MULTI MUSE

"Matt?"

The last few days had blurred together, a wash of blood and anxiety, and feelings she could barely describe. It didn't exactly feel like she'd been handling it well, but she'd been handling it, and there had to be something of value to that.

She's not sure she'd taken a deep breath since she'd found him at home. She'd known this was an inevitability from day one. From the moment they'd had that conversation tucked away in his tub, about who he was, and what he did.

It wasn't like she didn't come with her own potential disasters. Maybe she just hadn't expected to come so close to losing him so quickly.

There was still blood under her fingernails. Whether it was his still, or her own -- lingering from her attempts to scrub the remnants of his injuries off her own hands -- was hard to say. Some hind part of her brain had kicked in when she'd found him on the floor, desperate and kicked into immediate action. She'd kept moving until she couldn't anymore. Until someone at the hospital had taken him from her. She'd turned herself off in the mean time. Closed down as best as she could to shut out the ghosts that surrounded them.

She couldn't deal with the idea that he could be another, or that they could be stuck here for days, or that at the end of all this she could be alone. Finally, this time. Because there'd never be someone after him, there couldn't be. He was it. She stopped, and started with him.

Maybe she'd just never really considered it before. The inevitable truth that some day she'd have to figure out how to exist again without him. There was nothing to be done about it, other than holding on as hard as possible.

Matt’s throat feels all raw, scratchy and hoarse, from being without water for a few days, mouth feeling so dry that he knows he should probably ask for water. How long has he been out? He must have had surgery if the pain and stitches are any indication but had he been injured enough that he’d been knocked out? 

Matt remembers thinking that he was going to die there in his apartment, bleeding out, leaving Liv and the people of Hell’s Kitchen behind when they all deserved better than that. Death has never scared him but that day....leaving Liv behind? That had scared the hell out of him. Not death, that part he’s made his peace with long ago, but leaving Liv? He’s not ready for that. 

But he won’t give up on Hell’s Kitchen, either. He’ll take time to recover and then he’ll get back out there, doing what he does best, and keeping people safe. He’d tried retiring the suit, it hadn’t worked out well for anyone. 

This is just a risk that they all have to be okay with. 

Her fingers through his hair is something that helps pause his busy mind and ground him in his current reality. Hospitals tend to make his skin crawl, too many sounds and scents that make him want to make a break for it, but even the stubborn Daredevil knows not to get up and take off right now. He’ll pull his stitches, rip his wounds open, and they’ll be back to square one. 

If he notices that she smells like she hasn’t taken a shower in a couple of days, he doesn’t say it. Though, it does bring concern to him. How long has she been sitting in the chair unmoving? He can smell dried blood – his blood – on her. A dull kind of scent, which means she tried her best to scrub it from her body, but still there. 

He cannot even imagine the sort of trauma he has put her through, seeing him bleeding out like that. There must still be a stain on their apartment floor (which are luckily tile, he chose that because it’s easier to clean blood up on) that they need to clean up. He won’t make her do it, he’ll do it when he gets out of here and can move without being in pain with just the slightest shifts. 

He doesn’t want to be drugged up, though, so he won’t ask for pain meds. He needs his mind clear in case someone tries to come into the hospital to finish the job. An unlikely thing when Fisk is so careful but it isn’t something Matt is one hundred percent comfortable ruling out. 

She'd been holding herself together since he walked through the door, through cleaning the blood from his face and pretending she wasn't counting every bruise she could see. But hearing him apologize makes something in her crack.

"Matt..." Her voice is barely above a whisper.

She reaches up and cups his cheek carefully, her thumb brushing against uninjured skin. The sight of the split lip, the swelling around his nose, the way he's trying so hard to act like this isn't that bad....it hurts to look at.

"I know you are... I know you had your reasons. I know you can't just sit back when people are getting hurt."

She shakes her head, swallowing hard.

"But God, Matt... look at you."

Her hand trembles slightly against his face.

"When I saw you... I thought..."

The words catch in her throat. She can't finish them.

For a moment she just stares at him, needing the reassurance that he's really here, really breathing, really alive.

"You scare me because one day you might not come back....And I hate this. I hate seeing you hurt. I hate seeing what they do to you and I just sit back and can't do anything about it..."

Carefully, she leans forward and rests her forehead against his.

"So don't apologize for worrying me. Just..." She closes her eyes. "Just stay alive, okay?"

Her fingers tighten around his hand.

Matt tilts his head, leaning into Karen’s touch. These sorts of injuries are something he’s used to, though it’s certainly worse injuries than he normally comes back to her with. It’s a hazard of what he does, it won’t be the last time he comes to her like this, even if he tries not to. 

She’s scared and trembling, her heart pounding in her chest and it prompts him to lift his hand so that he can press his hand to the back of her hand, keeping her hand pressed against his face but also offering what he hopes is a soothing touch. 

“Hey. I’m right here. I’m alive.” Matt mutters in a whisper. Her heart still hasn’t slowed down and if he didn’t know any better, he might be concerned she’d stress herself right into a heart attack. 

“I know.” Matt feels terrible that he scares her, but there’s not a way for him to change that. It’s just something she has to live with, no matter how much he wishes he could promise her that he’ll stay alive, that’s not a promise he can make. 

With every brutal thrust, it rocks his body forward and hits that spot that makes him yelp out in pleasure. The spider demon has no shame, he will yelp and scream as loud as he wants to and he knows Valentino tends to get off on it, especially if it’s mixed with pain, and the thrusts are so rough it does hurt every now and then.

Angel Dust expected the answer, he expected that he doesn’t deserve to touch himself after everything. This is a punishment, this is meant only for Valentino’s pleasure. He’ll be lucky if he gets to cum. Or maybe he will and Valentino will make him cum over and over again until he he’s crying and begging for it to stop.

There’s no telling with Valentino. He’s unpredictable and Angel Dust can never really tell what he’ll do. There’s no anticipating it when there’s a wide variety of things that Valentino can do to him.

Teeth at his shoulder and cock ruthlessly hitting his prostate with every thrust has Angel whimpering, crying out, his moans getting louder and louder until they’re desperate near screams. He has no choice but to take it. Even trying to move his hips is out of the question when Valentino moves him like he’s nothing more than some fuck toy.

Angel supposes he is right now.

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy.” Angel Dust manages to barely get out between his cries, voice trembling. He’s right, he should have never listened to Charlie, it was only a matter of time before he ended up right here again, being fucked and used like Valentino’s favorite fuck toy.

indie multimuse ft muses from various video games, anime, tv series, and movies..

"i mean i'm a century and a half old, you do the math." she mutters, her gaze dropping to her hands briefly. "it just... it's a lot to carry around and i've carried it for so long and i'm tired." and honestly? that's the most truthful she's been about it all. either way she lives it's head, emotions or not.

"you watch medical shows?" that's so not the point. it's the same reason she watches any kind of media with supernaturals in it. it's a hate watching thing. "you really wouldn't have liked me the way i was back then. i was... relentless. hunters became an obstacle to remove and then," she takes a breath, "then it was people who were even remotely connected to them. i didn't care. i wanted them to suffer like they made me suffer." despite the short lived time of her being like that, there were stories for many decades about her. well not her exactly, given no one knew who it was. just that there was a creature out there taking out anyone who posed the slightest threat. that was what put her and her coven, and every supernatural in danger.

evvie is grateful for robby honestly, because even if she's spinning out he never let's it get that far. "i'm not trying to be difficult it's just... i don't know. i try really hard to be good and kind and whatever else to make up for what i did but that doesn't stop the other stuff from the rest of my life from coming after me. or trying to repeat itself."

it's hard and she is fully aware of how complicated she makes life.

"i've always just tried to run. after my family, after joseph, after katrina. all i do is run and i think i wanted to run again when i wanted to hurt that woman. because if i did with without my humanity then i didn't really do it and i could just disappear and that's always been easier." again there's no point in really lying to him, and it's not exactly fair given she can read his mind.

"it's not? because normal, safe people don't plan about ripping people's throats out." but she didn't. she came here, to a place and a person she felt safe going to.

she stops talking, stops spiraling. it's her turn to listen to him now. truthfully, a lot of the time she feels selfish in a way, reading minds the way she can. because a lot of the time, what was done was because she was just trying to keep people alive. mostly so that she , and everyone else, didn't carry that particular brand of grief around. she can't look at him for a minute, her bottom lip trembling as she tries, and fails to keep it together. she doesn't tell him in that moment how selfish it all really feels, that's a bridge to cross later.

she could blame it all on adamson, say her visit to him after he died was the reason but that wasn't totally true either was it? she was looking out for robby the second the doc got sick. she just became more insistent about it after he died.

Tired. 

Yeah, he knows how that feels. He may not be as old as she is but he knows that bone deep kind of tired she’s talking about. It destroys you, it makes it so hard to get out of bed, but they do. They do, because that’s the type of people they are. They get tired and they get up anyway because helping people is the only thing they know how to do.  

“I don’t care who you were before.” That’s the complete truth, too. She could have been a killer before, merciless, and he doesn’t think he’d care. That is not the Evvie he knows now and it’s not the Evvie he cares about. The Evvie he cares about is kind and good and compassionate. The Evvie he cares about is the Evvie that is his daughter. 

“I know when you’re being difficult.” Robby says, it’s meant to lighten the mood and be a tease. “I know that’s not what you’re doing right now.” No, she’s just....feeling a lot of feelings and he wants her to know that that’s okay. 

“I think about stabbing Gloria with a scalpel at least 3 times a day. Do I seem unsafe?” Thinking about doing these things are way different than actually doing it, they both know that. She can have all these thoughts she wants but unless they’re acted on, it doesn’t matter. Not to Robby at least. 

After everything, Stolas had been the one to save him. Now all he wanted to do was make sure he was taken care of and happy.

Parking outside the small restaurant, he climbed out and hurried to open the passenger door for Stolas. "Here we are!" It wasn't the fanciest place in the world. A little hole in the wall place, but in Blitz's opinion, those were the best places to eat.

It is a decent looking place. It isn’t the upscale restaurants Stolas is used to but that doesn’t make it seem any less nice. It has it’s charm in it’s own little mundane way and Stolas supposes he’ll simply have to get used to places like this from now on. 

He trusts Blitz so if the imp says this place is good, then he’ll have to trust him. They’re seated in no time – without even needing a reservation which is quite surprising to the former Princes – and soon they settle at a table. 

He picks up the menu, scanning over each and every item. There’s so much to choose from that he’s not quite sure where to even begin. It may not be a fancy place but it appears that it is not short of any selections.