at the thought of leaving her oldest child behind in another state. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m really happy for you, I promise.” 
“I know, Mom, I know.” He takes her hands in his. “I promise I’ll be okay.” She opens her mouth to speak. “And I promise I’ll call every once and a while.”
Joyce smiles at the answer. “You’re going to do great.”
The family of five shared a hug afterwards, wishing him the best of luck. Meanwhile, the Wheelers were doing the same, squeezing the life of You and nagging you to make you call, or at least text them here and there. You of course promised them too, which was a good enough answer.
The last person to hug you was your sister, giving you a small squeeze of reassurance, knowing you like the back of her hand.
“I know you’re nervous about fitting it, but don’t sweat it.” She says, pulling away. “You’re going to do fine. If not, you can always go home, or…” She smirks. “You can nag Jonathan.”
You chuckle. “Of course I can nag him. It’s not like I’ll be alone.”
You have Jonathan, and you even have your chill roommate, Chrissy. You shouldn’t get too lonely.
.
.
.
.
Right?
(TBC)
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A/N: I promise the next one will be longer :) - Thanks for reading!
-Taglist Is Open-
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skyfallslayer · 5 months
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Hellblazer & Jade - Masterlist
-2005!Constantine x Daughter!OFC-
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Main Masterlist
❇️ Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the 2005 Constantine, with John having a daughter named Seraphina (Eventually will tie into some other DC movies).
❇️ Pairings: John Constantine x Daughter!OFC; (Later) Jamie Reyes x Constantine!OFC
❇️ Rating: Mature
❇️ Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter
❇️ Word Count: N/A
❇️ Start Date: N/A
❇️End Date: N/A
❇️ A/N: So.... I finally watched the 2005 Constantine movie and I immediately fell in love. And anyone who follows my other fics I write, you know I'm a sucker for a good father-daughter story line. Fluffy, comforting, and of course angsty. I also couldn't pass up the chance to write about Xolo's Blue Beetle and Battison. Without further ado, enjoy!
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-INDEX-
(*Story names and order may change over time)
❇️ Story 1: Sealing The Deal (Coming Soon)
❇️ Story 2: An Old Friend (Coming Soon)
❇️ Story 3: When In Doubt, Go To Gotham (Coming Soon)
❇️ Story 4: Laws, Magic, & A Man Dressed Like A Bat (Coming Soon)
❇️ Story 5: Stepping Out of The Comfort Zone (Coming Soon) - Side Story: Jamie Reyes Introduction.
❇️ Story 6: Of Aliens and Mind Games (Coming Soon)
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skyfallslayer · 1 month
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Character Sheet For My Fanfic
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Here's my character design for my rewrite of Stranger Things, Feat. Henderson!OC x Steve Harrington - ("Should We Stay or Should We Go?")
|| Background Information -
Stephanie Henderson is one of the main characters in Stranger Things, older sister to one of the boys in The Party, and an ex-best friends with a teenager her age, Steve Harrington. The truth around their broken friendship is a mystery that will soon take some time to unravel in the story, but despite her brother constantly telling her to let him go, she still wears the necklace he'd gifted her. She's a good role model to The Party, which includes her brother, Dustin, that she cherishes will all her love. The story follows her becoming really close, to everyone's surprise, to Will Byers, the boy she has to protect in a world that looks like their own but is filled with horror.
|| Biographical Information -
DOB: January 21st, 1967 (Aquarius)
Age: Sixteen
Alias: Steph (By Most); Phanie (Pronounced "Fan-nee") (By Dustin); The Ranger (By Will); Nerd - Nerdy Girl (Fun/Insult); Grunge Chick (Fun/Insult)
Residence: Henderson House, Hawkins, Indiana
Family: Dustin (Younger Brother); Claudia (Mother); Unnamed Father
Other Relations: Steve Harrington (Ex-Best Friend/Friend/Crush); Will Byers (Brother Figure); The Party (Friends)
Occupation: Student at Hawkins High School; Unnamed Burger Joint; Will's Guardian In The Upside Down
|| Physical Information -
Height: 5'4" (162cm)
Eye Color: Sky Blue
Hair Color: Dark Brown
|| Trivia -
Stephanie is describe to be very sweet and caring, extremely witty and temperamental - Which might come in handy for her sense of danger, but not when it comes to a broken promise. The loneliness when she felt after Steve left made her over think a lot a things about herself, wondering if being the "tom-boy/grunge girl" she is messed with his vibe. But rest assure, Dustin always knows how to make her feel better.
Favorite song to sing is "Separate Ways" By Journey (*Release January 5th, 1983)
Journey, Metallica and Nirvana are her top picks for bands
Despite having a guitar pick necklace, she's never once played guitar nor any instrument
Her favorite color is Sea Foam Green
Steph's only unique trait, minus the freckles on her nose, is a scar on her shoulder from "the incident" (*Hint*Hint* This might have to do with a certain someone 👀)
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skyfallslayer · 2 years
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The Devils Are Caught In Red String
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Main Masterlist
♡ Summary: Childhood friendships are a sacred thing... But so are secrets. This story revolves around a girl named Anya Hughes, an attorney by day and a vigilante by night. Join her into the struggles she’ll face, like her path coming back to haunt her, then facing a man who holds all the power, all while she develops a crush on her close friend. How long can she take all this until she falls apart?
(Basically a Daredevil rewrite with OC (or reader-insert if you'd like) who is secretly related to Peter Parker.)
♡ Pairings: Matt Murdock x Parker!OFC; Foggy Nelson x Platonic!OFC; Foggy x Marci Stahl; Minor Frank Castle x Karen Page; Peter Parker x Sister!OFC
♡ Rating: Explicit
♡ Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter: (This story will contained future 18+ content. Minor DNI. It also contains a slow burn and childhood trauma.)
♡ Word Count: 45,568
♡ Start Date: 9/29/22
♡ End Date: N/A
♡ A/N: Like it says above, this is a rewrite of Daredevil but with Parker OFC. It follows the show pretty much to a T but it'll evetually get a bit dark, gory, and very smutty. You'll be warned before each chapter, but read at your own risk. The story and it's plot is the only thing I own.
》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《
// INDEX //
○ Chapter 1: Into the Ring
○ Chapter 2: Cut Man & Specter
○ Chapter 3: Rabbit In A Snowstorm
○ Chapter 4: In The Blood
○ Chapter 5: World on Fire
○ Chapter 6: Condemned
○ Chapter 7: Stick & Spider
○ Chapter 8: Shadows In Our Glass
○ Chapter 9: Speaking of The Devils
○ Chapter 10: Nelson v. Murdock v. Hughes
○ Chapter 11: The Path of The Righteous
○ Chapter 12: The Ones We Leave Behind
○ Chapter 13: Daredevil & Phantom
-Tag list Is Open-
@uncle-eggy @fangirling-galore @superbreadsoul
@twsssmlmaa @winterschildren17 @yeonalie
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skyfallslayer · 4 months
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🔥 = Smut 🧸= Fluff 💔= Angst (The Holy Trinity of Fanfics)
Note: If two or more characters are marked for the same fic, then the emojis used to indicate above my vary depending on their part in the story. If they’re the love interest to the reader in their section, but the other person isn’t, then their emojis might be different.
REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN!
-Main Masterlist Index-
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•Eddie Munson
|| Series
The Black & White Lie - Coming Soon (xWheeler!Reader)🔥 🧸 💔
Summary: Modern! AU - Country girl Y/N Wheeler has spent most of her life on a farm in Hawkins, Indiana, and, when she goes away to college in Los Angeles, she immediately feels out of place in the daunting urban setting. She is befriended by a savvy party animal named Eddie Munson, who convinces the ambivalent girl to stay in the city. When Thanksgiving break rolls around, Y/N, no longer an innocent farm girl, invites Eddie back to Hawkins, where he pretends to be her fiancé.
|| One Shot
Forever Trusting Who We Are - Coming Soon (xHenderson!Reader)
Summary: N/A
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•Will Byers
|| Series
The Wizard's Ranger - Coming Soon (xPlatonic!Reader) 🧸💔
Summary: When Will got taken into the Upside Down, he wasn’t the only one who happened to be there. In order to survive he must listen to his protector, a young girl who is packed with weapons and enough knowledge for him to escape the Demogorgon.
Should We Stay or Should We Go? - Coming Soon (xPlatonic!Henderson!OFC; Slow burn!Byler) 🧸💔
Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins.
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•Steve Harrington
|| Series
Should We Stay or Should We Go? - Coming Soon (xSlow burn!Henderson!OFC) 🧸💔
Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins.
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•Dustin Henderson
|| Series
Should We Stay or Should We Go? - Coming Soon (xSister!OFC) 🧸💔
Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins.
|| One Shot
Matchmaker- Coming Soon (xSister!Reader) 🧸
Summary: N/A
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skyfallslayer · 1 year
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The Devils Are Caught In Red Strings || Chapter 4: In The Blood
-Matt Murdock x Parker!OFC-
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Series Masterlist
AO3 Link
♡Series Summary: Childhood friendships are a sacred thing... But so are secrets. This story revolves around a girl named Anya Hughes, an attorney by day and a vigilante by night. Join her into the struggles she’ll face, like her path coming back to haunt her, then facing a man who holds all the power, all while she develops a crush on her close friend. How long can she take all this until she falls apart? ♡
♡Chapter Summary: Two vicious Russian brothers working for Fisk, strike back in a way that makes Matt go feral while Anya deals with some unfortunate side effects. Meanwhile, Fisk moves to further consolidate his power in the criminal underworld. ♡
♡Date: 3/17/13 ♡
♡Rating: Explicit ♡
♡Word Count: 12,741♡
♡Warning: Spoilers for the show; Canon Typical Violence; Blood and Injury; Strong Use of Language; Lying; Poorly Executed Fighting Scenes; Vomiting; Torture Session(s); Brief Decapitation Scene (Proceed with caution); Use of Pet Names; (Unknowingly) Frenemies to Lovers; Talks of Child Abuse; Mini Dissociation Episode; Talks of Dying/Being Killed; Foggy Being A Wingman; Matt and Foggy Are Great Friends; Karen's Throwing Hands; Claire Needs A Vacation (Yet Again); Anya Could Use One As Well; Poorly Translated Spanish/Russian Via Google (Let me know if I missed anything). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! ♡
♡A/N: Here we go. Here's where shit starts hitting the fan. It's time for Fisk to show his true colors, Matt going from total softy to the devil in seconds, Foggy being the best boi, Karen becoming a total badass, and Anya dealing with the effects of her father's torment. Hope ya'll are ready. Enjoy! ♡
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Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Her whole world started to spin. The nausea clinged onto her like a bad habit. Her vocal chords were melting, she couldn’t even scream anything silent. She laid on her floor in agony, bad childhood memories flushed inside, reminding her why she was in this state to begin with.
.
.
.
// She’s flawed, honey. She can’t even use her abilities without getting sick. Such a disappointment. //
.
.
.
Her head was in the sand. Her eardrums are drowning in the water. Her stomach turned in a way she thought she was going to vomit again, but nothing would come up. 
I gotta… Her fingertips twitched against the lament, desperate to move.
I gotta move. I need to– 
Someone was knocking on her door. Loudly, but at a calming pace. This person wasn’t aware of what was going on with her; This person wasn't alarmed. 
"Anya? You there?" A voice called out, making her quietly groan. She couldn't recognize who it was. She wanted to curl into a little ball.
"Hey, you there? You haven't been answering our calls. Matt and I are worried."
Matt and I? So, it's not Matt at the door. So that narrows it down to–
"Karen kind of forced me to come check up on you because of it." 
Foggy. It's Foggy. She mentally curses, and forces herself to stand.
Shit. This is bad. He can't see me–
"So, are you home or– Jesus. Maybe you're out running around. Why didn't I think of that?"
She stumbles into the bathroom, kicking off her boots and taking off her clothes. She can't let him see her wearing these clothes or she's fucked. With trembling hands she tries snagging her bathrobe off its hook, only for her super strength to take over and pull it down completely causing a loud crash.
"Anya? Was that a crash? Are you okay? Anya?!" 
She groans and slips it on, tying a knot before heading down the hallway. She could hear his frantic knocking again and his concerned shouting, and she only wishes she could pick up the pace without the worries of toppling over.
"Anya! I got a spare key, don't make me–" Foggy stops mid sentence as the apartment door swings open. He watches as his best friend clings to the door, looking like she was put through a wringer. "Jesus… you look…"
"Like shit?" Anya finishes, holding down the nausea. 
"I couldn't say it better myself." He frowns worriedly, and silently asks If he could come in, which was granted. "What happened? What got you so sick?"
"You know that Mexican food place a block from here?" She asks, forming a lie on the fly as she closes the door.
"The one I suggested we should try?"
"Yeah. That one."
"Oh." He frowns. "So… No Bueno?" 
"Si, Si, Señor." 
"Awe. If I had known I would have brought you some soup."
She hums, cracking a smile. "I'd appreciate the kindness, Fog. I think I should be okay by the end of the day."
“If you say so.” He says, setting his work bag down for a second on the kitchen counter. That made her open her eyes more, and realize he was wearing a suit and tie.
She forces herself to look at the microwave clock and groans into her hands. “And… I’m seven hours late to work.” She mutters, embarrassed. “No wonder you came to check on me.”
He gives her a look of amusement and chuckles. “You seriously didn’t know?”
“Honestly, Foggy, I thought it was still night.”
And I really did think it was last night. It was yet another mission. This time she wanted to find out who this Wilson Fisk guy is that she and No-Eyes found out about after their client killed himself. But to her surprise, these people came in like a stampede and she had to use way more energy than she usually does. She could barely remember even getting home let alone falling on the floor, silently begging for the pain to stop as she blacked in and out of consciousness.
She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you guys worried.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Ann, really. If I had known you were this sick I would have come sooner.”
“No, I…” Anya sighs. “I should have been more aware of the time.” She crosses her arms, mad at herself. “So… anything happened at work?”
“Nope.” Foggy said, popping the ‘p’. “We closed early because of it. So, technically, you really didn’t miss anything.”
“But still, it’s my business too. I need to be there.” She replies, sighing again.
“Again, you didn't miss anything.” He said, reassuringly. “But, I think we’ll get something tomorrow. I got a gut feeling.”
That got her smile and chuckle. “Foggy, it’s Sunday. We’re closed Sundays.”
His face fell. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” She holds back another laugh. “But, you know, if you have a gut feeling…”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, my–” He holds his tongue. “You’re so…” She breaks out another laugh at him struggling to find the right word. “You know, I want to strangle you sometimes.”
“Oh, really?” Anya raises an eyebrow. “Awe, Mr. Nelson. Is this how you treat all the women you know?”
“Only the ones I truly care about, Miss Hughes.” Foggy points out with a gleam in his eye. “You seemed to be feeling better already, but I’ll give you Sunday off so you can rest, okay?”
“Will do, Boss.” She says, with a weak salute. “Now–” She lightly slaps him in the arm. “Go before I puke again.”
“Probably a good call.” He nods as he grabs his bag, sliding the straps on. “But, hey, if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, one of us is dragging your ass to the doctor’s. Okay?”
“Okay.” Anya said, walking with him to the door. “So what’s on the agenda tonight? You going bar hopping for a wife again?”
He snorts. “Eh, maybe not tonight. I could use a break from that eel.”
She opens the door, letting him step out. “You know, Nelson, Landman & Zack’s Goldilocks is still single.” She said, with a mischievous smirk.
He gapes like a fish at her, pointing again. “You’re so mean.”
“What? You don’t want to be called ‘Foggy-Bear’ again?”
He groans loudly and walks down the hallway. “I absolutely do not want to be called that again.”
“Sure you don’t.” Her smile softens, knowing damn well he’s still hung up on his old girlfriend. “Hey, Foggy? Can you text the others to let them know I’m okay?” 
“Already on it. But I don’t know if they’ll even answer.”
She furrowed her brows in a puzzle, leaning against the doorframe. “What do you mean?”
“Good question.” He spins on his heels, walking backwards while replying, “They’re both acting weirder than normal.”
He turns back around, turning a corner to leave towards the elevator. Anya purses her lips, closing her door, wondering what was up with Matt and Karen.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, on the other side of town. The door belonging to an occupied warehouse slammed open, and one of the Russian Brothers, Anatoly, bursts through and descends down the metal stairs to the outside world.
Anatoly tries to hide the panic in his voice as he talks on the phone. “Он здесь!... Как вы думаете, кто?” (*He’s here!... Who do you think?).
He looks behind himself, worriedly. “Нет, я не знаю, как он нас нашел… де мой брат?... Слушай, заткнись!” (*No, I don’t know how he found us… Where’s my brother?... Listen, shut up!).
He rounds the taxi parked outside. “Замолчи! Мне все равно, что он тебе сказал... позвони ему!” (*Shut up! I don’t care what he told you… get him on the phone!)
Anatoly hangs up and gets in the driver seat. Just as he started the car, one of his men fell from above and onto the hood. Broken glass and blood doused the windshield. Not even phased, he backs the taxi up at a high speed, the body rolling off into the road. 
From the second story window, Matt dressed in usual attire listened as he drove off, silently cussing that he let the head Russian get away.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“You’ve been busy.” Claire said, threading the needle through his bloody skin.
“Yeah…”  Matt replies with a soft groan.
“Sorry.” She frowns apologetically. “So, how’s that working out for you?”
He grins. “You should see the other guys.”
“I have.” She points out with a nod. “The one you threw off the roof, at my place? He’s in a coma. Do you know that?”
“Yeah, I heard.”
She pauses to look up at him. “How do you feel about that?”
There was a slight hesitation, but didn’t look too remorseful as he replied, “I’ll live.”
Claire finishes up, sitting up straight in her stool. She opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of something getting knocked over caught her attention.
“Hey!” She hisses at the cat. “Get off the counter!” She snaps, banging on the side table to try to scare it off.
Matt found that funny and chuckled. “Wow, you don’t like cats.”
“I’m allergic.” Claire explains. “I was supposed to be coming in, feeding this guy twice a day while my friend was out of town, not hiding out here using up all my sick days.”
“Just a while longer. Just till we know the Russians aren’t looking for you.” She pauses again, giving him a look that he picked up. “What?”
“You said, ‘We’.”
He nods slowly. “Well… this… ‘May’ person is on the lookout too.”
“Huh.” Claire said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you two weren’t on good terms?”
.
.
““Look–”” She begins, stepping closer. ““I’m not saying we should become partners, but if we’re going to figure out what’s going on here, we should not exactly push each other away. If we come across each other, we just deal with it.””
““And… if we do, we compare notes if we find something?”” He asked, carefully.
She nods once more. ““If you're okay with it, so am I.””
.
.
The memory faded away, the one that still seemed fresh each day since that night. “We came to an agreement. We promise to respect each other's spaces, but also not push each other away either.”
Claire looks at him surprised. “Wow. That’s… That’s interesting. Shocking, really.”
“Tell me about it.” He exhales heavily. “Although, Peaches annoys me, she’s not too bad out in the field.”
“Peaches?”
“Nickname. She smells like them.”
“Well, I don’t remember smelling that. But you’re the one with the super nose.” She replies, before digging around in her medical bag. “Since you two are communicating better, you two should consider getting some kind of body armor. Especially you, you look like you’ve been put through the grinder.”
“It would slow me down too much.”
“So will a bullet.” She says, cleaning the excess blood before putting a gauze over it.
His shit eating grin returns. “You worried about me?” He asked, holding the gauze in place as she grabbed the tape.
“What if I were?”
“I would tell you I’m a big boy, and not to be.”
She copies an expression similar to his. “Right. That’s why you keep ending up here.”
“Well… maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
Claire hums, not fully convinced. “Sure I’m your gal? You haven’t exactly given me a special nickname yet.”
He tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“So what happens the night you come by and I’m already talking to someone else?” She asked, ignoring his question.
“Yeah…” Matt clears his throat, hearing that she was done taping his arm. “It crossed my mind.” He unzips his pants pocket holding out a burner phone for her to take. “Here.”
“Um…” She takes her glove off, taking it. “You shouldn’t have.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t. The burner’s for me. Memorize the number, put yours in. Next time I need to come by, I’ll call.”
“By ‘Come by’–” She gets up walking around the sofa. “Do you mean stumble in, bleeding half to death?” 
Matt catches his shirt she threw at him without looking, and subtly shrugs. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed. You really gotta ease up.” Claire said, cleaning up the mess.
“No–” He groans quietly as he slides his shirt on. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“I can take care of myself, Mike. You know–”
“It’s not just about you. It’s a little more complicated than that.” He said, putting his mask on as she types her number into the burner. “You ever heard the name Wilson Fisk?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Who’s that?”
He frowns as he starts putting his gloves on. “Just a name somebody gave me. But there’s no public record. Nothing on the internet. Not one mention of Fisk.”
“Maybe whoever gave you his name was lying.”
“I would have known if he was.”
“How?” She asked, handing the phone over.
“Heartbeat.” He said, standing up.
“Right, of course. Heartbeat, So, what, you’re just gonna go out there punching whoever you can, hoping to find somebody who knows this Fisk guy?”
“Well, apply enough pressure, someone will break.” He pulls the mask down to cover his eyes, then opens up her window to the fire escape. “Sooner or later.”
He slips through and jumps over the railing, leaving behind a smiling Claire as she shakes her head.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
In a parking garage somewhere in the city, a small group of Russians were peeling off the names on the side of Taxicabs and replacing them with their own. Amongst this mess, the ever so nicely dressed James Wesley arrives at the scene, catching the leaders’ eyes as they strut over to him.
“Oof. Those look like they hurt.” Wesley says, mockingly to Anatoly’s busted up face.
“I’ve had worse.”
“I know how much your people delight in extolling the amount of pain they can endure, but maybe next time you could try ducking?” He continues, ignoring how Anatoly’s face hardened and his brother stepped close to him. “Leland’s finalized the paperwork–”
Wesley hands Vladimir the paperwork, his cold eyes looking over it carefully.
“Prohaszka’s holdings in Kitchen Cab have been acquired and transferred via third party to Veles Taxi. Your distribution infrastructure just doubled.”
“Tell your employer we are grateful.” Anatoly said, biting his hot tongue by saying that.
Wesley notices this but ignores it. “Don’t think he really cares at the moment. You were light again this week.”
Vladimir hands the paperwork over to his brother. “There was a complication.” He replies, truthfully.
“One you assured us you were addressing.”
“Do you know what he was asking?” Vladimir asks, stepping closer. “This fool who laid hands on my brother?”
Wesley shakes his head. “Not my concern.”
“It should be.” Anatoly says, sternly. “He was asking about your employer, by name. And then the night before yesterday, that masked woman was also snooping around for your employer’s name.” 
It didn’t take a genius to see the small shock on Wesley's face before he covered it up. Calmly he says, “All the more reason to settle this. You sneeze, we catch a cold. Madame Gao and Mr. Nobu have expressed their disappointment.”
“We have not heard of this.” Vladimir says, suspicious.
“Hmm.” Wesley shrugs. “That’s because we’ve been talking behind your back, about how the Russians can’t seem to handle one man and one woman running around in masks.” Another shrug. “I mean, if he had an iron suit or a magic hammer, maybe that would explain why you keep getting your asses handed to you–”
“We told you what that woman can do.”
Wesley tilts his head. “Then, find a solution.”
“You wouldn’t be telling me this if you saw this woman who has the strength of men twice her size, and can paralyzed someone with just a touch.” Vladimir hisses through his teeth before getting fed up. “We’re done here.”
The brothers turn around, and start walking back to what they were doing beforehand as Wesley processes what he just said.
“She can paralyze?” He asks, but gets no response. He sighs. “Those two have weakened your operations.”
Vladimir stops to return a glare. “You think us weak?”
“This isn’t personal, Vladimir. It’s business. Distribution of Madame Gao’s product has been affected, which in turn is causing delays in other ventures. This is not acceptable. Fortunately, for all parties, my employer has agreed to help return you to solid footing.”
“How?” Anatoly asked, curious.
“By Aiding you in certain duties deemed vital to the continuation of service–”
Vladimir snickers. “He wants to take over.” He explains, trying to walk away again; But Wesley is like a dog with a bone.
“We value the services you provide, but clearly–” Wesley laughs lightly. “You need help providing them. We’ll all profit nicely under the new structure.”
“How nicely?” Anatoly asked, intrigued. This causes his brother to speak something snappy in Russian to him. 
Vladimir then sighs, saying, “Tell Mr. Fisk–”
“We don’t say his name.” Wesley reminds, watching the Russian clench his jaw and take a threatening step forward. 
“Tell… Mr. Fisk… that if he wants two pounds of flesh… he can come here and carve it himself.”
Wesley looks down, exhaling to hold his underlying anger in. “This is an offer, not an order.” He said, calmly. “The choice of how we proceed is yours. Talk it over with your brother. We’ll be in touch.”
Wesley walks away with some of his bodyguards, leaving the brothers to figure out what to do.
“Маленькая сучка. Обратитесь к Петру.” Vladimir says, bitterly (*Prissy little bitch. Reach out to Piotr).
“Почему?” Anatoly asked (*Why?).
“Почему вы думаете?” (*Why do you think?).
“Если работодатель Уэсли узнает–” (*If Wesley’s employer finds out–).
“Его «работодатель»?” Vladimir asked, fed up by that overused term (*His ‘Employer’?). “Вы знаете, почему Фиск не хочет, чтобы кто-нибудь произносил его имя? Хм? Потому что это выдаст, что он всего лишь мужчина.” (*Do you want to know why Fisk… doesn’t want anyone saying his name? Hmm? Because it would betray that he’s just a man.)
“Вот парень и девушка в масках… и посмотрите, что они с нами сделали.” Anatoly explains, slightly shaken (*So’s the guy and girl in masks… and look what they’ve done to us.)
Vladimir nods in agreement. “Ага.” He says, pondering a moment (*Yeah). “Что мы знаем о них?” (*What do you know about them?)
“Ничего.” Anatoly says with a sigh (*Nothing). “Семен, может быть, и нашел что-то... но спит как убитый.” (*Semyon might have found something… but he sleeps like the dead.)
“Иисус воскрес на третий день... Семен достаточно проспал.” (*Jesus rose the third day… Semyon has slept long enough.)
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The morning followed, and Karen sat across the Bulletin Reporter, Ben Urich, in a small diner across town.
“Did you look at it?” She asked, nervousness on the edge of her words.
“Yeah, I looked at it.” He replies, readjusting himself in the booth.
“And?”
“And… It's a story I’ve heard before. Company gets caught up in a scandal, files for bankruptcy, then quietly restructures under a new name.”
“They killed Daniel Fisher. They tried to kill me.” Karen reminds, putting emphasis on those major words. Was he seriously not getting it?
“I’m still a little unclear on that point.” Urich explains, truthfully. He touches the file on the table. “You say here Rance assaulted you in your apartment. And a man in a black mask, and a woman with purple eyes, saved your life?”
Karen nods slowly, realizing how ridiculous it sounded out loud. “Yes, but they just… they came out of nowhere. I mean… the woman literally phazed through my window. The man just showed up at my door.”
“And you’d never seen them before?”
“No.”
Urich stops and thinks, humming. “Stranger things, right?”
She sighs. “Well, what about Rance? Do you r-really believe that he j-just up and hung himself in jail?” She asked, a horrific memory coming along. “That guard tried to do the same thing to me. Why don’t you ask him?
“Farnum?” Urich asked, after taking a sip of coffee. “He’s dead. Ate the barrel of his gun in his basement.” He watches the horror flash across her face but he keeps going. “And your old boss, McClintock? Overdosed on pills or some such.” He raises an eyebrow. “You seeing a pattern here, Miss Page?”
Of course she did, anyone with a brain could see it plain as day. “Then why isn’t anyone looking into this?” She asked, confused.
He sets his mug down, leaning forward on the table. “You don’t understand how lucky you are. Count the angels on the head of a pin, and move on.”
She blinks. “So they just shuffle some papers and all this disappears?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Oh, don’t bullshit me.” Karen said, almost laughing. “A construction company is brick and mortar, literally. You cannot just shift cranes and trailer and office equipment like you can numbers on a page. There has to be a trail if everything is being liquidated.”
Urich casts his glance down, his wheel turning before deciding to bail. He sets his empty mug down, grabbing his things. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Karen bats her eyes again. “What?” She asked, looking up as he stood. “So that’s it?”
“Stories like this are built on sources, Miss Page. Credible sources. I did some digging into your, uh… past activities.”
Karen holds her tongue at that statement, but she still lets a little steam seep through. “Well, I did some digging, too. I read every big story with your byline. The VA kickbacks, toxic runoff, t-the Teachers Union scandal. Hell… you pretty much brought down the Italian mob back when I was in diapers. What ever happened to that reporter, Mr. Urich?”
That seems to stir something deep inside him. Enough to make the older man a bit teary eyed. “He got old… and a hell of a lot less stupid.” He admits, and wanders off.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
In a hospital surrounded by all the life support equipment you could imagine, lies one of the Russians’ “clean up” members. Coming through the door with a bouquet of flowers and a balloon that was soon tossed aside by the brothers. They came to stand in front of the bed taking the terrible sight in.
“Боже мой.” Anatoly mumbles in shock (*My god).
“Дай мне комплект.” Vladimir said after a moment (*Give me the kit).
Anatoly hands him the kit before starting to move anything ‘unnecessary’ out of the way. “Это может убить его.” (*This could kill him.)
“Семена обычно посылают на такую ​​работу. Он бы понял.” Vladimir explains, calmly (*Semyon’s usually the one we send for this sort of work. He’d understand.)
Vladimir gets out a bottle of epinephrine and a syringe, while Anatoly detaches the pulse oximeter and ventilator. 
Vladimir starts putting the syringe together while asking, “Вы получили ответ от Петра?” (*You hear back from Piotr?)
Anatoly nods, shakily replying with, “Сказал, что позвонит, когда у него будет что-нибудь о перемещениях Фиска. Фиск осторожен. Если он заподозрит–” (*Said, he’d call when he had something on Fisk’s movements. Fisk is cautious. If he suspects–)
“И что? Чего ты так боишься?” (*Then what? What are you so afraid of?)
“Мы были в этой адской дыре три года.” Anatoly says, bitterly while showing off three fingers. (*We were in that hellhole for three years.) “От московских князей... до гадения в ведро. Я пообещал себе, что если мы когда-нибудь освободимся... мы больше никогда не потеряем то, что у нас было. Тем более не гордиться.” 
(*From princes of Moscow… to shitting in a bucket. I promise myself If we ever got free… we’d never lose what we had again. Especially not to pride.)
Vladimir fills the needle replying, “Когда у нас ничего не было, мы обо всем договаривались.” (*Back when we had nothing, we agreed on everything.)
His brother scoffs. “Мы заблудились... в этой богатой стране.” (*We’ve lost our way… in this land of riches.)
“Тогда давай найдем его снова... вместе.” (*Then let’s find it again… together.)
Vladimir sets the empty bottle down, waiting for a nod before stabbing Semyon in the chest, pushing the drug inside. He pulls it out, setting it on the tray. They waited a few moments before locking eyes with each other, confused.
“Вы уверены… что это был адреналин?” Vladimir asked, worried (*You sure… this was epinephrine?). His question gets answered on cue when the comatosed man starts gasping and flailing around. “Вытащите его трубку.” (*Get his tube out).
Anatoly quickly pulls the tube out of the man’s throat, spit flying everywhere when he removes the mouthpiece. “Семен. Это мы, Анатолий и Владимир.” He says, trying to sound soothing (Semyon. It’s us, Anatoly and Vladimir).
Vladimir shakes his head when he sees his man taking deep breaths. “Вот так… Дыши… Дыши… и расскажи нам о людях, которые сделали это с тобой.” (*That’s it… Breathe… Breathe… and tell us about the people who did this to you.)
“Дьявол. Дьявол.” Semyon gasps, scared (*The devil. The devil).
The brothers shared a look.
“Был ли это просто человек в маске?” Anatoly asked, puzzled (*Was it just the masked man?).
Semyon made a noise that sounded like a no, before wheezing, “Дама была там. Светящийся... как призрак.” (*The lady was there. Glowing… like a ghost.)
“Призрак?” Vladimir said, brows together in confusion. He’s never heard the vigilante woman be described like that before (*Ghost?).
“Вы видели что-нибудь? Семен? Что-нибудь, что могло бы помочь нам найти их?” Anatoly asked, ignoring his brother’s question (*Did you see anything? Semyon? Anything that could help us find them?).
“С ними была женщина. Была женщина с дьяволом и его дамой…” Semyon gasps (*There was a woman with them. There was a woman with the devil and his lady…)
Semyon waits for Vladimir to lean in to whisper something before passing on to the other side.
With cold eyes, Vladimir says, “Get Sergei on the phone.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Anya popped a few pills in and took a swig of her drink. She nearly gagged at the taste, but she read online it helps an upset stomach so she’ll have to deal with it. 
“How are you feeling?” Someone concernedly asked her.
She looks up from her spot on the precinct bench, finding her friend hovering close by. She flashes him a quick smile. “I’m doing alright. Better than before.”
“If you say so.” Matt said, coping her expression as he shifted down to sit next to her. “Wasn’t sure if you’d make it down here, if I’m being honest.”
She gives a dry chuckle, because she wasn’t sure if she was going to make it either. Her dizzy spells had subsided, but her nausea came in waves.
“I had to make some effort since I fucked up yesterday.” Anya said, making him laugh.
“You didn’t fuck up, Ann.” He replies, reassuringly but he hears her shaking her head. 
“Dude, I didn’t even call. I missed a whole work day.”
“You were sick. It happens.”
“Yeah, but I still should have called.” She takes a sip of her drink, wincing.
“Maybe you should have stayed home. I mean we aren’t even supposed to be working today.” He said, frowning apologetically.
“Oh, yeah…” Anya realizes, facing him. “Why did you get me out of bed? I thought you cared about me, Murdock.”
Matt grins at her teasing. “Oh, you know me. Mr. Meanie Murdock.”
“Yeah, you jerk.” She taps his shoulder with hers, taking another swig. “Ugh…”
His eye brows shoot up above his shades. “That bad?” 
“Oh, yeah. You can probably smell how strong it is.”
“Oh, definitely.” He said, honestly. The ginger in the beverage was strong, overwhelming (And she unknowingly agreed to this statement), but didn’t mention that out of politeness. “Why not drink some Ginger ale?”
“I wish I could. It doesn’t really do much for me anymore. I drank so much of that as a kid, I think I became immune.” She replies, frowning.
That was her mother’s solution for everything. Soda and skipping her next few meals; While her father on the other hand, never wanted to give her any kind of medicine when she overdid it with her abilities. He told her to ‘tough it out’, because she was a soldier. She wasn’t allowed to feel weak, wasn’t allowed to show weakness when she was forced to let him do his experiments on her. She wasn’t supposed to–
“Ann?” Matt touched her forearm, his contact making her jolt. He felt those fearful emerald eyes on him, and her heartbeat still pounding against her chest, ready to take a leap out of it. 
“W-What…?” She mutters, shakily.
“Are you okay? You spaced out?” He asked, worriedly.
“I… I did…?”
His brows furrowed together. “Yeah. You did.”
“I…” She chokes, quietly. “I didn’t realize that…”
“Ann?”
“Hmm…?”
“You’re shaking.”
“I… am…?” She looks down to find her hands trembling. She didn’t even realize she was. “Oh…”
Matt finds himself growing before carefully taking the bottle from her hand, setting it down on the floor. He then takes her two hands into his, sensing her dazing off again. He gives her quivering palms a gentle squeeze.
“Anya?” He says, softly, quietly. “Hey. Can you look at me?” She hums again. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?” It takes his words a minute to register, but she did. “There you go.” He smiles gently. “Do you know where you are?”
“Um…” She swallows, slowly hearing the chattering in the background. “T-The… the police precinct…?”
“Yeah, you are.” He pushes a few stray hairs away from her face when she started spacing out again. “Can you come back to me here? Please?”
Anya closes her eyes, taking a moment to take a few deep breaths.
In and out. 
In and out.
In and out.
Her heart starts to level out along with her breathing. 
“There you go.” Matt said, her eyes opening. “You okay?”
She exhales again and nods. “Yeah.” She replies, truthfully. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He mentally sighs with relief. “You scared me for a second.”
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, feeling guilty.
“No, no. Don’t be.” He says, delicately. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
“I just…” She sighs. “I just hate… spacing out into… that.”
“I know. But it’s a perfectly normal reaction for someone who went through–” He pauses to search for the right word. Abuse. He wanted to say abuse. But even he still was kept in the dark of what happened to his friend in her childhood, so he kept it cleaner. “What you went through. I know it’s hard, but don’t hate yourself for something you can’t control.”
And that’s what made her love Matt as a friend. Even though he doesn’t know the full extent of what she went through, he was still always by her side no matter what happened. He was there for her on her good days and her bad days; Just like she was with him.
“You’re too good for me, Matty.” She replies, quietly, meaningfully.
He smiles again. “I could say the same thing about you.”
Comforting silence overcame them, taking a moment to enjoy it. They both didn’t realize they were still holding hands until Matt subconsciously brushed his thumbs over her knuckles. Their breaths hitched as their eyes locked. Those milky brown and burning green orbs held a little spark, a feeling they’ve been suppressing since they were young. Their noses were practically touching; Plumped lips just a centimeter away–
“Hey.” Foggy said, strolling by, getting their (flustered) attention (Anya pulls back, hiding her reddened face in her shoulder as Matt clears his throat; Their friend is still oblivious to their interaction). “You guys okay? You ready to check this client out?”
Matt looks at her again. “You okay? Or do you want to go home?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” He asked, getting a hum as a reply. “Okay.”
It took them a second again to realize that they were still holding hands, before letting go. They both stood up, smoothing out their clothes. Taking a small step away.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Anya said, putting her game face on.
Matt copies with a nod. “Yep. Let’s get another client.”
It finally dawns on Foggy what happened, and opens his mouth to speak–
“Is he in the first room like always, Foggy?” Anya asked, starting to walk by him.
“Yeah, but–”
“Great. Let’s go, boys.”
Foggy bats his eyes, spinning on his heels to watch her walk on without even thinking to stop and wait. “But–”
“She’s not stopping.” Matt said, coming up next to him.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Foggy replies, looking at him now, puzzled. “Soooo… you and Anya–”
He holds his hand up. “Nothing happened. I was just helping her.”
The dirty blond raises an eyebrow. “Helping her? How?” He lowers his voice to say, “By eye fucking her?” That got his friend to blush and get hit in the calf by his cane. “Ow…”
“I w-was not…” Matt stutters, face the color of his shades. “N-not doing that. I can’t even see, you know?”
Foggy gives him a knowing look. “Even if you can’t, you can still see it in those eyes.”
He groans. “Foggy–”
“Come on, Matty.” Foggy gives him those puppy eyes. “Can you atleast… ask her out on a date? Go for coffee, that's just the two of you? I mean, I see how you look at her. That’s not a look a friend gives to another.”
Matt licks his lips, nervously, readjusting his stance. “She had an episode, Foggy.”
His face fell immediately. “Oh.” Foggy shifts uncomfortably, crossing his arms in a serious manner. “How bad was it?”
“Not… too bad like last time. She just spaced out this time.”
“I see.”
Matt sighs, grip tightening and loosening around his stick’s handle. “It’s my fault. I said something I shouldn’t have said.”
“Matt, it happens. Don’t take it to heart.” 
“I know, but still. She’s my friend.”
“Which is exactly why I say you should go for it.” Foggy continues, and cuts off his partner when he tries to deny. “You can’t deny these hazel eyes, Matt. They see all, and all the truth.”
Matt tries to spew denial again, but decides otherwise. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Yes.” Foggy said, pumping his fist and getting a smile out of it. “And please do. I can’t stand those… googly eyes.”
“Again, I can’t see.” Matt said, with a chuckle. “But one of us still needs to take her home. Just in case.” 
“Way ahead of you, lover-boy.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Cruising along the streets of the kitchen, the man we finally know the name of was lost in thought as his right hand explained everything going on, carefully shredding the dangerous waters of his boss’s mind.
“Anatoly may be the way in.” Wesley begins, glasses in hand. “He seems more amenable to the proposition, or at least not quite as… vitriolic as his brother.”
“Well…” Fisk says with a slight nod. “Confrontations can be expensive. I’d prefer to handle this quietly. How are we on the timeline?”
“Within a reasonable margin. Assuming we can settle with the Russians quickly.”
“We will. One way or another.”
“What about the masked idiots?”
This causes Fisk to sigh. “If the brothers can’t handle them, I’ll find another solution.” He replies as the car comes to a stop. He starts to get out, only to then grab Wesley by the arm. “No. You stay with the car.”
“Sir–” Wesley said, worriedly.
“I need to attend to this alone.” His pupil hesitates, but complies. “Thank you, Wesley.”
Fisk enters the art gallery from the other night, taking a easy stroll around, eyes searching for that special someone. That special someone who finds him first.
The brunette woman flashes a smile. “Well, hello there.”
“Hello.”
“How are you enjoying ‘Rabbit in a Snowstorm’?” She asked, coming over.
“You remember.” He said, bashful.
“Of course… it’s one of my favorite pieces.”
“I hung it in my bedroom.” He replies, taking a small step forward. “It’s the last thing I see every night.”
“That’s either very romantic or very sad.”
“I like to tell myself it’s the former.”
She chuckles. “Don’t we all?”
“I wanted…” He trails off, nervously. He takes another step forward. “I wanted to thank you for it… personally.”
“That’s really not necessary, but you’re welcome.” Her smile grew brighter. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
He shakes his head. “No, I…” Fisk takes a step back, recollecting. “Yes. I was actually wondering if you cared to join me for dinner.”
“I’m the only one working here tonight.”
“That’s okay.” He replies, rubbing his hands together. “Another time then.” He walks away.
She tilts her head, amused. “That’s it?” She asked, chuckling. “You’re not gonna offer to buy every painting in here so I can close up early? A guy actually tried that once.”
Fisk lets that sink in and walks back over. “A woman that can be bought… isn’t worth having.”
That line seemed to win her over. “I’m partial to Italian.”
“We agree on more than art.” He replies, smiling.
She holds out her hand. “Vanessa.”
Shocked by the move but he still takes it, giving her a light shake. “W-Wilson.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Back at her ‘hideout’, Claire was placing a bowl of food for her friend’s cat. She walks away to blow her nose, quickly taking note that the feline wasn’t touching it.
“Eat it, you little bastard.” She says, sniffling
Claire starts trying to take her allergy pills only to hear scraping and rattling outside her door. Carefully she takes her phone out, and quietly walks towards the front, peaking through the peephole. Luckily, all she saw was an older woman pushing a cart full of groceries. She chuckles at her paranoid self, and finishes taking her pills, unaware of the ever growing silhouette outside the window.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The lawyer trio walked outside into the night, annoyance written on all their faces. They were supposed to be home relaxing, enjoying their day off; But when they got a call from Brett saying they had another potential client, they couldn’t say ‘No’. Which… you probably guess how that went.
“My mom wanted me to be a butcher, you know that?” Was the first thing Foggy said, making his friends sigh.
“Oh, not the butcher story.” Matt said, casting his head down.
“Oh, Jesus…” Anya mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I said, ‘No, Mom, I want to be a lawyer’. I don’t remember what I said next.” Foggy continues, stringing them along the sidewalk.
“No, you never do.” The blind man replies with.
“But I’m fairly certain it wasn’t about bailing out a piss-drunk electrician who nearly burned his house down. Let’s cross.” He guides Matt across the street with Anya following next to them.
“Ed’s wife left him, Foggy. It was an accident.” She says, before pondering on that. “Admittedly involving cigarettes and gasoline, but still.”
“I could be carving my own corned beef. Making my own pickles, having a little shop of my own.”
“You got your own office.” Matt points out.
“We have office space. An actual office would involve… plantery and equipment, fax machines or whatever successful people use.” Foggy explains as they finally cross the street, stopping on the sidewalk.
Matt chuckles. “I don’t think they use fax machines anymore.”
“How would I know? Which is endemic to the problem.” Foggy faces them. “Guys, what if we’re doing this all wrong? What if Landman and Zack were the way to go?”
“You hated interning there.” Matt and Anya reply in sync.
“I hated being broke, and that is still creepy.” He said, pointing between the two.
“Come on, Fog, you think Landman and Zack would have helped out Ed?” Anya asked, watching him take a step off the curb to look for a cab.
“No. But they had free bagels... every morning.” Foggy replies, making them laugh a little. “And they had furniture that didn't smell like a pack of cigarettes. And elevators…” He blissfully sighs. “God, I miss the elevators.”
“We're doing good here, Foggy.” Matt reassures him.
“Are we?” He asked, hailing a cab.
“Yeah, we're making a difference.” 
“If you say so.” He opens the cab door just as Matt’s (burner) phone starts to ring. “You coming, Hughes?”
“We’re splitting the fairs, aren’t we?” She teased making him snort. “Matt, you coming?” Nothing. “Matt?”
Foggy raises an eyebrow. “You get a new phone? Can we afford that?”
Matt answers the phone saying, “Hey, one sec.” He covers the phone with his hand. “ Guys, I'll see you tomorrow.”
“It's a girl, isn't it?  You got a new phone just for your girls.” Foggy said, shaking his head. “My life sucks.” He gets into the cab.
“Don’t stay out too late, lover boy.” Anya poked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She gets in as well as he nods.
“Get home safe.” Matt replies, the door closing. Once he hears that he brings the phone back to his ear. “Hey, what's up?” But all he heard was ruckus on the other end. “Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” He hears her scream on the other end. “Claire!”
Without any hesitation, Matt took off running.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Get home safe.” They heard him say before they closed the door.
Foggy quickly tells the driver where to go before settling down with a heavy sigh. He casts a gaze to his college friend who was trying to look preoccupied (probably because she knew what he was going to ask).
“So when are you going to ask him out?” He asked, point blank.
She bats her eyes his way. “What? Ask who?”
“Matt.” He watches her groan as her cheeks flushed pink (Which she tried to hide by looking away). He throws his hand up. “Come on, you’re like… hung up on him.”
“We’re just friends, Foggy.” She replies, even though it stung. “I’m sure Matt doesn’t see me as anything else if he’s interested in other women.”
Foggy gives her a look. “You don’t know that. Maybe he’s thinking just like you.”
Anya chuckles dryly. “You don’t know that, man.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He lies, which she completely missed. “But, I still think you should at least ask him out on a date, OR–” He pressures before she cuts in. “Subtly confess.”
“And if he turns me down because he doesn’t feel the same way…?” 
“Then, friend or not, I will come after him for hurting you. End of story.” 
Another laugh. “With your… fisticuffs?” 
He smiles. “With my fisticuffs.”
She sighs fondly and lays her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, big bro.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “I’m not that much older, you know.”
“Sure.” She hums at the comfortable silence, which was eventually broken when he said,
“I still think you should say something to him. I think you guys could be really happy together.”
She frowns. “I don’t think I could make him happy in that way.”
He raises an eyebrow, knowing damn well they could be really happy together since they both told him that they liked each other (although, he would never rat one or the other out). “But Matt loves you already as a friend. What are you so afraid of?”
What am I afraid of? She stays silent at his question, not wanting to tell him what she was truly terrified of.
Well… 
.
.
.
I’m afraid my past will be too much for him.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Karen sits in on one of the back rows of an auction house. She subtly looks around, holding her sketchbook close, listening half heartedly too. She was there for one thing and one thing only. Investigating. 
The Auctioneer starts rambling, pointing at an item on the screen. “5 and now 50. - 50 right there, and now 55. 55,000 here. - Now 60. 60,000. Who will bid 60,000? Do I have 60,000? - 55, going once, going twice. Sold for 55,000. Next up, lot 87… Liquidation of Union Allied Construction LLC.”
She keeps her reaction to that mellow, and places her pencil an inch above the paper, waiting.
“Forty-two desktops with Thunderbolt display, 14 copy machines, 62 IP phones, as well as supporting equipment listed in your catalog. Estimated value, 540,000. - We'll start the bidding at 70,000. Do I hear 70,000?”
Karen watches an older gentleman raise his paddle and starts sketching him, which she would repeat with everyone else following.
“70,000 right here, and now 75. - 75,000? I have 75 over here, and now 80. Do I have 80,000? - 80,000. 80,000 in the back, thank you. And now 90…”
Unknowingly to the blonde, Ben Urich had sat down behind her, looking distracted. 
“Stop what you're doing. Don't turn around.” He says just above a whisper, making her freeze up. “This is how you get caught.”
“The hell do you care?” She replies, cold.
“To your right, a woman in a white blouse–” He begins, almost jolting from his seat when she starts to turn. “Eyes front. Jesus!” He sighs. “To your left, a man in a navy blue pinstripe suit.”
Karen quickly takes note of both. “Who are they?”
“Don't know. But they aren't bidding either.”
She scans the room with her eyes again, swallowing. “What do I do?”
“Spend the next hour raising your paddle. Win something. One of the smaller lots.” Was his suggestion.
She frowns. “I don't have any money.”
“Figure it out. Meet me at the diner when you're done.”
“How did you know I was here?” Nothing. “Ben?”
She quickly glances behind, finding the seat empty. She sucks in a breath as the bid finishes, trying to figure out how the fuck she was going to do this.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Anya already shedded her work clothes off and was slowly starting to put on her nightly ones. She fiddled with the straps on her cargo pants while thinking over her routine.
I should take it easy tonight. I shouldn’t use my abilities. No phasing, no paralyzing. Maybe use a little energy to escalate somewhere high, but keep it simple.
She nods at that, and slips on her hoodie. 
And maybe… not do the eyes unless I come across someone. That should help lessen my chance of getting sick again.
She lets out a sigh, one that was mixed with frustration and exhaustion. She was supposed to be this ‘extraordinary’ soldier with powers, she wasn’t supposed to pass out after reaching a ‘limit’. 
But again, I’m a girl who had a father who wanted to be a god. Jesus. She quickly braids her hair before tying the bandana over her mouth. She shakes her head.
Okay, gotta stop thinking about that. I need to relax and focus tonight. I gotta take it easy. She slipped on her boots and gloves, then opened up her window. She lets the cool breeze hit her face, welcoming her into the night. She smirks.
Alright. Let’s do this.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
In Claire’s trashed apartment, a young man, Santino, sat on the floor also banged up. His panting increases when he hears someone entering the room.
“It's okay. It's me, Santino.” Matt says, slowly coming over to crouch down in front of him. He pulls up his glasses, slowing off his features. “¿Me recuerdas?” (*Do you remember me?)
“Sí.”  Santino shakes his head, still trembling despite recognizing him. 
“Claire fue llevada por gente muy mala. Los oí decir su nombre. Necesito su ayuda. Por favor.” (*Claire's been taken by some very bad people. I heard them say your name. I need your help. Please.)
He sobs, looking ashamed. “No dije nada. No al principio. me llevaron al techo como tú lo hiciste con el hombre…Me dijeron si le decía algo a alguien… volverán por mi madre.” (*I didn't say anything. Not at first. Then they took me up to the roof like you did with that man… they told me if I said anything to anyone… they'd come back for my mother.)
“¿Sabes a dónde llevaron a Claire?” Matt asked, hopefully (*Do you know where they took Claire?).
Santino shook his head again. “No. Lo siento. Esos hombres la van a golpear por mi culpa.” (*No. I'm sorry… Those men are going to hurt her because of me.)
“No, no es tu culpa, Santino. Es mío.” Matt assures, touching his chest (*No, it’s not your fault, Santino. It’s mine). “¿Hay algo más que hayas oído o visto? ¿Algo que me pueda ayudar a encontrarla?” (*Is there anything else you heard or saw? Anything that might help me find her?)
The boy nods while thinking. “Los vi entrar en un taxi. Pero no por atrás, por delante. Como si fueran de ellos.” (*I saw them get into a taxi. But not in the back, in the front. Like it was theirs.)
“¿Cuál fuera compañía? ¿Viste el nombre?” (*What was the company? Did you see a name?)
He nods again, saying, “Veles. Veles Taxi.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Anya sat down on a rooftop ledge, scanning the skyline and listening carefully for anything out of the ordinary. She only perks up when she catches a whiff of the familiar scent of axe body spray.
She cocks her head, but doesn’t look back. “No-Eyes?” She calls out, sensing him coming closer.
“Are you doing anything?” Matt asked, urgently, his light footsteps seemed louder (Angier) than usual.
“No. I was taking it easy tonight.” Anya replies, fully facing him. “Why?”
“The Russians got Claire.”
Her eyes widened. “What?” She stands up. “You got a lead?”
“Santino told me that they saw the men who supposedly took her get into a taxi with the name, ‘Veles Taxi’.” He replies, sensing her respond to that name. “Ring a bell?”
“Sounds familiar.” She starts jogging her brain, conjuring up a memory from her childhood. “I got it.” She started walking towards the direction she thought of, and he was following closely behind. “It might be a long shot, and hopefully it’s still there, but I remember seeing this place in my childhood.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
At a fancy restaurant in the nicer part of Hell’s Kitchen, Fisk sat across from Vanessa, tasting the wine the (nervous looking) waiter poured.
“Yes.” He says, taking a liking to the taste. The waiter then pours some into his date’s glass. “I hope you like it.”
Vanessa picks up her glass, smelling the aroma before taking a sip. “It's delicious.” She says, with a smile.
“I don't know much about wine.” Fisk admits. “My assistant, he recommended it.”
“Maybe I should be out with him.” She teased, but didn't see him laughing. “That was a joke.”
“Yes… of course.”
She chuckles. “A bad one, but... mmm... You don't do this much, do you?”
“No. I've been preoccupied–” He fiddles with his cufflinks. “for a long time.”
Vanessa watches him closely before saying. “This is nice. I didn't even know it was here.”
“Yes, it just opened last month.”
“The city's really changing.”
“Not fast enough.”
“I don't know. Be a shame to see all the character scrubbed away.”
“You didn't grow up here, did you?”
She laughs again. “What gave it away?”
Fisk smiles for a split second. “When I was a kid, I used to dream what it would be like to…” He stops to think. “To live somewhere far away from Hell's Kitchen. Somewhere beautiful.”
“What made you stay?” Vanessa asked, curiously.
“I didn't. When I was 12 years old, my mother, she sent me to stay with relatives. Had a farm, middle of nowhere. Those were good years.”
“But you came back.”
“Yes. Time and distance, they afford a certain clarity. I realized that this city was a part of me, that it was in my blood. And I would do anything to make it a better place… for people like you.”
That made her smile fondly at him, and raised her glass. She waits for him to follow before saying, “To a better place.”
Then they both toast with their wine glasses.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, poor Claire was slammed to the floor, face covered in blood and deep bruises. She was soon picked back up and thrown into the side of a cab, letting her whole body slide to the floor. She started coughing roughly as the Russains looked at her with rage.
“You answer, he stops hitting you. Everyone is happy.” One said, and she shook her head.
“I told you… I don't know who they are…” She croaks, breathing heavily and sits on the ground.
Sergei clenches his jaw and slams the baseball bat in the window next to her head. She screams as the glass shatters around her.
“Tell me their names.” He hisses, tightening his grip on the weapon.
Claire whimpers and mouths, “I don't know.” Then whispers, “They never told me…” She screams again when the bat hits the cab. “They never told me!!”
One of the Russians stops Sergi from going again. “Сергей... Владимир сказал нам ��е убивать ее, пока она не заговорит.” (*Sergei...Vladimir told us not to kill her until she talks.)
Sergei frowns, sighing. “This gives me no pleasure. It really doesn't. But I have been given a job to do. So please, answer the questions that I was told to ask.” He holds the baseball bat under her chin, lifting it up. “Or I will begin breaking you, a piece at a time.”
Suddenly, the lights go out.
Sergei looks around before facing one of his men. “Михаил, проверь выключатель. Проверьте прерыватель!” (*Mikhail, check the breaker. Check the breaker!)
Claire starts sobbing as the men scramble to turn the lights on. Eventually, some of them just started turning the lights underneath the taxis on. Soon, the quiet chattering started getting louder, before someone started screaming.
“Mikhail? Mikhail!” 
Claire throws her head back, laughing like a maniac. “You want to know their names? Ask them yourself.”
There was a loud rattling noise that seemed to encase everyone present. Everyone looked around nervously, trying to find the source of the sound. Claire, knowing what’s going on, slumped down further in her spot, protecting herself.
The rattling turned out to be some wiring, which soon wrapped itself around one of the Russians’ feet and dragged them across the garage floor. Upon contact he started shooting off his gun, creating a domino effect. 
Bullets were falling like they were raindrops, all targeting in areas they swear they heard a noise. The vigilantes stayed in the dark, hidden from their eyes as they attacked when they spotted an opening. Matt was throwing anything he could get his hands on, while Anya was freezing anybody that got close. 
Sergei, who was wandering around nervously, was watching the silhouettes of his men disappear into the darkness.
He bites his lip and grabs Claire. “Up.” He snaps, and tries to leave.
“Let her go.” Matt said, his voice echoing off the walls.
“I'm walking out of here.” He says, pointing the gun in different directions.
“No, you aren't.”
“I'm not playing with you, man. I'm walking out of here… I'll blow her brains out!!!”
“My acquaintance isn’t playing around either.”
Anya lands on top of a nearby taxi, startling him. Out of instinct he shot off a bullet, which misses a vital spot on her skin when she phases. The vigilante watches as the man becomes pale and shocked, taking a small step back as she glares with her glowing eyes.
“Призрак.” Sergei mumbles, shakily (*Ghost).
Matt comes up from behind, apprehending Sergei’s arm in an armbar. The Russian shoots a bullet scaring Claire, who was soon pulled free by Anya. Matt twists his arm making him cry and drop the weapon.
“You okay?” Anya whispers, painfully as she leans against the cab. But she doesn’t get an answer when she watches the nurse reaching for–
“It hurts, doesn't it? Being in pain, being afraid–” Matt whispers, darkly.
To his (and really anyone’s) surprise, Claire grabbed the baseball bat and hit Sergei over the head with it. The world got quiet again, except for the sound of the aluminum bat dropping and Claire’s hurtful sobbing.
Matt’s whole demeanor changed, immediately pulling her into a comforting hug. “It's okay.” He says, cradling her head, making her sob harder. “I'm here. I have you.”
While this was happening, Anya was dealing with a spinning world again. She suddenly felt her veins running hotter than usual and her heart pounding even more than before. And she got really, really nauseous. She couldn’t stop herself this time…
She pulled her mask down and vomited up acid.
Matt and Claire pulled apart upon the sound, and looked in her direction.
“Are you okay?” Matt asked, worriedly as he finally started fully taking notice of her condition. The hefty panting and the heavy heartbeats. It was… overwhelming; Painful sounding. “Peaches?”
“May–” Claire begins, taking her in. “You’re… you look like you’re… glitching.”
Anya was shaking, shaking badly. But Claire had a point, she looked like she was a computer glitch. Her whole body would phase in and out, almost causing her to slip through the taxi her hand was laying against. She felt like she was about to pass out.
“I’m…” Anya chokes, and hunches over again when the nausea returns.
“You’re shaking.” Matt said, taking a step forward. “Let me–”
“N-No…” She winces. “Y-You can’t… d-do anything…” She bit her tongue when she felt her head starting to pound like a hammer. “I j-just… have to… l-let it pass.”
“Peaches–”
“I-I have to let it pass.” She says, sounding like she was being tortured.
She has to let it pass? What does that mean? Matt frowns, severely concerned. 
Is this supposed to be normal?
“May, what’s going on? Why do you have to let it pass?” Claire asked, the nurturing side of her coming out, making her take a step towards her as well.
“I-I…” Anya pants, feeling like she was about to cry. “I overdid it. My abilities. I overdid it…”
“What?”
“Overdid? Is this normal?” Matt asked, deciding not to give her any more space, and walked over. “Is that why you said you were taking it easy tonight? Why didn’t you–”
“N-No-eyes…” Anya pants, her orbs landing on their nurse friend. “You got Claire?”
Matt tilts his head, confused. “Yeah, I got her. But–”
“Get her to safety.”
“What? What about– hey!”
Before he could stop her, Anya had used all her strength to push off the vehicle and run. She never stopped once no matter how many times they begged her to stop and come back.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Karen arrived at the diner, sliding in the booth across from Ben. She was still looking around nervously like earlier; Afraid of getting caught or chased by the people who worked for her old employer. 
“You bid on anything?” He asked, while eating some eggs with a dab of hot sauce.
“Yeah. Some, uh... office equipment from a realtor. Nearly as old as I am.” She said, waving from the waitress.
“Win?”
“Yeah, 3,500 I don't have. I charged it to the law firm where I work. Probably just got my ass fired.”
“Beats the alternative.”
The waitress comes up with a steaming pot. “More coffee?”
“Uh, can I have a decaf?” Karen asked, politely.
“Oh, sure thing.” She walks away.
“Thanks.” Karen takes a brief moment to gather her thoughts. “How did you know I was gonna be there?” She asked, suspicious.
“Wasn't looking for you.” Urich replies, truthfully, as the waitress pours Karen’s coffee.
“I thought you weren't interested.” She said, realizing he was being honest.
“I said you should move on. Didn't say anything about me.”
“So I was right. About the office equipment. Union Allied or whatever it is that they're calling themselves now, they're buying it back. I mean, you follow that, maybe you find the guy behind the curtain.”
Urich pauses and puts his fork down to give her his whole attention. “You said you read a bunch of my articles. Remember the one about the, uh... the runoff? What that company was dumping into the river?”
“Yeah, sure.” She said, grabbing some sugar for her drink.
“Fished the guy that tipped me off out of that same river a month later.” Urich explains, watching her try to hide her discomfort. “And that fella trying to clean up the Teachers Union? Moved out of state… after flyers went up saying he was a pedophile. They underestimated what people in power will do to stay there. Didn't think you'd make the same mistake after what happened to you.”
Karen nervously takes a sip of her drink. “What about the woman? From your first series of articles about the VA? What happened to her?”
He frowns. “She met the worst fate.” He sits up straighter. “Married beneath her...to a workaholic who never appreciated her.”
Karen’s body slacked at the weight of his words. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–”
“We need to be smart. Smarter than they are.” Urich explains, seriously. “Don't visit me at the office anymore, and don't tell anyone else about this. If that doesn't work for you, get up and get the hell out of my life”.
She nods. “That works for me.”
“Good.” He clears his throat, leaning forward again. “First thing, sign the agreement from the Union Allied lawyer.”
“What? No!” She shakes her head. “No, I sign that, I can't ever talk publicly about this.”
“Yeah… but I'm not signing it.”
And those words made her smile.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Back at the garage, the brothers returned with some of their men, shocked upon what they found. Their teammates were scattered across the ground, some still unconscious while others were getting up at snail like pace.
“Сергей. Сергей…” Vladimir says, crouching down to his man. “Кто это сделал?” (*Sergei. Sergei… Who did this?)
“Мужчина и женщина в черном…” Sergei says, clearing his throat (*The man and woman in black…).
Anatoly’s phone rings and he quickly picks up. “…Хорошо. Оставайся там.” (*…All right. Stay there.) He looks at his brother. “Это был Петр. Фиск вышел из укрытия. Нам нужна его помощь, брат.” (*That was Piotr. Fisk has come out of hiding. We need his help, brother.)
“Я не преклонюсь перед этим человеком!” Vladimir says, bitterly as he stands up (*I will not bow before that man!).
“Тогда я пойду... И поклонюсь за нас обоих.” (*Then I will go...And bow for both of us.)
Vladimir looks away, thinking it over quickly. What other choice do they have at this point? He clenches his jaw, facing him again. “Идти. Заключить сделку.” (*Go. Make the deal.)
And with those words…
He only wishes he realized what he had just done.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Are you sure about dessert?” Fisk asked, a smile stretched across his face. “They have an incredible Zuppa Inglese.”
She copies his expression. “Don't children have that at birthday parties?” Vanessa teased, making them both laugh.
“Yes. When I was a kid, I loved it… Probably loved it a bit too much.”
“Well, now I have to know what it tastes like. You wanna split one?”
“Yes.” He gestures for the waiter who rushes over. “We'll have a Zuppa.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Chocolate was always my downfall.” Vanessa whispers like a secret. “Milk chocolate, not the dark stuff they say is better for you.”
“I can order something else.” He assures, and she shakes her head.
“No, no, it's good to try new things. Get out of the comfort zone.”
“Yes, we get caught up in what we're doing… who we think we are.”
“So…” Vanessa begins, curious what’s on his mind. “Who are you, Wilson?”
“Tonight, I'm just a man... enjoying the company of a captivating woman.” He says, getting her to show her pearly whites once more. But there moment won’t last long when Antaloy suddenly shows up, Wesley on his tail.
“I told you he's indisposed.” Wesley says, trying to stop him but he’s shaken off. 
“Sir, I need to speak with you.” Anatoly announces, bodyguards standing in his way.
“What is this?” Vanessa asked, worriedly as her date stood up (making the whole restaurant stand up as well in fear).
Fisk moves one of his guards out of the way to get to her. “We need to go... now. I'm sorry.” He said, truly apologetic. He guides her towards the door, the Russian still trying to get through.
“I want to tell you, my brother and I, we gratefully accept–” Anatoly continues, being sincere about his words.
“Wesley will take care of you.” Fisk tells him, before whispering to his assistant, “Put him in a car.”
“Understood.” Wesley said, knowing where this will end.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Promise you won't get mad.” Karen said to Foggy, who came back to the office to drop a few things off (he wasn’t expecting to see her until tomorrow).
“You bought a fax machine? From the early '90s.” Foggy asked, finding irony in since he was literally complaining to Matt and Anya about having a machine earlier.
“Oh, it's not that old... I think.” She says, nervously. “Um, but the rest of the stuff's coming tomorrow.”
“The rest?”
“Yeah, like, a printer and conference phones and a copier and... Yeah, there was an auction and, you know, we needed stuff, so I, um…” She frowns, fiddling with her hands. “Charged it to the office. But don't freak out, okay? I got a thing, uh, some money coming in from… You know what? It doesn't matter. You mad?”
He touches the fax machine, taking everything in. “Did I ever tell you my mom wanted me to be a butcher?” He asked, reeling back to his ‘coping’ story.
Karen gave him a strange look. “A butcher?” She said, confused about the direction this was suddenly going.
“Yeah. You know what I told her…?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Back in Matt’s apartment, he had Claire set across from him at his dining table; A box full of amateur medical supplies next to him.
“This isn't gonna feel great.” He says, carefully dabbing the cut on her forehead.
“Ow.” She winces at the medicine seeping in. “You got pretty good hands for a blind guy.”
“Used to patch up my dad.” He replies, searching for a bandage.
“He ran around in a mask, too?”
“He was a boxer. Took a lot of beatings.”
“Huh. So you take after him then.” She says, making him laugh as he applies a butterfly bandage. “Ow… Shit.”
He frowns. “I'm sorry.”
Claire sighs. “It's okay. You've had a lot worse.”
“I m-mean…” He stutters, looking guilty. “I'm sorry for getting you into this. I… I never thought that I'd be putting anyone else at risk.”
She shakes her head subtly. “It was my choice. You didn't ask me to pull you from that dumpster.”
“No, you did it because you're a good person. And you almost got killed… because of me.”
“Tell me it was worth it. Tell me that you've got a plan… an end game.”
“Claire–”
“Anything?”
He sighs quietly. “I-I'm just trying to make my city a better place, that's all.”
Now it was her turn to sigh. “I think maybe it's a little more complicated than that now.” She points out.
“Nothing's changing out there.” He says, saddened. “No matter what I do, I'm just… I'm making things worse.”
“Tell that to the boy you saved from the Russians. Or all the other people you've helped.”
“And what about the people I've gotten hurt? What do I…” He inhales sharply. “What do I tell them?”
Claire lets his words sink in, which stirred all the emotions inside. “Feel my heart.” She blurts out, making him freeze. “Come on, feel it.” She picks his hand up and places it on her chest. “What is it telling you?”
Matt grows silent to figure it out, which makes him feel even more guilty than before. “That you're scared.” He whispers.
“Because I am.” She chokes with a small nod. “More than I've ever been in my life. And I am not alone.” Her eyes glass over. “But you can do something about it... for all of us, Mike.”
“Matthew.” He says, sensing her surprise gaze. “My name is Matthew.”
“Matthew?” She asked, after a while. He nods. “Well, alright. Nice to properly meet you, Matthew.”
That gets him to smile a little, relieved that she didn’t sound angry at him. “I’ll get the bed ready for you. And I’ll get you a towel if you want to shower.”
“That’ll be nice. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He starts tidying the first aid kit up, feeling Claire’s eyes on him while he does it.
“Matthew?” She finally asked.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think May, or whatever her real name is, is okay?”
He falters his movements, frowning. “May?” He said, hearing her nod. “Yeah, I hope so.”
“And you sure you don’t know who she is? Or at least have her number or something?” Claire asked, watching him shake his head.
“We never met until a few days before you found us in that dumpster. Never really had the chance to get to know each other.” Matt explains, upset at himself which was evident. “Now, for stuff like this, I wished we had contact with each other.”
She looks away, crossing her arms at the news. “I wish you could have seen her, Matthew. I wish I could explain it.” She replies, sighing. “It’s like…” She purses her lips, thinking of the right words. “It’s like she’s… not supposed to have those abilities.”
Matt casts his blind gaze outside, the neon lights reflecting off him. The colors were changing along with his emotions, one not staying intact for very long. He didn’t know how to feel about this situation. It’s not like they're friends, or partners really, they're more like… acquaintances…? However, he could agree with Claire on one thing. And that was–
.
.
.
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s supposed to have those either.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Anya stumbles through her apartment, barely thinking and seeing straight. But somehow, miraculously, she finds herself inside the bedroom closet, tearing it apart.
W-Where is it…? Where is it…?
She dumps out boxes and bags, emptying out pockets. She felt the nausea return again, and dark spots danced in the corner of her eyes.
Where is it? Where is–
She knocked over what she thought was a shoe box, watching as a vial rolled across the carpet, followed by a syringe. She practically fell over to get it, snagging it and holding it close as she sat against the door.
.
.
// One more dose of this, baby, and you’ll be stronger, more stable than before. Just one more dose. //
.
.
One more dose. Her father’s words lingered in her head, as her sweaty palms brought it closer to her face. The indigo colored serum was calling her (or maybe taunting her?) to take it. Just take it just like he wanted. To complete what he wanted. 
She swallows the burning bile in her throat, shakily grabbing the syringe. 
It was now or never. But then–
.
.
// Benny… you shouldn’t give it to her. //
.
.
Anya halts her actions. A very, very fuzzy memory was coming back. One she could hardly place in the timeline of her life.
.
.
// Maya, this is our chance. The breakthrough we’ve been needing. //
// I know it is. But look at the chart. Her heart’s in overdrive. If you give her the last dose it might kill her, and then all your hard work would go to waste. //
// I know. But we can’t waste anymore time. He’s getting inpatient. //
// Yes, but… if she dies, then you’ll have to start over. And with who, then? //
.
.
She exhales painfully, the items starting to slip out of her hands. Her eyelids felt like lead as they started to droop. And then…
She passes out again.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Will I see you again?” Fisk asked, hopeful as he walked his date back to her place.
Vanessa sighs as they stop in front of the building entrance. “I don't usually date customers.” Was her answer.
“You came out with me tonight.”
“And here we are, so…”
“I can… return the painting, and then I'd no longer be a–”
“I'm not interested in gestures, Wilson, or your money, or… whatever that was all about at the restaurant. I went out with you because…” She stops to choose her next words carefully. “There's something different about you. Not so sure it's a good thing now.”
“Like you said… I don't do this much. And I'm sorry that our night, it went sideways. But...I  enjoyed our time together very much, Vanessa.” Fisk said, truthfully. “If you don't feel the same… even a little bit… just tell me, and I promise you won't see me again.”
Vanessa looks away, conflicted. “I…” She stutters, biting her lip. “Don't know how I feel.”
She doesn’t let him reply because she’s already inside the building before he could. While Fisk’s heart started to hurt it suddenly turned into hatred.
Hatred for a certain young Russian.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile in the back of a familiar SUV, a long overdue conversation was being discussed.
“-And even after all that, you didn't even get a name out of the girl?” Wesley asked, unusually calm about all this.
“No.” Anatoly admits with a smack of his lips. “The man and woman in black came before our men had finished.”
“You were right to reach out to us, although… a call would have been more appropriate.”
“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”
“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn't. It's… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling...changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Wesley starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood.”
Anatoly gives him a strange look, which Wesley ignores to answer his cell phone. 
“Sir?” Wesley said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”
“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.
“Hmm. He'd like to have a word with you.”
Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native language seconds before the door opens. An angry Wilson Fisk reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him onto the ground. They both exchange some hits, equally spilling blood. At one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing that Fisk’s suit was barely touched by the blade.
Fisk ends up pinning him to the SUV, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “You embarrassed me.” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head. “You embarrassed me in front of her.”
He then starts heading butting him a few times, then tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly tries to crawl to the car, and starts begging Wesley to help him in Russian; But Fisk’s right hand makes no movements that he’ll help. Instead, Fisk drags Anatoly by his hair to the car, laying him in the gap between the floor and the door…
Fisk slams the car door.
Over. 
And over.
And over.
And over again.
As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Fisk never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off.
Inhaling heavily, the man admired his bloody self in the window reflection. Frowning, he takes a few steps away, body still tense even after killing the bug. Wesley walks over carefully, offering his boss his handkerchief.
“Tell Mr. Potter, I'll need a new suit.” Fisk said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.
Wesley nods with a hum. “What about this?” He asked, gesturing to the body behind them.
“Take what's left of him and send it to his brother.”
“It'll start a war.”
.
.
.
“I'm counting on it.”
》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《
-Taglist Is Open-
@uncle-eggy @fangirling-galore @superbreadsoul
@twsssmlmaa @winterschildren17
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skyfallslayer · 5 months
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🔥 = Smut 🧸= Fluff 💔= Angst (The Holy Trinity of Fanfics) ⭐= Hiatus
Note: If two or more characters are marked for the same fic, then the emojis used to indicate above my vary depending on their part in the story. If they're the love interest to the reader in their section, but the other person isn't, then their emojis might be different.
REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN!
-Main Masterlist Index-
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•John Constantine
-Keanu Reeves Universe-
|| Series
Hellblazer & Jade - (x Daughter!OFC) 🧸💔 (Coming Soon)
Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the 2005 Constantine, with John having a daughter named Seraphina (Eventually will tie into some other DC movies)
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•Jamie Reyes
-Xolo Maridueña Universe-
|| One Shot
Stepping Out of The Comfort Zone- (x Constantine!OFC) 🧸 (Coming Soon)
Summary: Part of 'Hellblazer & Jade' series. When Jamie goes to Gotham's Law school, he meets Seraphina Silvers, a very... adventures and outgoing girl that wants nothing more than to explore the city and cause a little mischief.
Of Aliens and Mind Games- (x Constantine!OFC) 🧸 (Coming Soon)
Summary: Part of 'Hellblazer & Jade' series. Set during ‘Blue Beetle’, Jamie travels back home after graduation, and Sera plans on doing the same. That is, if an alien artifact turns out to be tied to something more grand, She must try to find him in his home town before it’s too late.
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-Taglist is Open-
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