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#his reaction to the situation really didn’t match that interpretation as far as i can tell
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last post for the night i swear
the real tragic part about the whole science fair incident is that perpetual motion is impossible to achieve
ford’s machine would have never worked, regardless of whether or not stan had interacted with it
(warning i accidentally wrote an approximately 30-tag dive into ford’s character in the tags don’t click see more if you don’t want to read that)
anyway!! good night everyone ❤️‍🩹
#it’s also tragic because ford didn’t know#the impossibility of perpetual motion was discovered far before that point and yet he didn’t know#i mean. ‘he’s actually just so arrogant that he thought he could break the laws of physics’ doesn’t make any sense#his reaction to the situation really didn’t match that interpretation as far as i can tell#i don’t think it’s just a ‘oh no! my dream school (that i was essentially shoved into pursuing)!’ type deal#here’s what i’m thinking:#fact one- stan and ford were seemingly already drifting apart by this point in time. this is important to note#fact two- it’s really emphasized to him that he’s smart. that’s all they say about him really- that’s he’s a genius#fact three- filbrick does not even care enough about stanford to say his name. he calls ford his ‘ticket out of this dump’#these last two points were likely heavily emphasized to him throughout his childhood#filbrick found out ford was smart and thought stan wasn’t. so ford became his plan to make money#ford is heavily bullied for his weirdness. his hands and his interests. being smart could ‘make up’ for this in his mind#he wants to leave. he outright states this- he doesn’t feel like he belongs and he wants to go somewhere he does (his own bermuda triangle)#so what essentially happened- i believe- is that ford internalized all these things#that his weirdness is bad and that he makes up for it by being smart and that he’s meant to make his family money-#-and that he wants out#his machine fails. this is a slap in the face to him. perpetual motion is impossible?#but why didn’t he know that? he’s supposed to be smart isn’t he? if he isn’t smart then what the hell is he?#what redeeming qualities does he have? how is he supposed to help his family now? he’s a failure isn’t he?#he spots a familiar bag. stan was here. suddenly he has an excuse- a reason to believe it wasn’t his fault#(and there’s really nothing to be at fault for but he doesn’t think that)#it’s easier to blame it on stan because of how distant they’ve grown. he can’t read stan as easily#and his reaction is suspicious- did he actually sabotage the project? is it…actually not ford’s fault at all?#they don’t speak to each other again for another decade#stan because he’s afraid of rejection#ford because he doesn’t want to face his own insecurities and emotions about everything#it’s easier to pretend that he wants to be famous and isn’t just doing it to make it his father money#and it’s easier to distract himself with things he loves than to feel all the guilt and hurt and frustration#and that. is perfect for bill to use to manipulate him#that’s my thoughts anyway. sorry for the rant was not expecting that to happen
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serpenteve · 3 years
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why we ship darklina
an essay literally no one asked for
Nobody needs a "reason" to ship Darklina. But considering this is a villain x hero pairing, it got me thinking about why we shipped it in the first place when the narrative and author so badly wanted us to root for the more sensible alternative pairing and why it became the most popular ship of the entire trilogy.
Personally, I find it really interesting (and low-key hilarious) that a lot of the reasons shippers gravitated towards Darklina can be directly traced back to how badly Bardugo bungled Alina's character arc, Mal's entire characterization and narrative role, Nikolai's wasted potential as an alternative love interest, and the noble intentions she gives the the Darkling.
Alina's Character Arc
Alina's character arc doesn't match who she is as a character. I've written more about that in this post, but a lot of readers were introduced to a passive and insecure protagonist who we were expecting to undergo a typical YA coming-of-age character arc where Alina acquires self-acceptance, confidence, and embraces the full breadth of her powers over the course of the trilogy. Instead, Bardugo gave Alina the kind of character arc that's usually deserved for power-hungry anti-heroines or tragic heroes with a fatal flaw to punish.
The plot offers a strange binary: either Alina suppresses and hides her powers and therefore stays away from descending into villainy OR Alina attempts to find Morozova's amplifiers in order to defeat the Darkling but then becomes corrupted by power in the process. Alina's journey to self-acceptance and exploring her own powers are unfortunately entangled with her relationship with the Darkling. The only way she is allowed to move forward through the plot is to succumb to the corrupting influence of the amplifiers.
For better or for worse, the first character to really embrace her powers instead of thinking she's a fraud or that she's weak or that she's an unholy abomination is the Darkling. He's the first person to recognize her power for what it is and accurately judge its potential and implications for the rest of the world. He advocates for her in front of the royal court, in front other Grisha who think she's weak, and even against Baghra who is initially a very ill-tempered mentor with little to no faith in Alina's abilities. He even rather ironically advocates for her even when the heroic person who's supposed to be supporting her (Mal) does not.
At the start of her journey, Alina is insecure and in constant need of assurance and validation. The Darkling's role as her mentor and guide into this unfamiliar world of Grisha makes him the perfect advocate not only for her powers but also to help Alina see her place in the world. However, once he is revealed to be the villain, Alina also fails to realize that it's time for her to advocate for herself and throws the baby out with the bathwater.
Mal's Characterization & Narrative Role
When Alina loses the Darkling as an advocate in S&B, Mal steps up to take this role. Alina is still rather passive for the majority of the first book and it's Mal who originally wants her to have Morozova's stag as an amplifier if it will mean being able to stand against the Darkling. Bardugo intended for him to be a heroic love interest as a foil to the villainous love interest and I believe she mostly succeeds for the first book.
However, because this is a story about punishing Alina's "evil ambition" (despite there being very little evidence of that) Mal is supposed to serve as a voice of reason in the narrative. Once Alina considers the necessity of acquiring more amplifiers to defeat the Darkling, it is Mal's role to warn her of the potential consequences, to remind her of her inner humanity, and to ward against the corrupting influence of Morozova's amplifiers. Mal's declarations that he wants back the old girl he knew without any power is meant to drive an ideological wedge between them, yes, but he's also meant to be Correct™ because, again, Bardugo is writing a story about a corrupted power-hungry heroine who goes too far and needs to be punished rather than the arc we were all expecting and the one that Alina's character needs: a coming-of-age story of self-acceptance and personal growth.
Some point after the backlash of Siege & Storm, Bardugo seems to have become aware of her mistake and attempts to scrub Mal's character to be more sympathetic. There is a bizarre exchange half-way through the third book when Mal finally declares:
"I wasn't afraid of you, Alina. I was afraid of losing you. The girl you were becoming didn't need me anymore, but she's who you were always meant to be."
This is an interesting line because it's a complete reversal of Mal's narrative role so far. He's supposed to be her voice of reason that opposes her at every turn but readers interpreted him as being resentful of Alina's powers and angry that she was no longer dependent on him. Bardugo is forced to retcon Mal's entire role in the narrative from being a voice of reason that opposes Alina's quest for power to a supportive friend who will fight by her side. But this was never her initial intention and I believe this change was brought on 100% by audience reaction because she failed to understand the arc her heroine needed and the kind of story her audience was anticipating for such a character.
Needless to say, having your heroine's main love interest actively resent her quest for power until half-way through the third damn book did not endear many readers to Mal. Because Bardugo failed to understand the kind of character development her heroine needed and failed to understand audience expectations, we hated Mal. He became the embodiment of every toxic chauvinist we'd ever met who can't stand the idea of his partner's success and feels entitled to be the center of her universe. He was not the voice of reason. He was an annoying gnat hellbent on dragging the heroine down and away from her destiny. We did not want to root for him. Even the villain was more sympathetic than him because he could bring her closer to achieving the self-acceptance the narrative was obsessed with denying her.
Nikolai's Wasted Potential as a Solid Love Interest
Nikolai plays several roles in Alina's journey but most importantly in our discussions for why we ended up shipping Darklina, his entire potential as a serious love interest is wasted.
When we meet Nikolai, we have hitched our wagons to the Darklina train because despite being the villain, the Darkling is the only one who will allow the heroine to accept her powers and come into her own. Her heroic love interest, Mal, is actively sabotaging her efforts and holding her back from her true potential. But then, in swoops Nikolai and we pause, wondering if there may be a better heroic alternative after all?
In a lot of ways, Nikolai and the Darkling alike: they are eager for Alina's power and see her as a solution to all their problems. They may want to use Alina to prop up their own agendas, but unlike Mal, Alina's summoning powers are a massive plus, not a burden. Nikolai is the heroic alternative to our villainous Aleksander. So we wait, wondering if Nikolai will be the one to fix this mess of a romantic subplot. His royal connections offer an easy path to upwards mobility for our heroine and we sense that an alliance between them (even if it's initially political in nature) may bring our heroine closer to obtaining more power, influence, and self-acceptance not only for herself, but also for the oppressed minority she is a part of.
But, again, Bardugo is still obsessed with that "punish the heroine for wanting power" agenda so while Nikolai exists as another mentor figure who offers Alina advice on how to rule, how to appeal to other people, how to charm, how to win people over, and Alina learns and applies much of what she learns from him, he is not treated as a real love interest.
Despite Nikolai being written as a fairy tale prince (handsome, charming, smart as a whip, brave in battle, etc) Alina never actually considers him romantically. They are friends and allies at best and the only time she considers kissing him is only when she's pissed about Mal.
Nikolai's proposal at the end of Ruin & Rising feels like one last saving grace, one last opportunity for our heroine to take control of her life and make a dramatic change to break from the past. But this too is rejected because Alina's arc will never let her access any power. She does not reject Nikolai because she wants to marry for love. She rejects him because she has been "punished" for wanting power and has internalized that she must not seek any more power for fear of angering the plot gods (and Bardugo). She must return to being nobody in order to remain a good and moral person.
(And, of course, we resent Mal even more because who in their right mind would choose him over Nikolai? Once again, he becomes a roadblock on our heroine's journey to power. We grow irritated that the heroine is failing to grasp an opportunity to elevate herself. We throw the book against the wall. Why are we even following this heroine?)
The Darkling's Motivations
Still, all of the above might still not have been enough to pull the reader to the villain's side. But the Darkling is the living embodiment of Villain Has A Point™. He is not pure unadulterated evil. He is not Lord Sauron or Voldemort or the Terminator.
He's more Magneto, Roy Batty, or Ozymandias---a man who is part of an oppressed minority who longs for justice and power but is absolutely unhinged in his methods.
Alina runs away because she does not want to be a non-consenting weapon in hands. But we always end up wondering what would have happened had Baghra not warned her. What would have happened if Alina gladly joined the Darkling's side? There's hundreds of fanfics written precisely about this situation because despite the villainy of his methods, we wonder if Ravka might not have been safer after all?
If the Darkling had used the Fold as a weapon against Fjerda and Shu Han, would any of the problems Ravka faces in the later books even exist? Would any Grisha fall victim to the khergud programs or be killed as witches? The Darkling wipes out Novokribirsk and kills hundreds of lives, but how many would he have saved with the Fold as Ravka's greatest shield and sword? 🤷🏽‍♀️
And therein lies the problem with the trilogy inconsistent moral landscape. The Darkling is an anti-villain that exists in a narrative that is very black and white, unlike the rest of the books in the Grishaverse where our protagonists are anti-heroes who kill, steal, and torture their way through the plot with nary a judgmental glance from the narrative. We long to see our heroine give in to her dark side and get her hands dirty because watching a naive, passive, scared little girl grow into a ruthless powerful Grisha would have made for a hell of a compelling story.
But that's not the story Bardugo wanted to tell.
The Greg Trilogy
Despite taking place in a fantasy Tsartist setting, the Grisha trilogy is oddly anti-Grisha. The narrative doesn't spend much time trying to examine the context or implications of an oppressed minority group fighting for power other than to say "magic powers = evil". Nikolai skates by on a throne of inherited wealth, privilege, and imperialism but it's okay because he's charming and witty and the only monstrous part of him is the Darkling's curse. Literally everything is worse for Ravka and their Grisha after the destruction of the Fold but Ravka must move forward into a new age without relying on Grisha power but putting their efforts into new muggle technologies. Alina must be stripped of her powers and returned to her "old self" in order to be purged of evil.
Basically, it's all one gigantic ✨ dumpster fire ✨ of mismatched character arcs, incompatible moral aesops, inconsistent characterizations, wasted potential, unexamined plot points but it's a a dumpster fire we lovingly and spitefully embrace in fanfic.
We don't ship Alina with the Darkling because we're stupid abuse apologists who somehow missed the giant flashing moral aesop of the books---and honestly, who could have possibly missed them when it's shoved in the reader's face every other chapter? We ship Alina with the Darkling because the entire ship is the embodiment of wasted potential (and wasted ✨aesthetics✨ tbqh 👀). We ship Alina with the Darkling because we're sick and tired of stories where female power is demonized. We ship Alina with the Darkling because the plot gave us literally no other alternative to see our heroine succeed except to give in to her alleged villainy.
But most of all, people ship Darklina because Leigh Bardugo utterly failed in writing the story she intended to write because had she succeeded, Darklina would not be the most popular ship of the trilogy.
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trentaafcsblog · 3 years
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Little Miss Heartbreaker
Chapter 1 - First Impressions Always Count
“Thank you” you’re whispering to the taxi driver, cringing at how quietly the compliment comes out before you’re trying to repeat it even louder. Your voice cracking with nerves as he raises his eyebrows at you, nodding his head as a way of acknowledging your efforts before signalling towards the open door that you’d been clinging onto for far too long now. Muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ as you push it to and watch him give you a very over-dramatic thumbs up accompanied by a fake smile, turning yourself away from him as a blush starts taking over your cheeks and you feel sweat pricking along your spine. The crunching gravel beneath the taxi tyres making you jump slightly as your gaze follows the car which is now speeding off in the other direction, leaving you stood there completely on your own in front of a huge building that was meant to be your ‘home’ for the next few weeks.
Your eyes are studying the building stood before you, scanning over each and every window before lifting to look at the huge letters sprawled out just above the top floor. ‘ST GEORGE’S PARK’ written in a bold font, almost shouting at you, letting you know exactly where you are and what you’re about to get yourself into as you take one final deep breath and start making your way towards the huge double doors. Trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t going to swallow you up and then spit you back out into your ‘ordinary’ life, one that didn’t match up to the standards of the people you were going to be spending the next few weeks with, but that battle with your mind doesn’t last long.
“Fuck” you mutter to yourself as the wheels on your suitcase get stuck in the tiny little stones, jolting your arm back before you’re having to use all of your strength to free it from the gravel. Pacing up the steps in front of you and trying your best to look all strong and unfazed by the fact that you’ve nearly just ripped your shoulder out of its socket. Happening to trip on the top step before your bag goes tumbling back down the concrete slabs and undoes itself, an array of highly unattractive underwear now decorating the entrance to the England National Team’s training camp. That same furious blush coming back to take over your body as you pray that nobody has just seen you, racing towards your suitcase and shoving your belongings in there like there’s no tomorrow before a shadow starts to approach before you.
“Do you need some help?” a voice says as you fumble with the zip on the suitcase, an awkward cough leaving their mouth after a very long silence, gaining your attention as you force yourself to look up at them.
“Sorry, I, um...” you start before realising who it is that’s talking to you. Your voice trailing off at the end as you take in all of their features and watch them come towards you and crouch down on the step above before reaching forward to take the handle of the suitcase. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do that” you manage to say as your voice cracks again mid-way through, wishing that the ground would swallow you up as you mentally face palm yourself, but he’s extending his hand and signalling for you to take it.
“I know I don’t have to but I want to” he says as he helps you up off the gravel. “Oh, and I’m Marcus, by the way” he finishes before dropping your hand from his so that you can brush the dirt away from your knees. Somehow managing to fight the urge to say ‘I know’ as you try and act as though you hadn’t been stalking his, or any of the other lads’, Instagram accounts for the last couple of months, not to mention the countless hours you’d spent on Wikipedia trying to remember as many unnecessary facts about him as you could. Almost blurting out the number of appearances he’d made for the England U16s back in 2012, but you decide to settle for something less forward as you give him a shy smile and introduce yourself instead.
“I’m Y/N” you say as you follow him up the steps, making a conscious effort to keep your eyes glued to the concrete stairs incase you trip up again, but you’re too focused on what your feet are doing to notice that he’s stopped right in front of you, your head ploughing into his bum as he jolts forward slightly at the contact.
“I’m so sorry” you panic as he just laughs at your reaction. Something in his eyes making you relax and see the funny side of it too as you let out a breathy chuckle and try to disguise your shyness.
“It’s a good job you’re a doctor” he starts as he pulls your suitcase towards the double doors. “My arse is pretty hard so at least you’ll know how to soothe your headache” he says before turning around to look at you. Matching smiles appearing on both of your faces before his words are registering in your head. A million and one questions flooding your brain as you try to process how Marcus fucking Rashford knows who you are and what your role is. Completely unaware of the fact that your eyebrows are furrowing together in a confused expression whilst you try and figure out a potential explanation, staring straight back at him without even realising as he gently sways from side to side to try and break your trance.
“You alright?” he asks, worrying that he’d offended you or something as he watches your eyes go wide and that same blush take over your cheeks again. Shaking your head before going to tell him about how you’re lowkey fangirling over the fact that he knows who you are, but you’re managing to stop yourself just in time.
“No, I- um, sorry, I’m just nervous” you say as you notice him relax at your words. His eyes softening with empathy before he’s giving you a half-smile and reaching his hand out for yours again.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about, we’re all really excited to meet you and you’ve made quite the entrance so I’m sure that you’ll fit right in with us crazy bunch” he jokes as you giggle at his comment. Taking his hand and letting him lead you into the lobby, looking over your shoulder to catch one final look behind you before stepping over the threshold into a whole new world.
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Eeek! I can’t believe I’m finally sharing this with you all after working on it for what feels like forever 🥰 I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that you’ll stick around to see what Y/N gets up to next and what other awkward situations she finds herself in 😅 I’d love to know what you all think and what your opinions are, or where you think this is going (I know it’s a bit early to tell just yet) because any sort of feedback is hugely appreciated, plus I’d love to know how you’ve all interpreted it or how you think it might pan out 🤍 thank you all so much for sticking by me for another story, I hope it fulfils all of your wishes and that you’ll be around for many more, I love you all so much 🦋 x
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aobakukkii · 4 years
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Wanna hold hands?
Bokuto x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Bad jokes
Male Reader
Word Count: 1748
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You shouldn't have to worry about this. You shouldn't act like a 12 year old walking next to his first crush... Wait were your feelings actually much different?  
Anyway Bokuto and you decided to go to a Christmas Market together to fulfill some foodie dreams of yours and only a few minutes separated you from your date destination. Well it wasn't one officially, but this couldn't stop you from dreaming, because all hope for not hopelessly pining on the owl boy was gone for a long time. So it was only natural to indulge in your feelings.
Bokuto and you first met on a mutual friends hang out in a park many months ago. Just after you arrived however, your friend who came a bit earlier soon volunteered for the "Oh f*ck we don't have anything... Let's get some drinks!" group mission to the nearest supermarket which left you awkwardly standing at the sidelines. Two small groups had already formed, involved in whatever topic they were talking about and you being to shy to disturb anyone just played with your phone for awhile. At least until a guy way too big to go unnoticed plopped up besides you.  
"Hey you're friends with f/n aren't ya? My name is Koutarou."
You just nodded for the first statement "I'm y/n" you quietly responded.  
"Oh cool where did you meet them?"  
Introducing yourself was normally an incredibly awkward situation, but somehow it felt natural with this guy. He kept a flow of conversation, getting to know your daily responsibilities and hobbies among other things. It didn't feel forced or like he just wanted someone to yak at or anything, he kept everything on a level that made you feel comfortable although you barely knew him, except for the few things he mentioned like his huge interest in volleyball.
The spiky haired boy was genuinely interested in anything you told him and even hyped some of your interests as well.
With him you were more or less smoothly introduced back into the (luckily) small group he left earlier and despite the fact that you felt uncomfortable with all the attention of the others in the beginning, his huge presence while talking quickly took this burden away from you. For socializing with new people, it was an incredibly alright experience.  
As it turned dark he offered you to join them go and play video games at his place and even if you would have normally declined such a request from new people, "Yes" felt just right.
Looking back at it now, the massive amount of praise you received from Bokuto for your skill made the decision even better. Especially when the praise came from a guy who would deserve the title pro himself.
In general Bokuto became your hype man in no time. You could just breath and he would still be like "Yas that's my boy!".  
This wasn't anything special in particular, he was supportive of the people around him and especially his friends, but to you his intensity towards felt special. He made you feel special. And now you wanted to be his special one and make him feel just as special and happy as he made you.
However you were worried that you misread his kindness towards you. Because he really treated everyone that he liked amazing, that's just the kind of person he is. This big chunk of love called Bokuto's heart is the reason why you fell for him, but it was also was where all your anxieties came from.  
Back to the present at hand, Bokuto's hand was what you were drawn to in particular. You never wanted to grab anything that badly in your life. The thought of holding his hand made you all giddy.  
Focusing on it was another challenge you had to face, since that guy swung his arms around a lot when he was excited to go somewhere, which happened quite often. Luckily, he was focused on the story he was telling you and looking at the illuminations so your starring went unnoticed.  
That until one of his swings touched your arm and more importantly, your hand.  
"Oh sorry I wasn't paying attention" Bokuto laughed. He stopped his movements and slowed down his step a bit.  
"It's fine" you giggled to hide your massive inner panic. His hand just touched yours!  
"Hey hey hey we should focus more on the lights there! You see those around the tree over there? They remind me of your eyes bro."
You just hummed and mumbled a silent "thanks" in response, being blessed with the chance to look towards the lights on your right to hide your face from him.  
Stuff like this wasn't usually included in the all-inclusive hype man package for you. And it made your cheeks heat up even more than his usual compliments. In the past Bokuto loved to tell you that you were cute, saying that you're shy reaction to the compliment just made you even cuter.  
Honestly Bokuto crossed the line to teasing hype man a long time ago and threw really flattering stuff at you like spikes at the opponent in a game whenever he felt like it, but this was a first. He never said anything directly about your looks. In fact you never heard him point out anyone's looks like that. You heard "handsome" and "pretty", but never something specific.  
"I mean it, I never saw someone whose eyes were sparkling like yours."  
This was straight up flirting at this point.  
You hid your face behind your hand, still looking away.  
"Kou seriously stop it."  
"Can't help it if it's true."  
You knew Bokuto was good in reading you, but you thought your crush and the insecurities with it were a secret. At least until now. This setting, this compliment, the smooth delivery. You were maybe anxious about the topic of love, but not that dense. This was his sign that you were special to him.  
He did his part, so now it was time to do something yourself.  
A mix of the compliments' confidence boost, your newfound view on his feelings and the still present panic and shyness robbing you of the ability to think or act like a normal human being, you drew the most genius conclusion you had in a while. If you swing your arm a bit and touch his hand again and again, he might read you once again and notice your wish to hold hands and you guys can live happily ever after.  
"100% risk free strategy dude" you thought to yourself.  
A comfortable silence was in the air as you continued your walk. You could already see the market, but it was still far enough away to be heard clearly. Bokuto was admiring the view around you, the illuminations being his favorite part of each December.  
You tried to give it a shot. You slightly swung your arm and hit his hand with yours, so slightly that it just seemed like something that would happen normally.
Bokuto didn't react in the slightest and you were not sure if he even noticed it, but you weren't giving up just yet. Your childish tactic deserved some testing before being discarded. So you did it again with the same force and the same result. Time to step up your game.  
You planned on a slightly increased force for the next one, which your body executed as "Tackle that hand like it's a Rattata." A now fainted Rattata at that, because Bokuto suddenly stopped walking and looked directly at your face. You had just enough time to conclude that you can't read his expression at all before avoiding your face. Your mind worked on a quick list on of how often you should apologize for this awkward moment, hoping that he would interpret it as a mistake. Judging by his face and the awkward pause right now however, he noticed what you were going for, which was honestly impressive from this stupid plan. You really wanted to apologize right away, hoping that the embarrassing gesture didn't ruin your chances with him.  
Before you could say a word however, you saw a big hand around yours. You couldn't possibly believe your eyes, if not for the squeeze you felt and a small motion upwards, bringing your face to a happy and slightly pink Bokuto.  
"Geez all I wanted was a small confirmation from you before starting anything, but I didn't think you would be the type to go all the way" he said his voice although more quiet than his usual one still matched the grin on his face. "You could have asked as well you know?"  
"I just... Didn't feel like it?" you laughed between your words, being overwhelmed by the sudden confession.
Bokuto quickly pulled you to the side of the street, not wanting to accidentally block the path of anyone else right now and to give the two of you a tiny bit of more privacy.
"Y/n I really wanted to confess to you for a long long time, but I didn't dare to say anything before I could be sure that you were interested." He started rocking your arms slightly.
"When I have my moods and try to hide from the world, you're the first to come to seek me and pull me back up again. When I'm loud, you're the one who listens to my rambling anyway. I discovered so many cool games and shows thanks to you and, most importantly, I can count on you whenever I'm at my low and my highs. You make me feel special y/n, and I really didn't want to destroy that without a clear sign of you feeling the same way."
The rocking stops as he slowly starts to stroke your hand with his thumb.
"This wasn't the one I expected, but again that makes you special. Just like you make me feel." he chuckled. "Man I can't really explain it, can I just show you?"
His unoccupied hand pressed against you back, pulling you closer to his body. You were glad that he took the lead from here on because you were complete lost in the moment. He bent down to capture your lips with his. It was bit clumsy due to your excitement, but still sweet and it definitely showed what Bokuto intended.
You pulled away with flushed faces, both unable to hide your smile.
"This is what I had in mind"
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AN: So this completely self-indulgent fic is actually based on two dreams I had. When I already dream like in Fan-fictions, I might as well write them.  
Feedback would be highly appreciated. Thank you for reading ❤️
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balaroo · 3 years
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Negative Reinforcement
Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku one shot.
Summary: Bakugou Katsuki was the last person who should be picked to give emotional support- especially when he's stuck in a hospital room and bored out of his mind, but Izuku had shut down after their battle with Shigaraki, blaming himself for not being able to stop the carnage. When not even their classmates can pull him out of his mood Katsuki takes it into his own hands.
Aka, Katsuki has to cheer up Izuku and it goes surprisingly well.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Worried Bakugou Katsuki, he's trying his best, It Can Be Read As Platonic But Who Am I Kidding, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Cuddling, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, Post War Arc, not spoiler free, no beta we die like nighteye, this is so self indulgent you have no idea, Depressed Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Feels Guilty, One Shot, short and sweet
Author’s Notes: I'm not really happy with how this turned out honestly. I loved the idea but I struggled to write it well, forgive me. Anyway, wanted to post it before the leaks for the new chapter come out and break me. This is my fluffy interpretation of what should happen but watch Hori stamp on my dreams.
Set right after chapter 296, there are many spoilers ahead and a few guesses about what will happen next! Thank you for reading and please leave some constructive feedback if you can! I'm still very new to writing fics like this.
Cross posted on my AO3 account, the link to which is in my bio if you’d prefer to read it there.
Rest of the work below the line!
Negative Reinforcement
If there were two things Katsuki hated more than he hated everything else the first would be hospitals. The sour smell of disinfectant that clung to each surface and the constant background hum of machines slowly drove him insane, that combined with Katsuki's own opinion that he'd spent enough time in the damned places already did not make them appealing to him. The second most hated thing would be dealing with other people's emotions. Hell- it was tiring enough having to figure out his own, let alone being expected to somehow know what other people were feeling and even if he got that bit right he was still meant to act accordingly. It was exhausting, so he tried to avoid it whenever he could. In this situation, avoiding it was not possible.
When Katsuki first woke up his thoughts had been jumbled, fleeting and fearful, considering the last thing he could remember was bleeding out in a ruined city it seemed fair enough. The room had been dark, cast in shadow with only the soft flashing lights of various medical devices to give any indication that Katsuki hadn’t been thrown into a void. He’d tossed fitfully in the hospital bed for a second, not quite grasping his surroundings and cried out as white-hot pain shot across his chest as if someone were tugging on his insides. “Kacchan?” The familiar voice was quiet but echoed with desperation and Katsuki frantically sought out its source, twisting his head, eyes finally adjusting to the gloom until he could make out a dark mound on the far side of the room that was moving. Katsuki finally separated the figure from the pile of blankets and pillows, ruffled hair stuck out in all directions and if he tried hard enough, Katsuki had been able to make out the faint gleam of green eyes piercing through the darkness locked directly onto him. “Thank goodness.” Izuku breathed as he saw Katsuki twist to look at him, his form slumped again, fading back into the shapeless mass of the hospital bed and Katsuki twitched anxiously in response. He felt completely disorientated, the thoughts in his head were moving too fast to pin down.
He’d tried to respond but his mouth felt dry and his tongue heavy, barely managing to rasp Izuku’s name in a thick croaky voice he wasn’t sure the other could even hear, struggling to lift the medicated fog that wrapped heavily around his mind like a thick blanket. Mingled feelings of relief and fear flitted around his head as he began to remember the carnage and bloodshed- Izuku was here, he had made it out and that alone calmed Katsuki enough to relax back into the bed. But what about everyone else?  Their classmates had been fighting their own battles all over the city. He had barely been able to focus but managed to form a few words, “The others?” Each breath, every swallow and twitch of his head sent fresh waves of pain rippling through his body, black spots threatened to overcome his vision but he fought through it. He could almost feel the other boy hesitating, it made him more distressed. “The class is fine.” Izuku had told him at last in a heavy voice, “You should go back to sleep.” Katsuki could remember thinking how defeated the other teen sounded. He’d ground his teeth together, feeling frustration building in the pit of his stomach that he was so helpless, unable to do anything more than shake and let his eyes fall shut again, slipping back into a fitful rest.
He woke the next day, feeling much more himself and determined to find out exactly what had happened but was immediately shut down by Recovery Girl who insisted he had to stay in bed or risk an even longer ban from training. Though, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to stand up, let alone shake someone down for answers. Katsuki then tried to interrogate Izuku about it but the freckled nerd was annoyingly quiet for a change, spending most of his time with his back to Katsuki facing the bare white walls of the room. It was worrying, to say the least. Katsuki tried to tell himself that Izuku was just recovering from the wounds he’d sustained from All For One, damage that might not ever heal according to Recovery Girl. Izuku might never be able to use his arms in battle again.
Another day crawled by insufferably slowly. The only people allowed in their room had been Recovery Girl and a few different nurses who would bring food and water, all of which had clammed up the second Katsuki tried to ask them for news. He was frustrated with being talked over again and again, his hands tingled with a need to blow something up. So even by his own standards, he was in a lousy mood when their classmates were finally able to visit. Recovery Girl had forbidden the entire class from coming, “Only a few at a time.” She’d said as she’d been checking on their bandages, “If either of you reopens your wounds then I’ll have to put in overtime, and I won’t be quite so nice.” Katsuki snorted, tapping his fingers against the side of the bed impatiently. He’d spent the morning trying to coax a conversation out of Izuku. Well, not so much coax as annoy or tease, but they were solid tactics that usually got a reaction. Today, however, he got nothing more than one-word replies until Katsuki had gotten so annoyed he’d just given up completely. He’d prefer it if Izuku would just yell at him, yelling he understood. Just say Katsuki had made him mad, anything other than this stony silence. It had Katsuki on edge.
He was brought back to the present as he saw Izuku move so he was sat up in the bed facing the door. Katsuki could finally see his face properly for the first time. It looked drawn and tired, eyes that were usually bright stared blankly at the wall and there were dark bags under them. Katsuki briefly wondered how much Izuku had actually been sleeping while he was turned away from him. He thought again about trying to get his attention but then the door swung open, banging against the wall noisily and making Recovery Girl tsk in irritation. Iida was the first through the door, his face was still bruised slightly in places and his wrist had some kind of support on it but other than that he seemed okay. “We are here to represent the class!” The dark-haired teen announced. His good hand gripped a mixture of brightly coloured heart-shaped balloons all with ‘ Get well soon!’ scrawled across them. Katsuki’s eye twitched. He’d never wanted to leave a room more than he had at this moment. The others were filing in now. Including Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero were the first ones who’d come to see them. They all bore marks of the battle in some way shape or form. Todoroki had a bandage wrapped around part of his face and Kirishima’s left arm was heavily bandaged. The rest had scratches that had been taped up but it was their expressions that made Katsuki realise something was wrong.
They entered the room with forced smiles which were surprisingly eerie and didn’t match the dullness in their eyes. They all looked so tired. Though when they saw Katsuki and Izuku both sat up in their beds, watching them, they did seem to brighten up. Mina was the first to move forwards, dropping to perch on the edge of Katsuki’s bed with a loud exhalation, “You two had us all worried!” Iida was now tying his balloons to the leg of a table between the two beds and Uraraka hurried forwards carrying an assortment of chocolate that she put on the table as well. She then turned to Izuku with a nervous smile. He was regarding their classmates with a far-away look in his eyes but he did meet Uraraka’s gaze. “We uh- got those mint chocolates you like.” She began awkwardly, “How are you feeling?” Katsuki watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. He could tell she was taken aback by Izuku’s state but she was doing a poor job of hiding it. For a moment Katsuki wasn’t sure if the green-haired boy was even going to respond, then, at last, he smiled faintly, though it seemed more like a grimace, and said, “I’m okay.” A brief rush of relief hit Katsuki as he saw the boy sit up a little more, though he still had that glazed expression.
Then Katsuki’s view of them was blocked by Sero and Kirishima who moved a few of the visitors' chairs to crowd around his bed. “It’s so good to see you, man!” Kirishima exclaimed, he had a grin on his face and patted Katsuki on his non-bandaged shoulder as he sat down. “They told us you guys were fine but they wouldn’t let anyone come near you. Are you doing okay?” Katsuki growled and picked at a spot on his bedsheet where the thread had come loose, “I’m just about ready to break out of here, consequences be fucked.” Sero chuckled sympathetically and glanced around at the very clean, very sparse room, “Pretty bored then huh?” Katsuki’s patience was thinning rapidly. He was glad to see them all in one piece but if he had to walk around social niceties to get a straight answer from someone he really was going to lose it. “Not just that,” He snapped, “No one here will tell me anything. What the hell happened after the battle?” He didn’t miss the way Mina caught Kirishima’s eye with a startled expression as he turned to look at each of them in turn. When no one offered up a quick answer Katsuki had to stifle another growl, they were holding something back from him and he knew it. “I know we’re here because the bastard set his Nomu’s loose or whatever and they thought they’d come after us, but why hasn’t anyone told us anything? All Mig-” Katsuki broke off and stared bitterly at his hands. He’d been about to say All Might hasn’t even been to see Deku but he didn’t want Izuku to overhear him. He could hear Todoroki talking faintly in the background so he hoped the other invalid teen hadn’t been listening to him about to point out the obvious but Katsuki was mad the former symbol of peace hadn’t been to see them yet. If anyone could pull Izuku out of whatever stupid funk he was in, it would be All Might.
“Bakugou…” Kirishima started warily, “A lot happened, we’re-” He stopped mid-sentence and glanced helplessly at Sero. “We’re not supposed to say much.” Sero finished for the redhead, “They said you needed more time to heal befo-” “Fuck that.” Katsuki snarled, his stomach was twisted into knots with anticipation. He wanted to stomp his foot like a child. Maybe break something against a wall. If they left without giving him any answers he didn’t know how much longer he’d have to wait to have another chance. They were all watching him with concern and Katsuki realised he’d been gripping the covers tightly in his fists. He let go quickly but he’d already left scorch marks smouldering in the pale blue sheets. He struggled to relax his jaw and tried again, “If I have to lie here one more day without knowing what’s going on out there, I really will get out of bed and find out myself. That sound like a great way to heal to you?”
It was Sero who broke first, “I guess, I don’t think I could stay still either.” He admitted, looking at Kirishima who sighed but murmured in agreement. “He does have a point,” Mina said from where she was still sitting at the end of the bed, “And I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak out.” She stuck her tongue out playfully as Katsuki glowered at her, but he was silently glad to see her acting normal. Kirishima breathed out heavily, slumping forwards in the chair and meeting Katsuki’s gaze. “What do you want to know first?” “How is everyone?” Katsuki asked immediately, “We could only get them to tell us no one else from the class was in hospital but that was pretty much it.” Smiling softly, Kirishima nodded, “Everyone’s okay. Kaminari wanted to come today but he’s still on bed rest.” He waved a hand as Katsuki opened his mouth, “Just in his dorm. He got a pretty bad knock to the head but he’s fine, really.” Katsuki closed his mouth and eyed the others quietly. There was still something they hadn’t told him, he could see it in their faces, in the smiles that looked too fake and the unspoken grief he could feel around them.
“What happened?” Was all he asked, “Something went wrong, didn’t it?” He could almost see their facade’s failing, Kirishima wouldn’t meet his eyes now and seemed very interested in his hands while Sero leaned further back into his chair, tugging subconsciously at the hem of his shirt. Mina’s head dropped and Katsuki could see her bottom lip trembling as she stared down at the floor, when Kirishima offered a hand to her she took it and clutched it tightly, like a lifeline. Her entire demeanour changed in a few short moments. Whatever had happened, it really distressed her. There was another silent moment before Kirishima started talking again, “You were there when Aizawa sensei was hit with a quirk deleter round?” Katsuki nodded grimly, “He took his own leg off, I saw.” The redhead winced, “He’s still recovering, it was bad.” “But he’ll be okay?” It was Sero who answered, “We haven’t been able to see him yet but Shinsou said he’s doing better.” Katsuki wanted to relax but the other’s tone of voice sounded heavy. “There’s something else…” Kirishima began, “When we were trying to keep Gigantomachia from reaching the city we…” Another deep breath and his bright red eyes looked watery. “We lost Midnight.” Mina’s shoulders shook and her body convulsed in a choked sob but Katsuki could only stare in disbelief. Midnight had been their teacher for almost a year, she couldn’t just be gone. Katsuki’s focus wavered, his mind drifting. He could tell from their reactions what they meant and felt a deep pit open in his stomach. After everything that had happened, all the fighting, he never thought they’d actually lose someone. God, he was fucking naive.
The others gave him a little while to process it and Katsuki found himself wishing for the umpteenth time that he was anywhere else. “Bakugou?” Sero asked eventually and Katsuki quickly returned his attention to them. Mina’s eyes were red around the edges and he knew now why they all looked so drained. “How did it happen?” He managed to ask. His body felt oddly numb but when he spoke his voice sounded unsteady, even to himself. Mina leant forwards and breathed out shakily, “W- we don’t really know. We hadn’t heard from her and then we just found her, lying there.” Tears trailed down her pink cheeks and she lifted her free hand as if she was reaching for something. “I was- I held her hand.” Her voice ended in a whisper, dark eyes hazy. Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. He didn’t like being confined in one space for moments like this, it made him feel nervous as if he were trapped. Kirishima was trying to comfort Mina though he seemed just as broken down himself. Sero watched them sadly for a moment before glancing back at Katsuki, “Other heroes were killed too. No one we knew well but they got the number 6 hero, Crust.” The dark-haired teen hesitated before continuing as if he wasn’t sure how much he should say. “Most of the big heroes are out of action. Hawks and Endeavour are still in bad condition, Miruko as well. But they’ll heal.” He sounded unsure of himself. The numbness settled a little deeper into Katsuki and he closed his eyes. All the destruction he’d seen from Shigaraki’s quirk and then Gigantomachia tearing the city apart, he didn’t want to ask about civilian casualties.
There was silence then, nothing more to say really. Sero returned to consoling the other two, whether he was unsure of how to do the same for Katsuki or thought the blonde wanted the space Katsuki couldn’t tell, but he was grateful for it. During the break from their conversation, he tried to focus on what his other classmates were saying to Izuku. They’d arranged themselves near the freckled teen’s head and Uraraka was saying something in an upbeat voice. “Recovery Girl said you’d be okay to go outside for a bit,” the round-faced girl was saying, “Stretch your legs, maybe see Eri. She’s worried about you.” Todoroki and Iida murmured agreement but Katsuki could make out Izuku’s face between Kirishima and Sero now, he still had his eyes fixed downwards with that subdued look on his face. Katsuki wondered if they’d told Izuku about Midnight or if they thought he couldn’t handle it yet. “Maybe.” Izuku replied, Katsuki was vaguely relieved to hear this voice sounding a little louder, “I’m still really tired.” Uraraka and Iida exchanged glances. “We can uh- leave you to rest a bit more?” Iida asked though he sounded like he didn’t want to. When Izuku simply nodded mutely and settled back down into the bed, turning to face his back to them, Iida’s face fell. He said something quietly to Todoroki and Uraraka that Katsuki couldn’t make out but the three of them got up and made their way dejectedly towards Mina and the others. Katsuki wanted to yell at them to keep talking to him but he just stared worriedly at Izuku’s back, if he was refusing to talk to his friends, how could Katsuki get him to say anything?
Uraraka joined Mina at the foot of the bed, Katsuki felt the mattress shift beneath her weight as she put her head in her hands. Mina patted her on the back and Iida stood in front of her, looking concerned. Todoroki had come to stand closer to the Katsuki. He leaned forwards slightly, “Has he said anything to you?” He asked quietly, his eyes were anxious and Katsuki knew he was just as worried about Izuku. Katsuki wrinkled his face, not pleased with the fact he hadn’t, “No.” He returned to picking at the loose thread on his mattress. For a second, he thought he saw Todoroki smile faintly as if Katsuki’s reaction had amused him. But when he looked up, it was gone. “I feel so helpless,” Uraraka said through her hands, catching the blonde’s attention again. “He’s just…” She trailed off miserably and looked back up at the rest of them. Iida reached out to rest his hand tentatively on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She gave him a weak smile in reply but still looked close to tears. Katsuki hated to agree with her but as he glanced across at the pitiful figure of Izuku, still curled up against the wall, his heart thumped uncomfortably hard in his chest. He felt like he needed to confront something, preferably something physical. If he could just get out of bed and blow off some steam maybe he’d be able to think clearly. But no. He was trapped here, in bed, with a bunch of emotional teenagers and no anger outlet. Definitely a worst-case scenario.
Katsuki finally drew his eyes away from Izuku as he saw Kirishima shift in his chair. He exchanged an apprehensive look with Sero and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something more. “Bakugou...” But Iida cut in before he could get anywhere. “We should let you get some rest.” Iida fixed Kirishima with a pointed look and the spiky-haired teen glanced away, still looking guilty. They all made a move to get up but Katsuki spoke first. He wasn’t going to let them leave without telling him the truth. The whole truth. “What are you hiding from me now?” He demanded, his voice bitter. He’d had enough of all the secrets now. More glances were exchanged between the visiting party and Katsuki furrowed his brow even deeper. “Tell me or get the fuck out.” He snapped at them, patience far beyond gone. If they wanted to keep shit from him, that was fine. Well, it wasn’t actually but he didn’t want them here if that was the case and if they kept looking at him like some fragile thing he was going to go feral.
Iida sighed at Katsuki’s brash tone and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He cast a look over his shoulder at where Izuku lay unmoving and shuffled closer to Katsuki, speaking in a low voice as if he didn’t want the other teen to hear him. “None of the teachers wanted us to tell you, but…”  Another pause as he built up the nerve to continue. Katsuki blinked in surprise and his anger faded slightly. Iida going rogue? The strict class representative was finally getting interesting. Iida stole a glance at where Recovery Girl was sitting in her usual chair in the far corner, head bowed as if she were dozing. She certainly wasn’t paying them any attention. “You’re being kept behind U.A’s defences because not long after Shigaraki disappeared, he sent his Nomu’s to Tartarus.” A cold feeling was beginning to settle in Katsuki’s stomach, “All For One’s prison.” He murmured. Iida nodded gravely, “Yes. Most of the top pro-heroes were still out of action or unaccounted for- There was no one to stop him. He took back his real body and broke out some more nasty criminals along the way. No one’s seen him since.”  
If All For One had his body back and control of Shigaraki’s powers as well as the Nomu, everything they’d sacrificed… Had it done anything? Katsuki shook his head as if shaking away the thought. No, he couldn’t think like that. They’d saved most of the city just by holding Shigaraki down, Gigantomachia too, it hadn’t been useless. He side-eyed Izuku’s bed again. Was it just his imagination or had the boy shifted slightly in his peripheral vision? Returning his attention to the others, Katsuki clenched his fists. Though he wasn’t happy that they were being guarded, he could admit it made a lot of sense. The U.A Barrier was pretty formidable but he wasn’t sure it could hold off the bastard if he really wanted to get to them. Another flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and Katsuki was sure of it now. “You should go.” He said to them. Kirishima started, “W- Bakugou, are-” Rolling his eyes, Katsuki interrupted him. “I’m sure, Shitty-Hair. Get going, I want to sleep.” The redhead hesitated then nodded slowly and got up. The others said their goodbyes and did the same, stacking the visitors’ chairs back up and piling them in the corner before heading for the door.
Katsuki was so focused on watching Izuku for more movement he didn’t realise Todoroki was lingering by the edge of his bed until he coughed. The other teen kept his voice low as he said to Katsuki, “You’ll talk to him, won’t you?” Katsuki knew what he meant instantly and scowled, “What do you think I’m doing, bastard?” Now piss off.” Todoroki backed off, but Katsuki could see that same knowing smile on his face as he turned away. Though he tried not to focus on it, Katsuki’s face felt flushed and he glared angrily at Todoroki’s retreating back. Soon, their classmates were gone and the room felt bare once again. Though Katsuki had been sure Recovery Girl was asleep, the moment the door swung shut she got slowly to her feet. The old medic gave Katsuki a wry smile. “I’ve got other things to get done. You two rest.” She paused, “and heal .” The emphasis she put on the last word made Katsuki uncomfortable again and he was sure she knew exactly what they’d been talking about. Then she left and it was just the two of them.
Katsuki took a deep breath and glanced across at the other bed. Izuku was still, his back turned to the room, looking pretty much dead to the world like he had done for the last few days. But Katsuki had been sure he’d seen him twitch when Iida had spoken of All For One. He was awake, and he must have heard what their classmates had said. “You should talk to them.” He said before he could lose his nerve. Izuku stiffened from across the room and Katsuki waited before continuing, “They’re worried about you.” The silence between them stretched longer and Katsuki was sure Izuku would just ignore him as he had done since he’d woken up here until finally, he shifted. “And tell them what?” The green-haired boy’s voice sounded so tired and bitter that Katsuki winced. He’d never seen Izuku so hopeless before. He’d always been the first to bounce back from everything, it was one of his most irritating qualities. “The truth. They want to help you, idiot.” More silence, then at last, “What is the truth?” Even quieter than before and Katsuki had to strain to hear it. Katsuki blinked, “Huh?” What the hell was he talking about? Izuku rolled onto his back and Katsuki caught a glimpse of his face. It was streaked with tears, more running silently down his cheeks and Katsuki’s chest tightened painfully. “The truth,” Izuku repeated, his voice catching in his throat. “That I wasn’t able to stop All For One. I was given this power to be a hero and I couldn’t even protect the people I care about the most.” Katsuki gawked incredulously at him, “ That’s what you’ve been upset about?” He demanded, “You have got to be the thickest person I h-” He broke off abruptly as Izuku lifted one of his heavily bandaged arms in front of his face. “Hey! Stop it. You’re not supposed to move them.” But the freckled teen didn’t seem to hear him, “All For One was right.” He murmured, “I’m worthless, I don’t deserve this power.”
Katsuki could only stare at him in shock- It was one of the last things he’d expected Izuku to be hung up over after everything he’d seen him accomplish in a single year. He struggled vainly to find something to say. This was the exact opposite of what he was good at. Izuku had dropped his hand back to his side, staring emptily at the ceiling, and Katsuki’s stomach twisted painfully again. Part of him just wanted to yell at the dumbass about how, well, dumb he was being. Could he not see everything he’d done? All the lives he’d saved? But his mouth felt thick and heavy, his heart pounded so loud now and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop from cursing himself. This was pathetic, not even able to tell Izuku, someone he’d been willing to die for, that he was impressed with him. What kind of person did he have to be to find jumping in front of those spikes easier than admitting he was wrong? If he was doing this it would be his way. The first step was to make Izuku realise how stupid he sounded.
“Deku.” He said after a few minutes of silence had passed, “Come here a second.” Wide confused eyes stared at him, “W-what?” “Come here.” He repeated. “Why?” Katsuki’s eye twitched, “Because I can’t get up and- Fuck’s sake, just move it!” The bedsheets rustled softly as Izuku pushed them aside and slowly got up. It was a bit awkward, not being able to use his arms to prop himself up, but he managed it and then stood there, pausing for a moment before he walked cautiously over to where Katsuki lay. He stopped near the top of the bed and Katsuki huffed in annoyance, beckoning the other one closer. Izuku still looked confused but shuffled another few steps forwards, leaning down until he was close enough for Katsuki to whack him upside the head. It wasn’t a particularly hard hit but Izuku still yelped and stared at Katsuki in disbelief, “What was that for?!” He whined loudly. Katsuki couldn’t help but smile slightly at the indignance in his voice, it felt like a long time since Izuku’s voice had sounded anything but broken. “Negative reinforcement,” he said, “When you say something stupid about yourself, I get to hit you.” Narrowed green eyes met his own but he was sure they seemed more focused than before. Katsuki sighed, shifting in his bed. “You really think you didn’t do anything to help?”
Izuku was watching him closely, his expression clouded with an emotion Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to figure out. But he didn’t reply so Katsuki continued. “For starters, the second you realised Shigaraki could track you, you led him away from the evacuation. Which was pretty fucking stupid because you tried to do it without telling anyone.” Izuku snorted but didn’t interrupt, he’d stopped crying now which was a win, right? Katsuki had to tear his eyes away from the teen, the itchiness he felt was back, crawling all over his skin until he ground his teeth together, hard. “Then you unlocked float,” Katsuki counted it down on his fingers as if he were making a list, “ And used blackwhip to keep everyone from being destroyed by decay.” Another finger down. “Kacchan…” Izuku said hesitantly and Katsuki glanced back up at him. Freckles stood out against a bright red face and he took another step forwards so he was right next to Katsuki’s bed. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, he was sure his own face was flushed too but he managed to keep his voice steady as he said, “What? Are you saying you didn’t do that?” Izuku shook his head slowly and Katsuki could swear he saw the hint of a smile begin to tug at his lips. “Exactly. Now shut the fuck up and let me tell it.” He heard a soft chuckle to his side and blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he’d stopped. It was an effort to keep talking. He didn’t like that reassuring someone else meant he had to say embarrassing things like this. “You managed to stop All For One from stealing your power then still got up and kept fighting him again. Am I missing anything?” Izuku was stood with his bowed, dark hair in his face but Katsuki could hear him sniffing and figured he was crying again.
Shoulders shaking slightly, Izuku looked back up and yep. He was definitely crying again. “I could only do that because you saved me! You, Lemillion, Todoroki, Iida, you all helped me. And I couldn’t even stop you from getting hurt!” Another sob shook him, “If I can’t protect the people I care about, what good am I?” Katsuki frowned and rapped Izuku’s head with his knuckles again. It wasn’t as hard as the first time, more like he was trying to knock some sense into him but it still made Izuku start. He stared at him, the tears in his eyes glittered in the harsh hospital lights and Katsuki faltered. He was sure his stomach was now trying to escape his body by making him want to throw it up but he drew in another breath to steady himself. “That’s our job, dumbass. We’re all trying to save as many people as we can.” Izuku shook his head, he moved forwards somewhat uncertainly to perch on the edge of the bed. It dipped slightly under his weigh and Katsuki moved further back towards the wall so Izuku could turn to face him, now sitting cross-legged on the sheets which took a degree of shuffling around. Katsuki was very aware of how Izuku’s knees were pressed against his side on the small space. It was through the sheets but he was sure he could feel it. When the other didn’t say anything about their new position, Izuku started again. “With One For All though, I’m meant to save everyone. That’s what I was given it for.” His gaze fell again, “Midnight, everyone who was killed, I should’ve saved them. But I couldn’t do it. I shouldn’t have this power.” He went silent, looking even more miserable. “They told you?” Katsuki asked. He tried to stay quiet but he was surprised Iida or either of the others would’ve said anything to him. Izuku shook his head glumly, “I heard the nurses talking when they thought I was asleep.”
Katsuki regarded him with a sad expression, that must’ve been why he’d been in such a slump, learning that their teacher was killed for the very thing he believed he should’ve prevented. He’d had the worlds biggest burden dropped on his shoulders in the middle of a war, but he wouldn’t ask anyone to help him carry it. Which was Katsuki’s fault. All through their childhood and then their teenage years, Izuku had just wanted to be included, he always tried so hard never to be a burden. Izuku glanced back up as he heard the other boy sigh, his face tinged pink, probably from all the crying, and Katsuki tried again. “Deku. You can’t save everyone, not all the time.” Izuku flinched and Katsuki hurried on, “Not even All Might could do that so stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” Those bright eyes were staring at him so intensely now but Katsuki couldn’t stop, Izuku had to hear this. He swallowed dryly, “All For One, One for All, they’re both cursed powers.” Izuku tilted his head to the side, “They’re not the same though,” He protested, “One For All is meant to help people.” Shaking his head, Katsuki struggled to sit up taller, ignoring Izuku’s worried protests. He had to make Izuku understand this. It was something he’d realised pretty soon after All Might told them about the other wielders of Izuku’s power.
“Just fucking listen, okay. One For All is only as good as whoever uses it. Every one of its past users died alone, trying to stop All For One because they thought like you. They thought they had to fight that bastard on their own so no one else would get hurt, but that’s exactly why they all died.” He stared straight into Izuku’s eyes, willing him to realise it. “If you keep trying to win by yourself then you’ll get killed. You have to let other people help you.” “But what if you get hurt again? What if you get killed? I don’t want that to happen!” Izuku’s voice was insistent, his eyes were set in the way Katsuki could tell he was going to be stubborn about it and his own temper flared up in retaliation. “What, and you think I’ll be okay if you die?!” The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them but he felt the heat creeping into his face as he realised what he said. It did succeed in silencing Izuku however, and Katsuki took the opportunity to keep talking. “Even if you did manage to defeat All For One, it wouldn’t be a victory for any of us-” He willed himself to say it again, “For me, if you get killed.” The heat was now spreading down his neck and he dropped his head to avoid Izuku’s gaze, frustration or something else was making his own vision blurry. The other boy was quiet and Katsuki very much wanted to curl up in a hole somewhere and think about what he’d just said for a few years or so. He resented how difficult this was. Neither of them moved until Katsuki heard Izuku sniff. He looked up in surprise to see more tears on the boys face. Had he said something wrong? Katsuki started to move forward and opened his mouth but Izuku shook his head, rubbing the tears off his cheeks with his shoulder. “Sorry, Kacchan. I’m just-” He sounded hoarse but there was a soft smile on his face, “When I was fighting Shigaraki, all I could think about was what would happen to you and everyone else that I-” “That you didn’t think about yourself.” Katsuki finished with a sigh, “I fucking hate that about you. Can’t be a hero if you’re dead, can you?” He’d meant it to be a rebuke but Izuku’s smile widened even more and he laughed. A proper laugh, the first time Katsuki had heard in what felt like forever, and he couldn’t help but relax at the sound of it. Okay, this sucked and he felt itchy all over, but it was rewarding to see the enthusiasm return to Izuku’s face.
The laugh faded and Izuku returned to staring at Katsuki with such a fond expression that he felt a sharp twinge of guilt in his gut. He knew Izuku had only ever wanted to be close again, like how it had been when they were kids, and he was still waiting after everything that Katsuki had done to him. Part of him wished Izuku would just hate him, it would be easier to understand for one thing. “Kacchan, thank you.” The soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, “Everything All For One said to me…” He trailed off and stared at his arms, still thickly bandaged and splinted. “I thought I had gotten past it but it made me feel so useless. I guess I’m still just Deku.” He said it so sadly that Katsuki felt the twinge grow into a gut-wrenching pain. That stupid nickname. Izuku had tried to reclaim it but it seemed he didn’t really believe it himself. Katsuki probably could have pulled his heart right out of his throat at this point, “Well, duh, Deku. You said you were always gonna try your best, right?” He tried to make it sound casual, but he was admitting to something he'd known for a while. That Deku hadn't meant worthless for a very long time.
The look of surprise on Izuku’s face only lasted for a second before his eyes filled with tears yet again, his bottom lip trembling as he sobbed out, “Kacchan.” Then he was launching himself towards Katsuki who promptly stiffened in shock. It was an incredibly uncomfortable hug to manoeuvre, it would've been without the weird position. Izuku couldn’t lift his arms so he sort of squished himself against Katsuki’s side, face mashed between Katsuki’s shoulder and neck. Katsuki’s heart was going haywire, he didn’t even notice the pain in his side and very slowly, he wrapped his good arm around Izuku’s shoulders, patting him clumsily on the back as he cried against his collarbone. “You’re pathetic,” He mumbled, uncomfortable with the silence, “Moping around for days and making everyone worry, bastard.” Izuku laughed between deep breaths, trying to stifle his sobs. “Should’ve said something earlier.” Izuku twisted his head so it was laying on Katsuki’s shoulder, “You’re meant to be nice to me, I’m upset.” He said though Katsuki could feel his lips curved in a smile against his skin. His face felt like it was on fire now, “This is me being nice, and you’re always upset about something.” “I know, thank you.” The other replied. Katsuki’s skin tingled where Izuku’s eyelashes fluttered against his neck, still blinking away tears. Katsuki wasn’t sure what to say after that. It was complicated. He knew Izuku needed him right now, but Katsuki hadn’t done enough to deserve it yet. It felt wrong to be so content that he was the one Izuku reached out for. Just be there for him now, he decided, be there for him and try harder to earn it.
He wasn’t sure exactly when Izuku fell asleep on him. At some point, his breathing evened out and he’d relaxed against Katsuki’s side. The blonde was still too wired to relax. Who knew a conversation could fill him with such adrenaline, he was struggling not to shift around and wake Izuku up. The boy had looked so tired, with everything he’d been holding in it wasn’t a surprise that he’d not gotten any peace. Katsuki hoped he would sleep soundly now. He was still awake when Recovery Girl stepped back into the room. She took one look at the two of them, curled up together on Katsuki’s bed and he was sure she’d say something about how they should be resting in separate beds, maybe she had to check their wounds or something and Izuku would be forced to move. He couldn’t lie that the thought made him a bit panicked. But she simply gave him a strange look, one eyebrow half-raised as if she were asking him a question. When Katsuki didn’t move the old lady shrugged, turning to leave again. She flicked off the light as she did so, leaving the room in dappled shadows as the sun sank lower in the sky. Was it that late already? He hadn’t noticed the time passing by but he was starting to feel tired. Emotions were just as draining, sometimes more so, than being in a fight, and Katsuki certainly felt like a battle had been won in that room today.
With a sigh, Katsuki accepted there wasn’t much more he could do at the moment. The warmth of Izuku against his side made him feel drowsy and he finally gave in- shifting in the bed as carefully as he could until he was lying down. He wrapped his arm a little more firmly against Izuku and smiled faintly as he felt him hum in response, pressing closer to Katsuki’s chest. Izuku was lying on top of the sheets and there wasn’t any way to get him under them without waking him up but there was a spare pile of blankets that rested on the chair closest to Katsuki’s bed and he managed to drag a couple closer to him, draping them over Izuku’s form. With that sorted, Katsuki could relax. He rested his head gently against the mass of green curls and let his eyes drift shut, trying to empty his mind. It didn’t matter if All For One was out to get them or if Izuku’s arms wouldn’t heal right. They were both alive for now, and they would figure it out.
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imaginesandinserts · 3 years
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Irreverent Pt. 47 - Seven Devils
Title: Irreverent Pt. 47 - Seven Devils
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~11K
Irreverent Series Masterlist
You'd just arrived at the airport when you got the call from Clyde informing you that there was a terror alert across the EU and flights were being grounded. He'd coordinate agents on the ground but there wasn't much you could do from the States, so you were off the hook until things got figured out.
Great, now what? *------------* Aaron walked towards the plane with the rest of the team, with Reid already spouting facts around unsubs who preferred to shoot their victims from a distance rather than up close. He climbs up the steps and turning, is greeted by you, seated in your usual chair. "Hey, what're you doing here?" He walks up towards you, the rest of the team following close behind, equally surprised to see you. "EU terror alert," you explain while he stashes his luggage away, nodding hello to everyone else. "Clyde said I'm free for the time being and I was already at the airport. Garcia read me in." "Well, it'll be good to have you, kid." Rossi takes a seat in the aisle across from you guys. "Seems like an all hands on deck sort of situation." Everyone settles in and you can't help but notice the small smile that seems to linger on Aaron ever since he saw you. The two of you had only had the past three days together and throughout that, you'd had a soccer match for Jack, a birthday party for one of his friends, and you'd spent Saturday night with the girls; needless to say, it had been tough to get time together for just the two of you. "Was Jack okay?" you ask, turning to Aaron after everyone had finished talking through some of the case details and started to build a preliminary profile on the Unsub. Aaron nods, but your question catches JJ's attention, who looks to you with her eyebrows raised, the puzzled expression on her face imploring you to explain. You're unable to help the smirk that plays at your lips as you do. "We had a - um - staff meeting this morning that Jack wasn't invited to. He wasn't too happy that the door was locked," you explain, biting your lip and barely stifling your giggles. "A staff meeting?" Emily raises her eyebrows at you and you can just imagine the dirty thoughts running through her mind along with the Wow Y/N only soccer moms call getting railed a staff meeting. You meet Aaron's eye and you can see the soft blush to his cheeks that only you would notice. "I simultaneously regret and appreciate my choice of words there," you murmur to him as he shakes his head in amused disapproval. Derek barks out a laugh in reaction to Emily. "Uh huh. Was it a successful meeting?" he asks, wagging his eyebrows at you, toeing the line at ribbing Aaron as well. "I think both parties were pleased with the outcome. At least according to my notes." You turned to look at Aaron, mirth flitting into your gaze. "Would you concur?" He has a small smirk on his face mirroring yours, no doubt thinking back to the fifteen minutes the two of you had caught together before you had to get ready to leave for the airport - once against the aforementioned locked bedroom door and a second in the shower, before you begged him to relent, otherwise you'd be late. He'd been intent on a third. "Some good points were made. However, we might have to do a follow up to ensure we're still aligned," he drawls, getting far too much enjoyment out of the effect his words and low voice would have on you. You lose it at that, unable to keep a straight face. Follow up indeed. "Gross. I feel like I just watched my parents flirting." JJ groans, pushing up from her seat to go rummage around for snacks in the back. She was due anytime now and would be gone on maternity leave starting the following week. She was already mostly out of the field, staying in the precinct and managing the team from there. You knew, that as a result of that, Aaron was actually out in the field a lot more because he trusted JJ to handle the emotions and politics of local officials far better than anyone else. "Morgan, could you check if we're stocked on the M4 ammunition?" Aaron switches gears towards preparing for the landing, a quick brush of his hand to your thigh in promise that there would indeed be a follow up to this morning's activities. Derek nods and gets up, checking on the rifles stock that was brought along. With an Unsub like this, the team would need to be equally equipped to handle any situations that might arise, especially in a sprawling Texas city where guns were aplenty. "Guys," Spencer pipes up, "I don't think I'm actually allowed to use those." He glances around at the rest of the team apprehensively, as Derek and Aaron share a calculated look at his admission. "You're not," they both tell him almost simultaneously, drawing a snort from both you and Emily while Rossi merely smiles and shakes his head, turning his head back to his notes. Reid looks offended and turns on you at that. "Are you certified to shoot those?" His tone implied that he highly doubted you. "I've been shooting since I was six years old," you inform him, a superior look on your face. "I actually set the Academy record for most weapons certifications earned by a trainee." Aaron presses his lips together to keep from smiling while Emily shakes her head with a laugh at you goading Reid. "I didn't know six year olds were allowed to handle guns." "If you're rich in Connecticut, you can do pretty much anything. Just look at the Kennedys." "Touché."
Spencer grumbles to himself a bit more, slouching into his chair. It was his one weak point and he was getting better at it, really. On pretty much everything else, you're sure he'd have you beat.
You turn towards the research you'd been conducting on your own case with Clyde, in your downtime. Things were starting to fit together in an unexpected manner, and you'd had to bend a few rules to start putting all the different pieces in, but you were finally making some headway. It would definitely be faster and easier if you could enlist Garcia's help or bounce ideas off of Aaron, but your hands were unfortunately tied due to the high level of clearance you'd had to obtain to work this case in the first place.
Aaron watches as your head is bent in concentration, his own focus flickering away from the case ahead. You'd only been home for three days but you'd mentioned that your assignment at last had an end in sight. He's hopeful that that means things will be calming down - the two of you would be around one another more again. While Jack had so far done a good job of keeping the secret, he also gave his father a very telling, excited look anytime he saw you, and Aaron could often see Jack's eyes going to your hand where he hoped a ring would soon sit.
*------------*
All of the bodies thus far had been found at the grounds of various places of worship around the city - a few Churches, a Temple, and a Mosque. It would appear most of the actual killings had happened at a different location and the bodies were then moved and left to be found the next morning by unsuspecting worshippers, children, and groundskeepers. The Unsub was an equal opportunity killer - no discrimination in the religious leanings of his victims.
So far the victimology was all over the board - a college student, a local politician, a priest, a housewife, and a video game developer were the five victims so far. It read like the beginnings of a bad joke. A rabbi, a priest, and a horse walk into a bar…
The Unsub had left the bodies of each victim at their chosen place of worship. That, in itself, felt highly personal so there was a chance that the Unsub personally knew each of their victims. This was supported by the methodology - killing the victims from afar was easier on this particular Unsub's constitution.
The team had been spitballing; attempting to establish a connection between the victims. Reid and JJ were working on the geographic profile. Well, Spencer was at least. JJ kept having to leave to go to the restroom every five minutes. In that moment, you definitely did not envy pregnant women. Bearing children wrecked one's body.
The obvious religious themes were all in scope. The theory at the forefront was that each of the victims was being punished for a perceived sin, and Garcia was doing a deeper dive into their finances and online history while the rest of you got to know the families and the victims personally to wrangle out the truth. This was the most difficult part usually - even if someone was an awful person whilst alive, most people became reluctant to speak ill of the dead.
Trusting JJ to handle the centralized headquarters that the team had set up, Aaron left with you to do one set of the interviews. He wanted to speak to the parishioners of the church where the priest had been found, his body jutting out of the confessional booth. You both noted that it was on the opposite side from where the priests would typically sit, symbolically speaking to the fact that the Unsub considered the priest to be a sinner.
"I mean, he's a priest in a Catholic church," you said as the two of you walked up the pathway to the entrance. "The obvious definitely comes to mind."
Aaron agrees with a grimace. Father Patrick had led a youth group and had been doing so for the past decade. There was a high chance the Unsub could be a current or prior victim of sexual assault at his hands. He could also be someone whom a potential victim had confided in, so your suspect list was pretty wide open for the time being.
As suspected, every conversation you had - with church docents and members alike - was highly complimentary to Father Patrick. He was good with the children, kind to the female staff, had a fairly middle ground interpretation of the Bible; an all-around pillar of the community.
"Hopefully Morgan and Prentiss have better luck."
You nod, buckling in your seatbelt and commandeering the music, electing to actually play the White Album for once, drawing a smile from Aaron. He pulls out of the parking space and heads back towards the precinct. You smile to yourself as Aaron's deep voice croons along to Dear Prudence, his fingers tapping along to the beat against the steering wheel while you look out the window at the twilight Texas sky.
*------------*
"So, the girl, Rachel - total know-it-all, not unlike someone else we know…"
Reid glares at Emily as she trails off with a smirk. Her and Derek had gone to do another set of the interviews at the local university and had talked to classmates and professors to learn more about the first victim.
"We all have our suspicions about Father Patrick, but nothing conclusive there. The Councilwoman was taking bribes to block the legislation around the city's free internet policy per Garcia's research. That leaves Mrs. Abad and Ryan Cohen, the designer. We can't tell what their secret might've been, besides some high balances on a credit card for Mrs. Abad."
The team nods at Hotch, confirming his summary of the case so far.
"JJ and I have narrowed down the field to three epicenters across the city." You're surprised that Spencer gave JJ any credit at all for the work they'd done together. JJ had confided in you upon your return, that she'd told Spencer she was going to the bathroom and had instead taken a twenty minute power nap in a supply closet. Her maternity leave could not start soon enough, and you're glad that she's handling this pregnancy in a much more relaxed manner than the first, allowing herself the time off properly.
"Based on the current cadence, we could have another victim in the next couple of days." Rossi looks around the room grimly. You're all well aware that the window to catch the Unsub before another victim materializes is closing quickly. It also usually tends to speed up once the team arrives on the scene. Makes Unsubs nervous. Eager to finish the job faster.
"Would you say Councilwoman Crane was guilty of the sin of greed?" Derek's brow is furrowed, the beginnings of a concrete thought evident in his question.
You nod, encouraging him to continue.
"Pride for the first victim, Rachel."
You agree again, but this time the rest of them are also following along.
"Seven Deadly Sins," Spencer surmises from Derek's trail of crumbs.
"What are all of them?" Emily asks, looking between Derek and Spencer.
Derek shifts from one foot to the other. "Pride, Greed," he lists off, counting with his thumb and index finger.
"Lust, Envy," Aaron supplies, tacking on to the end of Derek's sentence and prompting him to continue the count.
"Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth," Spencer finishes, turning to write them all down in order on the whiteboard.
The team was finally making some headway.
You stand towards the back of the room looking at the victim board, arms crossed across your chest, leaning against the back wall. "So, let's assume its Lust for Father Patrick. The excessive shopping could be indicative of Envy from Mrs. Abad. You guys did say she lived in a posh neighborhood. Keeping Up With the Joneses lifestyle."
"That leaves Gluttony for Cohen. Kid was pudgy." Rossi had been the one to visit the Medical Examiner, so you all trusted his assessment there.
"They're all in order. Could it be that simple?" Aaron questions, leaned forward in his chair, looking at the board with each of the victims' names listed next to one of the sins.
You contemplate his question as does everyone else. Could it be that simple? An Unsub working down the list of deadly sins, picking out victims that aligned with each one. It would stand to reason, given the working profile - you'd all decided that the Unsub must have an Orthodox religious upbringing, in a militant household.
"Occam's Razor," you answer finally, meeting his eyes, a grim set to your face. This meant there were at least two more victims planned. "The simplest explanation is usually the right one."
*------------*
In the past couple of days, the team had narrowed down the scope of the case, having realized that the Unsub had met all of the victims through various volunteer activities. The working theory was that the Unsub had deemed the victims to all be hypocrites - claiming to be doing charitable works while sinning on the side.
Garcia had cross-referenced volunteer activities between the various places of worship and had come up with charities that all of them supported throughout the city. From there she'd catalogued registered volunteers across all of them, against activities each of the victims attended, however hadn't been able to narrow it down enough.
So, here you were manning the precinct late at night with Aaron, Derek, and Emily. The team was taking it in shifts to see if any missing persons calls came in, with victims fitting into either of the final two remaining sins - Wrath and Sloth. Unfortunately, there were simply far too many options for you to be able to determine who might become the unwitting victim in this Unsub's crusade.
It was calm and quiet, only the whirring of the fan and ambient sounds of the printer filling the silence. The four of you had already eaten and were all nursing hot cups of coffee in order to stay awake in the otherwise empty station. Public statements had been made and hotlines set up in case anyone could provide even a hint as to who the Unsub might be.
Emily was slouched over at the table, her arms cradling her head as another yawn escaped her. Bleary eyed, she looks at you and you weren't much better off, only barely keeping your eyes open, tilting back in your own chair in order to simulate the feeling of tipping over; effectively scaring yourself into staying awake. Derek was seated in front of the laptop, with Garcia on video. The two of them had been playing some game, however it appeared that she'd tired of it, being nearly two hours of a time difference ahead of the rest of you. So now, Derek was just watching her snooze, head bent down to her desk.
You look at Aaron, reading the notes Reid had left behind in order to try and make some sense of everything - uncover something that had slipped through the cracks. His brow is furrowed, head bent in concentration. He'd shed the jacket a while ago and despite the time of year, the Texan climate had forced him to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing delicious swathes of forearm for your perusal. His hands - so large compared to your own, the veins prominent as he flips a page, muscle tensing and flexing as he does. You have to bite your lip to suppress a moan. It was the sleep deprivation. It was getting to you. Yeah, that's it. Not your big, strong boyfriend looking all serious and focused and handsome as he tries to hunt down a serial killer. Nope. Not at all…
You stand up suddenly as your chair tips forward, all four legs finally hitting the ground with a soft crash, cushioned by the carpeted flooring. Loud enough, however, to get Aaron's attention, as he turns to look up at you, the Are you alright? plain to read in his eyes.
"Need fresh air. Gonna go take a walk around the block or something," you explain, shaking your head of the cobwebs that had formed over the course of the past two hours, as the night had slipped into what could better be classified as early morning.
Aaron sets the papers down and turns to Morgan, indicating that he was going to join you. If you thought he was letting you go out alone, at this hour, with a killer on the loose, you were certifiable.
He watches as you slip on your blazer but he doesn't bother with his own. It would be quick and it wasn't too cold anymore. He follows you through the precinct and out the front doors, down the steps, matching your shorter pace easily - he's used to it by now.
"You sure you're alright?" he asks, once the two of you have reached the street. You merely hum tiredly and nod, so he grabs your hand in his, and walks in step with you, turning the corner past the precinct.
It is a little colder outside than it was inside, but his larger hand encompasses yours entirely, making you feel like a child swathed in his warm embrace. The cool air filters through your nostrils, reinvigorating your mind, giving it the jumpstart needed to function once more.
The two of you don't talk as you walk hand in hand down the sidewalk, him walking on the outside as he always does. Only the streetlamps are on, little pockets of light between stretches of darkness. Your mind is at peace. You aren't thinking about this case or your other one. You aren't thinking about any responsibilities and obligations. No worries. Just silent. It's so rare for your mind to be quiet that you relish in it. Allow yourself to bathe in the soundless symphony occupying the chasm in your brain.
As you approach the final turn that will lead you back to the entrance of the station, you find yourself watching Aaron again. He'd been so patient with the entire case with Interpol, despite it taking a toll on him. He'd been pulling double duty - doing all the things he does while also subbing in for everything you're unable to do at home. Him and Jack had sent you a cooking video of the two of them last time you'd been away, as Jack bossed Aaron around in the kitchen and helped him make your chocolate chip cookies for the bake sale at school. You'd sent Aaron detailed instructions, as he'd have to be the one to help Jack brown the butter and ensure he didn't burn himself. You knew he must have been frustrated with the extremely particular list of ingredients you'd sent him, down to the brand of salt flakes (the pièce de résistance of the entire experience)  that got sprinkled on top. Yet, he'd tackled it all with aplomb, not complaining to you even once. Jack had confided in you afterwards that Aaron had had to go to three different stores because the salt flakes were a rare item and not every branch of the nicer grocery store carried them. He'd done it though, and Jack had told you they'd turned out exactly like yours. Even Emily had texted you to validate this, asking if you'd come back without telling her when Aaron had brought a batch in for the team the following day.
Aaron feels a tug on his hand right before the turn. You'd stopped and his hand was still holding yours, forcing him to stop as well. You're stood in the shadows, right between two patches of light, your face immersed in darkness, and before he can say anything, he's lightly pushed against the brick wall exterior of the police station building. He lands with a soft oomph. You lean up against him, pressing yourself along the length of him and going up on your toes - utilizing the entirety of your ballet training - your lips meeting his in a heated kiss. He groans into your mouth, hands wrapping around your hips on instinct alone, tongue tracing your bottom lip before gently nipping at it, taking advantage of your resulting gasp to make his way into your mouth, licking every part of you available to him. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him and turns to hold you against the wall instead, pressing into the inviting warm juncture of your thighs.
"What brought this on?" he hums, moving from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone.
You shiver at his efforts, a flip in your stomach as you feel the edge of his teeth, followed by the soft bite at the bend of your neck. Unable to answer him, lost in the feeling of his lips and teeth against your skin, your hands mussing through his hair, softly pulling and drawing vibrated groans from him.
At the absence of an answer, he pauses, looking up until he has your full attention, meeting your darkened eyes contrasting against your bashful expression. Your breath hitches when his eyes meet yours. "I love you," you muster with some concentration, soft and blissful, pulling his face back down to meet your sweetly puckered lips once more, drawing him into the cacophonous sea of feeling along with you.
By the time the two of you make it back to the conference room that Derek and Emily were sat in, Emily has stood up, leaning flat against the back wall. Derek has moved as well, taking residence in your old chair, leaning backwards much the same way you had.
"What about you guys?" he asks as you and Aaron enter.
You avoid Emily's knowing look. "What about us?"
"This whole thing - case - heaven and hell. You believe in it?"
"I went the agnostic route," Emily adds, stretching and arching her back like a cat. "If it exists, great. If not, no skin off my back."
Derek looks at the two of you expectantly.
Aaron nods quickly, returning to his old seat, feeling a lot lighter than before. He'd grown up Catholic - heaven and hell were ever-present concepts in his home.
You shrug, grabbing your lukewarm cup of coffee and dropping onto the couch. Your family had been more religious for the sake of appearances and connections rather than any true faith-inspired feelings.
Derek chuckles lightly. "Okay, so if they do exist," he says, turning back to Emily who had sunk down to the floor, seated with her legs stretched out in front of her. "Where you think you're headed?"
"Let me guess, you think you're going to heaven," Emily taunts, a mocking grin on her face.
"I do good, I am good," Derek replies assuredly. "Everything else is up to God. Right, Hotch?"
Aaron breathes out half a laugh along with a raise of his brows, which was about as much agreement Derek could hope for there.
"What about you Princess?"
You look at him, slight roll of your eyes to the ceiling. "Pretty sure patricide rules me out for a ticket to heaven," you respond, your words coated with sardonic dismissal.
Heaven. Hell. What did it even matter when you're dead?
It was a good thing that you hadn't looked at Aaron at that, because if you had, you would've noticed an entirely odd expression on his face at your words - he decides to pin his thoughts for a conversation at a later time. Once the case was wrapped up.
*------------*
"Anything you know could help us identify your husband's killer. Were you able to get a good look at him?"
JJ and Derek are running the interrogation on the latest victim's wife while the rest of the team watches from the other room. The body had been found at the edges of yet another church's grounds, marking it as the sixth victim. However, this time, a witness had emerged. The Unsub had taken Dylan Rogers from his front yard at gunpoint and Ashley Rogers, his wife, had seen it all happen from the living room before calling it in to the precinct.
"She seems tense - her shoulders have been hunched this entire time. Her facial expressions have varied from somber to haunted almost." Reid shifts closer as he profiles Mrs. Rogers, studying her body language.
"Morgan said it seemed like he might have hit her. He saw some bruising when she went to the house to pick her up," Prentiss adds, her voice grave.
Aaron acknowledges both Reid and Prentiss with a nod, his eyes fixed on the interaction taking place in the other room.
"Would fit into the umbrella of Wrath." Rossi mused from beside Aaron. All of you continue to watch while JJ brings in a sketch artist to help Mrs. Rogers construct a likeness of the Unsub.
"It must be killing her - if it's true. Having to help find his killer. Imagine the number of times she must've dreamt of hurting him in the same way he hurt her." All of you turn from Emily back to Mrs. Rogers, thinking on her statement.
"She could've left," Reid reasoned distractedly, his expression casually appraising Mrs. Rogers still for any signs that she might be concealing anything.
You find yourself bristling at that, and you've spoken out before you could stop yourself. "You know, it's funny how whenever we see cases like this. Cases where a man continuously beat up his partner, that's the question on everyone's lips. Why didn't she leave? Why did she stay?"
Reid turns to you, his mouth open and ready to contradict you or apologize, you're unsure, but you continue. "We never ask, why didn't he stop?"
Emily snorts from beside you, her lips pressed tightly together as you both watch Mrs. Rogers working with the sketch artist. She turns to Spencer after a look at you. "Because we accept men as monsters. That is their natural state. Those of them that didn't give in to it - we exalt them. We call them good men. Better men. Because they didn't beat us and hurt us and watch us bleed."
There's a tense silence but this is a sentiment that none of them are unfamiliar with. Reid should've known better.
You see Spencer shift uncomfortably, obviously apologetic for his earlier statement. You shake your head slightly and offer him a small smile, reassuring him that he's alright. This kind of stuff, just hits closer to home for some of you.
Your eyes meet Aaron's and he's looking at you with the question in his eyes that you'd expected as soon as you'd opened your mouth. You shake your head at him too, before turning your gaze back to the front.
Aaron watches you for a beat more, his eyes trained to the side of your face, your unwavering eyes set upon Ashley Rogers and your words swimming in his mind. His eyes had asked the question that he already knew the answer to unfortunately. Yet another reason for him to despise Matthew van Doren's entire existence.
"You know, there was a time I thought he was the love of my life." You all can hear Mrs. Rogers talking to JJ as the sketch artist wraps up. "We had that love - that wake up Sunday morning with pancakes and lose yourself in each other under white sheets kind of love. I don't know when it all went wrong."
*------------*
With the aid of Mrs. Rogers' description, Garcia was able to run a digitally enhanced version of the sketch against all known volunteers who had been at most of the events attended by each of the victims in the weeks prior to their deaths. After that, apprehending the Unsub was just a matter of tying together the identified man to each of the victims directly.
The team was able to prevent the final murder, and while that was of little solace to everyone, there was a tiny part of you that felt happy for Ashley Rogers in all of it. Sometimes the exit route we need arrives in the most unexpected of manners, and it is on us to recognize it and seize it for ourselves. You really hoped that Ashley would claim a new and better destiny for herself.
Since it was late, Aaron was unable to get the jet to fly back the same night, so the team was huddled into a corner of the hotel lounge with drinks in hand. While you're thrilled that you were able to prevent the final victim from being taken, this wasn't the best case the team had worked. You can see it in everyone's eyes, the way they hold their drinks, the hushed whispers contemplating if there was something that would've pointed to him sooner.
You feel bad that you aren't even really thinking about this case anymore. Your mind is preoccupied by the contents of the file you've left upstairs in the hotel room. You nod along to Emily and Derek's conversation, glass of wine held languidly in hand while you mentally collate the work you'd done so far. You know you're contributing nothing to the current conversation, and mercifully both of them have left you to your thoughts. Knowing there's not much chance of you being able to distract yourself tonight, you stand and bid good night to them before walking over to Aaron and Rossi, seated over a chessboard with Reid. They were playing two against one and Reid was still the favored choice to win.
"I'm going to head upstairs." You lean in and whisper softly to Aaron so as to not disrupt the game.
He turns his head to look up, brow furrowed ever so much. It wasn't like you to turn in early when there was a chance to socialize with the team. "I can come with." He grabs his drink as though to finish it, but you stop him with a hand to his shoulder.
"It's alright. Stay." You brush a kiss against his temple before nodding good night to the rest of them, intent on making some progress once you reached the room.
By the time Aaron gets upstairs, it is much later. Reid had won but Rossi had insisted on a rematch. Rossi just wanted to see Reid beat just once, however Aaron was wise to not bring attention to the fact that you've never played him. He knows that Reid has asked you, but you've made up excuses to not play. He'd always wondered about that, and having seen the chessboard in the New York apartment had made him realize that there was actually a good chance that you could beat Reid if you wanted to. Reid was a genius. That fact couldn't be denied. He knew everything about everything. You were different from that. Reid was driven by his pure drive for knowledge - that desire to understand the world around him better. You learned with more purpose, intention - with the need to add knowledge and skills to your toolkit, ready to whip out and be unleashed upon your opponents.
He enters the room just to see you exiting the bathroom, a robe wrapped around your body. He can't help but sigh internally at the sight. His soft, fluffy, perfect little personal teddy bear. He couldn't wait to just crawl into bed, already fearing that you'd be on another flight out the following day.
You acknowledge his presence with a smile, while toweling your hair dry.
"Who won?" There's a crooked smile on your face as you watch him take off his jacket and tie. As if you didn't already know who would win.
"Reid. Rossi wants another rematch on the plane." He shakes his head, walking further into the room. Closer to you.
You laugh softly as Aaron reaches you, looking exhausted from the long week and yet, he seems alright. All in all, this case hadn't been absolutely terrible. "Hasn't he learned his lesson by now?"
"He's a glutton for punishment." He steps forward, grabbing the towel from you and prompting you to turn around as he takes over drying your hair with soft tussles, allowing the cloth to absorb water all the way from root to end.
You hum at his actions, letting yourself to be lulled into the peaceful, floaty state that you always enter whenever he plays with your hair. It just felt too good.
"You should just give in and play him sometime." He knows he's pulling at that little thread there, curious as to how you'll react at him having deduced something you hadn't told him upfront.
You merely chuckle softly, seemingly unsurprised that he'd worked that out for himself. His profiling skills no longer surprise you much, especially when it comes to yourself. He could read you like none other. "We wouldn't want Spencer to cry, now would we?"
Aaron bites his lip, preventing a smile threatening to sneak out at that. It was nice knowing he'd been right about that. He'd have to make you play him at least. He needed to see how good you were for himself.
You turn around, halting his actions. You'd gotten a call from Clyde when you'd gotten upstairs and you were already set to fly out tomorrow on a red eye. You'd booked the ticket, making the necessary upgrades on your own dime.
"Tomorrow?" he guessed, noting the expression on your face when you looked up at him, drawing yourself up on your toes and wrapping your arms  around his neck, the towel slipping from his hands and onto the floor between your feet.
You nod with a sigh, before coaxing him down, and he's quick to meet your lips with his own, knowing the two of now only have tonight. Tomorrow would be spent on the plane and then you'd have to fly out before he'd get even another hour alone with you. His hands instinctively find your waist, drawing you in flush against him. He deepens the kiss when one of your hands moves from his neck to cup his cheeks, thumb brushing over the peaking stubble around his jaw. You hate leaving like this. You can't wait for it to be over. For there to be no more goodbyes layering his touch and yours.
Aaron hugs you closer, wrapping his arms around you fully, the plush robe giving him far more to grab on to. Your lips against his, moving softly, insistently. You break away, struggling to be on your toes for much longer, so he moves, pushing you up onto the desk and coming to stand between your legs as your lips find their place once more against his, this time hands working at the buttons to his shirt as well.
"Wanted to talk to you about something." He breaks away, allowing you to pepper kisses down his jaw and the column of his neck. If the two of you only had today, he didn't want to risk forgetting and having the issue go stale before bringing it up again. He can feel your mouth, sucking, teeth lightly grazing the skin at his collarbone, undoubtedly leaving marks for him to admire afterwards when you were gone. At your hum, he continues relying on your ability to multitask. "Did you mean it, when you said you aren't going to heaven?"
You pause, looking up at him curiously and being reminded of the question Derek had asked. You hadn't realized it had affected Aaron, and yet thinking back on it, of course it had. Your answer had been entirely flippant. He was so serious when it came to things like this. "Yes. I did." Your voice is measured as you answer him, eyeing him carefully to watch his reaction. Even still, his hands have managed past the tie on your robe and his hands are caressing the bare skin of your sides, drawing a soft sigh from your mouth at the sensation. "By any definition of heaven and God and the Bible, murder isn't exactly condoned."
Had this been a few months ago, Aaron knew that this would have been an entirely different conversation. He could appreciate how entirely blunt you're able to be about how you've framed this for yourself. He might not agree with it, but he can appreciate the honesty. "Bible also says an eye for an eye." He raises an eyebrow at you, indicating that he wasn't about to let this go. Not when it came to the matter of your immortal soul. This mattered to him.
A gasp escapes you as his hands travel up your sides more deliberately, causing shivers against your sensitive skin at the feel of his roughly calloused fingers skimming, exploring, claiming. That's what his touch always felt like. A claim.
You try to focus as you think of a response, hands resuming unbuttoning his shirt and undoing the buckle to his belt. You can see he's already hard and as your fingers ghost over the bulge, he exhales sharply, eyes focused on your hands.
Realizing he wasn't getting an answer from you immediately, he helps you out by undoing the button and lowering the zipper on his pants, taking them off as you watch. You're a little confused by the conversation taking place, but you also knew this going into a relationship with Aaron. Like it or not, he was religious. Your family simply hadn't been much. It wasn't the same religious orthodoxy that Aaron had grown up with, at the very least. He wasn't by any means stringent about it, but some beliefs were innate. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. As far as he was concerned, you were a good person.
"Heaven and hell - I didn't grow up with that. But that whole eye for an eye thing, I don't think that really applies when it comes to taking a life." You help him slip the shirt off of his shoulders as you speak, the material slipping and falling to the ground as well. Aaron actually undoes the tie to your robe this time, pushing the material off of you almost roughly, eager to expose skin that he couldn't wait to taste. His hands move up to cup your breasts, kneading the flesh - the air in the room and his attentions causing your nipples to pucker, teasing him. He's unable to resist bending down and taking one into his mouth, gently sucking as his fingers tweak the other into submission as well, drawing a keening sound from deep within you, distracting you from your train of thought as you're drenched in the warmth of his touch.
You're entirely bare before him as his mouth moves to the other nipple, hands traveling down, grazing over your stomach and down your thighs, causing them to tremble. He pushes your legs apart, letting go of the nipple, his mouth returning to yours with a renewed fervor. His fingers pick up the evidence of your arousal around them, and he caresses your folds, before entering you with two fingers, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing over it as his fingers scissor inside you, locating the spot that has you arching your back, moans escaping you into his mouth.
Aaron releases your mouth so that he can watch you. Your hands scramble for purchase, bunching into the robe beneath you that soaks up your juices as he continues to work you up. Higher and higher. Your breath panting, breasts thrust up as you can feel the orgasm threatening to overtake your body. It only takes another circular motion of his thumb and the ask to Let go by him, for you to go crashing under the waves, your walls pulsing around his fingers. He watches you fall apart, your arms going up to hug against your breasts as you arch and shake and moan for him, his name falling from your lips repeatedly as he continues his machinations against your sensitive bud, intent on drawing it out. He loves to just watch you like this. Begging him to keep going, your breathy voice urging him on, your gorgeous face, mouth falling open - all for him. His beautiful little princess, entirely at his mercy.
He kisses you again as you come down, your earlier conversation entirely wiped from your mind. But not his. Never his. Aaron could focus and keep track of things in amazing order. He hated that you thought you weren't destined for heaven. It shouldn't matter - such an abstract concept and who even knew, really. But in the off chance it did, he didn't want you to think you'd be excluded. You couldn't be.
Your jelly arms and legs wrap around him and he's already worked down his boxers, revealing his thick, hard cock, eager to be buried inside you. He gathers you up in his arms, pulling you to the edge of the desk, before lifting you up and moving the two of you to the bed, managing to drop you onto it sideways, before quickly climbing on top.
You move your hands to card through his hair, watching him, his lovely brown eyes looking down at you, causing a flurry of emotion in your stomach. He leans down and slots his lips against yours once more, allowing you to get lost in the feel of him. You release him with a gasp, finding it difficult to take in air, and he allows you to breathe as he moves and presses a kiss to your shoulder, entering you in one quick thrust. "Genesis 9:5 says, for your lifeblood, I will surely demand an accounting."
What? You couldn't believe him. He was quoting the fucking Bible while buried in you to the hilt.
"Aaron - "
You're cut off as he moves out, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit, distractingly. Perfectly. Fuck.
He enters you again, harshly, his cock finding that spot inside you as he does. His voice deep and guttural, a groan falling from his mouth as he invades you fully once more. "From each man, I will demand an accounting for the life of his fellow man."
He was still doing it. How could he even remember to quote the Bible right then?! You couldn't even remember your own name.
You don't have the words as Aaron continues, pumping into you, his hand finding your clit to help you reach your peak faster. Neither one of you would last long. You're already a trembling, shuddering mess beneath him, back arched up, feet planted against the mattress for support, your hands traveling and touching any skin of his they could reach.
You can feel his breath hot against your ear, the weight of him on top of you as he ruts his hips against yours, and you can tell he's close. So very close. His hips stutter as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling softly, just enough. "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed." He was intent on fucking the verse into you. You release a broken cry at the feel of him. At his words. The passionate, gravely quality of his voice. He finishes with a loud groan, spilling into you, his ministrations against your clit paying off, propelling you towards the precipice as well. Your walls squeeze his cock, pulsing, clenching at the feel of his release inside you. He groans again, dropping on top of you, his hand going down and wrapping your thigh around him, pushing himself further into you still.
He lays on you for a moment longer, the only sound in the room being your breath and thudding hearts, beating in sync.
You're entirely drowned in ecstasy, even as you try to grasp onto the threads of the conversation the two of you had been having. You run your fingers through his soft hair, brushing back the sweat from his forehead, not minding the weight of him on you. He was crushing you entirely and you wouldn't exchange that for anything. No death could be better. Sweeter.
He rolls off of you after a few more moments, dropping next to you on his back, his legs dangling off the side of the bed.
You breathe deeply, before flipping over to lay on your back. You can feel the evidence of both of your releases inside you, but you can't be too bothered to care right then. Your hazy mind has managed to remember the conversation, and you turn your head, tucking your arms underneath to support it as you watch Aaron. He's laid on his back, one arm under his head, eyes closed and chest rising and falling, slowly settling into a steady state.
"If I wasn't going to hell for the patricide already, I'm definitely going to hell now for finding that far too hot." Your voice comes out low and whiny, a near whisper being all you could manage.
Aaron releases a breath of a laugh before he turns to settle on his side, drawing his legs up, moving closer so he's right beside you. So you can feel his skin against yours.
You reach out, your hand cupping his face and he leans in all too willingly, kissing you softly, completely. As he pulls back, you can feel his eyes examining you - searching. Trying to figure out what exactly it is that had you so thoroughly convinced that you didn't belong in heaven. Because he knows you and while at the time killing your father had been awful, he knew that you believed it had been right. Otherwise you wouldn't have done it.
"Can we accept the premise that killing your father isn't a dealbreaker?" he asks cautiously, his hand reaches out, settling into the curve of your waist, fingers curling into the skin. "What is it really?"
You blink, moving into his embrace, hands fidgeting slightly. You're nervous and you're sure he can tell. However, you know you need to tell him. Tell someone. If anyone should know, it's him. You lick your lips and sigh, looking up into his darkened eyes. "You've met my father. If you had to profile him, how would you do it?" Your voice is quiet, timid, unsure.
Your question is met by some apprehension. Aaron isn't certain, however he hesitantly answers you. "Control freak. Narcissist with a God complex."
You nod at his blunt assessment. "Did you ever wonder why my father - why he let me get away with so much?"
He hadn't.
"I broke off an exceptionally advantageous engagement. He did nothing. I cashed out my trust fund and ran away - slutting it up - " He flinches. " - on the cover of every trashy editorial. Crickets. I joined the FBI and he tried to take me out for dinner. Does he seem like the kind of man that tolerates that kind of insubordination?"
Aaron realizes that he should've thought about these questions. He should've thought to protect you from this back then. It was a miss. Especially after finding out what he had about Julian's death. And yet, there had never been anything in your father's interactions with you to suggest that he would do anything to truly harm you. Despite your fear of him.
"Do you remember what you wrote - in my recommendation letter to McKinney?" you murmured, your face right against his. If he moved a millimeter closer you'd be able to feel your nose against his.
Aaron watches you, his brow furrowing, wondering where exactly this was headed. He nods. He remembers. Your skin under his hands is starting to develop goosebumps. Without a word, he grabs you, shifting and maneuvering so that the two of you are laid together, heads at the headboard finally. He pulls at the blankets, draping them over you both and draws you back against him.
You place a quick kiss to his chest in thanks, fingers brushing over the scars that have persisted. Over time, he's become a lot more comfortable having his shirt off around you. It's still not something he will do in public, but around you, he feels comfortable enough. After all, you'd seen them back when they had been much worse.
He nods at you to continue. He has a need to know now. He has to know.
"The night that Matthew proposed to me, Julian and I got into a huge fight," you confess, legs tangling with his as your fingers trace the mapping of lines down his chest and stomach. "He revealed to me that my father - that the proposal was orchestrated. That it was part of some deal between our fathers. That - ." Your voice breaks and Aaron is quick to run his hands soothingly down your back, whispering soft encouragement in your ears, his lips following your hairline. You sniffle and continue on. "He told me that our father gave me away. Without asking. Without talking to me about it. He sold me."
It's Aaron who is lost for words this time. Out of all things, this - this he could not possibly have prepared for. All things considered, you're holding up remarkably, while his mind reels, putting everything he knows about Matthew into context with this new piece of information. He's struck by a tornado of anger towards your father. How dare that man - that awful, cruel man, treat you like property? To be traded and sold at his whims as if you weren't a fully fledged human being of your own.
You find yourself rubbing your hands up and down Aaron's arms, knowing that he must be processing everything all at once. You've had nearly a decade to deal with it and it still feels overwhelming at times.
"I didn't want to believe it, but it made sense."
Aaron opens his mouth to speak - to say something helpful but no words come. You shake your head, reassuring him that it was alright. He needn't say anything.
"So, I woke him up. We talked. I told him I wasn't about to waste my life - being the perfect daughter and the perfect wife. I couldn't."
He nods. He expected nothing less. You weren't some trophy wife.
"Matthew didn't want me to work after we got married. But I wanted something to work towards. Something that would be mine.  It wasn't fair that just because Dominic was the eldest son - that he would get it all. Everything. The entire empire. It was the one thing Matthew could never deny me. He wouldn't have dared."
Aaron's eyes widen as the realization begins to sink in. He takes in your gaze - blazing with renewed fire and fury at the situation you'd been in. The fervor within to escape, be your own person within the confines of the life you were in.
"My father - he fought me on it. Because the thing is, sons inherit the earth. Sons and not daughters." You take a deep breath, watching Aaron who appears to have followed along marvelously, because you can tell that he knows exactly what you're trying to say now.
"I showed him, however -- " You nod your head shakily "-- how I had built connections with all the right people. How I was smarter, would work harder, be better than anyone else he could possibly hope for to fill his shoes."
"You'd take over." His voice is low and the words feel reluctant on his tongue. Resigned despite the truth of them.
You nod. There it was - it was finally out there. Your worst secret that no one else had ever known. This secret had gone to the grave with your father. You hadn't even told John, knowing how disappointed he would've been in you - especially so soon after Julian's passing.
Aaron looks at you, taking in the guilt behind your eyes, the fear at revealing this to him. He knows too, that you're right. That if you had applied yourself to that, even half as well as you did to your job, you would've done it brutally well.
"That's why you think you aren't going to heaven," he concludes, his hands still rubbing up and down your back. He can feel your heart beating rapidly against his chest. It wasn't killing your father. It was this. "Sweetheart, you didn't do it, though. You didn't."
"I would've," you argue. "If Uncle Robert hadn't told me, even with Julian dead, I would've. I signed up for all of it Aaron. He trained me. He groomed me. Those things that you wrote in your letter to McKinney - all about how I'm adept at reading people. Because I can manipulate anyone into doing anything I want. He taught me how to do that. That I have an aptitude for navigating politically nuanced situations - because he showed me how to get close to the people that really matter. That I am exceptional at tactical planning - because from that day onwards, he planned out my entire life. And I let him. I helped him. Everything I did, anyone I spoke to, was all part of it. Part of his plans. So when I left, he wasn't ready to let go. He wasn't ready to waste his investment in me." The words leave you like a storm - evidence in the case you'd been building against yourself, carved from marble and sitting heavy against your heart for the past decade. You hated how much of him you saw in yourself.
You're breathing really hard and there are tears clinging to your lashes as Aaron continues to hold you, pulling you in even closer, if that were possible. He couldn't even imagine how long you'd carried this with you. Nearly a decade of guilt and for what? For something you hadn't even carried through with.
"You didn't actually do it," he repeats himself, brushing his lips against your forehead, knowing that right then that's what you need. All the reassurance that he doesn't see you any differently. That he never could. Especially not for this.
"Aaron, I would've been someone the Bureau goes after. Someone you'd have gone after. But the difference is, I would've never been caught."
Again, he knows you're right. Aaron isn't even surprised really at your entire confession - it stood to reason that you'd want the keys to the kingdom. From what he knew of you and your siblings, you really would be the person who was most capable, despite the dubious nature of the job. He's not naïve enough to think you couldn't have done it if you wanted to. You would've been exceptional at it. But you didn't. Given the chance today, you wouldn't. For him, that's what mattered.
He brushes the hair out of your face tenderly, sweeping away all the wisps and baby hairs, holding your face in his hands. "You need to forgive yourself, Y/N. You need to realize that there is a difference between signing up for something and actually doing it. What you actually did, that's what matters. Regardless of the circumstances. That's what truly happened."
You're quiet, so he holds you. He can feel the tears trickling down your face, onto his chest as you bury your head into him once more.
It was an upheaval, telling him all of this. It's Aaron - and despite everything awful that you've revealed just then, he's being kind, compassionate, and understanding. You just told him that you'd essentially signed up to do every evil job known to mankind and he was comforting you. Making sure that you wouldn't beat yourself up. That you forgave yourself. He didn't even - it was as if it didn't even matter to him. How could it not, though? How could it not claw at him, being tangled up with someone he knows to be entrenched in evil?
"You are a good person, Y/N. A wonderful person. This - this one thing doesn't define you. Being good is a series of decisions and choices in that direction. One thing doesn't derail it entirely. That's what amends are for. What forgiveness is for. To show us that no matter what, we always have a chance." Aaron could only hope that you saw yourself the way he saw you. As someone who tried to be good. As someone who was good, through trying alone.
You want to believe him. You do. It sounds peaceful. But how do you know if you've made enough amends? How do you know if you've done enough?
He knows you're struggling to believe him. He wants to convince you, paint it into your skin, emblazon it onto your soul in a manner so unmistakable that you'd never question it again. You're a good person. He needs you to believe it. Desperately.
Aaron tilts your face up by your chin, his lips meeting yours intensely. "You are a wonderfully good person, Y/N" His whisper falls against your lips, forcing you to swallow in his words. Breathe them in. Taste them. Let them settle into your stomach.
He places another kiss to the turn of your neck, tongue peaking out to lick at mark he'd left earlier, soothing over it. "You're a hero. You save people." He will make you believe it.
You watch in awe as he shifts, placing another kiss to the swell of your breasts. "You take such good care of me and Jack." He will make you believe that you're the good he sees in life. Through all the horrors he sees day in and day out, he looks to you and he sees goodness and purity, laughter and joy.
You can feel the tears welling up again in your eyes, for an entirely different reason as you watch him. Watch this man, make his way down the length of your body, reminding you that you conquer monsters for a living. Remind you that you took down your father and in turn prevented him from doing more evil. Impress upon you the importance of everything you've accomplished since then - all the people you've saved, all the happiness you've brought, all the people you've loved.
You can't help but press yourself to him. Closer to him. Because his touch is the forgiveness you can never seem to give yourself. His touch is pure. His touch is good. It is divinity itself. Maybe if he touched you enough, it could make up for it all. Letting his essence cover up everything that came before.
Aaron draws up on his haunches, having just kissed your clit, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. You taste like what he imagines sunshine might taste like. He moves you up with him, into his lap and waits until you've met his mouth of your own volition, before pulling you down onto his cock, seating you fully against him.
You can taste yourself on his lips. You can feel him inside you so entirely, consumingly, fully. He clutches onto you, the drag of him inside you so powerful and potent, the bubbling euphoria encasing you. Your arms curl around his shoulders, fingers in his hair, as his wrap around your hips, helping you ride his cock exquisitely. Vastly, painstakingly slow.
Aaron watches you in his lap, taking him in - his. Mine. Mine. Mine. A chant on repeat in his brain as your wet, velvety walls grip him like a vice. Your beautiful pink lips parted ever so slightly, eyes half lidded. In his lap, against his body, taking his cock. This - this was goodness. You were the source of all pleasure, delight, and happiness that he feels. If that is not goodness, then what is? If the God he calls God didn't recognize you as such, then what kind of God was he? Because he would gladly worship at your altar instead, if need be.
His hands grip you excruciatingly tight against him, unwilling to leave even the semblance of room between the two of you. It was as though he began where you ended and you ended where he began. "I don't care if you believe you're going to heaven or not," he declares, watching you take him. "I'm going to believe it enough for the both of us."
Before you can say anything in response, he draws your attention downwards, forcing you to watch. Watch as he exits you, wet and shiny, drenched in your arousal. Watch as he brings you back down, entering you immeasurably slowly and causing you to clench and flutter around him. His.
You look back up, meeting his warm brown eyes, shining with love and compassion and the utmost respect. Everything that made you fall in love with this man. You watch as he pushes into you, moves you just so - so as to perfectly hit that spot inside you. You tilt your head back on a moan, your body shuddering and your back arching once more, pushing you closer and closer against him. When you return to face him, he looks at you. His eyes fixed on you. That look on his face, was nothing short of reverent.  
You come achingly fast, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you shudder around him, taking in his release. He continues through it, pushing his cum back into you in the process, keeping it there, mingling with both of your earlier release.
You're entirely weak as you sit in the cradle of his arms, balancing on his thighs. Your mind is far away and present at once. Present only in him - his touch, his feel, his lips, his words - surrounding you thoroughly.
You are both unhurried in your movements as you clean up together, no need or desire to speak further, content in the silence of one another.
Aaron cleans up the bed, making sure there are fresh sheets, as he watches your tired body put on the small slip you'd left out earlier. Your hair was wet again and he grabs a fresh towel, drying it once more as you lean against him, unable to stand on your own for much longer, your body still sore. He can see the marks he'd left behind blooming and he takes extra care as he urges you towards the freshly made bed. You slip in to your side as he lifts the duvet, quickly climbing in beside you and tucking the two of you into the covers - swaddling your body against his own. He places a gentle kiss to your lips, murmuring his love against them, the echo of his words reverberating against them. You fall asleep first, entirely spent, physically and emotionally. With any luck you'll enter a deep, dreamless sleep. He can hear your steady and even breaths paralleled with the slow rise and fall of your chest, persuading him to join you in slumber.
Even if you didn't go to heaven - if for some God forsaken reason you were denied entrance - he'd willingly, gladly, go to hell with you.
With that final thought, he gives in to the call of your warmth and the sound of your breaths, allowing himself to be drawn into sleep beside you.
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I would like to present (extremely briefly; it's more of an invitation to their thoughts rather than anything else) two approaches that touch on a creative technique used by Przybyszewska, which has been spotted by some of her scholars, albeit each in its own way. Ewa Graczyk maintains that Przybyszewska did not write a historical drama in any way, but rather described a completely different reality, an universum in which the same events happen, but which doesn't take place on Earth, with us in it. She describes, then, something which I call The French Revolution', taking after mathematics' nomenclature. Kazimiera Ingdahl, on the other hand, spots traces of gnostic and manichean ideologies in Przybyszewska's writing, which, as we all know, are based solidly on the contrast between Heaven and Hell, knowledge and numbness, soul and mind. I mention them here solely to point out there is a dualism in her works, it is important and easily recognizable.
I have nowhere near the amount of erudition these scholars do, so I will constrict myself to some more visible matters. In my previous post about Antoine, I've made a remark that stuck with me for far longer than I had expected, and so I decided to elaborate on it.
The passage I'm talking about is this: because it could potentially reveal Saint-Just as another Danton-like minded individual, looking for power for himself through sacrifices of others. I want to explore whether Przybyszewska really did construct both of them alike?
To me it appears very probable, as crazy as it sounds. First of all, ALL of the personages are created in some reference to Robespierre. He is the only singular, original mind amongst them all, not to mentoin an axis around which other revolve, and so all of them, whether we like it or not, are somewhat similar to each other. Second of all, she clearly went in the direction of mirroring certain scenes, ideas, expressions (which I personally love to track down and compare them later), and it's exactly the same when talking about certain individuals. The two pairs (Robespierre – Saint-Just and Danton – Desmoulins) come to mind right away. They are constructed as parallels at least in some aspects and at least to some extent.
Wouldn't that, however, put Saint-Just and Desmoulins on the same/similar level, aren't they the ones who creat a parallel pair? Well, yes and no. I think they are a unit when it comes to personal matters, for rather obvious reasons. But I also think they are both put in similar situations, and yet their thinking is polar opposite of each other. They are both allowed to Robespierre's most personal sphere, and yet their reactions are completely different, which is one among the reasons as to why one of them meets a sad end by all accounts, and the other can die somewhat happy (as I will always mantain: if Przybyszewska managed to finish Thermidor, I am one hundred percent sure she would depict Antoine as one dying boldly and proudly, if only beause he died for a great cause and alongside Robespierre). On the other hand, spiritually and mentally, Camille resembles Maxime way, way more than Danton. They are both... maybe not exactly soft, but emotional. The main difference between them is Maxime is able to rein his feelings in when necessary (again, not always, not completely; vide his late night visit at Desmoulins', vide his attempt and saving him from the Luxembourg Palace), but as far as differences go, this one is actually minor. They are put in different positions, but their reactions are similar.
I would also wager to say Saint-Just and Robespierre don't have that much in common with each other in the plays, leaving out their political stances and their relationship. They are very different in terms of character traits: Maxime is more forgiving, calmer, quieter in all aspects. Antoine is more of a quicksilver, and also is regarded more as a tool in Maxime's hands, which I mean in the best way possible. While he has his own opinions, sometimes quite different to that of Robespierre's, he only entertains them in Maxime's presence, so that no one can put a splinter between them and turn them against each other. When they are turned against each other (during their quarrels, yes, but also during Thermidor, which is a beautiful study of such a case), he defers to Maximilien humbly and holds no grudges against him. This is pretty much the only soft side he ever presents to the audience, for when facing any other characters, he is sarcastic  if not downright hostile, the only exception I can think of being Eleonore. He's not gentle, not even with Robespierre whom he respects so much.  (I cannot get over how badly Wajda interpreted this in his movie, where in his very first scene Antoine brings Maxime an apple-tree branch in full blossom; while a sweet gesture, it made little sense, for the director not only didn't establish their special bond in any way, cutting their very important scene in Act II and a lot of their exchange of words in Act V out, but completely ignored the fact that in the play they did talk about trees blossming, but it was Maxime who pointed this out to Antoine. Honestly, it would make much more sense if in the movie he was the one giving Antoine flowers; altough I don't trust it would be executed well, so perhaps the best scenario would be to drop it altogether.)
This leaves Antoine and Danton as the unlikely pair. Here I wouldn't necessarily say they are put in different positions (following my train of comparison), because – depending on if you believe the confrontation between Danton and Robespierre to be honest or not – there is enough evidence in the play to mantain both of them want to  establish power over nation through Robespierre. Danton is the villain of the play, but he isn't blind, he too wants to use Maximilien as a face of the dictature, as a tool to obtain more "normal" power for himself (normal power here would equal to money, respect, high office; the "abnormal" power is what Robespierre sort-of-dreams-of, an influence over people to direct them into doing what is necessary for the good of the whole of the nation, or better yet, the world). And Antoine wants more or less the same thing, the exception being he doesn't care at all for personal gains. He doesn't necessarily believe in Robespierre's visions of the future, one could even argue he doesn't understand them (this is clearly shown in Thermidor, where he reacts with a headache once Robespierre unfolds his plan in front of him: Stop it, Maxime. I can't keep up with you anymore.); he does, however, see the neccesity of establishing the dictature or some other extraordinary mean to obtain the total power over the state. Both he and Danton are blessed with a far-fetching political vision, the only thing differentiating them from Robespierre is that he's a much more brilliant chess player than any of them, when they can see few moves forward, he's already seen all the possible outcomes of the match. And all of these outcomes are bad, for Maxime is characterised as a pessimist, while Antoine and Danton are, generally speaking, optimistically inclined. Youthful foolishness indeed, except Antoine is not foolish! He's just optimistic. In Danton, the optimism takes a form of boldness and bravado, in Saint-Just it manifests as an unwavering faith in the one he considers to be so much more superior to himself, and also a certain amount of contempt for the ones he considers to be inferior. This is another trait he shares with Danton, and we have to admit, Przybyszewska did a really good job at presenting the same trait in them both in such different ways, that we like one, hate the other.
There is also the matter of how they treat Camille and what they think of him. Here, both are jealous, I think. Jealous of the special place Camille has in Robespierre's heart, scornful of his abilities as a politician and a journalist, disinclined to him as a person. Danton cares for him as far as his utility in being a leverage on Robespierre goes, but I don't think he hoards any warm feelings for him personally, and I don't say it only because he was willing to sacrifice Camille purely out of spite. A much better example to show what I mean is that Danton seems to have a much better functioning, more honest and professional relationship with Delacroix than with Camille, whom he keeps in the dark about absolutely everything from start to finish. I don't know if it was meant to be a symbol or not, but in their very last scene in the jail cell, Camille has to beg Danton not to snuff out the candle, which Danton does, albeit very reluctantly. In turn, Saint-Just talks about Camille in language dripping with contempt and jealousy of purely personal kind, offending him left and right, right to Robespierre's face – not to hurt Maxime, but to "open his eyes", so to speak. In one particularly harsh sentence he compares Camille to a dog, a child and a prostitue all in one breath. He not only doesn't regard him as an opponent, but barely recognizes him as a human being worth respect, in which he is sadly very similar to Danton.
Weirdly enough, they both regard Maximilien as human, which I think is interesting to notice. It would be really easy to write them in such a style that leaves way for them to see Robespierre as something more, something almost extraterrestrial, somebody who posseses abilites greater than normal humans do. And yet:
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The first image is from The Last Nights of Ventose, my own translation, and it's directly from Antoine's compassionate speech. I didn't include Robespierre's response, because he just deflected, but deflection does mean he doesn't fully agree, so it's yet another similarity.
One more thing that comes to mind in a comparison like this is that Danton threatens Robespierre with the ultimate power. He doesn't think that Maxime will be able to live with it, with himself, if he ever decides to go this one step futher and become a dictator. Is this is because he wouldn't be able to live with himself, or does he truly underestimate Maxime, or he simply wants to make sure Maxime would not go in this direction precisley because he knows he would then be ustoppable? How very telling then, that in Antoine's mouth the very same thing is not a threat, but a promise! This ultimate power is born out of necessity, and it's a grace for the whole nation, because no other person could bear the weight of this "crown", but Maxime.
The main difference between Saint-Just and Danton, I think, is something which we have to believe, it's not written clearly anywhere, and this is also the thing I briefly touched uppon in the aforementioned post: we have to believe that Antoine has pure intentions, because we sure know Danton does not. These were the embers fueling the suspiscion in Maxime when he couldn't understand why Antoine would possibly push for the dictature so much – is his heart pure? This sounds overly dramatic, perhaps, but I think this dramaticism aligns perfectly with Maxime's overall characterisation. I think all readers believe in his good intentions, and the parallels constructing the characters help immensely in this judgement, for if Danton is rotten to the core, Antoine is as steady and pure as a marble column. Robespierre even calls one a pig, while the other deserves to be named an Apostle of liberty.
There is, however, another similarity between them, too. Both Antoine and Danton are willing to be dishonest in order to achieve their goals. This is this one thing that's hard for Robespierre to swallow, for he – like Camille – values honesty really highly and if he could, he'd always act honestly. Saint-Just, not to mention Danton, has no such scrupules. He sees the greater necessity as something erasing all other circumstances, and for this greater picture he is willing to sacrifice some of his integrity as a human being. With Danton, the situation is even less complex, for I don't believe he would be sacrificing his integrity in any way – this dishonesty lays at his very core and comes natural to him.
The arguments Saint-Just presents, and which differs from Robespierre's point of view, are also different from that of Danton's. Danton's vision of the present is filled with contempt for the people, for the masses who are less brilliant than him and few others are. It is worth noting that Przybyszewska really did think like this, this is something she believed in and while reading Danton's speeches in Act II Scene 3, what we actually hear is her own train of thoughts. The only difference is that she didn't disdain the people they way he did. She thought that being a mass, an unnamed pulp of flesh is not a bad thing (it was perhaps unfortunate, and I am sure thinking she was a genius like Robespierre helped her in maintainign this view). Base material is a nourishment for those who will lead these masses. We – the lesser people – are absolutely necessary for them – the greater ones – so that they can lead us out of the night and into the new epoch of enlightement, and there is nothing humiliating in being this nourishment/tool/base. Danton understood it only partially, for he wasn't ready for the greatest sacrifice of all: to be a genius, one has to get rid of everything personal, all needs and desires must be kept aside, and never again spoken of. Robespierre understood it, and I think Antoine did too. I think the best evidence for it is that he said, that he doesn't consider himself to be Robespierre's equal. Recently I hoped to prove it was a silent declaration of love; now I want to point out it is one because it showed Robespierre that Antoine understood this great sacrifice one has to make in order to be a leader, and in his own way, he has already done this. He has brushed aside personal vain and glory, his amour-propre, he degraded himself in order to magnify Maxime's importance. Danton may say: It's you whom I adore, but it is Antoine who shows it through his actions as well as his words.  
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ectonurites · 3 years
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Conner Kent in Suicide Squad/the Infinite Frontier era: wtf is going on
Alright lads hello I just need to type out some theories/thoughts about what’s going on with my boy Kon right now. This is more for myself than anything else (just trying to organize my thoughts) but since some of y’all like to hear me talk about comics (and some of this discussion has already been happenin in my inbox) I figured i’d format it and put it on here too! its like 4k words and written over the last few days mostly at 3am. sorry <3 
this is basically just me going like
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Also fair warning that like, I can be wrong and misinterpret things just as much as anyone else can, like I use panels to support why I think what I do but a lot of this stuff is subjective/complicated to understand so like... in general somethings should be taken with a grain of salt, especially because exactly what changes to the universe were made by Death Metal/Infinite Frontier haven’t been super super clearly defined yet. Also sometimes comic writers make the most random nonsensical shit happen, so I as a fan am also allowed to theorize about random nonsensical shit.
But to start: let’s backtrack!
Many months ago when Infinite Frontier was first announced they dropped some promotional art, and I remember being a little confused because. Well:
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(Variant Cover spread for Justice League (2018) #59)
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(Variant Cover spread for Superman (2018) #29)
Notice how Conner is back to his Teen Titans 2003 look up top, but in his YJ 2019 look at the bottom? This seemed weird to me! But then they announced that Conner would be part of the Suicide Squad ongoing title, in the T-shirt look, so I wrote this discrepancy off in my brain as ‘oh I guess that cover was just the last hurrah for punk Kon’ and moved on with life.
In Suicide Squad right away we learn he’s very much so there against his will:
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(Suicide Squad (2021) #1)
Which corroborates more or less what we were also shown in Future State: Suicide Squad, although admittedly it tells... a slightly different version of the events. When I first saw both of these together I just chalked it up to being a bit inaccurate as it’s shown as a memory in Future State:
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(Future State: Suicide Squad #2)
Issue 2 we saw him in action with the Squad, trying to do his best to still be a hero despite the team, but things get a little more interesting in the following issue. It starts off with an account of his history
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(Suicide Squad (2021) #3)
This page gave me a few immediate red flags, mostly minor things that had to do with coloring, so more irl problems than things to take seriously in-universe (Kon’s pants are the wrong color in the first Superboy shot, and Bart’s Impulse costume is in Kid Flash colors instead of the correct Impulse ones) but then also it just bugged me the phrasing “he joined Young Justice” when he was a founder of the team, he didn’t join it he made it with Tim and Bart.
But again, chalked that stuff up to just.... writers/artists being inconsistent/unaware of things that they should be aware of, or even Nocturna just not being specific with details. But it did still strike me as a little odd considering the very accurate use of villains in those same shots, Scavenger who was a reoccurring bad guy from Kon’s solo days and showed up basically nowhere else (even holding the Spear of Lono and everything!) and Billy/Harm (Greta’s brother) from Young Justice.
But then a few pages later we got this:
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(Suicide Squad (2021) #3)
Which is interesting. My first instinct was to think he’s being drugged w kryptonite or something thats leaving him hazy/out of it, but my thoughts on that have kinda changed, we’ll get there in a bit. But in general the context of ‘something’s wrong’ made the slight discrepancies on some details of his own history make more sense.
I also want to then bring up the next part to this story, the crossover issue in Teen Titans Academy.
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(Teen Titans Academy #3)
So a few things. Does it feel weird to anyone else that Conner Kent, a known previous Titan who literally has a framed picture of himself in a case there, would set off alarm sensors like that? Wouldn’t he be... recognized as a Titan not an intruder by their sensors? Interesting! Anyways.
He looks really pained looking at that picture, and sad, and almost frustrated, which ya know makes sense and hurts my heart because he misses them! He misses his friends and being happy. 
But, importantly for a criticism I wanna make thats less theory related and more just me bein annoyed at Tim Sheridan, that’s a picture of Conner. Right there. That’s Superboy, on display at Teen Titans Academy, so the people who frequent this building would know who he is and what he looks like and be able to recognize him, he’s even in the same outfit and everything. Alinta recognized him at the end of Suicide Squad #3. 
So why does only one person during this big fight then comment on his presence?? Why doesn’t it get a bigger reaction???
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(Teen Titans Academy #3)
And after the fight we don’t see any on panel moment of Wallace going up to the staff Titans (who weren’t present for the fight) and saying like “HEY NIGHTWING UHHH SUPERBOY WAS WITH THE SUICIDE SQUAD?” we just see him talking with his friends upset about Crush leaving. We see Alinta talking to them but we don’t see the exact dialogue. So I do just wanna take the writer by the shoulders and shake him a little bit and ask WHY because that just feels like... something you’d wanna address on panel! This is like the first time since joining the squad that Kon’s at all in contact with people from his life before Waller got involved, I feel like not addressing those people’s reactions to it/not discussing it at least a little bit on panel (especially when Conner CAME UP in the previous TTA issue, Dick brought him up and everything!!!) is a really odd choice. Maybe it’ll happen next issue and i’m just impatient, but who knows. Anyways, gripes with Sheridan aside, lets move on.
I wanna bring up how Conner... doesn’t really respond to Wallace’s question? At all? Except to just fight him off, not even an attempt at a ‘Sorry’ or anything? (the ‘Ha! That all you got?!’ seems to be coming from Culebra not Conner, although the placement of the bubble is vague enough it could be that it was supposed to be Conner? but it seems more like what she’d say, especially as she’s grabbing Emiko like that) That just feels weird. It feels off. In general he speaks so little in Suicide Squad #3 and this issue. Tbh it almost feels like he doesn’t really recognize Wallace which I mean I suppose they never exactly met (they would have theoretically during Death Metal, basically all past/present Titans were together for a while during that), but Kon’s been back in existing long enough he’d have a sense of who current heroes are anyways.
But right, so, lots of little things that feel weird... that gets us caught up to the most recently released comics... but in this household we look at solicits as they drop. Which gives us some info on what’s coming up a few months ahead of time, albeit without full context obviously. Issues #4 and #5 don’t mention Conner in their descriptions or show him on the covers at all, because there’s just other plot things going on, so ya know seems things will be quiet for him for a bit.
But then we got the August solicitations and oh BOY it’s a doozey for him! And some things start to kinda connect perhaps!
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I want to just take a moment to look at that specific wording. “The teen calling himself Conner Kent” I’m probably reading too much into it but that feels deliberate, like why wouldn’t you just say ‘Conner Kent’? Usually these kinds of descriptions are trying to keep a low word count, not add in extra words that don’t need to be there. It makes it feel like that’s a name he’s using that... doesn’t actually belong to him.
So the theory I want to propose (that has been floating around already) is that based on these covers and the description, and how the Conner we’ve been seeing in Suicide Squad apparently talks about his own personal history like he’s ‘reading a wikipedia entry’ and had little response to people he should be aware of like Wallace and apparently isn’t recognized as a Titan through a bio-scan and also bearing in mind those initial promo arts with two separate looks at the same time for him... I think we're looking at a situation where the Conner in Suicide Squad so far has actually been a clone of original Conner (like... like he’s Match 2.0 or somethin) the whole time, that’s just not aware he’s not the original. 
Now that’s the base theory I wanna work with and build off of, but there’s MANY different directions that could go in/ways that could work.
For example, one idea is that the Conner we saw in #1 who was chained up is the original Conner, and he’s been being cloned and held captive, so everything else with Conner in Suicide Squad so far has been this Match 2.0 
Another idea could be the original Conner in #1 is also the Conner in #2 who Waller had then commented wasn’t ready during the mission in Arkham and had zapped with a lil Kryptonite, and after that moment she took him off the field because his spirit hadn’t been broken enough to be obedient (as he was a lot quieter in Issue #3 & the TTA crossover compared to #2, and #3 is when the Nocturna thing with the history happened)
Or it could even be original Conner in #1, then in #2 was one clone that wasn’t ‘ready’ that after that point she stopped using him, and switched to a diff clone for #3, because like that first cover did show a LOT of clones. That could be more just ‘artistic interpretation’ or something, covers sometimes do exaggerate/mislead, but it also could indicate we’re looking at a lot of clones.
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(Suicide Squad (2021) #2)
With all of those in mind I also wanna bring up this little bit from Future State Suicide Squad:
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(Future State: Suicide Squad #2)
Again Future State is a ‘possible future’ so stuff from it isn’t set in stone, but the idea of ‘she still has his YJ 2019 outfit somewhere’ makes me think it could be something along the lines of like, Clone!Conner finds original Conner and frees him and he gets back his YJ outfit, which could lead to like the imagery on that variant cover/the idea from my very first part of this post where I was talking about Kon being shown in both outfits in different places.
Alternatively entirely from all that, another option is that she maybe got ahold of what was needed to clone Kon, but doesn’t even have the original Kon in her possession. (again with the Future State thing, she could be lying since elsewhere in Future State we did also see a copy of YJ 2019 Kon’s costume in one of the Jon-focused Future State comics in a display case 🤷‍♂️) Which could also lead to that confrontation on the variant cover & the promo art thing... and could also explain why we have seen nothing about anyone looking for him, because in that sort of scenario he wouldn’t have even been missing in the first place.
There’s a lot of possibilities! It’s still too early to solidly know anything, but I feel pretty confident we’re entering another cloning related plot with our Clone Boy so it’s... ya know. Clone time. On the one hand it’s annoying because god we have done clone/multiple Kons plots before. We’ve done them so much.
BUT on the other hand, I think it could be interesting to use this situation to tie into some older stuff from pre-reboot that I can see some connections to, because due to Infinite Frontier altering the world and people’s memories it’s all technically fair game storytelling-wise again (and like, the use of Scavenger specifically in that flashback way above, who’s not a super well known villain in general, makes me think maaaaybe the writer did do some of their Kon homework)
Something also just dawned on me that i’m not quite sure what it means but still is worth mentioning: The Conner here in Suicide Squad is back in his Teen Titans Vol. 3 outfit, and his history as he tells it stops during Teen Titans Vol. 3. And doesn’t... mention when he died? It feels like it... stopped before that, because like I feel if he was telling his life history (even the wiki version LMAO) the part where he died and came back would be pretty important to bring up?? And Nocturna specifically says that he didn’t explain how that stuff from TT Vol. 3 then led to him in his current situation. That’s a pretty big gap (like uhhh everything from resurrection until he got lost on Gemworld + all the rest of the Young Justice 2019 stuff?) So like.. there could be something funky going on here that has to do with that. 
Similarly when he flashes back in Future State: Suicide Squad to his past it also goes right from Teen Titans Vol. 3 to the current Suicide Squad run? Like I get it’s one page so they can’t show that much, but the fact that there’s now two places that flash back to that same specific time period and nothing past it until the Suicide Squad feels just... noticeable! Not concretely indicative of something, but noteworthy.
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(Future State: Suicide Squad #2)
Like...this almost has me thinking maybe it could be something where like, they tampered with his dead body and cloned from that? BECAUSE, for those of you who may not be familiar with how Kon’s resurrection (during Final Crisis: Legion of 3 Worlds) worked, when he came back there was time travel involved! He was brought back to life in the future (like. Legion of Superheroes era) because it was a process that took that thousand or so years to work/heal him (essentially because of his hybrid dna the process that healed Clark when he had died back in Death of Superman/Reign of the Supermen in the 90s just took a lot longer, but its the same Kryptonian healing chamber thing) meaning when he came back to the present alive again, his dead body was still also in the present just in it’s process of healing. Meaning especially if we’re bringing back stuff from before the reboot, Kon likely has his dead body just vibing out there while he’s goin around living life 🤷‍♂️
SO them doing something related to that could explain the choice to put him back in the T-shirt (since thats what he wore in the era his brain would be caught up to if we’re relating this to when he died) and why he’d recognize himself in a group photo with Bart, Cassie and Tim but maybe not someone like Wallace who didn’t exist back then. I don’t know, this branch of thought is still half baked. Will maybe come back and elaborate on this later. But I’m now really thinking there might be a connection to the early Teen Titans Vol. 3 era specifically because of it being referenced twice in stuff with this Suicide Squad.
ANYWAYS moving on, this is probably a shot in the dark and I only thought of it because I just was reading 90′s Superboy, but right away when thinking about ‘Amanda Waller’ and ‘Cloning Kon’ I was reminded of some stuff about the circumstances around the first clone that was made of Conner: Match.
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(Superboy (1994) #35)
Match was created by an organization called ‘The Agenda’, that was after a while primarily under the control of The Contessa, Lex Luthor’s ex-wife, aided by Amanda Spence who had a personal grudge against Kon bc her dad was Paul Westfield the guy Kon was originally cloned from (before the Lex/Clark retcon). They were the big bad guys of an arc called The Evil Factory in Superboy (where Cadmus personnel got replaced with clones) which also then tied into the Sins of Youth event over in Young Justice (Remember how Match was posing as Superboy for a while there? yeah). After those plot lines finished the Agenda was pretty defeated (Amanda Spence was still out there and came back later but still) and... who got their hands on the remaining Agenda tech?
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(Superboy (1994) #87)
Why none other than Amanda Waller herself!
If they re-canonized pieces of this (which also tied into Young Justice which ya know, YJ 2019 was all about re-establishing stuff from YJ even before Death Metal happened soooo) it would totally make sense for Waller to have complete access to the exact technology used to clone Conner before. 
Now, a thing to consider here though is what happened to Kon after he’d been cloned that first time, where his DNA got all destabilized by the process (and he needed to go through a procedure with Roxy as a genetic template to keep him together, which was how he got stuck at age 16 for a while). This was something where he was fine for a period of time before the side effects began to kick in. Now, I think it’s worth mentioning that was also back in the days where he was not yet Lex & Clark’s clone, but still Paul Westfield’s. So there could easily be a ‘now that certain Kryptonian genes have kicked in as he got his newer powers it doesn’t destabilize him the same way’ reasoning or something along those lines to avoid this problem. Alternatively, it could be an interesting thing to embrace rather than retcon away, especially if we’ve been seeing Clone Conner in action and Original Conner hasn’t been in our focus, things could be wrong with him that we just don’t know about.
Another branch of thinking that I think is even MORE a shot in the dark but could be interesting (or again even related to what I just said, could be a combo of things) is if this somehow ended up related to those clones that were reverse engineered from the remains of Match from the very end of Teen Titans Vol. 3
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(Teen Titans (2003) #99)
All of them were then taken down with Kryptonite and killed in battle (by Rose & Damian) 
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(Teen Titans (2003) #100)
But like... idk man if Waller got her hands on those corpses or even just the data from Dr. Caligan that he extracted from Match to make them... that could also be a potential way to make some new Conner clones, and that could be why the bio-scan thing at Titans Tower wouldn’t work properly because of the thing he says above about it not being a “complete match’
One thing I don’t think is the case, but has been brought up to me, is stuff with New 52 Kon. I’ve talked extensively about New 52 Kon in recent weeks because I read through all his stuff, but the thing that makes me shy away from him being part of this situation is the fact that... he’s not interchangeable with Kon the way I think some people think he is. He wouldn’t visually be recognized as Original Kon because he is literally on a genetic level a separate person. They’d prob look related, sure, like they’d pass for brothers because they both have Clark’s DNA, but New 52 Kon has Lois’ DNA and Original Kon has Lex’s. New 52 Kon would likely look more like Jon, rather than Kon. Lois specifically commented in an Action Comics issue that Kon had some resemblance to Lex, even. So like, things like Wallace recognizing him or him looking at his own matching reflection alongside the group picture at the Tower... those wouldn’t happen the same way if this was New 52 Kon.
Now I think it coooould theoretically be possible for Waller to have gotten her hands on that future N.O.W.H.E.R.E. cloning tech that had been used to make New 52 Kon, like I wouldn’t rule that out. Because she knows where the remains of their bases are as shown in Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #16-17, and like, Harvest is dead so she could easily just send teams out there to gather shit if she wanted. 
Onto some other things I don’t think are actually related but that I was reminded of/wanted to address:
I feel i’d be a bad timkon fan if during all of this discussion of past stories with cloning Kon I didn’t even bring up Tim’s cloning attempt stuff, but I think it would ultimately be unrelated. His tech was stolen from Luthor, and his attempts didn’t succeed because he was trying to build from scratch without Cadmus’ the data about how they altered the DNA from the original process. 
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(Teen Titans Vol. 3 #34)
Then that initial cover for the annual really reminded me of part of the Hollow Men story from Superboy Vol. 5 just with like... Kon in a room full of copies of himself. I don’t think this story would be related either because it was more magic Tannarak stuff rather than regular cloning, but ya know. It’s the imagery.
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(Superboy Vol. 5 #9)
It also really reminded me of the stuff from Hyper-Tension which was hypertime stuff not cloning but again just... visually.
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(Superboy Vol. 4 #62)
In general I don’t think we’re EVER gonna see Black Zero or any of these multiverse Superboys again LMAO.
To try to sum up all of this in a way that might make sense here’s kinda a... flowchart of some of my main ideas for what the cloning situation could be/how the logic could work. Again this is borrowing stuff from across continuities because Infinite Frontier means theoretically anything’s fair game. (Also I don’t think I mentioned this earlier but I do mention it in the chart, but I think it’s also reasonable that Waller could get her hands on Cadmus tech if Cadmus is like properly made canon again. She just has funky government connections!)
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Also I just now thought of this now several hours after I already made the chart and I don’t wanna remake it so sorry not incorporating it there but I remembered there was also that bit during House of Kent where Clark took Kon to the Hall of Justice and they were running some tests on him, so I’m thinking it’s also possible Waller got ahold of that data/that might be how she found out about Kon in the first place for this timeline. And they indicated that there was something wrong with him there, where he might eventually lose his powers or something, so maybe she tried to do cloning stuff to be able to have a copy of Superboy in his prime or something??? before that started kicking in. I don’t know, just more things to consider:
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(Action Comics (2016) #1028)
ANYWAYS in conclusion: there is clone fuckery of some sort happening, I’m curious where it’s gonna go, and I just want Kon to be okay.
If you actually read this uhm. props to you bc this probably makes no sense to anyone but me its just word vomit <3 
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“Flirting” - Gabriel x female!reader
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Summary: Gabriel likes to flirt with the reader who unfortunately is easily flustered in general but especially because of her feelings for him. The Problem? The reader can’t tell if he is sincere or only teasing and making fun of her reactions.
Warnings: suggestive themes, mild swearing (because Dean)
Category: mostly fluff (maybe a little sad at one point)
Words: about 12.000 (wow, I always get carried away… would you like long pieces spilt in two?)
Note: I just recently finished season 8 (so please no spoilers, I already managed to avoid them for so long) so I know that the timelines don’t really match but I didn’t want them to still be moving from motel to motel for this. Also, I know the bunker doesn’t really have a living room area but I decided to add one in the library anyway… Note 2: I miss this archangel way too much for only seeing him in like … four episodes? (I cried twice in the episode … I might have been drunk too though) Note 3: I wanted to focus on my final exams but I had this idea floating around in my head and ‘to get rid of it’ I just decided to write it down... so here my very first piece about a character from supernatural.
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“Flirting” - Gabriel x fem!reader
You had never been good with flirting, neither with starting it nor with responding to it. Sometimes you just didn't realize it was sincere flirting and not just teasing or you got too flustered to properly respond and avoided the situation of answering altogether. Or sometimes you just got angry because of it. How could people stay calm and then playfully respond when someone was flirting with them? Whenever someone tried his luck on you he would definitely not get lucky that night. Your responses would either be blubbering like an idiot or not speaking up at all. To be fair these reactions were far more pleasant for the one starting the flirty banter than for the first guy to ever try his luck on you. When that boy tried to hit on you, you hit him back… literally. Well, what did he expect when he used that horrendous pickup line on you. You couldn't remember the concrete context anymore, only that it happened on school grounds and that it was definitely not his time and place to use that line on you.
"How are you not cold? You’ve been naked in my mind this whole time."
You had been fifteen, maybe sixteen years old at that time and at first you had just blankly starred at the boy your age who looked pleased and proud of himself. However, he only had that expression on his face for a second before you had punched him in the nose in anger and embarrassment. You would have liked the story to end there but of course you had gotten in trouble for it. The boy's nose had started bleeding immediately and a teacher had intervened not a second later. You got escorted to the principal and the boy to the school nurse. Your mother was notified, you were forced to apologize and you even got suspended for a few days. But at the end it had been definitely worth it because after you told your mother why you had punched the boy she laughed heartily and bought ice-cream on the way home. "Some people just have it coming."
 Nowadays you don't react as violent to flirting but you still can't handle it normally and often resolve to running away. You just got flustered far too easily which embarrassed you greatly. The problem? You now were a skilled hunter with two hunter best friends who happened to know an archangel who couldn't stop flirting with you. Whatever situation you were in or regardless of the time you weren't able to escape his more often than not very dirty comments. It seemed like he declared it his mission to make you flustered at least once per day, often more than once. The problem? You really, sincerely and without a doubt liked him. Why? You had no clue since he enjoyed tormenting you so much but there was something about him that lured you in every time.
 Maybe it was his eyes. His brown eyes that weren't dark yet warm and with so much depth they dared you to look further and search for answers to questions you didn't even know. An enigma that didn't want to be resolved but egged you on to search for a resolution you would never find anyway. And even though they were brown it wasn't a solid color. Sometimes, when they caught the light just right, you swore you could see specks of green in them like the renewable leaves growing on the branches of an oak tree after a cold, unforgiving winter. But you often couldn’t look at them long enough to find those small specks. Their brown color itself was like a pot of golden honey illuminated by the beams of the rising spring sun that tricked your mind into a false sense of calmness. Because whenever you would look at them for a moment too long, when you would almost lose yourself in them he would notice and his calm demeanor would instantly change into a teasing glare with a smirk to match.
 Maybe it was the way he carried himself in such a carefree and confident way that made you jealous sometimes. Even though being reserved and careful weren't bad traits for a hunter you found it fascinating how easy-going Gabriel's attitude could be and you wished you could let lose more often too or just be surer of yourself like he was. Just a tiny bit. However, that confidence more often than not evolved into smugness that most of the time made you roll your eyes in annoyance. The smile that would form afterwards was always suppressed by you tightly pressing your lips together. His ego was big enough as it was.
 Maybe it was him supporting you and the Winchesters on hunts sometimes. He was quite skilled even without relying on his angle powers because wiping away a whole vampire nest with one finger clicking wasn't entertaining enough for him. No one complained because one set of hands more was always welcomed. (Okay, Dean sometimes complained.) Of course, if something wasn't going according to plan or someone was about to get hurt he would step in immediately. Or well, almost immediately because it seemed like it always took him a second longer to save Dean and Sam than when saving you.
 Maybe it was his sense of humor that made you snicker and laugh heartily when it wasn't dirty or suggestive. You liked his pranks he pulled on Dean and Sam. Mostly because of their reactions though. Whenever you heard Dean yell through the bunker in anger and frustration you could already guess who had crossed his path. Though sometimes you also became a victim of one of Gabriel's pranks but you rarely got mad because of them. If anything you had waited for the opportunity to have a reason to strike back at him for all the times he had made you flustered. However, your pranks weren't anything compared to what he could and would pull off.
 Maybe it was how approachable he could be sometimes. When you felt stressed or upset he would start a conversation with you to distract you and to set your mind at ease. He was surprisingly easy to talk to or at least whenever he wasn't in a flirty mood which unfortunately he was in often since the last couple of days. You would almost say he got more aggressive with his flirting, not even bothered when Dean or Sam would be present which made you even more flustered. You hated getting flustered over it. You were a hunter for crying out loud. You faced monsters no one would dare to even imagine but you couldn't handle a guy flirting with you? That was your pathetic weakness? But what was equally as embarrassing was whenever Sam tried to talk with you about it and how you should tell him about your feelings. At first you denied it, obviously, but Sam wouldn't butch and you gave in after a few awkward conversations.
 "Are you my mom or something? Asking me that question again and again until I finally answer?" Sam gave you a sour look but continued to stare at you with his arms crossed. "Uh, fine" you gave in and rolled your eyes. "You were right all along. Are you happy now?" "It is a first step" he replied and let his arms fall down to his sides. You shook your head and your arms before your chest immediately. "Nope, not happening." "You have to tell him eventually so why continuing to wait? You are a fierce hunter you can tell someone how you feel about them." You rolled your eyes and laid your head in your hands. Why couldn't Sam just let you be? You knew Gabriel's flirting wasn't well liked with the Winchesters but you were the one he targeted so it was your problem and not theirs. You looked up again with a warning glare. "Yeah right, Sam. I'll just walk up to him and have a serious conversation for once. You witnessed how aggressively flirty he is currently. I can't talk to him about it. He won't listen and I will only feel more stupid because of it. I'll just hope it goes away" you explained but let the last sentence be open for interpretation if you meant Gabriel's flirting or your feelings. It was a disaster. Why did you even feel that way about him? He makes you feel so confused and embarrassed all the time and you didn't like that at all. You furrowed your eyebrows, shrugged your shoulders and sighed in defeat.
 "Why the sour face, sugar?" a familiar voice asked that made you tense up immediately. You turned your head to the left and saw Gabriel leaning against the doorframe. Shit! Had he heard you? Your eyes darted back to Sam in question but he shook his head almost unnoticeable. So Gabriel wasn't standing there for long. A wave of relief washed over you. At least something good was happening to you. Glaring at Gabriel again you huffed. "It is none of your business" you replied defensively and crossed your arms before your chest. "Oh, come on. Now I'm really curious" he said and licked his lips which already made your cheeks slightly heat up. 'Traitor' you thought to yourself. "Just a rough day" you gave in with a small, polite smile, knowing that he wouldn't let you be if you didn't answer. By the sight of your smile his eyes seemed to lighten up before his grin grew almost sinister.
"I didn't think you'd like it rough." Your eyes widened in shock and if your face wasn’t red before it definitely was now. "That's not... wha- I didn't!" you began to stammer. Why would he even say that? Did it even make sense? With your nails digging into the flesh of your arms and wide eyes you stared at the smug archangel. Sam gave out an artificial cough of discomfort which made you look at him with one raised eyebrow. "That's what I was telling you about!" you tried to express over your eyes. He only stared right back at you, seemingly as caught off guard as you. You looked back at Gabriel who didn't even bit back his teasing smirk. "I have to go!" you choked out and squeezed through the door and by Gabriel without hesitation. You didn't care that he probably would be pleased by it, you just had to leave right now and he was standing in the only way out of the room. You needed a break from this. You needed some distance before your face would heat up enough to cook a three course meal on it. Luckily he didn't hold you back just followed your movement with his eyes and let you run away. When Sam coughed again his eyes snapped back to the taller Winchester with one eyebrow raised in question. "Really, Gabriel?" Sam asked annoyed. The archangel only shrugged with a grin and buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket before teleporting away.
 In the past you had handled Gabriel's flirty comments far better than nowadays. Maybe the reasons for that were that he didn't do it that often back than and maybe because you hadn't yet realized how much you really liked him. Now it felt like mockery to you. Was he teasing you so much because of it? Did he know? The problem you always had with flirting was that you could never tell if it was sincere or just a way to express friendly banter. Or in Gabriel's case: teasing you just for fun. Did he do it just for fun? Everything would be so much easier if you just knew what his deal was. You would know if you were making yourself false hopes or if you really had a change. But with the current situation you weren't ready to test the waters.
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  You groaned and let your head fall on the opened book on the table. Sam and Dean had gone out on a hunt a few days ago and you were left behind with research duty. You didn't hate researching for them or research in general but after a few hours of reading an old and complicated worded book while sitting in the same position the lines just got blurry and your body sore. Even with some sweets as "nerve food" you weren't able to get back to your concentrated state. With your arms draped over your head and your nose buried in the book you closed your eyes for a moment. You swore that next time you wouldn't let them leave you behind again. Especially since it was difficult enough to avoid Gabriel with them around to shield you if necessary but when they were gone you were an even easier target.
 "What's the problem, sweetcheeks? Can't concentrate?" You stifled the surprised yelp and after that the annoyed groan that threatened to spill over your lips. Speaking of the devil ... or well archangel. Now you really wouldn't be able to concentrate anymore.
 You looked up slightly to see Gabriel standing next to you, leaning his head down to take a close look at you. His face was so close to you that you could feel the faintest ghost of his breath on your lips. You tensed up immediately, not able to move away or break off the eye contact. His golden eyes held you captive. But there was something else then golden-brown too. Where those the green specks you sometimes thought you saw? You gulped, biting your lip as you saw his eyes wander down to them. You felt a push, a desire to- but you can’t. Not this way. Straightening up you were finally able to escape his eyes and looked to the other side, not wanting to be so close to his face anymore. He didn't even really do anything and you could feel your face heat up already. What were you? Twelve? Why couldn't you just for once control your body around him?
 "It's just painful sitting on this chair for hours" you said trying to have a normal conversation with him again but you should have known better. "Need a pillow to sit on? I can be yours if you want" he said without missing a beat. Your head whipped around to meet his gaze again. You wanted to be mad and lecture him but the moment you locked eyes with him you were unable to speak up properly. He still was only inches away from you and grinned wickedly, a mischievous glint in his light brown eyes. You wanted to look away, hide your eyes but you were unable to free yourself from his hypnotic gaze. These golden honey pots just lured you in every time. You wished you could drop threw a Scooby-Doo like trap in the floor right now just to escape this situation. Or maybe a monster could waltz in and threaten your life? At least that would be something you could handle. Instead you stammered something not even you could decipher, with your heart beating violently against your rips. How did he even know so many suggestive sayings? Clenching your fists, and digging your nails into the palms of your hands in the process, you leaned back to try and increase the distance between him and you. You had noticed that personal space wasn't necessarily something angels understood by being around Castiel a lot too. However, Gabriel sometimes took it to the extreme. Or maybe it just felt that way because every time he got close to you, your body burned up without him needing to say anything.
 You blinked rapidly while you could feel the blush creeping up your neck and face. The smirk on Gabriel's features only seemed to grow as you drove yourself further into embarrassment. Then he suddenly decided you were tortured enough and took a step back before sitting down on the opposite side of the table, still eyeing you to not miss the slightest bit of your reaction. "What was- don't you ever shut up?" you angrily spit, finally able to form a coherent sentence again. The archangel leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed behind his head. Clicking his tongue the smile vanished from his face as he seemed to think about it for a moment, looking up at the ceiling before directing his piercing glance back at you. His smirk already back on his features. "Only when my mouth is preoccupied with something sweet" he said and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Your face grew even hotter and before he could add anything else to it you grabbed one of the chocolate bars you had brought with you for your research session and threw it at him. He caught it with ease. "Here and now shut up!" you bellowed and shifted your focus back to the book. You swore that you wouldn't look up at him again and instead just ignore his antics. "Not what I meant but also not bad" Gabriel said pleased and unwrapped the candy. You of course knew what he had meant but you wouldn't let it happen. Not in that way.
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  The next morning you got a call from Dean, telling you that the hunt has been successful and that they would return now. Though that meant you would still be alone till the evening because the hunt had been far away. You sighed and clamped the phone between your head and shoulder so you could climb the kitchen counter to get a mug from one of the cupboards. It was far too early. Okay it was ten in the morning but you had been up almost all night, ready for any phone calls so you could help if needed. But then you had fallen asleep and Dean's phone call had startled you awake. You had jumped up, ready for any sort of bad news or him yelling a question about the monster through the speaker only to hear that the hunt was successful and finished. So know you needed some well-earned coffee.
 "Are you okay?" Dean asked but you mentally translated it to 'Is he bothering you?'. "No, everything's alright, don't worry" you answered after you stood safe on your feet again with the mug in your hand. You poured the hot, dark liquid into it and sat down at the table. "Does that mean he stopped?" the older Winchester questioned further. You bit back a laugh. "No, of course not. But yesterday wasn't as bad" you lied. Every single day seemed to get worse or at least Gabriel seemed to get even straighter forward with his dirty comments as the days went by. If that was even possible. "If you need an archangel blade just tell us" Dean joked but you could hear the slightest hint of sincerity in his tone too. "Will do, Deano" you laughed back and shook your head. "I'd say drive carefully but I know I would only waste my breath" you grinned and took a sip of your coffee. You could almost see Dean rolling his eyes at you through the phone. "We will be back in a few hours." After that the line went silent and you put your phone back into your pocket.
 You were able to drink about half of your coffee in peace when Gabriel decided to show up. He didn't say anything and if you wouldn't know it any better you would have said that he looked tired. Or hungover. He sat down in front of you, buried his head in his hands and closed his eyes, not speaking a single word. That was unusual. You raised one eyebrow at him. Something was up. You downed the rest of your coffee and stood up to refill your mug. Should you say something? You debated about it in your head but as always your friendly side won. Screw it.
 "Hey Gabriel, do you want some coffee too?" you asked, your back facing him because you were too afraid of seeing his smirk again. You were begging for a normal answer. "That would be great" he only said which made you breathe out in relief. "Coming right up." Knowing Gabriel's sweet tooth habits you poured in a not so healthy amount of sugar into his mug and stirred it before walking back to the table. You set the cup down in front of him and returned to your place, drinking your coffee in silence and avoiding his eyes. "Thanks, sugar" he said and for the first time you blushed but not because of you feeling overly embarrassed or being angry at him. "No problem."
 Then everything was quiet again but you were still debating on talking to him. He seemed really down which was not only unusual for the archangel but also quite alarming. It was also the longest time you two had spent together without him instantly using a flirty comment in a while. You thought about what Dean had said on the phone earlier. Did he stop? Maybe he didn't feel like annoying you anymore. Even more suspicious. Glancing up you observed him for a few moments. He didn't meet your eyes just stared into his coffee mug, his shoulders hanging low. Now that made all your alarm clocks inside your head ring and yell in worry. He would never let an opportunity pass to challenge you with his eyes. Normally he always felt your eyes on him and would meet your gaze almost instantly. You sat up straight. This wasn't normal.
 "Hey, Gabe?" you spoke up to get his attention which he gave you immediately. "Yeah, sugar?" he slightly grinned at you and you hesitated. Maybe he was only playing with you again. It wouldn't be too farfetched. You shook your worries away, your friendly side winning once again. "I just wanted to ask … is something wrong? You seem down" you said. Now a little unsure of yourself because of his grin you began to fidget with the cup between your hands. Maybe this has been a mistake. Maybe you should have just enjoyed the silence for once. "I'm just feeling a little off today" he answered, his smile vanished and he looked back down at his coffee. So your suspensions had been right. You took a sip of your coffee, ready to relax again and breathe out in relief when you caught the smallest glint of roguishness in his eyes. And before you knew it his typical smirk had returned as he looked up at you. "Would you like to turn me on?" Instantly you choked on the small sip of coffee and coughed it back into the mug as it burned your mouth. Now your face really grew hot out of embarrassment. Cursing yourself you tapped against your chest to stop the coughs from fighting their way up. You had to get out of here. "Forget that I said something" you wheezed and stood up with your cup in one hand and the other one pressed against your chest. You had to leave this room right now. "Oh, come on" Gabriel called after you with laughter in his voice. "That one was a real banger." You only groaned audibly and continued your way to your room.
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  You had barricaded yourself in your room for the next few hours. Luckily you had made it angel-prove after an incident that had involved Gabriel a few weeks ago.
 After a tiring hunt you had just wanted to bury your head in your pillows and sleep for 24 hours straight. But you couldn't even get as far as sitting down on your bed. You were only able to take one step inside your room before it happened. You saw Gabriel presenting himself on your bed, grinning at you and one second before it happened you realize what was about to go down. But at that point it was already too late for you to react and you were soaked in some kind of strange, gooey liquid. You couldn't force back the yell of surprise and disgust as the cold substance clung to your clothes and hair. "Gabriel!" you growled and wanted to jump forward, ready to strangle him. Normally you wouldn't get to mad at his pranks but your nerves had been on edge all day and this was the last straw. However, you weren't even able to take one step forward. It seemed like you were glued to the ground. Confused you looked down and tugged on one of your legs with all your might but it wouldn't really butch much. "What is this?" you grumbled and wiped off some of the slime that sticked to your face and hair. Only that it stretched a little but other than that it stayed tangled in your hair. You could hear the archangel snicker which made you look at him again.
 "Gum here often?" he asked with a smirk, holding his head up with one hand while lazily lying on his side. It would have been the perfect pose for a magazine cover wouldn't it be for- wait. What did he just say? "Gum?!" you yelled with your eyes wide in horror which only made him laugh even more. He poured liquid gum on you?! "Gabriel, get me out of here" you demanded while continuing to struggle against the gum. "What do you offer in return?" he talked back still in his model position. You groaned and stopped struggling because you only tangled yourself more in it anyway. Rolling your eyes you shrugged your shoulders in defeat, letting your arms fall down to your sides. "What do you want?" you asked annoyed. Gabriel shifted, now lying on his stomach to face you directly with his head in his hands.
 "What about a kiss?"
 You bit back an angry remark and instead thought of a loophole in his proposition. You needed to get out of here and maybe even get some revenge. But at first you needed some more time to think. "Really? Pulling of this dirty trick on me to get a kiss?" you asked with one raised eyebrow. "I know some more where that one was coming from" he responded with a wink. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before your chest as far as possible. The familiar heat was already tinting your face red again while you grumbled to yourself. "Snap the gum away and you can get what you want" you grumbled and turned your head away from him. He jumped up immediately like a little kid who had heard Santa Claus leave the presents downstairs. "Your wish is my command" he said theatrically and snapped his fingers. The gum you were stuck in disappeared in an instant. Relieved you let the tension in your shoulders out and prepared yourself for what was about to happen. Gabriel walked a few steps towards you with a smug grin on his lips and his arms stretched out. "I'm waiting."
 Your eyes widened. He wanted you to do it? To start the kiss? You groaned internally and bit your lip so it wouldn't threaten to spill over them. "Fine" you growled and walked up to him. You had to make this quick without him noticing what you were planning to do. You stood before him and hesitated for a moment. You felt his eyed looking down on you but you were unable to meet his gaze just yet. Wasn't this something you had wanted? Yes, but not under these circumstances. And you refused to play under his rules. You had to concentrate now so you breathed in deeply before grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and bringing him down to you. You saw the confident glint in his eyes, the sureness of victory, as you pulled him down. He didn't even saw it coming. You took one last deep breath and mustered as much strength as you could in your tired state to headbutt him across the face. He let out a surprised yelp and groaned. You didn't think you would actually be able to hurt him with it you had just wanted to get back at him and his surprised face was all you wanted. After the headbutt you let go of him immediately and pushed him towards the door. "That wasn't a kiss" he complained as you tried to shove him out of your room. "Yes, it was" you hissed and pushed him over the ledge of the doorway and grabbed the door, ready to close it but you paused and looked up at him with a grin. "I hope you enjoyed my Liverpool Kiss!" you sing-songed in a sickly sweet manner before shooting him an angry glare and throwing the door in his face.
 After that you had decided to secure your room because even though you mostly enjoyed his pranks you didn't want them to happen in your room. Also, you didn't need him snooping around there. So if Gabriel really wanted to enter the room you would have to destroy the sigils you drew on your door and walls first. But he would have to give you a good reason to do so.
 Now it was almost four pm so you had spent a good six hours in your room. Dean and Sam still hadn't returned tough, probably because of a stopover at a diner. Your stomach growled at the thought of something to eat. However, that meant you had to leave the room and probably face Gabriel again. But you couldn't stay hungry in your room either. You groaned and stood up from your bed. When you remembered correctly there should be leftover pizza in the fridge. The thought of something to eat spurred you on so you tiptoed to the kitchen as fast as possible.
 It only took a few moments to heat the pizza pieces up again but it felt like an eternity to you. But now you sat at the table again and to ate your favorite pizza with your mouth watering. It was perfect. Only that it wasn't. "You've got a piece for me too?" You flinched and looked up from your plate to see Gabriel sitting in front of you. How did he get there without you noticing? "Ehm" you stammered and leaned back to increase your distance to him. You wanted to be cold and say 'No' but your good, friendly side won once more. "Of course." You shoved the plate in the middle of the table so you both could reach it. You two ate in silence which you appreciated greatly because you wouldn't have been able to handle his flirting right now. And even more surprisingly was that he was the one to put away the empty plate after you two finished the rest of the pizza. He didn't snap his fingers and made the plate disappear, no he stood up and grabbed it before you could and put it in the dishwasher. "What is happening?" you wondered but stayed quiet. Better not addressing it and provoking him to any sort of dirty comments again. You just raised one eyebrow at him as he came to a halt in front of you, looking down at you with a special glint in his eyes you couldn't quite sort into any category. You eyed him skeptically.
 "Want to join me in the library?" he asked and reached out a hand for you to take. Now you raised both eyebrows in confusion. What was he scheming? Tilting your head you glanced suspiciously at his hand and back up to his eyes but you couldn't find anything to support your worries which was the only evidence you needed to know that he really had something planned. "Why? What do you want to do?" you asked too curious for your own good. Even though your instincts told you not to trust his seemingly sincere demeanor you decided to grab his hand anyway. He clasped your hand and the glint in his eyes immediately shifted to something mischievous. But before you could speak up or withdraw your hand he pulled you up on your feet and against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist so you weren't able to escape. Your eyes widened as you unsuccessfully tried to push yourself away from him with your free hand. With your hand pressed against his chest and your whole body tense you looked up to meet his smug gaze. You wanted to narrow your eyes, hiss something, be mad or do anything but the moment you locked eyes with him you froze once again. Why was this always happening? But surprising you the most was that the tension in your shoulders released almost instantly. Under the warmth of his eyes you felt like melting, like ice-cream in the heat of the summer sun, with your cheeks growing hot too. His lips were dangerously close again, his breath tickling them in the most challenging way and the only thing you wanted was to accept it, to go along. But you couldn’t and you won’t. Not this way. Not under his rules. Shaking your head you broke the eye contact once again with great difficulties and cursed yourself for ignoring your instincts. You were a hunter! You were supposed to rely on instincts if everything else failed. Angry at yourself you bit your tongue to stifle any unholy outbreaks. Refusing to meet his eyes again you continued to stare at his chest with your free hand clenching into a tight fist and pressed against his jacket. Your emotions shifted in an instant and you suddenly felt the powerful urge to run away and hide but unfortunately for you, you couldn't. Gabriel leaned down to your ear, only slightly before he spoke up again.
 "Preferably you."
 Your body tensed up immediately and you were sure the archangel was well aware of that though he didn't react to it. Your eyes snapped up to meet his in fiery anger you used to conceal how flustered you really were and the familiar heat had already established itself on your cheeks again. You were able to feel his body pressed against yours before too but now after those two words you seemed to be painfully aware of everything. Oh, how you hated the way he had made you flustered with his comments right now. And you hated the fact that you sincerely liked him in that moment too. Your nostrils flared as you huffed, unable to speak up. Or rather you didn't trust your voice not to break right now. "But watching a movie would do it too" he added with a toothy grin and let go of you. Quickly you took a few steps back and tried to regain control over your body. You were so hot you probably could replace the heating system of the bunker. "So" he dragged the word and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Care to join me?"
 After the stunt he had pulled on you, you would have normally taken the first change to run back to your room as quick as possible. You were furious and embarrassed and furiously embarrassed. Still you decided to accompany him into the living room area. Why exactly were you doing this? You weren't able to answer yourself. Maybe because you missed hanging out with Gabriel without having to hear these comments all the time, wondering off they were sincere or not. So you sat down on the couch but as far away from the archangel as possible. You didn't want to fall even further into your pit of shame. Luckily he didn't make a single move to get any closer to you so you were able to enjoy most of the movie. However, after a while you got hungry again and decided to grab some snacks from your secret candy hideout in the kitchen. When you sat down again you thought Gabriel had moved a little closer to your spot. But by the way he lazily laid there you doubted that. Maybe your mind was only playing tricks on you. Though something you did notice, were the glances he threw your way. Eyeing him from the corner of your eyes you realized that he wasn't only looking at you but at the sweets on your lab too. You shoved another gummy bear in your mouth and thought for a moment. Should you offer him some? You mentally groaned. Why were you always so nice? Why couldn't you just ignore him? Battling with yourself you finally gave in, rolling your eyes at yourself and muttering curses under your breath. You were so going to regret this.
 "Hey" you said and turned towards him. His honey eyes immediately focused on you again. You groaned once more before you made your offer: "Do you want some sweets too?" What had you told yourself earlier? Ah, right: You would regret this. And by the tight-lipped smile on his face you now knew you definitely were about to. "You're the only candy I need." You stayed dead quiet, the bag of sweets still hold out for him. Narrowing your eyes at him you scowled. Even though you felt agitated you were far too tired to let it show except through the blush that crept up your neck. Actually pretty convenient or at least better than stammering like an idiot. You pursed your lips, a slight furrow between your brows as you stared pointedly at the archangel who seemed to grow uncomfortable with every second ticking by in which you didn't say anything. His smug grin turned into an unsure facade.
 "But I would take some of the gummy bears too."
 _________________________________ 
  "So how was the hunt?" you asked Dean and Sam when they finally arrived back at the bunker. It was around six or seven pm and you were still seated on the couch with Gabriel spread out on the other side. After your unresponsiveness about his latest comment he hadn't dared to speak up again. You didn't really care. In fact you were even a little proud at yourself for not ending up a totally blushing mess and stammering incoherent sentences but staying silent and stoic instead. Why couldn't you react that way every time he did that to you?
 "Fine" Dean mumbled and directed his attention away from you and to the small fridge to get his hard-earned bottle of beer. You only snickered and directed your eyes to Sam, crossing your arms on the back of the couch and placing your head on them while kneeling on the cushions. "Next time I want to join you two again" you said and made it sound slightly demanding. Sam chuckled and glanced at Gabriel who hadn't turned around, his eyes fixated on the TV screen. The taller Winchester nodded: "Alright." However, you shook your head at him and reached out your hand for him to grab. "Promise me." Sam eyed you confused with a small smile on his lips. His gaze darted back to the archangel and he let out a slight snicker when Dean joined them, handing his brother a bottle of beer. "So bad?" Sam asked while still looking at the archangel for a few seconds more before directing his gaze back to you. You huffed and pushed one strand of hair out of your face before reaching out your hand again which the younger brother finally accepted. "You have no idea."
 _________________________________ 
  Almost two weeks later and you still haven't found another hunt which meant that either the world was uncharacteristically peaceful or the monsters got better at disguising themselves. Anyway, that also meant that you had been trapped inside the bunker with Gabriel for two more weeks. And it slowly but surely got to a point where you weren't sure if you could go on like this. Neither did Gabriel's comments stop nor your feelings for him. Damn that honey-eyed archangel luring you into his trap every time. But at least he had been away for a few days now, giving you some peace at last. He said he had to sort something out and left immediately afterwards. You had to admit that you kind of missed him but at least he wasn't bugging you right now. Or not in person anyway because him leaving didn't make your thoughts stop circling around him. You needed a distraction. Your fingertips and mind ached for a new hunt.
 With a sigh you let yourself fall onto the couch in the library and closed your eyes. The bunker hadn't been this peaceful in a long time. It should have been pleasant so why did it irritate you instead? Did you really miss Gabriel's dirty comments? Did you really miss the feeling of embarrassment all day long? With a huff you draped your arms over your face. No, you missed seeing Gabriel's eyes sparkle with these refreshing specks of green. You missed having a normal conversation with him about a random topic one of you picked. You missed hanging out with him before he decided to flirt with you all the time. You missed him. You shook your head. Damn, you really were hopeless.
 "(Y/N)?" echoed Sam's voice through the bunker and to your ears, interrupting your thoughts. Groaning you opened your eyes and removed your arms from your face. "Yeah?" you yelled back and waited because you could already hear his and Dean's footsteps coming closer. You only sat up to face them when you could hear them enter the library. "Please tell me you found a hunt" you begged and leaned forward against the back of the couch. The two brothers shook their heads in unison. "No, we need your help" Sam started but got interrupted by Dean. "Or rather we need Gabriel's help" the older brother said. You raised one eyebrow in question. Why would they need Gabriel's help? You mustered their faces and noticed discomfort flashing over them for a split second. What were they plotting now? "For what?" you asked and tried to sound casual. You put your head in your hands to keep it upright and to not miss any signs that would tell you what they had planned. "That's not so important" Dean started which only made you even more suspicious. Why didn't they just tell you? Were they thinking about pranking Gabriel back? Or ask him about something for a hunt? But they told you they didn't have one. So what exactly were they up to? "The problem is that that son of a bitch won't answer our prayers" Dean finished and cursed angrily. You rolled your eyes. Typical for the archangel. It kind of became a prank in itself to ignore the Winchesters. "So we need you to try it" Sam added and looked at you with an apologetic smile on his lips. You groaned and leaned your head back. That couldn't be real right now, could it? Hadn't you just thought that you missed him? Well, yeah. But if you called him through a prayer he would tease you about it one-hundred percent. Because it is what he always did. "Do I have to?" you asked with a pleading look in your eyes and pouty lips. 'Oh please, just for once be on my side!' you thought not really directed to anyone specific. "Yeah, sorry. But he usually answers yours no matter what" Sam excused and rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. When he really felt so apologetic about you calling for Gabriel they probably had something serious to discuss with him. You really didn't want to do it, Gabriel would never let you live it down but apparently you had no choice. You groaned again. "Fine" you stretched the word before closing your eyes. They definitely owed you for that and whatever was about to happen.
 "Hey, Gabriel. I need you so could you please send your feathery ass over here? Thanks."
 You purposely didn't say that it wasn't you but the Winchesters who needed him because you had realized fairly quickly that he wouldn't come if you made it clear you were praying to him on behalf of Dean and Sam when he was ignoring them. Would he catch onto that then he wouldn't even answer your prayers. You breathed in deeply to prepare yourself for what was going to happen and then slowly opened your eyes again to meet the golden ones of a curtain archangel. Gabriel stood only a few inches in front of you with his typical grin on his lips. "Couldn’t live without me, sweetcheeks?" he asked and tilted his head to one side. Rolling your eyes you pointed behind him to Sam and Dean. "They need you, feather brain" you explained. You could see his demeanor change the moment he laid eyes on the two Winchesters. His carefree attitude vanished and was replaced by an annoyed glare he directed at the two brothers. You wondered how often they had tried to call him before coming to you to make him so displeased. "I know" he snarled which took you by surprise. Out of instinct you put your hand on his shoulder which made him turn to you again. The mischievous glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips returned in an instant. "So you had been purposefully ignoring them?" you asked with your eyebrows narrowed. "Yep" he answered unmindful and shrugged his shoulders. His hand sneaked towards your face and before you knew it he had already cupped your cheek. Your body froze instantly and your mind exploded into uncontrollable chaos. What. Was. He. Doing? Your eyes widened and your breath got caught in your throat. Stifling the cough you turned away so his hand would leave your skin. Breathing in deeply you tried to control yourself again but when you heard Gabriel's chuckle you spun back around. Rolling your eyes at him you pushed him into the direction of Sam and Dean. "Be decent" you tried to say warningly but it came out more as a whisper. He groaned and rolled his head back dramatically but didn't say anything else, just walked to the Winchesters who gave you a thankful look. You glared at them, making sure they knew that they owed you one now. Then they turned around to leave the library with the archangel in tow. However, you still had one question to ask.
 "I have one question before you three leave" you said which made them stop and turn around to face you again. Straightened up a little and collecting yourself, you directed your gaze at Gabriel who instantly challenged your eyes. You huffed and tried to withstand his golden ones. You couldn't back down now. "Why do you only answer my prayers?" you asked genuinely confused and narrowed your eyes in question. Gabriel smirked at you and shoved his hands in his pockets while slightly leaning back. He let his gaze wander over your face while casually standing next to the Winchesters who threw warning glances at him. But he decided to ignore them. "Because, sugar" he started as his grin grew even more. You gulped, already knowing that this wouldn't end well for you.
 "You're prayers are the only ones I want to hear, though not necessarily with an audience" he finished with his head held proud and high.
 You choked on your spit and your face grew hot not a second later. Did he really just say that in front of Sam and Dean? You couldn't believe it. You turned your head away, not able to hold his piercing eyes. Your body immediately sunk into itself and you just wanted to hide in the darkest corner of the earth where no one would be able to find you. You just wanted to disappear right now because you felt utterly humiliated which was only worsened by your body's reactions. Your mouth was dry and your nails dug themselves into the flesh of your legs as your eyes darted back to Gabriel's. "What the, what the hell is your-" you stammered, not even sure what you were trying to say and achieve. Luckily the Winchester collected themselves fairly quickly and dragged Gabriel out of the room before you could embarrassed yourself in front of him even more or get even more embarrassed by him. You couldn't believe that you really had thought you missed the archangel. Unfortunately, you still did. You huffed and let yourself fall back onto the couch though you couldn't suppress the small smile from forming on your lips. You were a mess. Why did you like him again? But regardless of how often you would continue to ask yourself this it wouldn't change the fact that you had the biggest crush on him. And maybe, only maybe did you start to enjoy his attention even though you didn't like the type of attention and the way it made you flustered.
 You grumbled and pressed the palms of your hands against your closed eyes. You had to do something about it. Sam's lecture sprung back into your memories. Maybe you should tell him? But would he take it seriously? You turned to lie on your side and furrowed your eyebrows on wonder. Where you considering believing his flirting was sincere? Was it? Or did he do it because he liked to torture you and see your embarrassing reactions? You groaned, your thoughts torn. You couldn't tell him about your feelings as long as you weren't sure if he was sincere with his flirting or not. It was just oh so wonderful that you were incapable of noticing the difference.
 _________________________________ 
  After you had summoned him through your prayers and the Winchesters had a talk with him, even though you had no idea about what, Gabriel seemed to stick around again. At least he had stayed in the bunker for a few days now. However, you had ignored and avoided him as far as possible ever since. You had decided that when you couldn't tell if he was sincere with his flirty comments you had only one other option to stop all this: your feelings had to go away. And maybe it was childish thinking but if you didn't talk to him maybe they would magically disappear? You could wish right? The only problem was that avoiding an archangel wasn't that easy. And since the only angel-prove room was yours you had stayed in there for most of the week so far.
 At the moment you laid on your bed and stared up at the ceiling in a half asleep state when your stomach started to rumble. With a groan you straightened up, debating whether you should risk going to the kitchen to eat something or not. But obviously you couldn't just stay in your room forever which was why you tiptoed to your door and listened for anything unusual before opening it. On your way to the kitchen you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet the bunker was and you began to wonder where everyone was. So you took a detour to the library first. But surprisingly the room was empty. Narrowing your eyes in suspicion and confusion you turned around to continue your search in the other rooms only to yelp in surprise as you run into someone. Taking a step bad you cursed mentally. Of course it had to be him. "Who're you looking for, sweetcheeks?" Gabriel asked with his signature smirk on his lips. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed before his chest and his golden eyes looking down at you. You felt your cheeks heat up again but didn't let your body have the time to shut down in an embarrassing panic again. "Where are Dean and Sam?" you asked him. "You weren't looking for me? That hurts" he said and put his hand over his heart with a pained look you knew was only for show. Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms before your chest and glared at him with one raised eyebrow. The archangel only chuckled. "They went out on a hunt." Your eyes widened. "They what!?"
 Not wasting one second you pushed past him and ran to your room to get your phone. This had to be one of Gabriel's many pranks, right? After their last hunt they went on without you and after you had called Gabriel for them the owed you! They had sworn to take you with them again. They couldn't just have left you behind, right? Why would they leave you behind with Gabriel? They knew the reason for your little self-quarantine! Biting your lips you suppressed an angry yell of frustration. Did that mean you were trapped in the bunker with Gabriel again? You couldn't believe that. This had to be another prank. In your rush you didn't even notice the archangel following you only after you had grabbed the phone from your nightstand and turned around. He stood before your opened door, unable to come any closer which seemed to annoy him greatly by the look on his face. You couldn't suppress the grin from forming on your lips. Making your room angel-prove had to be one of your best decisions so far. Then you turned your attention back to the phone in your hands and dialed Dean's number.
 "(Y/N)? What's the matter?" he asked after a few seconds of the phone ringing. You huffed, instantly angry again. "What's the matter?" you bluffed and felt your eyes twitch. "You left for a hunt. Without me!" Dean winced at your outburst but you weren't done yet. The owed you, they had promised to take you with them again. You felt betrayed but also panicked. You had to stay alone in the bunker with Gabriel and his comments again? "You two had sworn to take me with you!" you yelled while pacing around in your room, very aware of Gabriel's eyes following you. "Well" Dean started but paused for a moment. "Things sometimes go differently than planned?" he tried to soothe your nerves. Unfortunate for him it didn't change anything. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You could have just told me that you had found another hunt and not just leave without a word" you continued. So they really had left you behind on purpose and it wasn't one of Gabriel's many pranks. You gritted your teeth. Now you really felt betrayed. "You two will turn around and take me with you" you demand, well aware that they probably wouldn't do so. "Sorry, (Y/N) but we are already a few hours away from the bunker. Next time we will take you with us again" Dean promised and even though he sounded sincere you couldn't bring yourself to believe him. "Yeah, right" you wanted to say more but got interrupted by another voice.
 "(Y/N)?" chimed Sam's voice out of the receiver now. He had probably snatched the phone from Dean's hand after hearing your angry outburst. "Sam" you growled warningly. Especially he knew why you wanted to leave the bunker so desperately and still he had decided to go without you. "Let me explain" the younger brother started. "Yes, Sam. Please enlighten me" you demanded and sat down on your bed, glancing at Gabriel from the corner of your eye. He hadn't moved an inch, mustering you. You couldn't read the expression on his face. "Talk to him" Sam said. Confused you furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the floor in front of you again. "What do you mean?" you asked slowly. Something was up. "You heard me" Sam only talked back. "This has to stop. Tell him." "I'm not the one who started this!" you spat. The reality slowly sat in. You were alone with Gabriel again. You couldn't escape those feelings no matter what you tried to do against it. "I don't care. This dancing around has to stop" Sam only said. "Are you serious? Sam, I swear-" you started but then only heard the peeping sounds of a disconnect call. Did he really just hang up on you? You looked down at the phone in your hands with wide eyes. You couldn't believe this. Perplexed you shook your head.
 "What did they say?" Gabriel asked and interrupted your thoughts in the process. Turning around to look at him you raised one eyebrow. "You couldn't tell?" you asked back sarcastically with the hint of a smile on your lips. "They left without me." You gulped, thinking about Sam's ultimatum. Gabriel only shrugged his shoulders which made you huff in annoyance. "You'd really rather be on a hunt right now?" he questioned. You huffed out a yes, still angry at the two brothers and then put the phone back on the nightstand with a little more force than needed. They better hoped that when they returned to the bunker that your mood had improved by then. "Oh, someone’s panties are in a twist. Want a hand untangling them?" the archangel smirked. You spun around to face him with an angry glare. The only problem was that your body once again betrayed you. Your cheeks and ears were getting hot and you crossed your arms to dig your nails in their flesh again. Your eyes grew wide again, not believing what you just heard. The archangel in front of you seemed very pleased by your reaction which led to you avoiding his gaze. Damn it, you were just too easily caught off guard and flustered. Since you couldn't come up with anything to say to that you grabbed the door and threw it shut. Gabriel's laugh was very audible through the wood as you walked back to your bed and sat down, hiding your face in your hands. You couldn't do this anymore. Your feelings wouldn't just magically disappear, what were you thinking? He needed to stop with the comments or...
 "I have to talk to him" you whispered. Groaning in defeat you let yourself fall backwards on the bed.
 _________________________________ 
  You decided that the only plausible solution was to talk to Gabriel, just like Sam had told you. Though that didn't have to be right now, right? So you waited. You had grabbed something to eat from the kitchen later that day and had sprinted back to your room immediately. Luckily you hadn't run into the archangel again. After that you had spent the rest of the day and the next one in your room, alone. When the third day arrived you couldn't avoid the topic no more. This had to end. You were just being difficult and stupid right now. You couldn't spend the rest of your life in this room, hoping to never run into the archangel again. You had to start talking. Pacing around in your room you told that yourself over and over again. But every time you had hyped yourself up enough to walk to the door you hesitated with grabbing the handle. You backed away every time. "This is ridiculous" you grumbled. You were behaving like a nervous teenager. You could hunt and kill monsters so you should be able to talk to people as well. But Gabriel wasn't an ordinary person. Groaning you hid your face in your hands and sat down at the edge of your bed. This had to stop. You knew you couldn't avoid it. But why was this so difficult? Why were you so difficult? There were only silly comments. He only wanted to toy with you a little, he had been the trickster after all. So why was this affecting you so much? Because you liked him. Grumbling at your own thoughts you had to agree with them.
 "This has to stop today" you mumbled to yourself and stood up again. "I know what to say, now I only have to walk up to him and-" your monolog got interrupted by a knock at your door. For a split second you caught yourself considering hiding somewhere. You knew who was standing in front of the door, unable to open it himself. But then you cleared your throat and walked to the door, your hand on the handle. "You can do this" you thought and opened the wooden door. Looking up you wanted to open your mouth to say the things you had practiced in your mind all day only to freeze on the spot. The moment you locked eyes with him all your thoughts seemed to take the emergency exit, leaving you empty without a clue what to do. Gabriel was standing in front of you, not leaning against the wall like usual. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jacket, a frown on his face that was normally decorated by a grin. What was the matter?
 "Gabriel?" you heard yourself ask before you registered that you had opened your mouth to speak. Biting your tongue you waited for an answer. Was he toying with you again? The archangel turned his gaze away from you for a second, looking at the floor before bringing his eyes back up. The gold in them seemed dull and you were unable to find any specks of green. It seemed like the green leaves had fallen from the branches. "Can we talk?" he asked. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. The last time he had seemed down he just wanted to catch you off guard with one of his comments. And now you were unsure if you could trust the look on his face. But wasn't talking exactly what you had wanted to do? With a sigh you nodded but stayed on the safe side of the door. Just out of precaution. "Ehm, oka-" you wanted to agree but he interrupted you. "Well they say that kissing is a language of love, so want to start a conversation with me?" Your face grew hot the second he had finished the sentence. He had tricked you again. Your gaze fell to the ground as you just wanted to disappear right now. Grabbing the door to stable yourself you tried to think of something, anything to do or say. But if your head had been completely empty before, then it was crowed now. Your thoughts were running wild while you tried to process if he had really said what you thought you heard. Clenching your free hand into a fist you looked up again, meeting his golden eyes that still seemed rather dull even with the smirk on his lips. "Can't you just stop?" you had wanted to yell, sound annoyed and throw the door in his face but instead you stayed frozen in place and only a drained whisper left your lips. His grin didn't falter though you thought that you saw something shift in his eyes. Was that concern?
 "I'm not in the mood for your remarks" you continued. Why were you still standing there? You wanted to close the door so badly so why couldn't you move? "I could get you in the mood" Gabriel talked back, not missing a beat while your face turned even redder, you could feel it. You gasped and stared at him with your mouth wide open. Did he really just say that? Your embarrassment got mixed with rage as you squinted, furrowing your brows.
 "What's the matter with you?" you asked after you had finally found your voice again. Out of instinct you took one step forward, out of the safety of your room, with one finger accusingly pointed at him though he didn't back away. "Why are you doing this?" Your other hand let go of the door as you took another step forward. "Doing what, sugar? You have to be more specific" he said with a grin, challenging your eyes with a piercing glance. But you wouldn't back down, not today. "Why are you always dropping suggestive comments around me?" you asked more clearly. The archangel opened his mouth to answer: "They're only suggestive if you think they are." Your face fell, eyebrows raised in shock and with the heat returning to your cheeks you took one step back. You stammered something incoherent while positioning yourself in a defensive stance. No. Shaking your head you tried to compose yourself again. Not today. "That's exactly what I mean. Just stop it!" you growled. "And if I don't want to?" Gabriel challenged you further. You felt the unsureness creeping up your back. Maybe you should stop now before you embarrass yourself more. Your mind yelled at you to run, to flee but you couldn't. Your feet were glued to the floor just like during the prank that had driven you to make your room angel-prove. "Then at least tell me why you are doing this" you demanded with your voice slightly breaking. This hasn't evolved how you had wanted it to.
 Gabriel took one step forward and you wanted to counter with one backwards but before you could force your feet of the floor he had cupped one of your cheeks while grabbing your hand that was still pointed at him in an accusing manner. You were trapped and unable to move. Not that you could anyway. The archangel grinned down at you but the grin didn't reflect in his eyes. They were still dull and up close they even seemed tired to you. He pushed one stand of hair behind your ear in such a soft and caring manner that it left you breathless. What was happening? With your mouth slightly agape you tried to find words even though you weren't really sure what you wanted to say. "Maybe because I like to tease you" the archangel started. He slowly moved your hand closer to him until it was pressed against his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingers. Your eyes darted to your interlocked hands and then back to his golden eyes. "Maybe because I like to see you get flustered so easily" he continued and caressed the side of your face. A tingling feeling began to fight its way through your stomach and up to your chest, to your violently beating heart. What was happening? Why were you letting this happen? "Maybe because I like the way you blush. Maybe-"
 "Stop it" you said, pulled away from him and stepped back into your room. Your gaze was directed to the floor, you were unable to meet his eyes. You felt your heart beat against your rips, you felt your short breaths stutter over your lips. Your eyes were wide and pleading. They were pleading him to stop as you looked up again. "Just stop with your comments I can't continue like this" you couldn’t stop the words from flowing over your lips now. Looking up again you saw that expression in his eyes again, a expression you couldn't read. Maybe it really was concern. "I can't continue wondering if all this is a game to you or if you are sincere..."
  "You can't tell if I'm sincere?" he interrupted you. Was that hurt in his voice? You must have imagined that. You shook your head and choked out a "No". "So Dean and Sam had been right" he muttered more directed to himself than to you. Right? Right about what? You squinted in confusion. Gabriel on the other hand wanted to take one step forward but was stopped by the invisible barrier of the sigils. Cursing under his breath he took one step back and instead reached out a hand to you. Even more confused your eyes wandered between his golden ones and the outstretched hand. He didn't say anything, didn't request you to take his hand with words because what he didn't say out loud, what his eyes said in silence was enough for you to understand what he meant. With the slightest hint of hesitation you grabbed his hand and let him pull you out of the room again. Why were you doing this?
 The archangel looked down at you with questioning eyes, his free hand hesitating to move. You almost unnoticeably nodded. He cupped your cheek again, like before but it felt different though you couldn't put your finger on it. Almost intuitively you placed your free hand on top of his, tilting your head slightly to the side. Your thoughts were running wild again but it didn't feel as chaotic as before. A strange sense of calmness draped over you, let your loud thoughts disappear into the background. Was this a dream? Gabriel led your interlocked hand back to his chest, placed yours over his heart again that seemed to spike by your touch. Were you imagining things? Your own heart skipped a beat when he stepped closer, decreasing the distance between you two. Normally you would have stepped back, tried to escape but surprisingly you wanted to do the opposite. You wanted to get closer. The desire you had locked away for so long pulled you to him. He stroke over the skin of your cheek, let his hand wander through your hair and to the back of your head. This wasn't a game anymore. Has it ever been one? You let out a shaky breath as you found the confidence to get even closer, to press yourself against him as you watched his golden eyes. The dullness you had noticed before was long gone and the greens of the leaves have returned to their full, former glory. You only then realized how close you have gotten to him. So close that you could see the greens in his eyes clearly for the first time and feel the ghost of his breath on your lips. Your heart decided to skip a beat, the smell of him hypnotized you. You always thought that he would smell like candy. His lips parted only slightly, a small grin still present on them. However, it wasn't a teasing one, the grin was sweet, almost shy. The slight push of his hand behind your head was left unnoticed as you gave into your desire, closed your eyes and the space between your lips. You never felt so helpless and full of courage at the same time. So simultaneously out of control and powerful. But these feelings quickly washed away into nothingness. Only the kiss, only Gabriel mattered. Your hand that was pressed against his heart clung to the fabric of his shirt, keeping him close while the other one slowly found its place in his soft hair. It's nothing like you every experienced and nothing like how you imagined it. It was so much better, sweeter, more passionate. The taste of sweets on his lips lulled you in even more, driving you forward to deepen the kiss. The hand behind your head stroke through your hair, leaving behind a tingling sensation that made you gasp. His other hand slowly moved to your waist, caressing your side and pulling you even closer. You never felt so complete, so at peace. The kiss felt like cotton candy clouds, like him wrapping his wings protectively around you even though you had never seen them. You felt safe and protected and like every part of your body dissolved into his. You had wanted this for far too long.
 You parted, pulled away only slightly. Out of breath and with your face flushed, you opened your eyes in an instant. You haven't moved away from him, your knees far too weak to even hold you up on your own so you hold onto him instead. Short, choppy breaths left your lips, your chest heaving heavily. You let the hand behind his head fall down and he caught it immediately in his, interlocking your fingers while the other one was still placed on your waist. You didn't know what to think. You felt overwhelmed and at peace, confused and complete all at once. And without you wanting to you suddenly felt your eyes filling themselves with water and before you could stop it or do anything to prevent it the first tears were already trickling down your cheeks. Pressing your eyes closed you turned your head away and let out the sobs that had waited behind your lips all this time. "You were sincere."
 You freed yourself from his hands and instead clung to him, face pressed against his chest as the battle of your confusion and relief raged. You didn't care that your cheeks were hot and red in embarrassment or how you cried into the fabric of his shirt. He had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you felt the muscles of your chin tremble and the tears shaking your body. And then it was over, and you hiccupped against his shirt as you tried to catch your breath. Pushing away slightly you glanced up at his eyes that shined done at you like the summer sun with a small grin on his lips which you returned. "I hate you." Gabriel's eyes widened in shock as you looked at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Now hol- now hold on one second" he laughed out loud. "Not what you expected?" you asked with your smirk growing to the ends of your cheeks. The archangel shook his head, still chuckling slightly. "Now you know how I felt, you feathered dick!" He glanced down at you again, challenged the roguish glint in your eyes. "I guess I deserved that" he admitted and leaned back down to you. You only nodded, still smiling. Gabriel's lips ghosted over yours again, making your breath hitch and your body freeze in anticipation. But he smirked and moved to your ear instead. Your heart skipped a beat as you waited, wondering what he was up to. And then with a husky whisper he asked: "Want to move on to pound town now?"
 You pushed away from him and shot him an angry glare while he only looked down at you with a chuckle. "Moment ruined."
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imaginesfora3 · 4 years
Text
It’s About the DRAMA [Sumeragi Tenma] [Pt. 2]
(Second NSFW part to the Tenma commission I did! Please enjoy~)
Even after two entire years Tenma found his heart still beat for you.
When he was around you he could hardly think straight but he was so addicted to the feelings you gave him, the true happiness he felt at seeing you smile or hearing you laugh, he couldn’t pull away. He’s plagued at night by thoughts of you, of thoughts of what could be if he could strike up the courage to ask you on a real date and not just to ‘hang out’. He always went in with the intentions of revealing his feelings, like when he’d invited you out to karaoke that one night and sang a love song that felt reminiscent of this particular situation with you, but everyone and their mother seemed to get in the way. The meaning of the song completely flew over your head and you’d complimented his singing voice, teasing about the next production being a musical starring him.
A few days after the karaoke catastrophe he’d been trying to think of a good way to confess his feelings but could think of nothing that didn’t make him feel pathetic, knowing feeling like this was natural but still hating how soft it made him look. Did women even like men who got this emotional and romantic when it came to him? His naturally abrasive self had been far too used to people fawning over him no matter how he acted but if it was his fame they fell for and not him or his actions, then it wasn’t real love, was it? Just infatuation. It’s the reason why he’d kept his distance in the dating world for so long despite all the interest in him as young handsome actor.
Or at least one of the reasons.
While he was stuck in his thoughts about his sad dating life Banri had entered the kitchen, starting a welcome conversation about clothing styles that served as a distraction for about two minutes. Said distraction quickly fizzled out when you entered the room looking more stunning than Tenma thinks he’d ever seen you, the dress you’re wearing hugging every curve of your body and leaving only the best bits to his imagination. Banri was quietly appreciating you too but was far less obvious about it than Tenma, glancing over at his friend and smirking as Tenma’s eyes drifted down to your ass the moment you’d turned around.
“Keep it together, man.” Banri elbowed him which caused Tenma’s head to snap back up, just in time for you to turn around and face them. “Where are you going lookin’ like that?”
“Out with friends. That okay, dad?” You stuck your tongue out at Banri who fired off some comment about how it was hard to believe you had a life outside the company but Tenma wasn’t listening, not really. Now his thoughts were just plagued with the thoughts of wining and dining you, but the actions that took place after said wining and dining had finished for the night. It’s taking all the will power he had to keep his jaw from hitting the ground when you swung around once more, grabbing a jacket before waving to the two men in the kitchen and being on your way. He wanted desperately to call out your name, to bring you back so he could soak in your beauty for just another second, but you were gone before he’d found his voice again.
“The hell was that about?” Banri was looking at him incredulously, “You stared so hard your eyes could’ve fallen out of your head. You got it that bad for her?”
“…Huh?” Tenma wasn’t listening again, now he was desperately fighting a losing battle against his dick. “Yeah, whatever.”
Banri doesn’t say anything else but it’s clear he’d picked up on all the signals Tenma had been sending your way, not really knowing how to help his friend out if he couldn’t even admit the feelings were there. He simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving Tenma standing at the counter for a few more minutes, not even realizing he’s alone. When Tenma finally noticed Banri was gone he didn’t feel so self-conscious about the bulge in his pants, making a mad dash for his room and hoping he didn’t run into any other troupe member on the way there. It was the weekend so most were either holed up in their room getting much needed rest or out and about having fun until it was time to be back to business.
Tenma had never been more grateful that Yuki was a shopaholic as he clambered into his bed, leaving the room empty so that Tenma could handle his business. He hardly found the energy to masturbate but when he did he knew how to be quick about it, something very necessary for living in this dorm with a roommate who was almost always there.
Tenma glanced nervously at the door, worried about someone busting it down though there’d be no reason to do so; he could’ve locked it if he really wanted to but he didn’t feel like answering Yuki’s questions should the younger boy come home and not be able to get into his own room. Tenma’s hands slid down his pants and he rubbed his dick through his underwear, unzipping his jeans to give himself more room to work with and turning away from the door, just in case the whole ‘busting in’ scenario happened. It’s not comfortable enough so he decided on laying on his back, pants fully pulled down as his hand strokes up and down his length. He’s thinking about you, your ass, your mouth, your voice, everything that had to do with you was so incredibly attractive that he knew he’d come sooner rather than later as long as he kept up the pace. Your name slipped from his mouth, an accident, one that he didn’t think would cost him as dearly as it did.
“Tenma…?” The door creaked open but he didn’t process it quick enough, continuing to pump his length, finger stroking over the sensitive head when he realized your voice was no longer just in his head. His head whipped towards the door and he meets your eyes, his heart dropping down to the underworld as he realized you were staring at- “Fuck! I’m sorry!”
You hadn’t realized Yuki wasn’t in. Part of your jacket was ripped and you had simply wanted to come see if he could fix it up for you, having a replacement if need be, but instead you’d walked in on… An oddly attractive and incredibly embarrassing scene. You felt guilt seep into your bones at the horrified expression on Tenma’s face, watching as he rolled onto his side to fix himself quickly while trying to sputter out excuses that just wouldn’t form into full sentences; you couldn’t really blame him, this was probably in his top ten most mortifying moments now. You should’ve knocked, you know you should’ve, but now you knew that the carpet matched the drapes and that his dick was rather sizeable and-
You shouldn’t be thinking these things about him.
But hadn’t he been calling out your name?
Had he been thinking those things about you?
It wasn’t as though there were signs that Tenma might feel some type of way towards you. You’d seen him gaping at you in the kitchen and felt rather proud at his reaction, even turning around again to give him a view of all that you had; you hadn’t even realized you were showing off for him until you’d walked outside and the cool night air brought you back to reality. You weren’t in some sleazy romance novel, Tenma deserved romance and flirting and the whole shebang, not just sexual tension. Azuma had been the first one to bluntly point out that Tenma was clearly in love with you, head over heels, no doubt about it, and since Azuma seemed to be the expert in these you had truly wanted to believe him. You didn’t at first but the longer this tension between you and Tenma continued to grow… After this incident, after definitely hearing your name come from his mouth as he was certainly masturbating… Maybe you had to stop ignoring it.
Maybe you just had to deal with the fact Tenma loved you.
But how?
You don’t find an answer for another year.
Tenma’s career was in full swing meaning you rarely saw him around anymore, something that both broke your heart and brought some type of relief. As much as you wanted to confront him on his feelings you still hardly understood your own, nervous about the concept of dating someone younger than you, worried that you hadn’t interpreted the signs correctly. You had no doubt Tenma would be a good boyfriend but would you be good enough for him? It wasn’t to say you weren’t a good, loving person but would you be enough for Tenma? Popular, famous Tenma who practically had women throwing themselves at him left and right, who worked with gorgeous movie stars and was messaged by famous models daily?
He’d been gone about six months at this point but Summer Troupe’s annual play was coming around and he was ready to come home, to see his friends and live in the dorm once again. He’d contacted you and asked for you to pick him up, almost not bothering to send the text as he was still embarrassed by the entire masturbation situation. He didn’t think the moment would weigh so heavily on him but unless he was completely delusional, he was certain you’d stared at his dick until he’d turned around, not even bothering to look away (the same exact thing he’d done to your ass about ten minutes before). Did it mean something or was it just the shock? There was no easy way to get an answer and he hated that the most about this, about all of this romance crap.
The wind is knocked out of you when you see Tenma in the airport, walking towards you and Sakuya (one of the only free members who happily wanted to accompany you to get his fellow troupe leader) with his sunglasses and hat pulled down over his face. He somehow managed to keep growing even over such a short period of time, looking taller, more mature, more put-together… You realized you’re staring at him too long after he’s greeted you without saying anything in return and you forced a smile to your face.
“H-Hey there, hope that time with all the big wigs can help our play shine!”
“You know I always do my best.” His response was awkward but so was your previous statement so you can’t blame him. The walk back to the car is thankfully silent as it’s clear Tenma is quite exhausted and you wondered if he’d just fall asleep on the ride back, leaving even less room for you to make a fool of yourself.
“You really do seem more mature, Tenma,” You offered up another observation as he packed his bags into the back of the car. As much as you didn’t want to make yourself look stupid you had missed him dearly, those weekly phone calls not being enough to satisfy you. You used to talk to him every day, at least getting to see his face even if he was busy, but being overseas and filming left him too busy to keep that same routine. You understood why and you didn’t blame him but now that he was finally in front of you, you couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to talk or tease him like you used to.
“Ah, thanks…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, looking away from you, “You… don’t feel like you’ve changed at all.”
“What does that mean?”
“I-It’s not a bad thing.”
‘It’s like coming home,’ Tenma thought with a smile, ‘I am coming home, I guess…’
“You guys must’ve really missed each other, huh?” Sakuya laughed from the back seat as you and Tenma entered the car. “We all missed you but not as much as she did! Whenever we were having trouble figuring out a scene, she’d always say ‘I wish Tenma was here’ or something like that!”
Sakuya, as innocent as he was, was absolutely killing you right now.
“Do you have any stories about being on set? Ooh, what about the places you visited while you were away?” Sakuya interrupted the growing tension, leaning forward into the front seat and looking at Tenma curiously. He might’ve just put you out there but he’d saved you just as quick, successfully distracting Tenma who seemed more than happy to tell Sakuya of all the things he experienced while he was away. You listened in while you drove, enjoying both the sound of his voice and the content of his stories, pleased even more to hear that none of his time was spent with other women.
The dorm was buzzing with energy when Tenma finally arrived.
“Summon the troops up front Muku, a celebrity has finally arrived!”
Tenma smiled weakly at  your attempt at humor but there was still come clear tension left over, something he was quick to blame on jet lag. Why did seeing you again in person leave him breathless? Why did his heart ache even though you were right there in front of him, arm’s length away? The distance had done nothing to placate his feelings, perhaps making it even worse, and he finds himself selfishly wishing he could just have you all to himself for a night.
He’d missed everyone at Mankai without a doubt but you were a special case.
Tenma is bombarded with questions, he’s given gifts and poems and all sorts of things that the others had made for him while he was gone or to welcome him home. He’d never felt more loved in his life and as he accepted these gifts, cheeks red from embarrassment while he also made sure to thank each person who gave an offering, he noticed your were absent from the general hubbub. While Kazunari is rambling on about something or other Tenma scanned the area, eyes landing on the kitchen once he noticed it was where you were. You were casually talking with Omi, something that wasn’t exactly unusual, but today he was just off. Seeing you with Omi made him feel this bitter jealousy towards him, this irritation welling up until it clearly showed on his face.
“You okay?” Kazunari asked, head tilted in confusion.
“He’s probably tired from the trip,” Azuma offered up helpfully, and despite Tenma generally being on edge whenever the silver-haired man was around him, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to come up with an excuse himself. “Why don’t you head to your room to unpack and relax until dinner? One of us will fetch you when everything’s done I’m sure.”
Was being alone with his thoughts really what he needed right now?
Tenma discovered that it was in fact not what he needed or what he wanted, unable to get the image of Omi’s hand on your arm out of his head; it was as if he was being mocked, as if the universe was telling him ‘you missed your chance, buddy’. He wondered how close the two of you had gotten, wondered if you shared any longing looks or if you’d spent a night together and the relationship took off from there, all the things that he wanted to do with you but never got to because his damn pride always got in his way. The feelings of jealousy started to bubble over until he felt genuinely angry over something he knew he had no right to be upset about, pacing in his room, wanting dinner to just be over with so he could come back and brood some more.
Tenma knew something had to be done about his feelings for you.
Being himself wasn’t working, he kept overthinking his words, stumbling over them, not wanting to look as pathetic as he felt. So what if he pretended to be someone else? When he was in character he didn’t get overwhelmed by feelings, when he was in character he kept it together no matter how beautiful the actress acting opposite to him was, so maybe the solution had been dangling in front of his face this entire time. He doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance to enact this plan but the seed had been planted in his brain and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He had to confess to you even if it killed him, even if you rejected him and never looked at him in the same light again.
He had to let you know how he felt.
Practice began the next day and despite being told he could be a bit late, he insisted on being right on time. He had gotten plenty of rest and he was ready to get back to business, with acting being the one thing that always managed to distract him from his feelings. Being with the others again gave him his energy back and he started off the day ready to conquer, flipping through the script Tsuzuru had just barely managed to get into their hands before passing out on the ground. There were plenty of interesting themes, some redemption, two twin flames reuniting, the dialogue really speaking to Tenma’s spark for both drama and comedy. He’s assigned the lead role even as he protested it should go to someone like Misumi or Kazunari who fit the lead character far more but the group was just as stubborn as he was and with a sigh, he accepted that things were getting right back to business as usual.
Tenma was totally in his element, he was more than competent enough to take on the lead role in a stage play, so then why was he constantly obliterating his lines? He stuttered in the first read through, he forget to respond a few times (he was too busy looking at you as you read over the script, looking extra cute as you concentrated), he was thinking about his own confession monologue he’d started to plot out, he was just entirely distracted. And he couldn’t just push it down like he normally did, it kept rising to the top of his thoughts and it was truly beginning to screw him over. He can see the others are getting agitated but are unwilling to call him out, likely just blaming it on him not being used to being around them again, but it was so much more than that. With a frustrated wave of his hand Tenma dismissed himself from the practice.
“W-Where are you going?”
“I’m going to practice alone. I’ll… be back.” Tenma left the room in a hurry but just as he predicted you followed, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him from storming away so quickly. It made his heart jump in his chest, made him shiver at how warm your hand felt against his arm and he had to use all the self-control he had left not to pin you to the wall so he could crush his lips against yours.
“What’s wrong, Tenma? You can’t close yourself off like this. You know you need to talk it out!”
“I was supposed to come back with more experience to make this play a success and now all I can do it… Well, nothing! It feels like I’m back at square one again,” Tenma couldn’t help but be at least partially honest with his feelings, making sure to leave out the fact you were driving him absolutely crazy by just being this close to him. The kind, concerned look on your face squeezed his heart like a vice and when you squeezed his arm reassuringly he thought he might die then and there.
“I can see you need a reminder of the fact that I’m here for you and so is the rest of your troupe! You’ve grown up so much but you can’t just keep bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders without letting us in on how you’re feeling. If you know what’s wrong and it’s a problem you can solve then let us know! And even if we can’t solve it just tell us what it is! It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“You have no idea,” Tenma sighed, trying to subtly move his arm out of your grip. “…Can we go down to the theatre?”
“You missed it that much?” You tried to joke but Tenma was looking a little too serious for you to not feel nervous, simply nodding his head and beginning to walk without your confirmation. You’re worried about what might come next but you’d rather snuff the problem out sooner rather than later; you dipped your head back into the practice room to let the others know they could continue to read their lines and that you’d be back with Tenma soon, not noticing the looks they all exchanged.
Tenma is standing center stage when you find him, pacing back and forth, looking just as pensive as he had when you’d left him. He doesn’t even notice you’re there leaving you a moment to admire his handsome face, a handsome face you’d grown fond of and had missed dearly while he was gone. Seeing him at the airport had made you just want to wrap your arms around him and tell him he was never allowed to leave you like that again, that living daily life without him had just made things feel ‘off’, but you knew you could never say something so selfish. It wasn’t as though the two of you were even dating so what right did you have to even think those things about him? Ever since you’d walked in on him masturbating you’d seen him in an entirely different life, recognizing him not just as a troupe member but as a man, too.
The change left you uncomfortable, with feelings you didn’t know how to handle.
“No one else has ever encouraged me and believed in me like you have,” Tenma began to speak as you walked closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away from him. “My parents want me to go back to daytime drama full time.”
“You know how I feel about your father so let’s not get into that…” Tenma smiled at the memory, never forgetting what it was like to have you so focused on him and doting over his wounds; it was the first time he ever realized he was in love with you, his strong romantic feelings for you truly coming to a head as you expressed your compassion. He was beginning to realize even more how he felt, that it wasn’t simply admiration but true love that he felt for you. You were someone he would be perfectly comfortable calling his soulmate, someone he could easily spend the rest of his life with and never regret it not matter how tough things got. If he was going to put it all on the table and finally address the elephant in the room, now was the time to do it, now when he was feeling so reassured that he’d be able to get his feelings across to you.
You joined him on stage, looking out at the empty seats before glancing over at him again as he began to talk.
“Can I act this thing out for you that I’ve been thinking about for a while?”
“Sure. Are you gonna be our new scriptwriter, too?” You teased.
“Not a chance. Just… give me a sec.” Tenma took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, his nervous energy infecting you as well.
“Y-You remember I’m not really a great actress, right? You didn’t forget that while you were gone?”
“I didn’t forget anything about you. I didn’t ask you to act so just… listen, alright?”
Another deep breath and you saw a switch flip in him, his face and shoulders growing more relaxed as he looked at you.
“The day that we met we fought like cats and dogs. I never thought the two of us would ever get along, never thought that I could ever see the positives or care about a person who only seemed to kick me when I was down. But I realized it was all about perspective. You weren’t kicking me but you were offering your hand, willing to help me figure out what I really needed to. I’ve dated other girls but none of them have ever held a candle to you. I started to realize they were never good enough because they were never you.”
That’s your name that he’s saying and it’s your hands he’s now holding, looking deep into your eyes with a penetrating gaze that left you feeling weak in the knees. You had suspected something was up at first but there was no way for you to refute it now, Tenma was without a doubt confessing feelings that you never knew he had. You have to applaud the bravery but the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel restless, the close proximity with the orange-haired man not helping you untangle the many thoughts you were having. How did you feel about Tenma? He’d managed to so eloquently sum up your relationship and how deeply he felt for you and yet you were still stumbling around in your own head trying to find the proper way to respond.
There’s one moment over these last few months that really stood out to you, the one night you’d been holed up with a few other Mankai members watching an interview Tenma was involved with. You’d seen that romance was one of the topic of discussions and suddenly found yourself even more interested, waiting with bated breath as the question of Tenma’s relationship status is questioned; he scoffed, blushed, and brushed off the question as being an unimportant one, completely irrelevant to the movie he was about to star in. But the interviewer was rather insistent on getting an answer, pressuring poor Tenma into at least giving him a bread crumb.
“I like someone but her and I aren’t together.”
You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, receiving a knowing look from Banri who didn’t offer up anything snarky at the moment, turning back to watch the rest of the interview while you tried to calm your racing heart. That didn’t mean anything, right? He could like the actress he was on the job with, or any other number of women he interacted with on the daily, it didn’t mean he was talking about you but… Part of you hoped it was about you. You’d seen the way he looked at you before, you’d heard about the things he did just to have an excuse to talk to you but you’d always just amounted it to a schoolboy crush. But the Tenma standing before you now wasn’t just some kid, he was a hardworking adult who had matured over the years and who was confessing that his heart belonged to you.
You’re not an actor, you can’t come up with some dramatic dialogue with perfect metaphors for the love you felt for Tenma, but you were someone who shared his feelings and wanted to let him know that. Tenma went to pull away from you but before his hands can escape your grip you squeezed them, taking a step forward into his personal space, something you had always been careful about not doing before. You looked into his eyes, searching for something, hoping that none of this would turn out to just actually be some fake scene he wanted to act out but with the fondness he’s looking at you with now you knew his feelings had to be true. Or he had to be an even more talented actor than you’d originally thought but you were hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself.
Leaning forward your lips brushed against his and Tenma followed through with your movement, quickly releasing your hands to hold either side of your face. He didn’t want you to pull away until he had his feel, his heart beating so loudly he’s sure you can hear it. This is a moment he’d dreamed of for years and you tasted so much sweeter than he ever expected, your lips ridiculously soft and potentially addicting. He could get lost in the feeling of holding you against him, his lungs beginning to burn from how long it’d been since he’d last took a breath, but he couldn’t find it in him to pull away from you. You seemed to feel the same as you made no move to dismiss him, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your hands grabbing onto his shirt and digging into the soft material to anchor him to you.
When you pulled away you were glad to see the cool guy façade he’d had up during his confession had completely disappeared, a dark blush adorned his face and left him looking even cuter than usual. You’re sure your face matches his in more ways than one but what does it matter now that you had him?
“I want… Please, be my girlfriend?” He’s looking away from you, unable to meet your eyes as though that was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done in front of you. You could bring up the masturbation incident but you figured that’d just ruin the mood.
“I think I can do that.” You leaned in to press a few more kisses to his lips, Tenma deepening them each time you attempted to pull away. Finally you block his lips with your hand, sending him a playful smile. “The others are waiting for us! We need to get back to business or we’ll just spend all day in here…”
“I could live with that.”
“Well I can’t! Now let’s get back and smooth out this performance, lover boy.”
~*~
This was riskier than you’d ever taken it but you missed your boyfriend dearly.
Tenma let out a soft groan as you grinded your lower body against his, dick already fighting with the costume he was wearing in an attempt to reach your warmth which seemed so close yet so far away. You couldn’t help but laugh as he started to strip you of your clothes, shaking your head as that would be too dangerous a thing to do while you were trying to get busy in his make-up trailer. Instead, you lower the top part of the dress (thankfully, it was stretchy as well as flowy) to show off your bare chest and slid your underwear down your leg, stuffing them into his pocket before you started to fumble with the zipper.
Tenma cursed as you released his dick from its prison, straddling his lap once more and using his shoulders to slowly lower yourself onto him. You both gasped at the same time, Tenma’s head falling back and brushing against the side of the trailer as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to come quite yet. He knew it had to move quick as he didn’t know when someone would fetch him for his next scene but he had to savor how wonderful it felt to be inside you, how gorgeous you looked bouncing on his cock, your chest in his face as his hands reached around to grip at your ass. All he can think about is how sexy you are, how lucky he is to see you like this, groaning into your chest before he caught one of your nipples in his mouth. Your moan of approval only fuels him further, with Tenma taking control from under you by thrusting up and changing the rhythm entirely. He’s a bit rougher and more aggressive, hips angling to find that sweet spot inside you, tongue still toying with your hardened nipple when it all comes crashing down around him.
A knock on the trailer door caused you to jump off his lap instantly, his dick aching from the loss of contact even if his brain knew he had to scramble to get it together. He pushed you out of view of the door as he fixed himself, taking a quick glance in the mirror and hastily fixing himself before he opened said door. You did your best to stay out sight, fixing yourself just in case the assistant found their way inside and listening to the conversation your boyfriend was having. He was being rather curt but it was clear he was annoyed at being interrupted, and the only thing you get from him is an apologetic look before he leaves the trailer to go back to set.
You waited a few more minutes until things were truly quiet to get moving, sneaking your way from the trailer and seeing yourself out of the studio without further interruption. You wonder how frightened Tenma was about all of that, trying to think of what might hurt his reputation more; discovering that he was dating his director or them assuming you were just some random girl he’d called into his trailer to have sex with. Neither option seemed to be positive but… You and Tenma hadn’t talked much about the secretive nature of your relationship lately. You’d just recently overcome an issue in the relationship but it seemed like a new one was always willing to pop up when you least expected it. You tried to push this to the back of your mind, knowing Tenma wasn’t ashamed of you and that he did truly love you, but you still had to wonder if he ever thought about what would happen if the two of you really did get caught.
Surprisingly, you’re not the one to bring up the topic.
“I was asked if I had a girlfriend today.” Tenma had been showing clear signs of agitation, playing with the food on his plate instead of eating it. You had been patiently waiting for him to open up knowing if you approached the topic without him being the first one to speak he’d just close himself off and you might never know what was on his mind.
“What did you say?”
“I said… I said that I did.” Tenma looked in your eyes, searching for any sign of emotion; you simply looked surprised but that didn’t tell him if it was a happy surprised or a disappointed one.
He had thought making your relationship a secret was just as beneficial for you as it was him, in fact, he had done this entirely for you. Dating a celebrity was an entirely different world, even if you knew the real him and he wouldn’t suddenly change into a different person having the world prying into your romance might not have made things go as smoothly as they had been. The relationship had bumps in the road but things had always managed to work out, but would that have the same outcome if the tabloids and paparazzi were involved? Would you have been as willing to be patient with him? Would you even find any pleasure in being with him if your relationship was in the public eye? These questions scared him. He knew he should’ve been honest about it from the start but in the end, he continued to run from his feelings and even ignore the fact they existed.
But Tenma had to stop running.
He was tired.
He didn’t want to run anymore.
“We’ve almost been together a year now and I want to… I want to be able to post a picture of us. I want to make an annoying post like all those celebrities who think they have better love lives than the rest of us and I want people to be jealous that I have you all to myself. I know I’m the one who wanted us to be secret but I…” Tenma’s fingers tapped nervously against the table, his plate of food fully pushed away as you quietly listened to him. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I hate hiding things from everyone. I hate not being able to hold your hand in public. When we go places together I don’t want to have to be paranoid anymore. You understand how I feel, don’t you?”
“Of course I understand. Don’t you think I want the same things you do?” You stood up from your place across the table, circling around it to stand behind Tenma who’s shoulders were sagging. You could tell this was something he’d thought about more than he let on and if you were being honest, you were proud of him for managing to speak so honestly about his feelings with you. It was hard for him to articulate exactly how he felt much of the time but he’d managed to get his feelings across to you perfectly. “I don’t want to be a secret anymore either, handsome.”
Tenma leaned back into your arms as you hugged him from behind, your chin resting comfortably on his head.
“I’ll post about it then. On our anniversary.”
“I look forward to seeing what the sappy movie star has to say about me!”
You were not at all disappointed to see the post on Instablam the following week, nor were you surprised at the responses it received from some of your Mankai friends. Kazunari posted ‘KNEW IT’ with approximately a million exclamation points, Muku posted a heart emoji, Itaru posted ‘grats’, and you’re sure there are many others buried among the comments from his fans who were both disappointed and excited to see the star they loved in a happy relationship. He had warned you not to get too lost in the comments so you didn’t linger long, re-reading his post over and over again and smiling at the fact he chose to post the very first selfie you’d ever taken together. He might say he’s not good at being romantic but you knew he was a natural when he learned to just listen to what his heart told him.
There might still be many trials and tribulations for the two of you to overcome the longer you were together but you were happy, happier than you’d ever been, and you knew every bit of trouble was worth it.
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justasparkwritings · 3 years
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Codename Cupid: Chapter 22
Previous: The Final Notice 
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC
Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU
Rating: PG15
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Abortion
Summary: Black Panther, Cricket and OT7 finally meet. 
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Cricket & OT7: Return to Sender
Present Day
           “Why are you following me?” I ask, hands bound together, eyes blindfolded. The car has stopped, and whomever was driving has exited the vehicle in favor of opening my door and yanking me out. It’s silent, apart from my breathing and unavoidably stalky footsteps. I’ve never been able to walk on eggshells, perhaps it was my mother’s direction that stomping on them was far more impactful, that has led me to wear through every heel of every shoe I’ve ever owned. Now, it isn’t my saving grace, rather a rude awakening that I must sound like an ogre to the people who live below me.
           I arrived at the designated location, Jungkook trailing behind me. He refused to let me go alone but did compromise and stay in the damn car. He could see me, and I could see him. I was waiting for no more than a minute before promptly kidnapped. Not even chloroformed, just fucking grabbed and taken. Kidnapped, blindfolded and bound. Bound! Some knot a boy scout or aspiring I’m tossed in the back of a car, which, is how I’ve found myself willfully dragging my heels as they ever so gracefully force me in their desired direction.
           “Black Panther, why are you following us?” The voice asks. I know that voice, I’ve heard it before, I’ve heard that code name. Had it been referring to me this entire time?
           “Us?” I ask again, tossing my voice to see if it reverberates against anything, any sign that furniture or people are nearby.
           The man guiding me stops abruptly and peels off my blindfold. Empty spaces are their own kind of hell, and this is no exception. The panic of darkness arises as I close and open my eyes, ensuring they’re really open and not a trick of the mystery man’s charms. I jump softly as seven lights are dropped, one in each spot in front of me, a delicate row of halos waiting to be adorned. Five men step out of the shadows, the one holding me in place making number six.  Their pressed suits, cut from the finest cloth, each distinct in their pattern and style, garnish their bodies. As if on cue they cross their arms over their chests and glare openly at me.
           “Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung,” I rattle off, each man nodding as I speak their names.
           I know them all, tailed them, surveyed their homes, run into them at the grocery story and Mexican restaurants. All except fucking min Yoongi, but I know them. I know these men. I’ve spent the better part of what, two years, trying to understand them, trying to figure out how they’re related, and here they are. There’s space for another, and it takes me a minute to realize who it is that occupies that is supposed to occupy that spot.
           “There’s only six of you… where’s -
           “Jeon Jungkook,” His voice comes from behind me, goosebumps running up my spine as the heel of his boots hits the concrete. My body is awash in shock, anger, comfort and hope. My Jungkook. My, I have to come home to him, my north star, my sunshine on a cloudy day, my Bunny.
           I was fucking right all along, wasn’t I?
           “Welcome to the party.” Seokjin says.
           “Is this where you tell me that Euna is Hans Gruber and somehow I’m Sergeant Powell?” I question, by tone delicate against their stone expressions.
           “If anything, you’re Harry Ellis,” Yoongi says.
           “That’s so rude,” I retort. “At least let me be Holly Gennaro.”
           “Then who are we, McClane?” Yoongi snorts, the absurdity of my statement causing a brief moment of joy. “Bunny wishes.”
           “You’re interrupting our mission,” Namjoon states, pulling my attention to him. His broad shoulders give way to a tapered waist, round golden spectacles are situated against his face, and his jaw is locked tight.
           “Me? How the fuck – oh,” My eyes move towards the bulletin board against the far wall, in quintessential fashion there are pictures, string, maps and enough thumbtacks to secure the list of vets from the Vietnam Memorial. I can’t read it, but I can see it. “You guys aren’t the bad guys.”
           “No, we’re not,” Namjoon says.
           “The Lee family is,” Taehyung says. It’s odd seeing him this quiet and stoic, after all he’s the hottest librarian in the damn county. He comes alive within the confines of his books and stories, he comes alive. He has voices and characters and gestures to match each. Looking at him now, it’s wild to imagine him doing a full interpretive reading of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, or his most famed retelling, Peter and the Starcatcher, when he’s glowering down at me.
           “They are poison, seeking revenge on anyone who has worked on cases to bring them down,” Hoseok says.
           “So, you all, how did she find you?” My mind is moving too fast for me to form coherent sentences.
           “Cupid didn’t find us,” Jimin tells me, eyes still boring holes into mine.
           “You did,” Namjoon answers.
           “I did?” I ask, eyes wide.
           “Mm, your little stunts, your run ins, your photos. She gave you our real names and you-
           “Gave her our locations,” Taehyung finishes the sentence, eyes still trained on me.
           “You left the notes, and the photo for Euna to find,”
           “Yes, but unlike you, our move was intentional,” Yoongi says.
           “Codename Cupid needed to know there were higher stakes at play,” Hoseok tells me.
           “How was I supposed to know this was some larger conspiracy?” I demand, temper rising.
           “Did you not receive notes?” Hoseok asks, by his expression I can tell that he’s responsible for the code breakers that have arrived at my apartment and office over the last nine months. “Strange packages arriving out of nowhere, sent to your office, on the driver’s seat?” Hoseok pushes.
           “Yeah, but I’ve had some really sketchy clients in the past, though none of them preferred an ABA rhyme scheme,” I retort.
           “Do you know how we found you?” Yoongi snaps.
           “Yes?” I ask, genuinely confused, “Google my name and my office pops up. Anyone can find me.”
           “Your tactics are fucking bush league, Black Panther. They’re embarrassing,” Yoongi tells me.
           “You’re a P.I., not a cop, not an agent, you’re not in the Bureau, yet you’re overstepping into situations that you have no grounds being involved in. You are fucking playing with fire and we were about to be burned if we hadn’t –
           “Seokjin,” Namjoon’s voice is biting, harsh, a belt to the back as it cracks in the hot air.
           “She needs to know,” Taehyung responds for his hyung.
           “Cupid has been lying to you for months, leading you on, paying you over your asking to track us down for what? A few lies you don’t even believe to be true?” Jimin asks.
           “We embezzled funds from their charity organization? We reported her family to the IRS?” Taehyung asks.
           “We stole jewelry from her famed collection to sell on the black market?” Seokjin adds.
           “We’re trafficking high quality cocaine from Colombia into the upper echelon of society?” Jimin rattles off more lies.
           “We fucked her, broke her heart, and god – the worst one – we made her abort our child?” Yoongi spits on the floor, disgust flowing through his saliva like blood in the Nile.
           I stare at them, mouth agape as they recite words I’ve only spoken to one person. My vision becomes blurry as I try to breathe, in through my nose, out through my mouth, but my heart is pounding in my ears and I can’t breathe. The tears always sting before they fall, and my eyes land on him, tall, blonde hair, clear framed glasses, doe eyes.
           “You told them?” I whisper, the end of my sentence curling up into itself as the first tears start to fall.
           “I had to,” A whisper, feet frozen to the ground as he refuses to make eye contact with me.
           “You were using me?” I ask. “Look at me.”
           “I wasn’t using you,” He says, soft eyes meeting mine, the fire scorching the earth.
           “So how do they know?” I spit, the little droplets doing nothing to squelch the flames.
           “I had –
           “You told them information that I shared with you, in confidence, in my fucking bed, in my fucking homeJungkook!” I yell.
           “Cricket, can we talk about –
           “How dare you use my nickname to get me to calm down, I’m not a fucking child,” the sound of my cries reverberates against the warehouse, echoing violently.
           “I can exp-
           “There isn’t time for you to sort out your fuck up, Jeon. We have real problems to discuss,” Yoongi snaps. I can feel the tears dripping from my chin, falling to the concrete beneath my feet. The adrenaline pumping through my body as both a reaction to fear and a telltale sign that I’ve been embarrassed beyond repair. Not just embarrassed, eviscerated, betrayed. An hour ago, hadn’t I been deeply in love, terrified I wouldn’t return home to him?  
           “What do you want from me?” I ask. Jimin hands me a tissue, which I am grateful for as I attempt to gently blot my soaked skin. My mascara, never waterproof, comes off my eyes in dark splotches. How poetic.
           “Come, have a seat, Jungkook, get her a water,” Namjoon instructs. He strides towards the bulletin board and pressing a few buttons, the board sinks in the floor to reveal a hallway. The gasp that echoes through the warehouse is audible, and louder than I intend.
           “Sorry,” I say, feet guiding me past Jungkook, towards the corridor. There are no pictures on the walls, no signs that this space is used by anyone. The industrial style gives way to a door, bulletproof.
           Namjoon pauses, inserting his thumb into a scanner that gives way to a retina display, where he gently places his chin against the base. The machine works quickly before giving him entrance. I watch, amazed. Who knew in the 21stcentury that covert ops and me, a lonely P.I., would intersect?
           “This is, headquarters,” Seokjin says. He takes a seat at the long table in front of us and points to the chair next to Taehyung. I sit quickly, my eyes adjusting to the surprisingly bright space.
           “Oh my god the view,” I say, composure slightly recovered as I take in the expanse of greenery.
           “Yeah, benefit of being in the middle of nowhere,” Yoongi says.
           “Read your file,” Namjoon instructs.
           The file in front of me, manilla of course, is packed. “Why paper copies?”
           “Easier to burn,” Yoongi mutters. He’s taken out his computer and is busy typing away, no doubt pulling up a list of my infractions. Undoubtedly fucking an undercover operative is number one, though falling in love is objectively far worse than sex.
           Jungkook brings me a water and deftly cuts the zip ties around my wrist. His hand moves to sooth the indentation and redness from their grip, but I pull them away before his thumbs graze over the skin. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him retreat to his seat at the end of the table.
           “If you’re the top of the line, 007 should be shaking in his oxfords, can’t you encrypt it?” I ask.
           “Your encryption is only as good as your worst coder. We can’t take that chance,” Namjoon tells me.
           “First, I don’t think that’s the saying. Second, the government, who I’m assuming you work for, Interpol, MI6, etc. all use computer systems,” I counter.
           “Do you remember the election of 2016?” Yoongi retorts.
           “Point taken,” I nod. Of course, Russia. No one was ever safe. “But can’t you blame a lot of that on Zuckerberg and the higher ups at Twitter?”
           “Read your file,” Namjoon instructs again.
           I open it to find a rather aggressive breakdown of my work as a PI, both items that were on the internet and ones that only top-level government agents could have accessed, that is, unless the NSA has been tapping my phones. Details of my family life, my past relationships, my driving record, it was all here.
           “Why isn’t Jungkook on the list of romantic partners?” I ask, eyes looking from Seokjin to Namjoon.
           “Are you in love?” Namjoon asks.
           I don’t wait for a response from Jungkook, or to find the courage to say the simple three lettered word, yes. Instead, I busy myself by clearing my throat and loudly moving the pages about my life to a separate pile. Underneath is all my evidence, print outs of my documents, surveillance photos of me working. I stare at them, horrified.
           “How long have you been tailing me?” I question.
           “How long have you been working with Euna?” Taehyung asks.
           “Sixteen months,” I reply.
           “Ten months.” Taehyung answers.
           “You hacked my computer? Is that legal?” I inquire, knowing full well that it isn’t.
           “I can tell that you don’t understand who you’re dealing with, so let me put it this way. We’re the ones who knock. We’re the ones who cause dignitaries, presidents, whole countries to quake in their boots. It’s us.” Namjoon’s voice is calm within the storm, its resolute and baritone and every word that he utters is meaningful, impactful. He means what he says, and he fucking says what he means. In every interaction I’ve had with him, which frankly have been maybe more than he realizes, he’s been measured in his speech, only speaking when he has something worth saying. He is patient with himself, kind to others, except for today, when he clearly does not want to deal with me.
           “How very Heisenberg of you,” I roll my eyes.
           “You don’t want to be Jane,” Namjoon urges.
           “Okay first of all, in a Breaking Bad scenario, I’m clearly Jesse. Second of all, Krysten Ritter has had a very lovely career. Finally, this cannot be overlooked or underestimated, I’m Veronica Mars, bitch.”
           “Read. Your. File.” Namjoon’s teeth are clenched, his fist resting on the table, his patience going.
           I glance at Yoongi who is sniggering, Seokjin who is making eyes at Jungkook, and Jimin who is busy doodling along the margins of his file. These glimpses, these little hints at the weight of their souls, these are the men I’ve been following for nearly two years.
           It’s in staring at the remnants of my evidence that it hits me. “Jungkook gave you these photos.”
           “Yes,” Seokjin answers.
           “Everything you told me was a lie,” I say, eyes burning holes into the stolen images of my work.
           “Crick- Y/N, that’s not true,”
           “I knew you were connected, that day in the dog park, I knew,” I should’ve trusted my instincts, though they told me to trust him, maybe I should’ve run.
           “I didn’t lie, Cricket, I -
           “Look, I’ll work with you, whoever you are, but I’m not working with Jungkook,” I look at Namjoon.
           “That’s not an option, Black Panther,”
           “How did I get that nickname?”
           “Can you focus for ten minutes? Read your damn file so we can discuss the next course of action before you have to go meet Codename Cupid for your weekly meeting,” Namjoon bites.
           “Fine, do I have to go to that meeting if you’re, doing whatever you’re doing?” I question. “Seems a bit redundant.”
           “If you don’t meet with Cupid, she will know we found her, and our decade of work is completely useless.” Seokjin says, stepping in to mitigate the anger erupting from Namjoon.
           “What am I supposed to say to her? She knows too much already,”
           “She doesn’t know what she knows,” Yoongi answers. “Looking through her emails and texts, it’s clear that her family wants the seven of us dead for espionage, and for attempting to bring them down. All Cupid knows is that you found us, which she assumes is a fatal flaw in our plan, though she has yet to understand the plan at all.”
           “It’s completely intentional,” Hoseok adds. “Cupid only knows that we either worked for her company or dated her or a sibling. She knows our fictitious careers and lives but has no clue about who we truly are.”
           “Her brother, Dae-Seong, Codename Archer, is the one who wants us gone, eviscerated, eradicated. He’s the one driving this whole thing. Archer’s convinced Cupid that vengeance will solve her romantic woes,” Jimin tells me.  
           “But what about Jun-Seo? You left him the night of your engagement party, and Kwan-Min, you went on a few dates… Couldn’t this be about them?”
           “Codenames Bow and Arrow are less of a threat than Cupid and Archer,” Taehyung answers.
           “Cupid has been kept in the dark for the past, fifteen years, in regard to their business. The dark dealings of her company reside solely with her siblings and their parents. We want them,” Namjoon finishes.
           “Why not use Euna, sorry, Cupid, as the patsy?” I ask.
           “Who will run their company?” Yoongi asks.
           “Someone else?”
           “There’s too much evidence, nearly the entire company is dirty,” Jimin tells me.
           “So, you’ve been spying on them from the inside?” I question.
           “Sort of,”
           “It’s Nixon, Watergate extreme?” I ask.
           “What does Cupid know, and when did she know it?” Yoongi answers, his annoyance completely dissipating at my Watergate mention.
           “Why do you think she’ll believe me? She doesn’t have much faith in me as of late,” I question, the lilt of insecurity in my voice. Jungkook glances at me, eyes soft at the familiar tone, he tries to offer a smile, at least, it looks like he’s trying.
           “Yeah, because you fucked Jungkook and she found out. Before that though, she couldn’t sing your praises enough,” Namjoon’s calmed down, his frustration settling like sediment at the bottom of a pot. Adding an eighth person to the group was always going to shift the balance, move the power around and rattle nerves. But me? I’m burning it down. Though I can’t completely be to blame - Jungkook is also at fault.
           “Fine. What do I say to her?”
           “Haven’t we gone over this before? Lie,” Yoongi says.
           “Yoongi, if you’re going to be an ass, can you please direct it at someone else?” I snap.
           “Feisty,” He nods approvingly.
           “Black Panther, you have notes in your file about what we need from you,” Namjoon instructs.
           “You want me to end my relationship with her?” I question.
           “Yes,”
           “What about –
           “Either you end it first, creating an enemy, or she ends it with you which will not be helpful for us,”
           “I just,” I look at them, eyes finally glancing to Jungkook. He looks exhausted, and sad, so sad, his irises choppy waves searching for harbor. “Do I have a choice?”
           “No,” Namjoon answers, but Jungkook’s eyes tell me exactly what I need to know. I don’t have a choice, and somewhere along the line, he stopped having one too.
           “Fine, tell me what to do,” I flip to the page in my file, eyes scanning the words, mind no longer full of Jungkook my boyfriend, but of Jungkook, Operative, member of OT7. This is a job, a job that seemingly could make or destroy my career. I don’t have time or the emotional space to navigate his crashing midnight eyes. All I have now is focus, drive, determination, and hints of stubbornness. This is the same drive that in a weird twist of fate, has led me to this very conference room, with these seven mysterious men.
           I cannot fuck it up.
           I will not get a second chance.
Next: Black Panther Meets Codename Cupid  
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Watching Star Trek TOS For the First Time! Season 1 Reaction
I’ve been a TNG, DS9 and Voyager fan for maybe 10 years but had never watched TOS until I decided that I would. And then I realised I couldn’t live with the possibility of the internet not being able to know my incoherent rambling reactions if it so desired. Most of these were written the day after I saw them but with the early ones it was later so sorry if I don’t remember your favourite.
Season 1:
The Cage: Be still my beating heart why must number 1 leave the show? Why?! Imagine a world in which Majel Barrett got to continue to be her in the Star Trek universe instead of Lwuxana (sorry I don’t love her) and Nurse Chapel. She’s so beautiful I love her. And she gets to where pants and be the second in command. While the episode for sure has sexist moments it does seem like there was more of an actual effort to present to future as having gender equality. When you compare this to the ultra mini skirted version of the actual show, it does feel like executives went through it to make it more marketable. It’s been noted by others that she is quite similar to what Spock’s character became: the cold, logical one, while Spock smiles in this episode. While I ended up loving Spock I still would’ve loved to see a woman in that kind of role, especially in the 60s. Although I’m not sure she would’ve been treated that well.
So Vina can’t like, get medical treatment from Starfleet doctors who know how to put a human body together? No? We’re just gonna leave her there? She’s too ugly? She’s better off living in a fantasy world where she’s pretty? Ok then…
The Man Trap: I don’t even really remember this one so I’d have to rewatch it.
Charlie X: Charlie sees women and becomes an incel, Kirk has to try and teach him not to be. This is a decent goal that somehow culminates in a space boxing match. Kirk loses his shirt. Sexual tension is presumably resolved. Uhura sings.
Where No Man Has Gone Before: The pants are back. Man becomes some kind of god and Kirk beats him up if I remember correctly.
The Naked Time: This is where The Naked Now comes from. This one was less sexual, which is probably a good thing, and less drunk, which is too bad cause I love drunk Crusher and Picard trying to focus on work while their brains won’t brain. Highly relatable mood. This one is where the immortal line “sorry, neither” comes from, spoken by Uhura in response to Sulu calling her a “fair maiden.” According to the internet that was an ad lib and I so hope that’s true cause it’s amazing. Also according to Spock Sulu is a “swashbuckler at heart” which is cool and all but I wish we got to find that out by him actually being a character that we know the personality of rather than a background diversity guy who gets to say a couple of lines sometimes. Also each to their own but shirtless Sulu is infinitely more attractive than shirtless Kirk.
The Enemy Within: Bad. Women at Warp podcast said it best, it’s bad because they say the evil Kirk is still Kirk and is needed for him to be a good captain/person. This could’ve been ok if he didn’t do something so irredeemable, or they could’ve not had him be defined as a true and necessary part of Kirk, but you can’t have both and sell it as an ok message. Rand not being able to look at ‘good’ Kirk after really makes it feel real, her acting in general makes it feel too real.
Mudd’s Women: Women take beauty pills that make them have makeup on and men find them too ugly to marry without them even though they are still beautiful. Also said women were kinda slaves but don’t worry about it! *hand waves*
What Are Little Girls Made Off: I don’t know what the title has to do with the episode. This is the episode where Nurse Chapel is introduced even though she was in a previous episode. And she’s taken more seriously than I thought she would be. Kirk gets an android version of himself made by a guy who he already doesn’t trust and doesn’t predict that maybe that’s not a good idea. Apparently to make an android all you need to do is put one person and one dummy on a giant plate and spin them around real fast. If only the guy who wanted to take apart Data in Measure of a Man knew.
Miri: Problematic. I think the crush angle could’ve worked if it was one sided, but Kirk played into it and it was creepy, and you know, also manipulative, assuming Kirk doesn’t actually feel the same way and is using it to get her to help them. That’s my more charitable interpretation anyway. Also McCoy doesn’t know how vaccines work. Also this episode doesn’t know what puberty is, or rather when it starts. If the virus is supposed to get to you then, that starts round the preteen age. Miri is older than that even though she’s not an adult.
Dagger of the Mind: This was the first one where I was starting to quite like it and it was feeling a little more like Star Trek to me (I know this is the first Star Trek but there’s a certain way 80s/90s era Star Trek feels to me). I really liked the beginning where it was setting up this whole maybe prisoners become violent because of how the prison treats them thing and that it was challenging the viewpoints of some of the main characters, although McCoy was already team prisons are bad and I love him for that. It then went more into the lobotomising asylum type story which was still ok. The guy turned out to be a doctor rather than a prisoner which I didn’t like cause I wanted the prisoners to be humanised. Although you could’ve done a “see anyone, even ‘innocent’ non criminals can be turned violent with this treatment” but they didn’t really emphasise that.
The Corbomite Maneuver: I don’t remember this. Kirk playing poker with some alien I think. Edit: I’m been informed this is the one where the alien turns out to be a lollypop guild kid lip-syncing to an adult’s voice, which I do remember, and probably thought it was some kind of sleep-deprived fever dream.
The Menagerie Part 1 & 2:  I laughed so much when they wheeled Pike out and I finally got the Futurama reference in Where No Fan Has Gone Before. I mean I obviously knew the whole thing was a Star Trek Reference, but I had never seen that specific imagery before and now the joke makes sense! Also Pike wanting to go back there seems kinda wrong. I mean they say he’s a vegetable mentally I think but he doesn’t seem to be? I can kinda get that he’s got more incentive to be there than Vina who could probably be helped by Federation doctors but also, he hated that place and spent the whole episode trying to get out of it and it doesn’t feel like a fitting ending for him.
The Conscious of the King: And here begins Star Trek’s love affair with Shakespeare. The only thing I have to say really is, if I didn’t mishear something… a father and daughter played Macbeth and Lady Macbeth? A married couple. And no-one thought that was weird? She was the daughter of a dictator though so there was an Ivanka Trump vibe.
Balance of Terror: Romulans. Spock wasn’t sure that they were related to Vulcans till this ep, though he suspected it. How far back did they split for it to be unknown? I like that the Romulans were sympathetic and we had scenes with them just in their ship from their perspective, and they had some conflicting views with each other. And I really like how Spock was suspected as a spy cause racism and of course he wasn’t and saved that guy cause he’s the better person. That said I found this episode pretty boring and I don’t know why. I kinda wish it turned into a witchhunt situation and was more about the racism on the Enterprise, kinda like The Drumhead from TNG.
Shore leave: Wtf was this episode?! And I don’t ask that because the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland showed up, or that it was a random holodeck planet episode, that’s fine. When the White Rabbit appeared I was just like, ok it’s going to be one of those episodes, that’s fine. Holodeck episodes are fun, I don’t even mind a random magic alien or two appearing for no reason to wreak havoc, say by making everyone larp as Robin Hood, that’s all Star Trek, that’s Star Trek doing a Star Trek, what I didn’t like is this episode goes nowhere! McCoy sees the White Rabbit, we’re off to a good start, Sulu “Swashbuckler at Heart” sees an old gun that he geeks out on, cool. Kirk sees some woman of course. Also there’s some guy fending off a tiger. Random female guest star of the week rather than letting Uhura be part of the story gets her uniform torn by some guy. Then she imagines a princess dress and if that were me as soon as I realised I could think things into existence I would just imagine all my dream clothes. Kirk imagines an old student friend who is attempting very hard to be Irish (thank you Colm Meany for saving us from this).
Anyway so the planets a holodeck cool. And I’m like, Spock should beam down, I wanna know what he’ll see, this is where the episode could get interesting. And then it happens, but nothing happens, they don’t even make much of a deal of him not seeing anything. But then I thought what if! What if Spock didn’t beam down and this was another imagination?! What if he was some alien with some ulterior motive OR better than that we get to see Spock as imagined by whoever was thinking of him. You could go down a very fanfic road if it were Kirk’s imagined or desired view of him, or maybe you could show different people’s perceptions and then they still suspect he’s not acting like himself even though it’s how they see him, but its not quite right, cause it’s not actually how he is. Or at least I thought they were going to find out what was going on. But NOPE none of that happens. Instead leprechaun guy shows up again and Kirk just wonders off to fight him for the next fucking millennium! The uniforms they wore at the academy seem like they were made out of better quality material than that of a Starfleet captain’s. Poor Kirk must be having to replicate new uniforms every other day. Then they laugh I think, and sexual tension is presumably resolved. Then the aliens show up and are like yeah this planet is a holodeck we thought you’d like it also McCoy died but he didn’t and I’m like THEY DIDN’T CONSENT TO THIS. But then they decide to party.
It reminded me of a Red Dwarf episode called Better Than Life where they knowingly go into a virtual reality game which is basically the same as this planet. But over time Rimmer keeps sabotaging what he imagines cause he hates himself so much his brain won’t let him have nice things. And it’s still a comedy, but there’s an opportunity for exploring the character’s psyche with this setup that wasn’t done here and that made it boring.
The Galileo Seven: This episode was good!! In contrast to the last one it delivered on promises it made, it had a satisfying ending, it’s probably my favourite so far. The whole time I was like this should be about how Spock can be wrong and logic isn’t everything to be a good commander. But given the quality of the previous episodes wasn’t that great and Spock was always right about everything I didn’t trust them to do that. BUT I WAS WRONG. I thought it would be about how just because you don’t have emotions doesn’t mean you can disregard those of the crew. But instead it was about how he couldn’t predict their enemy wouldn’t act based on emotion rather than logic. And then he admitted he was wrong and helped the guy bury the other guy, and then they were about to die and McCoy was like at least I’ve lived to hear Spock say he fucked up. And then Spock jettisoned the fuel so that it might act like a flare but it gave them less time and I was like no you’ve learned nothing! Don’t just do things that severe without asking your crew. But then after they were saved it was described as an act of desperation rather than anything logical and Kirk was like that’s an emotion isn’t it? You acted on emotion? And Spock was like well yes but I’m not gonna say it like that.
I like that emotion was good actually. I think it’s a fine balance between the message of its ok to be different and using Spock as an analogy for racism, and inadvertently neurodiversity, but also not buying into the idea that emotions = weakness and lack of emotion, or emotional repression = objectivity. Even if you don’t factor emotion into your decisions (which would be impossible unless you don’t experience emotions at all) it doesn’t mean that you don’t have personal biases in your perspective. So I’m glad Spock was wrong for once.
The Squire of Gothos: This is Q this is Proto-Q. He does all the same things that Q does; he shows up in clothes that are way out of date (and he thinks they’re from 900 years ago when they’re clearly early 19th century) and he flirts with the captain. Oh and he has powers, maybe they were computer powers, but not all? And he goes on about humans being brutal, warmongering people but he’s kinda into it. He fights Kirk but there was actual tension so it wasn’t annoying like the one with the Irish guy. And then it turns out he was just a kid exactly like the Futurama episode, except he is a kid not 35. I think him being a kid makes the flirting seem weird though.
Arena: Kirk and the Gorn at Tanagra. Kirk fights a lizard because aliens wanted to encourage them to not fight by telling them to fight. I thought maybe these lizards could be proto Cardassians but then I thought they can’t be they don’t talk, but then he spoke so I thought they could be, but then he was the one who was invaded and was only defending his people so I thought they couldn’t be, unless that was actually just lies and justifications in which case they definitely would be, but then that would undermine the message of the episode so I guess not. I wonder how many leaders have killed each other before these alien’s negotiation tactic actually worked.
Tomorrow is Yesterday: This was fun. There were a lot of twists and turns. I wonder if it was before or after the moonlanding. Every plan just makes it worse and more and more people keep getting exposed to the future. Kirk could’ve easily just closed the door and beamed back at the end but instead opts to punch like six people. (I think this is where “a woman?” “Crewman.” Comes from).
Court Martial: What if Kirk actually did it though? Would that be more interesting? Maybe. At least here he has an age appropriate love interest. She’s prosecuting against him which is surely a conflict of interest. AND she has a uniform with a longer skirt! And it actually looks good, like it looks like an actual dress that she can sit down in and it still looks like a dress and not a crumpled up shirt. It’s elegant but it’s still short. I could see this being an option (for any gender) as a dress uniform but it would still make no sense when they’re serving on a ship.
Return of the Archons: I am LIVING for Spock in a medieval style hood. It’s giving me Peter Cook in a Mother Superior’s wimple in Bedazzled vibe, it’s not quite on that level of beauty, but it’s close. For some reason Sulu returned from the planet in 18th century gear but then everyone else is dressed like it’s the 19th century, with some medieval robes thrown in, and this annoys me more than it should. Maybe it’s because he’s a swashbuckler at heart. Apparently they had a completely peaceful society except for the nightly purge they seemed to have going on that is never mentioned again.
Space Seed: KHHANN! I liked this a lot until the end. I want to know the lore behind Data’s Dad having his middle and last name. Edit: Actually only the middle name is the same and the last name is just similar. I still think there’s lore there (excuse the pun), probably he’s a descendent of his cult followers or something. The story seemed to be eugenics bad and also the type of guy to basically be a eugenics cult leader would be super manipulative and abusive but just charming enough in a relationship. It does a pretty good job of showing the abuse in his relationship with the historian woman, how he switches between being loving and I guess charming, and flattering to being abusive and degrading. I wish that the historian woman could find someone that she can explore domination and submission with consensually cause that seems like it would be what she really wants. Anyway but in the end they just let him go? Like he tried to take over the ship but they were like here have a colony. They compared the place to Australia when the colonists arrived at Botany Bay and that it could be... I forget what the word was but basically ‘civilised’ and No NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE NO Australia was already populated and didn’t need eugenicist cult leaders who were demonstrably bad to show up make it ‘better.’ AND THEN the historian is given the choice to go with them and she does and its framed like it’s good? Or at least ok? When they just did a pretty decent job of showing how abusive and manipulative he was and she had redeemed herself by turning against him? So I get that they probably wanted to bring him back although they’re probably not gonna bring her back, but they could’ve easily had him escape instead.
A Taste of Armageddon: Suicide machines. I forget the rest.
This Side of Paradise: SEX POLLEN! Well it’s more fall in love pollen, I guess, for one character. There’s a woman and there’s the music and the soft focus and BUT WAIT then the camera cuts to Spock not Kirk! Because she has taste. It’s about this point that I think the ‘Spock’s the most popular but Shatner wants to remain the star so we’ll emphasise their character’s relationship thus inadvertently inventing slash fic’ might’ve started. It’s time for a love triangle! She makes Spock get the sex pollen, which is not getting consent, and then he falls in love with her and is climbing trees and is all happy. Kirk can’t get a text back from Spock. Then Kirk and two others get the pollen except Kirk didn’t, but he did, but anyway I thought everyone would be horny but they weren’t they were just brainwashed. Soon Kirk is all alone on the bridge, then he gets the pollen and is happy to live as a poly triad but then he gets angry and it’s gone. Then he calls Spock to the ship and approaches the situation in the only way Kirk knows how: Homoerotic punching! So they fight for not long enough and then Spock is cured but he’s a little sad, there’s sadness in his voice, it’s not quite so matter of fact. Then Spock’s gf gets sad and the sex pollen is gone too, Spock might still have feelings for her but he has responsibilities to the ship and “to that man on the bridge” which if he was saying to just mean once again the whole ship, and its mission and the captain in a professional sense, seems a little redundant, which would surely be illogical.
The colonists get sad that they haven’t done anything for years because the sex pollen made them unambitious but I would argue maybe the sex pollen was right and you were better off just vibing. This episode was more interesting and less silly than I thought the creator of sex pollen would be. At the end Spock says that for the first time in his life he was happy. While every other character could still easily become addicted to a thing like that they could at least know they would experience happiness or any feelings again in their life, for Spock it was going back to nothingness.
Devil in the Dark: Spock calls Kirk Jim which I don’t think he has before, when he’s talking over the communicator and he’s worried he’s in danger, there’s some actual fear or urgency in his voice. Also the moment that got me was when Kirk wanted to send Spock back the ship cause he didn’t trust him to kill the creature and Spock was like “but… I’m not really as useful there I am here… so…” If I was writing it I would’ve played that up more but anyway, I like that they didn’t kill the creature. I like that McCoy said the thing. And also said “I’m starting to think I can cure a rainy day.” He’s my favourite.
Errand of Mercy: It’s kinda becoming the Kirk Spock show now, I like the ship but I miss McCoy. I like that the passive pacifists who Kirk was so angry with were actually more powerful. And KLINGONS! Oh yeah the orientalism, the yellow peril, it’s… it’s there all right. They were played a lot colder here, a little Cardassian maybe, still bloodthirsty but I don’t believe this guy has to do it himself to feel honourable, he can kill for sure but he’s fine ordering someone else to do it and being a chessmaster too.
The Alternative Factor: God this one was boring. But it does have a man with the worst beard wig I’ve ever seen. Now he’s stuck fighting the bad version of himself or something to save the universe. So remember that when you’re watching later Trek series, all of this could suddenly be destroyed if one of them gets tired.
The City on the Edge of Forever: UHURA GETS TO GO ON AN AWAY MISSION! Aaaand she doesn’t get to do anything :/ The usual three go back in time! To the 60s again! Oh wait… that’s meant to be the 30s? Oh. That’s some tall hair that lady has for the 30s. But at least said lady is a character, she’s a little perfect but she does things, she has strong beliefs, she might be written a little idealised, but she is still written like a person compared to almost every other Kirk love interest. “He says it (captain) even when he doesn’t say it” is an interesting line. So she has to die, I still think they could’ve just convinced her that you don’t make friends with fascists but ok. They never say what the Clark Gable movie is.
Operation Annihilate! Kirk’s brother dies, and so does his sister in law, leaving his nephew without parents. This is never resolved and the episode ends with them laughing about how Spock got his eyesight back.
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sepublic · 4 years
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With what Dana revealed about the Blight parents and they arent what they appear to be in either a good or bad way, do you think she's going to reveal that they arent abusive? Because honestly with the whol thing with Willow and Amity's hair, the fact she never felt close to a parent, that she didnt have a place to go and that she still called a teacher Mom are all red flags. Maybe it will be that not both of them are horrible, maybe Mr Blight is also a victim?
           (TL;DR at the bottom)
           Let me get this clear; Abuse is abuse, intentional or otherwise. That it doesn’t matter if you didn’t realize how much you were hurting your loved one (like Emira and Edric), or if you were doing it ‘for their own good’ (Like Camila and Lilith). Emotional abuse is REAL and nothing can justify that, and after seeing the very elitist, almost disgusted way Mrs. Blight regarded Willow? How she’s so quick to blackmail her own daughter and someone else’s kid, and treats it like it’s all fine, implies to Amity that if she’s upset about the situation then she’s just being a silly little kid?!
           This lady is AWFUL, there’s no room for interpretation. Whyshe’s awful and in what specific ways is interesting… But she’s awful regardless. I’m pretty sure Dana was alluding to the Blight Parents having more nuance than anticipated while still being terrible people, just as Lilith had her reasons for cursing Eda but was still a bad person for never telling the truth, supporting the Emperor’s Coven, mistreating Luz, etc.
           In general, if I had to pull together my current read on the Blight Parents, and combine it with my own personal speculation and ideas…
           Mr. Blight seems like the kind of person who’s at least… straightforward and honest about his abuse. Like he doesn’t bother with the pointless, ‘sweet’ façade, acting like he’s oh-so kind and caring, that this doesn’t REALLY matter… He seems rather blunt with his feelings. Like he doesn’t try to undermine your feelings by gaslighting you into thinking they don’t matter, mostly he’s just saying, “They don’t matter to me.” Which is still, like, AWFUL, but…
           Then we have Mrs. Blight, who seems to be actively smiling at Eda’s misery in the flashback; That or she’s smiling at Lilith, but regardless. She comes across as a lot more willfully sadistic, and more intentional of a gaslighter; Someone who makes you doubt yourself by getting into your head, making you question yourself and if you’re right… Really playing it up like she DOES know best, that you’re just a silly little kid, you’ll learn and grow up eventually… It’s so dismissive and condescending.
Like, Mrs. Blight is the kind of person who when called out bats her eyes and is oh-so innocently like, “Oh, me?” As if she never did anything wrong, that at worstit was some mistake or misunderstanding… That you can still LOVE her, because she totally still loves you and always did! And then you start wondering if you were too harsh with your accusations, if you’re assuming too badly of her, that maybe Mrs. Blight didn’t ACTUALLY mean it, maybe you’re just going too far…!
           …Like let’s be real. They’re BOTH terrible. But something about Mrs. Blight rubs me the wrong way… And it’s even MORE aggravating considering how much she looks like Amity and Emira. I suspect that it’s her way of sugar-coating her abuse, dressing it up in a little bow, that REALLY contributed to the Blight Kids internalizing a lot of toxicity without even realizing it, and thus transmitting it to one another and outsiders as a result, under the impression that they’re not actuallybeing that bad, right? That if they other doubt their harshness, Mrs. Blight’s abuse undermines that doubt by reassuring the kids that they’re totally in the right and that at worst they’re just misunderstanding things!
           In Lilith’s childhood flashback, Mr. Blight doesn’t really seem to be reacting much.
          He seems mostly apathetic, aloof, and chill about the whole thing… Meanwhile, you have Mrs. Blight who very clearly has a much more willfully malicious smile to her about the situation! Though it’s hard to say what him and his wife were reacting to specifically in that moment, as they can be seen glancing at Lilith, who has just been inducted into the Emperor’s Coven…
          But their expressions could also be hold-overs from their reactions to Eda, who they likely looked down upon for being a troublemaker and defying the Emperor’s Coven in that moment, getting cursed. Knowing Mrs. Blight in particular, she was probably smugly vindicated by the moment; Like this commoner dared to spit on the very values and ideals that nobles like her held themselves up to, and was karmically punished by the Isles for this! Meanwhile she’s looking down proudly upon Lilith for actually ‘knowing her place’, for ‘learning to be one of them’, for ascending past her lowly peers and whatnot… You get the idea.
          Given the way Mrs. Blight was smiling at Lilith in that flashback, I have to wonder if in general she approved of Lilith was one of those few ‘humble beginners’ who became acceptable for the Blights to hang around, which coupled with her status as Belos’ head enforcer, led to Amity being her apprentice…
          Though I have to wonder how Mrs. Blight reacted to the Covention Incident and what Amity had to say, especially since she knows firsthand that Lilith and Eda –sort of- had their feuds in the past? I wouldn’t be shocked if she believed Amity about Lilith resorting to the Power Glyph, but still punished her daughter anyway because she’s an abuser…
          So, when you combine this with what we’ve heard from Dana herself, about the Blight Parents appearing in multiple ways that could be ‘good or bad’ for our protagonists, and Mr. Blight being an interesting person to write for…
          …I think it’s likely that Mrs. Blight was born into the family. She’s the one who has power, given how she dictates that Amity have green hair like her… She definitely has the more elitist look to her in childhood, and her VA was specifically mentioned as a guest-star and everything!
          (Getting into some baseless speculation, we know the Abomination Head can’t be the Blight Parents as they were appointed when the Coven System began, when clearly the Blight Parents were kids in its earliest years… Dumb idea, but the Abomination Head’s hair is tied back in a bun, like Mrs. Blight…?)
          So in all likelihood, Mrs. Blight is probably the one who wields the power in the family, and I have to wonder what her husband thought of it when she prioritized making Amity look like her, in the process removing the main visual connection his daughter had with him! Did he have any doubts, did Mrs. Blight have to reassure her husband that it was all in good-nature, that surely he understood as an outsider? Or…
          In Amity’s flashback, Mr. Blight specifically states that Blights only associate with the strongest of witchlings. If he did marry in as a technical outsider, this would obviously be a very conceited thing for him to say, that he considers himself worthy and strong enough to have joined the family… But after seeing his generally aloof expression, slightly unruly hair, and what Dana said? Amidst my observations of Mrs. Blight having the power, and Mr. Blight seeing more like an enforcer what his wife has to say?
           …I have to wonder if Mr. Blight was like, perhaps. The FIRST person that his wife abused and began to take control of. Like, Mrs. Blight WAS interested in him as children because Mr. Blight was genuinely charming and also pretty strong… But somewhere along the way, she used her greater social status to be in charge of him. Maybe Mrs. Blight began dictating how her significant other acted and behaved, to make sure he was ‘worthy’ enough to be a member of the Blight household. And while some of this could’ve been motivated partially by a genuine desire to see him fit in with her, as well as her own conditioning…
           …It’s still kind of an awful way to treat your beloved. Maybe Mrs. Blight intentionally abused and gaslit or him, or maybe Mr. Blight was always used to being in a position taking orders from her, out of a genuine sense of loyalty and love… And one way or the other, that twisted into him only caring what she had to say. That to him, his self-worth hinged entirely on whether or not he matched the Blight standard, if his beloved wife would approve…
           Perhaps Mr. Blight was someone who was also indoctrinated into the Blight family, not allowed to become one of them until he changed who he was? Like his relationship with his wife as kids was similar to Boscha and her friends, just sort of a follower who got roped in… But with a dash of genuine love and you’ve got him unquestioningly carrying out her orders, helping Mrs. Blight abuse their children together because can’t you see your beloved mother knows best???
           Maybe he has experience with what they’ve gone through, albeit from a more sympathetic angle from Mrs. Blight… And regardless, to Mr. Blight, he’s someone who survived the abuse and came out better, stronger for it! He knows it’s a good thing and pays off in the end, those children of theirs just need to understand…!
           Because it’s worth noting that he has brown hair. So to Mr. Blight, his wife may be the world to him in a rather toxic sense… That HER lineage matters more, that SHE graced him and his ‘humbler’ backgrounds… I have to wonder if Mr. Blight purposefully cut off ties with the rest of his family to be with his wife, either because his wife specifically demanded it or simply as a side-effect of absorbing her elitist, classist attitudes over time.
           …Like, what if Mr. Blight dyed his hair green, too?! To match with his wife… Like he’s the one always making concessions for her because SHE is the noble Blight, and he doesn’t even realize or consider how toxic it all is; Because to Mr. Blight, he takes a personal pride in serving his wife, because there really IS a genuine love there… But that real love is unknowingly hindered by Mrs. Blight needing to enforce some elitist hierarchy within the family. To Mr. Blight, he’s just repeating his wife’s mantra, he sees himself as serving his rightful place in the world, no doubt thanks to Belos and his Coven System encouraging such a viewpoint…
           And, like. There’s still some genuine, legitimate trust between these two. I wouldn’t be at all shocked if Mrs. Blight had indoctrinated her husband without either of them realizing this, because they were both kids and this is how she’d always lived! But alas, it’s worrying… That too much of his self-worth is directed towards his wife and neither of them consider this, that Mr. Blight would gladly lay down his life for her because she showed him kindness… But he’s still dependent upon her, and conditioned to be so like many others with the Emperor’s Coven!
           I also have to wonder if Mrs. Blight will be an extreme version of Lilith; Someone who legit thinks she knows best and casually gaslights others into doubting their objections without even thinking about it, without even self-reflecting upon it… Like a part of her is willfully ignorant of the harm she’s causing, or she’s taught herself to be outright dismissive of it in the end; Because surely she knows best, right? Perhaps she’s someone who casually steamrolls over what others have to say because while there’s some genuine love and interests she’s also very elitist and patronizing, and was taught that she’s the one who should be in charge.
           Then there’s my speculation, half-joking, on the idea of Luz being wholly accepted into the Blight Family, because look at this clever human who managed to wound Emperor Belos! Clearly she’s VERY powerful… Not to mention, Luz is very friend-shaped! So we could have Mrs. Blight trying to assimilate Luz into the family, dye her hair green, make Luz hang out with her kids more and more…
          And Mr. Blight is just watching it all, and when Luz expresses doubts he pulls her to the side, explains that he understands and empathizes… But then he tells her to keep going with it, because who wouldn’t want to be where he is now? That obviously it’s worth it in the end to be with your beloved Blight… Not for social status or anything, but simply to serve a higher cause, and someone you love.
           So this could be a very ‘twisted’ form of acceptance, kind of like how Lilith initially loved Eda but more the idea of her up until the season finale… Of the Blight Parents wanting Luz, but wanting a specific version of her that’s fully integrated into the family! I can see them using their influence to cut off Luz’s ties with her other friends and family, to make her more entrenched and dependent upon the Blight household…
          And naturally, Eda and Lilith and the rest, have a lot to say! Amity definitely has reservations, she wanted to keep Luz from her parents for this and other reasons… While Emira and Edric possibly take it in stride, because they don’t quite realize what’s going on, or they’re just too thrilled at having Luz be accepted to consider the implications of what’s happening! Maybe they think it’s okay because they can teach Luz how to still be her own person, or they’re just glad to have her and don’t think much of it, because while those two certainly try, they’re not always self-aware of the toxicity their parents passed on.
          Either way, Luz is inevitably going to have to make a stand and insist on still maintaining her own connections and who she is, Amity will stand up for her… And things will get messy, because I REALLY do not want to see the Blight Parents be angry! Maybe the Twins stick up for Luz and Amity or just stay to the side, because they didn’t really see the issue beforehand? Either they’re neutral and/or they take Amity’s side, there’s no story where they side with their parents!
          And, there’s the possibility that. The Blight Parents just REJECT Luz, immediately! And we’ve already seen plenty of speculation on how THAT will go… Such as the idea of them sabotaging Luz’s enrollment at Hexside, even if Belos himself doesn’t care about persecuting her as of the moment.
          TL;DR Mr. Blight was an outsider and got fully-indoctrinated into the Blight family mentality and dutifully serves his wife. While he’s still a victim of toxicity, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s now complicit in it as well, something the show addresses with characters like Lilith or Amity. Mrs. Blight is elitist and definitely more of the ‘mastermind’ who has the final say in things, but whether or not she’s actively, intentionally spiteful or is just devoid of self-awareness (or both), I can’t say!
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themaybewoman · 3 years
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You’ll Make It So Damn Big (for all the world to see)
A/N: A warm-up drabble that turned into an interpretation of Eobard Thawne’s speedforce origins.
[Read on AO3]
It feels like everybody around him is growing up. The world turns into a frenzy, as every which way the winds are blowing, but Eobard – the young Thawne standing on the precipice of adulthood – looks out on all sides and realises he’s not one of them. The winds are swirling, almost all in the same direction, but his feet are stuck to the ground, cemented in his past, a prison of his own making; His history holds him.
He still feels that, someday, he’ll make a name for himself. Just like his parents did and now want for him, just like the Thawne lineage predetermines, yet the wish he’d make is for the way of getting there – if only it wasn’t riddled with so many holes, hills, walls, and chasms to leap across. He wishes that the way he’d get there – his mandatory future – had support beams and bright lights. However, the only light for him is the hope glimmering at the end – a candlelight only one person cast upon him (a person who doesn’t even know who he is).
The thing about unrequited love is that it almost never pans out, and the back of his mind tells him this every single day. Phrases of You’ll never meet him and Find a different passion, a more sustainable one configure inside his mind, almost all sounding like someone he knows, and whatever configuration the words are in, the idea is the same: give up, go home, fall in line with the whipping whirlwinds, the status quo, and make a mansion inside of that. That’s what his father did, and a highly esteemed politician he made: governor currently campaigning for senator where a bigger name could be made. Make something like that. That’s what his mother did, and prize-worthy, scientific breakthroughs she’s already made, not to mention the world-winning books for which she’s gone on tours.
How many times has Eobard dressed for a public event congratulating his parents on their mighty achievements? How many times has he laid awake at night, wondering how on Earth he was going to top them? How many times did he fume when he saw his brother’s report card on the fridge when his own straight A’s were never satisfactory? How much longer does he have to endure this, how much longer until it’s his name written in the clouds, in the stars, uttered from the lips of people across the nation, across the world?
Hopefully soon.
But it’s just his luck that the one idea he’s rooted to feels like a pipedream.
City lights drown out the stars above. He longs to move someplace rural, far removed from the bustle of everyday, where he can see the cosmos. He doesn’t need a firsthand look (although what an adventure going to space would be!), but he wants the steadfastness, it’s array of little pinpricks of hope, just like his, to make him feel less alone.
Once upon a time, he learned the stars made sounds, so maybe he’ll invent a device that lets a human hear the sounds – the actual sounds, not a recreation. Would that be enough? Would people like that, love that, praise him and his ingenuity for that? Or would they still yearn for a greater greatness, juicing the life out of him until he’s left with the bare essentials, the pulp, the carbon form?
If he could scream ‘STOP!’ and earn a breather, he would.
And if he possessed the powers of The Flash, he could. He would race for the Canadian tundra and catch the northern lights, or race up a mountain and sleep on its peak.
At least he’s close. So close, he can taste promise of lightning in his veins. In preparation of the reaction, he has the chemicals in order and the electricity on standby, and he knows how to contain the dark matter wave. What he needs now is... well, all he ever needed. He thought by recreating the speedforce accident, he’d bestow upon himself the confidence he always lacked, but standing here physically prepared to leap, he hesitates in the realisation that the confidence he needs must come a bit sooner than that, lightning before the storm.
It’s a catch twenty-two.
He sees every step ahead of him in crystal clarity, he sees what he gets out of it, but what he lacks for this first step he’ll gain with his last. Can the stars shed light on this conundrum and tell him what to do?
Unfortunately, stars don’t exist in the city.
Eobard exhales, his lungs fogging up the two a.m. air. The murky navy-brown of sky mirrors in his eyes. Once, they seemed so clear, so decisive. Why can’t he call upon the twenty-year-old him for this? Better yet, his seven-year-old body and mind, all fascination and no doubt. All eagerness, no fear. Perhaps society’s ruined him. Perhaps his parents’ values have snuck their power around him like ivy. Perhaps he isn’t cut out for this after all.
“Of course, you are,” he grumbles to himself. “No one else is bold enough– let alone smart enough– to piece together any of what you did!”
Perhaps he just doesn’t want too.
He lifts his forearms off the railing he’s leaning against, and fingers fasten around the metal, turning his knuckles white.
Amber lights wash over the storage district of Keystone City spreading before him. It’s the cheapest place he found where he could set up his experiments; the undisclosed building he rents reside near a crisscross of highways, over and under-passing each other over. It’s his safe haven for all scientific pursuits – the legal research of a quantum physicist, and the illegal research of a speedforce-enthused young man.
Do you really want this? a part of him insists on asking again. The buzzing silence with which the rest of his mind replies scares him.
Yes. Yes! Of course I want this!
His feet break contact with the fire escape. His hands shove off from the rail.
Then, stop thinking and get the fuck inside.
Eobard spins on his heel and wrenches the emergency exit open. He steps into the rented facility and makes his way through tables and equipment, until he’s reached his chemical set up. There’s a viewing deck – small – cluttered with a couple monitors, matching keyboards, and a mug drained of tea. To the right is the contraption he’ll step inside, shining stainless steel and clear vials and straps to which his wrists and feet will be bound. In all its glory, it looks unpleasant, but appearances don’t matter – he repeats it like a mantra to appease his fluttering stomach – as it’s a means to an end only he will be experiencing. Risks have to be taken if anything is to be made of yourself.
The young Thawne takes to the viewing platform and pulls aside a monitor. Checking levels, checking contraption ability. Checking twice, then thrice. Stalling? No. Ensuring his safety? That’s more like it. The calculations, they appear sound, so Eobard hovers his fingers above go.
When he presses, he’ll have a minute. A minute until true ‘go’, a minute to prepare himself, a minute to slide into the machine and wait. If I press now, he promises, only sixty seconds stand between me and The Flash.
So, press now.
Only twenty-four years old (and a few more months until his next number up), and he’s on the verge of unlocking a brave new world for himself. His father didn’t win his first court case until twenty-seven. His mother didn’t make her first discovery until twenty-six. His brother still hasn’t done anything remarkable. I’ll be ahead of the curve.
So, maybe I’m not as much of a lost cause as everybody thought.
Guilt and the shame shed from his skin the second he presses into the space bar.
Eobard sets himself up inside the machine; steel bands wrap around his wrists and clamp around around his ankles. The machine’s generator starts to whir, glass vials of multicoloured liquid begin to drain, a rainbow, into and underneath his skin. Into me! The machine vibrates– so heavily it vibrates that the floor itself begins to rumble with power. His power, he made it. And he can taste it better than he ever has: a promise.
I’m ready.
An explosion rips through his body. It’s of white fire, all his nerves igniting with pure light. His eyes, his nose, his mouth fill with brilliance. His ears ring with blazing song. The metal cuffs dig into his skin as he body tries to fly forward.
At first, he thinks he’s grown numb; perhaps his calculations were off, perhaps he’s dead now and this is it; his stomach rolls and knots itself; but mere seconds after the thought, all thoughts knock away as he slams down. The floor beneath him is cold and rough, and it should have hurt. All he feels, however, is the fire of explosion.
The whiteness dies from his eyes. His eyes return to the compound, everything coming into focus only tinted in red. Around his body, blood still races a warmth, a cosmic warmth, the same warmth he feels gazing at the milky way they’re situated inside while his feet stand on grass – a warmth it is as if the universe were wrapping him in blankets.
Electricity shivers up and down his spine, and peering down at his hands, he notices his nerves aren’t the only thing dancing at impossible speeds. He hands and ankles shiver through the metal cuffs, which fall unceremoniously (and broken) to the floor.
Have I done it?
By analysing the current evidence, he suspects so, and his mind starts leaping to further conclusions and future tests, but at the present moment with relief and excitement and glee and triumph shooting up and flushing the nerves straight out of his system, there is really only one thing to do now. Only one way can he prove if he’s really done it, if he’s really become The Flash of the future...
Eobard steps forward, cautiously optimistic...
That single step takes him to the other side of the room.
Exhilarating!
What would twenty do? he thinks, counting as he bursts out of the building. Thirty? Sixty!? A hundred?!
Eobard Thawne bursts into the night, a streak of red following him the entire way out. Sneakers slapping against the road, he rushes through wind which shoves over trash cans and swirls litter into the air. He follows the curving, ramping highway, beating cars in a spontaneous race. The coat around him heats to an uncomfortable degree, so he throws it off, and once it’s off, it’s void, it’s out of his mind. I’m running! His feet are slapping and his thoughts are racing and every details is sharp, pristine. His heart is pumping, each pound five times stronger than ever before–!
Before long, he’s out of the city.
He’s out of the state–
–out of the country, before he comes out of autopilot.
The lightning fades when his feet skid against permafrost, limbs lit up for a second as red crackles around them, a sign of transferring energy – motion to rest. The air he huffs from his lungs condenses into a greater cloud than it did in Keystone. He knows it’s could, he feels the chill gracing his arms beneath his long-sleeve with goosebumps, but it doesn’t quench the redhot now filling him up inside. Cold is no match against raw power, and this raw power is his gasoline; he can run with it forever and ever, never batting an eye.
He tilts his head to the sky. A beautiful spread of cosmic wonder, through which northern lights flow – a river of green, violet, and red. The stars, at last, are his to see. He breathes, in and out.
You’ve made it, Eo. For all the world to see.
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OC Enneagram types!
@nade2308 I haven't been able to stop thinking about doing this since the Enneagram conversation came up in the Discord, so here it is! My seven main characters (sorry, Rowan, I'm not confident enough to type a tree just yet) and their Enneagram types, plus a short explanation and some quotes about their basic type and wing!
Robin - 4w3 As a basic type of a 4, Robin sees himself as fundamentally different from other people. He isn't sure how to fit into the world, since his dual fae-human nature leaves him feeling on the outside of all of it. He feels broken and incomplete, and keeps trying to create a place that he fits. The 4 tendency to imagine a world where they can belong led him to idealize the hunter world and want to join it like his father, despite his grandfather's warnings against it. The 3 side of his personality is also involved in the effort to fit in, to make himself into an acceptable version that people will like. “Fours feel that they are unlike other human beings, and consequently, that no one can understand them or love them adequately. They often see themselves as uniquely talented, possessing special, one-of-a-kind gifts, but also as uniquely disadvantaged or flawed. More than any other type, Fours are acutely aware of and focused on their personal differences and deficiencies...Healthy Fours are willing to reveal highly personal and potentially shameful things about themselves because they are determined to understand the truth of their experience—so that they can discover who they are and come to terms with their emotional history. This ability also enables Fours to endure suffering with a quiet strength. Their familiarity with their own darker nature makes it easier for them to process painful experiences that might overwhelm other types.” “Threes learn to perform in ways that will garner them praise and positive attention.” John - 6w5 John is deeply tied to his roots, following the family tradition of becoming a hunter with no question of whether or not that was what he wanted to do. To him, duty is the highest thing to seek after, and individual personal goals must always be secondary to what has to be done. the 5 side of his identity comes into play in his work; John feels a sense of pride in working from the shadows, knowing about vampires but hiding that secret from the larger world for its own protection. Like his great-grandfather, he's the sort of person who seeks out a person to be devoted to. Until his brother died, Gabe was the tethering force in John's life. After his death, John drifted away from his home, searching for a new connection, but struggling to find it. “Sixes are the most loyal to their friends and to their beliefs. They will “go down with the ship” and hang on to relationships of all kinds far longer than most other types.”Wanting to feel that there is something solid and clear-cut in their lives, they can become attached to explanations or positions that seem to explain their situation. Once they establish a trustworthy belief, they do not easily question it, nor do they want others to do so. The same is true for individuals in a Six’s life: once Sixes feel they can trust someone, they go to great lengths to maintain connections with the person who acts as a sounding board, a mentor, or a regulator for the Six’s emotional reactions and behavior.” “Investigating "unknown territory"—knowing something that others do not know, or creating something that no one has ever experienced—allows Fives to have a niche for themselves that no one else occupies.” Kira - 5w4 Knowing she would struggle to fit into normal society because of her deafness, Kira seeks to make herself important to others by making discoveries and creating new things. She often called on the 5 tendency to rely on their knowledge and curiosity in her classes, and made a name for herself as the smart girl, not just the Deaf girl. Her passion for strange and new fields of study allowed her to keep an open mind when she first learned of the existence of vampires, and also helped her delve deeply into the lore surrounding them when she became a vigilante hunter. As she's grown, Kira has become more in touch with the 4 side of herself as well, accepting her uniqueness and seeing that as a gift. “Behind Fives’ relentless pursuit of knowledge are deep insecurities about their ability to function successfully in the world.  Fives “take a step back” into their minds where they feel more capable. Their belief is that from the safety of their minds they will eventually figure out how to do things—and one day rejoin the world. Fives are not interested in exploring what is already familiar and well-established; rather, their attention is drawn to the unusual, the overlooked, the secret, the occult, the bizarre, the fantastic, the “unthinkable.” ” “Fours maintain their identity by seeing themselves as fundamentally different from others.” Cody - 2w3 Cody is at heart a giver. He grew up being the friend Robin needed, and that was such a formative part of his identity that when Robin left Rowan House to become a hunter, Cody felt adrift. As the youngest child of his family, he'd relied on his friendship with Robin as an outlet for his need to be useful and needed, since his siblings didn't seem to want the nurturing. Since then, he's channeled that into his work, where he enjoys helping people find the information or books or other help that they need at the library. While he's very selfless, Cody is also ambitious, deeply driven to create stories that he can share with the world. His drive to become a published, successful author is the main evidence of his 3 wing. "Being generous and going out of their way for others makes Twos feel that theirs is the richest, most meaningful way to live. The love and concern they feel—and the genuine good they do—warms their hearts and makes them feel worthwhile. Twos are most interested in what they feel to be the “really, really good” things in life—love, closeness, sharing, family, and friendship. Healthy Twos are the embodiment of “the good parent”: someone who sees [people] as they are, understands them with immense compassion, helps and encourages with infinite patience, and is always willing to lend a hand—while knowing precisely how and when to let go." "Threes are often successful and well liked because, of all the types, they most believe in themselves and in developing their talents and capacities. Threes want to make sure their lives are a success, however that is defined by their family, their culture, and their social sphere. No matter how success is defined, Threes will try to become somebody noteworthy in their family and their community." Maira - 9w8 Maira's basic 9 type has allowed her to navigate her world by finding the paths of lesser resistance. She's wise enough to know when to back down and seek another route to her goal, and this has gotten her far in her world. People respect her shrewd 'chess match' movements, but also like her as a person since she has managed to maintain a reputation of being even-handed, understanding, and willing to seek negotiated solutions. But making the mistake of thinking Maira is a pushover is a dangerous one. Her 8 side is strongest when she encounters an injustice or cruelty. Maira has her breaking point, and woe to the person who pushes her over it. "Peacemakers are the skilled mediators and counsellors in a group of friends or coworkers. They work hard behind the scenes in order to keep the group harmony steady and flowing. As children, they knew how to get along with each classmate, making them a great addition to any group project. They can easily see the many different sides to an issue and tend not to jump to conclusions quickly, if at all. Complacent and humble, Peacemakers are stable and gentle, willing to go the extra mile to avoid rocking the boat. Soft-spoken yet firm in their personal stances, they make an effort to neutralize tension and restore group harmony." "Eights have enormous willpower and vitality, and they feel most alive when they are exercising these capacities in the world. They use their abundant energy to effect changes in their environment—to “leave their mark" on it—but also to keep the environment, and especially other people, from hurting them and those they care about. At an early age, Eights understand that this requires strength, will, persistence, and endurance—qualities that they develop in themselves and which they look for in others." Emma - 5w6 Emma's 5 tendency to acquire esoteric knowledge is one of the reasons she's risen so rapidly in vampire society since her turning. She's learned a great deal about herself and her fellow vampires, and she uses that knowledge to her advantage. She's well known for being not only on the cutting edge of knowing what's happening in the city, but for being able to analyze that information and interpret what it will mean for the vampire community and the wider city population. Her 6 side is evident in her formation of a coven that accepts vampires who were not turned by its own members, giving outcasts or vampires who broke free from their sires like her a place of safety. "Fives think, “I am going to find something that I can do really well, and then I will be able to meet the challenges of life.” They therefore develop an intense focus on whatever they can master and feel secure about. Depending on their intelligence and the resources available to them, they focus intensely on mastering something that has captured their interest. Much of their time gets spent "collecting" and developing ideas and skills they believe will make them feel confident and prepared. They want to retain everything that they have learned and “carry it around in their heads.” " "Sixes rely on structures, allies, beliefs, and supports outside themselves for guidance to survive. If suitable structures do not exist, they will help create and maintain them." Arion - 7w8 Arion is perhaps the poster child of the dangerous side of the 7 type. A hedonistic pleasure seeker, he's driven by filling his life with whatever he enjoys. He has acquired a wide range of talents and interests. But his vampire bloodthirst is his most intense drive. Unlike some vampires who control and manage their impulses, Arion embraces them. He revels in the pleasure of drinking real blood, and sees nothing wrong with seeking it out. His 8 side makes him truly dangerous, because in addition to his craving for a life of comfort and ease, he has a powerful drive to do whatever it takes to attain that goal. While he is fully capable of luxuriating in his pleasures, he is also willing to temporarily put them aside in pursuit of one he believes will be even greater." "Sevens are enthusiastic about almost everything that catches their attention. They approach life with curiosity, optimism, and a sense of adventure, like “kids in a candy store” who look at the world in wide-eyed, rapt anticipation of all the good things they are about to experience. They are bold and vivacious, pursuing what they want in life with a cheerful determination. Sevens are compelled to stay on the go, moving from one experience to the next, searching for more stimulation." "Eights do not want to be controlled or to allow others to have power over them. Much of their behavior is involved with making sure that they retain and increase whatever power they have for as long as possible. They often refuse to “give in” to social convention, and they can defy fear, shame, and concern about the consequences of their actions. Although they are usually aware of what people think of them, they do not let the opinions of others sway them. They go about their business with a steely determination that can be awe inspiring, even intimidating to others."
Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4 @viawrites-andacts @amarilloskies
If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist for Magic & Silver stuff, just let me know! (Type description references taken from https://www.enneagraminstitute.com and https://www.truity.com/enneagram/9-types-enneagram) 
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moodysnowflake · 4 years
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Please mind the Spoiler slap that might come your way guys...
Let’ talk about Rufus Shinra.
Yes, he has been exploited better than the OG, and yes, once you get the hint the assesment is trying to throw at you, it’s easier to whack his butt.
He still beats the crap out of you. 
We have to realize that Rufus is a normal human being. He’s not a Turk either. Sure, he was a prodigy and has been trained by the military, and he might have trained with the Turks too during his “extended assignment oversea” (despite being him the boss, I bet Reno would still try to zap him in the crotch, if left unsupervised). Rude would gave him a sturdy run for his money (of course pun intended) and Tseng did probably manage to wipe the floor with his gorgeous platinum-blond ass at least once when they were younger. Rufus manages to stand his ground against Cloud, a final-stretch-game Cloud. Not an early-game Cloud. You have to run, dodge, parry and dive like hell, and when he hits you, it fluffing hurts. He’s the only human enemy in the Remake who actually manages to do some serious damage using a firearm. 
He’s been designed to do that, you might say. Well, yeah, duh, he’s still the only one, so that’s awesome.
Moreover, he doesn’t actually look exhausted, nor particularly beaten up when the battle ends; he just smirks his way out. We couldn’t appreciate it in the OG, but heck yes we can now. 
We might argue that’s all a façade, and I think that part of it could very well be true. Cloud did roughed him up after all. Plus, that’s his character, he would never show a speck of vulnerability (”nobody has ever see him bleed or cry” - can we seriously blame him for becoming an ice prince?).  And he’s not stupid; once he’s disarmed, he immediately opts for strategic retreat. He’s not a brainless goof, he recognized his huge disavantage: a true tactician indeed.
Him and Cloud's battle dialogue...is it just me, or did they sound like ex-boyfriends angrily snapping at each other?...
C: Think you got my number? [Cloud?]
R: Not at all. You’re making me sweat. Good thing I came prepared. [Rufus?]
C: That’s a new trick.
R: Like it? ‘Course you do.
[Did they actually meet in Before Crisis?!]
R: Let’s make it a night to remember.
Okay guys, seriously, tone it down a notch, would you? That’s too much gold for a single scene!
His outfit might not have us all agreeing, I can totally see why. That off-white contrast to Cloud’s pitch black tho...
Here’s the knot my brain is twisting itself over.
The question slammed my brain like a train, pretty much the same as Rufus’.
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I don’t know, you tell me how the heck are you seeing the Whispers...
Tseng going:
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Rufus looks at him like “Wait, what? You’re not seeing this shit? You kidding, right?” then proceeds to glare him into submission, either because he thinks Tseung might imply he’s not okay after the fight and he might be suffering some side-effects, or he’s mocking him.
[If it’s the last one, that would open another pit of thoughts, like: if he thinks Tseng is teasing him, that means that happened before. If that happened before, it means he’s not a utter cold-blooded bastard, and they interacted like functional(ish) human beings up to the point of joking. What is this? Solid character background? OG-wise, we know he’s not a saint, but we also know he’s not totally batshit cracker either. Because WRO and Avalanche. (Can’t wait for Barret’s reaction when that’ll happen. That’s gonna be spectacular XD)
Reno’s line ‘You’re sure you wanna do this by yourself, boss? (ENG)//That’s dangerous (JAP)’ could support this theory, even if we know he would talk back to Sephiroth himself.]
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Untill now it’s evident that he being able to see them is “Because Plot“
But my spider senses are tingling, feeling something lurking below.
He didn’t seem to be able to see them on the platform while Cloud’s smacking his way through. That could be arguable, ‘cause spotting dark stuff in a dark background is not that easy. 
But after the Edge of Creation cutscene (and that’s another thing I’ll talk about later), he’s pretty well able to do that. And he’s the first character we see...
So what happened in between?
Well, there’s Wedge scene...but that’s the only thing we’re allowed to see. 
Based on what’s happening in the game, you’d be able to see the Whispers because of Aerith/Sephiroth’s intervention or because the Whispers need you to see them.
That create some interesting choices, which might combine, ‘cause they’re not mutually exclusive:
1. Rufus finds/saves Wedge, or the Whispers are bringing Wedge to him (very unlikely, but you know, overthinking is so fun). He was minding his own businnes, and Wedge suddenly appears. If this happens, I don’t think he’s gonna kill him...Because Avalanche (and because if you resist Wedge’s puppy eyes you don’t have a heart, nor a soul). Yes, he’s ruthless, I know, but there are times during the story in which he doesn’t behave like a complete dickhead. Very few times. But maybe the Whispers need for Rufus and Wedge to meet, and maybe that’s what happened in the hall.
Also, my useless rambling neuron got stuck over a very stupid, very impossible, but very cute idea why Rufus wouldn’t kill him: what if Wedge and Rufus know each other? Barret and the other knows his face, but what about Wedge? Maybe somehow they casually met in Junon, or (god forsake it, my heart) even before in Midgar he saved him from whatsoever situation and he never mention it? Chances are never really zero in FFVII, but I’m well aware that this is far-fetched...like, a lot. 
How cute would it be if Wedge woke up with Rufus crouched down there, skeptically looking at him.
‘What are you doing here?’
To which he would chirp “Hey Rufus, long time no see! How’re you doing? I thought you were still in Junon.”
‘I’m the boss here, I ask the questions. What are all these creepy things flying around.’
“Well, I don’t have that much of a clear idea...Also, you’re not my boss!“
‘That’s not helping. Also, technically, yes Wedge, I am.’
”Huh?”
‘I’m Rufus Shinra. (smug smirk)’
“I know that dummy (Rufus would scrunch up his face), what I don’t understand is how that would make you my boss. Blowing up one of your reactors using your explosive can’t make me pass as construction worker.” 
‘I am not your boss because of Shinra. I am your boss because I’m the boss of the boss of your boss.’
“WAIT, WHAT?!”
*Whispers taking him away*
2. Sephiroth has a brief chat with him during the moment he’s left on his own (while we’re fighting his true self in the singularity). In the OG, Rufus always had this incontrollable drive to find Sephiroth, an inespicable and obsessive draw to hunt him down, which only Cloud match (and he’s the one guarding Jenova’s remants in Advent Children...). And no, it’s not because he killed his father...we know how idyllic that relationship was. That spark could have been started here.
3. A combination of the two. Because why not.
4. Something else within him helped the trigger.
Speaking about this, I discovered some interesting info. The Remake has retconned his age from 25 to 30, flopping back his birthday from 1982 to 1977. Five years shouldn’t make that much of a difference. We can agree, artistic licence. 
Too bad 1977 is also the exact same year Jenova’s remnants have been discovered...As well as the very start of the machination for Project S and Project G.
Using Dirge of Cerberus as reference, 1982/1983 should approximatly be Sephiroth’s birthyear. Which leaves 5 years of preparation.
Is this a coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe the president let Hojo start to experiment on baby Rufus as he saw fit. Nobody would convince me that the president wouldn’t have done it, those two are just too fucked up. That could explain why he was so flipping good with a shotgun since he was 10, why he managed to face a SOLDIER without turning into minced meat (he didn’t show negative repercussions because he could have been resistant to mako poisoning, like Zack; plus he is the only human enemy with some resistance to Poison and Magic), why the president didn’t kill him when he sided with the Turk’s assassination attempt. That wasn’t paternal love; that was probably Hojo interceding to not have a succesfull test subject except Sephiroth eliminated, promising to have him brainwashed.
Like Cloud, despite Jenova’s cells, he wouldn’t be able to see the Whispers by his own. But Sephiroth, or Aerith, might have flipped the switch in some way. Or even Jenova’s or n#2′s bodies, to which we still have no idea what happened.
4.1. The annoyed/angry glare This could also be another reason for the angry/annoyed glare he shoots Tseng, like he’s saying “You know what I am” or “You know taking me down is not that easy”. The first one reminds me of Cloud’s line to Jessie...the look is pretty similar.
Another interpretation of this expression could be that he actually has, from time to time, some odd quirks or weird moments, residues of the mako treatment/cells' interaction. It is very likely that if that’s true, Tseng - and maybe even Rude and Reno - witnessed them.
That wouldn't surprise me: he’s sporting some serious dark circles under his eyes in this scene.
So, he could be also saying “What? Are we doing this again? You still think I’m frail and crazy? Do I have to beat that out of you like last time?”
5. He touched Jenova’s blood; it wouldn’t be that improbable, since it was smeared all over the floor. That might have done the trick by itself, or, if connected to point 4, he could have been drawn to it by the cells within him, which could have worked as catalyst. 
6. Any combination of two or more of the previous points. It’s Nomura Testuya we’re talking about, they could all be true for what we know. He’s a goddamn psycho: it’s easier to build a house with a sand-pail and a plastic shovel than understand Kingdom Hearts' series plot .
 Too many questions, but the revelation that Rufus can see the Whispers is very intriguing; the whispers needs him for something. Destiny needs him for something. That makes him an even more valuable character that he already was in the OG, and I’m glad they’re doing it. 
Nobody seems to be left behind (in character development sense) this time.
We can only wait and hope.
Wish you all the best, Rufie (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *
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