#LIKE. infinite reasons not to use one but MY first reason for switching... was just comfort. [including being able to put my hands in-

[istherewifiinhell]

[person whose injured their wrist and believes it from walking their dog]

ohhh yeah, you might wanna switch from the retractable leash you know

>the dogs gonna pull me off my feet then

[extreme levels of 'then perish']

[lynnsquared]

In My Dreams || stepsis!Yves x f!Reader

an : so i'm sorta kinda taking a little break rn but i didn't want to just post nothing this month.. 😭🙏 this little fic is just me trying to branch out and write things i'm not exactly used to, i guess!! plz enjoy (to everyone who has sent in requests please understand i see them and i will work soon.. life has been kind of messy and im sure if ur a student u will understand the stress at this time of year so plz just.. know that i will get to you soon and that i am not ignoring you)

cw : stepcest (duh), wet dreams, somnophilia, dubcon??, scissoring, uhhh i'm not sure 😭 both yves and reader and pervs but focuses mostly on yves sooo, not proofread, kind of shitty bec i've never written somno or dubcon or anything with a plot like this so this is more like a warm up round

wc : 1.6k

A string of soft moans left your mouth at the feeling of Sooyoung's gentle hands fondling your breasts. Her nimble fingers grazed over your nipples as she bit down slightly on your neck. When you winced at the feeling of her teeth sinking into your skin, Sooyoung hushed you.

"You need to be quiet, sweet thing. Mom and Dad might hear you."

In response, you attempted to keep your lips sealed tight. You tried to keep everything in while you shivered from your stepsister's affectionate touch. You could feel the damp spot in your panties becoming more and more obnoxious as it got wetter. Sooyoung seemed to be preoccupied with your tits, so the most you could do to soothe yourself was press your thighs together and let a few quiet, needy whines slip from your throat. She noticed immediately.

"Aw, you're already so excited. You wanted big sis to touch you so bad, right?"

You nodded eagerly. Sooyoung's eyes were hungry and almost predatory as a smirk formed on her lips. One hand snuck off of your breast and down to your panties, feeling your erect clit through the fabric. She rubbed delicate circles and cooed. She knew you were wet, but the extent to which you were was slightly shocking.

"Needy girl, you're soaking.."

Sooyoung chuckled before she pushed your panties to the side and effortlessly dipped her middle finger into your cunt. A sharp moan fell from you as her finger caught you off guard, the sudden contact feeling unexpected but satisfactory nonetheless. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth to make sure your parents wouldn't hear and tightly gripped onto her shoulder with the other. Before you knew it, Sooyoung's thumb found its way to your clit, and she was-

-Awoken abruptly. Tonight was the third night this week that Sooyoung had a wet dream about you, her younger stepsister. These dreams started a few months after your parents got married. At first, she felt so much shame, but now they'd just become a part of her life. You found Sooyoung odd because she rarely spoke to you, but this shame was the reason behind that. She could barely stand facing you, so the idea of talking to you was infinitely more horrifying. She was afraid of these desires. She was worried about her ability to control herself around you, so she closed you out entirely. It's been an awkward few months living with her since then, but she assumed this was for the best.

She sighed as she woke up, shaking and sweaty. She slept in only her tank top and panties, and she could feel the dampness between her thighs when they pressed together as she sat up. She rubbed her eyes, switched her light on, and looked at the mattress. There was a stain from her slick. She cursed under her breath and scratched her head. This was the most intense reaction her body had after a wet dream.

She felt a little shame, but she couldn't shake the feeling of arousal. She sat up, stretched, and checked the time on the clock on her dresser. It was 11:30. That was late, but not late enough for you to be asleep. The thought of you being awake now turned her on for some reason. She was uncontrollably wet, and it only got worse with the sudden urge to go into your room and beg for help. 

With shaky legs, Sooyoung stood up and moved towards your room as quietly as possible. She turned the knob to your door and gradually pushed it open. When she noticed your lamp was still on, she opened it faster, assuming you were awake. She stepped in, turned around, and shut the door before analyzing her surroundings. She immediately noticed that while your lamp was on, its light was dim, and you were asleep on your bed. 

As perverted as it sounds, your sleeping face turned her on.

It turned her on a lot.

No amount of guilt she felt could've surpassed her desire. Her guilt wasn't even apparent when she crawled into your bed. She stared at your sleeping face and flushed. You were so pretty when you slept. She couldn't help but let her hands wander past the band of her panties. She started to touch herself softly, coming in contact with the immense amount of slick she'd produced in her sleep. When her fingers grazed over her clit, a sharp but still quiet moan escaped her throat. She analyzed every detail of your face. She could tell you were in a deep sleep. 

That's when something hit her. You were the deepest sleeper she'd ever seen. She recalled a few months ago when you'd watched a movie with your parents. You fell asleep on the couch after 30 minutes and stayed there until morning. She remembered being shocked when you didn't stir in the slightest, as the movie was incredibly loud. Your inability to be disturbed when you slept gave her an idea. 

Slowly, Sooyoung sat up. She removed her hand from her underwear and flipped you onto your back, looking for any signs of disturbance before continuing. When she was confident you were undisturbed, she pulled off your shorts, leaving you in your panties. She faintly blushed when she saw them. She almost snapped back to reality and realized how perverted she was acting, but she couldn't stop herself.

She took off her panties, then yours, biting her lip when she revealed your crotch in its entirety. Looking at your face again for discomfort, she lifted your legs and spread them slowly. When she got you to a position she believed would be the most comfortable, her desire consumed her again. She placed her clit against yours and bit her lip. Your eyebrows kneaded together, a quiet groan coming from your throat. Sooyoung, as worried as she was about you waking up, couldn't hear you. She was lost in her pleasure as a string of drool fell down her chin. 

Just sitting with your clits pressed together eventually wasn't enough for her. She started to hump your pussy in a slow rhythm, holding back a whine with every movement. She was desperate to get off and even more desperate to feel your body against hers. She couldn't help but go faster, her lewd behavior fueled by the feeling of your cunt pulsing against hers. You liked it. You liked her... Even if you didn't know it.

Sooyoung was eventually unable to hold back her noises. She picked up her pace and panted, the occasional grunt slipping out as propping one of your legs up to deepen the contact between your folds and hers. She threw her head back and sighed, coming closer and closer to her orgasm. The room was silent, except for the subtle slap of your thighs and her grunting. That was until the silence broke unexpectedly. 

You shifted a bit before groggily opening your eyes. You were immediately alarmed when you realized you were naked from the waist down, and even more so when you felt your stepsister rubbing your clits together and moaning like a fool. She didn't notice you woke up until you spoke softly. "S-Sooyoung..?"

With that, her movements didn't cease but slowed. She looked down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face. She was so horny she couldn't bring herself to stop or even acknowledge how you might've felt. She just placed one palm over your mouth frantically and hushed you. "S-sis, shh.. It's ok, it's just me.."

You whined, partly because of discomfort but also because it was impossible not to when her erect clit hit yours. You would be lying if you said you'd never fantasized about her as well, and you were too tired to tell her to stop. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn't have been so afraid. 

Sooyoung spoke as she removed her hand from your mouth, placing it back where it had been before as she sped up again. "I-I'm close, let me finish... Let me finish, and I'll go away.."

As she continued, you started to enjoy the feeling of her body on yours. Moans and pleas for more fell from your throat as you could feel yourself approaching your orgasm as well. Sooyoung huffed before she winced sharply and ceased her humping. Her cunt twitched as she pressed it tightly to yours, a layer of cum coating your pussy before you came as well. You came shockingly fast, but she'd been stimulating you for as long as you were stimulating her. It was only so shocking because you woke up in the middle of it.

Sooyoung was a little surprised when you gave in and came. She expected you to be afraid and push her away, but you didn't. You had the same reaction as she did. She was ecstatic.

Instead of leaving like she said she would, she flopped over next to you and panted, pulling her panties back on. She looked at you with her slightly teary eyes and spoke softly. "I'm sorry, sis.." 

"No, don't apologize.." You muttered, your face flushing as she stared at you. "It's fine... I just have to process that." 

Sooyoung fell quiet as your words fell on her ears. You really didn't mind that? What a dream come true. Silently, she clung to your side tightly and let her eyes flutter shut. She grew drowsy again as you sighed, but she didn't expect you to speak again. "We have to talk about this tomorrow, though." 

She nodded, agreeing to talk with you. She nuzzled as close as she could and let herself drift off, you following her into sleep shortly after. It was more than obvious that it didn't matter how much you tried to satisfy each other. No matter what, you would keep meeting Sooyoung in her dreams and making her crave things she never knew she needed.

[wanderingblindly]

hello loveeee!! given we love an ambient moment - i would love you to conjure me something with this little mood board for either lestappen or sebchal (ie my two greatest loves other than my Wives)

thank you kindly, ms wanderingblindly 💛💛

BET YOU THOUGH I WAS NEVER GONNA DO THIS HUH!!!! Rest assured i don't delete prompts, i simply agonize until i randomly decide to write one in thirty minutes before bed. anyways, enjoy!

prompt post here xx

Sentimental Reasons (Charles Leclerc/Sebastian Vettel, 650 words)

There are lots of things about Sebastian that he assumes Charles doesn't know.

The sky above them is endlessly black, beautiful scatters of stars shining upon empty fields as far as the eye can see. And it's silent, nearly silent, as Charles rests his head against the still-warm window, holding on to memories of the long-gone sun. His eyes flutter closed, lulled half to sleep by the purr of the engine, the vibration against his temple, the deep warmth in his chest.

Sebastian hums when he's alone -- when Charles is asleep.

He does it now, a low melody that Charles can't put his finger on. He's not very good at it, technically, but it's lovely in its imperfection, its missed notes; it's lovely in its intimacy, its gentleness. Charles would smile if he didn't want to give himself away, because he loves listening to it.

Sebastian's humming is like his voice, like his hands; sometimes, when it's just the two of them, Charles feels like he's the only one that truly understands them.

He can't put his finger on the melody, slow and smooth. It makes him think of black and white movies, the cheesy romantic ones that mémè played at Christmas when he was a little boy.

There's a faint rustling, the click of a button; the silence is filled with soft music, the volume turned almost all the way down. It's a gentle piano opening.

Sleep continues to seep around the edges of his mind. He's warm, warm like off-season evenings spent wrapped up in each other's arms on Sebastian's couch, someone's head resting on someone's chest, their heartbeats slowly finding a single rhythm. He can feel Sebastian next to him, radiating home even in the middle of nowhere.

Sebastian sings when he's alone -- when Charles is asleep.

And he does it now, switches from humming along with the jazz instrumental to singing.

His voice is rough, the words weak in their quietness. He never wants to disturb Charles when he finally falls asleep, even if it's with a lullaby.

I love you For sentimental reasons. I hope you do believe me, I'll give you my heart.

He sings I love you like the first time he said it Charles, under a sky so different than this one. He sings it like it's only for Charles's ears, like the rest of the world doesn't deserve to know what happens between them. With wobbly edges and wide-eye earnestness, Sebastian sings along.

Charles's cheeks flush pink, familiar warmth blooming in his chest.

The road flies by under their tires, headlights pointed towards an infinitely long and impossibly straight road that stretches beyond the horizon. And yet, in this single moment beneath these specific stars, Sebastian sings for Charles -- even if he doesn't think he can hear it.

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips, sappy and small.

Sebastian talks to him, when he thinks he's asleep.

"My parents used to dance in the kitchen to this song, after they thought we were asleep," He whispers, and Charles knows he's slowly moving his head to the music. Sebastian always does. "It was the most beautiful thing in the world."

I think of you every morning, Dream of you every night. Darling, I'm never lonely Whenever you are in sight.

And in that moment, as Sebastian reaches a feather-light hand to rest on Charles's thigh, they've created a moment even more beautiful -- or perhaps just beautiful in its own way. In the scant weeks before they're thrust back into the constant scrutiny and intensity of the season, they've created their own little kitchen, danced to their own song.

With the endless expanse of the American unknown behind and before them, in the warmth of the summer night and Sebastian's voice, they're in love.

[wardenparker]

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world where his ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨💖Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila. 💖✨  

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always18+ Word Count: 8.5k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this series include: divorce, break ups, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption.**  Summary: Paris may be tumultuous at first, but it’s the City of Love for a very good reason. Guys, I have no defense for this one. I just really love Paris and want to go there so fucking badly... Notes: Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who came along for this wonderful ride with us! Next week we’ll be posting the epilogue for this story and then rolling right into something new immediately. The wheels of chaos in our minds never stop rolling so the fics just keep on coming. 🧡🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

Thanks to the overnight flight and the comfort of being able to sleep in first class, when you and Marcus touch down in Paris at 8:30 the next morning, you pretty much manage to avoid the fuzzy feeling of jetlag. It's been years since you've been back here but everything feels just the same, giving you a satisfying feeling of homecoming as you set out through the airport toward the taxi stand to ride out to his colleague's office.

"Sorry." Marcus tosses you a small, apologetic look as the taxi drives erratically through the city. "I'll see what's up and then if you want to go to the hotel, we can see about checking in." He knows you might not be up for hitting the ground running and he can carry this alone if he needs to.

“No, no, it’s okay.” As the city passes by the taxi windows you sink back and allow yourself an indulgent smile. You might be working, but it’s nice to be back. “Let’s go and be briefed for the case and all of that. Find out what we’re working with.”

“Thank you.” Marcus picks up your hand and kisses the back of it. “For coming with me. Saves me from having to choose an agent to bring with me.”

“I hope I’m half as effective as any of your team members are.” You kiss the back of his hand in turn and give it a supportive squeeze. The people you’ve met from his department have all been friendly and kind, and his stories paint them to be very good at their jobs on top of being nice people. “Plus, I’m infinitely more fun to play dress up with.”

“And I won’t feel exceedingly guilty if I had to pretend to be romantic with a co-worker.” Marcus knows there will be a time, but he doesn’t want to do that so early in your renewed relationship.

“Work is work.” Of all the problems you ever did have, jealousy or worry about infidelity was never one of them. You and Marcus are both loyal people to the core.

“I know.” The fact that your belief in him doesn’t waver is incredible. “But right now, work has you playing my wife.” He winks at you. “You might be good at that role.”

"It's almost like method acting," you tease, briefly sticking your tongue out at him as the taxi winds its way toward the nondescript office where his colleagues are waiting.

Marcus helps you out and tips the driver, hauling the luggage up the stairs after shooting you a dirty look when you protest that you can get your own bag. “Get the door.” He huffs at you.

“Stubborn.” You chide him teasingly, and slip past him to open the door. The woman at the desk seems pleasantly surprised that you speak much better French than Marcus, but switches to English for ease. She directs you to the second floor and gives you an office number, assuring Marcus that he is expected.

“Monsieur Pike.” The Interpol agent immediately greets you at the elevator, obviously being given a heads up about your arrival. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Marcus nods, adjusting bags so he can shake hands. “Happy to help, this is Dr. Pike. She is a director at the Smithsonian.” He introduces you, looking at you with quiet pride.

“Pike?” Ducasse looks between you, at the suitcases Marcus won’t let you carry and how you stand close together, keeping each other in your line of sight despite not always being focused on the same thing. Confident but not showing off. “I did not know you had gotten married. Welcome, Madame. Your expertise will be invaluable.”

Marcus catches your eye, tilting his head to communicate that he will follow your lead on how to explain your relationship to these people. Not wanting to embarrass you or to make you feel as if you are pressed to answer dozens of questions.

“We are divorced, but reconciled. A story for another time, perhaps.” Honesty, above all, especially when dealing with his colleagues, and you shake the man’s hand politely before allowing yourself to be ushered into a nearby office. “I am happy to extend my expertise to the FBI and to INTERPOL.”

“That will be a story to hear.” Ducasse’s brows shoot up in intrigue but he doesn’t press, instead motioning to you towards a seat and taking one of the bags from Marcus to stack the luggage in the corner of a cluttered office.

“What can you tell us about this case?” Marcus ask, shifting the conversation to the matter at hand. “How did you come to know about the art and this auction?”

"We had a tip that one of the warehouses that the local police were monitoring has seen some substantial movement and pursued several leads before finding the location of the auction. There is a mansion in Faubourg Saint-Germain currently owned by an alias of Jean-Luc Poitiers." The quick-speaking INTERPOL agent begins to point out photographs on the pin board lining one wall of the crowded room. "Poitiers has been underground long enough for any of the heat from his competition to die down, and it appears that this is where he has been suffering his isolation." Ducasse rolls his eyes as though considering a mansion in the gorgeous Seventh Arrdonissement a place to suffer is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. "The auction is extremely exclusive, by invitation only, but we have taken care of that while you were in the air."

“You got us an invite.” Marcus grins. “Who are we pretending to be?”

"A married couple, conveniently." Ducasse pulls a file out from under several other things on the desk beside him and hands it to Marcus to peruse. "Mr. and Mrs. Luke Martinez of New York City. Second house in the Hamptons, eight figure annual income from real estate holdings and investments. You will be asked to submit banking details upon your arrival, we will supply you with the numbers and the false funds." He leans back, half-sitting on the edge of his desk. "We will surround the building, ready to lock it down for arrests and to seize the stolen art, but we need you to actually put eyes on those paintings."

“What I wouldn’t give to have that be our lives.” Marcus jokes as he flips through the files and skims the background on the couple. “We will need to buy some clothes that reflect this.”

"You can attend to that this afternoon. There is some budget to be spared for it." Ducasse had made sure of it, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

"Does Mrs. Martinez have a listed career or am I a housewife?" You don't peak over Marcus's arm at the file in case there are things that aren't meant to be shared with civilians. You just want to have your story straight. "Or, um...a first name?"

“There’s nothing here you can’t see as a consultant on this case.” Marcus provides and grins at you. “Your name is Penelope.” He explains as he hands the file over.

"Well of course, why wouldn't it be?" The file has pages of background information and numbers that you hope you can memorize, but as you start to flip through the pages you practically feel your heart stop. There is a photograph of two men walking down the street side by side, one talking into a cell phone and the other checking his watch. The man on his phone is tall and lean, with curly brown hair and bright green eyes, and a jawline only slightly less defined than Marcus's. The crisp, blue suit is nothing like you remember, but his face is unmistakable. "Wh—who is this?" You ask, pointing at the image like you're afraid the man might jump out of the photograph and attack.

“That—” Ducasse snorts and taps the photo. “Is Henri Aubel.” He informs you. “He has been in Interpol’s sights for a long time, but we have been unable to pinpoint the crimes on him, unfortunately.”

"I..." Looking between Marcus and Ducasse, you can feel your stomach drop and a wave of nausea hits you out of nowhere. "I know him," you murmur, reaching for Marcus's hand like a security blanket. "I mean...we—we dated. While I was living here...years ago." The man you had known then was bright and seemingly sincere. Incredibly charming, yes, but you had never had any kind of inclination whatsoever that he was a criminal.

“Shit.” Marcus immediately frowns, aware that your cover won’t work. “Then we need a new game plan. Because if he recognizes her, ‘Penelope Martinez’ will be in danger.” The last thing he wants or is willing to do, it put you in danger for a case.

“Was it a close relationship?” Typically not a man to pry for personal information from new acquaintances, the rules have just changed for Ducasse since this is related to his case. He flies around to the other side of his desk to sit down, immediately tapping away at his keyboard to bring up the file on Henri Aubel. “What did you know of him then?”

The irony isn’t lost on you. To have just left a case with Marcus’s ex-fiancée behind only last night and for this one to now include your ex-boyfriend? The universe is having a nice laugh at your expense. “I met him at a gallery opening while I was a student at the Sorbonne. We…we were on and off for about two years, but I never had any idea that what he was involved in was criminal. I just thought he was an artist with a wealthy family.” Although, now that you know that he is wanted by INTERPOL, you’ll be combing back through every memory you have of him to see what you can glean. You squeeze Marcus’s hand gently, feeling like a child who has been caught being naughty. “I’m sorry,” you murmur under your breath, knowing that you have made this all incredibly awkward.

Marcus frowns and shakes his head. “It was ten years ago.” He reminds you. “It’s hard to know who people will become when you are a college student.” The only thing he’s worried about is your safety. “But maybe this is better.” He offers. “We don’t go in as the Martinez’s, did— did Henri know about me? Or that Pike was your married name?”

“Yes.” Swallowing is harsh and almost painful, like the lump in your throat is very real. “But back then you were going to be in marketing. I never had any idea you would go into law enforcement.”

“Good.” Marcus flashes you a supportive smile, aware that your guilt is amplified right now. He turns towards Ducasse. “So we pose as ourselves, just— fictional images of them. Is that doable with the invitations?” He asks seriously. Neither one of you are on social media, so it wasn’t like accounts would have to be modified.

“It should be.” Ducasse is nodding as types rather furiously. “At the risk of being indelicate, Madame, this may work to our advantage. A surprise like this can throw off even the most careful of men.” He looks up at you, eyebrows raised slightly, and tilts his head. “Henri Aubel is a dangerous man. If you did not know that about him, then you did not know the real him.”

“Then I guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.” There is an empty chair nearby, and you sit down in it with the case file still in your hands. “I think it will surprise him, though, to see me. We were…well, I thought we were very close. But obviously he was never entirely honest with me.”

Marcus takes the file from your hand, turning towards you and giving you his full attention. “Listen to me, baby,” he begs you softly, seeing the hurt and turmoil in your eyes. “Men like Aubel have been taught from a young age to hide who they truly are. He never had any intention of you finding out who he is. Took advantage of you being unfamiliar with his family, with France. That makes him manipulative, you did nothing wrong.”

“Thank you.” Even though your voice is quiet it’s clear, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to squeeze tightly and murmur a soft “I love you” in his ear. It feels heavy, and wrong, and like you’re in trouble, but you know that’s just the shock of discovery.

“So we say that I’m— fuck, I was a hedge fund manager who made it big and wants to indulge in art?” Marcus tosses out, looking over at Ducasse. “How does that sound? New money, and my wife knows art?”

“That will work.” The INTERPOL agent nods, looking back at his screen before looking over at Marcus again. “Use New York City as your base, but use whatever details of your past suit you. The banking details are an offshore account in order not to raise any red flags, and I will simply change the name on the false account to reflect your real name. There is jewelry in the evidence lock up that you can use as props.” He sees nothing on either of your fingers now, so obviously it will be needed. “When you are out today getting your clothing for tomorrow night, please be as obviously affectionate as you feel comfortable with. On the off chance that Aubel has been watching to see if Dr. Pike will come back to Paris, we want your cover to hold up.”

Marcus nods, looking back at you again. “Are you okay with this?” He asks softly. “I can still find someone else if you don’t want to see him again.”

“It would be slightly hypocritical to back out when you just had to spend three weeks with a case with your ex.” You remind him. “And…and Monsieur Ducasse seems to think it could help.” You shake your head, offering Marcus a smile when you can summon it up. “I’ll be okay. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be okay.”

"I won't leave your side." Marcus promises, sure that he will stick to you like glue in the first undercover op you've ever participated in. His own need to make sure you are safe wouldn't allow it, even if he thought this Aubel wouldn't hurt you.

“We will do everything in our power to make sure no harm comes to you.” Ducasse assures you earnestly. “If I thought this would be more dangerous for you for knowing Aubel, I would not send you in. But I must ask, Madame. Do you know how to use a gun?”

The question makes you shiver a little, not being a big fan of firearms, but you nod. “Marcus has taken me to the firing range. We have one in the house, so I’ve learned.”

Ducasse nods and his eyes flicker over towards the FBI agent. He can tell that the man who had previously worked on a case with INTERPOL isn't exactly comfortable with his wife being in harm’s way. Not that he blames him, but this is a fortuitous situation and he will use everything in his power to get Aubel behind bars. He's wasted too many hours on chasing him to give up because your ex is the suspect. "I doubt you will need to, but we always send in our operatives armed." He allows.

“Why don’t you tell us more of what we’ll need to know for tomorrow?” With a whole day and night to prepare, you know that there will be plenty to learn and plenty of time to ask questions, but also plenty of time to build an alibi by being seen in the city. If what Ducasse says is true, people may be watching.

******

Hours later, Marcus sighs in relief when you are able to get to your rooms. With the knowledge that people might be watching, the bags had been delivered and you along with Marcus had started a very loving shopping trip along some of the more upscale stores in Paris. Now he's happy to just be alone with you and not worry about someone photographing you or approaching.

“I never thought shopping on the Champs-Élysées would be stressful.” Wrapped up in his arms in the exquisite suite, you and Marcus both sigh heavily and absorb the calm of being alone for a little while.

"It doesn't help when you are wondering when your ex is going to pop out from behind a bush." Marcus pulls you into his arms and sighs. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know. I wouldn't have put you in the middle of this if I had."

“You didn’t know?” You huff at him, perching your chin on his chest to look up at him. “I didn’t know! I feel like such an idiot never realizing he was lying to me for two whole years. And honey…” Fingers gently tracing his face, you cup his cheek in your palm and offer him a smile. “I would never let you face this alone if there is even the tiniest possibility that I can help.”

“I appreciate that.” He sighs softly. “So much for romance in Paris.” He can’t help but chuckle. “Not exactly turning out how I wanted.”

“René suggested we spend some of tomorrow doing romantic or touristy things, so we can still have some fun.” The INTERPOL agent had turned out to be a very kind and likable man, and by the time lunch came you and he had been joking together over tartine. “I know it’s not perfect, but maybe we can squeeze an extra day of paperwork,” you say the word in air quotes, “out after this is over and have a day to ourselves?”

“That would work.” Marcus admits, “taking in the sights before we buy stolen artwork.”

“I could take you to my old neighborhood?” It’s something you wanted to do anyway, and might feel a little less like being on display. “Walk around, grab lunch, maybe go in and out of some shops?”

"Whatever you want to do." Marcus promises. Despite the curve ball, he wants this trip to be one of fond memories when you look back on it years from now. Especially since he will be able to propose in the city that you had always loved.

“I had a couple of places that I always thought you would love.” And that just makes you hug him a little tighter, knowing that something good will come out of this trip no matter what happens with the case - although you know Marcus will see it through to the best possible outcome.

"I will love them." Marcus promises. "Because I will be with you."

“I love you, too.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring him down for a kiss and let it linger in the privacy of your quiet suite of rooms. “What do you want to do before dinner?” Ducasse had suggested a visible night on the town just in case Henri or his people were having you watched - either as his ex or as an attendee of the auction.

"I will leave it up to you." Marcus leans back and shoots you a grin. "This is your city, baby." He sends you a wink. "Show me the sights."

“Then we’re going to Harry’s after dinner.” Harry’s New York Bar is a legendary hangout of the Lost Generation, and given his love of all things F Scott Fitzgerald, it will be the perfect place for celebrating tonight. “You’ll love it. I mean, I hope you will.”

"Harry's?" Marcus looks at you skeptically. "That sounds like a nice place to drink." He hums and slides his hands down to caress your ass. "You want to get ready to go out?"

"You just want to get me into one of those slinky dresses we bought today." You wiggle your ass in his hand and grin, giggling when he raises an eyebrow at you like that should have been obvious. "Should we eat dinner someplace swanky to keep up appearances?"

"What is the swankiest place we can get reservations at the last minute?" He asks, smirking at you because there is nothing he wants more than you to put on a slinky dress and go have a fabulous meal before he proposes in one of the most romantic cities in the world. The ring in his pocket is burning a hole in it and he wants to see it on your finger.

“I bet if we had the concierge call it would do better than if one of us tried.” Your eyes flick up to his with mischief shining in them, wondering if you could even pull this idea off. “Madame Brasserie or Jules Verne? À la Tour Eiffel?”

"Whichever one you've never been too and always wanted to try." He tells you indulgently.

"Madame Brasserie is the newer of the two restaurants in the Eiffel Tower, so it might be harder. But I wouldn't mind eating at either one." There's something altogether too indulgent about the idea and you sigh a little dreamily. "I'll call down to the front desk and see what they can do."

"I'm going to jump in the shower." Marcus offers. "We've been going nonstop since we got here and I at least want to wash off the travel before dinner tonight."

"That sounds like a plan." You reach up to kiss him again before letting him out of your arms. "I'll shower after you. Otherwise we'll be having room service because we can't keep our hands off each other."

"You know that's exactly what would happen." Marcus winks at you and grabs his bag so he can get his toiletry kit out. "Make your calls and I'll be getting sudsy in there."

******

About an hour and a half later you're both finally ready and barely keeping your hands off of each other despite showering separately. The blue velvet dress you chose for tonight hugs all of Marcus's favourite parts of your body and the perfectly fitted charcoal gray suit he settled on is elegant and easy, making him look even more effortlessly handsome than usual. "The concierge said he would have a car waiting for us." You tell him, taking one step toward the door of your suite before he can pounce and trying to swallow down your nerves over the little blue box in the bottom of your purse. "Jules Verne had one reservation left for tonight and we got in just in time." And because you told the concierge about your plans, he had made sure to arrange for a few things to be waiting for you in your room when you returned tonight.

"Perfect." Marcus has heard of the restaurant and he wants nothing more than for this to be the perfect night. Regardless of what happens on the case, he wants you to have a night you can look back at dreamily. His first proposal had been sweet and earnest, not exactly fancy, but now the need for a grand gesture is almost compulsory. "We still have the elevator ride down to be handsy."

"Let's hope we get it to ourselves then." You throw him a wink over your shoulder before heading out the door, knowing Marcus will be close on your heels.

"Jesus, Paris you is saucy" Marcus chuckles as he hustles after you. "I like it."

"I've decided to enjoy the trip and make the most of it." The door clicks shut behind him and his arm slips around your waist as you walk down the hallway together, just a few feet to the corner and then the elevators, but still far enough for you to get cozy while you walk. "My favourite city in the world with my favourite person is not something to waste."

“Favorite person huh?” The proud grin stretches across his face and he edges closer when you reach the elevator, then he leans forward to call the car to your floor. “I am honored. Especially since you’re my favorite person.”

"I think honoured might be a stretch," you tease, leaning against the wall while you wait for the elevator together. "All I want is for you to be happy, baby. To be the one that makes you happy."

“Baby – you’ve always made me happy.” That is something that he can promise. Right up until you wanted out, Marcus had been the happiest he had ever been in his life. He reaches up and caresses your neck. “Always.”

"I love you so much." Wishing you could go back and erase the years apart won't change anything, but you lean up to kiss him now without hesitation. The future is what matters now. Your future together.

“I love you too.” The promise is simple, heartfelt and the look in your eyes has him wanting to drop down to his knee right now, but he knows it’s not time.

"Come on, love." The soft ding of the elevator interrupts you, but it doesn't matter. There will be plenty more sweet moments before the night is over.

Marcus allows you to pull him into the elevator and hums when he finds the car empty. “Should I wait to kiss you?” He asks, smirking slightly. “Don’t want to mess up your lipstick.”

The eyebrow you raise at him is incredulous, and you shake your head at him as the door closes to leave you alone for at least another minute. "Kiss proof," you inform him, as though it were ridiculous that you would wear anything else around him.

Thank God for whoever invented 'kiss proof' lipstick. Marcus has always loved you without makeup, straight out of the bed, but there is something so sexy when you are dressed up. Even if it's not technically for him, he feels like it is. Just like you love when he puts on cologne. Tugging you closer, he grins at you. "Well, we need to test that." He hums, "we haven't kissed with this lipstick color on."

“It’s a new brand, too.” He’s drawing you into him so easily you feel like a moth going to a spectacularly handsome flame. “How will know they’re telling the truth unless we test it?”

“Indeed.” Marcus makes it slow, gentle. Taking his time like the car isn’t slowing down as it reaches the ground floor.

It’s so easy to wrap up in each other. To let yourselves get carried away with affection and the romance of being in Paris together. The passionate kiss is intentionally and immediately intense – deep and luxurious and would probably be borderline pornographic if anyone was watching.

The doors open and there is a discreet cough before Marcus pulls away. Smiling apologetically as he finds a couple waiting to come onto the car. “Désolé pour ça.” Sorry about that. The apology is perfunctory, because he’s not sorry at all.

You can hear the woman muttering about Americans as you and Marcus stroll out through the lobby and it’s all you can do to contain your giggles. “Sorry not sorry.” You whisper, beaming at him. The concierge is waiting to load you into the car that he has ordered on your behalf, and you swear you feel like you’re in a movie. It might be a crime thriller, but it’s still elegant and passionate, and you love it.

"I'm not sorry either." Marcus keeps his hand on your back until you are sliding into the car and he is slipping in beside you. Allowing you to tell the driver where you are going since you are better familiar with the area.

Fortunately for tonight’s plans, you aren’t far from the Eiffel Tour. It’s an easy sight from the windows of your suite and a straightforward drive that only takes a few minutes - though the walk would be uncomfortable in heels. You’re grateful to have the driver and will certainly be tipping him at the end of the night even though it isn’t a necessity here the way it is in the US. When he lets you out at the edge of the park that surrounds the monument, Marcus slips out first and you happily accept his hand to maintain a little propriety while climbing out of the car in a skirt much shorter than your usual. “Now we go up,” you tell Marcus, practically sighing as you look up through the layers and layers of metal that compose the Eiffel Tower. Some people say they’re disappointed the first time they see it, but you’ve never understood why. It’s remarkable - an architectural triumph that stands out in the Paris skyline like a beacon.

“Did you know that the tower only took two years, two months and five days to build?” Marcus asks, nearly giddy as he climbs out of the car and offers you his hand. “Not bad for something that’s stood for over one hundred years.”

“I thought you might like to see it up close.” Yes, he has been to Paris for work, but you doubt he’s taken any extra leisure time for himself in all of that. “I came here my very first night in the city. I dropped off my bags at my little student apartment, and started walking across the city. Bought a crepe from a vendor on the street and sat on…” It takes you a second to find it, but as your eyes comb the area, they land on a bench a few yards away. “That bench, and looked up at the Tour Eiffel as I ate my dinner.”

“What did you think about while you were looking up at her?” Marcus asks curiously, wanting to know about your time here. Even if he wasn’t a part of it, you had history here.

"That she made me feel less lonely." You thread your fingers through his gently and give them a soft squeeze. It might sound like a sentimental answer, but you know that Marcus will understand. "If I was sitting here looking up at her, surely I wasn't the only one. So...it sort of became tradition. Any time I felt lonely I would come sit and spend time with her. And I knew that she was keeping other lonely people company. So I was automatically less alone."

“I understand that.” Marcus does, he had found plenty of little parks or monuments where he had been living to visit. Wanting to feel surrounded. It had always been that way since you had left.

"Come on, love." A small tug on his hand has both of you smiling at each other, but you nod toward the monument. "There's a special elevator for people having dinner at Jules Verne."

“How touristy is it that we are having dinner here?” He asks as you drag him closer to you. It might be incredibly cliché, but he’s thinking about proposing after dinner. Asking you if you will go up to the observation deck with him.

“Extremely.” And it doesn’t bother you in the least. In fact, it’s sweet. Sharing the city with Marcus means playing tourist in the best way possible. “But I think that’s a good thing. It’s a first for both of us and it’s going to be a beautiful meal.”

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” Marcus admits, staring at you like you hung the moon. “The last time I was here, I—I couldn’t make myself come here.”

You turn back to him after hitting the button for the elevator, a soft but serious expression drawn on your face as you reach to touch his cheek. “Neither of us ever has to face anything along again, Marc.” You can promise him that. Wholeheartedly and without hesitation. “From now on, each chapter of our lives will have two main characters.”

“I love you.” Marcus whispers, knowing that down to the very fiber of his being. He’s never stopped, never. Not even when he convinced himself that he had moved on. You were just ingrained in his being like the hair color on his head or the way he has to lay on his right side to really sleep.

“I love you too.” Through all the ups and downs, the hardest struggles and the clearest days, it’s always been him. “Always.”

The ride up to the restaurant is shared with a young couple who are obviously on their honeymoon, making Marcus grin at the display of young love. “Don’t act like that’s not exactly how we are,” you murmur under your breath to him once the other couple has moved ahead of you to the maître’d stand. The couple are probably barely older than you were the first time you got married and you’re all the exact same level of handsy.

“Exactly.” Marcus steps up to the maître’d stand once they are being led off to be seat. “The couple in front of us?” He gestures towards the couple. “Champagne? To their table? And I will pay their bill.” He decides, wanting them to have a magical night.

“Oui, monsieur…” The gentleman provides ample space for Marcus to say his last name, and smiles in polite acknowledgment at the name Pike. He knows this reservation. Took it himself barely two hours ago. “Right this way,” he says in clear English, gracefully motioning for you to follow.

“After you.” Marcus lets you walk in front of him, so he can help you sit and so he can glance down at your ass in the gorgeous dress you are wearing. Reminding himself of exactly what is underneath.

The indulgent mood you’re both in extends to deciding on the seven-course menu with all the recommended wine pairings, and settling in at your table in the corner with a perfect view of Paris below from the window beside you.

“This is probably better than anything we could have imagined when we were their age.” Marcus had seen the surprise and delight in the younger couple’s faces when the champagne had been delivered. Looking around to see who had gifted them such a thing, Marcus hadn’t let them know. Hoping that one day, they would do the same to another young couple starting out.

“I hope they’re so excited for everything to come.” You reach across the table to link your fingers together and run your thumb over the back of Marcus’s hand. “They’re starting a whole new chapter of their lives.”

“Yes, they are.” Marcus looks down at your joined hands and smiles. Fully aware that the same can be said for you. The ring in his pocket is making him eager for the dinner to be over. You are wearing a ring that is a part of the mission tomorrow, but tonight, he wants you to wear his.

“Speaking of which.” The smile you flash him is bright and bubbly, and you hang onto his hand like a lifeline. “I want to talk to you about a dream I had on the flight over last night.” It’s just a silly thing, but it’s about sharing those silly thoughts and future plans with him. Something that you had trouble with years ago.

“Oh?” Marcus ticks his brow up in curiosity. “What kind of dream is this? I promise I didn’t leave the toilet seat up or cheat on you with your non-existent cousin.”

“No, it was nothing like that.” Although the idea of being cross with him over a dream about leaving the toilet seat up makes you laugh. “It was a coming-home-from-work dream.”

“Oh yeah?” He shuffles closer, getting the hint that this is one of those ‘want to make this happen’ dreams. “Coming home to me, I hope?”

“And the kids.” When you nod it’s with heated cheeks and a shy smile. “In the dream it was some kind of holiday? I couldn’t tell what, but I came home and you had been decorating the house with the kids all day to surprise me.”

“Halloween.” Marcus guesses, knowing how much you love the spooky holiday.

“Maybe.” The fact that he’s playing along has you lighting up as you smile at him. “But I came home, and you told me that before we had dinner, that the kids had a surprise for me.” In the dream you remember being incredulous until Marcus had supported this surprise - a fact which reassured you that it wasn’t a brand new crayon mural on the living wall or something like that. “And that surprise was a very cute and tiny little kitten.”

“A kitten, huh?” Marcus grins and shakes his head in amusement. He’s had a mild cat allergy but luckily the medications had improved since he was a child. “A smokey grey one or a black cat?”

“I was thinking one of the breeds that’s kinder to allergies,” you admit sheepishly, knowing he would probably be a little extra sneezy when the dear cat sheds seasonally. “In the dream it was a Siamese, but I don’t know how they are for shedding.”

“We can always look into that. I think they are better?” He tilts his head. “But honestly...” he twists his fingers around and pulls your hand closer. “I like the idea of having to introduce the baby to the cat when we bring them home from the hospital? Give them a little guardian from the start?”

“So you’d rather have the cat first?” For some reason that thrills you - as if it were a validation that the steps you’ve been taking to solidify your relationship ship are working. “We can do that.” You’re practically squeaking at the idea, so it’s fairly obvious that you like it. “Have our first baby be the fur baby?”

“Practice, right?” Marcus laughs. “If we can keep a cat alive, we graduate to a miniature human?”

“That sounds like a good plan to me.” Though you both laugh easily together, you’re practically vibrating with excitement in your seat. “I just think we aren’t home enough for a puppy. And cats are so sweet.”

“Cats are more…independent.” Marcus allows, grinning softly. “Maybe after we get back, we could visit a shelter. See if it’s kitten season? Or maybe even an older, sweet soul who wants a home for their twilight years?”

“We can absolutely start looking around shelters.” It was really just an idea that you were throwing out there - something that made you smile and gave you that feeling of making your house into more of a home. But in true Marcus fashion, he has turned it into something sweet and spectacular. “Although I insist that if we get a kitten, they have a silly name.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus grins, nodding in agreement. “Something that will sound adorable and be completely opposite the personality.”

“Bonus points if it is something will sound completely bizarre being called out at the vet’s office.” It absolutely tickles you that he’s going with you on this, knowing that his childhood dog was innocuously named Buddy. “Something long and elaborate that will be extremely silly when scolding them. We need to get all the comical naming impulses out of us before the kids are born.”

“Mr. Fuzzlesworth.” Marcus tosses out with a grin, enjoying the idea of planning with you. Obviously you would need to get home before choosing a pet, but this is what relationships are about, planning.

“Sir Fuzzbutt de Fluffington.” You nearly double over, giggling at the table. “Although, Mr. Fuzzlesworth kind of sounds like a Dickens character and I love it.”

Marcus chuckles, enchanted by your enthusiasm for this. Hating that the two of you have to break apart when the first course is served. It looks delicious and it's obvious that the waitstaff tries to make this an experience for those who dine with them.

"Cheers." Raising your glass to him when the plates have been set down and the wine has been poured, you have nothing but love in your eyes when you look across the table at Marcus. This is a far more eventful night than just this same time yesterday, and hopefully the food will be just as exquisite - if not even more so. "To us."

"To us." He will never not toast to that. "I think we are getting spoiled with nice dinners." He hums as he taps his glass to yours softly. "How will we go back to eating Thai takeout or Chinese on our couch?"

"Easy." You waggle your eyebrows at him salaciously and lower your voice. "The incentive is that we can do that naked."

"You got me there." Marcus smirks and nods. "That's a good incentive."

The courses are exquisite. Crab, scallops with caviar, langoustine ravioli, cod poached in consommé with fennel. Every plate is like a dance, and it genuinely might be the best meal you've ever had in your entire life. "We're coming back here," you tell Marcus when he groans happily at the chicken course that's been cooked with black truffles and wine you know for sure is too expensive for weeknight drinking. "The first night of our honeymoon, we have to come back."

"I have no objections to that." Marcus takes another bite and closes his eyes in pure bliss. "None."

Hopefully there will be a more sentimental reason to come back to this place on your honeymoon, but you have to keep that close to you for just a little while longer. Instead you just smirk and tilt your head at him. "Although the hotel might be a bit of a stretch. I'm enjoying that for what it's worth on this trip."

"That hotel room is a dream." He rolls his eyes dramatically. "I never get rooms that good on cases. We are stuck in something like a Days Inn. Not that they are bad, but it's not...this."

"Maybe I'm magic?" You tease, knowing that dealing with your former flame on a case isn't exactly magical. But at least it's come with something positive for him. "Like a flashy good luck charm you can keep on your arm."

"I'd keep you in my pocket if I could." He chuckles, winking at you playfully. "But on my arm is okay too. I guess."

"That would be a very big pocket to whole a whole adult person." Although the image is fairly adorable, you'll give him that. "But I'll tell you what. If you ever find one big enough, I'll hop right in."

"You know they make huge pocket blankets for being lazy on a couch all weekend, right?" Marcus grins at you, knowing he will order you one for Christmas now.

"I actually did not know that." You grin at him over the last few bites of this fifth course. "Sounds great for cuddling."

Chuckling softly, Marcus manages to get through the rest of the dinner without giving away that every course makes him even more jittery. Eager to get to the best part of the night in his opinion. Getting to propose to you and show you how much he loves you and wants to make this forever.

The last two courses are sweet - lemon and then chocolate - leaving both you and Marcus feeling more full than you've felt in ages but independently anxious and excited without the other having any clue. If you had known in that moment that you had the very same plan in mind it might have made you laugh or even rethink the occasion to try to surprise the other one all over again. But as it is, when you step out of the restaurant after your sensational dinner, you look up at Marcus and smile softly. "Do you want to see the best view of Paris you'll ever have in your life?"

"You read my mind, baby." Marcus answers with an indulgent smile of his own and he couldn't get closer to you if he tried as he leans in. Wanting to keep the moment as intimate as possible.

"Come here." There is almost no one on the observation deck at this time of night, and you've never been so grateful for coincidences in your entire life. The last two people looking out over the city in this area wander away toward the restaurant to enjoy their dinner as you and Marcus choose a place to stand, and for a moment you're sure that the strangers bolted from the scene because they could hear how hard your heart is beating. Surely if the pounding in your ears is as loud as your heart, then the whole world around you can hear it, too.

"It's a perfect night." Marcus has done this before and yet his heart still beats wildly and he can feel the slight moisture of nerves dampening the shirt under his suit jacket. Coming over to you and taking your hand gently as he turns to make a show of looking out over the city of Paris under the gorgeously full moon.

"It's the perfect view." Paris is secondary to everything, right now, although it's the perfect backdrop for what you're about to do. While Marcus is looking out over the city, and despite how hard you're shaking, you manage to hold his hand while carefully extracting the ring box from your purse and exhaling deeply. Kneeling down in heels is an exacting task, but your dress cooperates, and you manage to not make a sound as you do.

Sighing softly, Marcus knows that this is the moment. Sure there have been thousands of proposals right here, or on the ground below, but he wants to add one more. “I need to ask you some—” Turning, Marcus stops mid word when he sees you kneeling in front of him. “—thing. What—” he can’t even ask you what is going on, eyes wide and focused on you and the small box in your hand.

"Here's the thing, Marc." You're already on the verge of tears as soon as you open your mouth, but that's okay. This is the first time you've ever done this and hopefully it will be the last, and Marcus knows that feeling all too well. "I know this is...nontraditional. And you're a traditionalist in a lot of ways. But I need to ask you something. Because for ten years, anytime something big happened in my life, the first thing I wanted to do was call you. Whenever something bad happened, I wanted to find the doorstep of whatever house you were living in and make sure that you were okay. I thought about you every single day that we were apart, and now that we're together again I just can't..." you sniffle, breaking out into a smile at the overwhelming joy in your heart. "I can't help but be excited that I won't have to call you if something good happens. Or worry about you when something goes wrong as things inevitably do in life. Because you’ll be right there with me. I love you more than anything or anyone in the world, Marcus Pike. And there is nothing more that I want than to come home to you. To share our joys and sorrows with each other and to build the life of our dreams together." The little box in your hand is slightly damp with the nervous sweat from your palm but neither of you notice, too focused on the way the lid snaps back to reveal the stunning rung that you picked out just yesterday. "Would you do me the immense honour of marrying me again?"

He stares for a moment, the shock and warmth of you proposing to him curling into his chest and making his heart burst. Choking out a laugh, a happy one, Marcus hits his knees in front of you, staring at the little blue box that he certainly recognizes. “I— can’t— of course I’m going to marry you again.” He manages, reaching for your hand and digging into his jacket pocket with the other to pull out an identical box.

With both of you crying and laughing you would have looked slightly hysterical to anyone around, but you lean forward to kiss Marcus as he digs in his jacket. Nothing else matters except the fact that he said yes, and for a moment everything in the world stands perfectly still. It isn't until you pull away again that you see him holding an identical Tiffany ring box and you burst out into another round of sobbing giggles. "Of course we both did," you laugh, pulling the platinum band out of the box in your hand to hold out to him. "Can I, love?"

“Yes.” He can’t help the giddy, bubbly laugh that rumbles out of his chest. Watching as you start to slide the band on his finger. “I can’t believe this is what you were buying yesterday.”

"You didn't buy the 'lunch with Angie' story, huh?" The ring fits him perfectly and you can't help but stare at it a little. The last time you put a ring on his finger was years ago, and as wonderful as your first wedding was, this feels so incredibly right tonight.

“I saw you.” Marcus admits with a grin, his thumb rubbing the underside of the band. “I had decided to look for your new ring.”

"You saw us?" It takes a second to refocus, but your eyes flick up to his and you reach to wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah. I thought you were looking at something like a necklace or whatever.” He admits. “The associate kept bringing me rings so I didn’t have to turn around in case you saw me.”

"I was too focused. Although, the store manager now knows our entire love story." You lay kisses on both of his cheeks before you look down again, seeing the ring he's holding out to you in that same, now familiar, blue box. "Marc." The gasp that escapes you almost takes all of your breath with it. "Honey, it's absolutely gorgeous."

“I still have your other rings.” Of course he does and he’s pretty sure you know that too. “But I wanted to give you a new one, one for our new beginning.”

"Your parents will love this." As he slips that new ring onto your finger, it feels like your sense of balance has been missing that fine tuning for years. Without Marc's ring on your finger, you've been missing something this whole time. "I love you so much, baby. So much. And I can't wait to have our cat and our kids and our life full of dreams."

Marcus’s smile is full of all the love he has to give you. Bringing your hand up to press a soft kiss to the skin just above the new symbol of his commitment to you. “And tequila.” He adds, smirking at you as he reaches out to cup your face and draw you in for another kiss. “We can’t forget the tequila.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

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[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #18

[masterlist] [part two]

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If there was one thing Danny wasn't expecting when he ascended the ghostly throne, it was having to worry about a freaking line of succession. For one thing, he was under the impression the only reason he was the new ghost king at all was because he'd defeated Pariah Dark in single combat. For another, what did they expect him to do, find a nice ghost girl and settle down? He was fifteen, no way was he ready for that kind of commitment! Nevermind the fact none of us even know if being a halfa effects the ability to have kids, Danny thought grimly.

He'd brought all those points up with his advisors before, but the only one with any real advice he could actually use was Pandora. "You need an heir, but it doesn't have to be the same being the entire time. Be warned, however. Some obsessions fare better in royal positions than others do. Those with freedom related obsessions like your Ellie's would be driven mad within short order." Much more useful than Clockwork's cryptic words of, "Time is the wise King's friend."

After some deliberation and careful study of the Infinite Realms' bylaws and charters, he'd made Jazz his heir with Ellie the "spare" in case Jazz wasn't in a position to succeed Danny. This sort of solution was a stopgap one at best, but it would at least give him a few years, a decade at most, to figure out a more permanent solution. If Jazz's inherent liminality wasn't enough to satisfy the bylaws for more than a few years, then they'd switch Jazz with Ellie and have Ember take up "spare" status, but again, no one knew anything about this kind of situation, it was so new territory. Jazz might be able to give Danny ten years to figure out a more appropriate heir, or she won't be able to give him more than a few months. The variables were different enough from the norm in this situation that no one was happy with how things were at that point in time.

He really needed a better solution, though, and soon, because Ember's obsession wasn't any less freedom based than Ellie's was...

=============‹«⟨··•|^^^|•··⟩»›=============

Nearly five years after Danny's ascension to kinghood, the foundations of the Infinite Realms shifted ever so slightly, almost as though a mostly unstoppable force had tried its hand against an almost immovable object. Six months after that, Danny suddenly nearly collapsed in his applied physics class as he felt the creation of a new halfa. It was sudden, it was painful, and it was familiar. But the cry of a newly formed core, so perfectly in sync with his own, being brutalized nearly made his eyes flare green. Instantly, he knew exactly where this newborn halfa was (—halfway across the world—?), he knew exactly what was happening to them (—they're hitting him with tasers—!), and he knew that if he didn't get there as soon as possible, he'd lose something precious (—they'll ruin him, his obsession, his core—!). It was a good thing Jazz had been his emergency contact on file ever since she turned eighteen, she'd understand what he didn't say, what he couldn't say, over the phone.

Danny was excused from the rest of his classes for the day and his sister picked him up from his physics teacher's office.

"What do you need?" No nonsense, straight to the point. Jazz had grown a lot since his accident, since he became the king of an entire dimension.

Danny released an anxious breath. "I need the Infinity Map." Another breath. "And Frostbite. There's a new halfa, and he's being tortured as we speak." Just keep breathing. "His core cried out to my own, Jazz. From halfway across the world." Jazz's breath hitched at that, and he almost snorted. Exactly. Later. First, he had to save the kid, get him treatment, and deal with the idiots who dared play with things they didn't understand. Then he could deal with the fallout of him hearing the newborn halfa's cry. Deep breaths. That's it, just keep breathing.

"Do you have any more information than his location and current situation?" His sister was a blessing, truly.

"I have a name," he offered. Deep breaths, stay calm, just keep breathing. "Jason Todd." His core sang with protective fury, his obsession crying for blood. That was one of his that those assassins were trying to break. His son, that was his son.

Over my half dead body.

=============‹«⟨··•|^^^|•··⟩»›=============

So. What happens when you're so into a fanfic that you lose all track of time? Well, I end up frantically trying to write a ficlet in two hours that makes sense and doesn't leave too much hanging (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞdid I succeed?

I was originally going to use this prompt to continue one of my previous ficlets, but I also really wanted to write something new, so my muse fought me tooth and nail until I finally gave in (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) that's part of the reason why I'm writing ficlets instead of a full story this month lol I knew my muse was going to be fickle and wouldn't let me stick with one, or even two storylines lol it's happened before (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

Y'all rock, honestly. Like, I know I say that every day, but I genuinely mean it every day (^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Have a good morning/day/night!

[interrogatormentors]

BOOK 2, EVENT 4: CORNER CAMPED

Over the next few weeks, a schedule established itself. Early in the night Aradia or Karkat would drop by, armed with the same stories and food as usual but with far more energy. The food evolved from food that was easy to feed to Sollux to food that had more substance, and it felt almost nice to sink his teeth into something. The cuffs were adjusted to be back in front of Sollux as well. When Sollux went a whole week without trying to harm himself or throttle someone else his arms were unchained, leaving only the psionic dampeners behind. All the cutlery they gave him were filed into little nubs, but even still Sollux stowed a rounded fork in the mattress of his sleeping platform out of habit.

One night Karkat sat with him, reading on his tablet and muttering under his breath while Sollux silently ate some nondescript nutrition cubes that almost smelled of meat. Karkat glanced up as Sollux fumbled his fork just a little bit, looking longer with his brows twitching. “What?” Sollux asked, readjusting his grip.

“You never used to eat with your left hand,” Karkat said, cocking his head to the side. “Or was that yet another factoid that escaped you in the frantic flagellation you were subjected to that twisted you fucking asunder into the horrible meat-pretzel you are now? I’ll save us both the indignity of you saying you’re ambidextrous with your lisping nightmare mouth despite how downright fucking barren the fields have been of such delightful misery, because I still had ganderbulbs, even in that moment, you clearly had a fucking favorite. I still recall it with all the fondness of a grub being dangled over the infinite abyss to Serket’s shitty fucking lusus, how often you would eat with the right hand so you could make stupid jerk-off motions with the left as you levitated my fucking dinner over my head to watch me squall. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t decided on a repeat performance for the nostalgia factor. Do they try and flay you for having habits or some other fucking shit, or would you like to enlighten the schoolfeeding gallery as to the reason for your steadfast refusal to indulge the alternate grip?”

Sollux didn’t respond immediately, the stronger habit of keeping quiet about weaknesses reigning victorious. Finally he switched the hand he was eating with, stabbed a cube of nearly-meat product, and lifted it to his lips. His shoulder made an audible clicking noise as it almost popped out of its socket from the rotation, and his eyelid twitched a bit from the dull ache that resulted. Karkat flinched and grimaced.

“What the hell was that?” Karkat’s tone did not sound like he didn’t know, but rather wanted a denial of the truth that appeared to be swimming in his eyes.

“Dislocated my shoulder getting out of the cuffs in the first place when I got here,” Sollux said, shrugging. His left shoulder went higher than his right despite himself, and he felt a thrill in his stomach that never quite faded even when Karkat didn’t punish him for the moment of visible weakness.

“And you… it hasn't healed. It hasn't healed, and we’ve still been putting strain on it this whole fucking time,” Karkat said, voice slow and rising a bit in pitch with each word. “Of all the... you. YOU! You. The words have completely vacated whatever remaining presence of a thinkpan I yet possess between my constantly besieged fucking auricular spongeclots from your sheer–! YOU! You could have fucking said something, I would have—!”

“No, you couldn’t have,” Sollux said, interrupting Karkat’s valiant attempt to pantomime choking him without flinging his tablet into the imminent abyss. He traded his fork back to his left hand and polished off the rest of his meal. “You needed my hands behind me. Otherwise I would have attacked you, or kept trying to chew my arm off. The pain kept me grounded anyway.”

Karkat’s eyelid proceeded to twitch. “We’re not doing that anymore. I get it, you were never good with expressing things like basic fucking necessities, and your aforementioned meat-pretzel twisting has nigh irrevocably fucked that even harder in the auricular spongeclot to the point of dealing fucking pan damage.” He looked down at his tablet with a sour expression. “I’ll see what pain medication we can spare before you can even begin to start uttering any putrid self-loathing bile about how you don’t need it or whatever bulgerotted shit strikes your fancy at this moment, because funnily enough, pain is a message that should not be fucking ignored when attempting to markedly improve your quality of life from the literal dredges it has been to this point! There’s a legitimate fucking reason for its presence on your sensory radar and let me fucking tell you that the reason, just in case you needed it spelled out, is ‘whoopsie- fucking -doodle, something’s gone splendidly fucking wrong, in fact it has gone to utter shit, and your literal, only chance at withstanding the disintegration worthy of a paper cup holding your old standby of vomit-worthy energy drinks is to fucking fix it’ .”

“Your supplies are low, don’t bother,” Sollux said. He kept talking, explaining when Karkat froze a little. “Context clues. You got mad at your screen while talking about meds and we’re not planetside. The air doesn’t have enough smells or proper dirt for that. I thought it was, but it’s just an asteroid, isn’t it?”

Karkat pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did they manage to enable you to be even more of an obnoxious windbag? I’m lost for fucking words once again, you have achieved the im-fucking-possible. I’m not going to deign you with the luxury of confirming or denying whether you’re fucking right–”

“I am.”

“Aaaaand if you will let me experience the luxury of speaking for ten fucking second without trying fulfill your quota of being a fucking know-it-all pettiness machine of epic fucking proportions...” Karkat said, glowering. He paused, pointing at Sollux, who shrugged again. Karkat inhaled, rubbing at his eye before continuing. “...you would know that if you’re not going to take the fucking pain medication, I’ll look into getting you some form of alternative treatment, despite how absolutely and completely the mere thought of you bypassing such treatment rends my goddamn bloodpusher. Something like... fuck, time in the exercise room on your own? We let people book it by themselves sometimes, mostly because no one wants to slip on the fucking mats while Zahhak turns it into a greasy swimming pool akin to the shit you’d find in the back of simply the most grotesque GrubDonalds.” He shuddered. “Would you be willing to be normal for two fucking seconds for the purpose of doing your own physical therapy here? See, I even specified two seconds. Your favourite.”

“Sure.” Sollux set his empty plate off to his side. “Will everyone else be normal about me being out and about?”

“Much like you strive to fail to be on a nightly basis, of course they won’t be fucking normal. I’m not about to fucking lie,” Karkat said. He pulled a face, shutting off his tablet and stowing it away. “The most prevalent opinion among the ill-behaved rabble that we must constantly corral, less we wind up entrenched in grub shit, is that you should have been put down like a malformed grublet that just barely eked its way out of its trials, same as the... Whatever. But I’ve got the loudest fucking voice out of all these senseless fuckers and I’m not afraid to put their spongeclots out of fucking hearth and hive, so I make the goddamn rules when it comes to you, so fucking help me god .”

“I’m touched,” Sollux deadpanned. “You’re not leader, then?”

“Shut up. I’m a fucking saint is what I am. I’m a glorified fucking grubsitter somehow simultaneously worthy and unworthy of the Signless his-fucking-self and no one is allowed to fucking forget it.” He didn’t answer Sollux’s question, which led him to believe that someone else Sollux knew was in charge. Feferi, maybe? Karkat didn’t seem annoyed enough for anyone else. 

Karkat stood up, grabbing Sollux’s plate off the sleeping platform. He kept to Sollux’s right rather than his left now, for all he said that he trusted Sollux’s intention not to harm him anymore. “You won’t be on your own, anyways.”

“Hooray. Are you going to get me a sparkly collar to match the leash you put me on?”

“ Gross. Don’t be a brat.”

“That’s what the collar’s for.”

“No.” Karkat pointed at Sollux, “Not even if you ask and promise to call me daddy if I call you a good boy. Not a chance in even the Grand Highblood’s most gory of halls.” He almost smiled, but bared his teeth instead. The way his face brightened, however, the corners of his eyes folding into neglected laugh lines, appeared before Sollux’s vision every time he blinked for almost an hour after Karkat left.

Excursions to the exercise room were uneventful at best, for the most part. Karkat blocked out an hour for Sollux every other day, and getting out of the cell left Sollux intoxicated. He couldn’t focus the first few times, but Karkat standing vigil outside the block meant no one harassed Sollux as he stood motionless in front of a punching bag with his forehead pressed to the vinyl.

He couldn’t avoid people forever. Footsteps now traipsed past Sollux’s door occasionally, and he heard voices. Most he didn’t know, although the occasional tapping of a cane or the swish of skirts had something melting in the back of his pan. They remained anonymous however, and this carried over to the trolls he saw pass by him and Karkat on the short commute to the exercise block. All stopped when they saw Sollux, at least at first, immediately on razor’s edge from Sollux’s gait despite the return of his slouch and his undercut finally grewing out and flaring out in an unruly mess of hair. No one spoke, although they whispered, and Karkat’s needling gaze kept it that way.

The routine comforted Sollux, and his world shattered when Karkat didn’t arrive at his door on time one night. Sollux started pacing five minutes after the usual time, and after the five stretched into ten and twenty and eventually into an hour he found the room spinning round him. What had happened? There couldn’t have been an attack–he’d heard an alarm go off once before for something that Karkat dismissed as a routine blackout due to a passing cruiser but none this time. Had someone waylaid him? Had someone gotten close, someone Karkat trusted just enough, and left him bleeding in some abandoned hall? Was it Gamzee? The duplicitous bastard had proven to fool interrogatormentors–could he have triple-crossed the line? Serket he’d heard tapping her arm impatiently in an 8-beat-staccato, complaining about needing to keep quiet near his door. Probably her. It couldn’t be Eridan, ensconced as he was in the Empress’ nook the last he’d checked the tabloids. A rebellion was beneath his notice. The walls leaned in towards Sollux, silent and unyielding and leaving him exposed and alone with his thoughts.

Finally Sollux crammed himself under the miniscule amount of room underneath the sleeping platform just so he could think, limbs pretzeled and crammed up close. Dread filled Sollux’s stomach, a deep sense of wrongness he’d only felt when Rapard pushed him to the brink of frozen, or the time so much water had been forced into him that his kidneys had threatened to shut down, or when Rosmer had tested another batch of his poisons on him before graduation and gleefully recounted what organs would be safe to harvest if Sollux hadn’t pulled through. Sollux tangled the fingers of one hand into his hair, nails that Karkat kept clipped digging into his scalp as his digits shook from the force. He bit down on his other hand, hard, but the impending feeling of personal doom still left him shuddering. The only blessing of the psionic cuffs was that they blocked the usual chorus of the imminently doomed that usually filled Sollux’s waking world. Without the voices the doom shifted to calm, coelscing into the crystaliizing realization that he was going to die and no one would miss him and leaving his limbs sparkling and light.

The door opened, and Karkat’s voice filled the room. “—god, nookhuffing, bulgechafing pieces of fucking shit, the whole fucking lot of them, just toss out the whole fucking consortium out the god-fucking-damned airlock in one merry go with a chipper fucking ‘by your leave’ to top off the clusterfuck sandwich, I swear to fucking—I am so fucking sorry I’m late, Sollux, I had to fight my way out of another fucking meeting to the point that I almost yanked out fucking ganderbulbs, and I had already fucking told…” Karkat trailed off, one foot that Sollux could see stepping back behind the threshold of the room. “...Sollux?”

Sollux tried to speak several times, but all that he could manage was a strangled rasp. Immediately Karkat dropped to his knees, red eyes wide. “Oh fucking hell. Shit. Panrotted spawn of the Gl’bgolyb her-fucking-self, you fucking scared me to all fuck, Captor. What happened?  No one else has the key to this place beside Megido and through hell and high fucking water will anyone ever get access beyond that.”

Another few tries and Sollux at last croaked, “Late. Thought. I.” He stammered a few more times, and when it didn’t stop he tried biting his hand again. Karkat’s hand flew out, catching him by the wrist.

“Stop,” Karkat said. His voice cracked a bit. “Okay? Don’t. You don’t need to do that. Seeing gold staining that much everywhere makes my fucking bloodpusher hike up seven degrees closer to a fucking infarction, Sollux, come on .” He tugged at Sollux’s wrist, just a little, and having a direction had Sollux scrambling out from underneath the platform with all the grace of a spider sent through a wind tunnel. Karkat kept holding onto him, catching Sollux as he fell forward into his chest. 

“Helps. Me focus,” Sollux said. He stared forward at nothing, head bowed against Karkat’s chest. “I thought something happened.”

“And they said I was wrong for worrying about being late. I was wrong. They called me mad! And maybe I am mad, yeah, I’m fucking pissed and I’m ready to tear out some more throats with my nubby file I call teeth, because this is exhibit fucking A front and fucking center, as to why all the others can choke down the Condesce’s meter-long nightmare bulge when it comes to trying to dictate and nitpick my carefully planned agenda for your betterment,” Karkat said. He wrapped his arms around Sollux, and his voice rattled with something that Sollux couldn’t tell was a growl or a purr. Either option had the roiling emotions in Sollux solidifying into jagged edges twisting through his gut. “I should have tried harder to be on time, or tried to find a way to let you know.”

“Not your fault.” Sollux’s hand twitched as he automatically tried to bring it to his mouth again to bite at whatever skin he could reach, but Karkat kept his arm down at his waist. “A meeting. You said it was a meeting. You don’t have meetings at this hour but it was an emergency. It doesn’t matter–I’m just a… Hiccup in already-made plans.” 

His thinking started to spiral again into dizzying tunnels of possibility. Karkat seemed annoyed at most, not stressed. It wasn’t a security breach or an invasion, but it was important enough to warrant a meeting. He’d clearly not thought it was important enough to want to stay if he was so out of breath and hastening back to Sollux, so that meant it was an issue that Karkat didn’t usually deal with. Karkat seemed to deal with personnel, sure, but other than that Sollux wasn’t quite sure what he did. It seemed wrong not knowing what had so altered his schedule, the consistency and break thereof meaning something was terribly wrong. He had to solve the problem to right the order of things, what little he had control over.

Karkat smacked his face then, quite hard, something that jostled Sollux right out of one tunnel of thought into another. He blinked rapidly, and Karkat huffed. “Fucking look at me and quit your fucking doomspiral shit.” He took a ragged breath, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Right. Yes. Even though it was an emergency meeting, I don’t care if you say it doesn’t matter, I fucked up in allowing the swill-brained lot of our co-conspirators to waylay me this fucking egregiously. You are important, Captor, so important to me that I didn’t stop bleeding out the fucking pusher in despair until I saw the slivers of you coming back to yourself–to me– where they fucking belong. I’m not always going to be around, it’d be moronic to pretend anything but, but I’m also not going to let you claw yourself open like some neurotic lusus at the end of its fucking shelf life. Even if I were actually dead as a goddamned doornail, I’d come back from pure rage alone to keep you from any degree of self-mutilation. So tell me what I can do to help you at this moment.”

“Slap me again?”

“No. That suggestion goes back right to the corner of fuck and no. I panicked in what was the most mortifying display of freshblood nerves that I should’ve been fucking over at this point, and you’re not going to get another free show of my legendary war-ending paphand.”

“Was that what it was?”

Karkat opened his mouth, and then went fully red in the face. He inhaled and then let out a noise like a temperamental tea kettle. “No! Don’t take me out of context. It’s your prime fucking skill but I will not allow such fucking slander to bedraggle my hard-fought grizzled reputation.”

“I just asked for context, and you failed. You’re caught like a fucking pale harlot exposing his wristbones to the masses.”

“Sometimes I wish I had allowed those fuckers to have you gagged,” Karkat said, groaning, some tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

“And give me more fuel to fan the flames? You’re an easy enough target as it is.” Despite himself, Sollux felt the tension draining out of him, although his heartbeat still pounded in his ears as Karkat made another choked up, thinly muffled scream. “I’ll make all sorts of noises that’ll embarrass both of us.” He shook his head to try and clear it to no avail.

“Do not keep doing this to me. You know I am weak for trashy romcoms and that shit is like the prime fucking subject of pale pornos that one can only fucking dream about experiencing when they’ve got the most wretchedly bright swill for blood like I do, but... fuck okay, whatever .” Karkat let out a sigh, but let go of Sollux’s hand now that Sollux wasn’t actively resisting to try and get at himself. “I can ask about giving you some freedoms so you’re not trapped in here when I’m not immediately available. I’ll go full rebellion babysitter and write you up a formal-ass schedule for you to follow and everything, if that’s what gets your shit to settle solid-style at the bottom of this goddamned basin. Go anywhere out of your scheduled areas and times, and I’ll fucking roundhouse kick you, just for the incentive to follow the rules and because these morons all squawk about fairness like fair has anything to do with the treatment you experienced at the hands of the Empire. Hell, if anyone fucking bothers you it’s a boot to the head for them too, with extra Zahhak grease as the ultimate fucking deterrent.”

“I can defend myself. You can’t just threaten to roundhouse kick everything. You’re not flexible enough anyways. I’d give you hitting everything with your shin at best.”

“I can and I will, you don’t know how much I’ve worked on my fucking flexibility nowadays, I’m spryer than I’ve ever been and I don’t even have a single idea when this meatsack hits its expiration date,” Karkat said. He huffed, folding his arms with his tablet to his chest, stepping back and leaning against the wall. “As if you could do any better without your psionics, anyway.”

Without much thought apart from needing to defend his pride Sollux immediately shifted his weight to one leg, the other leg sliding back to give him the momentum he needed. He twisted, throwing a roundhouse kick off his back leg to lightly tap and pin Karkat to the wall by the ball of his foot to Karkat’s breastbone. The redness to Karkat’s face didn’t fade, but his eyes had gotten a bit wider. A little fear lurked behind those glassy eyes, though he tried his best to temper it.

The lights flashed into a strobe a few times, and Sollux scrambled back as Karkat waved a middle finger at the camera in the middle of the room. “You are all fucking pansies, absolute fucking wet blankets, you put Zahhak’s towels to fucking shame for limpidness and wetness! We’re good! It’s fine!” Karkat shouted up at the camera, and while the sprinklers overhead did click a few times there was no ice-shower to deter Sollux’s attack. Karkat rounded on Sollux, pointing at him with his middle finger. His other hand patted at his leg for something that wasn’t there. “We’re fine, right? I swear to all fuck, if this is the night I forgot my fucking taser that you decide to pull your goddamn last stand because your miniscule bean got freaked, then I fucking deserve to have my ass royally fucking handed to me. But for all our sakes in the grisly equation, I hope it fucking isn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have had time to grab the taser if I meant it,” Sollux said. He rubbed at his eyes, sitting back on the sleeping platform. “You didn’t reach for it anyway until after things had calmed down.”

“Because… I knew in my pusher of pushers you were just being a shit,” Karkat said, the last part of his sentence more a sigh than anything as his shoulders sagged. “Man, I really do miss that. Isn’t that pathetic? My pusher once again left bleeding at the sight of the wiry piece of shit I so enjoyed antagonizing at my own personal peril. I wish I could tackle you headlong and grind your nose into the ground like a poorly trained woofbeast after pulling that stunt. You’re... way bendier than you used to be.”

“My body’s supposed to be a weapon no matter what tools I have at my disposal,” Sollux said. Karkat rolled his eyes but let him keep talking. “I wish you could beat the shit out of me too, KK, even though you’re too short to be able to reach my face.”

Karkat yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. From there the rest of the visit passed as normal. They didn’t have time to go to the training block, but Karkat pointed out that if Sollux’s walkaround privileges were approved, he could go as many times as he wanted to make up for it.

It took a few weeks, but eventually Sollux was granted the freedom to walk around on his own. It took even longer for Sollux to exercise said privileges, so loathe was he to break the already established routine that he’d fallen into. He liked only seeing Aradia and Karkat. Still at times he considered going to the dining hall for extra food, the idea of eating at his own leisure a fascinating novelty. He made it to the door before he bailed, once glance through the window at the scattering of trolls eating and relaxing too much to handle.

He satisfied himself with walking, mostly, wandering in large circuits that meandered through the halls. He walked when he couldn’t sleep or when his mind got too crowded with panic or intrusive thoughts, when Karkat and Aradia both were too busy or presumably asleep themselves. The halls were uniform and utilitarian with no alcoves to nestle in, so when he got tired of walking he would simply lay on the ground to stare at a different ceiling. A familiar ceiling, exactly the same as his cell but different, just different enough that he could coax himself into new habits.

He went to the exercise room on his own, even outside the times that Karkat had reserved for him. All that changed was that he had to actually use the sign-in sheet to show he’d used the equipment, which everyone had to do anyway. Karkat had everyone on red alert for him trying to elicit pain responses from himself, so exercise was the closest he could get without raising those flags. Feeling emotion and memory crowd his pan hurt, and he longed for numbness. Pain sparked at his brain and drowned everything out, a dull roar that demanded attention with emotions falling by the wayside. It didn’t help that being out on his own had people staring, and sometimes Sollux would feel the prickling on the back of his neck as if someone were watching him. No one was ever there when he looked, and so the stressors continued to mount and his time spent in the exercise room increased. Even if it was to hit his knuckles on a punching bag until his knuckles bled, that feeling meant he wasn’t constantly checking over his shoulder.

Sometimes people were in the exercise room when Sollux poked his head in there, and he opted to leave rather than be around them in an exhausted or otherwise vulnerable state. One night however a duo entered after he was in the middle of his routine. The pair hesitated signing in but went to their own corner, and while they kept shooting glances they said nothing to him. The threat of leaving a routine unfinished kept Sollux in place as well, and he left without a word once he was finished. 

A wrinkle in Sollux’s routine again in the form of a name on the crumpled sign-in sheet. V. Pozoia sat in the 12:30 slot, wedged between a G. Riarra and T. Gohgoh as if it had any right to be there. Sollux’s lungs filled with water as he stared at the name, scrawled with an unsteady hand but unmistakably in its spelling and its syllables. He’d chanted out affirmatives and negatives alongside that name, acknowledgement to the instructor that had drilled rigor and routine into him in an exercise room far bigger at this one, but never big enough to escape the smell of Ualona’s corpse for weeks after his death. Pozoia had made his life hell before disappearing alongside his partner under rumors that their cruiser had run into the rebellion. 

Sollux tore the sign-in sheet from the wall, and took it back with him to his block. He stowed it underneath his mattress alongside his blunted fork. He didn’t dare look at it again until Aradia’s visit at the tail end of the night, when the overhead lights dimmed to be replaced by the dull red daylights.

Sollux scanned the list over again in the day, back to the camera. G. Riarra was written in the same pen as Pozoia’s, and wasn’t the one still attached to the wall in the exercise room by a fraying line. Their writing was neatly placed right underneath Pozoia’s, but not so crammed that he was leaving space on the page for a third person. T. Gohgoh had used the assigned pen and their writing was pressed up under Riarra to avoid running out of room on the page. They probably didn’t all come together, but Riarra knew Pozoia enough to loan him his pen. They were the last group to be in the room as well, considering none of them had bothered to flip the page over. Sollux turned the page and the scent of bile and antiseptic, coupled with the feeling of electricity burning the tips of his fingers. K. Juyure. 

Sollux flung the list away from him as if his limbs were electrified, fingers clawing into his hair. The papers plopped unceremoniously on the ground, names glaring up at him in a way that had his flesh crawling over itself. It was paper, just paper, not a tablet electrifying him for a wrong answer as he failed to properly identify ruined organs from a training interrogation. Sollux inhaled once before ducking his head, continuing to hold his breath even when his lungs started screaming for air. When unconsciousness threatened him Sollux allowed himself to breathe, coughing and shuddering but with his head a little clearer.

He reached back down, carefully picking up the paper. Juyure had no signatures next to their name, and used the same pen as Pozoia and Riarra, which had Sollux flipping between the two troublesome pages with a frown. Riarra was clearly Pozoia’s escort. While Pozoia’s writing had been a scrawl there was a heaviness to how the pen had laid on the page, and even when the letters wavered they followed a strict line. For some reason Pozoia had trouble controlling his hand these days, and Riarra had steadied it. Juyure’s writing was messier than Pozoia’s. Sollux leaned in. The writing was different, lighter on the pen, and there were smudges on the letters that indicated it had been written with the left hand. Juyure had been right-handed, and the e in their name had the same loop to it as Pozoia’s a.

To confirm his suspicions Sollux went back to the other pages on the sign-in sheet. They’d always been separated by a flood of names and pages, but Sollux spotted a trend–an hour or so after he signed in, Riarra would. Why was Pozoia signing in now, and doing so when he had an escort? Karkat usually was the one that signed when they went together to obsfucate Sollux’s name and lessen attention on him, and it seemed as if up until this point Riarra took the same responsibility for Pozoia.

The conclusion had Sollux’s stomach rolling. Pozoia was getting assigned time in the exercise block as well, probably for similar reasons as to why Sollux himself was going. He wasn’t trusted enough to be on his own, which made sense as he’d been an instructor nookdeep in the Empire’s propaganda machine. Just as Sollux followed a schedule, so did he. It could be coincidence, but then why make a point of signing in when he didn’t need to? He’d noticed, and was trying to get under Sollux’s skin, and was supposedly reformed enough to get exercise block privileges. Either he didn’t believe that Sollux was deprogrammed, or Pozoia himself was well aware of that fact and Pozoia’s continued loyalty to the Empire meant the rebellion was in danger. When Sollux had failed to show up at his usual time today, Pozoia upped the stakes to grab Sollux’s notice with his name and then Juyure’s name as the clincher.

Sollux got up, picking up the list off the ground. These days he caught himself wishing he could turn off the interrogatormentor part of his thinkpan, as useful as it was to be able to puzzle things out from minor details. He couldn’t think right now. He needed to return this list, first off. Someone had probably noticed it was missing, and if anyone cared enough to check the cameras they’d probably crack down on his head. His breath rasped through his lungs but he forced himself to shove the list back underneath his mattress next to his utensil contraband. He could return that in the evening. He had a strict allotment of time he was allowed to wander, and this time wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t return the list right away, but if he went during his normal hours no one would think anything of it. He flopped back onto the reclining platform, and despite the sopor patch given to him each night his dreams were haunted with an echo of someone drowning.

The moment that his schedule permitted him freedom to move, Sollux beelined for the exercise room. He still couldn’t help the habit of going at 11, since breaking away from his schedule had resulted in Pozoia’s name appearing in the first place. He ran on panicked autopilot flying without a plan, but he made it to the block unmolested. He attempted to hang the list back on the wall by its fading tape, and it slid down with a pathetic fluttering like a dying featherbeast. He whacked the list on the wall, smacking it as if to cow the tape into submission. 

“Do you require assistance?”

Sollux whipped around, fists automatically raising up to protect his face. The yellowblood behind him who’d spoken didn’t so much as flinch at the sight of a defensive interrogatormentor, instead smiling blandly. He waved a hand adorned in a smattering of dull gray rings, rattling against each other. “No need to worry so, friend.”

The other troll took the paper away from Sollux. No fear registered on his face, nor hesitation, although there was a calculated caution that had him never quite turning his back to Sollux. “My sincerest apologies for startling you. You would think I would have known better by now. In the face of everything, you interrogatormentors remain... Uncomfortably alert.” He let out a lilting laugh as he fished around by the door, putting aside various faded pens until he found new tape to fix the list.

Know better by now. Ophlia was getting watched by Trisia, she had to be, to try and snap her back to reality by familiarity. He still hadn’t seen so much as her shadow pass his door, heard no echo of her eerily quiet footsteps as her boots made contact with the ground. Who else then would deal so closely with interrogatormentors to not blanch when one jumped? “It’s fine, Riarra,” Sollux said.

The other troll’s eyebrow quirked up just a bit, but his expression remained mostly unreadable, set in that soft smile. “Ah. I am humbled, as it appears my reputation precedes me.” He didn’t offer any explanation or question that could open himself up to Sollux gathering information. This definitely was someone that had been dealing with an interrogatormentor, probably ever since Pozoia had dropped off the map in the first place.

Sollux didn’t offer Riarra anything in return, choosing to only stare at him. His breathing felt restricted, something heavy and malicious compressing his ribs. Riarra met his gaze with a smile that didn’t reach heavy-lidded eyes, lashes weighing them down with some deep exhaustion Sollux couldn’t place. Finally Riarra’s expression re-settled onto his shut-eyed smile, folding his hands in front of himself and offering a little bow. “It was good to finally meet you in person, Sollux Captor. But I think it is best for all of us that we keep our interactions to a minimum. I am certain you understand.”

Sollux didn’t respond and so Golese turned, pretending to fiddle with the sign-up sheet again while Sollux stayed stock-still like a prey animal trying to remember it had teeth. Sollux retreated further back in the room, picking up a dumbbell, and even from over here he caught the way that Golese pulled a heavy ring from his pocket and slid it to a blank spot in between calluses on his fingers under the guise of smoothing out the wrinkles of the sheet before him. A heaviness to the air settled, a subtle buzz of psionic ozone causing the doomed voices muffled by the psionic cuff on Sollux’s wrist to let out a collective sigh to break up their usual mourning keen. The pressure on Sollux’s chest lightened. No wonder the other yellowblood felt confident enough to turn his back on an interrogatormentor now that Sollux had willingly created distance–his psionics were powerful enough to rival Sollux’s own to the point he willingly wore dampener rings.

The other troll lingered even after Sollux began his set, reinforcing the sheet on the wall beyond its usual single strip of tape at the top. Each bubble and ripple in the tape was adjusted and smoothed out to the point of redundancy, and when Golese could hover for no longer around the sheet he moved to the case of cooled drinks. Sollux watched out of the corner of his eye as Golese hummed tunelessly, organizing the bottles to push those with flavors to the front while the plain waters were pushed off to the side. A pause, and then Golese rearranged the entire case. His ears were lopsided, one still angled towards while the other kept his head tilted towards the door. Every motion equated to busywork, paused only when footsteps passed by the exercise room’s door. The door had a small window set into it so other trolls could glance in to see if the room was occupied, but Golese blocked Sollux’s view through it. All he caught were unfamiliar shadows.

Sollux finished his usual lifting set and placed the dumbbells down. He moved to another bit of equipment, and a few seconds after he moved position so did Golese. As Sollux began the next part of his workout Golese began refolding a frankly ludicrous amount of towels, tucking the corners tightly so that more could fit on the shelf without crowding. The drink cases had kept Golese in front of the door, blocking Sollux from the entrance, but now that Sollux had moved the towels now served as the best station to maintain that placement. His back still faced Sollux for the most part, which baffled Sollux. The main threat was in the room, not outside of it, so why would Golese watch and block him from the door?

Only so many configurations could be made with folded towels however, and eventually Golese’s body language shifted to something more readable. His shoulders tensed up as he stood, and he cast Sollux one last sideways glance before offering him a little bow. “Don’t tire yourself too much, Sollux Captor,” he said. His voice, barely a whisper, still carried across the room. He opened his mouth as if to say something more and then left the room in a hasty sweep of hair and fabric.

Sollux took the posture and words as a warning and stood the moment that Golese left, standing with one hand on the previous piece of equipment as he listened hard. Golese’s footsteps faded immediately, and the hall outside seemed a silent crypt. Still Sollux remained in place, counting the seconds until exactly two minutes and twenty-two seconds had passed–an arbitrary number to ascertain safety that meant nothing to anyone but those that knew him. His hand closed on the door handle just in time for a single footfall to register, a nondescript thud of a boot. Sollux hesitated until he heard what should have been the footstep’s twin clank, and he threw himself back with a fraction of composure further than someone diving away from an explosion just in time for a troll to open the door from the window’s blind spot.

Despite the relatively light workout Sollux’s lungs automatically began to burn, eyes watering at the corners from fumes long since evaporated from his skin as former interrogatormentor instructor Vitzii Pozoia stalked into the room. He looked haggard compared to the last time Sollux had seen him, tailored uniform since traded out for a ragged jacket and cargo pants that did little to disguise a metal arm and leg that screamed for maintenance. Pozoia always had a stiffness to him when Sollux had known him, but his offset, half-mechanical gait had never held him back before. Hair hung over Pozoia’s eyes now, which sank back into the hollows of an emaciated skull. Still his gaze remained steady, and Sollux felt his spine snap into a rigid poker to force his posture into one of rigid submission as he bared his throat. Pozoia, the shorter troll, still managed to look down his nose at Sollux. He wore a scarf now, blue as his own blood, but someone had stitched the edges down carefully with yellow thread with something akin to loving embroidery until it served as more of a liner for his high-collared jacket and prevented its use as a noose. Faint pinpricks in the fabric indicated that this hadn’t stopped Pozoia from trying to wrench it free all the same.

“You took the bait,” Pozoia said, voice flat.

"You took the sheet, didn't tell nobody, and didn't kick that lil' number habit of yours to the curb before leavin' so I had time to circle back." If Sollux didn’t know better, he’d think that Pozoia sounded disappointed. An X appeared on a scoreboard on the edge of Sollux’s memory, then another, then another. Strike one, two, and three. Test failed. 

[midnightshard06]

STH Rarepair Week Day 6: Cooking

You can check it out on ao3 here if you prefer.

Summary: Whisper randomly comes across one of the last people she was expecting, Infinite. For some reason she doesn't decide to just turn him in, and instead helps him. Meanwhile Infinite is slowly finding out he doesn't so much mind being around the wolf.

Pairing: Whisper/Infinite

Warnings: None to be had

Word Count: ~2200 words

AN: Never tried to write Whisper before (also only written Infinite once) so apologizes if anything seems off. The IDW characters are ones I have much less confidence in writing at the moment, but hey this was a fun little try and an interesting dynamic to feel out.

Whisper gripped her wispon tightly as the jackal sprawled out on the ground in front of her started to groan. She quietly shooed her friends into the safety of their capsules. If she needed them they could come out then, and not a moment sooner. Despite the lack of his distinct mask Whisper knew that the jackal before her was Infinite, Eggman’s right hand during the war. Though a decent amount of time had passed since Infinite’s disappearance, so why was he here now?

As Infinite pushed himself shakily to his knees Whisper pulled her mask over her face. Why hadn’t she informed the Restoration about this yet? Before she could figure out the answer to that, Infinite turned to look at her. His mismatched eyes were clouded with pain and confusion. “Who..?” His voice sounded rough, possible from lack of use. 

“Not important.” Whisper answered quietly. ”How did you get here?”

Infinite blinked, bringing a hand up to grip his head, “I don’t…” He gasped suddenly and brought his hand to his chest in a panic. Whisper tensed, ready to call on one of her wisps but as quickly as the energy came it seemed to leave Infinite. His hand fell back to the ground to support him. “It’s gone.” His gaze fell to the floor. “It would appear I’m at your mercy.”

Whisper tilted her head as she glanced at where Infinite had gripped at his chest. The gem that had once been there, the Phantom Ruby, was gone. In its place a scar, just starting to be covered by his fur. Although whatever had caused that had healed, she could make out several other injuries on his body. “You’re hurt.” She wasn’t sure why she pointed that out.

“I am.” Infinite confirmed, apathy lacing his voice.

She really should just contact someone at the Restoration and let them deal with him at this point, but for some reason she didn’t want to do that. “Let me help.” She offered instead. The least she could do was patch up his injuries since he didn’t really pose a threat right now. Without the Phantom Ruby at his disposal she was confident she could handle him. If it came to that.

Infinite sneered at her. “And why would you offer me help? I recognize that weapon in your hands. It’s clear we’re not on the same side.”

Whisper frowned, not that it could be seen. He did have a point. It wasn’t like he was in any real danger from his injuries just yet either. Logically it would make more sense to let someone else treat him once he was in a more contained environment. “You already lost.” Whisper decided to say instead, since she really didn’t have  a solid reason for offering help. 

“Do you find enjoyment in pointing out my failures?” Infinite growled.

“No.” Whisper was quick to clarify. She slowly moved towards him, reluctantly switching to holding her wispon in one hand. Infinite bared his teeth at her, but didn’t do much else. That was probably the closest she’d get to agreement right now. Once she was close enough she grabbed the jackal’s arm to take a look at that first. Surprisingly he didn’t try to pull away. 

Just like she’d figured from her initial glance, his injuries weren’t anything serious. Results of some sort of fight, but not against someone who was intending to really hurt. After a moment of hesitation she put her wispon down, out of Infinite’s reach but close enough she could grab it quickly if needed. He stayed oddly quiet as she did what she could to clean and bandage his injuries. It would do for now, but it would be better to use some more proper medical supplies later.

She backed away, picking back up her wispon, and held out a hand. Infinite’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the offered hand. “What game are you playing?”

“No game.” Whisper shook her head. “You can come with me, or take your chances alone.” Well that wasn’t entirely true, if he refused to go with her then that would likely be the point that she’d inform the Restoration about him. He’d probably be caught before he could even think about getting away.

Much to her surprise Infinite took her hand. His stance was shaky but he didn’t fall. “Don’t expect me to play nice with you.” He growled. “I’m only cooperating because it’s my best option.”

“Fine.” Whisper nodded. There was no reason to argue with him, especially if he was cooperating. The following walk was quiet, but Whisper honestly preferred that right now. At least Infinite didn’t try anything. She paused though as she realized she’d need to take him back to Restoration HQ. That wasn’t likely to go over well. 

She glanced back at Infinite, the jackal looked impatient. “What?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. Just follow my lead.” Whisper turned away and kept walking. If she was lucky no one would recognize him without the ruby or his mask.

Infinite was starting to believe trusting the wolf had been a poor idea. It wasn’t as if he’d had much of a choice but still. Excuse him if he was on edge while casually walking through a place full of people that would happily put him behind bars, or worse, if they looked close enough to realize who he was. Perhaps the only thing saving him was the wolf’s presence at this point. It was a minor miracle that the two managed to arrive at what he assumed was the wolf’s own dorm space without being stopped.

“You can stay here for now.” The wolf said, pushing her mask so it didn’t cover her full face. “Until I figure something else out.”

“I feel safer already.” He let the sarcasm in his voice be very clear. “How long until someone finds me and realizes who I am?”

“You didn’t have to come with me.” The wolf looked at him.

“We both know you wouldn’t have just let me walk away.” He narrowed his eyes. She simply shrugged before opening her coat allowing five different colored wisps to fly out. They all eyed him wearily, sticking close to the wolf.

The room was quiet for a while as the wolf just stood there, only half facing him. “Your wispon…” He eyed the weapon in question before looking at the wisps. “It’s different from the ones I remember seeing and you have more than one wisp with you.”

“Why does that matter?” The wolf seemed defensive.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Infinite shook his head. “Just making an observation.”

Silence once again fell between the two of them. Perhaps he should just sit down and try to rest for a bit. “... how did you know it was different?” The wolf spoke up again once he’d sat down.

“I did pay some attention to my enemies. Knowing their weapons was crucial in making sure I was never caught off guard.” He huffed. “Even if they didn’t pose much of a threat it was better to know than not.”

The wolf gave him a thoughtful look before turning to another door. “Just don’t touch it, or them.” She gestured to the wisps that followed her. There was no time to actually give an answer though as she vanished into what must be another room. He leaned back on the couch and watched the door for a few minutes, ears twitching at each noise he could hear. He couldn’t figure her out, and that felt dangerous. Not as if he had many options though. Crawling back to Eggman was out of the question, and it wasn’t like he was really fit to be on his own right now. As much as he hated it, he was likely safest staying with the wolf for now. He closed his eyes and tried not to think too hard about it.

Infinite's ear flicked as he heard Whisper emerge from the other room. Somehow he'd remained undetected for a couple weeks now, even in the midst of his enemies. Perhaps that was why it worked though. It was entirely unexpected. 

In that time he'd also earned the privilege of the wolf's name. It was… fitting based on how she talked. He did wonder if she spoke like that to everyone. There hadn't been much of a chance to tell considering the only other person he'd got to meet here had been a lemur who introduced herself as Tangle. She was quite… excitable to say the least. It was easy to tell why her and the hedgehog got along, Tangle had wasted no time in regaling him with a tale about some adventure she'd been on with Sonic. Though he failed to understand the clearly close bond Whisper and Tangle shared. He knew barely anything about his… host though, so perhaps there was something he was missing.

For now though, he was getting sent an odd look as Whisper walked into the room. Her wisps drifted closer to what he was doing in interest, but didn’t come too close. It was progress though. For the first week they wouldn’t leave Whisper’s side when he was in the same room. “What are you doing?” Whisper asked, frowning.

“Cooking. What does it look like?” Infinite huffed. He thought it was fairly obvious, and the wolf had proven to be quite smart so far. Well if one ignored the fact she brought a known former associate of Eggman into the Resistance- sorry Restoration’s main base.

“I know that.” She looked away briefly. “But why?”

“Because risking going out to get food from your cafeteria is becoming troublesome. Your lemur friend tends to find me and draw far more attention to me than I’d like.” Infinite gave her a look over his shoulder.

“That’s… understandable.” Whisper reluctantly nodded. “Why so much though?”

Infinite flicked an ear. His reasoning felt somewhat stupid in hindsight, but he needed to give her an answer. He hummed and made a show of looking at how much food he’d prepared. “Oh? I hadn’t even noticed I’d made that much.” He looked at her. “I suppose if you’d like you can have some. Would probably just go to waste otherwise.” Whisper tilted her head slightly; it felt like she was trying to figure him out just by looking at him. Instead of continuing to subject himself to that he turned away and dished up what he made of two different plates. “Take some or not, your choice.” He moved past her.

It didn’t take long for her to join him at the small table in the room, and thankfully things stayed quiet for a while. It was hard for a conversation to start when both people were eating after all. That however didn’t stop the wisps from floating as close to him as they’d ever gotten. Clearly they were curious. Perhaps they were even reflecting the curiosity of their master. Whisper seemed focused on the meal, but he was sure she had questions. He’d be content to never have to answer them.

"It was good." Whisper said evenly once the two were finished.

"It was edible at the very least." Infinite shrugged. He tried to ignore the odd feeling that settled over him at the compliment. It wasn't important.

"You're getting better." Whisper commented after a bite.

It had become an odd routine for him to cook at least one meal for the two of them. It honestly was one of the only things he could do to keep himself from going stir crazy. Neither of them had figured out a suitable solution to their situation, so things continued on. At the very least he'd gotten comfortable. Well at least as comfortable as he could in his situation. It was sort of… nice he supposed. Even if he was very limited in what he could do. He could privately admit to himself that Whisper helped.

"Thank you." He finally answered as he cleared away the dishes. The wisps all came over to watch with some sort of fascination as he washed them. He would never understand why such mundane things seemed to intrigue them.

"I've been thinking…" Whisper started. "Maybe it would be a good idea to just tell the Restoration about you."

Infinite turned on her with narrowed eyes. The wisps floated away, nervously glancing between the two. "And just how well do you think that will go hm?"

Whisper didn't back down. "We both know someone is going to figure it out eventually. Tangle is suspicious. It would be better to come clean so they don't make assumptions."

He frowned. Unfortunately the wolf's argument was solid, and perhaps his resistance had been worn down after being stuck here so long. It scared him that he wasn't actually against the idea of working for the other side. Maybe Whisper had been more of an influence on him than he thought. 

"Perhaps you're right." He looked away, fight draining from him. "At the very least it would be better than dancing around it all."

Whisper smiled, it was small but it made Infinite's heart beat fast. "It'll work out."

"I certainly hope so." Infinite took a deep breath. "And Whisper?" Said wolf hummed. "... thank you."

Her smile grew slightly as she nodded. "Ready?" She held out her hand.

He hesitated to take the offered hand. This had a decent chance of ending poorly for him, but he found he was willing to risk it at this point. Maybe in part due to Whisper. A small smile twitched into his face. "As I'll ever be."

[cat-esper]

Find the Word Tag

I'm getting a little behind on these. Thanks for tagging, @kaylinalexanderbooks

My words are rib, write, expect, spin, and person

I'm tagging @awleeofficial, @illarian-rambling, and @revenantlore and your words are home, bright, age, and creep

These are from The Zodiac Circuit, since it's been a while since I talked about it.

Rib

The wights make their move. It's like a switch has been activated and creatures that were once docile now become aggressive and violent. They're charging toward the base, heedless of the laser grid. It rips them apart but they just keep coming, their constituent parts pulling back together again into creatures that are whole, but wrong. Twisted limbs fit onto broken ribcages and crushed skulls gnash their broken cranial plates like extra mouths. There are other bones that are not human. A mass of dog, rodent, bird, and cow bones intermingle with the human remains to form monstrous things, still wearing their tendons and the weeds they crawled through to get out of the ground.

Expect

The youngest conduit, Shao Xin, raises his hand. Director Koehler crosses his arms. "Yes, conduit?" "Will we get androids soon?" Everyone seems to perk up at this. They look excited at the prospect. "That you will." Koehler smiles as if he looks forward to it too. "But I have to warn you, these are no ordinary household androids or labor models. They are classed Regulator 10-45s. Highly autonomous, capable of handling a variety of weapons, and priority improvisation. A regulator's number one priority is to protect its conduit. It's number two priority is to obey its conduit. These are high-functioning weapons and I expect you to treat them as such." This doesn't seem to deter the conduits at all. "Tomorrow you will be paired with your regulators and you will have the chance to practice syncing up once you reach Albuquerque. But the real test will be in the field, fighting the wights. I wish all of you the best of luck."

Spin

Before she could spin toward the exit, he spoke again and this time, she understood every word. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. Is there anything I can do to relieve your distress?" "You're a machine," Rhys breathed. "An android, yes. Identification 10-45-500-R, though you may call me Jonathan. Who are you?" This was just what she needed. In trying to hide from Salvada, she'd found something infinitely more dangerous.

Person

MARTHA DALTON: If it's not too much trouble, what was it like? The public are only aware of what the news tells them. They consider conduits to be heroes. But what is it really like? In the thick of it. HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: It's...Christ, I don't even know how to describe it. At first it's chaos. The wights...they don't fight like people. They don't fight like animals, either. They just overwhelm you with numbers and even when you mow them down, they keep on coming. You want an account of fighting them, you ask a soldier. But being a conduit, it's...different. Difficult. You don't see or hear things like everyone does. MARTHA DALTON: How do you mean? HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: I mean...it's like you're living this life, seeing the world as a regular person all this time. You're used to it. Red is red, water is wet. Everything makes sense. But when you plug in, it's like...it's like all your senses get scrambled. You hear smells and taste colors. You're experiencing so many sensations at once that your brain can't make any sense of it. MARTHA DALTON: Sort of like synesthesia? HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: I guess, yeah. It takes a lot of practice to get used to the way the world feels when you're channeling. That's a big reason we have androids. They stay in touch, keep us grounded, and tell us what we're seeing since we often can't tell for ourselves. And I can tell you that trying to fight under those conditions is not an easy task. It's draining and it's confusing. There are all these sounds and colors and the whole time, you feel on the brink of a panic attack. Your whole body is out of sync and it takes everything you have to keep it together.

And the last one from Incantations of the Mad Mage:

Write

Someone had set up a table on the main deck and stretched a heavy piece of canvas over it. Unsticking her frozen joints, Kas shuffled over to join Dleyda, Vier, Keldr, Ered, and Arna, who didn't seem nearly as miserable and close to death as she felt because of the cold weather. Keldr placed weights on the edges of the canvas to keep it in place and Dleyda uncapped a bottle of ink. Others joined them. "I'll need everyone's energy for this," Dleyda said. He dipped a quill in the ink and began to write. No one said a word, watching him concentrate as he wrote in the tight, looping characters of Emdakhra. Kas recognized the setup for a seeking spell, the one she and Dleyda had argued about during the beginning of the voyage. After a few minutes, he gestured to Keldr, who handed over the book, Taragren Svara: Hero of Skabray. He opened it to a page with the Reverie's specifications and began to input those into the spell. Next, Dleyda took out Reman's sword and used Dranarai as a reference for describing Dranasha as best as he could. When he finally finished, placing the quill aside, he had line upon line of spellscript filling the canvas.

General taglist: @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1, @teacupsandstarlight

[candiid-caniine]

I'm in a position where I can't really get any sex toys, specifically for insertion and that's like 90% of what I need and I need something and idk what to do I'm going insane. Do you know anyone who makes like, under cover toys or know of any at least temporary solution Oh Bug with your infinite horny knowledge I pray thee, I need to be full and there's nothing to be full of

ahahaha this made me giggle! i can't promise to have infinite horny knowledge, but i will try my best to help. it's a travesty whenever a sweetheart out there in the world has to be empty <3

note: i'm working off the assumption you're talking about a vagina; if not, i apologize, but i don't think i'd feel comfortable recommending anal toy substitutes anyway due to the higher safety risk!

first, let's talk about materials if your best bet is household items:

top of the list in terms of safety is glass. i'd also say steel, but household objects made of steel aren't necessarily made of body-safe steel/surgical steel, so glass is really my top pick. it's non-porous, can be infinitely sanitized and re-used, and has some fun things you can do with temperature play too ;)

second favorite is gonna be plastic. it (and any other material) is 100% safe for insertion WITH a barrier like a condom, but if you can't get those for similar reasons you can't get a sex toy, use plastic sparingly; it is porous, so it can trap bacteria, which...i'll be honest here. i've never heard of this happening to people, even when they use the same hard plastic toy over and over, if they wash it a lot in between. thousands of people across the world have used a hairbrush handle, one of those 10-color pens (lol ask me how i know), and other items available to a kid in their teenage years. often repeatedly. my theory: yes, plastic can trap bacteria...but it's mostly gonna be bacteria from your body, and unless you're switching holes, i think the risk of that bacteria being non-benign is low; additionally, if you're washing it immediately afterwards and storing it in a safe place, the risk of it coming into contact with external bacteria is also low. regardless, it's safest to think of plastic as a temporary solution, and to replace it fairly often. good news is it tends to be cheap!

third best bet: a vegetable in a condom. could never do this bc i hate wasting food. could also never do this bc i was in a similar situation to you at the time, and in my case i couldn't get condoms, and no way was i putting pesticides up my vag!

i know it may seem weird that i'm putting silicone last. it should be first. food-grade silicone is probably insertion-safe, but the reason it's last on the list is that it's hard to find food-grade silicone items in the right shape lol.

now for some ideas of common items that might work/be easily concealable or explainable:

those big bubble wands (plastic). empty them out first lmao. make sure the bottom of the tube, where it was likely cut from the assembly line, doesn't have any weird rough edges. bonus points that you can put a bullet vibe in it if you have one, and if it's too light to fuck satisfyingly, try putting something heavier inside :)

the world of guasha and acupressure massage implements is wide and varied lol. from amazon, here is a steel one that's plain and simple. if you like odd shapes, here's whatever this is.

one of the pitfalls of household insertables is the shape; they're often ramrod-straight, which a vagina isn't, and rigid, so they don't bend to you. if you're confident in your pelvic floor strength, i recommend these guys! you may not exactly be able to fuck yourself with them, but they're an excellent way to feel full :)

check out the handle on this dude. is this anything? hell if i know lmao.

i've found pervertables on amazon before by just searching "[material] tools" or "[material] [shape]" or just in general typing in the material, then clicking around in random sections of Amazon and seeing what pops up! i've also found them by just wandering around stores and looking at objects in the context of what they'd feel like inside me, or being used to hit me, etc.

now for some actual, purpose-made toys that are discreet from Etsy:

carrot lmao. it's expensive, and i think primarily meant for anal insertion, but there you have it.

here's a simple but effective idea. why sacrifice good, plain function when you could just hide it well instead?

toy disguised as a paperweight with a DP option :)

i guess you could reasonably claim that this one was a gag gift or something. maybe get one of those little silicone hand puppets shaped like a real dino head and put it on there when you're not using it.

tis the fucking season!

dear lord. this is how i used to hide my weed lol. listen, i'm begging you, at least once it would be so funny to pretend this dog is a representation of me and i'm holding ur dick for you and looking at u with them sad puppy eyes okay?

hear me out, stay in this space with me; consider just hiding your dildo really effectively. here / are / some / really neat stash boxes i found on etsy. afaik the teddy ones are easy to diy; i made mine by cutting a hole in the bum of a big old stuffed pig i had and packing in my entire weed jar and then refilling it lol.

i hope this helped, or at least gave you some ideas! thank you for asking! <33

[orviposition]

What trope would you put Joongdok in?

i honestly think that when it comes to joongdok it would be much easier if i answered with the tropes i WOULDNT put them in 😭😭

oh boy here i go! let's start with two of the most obvious first:

1. matching outfits with opposite color schemes, and 2. opposites (leo & aquarius) attract (<- attract as in lowkey bordering in codependency)

yin & yang - not only are joongdok aesthetically yin&yang but narratively too (i mentioned in a previous ask that they're sky & earth too)

star-crossed - (if you believe in orv's sad ending)

life (and death) companions - is probably a trope on its own considering the meaning of the title. not only does it mean (i ran the term through a thesaurus so yall don't have to 👍🏻👍🏻) "a romantic partner with whom one is exceptionally or uniquely compatible or has a special connection" but the synonyms are also of the romantic variety ranging from (but not limited to) life partner, best friend, soulmate, spouse, true love, one's promised, significant other, love of one's life, beloved, heart's desire etc (long story short, pretty sick tbh. no wonder kr dudebros threw a fit in singshong's comment section over it. i get it) and what makes it infinitely funnier is that it started as crack being treated seriously 😭😭😭😭

anyway, continuing where i left off, Soulmates - kdj is the reason yjh exists. yjh is the reason kdj lives. (hsy wrote both of them in a way that they became each other's salvation hence their position of reader-protagonist gets switched in the epilogue and both of them have admitted that reading about the other's story has saved their lives)

everyone ships them/everyone can see it - uriel, gabriel, ljh, hsy, jhw, lsh, anna croft, persephone/hades (the third eligible candidate to marry kdj was yjh and you will never be able to convince me otherwise. also if you have an answer other than yjh ur wrong), yma (if webtoon dares not to draw the "oppa looks happy when thinking about that ahjussi" you'll see me on the news) the wenny king. heck even gong pildu, upon some consideration and by method of elimination, deduced that theres no way kdj has enough rizz to pull neither ysa nor hsy therefore who was left to be the one who helped kdj birth his "child" (kidified sp) ??? yjh obv 😭😭 and why would he question the possibilities of mpreg when hmo is right there anyway. heck hmo even told kdj that he should try it.

when one is hurt/dying/dead, the other rages, panics, is extremely distressed - (maybe there's a shorter way to say this like "who did this to you" but joongdok have ascended past cheesy romances 😝) disaster of flood arc, aftermath of dark castle, the fight with surya, 1863, aftermath of sp's kidnapping etc

hates everyone but you - sure yjh doesnt hate All constellations but he for sure hates all demon kings. (mini fun fact about me, up until joongdok rebranded my brain, i didnt like this trope)

aloof x low self-esteem = both emotionally constipated 🙄🙄

derogatory term becomes a term of endearment - fool/sunfish (bastard)

bickering like a married couple - is this a trope? well it is now

denial of attraction/closeness - just two men who most definitely never lie when it comes to their feelings

identity theft - without malicious intent (i hope!! *stares at all the atrocities kdj has committed using yjh's name*)

masterchef x disaster in the kitchen - very, very, very simplified version of the trope. wouldnt call kdj a disaster but definitely a worse cook than yjh (subtrope would be [pro-gamer x game tester])

famous x fan - lol "famous"

annoying x annoyed - (kdj: breathes. yjh: ugh drop dead. kdj: drops dead. yjh: wait no-💢)

A thinks B will be happy without him / B doesn't know how (doesn't want) to live without A - 51kdj seeing 49kdj leave with yjh and the others, thinking that he and yjh will set on a journey together to find tls123 / museum fight

will sacrifice everyone/everything for the other - *cracks knuckles* when 41st sys tries to give yjh a 2nd chance to save himself and his old companions and all he had to do was say that kdj isn't his companion. when kdj admits that 1863rd hsy's plan to see the ending of the scenarios is smart and well-thought out but because that world doesn't need yjh he doesn't cooperate. (side story spoilers below, but when you think about it long enough the side story came to be because yjh spread orv to lhh's worldline. all the deaths happening because yjh needs to collect a fragment of kdj's soul from that world)

speaking of lhh, reincarnation - now hear me out. not your typical reincarnation but bcs we know that 49kdj's wish was to reincarnate into someone that doesn't have anything to do with kimcom -> subtrope: doesn't want to be found / is found

amnesia - 0 is also not your typical amnesiac

god x god's favorite

age gap - theyre both the same age and simultaneously have age gap(s) make of that what you will

important symbol - (object) pocket watch

glucose guardian - listen!! listen!! sp/kdj and 0/51 exist okay

harem - sorry i couldnt help it

[miscmonstro]

The Uno Reverse Adoption Saga (formerly No Title Yet) 6

what's this? a title?? on MY fic?????

First: Chapter 1

Previous: Chapter 5

Next: Chapter 7

Halfa!Trio Au crossover with Batman

Current Characters: Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd

Summary: Forced to attend a gala by her parents as she is every year, Sam Manson was resigned to suffer through the stifling three-night gala until something pulled at her core. The something turned out to be a someone. Just who is Jason Todd and can the trio gain enough of his trust to help him before his struggling proto-core collapses?

👻 {Chapter 6 Below!)

Jason was pissed. 

To be fair, pissed off could describe him at any given point, though the trio didn’t know that.

“So you just decided ‘hey, rain’ll work’,” he glowered. 

The four were in the attic. They’d returned the hostages and the crasher to the main floor for the paramedics and police to find respectively and then withdrawn to temporarily camp out. After a brief introduction of Tucker as Ghouley they glossed over Sam’s name, moving the conversation every which way before Jason had all but demanded to know how exactly they’d worked around the situation.

“Yeah,” Tucker shrugged. “And it did work, didn’t it?” 

Jason muttered curses to himself and with their enhanced hearing, the phantoms heard every word. Danny mentally shuffled at the colorful vocabulary and Sam’s snicker echoed in their heads. They weren’t quite used to it because even if they could curse in their minds, they could not speak those words aloud. Curses were used sparingly. It was even more unusual to hear from someone else; back home, no one could swear.

Jason didn’t respond to Tucker’s statement and the frown on what was visible of his face under the mask deepened. “That was reckless. And where is Manes? Four kids isn’t better than three.”

“Uh oh,” Danny thought. Tucker made a mental shooing motion at Sam.

“She’s coming here,” he said. 

Jason raised a skeptical brow and Danny hurriedly offered to make a copy and shift to look like Sam. Sam shot him down; he still wasn’t great at duplication. They didn’t need to explain why Manes dissolved into a puddle of goop.

“She’ll be here soon and if not, we’ll go look for her,” Sam settled on bullshitting. Really, while she and Danny went ‘looking’ for Manes she’d switch back to human and voila, cover complete. 

“You four have no idea what danger you’re in. Dead or not whatever, you can make your own choices, but it’s irresponsible to shove Manes into this,” Jason said sternly. “And it’s not your job to clean up other people’s messes.”

Not their mess? Maybe that had been true, once upon a time, and they had struggled and even quitted the hero thing at different points over the years. But it was always a Fenton mess, with the offending portal in their basement, and Sam and Tucker’s for daring Danny to do the deed of accidentally turning it on in the first place. They were the cause, so protecting Amity had been their responsibility by default. But now? Danny was the King of the Infinite Realms. All ghosts were his responsibility and far be it for Sam and Tucker to abandon him now. It was unthinkable. So it was their mess, always had been, and now always would be. 

“Why wouldn’t Manes help?” Sam scoffed. She swore she was going to punch him, baby ghost or not, if he spouted some nonsense about her being a girl.

“She’s a fucking human kid? And shouldn’t be risking injury like that?” he spat incredulously. “There’s no reason for a teenage girl to be cleaning up the Bat’s messes.”

“Hey! We’re also teenagers,” protested Danny, “and if we can do it, so can she.” 

“And how long have you been dead?” Jason shot back rudely. “You could be forty for all I know.”

Danny felt a spike of annoyance. 

“Ghosts don’t work like that,” Tucker huffed. He stared at Jason, mentally debating what they could, and should, share with him.

Jason was getting increasingly worked up. “Look, you might be teens, sure. Fine. The problem is that there wasn’t anything that could’ve hurt you, but that’s not true for humans.”

Sam, surprisingly impressed, remarked, “That’s actually really thoughtful. Pretty useless sentiment though.”

“I don’t think he knows that,” Tucker sighed, floating downwards and settling on an old boxy chest. 

Well, they weren’t going to tell him they were halfa.

“You’re clearly not familiar with the situation, but all humans who know about us and aren’t hunting us are automatically subject to be hunted,” Sam said, taking a different angle that would still explain her human side’s involvement. “Did you read the acts? The association and ecto-entity aid clauses? Just by knowing us and not wanting us to be tortured thousands of people’s untimely deaths can be swept under the rug. It doesn’t matter if Manes helps us directly or not, she and everyone like her are targets.” 

The only reason those parts of the acts were not enforced was because as much as they wanted to, the GIW couldn’t handle all of Amity. They didn’t have the manpower.

The angry frown shifted to a more troubled and less hostile expression. “I- just why?” Jason asked, seemingly at a loss. “Why would that many people risk themselves? Their families? There has to be more to this.”

“Ghosts aren’t all bad and people know it,” Tucker explained gently. “Some of these people have friends and family who’ve come back, some just don’t think it’s right. But truthfully, a lot of people are just too ecto-contaminated to qualify as regular humans anymore. According to the acts.”

“So Manes is in danger one way or another,” Jason muttered.

Jason was oddly fixated on Manes, but he was also just suspicious all around. “And most people agree they need ghosts to protect them from bigger threats,” Danny added cheekily. He figured he’d capitalize on the suspicion and distract him.

“Be back in a bit, we’re going to find Manes,” Sam blurted when she realized what he had, that Jason’s eyes kept flickering over to the ladder. She phased through the floor and Danny followed reluctantly a moment later. 

Jason eyed where they’d gone through the floor before asking Tucker warily, “Bigger threats? The hell does that mean?”

Tucker flicked Danny’s presence for leaving him to answer the new line of questioning, then thought back to all the strange things they’d been thrown headfirst into and the different ways they’d learned to handle them lest they sink. “Threats that make artificial rain look reasonable.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Jason growled. 

“Dude I don’t know,” Tucker exhaled exasperatedly, though he knew all too well. “Think, like, eternal sleep, mass mind control, evil plants destroying cities, that kind of thing.” 

With a dismissive scoff the younger ghost said, “Sounds like JL stuff. I would’ve heard of that.” 

Tucker hesitated, momentarily forgetting what JL was before nodding. “Ah, them. Yeah, the events are pretty isolated. A lot of people are interested in keeping this mess under wraps.” Vlad, himself and the Phantoms, the GIW, and most recently, Technus had all inputted their unique brands of high end cyber security, cloaking Amity in a veil that was nigh impenetrable to outsiders. “Even then, the League can never come near ghost hotspots.”

“Ominous,” Sam laughed.

“The vaguer I am, the more questions he asks, the more time you have to look busy,” Tucker replied with the air of ‘I’m doing you a favor’. 

Jason, perhaps emboldened by the absence of the other two, snapped, “But that doesn’t explain anything! Why can’t they? Preventing the destruction of cities is exactly what they’re for!”

“Dude, ghosts,” Tucker emphasized. “The acts aside, ghosts have an ability called overshadowing. It lets us possess people. Do you want to deal with a possessed Wonder Woman? The correct answer is no. Nobody does.”

Jason crossed his arms and studied Tucker. He breathed in and out once, and then twice. 

“So Manes said the GIW operate more to the west,” he mused, quite a bit calmer. “Where exactly should I avoid?”

“Illinois and Wisconsin for sure, Iowa is a so-so depending on the season. Consider it ‘visit at your own risk’. There’s also a hotspot in Oregon that they haven’t quite picked up on yet but a lot of people are worried that it’s only a matter of time,” Tucker rattled off, the maps of GIW activity zipping through his mind letting him answer easily. “The only exception is Amity Park. Ghosts are really common there and it’s where the GIW got started, but it’s also where they have the least amount of success.” 

“Amity Park?” Jason tilted his head. There was a spark of curiosity in him, the kind that made you want to know everything.

“Never search that up,” Tucker advised, knowing intimately all the triggers that search would trip. “I can get you a map if you’re interested in relocating.” 

“I think it’s been long enough,” Tucker thought.

“No thanks,” Jason backtracked quickly. “I’m happy in Gotham.”

Sam, on the ladder, switched back into her human form and climbed up the top few rungs. 

“Hey guys,” she said. 

Jason rose from the box he’d been sitting on and looked her over with keen eyes. “Did you get injured?” he asked with worry.

“No I- gah!”

Sam’s hold on the ladder slackened and Tucker shot over to grab her. If not for him and Danny, who’d been invisible just below her, she would’ve fallen. 

The fear was back. 

“Sam you have to switch back,” Danny thought quickly. It hadn’t become overwhelming yet but even in the few seconds that she was human it had grown at an alarming rate. Soon, like before, it would spiral out of control.

Sam wanted to but Jason was right there.

“Come on Sam, we’ll figure it out later. Change back. It’s not worth it,” Tucker insisted. Danny had reservations but he shoved them aside. He could deal with Jason if necessary.

“Going ghost!” Sam gasped. The rings enveloped her and once again the fear abated.

“Oh thank the Ancients!” Tucker said.

“Gah,” she groused. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I think you have some explaining to do.”

Three heads swiveled towards Jason.

They really didn’t have to- Sam’s knee jerk reaction was to scowl and say they didn’t owe him jack but… he felt so unwillingly fragile in a way that made him feel like failure, likely unused to situations where he didn’t have an upper hand. That made him fidgety and angry and the little bit of his guard that had fallen rose back up and doubled in height. Tucker winced. They didn’t want to intimidate him. With a sigh Sam made up her mind- what he’d seen was pretty damning anyway. 

Danny shifted back to visibility seeing as the gig was up. “Oh come on! We didn’t last two hours,” he complained.

“I’m a halfa,” Sam admitted slowly. “And there are only five of us in existence. So I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”

“Wait, so what’s wrong?” Danny carefully asked out loud. If there was one secret more well kept than the existence of halfa, it was the existence of their mental connection.

Sam grimaced. “I got hit with that fear stuff. It’s totally shut down my human side.”

Jason wasn’t that easy to divert. “Wait no, back up. Halfa? Explain.”

“Halfas are just that, half human, half ghost, and a well kept secret from the living,” Tucker said, eyeing Jason meaningfully. “Only two humans know.”

Sam, feeling bitter that she’d messed up again tonight muttered sourly, “I can flip between the living and dead. That’s unique to halfa.”

Jazz had known almost from the beginning- she’d figured it out early on and had committed to their corner ever since. Valarie was less accidental; the trio had decided to come clean for the sake of communication after too many close calls and while it had caused a few bumps in the beginning, overall their teamwork with the Red Huntress had improved. Even then, she’d known about Vlad and Dani so the concept of halfa was one she was already familiar with.

“So what am I then?” Jason asked. “I’m human but with a… core.” He was trying to mask his anxiousness at the question but said core was broadcasting his emotions loud and clear.

“We don’t know,” Danny said bluntly. 

“But we know someone who might,” Tucker added. “Have you ever wanted to visit the Ghost Zone?” 

“We know a doctor or two,” Sam elaborated. “You know, ghost doctors.”

Jason’s core fluctuated with irritation and a helplessness that was quickly converted into anger. “Great. Fantastic. So you don’t know what I am. Well I do and guess what? It’s called a zombie, kids.”

Danny shook his head. “You’re not a zombie, we’ve seen those.”

“What kind of undead are you then?” Jason questioned, staring pointedly at Tucker as he fiddled absently with his PDA. 

“Er,” Danny said, looking at his partners.

“He’s kinda one of us,” Tucker said, though he really wasn’t an ecto-entity. Still, with the way they were classed by the acts, there was no difference between them.

“He might find out from another ghost anyway,” Sam acknowledged. 

“We’re all halfas, actually. Team Phantom, at your service!” Danny turned back to Jason with an exaggerated bow.

Jason had been cycling through different reactions yet seemed to circle back to anger frequently. A greater intensity rattled him at the new information, converting everything else into utter rage. “Ok back the fuck up. You’re all teenagers?” His words were drenched in dismay.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Danny retorted confidently. In his mind all the headlines declaring them menaces and calling their intentions into doubt flashed by. Tucker gave him a mental hug. “He doesn’t know Danny, he doesn’t get it.”

“Yes, an adult kid,” Sam grumbled. “How innocent and unawares.”

“You three threw yourselves into a dangerous situation for no goddamn reason.” 

The deceptively quiet statement was razor-sharp and overwhelmed with reverberating sentiments full of pain.

This was, for some reason, quite personal to him. 

‘Upset child,’ their internal alarms rang, ‘do something!’

“We know about unnecessary risks,” Danny said at length. 

“We just mistook the liminal guy for a ghost,” Sam nodded.

“And ghosts are our responsibility,” Tucker finished. “We wouldn’t have stepped in otherwise. Like you said before, the locals had it under control.”

Jason grit his teeth and then deflated, taking a deep breath. “And you have no one else who could’ve done it? There’s no ghost police? You kids don’t have any mentors?” 

“Naw, we’re self taught,” Tucker said proudly. That was the wrong thing to say as Jason’s emotions constricted into a tight ball of frustration and fury.

“We had to step up. No one else would or could,” Danny explained gloomily. It wasn’t like they had wanted to do this. That made the already heavy emotions in Jason’s core even denser. 

“Gah. Okay, different topic. How am I supposed to get rid of the fear stuff? I can’t exactly go to a hospital,” Sam asked, changing the topic to something that would hopefully distract the pit of volatile emotion that was growing inside of Jason.

Jason jumped on the issue presented to him, more than happy for the distraction. “Usually there’s an antidote. This is a new variant so it might take a few weeks before an updated antidote is made.”

“Crud,” Danny cursed.

Sam sighed.

“We can say your grandmother took you to the officials and tell your grandmother you avoided the attack or something,” suggested Tucker.

Just as he finished Jason offered, “I could get Bruce to pay for a private physician.”

“Too risky,” Sam dismissed. “Our vitals are different. Besides, there are rumors that he funds the bats and the last thing we want to do is get near them.”

“Hm,” Jason hummed. He seemed to settle on something,resolving to do some unknown thing, before he spoke again. “Lesson one kids, lying. I’ll take the money and move it to make it look like a physician was involved. That way the story holds up. You ideally want three to four layers but in this case, two isn’t a bad place to start.”

“Won’t your dad mind?” worried Tucker.

With a smirk Jason said, “Not at all.”

“Great? But what do you want in return?” Sam asked suspiciously. 

“Just tell me how to get to the ghost doctor and we’ll call it even,” Jason proposed.

“Oh. Right, well, that’s a whole other can of worms.”

👻 {Boo!)

“So to recap. Living age means nothing. Ghosts age like trees. You three are independent adults. I’m a ghost orphan because hell if anyone knows. Nobody will care about that and if I go to the Zone, of which there are only two reliable ways to get there and they’re both in Amity, I’ll get mobbed and forcefully adopted and never see earth again. Did I miss anything?”

“No, that’s about it,” Tucker said too cheerfully. 

Jason rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the box he’d sat in front of when the trio had first launched into their long winded explanation. 

“I can adopt you. It’s… probably the best option anyway,” Danny offered hopefully, the very tip of his spectral tail twitching. “Ghosts won’t try to be malicious but they will forget how humans work. As a halfa there’s no risk of that from me and I’m really strong.”

“We. We’re a packaged deal,” Sam stubbornly interjected. 

“Oh boy,” Tucker exhaled. “Guys we’re not ready for this and there’s no way he’s going to agree-“

“Maybe. What does ghost adoption entail?”

Danny was more than happy to answer.

“We’d be your ghost guardians so we’d check up on you. We’d also do health stuff like cycle ectoplasm through your proto-core since it can’t pump on its own yet. And bonding stuff, you know, like play fighting. Ghosts love play fighting,” he jumped to explain. There was a powerpoint with the information and a mini Jazz in his head as he went through it. “But since we have human parts still we can watch movies and stuff, that should also work. Your emotions might get a little off balance since that happens as a core grows and we’d eat the extra. Also-“

“Hang on, eat my core? That thing might be the only reason I’m alive!” interrupted Jason with a recoil. 

At the startled anger-fear that he felt Danny rushed to explain but Tucker, who was more composed, spoke first. “That wasn’t what he meant. By eating the extra stuff around your core we’re trying to stabilize it. Ectoplasm is linked to emotion and too much of anything is bad. You can’t feel one emotion all the time but if you tend toward a specific emotion, you might generate too much of one kind of ectoplasm. Think of it like pruning the dead stems off a plant. It doesn’t hurt at all and helps keep a plant, or core in this case, balanced and healthy.”

“I hate that I know that,” Tucker said miserably, thinking of the plant example he’d just used. Sam gloated.

Jason turned that over for a moment before he sighed. “Alright. What else?”

“One last thing. Once- if we do this our cores will start generating stuff for you to eat too. It’s kinda like baby food for ghostlings,” Danny said with a grin at Jason’s perturbed expression.

“Don’t you kids need it? For your own cores or whatever?” Jason questioned with a frown.

Sam almost snorted. “Adult ghosts, remember?”

“And you don’t have to answer now, the offer’s always open,” Tucker placated at the sudden weariness from Jason. “You got lucky with the timing actually- the Christmas Truce is going to happen soon and nobody is allowed to fight during the truce. If you really don’t want to be adopted you could go to the Zone to see the doctors on Christmas.”

“They’ll totally follow you until the truce is up though,” Sam cautioned. 

“I can lose them,” Jason declared without a hint of hesitation. “I’m going during the truce.”

Danny sucked in a breath. It was hard to ignore the fact that there was what amounted to a sick, starving child in front of him and he couldn’t do anything about it. It was nauseating. To say he was disappointed Jason opted against adoption would be a gross understatement.

“We don’t know for sure yet,” Tucker said, though it rang hollow. Even without a more experienced eye they could all tell that his core was in a delicate state from proximity alone.

Still, Tucker had done the right thing in giving Jason the options. Meeting the medical yetis during the truce, however, ushered in a new set of problems.

“The party is at my lair this year,” Danny reminded them. “I kinda halfa be there.”

“This isn’t the time for puns,” Sam hissed. 

“He’s right though. As the new king he can’t exactly skip out again,” Tucker sighed without any remorse. He was looking forward to it and had been since last year. “Also Danny, you already used that one tonight.”

Danny elected to ignore the critique of his puns. “But it kinda works out, right? The yetis will be there. We have time to set up doctor’s equipment. We just have to ask if they’d be willing to help,” he pointed out.

“And if you ask they’ll say yes,” Sam thought. 

Danny felt conflicted after that comment. He didn’t make them do anything but if he so much as mentioned something in passing, they would go out of their way to do it.

“It won’t take all night,” consoled Tucker. “They’ll get to party with everyone else.”

“Alright, works for us,” Sam said aloud. “On Christmas we’ll take you to the Zone.”

👻 {Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.)

Taglist time! If you want to be added, just say so!

@depressed-bitchy-demon @dp-marvel94 @birbtails @mr-lancers-english-class @miraculousandmore @iglowinggemma28 @manapeer @azzysflowergarden @notwhat-i-seemtobe @whobee7 @trippingovermyfeet @stormhaven257 @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @passivedecept @lovetheryu @ever-after-aaa @mysteriousooze @wegetitethan @cyber-geist @t-nayira @wisteriavines @starscreamlover

Next: Chapter 7

[gabagoulie]

Currently finishing Bioshock Infinite and I Have Opinions.

The first game is still my favorite in terms of mechanics, the UI was nice, the powers were nicely spaced in acquisition and in order, the powers themselves made more sense then in Infinite, and I like that you have access to all of them whenever you want (so long as you have all the slots unlocked). Dame thing goes for the weapons, I like having access to all the guns, I only ever used the shotgun, machine gun, and pistol (in that order) but I liked having options. Being only able to carry two gund at a time and having to hunt for a new gun is just a pain in the ass. The only thing it's done is discourage me from switching weapons, because when will I find another carbine?

IN CONTRAST Infinite has confusing controls, the salts and powers are fairly useless (to me, the only one I ever want to use is the ravens, but that's just me) and the inability to save up health kits and salt bottles to use on command when in battle vexes me to no end.

The navigation system as well just wasn't uo to part with the first game. That stupid glowing arrow that you have to press several times while running to know where to go. I have gotten lost several times, usually when I get stuck it's bc the arrow is telling me to take the rails forever and I just run around forever until I manage to stumble into the goal.

I WILL SAY in FAVOR of Infinite, the story is much better. The "twist" doesn't really come out of left field, it flows so much better than in the first game where it all of a sudden tells you "oops, youre actually a mind controlled super baby! Lol, go fight a DIFFERENT man with a god complex, not just you're bio dad in a cutscene. For realzies this time!" And then makes you become a big daddy and babysit a malicious child for no reason and for way too long. I wanted to punt that stupid thing.

I loved the first game a lot up until Andrew Ryan and the twist of whats-his-face not being Atlas. It felt like the writers couldn't figure out the ending and got lost in the sauce trying to make it dramatic. But the controls and mechanics were far better. The fear that grabbed my soul every time I heard the deep moans of a big daddy and not knowing where is was, but knowing it's near? Unparalleled. The stupid bird thing cannot come even CLOSE the the ambient big daddy's. Even late game when I figured out that the big daddy's aren't actually a big threat (unless attacked)

Obviously my opinion is my opinion, people who play this kind of game on a different system (I'm playing on switch bc I'm funny like that) or because they like the challenge of fps games will think differently. I am playing these games for fun, not challenge. I just want to run around these funny little cities and find out what's going on.

[kirchefuchs]

(Luxie I am so sorry for psychoanalyzing you it's just,, you're so,,, psychoanalyse-able, yk? I just gotta psychoanalyse you...

..sPeaking of psychoanalyzing–)

Ceres

my dear friend

I have thought of the greatest Lovebug headcanon (it's actually my first Lovebug headcanon actually lmao ☠️)

BUT IMAGINE THIS

Imagine this.

(also let's assume that this concept is before the Stannarrator ship sailed in your AU :D)

Imagine the Lovebug Virus only going away once it is "satisfied." Like, a certain switch has to be flicked; a certain figurative button has to be pushed. Imagine the virus slowly showing hints to what the other person — in this case, it'll be Stanley — needs to do for it to go away.

Imagine that the only way to satisfy it is to kiss Luxie.

But Stanley can't do that! Luxie is only acting this way because of the virus! Kissing him would just be taking advantage of him, wouldn't it?

But here's the thing; Lovebug!Pollux is extremely affectionate. He's been hugging Stanley out of the blue a lot, holding his hand a bunch, kissing his cheek/s anytime he can, and everything similar. LB!Pollux does all of this, not expecting anything else in return.

Imagine Stanley deciding to return the affection one day.

And, it turns out, the virus can be satisfied that way; but it takes way longer than it would be to just kiss him.

But Stanley doesn't know how to kiss so he just decides to continue returning the affectionate gestures

And this goes on for several months. It started off as LB!Luxie doing the gestures first, then Stanley returnung them with little to no questions asked. Then it moved to LB!Luxie just moving closer to Stanley, and Stanley deciding to take the initiative to do the gestures. And then, it moved to both Stanley and LB!Luxie flat-out hugging and cuddling and holding hands and etc etc anytime they could.

And by the time the Lovebug Virus is gone, all the affectionate gestures turn into unconscious habits.

But Luxie — the actual Luxie — isn't used to that.

So everytime Stanley hugs him and holds him and takes his hand and etc etc, Luxie doesn't even know how to react without the Lovebug Virus controlling his every reaction. He's basically left a blushing and flustered mess because of Stanley.

In short: At first, LB!Luxie showed Stanley a bunch of love and affection. Stanley slowly got used to it and even started to return the gestures. By the time the Lovebug Virus is gone, Stanley is already used to showing so much affection, but Luxie isn't, and is now having to go through what Stanley did during his time with LB!Luxie :D

I forgot how this was meant to play out but I wanted to share this with you mwahahahaha

(Also, I feel like psychoanalyzing a random ending, soooooo do tell me any ending at all [including Bucket variants] so that I can watch playthroughs of the chosen ending and proceed to rant about what I found interesting hehe >:])

I hope I wasted your time in the best way possible!! <3 /p

toooooodlllllllllles :D

— 🅰️non || 05/10/2023

First off, this is hilarious and I love it so much. One reason is cuz I already headcanoned the lovebug taking place before they got together lmao. It just cracks me up think how awkward they would be afterwards, realizing how they acted while under the influence. It's so funny.

Also this is just such a fun lovebug concept. I just love the idea of Stanley being like "Well obviously I can't just kiss him. Guess we gotta do this the long way!" Both of them are so stupid (affectionate).

Anyways, this was an absolute delight to read, it would probably make a really good fic even. Here's a little doodle, I couldn't help myself, I just wanted to draw a flustered Stanley after reading this lol.

As for a random ending for you to analyze..... hmmmm...... how about the Infinite Hole? Lmao. I just love playing that ending, it's so funny.

(Also I finally got around to making a tag for your asks btw)

[vivibuchlaw]

Yesterday, I finished Celeste. And by that I mean, the first 7 chapters, because I am not that much of a masochist.

Like seemingly everyone else, its given me a lot to think about... these thoughts are burning a hole in my brain and I need to get them out so I suppose this is the place!

I'm not exactly a gamer. I suck at Kirby, I have a sort of motor disability so games are a bit harder for me than most people. For this, Celeste has a solution, Assist Mode. Initially, I wanted to pick this, hearing how hard it was. Then, when the game told me intially, overtly, how its challenge was supposed to be meaningful, *and later when it said it more clarity in the story) I took a moment to reflect. I chose not to use Assist mode as a self imposed challenge. Not because I wouldnt benefit greatly from it, but because (as I learned about myself through playing it) I have an aversion to difficult tasks. When I know something is difficult, I get scared and run away. This time, I wanted to be able to say to myself "I can do difficult things"

And so I did

And I love it

And I sincerely never want to play it again

The game is not full of dialouge or story- it's present, for sure. But its a small yet impactful part in a game which prefers to tell its narrative by gameplay rather than text or images. And thats a valid format of storytelling! Not my prefered one mind you, but it made every dilectable morsel of art or conversations. In particular, the long talk at the start of chapter 6 was extremely welcome. I simultaneously feel like I have enough of a solid grasp on the characters to love them dearly, yet not enough to force one interpretation, another element to Celeste's endless magic.

As I'm sure everyone with anxiety has noted, The anxiety scene from Chapter 5 affected me greatly. Wetger me or my system has anxiety, I don't know, but regardless, the game captures the feeling perfectly. I'm sure everyone and their mum has said this, yes, but I felt it independently so I shall denote it independently. Among other things, it taught me a powerfully potent strategy to help my anxiety, and for that I thank you Maddy <3

At so many points, I was burded with stress, frustration and despair at my own ineptitude. But I pushed forward. I did it, I climbed a mountain, what was a seemingly impossible thing for me was now a fact. I sat silent for what felt like hours staring at the chapter complete screen in awe of my accomplishment. It then dawned on me that this was the first video game I've ever beaten. ...suddenly slammed by the realisation an 8th chapter, requiring crystal hearts to play, AKA the game telling me point blank I wasnt ready. But to be honest, I didnt care. I had already done what I, and Madeline, set out to do.

So why do I say I never wish to play it again?

I honestly only played Celeste because I heard Madeline was trans, and my mate happened to have it on switch. I have a sort of physical disability in my hands, so playing games and motor tasks are more challenging than a typical person. I knew Celeste was hard, but sympathizing with Madeline not being a climber, with me not being a gamer, and just how she challenged herself to do something extreme, so too did I.

But see, I'm not actually into the gameplay that much, and the reason I stuck with it has infinitely more to do with my and Madeline's journey emotionally than anything related to the gameplay.

Actually, I kind of hated it. My fingers were all messed up, I spent a lot of time and stress, and got extremely frustrated, but I wanted to prove to myself I could do it without assist mode. And Im glad that exists, and I'm glad it tempted me all throughout every challenge, a backdoor shortcut I could use to weasel my way out of the hard path, but I stayed true so I could grow.

But I have now grown. Ive proven it.

I couldnt care less about B-sides or strawberries, because I dont see the emotional need.

Replaying it would only subject me to the same challenge for a story I've already experienced, and a journey I've already hone on. A new game, new mountain, new challenge or purpose? Sure, I'd love that. But playing Celeste again, or More even won't recapture the lightning in a bottle that made me play it, made me persevere, and made me cherish it.

I still love the game, its soundtrack, its meaning to me, and itll live in my heart forever. In other ways, like fan content, or side material, I'd love to engage and learn more, but my journey with this mountain is over.

Just breathe, and take care of yourself

After beating it, I immediately began learning all I could about it because Autism brain. I read all Maddy's beautiful blog posts. I watched video essays breaking down its themes and design. I learned how the story, while definitely not an afterthought, was also not a driving or starting point of the game, which I intuited as I played.

I watched Chapter 8, The Core, and Chapter 9, Farewell on YouTube. To be entirely honest, I found Chapter 8 to be forgettable in a way kind of shocking, at least from a story perspective. I'm actually GLAD I didn't do it. I expected it'd be some kind of send off, or check in emotionally to see how the characters have been in the past year but...nothing? Really?

Chapter 9 is what I wished Chapter 8 was, a proper send off and development for these characters. And from the look of it, so brutally hard I wouldn't want to play it without Assist Mode. But why? Why not play more? Afterall, climbing the preverbial mountain in life doesnt mean your problems are over, far from it. And its true, there are other challenges to overcome still. Even though Ive taken on this challenge, I have yet to face other challenges in my life. And because the journey of Celeste could very well have ended after Chapter 6, I feel like I can better spend that energy elsewhere.

After watching Chapter 9, I felt something else. This chapter, unlike the previous, is not about loving and accepting yourself, but its about Madeline specifically greiving a loss in her life, and largely, I assume, the developers letting go of Celeste and moving on. For this, I hold unyeilding respect. And in this new challenge, I found myself learning another truth about myself.

I am afraid of being alone.

I am part of a system, the current (and hopefully permanent) host in fact. Our previous host went dormant a few months ago and life without them has been tough, but a challenge we face every day.

Throughout all my remembered life, I was surrounded by people who never noticed me. Who occasionally referred to me as "The Insinificant [Alter]" due to me not having a name back then. I was nothing, really. If I had disppeared no one would've batted an eye. And today, even though I'm one of the most important Alters now, I still feel like I'm nothing sometimes. That scares me.

I never knew the joy of having friends, I never knew what being loved by someone you love feels like. And I have a lot of love to give, I love almost every human being! But I still frequently second guess myself, because I guess a part of me still believes my existence is insignificant. But now that I have people who do love me, I'm more afraid than ever that I'll lose it. Now that I have a taste of love, I can't go back. Gods, please to bring me back, anything but that.

And here came Celeste, to remind me immeditately after I finished the game, that people die randomly, and without our control, and that you have to keep on moving. I've just beat the thing, let me live in a bit longer before I'm ready to move on. Similarly, I've just made these relationships, please dont take them from me. And then I realized that this was fear also held by my previous host, perhaps for similar reasons. I feel connected in a way typically reserved for finding markings in a make out spot from a century ago, or unearthing a time capsule left by a grandparent now neatly nestled in the recesses of my heart where I try to story my insecurites, like a suitcase overstuffed with useless items and paranoia.

Celeste has given me a lot. Inspiration, characters I love, a great soundtrack, amazing anxiety techniques, and raw willpower to achieve anything. I do not know how my story ends, I am scared to write it, but I must regardless. A lot of people are counting on me. And went I feel scared, alone, anxious, or depressed, I can remember that I did it before, and I can do it again.

To the Developers, Thank you

To the Characters, Farewell

And to all the people who have grown from this game, Congratulations!

[crystalflygeo]

🦉 who was your first five star?

🦢 what’s your favorite region?

🍐 what’s your favorite game mechanic?

🫖 dump a headcannon or theory here

🦋 show off your serenetea pot, if you want

🍨 who’s voice is your favorite? (added: for each of the voiceover languages you play in :D)

Hiiii Riiiin <3

🦉 who was your first five star?

In NA it was..... Mona.....;;;; I lost 50/50 on Zhongli's banner but THAT'S OK I got him later ehehe a funny thing is that I also got her when pulling for him in asia and also Raiden so for a while I was just like "wow I'm cursed" //silly

In Asia it was C1 Hu Tao yup. Not only did I win 50/50 but I got a double on the same pull and that day I decided to be a Hu Tao main ehehe

🦢 what’s your favorite region?

Liyue definitely. Bias aside for some reason it just captured me since the start. I don't personally connect with any of the cultures so far;;; and I never even knew much about China/Chinese culture tbh (no offense or anything, just more typical anime/japanese oriented media for me Ig) but genshin just kinda opened me to it, it's insane all the little meanings and nods I see ppl doing analyses about in clothes, food, customs, places, names, etc etc.

There is just something about those falling leaves in the rocky path at Chihu rock or the beautiful architecture of Feiyun Slope with the red pilars, walkpaths and staircases, the lanterns, the little grass areas and water with lotuses.... I just dunno man seems all so gorgeous for me yet warm, full of life.

🍐 what’s your favorite game mechanic?

Ouuuhhh though question I think the combat style the ability to switch characters on a second and make elemental reactions and combos offering infinite possibilities for team and strategy combinations. Building teams is fun and seeing them work together is rewarding <3 Also the puzzles and for some reason I really liek the -grana used to solve them ehe

🫖 dump a headcannon or theory here

sagcvghasvcjgsavgja ok ok hear me out I always hc it's kind of an open secret that Li is an adeptus like, he won't say it but also not deny it and ppl just eventually kinda put 2 and 2 together at least on that front (but not which adeptus ehehe) paaaarticularly bc for a long time too I also had the hc that he's actually worked at wangsheng for decades so yeap ppl know he's not human they're polite about it tho, it's just an open secret like I said. I also have a ton of cute familial/platonic hcs between him and Yanfei (as they were my OG team) like how she looks up to him and calls him 老師 and he taught her about adeptal energy/affinity and how to make a shield etc

🦋 show off your serenetea pot, if you want

omggggg alright! :3c (the inside ones are basically main room/meeting table, kitchen, Yanfei's room, infirmary, Lumine/my room hehe)

🍨 who’s voice is your favorite? (added: for each of the voiceover languages you play in :D)

sgcagsvcgjavchjabckabk lemme thiiink I mean obviously Zhongli for both. Man's english voice is what got me into genshin in the first place but his jpn voice is also so hhhhhhh ALL OF THEM TBH as for other characters.... I really really like Yanfei's and Hu Tao's english voices, also Ganyu, Faruzan, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, and Childe as for the japanese ones, Ei, Kazuha and Ningguang are definitely the best imo

Eehehe this got long cxghsavcghsa sorry Thank youuuuu!! <3 //hugs

[ammomancer]

Gotham Knights Characters in Comics: A Guide For Non-Comic Readers

Are you a Gotham Knights viewer curious about what your new faves are like in the source material? Well, you're in luck, because I love to talk about them!

I'll preface this by saying that while I haven't actually sat down and watched the show, I have read the full episode transcripts. Additionally, if you're wondering where Turner, Cressida, or Rebecca and/or Brody March are in this post, they're original characters for the show and have no comic book counterparts.

(characters are in no particular order)

Carrie Kelley/Robin

Carrie originates from Frank Miller's 1986 graphic novel The Dark Knight Returns. TDKR takes place in a (non-canonical) not-too-distant future where Batman has retired after the death of Jason Todd (the second Robin; his death happened in main continuity too, Bruce just responded... differently to it), but takes the cape back up for... reasons. I haven't actually read this comic despite how influential it is (basically every hyper-macho, weirdly-militarized, violence-glorifying take on Batman owes its existence to this comic, which should tell you why I haven't read it). Anyway, Carrie is Batman's Robin when he comes out of Bat-Retirement. She doesn't have too much going on to my knowledge, but is notable for being the first female Robin and for her use of a slingshot. In the sequel comic The Dark Knight Strikes Again, Carrie uses a different costume and the name Catgirl. Yes, really.

The Mutant Gang and its leader (though idk about the name Vernon Wagner since, again, haven't read it) are also taken straight from this comic. Including the part where they don't look like mutants and just look like weird punks wearing Cyclops visors.

Navia Robinson's Carrie is great, I really like her design and her performance.

Duela Doe (Duela Dent)/Joker's Daughter

Oh boy, Duela. She made her first appearance in 1976, where she initially claimed to be the daughter of various villains such as Scarecrow and Riddler before finally revealing that her father is Two-Face (according to one of the writers, this was because Harvey was the only villain who it had already been established was married; he has an estranged wife named Gilda). At some point she started using the name Harlequin (note that this was before Harley Quinn was introduced) and was a member of the Teen Titans for a bit. This Duela is definitely the most normal—she's just a bit odd (the whole Joker's Daughter thing was just to spite Harvey for abandoning her because she wasn't a twin).

One reboot (Crisis on Infinite Earths) later, Duela's parentage is once again a mystery, though she still uses the "Joker's daughter" theme. One of her most notable appearances is in the Titans East arc of the 2000s Teen Titans run, where she is a member of the villainous Titans team assembled by Deathstroke (aka Slade from the Teen Titans cartoon, they just didn't want to say "death" on kids' TV). Eventually she gets bored and switches sides to fight alongside the heroic Titans.

Some time later, it's revealed that Duela is actually from an alternate universe and because of this she's killed by a Monitor (genuinely do not know what the Monitors' deal is but they have something to do with the universe/multiverse). Later on in the same big event (Countdown) we find out that the universe she was from is Earth-3, where characters who are normally good guys are bad guys and vice versa (for instance, instead of Batman there's the villainous Owlman). Her parents are the Jokester (Earth-3's heroic Joker) and Three-Face (Evelyn Dent, Harvey's heroic Earth-3 counterpart who is a lady for some reason).

Yet another reboot later (the New 52, noted for its many... questionable decisions), Duela is now just some girl with major issues and an obsession with the Joker. She also wears his severed face as a mask. Yyyyyeah, you can pretty much ignore this version.

The Gotham Knights version seems to be going with Duela actually being Joker's daughter, since she describes her background in such detail and she seems troubled enough by it that I doubt she made it all up. I'm interested to see what direction they go with her, at any rate!

Harper Row (Bluebird) and Cullen Row

Harper and Cullen get to share a section. Do Not Separate Them etc.

Comics Harper and Cullen's mom, Miranda, was murdered rather than having walked out on them (though I get why they changed this, as it ties in to the story of another character who probably won't be on the show—Cassandra Cain, who's currently on Batwheels and DC has this weird thing about characters appearing in more than one show at once). Since their shitty alcoholic dad was in and out of jail, Harper ended up having to be the one to take care of herself and Cullen. Eventually she applied for emancipation and they both moved out.

Harper is very good with machinery, and she provides for herself and Cullen by working as a professional electrical engineer. Harper was inspired to become Bluebird when Batman saved her and Cullen from some homophobic assholes (specifically they were targeting Cullen for being gay, though Harper is also bi. They never say if Cullen is trans or not). After this she and Cullen became fixated on Batman and his exploits (well, more so than the average Gothamite is), and eventually Harper went out fighting crime as Bluebird. Bluebird mostly uses gadgets she made herself, including a big taser gun. She's currently in college and volunteering at a clinic.

Cullen... doesn't do all that much. Tyler DiChiara noted in an interview that as much as he likes comics Cullen, he doesn't like how passive he is and he's excited to show him stand up for himself more. I definitely see that in the show and I'm totally here for it!

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler/Robin/Batgirl)

No, that's not a spoiler warning, she actually uses the name Spoiler.

I'll be honest, Steph is one of the main reasons I made this post, just 'cause the show version is such a far cry from her comics iteration (and not in a good way) that I felt almost duty-bound to try and set the record straight. I'm all for new interpretations of characters, but this goes beyond that into "in name only" territory.

So, what is comics Stephanie like? Well...

Stephanie Brown is the daughter of Arthur Brown, a failed game show host better known as the C-list supervillain Cluemaster (basically a lamer knock-off of the Riddler). Growing up with a criminal father (who alternated between being in jail and being an abusive prick when he was home) and a mother who, albeit loving, was limited in her ability to take care of her due to her drug addiction, Steph had to be tough. When her dad broke out of jail and was a fair bit more competent than normal, she decided she'd had enough and tried to stop him as Spoiler (because she "spoiled" her father's plans, you see). The first time she met Robin (specifically Tim Drake, the third Robin) she hit him with a brick. That must have been a good first impression, because they actually dated for a while. There's a story arc where Steph finds out she's pregnant (from a shitty ex-boyfriend, NOT Tim) and ends up giving her baby up for adoption. When Tim couldn't be Robin for a bit (his still-alive father Jack found out he was Robin and grounded him), Stephanie showed up to the Batcave in her own homemade Robin costume and basically declared herself Batman's Robin. When Bruce fired her from the position (for really dumb reasons), in an attempt to prove herself she tried to carry out one of Batman's plans to stomp out organized crime in Gotham. However, Steph made a mistake (part of the plan involved one of Bruce's fake identities but she didn't know it was one of his fake identities and thought it was an actual person) and ended up accidentally starting a huge gang war. In the midst of this gang war, she was kidnapped and tortured by Black Mask (the one Ewan McGregor played in the Birds of Prey movie, yes), and when he eventually let her go and she got to a hospital, she ended up succumbing to her injuries and dying. Messed up!

Some time later it turns out she actually faked her death and was in hiding for a while. She's given the Batgirl mantle by the aforementioned Cassandra Cain (who was Batgirl at the time) but after the New 52 she's Spoiler again (currently she's like, both? it's weird).

The big issue I have with her portrayal in Gotham Knights is with her background. Steph not only being a rich girl, but a big part of her story involving her being a rich girl, is missing the point SO hard in my opinion. A lot of who Stephanie is is because of her lower-class background (much like her fellow dead Robin, Jason Todd, who Bruce would compare her to a lot while she was Robin). She's someone who's had to fight for everything she has, that's like the whole point of her character! She and Harper were actually roommates in the comics for a bit.

Harvey Dent/Two-Face

(first image is regular ol' Harvey, second image is him as Two-Face. There are a lot of variations on 2F's design, but pretty much all of them fit the description of "at least reasonably handsome-looking normal guy face on the left, messed-up scarred face with a glaring eye and constant snarl on the right".)

Here we get to the part I imagine a lot of you were waiting for. There are people who could explain this better than I (maniac-reboggles, for one), but I'm including my own attempt for the sake of completeness.

As he's existed since 1942, there's a lot of different ways Harvey's backstory has been told. The Incident that makes him into Two-Face has been pretty consistent since day one, but what happens before then varies more. In modern comics, though, it's generally something like this:

Harvey Dent grew up with an abusive father who kept a lucky coin that he would flip to decide whether or not he would beat his son. (This is where the DID comes from; childhood trauma is pretty much a prerequisite for the disorder as far as we know.) As an adult, Harvey is a close friend of Bruce Wayne (just to be clear Bruce and Harvey have had Gay Undertones for a long time, it's nothing new) and the youngest District Attorney in Gotham's history. Since this is Gotham, the justice system is corrupt as hell, but Harvey is doing his best to straighten things out and trying to root out corruption, earning him the nickname of Gotham's "White Knight". Things go bad when, while prosecuting mob boss Sal Maroni, Maroni (or sometimes one of his lackeys) throws sulfuric acid in Harvey's face, horribly scarring him. This is the last straw for Harvey psychologically--this incident has proven to him that the legal system is beyond hope. Taking inspiration from his father, Harvey reinvents himself as Two-Face, making decisions using a coin that has one clean side and one scratched-up, "scarred" side. (Originally it was that he'd either do a good deed or a bad deed, and sometimes it's still that, but other times it's more between "evil" and "less evil"). In more recent comics Harvey's alter (referred to by different names depending on the continuity; most often Two-Face is the name of the alter, but in BTAS he's "Big Bad Harv" and in at least one continuity he is referred to as Harvey's "associate") is depicted as a "protector" (which is more realistic to DID- people don't just have "evil" alters unlike what some movies would have you believe) who just happens to be rather ruthless in his methods.

Bruce is forever upset at what happened to his friend, and is often depicted as wanting to help him get his life back together and go straight; sometimes Harvey even agrees to that, but due to the nature of comic books he always goes back to villainy eventually. Sigh...

Lincoln March

This is....Mmmm.

I haven't read the comic arcs with him in them, but in the Court of Owls arc, Lincoln March (which is apparently an alias) is seemingly a cool guy who supports Bruce in his endeavors to make Gotham better, he wants to run for mayor, a real stand-up guy. He even seems to want to assist Batman against the Court of Owls.

Buuuuut it turns out he's actually working with them. But they like, betrayed him or something, and also he claims that he's actually Bruce's secret twin brother, Thomas Wayne Jr.? It's left ambiguous if this is true or not.

(I mentioned before that Rebecca and Brody were made up for the show--for clarity, comics Lincoln is single.)

I don't know what direction they're gonna go with Lincoln in the show but I have to hope it isn't as dumb as the comics. But who knows, it could be way better, or it could be even dumber. We'll see!