❝ how long have you known? ❞ (arthur)
“A while,” she admitted softly. “I wanted to tell you... I just didn’t know how.”
❝ how long have you known? ❞ (arthur)
“A while,” she admitted softly. “I wanted to tell you... I just didn’t know how.”
@cxcophony cont. from here
The last thing she remembered was the roof. The blinding pain of being stabbed and the way everything faded afterwards. Then there was nothing. Then there was pain all over again until she was left staggering through the streets; cold, wet and disoriented. It was instinct to come here to him. Elektra couldn’t remember a lick of what had happened. Who had nursed her back to health? Why hadn’t Matthew been there? What happened to the Hand? “Okay.” Elektra followed him numbly, body shook with tremors, the rain sticking her hair and clothing to her skin.
@cxcophony continued
“Yes, of course. Come in.” Elektra stepped back, pulling the door open further for him. Her apartment wasn’t exactly in any condition she’d be willing to accept guests in under normal circumstances. There was a book on the footstool and a blanket thrown haphazardly across the chair. Hell, she hadn’t even gotten dressed really, still wandering around in her pajamas and bare feet. It was messy. Cracked the facade she’d so carefully built. These weren’t normal circumstances, though. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want to be alone today. Matt was polite enough not to say anything.
“I can make you coffee, if you want.” It was about the only thing she had to offer guests. Besides scotch, but it seemed too early for scotch. Either way, it would keep her hands busy. She’d still made no move to take the present.
@cxcophony continued
“It’s nothing, really,” Jessica mocked, rolling her eyes. She placed her hand on Matt’s chest and pushed. It didn’t take a lot of effort at all to push him back against the pillows. Which in and of itself was distressing; Matt shouldn’t be easy to push around super strength or not. “The city isn’t going to go to hell in one night. I mean, maybe. But fuck ‘em anyway. You’re going to get your dumbass killed going out there.”
cxcophony replied to your post: [ aayyy it’s munday and i actually took a decent...
WIFE did it hurt when u fell from heaven???
[ a little tbh ]
@cxcophony [ x ]
It was nothing they hadn’t done a million times before. Indigenous population. First contact. Diplomatic negotiations. Try not to let it end in a firefight this time, Jim. It was routine, no reason to be worried, but this time something uneasy had settled in his chest, a hesitance he hadn’t experienced before. Images of glass and pain and darkness flashed through his mind. How do you choose not to feel?
But there wasn’t room for doubt he reminded himself, forcing the memories back, ignoring the way they left him cold. He forced a smile onto his face, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on Toni’s arm. “It’ll be fine. No need to worry.”
Toni realized in that moment that she knew Jim far too well at this point. She could see the tension in him, clear as day, and even when he smiled at her Toni knew he didn’t mean it. She’d been BLESSED so many times with Jim’s genuine smile, was so familiar with the way it made his eyes crease, that there was no fooling her.
“You know I always worry. You only ever give me reasons to.” Toni took in a shallow breath, pressed her lips in a straight line while breathing out a short sigh through her nose. “I’ll be pissed if you get hurt.”
codenamemockingbird replied to your post “Opinions on icon style? Options under the cut.[[MOR] one two three...”
I like one and two
oncman replied to your post “Opinions on icon style? Options under the cut.[[MOR] one two three...”
four ??
cxcophony replied to your post “Opinions on icon style? Options under the cut.[[MOR] one two three...”
I quite like no.2
In conclusion, every style except the one I was leaning towards. ;) But thanks, you guys! I really appreciate it!
@cxcophony
“You remembered...” There was a faint trace of emotion in her voice, a lump in her throat. It wasn’t so much that she hadn’t expected him to remember, necessarily. Elektra thought it might be impossible to forget that night. His tears on her face as she struggled to keep breathing around the blood in her lungs. She’d died on her last birthday; it was impossible to forget.
But she hadn’t been expecting this. Matt at her door, holding a little package awkwardly wrapped in newspaper. The first birthday gift she’d received since college, since Matt. No one else had cared. And, after her death, Elektra expected that no one else would ever want to mark the occasion. “You didn’t have to do this, Matthew.”