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#and I can’t seem to unstick the feeling that either someone is mad at me or someone thinks I’m
itspileofgoodthings · 3 years
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I can’t really explain it but every day is just like “okay who hates me today and who thinks that I hate them and how can I clear this up”
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cleanlenins · 2 years
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Ectober Day 2: Scream
He Just Screams Uncool
Ectober Day 2: Scream
During Fright Knight, Mr. Lancer gets sent to a fear dimension after being stabbed by Soulshredder. What would have happened if Dash had gotten stabbed? What would his fear dimension look like?
AO3
Warnings: Light body horror
Dash trembled, covering his ears and crushing his eyes closed. He cowered in a corner, unable to muster the courage to move. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real .
Freaky Fenton must have done something. He was so desperate to win the stupid Haunted House competition that he had cheated. Yeah, that must be what he had done. He had gotten help. Maybe he didn't even do any of it himself. Not that Dash had done anything himself either-
He heard a distant laughter and crushed his palms against his ears. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.
Leave it to the freak to come up with something like this.
He whimpered as he heard the laughter get closer, pressing harder into the corner. The brick walls digging into his arm. He thought back and tried to find some explanation for this madness.
Dash had already won. He knew it. He could see on Lancer’s face as he showed off his room. There was no way Fenton could top this. Fenton’s room was a joke, just like everything else about the loser. It was just up to Mr. Lancer to say the final words.
And then...what had happened? Dash can't remember. It was all so hazy, like trying to remember a fading dream. Someone had shown up, dressed in armor and face obscured in darkness. He almost remembered the horrifying feeling of metal sliding through his chest. But he checked and he was whole. There was no wound. No blood. No pain-
One minute Dash had been standing next to Lancer, the next he was suddenly outside the school? How did he get there? And it was daylight?  Dash blinked at the sudden light. It was crowded with students milling around, but he immediately spotted Paulina and Kwan. His friends could never be mistaken for the normal geeks and freaks that populated the school. Both of their backs were turned to him. Maybe they would know what had happened.
Dash had walked up to the duo, raising his hand to clap Kwan on the shoulder with a cocky grin. The smirk melted away as his hand went through Kwan's arm. Dash stared at his hand, completely dumbfounded. Frozen in place in his confusion. Was he tripping? He didn’t remember taking anything. Then Paulina and Kwan turned and walked through him. Dash gasped at the foreign feeling, like the ice baths he and the team would take after training. Except the cold was under his skin. Under his muscles. Like his bones were made of snow and mist. And then it was gone.
“Guys!” Dash shouted in surprise, but neither Kwan nor Paulina turned to face him. Neither showed any signs of even seeing him. They continued to walk up the path. Dash ran to cut them off, waving his hands in front of their faces. Neither blinked. Dash tried to block their way but once more they walked right through him. He bit his lip, scanning around the school ground for any other familiar faces.
He rushed over to Valerie and tried to grab her shoulder, intent on spinning the girl around to look at him. But once more his hand went through. Star gestured wildly and her hand went through Dash’s head. He flinched away from the uncomfortable feeling. Dale threw his football through the air, and instead of catching it, Dash watched it pass through his chest before nailing that nerd Mickey in the head. Dash couldn’t even take pleasure in the nerd’s broken glasses.
He wasn’t panicking. No, he would never panic. He was the school star for heaven's sake. The hero of Casper. He wouldn’t be beaten by some freaky trick. He started screaming, yelling for someone to notice him. He tried to grab people. Tried to throw books and binders. Yelled expletives in their faces. Tried to punch random people. He definitely didn’t cry, no, those weren’t tears. He was just sweating. His heart was pounding against his chest from the running, not fear. His scream broke off as he choked down a sob. No, it wasn’t a sob! He leaned heavily against the flag poles, somehow not falling through them. He glanced around the grounds in despair. He was at a loss. He was...losing?
His eyes snapped to a trio not that far from him. He focused on Fenton, who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Foley. Dash nearly growled in anger, before marching over to Fenton.
Fenton seemed to shudder as he approached, a cold mist floating from his mouth. Typical freak weirdness. The smaller teen looked up and met Dash’s eye. Instead of cowering in fear, a wide grin split Fenton’s face. Dash flushed in rage.
“What did you do, Fenton?”
“What do you mean?” Fenton asked, grin widening even more.
“Why is everyone acting like they can’t see me? Why can’t I touch anything? If this is something your weirdo parents made-” Dash stuttered to a stop as he watched Fenton’s smile only grow wider, every tooth on display and...were his teeth sharper than usual?
“What do you mean no one can see you, Dash?” Fenton tilted his head, unblinking eyes seemed to be staring directly into his soul. The pupils were blown wide, only hinting at a circle of blue around the black. “I can see you. I have always been able to see you.”
Fenton took a step. Dash swallowed as he took a step away. Fenton’s grin grew even wider. Impossibly wide. Could mouths even reach that wide?
“W-what’s that supposed to mean, you freak?” Dash stuttered as he put distance between him and the nerd. Fenton continued to stroll, a very low chuckle.
“That’s why you don’t like me, Dash. Because I can see you for who you are and who you will be,” Fenton giggled. “A nobody.”
“J-just-Shut up, Fenturd!” Dash tried to hold his ground, balling his hands into fists to hide the tremors.
“You know that someday they are going to see it, too. See you for the nothing you are. Stupid, useless, boring, lame-the list goes on, doesn’t it? You had hoped it would be after high school, but I guess everyone just came to their senses sooner than you thought, Dash .”
Dash lashed out, as he always did when he was afraid. He was expecting the satisfying crunch of his fist against Fenton’s nose. But his fist went right through Fenton’s grinning face. The smaller teen stepped to the side. He reached up and gently grabbed Dash’s wrist. Dash tried to rip it away, but found that Fenton’s hold was stronger than iron. He grunted as he yanked his arm, but Fenton didn’t budge.
“The only thing really good about you is all this strength, isn’t it?” Fenton asked, a cruel excitement in his eyes. “But that won’t last, will it?”
Like the rippling of wind on grain, the skin around Dash’s wrist began to change. Tanned and smooth skin became translucent and liver spotted. Chiseled muscle seemed to deflate and loose skin hung from the bone in a wrinkly mass. The effect flowed up from his wrist to his elbow, as Dash screamed in horror. He once more tried to pull away from Fenton, this time with success as he fell and sprawled on his back. He sobbed and he tried to crawl backwards away, Fenton giggled down at him with hand still aloft. Dash felt tears overflow, he glanced down at his arm which still held it’s withered appearance.
Fenton took a step forward, and Dash’s eyes were back on him.
“Are you crying, Baxter?” Fenton laughed. “Well, that just screams uncool doesn’t it? Don’t worry. You don’t have to cry for long.”
Fenton took another step closer, and Dash was on his feet. He sprinted away, cradling his arm and screaming for help. Anyone. Help him. Please. Someone save him. But while the school had been full of people before, now there was no one. Dash sprinted around the school building, making his way to the brick storage building. He fumbled with the latch, before ripping open the door. Closing it quickly behind him, he shoved himself as far into the room as he could, leaning up against the cold corner of the brick wall. He tried to muffle his sobs, his hands trembling. He listened hard, waiting. Waiting to see if Fenton would find him. Tears flowed freely as he scrunched up his eyes.
So here he was. Trembling in fear of the kid he usually beat to a pulp, with no explanation for his change in fate. He waited, tense as a bowstring, as he heard Fenton calling his name. Taunting him. Laughing. When the voice came close, he held his breath and bit down on his unwithered hand to try and muffle the noise of his chattering teeth. He heard the latch on the door wiggle, creating an eerie squeak into the silence and Dash swallowed a scream. Dash waited with baited breath to see if the door opened. The clack of the rusted metal latch continued, the door remaining closed. Eventually, the noise stopped, the latch thudding against the wooden door. Dash heard Fenton laugh as he passed by. Footsteps inaudible through the thick brick walls. Dash waited, sure that Fenton would come back to unstick the latch. Sure he would come back to continue whatever sick game he was playing. But he didn’t. Finally, Dash felt safe enough to let out a cautious breath. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart and block out the reality around him.
“Found you,” A voice whispered in his ear. Dash looked up to see Fenton, inches from his face, half of his body phased through the wall. Dash screamed, nowhere to run as Fenton reached one hand towards him.
“Mr. Baxter! Dash! You’re okay! It wasn’t real!” Mr. Lancer backed away from the screaming football star. Mr. Baxter scooted into the wall, eyes wide as he continued to scream and cover his face. Mr. Lancer glanced at Mr. Fenton and Miss Manson, who stared at their classmate in a mixture of concern and guilt. “One of you two should go and find a phone so I can contact his parents. “
“Right,” Miss Manson agreed. She locked eyes with Mr. Fenton, before rushing back through the haunted house.
Mr. Lancer tried to calm Mr. Baxter down. But the boy just continued to scream incomprehensible nonsense, clutching his arm to his body in such a way that Mr. Lancer was growing concerned that he had hurt himself. Mr. Lancer tried to distract him, tried to get him to get him to focus on something other than whatever it was that was scaring him.
But Dash Baxter would not look away from Danny Fenton.
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ruewrites · 3 years
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Thrones are Built on Lies Chapter 11: Cracks in the Surface
AO3
Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer
Word Count: 4075
Warnings: None
A/N: We gettin closer to the coronation babyyyyyyy! As always, comments are appreciated! If you wanna reach out and talk or invade my inbox as well you are more than welcome to!
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Solomon had never cooked by himself before.
Solomon had never been in a kitchen before.
When you were royalty you didn't need to cook for yourself, you had people to do it for you. So here he stood, in the kitchen, when no one else was around, staring down the vastness in front of him. He clapped his hands, illuminating the kitchen and grabbed the first pot he saw.
Cooking couldn't be that hard right? All you had to do was mix some things into a pot and hold them over a fire. Easy.
Rummaging through the cupboards and pantry was an interesting adventure. Solomon was familiar with some of the foods and spices, but others were completely foreign to him. He did manage to find the beef which he grabbed in two handfuls to throw into the pot. Surely that was enough right? Now that his hands were sufficiently covered in residue, he went towards the vegetables and spices.
Honestly, this cooking this was rather fun. Perhaps he could start doing it more often. It might give him more points with his new family. He could be alone with his thoughts and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board below him.
Which reminded him, he needed to find a blacksmith. Surely there must be one in the main hub.
Solomon only added water when he realized that the food may burn after it sat in the pot for a while. It tasted fine from what he could tell, and he was contemplating eating some of the food when he heard someone come down the steps.
"What are you doing?" Asmodeus asked, gracefully descending the staircase into the kitchen, "It's so late."
"I could be asking you the same question," Solomon smiled, lifting a bit of his creation to his mouth with a ladle.
"I was actually on my way to see you, but I wanted to check to make sure Beel wasn't about to sneak anything from my wedding."
"Our wedding."
"You're acknowledging it's yours now?" Asmo's voice came out a bit shocked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Of course, it is ours is it not? As for what I'm doing, I figured I'd try my hand at cooking to earn a little more favor with your family," he turned back to the pot, stirring it a little more, and scratching along the bottom to unstick some of the food.
As he did so, Asmo's slender arms snaked around his waist and his head rested gently on his shoulder. It wasn't like his vice grip grasps in the past. Thus one was gentle and, dare Solomon say, fond. His old self would be surprised to see himself relaxing into Asmo. His old self would have never pictured him this comfortable in another's grasp.
"It is ours," Asmo said softly, gently squeezing Solomon's waist. Solomon found his free hand moving downward to squeeze one of Asmo's. Slowly he brought the ladle from his pot up to Asmo's mouth, and his pretty lips opened to accept his offer.
Then he started sputtering. Arms quickly let go of Solomon's waist as Asmo turned away from him.
Solomon turned quickly on his heel to pat Asmo's back, "Did you choke?"
Yes, it was a dumb question. He realized that as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course he was choking. Was he really that poor at social interactions? He was a scholar, a great king, an incredibly intelligent man, and all he could come up with was 'Are you choking?'.
Spoken like a true gentleman. One that fell face first down a mountain only to be attacked by wild beasts that is.
"No," Asmo weezed, "What the hell did you do?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Solomon, darling, are you trying to poison my family?" he gestured towards the pot with disdain and attempted to right himself, "That is nowhere near edible! Did you eat that?"
Solomon blinked a few times, staring at Asmo as he pulled away, glaring up at him. He wasn't really sure how to respond. Surely it wasn't that bad. "I did, are you sure you're not overreacting a little bit?" he asked.
"Over-? No! Are you serious? You ate it?" Asmo gasped, grabbing at his arm, "I'm not even sure the meat is cooked through properly! Well now I'll have to stay with you for the night and take you to one of our healers!"
"But I feel fine," Solomon frowned, as Asmo tugged on him, "Why were you looking for me this late anyways?"
Asmo stopped for a moment before letting go of him in favor of cleaning out his pot instead. "Well, I was hoping I might be able to spend some time with you. I've heard your sleep schedule is terrible and I figured I could visit your chambers."
Solomon moved closer so that their bodies were inches from each other, "That still doesn't explain to me what you want."
"Well I couldn't sleep," his voice came out in a similar fashion as when Azazel spoke to him. It set off small alarms in his mind.
What had he gone through?
"And I figured that perhaps I could-?"
"Something tells me your brother wouldn't be too happy with that," Solomon said, leaning against the counter on the other side of him. Their rooming situation hadn't changed from when Solomon first arrived till now, and he figured with how protective Lucifer was of his brothers that it wouldn't until either after the two of them were joined or until Lucifer trusted him. The latter was a long shot and, at the moment, seemed like it would take more time than what Solomon possessed in a lifetime.
Asmodeus frowned. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to think of an excuse that might work, but the longer he thought about it the more he realized that he was right. "He wouldn't have to know," he tried to reason, "Diavolo might be able to talk him down."
"And if he can't?"
"Don't think about it."
Solomon could have laughed. Stubborn was a good word to describe Asmodeus. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't going to give up easily. In that way, the two of them were similar. He couldn't even be mad when he felt himself give in.
"Alright then," as he spoke, Asmo perked up, "What is it that you wanted to do?"
"I wanted you to hold me," Asmodeus responded quickly, "I just, want you to touch me, just for a little bit. So perhaps you could come back to my room with me?"
Asmo went to grab his hand once more and gently tugged him towards him. His fingers brushed against the silky, flowy fabric of Asmo's night attire.
Solomon allowed him to tug him towards the staircase and down into the caverns. Asmo's room wasn't what he'd been expecting. Flowers and vines neatly crawled up his bed and to his canopy. Moonlight seeped into the room, illuminating bits of the bed and the floor. He stripped himself of his shirt, realizing that it had gotten a little dirty in the process of his cooking adventures, and slung it over the chair in front of Asmo's bureau.
When he looked up, he saw that Asmo's eyes were on him, tracing every line on his body. "You have a lot of markings," he commented, lounging on his mattress. He shifted a bit as Solomon settled next to him and once more let Asmo pull him closer. "Do they mean anything?"
Solomon waited for Asmo to cling to him first before touching him. He probably wouldn't be heading back to his room tonight, not with the way Asmo was clinging to him. It was almost like he was afraid Solomon would disappear if he let go. So, he slung his arm over the smooth curve of Asmo's hip. "They're runes. Ones that I've found interesting from books I've read."
"There's so many of them."
Solomon shuddered as Asmo slowly traced along one of the inked paths. It reminded Solomon of how he traced the runes back in the cavern. His own hands wandered up and down Asmodeus' back and along his hip, encouraging him to snuggle closer.
Warmth.
It was the only thing he could think of. It spread from his core and along every spot Asmodeus touched him. He swore he was in some sort of trance.
"You're always so cold," Asmodeus murmured, "I don't understand why, you're always wearing long sleeves. I thought you'd be warm."
"You're always warm," Solomon yawned, "And soft. It's very calming." He felt Asmo's hands trail from his chest, over his shoulders, and to his back and his long lashes fluttered against him. He flushed, feeling a bit hotter than normal.
Crickets chirped outside and the occasional hoot of an owl resounded in the distance.
"This is nice," Asmo murmured.
It was nice.
***
"Did he say how long it would take to get done?"
Simeon and Luke had both accompanied him into town. Luke trotted behind, scurridly writing down time stamps and what had been done at those times.
"Hopefully not too long," Solomon twisted a ring on his finger, "I'd really like to get it to him as soon as I can. Before the coronation, preferably."
If the universe would have the smallest bit of pitty on him, he would be able to present Asmo with the gift under the stars a few nights from now. It would be a proper way to give it to him, and an acceptable form of an apology. He just needed things to go smoothly.
Simeon kept his stride, not even daring to fall behind him. He could feel him analyzing him, looking over his motions in order to come to a conclusion. "I think he'll enjoy it."
How did he always know?
"How are you holding up back there Luke?" Simeon turned his head to look at his apprentice.
"I would like to slow down, it's hard to write and walk!"
"And that is why you're practicing now."
Luke huffed under his breath and Simeon craned his neck to look over the notes. He always enjoyed seeing where he could offer praise and note where he could improve. Solomon realized that Simeon had been doing nearly the exact same thing to him here in Arcadia. Had he intended to coach Solomon on how to be a good husband?
Sneaky.
Solomon sat down on the steps of the palace, not quite ready to return inside. It had been a while since he just enjoyed the sunshine, and the weather was perfect. New days, new beginnings. It felt as if he’d had two new beginnings since being here, and he was sure these wouldn’t be his last.
Soft warm hands laid over his eyes, and soft breath caressed his ear, “Guess who.”
Luke made a retching noise as Solomon reached for his hands, “Asmodeus of course. Those hands would be hard to not recognize.”
Laughter surrounded him as Asmodeus moved to sit next to him. He set a few pictures down in his lap. Simeon patted his shoulder as he passed them. He wouldn’t stick around when Asmo came and take time away from the two of them bonding, especially not when they’d been getting along rather well recently.
“Mammon said he saw you heading out to the market this morning, so I waited for you to come back.”
Oh his smile was contagious.
“I wasn’t even aware he saw me,” Solomon said, not minding when Asmo decided to scoot a little closer, “What had you waiting for me to come back?”
“I’d always wait for you to come back,” Asmo leaned in and his soft lips brushed against Solomon’s cheek, “But, I did want to show you my attire for our wedding.” He fingered through the papers on his lap, pulling out one from the center of the pile. It wasn’t quite a suit, but it wasn’t a dress either. It was pretty, and Solomon caught himself slipping into thoughts of how lovely it would look on him.
“I based it off my mother’s dress, I remember that I used to love looking at it.” Solomon had never heard Asmo sound so whimsical. He was somewhere else, and Solomon wasn't entirely sure where he went.
"I've never heard you talk about your mother before."
Asmo's eyes lit up, "Oh she was wonderful. She's the one who taught me how to sing. Don't tell my brothers, but I think she was the best mother."
"You all had different mothers?"
"Well, for the most part. Lucifer and Satan shared one, she was the queen, and then the twins and Lilith shared one," Asmodeus traced his wedding attire as he spoke, carefully and ever so precisely, "I don't think any of them got along well, each of them wanted us to be father's favorite even if Lucifer was the crown prince. But they only stayed in our lives up to a certain point, if they hadn't died in childbirth."
Solomon remembered his mother and his father. They'd both done their jobs and molded him into the ruler he was supposed to be, but he hadn't been ripped from them by another person. "I'm sorry."
It was all he could say, and he hated it.
"It's nothing you had any control over. At least I have memories."
He'd been so excited to show Solomon his plans and to continue their planning, but now the mood was completely changed. With hesitant motions, Solomon reached over to touch his hands, "What do you remember?"
"Her voice," Asmo started, "And the way she held me when she sang me to sleep at night. I remember her taking me to see when the twins and Lilith were born. I remember her explaining that Belphie was sick. I used to always want to help take care of him, and I still do even if doesn't want much to do with me as of late. I also remember how she used to kiss my forehead and tell me how everything would be okay. That I was perfect, no matter what father said"
Asmo sunk into Solomon, looking down at his lap as they sat together. Asmo played with his hand, flipping it around in his own, training along his fingers, and squeezing. "I miss being touched like that, feeling safe in someone else's arms."
Was he meant to hear that? Solomon almost missed his words. Carefully, he slipped the papers out from under Asmo's hand and looked over the designs. "I bet she would have loved to see you in this. I didn't know her, but I think she'd be proud."
Asmodeus squeezed his hand a little tighter and it made Solomon relax. The words had felt awkward tumbling from his lips. But luckily it seemed like he'd said the right thing. "If yours looks this wonderful, I'm excited to see what mine will look like," he continued.
***
They weren't the only two scrambling to get preparations done. Servants were running inside and out decorating the palace for Lucifer's coronation, under Barbatos' watchful eye. He'd been seeing more and more of the crowned prince's stressed expression as he, Diavolo, and Azazel had been spending much of their time in the main hall. Azazel had assured him in passing that they would still have time for their regularly scheduled meetings, but they hadn't been lingering on Solomon's mind as of late.
He had other things to focus on.
He also had some internal things to sort out.
His opinions and feelings surrounding Asmodeus had started to change. That much was evident. Yes, he was still high energy and hard to keep up with at times, but he was also incredibly kind hearted. Solomon had always been physically attracted to him, that hadn’t changed. Something else had started to bubble up inside of him though. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to him. It started in his core and spread up into his cheeks and made his chest tighten.
He didn’t dislike it, but it was a new feeling, one that reminded him of how Asmodeus felt.
“Mammon, sit still.” Azazel’s voice was harsh, but the sound of the wooden rod swishing at Mammon’s shins was harsher. He yelped and pulled his legs out of the way and straightened his posture. All of them had been lined up in the main hall. Despite having his own seat, Azazel was wandering up and down the row, eyeing up each of them. As soon as Mammon had been reprimanded, he couldn’t help but note how Levi had scrambled to fix his own posture. The room was tense, and Solomon was trying to keep his own composure.
Who would have known that a coronation rehearsal would be so intense. His coronation rehearsals hadn't been this strict. Then again, Solomon was also an only child.
Asmo’s fingers twitched as he stole glances towards him. Touch meant something to Asmo, and Solomon knew he wanted to touch him. If only he could indulge him in this moment.
“This coronation will be a momentous occasion. Not only will the crown be passed on to Lucifer, but it will also be the precursor to a new kingdom joining us. We are putting the end to an era, and entering a new age,” Azazel placed his hands on the back of Solomon’s chair, a wide grin spread across his face, “It’s a time for celebration. I think it’s also fair to say we could allow ourselves to loosen up a little.” His gaze glanced towards Belphegor and then to Asmodeus, his smile faltering, “But I expect you to look like the strong rulers you are, even if adjustments need to be made.”
Asmo flinched, but Azazel moved away from him and towards Belphegor, “This also meant that you shouldn’t wear your mourning attire. It’s a joyous occasion! Act like it.”
“Says you, I say when I’m done mourning.”
All eyes shifted down towards Belphegor, who was refusing to look at Azazel.
“Your father would want you to enjoy the moment.”
“My father is not the one I’m mourning,” he snapped, “Since all of you have forgotten, Lilith is still dead.” He threw a pointed look towards Asmodeus, “But I suppose I’m the only one who cares that our little sister is gone.”
Silence pierced the room. Lilith hadn’t been brought up all that much since Solomon had been there, and he hadn’t really brought it up. It was like glass, and every time her name had been mentioned, a long crack appeared in the smooth surface.
“Just like the youngest of the family to get hostile when he’s told that he can’t do what he wants,” Azazel’s tone was even but filled with venom. Each word had been punctuated.
A little bit of life flared into Belphie’s eyes as he stood up. Honestly it had been the most alive that Solomon had ever seen him. He stood face to face with his uncle for a moment, before turning briskly and leaving towards one of the corridors.
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Somewhere where the memory of my sister won’t be insulted.”
The door slamming echoed through the room and ended the conversation. Beel went to follow but Azazel cut him off, “You’re not going anywhere. He can throw his temper tantrum on his own.”
“Actually, I think we should end here today. Productive practice will not come from a situation like this,” Lucifer stood and Diavolo followed, looking a bit more concerned, “We can continue tomorrow.”
Azazel nodded curtly, but Solomon could tell he was struggling to hold his tongue, “As you wish.”
Asmodeus also went to stand quickly, he’d been so focused on Belphie and Azazel’s confrontation, that he hadn’t noticed that Asmodeus had turned away. Solomon felt that he should have followed him, he wanted to follow him, but Azazel caught his shoulder.
“My brother wasn’t happy with them for a reason,” he growled, “Of course, they all have their little flaws, but I have no doubt they would have ruined the crown if they’d been allowed to interact with him too much. It only takes one bad egg to ruin the bunch.” His gaze wandered over towards Diavolo who tried to strike up a conversation with Asmodeus and a few of the remaining brothers to try and lighten the mood. Beel was missing.
“I told him the twins should have been separated as well, he would be so disappointed to see how soft his descendants are becoming. Hard work is going down the drain.” Solomon barely felt Azazel let go of him, and he almost didn’t realize that he left. He was standing alone from the group, he felt like a stranger again.
Until Diavolo looked at him. He offered him a smile and waved him over, and those feelings started to ebb away. He couldn’t help being drawn into the group with Diavolo’s charismatic smile.
“I can’t believe it’s almost time, it’s like the days didn’t even exist,” he said as Solomon took his place near Asmodeus.
Lucifer nodded in agreement, “Life had seemed to go rather quickly lately.”
“And all of your brothers are going to play their own parts,” Diavolo brought their attention towards Asmodeus, who seemed to perk up a bit from earlier, “And Asmo will be singing, just in case he hadn’t told you.”
“I was going to tell him,” Asmo hummed, “I just hadn’t found the right time yet.”
“And he hasn’t heard you sing yet,” Diavolo shot a look to Lucifer who nodded.
“You are correct, he hadn’t heard you sing Asmodeus.”
Solomon had never seen Lucifer look this calm this close up. He was almost afraid to ruin the moment by speaking. Perhaps Diavolo did have some sort of magical abilities, but he did admire their relationship.
Maybe it was possible for good things to happen in arrangements like this.
Maybe he’d been a little too pessimistic in his views.
His eyes shifted back towards Asmodeus, who was already looking to meet his eyes. A soft finger went to interlock with his own. “Look at you two, putting so much pressure on me.”
“Yeah, if ya flub up, you might lose your fiance and embarrass yourself in front of all sorts of people,” Mammon cut in, poking at Asmo’s nose.
“Oh puh-lease, you should be focused on making sure none of your golden decorations are dull. No one likes underwhelming decorations,” Asmo bounced back quickly. He was witty. Perhaps it came with the territory of growing up with so many siblings, but Solomon still liked it nonetheless. It was endearing, and added to the growing list of things that Solomon had started to enjoy about him.
“Oi! I make sure none of my babies are ever dull! You watch your tongue!”
“And my voice hadn’t failed me yet, so maybe you should watch yours.”
His mother had been a singer too.
Had he learned from her?
Or was it something he picked up to carry her with him.
Regardless, music must have been important to Asmo. Solomon was positive that he would sound perfect. If he had learned anything about his fiance in the time he’d spent here, it was that he strived to be perfect. After all, he’d done so much to garner Solomon’s attention, even when he hadn’t been there for him, even when he’d been terrible. He still promised Solomon perfection, promised that Solomon would fall in love with him.
Maybe he was right. Maybe Solomon was falling in love with him. From the way he went to cover his mouth when he laughed to the way his eyes crinkled upwards ever so slightly when he smiled. He had a wonderfully melodic laugh, one that Solomon could listen to for hours. He was witty in his responses and graceful in his motions.
He’d still hold him later when he asked. Solomon had seen how bothered he was during Azazel and Belphegor’s confrontation, and Solomon wouldn’t mind helping him take his mind off of the entire situation.
After all, he was trying to be better for Asmodeus, because he deserved better.
For the first time since coming to Arcadia, Solomon genuinely felt like he belonged.
For the first time in his entire life, Solomon thought that he might be falling in love.
21 notes · View notes
aidemint · 3 years
Text
reflection - bucky barnes
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word count: 3k+
notes: god i just love Bucky so much asdkjahdkfjhskdjfsdf his character is kinda hard to capture because of the layers that marvel set up but i tried lol
warnings: angst turned to fluff with a lil bit of spicy kissin with a hickey 😏😏 but mostly (?) wholesome bucky n his beautiful partner 🥰✨
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Ever since Bucky moved into the Avengers compound, he was always distant. He’d go out of his way to avoid close contact with anyone besides Steve, even going so far as to skip meals or lock himself up in his room all day, reading books that Steve delivered to his quarters. And despite all the pleading and beckoning from Steve’s end, it seemed like nothing could get Bucky to open up and spend at least a few hours with the people around him. 
Perhaps his self-isolation was a form of self-punishment. Perhaps he didn’t truly believe that he deserved anything, or that he wanted to be with people, that he wanted to laugh and have fun with friends. There was an amalgamation of repressed emotion behind those piercing, dark blue eyes. 
In understanding this, I was fortunate enough to get close to Bucky -- not as a means to fix him, but to understand and comfort him when and where he needed me. We’d spend nights together looking at the stars, talking about the bits and pieces of our childhoods that we could remember, or simply laying next to each other in complete silence, relishing the peaceful and serene atmosphere that the evening brought.
 And it was in that setting in which we shared our first kiss. 
From then on, we always shared a special, intimate relationship. He opened up to me, as I did to him. We were equals -- something that Bucky had never known, being trapped in the Hydra system ever since he got out of ice. 
But I’d only known him for a few months. I’d only been with him for a shorter amount of time. There was so much more to uncover, so much more that he had yet to choose to speak with me about because he just wanted to keep everything stuffed inside a tight little jar and ignore it. He wanted to ignore it because he was scared. He was afraid that the soldier would come back and he would lose everything all over again. 
He was scared of the monster, of the ravager that lived inside of his mind in the minefield of memories. 
A habit of his seemed to sprout from this inherent terror.
Whenever I talked to him, he could never keep his gaze trained on mine. His stare wandered to every inch of my face but never seemed to pass my eyes. He’d look at my forehead and the bridge of my nose at an attempt to fool me into thinking that he was lost in my eyes, but I knew. And it was the same with reflective surfaces. He’d turn away from mirrors and slightly opaque windows with a wince, hide behind his cap and stare at the ground in elevators, among other acts. 
For days, I wondered why. I even mustered the courage to ask him, but he’d deflect, then changed the topic as soon as he could. I didn’t prod, as I didn’t want to venture in a space beyond his comfort zone, so I just left it. 
Yet it still seemed to haunt me. I figured it would be an inquiry that was to remain forever unsolved, but it lingered at the back of my mind whenever I saw Bucky. This was beginning to form a bad habit. I didn’t want myself to become fixated on “helping” him in a zone that he’s clearly not comfortable talking about. I couldn’t allow for myself to spiral into obsession over such a thing.
So the question remained unanswered.
__
A week had elapsed since the thought had initially come to mind. It was midnight and I was finishing up some research about a newer perpetrator that was affiliated with a series of bombings in Berlin. As I sent the documents to Tony so he could do some deep diving, someone entered the hall, light footsteps padding towards the small kitchen island where I was sat. 
I lifted my head up only to see Bucky moving towards me. Closing my laptop, I gave him a small smile and turned to him.
“Buck? What’s up?” He sucked in a breath and let it out shakily as he took a seat on the kitchen island next to me. I couldn’t tell what emotion his expression was of, but it wasn’t something pleasant. No, his brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a deep frown with unexpectedly prominent wrinkles forming underneath his eyes and on either side of his nose. It didn’t foretell the beginnings of devastation, nor desolation, but a simpler feeling that I didn’t recognize. 
“I need to talk to you,” he spoke lowly. I nodded, holding my hands out so that he could place his in mine. Not minding that his gaze was lowered as to avoid mine, I still stared at him attentively, making sure that he knew that he had every bit of my attention. 
“I’m here for you, sweetheart.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can tell me anything.” The brunette gave a small but appreciative smile, then cleared his throat before speaking. 
“You know the question you asked me before?” I nodded. “I think I have an answer.” 
“I’m all ears,” I murmured in response, rubbing the tops of his hands with my thumbs, “Take your time.” Bucky opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it soon after, unable to unstick the words that were lodged in his throat. 
He looked as if there was something restricting him from telling me -- a higher, greater force that forbade him from speaking about this taboo topic that was his issue. His irises, normally a deep shade of clear blue, were stormy, clouded with dark thoughts that swirled around his mind. The sight was uncomfortably familiar -- I’d seen that face before, when he first arrived at the Avengers compound. His hair was disheveled and he looked like he hadn’t showered in a week, but what stood out to me the most was how pained his gaze was. The complete and utter wreck that he was inside only showed through his stare and it hurt me more than expected. 
I never truly believed the ambition of the saying “the eyes are the window to the soul,” but for the first time, it became my mantra. How torturous was Bucky’s inner state, how unbelievably despondent he was. That chest of his lacked a spirit because it had died in the wasteland of the mind. There was no shred of hope left in his consciousness. 
There was no sparkle in his eyes. 
I wondered where that gleam had gone.
In the present, I kept waiting for his response, patiently sitting and holding his hands until he was ready. 
Bucky drew in a breath, then let it out, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on clearing his mind and seeking comfort in our bond, in the trust that he’d so courageously given to me. 
He fluttered his eyelids open once he found his place.
And then it all came out in carefully chosen words and cautious sentences.
“I hate seeing my reflection. I hate it. If there was a stronger word, I would use it, but i-it’s all that I can come up with right now. I-I just- Every time that I see myself I just think that this was the last face that people saw before they died, that this was the face plastered across the news, that this was the face that served for Hydra.
And it’s pathetic, I know. I know that I’m an Avenger now, and I know that I’ve somehow changed, and I know how much effort you put into each and every moment, in trying to understand me, and I feel so horrible every single time you look at me and I can’t seem to return that… that hopeful smile, or lovestruck gaze because I just-” He paused, an influx of emotion surging through his body. I rubbed a thumb against the back of his hand to assure him that everything was going to be alright. 
“I can’t look at you because I can’t stand seeing that… that man in your bright eyes. Those bright eyes that are filled with so much life, so much joy whenever they’re on me. I don’t- I don’t want him to be in there. I don’t want him to hurt you, (Y/N). I don’t want-” The brunette stifled a sob by tugging his bottom lip in between his teeth. My heart ached at the sight, my grip on his hands becoming tighter as I watched him come undone. He turned to me with tears in his eyes, tears that threatened to fall onto his cheeks, threatening to stain his skin with the colors of sorrow.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. A trembling breath flew out of my mouth as all the wind seemed to be knocked out of my lungs at the impact of his words. I took him into my arms, pressing his heart to mine and clenching my fists around the fabric of his shirt. Bucky slowly wrapped his arms around my body, finding comfort in my touch, resting his chin on top of my shoulder blade, drinking in my scent in heavy but silent gasps.
“Oh sweetheart…” I flattened my fingers to softly pat his back, attempting to ease him into a less panicked state. “Everything’s gonna be alright. We’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, I’m not going to get hurt because of you. You’re not going to hurt me, honey.” The brunette in my embrace shuddered, hopelessly clutching onto me in desperation, almost at a mad scramble for some sort of safety. 
We sat there, intertwined with one another as I whispered words of solace until Bucky’s breaths became even and his hiccups subsided, making way for a smoother airflow and a stable, steady heart rate. Unlocking my arms so that we could separate, I gingerly placed my hands on Bucky’s chest and delicately pushed away enough for me to brush all the hair out of his face and press a kiss to his forehead.
“Bucky, I want to show you something.” 
“What is it?” 
Taking his left hand, I led him to the bathroom down the long hallway on our floor. He sensed what was going on and immediately stopped in the middle of the hall, his grasp tightening around my hand. 
“(Y/N),” he spoke, “(Y/N), please.” I clasped my hands around his metal one and gave the back of it a kiss, my gaze full of sorrow as I stared at the brunette. 
“Please, Buck. Let me help you.” Bucky could hear the pleading tone about my voice. He hesitated for a moment, pausing to take a breath, but eventually gave a reluctant nod as I led him to the bathroom. Upon entry, Bucky immediately bowed his head, completely avoiding the centerpiece mirror as he moved to a spot in front of it. I gave a soft, sympathetic sigh and hopped on the table that was built into the giant vanity, making sure that my boyfriend was positioned right in front of me. 
“If you’d like, you can close your eyes, sweetheart,” I hummed, “Can you lift your head up for me?” The brunette did as he was told, fluttering his eyelids shut as I gently raised his chin so that it sat at a normal angle. Letting a breath out, I admired his features with despairing irises. I looked on at his red, puffy eyes and unkempt skin as a pang of heartache reverberated through my body. Despite how painful it was to see him in such anguish, I managed to swallow the lump in my throat and opened my mouth to speak to the broken man.
“Honey, I-I don’t know how you feel. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must have gone through during your darkest times, but I want to be there for you. I want to be there for you whenever you crash or you forget that your actions in the past don’t dictate your future. You’re not the person you were a year ago, Buck. Your face doesn’t remind me of the desolate times, but of the happiest moments in my life.” Noticing that I was getting loud, I paused for a few seconds to cool off, then continued. 
“Whenever I see this face,” I murmured, cupping Bucky’s cheeks in my palms, “I see my Bucky. I see the face of the man who has been nothing short of sweet, understanding, patient, and oh-so dear to me.” My view flitted to his hair, to which I reached for to slowly entangle my fingers in. Bucky gave a small hum as I brushed my digits through his hair, instinctively collecting the brown locks into a half-bun. His neck arched at the feeling, his shoulders sinking while I continued to play with his hair while talking freely. 
“I see the face of the man who is selfless, caring, who is willing to change and diverge from his past to strive towards a brighter future.” As I secured the half-bun in place with a hair tie, I smiled at the sight of Bucky’s expression: his eyes were still closed, but the edges of his lips were curled up in content and comfort -- a rare but always stunning sight. 
“I also see the face of the man that I love with every single bit of my heart, and who I know loves me all the same.” Finishing the look, I leaned back and reveled in the newfound freshness to the brunette’s complexion. 
“If you want, you can open your eyes, Buck.” To my complete surprise, his eyes shot open the moment those words left my mouth. Without missing a beat, he jerked forwards and looked at the mirror with sudden resolution. My heart jumped upon seeing his readiness and the sudden jerk his body took upon, but soon melted as I recognized spots of determination and wholehearted faith in his expression. 
He was slowly shifting out of his comfort zone. 
The progress made here tonight would’ve taken weeks if we attempted this a few months ago. 
It was an understatement to say that I was absolutely ecstatic about this huge leap we’d taken together. My emotions were beyond elation, beyond excited -- the mere thought that Bucky had felt comfortable enough around me to do this sparked a fire within my chest, one that sent flames rushing through my veins so that the tips of my fingers tingled, trembling as they struggled to contain the enhanced level of exhilaration. 
“Baby,” I breathed, “Oh, Bucky.” I turned around to look at the mirror and watched in pure joy as a delighted grin spread across my lover’s face, lighting up his features in the best ways possible. His gaze shifted to my reflection, then back to his, soaking in the wholeness of the image before us. 
“You’re beautiful,” he spoke, “You’re so beautiful, (Y/N).” My heart leapt to my throat as I burst into laughter, my cheeks rosy and my head spinning. He’d called me beautiful in the past, but it never felt like this -- so pure, so close to the heart and endearing as ever. The brunette stepped back to gaze at me as I giggled with a hand clapped over my mouth. 
“Doll, don’t you dare cover your face, now.” Bucky gripped both of my forearms and pulled down so that the big, dopey grin on my face was fully exposed and my laughter could finally echo freely through the chamber of the bathroom. The brunette drank in the melody of merriment with a big, dopey grin of his own as he started to slide his hands down my arms and to my thighs. 
“Hey, look at me, beautiful.” Instinctively, my gaze shifted to meet Bucky’s. The world seemed to slow moments before our eyes met. Waves of motion blurred and the background turned into white and beige gaze as my pupils started to fixate on my lover. 
There was silence, seemingly senseless blindness, even.
And then this brilliant wave of blue, the crashing of cymbals, the tidal wave that immediately swept over my eyes. 
I started to cry as I saw the way his irises glimmered underneath the bathroom lights as they bore into mine, those beautiful dark blue irises finally making their way into the depths of my soul. I cried my heart out, hot tears streaming down my flushed face, cascading down my cheeks and dripping onto my chin. God. I was breathless. 
“Doll,” he said, brushing a tear off of my cheek, “Hey, what’s wrong? Are my eyes that ugly?” I laughed at his jokes, lightly shoving him in response to his cheeky comment. 
“I-I’m just so happy,” I sobbed, “I’m so happy, Bucky.” The brunette smiled and leaned in, nearing my face as his eyes grew half-lidded. He gave my thighs a squeeze before whispering against my lips, his hot breaths bearing down on them, filled with want. 
“I am too.”
His lips pressed against mine and suddenly everything was right in the world. As my hands slid up to cup his face in my palms, I wrapped my legs around his torso, bringing him closer to me, his lower stomach pressed against my core. I hummed at the sensation of his finding their way to my waist, fingers smoothing over my curves, cherishing every small wave that they found themselves riding. 
Gasping softly as his mouth moved to layer kisses down my neck, I moved my hands to rest comfortably on Bucky’s shoulders as he started to lap at a spot at the base of my neck. Small huffs of breath and mewls spouted out of me as the brunette worked on forming a bruise.
“God, I love you,” he murmured into my skin, “I love you so much.” I could only hum in response, toes curling at the sensation of his teeth gently nipping at my collarbone as his tongue coaxed my nerves to scream in delight. 
Once he was done, he parted from my collarbone with a satisfied glint in his eyes and lifted his head to fondly gaze at my relaxed features. 
“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything,” he spoke. I kissed his forehead and beamed at him, overjoyed to finally have seen him like this -- relaxed, with a radiance about his expression that could not be attained from anything other than pure laughter. 
And with that, I pressed my lips to his again, only parting to reply to his expression of gratitude. 
“You deserve it, baby. You deserve it.”
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care-devil · 5 years
Text
List of Karedevil moments - Season 3
[Season 1] [Season 2] [The Defenders]
Episode 1: Resurrection
Scene 1:
○ When: overlaps scene 2. Starts around 10′13, ends 18′45.
○ What: Karen goes to Matt’s place to check the mail, as usual.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “I just I know it's irrational but I can just feel it. He's not dead.”
Scene 2:
○ When: 11′33
○ What: Karen’s reaction to Matt’s big reveal (flashback).
○ Main quotes:
[...]
Karen: "Thank you. Can you see me?" 
Matt: "No. No, not 'see' exactly. It's different. It's, um I think it's better." 
Karen: "'Different' how? 'Better' how?" 
Matt: "Well, I can sense things about you." 
Karen: "Okay. Like what?" 
Matt: "Oh, God. It's really hard to explain." 
Karen: "Um, try me." 
Matt: "I know that you stopped on the way over here. At our favorite Indian place. Probably it was a trip down memory lane, 'cause you didn't eat but you did order a drink. See, I can smell the curry on your clothes, and I can taste the Jameson's off your lips. I know that just telling you all that makes you uncomfortable 'cause I can hear your heartbeat." 
Karen: "This is humiliating." 
Matt: "Karen, I should've told you. You have every right to be angry." 
Karen: "Yeah. I should be. I should be really angry at you. But I watched you fight for me. Twice, actually. You know I dreamed about that? I played it over in my mind again and again, and I keep... How can I be this mad at someone who saved my life?” 
Matt: "Because he's your friend and you care for him and he broke your trust." 
[...]
Karen: "Help me out, then, because I'm not you. I can't tell if you're lying to me or not." 
*Takes her hand, puts it on his chest.* 
Matt: "I don't need him to be a part of me anymore. And I don't want him to be." 
Karen: "I want to believe you. I'm not so sure Daredevil is the problem." 
Matt: "Ouch."
Episode 2: Please
○ When: 37′50
○ What: Indirect scene. Karen tells Foggy she thinks Matt’s alive.
○ Main quotes:
Foggy: “You know how I know he's gone? Because if it was Matt, if he was really still alive, he would've reached out to us.”
Karen: “You know how I know that you don't really believe that? You keep saying "gone" instead of "dead." Now, don't you want to take a minute and just be absolutely sure that's not your best friend out there somewhere?”
Foggy: “I wish it was my best friend. But it's not. He's dead. Karen, come on!”
Episode 3: No Good deed
Scene 1:
○ When: 6′05
○ What: Indirect scene. Ellison tries to set Karen up with his nephew...
○ Main quotes: 
Ellison: “You could use some happy.”
Karen: “I am happy. Look, I'm not, um I'm not ready.”
Scene 2:
○ When: 11′55
○ What: Kind of indirect? Matt’s in front of the hotel where Fisk is, and he hears Karen.
○ Main quotes:
Fisk’s ‘ghost’ (aka Matt’s own self-conscious): “You’ll never keep Karen safe. In the end, you’ll kill her too.”
Matt: “Stop it.
Fisk: “Just like your father. And Stick. And Elektra. They all died because of you, Matthew.”
Scene 3
○ When: 44′08
○ What: Matt goes see Foggy at the bar.
○ Main quotes:
Matt: “The only reason I came here was to warn you and Karen that Fisk is out and you're both in danger.”
Foggy: “Dude -”
Matt: “I've had a rough couple of months, Foggy. Questioning a lot of The point of it all. And last night, everything became clear. I'm going after him, Foggy. I'm gonna find a way to bring Fisk down. But I can only do that if I know you and Karen are safe.”
Foggy: “Dude, slow down. I'm still processing that you're, like, even sitting here.”
Matt: “I know you're gonna want to get involved. You and Karen will try and fight Fisk in some way. I'm telling you, I need you to stay out of it and leave it to me.”
Episode 4: Blindsided
Scene 1:
○ When: 2′45
○ What: Indirect. Matt comes back to his apartement and realizes someone’s been taking care of his mail.
Scene 2:
○ When: 17′00
○ What: Indirect. Foggy tells Karen Matt’s alive, or rather she guesses.
○ Main quotes: 
Karen: “Matt’s alive.”
Scene 3:
○ When: 17′27
○ What: Karen barges into Matt’s apartment, followed by Foggy.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “Matt! Matt, where the hell are you?” 
Foggy: “He's not here. I called. Even asked Fran down the hall if she saw anyone poking around. She would know. She pokes.” 
Karen: “Why? Why would he let us think that he was dead?”
Foggy: “It wasn't Matt that I saw, Karen. I mean, not really. It was Matt. All five feet, ten inches of him, but the way that he spoke to me something was missing.” 
Karen: “Well, that's nothing new. There's always something missing with Matt. I used to think that it was it was busy lawyer, distracted Matt. Then I thought it was weight-of-the-world- on-his-shoulders Matt. But you know what? It's just Matt.” 
Foggy: “But it wasn't any of those. I think a part of him was buried under Midland Circle. I don't know if he's coming back.”
Karen: “So much for him promising he'd stop lying to us. Letting us think he was dead.”
Foggy: “A whopper.”
Karen: “I think Matt's made his choice. It doesn't really leave any room for either of us.”
Foggy: “No. I guess it doesn't.”
Karen: “Well, I am not going to sit here and wait for Matt to come to his senses. Fisk is out, and he has to be stopped.” 
Foggy, seeing Matt’s glasses: “Fran was wrong. I guess she didn't poke hard enough.” 
Episode 5: The Perfect Game
○ When: 10′35
○ What: The police bring Karen to Matt’s place.
○ Main quotes:
Nadeem: “Then why have you been paying his bills?”
Karen: “He's a friend. Someone had to do it while he was away.”
Nadeem: “So your friend, a blind man who you haven't spoken to in months, just ups and disappears, and you don't file a missing persons report?”
Karen: “I figured he'd come back when he was ready.”
Episode 6: The devil You Know
Scene 1:
○ When: 2′30
○ What: Matt pays a visit to Karen at her place.
○ Main quotes:
Matt: “Hey, Karen.”
Karen: “You need to pay me back for your rent.” 
Matt: “I've been staying where I grew up. There's a reason I stayed away, Karen.”
Karen: “Yeah, if you say it was to protect me, I'm seriously gonna throw up.”
Matt: “I can't protect you. Not from Fisk. Can't even protect myself.”
Karen: “Sure you don't want coffee?”
Matt: “If you wanna yell at me go right ahead.” 
Karen: “Did I ever tell you about my old neighbor, when I was growing up? Mr. Larssen. Well, he was this nice Norwegian guy. He let his wife do his talking. But on the days when it'd get really cold you know, and stuff would freeze, and you'd need help moving your car or, uh unstick a door, Mr. Larssen was always there. So, one winter, his wife hit a patch of black ice. The whole town turned out for her funeral. And Mr. Larssen sat there through the sermon and then he gathered up his casseroles and went back to work on the farm, like it was just another day. He never said a word about it. And I thought I'd go over there and be a good neighbor see if he wanted to talk about what happened. And you know what he said? "What for?" You know what? You came to Foggy because you needed something from him. What do you need from me, Matt?”
Matt: “Fisk staged the attack on himself in prison. That's how he, uh, tricked the FBI into moving him to a hotel. Got some lifer named Jasper Evans to shank him and then arranged for him to walk out of prison. On the books, Evans is in solitary. In reality, he's been set free.”
Karen: “Can you prove that?”
Matt: “Yeah, if I can find him. Get him to talk to you. Bulletin publishes the details. Fisk is exposed. And the FBI will be forced to send him back to prison. So, yeah, you're right. I came to you 'cause I needed something. Your help. What do you say? You wanna help me?”
Karen: “No. And I'm serious about the rent."
Scene 2:
○ When: 11′29
○ What: Indirect scene. Karen and Foggy are talking about helping Matt in a car.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “Okay, but I'm not ready to forgive him.”
Foggy: “I get it.”
Karen: “ You know, you shouldn't be either. I mean, he he stole your identity, he made you a target.”
Foggy: “Has Matt been a shitty friend lately? Without a doubt. But, deep down, I think it's hurting him as much as it's hurting us.”
Karen: “How do you figure?”
Foggy: “Because he could've gone to any reporter, Karen, but he came to you. Maybe Matt's finally coming to his senses. But even if he isn't, the way he's been treating us lately is on him. Us turning our backs would be on us. People have bailed on Matt his whole life, and I'm not gonna be one of 'em. You do what you want, but that's not the kind of friend I wanna be.”
Scene 3:
○ When: 18′30
○ What: Karen comes to see Sister Maggie.
○ Main quotes: 
Karen: “Sister Maggie?”
Maggie: “Can I help you?”
Karen:  “Uh, yes. Uh, one of the nuns said I should speak with you. Um... I'm looking for Matt Murdock. I'm sure he swore you to secrecy, but he came to see me this morning. Asked for my help. Uh, is he here?”
Maggie: “No, he's not.”
Karen: “Okay. I'm sorry. Sorry to bother you.”
Maggie: ”’And some bloody their fists trying to keep the Kitchen safe.'”
Karen: “I wrote that.”
Maggie: “It was in your piece about Daredevil. He's a complicated man.”
Karen: “Yes. Yes, he is.”
Maggie: “I've read several of your articles the past few days. I've been trying to find some insight.”
Karen: “Did you find any? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't. Oh, I'm sorry.”
Maggie: “Wears you out, doesn't it? Saving him from himself.”
Karen: “Yeah. I don't think I can do it anymore. I think I'm done.”
Maggie: “Matt was a tough one when he was a kid. He held the record for the most Hail Marys, five years running.” 
Karen: “Hmm. I wonder how many he'd have to say these days.”
Maggie: “He came to us right after he lost his father. His only family. He was alone in the world. In his private darkness. Surrounded by strangers. Yet he seemed fine during the day. He'd eat with the others attend his classes, go to mass. But he was plagued by awful nightmares. He'd wake in a sweat, screaming. He didn't say what they were about. He'd just call out for help. So I'd go, and I'd hold his hand till he fell back asleep. But I have so many children under my care. Matthew wasn't the only one. His nightmares went on for months. One night, Matthew called for help and I didn't answer. I didn't go to him. He never asked us for anything again. He shut us out. Shut everyone out. Everyone in Matthew's life abandoned him. Including me. When someone in need tries to push you away you have to find the strength to hold on tighter.”
Scene 4:
○ When: 27′16
○ What: Karen comes to see Jasper Evans. Matt saves her.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “You okay? Okay. So you knew his last known address? You knew he'd probably be here, so what what were you waiting for? For me? You knew I'd come?”
Matt: “I hoped.”
Karen: “Okay, look, I'm gonna help you. But after that, I need you to help Foggy and me. Look, the FBI are all over us.”
Matt: “You want me to turn myself in."
Karen: “Did you talk to Foggy?”
Karen: “No. But, uh it's the smart move. Sure, I'll do it.”
Karen: “But what if they figured out that you're you?”
Matt: “Well, this mask doesn't do me any good if I'm a wanted man, either way. Besides, if the FBI figured out who I am, who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and they'll lock me up next to Fisk.”
Karen: “Jesus. Foggy said you were different. Changed, I guess. I told him it was bullshit.”
Scene 5:
○ When: 31′28
○ What: Matt’s getting ready to go to the FBI, Maggie talks to him.
○ Main quotes:
Maggie: “Well, it warms my heart to see you going out to do something other than beat someone up.”
Matt: “How do you know? Could just be adding style to my beatings.”
Maggie: “Did you... Did you just make a joke? You look ready to smile, which I'm sure in your case means... Well, I don't know what that could mean, as I've never actually seen one. This have something to do with the blonde who came to visit me today?”
Matt: “Karen. Yeah. Yeah, I'm meeting her.”
Maggie: “Wow. She's lovely.”
Matt: “She is.”
Maggie: “She knows you're Daredevil.”
Matt: “She does.”
Maggie: “And she stuck around? Sounds like a keeper.”
Matt: “We're just friends.”
Maggie: “Well, it's nice to hear you use the F-word. And to see you reconnecting.”
Matt: “Wait, I'm She's just helping me one last time.”
Maggie: “It's not a criticism, Matthew. Calling you an idiot for believing that friends make you weaker rather than stronger? That would be a criticism.”
Matt: “Thank you for clarifying that.”
Scene 6:
○ When: 48′35
○ What: Matt just fought Dex, he’s on the ground. Karen comes to check on him.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “Matt? Jesus Christ.”
Matt: “ Foggy?”
Karen: “No, no, no. He's okay. He's okay. Jesus, are you?"
Matt: “Did he kill Jasper?”
Karen: “Yeah. Yeah.”
Episode 7: Aftermath
None
Episode 8: Upstairs/Downstairs
Scene 1:
○ When: 36′16
○ What: Indirect scene. Karen confronts Fisks. He asks her about Matt’s double identity.
○ Main quotes:
Fisk: “Tell me, so at what point did you learn about Mr. Murdock's secret life? Yeah. Thank you. Thank you, Ms. Page.”
Episode 9: Revelations
Scene 1:
○ When: 26′05
○ What: Indirect scene. Karen goes to see Maggie.
○ Main quotes:
Maggie :”When you find him, he'll need a friend.”
Karen: “That's just it. See, I can't really stick around. Um Fisk knows about Matt. I just I just wanted to warn him before I run."
Maggie: “Are you in danger?”
Karen: “Yeah. Matt's not the only one that Fisk wants dead.”
Maggie: “Do you have someplace to go?”
Karen: “No, I was just gonna get the first bus out of town.”
Maggie: “I can help you.”
Karen: “Uh, yeah, no, you don't want me anywhere near you right now. Trust me.”
Maggie: “The church has been helping people hide for 2,000 years. Hide here. Give me a day to make a few calls, and you'll have shelter halfway around the world by the end of the week. Please, let me do something for you. For Matthew.”
Scene 2:
○ When: 51′40
○ What: Matt’s managed to make his way into Fisk’s hotel. He overhears Fisk’s men say that they located Karen.
○ Main quotes:
Cop: “Karen Page located at the Clinton Church. Keep all NYPD units clear of that location until otherwise advised. Copy?”
Matt: “What does Fisk want with Karen?”
Computer Lady (I really didn’t know what to call her): “He wants her killed.”
Episode 10: Karen
○ When: 43′36
○ What: Karen knows Dex out with a cross (yay gurl).
○ Main quotes: they don’t say much as Matt passes out.
Episode 11: Reunion (aka Karedevil heaven)
Scene 1:
○ When: 2′25
○ What: Matt’s still out.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “Matt? Matt, come on, you gotta get up. You gotta get up. Please wake up. Wake up. Hey.” 
Matt: “Karen?”
Karen: “Can you sit up?”
Matt: “Yeah.”
Karen: “Okay. We gotta go.”
Matt: “Where is he?”
Karen: “I don't know. I think he got away.”
Matt: “No. Jesus. Father... He killed him. Karen, he killed him.”
Karen: “I know. I know. I'm sorry, but you gotta run.”
Scene 2:
○ When: 5'40 
○ What:
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “Matt, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Matt: “Why didn't you run?”
Karen: “Run? How could I run?”
Matt: “God. Karen, if you get caught, all of this was for nothing. *pause*  It won't hold them forever.They'll be back.” 
Karen: “Matt, you're right. You're right, it's my fault. I deserved the baton, not Father Lantom. I should never have come here.”
Matt: “Why did you come?”
Karen: “Because Fisk knows who you are. I wanted to warn you.”
Matt: “That's what this is about? Yeah. He already knew that. Oh, God. Karen, I had him. I just gave up my one shot to come here to save you.”
Karen: “What do you mean, you had him?”
Matt: “I was in his penthouse. Waiting for him. That was it. It was the moment.”
Karen: “What do you think you were gonna do?”
Matt: “Shh! He's back. Poindexter is upstairs, and he's with Nadeem.”
Scene 3:
○ When: 9'52
○ What: The sarcophagus scene. Enough said. 
○ Main quotes:
Matt: “I guess we'll just wait here until until they leave. Why is Fisk hunting you?”
Karen: “Had a plan. Went to go see him.”
Matt: “You went to see Fisk?”
Karen: “Yeah, I thought maybe I could provoke him, turn his emotions against him.”
Matt: “To what end?”
Karen: “Make him attack me in front of the FBI.”
Matt: “Jesus, Karen.”
Karen: “Yeah. Don't worry, it didn't work. He caught me off guard, asked me how long I'd known your secret. I swear I tried, but he just... He read it in my face.”
Matt: “You tried to outsmart Fisk? Provoke him into making a mistake?”
Karen: “Fine, okay, right. You're right. I was an idiot. Sorry.”
Matt: “No, you were brave.”
Karen: “Anyway, he didn't take the bait.”
Matt: “What was the bait?”
Karen: “I told him a secret of my own. You remember that friend he had that got shot? Uh Wesley? I killed him. That's why he sent Poindexter after me. I was stupid and... and reckless, and now Father Lantom is dead because of it. Because of... because of me.”
Matt: “Why didn't you tell me?”
Karen: “I don't know. You... You always, uh, treated me like I was innocent. That was nice It was nice that you thought of me like that. What were you gonna do to Fisk?”
Matt: “Kill him. Your turn to judge me.”
Karen: "No. No, I'm not.I get it. Trust me. Just makes me, uh It makes me sad for you." 
Matt: "It has to be done, Karen." 
Karen: “Okay, you're gonna have to listen to me here. Okay, listen to me. Okay, I never told you why I left Vermont, right? Why I left home. Okay, see, there was a car crash. And Um, I killed my brother, uh, because I was I was high, and I was drunk and I was angry..."  
Matt: "Jesus, Karen..." 
Karen: "And I shouldn't have been driving, and it changed everything. No matter what I do there is no atoning for that. Okay? There is no way to come back from it." 
Matt: "What if it is the way back? For me? I can't let Fisk go." 
Karen: "Killing anyone even Fisk it will change everything that you that you feel about yourself." 
Scene 4:
○ When: 21'10 
○ What: Matt tends to Karen's wounds. 
Scene 5:
○ When: 23'30 
○ What: Matt & Karen are still in the church’s living quarters.
Main quotes:
Karen: “Jesus, Matt. Couldn't put it on in front of her? You know, something just kinda hit me. Watching you wall yourself off from her.”
Matt: “You know?”
Karen: “Uh, yeah. She told me. Said she felt ashamed about what she did. And that everyone you ever cared about left you.”
Matt: “Can we not do this now?”
Karen: “Is that why you insist on doing everything alone?”
Matt: “I don't insist...”
Karen: “Pushing Foggy and me away.”
Matt: “I'm not. I told you, I'm tryin' to protect you-”
Karen: “I think you're trying to protect yourself.”
Matt: “You wanna talk about this right now? There are people tryin' to kill us, and you wanna-”
Karen: “Just shut up for a second, Matt, okay? Look, I was never gonna leave you up there, and I'm not leaving you now. Neither will Foggy. Despite the fact that you've been a complete asshole to him, he'd still follow you over a cliff.”
Matt: “Yeah. Okay.”
Karen: “So, what, you agree?”
Matt: “That could actually work.”
Karen: “I don't get it. What could work?”
Matt: “Foggy.”
Scene 6:
○ When:  39'11
○ What:
○ Main quotes: 
Foggy: “Do you have any idea how much life has sucked for Karen and me while you were off doin' your own thing?”
Matt: “No, but I'm sorry, Foggy. Maybe I was wrong to to push you away.”
 Episode 12: One Last Shot
○ When:  11'35
○ What: Karen, Matt and Nadeem are preparing at the gym.
○ Main quotes:  
Karen, to Nadeem: “Look, you you hurt people. It doesn't have to define you.”
Matt: “You should get ready, Ray. Locker room is through there.”
Matt, to Karen: “Yeah. You're right. His mistakes don't need to define him. Neither do yours.”
Karen: “I should get going. I don't wanna miss my window. Really? No, uh, "It's too dangerous, Karen"?”
Matt: “Clearly, you can handle yourself. But... you know, Karen, please, be careful.”
Episode 13: The New Napkin 
Scene 1:
○ When: 44'55 
○ What: Karen and Matt come out of church after Father Lantom’s funeral.
○ Main quotes:
Karen: “That was nice, what you said.”
Matt: “Yeah, it wasn't just him, you know. It was you, too. You helped me see the truth about myself.”
Karen: “Ouch.That had to hurt."
Matt: “Well, maybe one of these days, I'll forgive you, too.”
Karen: “Before my funeral, I hope.”
Matt: “I'm glad you told me, Karen. About Wesley and your brother.”
Karen: “Yeah. Well, uh I couldn't live with that lie forever.”
Matt: “We're all just trying to do more good than harm. And I'd say you're ahead on that score.”
Scene 2:
○ When: 48'19
○ What: Foggy, Matt & Karen are celebrating their future.
○ Whole dialogue because it’s the last of the seasooon:
Karen: “Is that a whiskey neat?”
Matt: “For medicinal purposes.”
Karen, grabbing his drink: “Mmmmm.”
Matt: “You want me to get you your own?”
Karen: “Oh, this one tastes fine.”
Foggy: “Give Matt his drink back. 
Matt: “Yes.”
Karen: “So, I guess you guys heard, Special Agent in Charge Hattley flipped. She corroborated Ray's dying declaration.”
Matt: “I did hear.” 
Foggy: “So, the FBI is getting an enema, and Fisk is... still breathing.”
Matt: “Yep. Still breathing.”
Karen: “Headed to prison. Again.”
Matt: “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
Foggy: “You trust that he'll keep his word?”
Matt: “I mean, I trust that he loves Vanessa. As long as she's free, he should stay away.” 
Karen: ”And if she gets hit by a bus tomorrow?”
Matt: “Yeah. Well, then we'll cross that bridge.” 
Foggy: “So, how long you gonna stick around?” 
Matt: “Actually, I was thinking about moving back into my apartment.” 
Karen: “Really?” 
Matt: “Well, seeing as the bills are paid, I might as well.” 
Karen: “Okay, so hold on. You're going to move back into Matt Murdock's apartment?”
Matt: “Yeah, yeah. I just figured he has a healthier life-work balance. And actual friends.”
Karen: “Doesn't have a job, though. He's kind of a mooch.”
Foggy: “Semi-decent lawyer, though.” 
Matt: “Oh ‘Semi-decent’? Ouch.” 
Karen: “You do break the law. A lot. And often.” 
Matt: “Objection... Sustained.” 
Foggy: “I have a crazy idea. I need a new napkin.”
Matt: “Okay. Well, he's writing something.” 
Karen: “Apparently.” 
Matt: “What? Oh, he just wrote all of our names, didn't he?” 
Foggy: “How can you know that?”
Matt: “'Cause I was thinking the same thing.” 
Karen: “Okay. Okay, guys, I'm not a lawyer.” 
Foggy: “You're one hell of an investigator.” 
Matt: “Yeah, and way more stable than Jessica Jones.” 
Karen: “All right, so what? What does that mean? We go back to helping people out of a crappy office, getting paid in chickens?” 
Foggy: “I think Theo would let us work out of here, to start. 
Matt: “And at least we'd have a place to sell the chickens.”
Foggy: “So what do you think?” 
Karen: “Why the hell not?” 
Matt: “To Nelson, Murdock & Page.” 
Karen: “Page, Murdock & Nelson.” 
Matt: “Hang on a minute. That actually has a nice ring to it.”
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