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#he’s dead? he died? she brought him back through her memories? or she’s left him (metaphorical death) and he’s haunting her??
aroanthy · 1 month
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i love how fraught and complicated discourse around various utena characters ‘dying’ is when anthy is literally stabbed to death eternally by a million swords imbued with human hatred. and then utena gets stabbed to death by them also. like. ‘death’ is incredibly interesting in rgu because most of the time it’s this ambiguous figurative thing that has interesting implications re: ohtori as a closed-off world one can escape. we are all trapped in our coffins. mamiya is the only named character with a grave. nemuro memorial hall functions as one all the same. ruka is implied to have died in the hospital— was he dead all along? who was the boy we saw for these two episodes? is this dead boy the same boy, or is this just another coincidence from the shadow girls, cutting like a knife? it’s heavily implied that akio and anthy murder kanae by poisoning her, adding to the previous implication that they were poisoning mr ohtori too, but there are no perceptible consequences of this. kanae’s absence is not felt. she’s fed an apple slice. what happens to the bodies? we know what happened to the 100 boys, but what about everyone else? and so on and so forth. ‘death’ is a tricky thing in utena, i think it’s constantly functioning on figurative and literal levels in very different ways for very different purposes. dios died. dios was dying. dios didn’t die. he grew up. etc etc
#what am i trying to say here?#idk! think about all of the pieces you have#dying is complicated in ohtori in countless different ways#and i find it boring to see so much ‘this character is dead and that’s it’ stuff#when death is used farrrrrrr more figuratively than some ppl give credit for#and i think the movie too does wonderful things with death#and what ‘dying’ really means#being disbelieved. being forgotten. being rejected. haunting despite this#much more interesting to think about wrt commentary on abusive relationships than it is#to think about what?? oh me when my brother died but plot twist he’s alive and can walk on this road all cool. like?????#akio doesn’t have the power to make himself revenant#he THINKS he does and he absolutely has power when he’s alive and he imbues that power with such meaning that it does live on after him#but ANTHY. anthy is the one struggling with herself and her feelings and the impact of trauma and abuse (that power!!) in aou#he’s dead? he died? she brought him back through her memories? or she’s left him (metaphorical death) and he’s haunting her??#all such interesting interpretations#i haven’t mentioned touga bc i don’t have the energy today. if dead and just illusion of others memories then why active. why awful#like in aou akio is only Obviously scummy when he’s alive. his illusory self is based upon anthy’s love for him#if anime!touga is nothing more than nanami/whoever’s memories of him before he died……. why does he actively choose to suck again and again#like nanami wouldn’t do that. unless it was meant to be a subconscious thing like ooo he’s dead all along but that’s not what her arc is#it’s not ‘he’s been dead all along’ literally or figuratively. it’s ‘he’s unsafe and i don’t want him’#sigh. once again i am asking people to think about nanami and touga’s dynamic through touga’s eyes#it’s so interesting to me how people forget to consider his motivations or feelings on ANYTHING#like sure his motivations and feelings are scummy but they’re interesting!!!!! they intrigue me!!!!#compel me even#anyway ignore how i said i didn’t have the energy for this and then typed it all out anyway#dais.txt
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semisolidmind · 7 months
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Ok I have a question and if I asked this before sorry my memory sometimes bad.
So you said peach's died on the journey with her husband's. How did she die? And did they get revenge for her. Also at this point you would think peach's is there soulmate but peach's not liking it.
And dose she have a Mark of how she died as a brith Mark?
And what was Macaqa and sun frist meating with peach's like?
I really love your work
(tw, slight mention of blood and gore)
went on a bit of a tangent :)
reader was killed during a demon ambush. everybody was busy fighting the demons, and while reader was hiding, one of the demons escaped the warlords' notice. she didn't even have time to scream. it killed her, and then took and ate her body.
macaque was the first to realize her absence, of course. reader wasn't able to make much noise as she died, so he just thought she was scared, but... imagine his horror when he can't hear her heartbeat. he quickly dissapears into a shadow, leaving the fight behind. he checks where reader was hidden, and finds only a small puddle of blood. his breathing quickens as he follows the blood a ways further into the woods. he can feel his rage and anguish growing.
there, in a clearing, a rogue wolf demon seems to have just finished its meal, it's tongue licking the excess gore from its teeth. shreds of reader's clothing lay scattered at its feet, along with her satchel and book.
macaque bears his teeth in an enraged snarl and roars at the stupid beast. struck by grief, he falls to his knees, pressing his hands to his face as tears gather in his eyes.
the sound of his anguish echoing against the trees was enough to summon his brother; wukong, covered in the gore of his slain enemies, appears at his side. the king takes quick stock of the situation, and comes to the same heart-shattering conclusion as macaque.
she's gone. she's gone and this wretched creature destroyed her.
reader is dead.
the rage he feels rivals the burning of the stars.
the two bring down the full fury of their combined might upon the wolf demon. the warlords drag out their dismantlement, tearing the stupid creature apart peice by peice. once the offending beast is little more than a visceral stain on the ground..
...the brothers hold one another, attempting to ground each other through the torrent of their pain. they've lost their one, their only.
their dear reader, their beloved peach....she's dead. all because they took their eyes off her for a second, all because they were made to come on this cursed journey. were they not charged with protecting that blasted monk, they could have prevented this. wukong and macaque come to the same conclusion; they will not soon forgive the ones who brought them here.
the monkey demons gather reader's things, holding them as gently as glass...it's all they have left of her. not even a body to bury back home on their mountain.
the other pilgrims need only see these items and the baleful, enraged, tear-stricken looks on their companions' faces to know what must have happened. wukong and macaque say nothing as the monk says a prayer for her.
the two leave for a while.
they don't come back for three months.
when they do return to the journey at the behest of the heavens, they are reserved. withdrawn. they keep to themselves, only intervening when the pilgrims are in danger they can't solve themselves.
———
the monkey king and the six-eared macaque complete the journey. they refuse their new titles; the rage that simmers in them is far too great for the roles they've earned.
the monkey warlords go home. they grieve, properly this time, alongside their subjects.
the next few hundred years are especially brutal for any enemies of flower fruit mountain and it's king. without his queen, he forgets what it means to be merciful.
———
many centuries later, wukong finds a little monkey demon boy, seemingly sprung from the same stone he did. wukong adopts him, names him xiaotian, and teaches him to become a ruthlessly efficient warrior.
the child grows up hearing the occasional story about the mountains' queen, a once-mortal woman who held his father's (and uncle's) heart in her hands. his caretakers can't bring themselves to speak about her often, but they speak softly and fondly when they do. he hears stories of her adventures on the mountain; how she made friends with her subjects, worked in the kitchens and orchards, and cared for the mountain's children.
both wukong and macaque tell xiaotian that reader would have loved him dearly.
the small shrine in the palace temple (a satchel, a heavy book with nothing written in it, a few scraps of bloodied cloth displayed next to daily offerings of peaches) and furniture in his father's room (the combs, hairpins, and perfume bottles untouched but lovingly dusted) don't tell him much about who "reader" was—but the stories from the people who knew her do.
he wishes he could've met her.
———
when the boy reaches a certain age, he asks to go stay in the mortal world. his father reluctantly agrees.
xiaotian goes to the city, battles the dragon girl mei, befriends her, and allows her to teach him how the city works. she takes him to a noodle shop belonging to one of her friends, a gruff but earnest pig demon named pigsy. there, he meets mei's other friends; a gentle blue giant named sandy (and his cat, mo), a studious yet freeloading human named tang—and a friendly human woman who works at the shop...
...who happens to be nicknamed reader.
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maidragoste · 9 months
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Sick
Aegon II Targaryen x Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)
Summary: Daeron is sick and neither you nor Aegon is taking it well.
This is part of the universe of the queen and her husbands but I think it can be read independently.
Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕
Warnings: Infant Death, Angst.
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Daeron groaned again in his sleep. Instantly Aegon dipped another handkerchief back into the water while you removed the one on the boy's forehead so that your husband could place the new handkerchief. The groans subsided making a small part of Aegon feel relieved but he would rather hear Daeron's groans than silence. Daenera had died quietly, without making a single sound.
"He'll be fine," you said in an attempt to reassure Aegon but also yourself. Neither of them had slept since Daeron got sick. Two days had already passed since the Master interrupted your chambers to inform you that his son had fallen asleep in the middle of his lessons and that when he wanted to wake him up he realized that he was flying with fever. Since then Aegon had not left Daeron's side while you only left the room to see how the rest of your children were and to make sure that Aemond had everything under control. "His fever is already going down," you announced as you stroked Daeron's face.
"I won't rest until he's fully healed," Aegon admitted. He knew it was a simple disease but still, he was afraid. Something could always happen. Life taught him that when he lost Jaehaerys, Maelor, and Daenera. The deaths of his children were sudden. He hadn't had the chance to say goodbye to them, he couldn't tell them that he loved them or be by his side during his last breath… At least now he could accompany Daeron. He hadn't been there for Jaehaerys or Maelor. If he had been there no one would have dared to touch them. Now he was with Daeron but he couldn't do anything because this time it wasn't about criminals or a violent servitude wanting to harm him but the enemy was a disease. He couldn't threaten or force the disease to leave his son's body. He felt helpless. It made him want to scream at the thought of another of his children dying and he again did nothing to help. He wasn't going to be able to take it. He couldn't go through this again.
Your hand brought him back to reality. He clung to your touch in an attempt to keep himself from dwelling on the possible death of another of his children.
"I know. I'm scared too” you said and kissed his knuckles “But he's not Daenera” you reminded him with a soft voice imagining where your husband's mind was going. “She is dead but Daeron is still alive. You have to stop mourning our son as if he were already dead" you asked, squeezing his hand "Daeron is strong, trust him"
Your words were like a slap to Aegon. I knew you were right. But he couldn't control his head. His mind tormented him with images of Daeron dying, with the silent sisters wrapping around his little body as they once did Jaehaerys and Daenera's, with you again standing before the pyre trying to gather strength to order your dragons to burn. the body of another of his sons…At least this time it wouldn't be a violent death. It wouldn't be like Jaehaerys and Maelor. He felt like vomiting when he remembered the body of his firstborn without his head, his discomfort increased at the memory of the murmurs of how little Maelor's mutilated body had been left. He had never seen it. He couldn't be at his funeral.
"Aegon" Now your hands were on his cheeks and you looked at him with pure concern. And he hates himself for doing this to you. You were already worried about Daeron, you didn't need any more worries. He had to be strong, he needed to be strong for you but he couldn't.” “You should sleep. You're just torturing yourself by staying awake. I'll call the maestre to give you something to help you sleep."
"No!" Aegon exclaimed and grabbed your wrists before you could get away from him "Please don't take me away from him" your heart broke at the despair in your husband's eyes "I need to be by his side. I can not leave it. What if the same thing happens as with Daenera?” He said with a broken voice.
Daenera Targaryen died while everyone was sleeping. You woke up in the middle of the morning to Daeron's cries asking to be fed, you were surprised not to hear a single moan from his twin because when one of the two cried it didn't take long for the other to join in the lamentations so you went to see her at her cradle. You started to scream when you realized that your daughter's small chest was not moving. Your husbands were not long in appearing at your side. The guards entered with raised swords ready to fight any threat only to find you weeping in Aemond's arms, who stood between you and Daenera's cradle to prevent you from seeing your dead daughter's body any further. As soon as he saw the guards, Aegon began to yell at them to bring all the maesters quickly, although you knew that it was already too late and that it would be useless. They confirmed what you already knew: that your baby was dead.
"It won't happen"
The moment you saw the tears running down your husband's cheeks you hugged him. The king hid his face in your neck and clung to you as he continued to cry, hating himself for being weak. He should be the one holding you, he should be your rock, he should be the one stroking your hair while he whispered soothing words to you. Not vice versa. He could see that you were trying to be strong for both of you but he noticed that your voice was getting more and more shaky and he wasn't surprised when he heard you sob. You had told him that you were also afraid and instead of calming you down, he only made everything worse. He was a terrible husband.
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heliads · 5 months
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hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!
just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo
'someone take me home ' - harry potter
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The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.
Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.
The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.
Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.
Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.
Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.
To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.
His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.
He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.
Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.
The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.
Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.
Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.
Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.
For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.
Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.
Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.
Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”
Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”
“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.
He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”
“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”
It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.
Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.
No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.
Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.
Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.
Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.
The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.
He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.
He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”
Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”
“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”
He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.
Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.
“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.
Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”
Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?” 
For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.
“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”
Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.
“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.
“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”
The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”
He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”
He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”
Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.
Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”
“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”
Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”
“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”
Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”
“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.
“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.
Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.
Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.
Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.
“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.
Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”
“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”
It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.
An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–
He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.
Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.
There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely. 
“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”
“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.
“I promise,” she smiles.
Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.
At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.
harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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alicemation-1 · 8 months
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i think that winter king is more “sane ice king” than “magical simon” for the following reasons:
1) just like ice king, winter king was never really knew who betty was, so it stands to realson that if ice king got simons memories he would probably just think about her as “the dead one” (also, this probably also confirms that she isnt around in present ooo as in the prime universe simon only thinks betty ran away when in reality he brought her to ooo)
2) he cares about marcy as before she left him/died (there is a super cool comic where marcy dieing triggers the spell that im going to count as cannon because i want to) as ice king ALSO already cared about marceline, so upon getting simons memories back he probably was still attached.
3) simon never really wanted to make a kingdom in the first place! where as ice king did (like when wk says “manifesting your own desires” in his song)
4) Simon would have known what it was like to be insane and he would have actively tried to help fix bubblegum AND himself like we see i the episode
if you can think if any more reasons and/or rebuttals i would love to know them, my last post like this got a ton of reblogs and it was so fun to read through all the other ideas people had
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ellievickstar · 10 months
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Between Two worlds (Discontinued)
A/N: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS. Okay so basically my debut of my series: Between two worlds, where I make a series with a love triangle where it is between my two biggest characters: (I'm not gonna spoil the character read the fic to find out) and Azriel. I hope you guys enjoy!!! PS. nothing much really happens yet, but I am doing a time skip for the second chapter after this, this chapter is more so that you understand the AU.
Summary: After fifty years of being under Amarantha's reign, you finally reunite with your brother, can have a leisure day with a friend, and secretly meet up with an old enemy.
Request: N/A
Pairing: Azriel x Reader, -find out later- x reader
Warnings: This is a build up to a love triangle. More of a AU building chapter. Also mentions of abuse, sexual assault and harassment. Weapons.
Between Two Worlds / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (coming soon)
~*~*~*~*~
“She's my mate! She's my mate!” Rhys exclaimed as he suddenly winnowed in front of you. You nearly jumped back in shock as you began to process what was happening. “Firstly, welcome back, it's been fifty years. Secondly, who?” You asked patiently as Rhys breathed heavily, keeling over on his knees as magic seemed to burst out of him, causing you to take a step back. Mor bent down as she checked Rhys's condition to make sure he was not delusional.
Eventually your brother managed to get off the floor with the help of Azriel and Cassian and explained everything. Feyre, how Amarantha was dead, how he had had his visions. When he finally finished you didn't know whether you were surprised…or relieved. To be honest, you sort of expected that your brother would get into some sort of shit during the fifty years he was in captivity.
However, after everyone else left you lingered for a moment, sensing that your brother was holding something else back. He met your eyes as his shoulders slumped, and you approached slowly as you sat on his bed next to him. He brought you closer using his wings as you sat next to each other in silence. You smiled at the memories it brought back.
“I know you're not telling me something. You have the same expression from when you came home after father died,” You said softly, Rhys hummed as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. At first, you thought that he wouldn't answer your question but a soft knock on your mental shields spoke what hadn't been said. You show me mine, I'll show you yours.
And so you did. You know that showing him the effects of the curse wouldn't help his probably festering guilt, but you knew that you couldn't hide from him. You only had each other, it would do more harm than good if you didn't confide in each other. Rhys took the guilt of letting you follow him to that party all those years ago, and as a warning to him, Amarantha had placed a curse on you which forced you to live through your worst years of struggles. The times you were in the Illyrian camps as a female, the times your father berated you for defending yourself with magic and had you hung and whipped. Rhys made a strangled noise.
When he finally showed you his memories, you were aghast as you wanted to throw up. This…this felt worse than the time you were harassed at the Illyrian camps. At the time Azriel and Cassian had come to save you, but this? You were nauseous. Desperately, you flung yourself against your brother as he let a stray tear fall. “I am here with you,” You said. The phrase was sacred, it showed how you would always stand by his side no matter who or what opposed him, you would be there fighting for him, with him. And you knew he would do the same for you too.
You both stayed like that for a while, staying in each other's comforting and ever-loving embrace. Making a joke about how he had been so desperate to spend time with his mate he made a bargain to kidnap her once a month. It was then that he nearly elbowed you in the ribs and you ran off squealing while he pretended to chase you.
Crashing into a wall of muscle, you hid behind the looming shadow singer who seemed to be in shock as he raised the blade he was polishing away from your head. “Az save me!” You shouted as you clung to the spymaster, he politely smiled at Rhys as he pretended to 'guard' you. Rhys scoffed, muttering something about favouritism as you stuck your tongue out at him. After a while, he sighed and went to find Mor, mumbling to himself about a less biassed family.
Azriel turned to face you, eyebrows raised as you shrugged and perched yourself onto a stool next to him, picking up a bloody dagger, wanting to help police and sharpen the various weapons to pass time, however, Ariel tutted as he set down the dagger in his hand, “You’ll hurt yourself, and I don’t need Rhys coming after me for letting you play with a knife, sweetheart.”
You scoffed as you snatched the dagger back up. “Rhys can go to hell if he thinks he can control any aspect of my life,” Azriel just smiled in return. You had a good friendship with Az, after all, when the three of them were younger he was the one who hung out with you the most after finishing all the daily training. Cassian was busy training even more, and Rhys was off doing whatever royal duties he had to attend to. Azriel was also the same person who first taught you how to fly, seeing as the camp you went to refused to see as you were a female. Devlon was a bastard then and he’s a bastard now. Or so Azriel says. On top of all that, Azriel also trained your combat skills - in which he will always hold over your head because you have only ever beaten him once at a fight - and he also taught you how to read.
Yes. Funny enough, Azriel had taught you how to read after Keir had deliberately said that you should focus less on books and more on looking pretty and being good enough to marry off. Your father promised to teach you eventually, but Azriel thought it would be funny to stick it to Mor’s father. He soon regretted it because you eventually loved reading so much that every time he went to visit a small town near the camps, you begged him to bring you back at least one or two new books for your enjoyment. He did use it as leverage from time to time during training, so eventually it worked out.
“So, any good books you’ve read recently? Or is it just the usual book porn,” Azriel teased as he set to work on a sword. You groaned inwardly and would have slumped over the table if you weren’t holding a blade. “It was one time that you caught me reading that Az, and besides, it’s ROMANCE books. Anyways, yes I have read a good book recently, but I doubt you would bear any interest,” You replied.
Smirking at you, he motioned for you to continue, the bastard knew you were aching to tell him every single detail of the book, probably suspected that you were about to attack someone with a rant. As you went on about the newest fantasy read, he chimed in with a few remarks here and there, and eventually it just turned into a whole session with both of you debasing every single thing that was wrong with the male lead in the book. Well, the second male lead.
“You don’t understand Azriel, he was so hot! And the grovelling!” You squealed as you recalled how the two leads had finally reconciled after a horrible mistake. It seems like you were more interested in the romance than the actual plot of the high fantasy novel. “Must have been nice,” Azriel hummed as he finished the last dagger. Wait- the last dagger!? You turned to a clock on the wall as you realised just what time it was in the evening. Oh god, you were late. Jumping from the stool, you quickly excused yourself as you ran towards the open balcony doors that Azriel had left open when you both decided that the room you were in was stuffy.
“I have to meet someone, but please read the novel! Maybe if you read more books you wouldn’t just be a pretty face!” You yelled back, wings springing from your back as they flared and flapped, allowing yourself to take off before Azriel could say anything. And just like that you were off.
~*~*~*~*~
“I am so so sorry I am so late I promise it will never happen again,” Breathing in and out you folded your wings away. The male chuckled as he leaned against a tree, letting out a full on laugh as you fell to your knees from exhaustion from flapping your wings so hard just to get here fast, to meet him.
“Well, if you weren’t so set on leaving if I didn’t show up after 15minutes on our routine time, I wouldn’t have had to rush here!” You hissed. He just grinned down at you and that’s when you realised you were on your knees, looking up at him. Letting out a snarl, you pushed off the ground, standing up and crossing your arms to face him, he just let out a mock look of regret.
“Shame, I thought you were finally tearing me like the High Lord’s son I am,” He teased. You wanted to throw a branch at his face but instead settled for a light burn on his ego. “Well I would respect you if there was anyone to respect, Eris.”
That’s right. Eris Vanserra. The lord of the Autumn Court was smiling down at you and exchanging insults with you. He clenched his heart at your words. “You wound me, little flame, how can I ever recover?” You folded at the old nickname, flinging yourself at Eris as you jumped up and hugged him. Fifty years since you last saw your old friend. Fifty years. And you missed him dearly.
When Mor had been found by Azriel, she relayed the events that happened and you had been furious, and as it had just happened to be, you father was taking you and your brother on a little trip to the Autumn Court to show you both everything, however, as Rhys was now to enraged to go, you needed to go alone. Eventually your father and Beron had left you and Eris in a room together to ‘bond’ while they really discussed matters between courts, and you had grabbed that opportunity like your life depended on it and lunged at Eris, as you were quite small compared to him, he tackled you easily and growled at you to stop being a child.
You had demanded an explanation from him and he had given one, explaining how his father was physically, emotionally, mentally and verbally abusive, and if he hadn’t left Mor to die, he would have subjected her to a life just like his mother’s. And he would never knowingly do that to anyone. Being the open-minded person and amazing you were, you heard him out. However, till this day you prompted him to finally put down his pride and apologise for the way he did things, sure it came from good intentions, but it was still flawed. He, of course, refuses, and you don’t want to push the matter.
“So, any updates about the ‘how-to-kill-your-father’ plan? Or have you just been sitting around these fifty years?” He smirked at your words, laughing as you sat down, your legs being extremely tired for absolutely no other reason than standing for the short period of time you had. Quickly joining you on the floor, he spoke about the events that happened on his side before you shared yours.
“Amarantha is a bitch,” You muttered, “True that,” He agreed, raising a fist as if in solidarity. Humming, you leaned against the tree behind you, Eris doing the same as you both sat shoulder to shoulder, while Eris fiddled with the ends of your hair, you played with the various rings on his finger, slipping them on and off and turning them around in your hand.
When you reached his middle finger, you pulled off the ring. It was simple gold band had small carvings that decorated the entire ring, some even had small diamonds that tied the ring together nicely, but the carving that really caught your eye was the fox.
“My mother had that crafted and made for me when I was young. Every carving is something special and unique to only this ring,” He explained. You made a small noise of amazement as you tuned it over in your hand again, “I love it, it’s so pretty,” You admitted. Smiling down at you, he seemed to think for a moment before removing one of the various chains around his neck, and handing it to you as well. “Keep them both, just promise me you’ll wear it,” Stunned, you tried to give the chain and the ring back but he refused, claiming that he wanted you to have it.
The chain was obviously so you could wear the ring as a necklace seeing as it was far too large for any of your fingers. With Eris’s help, you put it on and he grinned, smirking about how you looked absolutely dazzling with your new accessory and you should thank him that you can look so utterly divine.
You slapped his shoulder, which honestly probably hurt you more than it did him.
It was at this point that you both finally parted, him winnowing away but not before he hugged you and murmured his goodbye as he rested his head on top of yours. And as you felt blood rush to your cheeks, he was gone. As if he was never there, the only proof of your meeting was the ring that now hung around your neck.
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: SO!? What do you think :D I'm curious about feedback. Also some additional warnings about this series is that there will be angst, it would not be me without angst. There will be A LOT of angst. ALSO AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS ERIS WOULD BE A BIG RING-WEARER!??
taglist: @positivewitch
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peachymilkandcream · 6 months
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Movie!William Afton x Wife!Reader Scrapped Part 2
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(A/N: Someone asked in the comments of the last one for a Part 2 and here we are! Part 2 of Scrapped babyyyy! In which Vanessa is reunitted with her mother. I also may or may not have been watching Markiplier's FNAF playthroughs while writing this but hey. Hope you enjoy and please read the warnings!)
WARNINGS: Implied and mentions of noncon, dubcon, violence, domestice violence, age difference, power dynamic, murder, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, descriptions of gore
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William had been recovering well, his deep wounds had become little more than dark red dents in his skin as he healed. Husband and wife had been silent since that night, aside from simple requests and small talk they hadn't talked about what they saw, what they knew. She knew about the murders, she knew what he was, each of the children, stuffed into the suits of the place where they had brought their own children so many times. And yet she said nothing.
"So are we going to pretend nothing happened?" He asked all of a sudden while she changed his bandages.
"What do you mean?"
"The murders. You know. What got me into that suit, surely you figured it out by now, you're not that stupid."
She pauses for a moment, just long enough to convey her true feelings. "Yes I know."
Annoyed she doesn't continue he presses further. "And? You can't just say nothing."
"What is there to say William? You killed children, you almost died. What more can I say? You think I'd leave you now? Report you to the police?"
"That's how most normal people would react."
His wife sighs, trying to find the words. "Look. You're my husband. I have no life outside of our marriage. No education, nowhere to go, I don't know where Micheal or Vanessa are because you told me they left without a trace so how could I get rid of you? You're my support, my rock."
William lets a half smile come to his face, this was the woman of his dreams. Sticking by him through thick and thin. He almost regrets not telling her years ago about what he did, maybe then he could have someone to help clean up his messes. "You're really are special, you know that?"
She blushes and he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, settling his hand on her chin and pulling her closer and in for a kiss. All his schemes and plans had led up to this, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
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Every once and a while Vanessa liked to visit the old place, despite everything her father had done she had some fond memories as a child here. It was the one place where her mother was happy, all the other memories she had of her were crying or blindly agreeing with whatever her dad said. The times she'd venture to the back office just to witness her father forcing her mother down. Vanessa shivered, sure this place had a few good moments, but most were overcast by the dark shadow of her father's madness.
But memories wasn't why she was there that night, she was searching for William. Ever since that night she couldn't get him out of her head, he was most likely dead from his wounds, but the thought didn't comfort her. She had never actually seen him die, and knowing him, it was like he had nine lives. Worry brought her out tonight, she had to see the body to feel safe in her own home again, content that he really was never going to come for her again.
It didn't help that she couldn't find it now, from what Mike had told her the children had dragged him away in that damn suit, but to where was anyone's guess. The place had always been too big, and now she was scouring it just for a peace of mind.
Lights other than her own flashlight in the main dining room caught her attention. She hoped Mike hadn't brought Abby back to visit, she could kill him for that if William was somehow still alive. But her flashlight slid from her hand when she saw the woman she thought she'd never see again.
"...Mom?"
Her mother looked up, surprised to hear the voice, but tearing up when she saw her sweet daughter. "Vanessa? Is that you my dear? Oh my what are you doing here?"
She holds out her arms for a hug, which Vanessa rushes into. How long had it been since she'd talked to her? Every time she had phoned William answered and demanded that she never call back. The one time the call went through all her mother did was defend William with every breath she had even as Vanessa told her about the crimes he had committed.
"I missed you mom-" Vanessa gives her one final squeeze before letting go. "I should ask what you're doing here."
"Well these things were your father's pride and joy, it hurts me to see them rot like this. Plus I feel like I have more of an understanding of them now."
Vanessa perked up. "Now? Why now?"
Her mother met her gaze. "I know about it Vanessa, what William did, I know about it all."
She sighs with relief, finally her mother believed all the rumours, now with dad gone she could be free of him, free to live her life. "I'm glad you don't have to live with the lies anymore Mom, he kept so much from you."
"I'm sure he had his reasons, your father is a headstrong man."
Frustration flowed through Vanessa, she always did this, her mother never had a backbone on anything except when it came to Dad. People regularly walked all over her and she just accepted whatever anyone said except if it was against that man. "Mom he kept me and Micheal from you."
"But honey you never called, how could he keep me from you."
Tears spring into her eyes. "I called Mom...I called...so many times, he answers and then doesn't tell you I've phoned-"
"Now why would your father do that?"
"Because he's a psychopath Mom, I've been telling you this for years. He hurt you, he neglected us, he murdered children! How can you defend him?!"
"Don't raise your tone at me young lady."
Vanessa sighs and tries to calm her nerves. "Why didn't you leave him Mom?"
She crosses her arms. "And go where Vanessa? You and Micheal left and without an education or a means to support myself where could I go? Your father has given me everything I could ask for. And on top of that I love him to death."
"He hurt you Mom-"
"And I needed a bit of discipline when I was young and reckless, I've changed for the better."
Vanessa sighs. "Whatever, I won't argue." She shifts feet awkwardly. "How have you been holding up though? With him gone."
What she didn't expect was her mother to seem confused. "What are you talking about? Your father hasn't gone anywhere."
Her eyebrows furrow, and dread fills her as she hears footsteps. The same dread that filled her dreams, praying that she wouldn't see her father come through those doors like he did now. "There are you are my love. And who's this? You found dear Vanessa, coming to find me and fix me up, don't worry sweetheart, your mother already did that."
Vanessa stares at her mother with wide eyes. "You helped him!? Why!? Why didn't you just let this bastard rot!?"
"He's your father Vanessa, be respectful, and besides, I couldn't just leave him here to die could I?"
"Yes! You could have avenged those poor children!"
William smirked. "As you can see your mother hasn't forgotten her loyalties like you have. She fixed me up good as new, she was worried about me unlike you. I knew you'd come back, I knew you wouldn't have let that wound kill you so easily. Now you prey on your mother, filling her head with doubts and ideas to fit your selfish narrative. No more. You will never speak to her again or else I'll finish what I started."
"I can't do that Dad, I can't let you continue hurting her."
William sighed. "That's such a shame. We could have been a family again but you insist on breaking your mother's heart." He runs a hand through his wife's hair. "Sweetheart? Go wait in the car while I take care of this with our daughter."
She simply nods, leaving the two alone and not questioning the murderous look in his eye.
"Now Vanessa, shall we finish this?"
============================================
A long time had passed, and finally William joined her in the car.
"Is everything okay honey?" She asked.
"Yes dear, Vanessa and I had a good heart to heart, she won't be bothering us again."
She accepted it, as always, although deep down she questioned why a heart to heart covered him in so much blood.
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Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 4
Hi Friends! Part four is here for you first!
General warnings for ya'll
Big sads, panic, PTSD, flashbacks/traumatic memories, Danny should come with his own warning, canonical plus one death but it's Danny, guilt (does it classify as survivor guilt? idk)
Anyway! I hope you enjoy! The Ao3 version will be up soon too!
Stay safe, take care of yourselves please, take your meds if you need to, water yourself, eat some food, get some sun! Much love to you all
~Ren
Danny hadn’t woken up this comfortable in a long time. Fingers dragged through his hair carefully working out knots before scratching at his scalp. He was curled into someone’s side. His automatic thought is he crawled into bed with Jazz after patrol. He grumbles a reply as he tries to bury his face deeper into the shirt? Blanket? Whatever it was, it was soft against his cheek. His core is purring in contentment. He feels safe. Something he hasn’t truly felt in a long time. He melts, even if Danny doesn’t understand why the logical part of his brain is begging him to be suspicious. He pushes the thought away and wants to revel in being close to his sister, just for a moment. 
A voice breaks the silence. “Are you awake Danyal?” It comes out hushed, but warm and fond. A distinctly male voice. Danny jerks so harshly the boy he’s resting with begins fussing, worried Danny pulled something.
Danny’s eyes shoot open and he tries to rear back to get a good look, something pulls in his chest but Danny ignores it. His brother’s arm tightens around him keeping him nestled into his side. His brother is staring back at him. Danny looks him over for the first time since he died in the League all those years ago. 
Short dark hair and a face like his own. Danny wants to weep gazing into his emerald eyes. How often had he transformed just to see green eyes instead of blue. Even if doing so brought his memories of the lazarus pits to the surface. 
(He doesn’t really remember, it was a wisp of a memory. His Mother carefully hiding their presence as she rushed his limp body to the pits. It was just nothingness… for once. No more harsh shouts and bruises just the soft transition from alive to dead. His heart had stopped, his lungs refused to bring in more air and then nothing changed to screaming pain searing him down to his bones, or maybe he was the thing screaming as he could feel what little air he had escaped into the toxic water he had been tossed into. He remembers the frantic way he swam upwards, breakinging the surface with hacks and coughs, only to see an unfamiliar landscape around him. This water was actually water, some sort of lake as far as he could tell. A little girl sitting on the dock had reached over and pulled him out of the water by the scruff of his shirt. When Jazz would recall she had always fondly said she had fished out her rabid kitten that day. The rest was history.)  
Danny couldn’t help himself. Kept going back to his mirror to stare into toxic swirling green, trying so desperately to see his brother reflected back. Only to swallow disappointment when the reflection always fell short. For all his genius, for all the solid, crystal clear memories he does have of Damian they are few. All the more Danny hoarded them cradled in between his ribs, mapped them along the many scars that he gained before meeting the Fentons. He had spent so many nights tracing them trying to remember just how he had gotten the mark, Danny instinctually knew that they would lead him to remembering the boy who’s shadows haunted him. Desperate and determined to hold onto any connection to his older brother.
Danny takes a moment to really look at Damian. Damian looks healthy, a bit tired maybe, but his clothes are casual and clean. Nothing like what they wore in training. Damian isn’t as tan as he was as a child, but it was a small difference. There is a faint scar by Damian’s left eye that catches Danny’s attention, it trails down his cheek and under his ear. His hand moves to cup his twin’s face without thinking, softly tracing the mark. Danny aches at the thought that Damian could’ve lost an eye while they were apart. A few more inches down or over and his brother wouldn’t be alive in front of him like this. 
“Damian” The name comes out broken, filled with reverence and awe. Danny can be certain at least in this moment they are safe, together now after a decade. Damian wouldn’t allow himself to be truly relaxed if they were still in danger. 
The world resettles around him. Danny remembers his escape, the portal that ripped through reality to reunite him with his twin. There was so much blood, Danny was sure he was gonna die for good on the floor of some dirty warehouse. Shame floods his system and settles beneath his lungs. Danny grips his hair in frustration as he tries to fill in the yawning blank spots of the last twenty four hours. His delirious panic yesterday is mostly a blur, he can remember soft whispers of Arabic and careful touches. How far he has fallen. He should know better. He should be better. 
He sees the questions that Damian wants to demand answers for behind his favorite pair of green eyes, the frustration that builds under his skin the longer his brother waits to ask. He wishes Damian would just ask him. Danny takes a trembling breath. Danny is confused why he would hesitate, his brother was never one to hold his tongue. A quick glance around some sort of medical room. It seems for now they are alone, proof Damian has some sort of regard or leverage here with their Father. With slight amusement, Danny catches the slight glare of wire and is sure part of the peace came from his twin having trapped any entry points into the room. 
As Danny takes more in the room uncertainty takes root as he starts catching sight of more of his brother’s traps, he was very thorough. Like he was trapping his bedroom in the League from those who would want to cull one of the young heirs. 
Perhaps Damian is also uncertain about his family’s reaction to Danny since he felt the need to defend them in such a way. Truth was Danny had no idea what any of the Bats were truly like. A few rumors about how metas weren’t welcome in Gotham had circulated but other than his childhood stories about their mysterious father Danny was going into this blind. His mother’s opinion was one thing, but Danny refused to be blinded by his feelings again so soon. Mother had said their father loved them, but what assurance was that? Mother wasn’t exactly a good standard to judge others on. The Fentons had said they loved him, they had taken him in as one of their own and raised him. After watching him grow up they didn’t flinch once strapping him to that table. Danny wants to ask just what about his existence is such a threat he must be wiped from the Earth, his memory squashed and scattered. Singular snapshots in time that are taken as the whole of his being. He could run again if he had to, if things go south and Batman also believes Phantom is a threat. If the vigilante wants to turn him over to the GIW...  
A shiver works its way down Danny’s spine and he pulls Damian closer. He can be untouchable and invisible in seconds, Danny reminds himself. The thought of leaving Damian so soon after their reunion makes him pale and his core protest in his chest. His form shutters for a brief moment. Danny tried to shove down the sudden desperation and panic he felt. He had nowhere else he wanted to be, together they could figure something out. Danny wouldn’t have to run. 
His brother is watching him carefully, goes to say something but Danny needs his older brother to just listen for a moment and pushes closer, a gentle hand over Damian’s mouth to silence him. “You said we were with Father. Do you trust them? Are you safe here?” The Arabic stumbles out of him in a hushed whisper. 
They stay like that, staring at each other. An assessment. Danny wants to shrink under his twin’s steady gaze but won’t look away. How Damian responds is important, Danny might be out of practice reading his brother’s expressions but if he tries to placate him, if Danyal isn’t safe here, Damian won’t be able to fully hide his unease. A soft grip pulls his hand away and Damian looks exasperated as he leans forward to bump their temple’s together. “Yes. Our Father adopted many children that despite their overdramatic behavior, they are reliable,” Damian says it begrudgingly but he also sounds incredibly fond. Well, fond for Damian. His brother had never given out meaningless praise before Danny was sure that hadn’t changed in their time apart. He can picture the way Damian’s face softens as he whispers between them, “Father allows me to care for a handful of animals and last Christmas Grayson and Pennyworth presented me with a Studio to create my art pieces in. ” 
A soft awed sound leaves him as Danny tips his head forward onto Damian’s shoulder. It’s just like Damian to know exactly what Danny was searching for even after all these years. Damian can indulge in things that once were decreed by Grandfather as weak here. He can be vulnerable and is with enough regularity that he has a special studio that was made specifically for him to use and a multitude of animals to care for. Danny is suddenly so happy Damian can spend his days petting animals and creating art on canvas instead of training. His brother could hold a brush in his hand instead of honing himself into a weapon to be wielded for the benefit of their Grandfather and his legacy. This was what they whispered about in the dark as children.
Relief is sweet, his body sags into Damian’s. Danny’s smile is so big it almost takes up his whole face, he’s almost drunk with how the release bubbles through his veins. His brother wouldn’t lie to him. If Damian would now just ask the questions they both know he’s itching to, Danny can answer them. Danny will trust his brother, if he trusts the family he is with now then he will too. Likely feeling Danny’s rising nerves Damian leans to catch his eye. “What happened to you, Danyal?” 
Danny can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves him as he sags back into the bed. This conversation will be long and he’d prefer not to go over it twice. “You wanna gather the Bats? I don’t want to go over this a million times.” He can’t help how sad and tired it comes out. 
It’s not the reaction Damian was expecting, unsure what sparked the change in his twin as he just blinks at Danny for a moment before smoothly replying. “ No one but me has access to the Recovery Room at this moment, although Pennyworth has successfully pleaded for his access to be temporarily reinstated when your bandages need to be changed and wounds assessed. I have stayed close to you since we brought you back since we were unsure if you would recognize any of the others and I refused to risk you panicking and reopening your chest wound again.” The hard glare at Danny’s chest makes it clear that Danny will not be escaping the care now that he is conscious and that Damian was aware of the possibility Danny pulled something earlier. He prayed he didn’t pop a stitch, half-ghost or not Damian was still very scary when upset. 
With a huff Damian adds, “Though the family is sure watching through the cameras as they are both worried and incredibly nosy, especially when a new sibling is involved.”  Danny could barely breathe, his gaze bounced about trying to spot the glint of a camera lens. The room felt smaller. How long have they been watching them? Why wouldn’t they confront him? When would people stop impersonally observing him? Were they scared to be close to him? Worried about contamination?
Before the fear could settle Damian caught Danny’s attention. “I simply meant you only have to tell me, once, here. I.. We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had done this to you.” The uneasy lit to Damian’s words was matched by his restless need to play with Danny’s fingers. “The family while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.” 
Danny sat stunned. He would never say his brother was mean or cruel in their childhood but consideration of another person was frowned upon outside of ensuring the success of team missions. More often than not those who couldn’t keep up didn’t return. It’s just how the League had worked. For his twin to shield him, possibly creating tension amongst his family just to make Danny feel comfortable. He wasn’t sure how to respond. 
It hurt to see how much his twin had grown in Danny’s absence but it also made Danny flush with pride. Damian’s behavior is proof to Damian’s claims that their father truly is different, maybe even safe for someone like Danny. Swallowing all the things he could say Danny clears his throat with a small but real smile, “Thank you Dami.” 
Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now. 
With a deep breath Danny goes back as far as he can.The terror of fighting to his first death, the enchanting embrace of the dark, his violent resurrection in the pit. How when he surfaced some strange red-headed girl was in his Ahki’s place to pull him soaking wet to the solid wood of the dock. How Danny knew their mother had defied the Demon Head and even if he knew how to get there, Danny could never go back. How when he had done his best to shake off his disorientation it had been childs play to integrate him into the strange family that found him. Danny was good at hiding, at adapting. 
Danny didn’t know how exactly but the Fentons had gotten their hands on a forged birth certificate and social security documents. He assumed through some government contract seeking their expertise on ghosts or weaponry. It was as if he had always existed in Amity Park, there was enough of a rotating population that not many remembered differently. Danyal Al Ghul son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, twin heir to the Shadow and the Bat fully became Daniel Fenton, only son to Maddie and Jack Fenton, younger sibling of Jasmine Fenton.  
Things had been great for a while! Easy even. He gained a sister in Jazz. As he got better at socializing, Jazz’s dedication to practicing with him paid off, he gained friends in Sam and Tucker. Their afternoons spent studying or hanging out at Nasty Burger. He had creative parents who knew so much about science, technology and the universe. Who would take Danny and Jazz camping so they could fish, and eat fudge-filled s’mores by the fire. School was boring but he liked going to the library and looking at their books on space. 
Danny could’ve never imagined how happy life could be away from obligation and duty. Away from his Grandfather. He could live happily while keeping his weakness from eroding the League further. Danny had tried so hard to forget, forget so his guilt about him alone getting all these soft experiences wouldn’t eat him alive. How dare he friviously enjoy a normal childhood when his brother was left behind with the course sand and suffocating expectations.
Things had been great until their obsession with completing the portal infected his new home. That kind of overwhelming happiness was simply too good to be true for someone who had done the things Danny has. His parents would spend days holed up in the basement building. Grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, and maintenance to the house it all fell to the side. House keeping wasn’t nearly as interesting as trying to build a bridge to another world. Eventually Jazz dragged Danny to the library so she could teach them how to do those things on their own. Danny could never tell her he already had learned to do most chores on his own by the age of 5 and if the debit card stopped working he could trap and clean something reasonably sized in the woods for them to eat. 
Danny had tried to convince himself after the portal failed to open at his parent’s big presentation things would soon return to their normal, as chaotic as that normal was. Sure they had been really upset, slipping into depression, but they always started up again. Gained their groove. They had gone on their vacation and… Then the portal turned on. Well, he turned it on and was electrocuted with the entirety of the town’s power grid. (They had done the math at some point to figure out the exact voltage but Danny had never wanted it written down, if Tucker thought it was important to know he could keep it hidden under his firewall in a secure file.) 
His second death was painful. The electricity had burned its way through his body, stopping his heart, only for the ectoplasm to force it to beat once more. He was sure his heart would burst under the strain. Or the ectoplasm would rip holes in the delicate tissue as it puppeteered it into the sluggish beating he has now. How does he put into words what becoming the gateway between two realities feels like? It was… An eternity hoping for the agony lighting up his nerves to end in the seconds it took for the ectoplasm to merge with him down to his DNA. He could feel his cells splice, die, stutter, and trip but life surged and evolved. He became something new, something unknown, something rare.
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princeblack · 2 months
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regulus black has been dead for one hundred and twenty-one years and the only voice he knows now is hers. it’s warm, wrapping around his soul and making him feel less alone; less of a memory and more of a person again. he’s still there, lingering, even a century after his death, having his life ripped away from him because of consumption.
what she didn’t know is he wasn’t your average dead man in any dead grave. or maybe she did know that, somewhere deep down. why else would he become her favorite? he felt her favoritism every time she leaned against his tombstone, talking about her days as if he were her friend and not the ghost of someone she would never know. his name is etched on the tombstone, but nothing more remains aside from the bust his mother had sculpted to commemorate her lost son. she had come to his grave to weep at it until consumption took her life as well, dwindling the numbers in the black family to almost nothing.
regulus had a life once, born as the son of a wealthy noble and raised strictly by way of his mother, given better education than most and learning complex science and math others didn’t have access to at a young age. he was familiar with the arts as well, writing and playing piano better than anyone in their town. he even proved to be adept at what was usually saved for the lower class, like caring for animals and livestock. not that his mother was a fan of him being friendly with the local farmers, saying it was beneath his father’s family and they had a reputation to uphold. besides that, there was danger to associating with the common folk because of what they were.
orion black was a successful businessman who amassed wealth through investments and commercial ventures, known even outside of their hometown for his fortune and contributions to various enterprises. orion wanted regulus to manage his estate and investments when he was old enough, although his mother was more worried about teaching him her own family’s ways, including inducting him into the family coven.
many still believed in witches, especially in such a rural area, and regulus’s family wasn’t safe from the persecution they’d face if anyone found out. it was a cult in a sense, regulus being brought up in the ways of the religion; worshiping and sacrificing to the the Horned One in order for their family to keep their powers. the old god was displeased when andromeda left the coven, withholding some of their powers for a time.
unluckily for regulus, this was when he fell ill, soon to meet an untimely fate. stricken with grief, walburga had done what magic she could, not enough to heal him but at least enough to resurrect him if all magical requirements were met.
she harnessed the power of a comet overhead, using its magic to reverse his death once it were to pass over again.
at least, this is how it was explained to regulus just before he died. he waited over a century after, sure that the spell had failed (and even if it didn’t, his loved ones were surely dead anyway).
that is, until he meets her.
she cares for his grave, scrubbing it clean and leaving flowers for him every week. she even gazes at his statue, talking to him as if he could talk back. regulus isn’t man anymore; only spirit, but even so he can see how beautiful she is and he knows she’s the most perfect human being to ever walk the earth. who else would care for someone they don’t know and keep his memory alive more than his family ever did?
one night she gifts him her aunt’s necklace, leaving it on his bust as an offering. he remembers her sweet words, explaining why she wanted him to have it and even murmuring that she wishes she could be with him. it’s then that he’s sure she can feel it, too– his spirit, and the way the two of them are drawn together, even with death and life separating them still.
his soul longs for her, wondering if the comet will pass by sometime before her life is over.
luckily, the night finally comes, and he can feel his awareness shift, being sucked below. once he was apart of the cemetery; apart of the breeze, just another spirit among many. but now he can feel his awareness being siphoned down, pulled into blackness, and then he’s there.
everything is dark, but he can feel his body. he’s almost not sure if this is real, but the weight of the ground is pressing down on him and it’s only because of magic that animates his body that he has the strength to claw his way from the dirt without suffocating. it takes some difficulty, struggling to reach the surface, but he eventually pushes through the ground, emerging from the soil and dragging himself out.
he can breathe, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest, almost as if he doesn’t have to because he’s dead. dirt falls off of him as he stands on unsteady legs, almost overwhelmed by his surroundings in the overgrown graveyard. the breeze is something he hasn’t felt on his face in over a century, along with the way air rests in his lungs. the moon is shining down on him, round and full, illuminating his tombstone and the bust his mother had made of him just above it.
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he sees her necklace there, glinting in the dark, and shaky fingers reach out to take it, pulling it off for him to hold. it’s significantly nicer than anything on him, his old vest covered in chunks of soil and torn and faded. even the sleeves of his shirt are ripped, even though they were once elegant and of the highest quality white fabric.
he can feel salem through the necklace, as if a pulse of her soul is within it, her beating heart in his hand as he struggles out of the graveyard. her home isn’t far, through the forest and on the edge of a rural neighborhood. he knows because he can sense her, almost as if they’re connected. his mother always said he was the most psychic of the witches in their coven, but now it feels even more true, because his mind leads him directly to the woman he loves.
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he crosses her yard, reaching the front door. he looks like a phantom on her porch, his skin even paler than it was when he was alive, smeared in dirt and grime. his black hair is caked with it too, to the point he’s almost unrecognizable. whatever state he was resurrected to, he knows he isn’t fully human. everything feels muffled and his body is cold; not like he remembered having flesh to be.
he’s sure he would be burned at the stake if anyone were to see him, a warning his family had given him time and time again about their magic. but he opens salem’s door anyway, using supernatural strength to break the lock and open the front door. he can sense her in the living space, just a few feet away, but he isn’t prepared to meet her beautiful blue eyes when he does. if regulus had breath it would’ve been taken from him, his cold fingers tightening on the necklace as he holds it out. / @ghstdoll
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azsluttyslut · 5 months
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Born to die
Azriel x f!reader
TW: blood, violence, angst, fluff, near death experience.
Word count: 3883
Azriel POV
-Flashback-
Feet don't fail me now
Take me to the finish line
Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take
But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine
He was corner there was no fucking scape, but all he could think about was that least his mate was safe, his only comfort at the moment, lovely (Y/N), always so sweet and caring. “It had my absolute honor to had been with her for the last 60 years” he thought to himself still fighting for his life.
The tried to fight as best as he could, the trained for situations like this his whole life, so he pushed himself harder, Azriel's only goal to see his mate at leat one more time, she deserves to know how much he love, his absolute everything. So that’s what he did, and killed soldiers under Koschie command left and right, but there was no point, they were everywhere and he was losing power, strength and he was so fucking exhausted, this was a losing game. That was until he felt a surge of power, he have never experienced that much power, not even from his brother and High Lord.
It was astonishing how can that blast killed every soldier around him, he himself wasn’t sure how he survived, it was like they melted, all the gore of the soldiers that were surrounding him was everywhere it was a a goo of blood, skin and bones. When Azriel turn around to see who was the person that save him, he couldn’t believe his eyes, his beautiful mate was there, she has never told Azriel about her powers, he never pushed her too afraid to say the wrong thing, she just told him that it brought bad memories and it was her trauma to bear. But watching her use her powers just so she can save Azriel it made him love her even more and for a moment it brought him this sense of peace, it was as if the Mother told him that everything was going to be okay, that this moment even as short as it was, was just one of many to come.
But that sense of peace went as quickly as it came. Because the moment he took a step forward to reach her, in a blink of an eye there was a one of the enchanted soldiers behind here, and before he can voice that, a fucking sword with faesbane was passing through her stomach and the feeling of pain he feel through the bond brought him to his knees and he scream, and scream, and in pure act of willingness only fuel by his anger he killed all around his path until he got to her, screaming and cursing the Mother for being so cruel moments. And then everything went black.
It could be days, or months he didn’t care how much time it passed since he last was conscious, not after the moment he woke up and everything came crashing down. He tried to reach for the bond but the was nothing. Not even his shadows were with him. He didn’t know to much time passed until Rhys came to the healing chambers to check on Azriel.
“Hello Brother, I'm happy to see you finally awake” he just stared at him blankly,the numbness consumed every finer of his body, he knows Rhysand went through the same but at least Feyre came back, instead he watch his mate died, he felt the pain and sure as hell he still feels the void in his chest, his very soul were once was a gold thread, full of love, joy and fulfilment. And as if reading his mind that Azriel is almost sure he did, he says “ she’s not dead, brother”.
-End of the flashback-
Walking through the city streets
Is it by mistake or design?
I feel so alone on the Friday nights
Can you make it feel like home if I tell you you're mine?
It's like I told you, honey (louder)
It’s been a month since the day Azriel woke up, and you are still unconscious, Rhys told him his shadows haven’t left you sight, that brought him a bit of confort. The loneliness consumed his already tormented soul, he never felt this alone in his life, not even when he was a child in the care of those bastards.
Madja doesn’t know when you are going to wake up, but they are sure you will, maybe they are saying that just to make him feel better, he doesn’t know at this point, the void that is the bond wights on him everyday, they won the war but he just feels lost.
Rhys encourage him to seek help with one of Madja's mental health healers, they told him that maybe if he does things that you both used to do together would make him feel better, but walking around Velaris without you it makes him feel empty. Not even your house in the suburbs feels like home, that’s where he made you his, when he devoted himself to you, and the memories are too much, too unbearable without you.
•1 week later•
Don't make me sad, don't make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough
And the road gets tough, I don't know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime
The memories haunt Azriel like a plague everyday, all the laughs you share, the kisses, the all nighters, both of you getting drunk and high because you were bored. The memories playing in his head stopped the moment he felt the golden thread, all this time it’s has been a dim almost white, a white that made him feel hopeless, but right now it’s recovering color as if you were healing and recovering consciousness.
The tears blinded his eyes and the sob of relief that leaves his mouth, his entire body shook with the force of the sobs. He couldn’t stop the only thoughts running through his mind was “Y/N is waking up”, but even if that was true he could bring himself to go to see you. He couldn’t make himself be hopeful, and knew the only people that could help were his brothers.
Rhys! Rhys! RHYS!! BRING CASSIAN!
Rhysand appeared within seconds with Cassian in tow ready to attack, nothing would prepared them for the sight that greeted them. Azriel looked like a fallen angel, with tears streaming down his cheeks, face blotchy, red eyes, trembling body and slumped wings.
“Are you okay?” Cassian ask his voice frantic, searching for anything, they have never seen ghe shadowsinger like this, in all the years of friendship, he has never been the emotional friend, the only time Azriel cried beside when he was a kid was when Rhys came home form under the Mountain. He still remembers the grief of losing his brother and not been able to do anything to help. But that pain was minuscule compared to the thought and feeling of losing you.
“Az what’s happening? You are scaring us” Cassian voice make Azriel snaps out of his grieving thoughts, the tears and sobs don’t stop, he can bring himself to stop feeling.
“T-the bond” the sobs that leaves his mouth shooks his whole body, not even been able to form coherent sentence, the warlord and the high lord look at each other without knowing what to say, not knowing how to approach this topic.
“What about the bond” Rhys ask carefully, too carefully to the spymaster liking, but he doesn’t care, he feels the bond recovering it’s power, it makes his soul mend just a fraction.
“It- it’s not dim anymore” Both males sigh in relief “Rhys, I need you to check her, I-I can’t, I can’t get my hopes up, please” Rhysand gives Azriel a court nod and his gaze become distant, meaning that he’s asking Feyre. After about 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, Rhys has a small smile while looking at his broken brother. Stepping closer so he can comfort him while explaining what Feyre told him.
“She’s regaining consciousness, Madja said any of this days she would be awake again” After that the shadowsinger didn’t stopped crying of relief until he feel asleep. Cass and Rhys stayed the night, making sure that Adriel was okay.
-Flashback-
Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so (louder)
Choose your last words, this is the last time
'Cause you and I, we were born to die
The night before the last battle it was raining, while you and your mate were at your tent, cuddle up.
“Let’s take a walk” Y/N said with those (e/c) eyes that the spymaster love to get lost in. And he knew he could never say no to those eyes while they look at him as if he’s the only person on earth, Azriel always tends to agree to whatever you wants, this time it wasn’t any different. He loves the spontaneous things you do, sometimes some of the things you wants to do border insanity, but he loves every aspect of his mate. So without a thought he took your hand while leading you outside.
“Angel be careful it’s raining, I don’t want you to get sick” the shadowsinger said, he knows fae don’t get sick easily but he always worry about you. Your only response was only a snort of laughter, and oh boy! how he love that sound.
“Az, you know as well as I do, fae don’t get sick easily, why don’t we dance in the rain, and just listen to the pattern of the rain” Your eyes glowed with joy as you looked at him expectantly, he didn’t hesitate in taking your hand and dragging you until we are chest to stomach, while you start to sway with his hands on your hips and yours around his neck, with your head laid on Azriel chest.
The shadowsinger couldn’t stop watching you, admiring more likely, he didn’t take his eyes away even while they were swaying to the sound of the rain and the latter soaking your clothes, but after some time he couldn’t contain himself and kissed you as hard as he could pouring all his love and devotion he feel for you, sending it through the bond and through the kiss. After that you two went back to the tent, drop the wet clothes and he showed you how much he loves you throughout the night.
But in the morning the bubble you’d encompass yourselves in exploded, because of how Rhys made the strategy for the last battle.
“Azriel I don’t care if Rhysand gave you the order or not, you will not be standing in the fucking front lines, I swear to the mother you cross that tent and…” Yelling got you nowhere with Adriel Y/N knew that as much, but even then he could still see the fear you held of the idea of him on the front. But his anger overpowered his common sense.
“Or what? Are you going to do what? (Y/N) this is for the best, I know how to protect myself, I know my limit. This is for our future, so yes I’m going to cross that tent because this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” and without another word he left the tent, your tent were his mate was left crying.
But to Azriel's saddened heart in middle of the battle he realized you never gave each other the kiss before battle, it was a non spoken deal between the two, it was their “I’ll be waiting for you to come back, please come back”. But it was too late, and the words exchange between the two in those last moments left a bitter taste on Azriel's tongue.
-End of the flashback-
Y/N POV
•1 week later•
Lost but now I am found
I can see that once I was blind
I was so confused as a little child
Tryna take what I could get
Scared that I couldn't find
All the answers, honey (louder)
My body feels like it’s on fire, I can’t even open my eyes, every nerve, every muscle in my body hurts, is this the after life? I thought that when you died you don’t feel any pain. But oh gods! I feel like I was crushed under a fucking mountain. Cauldron fucking boil me alive! The only thing that I feel apart from the agonizing pain in my body are the scattering caresses of what I think are Az's shadows.
A groan leaves my lips, as I tried my hardest to open my eyes to the blinding light that comes from the window, as if sensing my discomfort almost all of the shadows surround the room in darkness, while the others hurried vanished out of the room to probably alert Azriel and the inner circle. I don’t remember what happened, my last memory was the night before battle that me and mate dance in the rain, followed up to have the most tender and loving sex with Az. I feel so lost, with so many questions.
The sound of hurried footsteps getting closer bring me back from my scattering thoughts, a second later my beautiful mate appears in all his glory, but he looks terrible, not in a bad way, Azriel is the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen, he couldn’t be ugly even if he tried. But there are circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t sleep in forever, his cheekbones are more prominent and he looks like he lost some pound and muscle. What the hel happened?
He looks frantic throughout the room as if some broke in, but that is until his gaze land on me. He lunges himself at me while breaking down with sobs. I tried to move to comfort him but my body is not cooperating. Not even my voice is functioning. Azriel's sobs break my heart and I think he feels it because he looks and me with tears in his eyes.
“You are alive” he looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in years “you are okay” he repeats the same thing as mantra, as if trying to convince himself this is real. I tried to speak but no words come out. He sense this and rushes to bring you a glass of water, you gulp it down and the refills it again and again until your throat doesn’t feel like sand anymore.
“Hello my love” my voice comes out scratchy like I haven’t used it in a long time, at the pet name my mate's eyes fill with tears again. “what happened?”
“I promise, I’m going to tell you anything you want to know, baby, but I need to alert Madja you are awake, okay?” He caress my hair, my face touching everything part of me that he can, I’m able to give him a small nod, while his eyes become distant probably telling Rhys to call Madja.
Madja came ask questions while checking my body, always questioning where it hurts, what’s the last I remember, and told me not ask what happened, that my memories will be back in time, and asking would affect the currency of them, after a while she gave strict orders to all my family that I’m to stay in bed for at least a week more, that I need to regain my energy and my weight, and not to exhaust myself, while also giving Azriel some viles that help with the pain.
The week I was in bed all my family make sure I was taken care of, even Amren took care of me, that was weird, I’ve never seen her be so soft with someone, and that includes Varian, Mor and Feyre were as usual always fussing about anything I needed, Cassian and Rhys always made sure I was comfy enough and bringing me gifts and food, Cassian brought me a lot of books, courtesy of Ness, and sometimes Nests came to check up on me. And Azriel well he never left my side and when he did he made sure to leave his shadows with me even if he was to leave one minute.
Elain is another story altogether, since she was made, she took a liking to my mate, I don’t blame her Az is the sweetest most precious soul that I’ve ever known and because of that he indulged her, not intentionally, he just wanted to help her getting used to her new life, which gave her the impression that he was interested, and when she tried to make a move and he rejected her, she almost attacked me, blaming me that I stole Azriel for her. And while her sisters were on my side, they couldn’t let her sister's side either. Since then my relationship with the Acheron middle sister is non existent.
Don't make me sad, don't make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough
And the road gets tough, I don't know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime
After I was given the good to go by Madja, Az help me with training, giving me small exercises to regain strength, while always making sure I was okay and drinking enough water. I tried to talk to him about what happened with me, but every time I tried it was fruitless, is like all his walls shot up and he becomes a shell of himself, he has nightmares most nights and when he wakes up he makes sure I’m breathing and then proceeds to hold me tight trough out the night.
Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so (louder)
Choose your last words, this is the last time
'Cause you and I, we were born to die
As Madja said the memories will be recovered with time, they did and I remember everything, the night before battle, the fight before battle and the moment I saved my mate for being killed to me being stabbed by a faesbane coverd sword. And even though I remember all the traumatic events, one thing is echoing in my head. Azriel last words before battle “…this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” it’s like he thinks himself as a weapon, he always did, but I thought we were past that.
“Love, are you okay?” Azriel’s melodic voice breaks through my thoughts, making me snap my eyes to his hazel almost gold eyes. His scarred fingers wipe gently my under eyes, I didn’t know I was crying until that moment.
“Az, do you still see yourself as a weapon?” I look straight into his eyes, but when he adverts his eyes, I got my answer. “You know, we talked about that for years, I thought that you didn’t see yourself that way anymore” I say gently.
“I know, trust me I know, but when the war began and everything happened, my only thought was that I have to keep you safe, and if that means be a weapon, t-then so be it” his voice breaks at the end “when you saved me I couldn’t be more proud to call you my mate, I was so ready to run to you, and hold you, but the moment that that soldiers s-stabbed you, I-I lost it, I didn’t even realized more soldiers were approaching me, but it was like my brain knew and I killed them all just to get to you” A few tears scape his eyes, with shaky fingers I cup his face and wipe them, his eyes look up at mine, and all the pain I see there breaks my heart.
A sob scapes my lips when I tried to talk, taking a deep breath I tried again “We are stronger than this baby, we are going to go through this together as we always do, and if I have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives that you are not a weapon, that you are worthy, and wroth living for, I will, always, but you have to promise me that you will try, and never give up on you, on us” I tell him, resting me forehead against his, while looking deep in his eyes. His chin quivers with, and tears wet his eyelashes. Azriel gives me a nod while chanting “I promise” over and over again.
We were born to die
(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)
We were born to die
A pain prickles my neck making me hiss and my mate's heveas a hiss of his own while touching his neck, my eyes look at his neck looking at a tattoo, a skull with wings, “The Angel of Death”, that’s what that means, what they used to called in the Court of Nightmares. My power, death in every shape or form. My fingers trace the portrayal of our promise mark on our skins. His eyes adverts to my neck, looking at what I know is my tattoo, it’s a skull with truth-teller he says, while shaky breaths and broken voice.
“Please don’t leave me again” he says after a few moments “I wouldn’t know how to bear with that, the past month and a half, it was hel” his eyes plead with me.
Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane
I gave him a reassuring smile, crashing my lips with his, in a silent promise that everything is going to be fine, that we are going to do this together. Whatever long it takes. That I have him as he has me. That our love is unconditional and strong. That we will have again moments like the one we had before battle. And specially that we will be together to whatever life throws at us. And I’m that moment draped in each others arms, everything feels right.
So, don't make me sad, don't make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough
And the road gets tough, I don't know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime
Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so (louder)
Choose your last words, this is the last time
'Cause you and I, we were born to die
We were born to die
(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)
We were born to die
Why? (Got that?)
Who, me? (Louder)
(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)
Why? (Got that?)
Fin.
A/N: well as I said I’m new to this, I hope you enjoy, I accept constructive criticism and feedback. Thank you and sorry for any grammar errors 🫶🏼
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wasted-women · 4 months
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ROUND 1C, MATCH 1 OUT OF 8!
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Cause of Death & Propaganda Under the Cut:
Allison Argent
Cause of Death: Stabbed by a demon
Propaganda:
She's so cool! She fights with a bow and arrow, she has complicated feelings on her werewolf boyfriend and is allowed to work through that, she's best friends with another girl who's also a banshee (should've dated her) and one of her first scenes is her hitting a dog with her car and bringing it to a vet(she's a mess! She's caring)
she was the protag's girlfriend and only died because the actress had to leave the show. it left a hole in the show that they never really managed to fill, and she is only really brought up to say "let's do this, it's what allison would tell us to do" or "I wish she was here." her father stays on the show and helps them in her memory but he and the protag suffer and learn from it the way most male characters in this trope do. she is brought back to life in the movie but it was mostly an excuse to get the cast back together again and took place years after the show finished. I don't really feel that it counts since she died in season 3 and the show had 6 seasons.
Jenny Calendar
Cause of Death: Neck snapped
Propaganda:
Jenny is so beloved to me. She was sent to Sunnydale, California to watch over the vampire that killed her family (Angel), told that he was supposed to suffer for all eternity, but after he saved her life + after she spent some time with him and the people who cared about him, she realized that she'd changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with continuing a mission of vengeance -- especially since Angel's girlfriend Buffy was also the mentee/surrogate daughter of Jenny's boyfriend Giles! Messy! Despite this, when Angel lost his soul and it came out that Jenny had been sent there to watch him, Jenny was immediately blamed, even though she'd had no idea that Angel would turn evil and TOLD everyone as much! She decided to try and find a way to resurrect old magic and give Angel his soul back, and Angel killed her in retaliation. Parts of the fandom talk about Jenny's death like it was necessary/a good thing/a good writing choice, but I don't think it was. Jenny's death is talked about by the showrunners as "proving that anyone could die," and her dead body was placed in Giles's bed, surrounded by red roses, subsequently inspiring him to try to go on a suicide mission and kill Angel. When the kids are looking at a drawing of her dead body, one of them says, "Wow. Poor Giles." Her death is very clearly engineered to raise the stakes by emphasizing how sad it is for Giles to lose her, and before her death, nearly all of her scenes centered around being Giles's girlfriend/love interest. She was never given a chance to develop as a character, and the only backstory they gave her was designed to push her towards death.
Amber Volakis
Cause of Death: Organ failure after bus crash
Propaganda:
This show likes to introduce new casts of supporting characters and cycle through old ones (some of them leave, some of them stay in reduced roles, and sometimes they come back into a main role later, but sometimes they don't) and I do like that. Amber was probably one of the best ones introduced in the row of new characters in Season 4 and even stayed interesting after being fired. I wasn't a big fan of her dating Wilson but it wasn't the worst thing. And then she was killed off. And her death basically only existed to make Wilson sad, or House sad and "crazy", and just. I don't know. It sucked that her death even happened when she had so much more potential as a living character!
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pjoxreader · 11 months
Note
Hi!! It’s so good to see you back and in a better space :)
May I request Piper/Frank/Reyna(Separately) with a reader who comes back from the dead? Like they sacrificed themselves, but ended up getting revived through some sort of method? (Maybe they escaped the underworld, or a god some how owed them a favor, whatever you think would be fun to do!)
Reader Comes Back From the Dead 
TW: Grief, Death
((Thank you! I'm happy to be back you guys are always so kind! 🥹))
Piper Mclean
-Piper’s world had turned upside down. There were so many things she wanted to do with you, to say to you. And now she’d never get that chance. 
-She had held you in her arms when you died, she watched the life drain from your face while she could do nothing but hopelessly wail in agony. Now here she was at your funeral watching your burial shroud go up in flames.
-She couldn’t find it in herself to cry, she had spent the last night sobbing the entire night and she didn’t have any more tears left to cry right now. She could make out people giving her their sympathies, but she couldn’t make out any words. She could only watch as the flames burned. 
-She sits down by the fire wanting to stay by your side until the last minute. Leo had come over once the sun set and put a blanket over her shoulders to ensure she wouldn’t catch a cold. As she watched the last cinders of the bonfire go up to the night sky she felt the tears stream down her face once more. “Goodbye.” she chokes out softly.
-”you’re counting me out this early?” your familiar voice makes her turn quickly almost hurting her neck from how fast she turned. She was half convinced she had finally snapped and gone insane when she saw you standing there with that same dorky smile. She felt so many emotions rush through her relief, joy, then quickly anger.
-She storms over to you letting the blanket drop to the ground as you put your hands up in surrender seeing the anger burning in her eyes. “Woah, woah, hades owed me a favor so he decided to break me out and well I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone but-” you rant out quickly in panic but Piper grabbed you by the front of the shirt, yanking you down into a tender but emotional kiss. 
Frank Zhang
-Frank had never felt so… Numb. He was used to the adrenaline rush of fighting for his life against monsters, the high and lows of a quest but this? This is something he never wanted to face. Everyone knew someone in the group was going to die in this last battle. Frank… Frank had even accepted it might be him.
-But losing you? He wished it was him instead of you. The pain was agonizing, like his heart was stuck in a vice that squeezed harder and harder any time he thought of your smile, your laugh, the memories you shared together…
-Yet here he was standing in front of your godly parents' temple watching as they performed your burial ceremony. He could only watch in silence amongst his ranks as your cohort stood guard for you one last time. He could feel the pitiful looks people were giving him but he didn’t care.
-He already knew he looked awful, dark lines under his eyes from lack of sleep and crying would do that to someone. You were a hero, someone who sacrificed their own life to save not only the world but your camp. There was nothing more honorable than that.
-Frank could only watch as they brought up your last meal to be burned alongside you. Your favorite food. “Hey, don't waste that good food!” Frank could feel his blood turn to ice. Part of him believed he had just imagined it, that his mind was tricking him due to his grief. But seeing the others look up in surprise Frank worked up the courage to do the same. 
-There you were, fighting with your godly parent over a plate of food. Frank couldn’t help the choked sob that crept up in his throat. He was a Centurion, he was supposed to set an example. But his feet moved on their own as he broke rank and ran up to you grabbing you in a tight hug that you swear broke a few ribs. You can’t help but laugh at that trying to pat his back as best as you could. “I missed you too big guy.” you whisper softly and genuinely to him. 
Reyna Ramírez-Arellano
-Nothing was the same. After you had died, camp had never felt so empty. No matter how much time passed it never felt like ‘home’. She knew why, it was because you were gone. It was hard to believe it had been a month already… You had fallen to the underworld with the enemy monsters in order to ensure they didn’t reach camp and just like that you were gone.
-The camp was quiet, things had gone back to normal as if nothing happened, but there was a part of Reyna that hated that. She needed something to do, something to distract herself from the ghosts of her past, the memories of you.
-But no matter where she went she saw your smiling face. Of course she’d never tell anyone about these feelings. She was a leader, someone who others depended on. She couldn't show weakness. Not to anyone but you. And now you were gone for good...
-She had been working on leading some training drills when she heard the commotion. People chattering excitedly and running towards the gate. She hesitates but does follow after the group, mostly to discipline whoever was causing such a distraction amongst the camp. But that’s when she saw you.
-You were scratched up, had an arm pulled in a makeshift sling and dirt and grime all over your body. But Reyna didn’t care about that. The only thing that mattered to her was that you were alive. “I had to search all of the underworld for that godly gift Apollo gave me, sure enough it brought me right home!”
-The crowd split when they saw Reyna standing there, the silence deafening as she walked up to you. With a beat of hesitation she carefully pulls you into a hug, ensuring that she doesn't hurt your already broken arm. “Welcome home...” she says softly. “But you’re stuck on the night watch once you heal for that stunt.” you can’t help but burst out laughing as you hug her back. “Alright I suppose that’s fair…”
~Masterlist & Rules~
Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕
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kanansdume · 7 months
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So, again, with the caveat that I am in no way saying Hayden Christensen doesn't deserve his time in the sun right now after all the shit he was put through, but I find it a tad frustrating that we got an ENTIRE EPISODE with Ahsoka meeting Anakin again in a Force vision/flashbacks in order to explore her feelings about him and the impact her relationship with him had on them both, but we've had one singular throw-away line mention of Kanan.
And I GET that it's the Ahsoka show, it's named after Ahsoka, not Sabine or Hera. But it's clearly also THEIR show, Sabine is the one going through the most obvious character journey on this show, to be perfectly honest, and we're getting almost as much of Hera as we are Ahsoka or Sabine.
Ahsoka spent 1.5-2 years with Anakin, AT MOST, before she left him and then spent like 15 years believing he was dead, 1 year trying to convince herself he was dead before he tried to kill her, and then another 7-8 years on her own before he ACTUALLY dies, and like 8ish years since then. Ahsoka spends SO MUCH of her life without Anakin around at all and building relationships with so many people OTHER than Anakin that her time with him feels so minuscule in comparison and yet it's all anybody ever looks at or wants to talk about.
Hera meets Kanan when she's a teenager, just off of Ryloth, and probably spends a good decade or more with him as partners in business and in life before he dies and she becomes the single mother of his child. Kanan is arguably the singular most important relationship in Hera's life for the majority the time that we've spent with her character and there is a very visible continued reminder of his impact on her life that will probably stay with her for even longer. And yet she hasn't even mentioned him ONCE. There's been no discussion of him with her son, no stories shared, no memories brought up. Even when Jacen is using the Force, neither of them brings up Kanan at all.
Sabine meets Kanan some time before Rebels starts, probably about a year or two prior, and so would've known him for about 5-6 years total before he dies. In that time, he becomes something of a father figure and mentor to her and helps train her every so often. It's KANAN who teaches her about mercy and patience, and it's KANAN who trains her in how to wield a blade, specifically a lightsaber. And yet, when we see Sabine training with a saber again on the Ahsoka show, Ahsoka attributes Sabine's skill to the fact that she's a Mandalorian rather than to her training with Kanan. Sabine is completely fucked up about the off-screen loss of her family and the desire to find Ezra, but never once is the loss of Kanan ever even mentioned. His impact on her life is nowhere to be found on this show. If you hadn't seen Rebels, you'd be forgiven for thinking Sabine had never even met Kanan in her life.
Ahsoka brings up Anakin several times before episode 5 and her ENTIRE ARC is about his impact on her life, but he's honestly such a small part of it. And in contrast, we've heard one person so far mention Kanan at all and it's Huyang, a character who never shared a scene with Kanan once, and Kanan's impact upon Hera, Sabine, and even Jacen is missing entirely. They never talk about missing him or how his loss continues to affect them and their relationships with other people. There's no mention of Sabine having trouble working with Ahsoka because she keeps comparing Ahsoka's methods to Kanan's or something like that. There's no flashbacks for Sabine or Hera about Kanan where we get to see Kanan in live action, too. Kanan is just left behind as completely unimportant to this plot or its characters, even though he was one of the MAIN CHARACTERS of Rebels.
And now that Ezra's back, Kanan's literal Padawan, hopefully we'll hear Kanan get mentioned at least once more, but I'm not holding my breath or counting on it at this point.
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Text
undead ~ eddie munson;stranger things
word count: 2750
request?: no
description: she thought her boyfriend was dead, but she forgot she lived in hawkins where nothing is what it seems
pairing: vampire!eddie munson x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of death
masterlist (one, two)
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It had been a week since the death of your boyfriend, Eddie. You could still see his face as you cradled his head in your arms. You could still hear his voice telling you that it was his year, it was both of your year. You could still hear him telling you he loved you one last time before watching the last trace of life leaving his eyes.
You wished you hadn’t let Steve drag you out of the Upside Down - literally. You were so inconsolable that Dustin had to get your group of friends to help him convince you to leave. When you fought off everyone else’s attempts, holding Eddie’s lifeless body close to you and screaming for everyone to leave you alone, Steve grabbed you and lifted you from the ground. He ignored your kicking and screaming as he brought you to the gateway between Hawkins and the Upside Down, forcing you through it. For the last seven days, you wished they had just left you there with Eddie. Sure, you probably would’ve died there, too, but at least you would’ve died with him.
You couldn’t tell your parents why you were so upset. They hadn’t even known you were dating Eddie, a fact you were going to keep a secret for the rest of your life given Eddie’s false status as a murderer. And they certainly weren’t going to believe you if you told them the truth about Eddie, Vecna, and the Upside Down. You lied to them for a whole week, saying you felt sick so they’d let you stay home from school and leave you alone in your room, and you spent all of those days crying till you felt like you were going to shrivel up into a prune due to dehydration.
Everyone else seemed to move on from Eddie’s death faster than you did. Robin and Steve went back to work and their own personal lives, the D&D kids (the former Hellfire Club, a name they retired in Eddie’s honor) were back to their games, the couples were all back to their own relationships. It was just you, laying in your bed day in and day out, holding on to the memories of Eddie that you had.
You were asleep one night when you heard a tapping at your window. At first, you thought you were dreaming and ignored it. Then it came again, this time a little louder. You opened your tired eyes and looked at the clock on your nightstand. The bright red letters read 3am. You were confused; who the hell was knocking at your window at 3 in the morning?
You groaned as the sound came again, and you finally rolled out of bed to see who was there.
“I swear, if this is Steve or Robin, I’m going to fucking ki - ”
Your sentence was cut off by a shriek as you opened the curtains and saw who was perched on the tree branch by your window.
Eddie.
His face was almost white as snow, and his eyes were glowing an angry red color, but it was undoubtably the face of your boyfriend.
But no, that wasn’t possible. Eddie was dead. You had held him while he died, you felt the life leave his body. You had all left him in the Upside Down. There’s no way he could be here now, outside of your window, looking unmistakably not dead.
You grabbed the nearest weapon you could find - which, ironically, was Eddie’s guitar that you had managed to take with you before Steve forced you back to Hawkins - and opened the window. He was smiling at you at first, until you swung the guitar at him.
“Whoa, baby!” he exclaimed, falling backwards on the branch. He lost his balance, but managed to regain it enough so he wouldn’t fall.
“Get the fuck away from me!” you hissed through clenched teeth, swinging the guitar again.
“Baby, it’s me! It’s Eddie!”
“Eddie’s dead! I watched him die! I don’t know who or what you are, but you better leave me the fuck alone before I make sure you’re dead, too!”
You swung again, but this time Eddie was quick enough to grab hold of the guitar. He managed to pull it from your hands with little effort and held it protectively to him.
“Of all the things you could’ve attacked me with, why did you have to choose the guitar?” he asked. “Even if I wasn’t actually me, it hurts me to know that you’d so willingly sacrifice my baby.”
“How do I know it’s actually you?” you asked. “How do I know you’re not some creature from the Upside Down, or one of Vecna’s little henchman or whatever sent here to drag all of us back to our deaths?”
“I guess asking you to trust me isn’t enough,” he mumbled. “Okay, how about this: you lost your virginity to me when you were in summer camp our first year together. I snuck onto the camp grounds and into your tent, pretended to be all Sleepaway Camp to freak you out cause I had taken you to see it right before you went away to camp, and then we had sex for the first time right in your sleeping bag. You had the tent to yourself, so no one came to disturb us, and you made me promise not to tell a single soul that that’s how it happened because you didn’t want us getting in trouble. You never told anyone, either. Not even Robin or Nancy. You used to tell me all the time it was the best night of your life.”
You could feel moisture growing in your eyes as Eddie spoke. There wasn’t many things that he could’ve said to get you to believe it was really him (you weren’t really an adventurous person with a lot of secrets you kept from people), but that was certainly the one thing he could’ve said. You looked into his bright red eyes and could still see your Eddie looking back at you through them.
You were about to say something, but you heard footsteps coming down the hall. You realized you must’ve woken your parents and quickly lunged for the lock on your door. Just in time, too, as the moment it turned you could hear your parents trying to get into your room.
“(Y/N)?” came your father’s voice. “We heard a yell, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” you responded. “I just had a nightmare. I’m sorry I woke you!”
“Do you want us to come in, sweetheart?” asked your mother.
“No!” you answered quickly, but then cleared your throat and tried again. “I mean no, that’s okay guys. Really, I’m fine. Please, go back to bed.”
You waited until you heard their footsteps retreating down the hall and their bedroom door close before you turned back to Eddie. You stifled a yelp as you realized how close he had gotten to you. He chuckled at the surprised look on your face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I should’ve done this at a better time, but I couldn’t wait any longer to see you again.”
“I have so many questions,” you said. “But I also don’t want to ask any of them because I just want to hold you again.”
He smiled and reached his hands out for you. He placed them on your waist and even though the material of your pajama shirt that was separating your skin from his, you could feel how cold his hands were. You didn’t pay much mind to it, though, as you quickly leaned forward to kiss him.
He was cold all over, but his lips still felt as soft as they had before. It was still a familiar kiss, one that you had shared so many times before. You leaned in so close to him that your bodies were pressed firmly against one another. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you from the floor, wrapping your legs around his waist so he could carry you to the bed.
He laid you down gently, breaking the kiss so he could gaze down at you. There was longing all over his face, and you felt the same. You just wanted to hold him and never let him leave. You still felt so tired, but you were afraid to close your eyes in case all of this was a dream and he wasn’t really there.
You ran your fingers over his cold, pale cheek. “Why do you look so different? Did something happen in the Upside Down? Besides, you know, the whole death thing?”
“I guess you could say that.”
He rolled onto the bed next to you and pulled you close to his side. When you rested your head on his chest, you realized there was no sound in there; no heartbeat. You gasped softly at the revelation.
“I bet that just brought on many more questions,” he said. You looked up at him and nodded. “Okay, let’s start with the fact that I was actually dead. Well...am actually dead. I’m not exactly...alive right now.”
“So you’re like a zombie?” you asked.
“Try a different kind of fantasy creature.” When you didn’t respond, he filled in the blanks for you, “A vampire.”
You gasped again. “Like...like Dracula?”
“Yeah, kind of. I haven’t been one for very long. I only woke up a few days ago and I was totally lost. I couldn’t remember anything before I died, not even you or the Hellfire Club. All I knew was that I was incredibly thirst, but not for water.”
You shuttered as you put the pieces together of what Eddie meant. If he woke up a vampire, that meant he was craving blood.
“How did you fix that?” you asked.
“Believe it or not, there’s quite a few things in the Upside Down that have blood for me to feed on. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to satisfy the craving. Once I was no longer hungry, everything started to come back. I was afraid at first that you had also gotten hurt down there, but I couldn’t find anything to tell me that any of you guys were still stuck there, so then I made my way to the gate to come back to Hawkins. The first thing I wanted to do was to look for you, but I felt so exhausted suddenly that I went to my old hiding spot and slept for hours. When I woke up, it was dark and late, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to find you and make sure you were okay, and to tell you that I was okay.”
You could barley grasp everything he was telling you. You had only learned about the existence of otherworldly creatures a few years prior after your friend Barb went missing and Nancy drunkenly admitted to you that she had been killed by some demon thing in a Hell like version of Hawkins. Every year since it felt like you were getting new information thrown at you with very little time to fully fathom it all.
“So,” you started after some silence, “is all the stuff about vampires true? Like the garlic and not showing up in mirrors and not being able to be in the sunlight?”
“Well, I haven’t tested garlic or mirrors yet, but I did step out into the sunlight when I returned to Hawkins and I felt just fine. I don’t know the extent of everything just yet, I’m sure it’ll be a learning process.”
“So if I go to sleep now, I won’t have to wait till tomorrow night to see you again?”
Eddie smiled down at you and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. It is awfully late and you look really tired. I won’t burst into flames or lock myself in a coffin while you’re asleep.”
You chuckled and settled yourself into his embrace. For the first time in a week, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
~~~~~~
When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself alone in your bed. Panic started to sink in. You were so sure you had dreamt the night before and that Eddie hadn’t come back as an undead vampire creature. You sat up in your bed and looked around your room, feeling a lump forming in your throat. It wasn’t until you saw your open bedroom door, which you remembered being closed and locked, that you started to calm down a little.
You got out of bed and made your way down the hall to your parents bedroom. The door was open, showing that their bed was perfectly made and their sleep clothes from the night before were thrown on top of the laundry basket, meaning they had gotten up early and gone to work while you were still asleep. That eased your panic a little more, but there was only one thing that would completely sooth you.
You felt your heart jump to your throat as you entered the kitchen and found a familiar head of messy brown hair sat up on the counter, reading the morning newspaper as he sipped something from a coffee mug.
“Please don’t tell me that’s blood,” you said.
Eddie looked up at you and a smile crossed his face. “No, it’s coffee. Turns out I can still eat and drink normal human things, I probably just need blood to actually survive.”
You crossed the kitchen to stand between his open legs. He leaned down to meet your lips with his, kissing you gently, as if afraid that a simple kiss could break you. Although, you had no idea how strong he really was now with his new undead status. Maybe he could break you with just a kiss. The thought both worried and excited you for whenever you tried to have sex with him again.
“I was just seeing what the latest news has been since I’ve been dead,” he said when he pulled away. He turned the article he was reading towards you so you could look at it. “I’m a cult leader now, huh?”
You sighed and shut the newspaper, throwing it onto the counter next to him. “They keep writing that bullshit even after your Uncle Wayne told threatened them.”
Eddie winced at the name. “Does Uncle Wayne...know?”
You shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t really seen many people since you...died.”
“Not even Robin, Nancy, or Steve?”
“Robin and Nancy check in on me every now and then, but I haven’t left the house in a week. I just didn’t feel ready to go back to normal life like nothing ever happened. It was a lot harder for me than it was for everyone else.”
He cupped your face in his ice cold hands. You were starting to get used to his cold body temperature. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
You chuckled. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t exactly ask to be killed.”
“I know, but I hate thinking about how much you were hurting while I was gone. I didn’t expect for you to get over it all right away or anything, but I thought you might surround yourself with your friends to help you through it.”
“It was too hard to be around everyone. Every time Robin or Nancy would call, I would just think about you and everything that the four of us, and Steve, have been through. Thinking about going to school just made me think about how I wouldn’t see you in the hallways or in class or anything. Everything reminded me of you. I wasn’t ready to let go.”
“You don’t have to let go now.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m not going anywhere now. As long as you want me around, I’ll be here.”
You smiled up at him. “What if I want you around forever?”
His smile reminded you of a child being told they were going to Disneyland. “Well, I can quite literally be around forever now.”
When he kissed you again, you never wanted it to end. You wanted this forever; you wanted Eddie forever.
But you soon pulled away as something crossed your mind. “We should go tell the others.”
Eddie nodded. “We will. I just want some time with you, first.”
And how could you argue with that?
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outofangband · 4 days
Text
Updated rambly post about Morwen after her second encounter with Glaurung! I’m still working on my thoughts about this, I hope it’s ok!
I made some posts awhile back (here was the first)wondering about what exactly happened to Morwen between the encounter with Glaurung and her meeting Húrin again in Brethil. I’ve been thinking about it to the extent that I even have a tag for it now; and they saw her no more
Perhaps Morwen is hidden from Mablung either due to the lingering power of Glaurung or due to the curse, regardless of whether she was intentionally avoiding him. This is probably the reading Tolkien intended in my opinion.
Perhaps Morwen ended up imprisoned or trapped in Brethil similar to Húrin in the Wanderings. nothing stated or implied in canon leads this way and one would assume that there would be if the reader was meant to infer something like this. Purely in terms of headcanon or speculation though, I’d always thought that Avranc’s utter rage towards Húrin’s accusations to the point where he wants Húrin dead made more sense if they were either true or Avranc thought they were true.
Maybe Glaurung is right and Mablung is just really bad at his job. Morwen was nearby the whole time but either successfully hid from him or he just missed her (this is a joke to be clear)
but I feel like I left out another possibility
I actually am playing with the idea that in The Children of Húrin, like in earlier drafts, Morwen attempts to confront Glaurung to protect Niënor and was then thrown aside by the dragon, temporarily falling unconscious under the spell and waking up with little memory afterwards. She has the memory of experience within her body. She remembers how to survive in the wilds. She does not remember who taught her. She feels acutely the loss of Niënor and the worry for Túrin that brought her to these strange lands. She cannot remember her children’s names. Her own name forms upon her lips at times. She does not feel it as hers.
She travels through the ruins of what was the kingdom of Nargothrond. Birds have fled the dragon mist and flowers have withered in the spring. She remembers to eat rarely. She knows enough to be troubled by this.
Morwen regains her memories slowly. The faces of her children, of Húrin, Rían, Aerin, even her parents, return to her gradually, first as vague as shadows but then with the knowledge and certainty of their names.
She remembers the shadow of Glaurung above her as a child before she remembers that day she was thrown from her horse and everything was lost.
There are things that stay lost. She will never acknowledge them until she dies. They cut at her in the night. Her pride is unshaken. Her certainty is nigh shattered
Perhaps it is only when she sees the names on the stone in Brethil, that she fully remembers. Perhaps she remembers months before. She is barely aware of the passing of the seasons. There are moments where she is barely aware of herself. She wakes in places she does not remember falling asleep in, to injuries she has no memory of receiving
…but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lómin.
(That line also gets me so much. It just feels like she was erased entirely from the memories and places where she had been but at the same time her loss and vanishing is still felt acutely! I know that seems contradictory and I apologize if it’s confusing but that line just makes me feel both those axises of loss at the same time)
A grey wraith upon a mad steed…
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petertingle-yipyip · 1 year
Text
MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK
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Season Three - Aimed To Kill
tags: @mayasaurus--rex @americaarse @dusstory @johnmurphys-sass @ironprincessstranger @astrobees @woowwwee // four // six // masterlist
Pairing: Matt x Reader
Word Count: 10,424
Summary: Pages turn and bridges burn as Ex realizes the extent that she’s behind. When sentiment thrives amongst the chaos between her and her first love, question becomes whether they can fix their hearts with the lips that have left scars on each other.
Ray sent you home after your conversation. A team remained for cleanup and analysis, and you offered to help, but you were told to go home. He said for you to take care of yourself, write down whatever important things you didn’t want to forget, and he’d see you in the office for a debrief tomorrow. You tried to wait for Karen or Foggy, but Ray said if you wouldn’t leave on your own, he would walk to your car himself.
You thought about going home, about sleeping off the whole ordeal. But your mindless driving took you to the church. Once you pulled up, your feet guided you through the rod-iron gate out front without hesitation and through the heavy wood doors with your chest growingly inexplicably tighter with each step.
Your feet seemed to know where to go more than your head because before you knew it, you were just around the corner from the gate. You took a deep breath and built the pressure in your chest to a pinnacle. You let it out as a controlled exhale and felt the thrumming of your pulse slow to its usual pace.
“You’re missing the point! He didn’t just find someone to wear my suit.” Matt argued so you stayed around the corner to listen in, hiding your presence behind a bubble of indifference. “He’s as fast and skilled as I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t take him. He found someone to kill me.”
“Matthew.” Sister Maggie tried.
“I was stupid enough to think that I had Fisk cornered. He knew I’d find the witness and I just brought the sheep to the slaughter.”
You shook your head slightly, feeling that slap of guilt.
“Jasper Evans is dead. He’s dead and he leaves a son behind and that’s on me! … I was so sure that I was finally out in front of this bastard. God, and I was stupid enough to put Y/N in the middle of it.”
You stepped inside quietly and stood beside Maggie. Her head snapped towards your sudden presence, but she offered a small, thankful smile. You gently took the cloth from her hand and moved towards Matt. He jerked away from your touch but you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. He huffed in annoyance and you quietly rolled your eyes.
“Fisk knew I thought that I had him. He was waiting for me.” Matt’s rant continued, though his anger was now wavering between that heat - a heat that so familiarly blasted from him - and suffocating guilt. “Of course he was waiting for me.”
You worked calmly and quietly as you began undoing the buttons of his shirt. 
“Foggy and Karen could’ve been killed.” Matt tried.
Your movements paused at the last button when you realized he was right. But your head cocked in thought when you also realized that they weren’t killed. He hardly touched them… Why kill everyone else but them? “And there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Nothing.”
“You’re losing blood. Let me stitch you up!” Maggie insisted and Matt’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly having assumed the person touching him was the familiar nun.
“I listened to you. I listened to you and they almost died.” Matt continued, though one bloodied hand reached forward and found your face.
You couldn’t hide the smile as his thumb traced your features. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, his mouth threatening to reveal a smile. That prior tightness in your chest dissipated almost instantly when you saw that you still meant something special to him. While their conversation continued, you were thinking of an old memory from college.
————————————
“Does that even work?” You giggled and dropped on the bed beside Matt. He turned his head in your direction with a content smile. “They do it on TV but is it actually a thing?”
“It helps, yeah.” He nodded. “You don’t have to though.”
“Do you want to?”
He gave a small shrug. “Foggy’s pretty much told me what you look like. The guy couldn’t stop talking about you for a week after we first met. It was always ‘how did we not know she was in our classes?’ and ‘how is a girl like that trynna be a lawyer?’.”
“Huh.” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m gonna kick Franklin’s ass.” You laughed before sitting up fully and patting Matt’s chest. “C’mon, get up.”
“Why?” He asked, though he did as he was told.
“So we can do this.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
You could tell he was trying to keep down his smile as his hand hovered near your cheek. You felt a twisting in your stomach and realized for the first time in a long time, you had butterflies. Your skin was buzzing with excitement as you waited for Matt’s gentle touch. He giggled quietly and pulled his hands away.
“What’s wrong?” You laughed.
“Nothing.” He insisted with a grin. “Nothing, I swear.”
Your brows raised expectantly and he licked his lips with a smile as he raised his hands again. You laughed to yourself and grabbed his wrists to guide his hands. You slid his fingers into your hair at your temples and his thumbs ran along your forehead, following the path of your hairline.
You watched his expression shift, though there was always a smile on his face. His brows raised and furrowed as his thumbs continued to travel your face, skimming over your eyebrows as his fingers traced the curve of your ears. You giggled slightly when he got your eyes and the touch against your lashes made your eyes close.
“Can you smile?” He asked softly when both palms slid to your cheeks.
Your eyes opened and you saw the soft expression he wore. That look alone was enough to bring out an honest smile, thinking about how sweet and honest Matt was. He gave you a chance to be soft in a way you never had before. You had always thought yourself synonymous with bloody knuckles and gun powder. You wanted to be something to fear, to make people afraid to hurt you. But when Matt was around, all your jagged edges seemed to be rounded out.
His thumbs traced your cheeks to the bridge of your nose. You bit down the smile as his pointer fingers made their way to your lips, gingerly tracing the shape. One hand fell away while the other gave your cheeks a gentle squeeze, making you laugh.
“What was that for?” You asked and he laughed with you as he pulled both hands back to his lap.
“Nothing.” He answered innocently. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”
“Thanks, Matt.. So are you.”
“Yeah?” His brows raised as a slight pink tinted his cheeks.
“Yeah…” You smiled softly. “Y’know, I’m really glad we met.”
“Me too.”
————————————
Maggie tapped your shoulder and you pulled back into the present moment. You turned to see her handing you a bowl with the supplies to stitch him up. She offered a quick nod before disappearing and you blinked the pink tint from your vision.
“I don’t know if I can beat the man he sent to kill me, Y/N/N.” Matt confessed softly as you moved across the room to wash your hands.
“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” You asked simply.
“I’ve thought about everything between us a lot lately.” He said softly, all anger fading to the back for a moment as he appeared at your side. “Good and bad.”
“And there’s been a lot of both.”
“Mostly my fault.”
You turned to him with a clean wet cloth in hand. You gently grabbed his jaw and turned his head down towards you. He snorted a quiet chuckle while you gently cleared the blood from his nose and mouth.
“Well I’m not exactly a cake walk to have around… Just ask Marc. Or Billy. Or Frank. Or either of my cousins.. Hell, you could ask Karen.” You laughed slightly.
“I’m serious, Y/N/N.” He offered a small, lopsided smile.
“Y’know, I thought you might've turned off your heart, cause that just wasn’t you last time I saw you, when we were at Jasper’s.. But this guilt makes more sense.”
“You don’t seem very fazed that our friends could’ve died.” He commented as your hands returned to their place in his chest and began stitching him up.
“Yeah...” Your brows furrowed as you thought back to your realization from just moments ago. “They could’ve. But they didn’t.”
“He knew from the start, since I went to the prison. He knew I’d find Jasper.”
“Shut up for a second.” You shook your head, pausing your hands to let your brain work through your thoughts. You slowly began tapping your finger against his chest and he looked down at you with raised brows. “So why didn’t he kill them?”
“What?”
“The imposter could've killed them both. You were down and I had barely gotten to my feet, which was after he had already pulled a trigger on Jasper.” You stopped and turned your head up to face Matt again. “He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to give chances. So why not kill them too? Why not kill all of us?”
“Cause that wasn’t the plan.” Matt finished.
“No… He wasn’t sent to clear the place. The journalists and whatever damage he did from that was his own idea, probably only killing people that fought back. He was sent to send a message. To me and you, to the public, and every crime syndicate in New York. If he can wreck your public image, it shows that the people can’t trust you anymore. And by making it look like you’ve snapped and you work for him now, criminal groups across the city will see him as untouchable.”
“FBI protects him inside. Daredevil protects him outside. Makes it look like not even Exodus can’t touch him.”
“Untouchable. Like she’s fighting a losing battle…” Your fingers continued the steady movements to stitch him up. “We’ve gotta find this guy sooner rather than later.”
“I couldn’t stop him, but you could.” His brows furrowed but you ignored the look he gave you and focused on finishing the stitches. “How’d you know how to beat him?”
“His first instinct was to throw the club, which told me pretty much everything I needed to know.” You explained, though it was partially a lie. “He was strong, sure. But it was easy to tell his advantage was with distance and projectiles. When you two were going at it, he had trouble blocking everything which showed a lack in hand to hand experience. I saw a fighter that relied on brute strength or distance. The way he carried himself reminded me of the military, and in my experience, military men can’t defend against me very well. He couldn’t get me until I let up or got distracted.”
“Your experience.” He chuckled. “How many military men do you have experience with?”
“I don’t owe you that answer.” You said simply.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that’s not a very discreet way to ask who I’ve been sleeping with.”
“What?” He feigned innocence.
“I know you were at the apartment. What gave it away?”
“I could smell the colognes in the bedroom.” He admitted.
You let the silence settle for a moment until he began fiddling with his fingers.
“Four.” You finally answered and his brows raised in mild shock. “Two of them would’ve been recent enough that you could tell but they were just to pass the time. Well that’s kind of a lie. I was starting to like one of them until he turned around and shot me. The other two of them actually mattered, but one of them’s like my family. They’ve never been in the bedroom like that.”
“Hmm… Couch?” He tried to joke.
You smacked his arm.
“Neither of them have been in the apartment.” You specified.
“Your math is wrong, by the way. That was five.”
“No, it’s four.. There’s some overlap.”
“Would I uh… Would I know any of them?”
“Names, yes. Actual people, some. And to answer that other burning question that’s stamped on your forehead, no. I never slept with Frank.”
“I didn’t-“
“You assumed the only military guy we had in common… You were dead. What else was I supposed to do?” You gave a small shrug and dropped the supplies to the sink.
“I know.”
“Y’know, I really thought we could make it..”
“We still can.” He said softly, as if the words would break him. As if admitting those words in your presence was the last crumble of his resolve to stay away in the name of your protection.
And maybe they did. All you knew for sure was that whatever hard casing had shattered in your chest earlier that night, it would never fully solidify again. You were each other’s greatest weakness. The clearest vulnerability, but your greatest strength came from each other. Your best feats came when you two were together. Fisk knew that, and that’s why he wanted to separate you two.
Matt waited for you to turn back towards him and when you did, he took your hand and guided you to the small bed tucked in the corner.
“The suit he was wearing...” You remembered, hoping to redirect the conversation to the fight.
“Yeah, it was perfect.” Matt agreed.
“I think we’ll need to see Melvin.” You sighed and turned to him.
His brows furrowed as his head tilted, listening in on something. Your head cocked as you watched and waited for him to talk about it.
“Are your ribs bothering you again?” He asked suddenly. “It sounds like the bones are rubbing together.”
“Probably. He slammed me a few times and I took a tumble down the stairs earlier but it doesn’t hurt.” You sat up taller to prod the area but Matt’s hand was already pressing against the bones while the other was against your back for stability. You winced sharply and grabbed his wrist. “Yeah, they’re busted. I’ll deal with it later.”
“I can’t really feel it. Can I…” He gestured to your shirt.
You shook your head softly but stripped off your jacket and button-up. You gave Matt a side eye as you undid the velcro straps on your vest but he held a look of innocent concern. You pulled the vest over your head with a wince, leaving you in the black compression top that was underneath.
“Don’t think you're gonna get me out my clothes that easy anymore, Murdock.” You teased and he smiled as you guided his hands back.
“Guess I still got it.” He answered lowly as he pressed against your rib cage. You let a sound between a whine and a groan, which made Matt quickly turn to face you. “Never heard you make that sound before.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes in amusement.
“What about your hip? Where the knife went in?” His fingers slid down and pressed the joint of your hip.
“It’s fine, should be just a scar by now.” You looked down at his hand and saw the dark purple shapes on the back of your forearms from where you blocked the baton earlier that night. You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted your arms to better see the bruises.
Matt was quick to reach up and run his fingers along your skin, feeling the slight swelling of the discolored area. He sighed slightly and leaned forward, sliding his hands to have a better grip on your hips. He offered a quiet, pleading expression and gave your body a slight pull. You hesitantly scooted closer, lifting a leg to rest on his lap.
“My last fight was a lot worse. Still got out better than you did.” You said softly, brushing your fingers across his forehead to move his hair back. “You feeling okay?”
“Careful, Y/N.” His eyes closed and a small smile crossed his lips. “I might start to think you still love me.”
“I wouldn’t be down here if I didn’t.” You confessed quietly. “I had to make sure we didn’t lose you again.”
He shifted back on the bed slightly and pulled your hips again, this time pulling you over his lap. He draped your arms over his shoulders before his hands ran up and down the sides of your thighs. You leaned your forehead to rest on his and he tilted his head back so his lips brushed yours.
“You know there are some things we need to talk about.” You said quietly.
“I know..”
“And I can’t stay down here forever.”
“Yeah, just… Just let me hold you for a little longer.”
You nodded slightly and his arms snaked around your waist, allowing you to wrap yours around his shoulders.  You leaned forward to drop your head against his shoulder and his chin rested on top of your head. He took a deep breath and his arm held you a little closer. In turn, you felt a rattling in your chest. The sensation was true for what you and Matt felt about your current relationship. Uncertain, shaky at best with a cracked foundation. But there was a familiar tug as well, like a string tied from his heart to yours.
“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me anymore.” He mumbled against your shoulder before he pulled back. “I can’t keep you with me.”
“I can protect myself.” You answered with a small smile. “And I can feel that you want me here, Matty. You can say whatever you want but you can’t hide that longing in your chest.”
He hesitated to go any further, though his hands held you a bit tighter. You let your own hands run up the back of his neck and your fingers pushed into his hair. He let out a chuckle in relief and pressed his lips fully against yours.
Your lips moved together as if no time had passed. You let out a soft moan when he gently pulled you closer and you let all your guards crumble away.
Suddenly, Matt could feel her pulse against his skin with the small noise she made. He could hear more than just the bones rubbing together in her chest. He heard the way her heart was pounding and her breath was growing shallow. He slid his hands up to the exposed skin of her sides and he loved how he heard her heart pick up and the gasp that fell from her lips. He continued to push his hands under her shirt until his fingers found the hem of her bra.
His head was screaming for him to let her go, to force her to leave and keep her safe. He was yelling at himself to say something hurtful, to break her heart and send her off hating him. He knew she’d be safer that way, as far away from as she could get. But Matt recognized that she wouldn’t go for that. She’d never leave his side if she had a choice, and she wouldn’t let Matt take that choice from her.
She pulled her lips away just enough to offer a small, silent nod. She helped him remove her shirt and to stifle the groan. Once the fabric was gone, Matt gently switched positions so she could lay on her back. He carefully climbed on top of her and felt her hands trail down his chest. His eyes closed as her fingertips ghosted over the various scars across his abdomen, as if she wanted to see if they were still there. Maybe that was how she could convince herself it was real, that he was real. He felt her hands falter on one that she wouldn’t know, one that came from Midland Circle. But he knew she wasn’t feeling it in a bad way. She was feeling it to remember it, to add it to the memory she kept of his body.
He had added a few new scars of hers to his memory as well. The tattoos at the back of her neck. Deep lines around her wrist that were interrupted by a shallow circle on either side, a short but raised mark near her belly button. The newest one at her hip that he had yet to feel. He felt the slight divot along her jaw earlier that night. Whatever she had gone through in his absence, she’d never be able to forget it. He still wondered what happened, but in those moments where he had her hands and lips on him, he couldn't bring himself to stop and ask. He decided it would be a story for another time.
The moment only broke when Y/N gently pushed his chest away.
“Maybe this isn’t a great idea..” You said gently.
“Yeah..” He answered simply, as if that was the reaction he expected from you. “You’re probably right.”
“I still wanna stay.” You offered as he moved to lay beside you.
“I thought you couldn’t.”
“Tell me to go and I will.”
“And if I want you to stay”?
“Tell me and I will.”
You woke later that night - or maybe it was early morning - when your phone was ringing on the floor. You freed yourself from Matt’s arms and slid from the small bed to the floor. You found your phone in your jacket and leaned your back against the bed while you answered.
“Yeah?” You mumbled, eyes still closed and sleep dripping from your voice.
“Hey.” Dex’s voice answered and it felt like you were slapped awake. Every muscle in your body tensed as you expected an accusation of your alter ego. “Just callin’ to see if you’re home. I wanted to come by.”
“Isn’t it kinda late for that?”
“I was just hoping we could talk.. I heard about what happened at the Bulletin.”
“They’re talking about it already?” Your brows furrowed. 
“No, not really.” He said carefully and it was clear he was fabricating his lie as he went. “Ray told me you got a little banged up and I should check on you.”
You knew you had to redirect the conversation quickly or else he might realize that he didn’t see you there, if he hadn’t realized already.
“You don’t have to. I’ve gotten worse than a few bumps and bruises. But hey, while I got you, I wanted to ask if there was any word on your leave? I didn’t get a chance to see if Ray knew anything.”
“Uh… No. No, I haven’t heard anything. No.”
“That’s too bad.” You feigned disappointment. “Tonight probably would’ve been different if you were with me.”
“Yeah…” He paused on the other line and you knew you still had some hooks in him you could pull. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. Sorry to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hopefully I get you back with me soon, yeah?”
“Yeah… Yeah, soon. Back with.. with you.”
When you walked into work that morning, you were immediately blasted with familiar feelings from Karen. You followed that calling and ended up in the conference room with Foggy and Karen on one side and Ray on the other. Karen let out a tense sigh and jumped to meet you in a tight embrace, so tight you had to swallow the groan when she squeezed your ribs. Foggy was next, a short embrace followed by a tap on your arm.
“Y/L/N. Glad you’re here. How do you feel?” Ray asked when you stood beside him.
“Little banged up.” You gestured to the still red cut on your forehead. “But I’m not sitting this out. I get you had to pull me from the Murdock investigation but you’re letting me stay on this thing.”
“Yeah.” He gave a small smile. “Wouldn’t do it without you.”
“Great.” You nodded and took a seat beside Ray. “Fill me in.”
“We were addressing that, according to her own paper, Ms. Page has met Daredevil at least twice.” He explained and slid a paper across the table, citing the articles Karen had written.
“That psycho’s not Daredevil.” She countered and shoved the paper back.
“I got a pretty good look at him, too. Could’ve fooled me.” Ray countered, not acknowledging that you had told him something similar the night before.
“Do you think every fat guy with a white beard and red suit is Santa Claus?” Foggy countered and you had to smile.
“If he comes down my chimney and leaves presents under the tree.”
“Devil’s in the details there, Ray.” You added carefully. “That guy would’ve acted like Santa. If he did all of that, this guy didn’t act like Daredevil.”
“Based on how many encounters?” Ray turned to you.
“Couple.” You shrugged.
“He doesn’t kill people, ever. It’s not Daredevil.” Karen insisted. “Did you ever look into Felix Manning? Red Lion Bank?”
“They’re on my to-do list.”
“This is bullshit.”
“Look, Karen, he dropped your name.” You added but you weren’t speaking to her an FBI agent. You were speaking to her as her friend, as her vigilante friend, and she knew that. “He had a chance to kill you, but he didn’t. You were the one person left untouched. I know this seems like bullshit but we need to get these pieces to line up somehow.”
“It won’t.” Foggy cut in. “Not until you two start asking the right questions.”
“And what are those, Mr. Nelson?”
“How about this? Where’s Matt Murdock?” Ray interjected, looking at Foggy and then you.
You simply shrugged.
“Yet another fine example of a question that’s besides the friggin’ point!”
“You were supposed to deliver him to us-“ He gestured between the two of you. “-but there are zero Matt Murdocks in my custody.”
“And zero Jasper Evans left alive.” Karen added. “He killed the one person who had dirt on Fisk, but you knew that already. Is that why you don’t wanna go there?”
“Ms. Page.” You warned.
“What? That nut job did Agent Nadeem a huge favor. Now there’s no one left to tell the world what a fool Fisk is making of the FBI.” Karen continued.
“Did you know Daredevil was-“ Ray began.
“Daredevil imposter.” You cut in, earning a look of disbelief from Ray. “I’ll show you later.”
“Regardless.” He turned back to Karen. “Did you know he was gonna attack the Bulletin? Is that why you brought your gun?”
“Oh, come on.” You groaned as Foggy announced “We’re done here.”
Your friends were quick to leave the room, leaving you and Ray.
“What are you doing? I thought you didn’t get a good look at him.” Ray said lowly, almost angrily.
“No but you know who did, other than Karen?” You reached into your pocket and pulled an old thumb drive. “Outside my door this morning. I already checked it and it’s clean. No malware, no viruses, no tracking. Just a comparison of this Daredevil and the real Daredevil.”
After you left Matt the morning before work, you downloaded the footage from your mask. You found a few shots of Dex in the suit and downloaded those frames as pictures. You found a few old shots of Matt in the suit that matched the same framing and downloaded those as well.
“Do I wanna know who gave this to you?” He asked as he carefully took it.
“I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” You shrugged. “Could be an amateur photographer. I know Jameson at the Bugle is always looking for freelancers. Just give me a chance to explain it all, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You hurried out of the room and found Karen and Foggy not too far across the office.
“Evans wouldn’t have come to Bulletin if I hadn’t threatened his son.” Karen said sadly.
“His son will be alright.” You said honestly as you joined them. “My cousin is gonna get in touch and let him know, give him some money and help him start over. It’s not ideal but he’ll be okay.”
“We need to find Matt and-“ Foggy tried.
“No, I’m gonna head to the hospital.” Karen cut in, her voice weak with regret and guilt.
“Call me if you need anything.” You offered on her way out and she nodded. You sighed softly before facing Foggy again and speaking quietly, pulling him a few steps to the side. “Matt’s okay. I checked on him last night.”
“You know where he is?” His brows furrowed.
“Yeah, I guess I always had a feeling. I took a chance and it worked out.. Anyway, he’s a little worse off than me but he’ll be fine.”
“You guys have anything?”
“Sort of.” Your head tilted back and forth. “I’ve got some ideas and a basic construct, but we’ve gotta go to the guy that made the suit in the first place.”
“Think he’ll talk?”
“Yeah, he’s a good enough guy. Fisk had to have twisted his arm to get him to go along with it.” You nodded. “I’m gonna look into it on my lunch, assuming he doesn’t go rogue and do it without me.”
“I’m glad you two are working together again. What does it mean for you two?.”
“I don’t know yet, but my priority is keeping you three safe. I don’t care what I have to do.”
“Y/N.” He sighed.
“Y/L/N!” Ray called from down the hall. “Back to work. Let’s go.”
You patted Foggy’s arm and headed back into the office, following Ray towards a meeting with the warden. Ray filled you in quickly on the walk that you two were going to figure out how Jasper got out in the first place.
Apparently fake books wasn’t the most obvious solution.
You sat on the edge of the desk while Ray handled most of the conversation.
“How did some just check the wrong box?” You chuckled. “If you can’t give me a legitimate path to investigate, it’s gonna fall on your head. Forging federal documents is a crime and you will be serving time if you don’t give us answers. And something tells me those prisoners would love to spend some time with you.”
He stared at you and Ray and you felt the panic. He knew he was cornered, but he was also a coward. Whatever Fisk held over him, it was worth a jail sentence.
“I want my lawyer.” He said finally.
You two were then sitting in the SAC’s office and running over what had just happened. You were quiet while Ray went over everything. He told her what happened with Karen, what Jasper was supposed to say, what happened with the warden. 
“You believe Evans?” She looked to you.
“Why would he risk his life for a lie?” You shrugged. “And if the warden had nothing to hide, why bother with lawyers?”
“Alright. We gotta kick this up the chain. I’m calling the ADIC.”
“And tell him we don’t know all the facts?” Ray questioned quickly.
“There’s a damn good chance Fisk is manipulating us.”
“I warned you guys this would happen.” You muttered and crossed your arms.
“Shut it.” She pointed firmly to you.
“We need two days. Let us get all the facts.” Ray tried and you had to admit, you admired his determination. “When we can prove Fisk had been playing us, we can bury that son of a bitch together.”
“Leave him to fend for himself against all the people he’s burned.” You agreed. 
She shooed you two away and said that you had forty eight hours. You and Ray went back to his office and were comparing the images from your thumb drive.
You pointed out the height differences. Dex had at least two inches on Matt. You showed the difference in jaw shape. Dex’s was more square compared to Matt’s rounded chin. The facial hair difference was clear. Dex stayed clean shaven while Matt opted for light scruff. Their builds were different too, slightly broader shoulders and a narrower waist on Matt. With the photos in front of him, Ray couldn’t deny that they were two different men.
Throughout the day, you learned that the FBI had raided a workshop where Melvin Potter was working, a man who had helped make suits and protection for Fisk. But that was the same man that made yours, Matt’s and now Dex’s suits. You heard talk of a second man there, but only Melvin was in custody. You felt terrible, knowing that when you went to Melvin on your own for help he was more than willing. Now, there was nothing you could do for him because Matt went without you.
You skipped going with Ray to talk to Fisk that night. You told him you didn’t want to see or hear anything from him. You didn’t feel like dealing with more lies so you just headed home. Ray asked if you wanted to come to a small promotion party, just so you didn’t have to be alone, but you politely declined.
You were just getting to your building when you got a call from Maggie asking if you knew where Matt had gone. You answered honestly, that you had no idea but you’d find him. You opened yourself to his emotions and found him, still on his way to wherever he was going. You hurried across town, stopping a few houses down from here you thought you tracked him to. You stripped off your jacket and button-up, threw on your long-sleeve top, and grabbed the mask and Bites from your glove box before hurrying to the right house.
“I’m Daredevil.. The real one.” Matt said when you got into the room. You hurried across and pulled him back by his shoulders to get him off Ray.
“Are you insane?” You asked quietly.
“You don’t look like-“ Ray began.
“I buried the red suit.” Matt cut in. “The man who attacked the Bulletin, he resurrected it.”
“You do, however, match the description of a guy who’s been tuning up FBI agents. Does Agent Y/N Y/L/N ring a bell?” Your head snapped to Ray as he continued. “Heard she kicked your ass so bad you ran off. Maybe I should call her.”
You smirked slightly and Matt threw a discreet elbow into your arm.
“It was the last thing I wanted, but you people-“ He pointed a finger in Ray’s face. You reached over and pulled his hand down, bending his finger back slightly to earn a groan. “-didn’t leave me any choice. If you’d just wake the hell up instead of playing into Fisk’s hands. He’s using you, and I think you know it.”
“You went after the guy at the Bulletin.” Ray turned to you. “You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look at the other agents in that stairwell. Why?”
“Because I know who my partner is.” You put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “And I know who my enemies are. He would’ve killed you too, Agent Nadeem.”
“Who do you think the real danger is here?” Matt added. “Me or him?”
The conversation paused for a minute while Ray had to redirect his son back upstairs.
“Let’s say I believe the two that just broke into my house.” Ray said tightly. “What do you got?”
“The man who attacked the Bulletin dressed as Daredevil… He’s in the FBI.” Matt answered and you felt your blood rush down to your feet.
“What?” You asked quietly. “How do you know?” Matt looked over at you. “How do you know?”
“I found the man that made the suit. He told me that he didn’t know his name, but he knew he was in the FBI. So tell me, which of your agents has Fisk been especially interested in?”
You zoned out for the rest of the conversation. When you got a chance, you snuck out the door. You were quick to change and get back in your car. Instead of going home and ignoring it, you drove to the church. You headed downstairs and waited on the small bed until Matt got there.
“You already knew, didn’t you?” Matt challenged as he stepped inside, tossing his mask across the room while he went to wash his hands.
“You were supposed to wait for me.” You countered.
“Who is he?”
“Why would you think I know?” You stood.
“Who is he, Y/N?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.” He turned to face you.
“Am I?” You tilted your head with a slight squint. “Or is it that you can’t tell so you’re trying to trap me?”
“Why are you protecting him?” He shouted and your jaw clenched. The worst part was that you didn’t know how to answer that.
You didn’t know if you were or if it was to protect Matt. If you took down Fisk, Dex would go down too. Start at the top and the bottom crumbles. Matt couldn’t face Dex on his own. He’d already proven that. He needed your help, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
“I’m trying to protect you but you won’t listen to me!”
“Listen to you? Listen to you? Y/N, you’ve been lying to me! Why should I listen?”
“Cause you already know you can’t beat him without me.” You said simply, trying to gain some composure. “Whether or not you know his name, he will beat you every time. Next time, he will probably kill you.”
“Why didn’t you stop it?”
“How was I supposed to do that?” You scoffed. 
“You know how. It gets you everything you want, doesn’t it?”
“What, this?” You raised your brows and pulled fear to Matt’s surface, watching him cough and choke slightly before clearing it away. “I can’t control everyone.”
“That’s how you knew how to beat him.” He continued and you didn’t bother arguing. “Because you know exactly who he is.”
“I have an idea.” You said carefully.
“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You know.”
You didn’t know why you were protecting Dex, but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw his name out there. Maybe it was your own pride. You wanted to take him down yourself. Maybe it was just some loyalty to him as a partner or some pathetic hope that some sliver of a redeemable man was left.
“I don’t have any proof.” You said, which wasn’t a lie. But you did know how to get it.
“Y’know, I knew you were a good liar, but I didn’t think you’d lie to me.”
“Are you seriously talking to me about lying?” You laughed in disbelief. “You lied for how long about being dead?”
“That’s not the same!”
“No, you’re right. It’s worse!”
“My lie didn’t kill anyone!”
“It almost killed me.” You admitted. His brows furrowed as he faced you, trying to figure out what you meant. “The night after Midland, I thought about drowning myself in the tub. Almost did it, too. And the scar on my wrist that you were so interested in last night? Gunshot, nearly bled out from it. I almost died at the carousel because I didn’t care what happened to me.”
“I didn’t make you do that.” He said quietly.
“You didn't make me… You’re right. You didn’t. But you weren’t here to stop me either. And that was your choice. You always knew where to find me, Matt. But you hid out down here.”
“I’m not the one that can make people feel what she wants. You could’ve stopped them from trying to kill you. You could’ve stopped all of this!”
“You aren’t listening to me! You never listen to me!” You shouted and pushed him by his chest. “I only let my powers go so far, because if I don’t, then nothing‘s real.”
“How far did they go with me?” He asked suddenly, and the question seemed to shock him as much as it did you.
Matt realized it immediately after he said it. That was what he was looking for the night before. When he was thinking of what to say that’d be hurtful enough to break her, to push her away for good. It was the idea of challenging the validity of the relationship they had. He let out a small sigh when he realized that what he said had done more than hurt her. It shattered whatever was left of her heart, whatever had just been putting itself back together.
“What?” You asked softly.
“Was it ever real? My feelings for you.” He didn’t know why he kept going, but he did.
“Did you love me when I wasn’t around?” Your eyes fell to the floor as you backed away, a sharp pain stemming from your chest. “Did you still care about me before I came back?”
“Yeah…”
You swallowed the stinging sensation that was climbing your throat and lifted your eyes to Matt, taking careful steps forward. “Did you ever question it before you knew what I could do?”
He shook his head.
“There’s your answer… The worst part of my powers is not really knowing if I’m messing with someone or if it’s real. But I guess I know what it is with you. And I really wanted everything with us to be real. I was as honest as I knew how to be when it came to you, but you still can’t trust me.”
“Y/N, wait.” Matt realized he couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t let her leave with that kind of hurt, not when it was his fault.
“No. No, you don’t get to try and pull a punch you’ve already thrown. You can’t backtrack this time..” You shook your head and turned to leave. 
“I didn’t mean it, Y/N, please.”
“You always say what you mean, Matt. After everything I’ve done, I thought you would’ve trusted me by now. But y’know what, fine. You wanna be alone? Be alone.”
You turned on your heels and were storming towards the stairs to leave when you felt his hand on your wrist. You reached over with your free hand and twisted his arm over as you stepped underneath and behind him. You kicked out his front knee and forced him down, quickly moving one hand to press at the base of his shoulder. You pulled your knee back and as you drove it forward, his other hand came up to block it. You pulled your foot back again but threw it for a kick this time, only to have Matt catch it by your ankle.
He yanked your forward and you went stumbling, releasing his arm so your hands could catch yourself on the nearest marble statue.
“Would you just listen to me?” He tried as he got to his feet.
“Like you’ve been listening to me?” You laughed. “Like you listened when I begged you not to stay under Midland?”
“How many times do I have to apologize for that?” He asked loudly, throwing his hands to the side.
“I don’t want your apology. I want you to admit you were wrong.”
“I did what I thought would be better for you.”
You let out a loud sound of frustration and moved at him. You threw a roundhouse that he leaned away from but your momentum carried you around so you spun and shot a back kick that landed against his chest. As he stumbled, you did a quick shuffle to replace your feet and reset yourself to face him. Left jab that he knocked away. Right hook that he ducked. A small growl sounded from deep in your throat as you walked in a small circle around him. He kept his hands up in anticipation as he spun with you, trying to keep you in front of him.
“You think all of this is easy for me?” You asked plainly, feeling every inch of your skin burning with your newly soaked anger. “Easy having you alive. Easy having to go against someone I work with, someone who helped save my life. Karen and Foggy and Lantom and Maggie, all of them wanted me to build bonds and create relationships with people so I wasn’t alone anymore. Well, look where it got me!”
“This is why I stayed away, Y/N.” He tried.
“Bullshit.” You scoffed. “You were being selfish.”
“I knew you had a good life. I knew I would only mess it up.”
“You didn’t mess up my life by coming back. You messed it up when you left, when you betrayed me.”
His hands faltered and you used it to your advantage. You moved quickly and slammed a knee against his chest. It forced him back and he grabbed both of your upper arms to keep you close.
“I couldn’t have betrayed you.” He spoke with a gentle firmness, an honest plea for you to believe him. “I never meant to-“
“What we do isn’t an accident! You don’t accidentally stay under a falling building for your ex-girlfriend. You don’t accidentally stay away from your actual girlfriend for months. You don’t accidentally tell someone that you never really trusted them!”
“You think I ever wanted to hurt you?” He countered. “After knowing where you came from, what you were supposed to be and what your mission was, I thought it was only a matter of time before you hurt me.”
“You think I never sat there and wondered if you were pretending? I never thought I was worth anything more than a bullet.”
“I’ve cared about you since we met, Y/N. You were always worth that.”
“I wasn’t!” You placed the other foot against the wall and kicked off , turning you two so you could slam him to the ground. “I loved you!”
“And I still love you! It was real. I know it was. I know it because you brought something to my life that I can’t stand the thought of losing.”
“Then why would you ask if it was real?” You asked softly, heart twisting in your chest.
“I don’t know.” He admitted with a sigh.
“Liar!” You shouted and slammed a fist down.
He moved his head so your fist hit the ground and the impact jolted up your arm. You threw the punch again and again, hitting the same spot in the concrete until Matt rolled you two up to a sitting position. He put his hands on either side of your face in an effort to force your attention to him. He made a small noise of discomfort when his palms met your skin, likely due to the heat still radiating off you.
One hand was shaking, knuckles bruised and bloody from assaulting the hard ground, while the other gingerly held your injury. Reluctantly, your eyes met Matt’s and even though it seemed like he was looking through you, you knew he was focused on you.
“I was convinced…” He began softly and the gentle tone made the heat slowly dissipate. “I thought that I had to hurt you so you would leave. But I… I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I just couldn’t.”
“But you did.” You answered, your voice small and distant. You leaned away and got to your feet, ignoring the disappointment that you could feel coming from him.
Without another word, you left him on the floor.
The next day went about as expected. Ray was looking into a few agents, but he wouldn’t tell you much. You watched from the media room as he flipped through files before pulling the camera log from the wall behind him. You knew he had to have found the time when Dex had turned the cameras off, likely finding a time when you went in after him. You waited until Ray hurried out of the room before you followed. You claimed you were feeling dizzy from the head injury you had gotten at the Bulletin incident so no one tried to stop you. Instead, you grabbed your duffle from the trunk and took off.
You changed your work shirt for your vigilante top in the closest alleyway after following Ray’s car, waiting to watch him for a minute while you fitted your mask into place. He stood in the alley by himself for a minute, but you and Matt joined him at the same time.
“What’s his name?” Matt asked simply, turning his head towards your presence but saying nothing.
“I need to be sure about you two. You guys have a history of hurting people.” Ray said firmly, looking between you both.
“I want Fisk in prison.” You said honestly. “I don’t want to kill your agent, but if he insists on being in my way, I will go through him.”
“I’m not handing you a federal agent if you’re gonna kill him.”
“I’ll get to him whether you give him to me or not.” You stepped closer to Ray but Matt grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him as your skin grew warm. “Get your hand off me.”
“What happened to partners?” Matt asked quietly.
“That would mean you trust me.”
“C’mon, Ex. If this is about last night-”
“If you’re right about him, taking Fisk down is our job.” Ray cut in.
“Oh really?” Matt said flatly so you yanked your arm back. “Because we all know where he’s sleeping these days. But I understand.. If there’s one thing we agree on, Nadeem, it’s the greater good. Like house incarceration in exchange for good intel.”
“Not everyone will like the choices we make.” You added, keeping your voice level. “But it’s up to us to make those choices.”
Matt turned to you. “Sometimes you have to hurt one person to save them, and others.”
“Oh please.” You scoffed. “Just tell us the name, Agent.”
“I need your word that you won’t touch him.” Ray tried and you felt bad.
Dex was someone that Ray had trusted, someone Ray had worked with for a long time. Dex knew Ray’s family and they were friends. They were supposed to look out for each other. But now they found themselves on opposite sides of the law with vigilantes going after them. You wished there was a better way but you had to get Dex away from Fisk, otherwise you’d never lock the bastard back up.
“Our word can’t mean anything to you.” Matt reasoned.
“But I need to hear you give it.” Ray insisted. 
“I need him to testify against Fisk, so you got it.” Matt said simply. “Her, too.”
“You don’t speak for me.” You countered. “But you won’t convince him to switch sides. Fisk has played too many games with him. One more switch and he snaps.”
“You know who he is?” Ray asked you and you gave a small shrug.
“It’s not hard to connect dots if you pay attention.”
“We’ll slip into his place, look for any evidence that ties him to the attack on the Bulletin and to Fisk.” Ray offered, clearly looking for a way to save Dex. “If we find any, we leave it where it is.”
“You can get around a search warrant if we set off the fire alarm.”
“Exactly. But if we don't find anything, the guy goes on with his life.”
“Spit it out.” Matt said plainly. “Who is he?”
You wondered if this attitude was due to your most recent conversation or if that was just who he was, and the softer night you two had was just a lapse in judgment. His accusations from the night before made you wonder if, subconsciously, you had manipulated Matt into that tender moment. Maybe the man you met in college truly was gone.
Maybe only the Devil remained.
“Special Agent Ben Poindexter.” Ray said tightly and you let out a small sigh.
Matt turned towards you and you knew there was accusation in his expression. He had to have remembered the name from when you talked about Dex before Midland Circle, when you were at Anvil and waiting to hear from the FBI. It had to have clicked in his head why you hid his identity. 
Dex was your partner, your friend. He was there for you while Matt was gone. He wanted to fault you for it, and while he didn’t appreciate you hiding that from him, he wasn’t going to bring it up then.
Later that night, you were waiting for Matt on Dex’s fire escape.
You slid open the window when he got there and he moved to let Ray in the front door. You let them wander the apartment while you moved towards the safe in the closet. If he was keeping the suit in his place, that’s where it’d be.
“I can’t call a crew to crack that.” Ray sighed.
Matt moved forward and got to work on it.
“I know the combination. You don’t have to-” You spoke loudly, but Matt ignored you. “And you’re doing it anyway, Great.”
“Wait, he can do that?” Ray asked with wide eyes.
“Not if you two keep talking.” He answered tightly.
You mocked him quietly and tapped your mask. You let it load up before leaning closer to the safe. Your eyes searched each shelf but found nothing out of the ordinary.
“It’s not there.” You said quietly as Matt got the door unlocked.
The boys looked through the safe and found nothing they could use. You were turning to leave when you heard the click of a tape player. Turning back, you saw Matt with Dex’s cassette player in hand as one of his old therapy tapes played.
You sighed slightly and felt a sudden spike of panic.
“What did you leave Poindexter doing?” You asked Ray when you realized it was coming from the direction of the bureau. Your implant pinged in your head and you had a feeling it was Dex. But you couldn’t answer it in front of Ray, so you had to leave it alone.
“Talking to an attorney about a wrongful termination suit. Why?” Ray answered as Matt went through more tapes.
“Because something is going very wrong. He’s about to break.”
As they listened to more and more tapes, you paced the apartment anxiously. The longer you were there, the closer that panic and instability got. When Matt looked towards the door, you tapped your mask and saw Dex coming down the hall.
“Убирайся.” You told them, giving Matt a shove. “Both of you. Out, now. He’s here.”(Get out.)
“You should go.” Matt told Ray.
“No, we had a deal. No evidence means you two don’t touch him!” He insisted.
“I found evidence.” Matt tried.
You groaned slightly as the two argued back and forth. You cracked the door slightly and saw Dex pulling glass adornments off the nearest light fixture. You cursed yourself quietly and shut the door again before grabbing both men by the collars and shoving them out the window.
“Go, now.” You said firmly. “I’ve got the best chance if we’ve gotta fight him.”
“What- Fight him? You said-“ Ray tried but you raised a hand and forced fear to the surface to get him to run.
“Make sure he gets out of here.” You told Matt when he hesitated. “Don’t make me make you.”
“Ex, don’t.” He tried but you did the same to him. But instead of fear, you pulled his betrayal to the surface.
Matt knew it was you. He knew what he was feeling wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t enough to make him abandon you, to leave you to stand against Poindexter on your own. But that didn’t make the urge any easier to fight. So he ran.
When you heard the door sneaking open, you moved the fire escape and pressed your back against the wall. You pulled a knife from your belt and angled it so you could watch his movements. He crept through his apartment carefully, noting the misplaced items and tapes scattered across the table.
“Show yourself.” He called out and you glanced above to find Matt and Ray, but you found no one. It made you wish you had stuck Matt with another comms piece, but blind faith would have to do for the moment. “I know you’re out there.”
One of the glass sticks came flying out and bounced off the railing in front of to knock into your blade. You gasped slightly and stuck your foot out so it landed against you rather than the metal of the fire escape.
“I can see you.” He called as you knelt to pick it up.
“How can you see me from over there?” You answered as you stood carefully. With a blade in one hand, you pulled your gun with the other.
“I was lying. Did you really fall for that?” He replied and you made a face to yourself before stepping out. 
Your gun was raised and the hand with the knife braced your wrist. He stood tense with another piece in hand and ready to throw.
“Well done. Not many people are bold enough to lie to me. What’s your name?” You asked.
“You first, then maybe I’ll do the same.” He nodded towards you.
“Nice try.” You smiled. “But two can play this game, and I have a feeling that I’m better at it than you are.”
“Don’t be so modest. I know you’re that vigilante. Let’s be honest here. You’re Exodus.” His body language relaxed a little as you stared him down, picturing the tension fall away like melted snow. “Badass out in Hell’s Kitchen. Unmatched so far, witty, and brains behind some of the best strategies he’s seen.”
“If you’re looking for a mentor, Dex, I can make sure your time is well spent. I can put you to better use than Fisk can. I’ve never been to prison so it’s not like I’ve gotten caught.”
“That’s your plan?” He chuckled in disbelief. “You and me, best friends?”
“We’ll see how it ends.” You shrugged.
“Okay.” He scoffed. “Wait.. How’d you know my name?”
“I’ve done my research. Ever since you attacked the Bulletin a few nights ago but didn’t kill me and you bragged like you knew me. Like you knew my story with the real Daredevil. I wanted to know who I would be up against. You’re good, I’ll admit it. Fisk made a good choice in picking you, an elite FBI SWAT sniper. And your partner, Y/N. She had some nice words to say, but she’s worried about you.”
“Y/N?” His brows furrowed and the tension rose again. “What did you do to her?”
“We just talked. She wants to save you from yourself.”
“That why she didn’t answer her phone? Did you hurt her?”
“No. But she is a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” You offered a wicked smile and his anger grew sharply.
“Leave her out of this.”
“Should I leave Julie out of it, too?” You mocked.
“What did you do to her?” He shouted.
“Nothing.” You answered innocently. “Yet.”
His head cocked as he silently questioned if you were serious. You took the chance to fire a bullet just over his shoulder, close enough to graze the material of his jacket. When he dropped to the floor, you rushed up the fire escape and slipped into the apartment above. You found Matt and Ray and were able to get them to the ground just as the bullets came in.
“The shot came from across the alley.” Ray said through heavy breathing. Looking over, you saw he was hit.
You were quick to kneel beside him and pull off a glove. You looked to Matt and took in his anger so you could push it to the palm of your hand. You pressed the palm against Ray’s side and he groaned loudly as the faint smell of burnt skin permeated the apartment. It wouldn’t heal the wound but it would at least slow the bleeding.
“I think it came from downstairs.” Matt countered.
“He’s ricocheting the bullets.” You confirmed, ignoring the look Ray gave you. “I’ve seen him do it a hundred times. If he can see you, he can hit you.”
Matt threw a newspaper and rolled to the other side, hiding behind a bookcase. He was talking to you about how many shots Dex had left and the fact that the cops were called when you looked around and realized something. Even from your angle behind the sofa, you could see Matt in the mirror on the door.
“The mirror.” You said to yourself and Ray noticed it at the same time.
You looked around and found a book on the coffee table. You pulled your arm back and threw it as hard as you could against the mirror, watching the reflective surface shatter when the next round of bullets came in. When Matt said to run, you helped Ray out the door before sliding to sit under the window sill. Using your mask to see the floor below, you saw Dex moving to the fire escape.
You pushed Matt out first and as you were climbing out, you saw Dex coming up the steps. You grabbed both railings and kicked both feet against his chest to send your partner tumbling back down. Matt turned around but you pushed for him to keep going. You heard the climbing stop below you just before Matt grabbed your arms and switched positions so he could block the glass sticks being thrown with a trash can lid. 
You two were reaching the roof when one piece came up and cut the strap of your mask, nicking your ear in the process. You grabbed the railing and leaned over to catch it, only to make eye contact with Dex. His arm was already drawn back to throw another one but he froze, eyes wide as he saw you.
You could see him mouth your name but you were too far away to hear it. But you weren’t far enough to miss the heavy hit of betrayal against your chest. You didn’t know what to do but when you saw Dex’s features illuminated by the police flashlights, you snapped from your daze and hurried onto the roof. You paced the area in a panic with your mask tightly in your fist.
“Hey.” Matt said when he realized what was happening. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“He knows.” You said quickly. “He knows who I am.”
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