#<- tag for an even more detailed answer I guess- to differentiate from my already long enough answers 💀

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

(Part 1) 

Part 2 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader 

Warnings: Murder Case descriptions and mild language  

Tags: @dra-reid 

~~~~~~~~~

Now you were incredibly nervous. More so than three weeks ago when you took the final exam. 

"Come on, (Y/N/N), you passed the damn test! Of course they want you to shadow the BAU." Gabriel tried to assure you, lying lazily on the sofa of your shared apartment. He munched on a bag of potato chips, reminding you to get on him about that later. 

"You don't know that, Gabe. Just because I passed the test doesn't automatically mean I'm a good fit. Sure, I've wanted to be a part of the BAU for as long as I can remember…"  

You sigh and rub the back of your neck with a nervous hand. "B-but that doesn't mean I'm the best candidate. My chance of success here is barely 15% at the most compared to the hoard of agents who applied for the BAU shadowing opportunity." You paced back and forth, gesturing wildly towards your best friend as you tried to calm your desperate nerves. 

"Girl, calm your tits." You turn your head, looking into the gorgeous brown eyes of your other roommate. "You and Gabe both passed. You both have great opportunities. That's more than I've gotten worth in tips for the past 3 years." Iris insists, shoving Gabriel's legs off the couch so that she could sit. Gabriel rolled his eyes and purposefully put his legs in her lap. This then began a small fight between the two of trying to win over the other. 

"(Y/N), real talk, was it me who got a shadowing opportunity to be a fuckin' profiler's protégé?" He asks, sipping on what felt like his third coke of the morning. 

You exhaled annoyedly and shook your head, giving into Gabriel's little attempt at giving you a 'lesson'. "No… though you did get offered a job. An undercover one too. I'm not even gonna get paid half of what a real profiler makes." Exasperated, you sigh and groan in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek. 

It wasn't that you didn't believe that you got accepted. No, you knew that you probably had planted some bias in Agent Hotchner three weeks ago that had helped you get accepted. No this was more doubt of 'what if I get placed on Dr. Reid's team?' 

Recently, although you had tried everything to dream of something--anything else, the handsome doctor had been firmly cemented as the star in your nightly adventures. And each morning you'd woken up with a bright red face. So that question of yours? The idea that this whole 'crush' business couldn't get worse? It got worse. 

And unfortunately, Gabriel picked up on it. 

"So what I'm getting paid more? Your job has more branches to reach out to. I can only go so damn far. And that means I can pay more rent for you." He insists. "Something tells me this ain't about the job though." He teases, wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously and flashing his whiskey-colored eyes. 

You rolled your eyes, blushing immediately at his inquire. "N-no… no this is only about the job."

"Uh huh, sure it is. It totally isn't about a certain Lover Boy you met that could potentially be the agent you shadow." He teases, swirling a pointed finger at you. 

Iris slaps his arm. "Oh hush. If she don't want to talk about him then that's fine. She's fine without a damn man on her arm." She insists, finally getting Gabriel's feet off of her legs. "Damn it, Gabe! Again with the crumbs?" Iris complained, swiping at the potato chip crumbs that had accumulated on the sofa. She pushed a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, trying to clean up the mess Gabriel had made around her. 

Gabriel just shrugged. " That's only 'cause you're only into girls, Iris." He insists, popping another chip into his mouth and crunching obnoxiously. "And yes, again with the crumbs." He says sarcastically. "But seriously, (Y/N). Just go. You'll do fine, I'm sure. There's nothing you and that mind can't do. Be sure to get me that pretty boy's number though. I wouldn't mind gettin' me some Chocolate Thunder." He playfully growled, winking at you. 

You groaned and chuckled. "Fine fine, I'll see what I can do. Try not to destroy the place while I'm gone?" You beg, grabbing your small bag and being sure to re-check your hair in the microwave reflection. 

"No promises! Have funnn!~" 

You rolled your eyes again and snickered. You quickly say your goodbyes and leave the apartment, hoping that the day wouldn't be as bad as you thought it would be. 

○●♡●○ 

You really felt the 'butterflies' now as you stepped out from the elevator. You swallowed nervously and picked at the button at the end of your blazer sleeve. 

What would Spencer even say? Would he be happy you were the one who was accepted? You hoped so. He seemed to enjoy talking to you when you met. You now wished you had the confidence to have asked for his number or to perhaps meet up for a chess game. He seemed like the kind of guy who would prefer a chess match to going on a date.

You took in a deep breath. You needed to calm down. You were going to be fine. You'd gotten this far. There was no going back. 

You exhaled the long breath and finally pushed through the glass entryway to the bullpen of the BAU. You took a moment to take in your surroundings to hopefully be able to differentiate between which offices were who's once you met their owners later as you assumed you would. 

Then, when your legs decided to work, you turned your attention to the familiar face walking towards you. 

"Agent (L/N). It's a pleasure to see you again, this time as a graduate." Agent Hotchner greeted, extending a hand for you to shake. You bit through your nervousness and took his hand, shaking it earnestly. 

"Likewise, Agent Hotchner." 

"Hotch is fine. You have a desk in front of Dr. Reid's, you should have a licensed badge and holster there as well. You already know Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid, correct?" He asks, flipping through your file. You nod in response. 

"Yes sir. We spoke the day I took my final exam." 

"Good. Come with me, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. You understand the parts of this job is like that of an actual profiler?" 

"Yes, I read it over in the job details, sir." You answered, following Hotch as he began to guide you into the bullpen. 

Almost immediately you gained the attention of three heads. One more following a blond haired woman who entered after you did. 

"Everyone, this is Agent (L/N). She's our shadow graduate. She will act as a profiler just like the three of you. She will be shadowing Agent Prentiss. I'll leave you all to get to know her. We're reviewing a case in twenty minutes." He alerts before he turns on his heel and starts walking towards his office. Guess that was Agent Hotchner for you. 

"So, we meet again baby girl." 

You roll your eyes playfully and turn towards Morgan. "So we do. Do tell me how you survived without me, Agent Morgan." You teased, winking at him. See? You could flirt. 

Spencer looked up at you with a wonder. He had been told you were the shadowing Agent, but he hadn't prepared himself for how you would look on your first day. Your clothes fit you perfectly. And he could see the slight indent on your cheek, signalling you were biting the inside again. It was adorable to him. How was he going to focus with you around? 

"Good to see you again, Dr. Reid." You greeted, snapping him from his slight haze. He jumped slightly, blushing momentarily. 

"U-uh yeah. Yeah you too. And just Reid is fine." He nods towards you, effectively raising your nerves another level. 

"So you’re the shadowing agent. At least we'll have less testosterone around." A woman with dark brown hair greets. You assume her to be Agent Emily Prentiss from her eyes. She was the agent you'd be shadowing. 

"Right." You agree, smiling with a slight giggle. "And your Agent Prentiss, right? And the woman behind you is Agent Jareau?" You guessed. Your memory was unbeatable sure, but sometimes you got names wrong. Some names might've changed within the last memory you saw them and when you see them again. 

Prentiss smiled. "Yep. Emily or Prentiss is fine with me. But she goes by JJ within the team." Prentiss gestures behind her, showing you the blond woman who waved at you sweetly. 

"Hi." She greets, extending her arm. You take her hand and shake it. "I'm JJ. You can call me that if you'd like. Jareau is fine too, if you prefer it." She assures. 

You nod in understanding and let her hand go. "Thank you. I'm glad I'm not outnumbered by men. Even if one of those men has a higher IQ than me." You snicker. 

Spencer looks up almost as if he was summoned, looking at you in interest. Morgan glances from you to Spencer, wondering what exactly you'd meant by that. "And what is that supposed to mean?" He asks, a teasing smile finding a place on his face. 

"O-oh… sorry. I don't mean to brag. I have an IQ of 167. And I can read at a maximum of 10,000 words per minute." 

Morgan grinned. "Ooh, she's coming for your title, Pretty boy." Morgan teased, shoving Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer rolled his eyes at Morgan’s teasing, more focused on you. You might not have as fast a reading speed as him, but you were quite intelligent. You enjoyed it when he began to explain certain statistics. He wondered what he'd done to earn your attention. 

"He's right, she might try to take your place as resident genius, Reid. You might want to be careful." Prentiss teased, a slight smirk on her lips. 

"Guys, really, He's the genius here. I'm just some newbie agent here to shadow one of you for a year to see if this is the field for me. That's all." You assure, raising your hands in front of your chest in surrender. 

"Oh we know. Teasing just our thing. Especially with Spence." JJ assures back, resting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. She carried a file in her hand. Probably the next case, you guessed. You wondered if you'd even get to go on this case, considering how brand new you were to this. 

Spencer sighed and you giggled a little. "And I'm sure he enjoys it. Did you know that affectionate teasing can actually be beneficial? It can help you gain insight into who you really are and gain access to your excesses. It's actually interesting to think about." 

Morgan rolled his eyes and groaned while Prentiss shook her head. "Here we go, another one of him I gotta deal with. Derek groaned sarcastically. You giggle and smile again, glad to get the rest of the group to stop teasing Spencer as much. 

"What can I say? If I find something matches a situation, why not give out the info? It might help. How many times has Reid's insight been helpful on cases?" You asked. 

Reid blinked a few times at you, staying remotely silent as he waited for his teammate's responses. Were you really defending him? After you'd barely even met him? 

"Plenty of times." JJ interjected, smiling still just as brightly. 

"See?" You point out. "Sometimes having some extra facts up there can help with problem solving." 

"Yes, being able to draw on that information is what helps me to find solutions to a multitude of problems while we're on a case." Spencer finally spoke up. 

You grin at him. "It really does. It's how I finished the test so early. That and studying. That's kind of unavoidable." 

You giggle slightly after finishing your response, hearing a quickening click of heels rapidly approaching you and your little chat circle. You turn around and smile at the very eccentric blond haired woman who had appeared behind you. 

"You're Agent (L/N), the new shadow, right?" She asks, smiling at you brightly. After you nod she smiled even brighter. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm no longer drowning in testosterone!" She exclaimed, making you laugh heartily. 

"True true. And you are… Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, right? I've read about you." You guess. And you assume you guessed right as soon as Garcia's eyes widened with surprise and glee. 

"Oh you already know me! That's great!" 

"Hey, by the way how do you know of us already? I think I would probably have forgotten everybody's name if I just looked up news articles." Morgan asks, shifting his weight off of his desk. 

"O-oh… uh…" you stutter. You'd forgotten to tell them of your hyperthymesia. Well, better now than never. "I have a condition called hyperthymesia. It's a disorder where I can't forget anything. Well, mostly anything. I still got the infancy amnesia like everyone else, but that's it. I can tell you exactly what I wore to school on my tenth day of kindergarten. And what I learned."

Morgan and Prentiss widen their eyes. "Really? You can't forget anything?" Morgan clarifies. 

"Yep. It's all up here." You assure, pointing to your head. 

"That is like, so cool. I wish I had it. No wait, no I don't. I'd never be able to forget the invasive information I have to learn about all our unsubs." Garcia rants, making you giggle. 

"Yeah, you don't want it." 

"Why choose the FBI? Especially with your condition?" Derek asks, giving you a questioning brow. 

"Look, I know I'm never going to be able to forget anything about these cases. But I want to help people. Not like a police officer. But really save people. And put the killers and rapists in prison so no one else is hurt. I've always wanted to profile, so here I am." You say sternly and almost inspiringly. Morgan thankfully backed off afterwards. 

Spencer's smile never left his face as he listened to your reasoning for choosing this line of work. Sure, he'd heard it before, but he liked hearing it. Spencer soon after stood up as soon as he saw Hotch leave his office, waiting for the announcement. 

"Everyone meet in the conference room. We'll be leaving in 40 minutes." He announces. You sigh and start to grab the badge and holster from your desk, assuming you wouldn't be going. 

"You too, (L/N)." He continued. 

You widened your eyes and didn't even think to fight the smile that crept onto your face. Morgan smiled at you and nudged your shoulder. "Look who's coming on her first case on her first day. You got a go-bag ready?" He asked. 

"I have one packed just in case in my trunk. Hotch told me to be prepared." You answered back a tad sheepishly. Morgan grinned back at you, semi-impressed. 

"Good. Now come on, can't start without you." 

You smile brighter at Morgan’s comment, adjusting your badge and holster before grabbing your bag again to head into the conference room. 

Once inside the room, you find the man you recognize to be SSA Agent David Rossi already seated. He stands and smiles at you. "You're the new agent, right?" He asks, reaching out his hand. 

"Yeah, I am. I'm Agent (L/N). It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Rossi. I've read your books. You're a great author." You greet. He smiled warmly back at you. 

"Welcome to the team. Hope you find this to be the field best suited for you." He says kindly as he takes his hand back. You nod to him. 

"I sure hope so too." 

You then both take your seats; you soon finding out that the only seat left available was next to Reid. You fought the incoming blush and took your seat, thanking JJ for the electronic tablet that she placed in front of you with the information of the case. 

"How'd you know?" 

You blink and turn towards the source of the sudden voice, smiling when you see Spencer turned slightly toward you as he flipped through his paper copy of the case. Guess he wasn't one for technology. 

"Know what?" 

"That teasing in the affectionate format can be beneficial to overall mental health? I haven't considered researching it." He asks. You sigh slightly in relief. 

"Oh, well… I have a Bachelor's degree in psychology, and I took a minor in social science. I did a little more research of my own. It was never an assignment, I just enjoyed it and wanted extra credit if my teacher would give it to me." You giggle. Spencer nodded in understanding, looking from you to the case again. 

"No technology, huh?" You observe. He looks back up at you and nodded with a slight laugh. 

"Yeah, I prefer books and paper. My phone is the least modern one that my phone company would sell me." He says, pulling it out to show it to you. 

"Interesting. I'm kinda indifferent. I love reading though. Whether online or otherwise. Especially poetry." You express. 

Spencer smiles at you again, letting out a soft, half laugh before he turned his attention to JJ and the case she was presenting. 

"The bodies of three men over the course of the last 3 months have been found in the lower parts of Illinois. The most recent one of John McAllister just one week after the last one. The Galesburg PD office connected the pattern and has contacted us for our assistance." JJ informs, turning on the screen behind her and showing the images of the three men. 

"Each man was found castrated, beaten, and without signs of a struggle. They also share the same hair color; dark brown." She adds. 

"This unsub is castrating them post or antemortem?" You ask. 

"Fortunately post-mortem. It seems to be our unsub's MO. Each man had differing injuries, but all were castrated." JJ clarifies. 

"This unsub is bringing down men who all seem to be built physically. Men who could defend themselves. This unsub might be after the power aspect of these kills." Rossi points out. 

"Perhaps… if you take a look at how each body is placed, it's almost careless. Like the unsub didn't even try to hide the bodies." Spencer adds, looking up at Morgan who spoke up next. 

"Could we be dealing with a female unsub? Or is this a man who has a harsh view of masculinity?" He asks. 

"Is there any other connection? Perhaps places they visited? People they knew?" You ask. 

"There isn't anything yet. Garcia, can you take a look at each of the victim's financial records and anything that puts them somewhere that the other victims also were?" Hotch asks. 

"I'll do that and get them right back to you as quick as I can." She answers, her face in the corner of the screen in front of all of them. 

"Good. We'll discuss the rest of the file on the jet. Wheels up in 30." 

You can't help but feel a little giddy. This was your first case! You just hoped you packed enough clothes for however long this case was going to take you. 

"You ready?" 

You turn your head and smile at Reid's presence behind you. He was holding onto the strap of his messenger bag and looking at you as you both packed up to get on the jet. He looked cute in a dark cardigan and black tie. His shirt underneath it all was navy blue, pulling together the look nicely. 

"Yeah, just a little nervous. But I'm sure it's just those damn butterflies." You teased. He laughed and shook his head. 

"I'll see you on the plane." He says with a bright smile before you two parted ways for a brief while. Now all you had to do was get your go bag from your car and get to the Jet in 28 minutes and 32 seconds. Easy, right?

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Level 28

Why are there so many chapters! What is happening!? I hope you guys are at least enjoying them all! 

Tagging: @loudartanimeeclipse and @ihavenotfallenyet

Master List

Warnings: none?

Happy reading! Hope you’re all well honey bees!

Level 28

With all of your documents now added neatly to the file Ieyasu had provided yesterday, you marched yourself from your lab towards the meeting room outside the BMT offices. Laptop in hand, you quickly set the place up and made sure your connection was excellent; the last thing you wanted was any technical difficulties.

Dr. Tokugawa and Dr. Togo arrived right on time and took seats that faced each other but were still in line with the screen. You started with a greeting that was largely ignored and kept on rolling with the critical information. A vast majority of the info Ieyasu and Mariko needed to know was about the markers being used. If even one of them were potentially affected by the drug study, you’d have to add a tube of additional markers to the assay or revise one of your tubes—neither of which you wanted to do at the moment.

“Very well done (YN),” Dr. Togo complimented, “the marker combinations work out perfectly. I especially like the addition of thirty-eight and one twenty-three to a few of the tubes.”

“I’ll agree, it’s very comprehensive and takes most of the drug studies available into account with your choice in markers.” Ieyasu followed his colleague.

“Ah, for that, you’ll have to thank the hematopathologist team. They picked the markers.” You deferred, making sure to give appropriate credits.

“Either way, that gating strategy is yours, is it not?” Ieyasu quirked an eyebrow as he stared you down.

“It is, I was trying to make the data points easier to differentiate, so I chose gates that pulled the monocyte and myeloid populations apart from each other and the rest of the lymphatic cells.” You answered.

“It’s wonderful.” Mariko smiled at you from her spot across the table. “I’m hoping you had time to read over the drug study information?”

“I did go through it last night.” You nodded, “It’s an interesting paper.”

“We’re hoping to start enrolling patients as soon as possible. How long do you think it will take to get this specific test validated?” Ieyasu pressed.

“That depends. Since we’re currently in the process of validating it, I’ve been running split samples. Could we start off by acquiring samples for me to run? I can cross-check them with the results from other institutions who’s tests are already validated.” You paused, “If we do this with each patient who has an AML diagnosis, I should get enough data for the pathologists to look at by the end of the month.”

“Sounds great, we’ll look forward to hearing from you soon then.” Mariko grinned as she made a motion to stand.

“We’ll meet back up in a month.” Ieyasu nodded in your direction, following his co-worker out of the meeting room.

You guessed that meant it was over? Breathing a sigh of relief, you sent a message to your supervisor before unhooking all your equipment and leaving the meeting room. That hadn’t taken very long, but sometimes that was a good thing. They knew what they wanted and needed, which meant you had unambiguous instructions for once. Excited, you shot off a text message to Yoshimoto and hustled back to the lab to fill Rose in.

→ Got a new work project! → Excited to tell you all about it :) Wonderful news. I look forward to hearing about it. ←

The excitement faded though the more details you gave Rose, you didn’t understand why it was such a big deal that you were working with Dr. Tokugawa. Your not a date, date crasher, as Rose fondly referred to him. Markio Togo was also on the project, and you’d already had more correspondence with her than your current date’s supposed love rival. First, you’d been annoyed, but not the only thing you were worried about was that Yoshimoto would be upset? Why would he, though? Ugh!

Groaning to yourself, you took an angry sip of your water and waited for your date to arrive. This would never have been a problem if you hadn’t talked to Rose, it’s like she enjoyed pulling you out of your comfort zone. YOu were so wrapped up in thought you didn’t even notice when Yoshimoto sat down.

“I thought it was good news?” He tried, leaning towards you cautiously.

“AAHHhhHh!” you yelped, nearly spilling your drink as you apologized frantically to all of the startled dinner patrons throughout the restaurant. “Don’t do that. You scared the crap out of me.”

“I can see that.” Yoshimoto chuckled as he gently folded his hands on the table. “So, news?”

“Oh, right. So, I uh, our lab got picked to run tests for a new treatment drug.” You started.

“That’s fantastic; I assume that’s going to keep you busy at work?” Yoshimoto shared a genuine smile.

“It should. It has been. They want to use the assay I’ve been working on for the past year to look at disease levels in patients.” You explained.

“If it’s good news, why do you look so sour?” Yoshi pressed on.

“Eh, it’s just sort of weird? You spend tons of time developing a test and working on getting it validated, but when people ask to use it, or you get to see it in action doing a cool thing, it makes you feel a weird mix of pride and horror.”

“Oh, do explain.” He cocked his head to the side and listened.

“Clearly I’m smart enough to navigate my way through assay development, but sometimes you just sit there and wonder why they let you do stuff that’s as important as this. Yanno?” You posed the question, not expecting an answer.

“Well, I can assure you I’m more apt to trust something a friend recommends. I’m sure your test is magnificent.” Yoshimoto complimented. “Besides, they wouldn’t have picked it if they didn’t see some practical use for it.”

“That’s true, Dr. Togo and Tokugawa know what they’re doing. You don’t become experts in a field by poking around doing nothing all day.” You sighed, body relaxing a little after the pep talk.

Though the roles seemed to be reversed now, where you had been able to relax, Yoshimoto seemed to have been wound a bit tighter. You cursed that Rose had been right and tried to play it off. If you kept going and tried your hardest not to be awkward, it wouldn’t get awkward. Right? Wrong.

“Dr. Togo? Dr. Tokugawa? Are you going to be working with them closely on this project.” Yoshimoto asked.

“Probably, though, I don’t know why I’d see them any more than I already do, though, maybe for development updates and data review meetings.” You shrugged, sensing the weird atmosphere. “They’re a weird team, but they balance out nicely, where Ieyasu falls short in most social situations Mariko picks up the slack. Meetings are interesting, but productive.”

“Ah, I see.” Yoshimoto was short, but his tone was light as he continued to listen to what you had to say.

“I’ve been tasked with getting the test validated by the end of the month, so as long as I have enough samples, they plan to keep me busy.” You chuckled, rubbing at the back of your neck.

“A shame, I had planned to ask you to several engagements.” Yoshimoto stated.

Was he pouting? It was literally going to be a month, and it’s not like you were going to take up living in your lab while you worked on the project, so why was he acting super weird? Was it just because you had mentioned Ieyasu? Suddenly you were agitated all over again, this wouldn’t have been a problem if Rose had kept her mouth shut and hadn’t told anyone who you’d been crushing on, but you also didn’t understand why it was a big deal in the first place. You’d been going out with Yoshimoto hadn’t you?

“You can still ask me about those engagements, you know.” Your face fell, and your voice showed your agitation.

“I don’t believe it wise to get in the way of your work.” Yoshimoto sensed the change in mood and moved forward, trying to close some of the space.

“It’s not your job to decide what does and doesn’t distract me from doing my work. It’s never been a problem before, why would it be a problem now?” You asked, tone cold.

“Right you are. Shall we order then? I’ll let you know about the events as they come.” Yoshimoto smiled, but you were too over the conversation to return it.

“Whatever.” It was the last thing you remembered saying the rest of the meal.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen yoshimoto x mc #ikesen gamer au #ikesen modern au #ikesen reader insert #ikesen self insert #why are there so many chapters fam!?

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 2x15 Phases

aka male aggression and the Buffy feminism

Welcome to this dailyish text post series where I will rewatch an episode of Buffy and point out / hyperfocus on one detail in it in 10-3k words. Or maybe go through each and every random scene I choose. Rules are fake.

And today’s episode is one that I enjoy and love immensely, but it’s also the perfect opportunity to talk about the dreaded subject:

Why does Buffy’s feminism feel dated?

But before that, it’s time for everyone’s* (*my) favorite segment - Buffy/Willow out of context.

Buffy:  Meow! Willow:  Really? Thanks. I've never gotten a 'meow' before.

Even Larry’s being gross about wanting ‘some of that Buffy/Willow action’... And like... I know that you’re going through stuff my dude, but still., don’t ruin this for the rest of us.

Willow is also complaining about guys and dudes in general at least three different times in this episode. (Sometimes to Buffy, but sometimes to Cordelia??? I’m definitely sleeping on that ship.) And I’m just sitting here being like... aw, honey... you really don’t need them... trust me.

Anyhow, we could be sitting here dissecting all that, but I set out with a different goal today, and I’m trying to cut it short, so let’s talk.

Buffy feminism.

At this point anyone in and out of the fandom is familiar with the debate of how Buffy’s - and in turn, Whedon’s - feminism has aged, and that while it had a huge impact on its time and laid the groundwork for today’s popculture scene, we’ve evolved since then.

And I don’t think many would negate a lot of that. The Buffy feminism certainly lacks intersectionality and works with a lot of tropes and archetypes that has its fair share of negative elements and implications. And Whedon’s later work have memorably been taken to court by fandom for such cases.

So the question that I ended up on some time ago was a natural result of that trail of thought.

Was Buffy ever intended to be feminist?

Spoiler alert: the answer is both yes and no. It’s Schroedinger’s feminism.

But first, I want to make it clear that I don’t intend to argue that Buffy isn’t feminist, or didn’t influence our culture massively in that direction. In the 90s, a show with a female lead was still the outlier, and the fact that it gained such a universal following is somewhat mind-blowing. Especially if you consider the grudge our culture holds against teenage girls, even today.

On top of that, Buffy’s character concept goes against the idea of the Strong Female Character (often known as Female Side Character With Some Masculine Traits To Show That She’s Not Like Other Girls Who Can Kind Of Hold Her Own Next To Our Male Lead But He’s Still Better At Things Of Course), by being both immensely powerful and unabashedly teen girly. And then only becoming more complex and memorable as the seasons went on.

Not to mention the fact that the show also had an even ratio of female:male co-stars for most of its run. Meaning that there were plenty of other female characters to develop beside the titular lead, making it a largely female-driven series in general.

As a result of all that, it’s no wonder that Whedon gained a reputation as a staunch feminist - and again, he was a trailblazer when it came to female-led television shows... But I think conflating his ideals with the show’s themes is where we fell into a pitfall.

People complaining about diversity in media often cite ‘agendas’ or ‘pandering’. Which is an immensely simplified (and stupid) way to look at things that is meant to paint going against the norms in a negative way. See, if the creators decide to include characters of different backgrounds because it’s important to them, or because they want to talk about their own experiences, then they have an ‘agenda’. The agenda being using art to talk about things they find important, I guess...

And then there’s this idea that studios / companies / creators just want to please an under-served audience, and profit out of their enthusiasm when they make such media. In contrast to pleasing the audience of the status quo 90% of the time otherwise. I guess.

I’m bringing this all up because the argument that a lot of these people bring up is that representation and diversity is okay if there’s a “reason” for it. Which... yeah, we already covered why I think this line of thinking is so incredibly flawed, but on the other hand... I think Buffy actually satisfies that criteria.

Ideas such as gender roles are baked into show’s concept. Buffy is literally fighting the patriarchy and rape culture (among other things), so it only makes sense that she’s a girl. Meanwhile the character who will end up being gay is the one who struggles the most with their identity. These things are literally building into the bigger picture that the show’s attempting to make.

Now, I will say this though - differentiating and drawing the lines between these things (sincere desire for representation vs. financial strategy vs. exploring themes) is impossible. Everything can be a little bit of each or something else entirely. That’s also why debating intent to undermine representation is such a cheap transparent move.

Nevertheless, I have decided to approach Buffy’s feminism and many of its other themes from the angle of thematic intent. And this episode is a prime example of how the heightened reality of toxic masculinity and its deconstruction look like on the show.

Phases is very unsubtle when stating its thesis. All men are beasts (a reoccurring theme for sure). And for that we have three male characters to examine: Oz, Larry and Cain. (And to a lesser extent Xander and Giles)

Cain is pretty much the least complex of all. He’s a misogynistic douchebag who constantly berates Buffy for “being a girl”, while also hunting essentially human beings for money. He’s completely one-dimensional and irredeemable, and the only thing he’s good for is so Buffy could destroy his gun and tell him to get the hell out of town.

I suppose he’s also there to contrast Giles, but there’s not much there to talk about. Giles respects and supports Buffy, I guess.

Now, Larry and Oz - that’s a more interesting contrast.

Larry was previously introduced as Xander’s bully, but this episode goes above and beyond establishing him as an all around creep. He makes gross comments at all the girls and literally gropes Buffy, and it all culminates in the Scoobies deducting that he must be the werewolf for being so aggressive and douchey.

And then it turns out that... no, he’s just gay. Which, like... the Gay Bully is certainly a trope that’s probably died out at this point, but this does make sense in the context of this episode and the show’s tendency to deconstruct. The idea that performative aggression like Larry’s can actually be a sign of an unresolved conflict with ourselves. And once that’s resolved, we can find a way to live without that facade and be our more authentic self.

Which is an interesting way to contrast him with Oz, as he appears to be the sweetest, chillest guy in the whole Sunnydale area. He literally tucks the tag on Willow’s shirt back like??? Too good for this world.

But then it turns out that he’ll now also become a werewolf 3 days out of a month, a creature of pure instinct and aggression. And given how reserved Oz is in his day-to-day life, that’s an interesting dichotomy. Is that supposed to represent him getting his rage on and finally letting loose of his emotions, or does it suggest a more aggressive inner layer of his character in general?

(Future knowledge mostly points towards the former, but I feel like it’d be interesting to talk about Oz from the latter perspective.)

It’s also an interesting tidbit how the episode mentions that the werewolf could be female, but then continues to refer to them as a ‘he’ anyway. It’s as if the episode is self-aware of its own theme.

...But then we get a lycanthropy- period cycle parallel made in the end anyway, when Willow’s like ‘well, I’m not much fun to be around 3 days-a-month either’. So there’s that.

Then there’s Xander. I’ve recently heard about an alleged quote where Whedon apparently said that they considered writing either Willow or Xander as gay at some point. And that was certainly in my head during Larry’s coming out scene, which makes Xander’s intense no-homo reaction much more layered. He’s essentially Larry in that scenario, aggressively trying to ignore his own inner conflict.

...Which also made me think of another coming out scene on the show and Buffy’s initial, if brief reaction to it.

Looking at Xander’s character from this angle also puts his obsession with his masculinity into perspective. Although his character arc, especially given the show’s themes about gender roles, remains interesting either way.

Oh yeah, and he’s super jealous about Willow and Oz. We’ll definitely get back to that in S3.

Buffy’s comment about Oz being the loyal type meanwhile is S4 material.

Onwards!

#buffy rewatch 2k19 #btvs talk #btvs

[roxywashere]

What’s Up, Danger

Rey acclimates to her powers

Rey Walker, better known as the superhero Neon, had very suddenly become a celebrity after being inducted into Astra’s League, the world's most prestigious superhero organization. She sat in the League's headquarters, FursTech Tower in Danesville, Wisconsin, at 3 in the morning January 1st 2101, watching as 24-hour news stations scrambled to uncover everything they could about this random punk-rocker who had just been thrust onto the world's stage. Her best friends and long-time crime-fighting partners Hilda Furst, Elle Ectric, and Shailene Octavia stood around watching the same holographic screens where they were also being analysed for the same reasons.

“This is so weird,” Rey commented as she watched the TMZ office argue about the team’s power levels while all still wearing party hats from their New Years party just hours before.

“You’ll get used to it,” Aradia Furst told her. 

“I’m literally being interviewed by like 17 people every single minute and I hate it,” Hilda said. She was apparently Aradia’s second cousin three times removed (Hilda’s great-great-great-great-grandparents were Aradia’s great-grandparents), which Hilda had only learned when she saw it on MSNBC’s coverage of her. “I’ve never killed myself in public before but I’m this fucking close to doing it just to have one less body for everybody to interrogate.” She’d never been this stressed out by her power before, at least that she’d let her best friends know.

“This is exactly why I don’t like going out in public,” Elle said.

“Well, I guess you’re going to be travelling exclusively by lightning bolt forever now because your ass is famous worldwide.”

“I wish my ass was famous,” Shailene mumbled.

“Don’t go getting any ideas, now,” Aradia chastised. “We’re public figures, we have to keep a clean facade.”

“I mean, do we have to? Or is that just how things have been done? What if it’s tasteful? With, like, a real photographer?”

“If you want to draw Astra’s ire, go ahead. But I’ll be looking down my nose at you the whole time.”

“All I heard was ‘go ahead’.”

“Do you pay us?” Hilda asked. “Or would we have to do brand deals and shit.”

“You each get a monthly stipend which will support a quite comfortable housing arrangement,” Aradia answered. “Anything else you wish to earn on top of that is up to you. I would suggest that you wait to get comfortable with your new income before you start trying to supplement it.”

“Is that on top of, or replacing, your basic income program?”

Aradia was at a loss for words. “No League members have ever been on the program before. I never even considered that it was a possibility.”

Rey’s phone dinged with a new message. She was actually kind of surprised that it wasn’t just constantly going off since the press conference. The text, and the ones that immediately followed it, read:

Hey, this is Felicia The waitress From the diner You gave me your number Are you busy right now? You’re probably busy You can ignore me if you’re busy

With a brief burst of her superspeed Rey texted back:

                                          I'm not busy don’t worry                                           Just watching the news                                           hyd?

What is this, the 20s? ‘hyd’?

                                          I’m old fashioned

I get enough old fashioned at this fucking diner

                                          Is your shift over?

Almost. Another hour

                                          You work third shift often?

Only tonight I drew the short straw to work the new year shift

                                          You busy after?

I was planning on sleeping

                                          That’s probably a good idea

I could wait until after getting an early breakfast tho

                                          Wanna come to Danesville?                                           I know a couple places

Danesville is a 10 hour drive from here

                                          I can carry you                                           Btw, whats the actual address of the diner                                           I kinda just stumbled upon you last time

1 Mile Run Rd Allenwood PA We’re right next to Little Mountain State Park off I-80

Suddenly Hilda jumped out of her seat, yelling “FUCK!”

“What is it?” Aradia asked.

“The Harlequin just showed up at one of my bank security guard jobs. Midwest Federal.”

A plasma trail traced from the chair Rey had been sitting in to the workshop’s balcony, where Rey already was, leaning over it to look out over the city. “Alright Aradia, time to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I suppose it is.” Aradia got to work casting a portal, but instead of waiting Rey jumped over the railing and ran down the side of the building. Running down a building was always much harder than running up one, but it was so much more exhilarating. On her way down, she sent one last text to Felicia:

Gotta go. Duty calls. See you in an hour hopefully If I never text back then that means I’m dead 👉😎👉

She made it to the bottom with no problems, and flowed through the city until she stopped in front of the bank. Five of Hilda in bank security guard uniforms were standing with their handguns pointed at the door. All the lights inside were dark, and the front door looked like it had been smashed in. A second later the portal Aradia had been casting finally opened, behind Hilda and Rey.

“Wait,” Shay said, double-taking at the balcony of the workshop behind her. “How did you...”

“I’ve been here for like five minutes, guys,” Rey taunted.

An ATM came flying out of the bank’s front doors, followed by a shrill roar. Rey stepped out of the way, pulling one of Hilda who was also in the way along with her.

“What the fuck was that? I thought you said the Harlequin was in there?”

“I swear to god I saw her mask for an instant before she killed me,” Hilda said.

“Is she working with somebody new?”

“Let’s not wait to see...” Aradia said. “HARLEQUIN!” I know you’re in there. You’ve slipped under my radar for far too long.”

Another roar rang out. And then a slow stomping, slowly growing closer. And eventually some creature stepped out of the shadows, with red-and-white checkered scales, wearing the Harlequin’s mask: a plain featureless oval, half red and half white. Except the mask had been split across its width, a third of the way up, by a thick crack which was now its mouth.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Elle asked.

It spoke, in a low, rasping tone. “Hello, Aradia. Recognise me?”

“Why should I, fiend?” Aradia demanded.

“Twofold, witch. Your father was a thorn in my side for decades, one. And you and I spoke face to face only 7 days and a few hours ago, two.”

The Harlequin had been a consistent foe of her father in his early days before joining Astra’s League, this Aradia was familiar with. But, seven days and a few hours ago, Aradia had been at Johanna Kerr’s christmas ball, before it had been blown up by what evidence suggested was the Harlequin, or at least her goons. Aradia would have remembered encountering this beast there.

“What happened to you, Harlequin. This is something new, even for you.”

“I’ll spare you the details of my weakness, if you please. I’ll only have you know that it was and remains to be very painful.”

Something clicked in Aradia’s mind. Could it have something to do with the massive explosion the Harlequin had triggered after Aradia had left the christmas ball? If she had been at the ball to trigger the bomb, she likely would also have been caught in it. That would be more than enough energy to disrupt the impenetrability of her superhuman skin and possibly cause this strange alteration. It was a chemistry gauntlet to work through some other time, however, and especially not as a mere thought experiment.

“Then allow me to relieve your pain,” Aradia announced, straightening her back, and drawing herself up into the standard casting stance, one hand held in front of the other, fingers ready to trace magic circles into the air. “Girls, do what you do.”

The very first thing the Harlequin did was wrench a piece of the door frame out of the wall, and attempt to use it as a javelin to spear Aradia. As before, Rey leapt in to pull Aradia out of the way of the projectile, which embedded into a concrete wall across the street.

“Don’t worry about me getting hit,” Aradia told Rey. “I’m more robust than I look. Focus on taking this thing out.” She then quickly summoned a simple but strong magical barrier, and used it to give herself cover while maneuvered herself next to Hilda.

Meanwhile, Elle and Shay put their powers to work together, performing one of their favorite tag-team moves. Shay reached out and liberated the bronze fixtures from the destroyed door, which she psychically compacted into two rods and Elle then pumped a voltage differential into. Shay launched them at the Harlequin, which hit and elicited a scream as the voltages equalized through her.

Once Aradia had sidled up to Hilda, she asked of her “I’m going to need you to duplicate something for me, quickly.”

“What is it?”

Aradia knelt down and anchored her barrier to the street. She then plucked a dimly glowing white jewel off one of her necklaces and handed it to Hilda. “Its magic and that's all you'll understand even if I explained it. Took me a few years to understand myself.”

Hilda took the jewel and quickly duplicated herself to five, before passing the now 5 jewels to the middle-most her and re-condensing herself back to one. She repeated the duplication once more, before handing them to Aradia. Piled together in a hoard of 25, their combined glow was now about as bright as an average light bulb.

“That’ll do quite nicely,” Aradia said. She dumped all but one into her sleeve, cradling the last one in her palm. She pumped her light through her skin into the jem.

Aradia stood up, clenching her other fist and dissipating the shield she had summoned. She tossed the jewel towards the Harlequin, and yelled “Rey! Blast this with me!”

While Aradia cast a spell to focus her light, Rey zipped in and examined the jem. In the compressed time that her power afforded her, she grabbed it out of the air, and made a deliberate pondering pose for a long enough fraction of a second that she would be visible doing it. She then walked up to the Harlequin, and held it out in front of the Harlequin’s mask. While the Harlequin did a double-take at the audacity of the act, Rey asked “This a good spot?”

“Perfect.” Aradia illuminated the jem with a brilliant white laser projected from her fingertip. Rey, for her own part, channeled her power to siphon some of the plasma that was fueling her into it as well. It was less than a second before Rey felt a crack, and took that has her cue to let go and back away very casually.

Rey watched from a roof across the street as the jewel exploded, throwing the Harlequin through the wall of the bank. 

She only recently had been able to go this fast, after Aradia had given her an upgrade: The Heart. The Heart was a backpack fusion reactor that produced functionally infinite plasma for her to fuel her power with. She use to be able to consistently hit speeds of about fifteen miles a minute, but she’d only be able to sustain that for a handful of minutes. With the Heart, however, she’d been clocking a mile a second, and she had been able to sustain that for at least fifteen minutes, long enough to run from New York City to Danesville, without a sweat.

She pulled her phone out and checked to see Felicia’s response:

If that becomes the last text you ever send anybody i’m donating this phone to the smithsonian for their astras league exhibit

Rey smiled, and put her phone away. She went to step off the roof, but stopped when she noticed a strange flower growing out of the gravel spread across the roof. She summoned some plasma to her palm to shine a light on the flower, which closed its petals against the intense beam of sun-simulacrum.

She heard a crunch against the gravel behind her, and as quickly as she could she turned to face the sound, delivering her neck quite nicely into the grasp of a viney tentacle.

“Well, well, well,” world-infamous supervillainess Babalon said, as she lifted Rey off the ground.

She was dark-skinned, indian-american if Rey remembered the various tv specials about her correctly. Her hair was a long braided tangle, interwoven with branches and interspersed with flowers. She was wearing a bodysuit that was either made of leaves or designed to look like it was made of leaves. Holding her up off the ground were a dozen or so ten-foot-long, inch-thick vines that sprouted from her back and waist, one of which was stretched out and holding Rey. Each vine ended in a bundle of two-foot-long “fingers” each of which could move individually but tended to be used in groups. The fingers were what was wrapped around Rey's neck, preventing her from making her retreat.

Babalon drew herself closer to Rey. “It seems the self-pompous priestess of light has found herself a new disciple. Wanna know what I did to the last one?”

“I'm good, actually. Hey, why'd you name yourself Babalon?” Rey responded, grabbing the vine around her neck with both hands and channeling some of her plasma into it. Babalon recoiled as two feet of that vine was instantly incinerated.

“She gave you the Light too?! HOW?!” Babalon screamed as she swung another of her vines at Rey, faster even than most other superspeedsters Rey had ever met. No wonder she was on the top tier, worthy of being one of the few that drew Astra herself out to fight.

Rey needed to actually focus. Her new upgrade gave her an edge, but only barely.

She boosted herself backwards, remembering just a little too late that the edge of the roof had been behind her. She tripped over the parapet and fell back over the edge, and slowed time down to give her some space for thought. She was about 5 stories up. It would take about 4 seconds to reach the ground. That was plenty of time. She brought her hand to her chin and pondered.

She had only had three hours to adjust to her new power level, but she was fairly confident in her ability. She had developed one specific new skill, something almost unnoticeable that she had nonetheless noticed running up and down buildings all night. She just needed to figure out how to do it on purpose.

She felt the writing mass of plasma on her back, the Heart, given to her by Aradia. She felt its warmth, its light. “The Light”, Babalon had called it. Astra, local goddess she was, had never revealed what it was that fueled her cosmic might, but she did do a lot of glowing while she used it. Was this the same Light? Rey had no idea, but it was a fun little supposition to make. And it did somewhat explain the aforementioned new skill.

“Are you... posing?” Babalon asked, apparently appalled by the gall Rey was exhibiting.

Rey had been focusing on both her inner monologue and maintaining the hand to the chin, and hadn’t noticed that time had resumed normal speed and she hadn’t continued falling.

“What the fuck?!” Shay yelled. “I’m not doing that!

Rey looked at herself. She appeared to be just standing at a 90 degree angle from vertical, 45 feet above the street. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.” As she moved, the plasma trail that indicated she was using her power traced her every gesture.

Babalon lunged over the edge, and Rey cut out her power to drop herself out of reach. Shay reached out and grabbed Rey before she hit the ground, following the unprecedented failure of Rey to reactivate the hovering part with the rest of her powers.

“That was weird,” Rey told the others as she righted herself. “Anyway, what’s up with this bitch, Rad?”

Aradia gave Rey a look of annoyance for using her nickname. “That’s Jane Newark. She’s...” Aradia sighed. “A pseudodemon, and a Whore.”

“Wow, strong words. But, I get the idea. Let’s kick her ass.”

A brick whizzed past Rey's head. “Forgetting something?” the Harlequin growled.

“Elle, help me out with Babalon, the rest of you keep dealing with dollface.”

Elle zapped up to the roof with Babalon, with Rey following.

“The witch’s new toys are out to play, I see...” Babalon said as she circled the two. “I’ve killed 5 of Astra’s League, you two small fries don’t stand a chance.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Rey said winding up a punch, Elle standing behind her. “Elle, now!”

Elle jumped forwards, converting herself into pure electrical energy, electrical plasma. She wrapped herself around Rey’s arm, and Rey absorbed her and used her energy to launch herself forward, fist first. Elle released herself the instant Rey’s fist hit Babalon’s chest, exploding out of Rey’s hand, shooting forwards and launching Babalon into the sky.

Elle continued to the clouds, dragging Babalon along with her. She rematerialized periodically, taking opportunities to give Babalon a kick or two before returning to plasma to dodge Babalon’s flailing vines. On the ground, Rey flowed through the streets, following Elle’s flashes of lightning.

Elle eventually let Babalon go in the middle of a cloud over a field outside the city. She struck down to the ground, and started waiting for Babalon to fall down to her. Rey caught up only a few seconds later. They acknowledged each other with a fistbump that crackled with static and neon.

“So what was with that flying thing back there?” Elle asked.

“I don’t really know. This nuclear backpack Rad gave me has some fucking magic in it or something.”

“Can you do it again?”

“I mean, probably. I don’t know how though. How do you do it?”

‘“It’s just an instinctual extension of my power. But it’s not really the same as, like, how Astra flies.”

“I mean, obviously. But I gotta start somewhere.”

“What if you just try running up?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“When you run with your power, it’s like pushing yourself in the direction you want to go, right? Just do that, but up.”

“I don’t know...” Rey was silent as she looked up to inspect Babalon's progress towards the ground. “Wait, shit, I just got it.”

“Got what?”

“It’s the Garden of Babalon, because she controls plants.”

Elle sighed. “That does make sense, yeah. You wanna give it a go, with me giving you a boost?”

“Give what a go?”

“Running up.”

“I mean, sure. But you gotta promise to catch me if it don't work.” Rey reached out her hand towards Elle

“Deal.” Elle took Rey’s hand. “3, 2, 1...” Elle converted to lightning and crackled over Rey’s skin as Rey absorbed her, before Rey knelt down and then jumped into the air, Elle releasing herself to give Rey a little extra height.

Rey tried doing what Elle suggested, activating her power to try to force herself higher. As Elle jumped out of her, Rey tried to siphon some of the extra energy Elle had given her, and add it to her reservoir.

She didn’t expect that she would be rocketed into the sky at the same speed she could run. She passed Babalon, still on her own journey down, before she knew what was happening, and hit the clouds in a single second.

Elle, still nearly on the ground, for a second thought her friend had exploded or somehow vaporized herself, until she backed away and saw Rey’s plasma trail tracing a thick, bright line straight up. “Holy shit, Rey.”

Rey, now whizzing past the clouds, considered what to do next. She calmly pulled some plasma from the Heart, though not nearly as much as she used to get into this position, and then tried activating her power downwards to slow her still very rapid ascent through the atmosphere. She managed to stop herself before she got to the point where the air would be too thin to breath, and then let herself start to drop back down to Earth. She periodically slowed herself down, until she was continuously doing it, and was floating like she had done accidentally before. She experimented with the hypothetical throttle of her power, gently increasing and decreasing to raise higher and lower, and then tried to change the angle at which the was directing her power, and managed to achieve something quite analogous to how she assumed someone like Astra could fly.

She glanced down, and noticed Elle zapping around a very angry looking dot, and dropped down to join her.

“Nice of you to join us,” Elle said as Rey gently fell to a stop a few dozen feet above the grass.

“Hey, turns out, I can totally fly.”

“Join the club.”

“We just did, like 5 hours ago.”

“Shut and help me, Rey.”

Rey dropped down to the ground, where Babalon was swinging her vines wildly to try and and reach the two heroes floating just out of her reach.

“You getting tired yet?” Rey asked her. “If you want I could go get Astra, somebody you can actually get some good swings in with.”

“Don’t act like you’re too powerful for me. You haven’t laid a finger on me either, you stupid punk.”

“Tell that to your singed vine.”

Babalon lunged at Rey, growling with frustration. Rey zipped past her vines, and grabbed the vine harness that anchored her plant limbs to her human body. Rey pumped plasma directly from the Heart onto the vines, incinerating them and burning away the leaf-like costume Babalon was wearing.

Babalon swung one of her human arms, hitting Rey and sending her flying.

Rey crashed into the grass, rolling and yelling in pain. “FUCK! I think my rib is broken...”

Babalon, now robbed of her major advantage and seething with rage, stomped towards the now vulnerable hero. “That’s why it takes Astra to handle me, you petulant child. She can take a hit.”

Elle zapped over to Rey, to put herself between Rey and Babalon. “You get back, you bitch.” Elle unwound the chains she kept wrapped around her arms, and started swinging them, striking sparks between them. “We aren’t done here, yet.”

“I’ll just kill you both, then.”

Elle ran at Babalon, and then zapped around her, leaving her chains corporeal enough to wrap around Babalon’s arms. Elle materialized behind her and twisted the chains to bind Babalon’s arms behind her. “Do anything stupid and your heart’s a piece of burnt toast.”

“Bold of you to assume I have one.”

“Well, if you say so.” Elle pumped 10,000 volts across her hands, sending the current across Babalon’s shoulders, setting her skin on fire most evidently. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Elle atomized the chains and rematerialized them back on her own arms, and then kicked Babalon to the ground, where she screamed in apparent agony. “Rey, do you think you can walk?”

Rey slowly got to her feet, grunting occasionally whenever she agitated the broken rib. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Can you send up a flare?”

“Yeah.” Rey raised her palm up to the sky, and launched a plasma ball into the air, arcing slightly towards the city.

A portal appeared a dozen seconds later, out of which Aradia, Shay, and Hilda stepped. Rey saw, through the portal, the Harlequin, restrained tightly by a few dozen feet of chain wrapped around her, being loaded into a police van.

“Good work, girls,” Aradia congratulated. “You are certainly working hard to earn your place on this team.” Aradia strode towards the writhing Babalon, and pulled all of the adamantium from the jewelry she was wearing and sent it to lift Babalon and hogtie her. “Wait until Astra hears how the youngest members of the League took you down on their own.”

“Your threats of humiliation mean nothing, witch,” Babalon spat.

Aradia muzzled Babalon with the remaining adamantium she had. “Shut the fuck up, Whore.”

Rey limped over. “Hey, I don’t suppose you got any healing magic, do you?”

“Depends how severe your injury.”

“Broken rib?”

“Just one? No trouble at all.” Aradia quickly danced out a spell, which sent a warmth up through Rey’s ribcage. “Now, I would suggest you rest for a while before...”

“No can do, doc, I’ve got a date to keep.” Punctuated by a communal sigh from all five of the other women, Rey zipped off.

#Astraverse #Rey Walker #superhero #superhero literature #Serial story #writing

[fatcatsarecats]

Bossy Boots Strikes Again

Madara & Tobirama  Words: 3,051 A/N: Kid!Tobi is back to serve your daily dose of fluff! Huge thanks to @redhothollyberries​ for giving me hc’s to run with, and beta-ing this fic into shape! Send her all the love :D - Sequel to Bossy Boots -

When Hashirama specified that Tobirama will eventually ‘revert’ back into an adult, he never included an estimation. There’s a reason for that. It turns out, there are no estimates to when Tobirama will eventually become an adult again. Time moves on, and the small group of people Hashirama trusts to look after Tobirama return to the responsibilities they have to attend to.

Their days off hardly ever coincide. The days where everyone happened to be working, Tobirama had stuck to Madara’s side like a leech. Not going to lie, Madara preened a bit.

There’s something sweet about being chosen by Tobirama, time and time again. Even though Tobirama sometimes chooses to sleep with Hashirama at night.

He thought Hashirama would sulk at the idea, but when Madara strode into the office the next morning with Tobirama in his arms, there was an extra table with a high chair beside his Police Chief desk. Tobirama’s glower is still unparalleled. And Madara is shameless about utilising it for theatrical effect.

Thus began one of the strangest games of hot potato between Konoha’s elite, with small, chubby Tobirama being shuffled between the people who happened to have time off for the day.

Surprisingly, this is the most smiling Madara’s seen Tobirama do in years.

-

“Alright, Hikaku,” says Madara as he flicks a folder across the table. “You’re officially the senior officer in this case. Remember that the trainee is your responsibility. Do well, and there might be a promotion in your future. Flop, and, well–”

Tobirama doesn’t blink. “Say goodbye to your career.”

Hikaku, the poor teenager sitting across from him, actually breaks out a sweat. Madara cackles. Tobirama is unmoved, but Madara can see his lips twitching.

Hikaku basically flies to the door when he’s dismissed. Only then, does Tobirama let himself giggle.

Kagami pokes his head through the door. “Should I inform him that you’re kidding, Shishou?”

“Nah, wait till the afternoon.” Madara looks at Tobirama for confirmation. Tobirama nods in approval. “Fear is a good motivator.”

Tobirama goes back to his scribblings. He’s scribbling with such focused intent with the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration, that curiosity tickles Madara. Slowly, he leans over his desk, trying to take a peek at Tobirama’s drawings.

Tobirama slams his drawings blank-side up.

Madara frowns. “C’mon.”

“No.”

“Can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not ugly.” Tobirama scrunches his nose. “But I can do better. I know I can. It’s just not going the way I want it to.”

“Adult you can do better,” Madara agrees. He’s not known for coddling kids, and it would be a particularly idiot thing to do with a kid as smart as Tobirama. “The you with around twenty years’ worth of extra hand-eye coordination can do better, of course. That skill will come back as this jutsu fades. However, if it makes you feel better, I’m sure your current skills are better than what I can do.”

Ever so helpful, Kagami pokes his head through the door again. “It’s true. Every time Shishou tries to draw, the paper sets itself on fire. It’s a more merciful fate, to be honest.”

“Okay, new rule.” Madara points at Kagami. “Keep opinions to yourself, unless they support my statements.”

That tickles a smile out of Tobirama. “Well,” he says. “I guess if you’re so sure it’s better than Madara’s…”

Being better than him – the usual motivator for most of Tobirama’s actions.

Kagami and Tobirama break off into snickers. Madara levels them with flat stare.

“I’ll be finished when Kagami takes me to lunch,” Tobirama says. “You can flip it over then.”

It’s a good compromise, so Madara agrees.

When lunchtime comes, Tobirama orders to be carried with his customary arms-up. After melting into a puddle (“I can’t believe I’m carrying, sensei!”),  Kagami and Tobirama heads off to fetch his lunch. Madara leans over, and flips the drawing.

His breath hitches.

It’s a drawing of a red and black dragon, curled in the air and breathing fire. It’s a bit more cartoonish than Tobirama’s usual style, but there’s shading in each scale, and the details that differentiate the dragon’s mane.

Guess Madara’s correct about it being better than anything he could produce. Actually, it’s better than anything he could produce with training.

Incidentally, red and black are his favourite colours. He was thinking, just the other day, of how drab his office walls are. Maybe it’s time to decorate a bit.

Madara makes his way to the stationary closet to see if they’ve got some spare frames.

-

Almost two hours later, Kagami strides in carrying a half-comatose Tobirama in a new set of clothes and a bento box. Madara feels his blood pressure rise at least three notches when he spots an Uchiwa sewed on Tobirama’s armband.

“Before you panic,” says Kagami, “this is a food coma. We took a detour to get yakidori, then dango, then a bit of sashimi, and then some rice cakes, and then yakidori again because I underestimated how good it was–”

“Kagami,” Madara interrupts, “do you have any idea how much trouble I will get in for dressing up a prominent Senju member in an Uchiha Police uniform?”

“But sensei insisted on wearing one so he could be part of the team, Shishou,” Kagami emphasises. “Part of the team.”

“Uniforms encourage solidarity,” says Tobirama.

Kagami grins at Tobirama. “Exactly!”

Madara cannot deny that Tobirama looks damn good in Uchiha colours. Still, propriety.

“You should’ve seen what happened when we walked in,” Kagami tells him. “Half of the squad doubled over in pain, like they overdosed on cuteness. The other half is still terrified of sensei, but I can totally feel the morale rising.”

Madara narrows his eyes at Kagami. “We don’t even stock uniforms in a size that small. Did you throw a bunch of our uniforms into the drier?”

Kagami’s face doesn’t twitch. “No comment.”

(Although, in Kagami’s opinion, it’s so worth it.)

Before Madara can groan his frustration, Tobirama’s eyes are drawn to the frame hung on the wall to his left. His eyes brighten. “You like my drawing?” Tobirama asks, half surprised and half sheepish.

Slightly caught off guard, Madara answers, “Of course.”

His eyes crease in a pleased smile. It’s a good thing that Madara’s already sitting down, because his knees feels weak.

Tobirama tilts his head to admire his drawing. “I guess it does look better when it’s framed. You can have your lunch now.”

Squirming, Tobirama slides out of Kagami’s hold, careful not to knock over the bento box. He then tugs the box out of Kagami’s hand and delivers it to Madara, holding it up with a blinding smile that shows how proud he is at such a successful delivery.

Madara is pretty sure Kagami passed out on the spot. Overdosed on cuteness, as he said before. Baby Tobirama is lethal. That smile should really be outlawed, for the sake of Konoha’s constitution.

Accepting the bento box, Madara nods his thanks, and tries his hardest not to follow in his apprentice’s footsteps.

-

Tobirama is slippery at any age. At one point, he went beyond slippery and decided to literally disappear from air by inventing a space-time ninjutsu just to escape from his grasp. It’s debateable, however, if twenty-four year old Tobirama is more slippery than the little child that’s currently leading Izuna on a merry chase across the rooftops of Konoha.

Of course, Tobirama is thinking that this is just one huge game of tag. Izuna is panicking out of his mind.

“Tobirama, come back right now!” he orders. “Don’t you run away from nap time. Get back here and face it like a shinobi! And watch where you’re stepping!”

Ever since child Tobirama became a constant present in their household, they started stocking on caffeine-free green tea, because Tobirama at any age is also a tea and caffeine addict. The sneaky child almost took a sip out of Izuna’s own cup of coffee, but Izuna managed to switch their cups at the last minute. He gave himself a pat on the back at a job well done, and for averting disaster.

Izuna did not realise that he made the tea from the wrong tin.

He regrets making the tea from the wrong tin.

How he’s paying for it now.

Tobirama ignores his yellings, giggling as he zig-zags at impossible speeds. How the hell is he so fast? His legs are literally a quarter of Izuna’s. This is just shameful.

Charging chakra into his feet, Izuna springs into the air. With this much chakra, should be able to land about two steps behind Tobirama–

–only to be jerked back by the back of his collar to meet furious brown eyes.

“Why,” Tōka chews out the words in a way that suggest imminent death, “is my five-year old cousin cartwheeling across dangerous rooftops when he’s supposed to be sleeping?!”

Izuna winces. “I might have…given him the non-kid friendly green tea by accident.”

Tōka is on the verge of shrieking. She grabs his collar with both hands and shakes him with each word.

“You gave my five year old cousin caffeine by accident?!”

“I’m sorry! I made a huge mistake! The caffeine was an accident! And now, he’s so damn slippery! Look at how easily he’s jumping over the roofs. Tobirama’s not a normal kid – he’s already so adept with chakra. The first day he turned, he climbed to the top of Hokage mountain! I was doomed from the start!” Izuna manages between each shake. Although, his head is starting to get woozy. “Please don’t tell Madara.”

“Tobi’s already very active for a five year old! He doesn’t need caffeine to amplify it!”

“But look at how happy he is right now!” Izuna points at the blur of blue and white soaring through the sky. “He’s tiring himself out. I bet he’ll sleep so much better after this.”

Tōka snarls, looking pretty close to ripping his throat out using her bare teeth.

Izuna resigns himself to dying. He’s had a good life. At least he got to die with Toka taking a bite out of him, even though it’s not quite in the way he had wanted it to be.

Evidently, Tobirama realised that Izuna stopped chasing him. He doubles back towards where Toka and Izuna are without them realising. Izuna feels Tobirama tugging on his robe.

To their surprise, Tobirama puts a small hand on Toka’s leg.

“Tag, Tōka-nee!” he says, grinning like crazy. “You’re it!”

A second ticks by. Tōka melts into goo.

“You have to count to ten first because some people,” Tobirama side eyes Izuna, “need all the advantage they can get.”

Izuna squawks in protest.

Stern and solid, Tōka may be, but she is nowhere near invulnerable. Tobirama at five, the first time round, was inquisitive. He used to waddle behind her like a duckling. Tōka was too swamped in her duties to indulge him back then: when she finally earned to luxury to take a breather, Tobirama had long outgrown his habit of following her around.

But this Tobirama – this Tobirama is looking up at her with his huge eyes, and a cheeky grin that makes her feel like she could bench press an entire army. This Tobirama makes her will crumble into debris.

She sighs in defeat and releases Izuna to flop to the ground.  “Alright,” she says. Tōka makes a big show of putting her hands over her eyes and, quite dramatically, takes a huge breath.

Before Tōka could count to one, Tobirama is already fleeing as if the Shinigami is at his heels.

-

It’s not Madara’s turn with Tobirama today, it’s Izuna’s. Yet, his nerves itch away at his concentration.

The silence is his office is stifling.

He taps his fingers in sync with the ticking clock. Then he glances at the empty table beside him, looks at the crayons all in their neat box, before looking at the picture hung on the wall.

It’s silly, Madara thinks. Three days straight with him, and suddenly Madara’s getting separation anxiety.

Madara has no claim to Tobirama, and Tobirama doesn’t belong to him. He might be Tobirama’s favourite, but officially, he’s not Tobirama’s anything.

“It’s silly,” Madara repeats to himself. “You’re being silly. Stop worrying. He’s fine with Izuna – it’s probably his nap time, anyway.”

-

Izuna wishes he was better at de-escalating situations. First it was the great naptime escape, then it was the rooftop tag. Now, he finds himself chasing Tōka and Tobirama through Konoha’s wide, expansive forests in an attempt to supervise their impromptu ‘stroll’.

Their stroll across Konoha’s trees that are substantially taller and more dangerous than any building found in Konoha.

The height would scare any other child, but Tobirama is, as usual, unlike any other child. He’s perched on Tōka’s back, laughing like there’s no tomorrow, impervious to the palpitations of Izuna’s weakened heart.

“I don’t think this is good idea,” yells Izuna, the wind attempting to muffle his voice. “And this is coming from me. You know, the Emperor of Bad Ideas. We should go back and put him to sleep.”

“It’s fine,” Tōka calls out. “He’s using chakra to stick on to me, he’ll tire out soon! Hold on tight, Tobi. We’re going to freefall!”

They jump out of a tree that’s at least twenty metres in height, hollering in delight as they plummet through the air.

Somewhere in the village, Izuna is sure that a civilian mother is collapsing from shock.

-

He knows that something is wrong when Tobirama asks if they could skip work and sit on top of the Hokage mountain for a bit. There’s a weariness to Tobirama’s tone, one that indicates his past experiences are causing some confusing emotions. Helpless to anything that would make Tobirama feel better, Madara agrees.

Madara takes a day off – perks of being in charge – and carries Tobirama up to the mountain. It’s that time in the morning where the sky is a mesh of blue and pink. They sit in silence as they watch the first trail of people blink away their bleariness, the village breathing up to life.

“I dreamt about Itama and Kawarama last night,” Tobirama says. “It was – I don’t know, so vivid. I thought I was back in there with them, but I know they aren’t here–I thought I was–”

Tobirama curls into himself, and the action is so painful, Madara draws Tobirama into a hug. He knows what Tobirama means – how Tobirama thought that he had moved on from his grieving. That the feeling of their past and future lost, and the endless missed opportunities had become more bearable throughout the years. He thought he moved past it, only to have the memories smack the hollowness straight into his gut again.

Tobirama buries his face in his chest and takes a shaky breath.

“I miss them,” he finally says. “I wanted to be the best big brother ever. I wanted to be their favourite. The one they’d go to if they were sad or scared. I promised I’d always protect them.”

Madara just holds Tobirama tighter in his arms, and rests his chin on top of his head.

“I don’t know–I don’t know how to feel. This is–” Madara can feel Tobirama frowning, “–confusing.”

The thought of Tobirama trying to decipher something as complex as feelings makes Madara laugh.

“It gets bearable after a while,” Madara says. “Izuna and I, we do things to make it bearable.”

Sniffling, Tobirama peers up. “Like what?”

“Like singing, old kid’s games, and eating their favourite food. Our youngest sister loved it when Izuna sang. She’d always clap along to Izuna’s lullabies, which completely defeated the purpose of a lullaby, but she was happy. And Izuna’s quite a skilled singer. You might think that Izuna’s a tenor, what with all his undignified shrieking hitting those high notes, but he actually has a very rich, baritone voice.”

“Oh.”  Tobirama shuffles closer. “Do you sing too?”

Madara squeezes the small bundle in his arms. “Not as good as Izuna, sadly. I like to press flowers. Hanabi and Tsurugi liked to collect them and make flower crowns, so I like the preserve the ones I think they’d like. I try to grow my own, but sometimes I don’t have the time. ”

“Can we do that?” asks Tobirama. “Can we have a Kawarama and Itama day–can we have a siblings day?”

Like he said, he’s helpless to anything that makes Tobirama feel better.

“Anything you want,” Madara tells him.

Honestly, Madara’s just straight out helpless to Tobirama.

-

So Madara digs through their attic for their old card games, falling Buddha blocks and spinning tops. Being a hoarder comes with perks, especially when Tobirama’s face lights up when he sees them.

They spend the better part of their morning playing. The plan is to play till lunchtime before going to a barbecue house, since Tobirama said that’s where his family liked to eat when they were younger. Madara sends a messenger off to Tōka, Izuna and Hashirama to – quite politely, in his opinion – clear their lunch schedule under the threat of amputations and fire and pain and suffering. No threats of death this time. No need to defeat the purpose of Siblings’ Day.

An hour before lunch, a knock rings through Madara’s door.

He opens it to find Hashirama smiling sheepishly.

“I heard we’re having a siblings’ day today,” says Hashirama. “I hope I’m not too early.”

His tri-cone hat is nowhere in sight, and he’s out of the Hokage uniform. Dressed in his casual black robes, Hashirama might have done the impossible. Hashirama might have pulled a miracle; Hashirama has found a sudden substitute for the rest of the afternoon.

Truly, his friend never ceases to amaze.

At hearing Hashirama’s voice, Tobirama comes running to the door, halting himself right in front of Hashirama. He schools his face into a blank expression.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to let him in. He is my brother, after all.” Tobirama sniffs, pretending to be unaffected by Hashirama’s sudden appearance.

They’re not fooled, of course. Tobirama already looks a lot brighter than he did this morning.

Tobirama lets Hashirama through the door. Instead of just entering, Hashirama swoops Tobirama off his feet and hugs him tight to his side. Squeezes him like Tobirama’s the only thing that matters to Hashirama right now.

Tobirama doesn’t pull away like he usually does. Instead, he melts.

 - A/N: The Great Sphinx of Giza is about 20m high. Rip to all those who thought that Tōka was a Responsible Adult™. She’s just as weak to kid!Tobi as the rest of us are. Also, I’ve become very enamoured with the idea of a Konoha/B99 spoof.  

I’m basically Madara with drawing so I’ll stick to writing.

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