#some say she is staff but what staff would be sharing guess info | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thekisforkeats · 4 years ago

Text

Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

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

The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned.

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

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

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #archives gang #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #ableism tw #jmart #canon tma fic

309 notes · View notes

downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 4 years ago

Text

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 2)

[Donnie x fem reader]

Sfw, part 1 here

Intellectually, Donnie was the best matchup for their leader as today was sparring day. He'd gone against his oldest brother many times, sometimes even coming out the victor himself, but today was just not his day.

He held his staff with that iron grip of his and waited for Leo to come at him. Donnie was more on the defensive than any of his brothers; he had to be. Out of all he was weakest physically but superior in calculations, but he was missing range in this matchup. Leo had a hard time disarming him as his katana could sometimes get lodged in the solid wood staff, giving Donnie leverage to perform the finisher in the short time it took him to dislodge his sword. He thought this time would be how that would happen.

"You're slow today, Donnie," Leo said as he lunged at his brother with a swing of his katana, forcing Donnie to step back. He was too focused on blocking Leo's rapid succession of attacks to respond.

Leo reeled back to swing his blade again but Donnie parried and struck his arm with his staff, shoving it aside. For a split second, Leo actually thought he was fixing to go down by this move if Donnie could hit him again quick enough. But his brother hesitated in thought, and without any reluctance himself, he used his other katana to put him in a compromising position. The match was over and Donnie was forced to stand down.

"Why did you hesitate?" Leo questioned him, lowering his blade. Raph watched from the sidelines with Mikey as they prepared to go up next. Since Leo was the winner, it was Raph's turn next to spar in his younger brother's place.

Donnie huffed and dropped his stance, putting his staff away. "It's just an off day," he replied. Splinter wasn't there to dictate today's training session and tournament, so Donnie was already on his way out to go to his lab by the time Raph stepped up to spar. But Leo sheathed his sword and put a hand on Donnie's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"You've been pretty eager to run back to your lab lately," Leo said matter-of-factly. He was wondering what was going on, why Donnie seemed weirdly distant the last couple of weeks. He had gone through a very withdrawn phase in earlier times upon entering his teenage years, but now, he was legitimately making everyone guess. He didn't snap at his brothers, and he wasn't any more impatient than usual. But something was different. He'd been spending a lot more time holed up in his lab, which everyone began to notice. Leo wanted to know what was wrong.

Donnie shifted and shrugged, "Like I said, I've been busy with some projects. Also, it's not like I have much to do out here beside training and patrol."

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Mikey jumped on between them. "You missed game night last week! You never miss it," he butted in. Both Donnie and Leo gave him a look as if to say really? and he added in, "Well, uh...not usually."

Gently moving Mikey aside, Leo wanted to continue, but he saw Donnie staring at him expecting a follow-up when he didn't really have one. Whatever this was, Leo knew that coming at Donnie with questions was not the way to go about it. So he stepped back and gave his brother some space.

"We all have off days," Leo said finally after an awkward moment of silence. "Just work on your speed, Don."

"Got it."

With that, Donnie turned to leave, and Raph entered the ring to go against Leo in the last match of the night.

Once Donnie was gone, Leo got ready to spar with Raph. As they got into position, he contemplated bringing this recent development up with the other two, but decided against it in the end. He didn't want to incriminate Donnie, especially with Raph's assertive approach to handling things. Donnie could be somewhat flighty at times when it came to resolving matters of emotion, at times a little too introspective, but Leo couldn't fault him—he had his own struggles with that very thing, too.

Done, finally, Donnie thought as he skirted into his lab and started up the game. He was late to the party quite literally; training lasted longer than he'd thought, and he was disappointed to see that his newest friend was online, but not responding to his invite. Did everyone get together and play without him? After a few minutes, he almost decided on giving up. The instance made him contemplate whether he even wanted to continue this. Perhaps he'd been too eager.

He sighed. And then the menu pinged, and he was there reading the message in an instant.

Hey, sorry I partied up without you, I just didn't know if you were gonna be on or not :/

Without even thinking, he licked his lips typed back, repeatedly deleting and retyping his message to make sure it was casual but not too casual, apologetic but not desperate—

It's okay, don't worry about it

Likewise sorry it took me so long to get here.

That would do. He'd be lying to say he wasn't feeling that flutter in his stomach; the excitement of something new got to him in a way that only a discovery in his research did, or how he felt when he mastered a new technique in his training.

Let's get started then :)

They started the game, and this time he kept the mic on, as she did. They talked back and forth as they fought creatures and enemies and looted things, eventually coming to learn that she herself was in New York City. He was surprised; suddenly, the world felt a lot smaller, and he couldn't concentrate on just playing after that. The time they spent became more of an opportunity to converse than to play a mundane game for hours on end.

At some point, she switched the topic to his whereabouts. Donnie's breath hitched.

"I'm...not anywhere near. So it doesn't really matter," he told her, cringing. If the guys found out—if Splinter found out—he would be in such trouble.

"Oh," she paused for a moment, trying to find something to say. "That's alright, I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me, you know?"

He'd muted his mic to release a deep breath. He got lost in thought thinking about how in that moment, he wanted to be human. If he weren't a giant mutant turtle, he could actually form a connection with someone. It was a very "Mikey" thing to think, he reckoned, but at times he wanted friends just like his brother did.

"Yeah, sorry, I just…"

"It's really no problem, dude."

He felt as though he could hear the smile in her voice. What did she look like, he wondered. He wanted to see her, but he couldn't ask for that when he could never do the same. If he could get her name, he'd be in the clear to do some preliminary lookups on this person, but so far, she'd been dodgy about sharing info about herself as well. He couldn't blame her. They were two strangers online, one with a huge secret and the other completely in the dark about who he truly was. For all she knew, he could have been a creep, looking to stalk her online and perhaps do even worse. The thought made him feel almost nauseous, how she could be considering that about him as a possibility as they spoke. But she seemed comfortable enough. Unlike him, who was still slightly skeptical of the entire thing, because after spending his whole life in practical isolation, he was at a loss as to what to say or do after a certain point. The conversation died off and both of them thought simultaneously about how weird the sudden silence between them felt.

She hummed, as if searching for something to bring up. When she spoke, he was taken aback—"Hey, I'm gonna be honest, I really like talking to you but this game is getting boring. Do you wanna chat somewhere else?"

"Uh…" he trailed off, mind shooting blanks. Oh, was it just a horrible idea. He couldn't keep the jig up forever; the truth was bound to get revealed somewhere down the line. He was fixing to reject the proposition, tell her that he didn't want to take it that far. She could be anyone. The likelihood of it being a clever ruse on account of the Foot Clan was slim, but the paranoia still worked ambiently in the background noise of his mind. But his other doubt stopped him—when would he ever have a chance at this again? He wanted to have the strength to say no and leave it at that. The loneliness that crept up on him from time to time had something else to say.

"Yeah," he answered after a terribly long pause of mumbling, fighting with himself all the way as she told him where to add her. He could have kicked himself had it not been for the fact that he knew how to encrypt data, and that as long as he didn't leak a word about his inner circle or life, it would be okay. It didn't feel okay, though.

"Nice! I'll text you, see you later, Bo. I had a lot of fun tonight," she chirped.

Before he could respond, she was gone from the party, and the mic went silent. It happened so fast. He was barely caught up with the fact that he was now receiving messages and prompts to talk, but he couldn't bring himself to answer right away. He had to refocus his logic; how could this be used by the enemy as a way to get to them? Could they have somehow anticipated he'd download this game and find this random on there? The more the thought about it, the more glaringly obvious it was that it was not the case. It was just too improbable.

"The probability of the Foot being able to simulate such a specific scenario in order to get intel on us is so slim, it is practically non-existent," he told himself as he finally pulled up the messages. He read through them. "Approximately a zero-point-zero-zero-zero..."

My name is (Y/N), by the way :)

Well, that was easier than expected. He figured that somehow, the name suited you—a fitting name for such a personality. But it also gave him a glimmer of hope. It made him want to ask why you appeared to trust him, as he could be anyone on the Earth over the screen, not his benevolent self. Which she had no way of proving, technically. But he soon came to realize the screen painted him in a whole new light that it casted on him. It hit then that he could be anyone. He didn't have to be himself; not necessarily. She'd never have to know, as he could wear a human mask and she'd be none the wiser. Problem was, the lying made him feel guilty, and slowly would develop to be the thorn in his side.

Donnie thoughtfully stared at the screen. Now that he was here, some of his anxiety began to fade. He found himself actually able to talk, someone to listen to his tangents and even build upon them. They spent hours texting back and forth about anything and everything until it was almost time for him to put the phone down to leave for patrol. He felt giddy, like a kid, all over again.

________________________________________

Had you ever been able to talk to someone this easily?

You asked yourself that question as you exchanged with the faceless and nameless stranger over your screen, chatting from afternoon to night. Time flew by in an instant, with him, and you loved every minute. He was someone intellectual, but funny and so easy to talk to that it was as though the conversation carried itself. After some time he came out about his age after you revealed yours. Oftentimes, he'd just present to you a random question when the subject tapered off and run with it, like now:

What do you think of reptiles?

Puzzled, you took a second to reply. Odd question.

Why do you ask? Do you have one?

I was just curious

What do you think of them?

The chat indicator flip-flopped between "typing" and "idle" a few times before a message finally popped up, and you smiled. You'd learned over this short time that he was a dork in a cute way.

Well...I think they're pretty cool.

They've got natural armor and you would be surprised to know just how fast a turtle can be

You laughed a little to yourself. It was such a random thing to bring up, yet you were endeared. Deciding you'd go along with it, you asked him what else he knew about turtles.

Well...

__________________________________________________

Donnie was wondering what he was talking about just as much as she probably was. Stupid, he thought, facepalming. His first time really speaking with a human as an equal and he starts talking about turtles. Of course he knew a lot about them, he was one himself—but for some reason he found himself wanting to dispel myths and misunderstandings about turtles as if they reflected on him, when as far as she knew, he was just a human guy like herself.

He groaned lightly and typed, thinking up a fact that wasn't too conspicuous.

Red eared sliders are semi-aquatic.

As he typed the next part, he caught himself writing "we" instead of "they", to his dismay. He quickly fixed the error and continued, feeling weirdly exposed as it was almost as though in sharing this information, he was putting himself under a microscope for her to inspect.

They can hold their breath for up to thirty minutes, usually

Holding his breath was something he'd tested numerous times before. He and his brothers had actually made a game out of it on a few occasions, with Leo leading at thirty-three minutes, Donnie in second at thirty-one. Raph broke at twenty-nine minutes and Mikey followed behind in last at just twenty-seven. The ability could be trained, nonetheless.

That's interesting, I wonder what it's like to be able to go underwater so long?

It's kind of cool, you should try sometime

For THIRTY MINUTES?

Shit. He promptly replied:

No—not like I can hold my breath that long, I just mean you should try to see sometime I guess

I tested it just for the fun of it.

Looking up how long humans could hold their breath on average (between thirty seconds and two minutes), he bumped the number up a little bit and added:

Personally, I'm at two minutes and forty-five seconds

He was embarrassed, partially covering his face as he waited for a response. Such a foolish slip-up; he couldn't afford to say anything cryptic. But he still was fairly sure that he had recovered that alright. He couldn't help but think about how awkward or weird he seemed to her. Who talked about this?

I don't think I could hold my breath for more than a minute, kudos to you haha

Anyway, sorry to switch gears all of a sudden but if you don't mind me asking, what's up with your family? You have any siblings?

He told her no. He would not bring his brothers into this, lest it be the slim chance of a ploy, after all. He said his family situation was unconventional and left it at that.

With that, he said to her goodnight and put his phone away, getting up to go get geared for patrol. It was only then he noticed the figure leaning against the doorway.

Chapter 3

#tmnt #donatello #tmnt donnie x reader #donatello x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fanfiction #sfw #fanfiction #romance #writing

290 notes · View notes

lunaajade · 4 years ago

Text

Everything You Need to Know about “Shadow and Bone” on Netflix (*UPDATED: POSSIBLE LANGUAGE OF THORNS ADAPTATION INFO)

Since it’s recently been confirmed that we’d be getting S&B content in a few days (finally!), I thought I’d compile and summarize as much info as I could to refresh everyone’s memories! Please spread the word/share this post to those who aren’t up to date! (I’ve seen some people online who are worried about how it’s going to turn out, and I’d like to be able to hopefully reassure those people)

Now, there’s a LOT of stuff, so there’s always the chance I missed/forgot something. This post will be split up into categories based on type of info, so here we go! I went back and listened to/watched both of the big live streams (NYCC and the S&B Charity Competition), went on the Grishaverse Reddit, etc. to find as much (extra/bonus) stuff as I could. (If I missed anything/got something wrong, please feel free to leave a comment!)

Update: A lot of people have been asking where it was confirmed we were getting content soon. I found out from one of the update accounts I follow.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

General/Key Info About the Show

-This first season will be adapting both “Shadow and Bone” and what has been dubbed a “Book 0″ (most likely meaning prequel/backstory/set-up) for “Six of Crows” -In relation to the above point, the timelines are being brought together for the show. (Normally in the books, the two series are set two years apart)(We don’t know how exactly or what this means for the story, but I have a really interesting theory that I thought up in relation to this, message me if you’d like to hear it.) -Leigh acknowledges and understands that some of us have doubts and are worried about the show, but she has publicly assured us (numerous times) of how much she loves the show and cast, how well she thinks the crew/writers did in bringing the Grishaverse to life, etc. See a later point below in the Facts/Tidbits section -The first season will have 8, one-hour long episodes -Alina has been made half Shu (half Asian) for the show! Leigh stated that was decided on after she and Eric had a lengthy discussion on Alina’s character. -The main cast (as in confirmed to be in all episodes) is comprised of Jessie Mei Li (as Alina), Archie Renaux (as Mal), Ben Barnes (as the Darkling), Freddy Carter (as Kaz), Amita Suman (as Inej), and Kit Young (as Jesper) -Wylan and Nikolai are NOT in the first season. (Nikolai didn’t appear until the second book, and Leigh confirmed that at this point in the story, the Crows had not met Wylan yet.) -Other cast members include Danielle Galligan (as Nina), Calahan Skogman (as Matthias), Daisy Head (as Genya), Sujaya Dasgupta (as Zoya), Luke Pasqualino (as David), Julian Kostov (as Fedyor), Simon Sears (as Ivan), Zoe Wanamaker (as Baghra), and more! -The Darkling will also be called “General Kirigan” in the show. From what we know, The Darkling will be the “enemy” to Ravka (so in essence, General Kirigan is his alias/fake persona (what he’ll most likely be referred to for most of the show), and no one knows that he’s actually their enemy. (Meaning it’ll most likely a super big moment when they learn their general was actually the Darkling in disguise)). -The show was shot on location in Budapest, Hungary. (And additional filming took place this past fall in Vancouver) -In order, the 8 episodes are titled the following: “A Searing Burst of Light”, “We’re All Someone’s Monster”, “The Making at the Heart of the World”, “Otkazat’sya”, “Show Me Who You Are”, “The Heart is An Arrow”, “The Unsea”, & “No Mourners”.

Other (Fun) Facts/Tidbits About the Show

-Upon seeing Jessie’s audition, Leigh loved her audition/portrayal of Alina so much that she apparently stated that she wanted her to play Alina or she’d be out of the project. She was sent five auditions to watch, Jessie’s was the third, and she said she didn’t bother watching the rest of them. -Leigh stated that she and Eric Heisserer (the creator of the show) said they were on the same page from the first meeting. All other past meetings with producers and companies about possible adaptations had left her with a bad feeling, but she said they’d had the same ideas about inclusion, story, staff, etc. She said she’s loved the respect he’s shown towards the work (and, in a way, to us the fans) -Netflix apparently also has the rights to adapt “The Language of Thorns” , though we’ve gotten no info on that adaptation yet. (UPDATE: I just watched a Leigh Bardugo event from Feb 2019 (a few weeks after the show was first announced, I think): As of that day, she said that she thought that they were going to use LoT more for "texture” (IMO that might mean worldbuilding?) in the show. And I don’t know if she was talking about LoT specifically because she was very vague, but she said that there were certain things in the show that she thinks readers will be really excited about. Again, this was over a year ago, back when they were still in pre-production and stuff, so don’t take my word for it. Besides this, I couldn’t find anything else relating to a possible LoT adaptation. Maybe they’ll have the stories from LoT appear as actual folk tales told in the show, and that’s the “adaptation”? IDK. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpHnw8Ygw5c&t=1906s)) -Leigh is an exec. producer on the show! I’m no expert, so I don’t know how much say/power she had in the process, but she definitely had some. -There is a RAVKAN edition of the “Shadow and Bone” book that Leigh says makes a cameo in the show! -Jesper’s guns had custom etchings done on them by a Hungarian antique gunsmith! (And they were so good that Leigh and Eric said that it looked like it belonged in a museum--they were also described to be quite heavy!) -Eric Heisserer is the creator of the show, he is an award-winning writer, well known for “Arrival”, “Bird Box”, and more. (If I remember correctly, Leigh said that he’d reached out to her about making the show!) -A DeKappel painting (maybe the one owned by Van Eck?) was confirmed to be in the pilot episode. -Pekka Rollins and Tante Heleen have been confirmed to be in the first season, but their casting has (up to this point) not yet been revealed. -Bo Yul-Bayur is confirmed to be in the show! (Though Kuwei has not) -Leigh will have a cameo in (I think) Episode 5! She will be wearing a Materialki kefta and will be opening a door, if I remember correctly. -A lot of the crew was also extremely passionate about the project and fans of the books -The “Lives of Saints” book that was published in October is an actual book/prop that is appearing in the show! -I’m personally fine with Mal, but Leigh says that Archie is going to change everyone’s minds with his portrayal! -The costume designer for the show is Wendy Partridge, known for her work on “Thor: The Dark World”, “Pompeii”, and more! -The composer for the show is Joe Trapanese, known for composing for “The Greatest Showman”, “Straight Outta Compton”, “Lady and the Tramp”, and more! At the NYCC Grishaverse panel, they revealed a little bit of the score (”Grisha Theme”): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFxIEbsHKJA

Fun Cast/On Set Stories/Facts

-The cast all loves each other, and are all extremely passionate about this show, which is great! (Leigh said that on her second visit to the set, she heard them singing together) -Leigh says that Ben Barnes once snuck up behind her on her first day on set and scared her by whispering “Fine, make me your villain” -Freddy’s favorite Grishaverse book is “Six of Crows”, but most specifically the first line of chapter 2 (”Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason.”) -Jessie would apparently come to set on some of her days off to support the cast and crew! -Sujaya has stated that her favorite Grishaverse character is Nikolai! (#Zoyalai) -Freddy has become famous/popular with the fandom, one of the reasons being because he often comments on posts/live streams asking something along the lines of “What was it like working with Freddy Carter? xoxo” -Danielle loves Nina and her journey in “King of Scars” -According to a Tweet, Freddy and Leigh said that there had been a scene with “a very pesky gate”--Freddy said that it “wouldn’t be proper to tweet the expletives [he] used that day” and that he thinks he “scarred” Amita and Eric. -Amita’s favorite thing about Inej is her silence, and her favorite Grishaverse book is “Six of Crows” (as of May, where we learned this during a live-stream, she said she’s read it three times and listened to the audiobook twice.) -There was a waffle truck on set on the last day of shooting! -Calahan says that if he could play any other Grishaverse character, he’d want to play Nikolai! -While she did work with the trainer to get more physically fit, Amita learned most of her knife techniques by herself! -Leigh said she cried a lot while on set! (She said there was one scene they were shooting that she has a very clear, vivid memory of writing many years back--based on the context of which she was talking about it, if I had to guess, I’d guess she’s describing the Winter Fete.) -Leigh also said that on one of her first days on set, it was funny/weird to see all the extras in First Army uniforms chilling on their phones, drinking coffee, etc. -One of Calahan’s favorite character dynamics in the books is the dynamic between Kaz and Matthias -There was a moment where Amita was fully in costume and doing amazing, graceful knife work, only to trip and fall when she’d finished. -Amita and Jessie and Sujaya were best friends on set. -Sujaya loved everything about playing Zoya. (Especially her confidence) -Leigh says one of her favorite props was Kaz’s cane, especially because of what it meant to her and the story. -If he could be any Grisha order, Calahan says he’d want to be a Corporalki -Calahan loves Matthias’s journey/arc. -Kit’s favorite Grishaverse book is “Crooked Kingdom”!

Links

-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X65iI1YXrbU (NYCC Grishaverse Panel) -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHou5rVs6o0 (S&B Talent Show Charity Live Stream ft. the S&B Cast!--the IG video got taken down because Archie deleted his IG account and switched to a new one) -https://www.netflix.com/title/80236319 (”Shadow and Bone” on Netflix!) -https://twitter.com/shadowandbone_ (Official “Shadow and Bone” Twitter!) -https://www.instagram.com/shadowandbone/?hl=en (Official “Shadow and Bone” Instagram!) -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRh-Pmbynww (Annoucement made by cast when filming wrapped! (can be found on the social media accounts, but here’s a link to YT)) -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bpY8uLtyB4 (A S&B Cast Crack video by HeartPhantom--it highlights a lot of the inside jokes and memes that we’ve gotten to witness among the cast, and also just generally shows off how hilariously chaotic everyone is (this cast is the definition of chaotic good, lol))

139 notes · View notes

missusk · 3 years ago

Photo

Rolling With the Punches (Raihan x OC x Leon) Commissioned by @poneshyay Commission info

~~ “Fritter, move,” Aminia huffed in exasperation, again nudging at the Appletun lounging in the middle of the walkway behind the counter. “I can’t risk dropping another dozen rolls.”

The Appletun let out a lackadaisical yawn as he bumbled to the other side of the walkway, though his large abdomen only left room for maybe a foot of space. Aminia rolled her eyes and stepped over her lazy Pokémon, careful not to drop the freshly baked rolls. As she set them into the glass case, she wondered that may have been Fritter’s plan all along – to get a free roll by tripping his Trainer and causing them to rain down from the platter. The woman chuckled to herself, pat Fritter on the head, then stepped into the back room to continue her work.

It was an early morning at the Biscuit and Fritter bakery, though the owner didn’t mind too much. The time before opening gave Aminia space to efficiently prepare for the day, and she was absorbed in her tasks until the front door opening caught her attention.

“I’ll be right with you!” she called from the back. The greeting was just a formality, seeing as she could count on three fingers who had a key to her bakery, and she was one of them.

“No need, Mini,” came a familiar voice, and Aminia smiled at the sound when she poked her head out.

“Hi Rai,” she said. “Give me maybe 5 more minutes? I can chat for a little bit before the shop opens.”

Raihan nodded and pulled out his phone, content to wait for his girlfriend to finish her opening duties. He did pluck Fritter off the ground though, since the Appletun was doing a great job of extending the shop-opening process. Fritter was happily snoozing on Raihan’s lap when Aminia stepped out - it was certainly a cute sight, but what really caught her attention was Raihan’s face. It was stoic with a cold anger, his eyes wide and mouth in a straight line – certainly not what she was expecting from her usually cheerful boyfriend.

“Rai?” she started as she rushed over. Raihan was still looking at his phone. “What is it, are you okay?”

Raihan didn’t speak, but instead held out his phone. There was a news article on the screen, its title in big bold letters:

CHAMPION LEON’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP?

Aminia’s heart dropped. What was just a warm and cozy morning smelling of fresh bread and sweet frosting was now suddenly dark, dank, and filled with dread. The three of them had successfully kept their relationship secret for this long, how on earth did someone find out? Raihan answered the unspoken question by rewinding the article’s accompanying video.

“Leon, Mr. Leon!” came a reporter’s tinny voice from the screen. “You’ve been invited to collaborate with Kalos’ Pokémon League – why?”

“The details are still in the works,” came Leon’s ever-friendly response, even to pestering paparazzi, as he waved to fans crowding around him. Something seemed off about him… his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his shoulders seemed stiff. While his cheerful tone could convince almost anybody, Aminia was not so easily fooled. She knew her boyfriend well, and for whatever reason, he was not liking the attention this time around…

“Is it because of a secret relationship with Champion Diantha?” the reporter pressed. “Are you visiting Kalos just to spend time with your girlfriend?”

“Aminia doesn’t live in Kalos, she’s got her bakery here,” Leon said absentmindedly as he tried to make his way through the crow. He stopped mid-track when gasps erupted around him.

“Who is Aminia?”

“Mr. Leon, is Aminia your girlfriend?”

“Leon! Champion Leon, are you in a relationship?”

“Leon!”

Leon quickly regained his composure, flashing a grin to the crowds. “I’ve got to get going, but more details about the collaboration are soon to come! We’ll definitely have a champion time, though!”

The frame froze, and Aminia and Raihan locked eyes. The only sound in the bakery was Fritter’s soft snores as the two processed what they both witnessed. Raihan was the first to react. He slammed his fist on the table, causing Fritter to leap off his lap in shock.

“Ugh!” he spat, standing from the table and pacing around the empty bakery. “It’s that rubbish reporter again! She always knows just what to say and when to say it to get everyone to spill their guts on accident!”

“What?” Aminia asked, standing as well. “What reporter? Rai, what are you talking about?”

Raihan stopped pacing. His eyes flicked around the bakery, never once meeting Aminia’s, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t until she gently took his hand that Raihan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“There’s been news about me having a girlfriend too,” Raihan mumbled defeatedly. “Same broad, she’s a nosy thing. That same reporter cornered me after an exhibition match when I was distracted, I let it slip I was going to my girlfriend’s place after.”

“When was this?” she asked. “And when was that video?”

“…Both were yesterday,” Raihan confessed, and Aminia let out a groan. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I know you don’t want the attention from the press. I tried to play it cool, but it turned out just as bad as Leon’s.”

After a few seconds and a deep sigh, Aminia regained her composure.

“Okay, that’s fine,” she said, slowly finding the light in the darkness. “This won’t be so bad. You just mentioned you had a girlfriend, and, well, Lee said my name and profession, but that doesn’t mean everything is ruined! Maybe no one will put the pieces together.”

Raihan’s scowl slowly shifted back into a smile, and after a roll of the eyes, he stepped over to pull Aminia into a hug. His chuckle rumbled through her, and he gave her another squeeze.

“I love you,” he said through a laugh. “Always so positive.”

Aminia squeezed Raihan in return, reveling in the feeling of her boyfriend’s arms. She let herself be held for a moment, before offering another squeeze then heading back to wipe off the front counter before opening.

Maybe it really would be fine. Yeah, some people knew her and her bakery, but who listens to news stories like that, anyway? It wasn’t even news, just tabloid rubbish. People always wondered if Leon and Raihan had partners, being that they were the most attractive bachelors in Galar, so this wasn’t really anything new, right? Minus the part where Raihan confirmed he had a girlfriend, and the part where Leon shared her name and profession…

“So, is anyone else here?” Raihan asked, his voice tearing Aminia from her thoughts.

“Not yet,” Aminia replied. “The morning staff don’t come in yet.”

She didn’t pay the question much mind, until she felt something pressing against her back. She turned to see Raihan’s tall frame hovering over her, quickly bringing a blush to her cheeks when her eyes met the mischievous glint in Raihan’s. He was biting his lip suggestively, then leaning in, only for Aminia to turn.

“Rai,” Aminia mumbled as her cheeks flushed. “I’m on the clock.”

“You run the shop,” Raihan purred, whispering against her cheek. “Why don’t we take a quick break in the back?”

“Raihan,” Aminia said more sternly. When he offered her a puppy-dog pout, she let out a laugh, rolled her eyes, gave him a chaste kiss, then froze when a flash erupted from the front of the shop.

They both whipped their heads to the source of the light, only to see a retreating reporter kicking up dust as she sprinted away. Aminia’s blood turned cold as the bakery yet again fell silent.

“Shit,” Raihan grunted.

“Yeah,” Aminia agreed before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Maybe… it’ll be fine?” Raihan offered, though neither of them believed that. Their attention turned to a noise in the back of the shop.

“Rai, Aminia!” came Leon’s voice from the back entrance. “You in here?”

“Unfortunately,” Raihan called. They both quickly hid away in the back of the bakery, where a frazzled Leon was waiting for them.

“I take it you saw my slip up?” Leon asked guiltily, eyes flicking between the two.

“Not your fault,” Raihan replied quickly. “That reporter gets the best of anyone she talks to.”

“I’m sorry,” Leon said, stepping forward to give Aminia a hug. “Maybe no one will put the pieces together?”

“I said the same thing,” Aminia chuckled. “But looks like that same reporter followed you here. How long do you think it’ll be until-“

Aminia’s sentence was interrupted by a pounding on the front door. The three inconspicuously peeked their heads out of the back room, only for all their jaws to drop. Outside the glass doors stood a crowd of people, all peering in, standing on their toes, each trying to get a glimpse of the no-longer-as-mysterious girlfriend of Champion Leon and Gym Leader Raihan.

“My guess is not long,” Leon sighed.

“So, shall I start making more rolls?” Raihan asked suddenly. “Looks like you have quite a few new customers.”

“I can frost the cookies,” Leon offered, immediately catching onto Raihan’s offer. “I’ve always wanted to use one of those frosting squeezer things.”

Aminia’s gaze flicked between her two boyfriend’s. While this wasn’t exactly how she was planning to start another day of business, their eager faces reminded her yet again of why she fell in love with the two. Her lips tugged into a smile, then she stepped up to offer both a kiss. After tying her apron securely, she stepped back, filled with a new confidence because of the men beside her.

“Let’s roll.”

18 notes · View notes

florrickandassociates · 3 years ago

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x04- And the clerk had a firm...

You can tell I’m enjoying this season when episodes air on Thursdays and I’ve written a recap by Friday night. More under the cut, as always.

I woke up very early on Thursday morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to just watch this episode on my phone (I write these on rewatch). I’m sure the show was hoping that the upside-down clips of fake!Love Island would be disorienting, but wow, did this work on me. Between the lack of sleep and how plausible it would’ve been for me to accidentally have my phone upside-down with rotation lock on... I truly thought it was an ad for Love Island and also had to pause the episode to check my phone settings. Good job, show!

It turns out, however, that Carmen is doing a headstand and watching reality TV on her laptop. Very happy to see Carmen at home. It would be easy for the show to have her just be a mysterious presence at the firm, so even seeing her do perfectly normal things is a good reminder that she is a whole person and not just Associate Who Will Defend Anyone.

(I wouldn’t have expected Carmen to enjoy reality tv, but then again, I love Big Brother so...)

Carmen lives in a studio that doesn’t look like it is brand new!!! I’m ridiculously excited to see an apartment that actually looks like a place someone fresh out of law school might live. I’d believe it if Carmen lived in a studio in a luxury building or a one-bed on the salary she’s surely making at RL, but it’s very refreshing to see a character who isn’t super-wealthy on this show that tends to be about, well, very wealthy people.

Carmen is smarter than every other character on this show and on most TV shows: instead of opening the door without taking any precautions, she puts the chain on first. Remember how people used to just show up at Alicia’s door when she was the governor’s wife, and she’d always just open the door and look surprised?

Charles Lester is at Carmen’s door even though it’s nearly midnight. She tries to get him to leave, but he insists on staying. She closes the door to undo the chain, and uses the privacy of the closed door to grab a makeshift weapon, just in case.

Carmen explains her apartment by saying, “student loans.” So she doesn’t come from (excessive) money. (Or she was cut off by her family, but I feel like the early character description of Carmen said something about her family not having money.)

Lester has something very important to tell Carmen, but all his notes are on different scraps of paper and, even though he says his information is time sensitive, he takes his time looking for the right piece of paper.

He says Carmen can’t say she heard the info from him, blah blah. He’s there to share that in ten minutes, someone at the firm is going to be searched by the FBI. This info comes, of course, from Rivi.

Do we think Lester has to reference his notes to remember that the FBI is searching a name partner of Carmen’s firm? Or do we think he’s fucking with her? I think the latter.

Carmen was doing exercises to help with migraines, btw.

Carmen calls Diane to tip her off. Diane and Kurt are already asleep, but luckily, Diane has her phone on full volume and takes the call. She’s not happy about it and asks if it can wait until tomorrow. Asks is the wrong word—she instructs the caller to hang up if it can wait.

Even though Carmen can’t say where she got the information, Diane knows it must be from Rivi. Seems obvious enough.

Kurt gets out of bed and starts locking up guns and getting to work; Diane calls Liz. Liz is in bed with a guy we’ve never seen before and she does not really want to talk.

Liz notes that the info also could’ve come from Wolfe-Coleman, since Carmen is “tangled up with some rough characters.”

I’m sorry, fake Netflix CEO man... WHY ARE YOU STILL TRYING TO KISS AND PLAY WITH LIZ WHEN SHE IS ON THE PHONE TALKING ABOUT PURGING FILES AND THE FBI????

I don’t even hold this against the character. This is one of those things the writers of this show LOVE doing to heighten tension. They think people behave like this in real life and that it’s funny to have a million competing priorities at once, so they insist on doing things like this. In reality, I would be concerned about any person who did not hear “FBI” and go, “um, what the hell is happening? I should stop trying to fuck rn.”

Kurt starts burning papers. Is no one going to point out that maybe being on the phone (after you KNOW you’ve had NSA issues) talking about tips from powerful criminals and asking questions that are pretty clearly about document destruction... is a bad strategy?

Dude, why are you STILL GOING after Liz clearly tells you to stop!? Do you want me to hate you?!

Liz adds Jay to the call. He is asleep and also his hallucination from the premiere is (sadly) back. I still don’t get what they’re going for with this, so I’ll just be happy that (1) there is only one hallucination this time and (2) it’s only on screen for a minute.

This dude is really chanting “Let me see ‘em!” at Liz while she is on a frantic work call! This is how we are introduced to him! This is not funny! If this weren’t being played for laughs/to raise the stakes by having a lot going on I would be calling this man misogynistic!

Liz remembers that Diane has full boxes of files! They spill onto the floor as she tries to hide them! Drama!

And then the FBI arrives, so Diane asks Liz to take her 9 am with Wackner

The FBI enters, accompanied by... Nancy Crozier! Nancy is now an AUSA for some reason!

Nancy has graduated from “just a girl from Michigan” to using her pregnancy for dramatic effect. I guess she’s aged into being Patti Nyholm, or something. (I would LOVE to see Patti Nyholm show up on TGF.)

I know the client files are top of mind for Diane, but isn’t it kind of obvious that the FBI would be there about Kurt, given that the FBI was talking to Kurt days earlier?

9 mins in is early for credits!! (This first act flies, too—did not feel like 9 minutes.)

I say this once an episode, but isn’t it so fun to see all the characters from season one of TGW pop up in season five of TGF?

Liz sees her new man, Del Cooper, in reception. He’s a client. They try to be professional with each other. Liz remembers Diane’s 9 am with Wackner and asks the receptionist to tell her when he arrives. She dismissively says it’s “Some judge guy.” Wackner is, of course, already there and watching the interaction with interest. He uses this as an opportunity to “look for the restroom,” observe Liz meeting with someone else, and walk down to the associate floor.

He asks associate Leah (we’ve definitely seen her several times before) where he’s supposed to go for the staff meeting. She asks if he means the partner meeting or the associate one—he wants whichever is more interesting. She says she only knows about the associate meeting, and so he tags along.

Leah and Lucy (the associate from last week; Michael Boatman’s daughter) talk and assume that Wackner is from STR Laurie and thus in charge of the fate of their careers.

The associate meeting is fairly small—Leah refers to it as their “daily” so I wonder if it’s more like a team meeting than a meeting of all the associates.

The COTW is about a comedian who isn’t always PC. FakeNetflix is getting a lot of Twitter pushback.

“Ah, so you’re worried about being cancelled,” Liz notes. “Don’t say the ‘C’ word,” Del jokes. Then he asks the firm to do a sensitivity read of the comedian’s act.

Liz asks why them. David doesn’t get why she’s asking, though obviously Liz knows he won’t be offended by her question since they have a relationship outside of work. Del thinks that RL is the right firm for this task because they are a black firm, and also because this can be an audition for the rest of their legal business.

This seems like it is better for a PR firm or image consultant? Not a law firm? But sure.

Diane explains the whole January 6th situation to Liz. Liz immediately understands that if Kurt is in trouble, Diane is the one representing him. Because Kurt is Kurt, I’m willing to accept the “spouses-representing-each-other" trope here. But let the record reflect that, as always on this show, it is a TERRIBLE idea to have your spouse represent you! Just pick someone outside of the firm! JUST PICK ELSBETH, KURT.

Diane asks how her 9 am went; David Lee interrupts to ask Liz why she is being so casual with Del. “David, I am on the phone,” Liz responds. I love that she doesn’t really answer him.

Leah and Lucy try to turn the associate meeting into a showcase of how great they are; the other associates catch on quickly and all are happy to answer Wackner’s questions. He wants to understand jury trials.

Nancy’s pregnancy act does not work on Judge Farley, yet she keeps it up anyway. Court doesn’t go well for Diane, but it also doesn’t go well for Nancy.

Some of these interactions remind me a little too much of Peter’s trial at the end of TGW, like this one where Nancy goes to Diane with information about Kurt.

Leah gets off the elevator as Diane and Nancy talk, and to Diane’s surprise, Wackner is shadowing Leah! She takes a moment to look surprised before we return to the scene with Nancy.

I like all the little interactions within this Wackner plot. Diane asking Liz to meet with Wackner both connects Wackner to Liz AND shows that Diane would turn to Liz for back-up, and having Wackner/Leah run into Diane in court is a good reminder that even though Diane is dealing with a pressing issue, Wackner hasn’t just disappeared.

Diane encourages Kurt to talk. She wants to know if he’s not telling her something because she’s his wife or because she’s his lawyer. This is maybe why you don’t hire your wife as your lawyer.

Kurt says it’s because of politics—Diane doesn’t like that, since this is one issue where their politics should be shared.

“Diane, this works between us because we don’t let our political judgements overwhelm our respect for each other,” Kurt explains. But... is that relevant to this particular issue?

Diane asks the same question, essentially, noting that January 6th changed “everything” for her and she can’t treat this like a “chess game” anymore. Kurt wants to know what she’s calling a chess game. She says their marriage is the one thing that’s not a game.

On one level I understand exactly what Diane is saying and on another level I have no clue what this dialogue actually means. She can’t treat things like a game anymore, but also their marriage is the only thing that isn’t a game? So does that mean she can treat everything else like a game, then? I think what she’s trying to say is that the time for seeing political disagreements as a calm and rational game of strategy is over, and that she values her marriage and won’t play around with it.

Kurt tells her what he burned—a list of people in his little group. He says he’d protect them just like he’d protect Diane’s book group friends. Oh, wow, I was not EVER expecting to hear about that arc again! This is a pretty perfect time to mention it, though, since Kurt DID protect book group for the exact same reason he’s protecting the members of his club.

Other than “winning over a new client is important,” I have no idea why Liz and David Lee would gather together a group of partners to do the sensitivity read. I don’t know who IS the appropriate person to do the sensitivity read, given that this is a law firm, but I know this is a bad call.

Oh, they are going to go through line by line dissecting each joke in a group. They get through one joke before Madeline notes that the comedian is “objectifying black men.” A black male partner says he doesn’t mind. Madeline says that doesn’t matter because the joke is racially insensitive.

Overlapping chatter ensues, and the partners try to make changes to the comedian’s jokes, like substituting Norwegian for Nigerian. This... is not what law firms do. The joke isn’t funny with the substitution, but it also wasn’t funny before. It was low hanging fruit and the correct answer is to just cut it entirely. (Also, if you’re a comedian and all your jokes are about common stereotypes of groups to which you do not belong, you are probably not a very funny comedian!)

Diane has Jay do some more investigating. Jay looks up when Diane says, “ringleader of the insurrectionists,” and Diane is just like, “I know.” Then Carmen walks in.

Diane congratulates Carmen on “hitting the ground running” and then asks again how she knew about the warrant. Diane says she’s covered by the same attorney-client privilege, so Carmen should be able to share. Carmen notes the warrant was actually about Kurt, which does not answer Diane’s question. “So this came from Rivi?” Diane asks. Carmen says she can’t confirm.

“Carmen. You have been here three weeks. You have two clients: Wolfe-Coleman and Oscar Rivi. It’s one or the other!” Diane notes. Yep. I love that they didn’t forget that this isn’t much of a mystery. It’s more about principle than anything. If Diane knows it’s one of two sources and needs more information, I’m sure Jay can figure it out.

Carmen knows she’s stuck, so she asks if she can make a phone call. “I think that would be smart,” Diane says.

I’ve noticed that Liz and Diane are both being quite firm with others this season—and I like it. They're spending more time with lower-level characters, and both Diane and Liz have reasons to be more curt this year. Diane is under a lot of stress and it’s showing in all of her interactions; Liz is making a point of seeming in control to establish herself as the leader of the firm.

Then Marissa walks in. “What is going on with your crazy court judge?” Diane asks. “My?” Marissa asks. “Marissa, I am in no mood for defensiveness,” Diane insists. She mentions Wackner missing his meeting and shadowing Leah. That’s news to Marissa.

Marissa heads to Wackner’s court to figure out what’s going on.

Wackner is now experimenting with juries. This is interesting to me—I'd wondered before how smart it was to just have Wackner make all the rulings, so exploring the idea of having a jury shows he’s thinking about that, too. Also, it’s another sign that Wackner wants his court to have many of the same structures as a real courtroom. There are still judges, juries, witnesses, trials—he's starting something new, but it feels more like he’s testing out improvements for an imperfect system. I wonder if his end goal would be to set up separate courts, or if he’s more interested in shaping laws/reforming the system? Surely Wackner has ambitions of scaling up whatever conclusions he comes to. So what are they?

The reason for the juries is that the associates told him that juries are racially biased, so he’s trying to correct it. He also explains how he ended up shadowing Leah, and advises Marissa to go exploring whenever she’s kept waiting. (I have a feeling Marissa doesn’t need to be told this, but then, that’s why she’s Wackner’s “muse.”)

Marissa notes that Wackner’s court is looking nicer—there must be money coming in from somewhere new. Wackner confirms there’s been a sympathetic donor.

Wackner is dealing with a case about NFT fraud. Marissa says she doesn’t know what that is. I’m going to assume that Marissa is using Wackner’s strategies against him (she had just accused him of playing dumb to get others to talk) because I cannot believe that Marissa, who always knows random facts, ESPECIALLY ones that involve weird corners of the internet, would not know what an NFT is.

Marissa hears the case is about $4 million, and she’s shocked because this raises the stakes a little more than even she is comfortable with. Wackner has a signed and notarized document saying that both sides will honor the verdict. It is, as Marissa points out, notarized in 9 ¾ court by Wackner about a fictional case. “About a fictional crime,” Wackner adds on.

I’m a little surprised this is all these writers had to say about NFTs! Maybe they knew that by the time this aired, the actual topic would feel dated.

Mandy Patinkin is just SO GOOD as Wackner! I’m watching a fictional show about a fictional crime in a fictional court and even I am starting to believe in his ludicrous court!

Wackner’s jury selection process involves catching potential jurors in traps, like pretending to know the national anthem when they don’t. Smart. Probably super problematic if you think about it too hard and put it in the wrong people’s hands and people start to know the system. But smart, for now.

Diane is now in the sensitivity read meeting, for reasons passing understanding. They are still talking about the first joke. Jay calls Liz out of the meeting and notes that everyone in the room is old and no one is funny. “I’m funny!” Liz argues. Diane tries to leave the meeting, and Liz tells Diane Jay’s idea about needing younger people. “Oh god yes,” Diane agrees. I’m glad she sees it and a little alarmed that Liz doesn’t! I feel like they should’ve sent the tape to everyone interested in participating, then asked them to write up (separately) anything they found questionable or offensive, and gone from there, ending with a close review of anything that wasn’t previously flagged. If you debate every single line for hours you’re going to get nowhere.

I don’t know why Liz is so concerned that Jay thinks she’s not funny? But she is.

Diane asks Liz to join her meeting with Carmen and Lester. This is a scene I’ve been waiting for! Diane and Liz are both there and so the scene FEELS important. The plot advances. And, most importantly, they address why Carmen is staying at RL!

Lester reiterates that Carmen is super important to Rivi, so if Carmen says she can’t share info, then she can’t share info. Liz and Diane do not accept this. “I am a name partner. Carmen is a first-year associate,” Liz says. “Now, Carmen is free to resign and hang her shingle wherever she’d like. She can even go and work for you. That is up to her. But while she is here, she is subject to the rules and the mentoring of this firm.”

Lester tries to take Carmen out of the meeting. Liz and Diane won’t let him: They need to know if Carmen is staying with the firm, now.

“You have a lot to learn, Carmen. And you can only do that here,” Diane pitches. I don’t think that’s exactly true, but it’s not untrue.

Here is a question I have about Carmen: she is WILLING to represent drug dealers and rapists. Does she WANT to? She chooses RL, so I’m guessing her interests lie in big law and not in aiding criminals.

Lester leaves, but not before saying Kurt is about to get a grand jury summons. Diane gets one too. It’s not the usual guy! Too bad.

A bigger group is now deciding on if jokes are offensive or not, and they’re doing so with paddles that are red on one side (offensive) and green on the other (funny). I’m sure this is going to go well.

The group sees the replacement jokes and they are confused. Marissa wants to see the original joke. Julius shows the room, and everyone laughs. The joke is funny—and offensive. Someone from the mail room notes that he would be the butt of this joke, but he finds it funny, so he thinks the comedian should be able to continue with her set.

Here is where I think I fall on this: Get sensitivity reads to get ahead of any huge issues (like, don’t be Pepsi with the ad with whichever Jenner it was who solved racism). Be aware of the potential issues. Let viewers decide what is and isn’t offensive, and make informed decisions rather than arbitrary rules about what content to show. You’ll KNOW if you are indulging the tendencies of someone with a history of making the same type of problematic jokes (for example, maybe if you are reviewing something by Tina Fey and she tries to write another edgy plot where racial stereotypes are the punchline, you advise her to not do that because, I mean, why WERE there so many episodes of 30 Rock that involved blackface??). You’ll KNOW if you are giving a platform to someone who is actively trying to spread misinformation and be cruel to others. Someone’s going to be offended by everything, and it may be a huge deal and it may not be. IMO, it doesn’t really matter that I can’t make an exact set of rules about what is/isn’t smart to air. I don’t think anyone—not networks, not creators, and not audiences—would benefit from that. Lawyers might, though, for all the billable hours...

“You can’t tell a joke without offending someone,” Jay notes. I do not think this is true! Puns don’t offend anyone!

David Lee’s counter-example to Jay’s point is Gilbert & Sullivan. Of course it is.

As always, the argument devolves into overlapping chatter. These episodes exhaust me. At least this episode has some fun with the topic of the week and seems to have more of a point of view than some of the past episodes where the only conclusion is, “Wow! Controversy is controversial!”

Marissa ends up in the mail room with Jay and one of the mailroom guys (captions say his name is Jimmy). They are mocking the partner’s ideas of comedy. Jay and Jimmy agree that the best comedy is mean. But, Jay says, now it feels like you need “a permission slip to tell a joke.” Is... this true? This feels like one of those things people who would never actually get “cancelled” worry about because their fear overtakes their ability to understand what really gets someone cancelled.

Then again, this episode was written by professional writers who would absolutely know better than I am if people are really hesitant to tell jokes.

Jimmy has started making literal permission slips to allow people to tell jokes about specific groups. Jay and Marissa are down.

Jay asks Jimmy to make a card for something so inappropriate he wouldn’t joke about it... and Jimmy prints a card that says Greta Thunberg. No one wants to joke about that.

And you know why this joke lands well for me? Part of it is that the vibe of this scene is very fun and laid back. But mostly it’s because Younger tried to make a Greta Thunberg joke this season, and it was quite possibly the worst, most embarrassing thing I’ve seen a TV show do in ages. It wasn’t funny, just mean, over the top, lazy, and never-ending. (Poor Younger. That show had an awful final season.)

Liz is still worried she’s not funny. She asks Del if she’s funny and mentions Jay’s comment. He says she’s funny, but she’s not convinced he’s being honest. He points out this is a discussion no one will win. Del ends up accidentally saying “I love you” to Liz, which is a big deal for a relationship we’ve seen for all of two seconds. Liz says they don’t have to talk about it, but Del insists on explaining that he meant “affection,” not love. I’m glad they’re talking about this.

“Then maybe we should get married,” Liz says as seriously as possible. She stares at Del and smiles. He laughs and admits that was funny. It was VERY funny!

Grand jury time! Yet Another Ham Sandwich: The Sequel: The Musical: The Series. (Am I funny? Pls tell me I’m funny and hip with the teens!)

It’s Diane’s turn first. She does well, but there’s not much to say when Nancy plays the recording of Diane phoning the FBI with the rioter’s name. I did not need the clip from last episode in here. Diane is calm in court, but rushes to tell Kurt immediately. Nancy predicted Diane would do that, so she calls in Kurt before Diane has a chance to warn him.

So, wait, Kurt thought all of this was just a COINCIDENCE? Diane didn’t tell him earlier?! I don’t love this choice, but okay.

Liz finds a joke permission slip on her desk. Julius has one too. “Did you use it?” Liz asks. Julius doesn’t understand what that even means. Then they trade clothes, because Liz does want to tell a joke about white girl clothes.

Julius suspects the cards are a way to make fun of the partners for being unfunny. The associates are also chatting about the cards, having lots of fun, so it’s clearly not about the partners.

I think now is an appropriate time to mention that TGW and TGF have both been consistently hilarious shows and have been on the air for a combined twelve years. Neither rely on the types of jokes that these cards permit. This is a kind of interesting thought experiment, but... doesn’t it say something that the shows never use these jokes as crutches and still manage to be funny? This is what I meant earlier about people being afraid of cancel culture when they’re not actually really at risk of coming under fire. These writers know how to write things that are funny. They know how to make comedy out of absurdity and subverting expectations. And yet they’re worried about how to have jokes that aren’t mean? Really?

The first laugh out loud funny TGW moment that comes to mind right now is the episode that ends with that obnoxious talk show guy trying to out Diane as a lesbian. That joke deals with identity. But it still holds up 12 years later, because the joke isn’t that Diane could be gay... the joke is that Diane DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT what this pest is saying about her on TV, and so she laughs. And because the tension of the talk show guy’s BIG DRAMATIC REVEAL is cut with Diane’s dynamic, loud laugh, we laugh with her! I’m not really sure what I'm trying to illustrate with this example. I’m just noting that you can be topical, funny, and entirely appropriate at the same time... and these writers are great at finding that balance.

HR starts, like, texting (they TEXT Marissa!!!) employees about the joke permission slips? It’s so bizarrely done that I thought this was going to be a prank.

Jay decides they won’t go to HR, and Jimmy decides they’ll delay. Why wouldn’t HR just come down and take away the cards?

For this week’s dose of Wackner Wackiness, witnesses will be fully costumed, and it goes without saying that the costumes will be as over the top as possible.

David Cord is the mysterious donor. Marissa spots him and instantly puts the pieces together. Cord explains he met Wackner on the elevator. I can’t say enough how much I like that this season has a lot of moving pieces that feel like part of a whole. Cord showed up as part of a case that caused internal debate at the firm and had a thematic parallel to an ongoing plot, then crossed over into Wackner’s plot once he was established as a character!

Cord says he’s interested in “disrupting things” so he’s interested in Wackner. I did not need the still photo of where they founded HP that’s used to illustrate humble beginnings, I guess.

Nancy mentions Kurt’s unfortunate last name—she so would. Kurt takes the fifth. Was this thing about needing a reason to take the fifth true in the earlier seasons and just not mentioned? Didn’t Kalinda and Will use this strategy?

Nancy, obviously, plays the recording of Diane reporting the rioter. Kurt conceals his reaction for the grand jury, but he’s pissed.

Diane tries to apologize and Kurt asks for another lawyer. This is the right move. I can’t be all that sad.

The partners have collected all the cards and are trying to do damage control with HR. (Interestingly, there are certain topics the cards we see don’t touch on. Like, where’s the rape joke card? Aren’t rape jokes what we usually talk about when we talk about comedians getting cancelled? And where are the jokes about minority groups (aside from little people, referred to using the PC name instead of the names that would probably be used in most offensive jokes about little people) not represented in the TGF cast? I find this little bit of self-censorship quite notable, especially given that the writers seem to be arguing in favor of not regulating humor. These omissions, which MUST be intentional, tell me the writers do have their own lines they won’t cross...)

(My larger point there, and where this funny-but-unnecessary subplot fails for me, is that this whole episode feels like a bit of a panic over cancel culture and winds up being a strawman argument. I don’t disagree with the conclusions the writers come to and I do find some of these scenes funny. But at the same time, I don’t think Cancel Culture is actually about coming after every single joke that makes fun of any person or group (if we must do a cancel culture plot, why not do one about someone who is an odious person and yet still has a following even after they’ve been “cancelled”). And I don’t think that showing HR as a very stern, strict, humorless body is helpful. I’m getting ahead of myself, but all that accomplishes is having Liz win on a point that pretty much everyone can agree on, because no one is actually as humorless as STRL’s HR department! Humor has so many gray areas and if you try to make it black and white, obviously the side that’s saying YOU CANNOT MAKE JOKES ABOUT ANYTHING is going to be the one that is wrong.

I did just remember that all of these writers have probably dealt with unfun and strict standards & practices departments, and I like the way HR is portrayed more if I try to imagine them as Standards & Practices.

Liz decides she is going to see HR so she’s seen as an authority figure, not someone subversive. But first, Liz has to meet with Del and the comedian.

Wackner and Cord are in Diane’s office. Diane’s skeptical of their alliance. She also points out that it is corrupt for Wackner to be financed by Cord and decide on Cord’s cases. This is true. Cord says he has no vested interest in any of the cases. And Wackner says he’s the “most untouchable man on earth” and quotes a song again. Yet another example of how this court only works if Wackner is in charge.

The comedy meeting does not go well. David Lee is already trying to pitch their other servicces. The comedian finds the censored version hilarious in how terrible it is, and then she starts making fun of it, loudly, and for way too long.

David thinks it went poorly; Liz isn’t concerned. David is all, “you failed” and Liz asks him to cool it and notes that David isn’t the highest-ranking person at STRL, so he should “stop the shit” and work with her. She’s already sounding more like a boss.

Julius complements her on being “Boseman-like,” which is true (though I wish she didn’t need to be compared to her ex-husband). “I know,” Liz says quietly, likely because she hates that Adrian is still influencing her this much.

Del joins Wackner and Cord in the elevator, and this isn’t the end of the episode but I’m going to pretend it is so all the episodes can end on elevators this year. It’s close enough.

Kurt’s new lawyer is Julius. Ah, yes, choose the corrupt judge Trump pardoned who works at your wife’s firm to represent you. Seems smart.

Liz walks past Diane’s office and the camera follows her up to HR. She tries to get HR to understand humor. They do not. And that’s the episode.

So, a few thoughts to conclude. First, I went into this recap thinking I’d have a lot more to say about cancel culture and the way this episode handled the debate. But I ended up liking this plot—and this episode-- more the second time around. I still don’t think this episode said anything groundbreaking about cancel culture, because I don’t think it actually engaged with the topic beyond the surface. As I noted earlier, coming to the conclusion that jokes should be allowed because we’re all human isn’t really a resolution the real topic. What about accountability? What about allowing for some jokes to be too far without taking the teeth out of every joke? What about the way people panic over cancel culture when they’re not being canceled (this episode felt a little bit like a panic over cancel culture, which is why I reacted negatively to it the first time through) or about how cancellation doesn’t always stick or have meaning? There is SOMETHING to explore here, but I don’t think this episode found that something.

Second, because I didn’t find a way to work it in above... is it me, or is it actually HELPING the show to not have Adrian or Lucca around!? This season feels so much more focused than the past several, and I think it might be because the writers (who are, as always, very good at adapting to curveballs) had to restructure the show. Lucca always had her own subplots that were separate from everything else, and Adrian’s charisma tended to overpower others’ presence (especially Liz’s) whenever he was in the room. It didn’t help that the writers seemed to LOVE writing Adrian plots, even if it meant neglecting others.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Adrian and Lucca both. But there’s something to be said for a tighter show with three main interconnected pieces (Liz/firm drama, Diane/FBI and Kurt, Marissa/Wackner’s court) that carry over from episode to episode. Like the titles of the season, these episodes build on each other.

Also, there’s the right amount of every character this season. David Lee is used sparingly; Jay and Julius are supporting players who sometimes get the spotlight; Wackner is a huge presence but his plot feels like part of the show; Carmen feels important but isn’t being given screentime for the sake of screentime; Liz is finally the type of lead she should’ve been from the start; Marissa has nicely grown into a role closer to leading than supporting; Diane remains a clear lead.

5x05 next week!!! I am expecting some Hitting the Fan level quality and at least one fan-service-y reference. (Not really, but wouldn’t it be fun?)

#tgfthoughts #the good fight

17 notes · View notes

lockefanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Business Trip: Pt 37 - Rough

“You want me to lie down on my back and spread my legs and let you fuck me until you cum in me like a good little girl, huh?” she continues. There is a wildness, an unconstrained craziness in her eyes.

You want to say something, want to snap back and tell her that you were more than willing and plenty able to do more than just that; but her hand pumping up and down your stiff cock, and the wild look in those eyes, has you incapable of coming up with the right words. Your cock begins to leak pre-cum, and she spreads it over your weeping slit and sensitive head, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that you do your best to stifle.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

Seulgi grabs you by the cock and pulls you towards the bed - something that would have been painful were it not so fucking hot; the promise of sex with such a wild partner was an effective painkiller, it seemed.

Placing both hands flat against your chest, she pushes you down onto the old, small bed. She quickly undoes the button and zipper of her denim shorts, and strips it off her hips. Her short crop top soon follows it to the bedroom floor, and suddenly Kang Seulgi is naked in front of you, her slim, toned body tensed and ready to pounce.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

---

“So this is it, huh?”

“This is it,” Kang Seulgi repeats as she takes the first few steps into the apartment, reaching out to the wall to flick the lights on. Most of the furniture in the small, nondescript unit was covered with white sheets, although here and there an odd appliance or decoration was left uncovered to gather a layer of dust. The sheets and dusty atmosphere meant it was unlikely anyone had been there in awhile.

“I’d expected SM staff to be able to afford better housing,” you admit. The apartment was modest at best, being on a middle floor in a lower-middle class neighborhood of Seoul. It was far from being an unlivable place, but it was still a ways removed from the hyper modern, massive apartment buildings that dominated most of Seoul’s hipper, newer neighborhoods.

Momo and her team had picked you up from the JYP offices about an hour before; the other girls were doing some scouting and recon of the premises ahead of Seulgi’s meeting with Irene, which was scheduled for the next day. You’d volunteered to scout out Red Velvet’s old apartment with Seulgi, where the actual meeting was going to happen.

“This was all we could afford when we started out,” Seulgi replies, “when we were just paper pushers at SM. Before Red Velvet was even a thing.”

Seulgi reaches out to the refrigerator, which still had polaroids, takeout menus, and other miscellaneous junk attached onto its front door with magnets and scotch tape. Her eyes, normally cold and aloof, are far away, lost in thought and memories of days gone by. She plays idly with the edges of a series of polaroids - and though you were too far to see the subject of the photos, you knew it had to be the members of Red Velvet in their younger, more carefree days.

“When we started living here we decided as a team that we would each take turns cooking. We didn’t have a lot of money and we figured cooking our own food would save us a few won here and there,” she says with the hint of a smile on her lips, “but it turned out none of us could cook. Joy almost burnt this place down a couple of times. We ended up just taking turns ordering delivery.”

Her fingertips trace the corner of a well-worn delivery menu held to the door with a magnet. She touches the magnet briefly, as though she were reliving a moment that might have happened years ago, when she’d grab the menu off the fridge and ask the girls what they wanted to eat. But reality soon sets in for the suddenly sombre girl, and with heavy steps she leaves the kitchen.

She flicks on another set of lights, revealing the relatively small living room. An old, small flatscreen TV sat on a simple wooden stand against one wall, with a cheap fabric couch opposite it covered in white sheets.

“Only two of us could fit on the couch at once, so the other two had to sit on the floor. We took turns,” she explained, as if reading your mind. There must have been a lot of sharing going on - the apartment might have been cramped for two occupants, let alone four young women.

“Only one tiny little bathroom, too,” she continued. “Man, the fights that we had over who was taking too long in there…”

You are happy to let Seulgi reminisce about better days for a moment. This was the first time you’d spent any length of time alone with her, and you didn’t mind learning more about Red Velvet and how they began.

“Irene would shout at us if we were taking too long,” she continues, her tone wistful, “sometimes she would bang on the bathroom door so loud we’d get complaints from the neighbors.”

You are hesitant to broach the topic of Irene, given the noticeable thawing of Seulgi’s usually icy exterior since you’d arrived at the apartment. You were thankful it was Seulgi who brought her up.

“So the bitchiness started early,” you state.

Seulgi smirks. “At the time, yeah, we thought she was a bit of a bitch. But we couldn’t deny that she was driven, and that she wanted to go places. It was her that had the idea of forming Red Velvet - of working together as a team to make something of ourselves at SM. She was a bitch, but she could be a real leader, too. I suppose her bitchiness is also what made her so successful.”

“So how exactly did you four meet?”

“The four of us started at Red Velvet at the same time - we were recruited right out of university. We met at the SM orientation, and when we learned that we would be working in the same division we decided, hey, we may as well live together.”

Seulgi steps over to a bookcase filled with framed photos, old books, and other keepsakes collected by young people in the prime of their youth. Her hands reach out to graze its simple wooden frame, her eyes drifting from one item to another on its shelves and reliving a memory with each one. She doesn’t touch any of the photos or other things on the shelf, as if she were afraid of what would happen if she did.

“We started off just pushing paper. But one day Irene was promoted to be the executive assistant of some middle management type dude at SM. He was a bit of a perv - always hitting on her and shit, touching her like she was his girlfriend. Anyway, one day he was assigned to go to this convention in Europe and scope out what the competition was doing, and then report back. Irene went with him. Guy was drunk as fuck the whole time, treating it as a company paid vacation.”

Seulgi’s gaze finally settles on a framed picture, and with hands that appeared almost nervous, she reaches out and picks it up off the shelf with a delicacy that you didn’t know she was capable of. Her slim fingers play gently along its frame, as though she were handling some precious, fragile artifact.

“Irene ended doing all the work. And what’s more, she ended up getting some pretty juicy info on a competitor; info we ended up using to… convince them to sell us their tech.”

“So the blackmailing started early, too,” you say under your breath. Seulgi smirks.

“We prefer the term ‘corporate espionage,’” she says with a sly smile on her lips. “Irene was promoted for her work. The dude was demoted to the dungeons of SM where he fucking belonged. Irene took us with her, and soon we were climbing the ladder at SM.”

“Surely you were paid enough to buy nicer digs.”

“Yes,” Seulgi admits, “but we always kept this place. It was like a hideout for us, almost. We got up to some pretty shady stuff in our line of work. But we’d always come back to this place to relax, hang out, and just be girls again. No one knew about this place but us. It felt safe. It kept us grounded. It kept us together.”

“So what happened, then?” you ask, satisfied that now was the time to bring up the YG incident, “what happened on that day, Seulgi?”

Even without asking, the young woman knows what day you mean. She puts the picture back on the shelf and lets out a sigh; you experience a pang of regret as she does so, knowing that you were probably bringing up some bad memories. Seulgi takes a few deep breaths to compose herself.

When she begins to speak she’s still turned away from you, moving from the bookshelf to stare out the window of the living room, towards the skyline of downtown Seoul in the distance.

“YG was our biggest competitor back in the day, as I’m sure you know. Wendy and Yeri were assigned a few operations to try and get dirt on them. But they never had any luck. Soon enough SM brass decided to give the assignment to Irene. Irene, of course - she didn’t waste any time. Before a month was out she had already established a relationship with YG’s CEO. More than that - she had him wrapped around her finger.”

“Damn,” you say, impressed.

“Anyway, her mission was to get the dirt on YG’s R&D division - they went under the codename Blackpink. She used her relationship with the CEO to dig up everything she could. But the more she found out about Blackpink, the more passionate she became about bringing YG down.”

“What did she find?”

“She wouldn’t tell us,” Seulgi says with a soft shake of her head, “she kept everything to herself at her own insistence. We usually shared everything we knew with each other, but this was different. She said it was because she didn’t want us to be in danger in case YG retaliated. She wanted to give us plausible deniability, I guess. Yeri thinks that by not telling us anything, she was trying to protect us. But I don’t believe that.”

“What do you think it was?” you ask, sitting down on the covered couch.

“I’m not entirely sure. I just know she must have had a reason for not telling us what she found. Either way, one day she came to us and proposed we infiltrate YG HQ. Apparently there was something there that we couldn’t retrieve via hacking. It had to be done the old school way, as I’m sure you’re familiar with,” Seulgi says with a smile, turning her head slightly in your direction.

“A little too familiar,” you answer, knowing she was referring to the near disaster of Nayeon’s infiltration of SM.

“So we went and got pretty deep into YG HQ. We expected that we’d be doing some hacking into a secure mainframe or server and retrieving some confidential company data. Instead what we did was break four girls out of a goddamn dungeon.”

“What?”

“It turns out the whole thing was a rescue mission. The Blackpink girls were the target. No one knew this except Irene, of course, so you can imagine that when she told us we had to get these four girls to safety, we kind of freaked out. Wendy - she was Irene’s second, back in the day - she almost wanted to walk out on the whole thing and take the other two of us with her. But Irene convinced us that we had to get out with the girls - so we did. She was our leader. We trusted she was doing the right thing.”

“Except you didn’t all get out,” you say, realizing even as you said the words that you could have been more considerate with your choice of words.

“No, we didn’t,” Seulgi says, her voice dropping slightly. The girl takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, her hands bracing her weight against the windowsill. She had always seemed so tough and confident, but to see her vulnerability now made you feel bad for even bringing up the subject. Her very posture had changed; she was usually so proud and haughty, and now she seemed small and defenseless.

“You saw the tapes. You know what happened. YG captured Yeri and I on the way out. Irene took the girls and ran. Yeri and I… YG fucked us up.”

“Seulgi…” you say, not quite knowing how to best comfort her.

“Whatever. That doesn’t matter now. A few months later Yeri and I escaped that hellhole. And now all I want to know is why I had to go through that. I want to know why Irene left us there to die. And I’m going to ask her that tomorrow.”

A few seconds pass in silence as you digest Seulgi’s story. You’d known that Irene had left her and Yeri behind during the YG incident, but that was the extent of your knowledge. Learning the history of Red Velvet right from the source had given you some much needed context.

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. It must have been terrible.”

Seulgi lets out a dark chuckle, as though she’d just heard a joke.

“Terrible is a vast understatement,” she says, “it was the worst few months of my life. But what they did to us physically - it didn’t matter. I healed. It was the betrayal that hurt the most. The relationship we’d built here, in this very room - to have it thrown away like that; that’s what really hurt me.”

Seconds pass in silence.

“It’s one thing to have your boss betray you,” Seulgi says with a wavering voice, “it’s another thing to have someone you’re in love with do the same.”

You are surprised somewhat at Seulgi’s confession. You’d known she’d had some sort of physical relationship with Yeri, and that their shared experience at YG had likely made them close, but you’d had no idea she’d had any sort of feelings towards Irene.

“What, you’re surprised?” Seulgi asks, a mocking tone in her voice and a sly smile on her lips as she finally turns around to face you. Her soft, sad eyes belay the cold, detached persona she was trying to return to. “Are you really surprised though, considering what Yeri and I did in front of you at the coffee shop last week?”

“No, that doesn’t surprise me. I just had no idea you and Irene-”

“Whatever, it’s in the past,” Seulgi snaps, “It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is bringing her down. Who I fuck takes a backseat to that.”

“I suppose,” you say with a nod.

“Anyway, the bedroom’s that way. Come on then,” she says, stepping away from the windowsill to take you by the wrist and drag you towards a closed door.

“Uh, what?” you stammer as you are dragged from your seat.

“All this talk of the past has me all sad and shit, and I need a pick me up. Besides, you owe me one from the coffee shop. Oh, and you should know - this is going to be rough. I hope you’re not a pussy.”

---

Seulgi was right - it was rough.

From the moment she dragged you into the bedroom it was a bit like being caught up in a storm; one that pushed you around, one that hit you, one that caused you occasional pain. But instead of giving into her anger you found yourself wanting to fight back - wanting to show here you weren’t going to be pushed around. This was a wild animal you wanted to tame, a storm you wanted to weather.

As you cross the doorframe of the bedroom Seulgi grabs you by the collar of your shirt and quite literally shoves you up against the bedroom wall, rattling the walls and causing a few of the items on the nearby cabinet to fall over. Before you have a chance to react she is on you like a cat, quickly crushing your lips with her own before her tongue quickly invades your mouth. She tastes like mint - sweet, but with an underlying sharpness.

As you make out her hands find your collar again and she tears it open - sending buttons flying to the floor with small clinks. She tears her lips from yours momentarily as she forcefully undresses you. There is a hunger in her eyes as she takes in your newly exposed chest, like a predator salivating at the prospect of delicious prey.

Her lips return to yours in a torrid kiss; her hands quickly strip the torn shirt from your torso, and you are happy to help her remove it from your arms. You aren’t one to let her just get away with something like that, though; you want to fight back, want to show her that this wasn’t just a one way street - and so you grasp the light pink jacket she is wearing and pull it down her shoulders, leaving her in a short crop top and denim shorts..

As soon as Seulgi divests herself of the jacket she slaps you - across the cheek. You’d been slapped before, of course, even a couple of times during sex - but never that hard. It stung. She wasn’t holding back.

“Every piece of clothing you take off me gets a fucking slap,” she hisses. There is a wildness in her eyes that both scared you and intrigued you.

“Then I guess I owe you a slap for my fucking shirt,” you snap.

“Then do it! Fucking slap me. I want you to. I want it to hurt.”

“...I’m not gonna fucking slap you, Seulgi.”

“Because you’re a fucking pussy? I fucking knew it. I fucking knew you were a-”

She is silenced mid sentence by your open palm; even before you realized what you were doing, you’d hit her across the face. You are momentarily frozen by your own actions - you’d never hit a girl’s face before - but the crazy glint in Seulgi’s eyes, and the wild smile on those lips, meant that your slap not only didn’t piss her off - it turned her on.

Her hands reach for your jeans, fingers working quickly, almost frenzied in her desire to undress you. As soon as she undoes your belt she pulls them down, hooking her thumbs in your boxers and dragging them down along with your pants, leaving you naked. She takes a moment to admire your newly stiff cock as it springs free from its cotton prison.

“I see now why you have all those fuck toys in your office,” Seulgi says, licking her lips as though she were about to dive into a delicious looking meal, “and why Momo is always so fucking wet around you.”

“Maybe you should find out first hand,” you snap back.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seulgi hisses, reaching down and grasping your stiff shaft. The skin of her fingers and palm are soft and warm, but her movements are rough and frenzied as she begins to stroke you up and down - you let a soft sigh escape your lips at the first spikes of pleasure, although you do your best to keep from doing any more than that. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

It must have been only a few minutes since she’d pulled you into the bedroom, and already she was almost too much to handle. With the other girls there was at least some preamble, a healthy amount of foreplay, or both; with Seulgi there was none of that. A quick, torrid kiss, a stripping of clothing, and now your face was between her legs.

Your determination to fight back returns, having been lent strength by the fact that she no longer literally had your cock in her hands. And so you quickly dive into Seulgi’s slick, juicy pussy, darting out your tongue and giving her a slow, hard lick from the bottom of her opening to the top, delighting in the taste of her wet flesh. Seulgi quivers at this first lick, although she quickly settles down - evidently she was fighting the same battle you were, neither of you willing to show the other that they had the upper hand.

Her right hand reaches down to your scalp, her fingers digging into your skull.

“Stop fucking around and eat my pussy,” she orders, her tone sharp, although you notice, to your satisfaction, that her eyes have softened due to the pleasure of that first, quick taste.

You smile to yourself as you dive back in, your tongue darting out and giving her another broad lick, this time swirling your tip around the top of her opening, searching for and quickly finding the stiff little bud that is at the centre of her pleasure. Seulgi quivers slightly at this first contact between your tongue and her clit.

You are determined to not give her what she wanted - and it was clear what she wanted was a quick orgasm. So instead of returning to her aching clit you dive deep into her opening, pressing your face against her hot heat, penetrating her as much as you could with your tongue. You drink in Seulgi’s slick juices as they flow freely into your mouth, delighting in her bittersweet taste as you eat the writhing young girl riding your face. The moans that leave Seulgi’s pursed lips become a little louder with each dive into her depths, and the quivering of her soft thighs around your face become a little stronger as the young woman slowly, gradually loses control.

For a few delicious seconds you tongue fuck her, thrusting your tongue in and out of her opening, swirling your tip around with each entry and exit, savoring the taste of her body like some delicious meal. Her fingers dig deeper into your scalp as she continues to grind her crotch against your face, the pain in your skull and the delicious taste of her pussy mixing into a heady cocktail that quickly intoxicates you.

“Fucking… fucking make me cum.. Oh! Make me cum already,” she hisses.

You are unable to answer her with words, your mouth filled with her pussy as it was, and so you answer with action. You bring your hands up, cupping and squeezing her toned, round ass from behind, pressing her crotch closer and deeper against your face. Giving her pussy one more lick and driving your tongue as deep inside her as it could go one last time, you finally move upwards to her needy clit.

Seulgi’s reaction is instant, having been driven to the edge by the tongue fucking you were giving her. When you capture her bud between your lips and swirl the tip of your tongue around it she cums almost immediately, her body going rigid for a split second before becoming a pile of jelly, the pleasure taking the young woman by surprise as her body succumbs. Her mouth is frozen in an open “o” for a few seconds as the first wave of her orgasm crashes against her, but soon she lets a long, drawn out moan escape her lips as she rides it out, enjoying every crest of pleasure that hits her.

She is gyrating her hips as she cums, grinding her wet, drenched, hot crotch against your face for a few beautiful seconds. It’s almost difficult to breathe, your mouth or your nose or both covered in her wet, hot flesh. You are clutching her ass in an attempt to hold her down, doing your best to lap up the plentiful juices leaving her slick opening, drinking up Seulgi like she were a fountain and you hadn’t drunk in days.

When Seulgi finally comes down from her high and releases your head from between her wet thighs, you are almost upset when her pussy leaves your face. You lick your lips, gathering her juices from the mess she’d made on your mouth and chin.

When you lock eyes again her face is wild - flushed with her orgasm, but still undiminished in that intimidating craziness that had taken her over.

She slides her body down, dipping her head and kissing you roughly, tasting herself on your tongue as your mouths lock in frenzied battle once more. To Seulgi, kissing was not a show or display of affection - it was a battle, a display of dominance.

“Not fucking bad,” she admits when she finally breaks the kiss, “now let’s see how you fuck.”

You were surprised at her lack of foreplay, lack of build up before she forced you to eat her out - but you were still expecting some sort of lead up to actual sex. But you should have known better by now, should have known that Seulgi wasn’t that type of girl.

In the space of a couple of seconds, Seulgi moves her body down until she is straddling your waist, and after reaching down to point your aching tip at her slick, dripping pussy, she takes you inside her and begins to ride you.

No build up, no slow gradual rise in pace or tempo - soon she is riding you hard, as though she were atop some bucking wild horse in some sort of race to a finish line only she could see. Her pussy is tight and wet and slick and hot and every possible adjective you could possibly use to describe the pleasurable feeling of her body - and it took you all at once, the sensations hitting you all at the same time, like a tsunami hitting the unprepared coastline of your brain.

It is all you could do to hold on to her bucking hips as she throws herself again and again into your cock, taking you in and out of her body at a pace that held no regard for your pleasure or even your comfort - all she wanted was to get off, and you were the tool she was going to use to get to her destination.

“Mmmm…. Argh! Fuck! Fuck, yes… Mmm... !!”

Even the sounds she made were different; aside from the odd pleasurable moan or hissed profanity, she sounded like she were searching for something, or working away at a project. The other girls sat back and let themselves come across the pleasure they were searching for; for Seulgi it was as though she were actively searching for it, looking for it amidst the sensations and pleasures emanating from between your bodies.

It took you longer than you cared to admit, but eventually you are able to at least get used to the torrid pace Seulgi has set as she rides you roughly on the creaking, protesting bed. She clutches the headboard above you, and as she does so it finally gives you a good look at her slim, svelte form, all tight muscle and lean limbs, her abs tight and sculpted, her small breasts tipped with delicious looking nipples stiff with pleasure.

Above it all, though, was that face of hers - surely capable of much beauty and grace, but now twisted in wild abandon, the craziness of her need and lust twisting those perfect features into a mask that was equal parts intoxicating and intimidating. Hey eyes, even half-lidded in pleasure, are still bright and wild, fixed on you even as the rest of her body bounces up and down.

Rather mercifully, it is her that ends up approaching orgasm first; lucky for you, because you’d have hated to see what could happen if she were disappointed by sex. The gradual tightening and pulsating of her already tight, slick tunnel tells you she was quickly reaching her peak.

Seulgi ups her pace, impaling herself again and again on your cock as though she were nearing the finish line to a race and wanted to finish strong. The determined look on her face begins to crack, as the pleasure of your stiff cock pumping in and out of her finally overwhelms her senses.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna fucking… fucking cum… fuck!”

She cums like you expected her to, like she did minutes before on your tongue - like a violent storm breaking upon a shore. Her body goes rigid, her fingernails dig into the wooden headboard, and her thighs clench around your waist as the pleasure overtakes her senses. Her pussy pulsates and quivers around your cock as she buries it as deep inside her as it could go. It is all you could do to hold on to her tight, shaking body as she rides out her pleasure for long, beautiful seconds.

When she comes down from her peak she is still slowly grinding herself against your crotch, your cock fully embedded inside her body, as though she is chasing the last vestiges of pleasure before she comes down to earth. Breathing heavily, skin flushed, she finally gives you her appraisal of your performance.

Her appraisal is a slap across your face. When you recover enough to look back at her, your cheek stinging with sharp pain, the wild look in her eyes both scares you and turns you on.

“You think I have to thank you for making me cum, when all you did was lie there? The only credit you get is for not cumming in five seconds like a fucking virgin.”

You are a little stunned by Seulgi, and more than a little unsure about how to react. You’d never been with a woman so wild, so crazy in bed before - only Chaeyoung came close, and even then it was more playful than angry. Seulgi was a storm, a tornado that came in, tore down your house, and didn’t care what you thought of it.

You want to reach up and choke her. You want to turn her around and pull on her hair hard as you drill her tight little body from behind. This part of you wants to fight her - wants to show her you were just as capable of dominating her as she was of you - but another, darker part of you wants to let her have her way. Because deep down, it kind of turned you on.

“I suppose you can cum too, then, I guess,” Seulgi says, as nonchalantly as she could, given the circumstances - as though she weren’t naked, fully impaled on a man’s cock.

“Where do you want to cum, you little bitch?” she asks, with a look that you would have thought was threatening if it weren’t so fucking hot.

“I want-”

Another slap, this time to your other cheek. This one stung more than the other. The gradual increase of pain in her slaps would have concerned you if they weren’t so fucking hot at the same time. You should have known better. You’d think you’d have learned.

“I decide where you cum,” she states, a little edge in her tone. She says the words matter-of-factly, as though she were to brook no complaint or argument, would accept no alternative. A storm, after all, cared little for the complaints of those in its path.

She slides off your cock - and you lament the loss of her tight wet heat wrapped around your cock as it slips out of her, shiny and glistening with her juices. Before you know it Seulgi is curled up into a ball between your legs, and soon she is taking you in and out of her mouth.

Again - no build up. No preamble, no teasing or foreplay. Only the replacement of one hot, wet orifice with another. Only the wet, hot cavern of Seulgi’s mouth, those lips wrapped tightly around your shaft, her tongue swirling around your sensitive head each time she reached the apex. You should have been ready. You should have known by now. But again, the tsunami that was Kang Seulgi’s body finds a coastline unprepared.

She is rough, lacking in the patience and technique of someone like Sana or Seolhyun; but Seulgi more than makes up for it with sheer determination, as though she were using anger and hate to fuel her work between your legs. And you were in no position to complain, not when her hot little mouth was already bringing you close to cumming after only a few seconds of work.

She must have felt you nearing your peak - because you were certainly in no position to tell her so, given the near paralysis you felt as she worked fiercely on your cock. Just moments before you finally cum Seulgi lets your cock pop out of her mouth.

Your orgasm overwhelms your senses, but you force your eyes open to watch as thick, glistening cum erupts from your tip to land on Seulgi’s face, on her cheeks and nose, painting her soft features with white semen. You continue to cum more than you think you were going to, as though your body were responding to Seulgi’s abuse by painting her face with as much thick, hot white seed as it could. The look of utter lust on Seulgi’s needy features is breathtaking - mouth open and tongue out, she looked as though each rope of thick cum that landed on her face brought her to a new level of perverse pleasure.

After letting the first few streams of cum land onto her wanton face Seulgi slips your spasming cock back inside her mouth, and the feel of her tongue on your sensitive shaft, mid-orgasm, is almost too much to handle. Your hands grip the sides of her skull in a grip that is almost too tight for the girl; but she bears it, accepting the last few streams of cum into her needy mouth to splash against the back of her throat.

Your hands keep her there - you had involuntarily buried your cock into her mouth with a thrust of your hips and the grip on her head, it seemed. Not that Seulgi seemed to mind, if the swirling of her tongue around the sensitive underside of your pulsating cock was any indication.

An indeterminate amount of time later, when you finally release her head from your grasp, Seulgi lets your now half-softened cock slip out between her pink lips - along with a thick stream of fresh semen. She is almost embarrassed by it, and she quickly darts out her tongue to collect it all, as though it were some expensive drink that she didn’t want to waste a drop of. You watch as her throat works, gulping the thick ropes of cum down into her body.

You are barely cognizant enough to watch as she sets to work cleaning your cock, using her hand to keep it straight as she licks your combined juices from your tired, weary shaft and balls.

All the while she does so with your warm cum still dripping down her face, a wicked smile on her lips, and those crazy eyes locked on yours.

---

It’s half an hour later when Momo and Yeri arrive in the apartment, thankfully enough time for you and the former member of Red Velvet to get yourselves dressed up again and at least somewhat presentable, even if you had to deal with a shirt that had its buttons torn off. The sight of your torn shirt was an obvious giveaway to Yeri and Momo; Yeri reacts with a sly smile, as though she’d expected it to happen, although the dark look of barely hidden disappointment in Momo’s eyes stings you a little.

“Our work downstairs is done,” Momo states, seeking to change the subject as the four of you stand in the living room, “We set up cameras at all the entrances and in the parking lot. Seulgi will be wearing a camera and a wire to capture her meeting with Irene here in this room.”

“And I’ll be in the bedroom with a recording device of our own,” you state. You knew you had to have your own copy of the recording; not only to ensure redundancy in case of equipment failure, but also as a backup plan in case Irene tried something unexpected. “Jihyo and Nayeon will be with me, ready to arrest Irene once the time is right and we’re sure she won’t try anything.”

“Fair enough,” Momo admits, “Now if you two are done with your… work, we can leave.” She gives you another sharp look, then turns and leaves the apartment. Yeri follows, but only after giving the apartment one last quick glance; unlike Seulgi, she seemed to have no desire to relive days gone by.

“Seulgi,” you say, stopping the girl as she makes to follow Momo and Yeri out.

“I need to know you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow,” you continue, as straightforwardly as you could.

“Stupid? Like what?” the girl asks, crossing her arms and facing you.

“Like kidnapping Irene. Or worse. Jihyo and Nayeon will be here to arrest her. All you need to do is get her inside the apartment. That’s all. I know you want to get back at her for what she did to you, but she’ll be prosecuted for all her crimes, I promise you. We’re going to do this the right way. We’re not going to hurt her.”

Seulgi smirks, as though she were offended by your insinuation.

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

“She betrayed you and Yeri. Left you behind to be captured by YG. You said you wanted to ask her why. That’s fine - but I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid, especially if her answer isn’t what you want to hear.”

“I just want to ask her why she left us there. One way or another, I’m going to get my answer.”

Seulgi turns away and begins to walk out of the apartment.

“Remember what I told you last week - don’t get in my way,” she states, each word cold as ice, as she steps out of the apartment to leave you alone with your thoughts.

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #red velvet seulgi #kang seulgi #male reader #Smut #pov smut #red velvet

233 notes · View notes

jq37 · 4 years ago

Text

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 4

The Case of the Puzzling Painting

Welcome back to Loam Hall where our Sylvan Sleuths are still hanging out in a room with a dead body. When we left off, Gangie had been snooping into Sly’s conversation about Fletcher Cottonbottom and now, he uses his Criminal Contacts feature to see what he knows, if anything, about a recent return. With a 26 he knows that his family used to be well respected but after the whole business with the insurance fraud and Sly busting it, the family kind of fell out of favor. So Fletcher was in a weird position where he was rich and a part of high society and had enough dirt on everyone to get them to do things for him but couldn’t actually show his face because he was disgraced. Gangie also knows that it’s rumored that Fletcher’s weapons running scheme was actually a front for moving art.

With regard to more recent news about Fletcher, Gangie was never in direct contact with him but he knows that 3-4 years ago, his most trusted henchmen started going missing--people attributed it to some kind of “Cottonbottom Curse” and that rumor is part of why Gangie decided to get out of dodge in the first place.

Buck does an insight check on the rest of the PCs and, with an 18, doesn’t clock anyone there as especially suspicious (Lars isn’t there but like..it’s Lars). Ian tries to give Squire Badger his last rites but ends up pulling the knife out, putting it back in, flapping blood everywhere with his feathers, and sending Constance into a badger rage. Buck tries to help smooth over things, claiming his big screw up was a new style of avant garde church ritual (Ian appreciates the support--who ministers to the ministers, you know?) and in the process sees his knife for the first time. Which, you know. He obviously suspected before but never nice to see.

While this is going on, Daisy sneaks off to try and check on the secret door and everyone sees her do it/eventually follows her but we’ll get back to her once we check in with Lars who is en route to the kitchen. Once in the hallway, they do a perception check and, on a 15, there are 3 doors and Ally gets to pick one. There’s a kitchen where Gilfoyle is talking to a group, a door where someone is crying behind it, and a door where they can hear nothing. Ally, the galaxy brained genius, goes for the quiet door. That’s the money door and with their ears pressed against the door, they can hear Edwina and Carolyn--the two mice maids that overheard Buck’s conversation with the Badger--whispering about what happened there and wondering if they should pay back the money they were paid to by Buck.

Gilfoyle walks out and sees Lars snooping but on a Nat 20 deception check, Lars is able to play dumb and skate by suspiciousness. Also, with a dirty 20 perception check, when the mice maids leave, Lars sees that they’ve been stealing silverware.

OK, back to Daisy who is getting to the séance room as quickly as possible. She has two rounds before people catch up to her so she’s trying to make the most of it by Investigating the painting she noticed was bolted to the wall earlier. She first rolls an 11, getting no new information. This is so frustrating to her. She’s good at this dammit! But being around Sly is rattling her terribly. She has feelings for him--strong ones. But she isn’t herself around him. How can she be with him if he makes her so unlike herself? Her introspection is enough to earn her advantage from Brennan on her second roll and boom! 25! Daisy is back.

With that roll, she notices that the eyes in the painting actually move and can be used as a spying post on the other side. Then Sly runs in and they start bickering immediately. Daisy throws a crystal ball at him and absolutely brains him on a nat 20--the first combat roll of this very RP oriented season.

Buck and Ian are still in the room with the body for the moment and Buck asks Ian about the first few names on the list Gangie gave him. There were a bunch of members of the Burrows family--a working class family that all died of a consumptive illness. And then the Diggories who died in a carriage accident. The connecting thread? All badgers. Buck then zooms away to follow Daisy, Ian follows, and Lars, seeing them as they leave the kitchens, also follows.

So all the PCs are in the séance room now and they kinda have the sense of, “OK y’all, we’re all screwed but we’re al screwed together so we better throw our lot in with each other and start working together so we don’t die because no one else here is on our side.” Buck proposes an alliance and they all agree to share info. Sly asks about Buck’s knife and Buck admits it’s his but says he didn’t do it. Sly believes him--not because he wouldn’t do it but because he has no motive (that he knows about anyway. Buck doesn’t spill about the contract).

Gangie shares the list of names from before with the whole group.It’s like half badgers and then some other critters (full list here). Sly doesn’t share any of his secret info Grant got texted. Daisy and Buck don’t share about the key (though Sly you’ll remember sat her steal it). Buck does however mention his suspicion about the fact that Gilfoyle wasn’t around when Squire Badger gave his speech and Daisy does the same about the fact that he said he would call the cops but the cops haven’t arrived yet. Lar’s remembers that Jez’s husband is gunning for at seat in parliament and wonders if this is related somehow. Daisy mentions the eyes in the painting and everyone is like way to bury the lede dude! Especially when they’ve just all spilled their secrets. Everyone checks on the painting and with a 25 Gangie can intuit that this is probably used to spy on rich people when they’re mid-séance and vulnerable and spilling secrets (which he doesn’t share but Daisy comes to a similar conclusion on her own). Buck on a 23 can smell ledgers (idk how but the DM said so and I’m reporting it) and guesses that that’s where the Squire’s real office is which means that’s probably where the contract he needs to find and destroy is too.

The group makes a list of their loose ends which are what’s on the other side of the painting, what’s up with Fletcher, and the smell of ozone. Plus Ian remembers that the date on the bust in the study is wrong and shares with the class.

Lars tries to get to the other side of the room by ripping the painting off the hinges with a very impressive 26 but there is fully a wall behind it and the noise brings Gilfoyle, Harding, and the Badger kids running. Lars notes that in the stone behind the painting it says “⅓” and then hurriedly puts the painting back. Daisy thinks that might refer to a secret third floor or basement accessible by the elevator (but my first thought was that there were 2 other spying paintings in the house somewhere).

Everyone in the room hears the Gilfoyle and co. coming and try to act natural. There is a group stealth check that they all tank so heavily that all the suspicious staff and kids need to do to suss them out is roll above a 5.

AND THEY ROLL A TWO.

With that, Lucretia appears, totally buys that they’re doing very important spiritual work in there, and in fact guards the door for them. They use the privacy bought by their very vigilant sentry to plan their next steps. Sly, Daisy, and Ian will check out the study while they rest of them check out the elevator. As they exit, Lucretia asks if they got the answers they needed out of the spirits.

Oh yes, says Daisy, echoing Lucretia’s nonsense prediction from last episode. Either something good or bad might happen. Either way, I’m excited!

Case Notes

How baller of a player move is it to say a line so poignant that the DM is forced to let you roll with advantage? I have been on the other side of that as the DM and it’s so great. MAD respect to Rekha for that. AND THEN THE DICE COOPERATED. You simply love to see it.

The other best Rekha line is Daisy to Sly upon being called out about stealing the key in his normal, coy, quippy way: You saw me bitch.

Shout out to Grant also for being constantly on as Sly. The guy is on point always. Impeccable.

I am SO SO SO happy Daisy and Sly are on the same mission team. If I was friends with either of them I’d be like, “This is a toxic relationship, they make you too crazy.” But as an outside viewer I want them to be within crystal ball throwing distance always.

The question I’m sure we’re all asking: Is Brennan enough of a minx to invoke the butler did it trope? I know everyone at the table is thinking it even if none of them have said it outright. I figured the reason the cops haven’t showed up yet was the storm but who knows?

Two pieces of housekeeping, only Buck and Gangie know what the room behind the painting is with their high rolls and, after the bit of passing it back and forth with Buck, Daisy has the key.

I really can’t do the bit about Gangie’s mom justice. I wish there was a comedy Emmy for actual play DnD shows so D20 could get the accolades it deserves just for that bit.

Brennan indicated that the conversation between the mice maids was the most interesting info (Gilfoyle convo to staff was too public to be juicy/they could get the info from one of the many gathered staff people and crying is info on its own--though I am curious about who the crying person was) but I’m wondering what he meant by that. Because the fact that Buck paid them might be interesting if Buck did it. But we know he didn’t. Is it the fact that they were in the room at all? Again, info that the party knows if not Lars specifically. The fact that they were stealing silverware? What’s Brennan’s game here?

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #mice and murder #mice and murder spoilers #the case file

23 notes · View notes

mischiefandspirits · 3 years ago

Text

Bloodlines (1 of 3)

After receiving a vague warning from his mother about his cousin and Richard, Damian goes looking for his runaway ward.

This chapter started as a flashback in the latter half of the story, but I felt like it was running on too long so I decided to cut it out and make it its own chapter. As such the events of this chapter occur a little under five years before the events of the main story, which takes place a few months after “Family Weekend.”

Part of Batkid and Robin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was surprised to see Nightwing in the Hatch when he arrived. He knew his ex-partner noticed his entrance, but the Super didn’t look up from the conversation he was having with Señal in the doorway to the infirmary.

Taking the hint, Damian turned to E-ko. “What happened?”

“We’re not entirely sure. Izzy and I were both in class and Dax was at work when Dick’s distress beacon went off so only Duke and Dre responded,” she said, glancing towards the infirmary. “By my estimate, they sent out the request for backup almost immediately after they engaged. Nightwing had been finishing up something with Metro across the bay so he responded. Izzy and I were suiting up when ‘Wing dragged them in. He thinks they were fighting talons when he got there, but the guys took off as soon as he got close. Dre was already knocked out -- drugged we think -- and Duke passed out on the way here -- bloodloss.”

“Richard?”

“Your son wasn’t there,” Nightwing said as he and Señal approached. “I didn’t know he was involved until I got here and the girls filled me in.”

“He’s not -” Damian closed his eyes and asked, “Did Signal say anything before he passed out?”

“He slurred something about Cobb and Halloway and I think he tried to say something else, but he was fading fast at that point. Didn’t recognize either name, but I’m not surprised since this seems to be Gotham stuff.”

“Nightwing.”

“Batman.”

Damian glared up at neon blue eyes. “We’re not doing this while Richard is missing.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just stay quiet then. Not sure I have anything to add since I don’t even know the kid.”

The only reaction Damian allowed himself to have was to clench his fists as he turned to Señal. “If the talons are involved, then Cobb is William Cobb. Why would he be after Richard though? The Court has only ever targeted adults for kills and street kids for would-be talons. A child from a prominent family doesn’t fit their M.O.”

“We’re not sure,” she said. “Oracle’s looking into it. In the meantime, Selina’s pulling Stephanie and Jason out of school in case they’re targeting Wayne kids. Cass and Mia are also going to bunker down somewhere safe with Tim if they can drag him away from wherever he is now on his mental breakdown road trip.”

“Don’t call it that.”

The group turned to see Duke slumped against his IV pole in the infirmary’s doorway.

“¡Bobo! Lay back down!” Señal snapped, rushing over to him.

He let his girlfriend take his weight, but didn’t let her drag him back to bed. His chest and arms were heavily bandaged and butterfly stitches were keeping a few cuts on his cheek and neck closed. He was also glaring at Señal. “Lay off Tim.”

“Sorry, I know you want to humor him.”

Duke shook his head and turned to Damian. “We’ve got a problem.”

“I know. We’ll find Richard. Go -”

“No, you don’t understand. Halloway was there. From DCF.”

It took Damian a moment, but he put the name to the face. Cathy Halloway was one of the social workers that gave him the hardest time while trying to foster Richard, but not one of the ones who’d earned his respect because they thought Damian was taking Richard in on a whim. He wasn’t sure if it was Richard’s Romani heritage she had a problem with or if it was the fact Richard was white-passing while Damian had very clearly taken after his mother, but the family had dug up a few comments made by her about keeping Richard “with his own people.”

As if the Gotham branch of the DCF had placed Richard with a family instead of in a detention center.

Backward morals aside, the Bat’s investigation hadn’t turned up anything tying her to the court. “Why was she there?”

The Hatch’s main computer lit up green, announcing Oracle’s presence. “Because Cobb told her he was Dick’s grandfather.”

“What?” Damian asked. Richard didn’t have any living relatives, the Bats checked as had DCF at the Waynes’ insistence. “Why would she believe that?”

“I’m looking into it, but she’s started the paperwork to transfer custody and she was there to help Cobb pull Dick out of school. Selina played it off like she was picking Dick up alongside Steph and Jay then went full PTA mom when she found out they’d sent Dick off with strangers. Alfred’s bringing the little Bats to you while she puts the staff through the wringer to get as much info for us as she can. I’m trying to match our maps of the Court’s labyrinth to what little information from Dick’s beacon is making it through the scramblers so, hopefully, I’ll have a location by the time you’re all suited up.”

Damian made a mental note to bring his own version of hell down on the staff if any of them survived his Step-Mother’s fury then focused back on the matter at hand. “Señal, you know the labyrinth best. Can you see if you can help Oracle? I’ll get Duke back in bed.”

She nodded and passed Duke off to him after giving her boyfriend a quick kiss.

“Sorry, Dames,” Duke said as Damian helped him back onto the medical cot. “The talons cut us off before we could get anywhere near Dick or Cobb.”

“You did your best. We know what we’re facing now. We’ll bring him home, no matter how many talons we have to freeze. Get some rest.”

Duke nodded and leaned back.

Damian returned to the main room and approached E-ko and Nightwing. He asked the latter, “Are you staying?”

The Super gave a sardonic smile. “I guess I should get going. Don’t want to overstay my welcome. Call me if you think the situation is bad enough to need outside help.”

“That’s not what -” Damian started, but Nightwing was already gone. He sighed and turned to E-ko. “Has the Court been up to anything recently that could explain coming after Richard?”

She shook her head. “They’ve been quiet since we reclaimed that youth shelter they were using to try and lure in would-be talons. We knew they’d try to find a new way to bring in kids, and trying to get their hooks in the foster system isn’t too far out there if they don’t realize we’ve been keeping a close eye on it ever since Jason, but going after someone as notable as Dick doesn’t make sense.”

“There has to be a reason.”

“Who cares, let’s just get out there and find Dickie!” Jason called as he stomped into the Hatch. He and Stephanie came towards them while Alfred went off to check on the two in the infirmary.

“Knowing why a person is doing something is very important,” Damian said and Jason scowled.

“It’s not more important than rescuing my Red Bird! Let’s go!” he snapped, shoving Damian towards the changing rooms.

“Rushing in is going to get you in trouble,” Damian huffed, but let his younger brother push him along with Stephanie trailing after.

The three quickly changed into the extra suits they kept in the Hatch in case of emergency then they, Señal, and E-ko set off towards the labyrinth entrance closest to the approximate location Señal and Oracle had decided on.

Batman took the lead, keeping an eye out for danger as Señal directed him through the tunnels. Thankfully the closer they got, the more accurate the beacon's positioning became. He was keeping a sharp eye on everything, looking for the booby traps and talons, so he immediately noticed when Señal and E-ko began to share worried looks.

“What?”

“There aren’t any mazes, meeting halls, or holding cells this way,” E-ko said. “The only things down here are…”

“Labs and cryo-caskets,” Señal finished.

“Shit!”

Batman grabbed Batkid before he could race ahead. “Hold on.”

“Hold on? I’m not going to wait around while those psychos turn Red Bird into one of those monsters!” the boy snarled, then took off down the tunnel.

“They wouldn’t start the process so soon,” E-ko tried to reassure as the four chased after him. “They always start training before beginning the Electrum injections. They want to be sure the investment would be worth it.”

A shadow slid out of a side tunnel and Batman grabbed the edge of Batkid’s cloak. He yanked the boy back just in time for the talon’s dagger to cut through the air in front of his face instead of across his throat.

E-ko intercepted the assassin with her cryo-gun as Señal repelled another two with her chain whip.

“Go find Grayson. We’ll deal with these ones,” E-ko called out and Batman nodded.

He led Batkid and Batgirl forward, bringing up Richard’s distress beacon on his gauntlet computer. They raced up to a heavy door that he quickly kicked in once confirming it was locked.

Inside, scientists and talons stood over an operating bed that held a teary eleven-year-old. Thick leather straps wrapped around Richard’s arms, legs, and chest to keep him pinned to the bed. A scientist had been preparing an iv filled with a dark silver liquid while William Cobb had leaned over Richard with his hand fisted in the boy’s hair, but all eyes turned to the Bats at their entrance.

Batkid immediately launched himself at the scientists, ripping the one closest to Richard away from him and laying into them with a fury. Batgirl and Batman tossed liquid nitrogen pellets at the talons, partially encasing three of them in ice to put them into hibernation. Batgirl engaged another two talons while Batman tackled Cobb.

“You must be getting desperate for new talons if you’re starting to steal children from Gotham’s old families, Talon.” Batman ducked one knife strike, deflected another, then landed a blow that snapped Cobb’s arm with a loud crack.

“Wayne was the one who stole him,” Cobb spat, disengaging just long enough for the Electrum to twist his bones back into place before slashing at Batman’s neck. “The Gray Son was born and raised to serve the Court of Owls. Just as his grandfather, my son, was before him.”

Batman shifted back in time for the claws aiming for his ribs to cut through nothing more than armor. “Emil Grayson was a circus acrobat.”

“Emil was raised by Nathaniel Haley to be the perfect talon, just as I was. Had Nathaniel not passed before he could return my son or instruct his own in the ways of the Court, then Emil would have surpassed even me. Instead, that fool Cameron spirited my son away to Europe. By the time the Court could reforge ties with the circus, my son was lost to us while my grandson had been raised weak and the Court had no influence over him. We could only ensure that the child he bore would receive the proper training and be returned to Gotham when the time came.”

Batman felt sick. He wanted to deny it, but Cobb had no reason to lie and the Bats hadn’t bothered to look that far into Richard’s family’s past. “The Graysons’ deaths…”

“Not the Court’s work, though it provided us with an opportunity to place the boy somewhere we could have full influence over him.”

He’d never felt better about rescuing Richard from that awful detention center. He fought down a smirk that would be both telling and uncharacteristic for Batman as he slammed his foot into Cobb’s chest, audibly breaking a few ribs. “But Wayne took him instead.”

From his place on the ground, Cobb pulled off his mask to spit out discolored blood then glared up at Batman. “It doesn’t matter. The boy is destined for the Court. Whether now or later, the Gray Son of Gotham will be a talon.”

“Never,” Batman growled, freezing the talon with a liquid nitrogen pellet.

When he turned back to the room at large, Batgirl was taking down her opponents while Batkid had tied up the scientists and was pulling off the straps. Batman went to help the boys, pulling Richard into his arms as soon as he was free. The ladies agreed to handle the talons and scientists so Batman and Batkid could get Richard up to the surface where Oracle had police cars and an ambulance waiting.

Once they were out of the labyrinth and away from any cameras the Court may have had, but before they reached the authorities, Dick pressed his face into Batman’s neck. “Dami.”

“I’m here, Dick.”

“Th-that man, he said…”

Batman tightened his grip on his ward. “I know, but I’ve got you now and I promise, the Court won’t ever touch you again.”

Richard wrapped his arms around his neck and Damian quickly ran his fingers through the black-brown curls before Batman stepped out of the shadows and passed Richard off for a paramedic to check him over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Reference:

The Batcave: Under Wayne Manor in Bristol, acts as HQ for Batman, Catwoman, and Batgirl (and Batkid)

The Perch: Under Damian and Jon's house in Somerset, acts as HQ for Nightwing and Flamebird (and Robin)

The Hatch: Under the Lucius Fox Center in Burnley, acts as HQ for We Are Future (Signal, Señal, E-ko, Flyfox, and Allegro)

The Clocktower: At the top of Gotham Clock Tower in Old Gotham, acts as HQ for Oracle and Orphan

The Roost: Under Drake Towers in Blüdhaven, acts as HQ for Black Bat and Athens

#dick grayson #damian wayne #Jason Todd #robin #red x #fanfiction #batkid and robin

10 notes · View notes