#aside from the fact that y’know he’s her favorite and it shows

[thedevilsfamiliar]

Do you ever just, sit in silence and let your thoughts wander and suddenly you’re hit with sudden trauma you didn’t even know you had?

Tf am I supposed to do with this?

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

MY SUN AND STARS ARE U KIDDJNV MS TBAGS SO VAMPY ALSO THE OTHER ONE TOO U KNOW THE ONE

https://vm.tiktok.com/TTPd6o89DC/

What’s funny is that they would be in the middle of a really heated moment, both of them naked with Harry buried in mid-thrust, and she’d randomly pull back from their kiss with a wet smack and wild eyes, her expression full of panicked realization. “Oh my God, I forgot to take my pill.”

All of Harry’s motions come to a slow stop, and he sighs indifferently as he uses his shoulder to wipe the sweat trickling down his temples, sniffing emptily as he begins untangling himself from her embrace. “It’s fine, I have a back-up in my nightstand.”

Y/N blinks her hazy eyes up at him in floored shock. “You…have a back-up pack of my birth control in your nightstand?”

“Mm.” He shrugs one shoulder casually, shifting around underneath the covers to prop himself on his forearms accordingly, balancing over her with great care as to not crush her in the process. He reaches towards the little table beside his mattress, tugging the drawer open with a light huff and diving his hand inside blindly, relying on instincts to find what he’s searching for. “You spend half your time at my place anyway, so I figured I might as well. Better to be safe than sorry, y’know? And I have an extra bottle of water in here, too, for emergencies, though I’m sure you know how to dry swallow a pill, considering you’ve dry swallowed much bigger things than that.”

Y/N continues to stare up at him in blank surprise, so taken aback that she doesn’t even try to form a comeback to fend off his crude innuendo. Harry carries on rummaging through his belongings intently, and a few seconds later, he manages to pull out a small circular container with a plastic coating and familiar packaging. He pops a singular pill, bringing it up to his own mouth and parting his swollen lips, sticking out his tongue and placing the capsule at the very center. He drops the pack back inside the cabinet, shoving it closed as he quirks a sweaty eyebrow expectantly, his dimples carving into his flushed cheeks as her offers her the medication. “Go on, then. Take it.”

Y/N bats her lashes up at him dumbly yet again, her brain processing the unorthodox— yet oddly attractive— scene. The fact that he’d gone out of his way to somehow get his hands on her favorite brand of contraceptives is extremely sweet and arousing in a fashion she can’t possibly express in coherent terms; it shows just how much he cares for her, and how he has her well-being in mind, even when it slips her very own. But aside from that obvious factor, the manner in which he’s making himself a part of that usually pesky chore by feeding it to her himself…It makes the already-burning warmth between her thighs rise a couple of notches in intensity.

Harry smirks down at her with his signature sarcastic bite, his tone carrying the same exact energy as he talks attentively through his occupied mouth, his actions measured to avoid dropping the pill cradled on his tongue. The irony of his comment goes right over her head, but its suggestive inflictions work as intended, seen in how her thighs impulsively tighten around his torso. “I promise I won’t bite. Not yet, at least.”

Y/N swallows thickly, taking another second to appreciate the sight painted before her— the sight of his lean body suspended above her with his burly chest heaving and damp collarbones glistening in the moonlight, his shiny curls glued to his forehead and along the sides of his neck as he hovers his face an inch from hers, his cool breath cascading across her itching lips as he waits for her to take the pill from him through a filthy kiss. The corners of his mouth are crooked upwards in smug satisfaction, and the muscles of his broad shoulders strain beneath his golden skin as he maneuvers himself comfortably between her legs once more, waiting patiently for her to tune back into reality and answer his whims. He looks so fucking good, and she feels like she could finish just by looking at him.

One of Y/N’s hands fumbles up to grasp his defined jaw, her other arm tying around his neck as she yanks him in for a desperate kiss full of quiet moans and needy whimpers. Her noises weigh in watery and wispy as she expresses her gratitude towards his gift, and she nearly chokes on her syllables as she feels him hum a low whine onto her tongue, his eyes rolling back into his head as he gradually begins grinding into her once more. He passes the capsule over to her, and she wastes no time in downing it, wanting to remove any obstacles that could keep them from returning to their prior activities.

“Done?” He murmurs authoritatively, checking to make sure she’d finished the important task, considering it’s the premise of this entire interaction. Y/N nods obediently, which causes him to coo at her with proud fondness, and the praise he delivers makes every cell in her body burst with bliss. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

Her initial intentions are to say something tender in return, along the lines of, “Thank you for taking me into consideration, I really appreciate it.” or “You don’t have to do that for me, but I’m really grateful you did.”

What actually croaks out of her throat, however, is something much less eloquent and much more embarrassing. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

Harry sputters into giggles against her mouth, snaking his strong arms beneath her back so he can hold her in place as he works on regaining the tempo they’d had going before their momentary intermission. Their foreheads bump together as a result of his gradually accelerating pace, noses brushing and Cupid’s bows smearing as he gasps and grunts against her stinging lips. “Yeah? D’you mean it, or are you just saying that because I saved your ass?”

“I mean it.”

“I’m gonna need a little more reassurance than that.” He remarks arrogantly, coasting his palms down to grasp onto her backside, his fingertips leaving indents that she knows he’ll admire later. He uses that grip to rock her up against his thrusts, his exhales stuttering as he feels her wet clit slam repeatedly against his sensitive pelvis. “Tell me I’m a good boyfriend.”

Y/N’s head falls back onto the feathered pillows below, her jaw hinging open in silent pleasure as he stretches her out just right, the head of his cock teasing a certain spot only he’s ever been able to reach. “You’re such a good boyfriend, H.”

He grits his teeth as his balls slap against the curve of her ass, his spine shuddering as she drags her nails down his back without any remorse, leaving angry red scratches littered across its expanse. She suddenly tugs him closer harshly, and he just barely catches himself before he collapses on top of her, using his elbows to keep his stance intact. But when she licks at the beads of water spilling down his bobbing throat, the sound that rips from his chest in nearly enough to topple him all over again. “Christ, you’re fucking unbelievable. You’re so good at taking it, and giving it, and just— you’re just so fucking perfect, sweetheart. Can’t ever get enough of you.”

“Can’t ever get enough of giving you what you want.” She mumbles in a dreamy daze, her lips hot and sticky against his Adam’s Apple, and the warmth of her is nearly enough to drive him mad. She eyes him malleably, her gaze cloudy and electric all at once. “Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what you want.”

He props his chin atop the crown of her head and puffs his inhales out roughly through his nose, his stride sloppy and unforgiving as she clings to his waist shamelessly and cries his name over and over into the charged atmosphere of his bedroom. A drunken, open-mouthed grin buckles the tiny pits in his cheeks as the image of his headboard begins blurring in and out of vision, tears of overwhelmed desire soaking into his heavy lashes and squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. When he speaks, he doesn’t even try to hide the tremble running along the undercurrent of his demand. “I want you to tell me I feel good.”

Y/N hiccups the sentiment in the form of a broken trill, sighing it against the curve of his jugular. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Tell me—fucking hell.” A sharp mewl interrupts his sentence as Y/N bites into a particularly soft spot below his ear, and he has to screw his eyes shut to regain his composure, his lungs throttling and nostrils flaring as he keeps himself from spilling early. His accent comes out deeper than before, gravelly and teetering on the edge of a growl. “Tell me you don’t want anyone else but me.”

“Fuck, I—” Y/N wriggles beneath him as his rhythm becomes more brutal and dominant, her thighs quaking around his hips as he relentlessly fucks her into the bed. “I don’t— I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“‘No one else but you, Daddy.’” Harry trails down and nudges her cheekbone with the tip of his nose symbolically, brows furrowing as his irises overflow with a murky shade of emerald green, much more haunting than their usual olive hue. “Say it.”

“No one else but you, Daddy.”

“Again. Louder.” He ducks to the side, taking the shell of her ear between his lips and speaking through clenched teeth, his cadence smooth and refined like the smoke from a fresh bonfire. “Once I’m done with you, you’ll be sobbing that sentence until your throat goes sore. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. Now: Again. Louder.”

[lovely-keii]

From Us - Miya Atsumu

From Us Masterlist

“Welcome to From Us! A show where two past lovers come together and answer a series of questions! What happens when a pair of people who might still harbor feelings for each other come together?”

“Welcome back to From Us! As usual, I am Viv, your host of the show! Today, with us we have Miya Atsumu and Y/N L/N!”

Y/N: <dragging Atsumu by the ear> What do you mean you accidentally poured some chocolate in my drink?

Atsumu: I SPILLED IT! ON ACCIDENT!

Y/N: I’m Y/N! <lets go of Atsumu’s ear>

Atsumu: <rubbing his ear> I’m Atsumu.

[How did you two meet?]

Atsumu: High school.

Y/N: I was project partners with Osamu, his twin. So then, I had to come over to their place and that’s where I met Atsumu. He strated flirting with me ever since then.

Atsumu: You make me sound obsessed with you.

Y/N: Were you not?

[How did you two know you loved each other?]

Atsumu: She kept up with me.

Y/N: You’re not as difficult as you think, y’know.

Atsumu: Kita said I was problematic and Kita is never wrong.

Y/N: Yeah, but you’re not too much. Also, for me, it just happened. I have no idea when or why I started liking him. I just did.

[How did the first kiss happen?]

Y/N: He just went up to me and bam.

Atsumu: In front of Osamu. <grinning>

Y/N: <sighs>

[How did you two start dating?]

Y/N: He asked me on a date.

Atsumu: Surprisingly, she said yes.

Y/N: It was actually really nice and we just started dating since then.

-in a separate room by yourself-

[What is one thing you never got to tell him?]

Y/N: That he was the most talented man I’d ever seen. I know that he gets insecure a lot and it hurts me to see how much he tries to keep it in.

[Why did you date him?]

Y/N: Because all jokes and tricks aside, he’s the most caring, kindest guy I know. He really tries to make people feel better and he can be an idiot sometimes, but he really just has best intentions in mind.

-in a separate room by himself-

[What is one thing you never got to tell her?]

Atsumu: I really, actually, sincerely loved. I never told her that I was completely serious about every “I love you” I would tell her.

[Why did you date her?]

Atsumu: Because I liked her? And she liked me. So I dated her. Duh.

[What’s something the both of you always did, just the two of you?]

Y/N: He used to ask me to steal some of Osamu’s food.

Atsumu: We would make these super genius plans.

Y/N: G e n i u s.

[What’s your favorite memory with them?]

Atsumu: I don’t think I have a favorite? Maybe the coca cola accident. I wanted to try the thing where you drop a mentos in a coca cola bottle and it just goes boom. 

Y/N: That might also be my favorite, aside from the fact that he sprayed me with cola.

[The thing you loved the most about them?]

Y/N: He was fun to be with. Mentally draining, but nonetheless, fun to be around.

Atsumu: She was cool.

Y/N: What?

Atsumu: Like, she wasn’t all up in my face about me doing dumb things.

[How did you feel about each other before this?]

Y/N: I was nervous. Like sweaty hands nervous.

Atsumu: I was nervous but also like really excited.

[How do you feel now?]

Y/N: Kinda stupid. Like why the hell was I nervous again?

Atsumu: Because you were scared that you would be blinded by my beauty.

Y/N: Oh my god. <chuckle> Just answer the qeustion.

Atsumu: Great! Like I feel great!

[How were fights like?]

Y/N: We’re both too stubborn to apologize.

Atsumu: End of story.

[How did you break up?]

Atsumu: Riiight.

Y/N: The inevitable question.

Atsumu: Big fight.

Y/N: Really, really big.

[Are you willing to try again?]

Y/N: I mean...

Atsumu: I guess I am, if you’re up for it. I don’t want to drag you into anything.

Y/N: I want to. But let’s try to do things different this time?

Atsumu: Yeah.

“It’s been two months since Atsumu and Y/N’s episode here, let’s see what they’re up to now!”

[How are you guys?]

Y/N: He sprained his ankle. Go on, tell them why. <visible amusement and dissapointment>

Atsumu: I tried to fight an alley cat.

Y/N: Why?

Atsumu: It was grey and not yellow. Like Osamu. Not me.

Y/N: Then?

Atsumu: I fell on my face and it ran away.

Taglist: [Closed]

@honeyr4ven​  @piershoesz​​​  @strawberry-mentos-dreams​ @hq-girl-next-door​ @nachotrash​ @erinoikawa​ @floofi-mochich1 @auror-lovie​ @crayonwriting​ @tchalameme​​​ @yatoatyourservice​ @cherry-cake-pies​ @crapimahuman​ @peteunderoos​ @xxsilverwingxx​ @hiraeth-z​

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.14--Episodes 8-9

I have watched through S2E9; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—I only had to wait 3 episodes. Belle and Rumplestiltskin have gone out for burgers. (They did not, however, eat the burgers. You know, world-saving, life-or-death interruptions. The usual.)

—I require Ariel content. She’s been mentioned twice, but I haven’t seen hide or red hair of her yet. And although I’m sure I could write loads about why OG!Ariel bothers me, she also has good qualities that I think OUAT would handle well.

—The Queen of Hearts has gorgeous clothes.

—That being said, I’m terribly disappointed that she turned out to be Cora. Let me preface it by saying, it makes sense, and I understand why they did it. However…I love Wonderland. It’s one of my favorite childrens’ stories (not to mention a historically significant one) and it’s also one of my favorite Disney movies. I would’ve truly loved a Queen of Hearts who was just the Queen of Hearts in this show. She probably would’ve been amazing. She may even have been the noble warrior queen I want some depiction of her to be. I wish we had gotten that. Also, I despite Cora with a vengeance, and I would rather the Queen of Hearts were a villain I could love.

—Y’know, I think sapphism would be a much more compelling motivator than pining after some bland-ass semi-dead guy. Also, Mulan deserves to be in a queer relationship, because the original Disney Mulan is one of the most accidentally queer movies I’ve ever had the fortune to behold. And another also, Philip has 0% personality. Mulan should be with an interesting person.

—What I’m trying to say is, Mulan gave Aurora back her heart. Mulan is protecting the heck out of Aurora. Aurora doesn’t get along with anybody but Mulan. Mulan and Aurora should go have some sapphic adventures together and forget about Philip.

—I kind of want Rumplestiltskin and Regina to be petty frenemies together now. Like, they can barely stand each other, but they still throw some shade on everybody else’s business. Maybe they sit back-to-back in different booths at Granny’s, so they can plausibly deny that they’re hanging out.

—I don’t feel sorry for Regina, but I loathe her less. Emma and Snow should’ve let her come to dinner with them.

—Way to flip the narrative! I love that Snow had to save Charming the same way he saved her. Their relationship is filled to the brim with reciprocity, so it really works for them.

—The beating sound in Cora’s heart vault gives me anxiety.

—I guess the other acceptable outcome for Mulan and Aurora (yep, back on it) is a lovely little polycule with Philip. If they insist on both being in love with him, while having possibly the most chemistry of any two characters that aren’t Snow and Charming, then that’s what they should do.

—My relationship status with Hook is currently love-hate. He’s not an evil person, necessarily, but on the other hand he’s a sneaky jerk *and* he’s trying to kill Rumplestiltskin. It’s complicated.

—Red looked lovely as usual in episode 9. I don’t always like her clothes—mostly because some of them look uncomfortable—but her red flannel, and her fluffy dark red jacket, and her jewelry are all gorgeous. Also, she has strong facial features, and she’s really pretty.

—Pricking Charming with the spinning wheel was cool. Does the curse travel from the needle into him, or is it still on the needle, too? If so, is there a magical decontamination process?

—Belle finally got to wear some yellow. The dress was pretty, too.

—Emma’s heart being unstealable is probably cliche, but I love it anyway. Especially because she’s surprised about it.

—Rump hiding the squid ink on that note was some real smart planning.

—Did Hook kill the last giant? He didn’t say that he did outright, but the fact that he had the magic bean kind of implies that he did. Shame on him.

Bit of an aside, but my dinner tonight was a wine-based beef stew and horseradish dumplings, and I absolutely believe that’s the kind of food Rumplestiltskin would enjoy eating. (Who knows, maybe it’s the kind of food he would cook for Belle.)

[s1utspeare]

DID SOMEONE SAY BODY LANGUAGE COMPARISON???

I heard the sweet, dulcet tones of acting meta on this post and could not resist her call, so @xcziel, @foxofninetales, this one is for you.

THE LIU CHANG DMBJ CHARACTER META: WANG CAN vs LIU SANG

So first of all lemme just say I love these bitches, and what’s interesting about Liu Chang is that he plays them on opposite ends. There’s not much he can do about the fact that, y’know, he’s the same-ass person, but there are some very distinct differences between Liu Sang and Wang Can, which we will be talking about now.

Liu Sang photo cred: @foxofninetales

Wang Can photo cred: @xcziel

Jiang Wu photo cred: me screenshotting @xia-xueyi’s Moonfall Echo subs (ep. 13)

PART ONE: BODY LINES

I’ve talked about body lines before! But now we get to look at it from the same actor in two different characters! As a recap, straight lines are strong, sturdy, confident, and straightforward; curved lines are weaker, but more interesting and more dynamic.

For example!!

We got our bitch Wang Can here!! This is our first look at this slimy man, and look! He’s like a square!!! All straight lines, all ups and downs. Him body a square!! The costume people also do a great job of boxing him up bc of the tailoring of his jacket, and the two neutral color palette. There’s no embellishments, no decor. This is a straightforward man!! He’s not hiding anything except exactly how much of a bitch he is

(Also notice that his hands are showing and in fists. This will be important in a minute.)

Next, we have our favorite boy Liu Sang, showing up for the first time (ignore the differences in angles):

Oho! He’s a curvy motherfucker!! Aside from the fact that his clothes are now tailored correctly to demonstrate his natural curves, this mans is also curving himself! His arms! Are loose! And bent!! His head and neck aren’t nearly as emphasized! And! AND!!!! His hands are in his fucjing POCKEEETTTSSS. That indicates FURTIVENESS! That indicates MYSTERY! We’re going to find some things OUT about this boy and we’re gonna like it!!!

In comparison, look at Jiang Wu:

LIU CHANG U BEAUTIFUL BITCH. He fucking BENT HIS ARM. He kept one straight and BENT THE OTHER!!! Oh joyous occasion!! We have a DYNAMIC BOY!! but not too dynamic—peep that hidden hand! Also I love this bc it was TWO DIFFERENT LIU CHANG CHARACTERS IN THE SAME SHOW!!! :D see!! Here’s Liu Sang again!

THIS IS A CONFIDENT LIU SANG!!!! He is CHANGED! He is capable of expressing emotions now! Look at just how much body language he has going on, while in comparison, Jiang Wu and Wang Can are like creepy Wood Baby Puppets. His body shape is boxy again, but that’s bc he’s the protagonist of this one. The plot hinges on him, he’s gotta be sturdy.

WHAT WE HAVE DETERMINED SO FAR:

Wang Can is straight lines, no hidden agenda (which is funny cause he’s a Bad Guy)

Liu Sang is dynamic lines and movement, and alludes to mysterious ✨secrets✨

Jiang Wu is a mix of the two and also a dumb dork (that’s not from the body language, I just think he’s funny)

PART TWO: HAIR, BABY!

Once again I owe my life to costuming people. Someday I’ll write that Mystic Nine costuming meta but today we’re focusing on Liu Chang and, specifically, his HAIR PEOPLE!!! I love them and would die for them literally

Once again, ladies and gentlemen and all my glorious they/thems, Wang Can:

OOOOOH I hate his slimy RAT FACE lemme AT EM. Ahem. Regardless, let’s take a look at this BITCH, shall we? We have: straight line face angles!! Very standard shape, BUT this is all accented by the fact that his hair is S C R A P E D back to within an inch of its life, like. Ahem. Sir. Please. Also this man’s got CONTOUR on. If u look at literally any pics/videos of Liu Chang out of character he is NOT this angular. His head is just as rectangular as his body, and the pulled back hair emphasizes his face, which is interesting as he doesn’t do a whole lot with it.

Alternatively, Liu Sang:

This is a nice boy!!! This is a nice soft boy!!! Look his face has CURVES that are emphasized by the glasses (which also draw attention to his eyes, which is good bc that’s where he does the most work, which we’ll get to later) and the HAIR!!! His hair is soft!! It’s flowy! It’s curvy! He conditions!!! This boy is approachable and will Not shoot you One Million Times with a Machine Gun. This also works with the Liu Sang Signature Ponytail, as he leaves thick-enough bang pieces out to also give the illusion of curves around his face. Also his nose and cheekbones are NOT as strongly contoured, so the angularity of his face is softened as well

WHAT WE HAVE DETERMINED SO FAR

dmbj hair and makeup people were doing the absolute most

Wang Can’s hair gives us the most access to The Face, giving him a slick, straight look, and also something else which we will discuss next

Liu Sang is Soft and Curved bc of the hair and glasses, primarily

Oh speaking of fucking which you know who else is soft??? Huang Junjie. That’s the softest man I have ever seen. His xiaoge is my favorite bc it’s perfectly believable that he’s Butter Inside based solely on his Cheeks (again, it’s the hair people doing the Lord’s work)

PART THREE: IT’S ALL IN THE FACE

The face is the actor’s best friend, and Liu Chang definitely uses his well. We know him as being sort of stoic, more on the Xiao-Ge end of things than the Wu Xie side, but if u compare Liu Sang to Wang Can, LS is going HAM with the facials.

Let’s take a look!

Fuck me UP!!!!!! Look at him!! This is one of the earlier episodes too so we haven’t even gotten to the real good stuff but!!!! Look at his eyebrows!!! Look at how wide his eyes get (once again, the glasses are jumbotroning the peepers)! Look at his unhappy lil mouth!! That’s a whole REALM of facial expression, and so early on in our journey!

Meanwhile, Fuckboy Prime:

(Pardon the garbage screencap, my laptop broke on me this week and I am Suffering)

This is at the very end of Wang Can’s time with us; he’s fighting and he’s going to die and he KNOWS it, but this bitch doesn’t even draw his eyebrows together. Mcwhomst???? Bitch u GOTTA give us more than that I’m BEGGING u

The other interesting thing about their differing facial expressions is that Liu Sang emotes mostly with his eyes, and Wang Can emotes mostly with his mouth. This is very obvious in the clip @xcziel posted, esp when he starts doing the whole gesturing-with-his-chin thing, but it’s prominent throughout.

These two screenshots were taken like fifteen seconds apart. He does a whole face journey, but only with his mouth. His eyes stay fixed; they move, sure, but they don’t get any wider or anything like that.

Liu Sang, however is always doing stuff with his eyes. For example (I couldn’t find an image of it quick enough but I know that @kholran has this gifset), the sacrifice scene where he looks up at Wu Xie with the biggest, most pleading and questioning eyes imaginable?? Kills me. The DEPTH in those bad boys. Fuck me UP.

This also checks out when we remember the glasses. Since they emphasize the eyes, we’re drawn to that part of Liu Sang’s face, so it makes sense that the majority of his expression would happen there. This is also prominent with his hearing abilities; whenever he’s trying to focus them (or get us to focus on him), he not only turns his eyes away, he SHUTS THEM, which means we as the audience know that there’s something going on underneath the surface, and really highlights the fact that this is an unusual and cool power!

With Wang Can, however, the structure of his face and absence of Hair Curves directs the eye to his mouth, so we watch that to tell what’s going on in his head. It’s all about directing the eye, and Liu Chang is very good at knowing where people are going to be looking!

SO: WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED?

Liu Sang, Wang Can, and Jiang Wu are all very distinctly characterized through their body language

The same actor becomes different characters by using their toolkit (the body) to its full potential

Hair and makeup people are Wizards

Wang Can is a Whole-Ass Ho and I do not miss him even a little bit

Liu Sang’s body dynamics change over time and I love that for him!!

I’m a giant nerd the end

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Alt Ending, Part 5

Hot take but finals kinda suck

First part

Previous part

Next part

Tag: @solangelo252

You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.

But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.

(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)

Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.

Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.

“Timmy,” she chirped.

He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.

“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”

She didn’t let go. “You need to.”

“Don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”

“And I do!”

She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).

“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”

“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”

“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.

“I’m also literally dead.”

“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”

Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”

He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.

She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”

“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”

She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.

She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.

Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.

Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…

She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.

Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.

She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.

No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.

She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.

At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.

~

She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.

Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…

“Where’s Cass?”

His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”

Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…

She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.

On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.

On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.

Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.

She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.

Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?

She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.

“Duke…”

He pressed pause on the show.

“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”

There was a beat.

“Why do you ask?”

She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”

“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”

She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”

“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.

She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.

There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.

It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.

“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.

Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.

“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”

There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.

Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.

~

She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.

The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.

Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...

She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.

She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.

He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.

She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.

“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.

He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”

“Lower. I was being nice.”

Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.

“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”

He only laughed at her.

Despite herself, she gave him a smile.

She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”

He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”

Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a while as they stretched.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”

She could feel his gaze on her.

“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”

There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.

She cringed.

“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”

“Mari!”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”

She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.

He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”

Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.

“You’re the best.”

“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”

She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”

“Can I get that as my ringtone?”

“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

~

The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.

She froze.

Bruce?

No. No way. There was no way in hell.

But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.

Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…

Oh. Oh shit.

Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.

Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.

Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…

“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.

“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.

She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…

Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?

Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.

He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.

She hesitated.

It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…

Fuck.

Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.

“Fake.”

The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.

He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.

But then it didn’t do either of those things.

Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.

He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.

“The fuck?”

“Language,” he chided lightly.

She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”

“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.

(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)

Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.

“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”

~

She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.

It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.

It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.

“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.

He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.

She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.

Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…

She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.

“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”

She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.

Heh. Little light particles with little knives.

Wait.

Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?

She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.

“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.

~

Marinette woke up a while later.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.

Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?

Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.

In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.

Oh? This was nice.

A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.

She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...

But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?

She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.

The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?

And she was being held down because the door was wide open.

Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…

And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.

What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…

Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.

~

Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.

Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.

~

When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.

This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.

She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.

Huh? Video game?

She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?

Wild.

“You’re finally up.”

She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.

“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”

She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.

“Gonna elaborate on that?”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”

“You know we never will know for sure, right?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.

“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.

“Do you care?”

“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”

She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.

“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”

“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.

She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”

“Unfortunate.”

She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.

She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He clicked his tongue again.

She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”

Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Only if you let me play.”

He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.

She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.

“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.

“I can listen and play.”

Damian sighed a little and shook his head.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”

“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”

~

Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.

First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.

Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.

“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”

“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.

She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”

“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.

“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”

(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)

Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”

“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”

She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”

“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”

Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.

But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.

Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.

She really couldn’t tell.

She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.

Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?

Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.

“What’s going on?”

“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.

Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.

She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.

She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.

… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.

Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…

Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.

She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.

And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.

They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.

She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.

She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.

She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.

She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.

She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.

She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.

“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Damian scoffed.

Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.

Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.

After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.

One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.

They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).

She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.

“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.

They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.

“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”

The silence spoke volumes.

She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”

Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.

“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”

Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”

“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”

Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.

Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”

Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.

She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.

~

She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).

She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.

Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.

~

She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.

Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.

“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”

Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.

Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”

“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.

“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.

Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Oh. Good.”

“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.

Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”

“... yes. Very.”

The four lapsed into silence after that.

Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.

But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.

But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.

Green water. That apparently hurts.

Acid.

“FUCK.”

Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.

“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”

Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,

“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”

“It’s not about that --!”

Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.

“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”

Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.

“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”

And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.

[kbstories]

noodle soup (a little KRBK sick fic)

The squad thought they knew their beloved Blasty was a bit of a feral-type mom friend… until Kirishima got sick from one day to the next, and they witnessed the full extent of how overbearing a worried Bakugou can be. At first Kirishima plays up the whining because, well, he’s sick and that sucks, and hogging Bakugou’s attention is nice and makes everything suck less.

It’s a tactical mistake.

Suddenly, absolutely nobody is allowed close to Kirishima ("Or d’ya fools wanna get sick too, hah?!"). Kirishima’s room becomes a biohazard zone guarded by 1-A’s very own Dynamight akin to Cerberus at the gates of hell.

The thing is: Kirishima is still allowed to do everything he wants. He gets away with demanding hugs (even if Bakugou pointedly leans his masked face away when they snuggle up), or marathon his favorite TV series Bakugou insists actively kills braincells. When Kirishima wakes up coughing and groaning miserably, Bakugou is there to force some cold medicine on him as well as the home-made broth that happens to have those noodle letters Kirishima not-so-secretly finds delightful.

It’s fun until it gets a little claustrophobic. Kirishima is used to working out daily, and hanging out with most of 1-A in some shape or form throughout the week. Being locked in his room is making him antsy in a way that even the virus wreaking havoc on his body can’t dispel.

"Bakuuu", goes Kirishima on day three. "You know I love you, right bro? And that hanging out for all eternity is like, manly as hell—"

Bakugou’s eyes narrow over his mask. He aggressively folds a wet towel and shoves it — deceptively gentle — against Kirishima’s brow. "But?"

"I miss the others, dude! Have you seen Denks blowing up the group chat? This is giving him separation anxiety and stuff."

"Sparks isn’t a fucking dog, he can deal."

"And what about Mina? She needs our combined intel or her gossip operation will suffer!"

"Gossip?! I don’t gossip, you do."

"Fine but like, Sero—"

"Just say you’re tired of me and go!"

Only when Bakugou yells those words does Kirishima realize he’s been actually keeping his voice down when around him. And sure, Kirishima’s aching head had appreciated that — the volume is all the more jarring now.

"Huh?!"

With a glare, Bakugou puts pressure on the towel until Kirishima gets the memo and holds it himself, watching the other get to his feet and start to pace.

"Or— Fucking don’t, your stupid ass is still sick. I’m going. You stay in that bed, Kirishima Eijirou, or so help me—"

Kirishima sputters, "But, dude! I meant like, letting the squad in, not— I wouldn’t get tired of you, I don’t think I can."

"Save it", hisses Bakugou, whirling around on his way out. "Fuck you! And there’s lunch in your mini fridge!"

Then he’s gone.

Continuing to dutifully hold the towel to his too-hot face, Kirishima gapes at his closed door. It takes him a good minute or two to one-handedly text the others not to cross Bakugou’s path.

Then he sits in the sudden silence and misses his best friend.

*

Bakugou stays away for the duration of Kirishima’s sick leave.

It’s a little dramatic, admittedly, especially because (a) they live next to each other, and (b) food seems to magically appear at Kirishima’s doorstep for every meal. His bro is sneaky when he wants to be, though, so Kirishima knows it’s pointless to try and catch him in the act, or even attempt an apology.

(That doesn’t stop him from doing it anyways or from hoping he’ll succeed, of course.)

Guilt keeps Kirishima from using his new-found freedom for anything other than watching TV, finding the comfort lacking even from episodes he knows by heart.

By the time he’s back on his feet, Kirishima has a plan to hunt down the ever-elusive Bakugou and clear things up. And by 'plan' he totally means camping out in front of Bakugou’s room until he shows up. So what if Kirishima is feeling a bit wobbly from residue sickness? He’s a man on a mission, and once Kirishima has made up his mind about something, there is no turning back.

Even when the Bakugou that finally shows up around midnight is looking about as exhausted as he feels. Leaving the fact aside that it’s hours past Bakugou’s bedtime, he looks… weirdly subdued. In actuality, he doesn’t even seem to realize that Kirishima is on the floor, back against Bakugou’s door, until Kirishima pipes up with an uncertain:

"Bakubro?"

Bakugou damn-near startles, blinking and letting his gaze roam until it falls on him. The immediate frown that follows makes Kirishima wince. Yup, alright, Bakugou is still pissed.

"The fuck d’you want?" asks Bakugou in the same moment Kirishima offers, "You good, man?"

Another awkward moment of staring. Kirishima gets up to level the playing field a bit, the elaborate speech he’d thought up blown away by how hazy Bakugou’s eyes are. Oh no.

"You look a bit pale there, Kats. Sure you’re feeling alright?"

"Fine", comes the predictable reply. Bakugou shoves Kirishima aside with half the force he usually would and okay, uncharted territory here.

Because Bakugou definitely caught the virus from Kirishima.

"How about we, dunno, skip the part where you pretend I didn’t manage to get you sick and you let me help you out too?"

There’s hope in Kirishima’s voice. In retaliation, Bakugou’s glare is double as venomous (even if his flushed cheeks maintain a certain softness there too).

"How about you go hang out with the rest of the idiots and leave me alone?"

Yikes. Kirishima shuffles on the spot a little, "You didn’t deny it, though", wanting to reach out but kind of enjoying having un-exploded limbs, as well.

"Kirishima."

Hrghh, definitely still hurt, too. Kirishima whines and leans against the frame of Bakugou’s door, not standing in his way but not letting him go without a fight, either.

"I’m sorry, bro, seriously, I am! I didn’t mean to complain when you were working so hard. Didn’t mean to sound like I don’t appreciate you having my back, either, but I did and just… Couldn’t ask for a better friend, y’know? You being all overprotective about me and stuff, I’m really honored!"

"Kirishima", Bakugou grits out.

Kirishima grins. "Just tellin' the truth."

Huffing out, "I’ll show you truth", Bakugou scowls at this own threat. Probably not murder-y enough. "Whatever. You done? I’m fuckin’ beat."

The worry in Kirishima’s heart returns with a vengeance. Bakugou, openly admitting he’s tired? He must be feeling pretty bad already.

"Okay, yeah, I’m letting you sleep. Just— Lemme get you some of those pills before you do? And like. I’m totally bringing you breakfast in bed, Kats, just a heads-up!"

That gets a scoff out of Bakugou, undeniably amused. "Do me a favor and don’t burn anything, will ya?"

Kirishima beams at the unspoken go-ahead, saluting before rushing to grab the meds Bakugou got him not too long ago. There’s no way he won’t ace this rare chance of taking care of Bakugou.

He learned from the best, after all.

[thiswasinevitableid]

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue�� Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

[ceterisparibus116]

Daredevil scenes / plot points you would have done differently? (I get a suspicion a lot of them have to do with the law stuff, Frank Castle's trial especially. 😉 )

Aaaaa I love this question! Warning: VERY long response:

DEFINITELY the Frank Castle trial. Man, it could’ve been SO GOOD. I have a lot of issues with it, obviously, but the main one is that Matt treating Frank as a hostile witness could’ve been amazing (character-driven, emotionally-charged, also at times hilarious), and we were ROBBED.

 I also wish Matt could’ve been involved in more trial prep. The show makes it seem almost like Matt’s skill is limited to courtroom antics, but charisma and the ability to think on your feet in the courtroom mean next to nothing if you haven’t laid a foundation with good legal research and legal writing. I would’ve loved it if the legal plotlines showed us more of that. Like, you know Matt and Karen’s date night in S2 where she helps him come up with witness questions? I would’ve loved it if: a) they’d gotten, like, ANY part of that scene correct from a legal standpoint, and b) if we could’ve gotten MORE. I know that kind of thing might seem boring, but I don’t think it would be. You can really show off characters’ personalities in that kind of environment, and then the audience gets the reward of seeing that hard work pay off at trial.

 Speaking of, I know we’ve talked before about S3 splitting everyone up. I still think that could’ve maybe been worth it if we’d gotten a S4 where we could see how everyone learned from how disastrous the S3 isolation was, but without S4, everyone’s isolation in S3 is really unfortunate. I would’ve loved to see Nelson, Murdock, and Page working together for at least half of the season, instead of just the last 3-ish episodes. It would’ve been fascinating to watch, since Matt would still not be in a great headspace, and Karen would still be hurt, and Foggy would be just Trying To Deal with his idiot best friends. (But since we don’t have that, at least we have my S3 canon-divergent retelling thing: Take A Deep Breath – shameless plug.)

 I also would’ve generally kept the stakes lower in S2 and S3. I think you agree with me that both seasons would’ve been more powerful if we’d had more lower-level villains. But one of my favorite things about S1 is that we get to know the people who are at stake. Unlike in the Avengers where it’s just “the world” or “New York” or something, S1 showed us a little boy who wanted to go back to his dad, and Elena, and that one juror who was being exploited, and Melvin, and even a bad guy like Vladimir, and they’re ALL sympathetic. We really understand who Matt’s fighting for, but with the exception of Grotto, Jasper Evans, and Julie Barnes, I don’t feel like we really get that in S2 and S3.

 Related: our S2 ninjas needed a clearer motivation. (That goes for Defenders, too.) Imo, they needed personal stakes. Fisk’s mission to clean up Hell’s Kitchen was personal. Frank’s mission to take out bad guys was personal. Everything about Elektra was personal. Dex’s desperate attempt to find a place for himself and find people who care about him was VERY personal. But the Hand? Not personal at all.

 With Elektra…I’m torn. Part of me really wishes Matt could’ve told her no and maintained his boundaries all along, because a) I hate love-triangle-type drama and drama that could be resolved if people just stopped keeping secrets, and b) it would’ve been so refreshing to see the femme fatal trope subverted, and c) it would’ve given Elektra more agency. That being said…that might be veering too far away from comics canon. Matt is canonically a disaster with relationships, and he and Elektra have this whole…epic…magnetic…thing. I personally would argue that the show isn’t beholden to the canon in this specific way, but I can see how people would be upset if Matt and Elektra hadn’t turned out the way they did in S2.

 I would’ve liked Marci to have a smidge more character development. She was so sweet and supportive in S3and I don’t…quite…know where that came from? Oh, well.

 Speaking of character development: I wish Matt and Foggy could’ve had some real conversations. Aside from when Foggy found Matt at the gym in S1 and they talked about moving forward, I don’t feel like they had deep conversations that weren’t arguments. Matt’s S3 apology is good, but I would’ve loved to see Foggy apologize for how he contributed to the problems in their friendship. I also wish we could’ve seen Foggy explicitly thank Matt for, y’know…SAVING HIS LIFE.

 As for Karen, I wish her revelation scene to Matt had been more about HER. It says a lot about how selfless she is that she used her own pain to try to convince Matt not to kill Fisk. But even though I know Matt’s super depressed and everything, I would’ve loved to see him put his own angsty issues aside for a sec and just be there for his friend and the woman he loves. Even the fact that she is the one who crosses the room to be close to him is telling; he should’ve gone over to her when she started crying and been there for her.

 Although if I’m talking about Matt’s romantic relationships, I wouldn’t have minded if the show went a Clairedevil route. Although that would require A LOT. I do wish, if I’m being really fanciful, that we could’ve seen Claire in S3. Or, at minimum, seen Matt and Claire interact in Defenders.

 FATHER LANTOM TELLING MATT THAT GUILT IS A SIGN THAT HIS WORK IS NOT DONE. I cannot with that scene. I love Father Lantom, but that? Really? I mean, I get it. That’s a common way that Catholic doctrine is interpreted, and it’s what Matt basically wants to hear anyway, but it is SUCH a dangerous thing to tell Matt (and I feel like Father Lantom should’ve known that???) and it’s also, as I understand it, not even the technically correct Catholic interpretation of guilt. Like, that’s literally not what guilt is or how it’s supposed to work. (Although who knows. I’m not Catholic, and as I understand it, Catholics themselves vary a lot in their interpretations of doctrine. So idk.) If I were writing that scene, I would definitely not have written Father Lantom to say that.

 On the religious theme, I wish S3 had circled back to Matt’s original objections related to the book of Job. He gets quite a few things wrong in his recap, and I’m not sure if Maggie didn’t correct him because she didn’t know better, or because she didn’t think a Biblical literacy lecture was what he needed at the moment, OR because the writers couldn’t be bothered to read the book. (In fairness…it’s a long and complicated book. But they couldn’t have been bothered to read a commentary on it?) I wish S3 had not stopped at giving Matt an abstract tapestry analogy to heal his faith when it also should’ve addressed his specific complaints.

I wish we’d had more time to see Matt and Maggie repair their relationship, or start to. And I wish she’d hugged him at Literally Any Point.

I wish the whole Matt-hallucinating thing had been clearer. Was he actually hallucinating? Or was that just his internal monologue manifested through other characters? If he was hallucinating, did he just...stop? Is he not freaked out about that? What was going on????

Oh, and if only they could’ve gotten Dex’s psychological diagnosis right.

 Other than that, there are a couple scenes that I feel like drag on way too long (S3 especially has an odd amount of monologues that generally strike me as OOC anyway—except with Fisk; he’s just Like That) but I don’t want to go into all of them. It would be hypocritical, given how long this reply is. :P

 So yeah, I think I’ll stop there, although I’m sure there’s more, haha. Thank you again for the ask and the excuse to ramble about Daredevil! I look forward to your thoughts as well.

[fredweesleyismyslut]

No More Secrets - Tim Drake x reader

A/N:  One of my many interests is reading comic books sometimes and in middle school I got really into the robins and batman, so this is me living out my fantasy of dating my favorite by writing Tim Drake fanfic haha.  Anyways, twas also written at 12am like most of my writings nowadays because apparently I like writing when I’m running on 3 hours of sleep and 2 cups of coffee at night.  So, before I ramble more I’m gonna stop here, so I hope you enjoy this and have a good whatever it is where you live/whenever you’re reading this and if it’s not good it’ll get better!  Byeeeee!

Staring at the clock, it felt as if it was mocking you, ticking the seconds away as you waited for your boyfriend to show.  Muttering under your breath you said to yourself, “Of course he’s a no show.”  You had prepared dinner for him at home, it was your two year anniversary and you had a surprise for him.  Sighing you ran your hand through your hair, looking at your phone the last time that Tim had texted you back, you texted one last time, Hey, babe.  I’m gonna head to bed it’s getting late.  Before he could text back or call you turned your phone off, done for the night, not wanting to be bothered.  Tim Drake, your boyfriend, was somehow always busy and missed all your dates, and now he’s missed your anniversary.  It wouldn’t have been a big deal if it wasn’t for the fact that, yet again, he’s missed more than half the dates you’ve ever been on.  I mean you probably hang out with his brothers more than he hangs out with you.  You can count more than once that Dick, his older brother, had come out and eaten dinner with you instead because you had made reservations and Tim couldn’t make it.  Groaning you stretched, allowing the air to be released from your joints as you stood up and ignored the dishing, promising yourself you would wash them the next morning.  

The next morning, you heard the doorbell ringing, someone was nonstop ringing the bell as you finally jolted from the bed, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”  Opening the door, you questioned, “Why are you ringing the doorbell like a madman at 6am?!”  Wiping the grogginess from your eyes, you focused, “Oh, Tim.  Hey, what’s up?”  You stood at the door, as you continued, “I thought it was the kids next door, they usually come over for breakfast since their mom leaves early.”  He nodded as he shuffled his hands together, as he smiled softly, “Can I come in?”  You nodded, moving aside, as he walked past you, “I’m sorry.” was the first thing that came out of his mouth as soon as he made it in, “I didn’t mean to ditch you last night, I was-”  You cut him off quickly, eyes shooting holes into him, you swear if looks could kill...he’d already be dead.  “Oh, let me guess, you were busy, just like every other time.”  You scoffed softly, as you went over to get water, “Let me guess again, you bailed because last-minute your neighbor’s house burned down and you had to go save everyone?”  Tim frowned softly,  “Y/n, baby, I promise it’ll never happen again.”  You rolled your eyes softly, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Timmy.”  His hand reached for yours as you quickly pulled away, as if his hand was made from fire, “Be honest with me Tim, are you just not interested anymore?”  you moved to the far corner and crossed your arms over your chest as if protecting your heart from hurt, “In the two years we’ve been together I can count maybe three times that we’ve had a date where you didn’t bail last minute.  I mean what is going on, did you just have fun playing with me?”  Tim’s face turned into one of appalling, “I would never y/n, you know that.”  “Do I?  Honestly, at this point I don’t know whether I’m dating you or your brothers.  I’ve been on more dates with them where they haven’t bailed than dates with you.”  Tim opened his mouth to reply but quickly closed it, instead walking closer, “Darling, please, just listen.”  You flinched at his touch, as you pulled away, trying to keep your voice in control you took a deep breath.  “Did you ever even love me, Tim?”  He flinched at those words as his voice took on a pleading tone, “Babe, you mean the world to me you know that.  Please don’t do this.”  You shook your head, “I can’t do this anymore.  This whole wondering if you love me, wondering if you’re not showing up because I’m not enough.”  You choked back a sob as you pointed to the door, “Get out.”  Tim tried to step closer before you shouted, “Get the hell out, Drake!”  His face clouded with hurt at your words and the use of his last name, as he slowly walked out, but before he did he left a small box on the counter.  You walked up to it slowly, opening it to find a necklace with a ring attached to it.  You felt tears sting your eyes as you quickly went to calm your thoughts before work.

After work, you were walking back home when you heard a child crying in one of the alleys.  You thought to yourself, Maybe someone else will help…, but as you thought that guilt crept into your head and you quickly turned around heading in the direction of the sound.  Was it an incredibly stupid idea to go into an alley in Gotham, especially by yourself, yes but if there really was a child in need you had to help.  Quickly rounding the corner, you looked around not seeing a child anywhere, “What the hell….” you muttered to yourself as you walked in deeper.  Breath quickening as you stepped further in, you felt a sharp sting in the back of your head as your knees buckled.  Your head stung and you felt something trickling down the back of your head, ears ringing and vision going fuzzy.  You looked up, seeing a large man standing over you with a bat in his hand, “Told ya it’d lure her in…” he said, looking at someone in the corner, as a voice responded, “Couldn’t help yourself huh?  You just had to be a hero.”  Wincing at the pain in your head, you tried to say something but all that left your mouth was a pained groan, as the man atop you was about to grab your shoulder something whizzed past your vision as the man whirled around shouting in pain.  Whatever it was, it had grazed his arm and he was bleeding slightly, as he glanced around, holding his bat tightly.  From somewhere behind you there was a loud thud as the man in front of you yelled, “Hey, who are you?!”  A figure dressed in red ran past you as the two started fighting.  The one in the red suit was gliding around as if he was a butterfly, gracefully avoiding the man’s blows, and throwing his own blows that hit the man each time. 

 Soon, the fight was over as the one in the red suit hit the man with a final blow, kicking his bat out of his hand and knocking him out.  “You okay?” he asked, voice quite familiar to your ears, as he walked up, “You really shouldn’t be walking around in alleys by yourself, especially not in Gotham.”  You groaned, trying to sit up, “I- There- I know.  It was stupid.”  He held his hand out as you accepted, pulling you up with ease, he looked at you.  Finally, uncomfortable from the gaze you broke first, “Ummmm...thank you for that.  I’m sure you get that a lot since, y’know, I’m assuming you do this every day, but seriously...thanks”  He nodded mouth sliding into a tight line as he seemed to be considering something, “Do you want me to take you home, miss?”  You were about to decline but felt your knees wobble slightly, “I’ll take that as a yes?  I don’t think you’ll make it home without falling on your pretty face.”  You smiled softly, “Are you flirting with me?”  “I’m trying.  Is it working?”  Chuckling softly you smiled, as a slight frown replaced it quickly, “I have a boyfriend...sorry.”  The man nodded, “I figured….pretty girl like you.”  Laughing you smiled, “We’re actually having kind of a fight right now…”  you glanced up at him, frown deepening, “I said some harsh stuff to him that I didn’t mean...I’m only saying this to you because we’ll probably never see each other again or at least hopefully not I would prefer to not have my life needing saving every day.”  He smiled, “That would definitely be preferable.  If I had to save you more than three times I would call it fate at that point.”  He was holding you tightly as he swept from rooftops using his grappling hooks or whatever it was called, “Do you believe in fate?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his face, too afraid to glace down.  “I’m not sure...Do you?”  “Avoiding the question huh?  Well...I thought I did.  I think I thought fate brought me and boyfriend together...y’know that whole true love and soulmate mumbo jumbo the whole deal.”  Laughing at yourself you continued, “I just...I really loved him and I don’t think he felt the same.  I was always second most important to whatever it was he did in his free time.  All the secrets just became too much...does that make me selfish?”  The vigilante shook his head, “I think it makes you honest.  You deserve someone who puts you first...someone who doesn’t keep his life a secret from you.”  

A couple more minutes and you had arrived at your balcony, “Thanks, for everything tonight and the free therapy session.” you smiled, as he set you down.  “No problem, y/n.”  You turned around quickly at the mention of your name, “How do you know my name?” you questioned, maybe I let it slip? You thought but you were pretty sure you hadn’t even said your name once, then the idea that his voice sounded familiar set in.  “I-uh…” he muttered as you slowly walked up, placing your hand on his cheek, “Tim?  Is it you?” you asked gently, as your hand crept up to the edge of his mask, “Can I?”  He nodded softly, as you pulled it away, “It is you.  I would recognize your voice anywhere.”  Tim shuffled awkwardly as he glanced at his feet, charisma from two minutes ago gone now that the mask was off.  Then another thought set in, “Were you following me?” you questioned eyes slanting slightly. Tim’s eyes widened as he replied, “You’re missing the big picture here...I kinda saved you...”  You laughed slightly as you punched his chest, “I’m messing with you...although I am kind of embarrassed that I complained about you to y’know...you.”  Tim smiled softly, “Nothing you said was wrong though... This-” he said as he gestured to himself, “Is a big part of who I am, and I kept it from you it was unfair, especially after two years of you being patient every time I bailed.”  He stepped closer, closing the gap as he held your chin, “You deserve to know about this part of me.  You mean everything to me y/n y/l/n, I love you.”  You leaned into his touch as you smiled softly, as he continued, “I promise I’ll never keep a big secret like this from you again...I just didn’t want to put you in danger and didn’t realize I was hurting you more by keeping you away.  If you will, I’d like to make it up to you, maybe dinner tomorrow?”  You nodded softly, as you placed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m glad you came to your senses and just so we’re clear you keep things this big from me again then Gotham’s safety will be the least of your worries, Timothy.”  He gulped slightly, as he muttered, “Okay, I promise, no secrets especially not big ones.”  Then you grabbed his shoulders pulling him down to your height, “How bout you start making it up to tonight?  I think Gotham can wait for one night…”  Tim grinned cheekily as he pressed his lips to yours, “I’m sure Bruce won’t mind.”  You pulled away quickly, “Wait, Bruce, as in Wayne, as in your father?  He’s Batman?!”  You realized then that your world was about to get a lot more interesting and your homework was going to be the least of your worries when your boyfriend and his family were vigilantes by night.

[katsidhe]

7.02 final thoughts? (Idk if this one has been requested yet)

7.02 Final Thoughts

*rubs hands* Ah, yes, the episode that got me into SPN. I could talk forever about season 7. 

Fun drinking game: take a shot every time someone makes a different colorful idiom about Sam being insane. Hint: you’ll die, because I counted 25.

(I WONDER WHY Sam didn’t want to tell Bobby or Dean about his active symptoms of psychosis. Truly, a mystery for the ages.)

Even setting Hallucifer aside, this episode highlights so many of the things I high-key LOVE about season 7: the erosion of Sam and Dean’s support network (as tenuous as that already was)—take away Bobby’s house, take away angelic healing, take away the Impala, make them vulnerable and alone and crumbling under the weight of the trauma they’ve accumulated. The broken leg, Sam’s head injury and seizure in the ambulance? Strapped down, badly injured, the fates of their friends uncertain, headed into the belly of the beast? ICONIC. Over the top. Amazing.

It’s a similar kinda thing to Jody’s predicament—sure, she’s capable enough ordinarily, but if you give her surgery and drug her and leave her alone in a hospital with a liver-eating monster on the prowl, the stakes look a lot different, don’t they? I’ve seen this episode approximately one gazillion times but every time I get tense for her.

Quick thoughts on the Leviathans, which have a reputation as an underwhelming SPN villain. Perhaps because of how unsubtle and half-baked they are as metaphor for corporate greed/capitalistic consumption, perhaps because of how their promise of truly terrifying Old Ones, Cthulu-esque devourers, never quite came true (except for a bit in 7.01 and 7.02, yikes!). But honestly I’ve always liked them—I like how their organization and assimilation of knowledge drives the Winchesters deeper underground than even the Apocalypse did; I like how they made the Winchesters’ entire world into something mundanely unsafe and miserable; I like how they showcase the horror of a enemy composed of lockstep drones, the way that Heaven (and Hell, sometimes) tries to be, but never truly manages; I like Dick Roman’s gleeful ravenousness; I like their spooky mouths; hell, I even like the Dick jokes. 

Bobby’s solicitousness towards Dean, and how awkwardly he talks to Sam a little later in the episode, is very emblematic of how bone-deep uncomfortable he is around an honest-to-God mental illness, and, well, around Sam’s issues in general. Which doesn’t make him a bad person, or unsupportive, necessarily. But it’s very evident that he’s got no clue what to say to Sam or how to handle him, that he’s leagues more comfortable dealing with Dean’s problems (as has often been the case regardless of Sam’s mental health).

A related, but separate point: the lengths the show goes to to emphasize “look, Dean’s not okay,” while Sam’s in the middle of a psychotic break… It baffles me a little every time I see this episode, when Bobby walks away from Sam all “yyyyeah I gotta go do some work” and then is immediately all “ok but Dean, how are YOU feeling?” It’d be one thing if Dean weren’t emotionally demonstrative, and if Sam were—if Sam, at this point in the episode, was so obviously struggling to such a painful degree that Bobby wants to make sure Dean’s not overlooking his own reactions. But that’s not really the case. Apart from some flinching, Sam’s been very matter-of-fact about the whole thing so far.

This is our first deep-dive into Sam post-Cage, a full season about he returned. And I love it to pieces, you guys. I love how these inescapable, soul-deep consequences are the inevitable answer to the moral of Sam’s story, where he interred himself with his worst nightmare, forever.

Dean after Hell is clawing for moral high ground. Dean focuses on this bleak kind of virtue, this idea of martyrdom and righteous struggle that eventually unspools and reveals itself to be fundamentally unmoored. He needs some kind of redemption for himself after what he was forced to do in Hell; he needs to own his destiny, and he needs that destiny to be meaningful and good, and he channels his violence outward in that cause.  

Sam does not take any kind of high ground. He hurts... himself. He gnaws inward. No illusions about how “messed up” he is—he sidelines himself before Dean or Bobby can say a single word; he figures he needs to be on top of it, needs to get out ahead of the danger he could represent and reassure his family that he knows he’s a hazard. Sam has learned to repress and downplay and hide his traumas and his freakishness both to avoid feeling stigmatized and to avoid being a burden on the people he loves, especially on his brother. So when Dean reacts with fear (understandable) and anger (less so), Sam takes it in stride.

Hallucifer is probably my favorite thing this show has ever done. I could probably write another thousand words on Hallucifer alone—on how Sam’s using this face for coping, for compartmentalizing; both to hurt himself and to keep himself company, to sort through his pain and arrive at a place where it’s at all tenable for him to exist. 

Sam’s skepticism about professional mental health treatment—his idea that this is a problem he can handle himself, that a doctor would "just stuff [him] full of pills”—is clearly one born of the family mold. This is his dismissive response to Hallucifer!Dean’s accusation that Sam won’t be able to cut it on his own. This denial, this idea that Sam knows he needs to get a handle on this, and therefore that he MUST do it himself, make a science of it, is fascinating. 

On the subject of denial: Hallucifer poses a simple question to Sam: are you sure you got out? And Sam’s NOT sure. Faith that he’s free is yet another maybe-lie that Sam must tell himself with maniacal intensity this season, for the sake of his own sanity, to avoid the voice in his head telling him to shoot himself. 

That Scene in the warehouse. Dean’s advice to Sam is to trust in Dean as the cornerstone of his reality. Asks him to build his whole world on his trust in Dean. What choice does Sam have? Who else can Sam rely on? What else can he do? There is no one else, nothing else. There’s only Dean, or Lucifer. It’s a dichotomy. It’s so CHILLING.

Especially in the context of what we know comes next—7.03, where Dean lies to Sam’s face, murders Amy, and uses Sam’s ~insanity~ to defuse Sam’s (justified) anger. And then, season 8, and 9, and 10, and, y’know what, the entire show. 

Sam drives his thumb into his bleeding hand, and it’s SPN in a nutshell—forever choosing the claustrophobia of the path of slightly less resistance, forever clinging to the misery of a life that’s only just this side of bearable, burying yourself in the toxic fallout because the alternative is unimaginably nightmarish—using the trappings of free will, of defiance, to choose to claw holes in yourself so that someone else won’t. There is no escape.

Dean’s threat of murder-suicide on the phone is so clearly meant to be sympathetic. And yes, on a certain level it absolutely is; and then on another level, it’s, y’know, MURDER-suicide, where Dean’s taking explicit responsibility for and ownership of Sam’s life, even though Sam’s pretty clearly lucid. Dean’s assuming as a matter of course his ability and right to make that decision for Sam. How Dean views and deals with Sam’s instability in season 7 lays major groundwork for Dean’s willingness to let in Gadreel in 9.01.

[trickstercheebs]

How about gordon comforting borrower! Benery after something scary happened? -HLVRAHigh 💖

alright here u goh! takes place a lil bit in the future of my fic :V

He was still getting used to knowing he had roommates, specially roommates he had just only found out about four months ago living with him. Since then everyday felt like he was learning a dozen or so more rules or facts about his new tiny group of...friends?

Tommy and Coomer were always more than happy to inform him about new things he was clueless about, and in return he did the same for anything they didn’t know that he did. He found out Coomer could access his computer with a level of ease he considered concerning...until he found out all Coomer liked to do was get lost in the endless holes of information that Wikipedia offered, along with some various cooking videos on youtube. Tommy would sometimes sit with him and read along on the screen, it was kinda cute watching the tiny pair sit on his wrist rest and scroll for a few hours. 

Bubby strangely would only come over to join the mini group when cooking was the subject..He seemed to only calm down when watching someone make some sort of dish...and of course when Coomer was beside him. Gordon found out after several scorching trial and errors that Coomer was a expert at getting Bubby to calm down and not set fires out of rage or stress. But he had been noticing lately even without Coomers help the mini firestorms had gone down considerably, for which he was ultimately thankful for.

Though...Gordon had taken notice that whenever he was in the kitchen, Bubby somehow always happened to be nearby to watch and sometimes give a few tips from the counter, and his few bad attempts never seemed to get too burned to warrant throwing out nowadays. Maybe sometime soon he ask Bubby officially to help him cook something for everyone.

Benry though...he was very strange to figure out at first. The others had fled being seen by him for weeks aside from him. Benry had come out the moment the so called “jig” was up and started talking with him for hours on end...And despite all that talking Gordon still had little to no idea what the tiny borrower was about. The “sweet voice” he did most of the time, while very pretty to watch float around his head, was just as strange.. He had asked Tommy from time to time to translate when he found out the other borrower seemed to know inherently what the colors translated to and would happily lend a hand in the form of some honestly cute little rhyme to make it easier to remember for them both. Eventually Gordon got the idea after a few weeks of this and started to slowly map out Benrys feelings throughout the days when the sweet voice was more present than his actual voice.

Today was one of those days, Gordon had woken up to the sounds of heavy rain and after a quick look to the weather channel saw it’d be like this most of the day with possible chances of thunderstorms. He personally liked when the heavy storms rolled through, the town really needed it after the dry spell it’s been having for the last few months or so. The resulting day was a sleepy one at best, Gordon setting up a slow cooker of his favorite soup to dig into when it was time to eat with everyone.

Until then he sat on the couch with some snacks and caught up on some shows he had been prompted into watching by his tiny group, knowing they’d all be out and about soon enough, he could already hear Coomer and Bubby on his computer. Tommy was likely with Sunny....or Sunkist as Tommy had renamed her these days.. It didn’t take long for him to feel a tiny weight settle itself on his right shoulder and a even tinyer yawn to reach his ears.

“Sup Gordo....sleepy day today? Fuckin...lofi chill rainstorms to sleep to man..”

“Mornin Benry, and yeah seems like today’s a sleepy one. Weather forecast says its gonna rain all day today.”

“Mhm...niiice, cosy bro mode today..”

“Pfft, you sound like you’re about to pass out on me Benry, didn’t you just wake up?”

“Maybe....? Not my fault big bro Gordo gotta be all fuckin warm n cosy. S’fuckin cheating..”

Gordon couldn’t help but chuckle at that last very tired sounding quip and glanced down at the borrower in question. Benry was splayed out almost like a cat on his broad shoulder sucking up his residual body heat, only to be jostled a bit by his laughter.

“C’mon dude get down from there, I don’t wanna knock you off on accident or something.”

“Mmm maybe later, comfy here just fine bro, won’t fall off I got like..excellent climber hacks trust me.”

“Alright then, but I’ll warn you when I feel like movin or something.”

“Hell yea man no worries here. Your lil buddy Benry’s got it all on lockdown.”

Gordon let out another laugh before they both settled down to watch whatever show he had picked out.

----

A few hours had passed in relative comfortable silence amidst the rain, the soft background noise making Gordon a tad bit sleepy even now when it hit. A bright flash lit up the somber gray world for a brief second, just long enough to rouse him into a bit more of a alert state when the second half came.

It sounded like a gunshot had gone off, the thunder rolling loud enough to rattle the windows with its concussive force. From his computer he could hear Bubby let out a surprised series of curses followed by what he could assume was Coomer rattling off the wikipedia article on thunderstorms. So far so good right?

He heard a soft but tinny noise sound off beside him, or rather next to his head before another crack of thunder sounded off and made the lights flicker briefly with the charge.

“Jesus hell, guess this is quite the storm huh Benry? ......Benry?”

He looked to where the sleepy borrower should of been laying...only to find him missing entirely, and instead felt something..or hopefully someone clutching the side of his neck in a surprising death grip.

“Benry..? You alright down there? You uh...kinda gripping the living hell out of my neck there dude...Something wrong?”

That same tinny noise kicked off again and Gordon could see some small orbs float up...they looked alot like..rancid beer? He sat there for a moment and let the rhyme come to him given Benry’s reaction and refusal to talk or let go of him..

“Color like rancid beer...means acute fear? Benry lil bro..are you scared right now?”

He placed a hand against the spot he felt Benry clutching at him and felt the briefest nods against his fingers. Shit if it was loud to him then it must be outright deafening for someone like Benry and the others...though it seemed like Benry was the only one being affected right now.

Gordon let out a slow sigh and tried to gently ease Benrys death grip on his neck with both hands.

“It’s all good Benry, I’m here I gotcha..c’mon dude it’s fine I won’t let anything happen to you okay?”

Slowly he felt the grip lessen until he felt the weight shift slowly into his awaiting hands. Cupping them gently he moved to bring Benry up to face him and opened his hands. Inside was a clearly frightened borrower..Gordon felt a pang of saddness seeing that expression on the usually chill borrowers face. So instead he offered a warm smile and shifted to lay down on the couch, grabbing the blanket pooled around his lap in the process.

“It’s alright man, thunderstorms scare me too sometimes, y’know? They scared the hell outta me in college for years. But I learned about it and I slowly stopped being afraid..”

“...s’loud...wish the sky would shut its fuck..”

“Yeah it’s really loud..might mean it’s right on top of us..but I think it’ll move soon..wanna know a secret on how to tell its going away?”

“...tips and tricks from...big Gordos book of hacks? ..okay.”

Gordon snorts softly and lays his head against the far armrest of the couch and gently deposits Benry on his chest before adjusting the blanket over them both, Gordon seeing the soft blue glow of Benrys little eyes staring up at him as he got settled and placed a hand behind him for bonus warmth and protection..It seemed to do the trick as those vivid blues dulled to a soft sky blue and he felt Benrey sag against his chest after a few moments.

“When you see the lightening you count a few seconds..and when the thunder hits, that’s how many miles the storm is..the longer the pause means the farther away its getting..If you want I can show you and let you know how far or close the storm is.”

“....okay, sounds fucky but big science Gordo gotta know the good science..”

Gordon waited for a moment or two for the next flash and mentally counted down the seconds until the thunder sounded out...it was only a few seconds but it was already moving out by the sounds of things..possibly down the valley like most other storms did.

He relayed the message to Benry and saw that he did perk up a bit at the news.

“If you want, you can stay in there and I’ll tell you when its moving away, alright?”

“Mhm...sounds good to me man..”

What Gordon didn’t know though was that Benry had already nearly forgotten the storm thanks to a new sound overtaking the noise itself... Gordon had unknowingly placed him over his heart, or close enough to it that Benry could hear it as he laid against the other.. Coupled with the heat radiating off the giant human and darkness he felt...safer. He knew Tommy was going to rag on him later but..he felt nice being like this with the human. He might of had a little crush on the human and relished being close to him whenever he could. He was terrified of storms, the noise hurt his ears like hell and reminded him of...not so epic times..But thankfully Gordon pushed all those thoughts away and now he was here and safe.

It was all just enough to make him wanna sleep, he was warm and certainly cosy enough. Letting out a yawn he let those fail ass thoughts drift away as he looked up at Gordons smiling face and felt his own heat up a bit..Yeah he could sleep knowing someone like that was nearby.

“Gettin sleepy already Benry?”

“...maybe, wake lil Benny bro for supper please?”

“Pffft, yeah alright, I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat..get some rest Benry”

“M’kay boss, you got it.”

Benry smiled and mouthed something else privately before letting the slow thrum of Gordons heart and heat lead him into dreamland. Gordon being the comfortable man he was..accidentally nodded off as well shortly after.

Bubby woke them both up by threatening to burn Gordons beard off a few hours later. But for once the malice was not present in his voice.

[hunxi-guilai]

in reference to this post: /617865678977892352/im-rewatching-the-cave-scene-post-the-first, do you have any favorite acting moments from them? such as when you think they completely nailed a scene or did particularly excellently at embodying their characters!! (because I too am a dedicated appreciator for xiao zhan and wang yibo's talent!)

oooof, did you mean, like, every scene of the entire show, ever? Honestly, it’d be easier to name moments I didn’t like, and even then those scenes probably suffer more for production/writing reasons than performance reasons

I will say that the absolutely knock-out scene for me w/r/t Xiao Zhan’s acting was the entire Nightless City confrontation. There’s an interview with him out there where he admits that, on his first readthrough of the script, he thought that Wei Wuxian had gone full dark side by that point, but later came around to understand and portray the particular arc of Wei Wuxian’s Shakespearean tragedy as we know and love it in CQL. And boy does he come for our goddamn souls with that scene. I’ve mentioned this offhand in multiple posts, but the fact that he’s approximately 10 seconds away from crying even as he’s laughing, yelling, trying desperately to defend himself is so obvious and so visceral. Projecting? Me, never.

Meanwhile for Wang Yibo...gosh, it’s hard to say, but what might be my favorite thing is the journey everyone goes to when they watch him as Lan Wangji. Everyone always starts at “wow, what a deadpan, emotionless face, does this actor just not know how to emote?” and then twenty episodes later you’re like “fuck, it’s the fifth microexpression of minor discomfort” and that just speaks volumes to his genius and talent, and parallels the slow burn of the journey Wei Wuxian himself takes towards understanding the depths of Lan Wangji’s devotion

honestly we could go down the line for the entire cast -- sure, Wang Zhuocheng goes a bit over the top for some of Jiang Cheng’s grimaces, but he does prickly-and-standoffish-but-wears-his-emotions-on-his-face so well, that there were actively times I was rooting for Wei Wuxian to just calm the fuck down and listen to Jiang Cheng for once. I’ve gotten a slew of shijie asks lately, and I’m slowly coming to appreciate the way Xuan Lu conveys silk hiding steel with her portrayal of Jiang Yanli? Which is hard, because most of the moments and lines we get for her are soft, are gentle, are caring, but the more I pay attention to her in random scenes, the more I’ve been noticing that spine of steel (and considering that Xuan Lu has a background in dance, that explains so much w/r/t willowy build but can and will fuck you up).

you know what, while we’re here, let’s shout-out some of the antagonist actors -- we universally revile Wen Chao, which in no small part is due to He Peng’s phenomenal embodiment of pure concentrated douchewad. Yao Shuhao’s Jin Zixun is pre-eminently punchable, and I credit that primarily to his impressive sneer.

AND HOW CAN I FORGET the voice actors for the cast!!!! Lu Zhixing (Wei Wuxian) and Bian Jiang (Lan Wangji) are goddamn legends for the work they’ve done here; they’ve embodied the voices of the characters so perfectly, so thoroughly that I transitioned over into listening to the audiodrama with no problem because their voices remained constant! And on the flipside of that, one of the biggest reasons why I struggle with the donghua (aside from, y’know, just not having enough time to watch it because I’m trying to answer tumblr asks rip) is because they use separate voice actors (who, for the record, are great! But you can’t just expect me to listen to a Wei Wuxian who’s not voiced by Lu Zhixing and not take a week... or month... or three... to come to terms with that fact). And if ALL THAT isn’t badass enough, Bian Jiang also voice-directed the entire show, so there! Hah! 

Ahhhh the entire cast of this show is so ludicrously talented. I love them all. 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 GOOD Things About Season Two

Oh, season two... how you hurt me so. 

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about this game-- S2 of TWDG is my least favorite of all five games. I could probably give you a top TEN things that I hate about season two, but... while I don’t love it, I do believe that there is good to be found in it. That’s what I want to discuss today. 

I did have some help brainstorming ideas for this list, so big thanks to @pi-creates, @kaylee-wolf, @taurusicorn2400, and @daisystarss for bouncing ideas around with me! :D

5. The Lee dream sequence.

This scene is super well done. The only reason that it’s so low on the list is because I tend to forget about it due to all the bullshit surrounding it. It usually isn’t until Arvo shoots Clementine that I remember Lee’s gonna show up and make me cry. Then he leaves all too quickly, and it’s back to the Kenny/Jane bullshit train. 

But pushing aside the shitshow, I love this scene. Of course, emotions are all over the place seeing Lee again given the state he was in at the end of s1. Plus there’s something about seeing baby Clementine again after being an older version of her that gets me. 

Their talk is interesting, too, calling back to your choices about Lilly and Carley/Doug, plus discussing Duck being bit. The part that’s always stood out to me, and I’m sure everyone else, is when Clementine asks Lee why people do the things they do.

And Lee’s response is one that doesn’t just apply to s2, it applies to several characters over the course of the series: “Clem, people don't always make sense... 'Cause bad things happen to everyone. And it's hard to keep bein' yourself after they do.”

As the conversation goes on, he also says, “Well, it's not like math, Clem. Sometimes there just isn't a right answer... but part of growing up is doing what's best for the people you care about...even if sometimes...that means hurting someone else.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“...It’s not that easy.” 

Ugh, it’s so good. It ends with Lee asking what he can say to make Clementine feel better, and it really just hurts because y’know it’s not real, y’know that Clementine’s dreaming all of this and Lee’s going to go away.

Overall a powerful scene that gets me every time. 

4. Clementine walking through the snowstorm

Okay look.... I adore this scene. Everything about it. 

Like okay, we have the stupid bullshit that is Kenny and Jane being literal children in the truck, then we nearly crash. Kenny leaves to look for gas, Jane gets Clementine to drive which dumb idea Jane and she crashes. 

That part sucks, but then the actual greatness begins. Jane runs off with AJ, and Clementine’s left alone with nothing but her gun as she begins her walk through the terrible blizzard. 

It has such a sense of loneliness to it-- hearing Clementine shiver and walk around calling out for help before going silent, the song ‘It’s Out There’ that plays while the wind whips and whistles, and then seeing all the frozen walkers standing around like statues really gives you a sense that something terrible is going to happen. It’s this weird calm before the storm kind of thing that also happens to take place during a harsh snow fall? if that makes sense? 

It’s a beautiful scene but it’s also sad, y’know? Sad because once again, Clementine is all alone. She’s been through so much bullshit, and this bullshit train isn’t even at it’s final stop. She’s alone, she’s still injured from when Arvo shot her, she’s gonna freeze to death if she doesn’t keep moving, she has no idea where the fuck Kenny, Jane, and AJ are, and just... it’s a lot. 

But damn it, it’s so good. 

3. AJ is born

AJ being born is one of the best things to happen in S2, and not just because AJ is a super interesting character himself in S2 or even what his being born does for the story. 

If AJ wasn’t born here, then we wouldn’t have had him in TFS where he finally got to become this compelling character and player in the overall story. Don’t get me wrong, his birth does bring an cool aspect to S2 when you willfully ignore how the hell he’s managed to stay alive and healthy the entire time.

Not only that, but we get to see the start of Clementine’s relationship with him. It doesn’t matter what choices you pick, Clementine shows time and time again that she cares about AJ. She nearly breaks down when she believes he died in the snow before the Kenny and Jane fight, then cries again when she discovers he’s alive. 

I enjoy the big sister aspect they went with for Clementine [it definitely beats ANF’s mom nonsense] and I like the growth it shows with her relationship to Rebecca as well... even though that could’ve been written a lot smoother. Rebecca just kind of does a 180 and they blame it on pregnant hormones which.... eh, okay sure. 

For all it’s flaws, this season gave us the start of AJ and I can’t hate it for that, y’know? 

2. Carver is a pretty great antagonist

I like Carver. I think he’s a great antagonist and I really wish they hadn’t killed him off as early as they did.

I find him to be a fascinating character study, y’know? 

From the very beginning, even before we get to physically meet him, we’re told that Carver is a threat. The cabin group are running from someone, and we can easily put the pieces together that Rebecca might be pregnant with his baby rather than Alvin’s.

Then we actually get to meet him when he comes to the cabin and it’s well executed. From Sarah having a panic attack at seeing a glimpse of him through the window, to his friendly and charismatic nature, to the way he talks to Clementine and just... it’s unsettling.

He’s clever, and he knows that Clementine’s covering for the cabin group, but he’s trying to trick her into giving him info. I also hate how smug he gets when he finds the photo of Sarah, but then he just looks at her, and asks, “You have no idea who these people are, do you?” or whatever and just... something about that, y’know? 

Then his “You have a nice day,” as he leaves and you know he’s coming right back with more people, so the group has gotta go. 

Then of course comes his later scenes where he shows up with his people to the lodge, murders Walter while saying he didn’t want to do it but Kenny left him no choice, and he can possibly murder Alvin if Kenny keeps shooting which is a huge holy shit moment because of how Rebecca reacts. 

Ugh, y’know just the way Carver talks to Rebecca and is so matter-of-fact about the baby being his and how he justifies his actions. Like, we can’t forget Reggie and how Carver threw him off the roof only to turn around like “I liked Reggie, he was chill, but he was weak.”

I dunno man, it’s super well done!

I truly believe Carver could’ve gone down as the best antagonist in the series if the writers hadn’t killed him off so damn early to make more room for Kenny to become the new antagonist of the season. Ugh.

I don’t even have an issue with how he died, either. Having Kenny kill him the way he did makes sense and it’s brutal, it was just premature.

Anyway, Carver’s pretty great. One of the best parts of S2. 

1. Clementine 

I mean, are we really surprised? Clementine is what makes this game playable. She’s the best written, most consistent character [which I know is a bit iffy because we do make choices for her but ya get me] and her growth over the season is the most compelling compared to the other characters. 

Hell, of the four Clementine’s we get across the series, this Clementine is my second favorite! She’s fantastic! 

I also love how self-aware she is that her group is just a bunch of morons and she’s gotta do everything around here, but then the same group underestimates her time and time again even though she’s proven herself to be the most competent. 

And on top of that, she goes through so much bullshit. Right from the start, Christa’s still cold to her after what happened to Omid and the baby, then she gets separated from Christa and nearly drowns in a river, then she comes across a dog that attacks and nearly killing her, forcing her to fight back which kills the dog, and then when she finds some decent people, she passes out and this group thinks it’s a walker bite because their “doctor” is incompetent. They lock her up in a shed because ??? so she has to break in and steal supplies to sew up her own arm, which she does and you feel the pain of it the whole way through, BUT THEN she gets attacked by a walker and has to fight it off before the dumb dumb crew come in to help her. 

And that’s just the first part of episode one. 

It’s like the writers were like “Hey, let’s torture Clem so that we can get easy sympathy points from the audience” and then dialed it back a bit because if you look at some of the initial concepts for this season... oof.

But really, S2 in a nutshell is basically “Clementine does anything and gets punished for it.” 

However, it’s not all bad and a lot of it does make her story all the more interesting as it progresses. She goes from a young girl who needs a group to survive, to a survivor herself who is capable of taking care of herself and those she loves. 

This part pertains to my personal ending for this game-- So, by the time we reach the shit show that is the Kenny and Jane fight, I want Clementine to get as far away from both of them as fucking possible. For me, the best endings Clementine can have is to either go alone, or to go to Wellington. 

Wellington’s my personal favorite because I like the idea of Clementine being in a community with strong walls and people to help with AJ. I mean, we gotta throw out the logic when it comes to AJ surviving because in every single endings, he should be dead. 

Honestly, that’s the only thing that keeps me from shooting Kenny. Hell, in my opinion, walking off into the woods with him instead of staying at Wellington is the worst ending in the entire game-- I’d rather go with ding dong dingus Jane than stick around with Kenny, but for me, neither of those are a good conclusion to Clementine’s story and character in S2

Anyway, endings aside, Clementine is the only part of the story that doesn’t make me side eye the writers the way I do for everything else... well, I side eye them sometimes but S2 as a whole is such a mess that it takes a lot to not straight up glare at them and the amount of fuck ups they had here. 

Clementine is hands down the best part of S2.

--- Honorable Mentions

-Big brother Luke in the first couple episodes -This game does have a bunch of different endings that you can get, which is pretty neat until you realize that they mean practically nothing come ANF and they’re totally unbalanced sooo... nice try? -Uncle Pete is pretty cool -The setting of the ski resort is super nice and cozy until murder happens. -In fact, the snowy nature is visually pretty and the skyboxes are some of the best in the series. 

---

So what do you think? Do you agree with this list? What are some of your favorite parts of Season 2? Are you looking at this and asking where the Kenny entry is? Well, I’m sure if you scroll up just a wee bit, you’ll find your answer. 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Character Deaths That Made Me Side-Eye the Writers 

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, lightwormsiblings!

For @lightwormsiblings, I'm so happy I was able to write you this fic and I hope it makes you smile and you enjoy it. Wishing you a happy holidays; stay warm, grab your favorite warm drink and read to your hearts content.

Read On AO3

*****

Love Doesn't Follow a Plan

It wasn’t for lack of trying that Alec and Magnus had only been able to go on a single date. Alec’s plate of responsibilities was piled high and Magnus’ had just as many commitments as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. When they were free to spend time together they were often too exhausted to have an extravagant evening and instead Magnus would conjure some food for them and they’d cuddle on the couch watching some show that Alec could never keep up with but found it funny enough. Despite this they both lavished in these moments of quiet.

But that didn’t change the fact that Alec was determined to take Magnus on a proper date.

As soon as he figured out what to do.

Magnus was the first person he’d ever even been on a date with so he didn’t exactly have references to pull from as far as dates go. He’d read a few articles he’d come across online but they involved going on trips or elaborate planning that Alec knew would need Magnus’ input.

Sure, Magnus would probably enjoy Alec taking him to the movies but he had no idea what was even showing let alone what would be a good choice. “Netflix and chill” had been a popular option but Alec wasn’t ready for that step yet and if he wasn’t looking to “get down” they’d just be doing what they already were doing.

So Alec turned to the only person he could trust with dating advice: Izzy.

Standing outside his sister’s door, he took a deep breath and knocked three times before he could talk himself out of this. He was doing this for Magnus, besides Izzy would at least keep her teasing to a minimum.

A few moments later, Izzy swung her door open, a smile breaking across her face when she saw him. “Hey big bro, what’s up?” Izzy asked.

“I was hoping to ask you something,” Alec said, shifting from foot-to-foot.

“You know you can ask me anything.”

“In private?”

Izzy’s brows pinched together and she pulled her door further open. “Of course, come on in.”

Alec followed his sister into her room, noting the small pile of clothes piled on her bed. “You getting ready for something?”

His sister grinned and did a twirl. “I’m free from patrol tonight so I figured I’d go dancing.”

“Well, you’ll have no problem turning heads,” Alec commented with a grin of his own.

She waggled her finger at him. “I never do.”

Not for the first time did Alec envy his sister’s confidence. His sister was beautiful and she seemed to have no fear going after what she wanted. “True,” Alec finally replied.

Izzy sat on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit down, no point wearing a trench into my floor.”

He didn’t even know he’d started pacing. He joined her on the edge of her bed and picked at a loose thread at the cuff of his long-sleeve. “So uh I wanted to ask for some advice.”

He could hear the surprise in Izzy’s voice. “Advice? About what?”

“Y’know…”

“No Alec, I can’t say I do know.”

“I want to take Magnus on a date,” Alec started, looking his sister in the eyes. “Our first date didn’t go too well and I want to make sure this one goes well.”

“I didn’t hear about this disastrous first date!” Izzy whined, poking him in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alec sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It wasn’t disastrous, it was… fine.”

His sister snorted out a laugh leaning against his shoulder to keep herself upright. “That tells me that it definitely wasn’t fine.”

“We just talked about the wrong things and I was nervous and Magnus made an escape plan with Catarina to get out of the date if it was going badly.” Honestly, it was kind of hilarious to think about now.

“But he didn’t leave.”

He couldn’t fight his smile. “No, he didn’t in the end,” Alec conceded.

Izzy clapped him on the shoulder. “Well that gives us something to work towards: making this date better than the first.” She paused, tilting her head. “But wait, I know you and Magnus have spent more time together since then.”

He shrugged. “We’ve just been hanging out at his loft. Getting takeout, watching things he suggests.”

“You guys are so lame,” Izzy teased, but her eyes were soft and her smile warm. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

And he was happy. He was happier than he’d ever been and it was because of Magnus. “I am happy.”

His sister sighed dreamily, falling back on her bed. “Alright, so what’ve you got planned so far for this date of yours?”

“Well, I thought dinner at a restaurant would be nice,” Alec said, dragging his hand across the silky texture of Izzy’s comforter. “Take him to the Thai place he’s mentioned loving.”

“Good idea and you like Thai food too, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve liked it every time Magnus has conjured some for us.”

“Perfect, you’ve got the first thing down for your date itinerary,” Izzy cheered, sitting up. “Once you pick a day for your date I’d suggest making reservations to make sure you get a table and don’t have to wait.”

Alec added ‘make reservation’ to his mental to-do list, right after asking when Magnus was free to go on this date he was planning. He could make reservations.

“What’s your next idea?” Izzy asked.

This was literally as far as he’d gotten in his planning which was why he’d come to Izzy. “What do you suggest?” He questioned.

“Well Magnus likes a good party and drinking,” Izzy hedged, “why not take him dancing?”

That sounded like a terrible idea. “Izzy I don’t know if you remember, but I’m not exactly a dancer.”

She waved a hand at him. “You don’t have to be a dancer to take him to a club, just move to the music.”

“And step on his toes?”

The grin on Izzy’s face was devilish. “You don’t have to move your feet to move to the music, Alec.”

He felt his face burn red. “W-well I guess I could take him to Pandemonium. To dance.”

“Date night activity number two decided,” Izzy nudged him with her elbow. “We’re knocking this out.”

He guessed they sort of were, but he also didn’t know how many people needed to go to their sister to help them plan a date, especially at his age. “And maybe end the night with a walk back to his loft?” Alec suggested.

“Taking your man home, Alec you’re so sweet.”

Alec bumped her shoulder with his. “He likes the lights, and I like walking home with him.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh. “Make my nerves chill out after dancing with Magnus.” When he didn’t hear a response from Izzy he turned to her, “Is the walk not a good idea?”

Izzy blinked wide-eyes at him before shaking her head. “No, no the walk sounds like a great idea, it’s just…” her voice trailed off.

He raised a brow at her. “It’s just… what?”

“You called the loft home.”

His brows went towards his hairline. “I did?”

Nodding her head, Izzy sent him a smile. “You did.”

“Huh.” He wasn’t sure what to make of that if he was being honest. The Institute had always been his home and to now also think of Magnus’ loft – a place he hadn’t even known for more than six months – home was mind-boggling. He’d have to think more on that later. “So, you think that’ll be enough for this date?”

“More than enough, big brother,” Izzy assured, “You worry too much, it’ll be fine.”

Alec smiled. “Yeah I guess you’re right, it’ll be great.”

It was a stroke of luck that Magnus and Alec’s schedules were free that Friday night. Alec even managed to leave thirty minutes early, giving himself plenty of time to get to the loft. Feeling emboldened by his luck, Alec stopped at a florist two blocks away from the loft.

Bloom Couture was surprisingly warm and the air carried the heavy floral scent that reminded him of his mother’s perfume. The selection of flowers was near overwhelming but he shoved the idea of walking back out of the store aside.

He could buy his boyfriend flowers. He could.

“Hey, welcome,” A bright voice piped up from behind a group of tulips, startling Alec. “I’ll be with you in just a second.” The florist, a young curly-haired woman, came back behind the counter and gave him a smile. “What can I get you today?”

“I was hoping to get a bouquet,” Alec said. He resisted the urge to slap his forehead – why else would he have come to the shop if it wasn’t to get a bouquet?

The woman just continued to smile at him. “Well you’ve come to the right place for one,” she gestured around herself, “what did you have in mind?”

He felt a silent panic buzz inside his brain. Roses were lovely and loads of people used them as a romantic gesture, but they were ordinary. Typical. Magnus was vibrant and magical, beautiful and so different from anyone Alec had ever met before. Roses wouldn’t be enough for Magnus. He deserved something unique.

“If you don’t have any ideas right now, you can suggest a color and we could go from there,” the angel behind the counter offered.

“Blue.” Like Magnus’ magic.

The florist, Heather now that he looked at her nametag nodded. “Blue is a good color to narrow down our choices, not that many flowers that are naturally blue. We’ve got bluebells, irises, delphinium, hydrangeas, hyacinths, and I think I even have a bundle of blue orchids that came in the other day.”

That list was still too long for Alec’s liking. “Do uh- what would you pick?” Alec fumbled. “Not that I can’t choose I just,” he heaved a sigh, “I’ve never gotten flowers for anyone before.”

“She must be someone special.”

For a moment Alec thought about just going along with what she’d assumed, but there was a bigger part of him that wanted to tell her the truth. Ever since his almost-wedding when he finally stepped out of the closet in-front of his parents and all of those people, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

He was gay and he didn’t want to ever feel ashamed about that again.

“He’s magnificent,” Alec corrected with a grin.

Heather didn’t so much as blink. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Where do you even start when talking about Magnus Bane? “He’s magical,” he imagined Magnus snapping his fingers to summon a drink or when he’d shift his magic in graceful arcs on his balcony. “Everything about him is magical. He’s so strong and kind and patient. And glittery.”

“Glittery?”

“Sometimes I wonder if he just sets off one of those glitter bombs and walks right into it.” He shook his head and tilted his head to the side. “Maybe the glitter is supposed to bother me or maybe he thought it might, but it’s so undeniably him that I can’t help but smile when I find it everywhere.”

The florist has a soft look on her face. “He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“He is.”

She hummed to herself. “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.” She went to the backroom before coming back with a bundle of blue flowers. “These beauties are those blue orchids I mentioned before. I don’t get many shipments of these, but I think they’d be perfect in the bouquet for your beau.” She walked over to collection of roses and put a few white ones into the bundle in her hand. “The white roses complement the orchids while making sure the orchids remain the focus.”

Alec stared at the bouquet and while he didn’t know anything about flowers, he felt that they fit him and Magnus. Magnus – so bold and beautiful that it was hard to look away from him – and him – who seemed plain in comparison but together they made something splendid.

It was perfect.

Despite leaving early, the stop at the florist took longer than he intended and he was ten minutes late. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he knocked on Magnus’ door. He looked down at the bouquet in his hands and ran his thumb along the glittering ribbon that held the bouquet together.

The door to the loft opened with a flourish revealing Magnus in all his glory.

Not for the first time did Alec wonder if it was possible for someone to continue to grow more beautiful every time you saw them. If it was possible for anyone, it would be for Magnus.

“Alexander,” Magnus said with a smile, his eyes glittering and his lips parting in shock. “Are those for me?”

He nodded his head, clearing his throat. “Magnus, hi,” Alec greeted with a boyish grin, holding the flowers out to Magnus. “And yeah- yes these are for you.”

Magnus took them with the tenderness you’d expect someone to have when handling a baby. “They’re beautiful.” He leaned his head down into the blooms, looking at Alec through the veil of his lashes. “Thank you, Alec.”

He felt warmth bloom in his chest and he knew his cheeks were pink. “I wanted to.” And he’d keep wanting to give his boyfriend flowers if that sappy look was what he got in return. He wanted to bask in this moment and pull Magnus into his arms and kiss those smiling lips but he knew if they started they wouldn’t make it to their reservation. “Are you ready for dinner?”

Magnus snapped and the bouquet was gone, presumably put safely in a vase on his coffee table. “I’m always ready for a good meal,” he teased with a wink.

Alec shook his head, chuckling at the warlock’s antics. “I agree,” he replied with a wink of his own. It felt weird, but the laugh it got out of Magnus made it all worth it.

The restaurant was a bustle of activity and Alec sent a mental thank you to Izzy for telling him to make a reservation. They were seated towards the back, a more intimate setting than if they’d been seated at one of the middle tables. He also had the full view of the restaurant from where he was sitting that had his shoulders relaxing from their parade rest.

Magnus regaled him a drunken adventure he’d had while he was in Peru, gesturing animatedly between sips of hot sake. “- and stole a carpet before enchanting it so that I could fly over the desert.”

“Why did you want to go to the desert?” Alec asked.

His boyfriend shrugged. “Cat and Ragnor swear that I’d decided that I was going to stay there and become a cactus.”

Alec snorted, shaking his head. “Well you definitely would’ve been the most beautiful cactus.”

Magnus hummed in agreeance before turning his attention back to the menu.

Which was turning out to be the ban of his existence.

When he decided to take Magnus here, he hadn’t thought that the menu would be a problem. And it shouldn’t have been except Magnus had always ordered for him before or conjured up whatever; his boyfriend always knew exactly what to get him.

But he’d never seen the names of the dishes before and a lot of them sounded similar based on their description. All the dishes seemed good and he’d probably eat anything he got. But that didn’t mean much since Izzy’s cooking sounded delicious when she described it and it’d long been proven that Izzy couldn’t cook to save her life (though Alec still managed to choke down half of anything she made him). He knew he was thinking about this too much and he was desperate for Magnus to tell another story so he could stop looking at the glossy pages in front of him.

“Are you alright?” Magnus questioned, his hand reaching across the table to touch Alec’s. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The brooding one, the one where your eyebrows furrow and your jaw tenses.” Magnus squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “The Shadowhunter look.”

“I’m not brooding,” Alec protested, snorting at Magnus’ impression. He grabbed Magnus hand and laced their fingers together. “I don’t know what to order.”

The admittance seemed to quell Magnus’ worries. “Is that all? What are you stuck between?”

“Um… everything?”

His boyfriend raised his eyebrows. “All of them?”

He shrugged. “What do you usually conjure us?”

Like a lightbulb turned on Magnus seemed to understand. “We usually get pad thai, but I think you’d love neua yang. The papaya salad has a similar texture to cabbage and its savory.”

Alec nodded his head at the suggestion, his indecision gone now with Magnus’ recommendation. “I’ll get that then.”

“Or,” Magnus started, closing his menu and setting it to the side, “we can both get different meals and share them both so that you can try two new dishes.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but think how it’ll spice up our take-out options.” Magnus scooted his chair so that he was sitting closer to Alec at the table. “It’ll also give me an excuse to be closer to you. We can just pick from each other’s plates if we’re like this.”

The familiar warmth that seemed make itself known when he was around Magnus flared hotter. “I think I’d like that.”

“Well that makes two of us,” the warlock winked, rubbing his thumb across the back of Alec’s knuckles. “If at any time you aren’t sure of something, you are more than welcome to ask, Alexander.”

After having to literally trick Magnus into letting him pay the bill for their meal, they made their way to Pandemonium. The heavy bass of the music reverberated through the pavement and Alec took a fortifying breath. At least they didn’t have to wait to enter since Magnus literally owned the place.

They made their way through a throng of people meandering towards the entrance, Magnus tugging him along with a manic glee. It was adorable to see the warlock so excited.

“This calls for a change in wardrobe,” Magnus piped with a snap.

Magnus’ sharp waistcoat and patterned button-up were replaced by a maroon, silk shirt that left a tantalizing amount of skin on display that had Alec aching to explore. He was also positive that Magnus’ pants had become impossibly tighter and he doubted even Magnus could’ve wiggled into them without magic.

Magnus was always beautiful to Alec, but now he looked sinful.  

It hadn’t occurred to Alec that he might have worn the wrong clothes to go clubbing in, but he’d never been fashion conscious in the first place and Magnus didn’t seem to mind his leather jacket at all if the amount of times he touched it was any indication of the warlock’s opinion of his jacket.

Even though it was him who suggested they go to Pandemonium, Alec already wanted to leave. The place was packed with people drinking, shouting, and dancing to the beat of the music. He was overwhelmed by the influx of stimulation that left him disoriented.

But he came here to take Magnus dancing. Magnus loved clubbing. He could deal with some mild discomfort to make Magnus happy. He could totally go clubbing with Magnus.

No problem. None at all.

Magnus already started swaying his hips to the music beside him, but his hand never left Alec’s. “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” Magnus beamed. He pulled Alec closer and moved them so they were moving to the music.

Alec shuffled his feet in lieu of dancing, but he let his hips rock side to side as Magnus gyrated against him. If nothing else, he enjoyed the feeling of Magnus against him.

Their chests pressed together and Alec leant his forehead against Magnus’ as the warlock wrapped his arms around his neck. If it was just this, Alec could completely understand the draw of clubs.

But they were so loud.

He tried to focus on just Magnus, but ever-so often another person would brush against him and he’d be brought back to the reality that he was packed in like a sardine with all these people. He wrapped his hands around the sharp bones of Magnus’ hips to further ground himself.

“Aren’t you handsy,” Magnus boomed over the music.

“Only with you,” Alec assured. He wasn’t sure if Magnus had heard what he said but he hoped the subtle grind of his hips against Magnus’ told him all he needed to know.

They spent a few songs like that, grinding and undulating against each other. As a new echoed across the dance floor, Alec prepared himself for another round of dancing but Magnus pulled away from him and grabbed his hand again. “What’s up?” Alec asked.

His boyfriend shook his head and started dragging him off the dancefloor. “I figured a drink might do us some good.”  

Alec knitted his brows and turned his head to look at the bar. “But the bar is that way.”

Magnus laughed and gave him a sly look. “I’ll be providing us drinks tonight, darling and I assure you that I haven’t made a bad drink in the last century.” He squeezed his hand. “Besides, I think the VIP section would suit us better for now.”

He tried not to rejoice at moving to the VIP area.

Magnus led them to the roped off area where only six people were hanging out. It was such a difference from the mass of bodies that made up the dancefloor and Alec felt himself already begin to relax in the new space.

He was pushed to sit down on the plush couch that Magnus usually sat at when he held court as Magnus summoned two glasses. Alec took a tentative sip, making a considering face at the surprisingly sweet and fruity flavor.

“It’s good,” Alec complemented. It wasn’t too strong and the sharp burn of alcohol was virtually masked by the sweetness of what tasted like strawberries. “What is this?”

“Strawberry margarita,” Magnus informed, taking a seat beside him and snuggling up to his side and taking a sip of his own drink. “There’s quite a number of drinks that don’t taste like alcohol and I’m determined to find out all of your favorites.”

“Well I want to know your favorites too.”

Magnus sent him a smile and kissed his cheek. “I’m drinking a ‘stepping razor blade,’ not only does it sound dangerous but the cayenne pepper on top provides a lingering burn.”

“And that’s good?” It didn’t sound pleasant.

“To me it is, but it’s definitely not a drink for everyone.” Magnus held out his glass. “You’re welcome to try it if you’d like.”

Alec took another sip of his own drink and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with my own drink for now.”

“The offer stands, angel.” Magnus shifted his body so that he faced Alec. “Why don’t we play a game?”

“A game? Don’t you want to dance?”

Magnus waved off the statement. “I can dance whenever, I want to spend time with you.”

Alec flushed, his eyes darting down to look at Magnus’ lips. “Okay, we can play a game.”

“Excellent! I figured it might be fun to play a game of 20 questions.”

Alec had played a version of it with Izzy and Jace before, but he wondered how the game changed when played by couples. “Should I go first?”

Magnus gestured at him with a grin. “By all means.”

“Alright um…” What was a good question to ask Magnus? “What would- what’s your favorite… What brings you the most pleasure in life?” That seemed like a good question.

His question garnered him a heated look. “Well hopefully you if I’m lucky.”

Alec choked on his margarita. “M-Magnus! You know what I meant.”

Magnus’ laugh was beautiful even at his expense. “I’m being totally serious, Alexander,” Magnus purred. “But if we aren’t talking about sexually, I think making other people happy and safe brings me the most pleasure.” His eyes drifted to the dancefloor, to the dancing crowd of Downworlders. “Making sure my people are safe and taken care of to the best of my ability is something I will always strive for.”

Alec rubbed Magnus’ knee which got the warlock’s attention back on him. “Right, it’s my turn now,” Magnus said. “On a regular day, when you’re doing all your Shadowhunter-y duties, what do you find yourself thinking about the most?”

Alec thought about it for a moment. “Keeping my family and those I’m supposed to protect safe the most,” he admitted. “Both Jace and Izzy are ridiculously reckless and it’s hard to reign them in, especially with Red in the mix.” He paused and looked back at Magnus’ eyes. “But every day I’m thinking about you more and more.” He ducked his head and idly fiddled with one of Magnus’ rings. “I wonder how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve eaten, what you’re wearing,” he chances a glance up at Magnus’ face, “I wonder what color glitter you’ve chosen for the day and if you’re thinking about me too.”

The admittance feels raw and revealing in ways Alec had never been before. The majority of his life he’s spent keeping whole parts of himself locked away. He wonders if he’s always cared like this or if Magnus is special.

His soul crooned its love for Magnus before he ever had words for it.

His answer seemed to stun his boyfriend who continued to stare at him with lips parted and eyes wide. But all at once those eyes welled up and Magnus rapidly blinked what might be tears from his eyes.

“Magnus, I- Did I say something wrong?” Alec asked. He can’t see any reason for Magnus to cry at his answer, but he’d never been the best with social cues.

Lips descend on his before he can say anything else.

Kissing Magnus is just as magical as it was the first time and every time since. A pleasant buzz tingled from his lips throughout his body as he gave the reigns over to Magnus to control their kiss. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt warm.

He felt at home.

However, the universe seemed to have something against him because Alec felt the sudden chill of his margarita spilling on his lap.

He cursed as he broke the kiss, swiftly righting his drink and putting it on the table in front of them. The drink sept through his jeans; already he felt sticky and he knew that the red from the drink stained his thighs red.

“Shit,” Alec muttered, looking around for something to sop some of the liquid up.

“Allow me, darling,” Magnus offered, wiggling his fingers before he snapped the mess gone. “That should do it.”

“I’m sorry.”

His boyfriend smiled at him, all teeth and happiness crinkling the corner of his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should take it as a complement that my kiss can make you lose your awareness to what’s around you.”

Alec still felt foolish, but he didn’t dwell on it. “We could always try it again, second times the charm.”

Magnus snorts, leaning into his space once more. “It’s third time actually.”

“Hm, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me a third time then after this one.”

“Gladly.”

They don’t end up going back to the dancefloor. The stay in the VIP section and occasionally got up to sway to the music as they talked but other than that Alec’s plan to take Magnus dancing seemed to have fallen flat in the end.

Because Magnus knew Alec was uncomfortable when they were dancing before no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Alec can’t stop thinking about the multiple times their date hadn’t gone as planned as they walked back to the loft. The city is still plenty active at this time of night, but the streets are surprisingly empty. He squeezed Magnus’ hand as they walked and tried to tune back into the story Magnus was telling him.

“- She came banging on my door to demand how to best tell her paramour to kindly ‘fuck off,’” Magnus narrated.

“How’d she end up doing it?” Alec questioned, even though he wasn’t quite sure how the story started.

“She and the Seelie he was seeing on the side hooked-up,” he laughed, “they’ve been together ever since.”

Alec grinned, looking over at Magnus and flinched when he felt something hit his cheek.

He looked at the ground to see little drops of water begin to speckle the ground. Five spots quickly became ten then twenty until they were abruptly assaulted with a downpour.

“By the angel, really?” Alec yelled, quickly pulling Magnus to the closest overhang.

It was too late. They were both soaked, hair dripping into their eyes and shivering. Alec hoped that whatever angel up there watching him was having a good laugh at his expense.

“Well,” Magnus interrupted, running a hand through his hair, “that was exciting.”

Alec turned his attention to his boyfriend, taking in Magnus’ wilting Mohawk and marveled at the sight of his makeup still looking impeccable despite the water dripping down his face. “I- Wait, here,” Alec mumbled, shucking his jacket and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. He doubted it would do much but the leather prevented the lining from getting wet and would do more against the chill than Magnus’ silk shirt.

Magnus ran his fingers across the worn leather of his jacket with what looked like a quiet reverence, like he couldn’t believe what he had just transpired. Like before, Magnus was the one who broke their silence. “Aren’t you cold?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m just sorry about this.”

“About the rain?” Magnus’ lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “Darling, you can’t do anything about the weather.”

“About this whole night.”

Magnus froze and his eyes shuttered and Alec knew he must’ve said something wrong. “Do you regret the date?”

Alec blinked owlishly at Magnus and shook his head. “No, I don’t regret the date it’s just…” He groaned and tugged at his hair, “I had this whole date planned. I picked the restaurant, I made plans to go dancing with you, I even thought of our walk home.” His voice quieted to a whisper. “But everything went wrong.”

It was Magnus’ turn to look confused. “What went wrong?” He sounded genuinely confused by Alec’s confession.

“I was late to pick you up, I couldn’t pick what to eat at the restaurant,” Alec listed. “When we went dancing you felt like you had to take me off the dancefloor because I couldn’t handle it. And then I went and spilled my drink on myself while we were having a moment and you had to clean me up.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose and gesturing to the sky. “Not even our walk went as planned because now it’s raining.”

Magnus didn’t say anything for a few grueling moments and Alec felt his frustration dwindle to the familiar feeling of inadequacy.

His best was never good enough.

Magnus cupped his cheek and directed his gaze back to him. “Alexander,” Magnus cooed. Like Alec was something precious. “How is any of that bad?”

Alec opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Magnus pressed his lips tenderly to Alec’s own. It was chaste but there’s a comfort in the soft touch.

“I’ll be honest with you, Alec,” Magnus said, “this has been one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” His boyfriend ran his thumbs across Alec’s cheekbones. “You brought me flowers because you thought I’d like them. You took me to a restaurant I’d only mentioned liking to you once before.” He kissed Alec’s nose. “You took me to a club which I know isn’t your scene because you know that I like to party.”

Alec shrugged. “It makes you happy.”

Magnus rubs their noses together before he leaned his forehead against Alec’s. “That’s what I mean, Alec. How could I ever think it was a bad date when you’ve done everything to make sure I enjoyed myself?”

Alec let out a shuddering breath, clutching at Magnus’ waist underneath his jacket. “But-“

“Ask me what my ideal date is, Alexander.”

It’s a command and Alexander can’t refute. “What is your ideal date, Magnus?”

His warlock pulled back to look him in the eye, his eyes holding the same softness they held back at the club after he’d answered Magnus’ question. “My ideal date is being with you,” Magnus insisted. “It’s getting to know you better and see you happy when we’re together. It’s getting to fall harder for you each time I see you.”

“That’s my line,” Alec’s voice wavered. His heart felt like it might burst in his chest but he never wanted this feeling to leave. He wondered if this is how love felt because he knew he was in love with Magnus.

Without a doubt, he loved Magnus Bane.  

Magnus grinned and tugged Alec back out into the rain. Alec couldn’t help the watery laugh as they were once more pelted with water. He moved one of his hands up to the back of Magnus’ head, carding his fingers through the longer strands.

“You need to learn that relationships are never perfect and even when we want something to go perfectly it might not, pretty boy,” Magnus said. He must’ve cast a spell because Alec had no trouble hearing him over the rain. “Love’s never the best days or the worst days, but it’s beautiful and-“

“I want that with you,” Alec finished, surging forward with a renewed passion. The kiss was wet and their teeth clacked together in their enthusiasm and too soon they were breaking apart to laugh against each other’s lips.

He wanted to try and chase the taste of that laughter from Magnus’ lips, but was content to lean his forehead back against Magnus’, the rain now a welcome accompaniment.

Love isn’t just the high and lows.

But maybe that’s what makes it perfect to Alec.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading this! If you have time, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Did you like it? Favorite part? Reading comments always make my day!

You can also find me on my writing tumblr @cakelanguage

Oh and if you were wondering why I chose blue orchids for the bouquet: blue orchids specifically represent power, beauty and peace. I thought it fit Magnus and how Alec sees him.

[queen-scribbles]

Plenty Special

Happy birthday to my darling AJ, who managed to squeeze both bff time and boyfriend time into one fic, which is frankly impressive. :D

---

Abigail had never been one to make a fuss about her birthday. 

Her mother usually sent her a gift--aside from the few years, by some miracle, she was able to actually visit--and Tina would leave something little yet fun and thoughtful on her desk, but that was more than enough for her. The day was spent almost-normal, then ending in curled up with a good book. She’d never felt the need to make a big deal out of it.

Felix, apparently, felt differently, if the dozen odd balloons(and the streamers) decorating the Warehouse living room were any indication.

“I hear it’s your birthday,” he grinned in answer to Abigail’s clearly gobsmacked expression when the sight registered.

“You hear correctly,” she said slowly. Her gaze traveled around the room, taking in the decorations. “But when... how... I thought we were just hangin’ out.”

“We can, if that’s what you want,” Felix said. He sprawled across a couch.  “You’re the birthday girl, AJ. How come you didn’t mention that when we were setting this up?”

She shrugged. “It’s just never been particularly... different day for me. I’m too much a fan of quiet, an’ especially with Mum away so much for work; we never celebrated with big parties.”

“Fair enough,” Felix laughed.

“This year I have th’ day off an’ get to spend it as I please, that’s plenty for me.”

“And you chose to spend it with me?” He grinned. “I’m honoured.”

“You’re fun company, yeah?” Abigail said, dropping onto the couch next to him.  “An’ it’s been too long since we got to spend time together.”

“Gotta admit, I’m a little surprised you aren’t spendin’ it with Natey,” Felix said. He waggled his eyebrows as he nudged her in the ribs.

Wish I could. She swallowed back the knee-jerk thought and played with a lock of hair. “He an’ Adam were needed for a mission, an’ I’d made plans with you. B’fore I knew he was gonna be busy,” she added hastily, realizing that almost made it sound like Felix was her second choice 

But Felix appeared to have not even noticed. “Oh, that’s why he was so grumpy this morning. Y’know, by Nate-standards,” he amended with a grin when Abigail cocked a disbelieving brow. “He usually loves all the diplomatic stuff, and seemed kind of... meh about this one.” His grin widened. “He’s moping ‘cause he won’t get to see you, that’s adorable.”

“We might see each other,” Abigail protested. “Way I understand it, whatever they’re doin’ shouldn’t take even a whole day. ‘Less something goes wrong they should be back by evenin’ at latest. B’sides,” she shrugged, “Nate an’ I spent th’ day together for his birthday not two weeks ago, and it would just be more of th’ same.”

“You say that like it’s something neither of you would enjoy,” Felix said with a smirk. 

Abigail opened her mouth, shut it, and then replied, “Readin’s always grand, yeah? But a few minutes with him’ll be fine for today. I want to spend it with you. Even if Nate wasn’t busy.”

“AJ.” Felix rested his chin in his palm and grinned at her like a darned Cheshire cat. “I can tell you’re lying. Not about hanging out with me--I mean, cmon, who wouldn’t wanna do that?--but you’re really hoping they get back in time for you to have a decent visit with Nate.”

“That would be nice,” Abigail conceded, since he could tell anyway. “But really, any time I get t’ see him will be plenty special. An’ so will the time I’m spendin’ with you.” She tapped the string of one colorful balloon. “This was sweet of ya, by the way. Didja have anything in mind for us hangin’ out?”

“There’s a couple movies I wanted to watch no one’s else is really interested in.” He pulled off his hat and tossed it in the air. “Nate’ll watch ‘em with me if I nag, but I’d rather do it with someone who’ll have fun. But if it’s not something you wanna do....”

“What movies?” Abigail asked, gathering her hair back in a bun.

Felix yanked his hat back on, eyes bright with hope, and jumped up to retrieve the movies in question.

“Oh, I love that one,” she grinned, recognizing one case before he’d made it back across the room. “Never watched the other one m’self, but I’ve heard good things.”

He grinned back, bouncing a little. “Sooo? I mean, it’s your birthday, if you’d rather do something else we can.”

Abigail gave a soft laugh. “Nah, we can watch these. It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” Felix whooped, and plunked back down on the couch with enough enthusiasm it made her bounce a little. “Which one first? I’m guessing you want the on you know you love?”

She shook her head. “Let’s start with the new one, yeah? Save the best for last?”

“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” he winked and popped open the movie’s case.  “You’re patienter than I’d be.”

“Makin’ up words again, are ya?” Abigail teased as she leaned over to start unlacing her boots.

“When I need to,” Felix grinned, rolling with the gentle needling. “And you know what a movie needs?” He flashed across the room to get the first one started, reached behind a nearby chair before darting back over. “Popcorn!”

More specifically, chocolate-drizzled popcorn, Abigail noted with a smile as she took the bowl he handed her. Better’n birthday cake. “Well, you certainly know how to make a birthday special.”

Felix arched a brow even as he scrambled for the remote. “That’s all it takes?”

She shrugged. “Toldja I don’t usually do much.”

“That’s why you need a friend like me,” he said brightly, settling back next to her with his own bowl of popcorn in one hand and the remote in the other.

“Are you gonna be able t’ sit still if ya eat that?” Abigail laughed as she eyed the lavish ribbons of chocolate dripping over his popcorn.

“No, but c’mon, AJ.” Felix bumped his shoulder to hers and grinned. “I don’t sit still anyway.”

She laughed again, almost choking on a mouthful of popcorn. “True. Do ya talk durin’ movies, too?”

“Yeah.” He wrinkled his nose but didn’t sound terribly sheepish as he hit play. He kicked off his shoes and braced rainbow-stripe clad feet against the coffee table, flashing her a grin. “Good luck getting me to stop.”

“Felix, I’d never try t’ make you stop talkin’.” She giggled. “For one thing, I know it’s impossible, yeah? For another...” she bit her lip. “I do it, too. Sometimes.” 

“Commentate movies?” His grin widened when she nodded. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, buddy.”

Abigail grinned back and bumped her shoulder to his before they settled in to watch the movie.

---

By the end of their mini-marathon, she was already prepared to label this one of the better birthdays she’d had. It was so much more fun to do movie commentary with someone, and the popcorn was delicious, and Felix was delightful company. She was having so much fun she almost forgot to eat lunch. And it was impressive Felix managed to sit mostly-still through most of her favorite parts in the second movie.

“That was fun,” he announced as he clicked off the scrolling movie credits.

“Yeah, it was,” she said, slouching even more comfortably in her sideways perch against the couch arm. “A very good birthday. Thank you, Felix.”

“Unless you gotta leave, it’s not done yet,” he pointed out. “We can hang out more.”

“I don’t, not yet.” Abigail shook her head and stretched. “Tina asked if I wanted to go for drinks after her shift’s done, but the time for that’s up in the air. If we do it at all. I can stay longer.”

Which also increased her odds of at least crossing paths with Nate today, a fact Felix’s grin said he knew.

“I’m completely unoffended and ready to be your excuse for hanging around all day if you need it,” he winked.

Abigail blushed and reached to twirl her hair.but couldn’t find any loose bits and tugged at her ear instead. “No, I wanna hang out with you, I’m not just-”

“AJ, I’m teasing,” he cut her off with a laugh.

“Oh.” Her face warmed even more, heat spreading to her ears. “Good. I-I know I’m a bit....”

“Besotted? Smitten?” Felix filled in for her, grinning. “It’s okay, he is, too.”

Abigail bit her lip in a futile effort to hold back her smile.

“Oh! I almost forgot, i got you a present!” Felix twisted around to dig down between the cushion and arm of the couch.

“You didn’t have to-”

“AJ.” He tugged free a small orange and yellow wrapped gift. “It’s what friends do. You gave me something.”

She didn’t argue the point any further, mostly because he seemed so excited about giving her something, just took the present with  laugh and started working the tape loose until she could unwrap it. Another, louder laugh bubble up when she saw the contents. “Felix, I love them!”

The socks were a soft, minty green and patterned with ladybugs. There was a second pair underneath, light purple with honeybees. Both were adorable and looked very comfortable.

“Hey, I’m just glad to have a friend I can give this sort of thing and they actually appreciate it instead of, y’know, threatening violence,” Felix joked, but the glint in his amber eyes showed how proud he was of himself.

“Oh, yeah, they’re grand,” Abigail smiled. She immediately swapped out the plain blue socks she was wearing for the ladybugs, then tucked the honeybees and discarded pair in her jacket pocket so she wouldn’t forget them when she left. “Thanks a bunch.”

“Welcome.” He turned back to his original position and rested his feet on the coffee table again.

“You know you’re in for it if Nate catches you doin’ that, yeah?” she laughed.

“The operative part of that being Nate catching me,” Felix grinned, wiggling his toes.

“Oh, is it now?” a very familiar--mildly exasperated--voice asked from behind them. 

Felix twisted around and flashed a cheesy grin. “Hey, Nate. AJ was hoping you’d be back soon.”

And with that, he vaulted the back of the couch and zipped from the room. Nate, for all his exasperation, didn’t try to stop him.

He did shake his head even as he smiled at her. “He is...”

“Incorrigible?” Abigail supplied as she pushed to her feet and skirted around the couch.

Nate laughed, running a hand through his hair. “That is an excellent word for it, yes.”

“He’s also right; I was really hopin’ you’d be back b’fore I had t’ leave.”

“Well, here I am,” he smiled, and she didn’t try to quell the butterflies in her chest as he stepped into the room to meet her for a hug. “Happy birthday, Abigail,” he murmured into her hair, before kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for more of it.”

“S’alright, Felix made it plenty special so far,” Abigail said, hugging a little tighter before she loosened her grip to look up at him. “How’d it go?”

“Oh, fine.” Nate traced his thumb along her jaw. “Nothing extraordinary, and no complications.”

She huffed a laugh against his shirt. “There bein’ no complications is a little extraordinary for us, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps just a little,” he chuckled. “But I’m grateful for it.” 

“Oh, yeah, won’t hear me complainin’,” Abigail said with a smile, pushing up on her toes in an unspoken request for a kiss.

One Nate was all too willing to grant. “Me, neither.”

They held the kiss until Abigail’s legs started to ache and she dropped back flat-footed. She’d never realized how much difference the extra inch her boots gave her made. It was still a good kiss, made even better by the way Nate followed for a moment when gravity forced her to pull away, clearly reluctant as she was for it to end.

Abigail let out a soft, happy hum as she tucked herself close beneath his chin. ”An absolutely grand birthday to me...”

Nate chuckled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Content as you seem with how things stand, I do actually have a gift for you.”

“Gettin’ time with you is present enough.” She blushed at how cheesy it sounded and buried her face against his chest the second the words left her mouth, but that didn’t make them untrue

Nate .laughed. “A sentiment I appreciate more than you know.” His fingers brushed the back of her neck and a pleasant shiver rippled down her spine. “But this is something I very much want to give you.”

“Well, if you’re gonna insist..” Abigail teased. “Though I’ll warn ya, Felix gave me ladybug socks, so the bar is set pretty high, yeah?”

He kissed her forehead. “Consider me warned. It’s back in my room, I’ll go-”

“Oh, I’ll come with ya,” she said, slipping from their hug to lace her fingers with his. “I want all the time I can get.”

Nate nodded and squeezed her hand. “Fine with me. So what have you been doing today?”

She told him as they walked, and he smiled at her obvious enthusiasm for how she and Felix had passed the time. His smile widened slightly when she hesitated upon reaching the door to his room.

“You can come in, AJ. I’m not going to make you open your gift in the hall.” He tugged her hand gently so she’d follow. Which she did, even as the back of her neck and ears warmed. She’d not been in Nate’s room since the aftermath of the Trapper fight.

Once they were in the room, the door nudged half-closed behind them, Nate released her hand to cross to one of the closer bookshelves. Abigail moved to sit on the edge of the bed as he retrieved what he sought before joining her.

The box was not a large one, wrapped in plain(yet beautiful) dark blue paper and tied with a narrow brown ribbon. Real ribbon, not gift-wrapping ribbon. Abigail paused after freeing it and tied it around her bun before setting to work on the tape. The paper soon came away to reveal a sturdy, flat box. Inside that, a layer of soft tissue paper concealed and protected the actual gift. She set aside the lid and the wrapping paper, glanced up at Nate.

The faint smile curving his lips shone magnitudes brighter in his eyes and that intrigued her even more than all the layers she was working through. She bit her lip, looked back down, and gingerly moved the paper aside.

It registered first and immediately that it was books. Two small leather-bound volumes; one deep red, one rich brown. They were nice books. Probably old books, and that was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Another moment’s examination made it skip and stutter through several, and pulled a sharp, quiet gasp from her. The titles were in German, and she could only read the first word of each, but that was plenty for her to give a good guess.

She looked at Nate again, the words escaping quiet, breathless. “Are these...?”

“First editions,” he confirmed with a nod, the smile he’d been holding back breaking through in full force.

Abigail exhaled an unsteady breath, trembling fingers hovering over the books as if afraid to touch them, tracing the gold gilt letters of the word she knew in the air above the covers.

Heidi.

“This is...” Her voice broke, the lump in her throat too much to speak around.

“Your favorite. I know.” Nate leaned over and kissed her temple. “Happy birthday.”

Abigail let out a quiet(borderline hysterical) scoffing laugh, still staring at the books. “Nate...” She wasn’t even sure what to say. They were nearly pristine despite their age; thank you was woefully inadequate, I can’t would be ungrateful.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Nate touched her arm so she’d look at him. “They were given to me... a very long time ago” --when they were new, she read in his eyes, even if he didn’t specify-- “and have sat on a shelf ever since. Knowing how much you love this story, I’d much rather you have them.”

“I... they must be worth a lot.” The words escaped in a whispered rush and she winced and bit her lip. “Sorry. You’re not s’pposed’ta know that about presents.”

Nate just smiled. “They are. But far less to me than doing something that makes you happy.”

That was when it was too much, her heart was too full, and Abigail (gently) pushed aside the books to whirl around and hug him, which quickly--and unsurprisingly--turned into a kiss.

She was fast enough to catch him off-guard, and Nate started to topple backwards at her fervor, but he caught himself on one elbow. The other hand curved against her jaw, fingers just catching her hair, as he returned the kiss. He was smiling into it, and Abigail wondered if her own was even bigger. Probably.

She pressed further into the kiss, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck, until her lungs ached and heart pounded, then pulled back just far enough to gasp a breath. “Thank you,” she murmured fervently, less than an inch between their lips.

Nate’s fingers dug deeper into her hair, threatening the integrity of her bun.  “You’re welcome,” he managed, breathing ragged as her own, before tugging her in for another kiss.

Abigail sat back more completely when this one broke, glancing between Nate and the books with a huge grin on her face. Safe to say he outdid the ladybug socks, she thought, and couldn’t hold in a giggle.

“What?” Nate gave an amused smile and reached over to brush back hair tumbling free from her somewhat loosened bun.

“Just... not sure how today can get much better, yeah?” She caught his hand when he started to pull back and pressed a brief kiss to the base of his thumb before letting go. 

He ran his fingers over the spot as he withdrew his hand. “We could go read for a while, if you’ve the time.”

“Always, for you,” Abigail said as she turned to carefully close the box and collect his gift. (She missed the surge of emotion laid bare across his face at her words.) “So, I stand corrected.”

“Well, then.” Nate pushed off the bed, straightening the duvet slightly before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

She bit her lip,  not trusting her voice, and nodded as she linked her arm through his. The other hugged his present close. “Y’know,” she began with exaggerated innocence as they walked, “this is a wonderful present, the best anyone’s ever given me, but...” A pause, lips quirking mischievously. “I don’t know German.”

Nate chuckled, catching the teasing note under the words. “I do,” he said, with a smile one could almost call smug.

“Well, you’ll just hafta help me with that, then, wontcha?” Abigail laughed.

Nate looked at her warmly, brown eyes dancing with mirth and affection in equal measure. “Abigail, it would be my pleasure.”

She grinned and leaned her head against his arm for the rest of the walk to the library. Today was definitely shaping up to be her best birthday ever. It wasn’t flashy or ostentatious or even what most would consider exciting, but it was plenty special for her.

---

(AJ very deliberately does NOT look up what those books are worth, but I know from checking to get the cover colors right--between $1500-4000 each. Don’t tell her, she’ll faint)