#at this point i can say that drawing them is better therapy than going to therapy

[baker-chan-senpai]

just some fluffy serirei for the soul

#serirei #serizawa katsuya #reigen arataka #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #i've been feeling pretty down lately and they're the one thing keeping me sane rn #at this point i can say that drawing them is better therapy than going to therapy #don't take my word for it tho please go to therapy we all know you need it #art #digital art #ALSO I REACHED OVER 800 FOLLOWERS AT SOME POINT WHILE I WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION?? THANK YOU SO MUCHH??? #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

[llamagoddessofficial]

I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you

I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them

Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.

Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.

... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.

Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.

Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.

Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?

Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.

Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.

Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.

He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.

Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.

(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)

Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.

She'd never seen him so delighted before.

Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.

Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.

Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~

#llamagines #prison au #prison therapist au #guard: ... #skull: ..... #guard: ...... #skull: ... you'll... bleed..... #guard: That's IT. I FUCKING QUIT

[themidnightcrimson]

tarot ࿏ wm

summary: in which you visit a psychic for a tarot card reading and find that her tricks seem too real.

words: 4.9K

warnings: dark!wanda, fem!reader, non-con/dubcon, tummy riding, scissoring, dildo (r receiving), size kink, use of magic for mind manipulation, dumbification, degradation

this post is a dark!fic and is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

The loose rocks of the pavement scuffed under your heel as you mindlessly kicked them with your shoe, taking a long, slow drag from the cigarette. It was cold that night, and the smoke that you exhaled through your lips was dense with the fog from your warm breath.

Nat reached forward and took the cigarette that you were sharing from your fingers. “It’s been months, y/n.” Her leather jacket squeaked as she curled her arm to bring the cigarette to her lips. The air was damp and the music from the bar muffled as Nat leaned against her truck. “I don’t mean to be that friend who just tells you to just get over it and move on, but just get over it and move on.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved your numb fingers into the pockets of your coat. “I have moved on.”

Nat squinted at you as she turned the cigarette back to you, and you took it, breathing in the smoke she exhaled. “You fled the bar as soon as you saw her across the room.”

You glanced around, hoping that your ex was still inside and nowhere near you. It had been two months since the nasty and dramatic breakup between you and the woman you had been with for over three years. It was sudden and unexpected, and she really gave you no other reason for it besides “I think we should see other people.” You knew that meant she had been or planned to cheat on you, which just made the entire ordeal even more sickening.

“Is it so bad that I don’t want to be around the person who dumped me after three years together? I mean, c’mon, maybe two months is a long time for you but on the time scale of relationships, it’s still very fresh to me.”

“Aha! So you haven’t moved on, like I said,” Nat countered, taking the cigarette right as you were about to take a second draw.

“No, I—I have moved on. I mean, I don’t care about her anymore. It’s not like I still love her. It just hurts seeing her.” You tried to explain it the best you could. You truly did not love her anymore and would never even fantasize or contemplate getting back with her after how crudely she had left you, but seeing her reminded you of all the hurtful words she had said and how she had betrayed your trust so cruelly. It was a reminder that you were heartbroken.

Nat only nodded, looking down at the pavement and crossing her legs. There were a few beats of silence as you stared up at the full moon and she stared at the side of your face. “You know, I would say you should try therapy, but why waste a thousand dollars when you could get a psychic reading for 20 bucks.”

“Huh?” You turned to look at her incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

Nat shrugged and handed you the cigarette. “Maybe to give you some clarity, or the closure that she never gave you. You know I don’t believe in all that holistic spiritual shit, but I do think something like a tarot card reading could help you move forward, even if it’s just by placebo effect.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I mean, they tell you what you want to hear. It’s fake, you know. They figure out what you’re in there for and they tell you everything they can so that you leave with a smile on your face and their pockets full. Nonetheless, it’s some pretty good bullshit they spew. Better than anything I could tell you, with how shit I am at words.” She kicked at the rocks and chuckled. “It’s either that or going to church.”

You raised your eyebrows and laughed. “Church makes a psychic reading sound like heaven.”

“There’s one in town, you know?” she added, turning and pointing West. “Down at the end of Ellis Avenue.”

“Ellis Avenue?” you echoed. In all the years of your life you had lived in that small town, you’d never heard of that street. “What’s down there?”

“A shit load of nothing. It’s where the town turns into all woods. But I know there’s a tiny psychic shop down there. It’s got a purple sign that says 20 dollars for a tarot card reading.”

“Tarot cards,” you laughed. “Why have I never heard of it?”

“It used to be owned by some lady named Agatha, but there’s a new woman there now that took her place. Wendy, I think she’s called. Wait, no—Wanda! That’s it.”

“Wanda,” you sounded out the name, and you noticed how the wind picked up and caught the word from your lips, whistling it into the air eerily. “That’s a fitting name for a psychic.”

Nat flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with her boot, rocks crackling under her heel. “You should go tonight. I’m sure it stays open pretty late.”

You glanced back to the bar, knowing that your ex was somewhere still inside. You certainly weren’t going back in there, and Natasha didn’t seem like she was willing to go home yet, so your only other options were to either go home and sleep or go test out this psychic.

“Fine,” you finally said, digging your car keys out of your pockets. “I’ll go check it out.”

Nat hesitated suddenly. “Well, actually it’s a little late. Maybe we can go tomorrow, and I’ll go with you.”

You were already walking to your car. “I’m not getting any sleep tonight after seeing her, anyway. I might as well just go.”

Nat looked around and scratched her head. “Well, just be safe. There really is nothing on that end of town, and I have no idea who this woman is. Keep your phone on you and text me when you get there and when you leave.”

“Okay, mother,” you joked, to which she grinned. You waved her goodbye and got in your car, watching as Nat walked back into the bar.

“Ellis Avenue,” you whispered as you typed the words into the map app on your phone. Nothing came up. “Huh?” You deleted it and typed it again, but still nothing showed. Did Nat get the name wrong?

You glanced out your window in the direction that Nat had pointed. She said it was on the far West end of town, where the woods started. You supposed you could just drive around until you found it—the town was too incredibly small for you to not find it. You imagined that you were so used to the town that you never looked hard enough to notice new things, and that’s why you had never seen the shop before.

Buckling up, you pulled out of the bar and onto the road. You drove West across town, taking a few turns that you knew would lead you to the woods. After a while of seeing nothing, you thought maybe Nat was pranking you, but finally, you saw a dingy street sign that read Ellis Avenue and a tiny little shop with a purple sign that read $20 for tarot card reading above a hand with an eye in the palm.

There were no cars in the parking lot. The place barely looked open if it weren’t for the blinking purple sign. You paused, wondering if this was really safe. It was late at night, and this shop was way out of town, alone and isolated on a road where there were no other shops or houses.

It seemed intriguing, though. As you stopped in the middle of the road and stared at the shop, you felt something pulling you towards it. Maybe it was the universe telling you that this was going to be good for you, that whatever this psychic could tell you would be the key to unlocking your grief and moving forward with your life. Whether it was placebo or not, maybe this would help you be in the same room as your ex without freaking out and fleeing.

Trusting what you believed to be your intuition, you cut your wheel and turned into the gravel driveway, your headlights reflecting off the dark tinted front windows. Shutting off your car, you walked up the crickety front steps to the door. You paused, feeling almost as if you should knock before entering. Considering that it was a public shop, you just helped yourself inside, gently opening the door to be met with the intensely strong smell of incense.

A cough scratched at your throat as you stepped inside and closed the door. The air was smoky from an incense stick burning in the corner and from probably two dozen candles burning all around the room. Your eyebrows sewed together as you looked around curiously.

Everywhere you looked were little trinkets and whatnots—crystals of varying sizes and shapes and colors, tiny bottles of strange colored liquids, little jars filled with herbs and flowers and sealed shut with melted wax, bundles of sage and other herbs and leaves, and other little things that you could not recognize. Whoever this psychic was, she truly put on the act and made her shop part of the show. It would be impossible for someone to walk in and not feel like they were being handled by someone who knew what they were doing in the realm of spirituality.

You jumped when you heard a shifting sound, your eyes flickering to a curtain of beads that separated this room and another. Through the curtain that was parted by a ringed hand came a woman, a young woman with long brown curls and smokey green eyes.

“Hello,” she greeted you with a low, accented voice. “How may I be of service to you tonight?” Her voice was pleasant but careful, and her narrowed eyes looked you up and down as if she were suspicious of you.

“Hi,” you squeaked, knowing how silly you probably looked standing in her room of witchy tools. She wore a black dress with a red scarf wrapped around her arms, her fingers fiddling together as she neared you. “Um, are you Wendy—I mean, Wanda?”

An amused look crossed her eyes. “I am. And you’re y/n.”

Your spine jumped out of your skin. How did she know your name? You looked down at yourself, wondering if maybe your wallet was hanging out and showing your ID, but there was no reason she could have known your name. You chalked it up to it just being a small town and everybody knowing everybody. “Yeah.”

“Sit,” she spoke, gesturing to the table sat in the center of the room with candles lining it. You saw a crimson set of tarot cards sitting perfectly on the tabletop. “You’re here for a tarot card reading.” She simply said it rather than asking it.

“I suppose,” you slowly began, feeling your nerves tingling. You tried to remind yourself that psychics were like magicians. They used tricks you were unaware of to make it look like they can read your mind or have supernatural abilities.

You carefully sat down at the circular table, and once you were sitting, she gracefully sat down opposite from you, letting the red scarf slip off her arms and hang over the seat of her chair. The smell of the incense was almost nauseating as you watched her fingers take the tarot cards and begin shuffling them expertly.

The silence was loud as she eyed you while shuffling. You supposed she was pretending to look hard into your mind, so you just stared back at her.

“It must have been hard seeing your ex at the bar,” she said simply as she started to cut the deck into thirds. Her hands were moving so swiftly you couldn’t keep up with them, only seeing a blur of rings and cards.

Your lips parted in shock. “Um… I know you’re a ‘psychic’ or whatever, but how the hell did you know that?”

She didn’t answer you. She laid the cards into three decks in front of you and then withdrew her hands, leaning back in her seat. You noticed then how quiet and solitary the shop was, how intimate with its low lighting and flickering candles and smoke.

“Draw the top card from each pile,” she instructed, a sultry tone in her voice.

You wanted to press her question further, but you reached forward and took the top card from each pile as she said, laying them face-down on the table in front of you. When you were finished, she slid the remaining piles to the side and flipped over the first card to your left. You were confused when you saw that the card was upside down.

“The Chariot,” she read, her eyes blinking thoughtfully. “Reversed. Your future has been carried away from you.”

You tried not to scoff, but she noticed anyway, sharply eyeing you and pursing her lips. She continued anyway, flipping over the second card which was upright.

“Death.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest, your brain already calculating what that card meant. It was eerie, the way it looked, drawn in a smudgy black and white sketch of a body laying dead on the ground and a horseback knight, assumedly the murderer, jumping high over its victim.

“Your relationship ended abruptly, and you find grief a difficult transition.”

You still did not know how she knew you had been through a breakup, but maybe it was an easy guess for a young girl walking into a psychic shop. A part of you, a very gullible part, started to wonder if maybe she really was a psychic.

Finally, she turned over the last card. Chills pierced your spine as you recognized the Satanic image on the card—Baphomet, a horned man, drawn with an unnerving smile over the words The Devil.

“Ah,” she smiled, her lips curling into a pearly smile that caught your eye. She was a beautiful feigned sorceress, that was for sure. “You’ve been tricked.”

Your face scrunched at her words. “Tricked? How?” You were genuinely curious what she meant, even if you were starting to fall for her illusions.

She paused for a thoughtful moment, fiddling with the rings on her fingers as she stared at the card. “She was judgmental, wasn’t she?”

You held your breath, silently urging her to go on.

“She made you feel ashamed of yourself and manipulated you into thinking you were nothing without her. She even made you feel like you were unworthy of her love, though she suffocated you with it before taking it away abruptly. She tricked you into thinking you could not breathe without her, and then she took away your oxygen. And you didn’t even know it was happening, did you, detka?”

She was staring at you now, her misty eyes gazing into your own. A drowsy feeling overtook you, and you couldn’t keep hold of your thoughts. They were rushing past you, plucked just before you could think them, scrambled out of your reach. You didn’t know it was the crimson glow on her fingertips under the table giving you this blank and dazed feeling.

“I…” you trailed, your head starting to pound. “How did you…”

“I am a psychic,” she spoke, and her voice started to sound far away from you, though she was sitting just across the small table. “Says it on the door. You knew it before you came in.”

Tilting your head, you squinted at her, your mouth forming words that your brain would not let your tongue speak. Suddenly, you felt like you had forgotten completely how to speak.

It was then that every candle in the room except for the few on the table were snuffed suddenly by a gushing wind that tickled your hair across your cheek. In the dark, under the glow of the table’s remaining candles, you saw a scarlet light in her eyes.

“You… you’re…”

“I am everything you think I am and more,” she interrupted you. “And you are more than you think.” She leaned forward, bringing her hand out of the table. You watched as she twisted and curled her fingers around in the air, sparkly red magic dancing between them as she scrambled your brain with a tilted head and a curious stare.

Suddenly, flashing memories of your ex passed through your mind. The fights, the arguments, the words you had pushed down and forgotten about under your ex’s manipulative gaslighting.

Wanda spoke, “She made you think the relationship was perfect so you would stay with her for as long as she wanted you, and so that when she didn’t want you anymore, she got to have the upper hand while you suffered. Evil little cunt.”

“That’s not true—”

“I’m seeing it right here, detka.” She twisted her fingers, and the moments were clear in your mind. Your head started to feel fuzzy, your vision dim as you gripped the table, losing all sense of balance like you might fall right out of the chair. “How could someone treat a perfect little kitten like that? Take you for granted so, and leave you out on the road like a discarded dog.”

Now your heart was starting to hurt as much as your head, and before you realized it, you were crying. The smell of incense was burning hard through your nostrils as the witch picked her way through your brain and scrambled the rest. She was surprised at how easy it was to get in your head from the moment you had walked through the front door. She heard your thoughts before she even stepped in the room and looked at you. Now, seeing how easily a non-magical human had broken you down, she gleamed at the thought of how easy it would be for her and her powers to dumb you down even further.

“Stand up.”

Control over your own body was way past you. You moved at her words, standing sharply to your feet. She grinned in satisfaction and stood slowly, walking towards the curtain of beads she had first came through. She didn’t even have to speak or move her fingers for you to follow, floating mindlessly after her through the long strings of beads into the next room.

The back room was small, a sort of bedroom with a crimson velvet bed and a few pieces of furniture. More candles were lit back there, and the smell of incense was even stronger.

“Take off your clothes, detka, and lay down.”

Your body submitted to her voice. Mind far from matter, you peeled your own clothes away until you were bare naked and laid down on the bed, feeling the velvety red sheets on your nude skin.

Wanda sauntered towards the end of the bed, feasting upon your nudity with her darkened orbs. Her hands sinking into the mattress, she crawled on all fours onto the bed and towards you. You couldn’t describe what it was you were feeling. The state of your mind was both entranced and clear, sunk deep into murky waters while also soaring high in the clouds. It felt like static buzzing within and around you, and between blimps of momentary unconsciousness you suddenly saw that Wanda was now straddling you, her short black dress resting high on her thighs. You could feel her bare pussy resting on your lower stomach, her hands gliding across your upper abdomen.

“The most perfect thing to have fallen in my hands,” she whispered, her hands snaking over your tits and squeezing them eagerly. A whine escaped your throat, and she looked surprised to see that you were still present. “Still with me, detka? Let’s have a little fun before you go. I like playing with my new toys right out of the package.”

Her magic infiltrating your conscience was hot and feverish like fire, like bits of ember and ash sizzling away at the mass of your cognizance. It trickled down through your skull like lava and burned the inside of your throat. What piece of you was still there tried to file through which exact moment it was that she caught you—as soon as you walked in? When you inhaled the strong incense? Or was it when you sat at the table? Or when you touched the cards? Was it the very moment when you stopped your car in the middle of the road and stared at the blinking purple sign? Could it possibly be the very moment that you looked up at the full moon outside the bar as Nat told you about this place? Which moment was it that she found her way inside your head and stapled the roots of her magic to your mind?

It felt like you were lucid dreaming as the witch’s hands scoured your body, groping at your tits, squeezing the soft flesh of your waist, tickling over your collarbones and neck. You felt pressure on your lower tummy and saw that she was grinding her bare cunt against you, her wetness sliding easily over your skin.

“Silly puppy,” she taunted with a sharp laugh, her hands fondling your breasts as she undulated her hips against you, skirt catching on your waist. Your skin was growing sweaty under her fingers as her magic coursed through your blood like a venomous infection. “A witch doesn’t reveal her tricks, does she?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she let out a soft moan, grinding harder on your stomach as she pinched and tugged harshly at your nipples. Your body reacted with a small gasp and a jolt through your muscles, and she smiled.

Lifting up, she backed herself between your legs and then spread them open wide at an angle, casting one leg over yours. Your breathing picked up as she pressed her clit against yours, grinding her cunt into you.

“Fuck, puppy,” she moaned, throwing her head back as dirty squelching noises filled the room. You were wetter than you had realized, and it was evident by the feeling of both yours and Wanda’s juices mixing together. She pushed your hips upward so that she was at a better angle, halfway folding your body as she used your pussy to get herself off. A drop of your mixed wetness started to slide down your tummy, running over the spot that was still wet from when she had grinded herself there.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, detka,” she grunted, her eyebrows sewing together as the bed started to squeak with her motions. “You just be a good toy and let me use you, and I’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to worry about your ex anymore, or your job, or your friends, or even your life. It’s in my hands now.”

Her feelings of pleasure allowed her focus to slip momentarily, and you took the opportunity to string together words of your own will, still struggling to speak. “P-Please,” you said coarsely, looking at her with pleading eyes. She knew exactly what you meant, because she was inside you with her own mind in yours, and she could feel that coil of pressure in your belly, and you could feel hers, too.

She grinned, grinding her clit harder against yours, reaching up to pinch at your nipples. Your body squirmed, teeth piercing into your own lip as a moan escaped your throat, heavenly pleasure washing over you in an orgasm like a warm ocean wave. Wanda moaned and her hips stuttered as she came, her hand that was holding your leg up squeezing your flesh painfully.

She panted as she came down, and you thought maybe that would satisfy her and she would let you go, but now she was crawling down between your open legs and shoving her face between them.

“Ah!” you whined as her tongue lapped over your throbbing clit, slipping down to push deep inside you and tasting you there. Your body reacted outside of your control, trying to jerk away.

“Be still,” she ordered in a whisper, and your body commanded like a machine, stilling as she continued lapping at your sensitive clit. She suckled and pulled away to spit right on your slit before returning her mouth to you again.

“W-Wanda,” you mouthed, hands squeezing at the sheets as another coil of pressure sprung within your belly. It tightened and tightened as she devoured you, and before you knew it, you were blinded with another orgasm, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open as you cried out.

Coming back up, she licked her lips and moaned at your taste, wiping your remnants from her mouth and spreading it over your belly. Your legs were trembling now, clit throbbing painfully, but by the look in her eyes, she was not done.

“You saw all my toys in there,” she spoke as she leaned over you to reach to the nighstand beside the bed, one of her necklaces tickling your nose in a cool metal graze. “But I keep some in here for special pets like you.”

Dumbed down, you didn’t know what she meant until, after hearing her open a drawer and rummage around, she kneeled back down between your legs, holding an uncomfortably large dildo in her hands.

You had the urge to jump off the bed and run away, but her magic had been keeping you pinned to the bed this whole time. You watched with wide eyes as she spit on the dildo and smeared her saliva around it, lowering herself down between your legs again and running the tip of the toy through your folds. Jolts of electricity went through you at the touch on your overstimulated pussy, your voice strings cracking together to sound out a pathetic whine.

“If you’re going to be a good toy, you will take whatever I give you,” she whispered, eyes concentrated on your bright red clit and the way your wet folds moved around the dildo as she teased it through them. “Be a good pet.”

She pushed the tip into your entrance, and for a moment, pleasure coursed through you, but as she pushed it in further and your hole ached to stretch around its girth, you cried out, “T-too b…big.”

“Take it, my dirty slut,” she husked, grabbing your thigh and jerking your legs open wider. Sharp pain filled you as she stuffed your pussy full of the dildo, sinking it all the way inside until the hilt touched your skin, and the tip of it was braced against your cervix. Your mouth fell open at how full you felt, how deep it was, at how much your walls ached and throbbed around it. “That’s it,” she praised, “That’s so good, detka.”

She eased it out, earning a hiss from you, and then forced it back in, doing this slowly until the resistance eased and she started to thrust it harshly into you.

“Look at you, taking the whole thing,” she spoke as she grabbed your knees with her free hand and bent them against your stomach so she could fuck you deeper. Using her magic to keep your knees bent, she placed her free hand on your clit and started to rub it hard.

“No!” you exclaimed, your clit hurting from the contact that it was ultra-sensitive to. You tried to squirm, but you couldn’t, and the dildo was hammering hard into you and poking through the skin of your lower tummy and making your legs turn to jelly. “W-Wanda,” you cried, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks.

She smirked at you, feasting on the sight of you crying and begging her to stop, wanting to squirm away from the overstimulation. She was trying to break you down even more, dwindle and dumb you down into a messy puddle of nothing, and she was doing a great job of that.

Squelching noises filled the air as she pivoted the dildo into your hole at a rough speed with one hand and rubbed hard at your clit with the other, pausing only to spit on your rubbed raw clit before rubbing it again.

“W-w-w…” You tried to speak, but your mind was so scrambled, and you were in so deep under her spell and her cruel administrations to your body that you couldn’t do anything but scream as two orgasms violently crashed over you one right after the other. You didn’t even notice that you squirted upon the second one, shooting the warm liquid right upon the skin of Wanda’s chest where her dress did not cover.

She twisted the dildo inside you as you came, urging more liquid out of you until finally there was no more, and you were on the brink of blacking out. Finally, she pulled the dildo out of you and put it away, putting your legs back down on the bed and climbing off you.

Your core ached and throbbed as more tears slid down your cheeks, your legs violently trembling. Wanda rounded the bed to place a hand over your forehead. Through teary vision, you took one last glimpse of her.

“You will be my best toy,” she whispered, a dimple forming in her cheek as she smiled before whispering, “Sleep.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!fic #marvel #lgbt #lesbian #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

#a singular chapter in which dream has a good time! #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #bit of a time jump bc i dont think i have it in me to write one billion physical therapy sessions XD like they gotta kiss sometime #long post

[insanelyadd]

#LetSansRest Day!

Hello everyone and welcome to year two of Let Sans Rest Day! Same as last year it's August 9th.

Before we get into some prompts, a little bit of a mission statement. Last year I said this day was for everyone who's a fan of Sans Undertale or anyone who's tired of every image they see of him being him Suffering. This is still true, but I do want to additionally address something I saw a few different people mention.

I have actually received criticism for daring to suggest that Sans not be tormented to the point of insanity, and that this day where I implore people to make realities where Sans doesn't become a creepypasta insane murderer man from the agony he is subjected to, isn't a stand against ableism like Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day is. *stares in bipolar psychosis and PTSD directly into your eyes* Obviously that's a load of shit, and even though Sans is more popular than Papyrus (I say, as a Papyrus Enjoyer) a lot of the content around Sans is very specifically about him suffering. So simply out of spite for these comments (including someone who saw last year's announcement and directly commented "No <3" on the post) I will be continuing this holiday indefinitely, just like LetPapyrusSayFuck Day. Die mad about it.

Just like how I have ADHD and relate to Papyrus and see the way the fandom treats him as the infantilization of neurodivergency like autism and ADHD, I can look at works in this fandom of Sans that demonize traits of mental illness like trauma, hallucinations, delusions, and mania. And I can say these are both bad actually. Not going to call anyone a bad person for engaging in these things, of course, that would be a bit goofy of me, I'm just saying the imagery used for these things is Very Loaded and a lot of people are mishandling them.

So anyways August 9th is the day we let Sans Undertale out of his Torment Nexus so he can:

Have lemonade at the beach or pool

Go stargazing while camping out in the woods with friends and family

Get smothered in cute baby kittens and puppies

Go to therapy and play with one of those magnetic sculptures all therapists seem to own

Take a nap on an inner-tube on a lazy river

Get to see the leaves change color for the first time

Play basketball with Papyrus

Fall asleep in a basket of freshly dried clothes

Go to a public greenhouse to look at all the different flowers on the surface

Perform stand-up for humans who all love his terrible puns

Please tag the post with #LetSansRest, #Sans, and #undertale as well as any other applicable tags for characters, relationships, etc. This day is primarily for classic Sans but it's not like I can stop you from drawing Fell Sans not being subjected to his own, personal, goth-themed Torment Nexus.

This is meant to be a day for everyone who wants Sans Undertale to go to therapy and feel better. People who want to put him in a hamster cage with plenty of things to prank for enrichment. People who want to win him one of those massive stuffed animals at the county fair.

If you want to participate please be mindful of some things:

I will be monitoring the tag to reblog things! I have ptsd and would appreciate if ships involving Papyrus or Frisk (and similar) with Sans are avoided. This is simply for my mental health and I greatly appreciate it. <3

Do Not post angst to the #LetSansRest tag. It is meant to be an angst free tag for him.

Don't worry if you can't participate on the exact day! Just like with #LetPapyrusSayFuck Day you can use the tag and post to it any day! :>

Hope you're able to participate and have fun! <3

#letsansrest #undertale #sans

[superdillin]

Gender! At the Strip Club

How Sex Work Transed my Gender

(but also it's far more complicated than that I just love a punchy headline)

It’s tricky to have a conversation about the realities of sex work in a world that sees things too profoundly in a binary. Admonishing certain realities of it may be misinterpreted as siding with TERF ideology but romanticizing it ignores the complicated intersection of labor exploitation and bodily autonomy inherent to the industry. Because I want to talk about an ultimately positive experience I took away from my time within the industry, I feel that it’s important to start by saying that when people say sex work is work, we mean that it is labor, and needs the support that all laborers need. The workers need organizing power, ownership of the fruits of their labor, and protection from their clients and employers.  

Recognizing the impacts of sex work on my life has been a delayed reaction because ultimately, it was a traumatic time of survival. I spent nearly a decade in Fight or Flight, with no time to analyze what I was experiencing while it was happening. I’m not even blaming the industry for that, because as problematic as it can be, poverty was the true villain, as insecure living situations, unstable work, and working multiple full-time jobs will keep your nervous system in overdrive 24/7. 

So years later, every so often, I find myself with a new lightbulb appearing cartoonishly over my head, drawing another connection from who I am and how I interact with the world today, and how said behavior ultimately originated in a place called Nite Moves, of all things. Some of those behaviors have resolved with time. How I interacted with all cis-men during those years and for a time afterward was undeniably disordered. I inherently distrusted every single one, yet felt like I needed them around at all times for a feeling of safety and security. I kept dangerous men in my life for no good reason. But that went away with time and therapy. Now I distrust cis-men an appropriate amount. (ba dum-tss)

Other things did not resolve with time. My ire for how club owners (often in tandem with security staff) exploit workers and prioritize clients and profits over the safety of dancers? That ire was justified, and all that’s changed now is that I know more about labor organizing, leftist politics and have more context in my belief system to explain why the system is wrong. The other thing that did not resolve is how it made me view myself on the gender spectrum. 

All sex work involves a bit of gender performance, but stripping as a whole is the most hard-line, binary-adjacent area of the industry I’ve dabbled in. Because everyone in the strip club is performing. The dancers are obvious, but if all a client wanted a hot woman to ogle, pornography is cheaper and easier to access. Cam girls can offer you a completely tailored and personalized experience. And no one is more discrete than a full-service worker. Part of why men go to strip clubs is to be perceived in a strip club by other men. It’s a whole gender ritual, even. Half of the men who get taken to these clubs on their birthday or bachelor party have told me in the privacy behind the curtain that they wished they had gone to play pool, camping, or whatever their friend group’s shared interest is. But outside the champagne room, they’re pinching asses,ordering bottle service and getting high-fives for how good they can play this role. 

So, on the converse side of this gender performance, strip clubs tend to encourage the most rigid portrayal of a culturally-accepted femininity, often to the point of a very bad homogenization. On that topic, the lack of racial and body diversity in strip clubs is something people with a better perspective have talked about before, including the Portland Strippers who recently unionized, and the Black Feminisms blog, check those out for more on that perspective. 

So getting ready to work at the average club is not a matter of dressing down and dolling up. You’re trying to fit a very rigid expression of femininity that, if I were a gambling man, would likely not line up with most of the dancers own personal definition of femininity. And the more “high-end” the club, the stricter and more rigid those rules. I’ve seen clubs have restrictions to what the owner thought were the “most feminine” nail polish colors. Hair length mandates. One manager inspected my midsection to make sure it “passed”; if it hadn’t I would be restricted to wearing corset-tops on the floor. 

But for me, it unlocked something personal that I did not expect. I’ve never felt particularly attached to femininity, even when I identified as a woman. Then, I began to appreciate the ritual of putting femininity on as a costume. Once I did, I instantly had an easier time enjoying it. In my subconscious it was clear that this was not me. It was a role, a gimmick I was playing at, and thereby I felt so comfortable indulging in it. The best part, though, was the other ritual at the end of each shift. Taking off the costume, and tucking it away. The blissful comfort I would feel in my own body for the several hours after a shift - no matter what happened that night, no matter how dreadful or dry - I would be reenergized. I literally got to put femininity on like a costume and then take it off again. 

I also found that it shed a light on something interesting about my relationship to girlhood, not just femininity. There are things about girlhood that have always resonated with me in a homey way, sleepover delirium and bar bathroom camaraderie, but those resonances don’t make me feel like any more of a woman. In the strip club, girlhood feels like having an army of girls meet you in the dressing room without you having to ask because they saw how ‘that guy’ was acting, throwing a separate funeral for your friend because none of you would be allowed in at the real one, boycotting a patron who hurt one of you because security refuses to boot him.

I am not a woman. I am trauma-bonded to girlhood from my time spent in the trenches with it. 

I am not a woman. I am whatever is left is left when society’s vision of femininity is shed and packed away.

I am not a woman. But I play a pretty good one when I need to.

#gender #lgbt #trans

[eichornia]

So I had a thought:

- It's 2024. Daniel is back in the grid, his hand is completely healed, his curls are thriving. He feels confident again and he's happy. He's in a low dose of antidepressants and the therapy does wonders. 2022 seems really far away.

- He's starting the season in a good mood, flirting his way through the paddock, joking with the Netflix boys. It's Thursday and they're in Australia. Australia, baby, his favourite place in the world. His family is coming to see him race, Isaac being old enough to really enjoy being in the garage. He's curious and funny and Daniel misses him a lot when he's away. He loves Isabella too, she's his princess. But she's not really interested in the sport (yet) and she's in a hardcore Bluey phase. So Isaac asks him if he can go with him to the garage and when they're there, he asks if they can go visit the Red Bull garage because he's obsessed with the RB and to be honest, with Max too. Just like his uncle, Blake likes to say. Usually that makes Daniel to show his karate moves but not for long because Blake is a scary motherfucker sometimes even if he hides it well.

- So to the RB garage they go. They chat with Christian for a bit (Do you want to run for us when you're big, Isaac?, he asks) (And Isaac says yes, yes, yes) and they dodge Helmut when he appears in the garage because he's scary and not in a nice way. (Isaac says he smells like moths and Daniel has to fight really hard not to laugh) and then they spot Max. He's talking with GP but when he sees them, he waves smiling and he talks with Isaac like he's an adult (and even invites him to look into the car and explains to him everything, twice when Isaac asks again about some things).

- And yeah, Daniel has feelings. Like, he knows he had feelings for Max since... Well, a long time ago. He knows but he was scared of being bisexual (thanks Josh Allen for fixing that) and older than Max, and he was scared of being reciprocal because yeah, like Max was his teammate? His hot, younger, faster teammate.

- But now Daniel is (even) older and has learnt to not give a fuck about what people thinks. And yeah, watching Max with his niece? It's doing things to Daniel's heart.

- So yeah, Australia is awesome, racing in Australia is even better, getting points in Australia is a dream come true after these past years. He's high on endorphins and that's his excuse to intercept Max when he's on his way to his driver room after the podium. (Hey, hi, Maxy, Maximus, I was thinking, like, congrats in the podium, by the way, good trophy and all that, but I was thinking of asking you if you wanted to come to Perth?)

- The craziest thing to happen is that Max says yes. No doubts at all, just his big smile that makes his eyes go small and a 'yes, Daniel'.

- PERTH. It goes like this: Max comes to the farm, falls in love with Daniel's house, Daniel's falls in love a bit more with him. And Max knows nothing about it because Daniel is a bit immature but he's not stupid (not about this anyway) and Max is one of his best friends and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship.

- So he says nothing and he enjoys having this week with Max in his home. They race dirt bikes, they cook together (well, they try) and they play with Isaac and Isabella when they come to visit. And then it's Sunday, a whole week has passed and they're going to fly together soon to Japan. They're enjoying the hot tub after having a nice dinner and Max is laughing at Daniel's impression of Toto and Daniel feels like his chest is filled with helium, feels high, lucky, funny. And that's his excuse to kiss Max.

- Max doesn't stop laughing for a second even in the middle of the kiss and then he stops moving and breathing and Daniel is panicking a bit. Because he knew it would ruin everything, this thing he feels for Max. But then Max's hand is in his neck, drawing him against his lips again, magnets in the dark.

- So yeah, that's a thing they do now. Making out. Heavy petting. Every time it happens, Daniel wants to flail his arms, run in circles, scream like fucking Tarzan. It's like getting a podium over and over again, it's like champagne bubbles getting trapped in his chest. Max kisses him like he races (point-blank, non-stop, making him weak at the knees) and he likes to make Daniel straddle him and he likes to caress his thighs, draw his tattoos again, the three against his lips before kissing each of his fingers.

-It makes Daniel effervescent with happiness and when they're racing in Japan, he's fourth in the race, almost a podium and he comes back to the garage and hugs everyone and laughs and almost cries because he's coming back, baby, he's so coming back. And he goes back to the hotel and doesn't go to his room, he goes straight to Max's room and he doesn't stop to think because he's going to chicken out otherwise.

- And he's on his knees.

- He's on his knees for Max, and he puts his forehead against Max's tummy and kisses his belly button and blows a raspberry against his hip and Max pushes his head away, silly-laughing, and Daniel says let me, let me, please, I won't do it again, Maxy, but let me and Max touches one of his brows and touches his hair and then brings him against his body.

- And kissing Max is like getting a podium but blowing him is getting second place, getting drunk, getting sweaty, getting high-high-high.

------------------------------------------------------

You can read the continuation here.

#f1 #maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #so yeah #not beta read #not finished either #im just leaving this here because i need it to leave my mind just for a second #otp: maxiel #my fic

[invpulse]

I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

#long post #rsd #adhd rsd #rejection sensitive dysphoria #neurodiversity #digital art #digital illustration #sfw furry #furry art #digital drawing #furry character #furry oc #furry artist #procreate #furry

[ask-the-prose]

The Self-Doubt Battle

Hi all, this week's guide is about imposter syndrome and self-doubt! This is a pretty personal subject for me because I struggle with this all the time, so I thought I'd write up a little guide for those of you who do too.

What is Imposter Syndrome?

Imposter Syndrome is a pattern of self-doubt that people (especially high achievers) feel. This pattern of self-doubt usually presents as a feeling that one is an imposter or that their achievements are due to falsehoods or faking competency. It is important to understand that Imposter Syndrome is not a clinical term and does not constitute an actual mental health condition. This is a phenomenon that occurs when people doubt themselves so thoroughly that they fear that others will view them as a fraud.

As previously stated, Imposter Syndrome is not a mental health condition that one suffers from, but instead, it is a pattern of thinking that can be overcome. If you find that this feeling is familiar to you, don't lose hope. This is not a permanent feeling, and it is not indicative of any moral or personal failing.

How do I rebuild my confidence?

This portion of the guide may sound familiar! Some of the things that work for burnout will also help rebuild your confidence and battle those persistent feelings of self-doubt. In fact, I find that self-doubt and burnout can very often go hand in hand. If you're feeling like an imposter or that you can't achieve what you want to, look really closely, talk it out with a friend, family member, or therapist, and see if maybe you're feeling burnt out instead. You might find that your self-doubt is actually exhaustion.

Let's start with self-care! It's hard to feel good about yourself when you just plain don't feel good. Self-care can help with that. It's easy to get lost among the scented candles and bubble baths, but self-care is actually much simpler than that. Have you eaten recently and regularly? Are you thirsty? Are you tired and need some sleep? Be sure to take care of your basic needs before making any judgments about yourself and your capabilities. You may find that once you feel physically better, you will feel more equipped to handle external challenges.

Is self-care not working? I consulted a couple of mental health professionals on how to combat feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy. Some of their tips included finding a source of validation or confidence boosting. It may seem like a bad thing, like fishing for compliments, but we, as human beings, crave and need validation from our peers. We're social animals! There is nothing wrong with wanting someone to say "good job" every now and then. A list of things that might help you get those moments of validation:

Is there something you know you're good at? Do a little of that! If that means drawing or dancing or sorting crayons, it doesn't matter as long as you feel good doing it.

Chat with a friend about your feelings, and you might find they feel the same way! If all of us feel that self-doubt, then maybe we're all wrong. We can't all be imposters, so look for that support and take comfort in knowing that you are not the odd one out.

Self-affirmation. This seems silly, and it's a common therapy tool, but it does work. Say to yourself what you want to believe about yourself, and eventually, you will. One self-affirmation that helps me with Imposter Syndrome and self-doubt: my achievements are real achievements. It's important to remind yourself that not only did you achieve something cool but that you did so because you are capable and not because you are fake. I'll let you in on a little secret; you can't fake success.

My final trick that may seem controversial: just ask. Everyone has felt self-doubt at one point or another. Find someone you trust and simply ask for validation. Your request can sound something like this: "I've been feeling down about my own capabilities recently. I trust you and your opinion and I was hoping you could give me some encouragement to keep going." I've found that writeblr is actually a GREAT place to find encouragement.

Rebuilding your confidence is a very personal task, and what works for one person won't always work for the next. For some people, the self-doubt goes away with a little work. For others, self-doubt can be persistent. Persistent, extreme feelings of self-doubt that result in depressive episodes or anxiety attacks may be symptoms of a larger mental health issue, and if these tips and tricks consistently fail, consider reaching out to a professional who can help you with the underlying cause of these negative feelings.

What about "fake it until you make it?"

"Fake it until you make it" is a common phrase used to encourage others with confidence issues, especially those of us who are younger or newer to an industry, craft, or hobby. In my personal experience, the usefulness of this phrase ebbs and flows with my own sense of self and my attitude toward my writing. This phrase can easily become misconstrued when a writer feels self-doubt. The purpose of this phrase is not to say that we are all imposters but that we can project confidence to others that we may not necessarily feel inside. That doesn't make you a phony. It helps you build yourself up.

Sometimes, this phrase is not so helpful. It's important to recognize that what we are faking is confidence, not competence. It is next to impossible to fake your own capabilities, but you can certainly fake a positive attitude. "Faking it" does not refer to faking success. It refers to faking unerring confidence and belief in oneself. "Making it" is about genuinely believing in yourself. You can "make it" to self-assured confidence by "faking" that confidence you want to have. In some ways, it's like a positive self-affirmation.

Conclusion

I'll repeat it here: you cannot fake success. Your achievements are real, your successes are real, and though sometimes it feels like luck, it was your skills that helped you reach your goals. Whether you believe in your skills or not, luck can only get you so far, you got yourself the rest of the way. Take pride in yourself, and remember, this feeling will pass.

– Indy

#writer problems #writing tips #writing advice #writing resources #writing help #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing guide #imposter syndrome #self doubt #writing #on writing #amwriting #writeblr

[demeterdefence]

Can we talk about how last chapter Persephone had that moment with her past self saying she'd protect her, protect herself... and then this new chapter didn't have her do anything at all except stand there. She has ONE line protesting apollo's plan and then shuts down. Everyone else is arguing for her. And like, I don't have a problem with people protecting her but. As a story it's hard to take it seriously when she has this big moment saying she'll protect herself and then nothing comes of it. She also only has SIX lines this whole chapter, and 4 of those are after leaving the press conference with Hera.

god yeah i was already so disgruntled over the "i will always protect you" thing because we KNEW it was just more classic "therapy speak" tacked on for some kind of semblance of girl power, but the next part really does just seal it in doesn't it

like i'm sorry, but persephone telling her younger self she'll "always protect you" is a lie front to back because persephone has not and likely will not do anything to address what happened to her, she has done nothing to bring her rapist to justice, she won't even let other people deal with him so the whole scene is just this random facade of girl power that is anything but. and then we dive into the actual mess of it and like

absolutely unrelated but i love how rachel cannot draw feet facing forward she has to draw them from the side so we have this anatomy twister anyways

the warning ahead of the chapter said "manipulation that causes psychological distress" so couple that with the "i will always protect you" from last chapter, you have either persephone realizing how wholly out of her depth she is at doing that, or you have rachel thinking this is? somehow protective?

like okay it's cool you're angry i guess so are you going to do anything about it? are you going to tell all the people watching live that apollo is a rapist? are you going to point to any of the many gods milling around who know what happened (hermes, for example) and say "hey, these guys can vouch for me that apollo is a predator, he has hurt me before and i have good reason to suspect he's trying to do so again."

classic copy paste of panels to meet the panel count but also two former love interests of persephone get to be the one to point out the logical fallacy! interesting!

i forgot about that stupid drill lol but yeah that sure looks like protecting nineteen year old persephone i guess

and i'm not trying to be coy or nitpicky because again, we are talking about facing a rapist who has caused unimaginable damage and it's very easy for people who haven't gone through that to say "just say something persephone!!!" so my frustration isn't necessarily with persephone herself, it's rachel insisting in the narrative that persephone is healed and getting better and stronger and then failing all across the board to show it. it's rachel having hera come in at the last second to save persephone, while the male admirers in persephone's life fight the male abuser. and it's downright insulting that all the times persephone has had a quote unquote "girlboss moment" it's when she's bullying lesser beings or those who simply cannot defend themselves against her. when she's up against a force that frightens her or is stronger than her, she lets other people do the work. it's just so absolutely disrespectful to abuse victims, to the concept of abuse, and to the idea that persephone is protecting anyone, least of all herself.

#answered #anti lo #anti lore olympus #abuse ment / #assault ment / #rereading this chapter to get my evidence and wow the mess is just lying out there #like u really live like this rachel? #like i WANT the scene to WORK #i want her to protect herself!!! #but she's got to do the work! she's got to face the monsters!!! #thank u so much for the ask once again i am fighting rachel at dawn

[baronessblixen]

Prompt? Mulder and Scully pick out baby furniture and later talk about baby names? Or one or the other, I'm happy either way! 🙈

Look who's answering a five-year-old prompt! I think this was supposed to be about the new baby, but I wrote about William instead.

Fluff, set after "Alone": With Mulder being unemployed, and Scully on maternity leave, they spend their time thinking about furniture, baby names, and all the ways their lives will change. (wc: 1,378)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 14: Preparation is Everything

Fox Mulder is a new man.

His naked body is still adorned with pale scars, but they’re healing, slowly fading away. Soon, they will be gone, and with them the only proof of what he went through. How many people can claim to have come back from the death? Mulder doesn’t even want to know.

The other day, Scully left a pamphlet for group therapy on his coffee table. His first instinct was to throw it into the trash, but then he reconsidered. Scully isn’t pushing him. No one is. They’re all just glad he’s back among the living. Well, most of them. He bets that Kersh can’t wait for him to die for real. That feeling, he realizes, is mutual.

When he stood in front of Kersh's desk, his former boss barely able to contain his glee, he was ready to fight. To defend himself and go on another rampage. That feeling lasted all of five seconds. Not worth it, a voice inside him whispered. He thought of Scully, and the baby, and knew that they were the only thing that mattered to him now. They didn’t need him jumping off oil rigs. He’s caused Scully seven years of grief and he was done. Enough was enough. Someone else could take over the X-Files. He may not trust Doggett yet, but Scully does. And when Scully trusts someone, he knows they’re good people.

So, he’s Fox Mulder now. Just Fox Mulder. Unemployed bum, spending time at his partner’s apartment whenever she lets him, and trying to figure out what to do next.

“What are you doing?” Mulder asks as he steps into the living room where Scully sits on the couch, engrossed in a colorful catalog.

“Looking at baby furniture,” she replies with a sigh.

“I thought- I thought you already had everything.”

“I thought I’d have more time,” she admits sheepishly, biting her lip. Seeing his Scully unprepared for anything just makes him love her more. But he knows better than to tease her.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Mulder says, sitting down next to her. “We both have plenty of time. With me being fired, and you on maternity leave, we have all the time in the world. Let’s go shopping.”

“Mulder, we have the catalog.” She points at a crib with a smiling baby inside of it. Mulder thinks it looks a bit like an alien. “We can order everything we need.”

“Or,” he says, drawing the word out. “We can go into a store and pick things out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want the kid to sleep in a thing that looks like this.” He points at the ugliest crib he’s ever seen. “$1000? Does it come with the whole apartment? Come on, Scully. It’s going to be a nice trip to Babies'R'Us.”

*

“Does no one work anymore?” Mulder mumbles as he and Scully step into the crowded baby store. There are squeaky bright colors everywhere and Mulder doesn’t know where to start. He keeps close to Scully’s side, but she, too, seems overwhelmed by the sheer size of this place.

“Wish you were hunting monsters instead?” he asks Scully and she gives him a small smile.

“At least we have experience with that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mulder assures her. “Look, that’s the baby section. Let’s start there.”

In the end, it’s not as difficult as either of them thought it would be. It doesn’t take them long to find the essentials. They both fall in love with the same crib and Mulder gets so excited that he kisses her quickly and noisily in front of another family, not caring at all.

“Mulder.” Her cheeks are coloring and she’s looking around nervously. Old habits die hard.

“I doubt we’ll run into Skinner or Kersh here, Scully. Or anyone we know. Either way, we’re not working together anymore, are we?” The realization hits him that he’s telling the truth. As of right now, they’re no longer work partners. There’s nothing holding them together. He’s not even FBI anymore.

“Are you all right?” Scully touches his chest.

“I’m- I just realized that we’re no longer partners.”

“Are you leaving me?” There’s no worry in her voice, but rather amusement.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mulder, we don’t need to be working together in the basement to be partners. You know that, right? We are partners in this.” She takes his hand and puts it on her stomach. “Unless you-”

“Oh, I want. I’m all in, Scully. I hope you know that?” She nods, and he sees a few tears pool in the corner of her eyes. He almost ruined another moment with his insecurities.

“Do you think we have everything we need for now?”

“You’re tired,” Mulder states and she doesn’t deny it.

“And hungry,” she says with an apologetic smile.

“We’ll get you and Junior something to eat. Let’s get out of here.”

*

Their baby is a pizza lover. They may not know much about their child yet, but they do know that. Mulder watches Scully happily lick her fingers clean after eating a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza and thinks he might even be a little turned out by her enjoyment of it.

“Happy now?” he asks her, unable to hide his own happiness.

“Very much so. I just- I need to get comfortable.” She’s half sitting, half lying on the couch, and watching him with curious eyes. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Who can blame her? After all, she had to bury him. Had to try and make peace with him being gone and having to do all of this on her own. He doesn’t want to think about missing all of this. He’s missed so much already. The moment she found out. The morning sickness. Her growing belly. He missed all of it. He can only try to make up for all of it now. But they will never get that time back.

“Mulder, stop,” she says gently, a hand on his thigh. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Can you?” he asks with a sad smile.

“I wish I could turn back the time and-”

“None of this is your fault, Scully.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“Debatable.”

“Not debatable,” she says firmly. “You’re here now and it’s everything- Mulder, it’s everything.”

“You know you’ll see a lot of me now, right? With me being out of a job. I need to- I will find something. We can’t let Junior think I’m some kind of slob.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Scully whispers as if she were sharing a secret.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” She winks at him and they both laugh softly. A truce.

“Have you thought about names for Junior?” Mulder asks as Scully snuggles into his side. He puts his arm around her and, a bit more hesitantly, lets his hand wander to her stomach. What a miracle they’ve created together.

“I have a few ideas. What about you?”

“It’s your decision.”

“Mulder.”

“No, I think you should decide. I’ll veto if it’s something like… Nimrod.”

“Too bad. That was my favorite.” She grins up at him. “I was thinking about all the people we lost. Samantha and Melissa. We could pick something similar to that, to honor them. Or give them a name with no memories attached. Give them a fresh start.”

“They deserve a fresh start.” Mulder kisses her temple.

“All of us do,” Scully says, putting her hand on top of Mulder’s on her stomach. “We’ll know what to call him when we see him.”

“Him?” Mulder asks.

“Or her.”

“You know,” Mulder says, closing his eyes, and letting his imagination take over. “I think our child is going to change the world. Save it even, maybe. They’re going to do great things.” He can see it. Can see their child grow up from baby to child, to teenager and adult. He can’t wait to be there and watch every single step they take. Holding their hand if they need him to.

“I think you’re right, Mulder,” Scully says.

“You hear that, baby?” Mulder presses his ear to her stomach, murmuring the words against the fabric of her shirt. “Your mom just said I’m right.”

#fictober23 #so proud of myself seriously #not the oldest prompt i might add #i was *this* close to writing angst #ohhh and i will #but you get fluff today #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[sukifoof]

I was thinking about Asriel as the Royal Scientist, and I remember in one post you said in the tags, how you considered drawing him as one for your Asriel survives AU, before saying you can't imagine him holding down any job without freaking out

Now, I'm not asking you to draw him anyway, I'll be fine either way. It is just important context cuz that's what gave me my personal thoughts right now about him, and I wanted to spread them because I think they're optimistic in the end, if cliché and generic (warning, I'm really bad at sympathizing with other people, so I might be just, completely wrong about what I say next)

I have little doubt Asriel would be very lost at first about what he is going to do with his life now that The Barrier is gone. Typical confusion after exiting a time loop, compounded by the years of untouched trauma and other mental health issues. Maybe spiralling further as he may consider himself a burden for all those problems he can't handle on his own

He would try resuming being The Prince, go back to what he thinks people want of him, but it's not going to work, he distrusts himself too much after everything he has done. When he inevitably fails, he hits a new low. But eventually, perhaps with Frisk's encouragement, he finds it in himself to open up about it, talk to other people, seek help

Alphys, who in a very real sense is his creator (slightly more metaphorical in this AU, but she's still the one who woke him up from his coma), and one of the few people who know how he works, might be one of the first people that Asriel speaks to about his problems, feeling that she'd understand. They talk to each other about the regrets that they have, bonding over similar troubles, and maybe shared interests (bonding as friends. Alphys is faithful to her wife, and Asriel is on the aspec, so it doesn't go further)

At some point one of them might just naturally suggest that Asriel help out around the lab, and while he's helping, and they're talking with each other, Alphys realizes just how much knowledge about all sorts of things Asriel has, and one day she offers that he become a full-time assistant at her lab. This freaks him out, and in the moment he rejects it and runs away, which both of them later despair over, in a sense of "oh god I was to hard on him/her, now I destroyed our friendship, I'm the worst, I can't do anything right"

But eventually they talk to each other about it (encouraged by their friends) and they realize that neither is harboring any resentment towards the other, and they make amends. Asriel starts out working with her part-time, and while it's initially very scary for him, and he probably has several other freakouts along the way, I think Alphys, being prone to freakouts herself, would be more than understanding. Eventually he becomes her full-time assistant after all

Hopefully combined with therapy which he really, really should receive, he eventually starts feeling good about himself again, even if it takes years to get there. And he realizes, yes, this is the job he wants to do. He can help people without actually having to be there, with a much more manageable amount of responsibility to handle. He's finally happy, as the Assistant Royal* Scientist (* although at this point it is possible that Asgore and Toriel would abdicate, seeing as their son won't take over from them, it might just be easier to end the monarchist government right then and there)

Of course, while Asriel is immortal, Alphys is not, and as the decades pass, she will get older, weaker, less able to do her job. The day when she resigns from her post to let the (physically) younger Asriel become the next Royal Scientist will be a difficult one for both of them, and even more so when she finally turns to dust, although I hope that by this point he would be better equipped to handle the loss of those close to him. It will still hurt, but I hope with new experiences and skills he's learned over the years, he'll be able to deal with that pain, or the pain when his parents or his other friends die, better than he did with the pain of Chara's death

Frankly, not being seen as royalty anymore, especially by the younger generations who won't remember monarchist rule, he might find life easier as he's no longer so isolated as he was as a prince, no longer has to reach the same standards as before

The trauma, and other pain that follows, they will never fully leave him, but he's got a quite literal eternity to learn how to live with them and not let them control his life. And if mortals can do it, then I think he too can, over the course of several years, or even decades, figure it out. I think, as fucked up as he is, at the end of this nightmare road there is happiness waiting for him, however long it takes him to get there. I just want him to be happy goddammit. And I think that a 30-or-40-something Asriel will be happy

Thanks you for listening to my TED talk, and have a magical day

HI IVE BEEN MEANING TO ANSWER THIS FOR SO LONG CUZ ITS SO GOOD AND IN CHARACTER!!! u are so right for this i LOVE this i dont have much to add on cuz ur points are all so good. asriel has so many issues and i think he would probably feel a Bit Better if he was able to put his knowledge to use to help people and it might help him come to terms with death a little better..... anyway they are siblings and they occasionally bother each other. extremely kind mayor who took over after papyrus and local freak scientist who is seemingly some kind of sludge <3 i may draw more of this when i get the chance cuz the idea of these middle aged freaks is so funny to me i love them dearly

#undertale #utdr #asriel #asriel dreemurr #flowey #frisk #livingprinceau #utdr analysis

[pianocat939]

Hi cat would it be ok to request a headcanon for yandere leo and mikey (separate please )x therapist reader? just like how you did with raph's and Donnie’s version? also love your writings! <3 (the cycle is now complete ~)

I don't have a banner for any duos obv so have photo

I kept this as platonic/romantic as much as possible, but a few points it's solely romantic.

Tw: mention of violence/manipulation, Mikey is starting a religion of MC, religious themes- quite a bit

Yan Leo + Yan Mikey with Therapist MC

(I'm gonna try out white stars this time-)

✦Lactose Broccoli✦

HOHOHOHO- He is getting his face smacked with the "please tell me your true feelings and not laugh it off for once". Now, at first, it's going to be difficult for him since he's always just used humour to push away his problems and mental instability. He's gonna be vague at first, only saying the simplest of things. But later on, will he admit all his feelings and thoughts affecting him.

Once he breaks through, he'll be the clingiest and most vulnerable mf known to mankind with his feelings. For example, let's say he comes back from a mission. The first thing he will do is talk about what he hated or what he had problems with to get it out of his head. Right after, he might ask for some cuddles or hugs.

But after you've helped him for a while, he's filled with the overwhelming need to pay you back. So what better way to show gratitude than to protect someone? He'll then be all about protecting you and being your prince charming who saves you from the witch's wrath.

Oh and- he'll get jealous quickly if you be someone else's therapist. If it's his family, he'll be more tolerant of anyone else? Dead. If you ever confront him about doing anything violent/manipulative with whoever you were helping, he'll just say he does it to keep you safe and not so stressed. When in reality, he wants to be the sole one of your attention.

"Darlinggg~ Can I have some snuggles~? I was so stressed from my battle." *insert whiny 1000*

✦Macaron Burner✦

Mikey is the one who's supposed to be the therapist. But he now gets the reverse card on him. I think he'll be both the easiest and hardest to expose all his feelings. From what I interpret, he'll say the surface and a few details of his personal problems and feelings. More than Leo, but still not absolute. But unlike Leo, who breaks all of his problems at once, Mikey is gradual. With every session, he tells more and more of his issues.

I think getting therapy opens a new perspective on him since he's always the therapist instead. So from then on, he'll be more reliant on others' help when it comes to repairing or assisting with the social or mental problems of others. He appreciates sharing the "workload" with you on any of his brothers.

After a few sessions, his delusions of you being his divinity get so much worse holy fuck. He'll fully believe that you are a higher being who had come down from whatever sacred realm to help him. He thinks you're so sacred that any advice or suggestions you give him he will follow no matter what.

He values your help so much that he will write "holy" texts based on your suggestions and advice to him. Once they're done, he will use those texts like some fucking prayer or worshipping book omg- he will make you into a religion. If you ever stumble upon them and find him suspicious, he'll just say it's "notes" of what you told him.

*Mikey is currently staring at a drawing he did of you in a religious outfit* "Oh my divinity~ I will never forget your guidance towards my self-worth."

——————————————————

I'm cranking through my inbox like crazy- they've been sitting there since the end of January omg-

Anyway- eat your goddamn food.

- Celina

#yandere #yandere x reader #rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo x reader #mikey x reader #rise leo #rise mikey

[thatgirl4815]

Only Friends Series Review/Themes

And so we've finally reached the end. It's been wild ride. I find it difficult to put a number to a review, but I think the series as a whole managed to tackle quite a few conflicts relatively seamlessly, and as a whole I think they delivered on the "messiness" that was promised (even though things could always be messier, such as giving Sand a bat...but I digress). I'll look at each couple independently and discuss their characters within that.

Sand/Ray

Goes without saying that Sand and Ray were the main draw for me, and despite all the fears and discourse throughout, they were a solid endgame. There was no ambiguity, no open-ending--just pure happiness in that car on the rooftop. I ended the episode with a smile on my face. Not to mention that montage of them dancing in the streets and on the stairs. I had a grin on my face the whole time.

As a whole, I think SandRay's relationship meant a lot to both characters, more than they ever meant it too that night they first met in the bar. Considering where each couple started and how negative things were at the onset, I think theirs is the most poignant ending. As Ray says in the finale, Sand gives him a purpose and goal to work towards. Ray is now in a position where he can better himself. As someone who seems to have spent so much of his life feeling unwanted, Sand is the one who shows him that he is more. It's unfortunate that this had to come at a price for Sand at times, but the fact that they were able to work past their issues says the most about their dynamic. As far as communication goes, they say what they mean and own up to their mistakes. SandRay's superpower: "thank you's" and "I'm sorry's." Especially from Ray--yes, he tends to act like an asshole, but he knows it. He's self aware. There's an element of self-fulfilling prophecy guiding his actions a lot of the time I think, because if "I'm such a burden, why try to be anything different?" Ray gives in to fatalistic thinking, but it is Sand who talks him back from the edge time and time again. Sand is a caretaker and Ray is someone in need of caretaking. What blossoms from that starting dynamic is truly beautiful. They're very different people, but that's what makes them best suited for each other. Regardless of everything else, they make each other happy. There was never anything in this series that made me doubt that connection.

If I was to find fault in their storyline, it would be in the final two episodes. Everything up to that point was very well-executed, but Boeing was brought in at the wrong time. Possessive Ray is good, but not at this late stage of the series. Additionally, Sand's reaction to Boeing will never not frustrate me, as even though it may be in character, I never felt the weight of what it is Sand is going through in regards to Boeing. This could've been resolved in a flashback or more discussion of their relationship...something. Instead, Boeing was a throwaway plot device that was there to stir the pot for a few episodes before being conveniently discarded. Unfortunate. What I would've loved to see was more of Ray's rehab and any conflicts stemming from that, especially because this is such an important topic to discuss.

Favorite Scene: Favorite SandRay scene is honestly up in the air--there are too many good ones. I'd say it's between the montage in the last episode, the record store scene in Ep4, the cheek kiss in Ep9, or the therapy scene in Ep10. I know Sand wasn't there for the therapy scene, but that was such an important moment for Ray's character that I feel a special attachment to it.

Top/Mew

Anyone who has seen my comments on TopMew knows that I've never been the most fond of their relationship. I agree with what some others have said in the past that they're much more compelling on their own rather than together. Additionally, Top had the potential to be fleshed out much more than he was, as was hinted at with his traumatic backstory early on. Instead, both he and Mew were left to dwell in mediocrity.

My problem with TopMew is that their relationship never seemed to go anywhere. They had discussions about their feelings and concerns, but the progression always felt very minimal. When the cheating plotline came into effect, it felt like three episodes of the same cycle: Top apologizing, begging for Mew's forgiveness, Mew's resistance, Mew secretly still having feelings for Top that he can't reconcile, Mew lashing out, Top getting upset, and repeat.

Beyond that, I just felt a general lack of chemistry between them. This is not meant to be a ForceBook criticism, because I'm sure they do genuinely have good chemistry together. But the relationship altogether felt tense. If there was any word I would use to describe TopMew, it would be that. Even when Mew gave in to Top, it never felt like he truly gave in. As an audience member, Mew's obstinance and inflexibility made me frustrated more often than not. I find this last point especially interesting because out of all characters, I'm probably most similar to Mew in my real life.

I do have to hand it to the writers though--a cheating plotline is not easy to deal with. While I feel like TopMew were pushed together in the end, whether it truly made sense or not, I do admire that they tried so hard to show us their efforts to work through their issues.

Favorite Scene: I like the scene from Ep11 where Top cries and essentially lays out all his feelings. It felt like one of the most honest things we've seen from him. There were other sweeter scenes that I liked earlier on, like the cafe date where they talk about lasik, but it was harder to enjoy plot points early on with TopBoston's hookup lurking in the back of my mind.

Boston/Nick

The only couple that didn't get a happy ending. Honestly, as per my predictions at the beginning of the series, this didn't come as much of a surprise, though it did feel a bit rushed. Similar to TopMew, I do admire that the writers were not afraid to show how deeply entrenched Boston is in his promiscuous lifestyle that he is unable to break away from it. I also think Boston's character brings up a lot of interesting discussions about morality and how we perceive men, particularly queer men, leading this kind of lifestyle. I touch on this topic as well as pacing in this ask, so I won't get into too much detail here.

There have been many discussions about BostonNick's relationship in the context of ephemerality. I've been thinking lately how Boston's entire character is built on this idea: he doesn't want anything long-term, and he's content drifting from person to person and place to place making rash decisions along the way. This way of thinking has led him to disregard the consequences of his actions.

There are two specific points in this episode where Boston and Nick's flaws are addressed: once when Mew tells Boston that he should look to make a change within himself, and another time when Nick admits that he wants to start caring for himself more.

Boston and Nick can ultimately get more out of their relationship now that its ended more than they ever could while they were together. And though I might have my gripes with the execution (the pacing, more specifically), I do think this takeaway is important in the greater scheme. Nick now knows more about what he wants and deserves, and Boston now knows more about what kind of commitments he's willing to make and the honest communication required for any bond.

What's also interesting to me is that Boston's lesson here isn't confined to his romantic relationships. Boston going to NYC is a convenient escape from the mess he's created, but it really is a new start for him, a chance to start anew and actually contend with what he knows is wrong. That scene on the rooftop between BostonNick in Ep10 means something: Boston knows he's destructive. He knows he's a bad guy. And oddly enough, I think that's the most hopeful sign for him.

The only other gripe I have with this relationship is that it felt like they were secondary to the other two couples, particularly in the way they were treated in the final minutes. I know Boston left for NYC and Nick hasn't been involved in the hostel throughout the series, but I still wish Nick would've gotten to partake...maybe with Dan on his arm? Unfortunately we're left guessing about how Nick is doing.

Favorite Scene: The scene on the rooftop from Ep10 was so sweet. It really felt like a solid coming-back-together for them. I'm sad it didn't work out, but I also feel like this was the most satisfying conclusion.

Drawbacks

Inevitably, there were some issues that I took with the series throughout, many of which I already mentioned above. Some are general and some are rather specific...

Boeing. Pretty much everything about Boeing felt tacked on for dramatic effect. He felt like a shallow villain because his motives weren't fully fleshed out. We can infer that he's egotistical and selfish, chasing after Top and pursuing Sand after when he doesn't get his way. But his relationship with Sand needed more fleshing out and could've benefitted from better placement. If Boeing had entered the conflict when Ray was still in a "relationship" with Mew, that would've escalated the conflict between SandRay more by showing Ray how fragile his situation is.

Atom situation being brushed under the rug. Many others have commented on this, so I won't belabor it. But accusing someone of SA, even if that person is as cruel as Boston, is never okay. Atom apologized for it, yeah, but Cheum's apology did not satisfy me.

Moral superiority. This is not a criticism exactly, but I really wish some characters' moral superiority would've been addressed/called out more (I'm thinking of Mew and Cheum). I also wish this would've come into play in discussions about Ray's addiction problem.

Some scene cuts: tattoo bit being cut out of Ep5. I'm glad they put it back in, but it was frustrating that it was removed in the first place.

I never saw First Kanaphan holding a bat in this series. It's all I wanted, seriously. All criticisms would've been wiped away if they'd only let him hold one. (Points back for that TopSand kiss though. The way Sand pushed him back against the couch...man had been wanting to vent his anger for a long time.)

Mew getting lasik. Glasses for the win.

WE NEED MORE MIX! That last scene with Mix has been on my mind all day. He made such an impact on me with his cameo that I only think what could've been if he'd had more of a role.

Overarching Themes

I won't go into too much depth on these since this post is already getting massive, but some core themes that I think stand out in this finale (and just overall):

Ephemerality: specifically related to BostonNick, but there's been some extensive meta on its application overall.

Boundaries:

Self-respect: I think this tends to go hand-in-hand with boundaries as a theme.

Self-love: @thegalwhorants made a great post about this earlier on in the series here, particularly with Ray's character.

Polyamory/Promiscuity: I wouldn't classify this as a "theme" exactly, but it's worth mentioning how a series like this tackles the idea of promiscuity and sexual relationships and what other series can gain from that kind of discussion.

Okay! I'm sure I'll think of more things to add to this, but my mind has been buzzing since that finale. Overall, I'm satisfied. There are issues, and some plot points towards the ends started to feel sloppy and rushed, but those were not pressing enough to damage my overall opinion of the show. I know this will remain one of my favorites from GMMTV for a long while.

Tagging the ephemerality squad for my discussion of ephemerality in regards to Boston and Nick and the themes mentioned above: @waitmyturtles @ranchthoughts, @chickenstrangers, @twig-tea, @neuroticbookworm, @lurkingshan, @distant-screaming, @clara-maybe-ontheroad

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #sandray #raysand #topmew #bostonnick #only friends meta #only friends episode 12 #only friends finale #raysan #sanray #firstkhaotung #forcebook #neomark #firstkhao #ephemerality squad

[petertingle-yipyip]

DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER - MATT MURDOCK

finale - devil on my shoulder

tags: @astrobees @americaarse @dusstory @johnmurphys-sass @ironprincessstranger @ahoytherebean // nine // bonus chapter // masterlist

Pairing: Daredevil x Reader (Matt x Reader)

Word Count: 11,816

Summary: Daredevil, Exodus, and Elektra v. The Hand. Three go in, two go out and nothing is quite the same between the ones who remain.

You were lying on Matt’s living room floor after tying up Stick, at Matt’s request. He told you to hang out on the couch or in one of the chairs but you waved him off, saying you’d hate to stain them. You were flat on your back instead, mask sitting at your throat and hands folded over your stomach.

What you thought was funny about that moment was that neither of you had actually told the other your secret, yet you were so comfortable around each other it was like you already knew.

“Do you even have a plan?” Stick challenged.

Matt was quiet as he thought for a moment. You turned your head to face him, partly wondering the same thing.

“I’m working on it.” He answered finally.

“You got me.” You called from the floor. “That’s a start, no?”

He offered you a small, grateful smile. “Yeah.. Yeah it is.”

“While you’re working on it, do me a favor and pull your head out of your ass. The Black Sky-“

“The Black Sky is the same type of manipulative, peer pressure tactic that was used on me growing up.” You cut in, sitting up quickly and almost instantly regretting it. “I used to think that whatever made me good at this-“ You shook your wrists. “-meant it was who I was always gonna be. Then I learned that it just takes the right people and some effort.”

“You think love and therapy are gonna help Ellie?” Stick mocked. “I guess I was wrong about you.”

“And I would care why?”

“You’re just as naive as he is. What are you two going to do about the war?”

“What I’m good at.” You shrugged and got to your feet. “Because it’s my choice. And El should get to choose too.”

You left after that, heading up to the roof to check on Elektra. You found her standing on the ledge, and if that were anyone else, the sight would’ve been startling.

“Came a long way since college, eh?” You tried as you came and stood beside her. When she turned to face you, you gestured to your suit and tugged your mask lightly. “Never would’ve seen me in this back then.”

She cracked just the smallest smile and it only lasted a second.

“How can you be so calm?” She asked in gentle disbelief. “I’m the Black Sky!”

“And I’m a Black Widow.” You countered. “I’ve probably killed more people than you have. I’ve had to leave everyone at some point… Yet we both ended up here, in Hell’s Kitchen, with Matt. Gotta admit, could be a point to it.”

“You think Matthew can save me?”

“I think he’ll try… He tried like hell to change me. I went for months with this little voice in my head, the Devil on my shoulder, chirping at me to do the right thing.” You chuckled slightly. “And I swore I’d never get mixed up with him again, yknow? Try to keep safe from that little Devil. He just knows me so well that he kept looping me back in… Everytime I think I’m free, he’s calling me and pulling me right back in.”

“But he gave up. And eventually, he’ll give up on me.”

“He won’t.” You gently put a hand on her elbow. “You are different to him than I am. In this suit, I’m not… I’m not the person he knows. You are still Elektra, whether you’re in this outfit or a dress or a t-shirt.”

“I really wanted to be better, for him…”

“I get it. And I’m not saying it’s the wrong reason to change but, El, what do you want to do for yourself?”

“I don’t know…” She said sadly.

“Can I give you an opinion?”

“Everyone else has.” She sighed heavily.

“I think that Matt brings out the good in both of us. He sees something in each of us that maybe we don’t always see in ourselves. But at the end of the day, I do this to protect people. What I think you need to figure out - Black Sky or not, doesn’t matter right now. You need to decide why you draw your sword. Why do you put on that mask? Is it for you or for them?” You gestured to the city.

“You still love him?”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“But you do?”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“Everything you’ve done has been for him.” She chuckled slightly, almost like she was in awe of you. “Coming back here. This vigilante persona. All of it was to be close to him.”

“None of that matters now, because it’s not up to us who he chooses to be with. As much as I’d rather it be me than you, I can’t make that choice for him.”

“You could.”

“Let me rephrase. I won’t.” You answered firmly. “El, I don’t want to make this about my feelings for Matt.”

“He’d be better with you than me.. I think he likes you better.”

“Elektra.”

“You know it’s true..”

“It’s not my decision.”

“When this is over, I won’t come back.”

“You can leave him like that?”

“I’d want him to come with me. Would you.. Would you be able to let him go?”

You were quiet as the thought of Matt leaving you settled deep in your stomach. All you could do was nod.

“You won’t even fight me on that?” She exclaimed in disbelief.

“It’s up to him. It’s his future..” You shrugged, though the thought dug daggers into your heart. “Just like your future is up to you.”

“Leave us alone, Matthew.” She grumbled, not moving from the ledge.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked, trying to make light.

“A bit but it’s fine..” You nodded with a small smile. “I think we were coming up on a circular argument anyway.”

Elektra scoffed lightly in clear annoyance.

“Whatever you’re feeling, it’ll pass.” Matt tried.

“What do you know about what I’m feeling?” She challenged.

“Just consider the possibility that there’s no such thing as a Black Sky… That it’s all mysticism, yknow? It’s nonsense.”

“I’ve been trained to kill it since I was a kid.”

“Maybe everything they taught you was a lie.”

“It’s not that easy.” You admitted. “I’ve been away from the Red Room for a long time and it’s still carved into my brain like a prophecy… It still makes me question who I am. You watch me struggle with it every night so you know that.”

“He told me I had a gift… The special kind, the kind very few people have.” She insisted.

“Dreykov told me basically the same thing… That I was different, that if I could harness my gift I’d be a revolutionary. He told me the world didn’t deserve me, but he would teach me to be worthy of that gift… But at the end of the day, that man was abusing helpless little girls and using them to fight his war.”

“Training children to fight a war is easy when you’re using cookie cutter wisdom that sounds good to them.” Matt added, standing on Elektra’s other side.

“Some of what the Hand does defies explanation.” Elektra urged and you had to give it to her on that one.

“Just because I don’t understand something doesn’t mean I’m ready to chalk it up as some fairy tale.” He reasoned.

“I’m sorry, is this coming from the Catholic altar boy?” You teased and he rolled his eyes at you.

“True or not, legend says once they have the Black Sky, they’ll be capable of anything.” Elektra explained. “It’s not about what I’m willing to do. Even in a cage, I’ll be their false idol. They’ll do terrible things in my name because they think the Black Sky makes them invincible.”

“They can’t have you. You don’t belong to anyone.” He shook his head.

“You’re incredibly smart, strong, and powerful.” You said honestly. “You are Elektra Natchios. No one can tell you what to do, who to be, or what to be. It’s all up to you… Always has been.”

“We can take them down. Not Stick’s way. We can do it our way… The three of us.”

“You would trust me after all I’ve put you through?” She asked in disbelief, but deep in her chest, you felt those sparks. Matt was bringing back something Elektra thought was long forgotten and you couldn’t help but feel that if she asked him to leave with her, he would.

“The Hand can mask their heartbeats… But yours has always been loud and clear.” He leaned around Elektra. “Yours too.”

“Oh, bullshit.” You shook your head. “You can’t read me.”

“Not completely… But I’m starting to figure you out when you let me.”

You scoffed lightly with a small smile as you turned back to Elektra. “You could’ve killed me earlier and I would’ve let you… Mieux vaut mourir à la lame d'un ami que à la lame d'un ennemi… But you didn’t. Personally, I think there’s some merit in that.” (Better to die at the blade of a friend than the blade of an enemy.)

“Some stories say Nobu has lived three lifetimes, a criminal record that goes back decades. True or not, he’s the head of the snake.” Elektra explained. “He’s our best chance at taking down the Hand.”

“It’s a simple job then.. Find Nobu. And finish him.” You shrugged.

“No. We get him away from the Hand without alerting his troops.” Matt countered.

You groaned quietly and rolled your eyes.

“Killing him only makes him a martyr.” He reasoned. “I wanna dethrone him. Show his cult that their holy man is nothing but a guy.”

“An empty throne is an invitation for someone else.” You warned. “But if you’re sure…”

“We’ll have to find him first.” Elektra sighed.

“I say we head straight into the lion’s den. The last thing they’re expecting is us to hit back at them right now.”

“You’d risk everything for me?”

He simply smiled back at her.

“So how do we do it then?”

You sighed to yourself and stepped back off the ledge. You had wondered, when Elektra came back into town, just got much of Matt still belonged to her. In times of crisis, he only belonged to her. But if you could really defeat the Hand, would he still put her first? Could he really be okay with the ease she killed with?

And even though Matt said he wanted balance and so nearly confessed he wanted you, maybe there would always be an exception for Elektra, a hope that somewhere deep down they really can make it work.

You also wondered - if only for a moment - if he only accepted Exodus as a friend and ally because you reminded him of Elektra.

“Not alone… We do it together.” He explained before turning towards you. “That means you too, Ex.”

“Huh? Yeah.. Yeah, I’m in.” You nodded.

“You don’t sound sure.” His head tilted.

“It’s nothing, we’re good.”

He took a step to turn his body fully towards you. Elektra turned too, offering a slightly concerned expression. You looked between the two and ran through a thousand scenarios, of who Matt would pick. Where he and Elektra could go. What a life together could look like.

“Ex?” He tried and your attention focused back on him. “I need you with me.”

“I know.. I’ll be there.”

He flashed you a thankful smile and you relaxed a bit. You knew that he was still unsure what distracted you and it worried him, he knew better than to press for a confession.

“C’mon.” He took Elektra’s hand, though dropping the topic was by no means an acceptance of what you said. “We gotta go see Melvin.”

“Who’s Melvin?” Your brows furrowed since as far as you knew, Matt didn’t know a Melvin.

“Guy who made my suit and made that.” He gestured to you.

“Oh.. Make sure you tell him thanks then.” You nodded and headed back to the door to Matt’s apartment.

“You’re not coming?” Elektra asked.

“Don’t need to.” You shrugged. “I got this.” You tapped one of the plates of your top. “I got these.” You shook your staffs. “I don't need anything else… I’ll just go home and reload.”

“Exodus.” Elektra tried and you couldn’t tell why.

“It’s getting a little too… romancy.” You gave her a pointed look. “Just call when you’re ready, Red.”

You went home and tossed your mask on your table on your way into the kitchen. You washed your hands in the sink, ringing out your gloves and watching the sink be stained red before you threw some leftover pizza in the microwave. As the food warmed, you headed to your bedroom and pulled your case out. You put a couple more shock discs in your belt and checked the charge on your Bites. You switched your bloody knives for new ones and packed another wire cartridge. You stopped in the bathroom to wash the blood off your face before heading back for your food.

You sat at your table, taking a deep breath and blowing the steam off your pizza.

Jumping right back into a fight with the Hand wasn’t how you want to spend your night. You wanted calm, peace to process and begin accepting some of your grief. But it felt like you were running from it, same way you ran from everything else in your past.

It’s what you do best, right?

Maybe running from it made it less real. If you could get away from those feelings, even just momentarily, you could pretend it didn’t happen. You could pretend that you could pick up your phone and call Frank, see if he was able to get a drink. You could just exist without looking over your shoulder and throwing a punch.

But you chose that life, the vigilante life. Things wouldn’t be simple so long as Exodus existed.

The sound of your phone going off made you jump slightly.

“Ready?” You said, a mouthful of pizza.

“Are you eating?” He laughed slightly.

“Yeah, leftover pizza. You want some?” You said sarcastically. “Where are we meeting?”

“I need you to meet me at the 15th precinct first.”

“For?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Be there in five.” You threw on your mask and damp gloves before hurrying out your fire escape and into the city.

As you got to the precinct, you found Matt and Brett outside on the fire escape.

“The masked vigilante is the only one I can trust.” He said sarcastically. “And his little friend.”

“Я заслуживаю большего признания, чем это.” You rolled your eyes as you stood beside Matt. “Why am I here?” (I deserve more credit than that.)

“What happened?” Matt asked Brett.

“Knew it was just a matter of time till you two showed up… Again.”

“Speaking of time, you’re wasting ours.. Can you get to the point?” You sighed.

“This ain’t the first time some asshole roughed me up. This job, it ain’t easy. But then he said they got eyes on my mom. Said they were gonna kill her, even put her on the phone.”

“Who?”

“No idea… Worked for someone big though. They wanted everything we had on you two.”

“Couldn’t be that much.”

“You’d be surprised to know that we do keep track of two things really well. Incident reports-“ He glared at you. “-and records of people you put away.” He focused on Matt. “They wanted to know everyone you saved.”

“They’re making it personal now.” You realized quietly as Matt seemed to realize the same thing.

He grabbed your hand and took off, dragging you behind him and leaving Brett on the fire escape. As you two were running, you were quickly trying to remember any names that stuck out. Anyone that you could track or could try to get to first. But the faces, the names, everyone blurred together.

Until one face stuck out. One familiar face.

Karen.

Matt seemed to have the same thought because you two were easily moving in the same direction. He broke down the plywood that had been put up over her busted windows and found the place empty, and her phone on the floor.

You couldn’t track her without it.

You let out a short string of curses as something caught Matt’s attention on the wall. Turning, you saw the long strokes of a sword. You were quick to check the floors and other walls for any blood splatters, bloody prints, or rogue drops but you saw nothing. You put a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get to the roof.” You said gently. “I have a terrible idea.”

“Yeah?” He said tightly but followed you nonetheless. “What’s that?”

“Y’know how I can read people’s emotions? Usually I block it out so it doesn’t overwhelm me but I’m gonna open up to everyone until I find her.”

“Are you sure that’s smart?” He tried, genuine concern lacing his words.

“Should be fine.”

“Ex.”

“Matt.”

“That’s not fair.” He gave a lazy smile. “I don’t know your name.”

“You will soon.” You nodded, speaking before your mind really processed what you were saying. “When this is all over.”

You knelt on one ledge while Matt on the other one. You took a deep breath and opened yourself to everyone. You were hit with a wave of… well, everything. Opening yourself to that many emotions at once meant you would absorb everything without a filter, but it also meant there was more for you to tap into later.

Anger. Fear. Regret. Happiness. Loss. Lust. Pride. Envy.

You clenched your jaw and tried to focus. You thought of your memories with Karen. You remembered her reaction when you first told her the truth, how she worried about you both before and after she found out, the way the walls she tried to put between you two crumbled. The comfort you felt when she finally accepted things the way they were. You focused on your friendship.

Vaguely, you heard Elektra talking to Matt in the background but you were too close to tune in. You had found a small cluster of fear and panic, interlaced with calm arrogance. You willed your powers to work harder, to find Karen specifically because if she wasn’t there then you weren’t going.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw the faintest glowing ball in front of you. It called to you, asking you to follow it. It was a strange manifestation, but you had seen stranger from your abilities. You cocked your head in silent question and you could almost hear Karen’s voice in your head.

Please. Please get here in time. I don’t wanna die.

You glanced behind you and found your friends huddled together. Matt was listening for something, and given his struggle less than a minute ago, you didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, you discreetly hopped off the ledge and climbed down the building on your own.

You weren’t surprised when the ball of light led you to an area of town not that different from where you had killed Nobu. Or, where you thought you did, rather. You wouldn’t make that mistake again, you decided. He wouldn’t get back up if you got the chance.

Your new problem became the archers on the roof. You knelt at the ledge and tapped your mask to figure out what you were walking into.

“Nice of you to join me.” You commented as you scanned the building and you heard the familiar sets of footsteps join you on the roof.

“If you had told me you had something, we would’ve gotten here together.” Matt scolded.

“You two were sharing such a tender moment, I didn’t want to interrupt…”

“Are you.. jealous?” He chuckled .

“Anyways.” You stood and he nudged you playfully with his shoulder. “About twenty hostages. Two cops dead already and archers on the roof.”

“Nobu’s men?” Elektra asked.

“Crawling the building like cockroaches.”

“How many?”

“Probably an army.”

“Can you isolate Nobu?” She asked Matt.

“No.” He answered simply.

“We can’t move until we know he’s here.”

“Then you can stay here and play guard dog.” You sighed and stood. “I’m going in there because my friend is in there.”

“I didn’t come here for them. I came to take down Nobu and you said you’d help.”

“We will, Elektra, but right now, the people in that building-“ Matt tried.

“Were used to draw us out.” She cut in. “Saving them won’t help us.”

“I can handle it on my own.” You said easily, attaching your wire to your belt.

“Ex.” Matt warned.

“I have the most experience getting in and out of places I’m not supposed to be. You two worry about finding Nobu.”

“You go in alone, you’re as good as dead.” Elektra warned.

“По крайней мере, я могу умереть, зная, что сделал что-то хорошее.” You smiled sadly and turned to Matt. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” (At least I can die knowing I did something good.)

You fell backwards and slid down the side of the building. You landed lightly on your feet and were quick to disconnect from your wire. You flicked it hard so it would unwrap and retract. You let the little glow guide you to the right floor so you climbed the fire escape on the neighboring building. You shot your wire at the window frames and pulled your gun in one hand before swinging feet first through the windows.

You would’ve liked to have done it Matt’s way, but there were too many people at risk. You had to be quick and efficient. Meaning one shot, one kill.

You rolled through your landing and were met with an outcry of screams, though it was clear they weren’t all meant for you. You finished in a kneel and were quick to fire headshots, clearing four Hand ninjas easily and quietly. Soon after, Matt crashed through the other windows and took out the remaining two. You used the time to disconnect your wire and holster your gun.

“Are you okay?” You hurried to kneel in front of Karen while Matt directed everyone else out.

“How did you find us?” She asked quickly, her fear and panic still skyrocketing.

“Cause you were terrified.” You admitted. “I told you I’d look out for you, didn’t I?”

You reached for a discarded knife and cut through the zip ties around her hand as Matt came to her side. You moved and helped the man beside her get to his feet, but he limped heavily so you had to help him to the hall where another member of the group took over.

“When you get out, keep your heads down, okay?” You warned. “There’s men on the roof and I don’t know if I can get their attention first.”

There was a chorus of thanks and praise before the group hurried away. Karen was last to leave, stopping to tell you about the gunshot wound on Matt’s chest. Before you could get to him and check, you saw he was preoccupied fighting four ninjas. You picked up one of the discarded blades and hurried to his side.

You swiped the blade across the backs of two of the Hand that were fighting Matt. They turned on you quickly and you taunted the closer. One of them swiped their blade at you from the side but you avoided it with a fancy aerial move. As you landed, you had to throw the blade up quickly to block another attack.

You kicked one of them away and fired a quick red shot from your Bite. You gripped the blade tightly and threw the other Hand into a spin. You used the gap to pick up your own momentum and pierce his spine with the blade. You pushed his body over and hurried to Matt’s side. There was one more ninja that Matt wasn’t focused on so you moved in.

You ran at him and did a quick aerial to get your ankles around his neck. You continued your momentum to throw him to the side and out the window. When you unlocked your ankles, you reached for the remaining window frame and ended up with a piece of glass slicing through your hand. You cried out loudly as you tried to climb back up but Matt ended up grabbing your forearms and pulling you up.

His fingers traced the gash on either side of your hand and frowned. He pulled your glove with one hand and reached for the side pouch of your belt with the other. When his fingers slipped into the pocket, he gave a slight tug to pull you against him and you couldn’t stop the gasp as your bodies hit and he grinned. You furrowed your brows but didn’t stop him as he pulled a couple gauze pads and the tape. You smiled slightly to see he remembered as he brought your other hand up to hold the gauze in place as he taped it down. He handed you back the tape and glove with a slight smirk.

“Better than a bullet hole.” You joked as you put the tape away and your glove on.

“Barely a hole, okay?” He countered with a small chuckle.

“I thought you were bulletproof.” You teased.

“First time for everything I guess.”

You saw two more Hand members coming in from over Matt’s shoulder but before you could react, you saw the tip of Elektra’s weapons piercing through their bodies.

“Glad you joined us.” You smiled.

“I got bored.” She shrugged.

You chuckled slightly and pulled your staffs, interlocking them together as four more Hand members burst in. You flicked the dial for the long blade and moved in. You attacked with the single staff hard from the right side, slicing a deep gash across one of their stomachs. You turned and used the blunt end to sweep the legs before spinning the weapon over your hand and driving the blade down into their chest.

While Matt jammed the butt end of his club into one of their noses, two hands shot through the wall to grab Elektra. You quickly followed after her and slid on your knees, spinning yourself and disconnecting your weapon. You put the blade away and swung your staffs at his head after Matt kicked him towards you. Elektra finished the other and then the room was empty save for you three. Elektra winced and peaked at the back of her arm, your attention moving to it as well.

You summoned the heat of anger to your fingers and offered them to Elektra. She nodded quickly and you pressed the fingers along the length of her cut and she hissed as you burned the wound shut. Matt pulled you two up the stairs as you finished and you wiped the blood on your pants.

Matt barricaded the door after you all went in. You pulled him back and called on that anger again. Only instead of directing it to your fingers, you pictured it as pure heat. You held your hands to the slot where the bar fit and pushed the heat outward, watching the metals meld together.

“I’m not gonna lie to you… There’s a lot more coming.” Matt said simply.

“One thing’s for sure… We’re gonna die.” Elektra answered.

“I say we take a few more of them out with us then.” You shrugged.

“You wanna end it here or on the roof?” Matt asked.

“I’ve always liked the fresh air.” Elektra replied, earning a small chuckle from Matt.

You three climbed the rest of the stairs and you tapped your mask, seeing through the walls to the heat signatures outside.

“What’s out there?” She asked.

“Oh, Jesus.” Matt sighed.

“Remember that army I mentioned?” You answered.

“Packed with katanas and longbows… More from below with the same weapons.” Matt explained and you let out a long sigh.

Elektra dropped to the floor by the door so you knelt beside her. You offered a comforting hand on her arm and she covered it with her own.

“Even if we survive, the three of us may not see each other again.” She said quietly.

“What if… What if, from now on, if we make it…” Matt tried, kneeling in front of Elektra and removing his helmet. “Wherever you run, I run with you.”

“You’d leave?” You asked softly. Though you had done the same to him so long ago, you hated the idea of being in New York without him.

“This… This Is a part of me that I need.” He continued when Elektra didn’t say anything. “And you’re the only one who gets it.”

“The only one…” You repeated quietly.

The pain in your chest was hot, begging for acknowledgement but it was your own doing. By not telling Matt sooner, he didn’t know that you were the one by his side. You were the one who had saved his life, risked your own for him so many times. He didn’t know you were the one who fought beside him.

He didn’t know that you got it, too.

“I’m free with you, like with no one else.” He said firmly.

“You hide from yourself…” She said gently. “You don’t let anyone in.”

“I let you in.”

“And what about Y/N?” She spoke softly, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You let her in, too. Matthew, you love her. And you’d leave her?”

“She left once because she was running from her past.. I think she’d understand.” He reasoned, but he couldn’t hide the pain when he thought of leaving you. “Maybe not at first, but she would.”

“But you love New York..”

“Yeah.. I’d give my life for it but there’s one thing that makes me feel more alive… What do you say?”

You began wondering how long you could stay in New York if Matt left with Elektra. You’d have Foggy and Karen, but would that be enough? Matt, realistically, was the one thing that kept you from going back to London after your Bar exam. With the firm gone and the relationship you stayed for now fallen apart, what was left for you?

You decided then that if Matt left, so would you. You’d tell Foggy and Matt the truth, apologize for hurting them in any way, and be out of their lives.

At least you wouldn’t be able to hurt them anymore.

Elektra pulled you up with her, in turn pulling you from your spiral of thoughts. You three went out onto the roof and found the Hand’s army standing calmly across from you. You could vaguely feel a familiar presence not too far away, one that was calm and charming but also angry. You glanced around as you tried to pinpoint it but saw nothing in the darkness.

Rather, you saw Nobu. He made some short speech about destiny before attacking your trio. He threw his weapon at you first and it sliced across your arm. You cried out but wrapped the chain around your hand, gripping it tightly and pulling him closer.

Once he was close enough, you twisted your arm around his neck and stepped behind him. Your knee was jammed against his back as you steered into hit after hit from Matt and Elektra. Once the rest of the army realized Nobu was losing, they jumped in.

Nobu reached behind him and caught you by your shirt, dropping his shoulder to flip you over. He pinned the hand you wrapped with the chain under his foot and yanked the chain across your throat. You coughed as you felt the metal pressing on your windpipe. You used your free hand to slip under your back and reach for one of your knives.

Reaching up, you sliced through his calf. You planted one foot firmly against the floor and used the other to kick up at his head. When he fell off of you, you were quick to roll to your stomach. Matt came in quick from the side and slammed his knee into Nobu’s head. You were quick to unwrap your hand and grip your knife firmly, launching it into Nobu’s back and giving yourself room to get to Elektra.

You hurried to your friend and pulled another blade, reaching over a Hand member’s shoulder to slit his throat. You and Elektra kept your backs to one another, fighting and protecting each other. Squelching sounds of punctures and the sound of metal hitting metal echoed across the slowly emptying rooftop as the bodies began to pile up around you and Elektra.

Soon, it felt like it was just you three and Nobu.

The three of you alternated your attacks, one stepping in when another was knocked down. But none of you stayed down for long. The variations in your fighting styles kept Nobu on a constant defense, only getting temporary upper hands on any of you. Until…

He dislocated Elektra’s arm and she hadn’t gotten up yet. He kicked Matt so hard his helmet flew off. That only left you.

“There’s still room for you here, Exodus. Maybe we are your destiny, as well.” Nobu offered through heavy, tired breaths.

“I choose my own destiny.” You growled and charged back into the fight.

You flicked your knife towards his chest but he avoided it easily, just as you hoped he would. You ran towards him and hooked your foot behind his knee, reaching across his chest to grab his shirtfront. You dropped and pushed yourself backwards to flip you both and put Nobu on his face. You spun to kneel on his back and lifted your arm to wake your Bite. As the device glowed red, an arrow came and sliced your forearm.

You cried out and fell to the side, giving Nobu a chance to climb on top of you. He hoisted you up by your shirt and landed sharp jabs against your face, causing your head to bounce off the concrete beneath you. You grabbed the wrist holding you up with one hand and slammed your opposing arm against his, crying at the pain but hearing the deep snap of his bone. You curled your legs up and kicked out at his chest, sending him flying away and giving you a chance to get up.

You moved to Elektra’s side since she was closer and helped her up. You pulled her to her feet and turned to see Nobu grabbing Matt. Panic froze you momentarily before you felt Elektra grab you. Together, you ran to Matt.

You drew your staff and stuck it out in front of Matt, causing Nobu’s weapon to clatter against it. He switched grips and slammed his elbow into your nose which made you stagger back. When he turned to slam the weapon into your stomach, Elektra stepped in front and took the hit. Your mouth fell open but no sound came out as you felt everything drain from your body. The tears welled up quickly so you yanked your mask down.

She kicked Nobu away before falling to her knees. You hurried to catch her when she dropped backwards and Matt was at her other side and his panic rivaled your own.

“No. No, no!” You cried and shook your head violently. Matt pressed his hands over her stomach in an effort to stop the bleeding. “Don’t do this, El. Don’t die on me!”

“They have nothing now.” She said weakly. “I took it all away.”

Blue and red clouded your vision, mixing swirls of bright colors that remained their own. Your fingers burned but the rest of your body felt ice cold.

“I know now… what it feels… to be good.” She managed through broken gasps and tears.

“Please.” You whispered. “El, please!”

“Look after him…. He.. He needs… you.”

You shook your head again, as if you could deny the situation and it would change. Your shoulders shook with your quiet sobs as your eyes closed, holding your friend close for as long as you could.

“Does it always hurt this much?” She asked Matt and your heart broke even further.

“Yeah.” He sniffled. “It always hurts this much.”

And then she was gone. You felt her go limp in your lap and you gently crawled out, leaving her in Matt’s embrace. You collapsed over your knees, one hand clutching your stomach and the other was a tight fist against the ground. You took in a shaky breath and screamed, letting out a broken sound of pain as you slammed your fist to the floor.

You felt two hands on your side that were pulling you up. You let them, looking up to see Matt hauling you to your feet. You ran your sleeve across your eyes, smearing the tears across your blood splattered face. You ground your teeth and took one last glance over your shoulder at Elektra.

She seemed at peace, finally.

Looking back at the few Hand soldiers that were left, your vision had grown bright red. There were blue swirls at the edges but the focus was the manic haze, the sadistic bloodlust. You pulled your gun and sniffled, weighing the bullets you had left.

Eleven rounds. Four Hand members.

You looked over at Matt, feeling his anger at the same level as yours. But you felt something else too, something from behind you. Someone familiar, but you didn’t care to figure it out.

Matt moved in first, beating the two Hand soldiers that came in first. Once he pushed them aside, you stepped in and put a bullet in their skull. You raised your gun to fire on a third one but another bullet beat you to it. You quickly spun on your heel with your gun ready and saw Frank on the rooftop behind you.

You felt the slightest wave of relief, dulling the red of your vision as your arms dropped. Your hand covered your mouth as you smiled slightly, a fresh wave of tears coming. You saw him offer you a quick salute before firing on the Hand behind you. You returned the gesture before hurrying across the rooftop to Matt’s side, though he was already engaged with Nobu. Matt’s anger easily fueled him into getting the upper hand, but you were determined to have the final shot. As Matt threw Nobu off the roof, you followed.

You stepped over the ledge and flicked your wire at the railing. As you slid down the building, you drug your heels against the side to slow your descent. You aimed your gun and once he hit the ground, you pulled the trigger, watching the bullet pierce through his skull and bounce his head off the concrete. You hung there for a second, waiting to ensure he wouldn’t get up, but the growing puddle of blood that he laid in was enough of an answer for you.

You were climbing back up to the roof when part of Matt’s new club came towards you. You took a hold of it and he helped pull you up. He tapped your arm and pointed to the roof behind you where Frank was and he gave you the slightest smile, as if he knew you’d be happy to see Frank.

You pointed to yourself before your fingers made the shape of a phone and then you pointed to Frank, hoping he’d get the message that you would call him later. He nodded before disappearing.

You blew out a sigh to calm yourself and settle your deep anger. There was satisfaction in knowing Nobu was dead and that you had pulled the trigger. Not even for yourself, but for Elektra.

For your friend who gave her life for yours. For your friend who annoyed the hell out of you and pushed every button she could, who was arrogant beyond belief and stole the man you loved right out from under you. Your friend who was a liar, but also smart. Powerful. Beautiful. Vengeful and angry, but also just wanting to be loved for who she truly was.

You wished you could tell her that she was. That despite it all, you did love her.

Matt took your hand and walked with you back to Elektra, both of you falling to your knees beside her.

“I’m sorry…” You said quietly, more to Elektra than Matt. “I’m so sorry.”

Matt put a hand on your shoulder and you turned instantly, falling against his chest. His arms came around you quickly and held you tightly. You kept muttering the apology as a new wave of sobs ran through you and he hushed you gently, saying it was okay. You held him with all the strength you had left, terrified that he would slip through your fingers too.

He leaned his chin on the top of your head, seemingly trying to contain his own grief. You took a deep breath and pulled away, putting your hands on either side of his face. He tried to give you a smile but it broke instantly.

This time, he fell into you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you put one hand behind his neck and the other over his shoulders. You said nothing, other than a gentle reassurance that you were there.

You two stayed that way for a while, consoling each other despite your own grief. You only moved when Matt heard the cops getting close. Hesitantly, you followed him off the roof.

Sleep didn’t find you that night. You sat on the floor of your shower, letting the stream wash away the blood, sweat, and tears of that night. But nothing could help your pain. You didn’t even care to try and heal yourself, other than your hand.

At least you didn’t have to grieve for Frank anymore… Just Elektra.

A few days later, you still hadn’t slept much but you were beside Matt and Stick at Elektra’s grave. You had your arm linked with his and you leaned into him slightly, almost using him to keep you standing.

“I wanted to say a few words but… I don’t have any.” Matt said after a while of standing quietly.

“Can I?” You spoke up, though your voice sounded hoarse. You had sounded that way since that night, having cried so much and screamed so loud your throat was rubbed raw.

“Yeah..”

“Elektra was a lot of things, some good and some bad… But ultimately, she was my friend. She saw and did things that no one should have had to as young as she was, but maybe it’s because of that that we were the friends we were… She was complicated but loyal, willing to give her life for-“ You sniffled and took a deep breath. Matt turned to you and placed a small kiss to the top of your head, an old but not unusual gesture between you two. “Elektra was so loved… I loved her, and I’ll miss her.”

“God rest her soul.” Stick added solemnly. Despite their last spat, he still loved her as his own. “Was it worth it?”

“What?” Matt asked.

“Loving her.”

He took a deep breath as he thought, but decided not to answer. But standing beside him, you knew. It was worth it to him.

“One time in college, I brought her roses.” He said instead and you gave a small smile.

“She hated roses.” You chuckled weakly. “It was orchids, right?”

“Yeah.. She likes orchids… And yeah, it was worth it.”

“Matt, you are the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.” Stick praised before leaning around to you. “And little lady, you are a close second.”

“I don’t feel very tough.” You admitted.

“What you see in yourself and what you are don’t always overlap.” He nodded. “Let’s go home.”

The car dropped you off at your apartment first. Matt offered to stay with you but you told him you’d rather be alone. Hesitantly, he let you.

When you got to your apartment, you headed for your bedroom and found your suit peaking out of the closet. The memory of that night flashed in your mind when you caught a glimpse of the blood stained on the front. It could’ve been the Hand or it could’ve been Elektra’s. You hurried over and slammed the case shut.

You had no plans of returning to that life anytime soon. You doubted Matt did either. And if you were going to take up Dex on the FBI offer, you couldn’t be a vigilante and a federal agent. It was too risky. You had to choose. Y/N or Exodus.

The choice was easy.

You shut the closet and pulled your phone, sitting on the floor and leaning against your bed. You weren’t sure if he had changed numbers but you had to try. You had to find out why.

“Hey.. I’m sorry about your friend.” He said gently, honestly.

“Thanks… How are you?” You answered, not sure how to bring up the main reason you called.

“Same shit, different day. Gotta finish what I started and see this through… For my family..”

“What’s the plan?”

“Nah, not this time, Princess.”

“You don’t need to coddle me, Frank.” You tried.

“I’m not.”

“Then why won’t you tell me? I thought you trusted me more than that.”

“Y/N..” He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, alright? It’s not. It’s that I know you’re only using this as an excuse so you don’t have to deal with your pain. You wanna use any sort of fight you can to ignore what’s really going on. You’re so used to fightin’ that you can’t deal with peace.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

You wondered if Frank had always been able to read people so easily, or if you were just especially transparent. But what you really noticed, was that he wasn’t condescending about it. He never made you feel bad or inferior because of your struggles or your shortcomings. Frank was a real friend, even if your friendship was still new.

“… Why did you do it? Fake your death for a while with the boat explosion.” You asked instead.

“Cause Frank Castle is dead.” He insisted.

“So you’re nothing but the Punisher now?”

“You ever really think I was anything more?”

“I did… I really did… The Punisher isn’t the one who convinced me that it was my choice who I was. The Punisher isn’t the one who made sure Karen was safe. The Punisher isn’t the one who wanted to save me first on that boat. The Punisher isn’t all you are.”

He chuckled slightly.

“Gotta admit, Imma miss that, Princess. Your little optimism.” He said and you could hear the small smile on his voice. “Red really got to you, didn’t he?”

“I’m serious, Frank.”

“I know… But I can’t keep dragging you into this, alright? I just.. I’m sorry but I can’t. Not this time.”

“You don’t plan on dying for real this time. Do you?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

You sighed loudly.

“I can’t convince you to let me tag along, can I?” You tried.

He chuckled slightly.

“Not this time.”

“Alright… Just try not to then.” You said reluctantly. “I can’t lose another friend right now, okay? I can’t… Call me if you need anything.”

“Alright.. See you ‘round, Y/N.”

“Bye, Frank.”

You had gotten more sleep that night than nights before, and maybe that was due to the closure from Frank. You didn’t necessarily like that he was running off to a seemingly never ending battle by himself, but if anyone could handle it, it was him. Maybe it was also due to the fact that Elektra was put to rest. You said what had been bouncing in your head and felt a sense of closure in that regard, too.

The only thing left was telling Matt and Foggy.

Matt called you the next day and asked if you could meet him at the office, just for a minute he insisted. You reached into your closet and pulled the Red Room emblem out of the corner you had shoved it into. It took one of your knives and a lot of pulling during your most recent redesigning, but you finally got the enamel logo off. Part of you questioned if he would recognize it, given that the red was the point but it was better than throwing your mask at him. But just to be sure, you shoved one of your Bites into your bag

You got ready quickly, considering the cold weather, and hustled down to the office. You were shaking the loose snowflakes from your hair as you walked in, finding Karen already waiting. The room was stale and cold, dimly lit by a couple lamps. Any life from Nelson and Murdock had faded away just as the warmer temperatures had. The situation suddenly became very real as your once warm and welcoming office now felt like another world.

“Hey.” She breathed.

“Hey.” You smiled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Not really but…” You shrugged. “Matt called you?”

“Yeah, said he wanted to talk about something.”

“I’m a little surprised you came, given everything with him last time I saw you guys talk.”

“Same could be said for you.” She gave you a small smile.

“You don’t know what I know.” You returned the small smile. “But that’s probably what this is for.”

“Should I be worried?”

“If how you reacted before is an indication, you’ll probably be pissed.” You nodded and sat on the edge of the desk as Matt walked in.

“Thanks for coming.” He said, pulling a brown bag from under his arm.

“What are we doing here, Matt?” She asked.

Your hand slid into your pocket and pulled out the small enamel design, twirling it between your fingers. You noticed Matt’s head tilt just slightly, likely the sound of the emblem against your pants as you pulled it out drawing his attention but he tried not to show it. He snapped back and focused on answering Karen.

“I, uh. I have something.” He explained as he stepped closer, reaching into the bag.

“No, I don’t want it.” She shook her head and moved to leave.

“Hang on.” You said gently, reaching to pull her back. “Just give him a chance.”

“It’s something I need you two to see.” He continued and you let out a deep breath.

Karen glanced over at you and you nodded. Her brows furrowed but she relaxed and turned to Matt again. You kept your eyes down as you heard him pulling whatever it was out of the bag.

The tension rose drastically and you knew it was what you thought it would be. Karen looked at you again in shock but when you lifted your eyes to meet hers, all you could offer was a silent nod of confirmation. You turned to the window then, rather than face Matt.

You knew it was Matt, had known for a little while. You had been practically taunting him and begging him to call you out for being Exodus ever since, but the idea of confessions made your heart squeeze. The emblem in your hand felt sharp now, like holding onto it - along with your secret - was going to physically pain you until you let go. Until you told the people who deserved to know.

“I’m Daredevil.” Matt admitted.

Silence passed over the group again so you decided to move. You stood, leaving the logo on the desk, and moved to stand in front of Matt. Gently, you took the helmet from his hands and you saw him swallow hard when your fingers brushed his. In any other circumstance, it would’ve made you smile.

You ran your fingers over the hard material, tracing the ghost of a line you remembered seeing after Frank shot him. You looked back up to him and found how terrified he was. He was surrounded by a yellow haze, but there was also pink mixed in. He was scared because of how he cared for you two.

You took a step back to stand beside Karen. She put a hand on your arm in comfort and when you looked to her, she offered a small smile. You could tell she wanted to look down, to acknowledge the helmet in your hands but she refused. Instead, you reached over and put it in hers.

She took it, only for a second, before shoving it back into your hands and practically running out the door. You watched her go as the door slammed behind her, making a face of surprise to yourself. Given how she chewed your head off after you told her, it went far better than you expected.

You took a step forward again to put your hand on his cheek and found he leaned into your touch.

“Say something… Please.” He mumbled.

“Matt…” You said finally and you saw some of the tension leave his face as you said his name. “There’s… There’s something you should know, too.”

His brows furrowed as you pulled your hand away and stepped over to the desk and reached for the small piece of enamel, placing the helmet on the desk in its place. You took one more deep breath and went back to Matt, taking one of his hands and pressing the logo against it.

His brows furrowed while holding the emblem in one hand, his fingers tracing it over and over. Every time his digits followed the shape, you felt the anxious knot in your stomach tighten.

Everything you had been avoiding since you got back to Hell’s Kitchen, revealing yourself to Matt and showing the blood on your hands, it was all happening right before your eyes. The uncertainty made you feel like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, teetering backwards and reaching for safety. Matt was the only one who could pull you back, but the question of if he would was yet to be answered.

“This is…” He trailed off, drawing your focus back to him. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s the trademark for the Red Room… It was part of every Black Widow uniform…” You explained carefully. “It was at the collar of my suit for a while until I changed the top… Then it was hidden and now it’s off.”

“The Red Room… Y/N, what..?”

Did he really not know?

“I… I’m Exodus, and I’m sorry. For everything. For- For the times I’ve hurt you. The times I tried to kill you… Matt, I swear, if I knew sooner that it was you...”

“Oh my god..” He said quietly, nearly a whisper. “No, there’s… Really?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” You shrugged, trying to fake calm though your heart was racing. You figured Matt could hear it, one of the few times you let your body give away your thoughts. You turned and moved to your bag, pulling your Bite before coming back. “And if you want to go our separate ways, I understand.”

“No, Y/N.” He stepped closer and reached for your hand. Though instead of letting him take it, you put your weapon in his hand which made him pause, only for a second. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“What about what I’ve done? Matt, your whole stance as Daredevil is to not kill people and I’ve killed too many to count.”

“I don’t care.” He shook his head and stepped to put the emblem and the weapon on the desk. He came back to stand in front of you, hands finding your face. “I don’t. Because it’s you, Y/N… It's you.”

“I told you that I couldn’t be the one to corrupt you.” You said softly, feeling him trace the outline of certain scars as if to convince himself it was true. “I told you that I shouldn’t be the one that you make an exception for.”

“It’s not an exception… I know what you’ve done, sweetheart. But I also know why… And I know you.”

“Matt..”

“I love you, Y/N.” He admitted suddenly, making you take a step back and the back of your legs hit the lip of the desk. “I know who you are and I know what you’ve done but you are still you. You still feel the same, Y/N. You’re the same girl I met in college and the same girl that I.. that I love.”

“You don’t mean that.” You tried, though every ounce of your body was screaming for his God to let it be true. “You don’t.. You can’t. I- I- I’ve lied to you and I’ve screamed at you and I’ve hurt you! I stabbed you, right here-“ You took a step forward and placed your hand on his side where you remember throwing your knife. “-maybe a week ago!”

“I know.” He nodded with a small smile that only added to your bewilderment. “You’ve also saved my life and cleaned me up and been by my side.”

“This is insane..” You mumbled, more to yourself than Matt. “This is- This is crazy! You can’t love me! As much as I want you to, you can’t!“

“You want me to?” He repeated smugly. “Still? Even though I put on that suit and that mask, go out into that city every night, and throw punches in an alley?”

“Yes, because you’re the good guy!” You shouted and began pacing the room, hands pushed into your hair. “You’ve always been the good guy and I’ve been the bad guy. You can’t love the bad guy! I don’t- It doesn’t make sense! Daredevil hated Exodus.”

He reached out for your hand and pulled you to stop. You landed flat against his chest and you let out a small groan due to your still tender ribcage.

He snorted a small laugh. “Sorry.”

“I’ve had worse.” You shrugged and he broke into a grin, earning one from you now that your mind was snapped from its spiral. “Matt, you hated her.”

“I never hated her.” He shook his head, speaking softly as he dropped his forehead against yours. “I didn’t always agree with her but I would pick her by my side over anyone.”

“You already knew, didn’t you?“ Your eyes closed and you sighed to yourself.

“I had a feeling…”

“How long?”

“Since you yelled at me in Russian in the courthouse bathroom, for sure.”

“To be fair, you slammed the door in my face.” You reasoned, leaning back slightly to see him as he grinned again.

“What did you even say?”

“That I’d break both your arms.”

“Ouch.” He frowned.

“Don’t slam doors on people then.” You shrugged, holding your composure for a second before laughing. “I’m serious, Matt. How long?”

“I had a thought since we went to that art gallery and met Vanessa for the first time. I knew there was something bigger but I didn’t think it was this. This became a thought a little before we met Grotto.”

“I always knew you were doing something you weren’t supposed to.” You replied. “But I didn’t think this - or maybe I just didn’t wanna believe it - until that gala… You moved so much like him, I couldn’t ignore it. And..”

“And?” His brows furrowed. “C’mon, Y/N/N. Say it. It’s just you and me…”

“When you kissed me. It was the same. Same feeling, same movements, same taste.”

He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again and pursing his lips slightly.

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” You tried calmly as you moved and sat on the desk. “How do we both have these alter egos that worked together but couldn’t stand each other? And then we turn around and work together but also can’t stand each other?”

You picked his helmet up and turned it in your hands as he came and stood in front of you. You leaned your head back to look at him while he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the desk beside you.

“What do you wanna do from here, Y/N/N?” He asked, gently taking the helmet from your hands and putting it on top of his jacket. He flattened his palms on either side of your legs and leaned down slightly, taking a step back so he was more level with you. “Tell me to go and I will.”

“And if I want you to stay?”

His mouth lifted into a small smile. “Tell me and I will.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yeah.”

“It kinda looks like you wanna be with me right now because I’m Exodus.” You chuckled slightly, trying to joke and break the tension in the air.

There was a heavy lull as his brain mulled over your words before he spoke carefully.

“I started caring about her after Nobu.. That first night she - you - saw me, you were so relieved… You hugged me so tight.”

“I thought you were dead.” You admitted. “I thought… I thought I was too late and I couldn’t save you, that I made that deal for nothing.”

“That was when I realized that you really did care…”

“That was around the time you told me that I had my own light.. Do you still believe that?”

“Y/N, I’ve always believed that, whether you were in that suit or not. You’ve got one of the brightest lights I know.”

“Y’know, early on, I had these really confusing feelings for Daredevil. It felt like he saw me, with the blood on my hands and knees and all. He still wanted me around and I liked that. I felt safe with him. But he kept wanting to change me. It was like he just couldn’t accept who I was. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for him.”

“Y/N, I never-“

“Hang on.. Just, let me finish, okay? I need…” You paused to take a deep, steadying breath and put a hand on his arm. “I need to finally say this.”

He nodded.

“And then Fisk happened and he got in my way. I remember thinking ‘This is it. I’m done with him. I see him again, he’s dead’. Now, maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t kill Fisk when I had the chance. I don’t know. But I do know that I just couldn’t bring myself to try and kill him. I still wanted him around but I couldn’t let myself want him…”

You turned and picked up your gauntlet.

“And then Frank came along and made things more complicated. Frank didn’t need me to change to be by his side. He didn’t challenge my morality, he just… Handed me a gun and considered me a friend.”

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe Frank wasn’t all that bad.” He offered and you smiled.

“He’s really not. Frank actually helped me find balance… He told me that I can’t let everyone else tell me who to be. But Daredevil isn’t bad either if you get to know him.” You teased and he grinned. “Matty, I love you too. But if this is something we want to try, I need to ask you a couple things.”

“I’m all yours.” He said softly, dropping to his knees and folding his arms over your lap to rest his chin on.

“Really?” Your brows raised playfully.

“Ears.” He corrected with a nervous smile. “I’m all ears.”

“If we keep doing the Daredevil/Exodus thing, do I have to play by your rules? No killing?”

“I would prefer.” He said carefully. “But I won’t fault you for it. Not anymore.”

“Why?”

“You know when to stop.” He answered simply, as if it should’ve been obvious. “You know when to pull your punches and when not to. I shouldn’t have been trying to change you this whole time. I should’ve been trying to just work with you, help you find some sort of… balance.”

“Do you really want to do this? Because I know you were in a whole ‘no friends means no distractions means I can focus’ phase.”

“No, I don’t wanna do anything without you by my side.”

“Last one… And it’s a hard one. Would you still be here, on your knees in front of me and telling me you love me, if Elektra was alive?”

He was quiet for a minute as he thought. You were both glad that he didn’t answer immediately and a bit hurt.

“I don’t know. I told you it was complicated with her..”

“Matt, I’ve been second to Elektra for you the entire time she’s been involved. I won't be the one you settle for because you lost her.”

“This isn’t about Elektra.” He shook his head gently. “You and I.. It always ends up being you and I, doesn’t it?”

You wanted to argue that but you realized he was right. Despite your leaving, you made your way back to Hell’s Kitchen, where you stayed for him. You fell in love with Marc and Steven, but you still loved him. Your first love, who showed you kindness and generosity when you were strangers. Who showed you that friendships were more than sparring matches and killing together.

You unfolded his arms gently and slid off the desk to sit beside him on the floor. He said nothing as you moved down and lifted his hand. You looked at the angry red blotches across his knuckles, thinking of your own broken skin and wrapped hands.

Neither of those hands were truly innocent in the eyes of the law. The vigilantes of the Kitchen operated on a spectrum, you decided. Elektra was one farthest end, shoot first and ask questions later. Frank - and you would soon realize yourself - was closer to the middle but not quite neutral, get your answers but still shoot. Matt was supposed to be the other end, never pull the trigger but get answers anyway.

Pairing you and Matt was like mixing chocolate and vanilla ice cream. It would work, but the appearance would always lean towards the chocolate. The vigilante that believed in redemption was the vanilla and the vigilante that believed in consequences was the chocolate. At the end of the day, you both bloodied yourselves for the Kitchen but who was right depended on who you asked.

Corruption was easier than redemption and that scared you.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Matt asked after the silence began to loom over you two like a shadow. “About everything…”

“Would you have forgiven me?” You asked softly, not bothering to keep the sadness away. “Everything that I’ve done, pretty much since I got out of there, was me trying to undo what I had to do there. I was a kid going through it, being weaponized and lied to and manipulated. But I wasn’t clueless. I knew what he was doing to me, to all of us actually. He said he loved us like his own daughters… That we were a family…That he was the only one that would ever love us…”

“It was never your fault, Y/N. Someone who loves you… They wouldn’t do that to you.” Matt offered and you sniffled.

Speaking so openly about your past was enough to make you cry. Being raised without any tenderness, any real compassion or sympathy save for that brief time in Ohio with your ‘Aunt Melina’, you didn’t expect any from Matt. How could you?

But you still wanted it. You wanted so desperately to be loved, for the truth. For everything you were, both good and bad. You needed it so honestly that your hands shook and your heart felt like a stone in your chest, weighing you down and growing heavier every time it tried to pump blood through your veins.

As Exodus, you could speak of the cruelties you faced with venom in your voice. You didn’t have to feel anything towards Dreykov other than pure spite, pure rage. It was easy to hate him and be angry at the universe and blame some higher power for what happened to you. But as Y/N, as just a girl trying to build some sort of normal life for yourself, you couldn’t speak of it without feeling broken. Feeling used.

But you knew Matt wouldn’t see you that way. He never did, not even when Ex spoke about it.

“I tried to erase my past.” You continued, trying to keep her voice level but the slightest of a waver snuck through. “But now I don’t think I would want to change it… Exodus and I, we share the same body and the same face. But we’re not the same… Whatever you felt about Ex, you can’t just translate that to me.”

“I loved you long before Exodus existed.” He insisted but you scoffed lightly in response. “I’ve loved you since we met in college, I swear.”

“You have to understand why I can’t believe that..”

Your head dropped to stare at your lap and you found you were still holding on to his hand, and he hadn’t pulled away either.

“If that’s true, then why did you start dating Karen? Why did you tell Elektra you’d leave with her?”

“Because I didn’t know if you felt the same way…”

“Why didn’t you say anything to find out?”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“When have I ever tried to get in the way of your happiness?”

Matt paused and you wondered what he would say. You knew the accusations were a bit unfair. You had never tried to get in the way of Matt’s happiness when you weren’t a factor. And even when he was pushing you away, you hoped he would find happiness. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t selfishly want him to not be happier with someone else.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He finally answered and the sincerity made you lift your eyes. “I know nothing I can say can change anything that’s happened so far. I don’t expect you to forgive any of how I’ve treated you lately or that I’ve kept this hidden from you for so long… Just know that I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.. But it’s not like you were the only one with a secret.” You offered honestly. “Can I… Can I see the rest of it? The suit..”

“Yeah.” He breathed, something like relief filling his chest.

He pulled you with him as he stood before you both gathered your belongings. You put away your Bite and emblem and he tucked the mask back into the paper bag before reaching for your arm.

#ptyy mag #matt murdock #mcu daredevil #matt murdock x yn #mcu matt murdock #netflix daredevil #netflix matt murdock #daredevil x reader #ptyy doms #daredevil #daredevil angst #daredevil series #daredevil s2 #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock s2 #matt murdock series #daredevil fluff #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x yn #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #elektra natchios #elektra x reader #matt x reader #matt x you #matt x yn

[mikkokomori]

Yes. I was once friends with Toaster and Oku. While in their server I not only met a member of a popular omori organization who tried to defend the fact that their organization doxxed a minor (which has way too many doccuments to link) but Oku has done and said many proship-like things. Once having their profile as the coffin of andy and leyley (I think thats it??) and also expressing an unhealthy romantic and sometimes even sexual attraction for their character Arsenic, which is an Basil who is incredibly obsessive to the point of abuse over their Sunny. I tried to empathize with them but every attempt was in vain as eventually I started to receive more and more harassment from Oku in various forms for things ranging from opinions to misunderstandings and finally what caused me to leave Toaster's server; a threat of a one-week ban for "venting" by trying to relate to an actual vent Toaster had made.

I don't think everyone in that server is problematic, but Toaster, Oku, and Arby's Meat Mountain are in the loop for people who actually need help. I have seen the cycle since I joined the server and was wary not to get too attached to anyone there because of it. What I saw was as follows: - Zet being incredibly impulsive due to gaslighting, then me being harassed lightly for my lack of social skills/issues im still dealing with as I am in therapy, Zet nearly killing themselves because of the server's lack of validation (They wouldnt even help Zet redirect somewhere else if he was having an episode despite me saying it wouldnt get better if they didnt), me having to tell them to leave so I can see if theyd try to ban me next, my harassment got worse (Oku starting fights about opinions I had often, Arbys with the ORG, Getting overposted by everyone, ignored/ostracized in the minecraft server, trying to ban my account, etc. ), Low and behold as soon as I seemed to get insecure about myself I almost got hit with a ban before I inevitably chose to leave myself. However I had noticed the new server member who was being harassed was none other than my friend Light, leading me to believe its a cycle.

Toaster at the start did in fact try to gaslight me by using my previous experiences against me into believing Mikko was the real mastermind but as I stayed there I saw more and more questionable things from Toaster which I tried not to judge. Such being an sexual under-toned drawing of Stranger and Sunny. Stranger as my perception of the game, was still a child and a manifestation of Sunny's guilt over not being able to fight his own depression and escape headspace. The deepest of his subconscious if you will which has all information stored, thus why stranger is more literate than the rest of headspace.

The server's neglect of a person who became suicidal is something that happened to me before, and I remember being the victim of a server like that. Half of the server actually hated me for " ruining their fun " by trying to connect with them on a personal level or needing support, and the other too scared to help because they didn't know what to do. This is psychological abuse, and when asked something as simple as to spam " go to Sunflower's dms " if Zet was panicking in chat wasn't enough for them. They blatantly refused to help a suicidal person.

I have little social skills, but I do have a very high moral compass and always try to treat everyone as best as I can- so when the rest of the server stood down and refused to help Zet, I stepped in to try and help them too. However, soon the server started to double down on me, keeping me busy or harassing me to the point I couldnt help Zet. At that moment I knew I had to let Zet go temporarily and wait for the next stage in my observations as clearly they could tell we were still talking and wanted to separate us. I took the next few days of calm to prepare myself for the real issues. Then I tried to resume being my normal self and just as I suspected; I'm the next one on the chopping block. It has to take a lot for me to harass someone, typically I would rather avoid pointless fighting and just make a small post if it was so bad I couldnt do anything else about it; aka whats happening now.

However, due to the psa posts and how my blog wasn't explicitly just the AU- Oku had pressured me into thinking that I should discontinue my AU. I was visibly stressed and agitated because they used my disdain against how far cancel culture goes against me. Yes, I dont like it when innocent people are taken advantage of with cancel culture, but Im not about to let the ones causing those issues grow.

I will be adding all images I have below, see image description for context.

Other proof must be found in the server.... https://discord.com/invite/7pSdBbh4 TW: Vent art, Venting, extreme suicidal idealization/complex suicidal thoughts, ableism, Sexualization of Minors

I'm running out of space for this so I will have to show my dms with Oku and Toaster some other time.

Mnmn....

#i dont have anything to add #my apologies. but the more ss the better. #sunnflower-chronicles asks #sunny talks #miko talks