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#I have a couple more thoughts on how end crystals would look/work in this interpretation but it's not important nor something im attached t
murky-tannin · 11 months
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I'd love to see more designs of qFit with explosions scars, specifically his upper body. While he'd have scars from things as simple as the terrain (for instance I personally headcanon him with scarring on his chin from tripping and falling) the main form of combat in 2b2t is end crystals. Which are extremely powerful and dangerous explosives.
The tactic with end crystals is to protect and block your lower body when the explosion goes off, as you'll take minimal damage. That is a minecraft mechanic, but an in universe explanation could be the explosion of the crystals are mainly horizontal in force? Bound to take out your legs on even ground but less likely for shrapnel or heat to do heavy damage to the upper body (still very risky and it's best to cover your whole body, but not necessarily an instant death sentence)
However you interpret the crystals though, Fit would probably have some intense scarring from them. Whether they be from his own crystals or from others.
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astro-rain · 4 years
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delicate; b. barnes
chapter nine- “to have or not to have indoor plumbing”
delicate masterlist
word count: 2.3k
synopsis: no fallout shelter is perfect. sometimes you need to think outside the box... or outside the bunker, that is.
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
[A/N]: what did you think of this chapter? what do you want to see next? PLS let me know! :))
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Light did not shine through the windows and cast a bronze glow on the floor like it did in the castle quarters. He didn't hear the soft buzz of the cicadas like he usually did in the morning. He didn't wake to an empty room with familiar beautiful Wakandan tapestries.
This was because Bucky Barnes awoke in an underground shelter with no windows, stone reinforced walls, and a sleeping psychologist in the bed next to him. Somehow... this wasn't that bad.
He woke up before her, as to be expected. His body was pretty much programmed to be up in the early morning. That, and any time he slept for too long his mind conjured up remnants of horrors from the past.
The super soldier stood up from the bed and stretched his back and arm. It was quiet. A relaxed, enjoyable quiet. Y/N was still sleeping. He wondered what time it was. He didn't have a watch, and he didn't see any clocks in the bunker. He assumed she probably had her phone, but he wouldn't wake her just to ask the time.
He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the panther key. Perhaps he could go outside for a bit, gauge the time, scope out the area, get some sun. He never was overly enthusiastic about the sun, but since being in Wakanda, he had grown to love the warmth.
Warmth was a welcome change from the brutalizing cold Hydra put in his bones. Cold was past agony and torment, but warmth. Warmth was the rich, golden promise of remedy that gleamed on his skin.
Just thinking about it made him yearn for the outside sun and the way it enveloped his skin in amber rays. It felt safe here.
Usually, he couldn't stop his mind from worrying and expecting all the good in his life to somehow crash down around him. However, he couldn’t help but feel safe in Wakanda, no matter what he did. He felt safe in Wakanda and with Y/N, even though they were in a bunker hiding from a country's takeover-
"Bucky?" A raspy voice called out.
He turned around, not realizing he had walked over to the table, where the panther key was sitting. It looked just as regal and ferocious as it did before.
"G'Morning," he smiled.
She sat up on her elbows, avoiding hitting her head on the top bunk.
"How'd you sleep?" she asked. "Nightmares still?"
"Last night wasn't bad," he shrugged. "Still... there, but I got some decent hours in."
"That's good," Y/N yawned. "I'd like to work more on the nightmares soon. See if we can find any improvement. But don't worry, no 'Interpretation of Dreams' shit because I refuse to dignify most Freudian theories."
He let out a breathy chuckle. Sometimes Y/N would go into what he, in his head, called her silly psychologist speech. She would momentarily forget that Bucky wasn't an academic, and use big words to talk about things he'd never even heard of. Sometimes she would slip into psychologist mode when she wasn't "on duty."
"Are we movin' the sessions out here now?" he joked.
"Damn," she snickered. "My bad. No more psych talk in here, I promise."
"It's alright, I don't mind," he shrugged. "S'just you bein' you."
"I guess. I don't know to be anyone else, so."
“I would expect nothing less of you.”
Y/N then moved the blanket off of her legs to stand up out of the bed, just before stopping short, staring at the bed she was sitting on. He could almost see the gears turning in her head.
"Did I make the bed last night in a frenzy of exhaustion and not remember it?"
He laughed. "No."
She furrowed her brows and cocked her head to the side, confused and waiting for an explanation.
"I made it - well, as best as I could... all things considered."
Her face changed, melting into an endearing look of gratitude.
"Thank you Buck," she smiled. "Way better than sleeping on the floor."
She didn't say anything else regarding it, and he was glad. What she didn't know was that he put her in the bed after he made it. She was so exhausted, he didn't want to wake her. The task proved itself exceptionally challenging with one arm. However, super soldier strength and determination was a worthy advantage.
"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.
"Umm," she dragged out, finally standing up from the bed. "Not sure, I'll have to find my phone and- oh shit"
"What?"
"I don't have a charger."
"Oh. I'll uh look around and see if there's one stored down here."
Y/N stood still and looked around the room. Her eyes landed on the space heater and her expression dropped.
"Bucky..."
"What's wrong?"
"Do you remember what I said yesterday about the heater?"
"Not... really. Jog my memory?"
She quoted herself. "I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."
"Oh yeah," he still wasn't following.
"There's no shower down here... or toilet..."
He looked around and it hit him. "Oh."
"That's..." she trailed off, "a bit inconvenient."
He saw her begin to fidget with her hands.
"What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "We can't like... pee in buckets or something."
Bucky scratched the stubble on his face, about to suggest something he knew she wouldn't like.
"Well, before you woke up, I was thinkin' about going outside to get an idea of the time and maybe get some sun. We can go out and see if we can find a fresh water source or something. It's not perfect, but it's better than buckets."
"Outside? Is that not dangerous?"
"Danger is a possibility, but we're pretty far out from the castle grounds. I doubt anyone comes out this far or even knows about the shelter."
She took a deep breathe in. "I don't know..."
He could hear the uncertainty and weariness in her voice.
"If you're not comfortable, I can just go look and come back, tell you if it's safe, if there's water nearby," he offered.
"No. I'm going with you."
"I thought-"
"You’re not going alone. I'll grab my shoes and we can go."
Well then.
"As you wish, oh wise one."
"Smartass."
He grabbed the panther key and tossed it to her with a smile.
-
"So... how does one locate a water source?" Y/N asked, her footsteps beside Bucky's.
The Wakandan sun beat down on them. They'd only been walking for a few minutes, and they were already sweating.
"Keep an eye out for mud. If the ground is wet, chances are there's water nearby."
She nodded.
"Hey," she smirked, "Have you ever heard of Bear Grylls?"
He could hear the smile in her voice.
"No, but I have a feeling whatever that is is being used to poke fun at me?"
She huffed in a fake gasp, feigning over-exaggerated shock. "I'd never do such a thing!"
"Hey! I'm doing this so we don't have to pee in buckets. A teeny tiny bit of gratitude would go a long way."
"Apologies. Please accept my most heartfelt thanks, my dear old friend."
"Who you callin' old?"
"I don't know, does a hundred seem old to you?"
"You know, it’s disrespectful to mock the elderly,” he fake scolded.
"Yeah, well don't disrespect your mental healthcare provider."
"I didn't! You started-"
"Water!" she shouted, cutting him off. “Look!”
In front of Y/N's pointed finger was the end of a tiny stream. The source was somewhere ahead of them. And so they followed, continuing their trek beneath the sun's sweltering rays. It really was oppressively hot.
-
"Holy..." Bucky muttered.
"Shit," Y/N finished.
He gave her a look and he she shrugged, fighting off a laugh.
They stood facing a beautiful scene: a modest waterfall flowed over mossy stone and poured out into a little pool of crystal clear water. It was quaint and secluded, surrounded by rocks and trees. This was wonderfully fortuitous for the two of them as they were still technically in hiding. The pool of water was relatively shallow; he could see the bottom, but it was still deep enough to submerge his whole body and them some. The pressure from the waterfall looked mild enough to go under; perhaps it could act as a makeshift shower.
"This definitely works. Much better than buckets," Y/N commented.
Then she began to untie her boots, take off her socks, and sit with her feet in the water.
"Holy hell it's hot," she groaned, wiping a hand across her forehead. He noticed that she had been squinting for the last couple of minutes. "Buck, do you know if the water is clean to drink or swim in?"
"Why don't you taste test it? Then we'll know for sure."
She turned her head to him, an emotionless expression on her face.
"I don't give a damn about the super serum, I can and will drown you, Barnes."
A laugh came from deep in his chest. "I'm just playin'. The water looks fine, you should be good."
She cupped her hands to scoop up some of the water and threw it at him.
"Hey!"
"Aw, you look so refreshed now," she cooed sarcastically.
"That was uncalled for."
"Perhaps. Hey, how long until we have to go back?"
"We're not really on a set schedule. Whenever you're ready, I guess. It's not like we have things to do."
"Do I have time to like dunk real quick? It's deathly hot and I don't wanna walk back in this heat."
Dunk in the water? There are no swim suits here...
"Oh-uh... uh y-yeah, do you want me to like... wait over there-or-“
"I’m goin’ in with my clothes on,” she deadpanned. Straight and to the point, like she didn’t want any type of confusion about the situation.
“Oh,” he breathed. “You’d rather walk back in soaked clothes?”
“Yes.”
"I mean sure, knock yourself out. But be careful, some parts look pretty deep."
"I'm know how to swim, Buck,” she smiled. “Don’t fret.”
He hummed an "okay," before looking around the entire waterfall area. Instinctively, he started walking the perimeter, making sure they would be safe. He didn't know how he hadn't done it sooner. He must've been distracted.
The soldier made his way through trees and over rocks until he returned to the spot facing the center of the waterfall pool. He watched as Y/N's head slowly ascended from the water. She opened her eyes, and as her gaze found him, confusion washed over her face.
"Bucky, aren't you hot?"
"I mean, it’s warm, but I think I'm more useful out keepin' watch."
"Are you sure?" she laughed, tossing more water at him.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, clumsily trying to jump and dodge out of the way of the water flinging at him.
Y/N shamelessly continued. "The water's just fine! It's so refreshing and cooooool!"
Bucky's attempts at dodging the water were very much in vain. Soon enough his grey shirt had splatters of Wakandan waterfall water all over it.
He only laughed some more. "Come on! You're comprising our security!"
She stopped.
"Wait- I'm sorry. Am I actually?"
His breathing slowed, but his smile remained. "No, it's okay. I just think it's safer for at least one of us to stay out and be aware. I can go in next time."
"Okay," she frowned.
At the edge of the water, closest to grass, the ground descended into layers, creating a sort of makeshift staircase that sloped into the pool. Y/N floated over to the stairs, and leaned her elbows on the second highest step so that the water settled just below her shoulders. He watched as her legs floated straight up behind her, and each edge of her clothing moved up and down languidly in the water as if they were breathing with its movement.
In response, Bucky sat down at the waters edge, removing his own shoes and socks, rolling up his pant legs and resting his feet in the pool.
"There, now we're meetin' in the middle."
Y/N spared a gentle smile.
"Buck," she asked softly, "can I ask you a question?"
His brows furrowed at the sudden change in tone. "Mm hm."
He was expecting some kind of serious question, but instead, he watched yet another mischievous smirk grow across her face.
"Don't you have to pee?"
He rolled his eyes, and splashed her with as much water as he could cup in his hand. Y/N let out a burst of loud, boisterous laughter, wiping the water from her eyes.
"Why, do you?! Do I have to worry about feeling some warm water!!"
"No! I already went..."
"Oh, ew!" he howled with laughter.
"Not like that! I did it behind a tree while you were makin' your rounds."
"Well thank you for not christening our only clean water source."
"You are quite welcome, James Buchanan Barnes."
His brain slowed at the sound of his full name. He almost didn't feel the barely-there smile that turned the sides of his mouth up ever so slightly. Time became lazy, and his line of sight came to a leisurely stop directly at Y/N's face.
He got a good look at the reflective water droplets all over her skin, and the way some were falling off while others stayed perfectly still. He got a good look at how her waterlogged eye lashes stuck together in bigger clumps, making darker shades of black that contrasted her eye color, and how her wet hair was slicked back and flowed down her neck. He got a good look at the teeny tiny drops of waterfall that settled in her eyebrows, and how he had only been this close to her very few times before.
He couldn't tell why, but he wanted to take a mental snapshot of this moment. The charming imperfection of her was so genuine, so endearing, so alluring. He found himself having a hard time finding the motivation to look away. He must be tired or something.
He hadn’t noticed how still she was as well. But then, gradually, her smile went away, and her face was replaced with a neutral but poised expression. She slowly floated back from him, putting space between them.
"Can we go back now?" she asked. "I think the sun is giving me a headache."
"Y-Yeah, 'fcourse," he said, unprepared to do anything but fulfill her request.
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dailylogyn · 3 years
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Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the Marvel Comics
Photo Source (by Sexy-Salmon): https://lokisergi.tumblr.com/post/70164902295/siege-loki-problems-it-almost-looks-innocent
Other Logyn Meta’s: https://dailylogyn.tumblr.com/tagged/logyn-meta
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Did you know Sigyn was in the Marvel Comics long ago? Did you know Loki had a wife? 
Oh...that’s probably because Marvel wanted you to forget their terrible writing mistakes concerning this great Norse Couple. 
Let’s dive into this exploration of history where the Marvel writers realized they fucked up on telling a perfectly good couples story, and in the process, setting off a spark of rebellion that caused some retconning and a group of fans to demand justice for both Loki & Sigyn -- not just as a couple, but as their own individual beings. 
#JusticeforSigyn #JusticeforLoki #JusticeforLogyn
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Where it First Began (Meeting & Marriage of Lies):
In September of 1978, Thor #275 came out featuring the first appearance of Sigyn, Loki’s wife from Norse Mythology. She was introduced as a beautiful Asgardian Loki had randomly come across while looking into a crystal ball inside his castle, wanting to find some companionship to fill his loneliness. 
However, when Loki came with riches and jewels to offer her in exchange for her hand in marriage, Sigyn outright rejected him, stating she would never take someone as vile as him, even stating she was already engaged to an Asgardian Warrior part of Odin’s guard -- Theoric. 
Unable to accept this, Loki came up with a plan to have her fiancee killed during a mission, resulting in the Trickster taking on the disguise of Theoric in order to take Sigyn for his own. Despite having slightly suspicions of her lover being more romantic than before, Sigyn didn't notice that her lover wasn’t exactly who she thought he was.
Now comes the day of the wedding as Odin marries the happy couple. This was when Loki finally revealed his true self and what he had done. Odin tried to null the marriage, but it was against Asgardian law for even the High Father to do such a thing. Hence, Sigyn accepted her fate as Loki’s wife. This caused Odin to name her the Goddess of Fidelity. 
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Where it’s Heading (Cargo of Incantation-Fetter’s Arms):
Loki being Loki, he did some shit that ended up with him being imprisoned in a tree by Odin, something that infuriated Sigyn, resulting in her trying to take control over Donald Blake to use over the All-Father as a way to free her husband from his punishment. However, it didn’t work out, resulting in a bunch of other crazy shit happening and putting Thor on their trail.
After Balder was killed, Loki was put on trials for his crimes and received yet another punishment that Sigyn had to protect him from -- having burden over the fact she was “the evil’s wife.” Just like the classic Norse tale, she holds a bowl over his head, shielding him from snake venom and leaving to empty it momentarily when it became full, resulting in Loki cursing her. 
Also, Loki and Sigyn had a child -- Narvi, but they died young, being used as the binding to imprison Loki (following the Norse myth too.) 
Some more crazy shit happens and now Odin has shackled Loki to Sigyn so he doesn’t cause anymore trouble. Loki of course is not pleased about this one bit. Having had enough of this, he went to Odin demanding to be released, only resulting in him being banished to an outpost. 
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There Just Might be Hope????:
Some more shit happens again, resulting in Loki being stuck in an astral form and bound to a suit of armor so he could reside in Asgard thanks to Sigyn. A fight happens with Thor, Loki and Mephisto, putting Sigyn in danger. This is when for the first time ever, Loki ends up having a tender confession of love over Sigyn, asking Thor to save her since he could not.
It’s unknown if this is just Loki putting on an act or being real, but you know how the Trickster God can be. 
After the battle, while Loki had released Sigyn from her marital vows, his wife swore to always be there for him when he needed her.
And that’s the last we see of Sigyn’s regular appearance in the comics in 1996. She makes a cameo in Avengers: Unleashed #1 in 2019, but it’s nothing more than a flashback to her time of helping Loki. 
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A Hypothesis & Notes on their relationship in comics:
The whole entire plotline consisting of Theoric and Loki killing him in order to obtain Sigyn is just something most of the fandom doesn’t like. Not only does it objectify Sigyn, but it makes Theoric a Pointless character to introduce anyway, only used as a tool for means in which Loki can get Sigyn, when honestly, he could have done so in a different way.
I like that they stick with Sigyn being the faithful wife of Loki (that’s who she is), but they honestly don’t give her any agency in this besides that trait alone. The writers don’t even let Sigyn be her own damn person! She is SO MUCH MORE than Loki’s loyal wife. SHE IS A FREAKIN GODDESS! I know there is more we can do with her.
Instead of pulling the ‘woe is me, my husband is evil and I’ll just go along with it’ card, something else could have been done. LIKE LITERALLY, ANYTHING ELSE! We know Loki can be a troublemaker, but Sigyn knows how to deal with his shit. She isn’t some damsel in distress here! It’s another reason Loki likes her.
Couples can bicker in times, it’s normal in marriages and relationships, but to have Loki whining about how much of a burden Sigyn is is just....WHY? I mean, you went after the woman and killed another guy for her. This is what you wanted! *shakes head at writers*
I will give them kudos though for some of the stuff near the end when Loki actually starts displaying his true feelings of love towards Sigyn. And sadly we only got a little taste of that...and we aren’t even sure if it was an act or Loki being real.
THE FACT THAT SIGYN ISN’T EVEN IN THE COMICS ANYMORE SINCE 1996. She’s only mentioned, but it’s just as a tale, not as an actual person who USED to be his wife. They literally killed her off. EXCUSE ME! #JusticeforSigyn (We’re still waiting for her in the MCU...)
NORSE MYTHOLOGY TIE-INS:
There were some moments in the comics between them that they writers took from Norse Mythology with them. Thought It’d be important to list.
Loki’s Punishment of snake venom dripping onto him while Sigyn holds a bowl to collect it and shield him.
Narvi being Loki & Sigyn’s son who was killed and his insides used to bind Loki for his punishment.
Sigyn being Loki’s wife. 
DIFFERENT WRITERS, DIFFERENT CHARACTERIZATION:
As is the case with everything out there, if you have different writers working on the same project, there is bound to be a difference of characterization and interpretation, resulting in OOC moments or just something completely different altogether. After researching and pondering on this subject, I FULLY believe this is what has happened with Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the comics. Let’s take a look at the evidence I’ve found:
For the comics Sigyn’s creators were Roy Thomas, John Buscema and Tom Palmer. 
Loki’s creators for the comics were Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Violet Barclay, and honestly, many others.  
My favorite quotes on them from the comics:
Wait? Despite the crappy writing, I actually have quotes I like from the comics? GASP! I call these the only positives from the comics of their relationship. 
“My Sigyn-- the love of my immortal life...” — Loki, Thor Annual Vol 1 #19
“Aye-- For only Sigyn, of all in the realm eternal, feels love for Loki. And among all Asgardians, only for Sigyn does Loki feel...” — Loki, Thor Annual #19
“Sigyn loves me-- just as she is the only thing in the nine worlds that I truly love.”— Loki, Thor #483
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Photo Source: https://www.zerochan.net/1262293#full
Fandoms Wish for MCU & Future Appearance Justice:
Fans would like to see Sigyn make an appearance, not only in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), but also the Marvel Comics once again. They would like to see Loki & Sigyn’s characters done justice with proper writing, especially regarding their relationship with each other. 
This is why there is plenty of fans out there writing Fanfiction, making Fanart, Roleplaying and even Cosplaying them, giving their interpretation’s of what their relationship would be like. This is THE VERY REASON this blog and @sigynappreciation​ was created to help spread awareness and unite fans who feel the same way. 
These characters are very near and dear to our hearts. Some of us even worship them in our religions. We would like to see their relationship grow and portrayed in a way that helps fill the pieces of the missing puzzle to how they came to be in Norse Mythology. 
CONCLUSION:
Although their relationship in the comics usually leaves fans grimacing, at least we got to have it explored. Who knows if Marvel will ever touch anything with them ever again, but at least it’s brought together a small community that continues to go strong -- and honestly, that kind of unity is what Loki & Sigyn would want. 
So imagine to your hearts content! Draw that fanart! Write those fanfictions! Dress up in that cosplay! Be those characters! But just remember, you have a family here to love and support you. 
SOURCES:
Sigyn’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)
Loki’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)
Sigyn on Marvel Universe: http://www.marvunapp.com/Appendix/sigynthor.htm
Logyn on the Shipping Wiki: https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Logyn
Loki & Sigyn’s relationship through Media: https://www.alehorn.com/blogs/blog/norse-mythology-loki-and-sigyn
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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years
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Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)
🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉
Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.
@wltz-bby​ @mandy23b​ @happyskywhale​ @missunsympathetic​
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Author’s Note:  Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for. 
So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.
Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising​ Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!
Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip
Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.
Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”
Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....
Words: 17,100
Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut. 
_____
He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee  There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too
---
He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.
Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it.  Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…
***
 Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.
You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this?  Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same.  Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!
Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.
It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.
You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.
Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…
Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.
Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.
You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.
By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?
It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.
You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.
Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.
Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”
Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.
You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.
Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.
As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’
You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)
You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.
That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.
You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.
You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun.   Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’
You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”
Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.
Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.
Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.
You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.
You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.
“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.
Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.
“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.
“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.
Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”
If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”
“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.
You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”
You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.
“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”
You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.
Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?
His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.
 Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.
He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.
You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.
Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”
---
Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!? 
I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys! 
Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜
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sukiglycerin · 4 years
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starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.
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* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)
* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY
* words: 5.2k, somehow
* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve
* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)
* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.
* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.
love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story. 
alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool. 
like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust. 
you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you. 
the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.
“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.
“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”
“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”
your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera. 
“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”
“how- how long?” your voice shook.
he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.
a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.
“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.
“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”
“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.
packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway. 
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you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?
the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it. 
red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.
“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you. 
“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you. 
he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”
“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.
“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”
“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented. 
“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.
“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”
“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”
“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”
“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”
“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.” 
“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?
he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks. 
"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense." 
you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied. 
he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."
"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings. 
"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"
 "'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent. 
once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.
after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together. 
he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”
“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.
he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”
you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”
“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”
“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.
“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face. 
“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him. 
hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe. 
you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”
“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”
“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”
“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”
“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong? 
you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently. 
“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”
“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.
“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.” 
“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”
he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”
“uh… orange juice,” you said. 
“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear. 
he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you. 
“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well. 
“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”
“y/n,” you said.
“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”
“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”
“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”
“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.
he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?” 
you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.
“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”
you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”
“how long?”
“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.
“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”
“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever. 
“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”
“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”
“you still love him, don’t you?”
“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”
“i’m sorry, dove,” he said. 
“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.
“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”
you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window. 
“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.
hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back? 
you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort. 
“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.
“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”
the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.
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walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.
“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.
it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.
“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets. 
“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.
“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”
“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”
“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.
“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”
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forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree. 
“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster. 
he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”
you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator. 
you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.
after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back. 
“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”
you nodded. “it’s amazing...” 
“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you. 
“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”
he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”
“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”
he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”
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the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you. 
“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important. 
“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.
“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”
you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand. 
“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand. 
“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”
that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.
“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.
you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love? 
you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you. 
even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.
what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.
hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.
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your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.
you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.
you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.
“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.
“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.
“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.
“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.
“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.
“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”
“alone?”
“i could never alone.”
“who…?”
“met a pro-hero by chance.”
“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.
“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.
he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”
your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you. 
it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class. 
and then it was all gone, shutting the box.
“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.
bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away. 
“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.
“yeah.” cold. emotionless.
you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”
“bye.”
your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.
you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.
“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.
“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.
“hey, birdie? are you okay?”
“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.” 
“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”
you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”
“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.
“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.
“what floor are you on, dove?”
“third,” you hiccupped. 
“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’
you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.
“well, tomura? i did it.”
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230 notes · View notes
itsmyara · 3 years
Text
Playing Cards (SFW Fanfic)
Pairing: Chrollo/Machi (yep!)
Word Count: 1.7 k
Warning: Hisoka acting psycho.
Note: I've recently talked about Kuromachi with @takkarulz and it reminded me of this VERY old fic. It was supposed to be the first chapter of a story about Hisoka's first mission with the Troupe but I don't think I'm gonna continue it. Oh, and it was originally written in Portuguese, so maybe something got lost in translation. I hope not but sorry if it did!
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The prey was aware of the bloodlust that emanated from his pores. Hisoka was bored when he felt that random aura and left in pursuit. Granted, it wasn’t a strong aura, but the relative abstinence made him lower his criteria. Any less-than-a-minute fight would offer some relief. The prey was already running ahead, looking back at him now and then in despair. He was sweating, breathing heavily, tripping over his own feet. It was a shame. Even so, the predator felt that in that aura there was an impulse to try to fight back, a courage that could spring from adrenaline and give him some precious extra time to live.
He focused entirely on instilling fear in him, as a favor to awaken that trace of hidden strength, and as a favor for his own sadism.
Fear and death roamed the desolate streets at night, accompanied only by concrete walls, garbage cans overturned by mangy dogs, and abandoned souls, drunken and empty, who wouldn’t dare to approach the source of that terrifying bloodlust.
Hisoka's expression was already inhuman.
The victim turned a corner, looked around, started to run faster. Perhaps he was close to home and struggled to reach it, with that false feeling that at home he would be safe. Poor fool. The predator licked his lips, he wouldn’t allow the prey to gain distance from him. In fact, he didn’t intend to let him free for too long.
Thirsty for action, Hisoka dashed and jumped to reach him faster but when he was in mid-air, something stopped his body, suspending it far from the ground, and a third presence was revealed. A woman fell gracefully in front of him and as soon as her feet touched the ground, her hands pulled a thread, making him realize that the trap had tightened around his body.
The pink-haired woman boldly stepped between him and his victim, and when she looked up and glared at him, her blue eyes were unfazed by his bloodlust. The victim stopped for a moment to try to understand what had happened, but he wasn't stupid enough to stay.
Soon it was only he and her.
Hisoka smiled and sought a comfortable position within her trap. It was worth exchanging the weak prey for that woman who either mastered zetsu very well or knew how to take advantage of his distraction to catch him. Either way, she was incomparably stronger.
“Well, well... and who are you?” His voice sounded mischievous as his eyes sparkled, studying her carefully.
She kept him in her threads without difficulty, as they crossed the deserted street trapped to the side of two buildings, forming a web that closed around him in the center. A spider web. She was skilled and agile to prepare that engineering in such a short time. Besides this, she also had that delightful demeanor. So under control. So cold. So full of an unshakable self-confidence. It wasn’t someone to be thrown away. Maybe he would keep her to play with, little by little, instead of killing her at once.
“I have a message from the boss,” when she said those words, Hisoka understood and closed his eyes. He definitely would have to save her for later. “Midnight at the sanctuary of St. Levi. If you’re too busy hunting mice, you will suffer the consequences.”
A crooked smile grew on the magician's face. Suffering the consequences was what he wanted the most, but not in the way they used to apply them.
“Will the boss be there?” He asked, but his question was ignored.
“I think you can get out of there alone.”
It was the last thing she said before disappearing into the night.
There was a possibility that Chrollo would attend the meeting, but there was also the possibility that it would end up being just another spiders’ meeting that would kill him with boredom at once. He had recently joined the Phantom Troupe for a single purpose, and so far he had successfully avoided childish robberies and meaningless missions, no matter who showed up to try to intimidate him.
An Ace of Hearts took shape between his fingers and he used it to slash the tangled threads that held him. To his surprise, not all of them broke on the first blow, demanding one or two more hits for him to break free completely.
He thought that maybe this time it would be worth it to show up at the meeting if she were there.
***
Their current hideout was a mansion away from the city and with a reputation for being haunted. The abandonment of the building made it cold and fragile, but there was a certain beauty in all those aged memories left by the corners, and in the way nature was taking over the place little by little. In a few years, the creeping plants will probably take it over completely.
Machi entered through the backdoor absolutely quietly, just in case. Soon she realized that there was someone in the basement and she walked down the stairs, equally silent, to find Chrollo sitting on an old wooden chest. By candlelight, he analyzed something on a table in front of him.
“Fascinating... whoever lived here, was someone impressive. It is not by chance that this house has a reputation for being haunted,” he whispered when she approached but kept his gray eyes fixed on the objects spread on the table.
In that room, Machi noticed opaque crystals, rusty metal objects that were supposed to serve very specific uses, animal skulls with horns, and some books so old and yellow that she thought they would turn to dust if she looked at them for too long. She stood next to the boss and realized that what captured his attention were cards, similar to a playing deck, but more numerous and richly illustrated even though -- like everything in that basement -- they were in dull colors.
“Did these objects serve any ritualistic purpose? They must be flooded with nen,” the energy of the place was somewhat obscure, and she thought that maybe this is why he felt comfortable there.
“I haven’t found any trace of nen in this basement,” he said, causing a brief expression of surprise in her. Fascinating, really.
Chrollo finally looked at her, his expression calm and pleasant. His eyes were more mysterious and dark than the energy of the place. By far more fascinating. Eyes that caused her the same feeling, again and again, after so many years.
Perhaps because she was so close that he could feel that commotion inside of her, or perhaps because he was feeling comfortable in that environment, he placed one hand on her waist, while the other held some cards.
“Sit here with me, as we used to do when I read to you,” he said, invoking the past and leading her gently so that she sat on his right thigh.
The memory stirred the feelings inside her even more. She was so young when she found him, a beautiful, intelligent and kind boy, as young as she was, who talked to her, played with her, and cared for her. Chrollo was always different from everyone else. He had ended up awakening in her still innocent heart that dream that he was a prince charming and that they would marry someday, even marriage being such an abstract concept in Meteor City. It turned out that the commitment she had made to him was far greater than that of a marriage.
Enjoying the moment, she rested her arm around his shoulders and studied the cards ahead more closely now.
“Are these tarot cards?” She asked, vaguely recognizing a couple of drawings.
“Yes, it’s the most valuable thing I’ve found here. The style is so unique, each card is a work of art by itself.”
Her eyes met an Arcana and she leaned over to pick it up, almost instinctively. The Fool, with his extravagant clothes and gestures, looking at the horizon from the edge of the abyss, projecting himself to it with nothing to hold him back -- from the infinite fall or from the flight to the horizon. Her intuition led her to believe it would be the first option.
“How was it with him?” Chrollo asked, noticing the card she was looking at so attentively.
“He's strong, I ended up having to set a trap with more aura than I've expected,” she replied almost automatically, only managing to return the card at the end of the sentence.
“He wouldn't have listened to you any other way.”
"No," she confirmed, and then they looked at each other. “The decision is yours, danchou, but I wouldn’t trust him.”
“This is why you didn't bring him here. You’ve decided to wait until tomorrow.”
Chrollo hadn’t told her to take Hisoka to him, he had left the option in the hands of her interpretation. Since the magician was one of them, he belonged -- in theory -- to that place with them, and it would have been natural for her to invite him. But it wasn’t.
Machi knew that sometimes Chrollo let her interpret his orders because he trusted her judgment. And in addition to not having taken him to the boss, she also left promptly so as not to be followed.
“You have been more receptive to new members before,” he said softly.
And the fact that he pulled her to him gently to place a kiss on her temple softened his speech even more.
“Sorry, he seemed to have a special interest in you,” she spoke in a slightly serious tone. Intuition. Concern.
Something that made him snicker as his free hand touched her hair.
“Don’t worry too much, Machi.”
That was the end of the subject brought up by the card. Soon he would touch her thigh and his hand would roam her body. Soon he would show her how comfortable he felt, to the point of allowing himself to enjoy the tenderness that Machi dedicated to him right from her lips, her skin, and her embrace.
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shleepys · 4 years
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AYYYY I hope you all were safe over the holidays and continue to stay safe over these next few months! Right now my state is dealing with record high covid numbers and a bunch of snow, might be different for you guys but hey, even though we're kicking off the start of a new year we still have to be aware of what's been going on and continue to push through it. But yeah!
We can finally reveal for the @harringroveholidayexchange, so I hope you enjoy what I made for the amazing @catharrington! I don't know how everyone else is formatting theirs if they did fic and art but I'm going to put both here! 💕
- - - - -
Overlooked
prompt! - I’ve always loved the differences in the two boys while growing up, I imagine Steve having huge Christmas parties with champagne flutes and the works and Billy being invited and happy to spend time with Steve, he really is!, it’s just a lot he isn’t used to. All up to author interpretations: make as fluffy or angsty as you want ;)
summary! - Steve forgets they were supposed to hang out elsewhere while his parents threw their annual Christmas party and agrees to stay.
Luckily, Billy doesn’t mind!
The only problem is, they don’t get to hang out... and Billy starts to feel overlooked.
- - - - -
Billy couldn’t be more out of place.
Parties were his thing, don’t get that wrong. He could get drunk, smoke, fuck, do whatever and if Steve was with him, only then it was infinitely better. 
But this wasn’t a party. Not the party he knew. It felt more like a corporate gathering or a birthday for someone he didn’t know and he only ended up on the list because his boyfriend’s involved. Which wouldn’t be a problem if everyone around him wasn’t two to three times his age and he actually got to hang out with said boyfriend. 
But it’s fine. It’s been fine so far.
Crystal champagne flutes and ugly holiday sweaters just aren’t necessarily Billy’s forte. He can’t fathom how much Steve’s parents spent on this party alone and can only bet that it cost more than the monthly payment for the house on Cherry Road. Not that he has much resentment towards what Steve’s parents do with their money but it just seems… unnecessary. 
He takes a sip from his flute, rustling the jacket resting on his lap before leaning further into the sofa to try and wait this out despite already being here for what seems like hours. Billy gradually looks up again and stares into the other room where he can see Steve and his parents.
He can’t see their faces, but he can see Steve’s. Their backs are turned to him - Steve’s off to the side - they’re merely silhouettes so he can’t tell if his parents are just being gregarious or snobby. Then again, neither of them really talk about their parents so Billy has no clue.
Billy watches as a couple leaves, the discomfort continues to overrule Steve’s face as suddenly another appears and the cycle starts over again for what seems about the hundredth time. He huffs, kicking the shagged carpet beneath him before lowly cursing himself out. Should he have reminded him what they were going to do tonight? Or would Steve have rather stayed here? 
He can’t tell whether or not Steve’s just over some of the pretentious attitudes and comments he’s overheard in the past hour or that he’s trying to break the chain and get over to him so they can do something together. He could always get drunk and wait for Steve to get done, he knows where the brunette keeps a bottle of scotch that he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet in the office. 
He blinks, lips sucked in to form a seal as he thinks. “Should I go home?” Billy whispers, soft and hurt. There’s not really a point in staying and maybe he can see if Jonathan has anything new to smoke. Deep, contemplative breath.
Billy stands up and discards his glass on the side table next to him before throwing on his coat and grabbing his scarf. Everything from then to going outside flashed by like a blur, nothing of importance really stricken in his mind other than colored sweaters and the sheen of champagne glasses hitting his eye. His breath is almost heavy as he opens the door and a wave of ice rushes over him. It bites at his nose, almost makes him want to itch it but he ventures out regardless. Billy slowly closes it behind him.
Billy sighed softly, eyes falling to the ground. It’s been snowing all day. Coming and going with the wind and dusting every road, house, and tree with freckles of white. Granted, everything was coated before it got too dark and hopefully, the roads weren’t iced over for any of the poor drunks inside. Steam rolled from his mouth as he exhaled before taking a deep breath. Billy threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked out where his car should be, a somber smile passing his lips but twisting into a frown. Steve told him he could park where his family parks.
His feet felt like they were superglued to the deck, that, or like boulders had been tied to the ends of them. Billy bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with his coat pockets, sort of kicked the snow from under him.
He swallowed hastily, a lump bouncing in his throat as he looked out again. Couldn’t pinpoint the emotion to anything else but a pang of burning guilt. Maybe he should have just gone up to him, shouldn’t have made a big deal out of feeling left out, taken him away from his parents so they could go upstairs or leave.
Someone jerked open the sliding doors. Light poured from the inside, Billy twisted around to identify the backlit figure expecting a drunk only to find a breathless, seemingly worried Steve. Billy wanted to furrow his brows and walk off into the snow where he knew damn well Steve wouldn’t go into with house shoes on, but for some reason, he stayed put. Watches as Steve shuts the door behind him and rubs at his arm.
“What are you doing out here?”
Billy doesn’t respond.
Steve seems to catch on, and their eyes lock. 
There have been times when Billy goes outside during a party to catch his breath, maybe sneak around back to talk to Steve about one thing or another, maybe drunkenly make out and hope no one was watching or Tommy had their back. But they hadn’t been to a party for a long while, not since September. And, Billy doesn’t just bring his car keys with him to ‘catch his breath’.
Billy broke contact with a sharp ‘huh’. “Did you forget about me?"
“What? No! Why would you think that?” Steve shuddered, pulling his hands into his sleeves.
Billy looked back up with dagger-like eyes, “Because it seems an awfully lot like you did.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
He could bite back, the very opportunity hanging in front of his nose. But he didn’t. Instead, a familiar quiver caught his lip. Lingering feelings creeping up and forcing his hand to itch at his pocket. Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the ground. 
Steve frowned, aware of the events to follow. He’s known the other long enough to recognize the outline of Marlboros in any pocket. Deep down wishes there was some other habit Billy bid in, but that’s a matter of discussion that needs to be saved for later.
Eventually, the pack came out. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Billy, his lighter flaring until the end emitted a pale red before shakily tucking it away. He shook his head again slow and somber like. 
“I’m sorry.” Billy started, hands moving along with his words. “And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. You’re just,” he sighed, “busy.”
Steve’s lips sealed tightly at the comment. He saw the discomfort present in the other’s sentences, could feel guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. Thing is Steve wasn’t the slightest bit spiteful, he was pissed at himself for not taking action to check up on the other. Not considering bringing another friend with them in case something like this happened. He’s upset because they were supposed to do something together tonight besides this but he forgot and agreed to be here. Steve watched him take a drag, self-spite running through his veins. 
The corners of Steve’s eyes pinched, his throat tightening as he spoke, “No, I’m sorry! This sucks, this whole thing has sucked. I stressed myself out over decorating for the party and was so excited to hang out! I didn’t mean to agree but I forgot! And mom and dad keep introducing me to people. I- I wanted to spend time with you! I didn’t want to be here!” Steve took a step forward before shaky inhale. “This is my fault, this shouldn’t have happened.”
The next few seconds were the two boys staring at one another, each waiting on the other to say something. Billy was at a loss. Steve had a million thoughts streaming through his mind, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t just turn away and leave. 
Eventually, Billy glanced at the door, peering through to check if the blinds were shut as a faint smile appeared. Billy’s lips pressed against Steve’s before he could protest, his hand meeting to cup the brunette’s jaw and brush over the apple of his cheek with his calloused thumb and cigarette in the other. Steve’s tears wetted his cheeks, he didn’t mind it all that much. The shock melted into comfort as Steve cherished the kiss, pouted when Billy slowly pulled away from him. The slight tinge of champagne lingering on the other’s lips, the heat of their bodies giving them a little warmth.
Billy craned his head - albeit Steve was taller - until their foreheads met. 
“Don’t apologize. I get it.” Billy whispered. Steve gave a small, dismissive ‘huff’.
“My boyfriend should come before a stupid party. I should have told them otherwise.” 
Billy shook his head. “The party’s nice. You beat yourself up too much over this kind of stuff, I forget things too. Remember the creek?” 
Steve giggled, lips twisting into a smile. “In July when you were supposed to meet me there and didn’t show up? And I stayed there all night?”
Billy frowned as he thought into it, the bitter call at one in the morning that turned into a week of not talking to one another. It ended nicely though - if ‘nice’ was drunk car sex in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t much of an apology there but hey, they’re still trying to work on things and figure out how exactly relationships work because they aren’t exactly a sixty-year-old couple with forty years of experience behind the boy’s backs.
“I still owe you for that. Sorry.” His eyes fell to the deck as he pulled his head away, bumping his cigarette against his finger and watching the ash fall.
After Steve noticed the shift he got quiet, frowned, and eyes followed Billy’s to the wooden boards below. “Don’t apologize,” Steve echoed with a light smile. Gently Steve grabbed Billy’s scarf and drew him in for a slower, deeper kiss. 
People forget things, that’s human nature. And sometimes they can be a bit dumb about it too. But this was going to be the boy’s first Christmas, granted it wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but it was important to them both. Spending time with a significant other on a holiday was amazing even if they can’t shout it out to everyone they know. 
These moments always have a sort of energy to them. When the boys share a wordless amalgamation of self-deprecating thoughts after ‘messing something up’ and those little habits come out to bite to express those thoughts oh so clearly.  It’s a ball of weird energy that shines in self-hate that the two have been working to eliminate and hey, they’ve gotten pretty far! But, it’s still there. Smiling in the corner of the boy’s minds. Ready to strike at any moment. It’s just a lot smaller now. 
Because again, don’t have the forty years and that’s perfectly valid even if the two don’t seem to realize it.
Billy leaned into the sweet kiss before Steve drew back. Billy chuckled and wrapped his arms around the other as he tucked his face into Steve’s neck. Steve shook again, this time cuddling up to the other and ravishing in the heat and short breaths coming out of them both.
“I wanna go inside,” Steve mumbled, rubbing at the other’s back.
Billy laughed and slowly pulled away to look at Steve. “Too cold?” 
“I’m in a sweater and sweatpants,” Steve pulled on his scarf again and toyed with the frayed ends. The grin Billy responded with brimmed with bliss, his hand roaming up and held the other’s with a firm hold,
“I’ll meet you inside.”
Steve had ventured back into the party while Billy snuffed his cigarette into the deck, eventually, the two found one another next to the food Steve’s parents had catered instead of cooking this year. Only thing that wasn’t in foil baking trays was the Christmas cookies that Billy had been dying to try ever since Steve brought them up at the beginning of December. Drinks clattered in group cheers from the surrounding areas, the smooth music now bearable. He never expected that a party this foreign to him would turn out for the better. Never thought he would feel… like a part of it? The crystal flutes, richies, and overall appeal still don’t rock with him, but with Steve, he has someone there for him. And that’s all Billy could ever ask for.
Thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was going to projectile vomit champagne anymore… the nausea sort of faded after Steve kissed him outside. Billy turned to Steve, noting the rosy shade still dancing on the apples of his cheeks from outside.
“Your sweater isn’t that ugly,” Billy emphasized, chewing on an ornament-shaped cookie.
Steve shook his head with an amused sigh, sweeping the crumbs from his shirt. “This isn’t that kind of party, if it was I would’ve had you help me make one.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t think Karen from Fiance got the memo.” Billy pointed into the crowd at the woman in question. Her sweater took the cake for one of the ugliest, tensile hangs from her torso, lights strung all over, buttons on the brink of falling off. “You think she beats her kids over the head with a bible?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy smirked at the little glare he’d received. “You should have pulled out your grandmother’s cat vests.” 
Steve gagged, eyes wide and ridden with disgust. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me throw up. I never want to see those again.” Billy snorts and Steve shoves him with a laugh, “It’s not funny!”
“But you’re laughing!” Billy remarks and lightly bumps him back returning the bubbling laughter.
A woman seems to overhear their laughs and spins around with the biggest and brightest grin Billy’s ever seen. It kind of startled him. Doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t care to know until he recognizes the cat vest and how familiar those brown, round doe eyes are. She runs up to them, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approaches with a drink in hand. Mrs. Harrington gasped, grabbing onto Steve’s sweater with eyes darting between both boys, “Is this Billy?”
Steve smirks and rolls his eyes again. “Hi, Mom. I’m back Mom.” She lightly wacks him in the arm. “Yes! This is Billy.”
Her eyes lit up, dazzled with happiness as she stuck her attention on the blonde as he snuck another cookie in his mouth. “Steve talks about you all the time!”
“What? No, I don’t!” Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to defend himself but deep down knew there was no hope, especially after Billy gave him that smug but appreciative little look as his mom went on her story-telling rampage. 
Billy laughs, almost in disbelief, “Really?”
“He talks about all of his friends, really. But, oh! When it comes to you he goes on and on and on, he really thinks you’re something.” Billy watched as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted themselves red and smirked. An interesting conversation for later. “I’m so upset that I haven’t been able to meet you until now! You two are always out or asleep by the time I get home.”
Billy’s brows quirked in an expression of sarcasm. “Well, thank you for not waking me up at two in the morning to introduce yourself.”
Mrs. Harrington chuckled, shaking her head before putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get another drink. Oh, and Billy!” She paused and made eye contact, “If you want to come over for Christmas, you’re more than welcome too! Just tell Steve so I know.”
Billy’s brows flew upwards, blush rising and Steve picking it up instantly. She waved goodbye before walking around them and going off on her journey into another room. The boys stared again, each waiting on the other to say something until the brunette spoke up.
"She likes you," Steve muttered, ears still red as ever.
"You talk about me to her? I think that's cute."
He huffed. Had to stop himself from leaning against the other to hide his face. "Mom likes knowing what friends are up to."
Billy loosely smiled, slowly bumping into Steve with his hip before getting a light bump back. “You look a lot like her.” Steve shook his head.
“Not as much as my dad,” Steve turned to see if he was there and frowned when he didn’t see the other but slowly faded into a smile. “I don’t know where he is, he would have loved to meet you.”
The boys got quiet again.
Billy cleared his throat, his head tilted down as if to duck away to hide his blush and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “About coming over for Christmas-” 
“I want you to.” He softly tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Eventually, Billy made eye contact, grinned with a chuckle following behind. Christmas with Steve? His caring boyfriend, twenty million cookies, a few possible presents, and… some loving parents? 
Billy couldn’t be happier.
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notveryglittery · 4 years
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birthday prince (3)
summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!
part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3
— — —
“Best two out of three.”
“I thought this was a birthday gift!”
“Yes and?”
“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”
“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”
“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”
“On shoot.”
One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.
Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.
Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.
Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.
“You good with Hercules?”
“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”
“Phil is not a sidekick!”
“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”
“No! I mean. Maybe?”
Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”
“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”
“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.
As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.
Apparently, however, Virgil had.
Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.
With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.
“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”
“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”
“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”
Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.
“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”
“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”
“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”
Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”
Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”
“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”
“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”
“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”
It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.
“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.
“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.
“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”
Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”
“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”
Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”
“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”
“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.
“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”
“It’s fine—”
“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”
Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.
“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”
If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.
Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”
He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.
When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.
When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.
“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”
“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.
This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.
“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”
“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”
After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.
They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.
“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”
“Vee—”
“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”
For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.
“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”
Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”
“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.
Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.
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I hate to be an asshole, but I see this a lot and I'd like your take because while we have differing opinions on some things, your metas are spot on (and I binged half your stories last weekend, oops) and I know you'll be straight up with me on this. What "chemistry" between Zuko and Katara? I keep seeing that and not getting it? The chemistry when he roughed up her grandmother and threatened her village? The chemistry when he tied her to a tree and violated her boundaries? (1/3)
The chemistry when he hired a trained assassin to stalk her good friend and if collateral damage happened, oopsie? The chemistry when he stabbed her in the back after she was nice to him in the crystal catacombs? The chemistry when he demanded that she accept him? Or the chemistry when he showed he didn’t know her at all? The chemistry when both of them were grossed out being thought a couple? Or is it the chemistry when he saved her and Katara couldn’t wait to kiss another guy? (2/3)
I dislike r/eylo from Star Wars fandom. I think it sends the wrong message. But as much as I hate it, there was chemistry there from the first. Rey is attracted to him and Kylo is attracted to her. They don’t want to be, but they are and it plays out in the next two movies. There was none of that in ATLA and I can understand z/ks saying it but other people? What am I missing? Where am I not looking? I’m not even that huge on Katara/Aang but Zuko/Katara chemistry where? (3/3)
Obligatory disclaimer: this is my personal response to anon’s questions and my personal thoughts on Zvtara’s chemistry. I’m not going to put this into the main tags - much less the Zvtara tag! - because while I believe this is a genuine question, I don’t doubt there’s at least one person out there who will misconstrue it as “hate” because the A:TLA fandom is, uh, aggressive in its ship wars lol. However, if I have any Zvtara shippers following me, I encourage you to reblog this post with your own thoughts! Please refrain from sending your commentary on anon unless you’re going to be friendly about it, lol; I like to keep my blog positive and welcoming! Thank you :)
Firstly, I am EXTREMELY flattered that you enjoy my metas so much and binged half my fics!! I was grinning so gleefully as I read that part of your asks,, y’all are too sweet to me. 💛
Okay. Moving on.
So, the main question here seems to be this: What chemistry exists between Zuko and Katara in A:TLA?
Short answer? None, in my opinion.
Longer answer? For all the reasons you outline in your asks, I do not perceive any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. Note the qualifiers: “romantic” and “within the series run.” I’ll try to break down what I mean!
“no romantic chemistry”
For one, a romantic interest with anyone in the Gaang would have undermined Zuko’s entire redemption arc, full stop. Yes, I mean anyone. For Zuko to have joined the Gaang because of romantic interest* would have been… counterproductive. Zuko joined the Gaang because he realized - to put it very simply - that the Fire Nation was wrong. He realized how he’d been indoctrinated since birth. He realized that he could help the Avatar (instead of trying to, uh, kill him lmao) by teaching him firebending. He realized he could help Aang defeat the Fire Lord and bring peace to the four nations. Zuko realized he could help end the war. He could help break the cycles of violence and abuse that had in part made his own life so miserable. For him to join the Gaang because of romantic interest? Completely takes away from all of that. A key theme of A:TLA is dismantling imperialist power, propaganda, rhetoric, etc. Zuko’s decision to fight against Fire Nation imperialism is crucial to his redemption. He could not have been redeemed without making that choice. Thus, if Zuko had joined the Gaang because of romantic interest, it would have been completely counteractive to his redemption.
(*That is, the relatively popular [? I think?] implication that Zuko and Katara’s moment in “The Crossroads of Destiny” was romantic-coded and thus Zuko should have joined the Gaang at the end of Book 2 because he had romantic interest in Katara and she in him. I genuinely am clueless how people interpret that moment as romantic - like to me it’s honestly heartbreaking! Katara offers Zuko tentative sympathy only for him to stab her in the back minutes later - so if someone would like to share some thoughts, please feel free to do so!!)
On a similar note, for Zuko to take the lightning for Katara at the end of the series because of romantic interest would also undermine his redemption arc. Please note: this does not mean Zvtara shippers cannot interpret the Agni Kai as being romantic-coded. Of course they can! That’s what fanon is for! Transformative works! But in terms of canon, Zuko did not try (and fail, rip) to redirect Azula’s lightning because he was romantically interested in Katara. (I mean, in terms of canon, Zuko and Katara were both romantically interested in other people, too, so… Moot point, lol? But I digress.)
Zuko taking the lightning is about him learning to earn forgiveness and accept unconditional love from his family (both Iroh and the Gaang). It is a selfless act, and it directly parallels Zuko’s selfish act in “The Crossroads of Destiny” to stand silently while Azula strikes Aang with lightning, thus becoming complicit in Aang’s death. The point of his “sacrifice” is that Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone (and don’t get me wrong - the moment is doubly powerful with Katara, as she’s a primary protagonist!). Zuko did not attempt but fail to redirect the lightning because it was Katara he was protecting; he took it because it was the right thing to do. Zuko has learned to differentiate between “right and wrong” on his own. To at last put others before himself. To make his decision about romantic interest? To make Zuko’s most selfless act in the series (not to mention one of his only 100% selfless acts!) about out-of-the-blue “romantic love”? That not only lessens the impact of his decision, but it is also reductive to Zuko’s entire character and arc. There’s no romantic chemistry there.
Again, of course, fanon exists for purposes such as interpreting Zuko’s failed misdirection of the lightning to protect Katara as romantic. Go wild!! I’m talking strictly about canon.
So that pretty much summarizes why romantic interest with anyone in the Gaang would have been detrimental to Zuko’s redemption, hence why Zuko doesn’t have any canon romantic chemistry in the Gaang. It just ain’t there! It would have screwed over his arc! And again, because of all the reasons you outline, I cannot comfortably interpret any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. Personally, romantic Zvtara would have been too sudden, too unexpected, and too… well, as I said: uncomfortable. Why would Katara have romantic interest in a guy who’d hurt her so many times? Who she’d only just forgiven? Why would Zuko have romantic interest in Katara, a girl he barely knew for most of the series? Especially when he already had feelings for a childhood friend? I, personally, just don’t get it.
But. You know what Zuko and Katara do have in canon?
A phenomenal platonic bond.
It develops very late, admittedly; Katara has only forgiven Zuko for the last five episodes of the series (5 out of 61… Katara was only on good terms with Zuko for 8% of the series, lmao). But Zuko and Katara are very, very similar personality-wise, so it follows that (eventually) they’d be great friends! Yeah, Zuko acts like an entitled dick for a good portion of “The Southern Raiders” lmao, but he ultimately respects Katara’s decision to spare Yon Rha (love that scene so much 🤧). Katara recognizes that Zuko is trying his best (if sometimes falling short) to redeem himself and earn the Gaang’s trust, and she also understands how - while she is completely justified in her anger! - holding that hatred close to her chest isn’t good for her. So she offers him a third chance (and honestly, Zuko should be forever grateful for that lmao!).
So what can a strong platonic bond lead to? Well, if it’s in your taste, a romantic relationship!
“within the series run”
As aforementioned, I don’t see any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. I think Zuko has hurt Katara in too many ways - and again, she has only just forgiven him by the end of the show - for there to realistically have been any blossoming romance between them. I think romantic interest for anyone in the Gaang would undermine Zuko’s redemption. I also think M@iko and K@taang are well-implemented romances into A:TLA, so romantic Zvtara would not have fit into the narrative. (Doesn’t mean someone has to ship them!! I just mean they made logical sense and had narrative purpose within canon. That’s all.) But again, Zuko and Katara have a great platonic bond. So while I don’t see romance within the series run, I can understand why people might be attracted to Zvtara in post-canon!
Post-A:TLA (disregarding LOK, which I haven’t even seen lol) Zvtara has some solid potential. I’m personally intrigued by the idea of how they’d navigate their relationship amidst all the politics! Basically, any relationship with a strong platonic bond can have potential for “more.” That’s why people ship T@ang, that’s why people ship Zvkaang, Zvkka, M@ilee, etc. So while Zvtara may not have romantic chemistry within the show - in my opinion! - they’ve got one of my favorite platonic bonds, so I can totally get people wanting to explore that bond in post-A:TLA and possibly translating it to romance.
So for some people, then, it might be less about “chemistry” in A:TLA itself, but more how their relationship could grow and change after the end of the series!
Quick sidebar: I mentioned that while I do not interpret the final Agni Kai as romantic, I’m fine when other people do. It’s fanon! Ain’t no big thing! But also, Katara has forgiven Zuko by that point. I, personally, am not comfortable with reading any of Zuko and Katara’s TSR-and-earlier interactions as romantic because of the imbalanced power dynamic. Example: I don’t think Zuko tying Katara to a tree and manipulating her with her mother’s necklace was romantic, and I don’t like the resulting implications when people do treat it as such. Zuko was still so indoctrinated by Fire Nation propaganda… Yeah, from Book 1 to about halfway through Book 3, I personally don’t feel comfortable shipping Zuko with anyone outside of the Fire Nation. Pre-redemption Zuko was not the most fun person to be around if you were non-Fire Nation.
But as I’ve said, these are all just my opinions! Again, if I have any Zvtara shippers following me, please feel free to reblog with your own thoughts! I would love to know where the idea comes from that Zvtara had chemistry within A:TLA, since I personally don’t see any romantic vibes (though platonic chemistry, of course, abounds.)
(For the record, I don’t know anything about Star Wars, which is why I haven’t brought up R.eylo, lol.)
TL;DR - To me, there isn’t any canon romantic chemistry for Zvtara. Narratively, I think it would undermine Zuko’s arc. Logically, because of how Zuko treated Katara for 92% of the series, I personally cannot interpret any of their interactions as romantic. But their platonic bond? Beautiful!! Thus, if people want to explore post-A:TLA, fanon Zvtara, I am all for it.
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a-square-minus-one · 3 years
Text
Honey 9
Well well well this series of disconnected one shots is getting a little meat to it lol
Raven tries running a million solutions in her head as she flies quickly to her teammates. 
She could teleport the sparring pairs to different locations but her brothers could always teleport back.
She could form a solid dome around the sparring pairs but holding an impenetrable barrier that wide for too long would leave her incapable of doing anything else to help the situation.
She could try to come up with a spell to counteract Malchior’s spell but that could take hours and they didn’t have the time.
She could-
Her thoughts are cut short when one of Starfire’s light beams zaps a couple inches in front of her nose and knocks down a tree several feet away. She curses. Barrier it is.
She plants both her feet on the ground and closes her eyes.
“Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!”
The barrier isn’t the strongest, and she’s pretty sure she sees one of Starfire’s light beams break through just as she erects it but it’s better than nothing.
“Titans, the park’s not empty!” she barks out through gritted teeth, stretching the barrier as Wrath tumbles away from Starfire. She would have thought they didn’t hear her seeing as they didn’t pause at her announcement but Starfire immediately stops using light beams and Cyborg retracts his cannons back into his body. They were clearly trying to revert to hand to hand which would slow the damage made to the park. But this also made them vulnerable to her brother’s energy blasts.
“Terra,” Raven calls through gritted teeth . 
“On it,” Terra responds, already working to block off any energy blasts with mounds of Earth. Raven puts her whole body into maintaining a solid dome. The energy blasts that Terra doesn’t have time to block keep hitting her barrier. She feels like a rope that’s slowly being pulled apart string by string.
“Beast Boy?” Terra gasps when she finally finds herself close enough to Raven to ask. Raven, who was working on making the barrier around the group tighter, tries to determine whether soothing Terra’s concerns is worth the momentary lapse in concentration. She digs her heels harder into the ground.
“With Aqualad,” she finally responds, the muscles in her neck tense with the strain. She doesn’t have time to interpret the look Terra shoots her as Wrath’s giant body bulldozes into her force field. The dark energy vibrates around the whole team like a thin piece of metal. Raven bends her knees, clenches her eyes shut and pushes her hands out in front of her. She’s biting down so hard that she’s sure her teeth were going to sink into her gums. 
“Agh!” she cries out, feeling as her energy is strained out of her through her skin. She knows she’s going to collapse but usually during battles she can measure the exact moment it will happen. This time it comes to her abruptly. Something breaks through her shield and instead of straining to fill the gap, all that black energy just collapses back into itself. It’s sucked back into her body all at once. She imagines this is what throwing up backwards would feel like. She falls into the ground, scrapping her palms with pebbles as she tries to soften her sudden descent. Her skin feels paper thin. See-through. Her insides exposed. She gasps for breath, bringing her knees to her chest. She gasps again, trying to clear the black spots from her vision. Her teammates are a blur of colors forcing her to close her eyes.
She feels a stabbing pain sprouting from her ribs; the pressure makes her cough and gasp. She rolls over on her back hoping to get more air in her lungs, only to have someone sit their full weight on her stomach, pinning her elbows with their knees.
“Charming little makeshift amulets you made for your little friends,” Malchior hisses, tapping the jewel on her forehead. She turns away from his touch so abruptly that her world spins. Where’s Garfield? She tries to move her head to look for him but Malchior grabs her chin roughly. She wiggles beneath him.
“It’s something I would have thought of myself in my beginning years of mystical practice. Of course I probably would have noticed how ill equipped those charmed amulets would be to protect my nonhuman friends. Cruel of you to leave the green one so exposed to your brothers’ manipulation.”
Raven stills.
“Changeling is human,” she mumbles mostly to herself. Her amulets would protect him. Malchior grins, his eyes squinting with incredible mirth for such a dark soul. 
“Is he always dear?” 
Raven clenches her fist so hard that she’s sure she breaks skin. Her throat is tight with the urge to punch the “dear” right out of his mouth.
“Yes,” she bites out. Malchior sucks his teeth, looking at the sun above them. He looks back down at her and her stomach turns.
“You’re still so naive. It makes me want to devour you,” Malchior says, running a finger down her neck. She wiggles away.  He smiles, moving his hand away. “I knew what I wanted when you found me in that book. I wanted out. And then you opened yourself to me. And at first, I took simply to satisfy my basal carnal desires for flesh. A man gets lonely after being imprisoned so long.” Malchior looks towards the sun again, his smile fading in thought. After a few moments, she tries to move her head again to look for Garfield, but he snatches her chin roughly.
“I still had every intention of getting out. But you, my dear, would have been nice to have too. The last piece to my puzzle,” he says, running his thumb over the corner of her lips. 
It is the last straw for her.
He touches her so wontedly. As if she was an extension of his body.
She is tired of the condescending speeches.
The way he looks down on her but still trailed his eyes over the curve of her breast.
She feels a scream locked tight between her clavicles.
He kneels above her now, a physical embodiment of the weight she’s carried since she was fifteen. 
A shame that should have never been hers. 
He looks like a giant from this angle. 
She stills completely, looking him directly in the eyes.
“You will not pin me down any longer,” she says, and her eyes grow hot with power. Something in her mind just aligns, like all her emotions have come to the center of her mind to get this man off of her. She propels his body into the air, pinning him down at each limb.
“Eripe animam, flere sanguine venire ad me, et ponam te in somnum-” Malchior’s eyes widen, his lips part. “Et stabit de domino vestro, aliquis. Et stabit de domino vestro. Audite vocem meam.” 
And suddenly he’s unconscious and she is clutching a clay figurine tight in her hand. She opens a portal and his body is swallowed up beneath her. 
She closes up the portal and her knees sink in the soft grass where his body once was. She digs her palms into the earth and breathes. Deeply, fully.
Painfully.
What did she just do?  
“Now is not the time for silent contemplation!” Terra digs her fingers into Raven’s arm dragging her to her feet. “You said he’d be protected! Now help me do whatever the fuck it is you just did with the dragon.”
Terra gestures wildly to the scene in front of them. Raven’s limbs grow cold as a pained roar practically rumbles the ground beneath them. She looks up just in time to see Nightwing’s weapon dislodging itself from the Beast’s shoulder. Chunks of flesh and blood spurt out of the wound, matting his green fur.
“The Beast,” Raven mumbles. Terra shoves her. Raven can feel Terra’s hot anger like it was an iron in her own core.
“No fucking shit. Aqualad passed out. It took your boyfriend two seconds to take this thing out of Gar. You know how fucking hard it is for him to keep that under wraps!” Terra yells, her finger digging into Raven’s sensitive chest. Raven backs up, more overwhelmed by the waves of distress coming off the changeling’s girlfriend than threatened. Unshed tears make Terra’s eyes shine like crystals. They don’t fit with the crumpled paper that is Terra’s expression.
Raven side steps Terra with the intent to join the fray.
And then she sees the destruction all around them.
Her lips part.
Her eyes land on the crisped back of a man. There is no telling what age he was. He is laying on his stomach. Raven almost thought he was a rock. His skin is textured and misshapen, bits peeled off to reveal sensitive pink flesh underneath. He is charred, the only color on him is the remnants of his blue shirt that didn’t burn off of him. The rest melted into his skin. 
Raven puts a hand over her lips and takes a couple instinctive steps towards him. 
Terra grabs her elbow gently. Raven looks towards her. 
“I checked him already,” Terra says. Raven has trouble pinpointing what Terra is feeling. The anger is still simmering inside of her, but her sadness and defeat is also heavy on Raven. And then she feels something really soft and tender, right in her heart...Terra’s empathy. Raven throat is blocked. She can only mouth the words ‘I’m sorry.’ Terra nods. 
 Raven resumes her jog towards her team.
“Who was next to him? Wrath?” Raven asks over her shoulder. 
“The long haired one.”
“Envy?” Raven asks, looking over her shoulder with one eyebrow cocked. Garfield certainly had his bursts of jealousy but envy is much more deeply seated in people. 
“Yeah if that’s the long haired one,” Terra says, keeping up with Raven’s pace. 
“You should stay back, the Beast is unpredictable.”
“Oh like I did before?” Terra asks sarcastically, her red hot anger poking holes through what Raven can sense is a remarkable effort to be respectful. Raven pushes forward.
She’s near the Nightwing and Changeling when the world gets tilted sideways. She hears a crack as her shoulder bangs painfully against the ground. A suffocating weight lands on top of her. The little breath she has in her lungs escapes her quickly. 
“The end is near sister,” Wrath says, pinning her. She phases through the ground and moves herself behind him. From the corner of her eye she sees a flash of blonde hair. Terra is engaged in her own tussle with Lust. 
Where’s Starfire?
“Your friend is unconscious. For now. She is a formidable opponent and an impressive warrior. She’d make a great addition to our plan. She just needs someone to tap into that thinly veiled anger in her.”
Raven clutches the clay figurine in her hand very firmly. 
“I’ll never join you,” she says, her voice even despite having no time to catch her breath. She’s taking gulps of air but she still doesn’t feel the oxygen travelling through her body. Her shoulder is burning, bringing tears to the corners of her eye. “So what is the point of all this?”
Wrath’s face is even. He holds his arms behind his back and stands with perfect posture. Nothing about him indicates that Starfire put a dent in him but Raven is certain they were an even match. She clenches her fingers around the clay figurine tighter as irritation begins to bubble beneath her skin. She knows the exact moment Wrath can sense it because his lips curl on both ends. 
“Because I’m angry,” Wrath says. She doesn’t even see his chest rise when he breathes. He doesn’t move an inch. 
She thinks of the body behind them. 
A man who was just enjoying the nice weather at the park. Maybe walking his dog. Hopefully not with his family. And now there were pieces of his skin, shriveled up like crumpled up straw covers hanging off of his body. 
The worst thing is that Wrath didn’t have to manipulate her. 
She screams.
It comes straight from her chest, rips through her inflamed throat.
 She can feel herself lifting off the ground, propelled by the black tentacles that have emerged from beneath her cloak. She towers over her brother.
“You pathetic imbecile. Trigon will never respect you,” she booms, feeling her anger diffuse through her, solidifying into dark energy that surrounds her in clouds.   
Wrath doesn’t move. Even when one of the tentacles whips towards him and wraps itself tightly around his neck. Raven squeezes it tighter.
“I can snap you.”
“You think us terrible. Pure evil. You think the world would be better without us,” Wrath says, even tone, looking like he might as well be in a cradle even though Raven’s grip is making the skin of his neck red. “There are some humans we do not even have to touch, sister.”
“And there are some that you do.”
“And there are some that we do,” Wrath agrees in a low voice. “Some people are good because they are good. Some people are good because they fear what will become of themselves if they do something bad. We only serve to make people forget the consequences. We give them free will. Isn’t that what everyone deserves?”
Raven feels herself shrinking back to her regular height, her grip on her brother’s neck loosening. 
“Asking people to make decisions when they have a distorted view of reality is not meritable.”
 “Is it distorted? Can you  honestly purport that this is your reality when there is another side of you vying to be at the forefront? What if you are the one with a clouded view of reality?”
Raven lowers him completely. He’s wrong. She knows it.
“Your red headed friend is awake,” Wrath says, his hands resuming their position behind his back. He smirks a perfect slant. “And she’s angry.” 
Of course I probably would have noticed how ill equipped those charmed amulets would be to protect my nonhuman friends. Malchior’s voice rings in her head. 
Shit. Raven thinks turning just in time to see Starfire, hunched over, running towards the pair at full speed. Her red hair billows behind her like a racehorse. Raven has always known that Starfire is well trained. She is probably the physically strongest of the group. But knowing is different than seeing the muscle of her thigh flex underneath her skin as she runs at you full force. 
Raven assesses what she can now understand is a broken arm. She still feels off center from her momentary lapse in control with her brother, like all the molecules in her body are vibrating at a different frequency. This is going to be fun. She bends at the knees, summoning whatever is left of her dark energy to her fingertips and braces for impact.
But Starfire veers left when she reaches the pair. 
She hits Wrath at the knees with the full weight of her body.
“You touched her! Who do you think her anger was directed at, imbecile?!” Lust bellows from across the field. He’s distracted enough for Terra to literally rip the ground from underneath him. Raven hears a crack as Lust falls on his head.
“Go!” Terra yells, gesturing to the Beast. Raven looks around, making sure all her brothers are evenly matched before running towards Nightwing and Changeling. 
She hears a yowl as she approaches causing her to quicken her pace. Nightwing is crouched down, one arm extended toward the Beast. Nightwing looks ready to pounce, one had on the ground as if he is regaining energy from it. There is a long scar across his cheek that’s bleeding down his neck.
The Beast’s fur is charred and matted in many spaces. Patches of fur are missing on his abdomen. He tears out the throwing star Nightwing swung at him and gives a full chested roar that almost makes Raven tumble backwards. Glistening sharp teeth are bared. Saliva stretches from one lip to the other. 
And then the pair are charging at each other.
Raven puts herself between them, erecting the biggest force field she can. 
“Raven get out of the-” Nightwing begins, the sentence dying on his lips as the Beast takes an open clawed swipe at Raven’s side, causing her force field to collapse back into her for the second time that day. She falls to the ground, out of breath. Tears fall down her cheeks as sharp pain shoots down her broken arm. She can hear as the Beast paws hit the ground but can only see the outline of his blurred green figure pass her through the spots in her vision. 
She wants to lay down. 
She’s tired. 
Her entire body hurts. 
She wants to lay down. 
She wants to lay down.
She gets up with her good arm and blinks a couple of times.
Her cloak is tattered.
There are three long stripes on her side, oozing thick warm blood that stains her leg. She winces. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the resistance from her broken arm, she rips off the end of her cloak and ties it around her waist, covering the wounds as best she can. She gets up on her knees, her legs shaking beneath her. Inhaling deeply, she gets up fully and wobbles towards Nightwing and the Beast again.
“Raven-” Nightwing warns, noticing her from the corner of his eyes. Raven ignores him, walking slowly towards the Beast who is just getting up from whatever it was Nightwing just threw at him. The Beast sways briefly as he gets up on his legs. He shakes his head, putting a paw to it. Then retracts it to reveal blood. The Beast snorts, nostrils flaring. Giant green paws touch the ground again.
“Raven-” Nightwing warns again.
And then the Beast is charging.
Raven stands still waiting for him to get closer.
Then she summons whatever energy she has left and forms a force field around them.
The Beast is stunned, pausing mid run to look at the black bubble around them. His mouth closes and he lets out a little whimper. 
Then he looks at her. 
His chest expands. A roar rips past his lips as he lunges towards Raven. 
He stops when he’s just half a foot from her. Raven stands still, trying to pull herself past the screeching pain in her side.
He’s on all fours. She looks down at his muscles which are tight beneath his fur. Drool dribbles down his jaw. Many of his wounds are still bleeding. Some of them still have bits of the metal Nightwing launched at him still stuck in them. He’s breathing heavily.
“Neither of us can go on like this for much longer Garfield. You’re going to have to fight this urge.”
The Beast roars again, and Raven feels specks of saliva hit her face. Her hair blows back at the forces. Her ears ring. The Beast sticks its chest out, his claws digging up chunks of the ground.
“I can’t go into your head. I don’t have the energy,” she says, looking into the Beast’s eyes. They’re completely black and small, overshadowed by his thick furry eyebrows. Raven can see herself in them. Tears push past her lower lids again as she painfully raises her wounded arm and puts her fingers in between his eyebrows. Her blood stained fingers get lost in his green fur.
“I’m in a lot of pain right now Garfield,” she says very softly, not used to the tremble in her voice. “I won’t be able to help the team much longer. Please...we need you.”
She holds her breath, her fingers twitching.
It’s silent
And then the Beast howls again, long and loud. She flinches as she hears bones cracking and watches as Garfield’s muscles shift underneath his skin. The Beast’s body shrinks. Raven breaths out, falling to her knees as Garfield does. His body shivers back into its human form. He’s on all fours still, head turned towards the ground. His howl turns into a scream.
“Changeling,” she asks, her hand is on the top of his head. She removes her wounded arm with a soft yelp. Her other hand reaches out and runs behind his ear and underneath his jaw. She lifts his head so he can look at her.
His eyes are pink and watery. His face crumples up in a wince as he sits back on his feet. His uniform is tattered and she can barely see any purple underneath all the blood. A breath passes her lips as she hovers her hand over all of his wounds. He peeks at her through one eye. Then this ridiculous, completely misplaced grin stretches across his face.
“Garfield?”
“Do you think Nightwing is going to take this out on me during training?”
She wants to yell at him for joking.
She really does.
But suddenly her head feels very heavy.
She blinks a couple of times. 
Garfield’s face goes out of focus.
Her chin hits her chest.
She feels herself falling forward.
And that’s all she remembers.
13 notes · View notes
440mxs-wife · 4 years
Text
Lost and Found
"You want me to work this case with who?" Arthur Ketch asked.
"Relax, Ketch, she's had field experience before, she just hasn't been in the field much lately. Trust me, she'll be perfect for this," Dean assured him.
"This is not a training op, a learn-as-you-go thing, this is a serious case, Dean. I need an experienced hunter to carry off the cover story and perform her duty. I don't think she fits the part, and she's not my type anyway," Ketch complained.
As if on cue, you walked through the War Room on your way to the main living area. You had a book in one hand, which you were reading as you walked. A cup of cocoa occupied your other hand. You reached the living room and settled into a corner of the couch with your favorite quilt.
Dean cleared his throat behind you. Without looking up from your book, you asked, "What do you need, Dean?"
"So, we have a case right now that requires your unique....talents," he started.
You closed your book in annoyance and narrowly gazed at Dean. "To what 'unique talents' are you referring? What exactly do you want me to do?" you asked.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, something he tended to do when he was nervous or about to do something he didn't want to do. "This is Arthur Ketch, former British Man of Letters. There's a case involving a vampire, named Simon Foster. He's hosting a formal party by invitation only. Your cover would involve you posing as a couple with Ketch," he explained.
You knew this wasn't the whole story, so you waited for Dean to finish. "And....you have to dress up, like evening-gown type dressing up," he added.
You took a few moments to assess your potential hunting partner's attributes. You knew that in the past, he had been a ruthless killer for the British Men of Letters. However, you also remembered how he rescued Gabriel from Asmodeus, at great risk to his own safety. He was working with the Winchesters from time to time as a free-lance operative.
Aside from the professional evaluation, you had to admire his broad chest and tall, confident stature. He had sparkling blue-green eyes that you knew had to hold a certain amount of mischief every now and then. He had just enough of a beard to be considered ruggedly handsome and sexy. And that accent made you a little weak in the knees, if you were being truly honest with yourself.
Ketch interpreted your silence to mean that you were refusing to work with him on the case. "As I told you, Dean, she's not right for this mission," he retorted.
"Mr. Ketch, you don't know me very well. And I only know of you what I've heard in the tales of your exploits from Sam and Dean. Maybe it's time we got our assumptions about each other out of the way, and work this case? Hmm?" you replied as you rose from the couch.
Ketch walked over to where you were standing and said, "Well, my dear, since you have dropped the gauntlet, I accept your challenge. Oh, by the way, I do hope you have something appropriate to wear. Flannel and jeans won't fly in this instance, darling," he smirked.
You took one step towards Ketch, close enough so that you could detect the scent of his aftershave. With more calm in your voice than you currently felt, you looked deep into his eyes. "There's more to me than flannel and jeans. Buckle up, Mr. Ketch. It's going to be a fun ride," you replied, making a show of adjusting his tie before walking out of the room.
Ketch looked over at Dean, who was alternating between shock at your actions and outright laughter at Ketch's expense. He turned on his heel and went to his room, which was fortunately in the opposite direction of yours.
You spent the next week and a half preparing for the upcoming hunt with Ketch. Most of the time was occupied doing research, looking through books and poking around on the internet. Otherwise, you could easily be found at the firing range. You felt you were a little rusty, and the extra range time would help increase your accuracy. You also didn't want to give Ketch one single reason to regret partnering with you.
"Research days" were long ones. You made sure to take plenty of breaks to stretch your legs. If you made yourself a snack, you brought one back for Ketch also. Where you had hot cocoa or coffee, you made tea for Ketch. He never asked you for anything, but for you, it was almost automatic to share in your hospitality. It was in these little ways that you were trying to show Mr. Ketch that his assumptions about you may not be accurate.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ketch stared at the glass of milk you brought to him, along with three chocolate chip cookies you had baked the day before. Today, it was muffins at breakfast, cookies in the afternoon and pie with dinner. The woman certainly has her talents, he thought. Maybe she can pull this off after all.
As you nibbled on your cookie, Ketch took a moment to study you. You had greenish-hazel eyes, one of which had a small dark mark in the iris. Your medium length chestnut locks couldn't keep themselves from falling in your face. On more than one occasion, Ketch found himself wanting to reach over and tuck the wayward curls behind your ear. As you searched through the reference books, he could see the look of deep concentration on your face. He had to admit, you may just have the determination to get the job done.
He had followed you one day to the shooting range to see how you handled a firearm. He watched as you carefully loaded the rounds into the clip for your .380 pistol, and inserted the clip. When the weapon was ready, you raised it into position, took aim and systematically emptied the clip. You left the target hanging on the range, so as soon as you left, Ketch went over to check your results. He was amazed to find that all rounds except one hit center mass, just like they were supposed to do. The only one that didn't hit center mass was a head shot.
From what he'd seen, you were more than capable of performing your part in this case. You had already demonstrated to him that you could handle a firearm. This skill likely translated to other weapons as well, so Ketch wasn't worried about that.
You'd also shown him your sensitive side. It was in the way you took care of everyone in the bunker, including him, despite his initial dismissive attitude towards you. It occurred to him that it was partially because of you that the Winchesters' hunting operation was so successful. You made sure everyone was fed well, had clean clothes and injuries were patched. Not just the physical injuries either, but the emotional ones as well that can take their toll on a hunter.
One night, he had a nightmare that left him calling out in his sleep. In his nightmare, he was put on trial by the British Men of Letters. All of the people he had killed were brought in as witnesses against him, and of course, he was found guilty. His punishment was that each victim got a chance to kill him, causing him to experience his own death several times over.
He jerked awake to find you had crept into his room and were sitting on the edge of his bed. You gently laid a hand on his arm to assure him that he was safe and that it was only a nightmare, not real. He tried to be the tough guy, rather than let you see how upset the nightmare had made him. He didn't want you to think he was soft or didn't have the guts to carry out the mission.
You never asked what his nightmare was about, probably figuring that he wouldn't want to tell you. You simply stated that all hunters had nightmares from what they've seen and done, so he was no different, that even you had them. In fact, you'd had one that night as well, and were having trouble getting back to sleep from it.
Ketch couldn't believe that someone so kind and compassionate as you would have anything to fear or regret about what you'd done in the course of hunting. You told him that some of your nightmares were about loved ones being tortured or killed while you were forced to watch. Most of them, though, were about the people you couldn't save, in addition to all of the guilt and helplessness you felt about the outcomes.
When it appeared to you that Ketch was uninterested in the comfort you came to offer, you awkwardly stood up from the bed. You mumbled that if he needed anything, you were down at the end of the hall, then you made your way to the door. As your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave, he asked you to stay so that he could comfort you. He assured you he meant no funny business, that he was only offering a way for you both to get back to sleep. You looked at him, a little skeptical at first, then relented with a shy smile.
Ketch held up the blanket for you to slip into bed beside him. You started out at the far edge of the bed, your back to him as you laid your head on the pillow. He reached over to drape an arm around your midsection and pulled you closer to him. He accidentally nuzzled your neck with his stubbly chin and breathed in the scent of strawberries from your shampoo. When he exhaled, his breath was warm against your skin, but you seemed to shiver a bit in response. In a shaky voice, you whispered, "Goodnight, Arthur," took his hand in yours and closed your eyes. He whispered "goodnight" and also closed his eyes, a smile etched on his face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ketch was putting the last minute touches on his tux while he waited for you to get ready. He made sure he had the invitation listing both of your names. He also made sure he had his sharpest machete ready, along with some dead man's blood. He was about ready to call out to you to see how much longer you'd be, when he heard the unmistakable sound of high-heeled shoes on the tile floor.
You were dressed in a midnight blue, floor-length gown, with a slit halfway up your left thigh. The A-line gown had a criss-cross bodice that hugged your curves, and featured wide straps that crossed in the back. Embedded in the fabric were tiny crystals that sparkled as they hit the light, reminding Ketch of the stars in the night sky. You wore your silver sparkly pumps to finish your wardrobe.
You chose to sweep your hair up in a French twist. You kept your makeup simple, mostly earth tones, with pink lipstick. You chose white crystal stud earrings and a velvet cameo choker to complete your jewelry selection.
When he saw you, his mouth ran dry, and for a moment, he had lost the ability to form a coherent thought. You noticed that his bow tie needed a little work, so you set your small handbag on the table and proceeded to fix his tie. "There," you said. "Now it's perfect. You look very dashing this evening, Mr. Ketch," you remarked.
"I must say, you look absolutely stunning, my dear," Ketch finally said. "This dress certainly suits you and definitely brings out your eyes," he murmured, so softly that only you could hear him.
"Thank you," you said quietly, a blush rising on your cheeks. At that moment, Dean walked in on the two of you and whistled. "Whoa! Lookin' good, you two!" he declared. "'Specially you in the dress," he said as he winked at you. You looked at Ketch, rolled your eyes and jerked your head in Dean's direction. He chuckled softly at your dismissal of Dean's compliment.
You looked at the delicate watch on your wrist and noticed the time. "We should get to the party, so that we don't miss our chance to take out the host," you remarked.
"Agreed. Shall we, my dear?" Ketch asked as he held out his arm to you. You slipped your hand through his arm, and he tucked it close to his side as you ascended the spiral staircase together. As you left, Dean sent up a silent plea for a successful hunt, with everything going according to plan.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You and Ketch walked into the party, hand in hand. Ketch let go of your hand long enough to retrieve your invitation and hand it to the bouncer at the door. You felt Ketch's hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the room. When you reached the dance floor, Ketch skillfully turned you around so that you were in his arms, ready to dance.
"We don't have time for this," you hissed.
"We have to blend in, Love. If we don't, we'll be in some deep trouble before we've had a chance to ID our objective," Ketch firmly but softly stated. "Now, let's dance," he commanded.
You settled into the waltz, allowing Ketch to lead you all around the dance floor. He was an amazing dancer, probably part of his training with the British Men of Letters. Fortunately for him, you had also taken dancing lessons, so you weren't completely clumsy. As you moved across the floor, you kept trying to find your host, the vampire.
"Relax, darling, I've already spotted him," Ketch assured you. "When this song is over, you are going to slap me as if we've just had an argument. After that, go to the bar for a drink. Don't worry, our host the vampire will seek you out. He'll see a beautiful but heartbroken woman. Let him convince you to go somewhere private where he can 'console' you. I'll keep my eye on you both and wait for the opportunity to take him out."
"You want me to slap you, then walk away as if we've had a fight about something? Okay," you shrugged, doing as you were ordered. "JERK!!" you spat out as you turned on your heel and went towards the bar. Ketch stood there, staring after you and holding his cheek. He was left wondering if maybe you enjoyed your part a little too much.
You perched yourself on a barstool and ordered a drink. As you sipped it, you felt a powerful presence approach you on your left side. It's him, you thought. Where the hell is Ketch? you wondered as a slight panic set in. You didn't dare turn around, though, as that may blow your cover story.
"A little trouble in love, hmm?" a deep voice rumbled.
You turned towards the source. "Pardon me?" you asked.
"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Simon Foster, and I'm the host of this soirée. But I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you?" he purred, his hand lightly brushing your arm.
You fought the instinct to pull your arm away in disgust. "Of course I know you. Simon Foster: CEO of Foster Industries, head of the second largest shipping company in the world. Desperately clawing his way to being the first largest shipping company in the world. Offices spread out all over the globe, such as in New York, Liverpool, Rio de Janeiro, Sydney, Marseille," you finished.
"Well, I'm impressed. You've certainly done your homework, my dear. But enough business talk. Let's get a little more personal," he suggested.
"I really should be getting back to---" Simon put a finger to your lips. "Let him suffer a bit first. Besides, my sister Cynthia seems to be occupying him," he snickered.
You turned your attention towards where you'd left Ketch. You were shocked to see him with his arms around a gorgeous, leggy blonde woman in a red sequined dress. Simon turned your face back to him, so that you were looking into his eyes. "Come, my darling, let's go somewhere a little more private, and get to know each other better," he coaxed.
You gave him a quick smile and slid down from the barstool. You had only had the one drink and sipped it at that. However, you felt a bit unsteady on your feet, as if you'd had more like four drinks. Simon offered you his arm to support you as he led you away from the bar area to one of the private rooms. Ketch, you silently pleaded. Don't leave me, please.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
No sooner had you left to go to the bar, that a blonde-haired woman in a red sequined dress came up to Ketch and asked him to dance. Ever the gentleman, he obliged, but did not lose sight of you. The blonde woman introduced herself as Cynthia Foster, sister of your host, Simon Foster. He engaged Cynthia in conversation, maintaining his cover, while trying to learn anything he could about her brother. The next time he turned his attention towards the bar, you were gone and so was Simon.
You and Simon stumbled into his private study area, where he closed the door and locked it behind him. In one swift move, he backed you up against his desk and started kissing you. As you stuck out your hand behind you to keep from falling over, you cut your finger on a letter opener.
When you examined the cut and the blood dripping from it, you could see the pupils in Simon's eyes grow wide. He took your finger in his mouth and tasted the blood. "Oh, darling. You taste so sweet, just like I knew you would," he growled as his fangs came into view. He pushed your head to the side and sank his fangs into your neck.
You knew you had to do something before you fell unconscious from losing too much blood. You carefully slid your hand down your thigh under your dress to release one of the syringes of dead man's blood you had hidden. Unfortunately, Simon caught on to what you were doing and wrenched it from your hand. "YOU!! You're a hunter!!" he screeched, throwing you to the floor and causing you to hit your head on a table in the process.
From the blood loss and possible concussion, you were finding it hard to remain conscious, let alone fight back. Fortunately, Ketch had burst through the door, wielding his machete. He took two long strides towards the vampire and skillfully sliced off Simon's head. With the mission objective met, Ketch turned his attention towards you. He noticed the bite marks on your neck and placed his handkerchief over it. He told you to hold it there to try and stop the blood loss.
"Ketch....Ketch....Arthur...." you whispered. He turned to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry. I should've....should....should've paid better attention," you remarked softly.
"Shh, try not to talk now, Love. Let's get you back to the bunker and patched up, good as new. I just hope to bloody hell Dean doesn't kill me for this," Ketch muttered. He placed you in the front seat of the car, buckled you in and then he ran around to the driver's side. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Ketch threw the car into gear and sped off into the night, headed back to the bunker.
"I'm so tired, Arthur," you replied as you drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Hold on, Love, hold on. We'll be there soon, just stay with me. Keep holding that kerchief up to your neck, darling," he soothed. When he didn't hear you respond, he looked over to see that you had fallen unconscious. He mashed down the accelerator in response, and soon the bunker was in his sights.
Once in the garage, he parked the car and ran around to the passenger side to get you. He scooped you up into his arms and pounded on the bunker door. Sam answered and quickly ushered you both in, then called out for Dean to help.
"What the hell happened, Ketch?!? You were supposed to look out for her. Is that what this looks like??" Dean thundered.
Ketch didn't say anything as he carried you to the infirmary to care for your wounds. You had bite marks on your neck from Simon, and a gash on your forehead where you'd hit the table. He placed you gently on the bed and went to the cabinet for what he would need to clean you up. Dean snatched the suture kit out of Ketch's hands and pushed him aside.
"Now see here, mate--" Ketch started angrily. "No, you see here. I'll take care of her. Been patching her up long before you came along, and I'll be doing it long after you leave," Dean retorted.
"Dean," you mumbled, opening your eyes. "Knock it off. It wasn't his fault," you muttered, sitting up a little. "He took out the vamp and his sister, mission accomplished," you said as you fell back onto the bed. "Arthur?" you called softly.
"Right here, Love," he said as he sat beside the bed and took your hand in his.
"Can you please stitch this up?" you asked, pointing at your neck and forehead.
Dean reluctantly handed him the suture kit and then stepped aside. "As you wish, darling," said Ketch. "Can someone please bring me a basin of warm water and a washcloth? I'll need to clean up some of this blood to see where I need to stitch," he explained. Sam left to go get the basin and washcloth.
Ketch looked at you with guilt in his eyes. You could tell that he felt responsible for what happened to you after having lost sight of you at the party. "Arthur, stop it. This wasn't your fault. I know how to take care of myself. It's just that this damn dress is so confining, which is why I'm a jeans-and-flannel kind of girl," you joked. He chuckled and you could see the relief in his eyes to know you would be all right.
"Well then, once we clean you up, we'll let you slip into something, shall we say, less confining and more comfortable?" he teased. By this time, Sam had returned with the basin and washcloth, as requested.
Ketch gently cleaned and dried your wounds. Turns out, the one on your forehead just needed those sterile tape strips to hold it closed, no stitches needed. Your neck was another story, though. Ketch took great care in making the stitches small to minimize the scar you were inevitably going to have. Dean brought back your pajamas so you would have something comfortable to change into. The guys then left the infirmary to give you some privacy as you changed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Weeks went by with no new cases or missions, which gave you time for your wounds to heal. You also felt yourself getting a little closer to Ketch, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way. He would always call you "Love" or "Darling". While not necessarily meant in a romantic way, it made you feel special each time he said it.
One afternoon, you were reading your book when you heard an argument in the hallway between Dean and Ketch. You heard sharp tones in the voices of both men, so you went to investigate.
"So you're just going to leave? Without even saying 'goodbye' to anyone, especially her?" Dean snapped. "After everything that's happened?"
"Dean, you know as well as I do, relationships and hunting don't pair well together. As far as any relationship I may have with her, it would be foolish to entertain such an idea. So you see--" he stopped.
"What's going on here? Arthur, what are you talking about?" you asked.
"He says he's found a case and after he's finished, he won't be coming back to live here," Dean retorted.
You felt the blood drain from your face. "Arthur, is this true? I thought....never mind what I thought," you muttered.
"Oh, let me guess. You thought that there were 'special feelings' between us? Darling, trust me, you don't want to get mixed up with someone like me. Not after the things that I've done," he finished.
"You still don't get it, do you?" you snapped in a rare flash of anger. "I don't care what you've done in the past! That isn't the man you are today, and he's the man that I....I love. There, I've said it. I love you, Arthur Ketch. And if you can't see that love is a gift and that it's worth fighting for....then maybe you should go," you choked out.
Ketch picked up his bag. "Well, I guess that's it then. Nothing more to say, I suppose, except goodbye," he said.
Tears in your eyes, you watched him walk up the spiral staircase and out to the garage. You jumped when the bunker door slammed shut, then you ran to your room and closed the door.
"Damn you, Ketch," Dean muttered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Soon after Ketch left, Sam and Dean started finding some new cases to work. You mostly stayed behind to do much-needed research for them. You were still heartbroken that Ketch decided to leave even after you declared your love for him. However, you tried to keep up a brave face for Sam and Dean. You smiled even when you didn't feel like it, just to keep them from asking if you were okay.
One night after a particularly dicey werewolf hunt, you were relieved when the boys finally came through the bunker door. Only this time, they weren't alone, they had someone with them. The man was injured and seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. You told them to bring him to the infirmary while you went to get the water basin and a washcloth.
"Okay, fellas, tell me what happened," you said. As you started to assess your patient, you gasped to see that it was none other than Arthur Ketch. The man to whom you had given your heart, but who didn't seem to want it.
"We found him locked in battle with that werewolf. He was holding his own until the werewolf slashed him across his stomach with its claws," Sam explained.
"A-all right. Let's get him cleaned up then I can see where he needs stitches. Dean, hand me a few suture kits, Sam help me get his jacket and shirt off," you ordered.
"Are you going to be okay with this? I mean, after what happened the last time he was here?" Dean asked.
"Dean, I'll be fine. Strictly professional, just the way he likes things. The sooner he gets well, the sooner he'll be free to leave me again," you said, your vision a little blurry from unshed tears. Dean squeezed your shoulder in support, and you gave him a small smile. Then you dipped the washcloth in warm water and started to clean Ketch's wounds.
After you had stitched him up, you dressed him in a clean T-shirt you had found in his bag. You left briefly to get your book so that you had something to do while you kept an eye on him.
Little did you know, Ketch was aware of what was going on the entire time. He heard the pain in your voice when you mentioned how he'd be free to leave you again once he was healed. Right then, he made up his mind that he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He just had to figure out how to show you that.
As you kept watch over your patient, you noticed that he had started mumbling in his sleep again. You drew your chair next to his bed and took his hand in yours. "I must be out of my damn mind, going down this path again," you muttered to yourself.
All of a sudden, you heard him say your name, and how he was sorry he'd hurt you. Then he said the words you longed to hear, "I love you, and I'm not leaving you again". He's asleep, he doesn't know what he's saying, you told yourself. You looked down and saw that he had opened his blue-green eyes and was searching your face for some sign of your feelings for him.
"Arthur? How are you feeling?" you asked gently.
He reached up with his free hand and cupped your cheek. "I've been better. The werewolf tore up my stomach, but I'm also hurting in my heart. You see, there was this wonderful woman I got to work with a while back.
“She's kind, considerate of others and is the most beautiful creature I've ever met. She sort of wiggled her way into my heart, and well, she never really left. But I left. Like a coward, I left her, which I never should've done," he confessed.
"What are you saying, Arthur?" you whispered.
"I'm saying that I was a fool to ever have left you, my love. I'm hoping that someday you can forgive me. You've helped me to see that love is a gift and it's definitely worth fighting for. I love you," he replied, pulling your face down to mesh his lips with yours. They were as soft as you'd imagined they would be, but firm, as he took charge of the kiss like he did with everything else in his life.
"I'm so glad you came back. I love you, Arthur Ketch," you said softly.
103 notes · View notes
fizzingwizard · 4 years
Text
So I’m sure you’re ALL on tenterhooks to find out what I thought of episode 36... the answer is.... LOVED IT!!!! No I really did. If you like Taishiro friendship, this is an essential episode to watch. Doesn’t blow me out of the water, but still just good.
Although Taichi has a big something to do as usual, it’s still very much a Koushirou episode. FREAKING YAY. I have a dozen thoughts about it, and what bugs me the most, of course, is how we needed this episode AGES ago ugh. But we’ve now had two or three episodes in a row that have actually felt like Digimon Adventure, so perhaps all that finger-crossing is working?
They could unravel all that good work in a minute by never addressing it again... or not letting Koushirou show his personality unless it’s his “turn” for an episode from here on... but you know, I will cross that bridge when we come to it.
Pic of the day:
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“I don’t like people. But they are occasionally useful.” - 2020 Izumi Koushirou’s life lesson, lmao
*The red strip at the top is about the big earthquake that hit Eastern Japan yesterday. It’s annoying to have it there for the entire episode - usually they only stick around for a couple minutes - but this WAS a large earthquake. It caused many people to lose power. So making sure everyone knows what’s going takes precedence over Sunday morning cartoons. (I’m in Osaka and didn’t even feel it, but my friends in Tokyo prefecture very much did.)
Lots and LOTS of ranting from a rabid Taishiro fan under the cut!
(also I didn’t check for typos so. yeah)
The episode starts right off by assuring us this is a Koushirou episode. We get the trademark Izumi Koushirou floating in the void of space sequence, which is excellent and very encouraging framing.
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Koushirou Kenobi: “Use the force, Taichi.”
Taichi: “Use it yourself.”
(the episode in a nutshell)
The initial thing that bugged me - okay, so the kids got separated for the umpteenth time many episodes ago, and since then we’ve stuck to Taichi like barnacles. The only glimpses we’d get of the other kids showed: Yamato running towards something, Koushirou flying towards something while researching the satellite malfunction, Jou in the hot springs, and Mimi at the crystal caves. For Jou and Mimi, I don’t care, because they never tried to move, but Yamato and Koushirou were constantly moving. Yet, in the end, it’s Taichi’s group that catches up with Koushirou, rather than the other way around. It DOES make sense - it seems like Koushirou told them to “meet at the giant gold pillar” because that’s where they needed to be to save the world, so it became the rendezvous point. But it just bugs me because, once again, all the activity is on Taichi’s side. But that’s a minor quibble. The end result is still THIS:
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More of the team is together!!! Taichi and Koushirou are together!!! Yaaayy!!!
... the betting pool for how long it will be till the next separation is now open >.>
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Poor Komodomon’s long mop dog fur is so dirty. “Fizz his fur always looks like that.” He’s tracking mud everywhere. “Fizz look at his ears his fur is supposed to look that way.” Next episode - everyone gives Komondomon a bath.
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So the start of this episode is just a bunch of talking about how dire things are with the satellite situation. I’m not gonna bother translating. Watch the sub when it’s out if you really want to know :P The important thing is, the gold pillar is directly causing the malfunction, no one on Earth can stop the satellite from plummeting to Tokyo, the city is being evacuated, and there are only 20 minutes till impact.
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Koushirou has an elaborate plan which Sora adorably sums up as “So, we’re gonna shoot it out of the sky *makes punching motion*”
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The crux of Koushirou’s plan hinges on a repeat of how Omegamon saved Tokyo from the missile way back in like, episode 2 or 3. Taichi says, “Yeah, but I barely remember how we did that.” Which is hilarious because I don’t remember either because it was 30 EPISODES AGO. Once again this episode feels like it was meant to happen WAY EARLIER THAN IT DID. It’s just weird to be referencing something that happened 30 episodes ago after everything else that’s happened, AND on top of that, there are many references in this episode and none from later than like, episode 10 or 12. Making this all seem very oddly timed.
I’m not quite sure if, within the story itself, it matters that Taichi “doesn’t remember well.” He also doesn’t remember the Devimon battle where he and Agumon were infected with dark energy. That one makes sense for him not to remember. If that hadn’t happened, I would just take his “I don’t remember how we stopped the missile” to just mean it was so long ago. But together, it’s making me wonder if something else is going on.
Or maybe Taichi’s just been hit on the head one too many times (okay, that seems the most likely of all, haha)
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People of Tokyo: Is it Godzilla again? I heard he’s itching to fight King Kong. You know, given how often our city is attacked by kaiju, some might wonder why we haven’t moved away by now. But home is home, ya know?
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The group sets up to fly to the peak of the gold pillar. Obviously, without Yamato, there’s no Omegamon. No one points this out, but Koushirou seems very stressed with his plan, and it seems that he contacted Taichi in the first place because he thought “Taichi’s the one who can pull this off.”
After hearing the plan, Taichi shoots him through the heart with another “Koushirou, you’re so awesome!” and YAY I MISSED THIS SO MUCH!!!!!! *sobs*
Then he does his best to reassure Koushirou by remaining positive and determined that they can and will do this no matter how much Koushirou waves. The majority of the episode is them flying up the pillar while being assaulted by enemies trying to stop them, so it’s not like they get to talk about their feelings (lol). But at least we get a bunch of close ups of Koushirou’s and Taichi’s expressions, and that’s how we see this dynamic in play. Yes, Koushirou is the brainy one who made the plan, but he doesn’t have the confidence to take the lead, so he handed the reins to Taichi. As for Taichi - yes he has the confidence, yes he can do it... but he also has absolute faith in Koushirou. So that’s why this episode makes my little Koushirou fanatic heart skip a beat.
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First of the enemies is this guy, aptly named BladeKuwagamon.
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They’re actually pretty scary! They do real damage. (Blood in Digimon word is glowy unicorn-like stuff haha). Birdramon gets stabbed, but before Sora can get too upset, she just yanks the blade out of her chest...
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... and then crushes it into dust with her beak.
Sora: Holy crap, my partner is metal AF.
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Forgot to mention earlier but 5 whole minutes of the 20 minute countdown are used up just by digivolving apparently xD Taichi keeps asking Koushirou “how much time is left” and Koushirou’s panic grows more visible with each passing second...
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MetaLiffeKuwagemon looks cooler than he is. Supposedly he’s there to bring out the big guns, but to be honest...
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... the BladeKuwagamon don’t seem to need the help :P The enemy’s strategy is obvious: isolate each member of the team to prevent anyone from getting to the top. This is why Koushirou’s so stressed: he’s got a plan that is totally reliant on there being a leader strong enough to pull it off AND there being enough backup to protect that leader from the large number of enemies. And Koushirou doesn’t like these odds.
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Garudamon gets stabbed AGAIN
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Sora: Go on, we’ll be fine.
Taichi: Are you sure??
Garudamon: *DESTROYS EVERYTHING WITH FIRE*
I MEAN HONESTLY! Garudamon is not only my favorite of Piyomon’s evolutions, it’s pretty much my favorite Adventure evolution. Always has been since I was 11 years old. And she (and Sora) NEVER get that credit. Like. Growing up, with US dub Adventure, I interpreted Sora as more of a straight up tomboy than she is in the original. That’s okay, that’s whatever, but what was most important to me was that I saw her as the third “strong” member along with Taichi and Yamato. Those two were clearly in a class above her, but I saw her as being in the same “Taiorato” league. Garudamon seemed to prove that: she was so cool, so powerful, and... yeah, I just always thought she had so much potential to be awesome and never got why it wasn’t used. That’s also why I was disappointed in Tri - like, I liked Soushitsu, but I just wanted more from Sora’s arc. Same thing in Kizuna: I understand Sora’s arc, I don’t hate it or anything - I think it makes sense for her. But since I wanted something different for her all those years ago, it just left me feeling a bit flat.
but enough about other Digimon series :P Garudamon gets to be super cool here and I only hope we get to see more of it in this reboot. I’ll forgive it some of its other mistakes if we do :D
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With Takeru/Hikari and Sora isolated by the BladeKuwagamon, it’s up to Taichi and Koushirou alone to race against the clock! Their teeth are clenched, sweat runs in rivulets down their skin, their hearts are pounding in desperation...
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Koushirou: Taichi-san! If we don’t get to the top soon it’ll be too late!
Taichi: Just don’t call me late for dinner!
Koushirou: ASDFGHJKL;’ DAD JOKES NOW?? REALLY????????
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MetaLiffeKuwagamon makes life that much harder by knocking them against the pillar. However, this is a pillar of data, which enabled the BladeKuwagamon to evolve into MetaLiffeKuwagamon in the first place. Bugs aren’t that bright.
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Taichi and MetalGreymon are nearly submerged inside the pillar as a result, and then we get this sequence of red and black. The pillar had been emitting dark lightning, so I started to think... omg... is MetalGreymon gonna get a Dark Evolution???????
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.... Nah. That would have made sense, but.... nah :P
Overall I’m glad though, because that would really have turned this into a Taichi episode instead of a Koushirou one.
I’m not personally certain what the point of bringing BlitzGreymon out was. I had figured he would be like, a super fast evolution that would enable them to make it to the top. That would also have turned this into a Taichi episode. But...
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... Taichi tells Koushirou that he will have to go divert the satellite because Taichi has to deal with MetaLiffeKuwagamon.
I was both really pleased and really surprised. Because, again, now what’s the point of BlitzGreymon...? Why did we need a new Agumon evolution? There’s no particular reason why they couldn’t have just isolated Taichi with the enemy the same way the others were and had him tell Koushirou to keep going on his own then. They did do that, but first they gave him a new evolution. Why? Just because it’s cool?? I assume that must be the reason but we don’t even see BlitzGreymon fight xD It’s... it’s weird. But whatever.
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Taichi: Go, Koushirou!!!!! You can do it!!!!!
Fiz: *dies a thousand brilliant deaths*
So, Koushirou tells Taichi that he can’t do it - he can support Taichi, but he can’t take the lead. Taichi’s just like that’s wack, dude, of course you can do it. What I LOVE about Taichi and Koushirou’s dynamic is just that: Taichi never sees Koushirou as a weakling. The fact that he’s small, or that he’s brains over brawn, or even that he’s kinda antisocial - those are all reasons an energetic, extroverted kid like Taichi might bully, or at least think poorly, of Koushirou.
But Taichi values Koushirou. He knows how hard he works and is impressed both by that hard work and his talent. What’s more, he doesn’t see Koushirou’s brains as his support system. The whole time Koushirou’s thinking he’s there to support Taichi with his plan, Taichi was thinking, “I’m here to support Koushirou’s plan.” That is SO, SO important. And that’s why I LOVE this episode. The one thing the reboot seemed to really understand, that hooked me from the start, was the way it just GOT Taichi and Koushirou. They each support and follow each other, while each feeling like the other is better than them. Ugh I could like, cry over Taishiro now... omg....
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Taichi is successful in pushing Koushirou to go on, but of course Koushirou himself is still plagued with doubts. He reflects on how he’s always been fine being alone. He hasn’t particularly wanted friends and didn’t mind not having them, even though adults worried.
(Side note: this is a normal, if kinda rare, personality trait. I have it too. I always score Koushirou on “what Digimon character are you?” tests too lmao. Just like some people feel the need to be surrounded by others at all times, there are those whose social needs are very very low. I’m one of them. There’s nothing wrong with it except that even those people can get lonely and it’s easy to misunderstand them as shy or snobby. So what I love about Koushirou is, yes he learns to value his relationships more, but also learns to value himself. He is Koushirou: a brainy kid who’s happy on his own, but also happy with friends. While some people, like Mimi, struggle with that aspect of his personality, others, like Taichi, just accept it. To me that’s the best life lesson there is: there are always people who can and will be friends with you. Yes, I’ve lost friends because I just wasn’t social enough for them. But I have other friends who I’ve known for literal decades now. And I REALLY love those friends.)
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Koushirou feels grateful that he has AlturKabuterimon, and also that he has Taichi. So... here he is, reflecting on the last time he had meaningful interaction with that great friend Taichi... back in episode three. -____________-
Seriously, this would mean a lot more if this dynamic had been built on continually until this episode...
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Koushirou then briefly reflects on each of the other Chosen. Notably, every single solo image of them is from an episode that Koushirou either wasn’t in or wasn’t with them at the moment. Then we get this group image. It’s from EPISODE 12. (I’m actually not sure of the episode number but the point is, it’s from A LONG LONG TIME AGO. I think it’s the swamp episode??) That drives me NUTS. We shouldn’t have to reach soooo far back to find meaningful moments!!! Urk.
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Koushirou makes it to the peak of the pillar and AlturKabuterimon attacks the satellite to drive it off course. We see the impression of what looks to be HerculesKabuterimon and I really thought we’d get an evolution - it seemed way more appropriate than freaking BlitzGreymon - but nope.
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Oh well. Koushirou still saves the day. The people at home get to see the Crest of Knowledge take over their screens, hopefully giving rise to the idea that a nerd superhero is protecting them. Koushirou is the hero we deserve.
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The satellite falls into the water. I was like, shouldn’t that cause a tsunami lol?
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... be careful what you wish for >_>;
fortunately people were evacuated soooo things will be okay.
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He did it!! He’s so happy! AlturKabuterimon’s triumphant holler is adorable.
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Taichi and BlitzGreymon fought hard OFF SCREEN!! OFF SCREEN!! HIP HIP HOORAY! And then we get to see him leaning on Sora T_T could this episode give me any more perfect moments?? Looooove it
So yeah, if you can’t tell, I’m thrilled with this episode. There are just a couple things I would have liked to improve: better animation, at least one palpable heart to heart between Taichi and Koushirou, or just a bit more time spent explictly in Koushirou’s head - but honestly we got something that is pretty darn good, especially for this reboot. I hope we do get more like this, both for Koushirou and for the others. I hope the growth here isn’t forgotten moving forward. I really, REALLY want to see more of that “I lead, you support me - you lead, I support you” mutually beneficial relationship that is the foundation of Taishiro <3
So next week! Mimi’s back and the heads are gonna roll!
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Lmao!
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My theory that she’s finding crystals to make Crests seems unlikely to be the case now that we know the rocks constract the rock Digimon. But... hey, we’ll find out next week.
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Also Taichi’s gonna make this face after talking with Mimi bahahahaha. I can’t wait.
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panharmonium · 4 years
Text
...and damn the consequences
These are just some thinky-thoughts that I suppose could be an addendum to this old piece about Morgana, since I saw a couple of different discussion threads in that general vein in the tag a while back, and you know reading about this show always gets my brain going. :)
Most of what I ran into was written with the intention of shifting the blame for Morgana's issues away from Merlin, which is something I appreciate, personally - I've talked plenty myself about the myriad reasons why Merlin does not owe Morgana his secret and does not deserve "blame" for the things she does.  
But when the blame is shifted (rightly) away from Merlin, it does sometimes end up getting pushed onto others.  And while I do understand where that impulse comes from, I actually tend to approach this from a slightly different perspective, so since I don't think I've ever typed up anything about this particular subject before, I figured I might as well set down a few potential things to consider about a) Morgana (in relation to Gaius, specifically), and b) the more general question of "the blame" (and whether it's really a productive line of discussion, given that the question only has one legitimate answer, for me, at least).
disclaimer, as always: these are just my own thoughts, and nobody is obligated to share them!  If my particular perspective isn't interesting to you, don't worry about it - I'm just hanging out talking to myself on my own blog, so feel free to scroll past and continue interpreting the show in whatever way is most enjoyable for you!
i. my favourite patient is always welcome
So, first of all - some thoughts about Gaius.
I was really surprised at how infrequently Gaius appeared, when I first started poking around in the fandom.  For such a major character, and for someone who is such a huge part of Merlin's life, I definitely thought he would be more prominent, but essentially the sorts of posts I've seen about him are mostly restricted to two things: 1) memes, and 2) call-outs (he's in a very similar position to Kilgharrah, in that way).   
I don't necessarily think those things do him justice, and there’s a lot more we could talk about when it comes to his character, but for now, the only thing I'm really interested in working on is maybe adding some nuance to the perpetual question of Gaius, Morgana, Merlin, and "the blame."  
(For clarity’s sake: nothing that follows necessarily means that Gaius makes the “right” decisions.  The entire point of his character's history is in fact his failure to always do the right thing - see: Kilgharrah's line where he tells Gaius to “do nothing," because “that is, after all, your talent."  What I’m saying in the section that follows is just that there's more to consider about the choices Gaius makes than “he's a coward.")
So - some things to consider, when we think about Gaius and Morgana:  
1) One thing I'm not always sure people realize about this show is that neither Gaius nor Merlin knows that Morgana has magic until 2.03.  
And I definitely can see why people don’t necessarily realize it, because as we all know this show can be a little haphazard/loosey-goosey with its worldbuilding, but just to help clarify: until 2.03, Gaius does not know that Morgana has magic.  He knows that "some of the things she dreamt" have indicated certain future events (NOT all of them, importantly - more on that later), but her dream-visions are also specifically stated to be a separate gift from sorcery - dream-visions and magic are clearly established to be different things in this show, and prior to 2.03, Morgana has only ever demonstrated one of these abilities.  
At the end of 1.07, Merlin asks, "Is she like me?  Does she have the gift?" and Gaius's response is, "I hope not, for her sake."  Earlier, he also says, "The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic," indicating that the two things are, in fact, different abilities (if equally dangerous ones, in Uther's eyes).  “It's said to be an innate ability.  Those who have it are born that way.”  Whereas magic, in the Merlin-verse, is a learned skill.  We spend so much time around Merlin that we tend to transfer his experience to all other magic-users, but we have to remember that Merlin, in this world, is directly stated to be unique.  He uses magic without spells, without study; he tells Gaius he was born doing it.  But when Gaius hears Merlin say this, his response is, "That's impossible."  It's not something that happens.  
In the Merlin BBC-verse, people can be born with the "gift" - the ability to use magic - but their magic doesn't just manifest on its own.  What happens to Merlin (being able to use magic "before he could talk," with no training and no spells) and Morgana (starting a fire accidentally) is NOT something that is indicated to ever happen to other magic-possessors.  We aren't being introduced to a world where magical children will automatically start manifesting their magic in dangerous ways unless they're trained to use their abilities (ie, the X-Men model, or the Force-sensitive child model, where choosing not to teach someone is automatically irresponsible ).  Magic, as presented to us in this show, is something that cannot be used without training or specific spells/power-amplifying artifacts.  Merlin (and, later, Morgana) are exceptions to a universal rule.
And this is just something to keep in mind, because it does provide some context for Gaius's decisions.  It doesn't mean people have to agree with the choices he makes - it doesn't even mean *I* always agree with the choices he makes, to be honest - but I do think it's worthwhile to at least remember that Gaius doesn't make his decisions thoughtlessly.  As far as Gaius knows, even if Morgana did have magic, there is no way that it could ever manifest and become an issue for her without her being trained.  If she doesn't learn how to use magic, she can't use it, period.  And if she can't use it, no one will ever know she has it.  And if no one ever knows she has it, no one can ever kill her for it.  
(Once we hit 2.03, the conversation changes, obviously.  It becomes clear that Morgana is some kind of anomaly as well, and at that point, the only appropriate path forward is to tell her she has magic.)
(Which is, of course, precisely what Merlin does.)
2) According to the show, only "some of" Morgana's dreams have actually played out in real life; others have just been regular nightmares (and we see later on that even some of her prophetic dreams are vague to the point of incomprehensibility - eg, she dreams about a raven in 2.01, but how would she ever know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all, barring external context?)  Some of the risk/benefit analysis on Gaius's part has to take this problem into account - what if he did tell her that some of her dreams might be prophecies?  There would be no way for anyone to sort out which ones were real and which ones were just nightmares.  And Gaius has known Morgana all her life - he knows what she's like; he knows how headstrong she is.  She would assume all of her dreams were real, and she would act on all of them, because what if the one time she ignored a dream, something bad happened to someone she cares about?  
Gaius is familiar enough with Morgana to know with absolute certainty that this is what she would do.  And he knows that this could SO easily end up getting her killed, either by Uther, who would quickly figure out that something was going on, or by the sheer dangers associated with Morgana throwing herself into confrontations based only on uncertain visions (or worse, regular old dreams).
3) We also have to think about what this show tells us about prophecy in general.  Trying to act on prophetic information, in this world, is firmly established as a dangerous game, one which, more often than not, ends up directly causing the outcomes one was trying to prevent.  Trying to change the future, in the BBC Merlin universe, backfires on people every single time.  In 2.10, the Crystal of Neahtid is framed as holding "a terrible power," and Merlin knows instinctively that "no good [will] come of it," even as he feels compelled to look into it.  In 3.05, Gaius himself says of the Crystal Cave that "the crystals are treacherous," and Kilgharrah says that "to change the future is no simple matter, Merlin.  To do so is fraught with danger."  In Season 5, of course, we all know what happens with Merlin's attempts to prevent Mordred from killing Arthur - it ensures Arthur's death!  And that's not even mentioning all the collateral damage it causes - Kara's execution, Mordred and Morgana’s eventual deaths, etc.
I thought I could alter the future, but instead, I caused it.  I made it happen.
What you did was dangerous, even for someone as gifted as you.
These are truths about the universe in the BBC Merlin world, not Gaius's personal opinions.  Gaius had been brought up steeped in the rules of the Old Religion; he knows how that world works.  The risk posed by Morgana interpreting all of her dreams as prophecies (and the absolute certainty that she would constantly attempt to alter their outcomes) is not a trivial concern or something he should ignore.  It is real, significant, and extremely dangerous, for both Morgana and the people around her.
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So in general, I do think there's a broader context to what Gaius does than we typically look at.  I'm not saying that it isn't a sticky situation, and I'm not even saying that Gaius makes the right calls.  All I'm saying is that I think it's worth acknowledging that the decisions he makes are a) always sincerely intended to protect Morgana from a number of very real dangers, not just Uther, and b) founded on more than simple cowardice or carelessness.
ii. of course what really matters is the blame / someone you can blame
More generally -
Whenever I see discussion circulating about Morgana’s descent into villainy, occasionally the conversation can start to feel to me a little bit like that scene in Into the Woods where all the characters start going "so it's HER fault/HIS fault/YOUR fault" as they backtrack further and further along the chain of events and tear apart every single character's innocuous decisions (the consequences of which could not possibly have been foreseen) in order to escape any scrap of personal responsibility, until the Witch interrupts their bickering and rips them a new one for worrying so much about who to blame when they have a real problem to solve.
These blame-placing conversations about Morgana, much like this scene, are interesting and enjoyable to think about in their own ways, but they rarely get quite where I want them to go.  I definitely love seeing people articulate the "we shouldn't blame Merlin for what Morgana does" angle, but things often then slide into "we should blame X person instead", where X person is Kilgharrah or Morgause or Gaius or Uther or whoever.  
And for me, that analysis doesn’t quite hit the mark.  The correct endpoint of "we shouldn't hold Merlin responsible for Morgana's actions" isn't "we should hold X person responsible instead."  The correct endpoint is "the only person responsible for Morgana's actions is Morgana."
The last time I wrote about Morgana like this, I mentioned that ultimately, the difference between Merlin and Morgana for me is that Merlin owns his choices.  He feels guilt, he expresses regret, he apologizes for his mistakes, and he blames himself for his missteps (as well as for other things that aren't remotely his fault).  Morgana, on the other hand, never apologizes for anything (despite the fact that she's made plenty of mistakes worth regretting), and sometimes it feels like in fandom we don't necessarily expect her to do so, as if it's a benchmark we don't need her to meet.
So because I really do have strong feelings about the double standard we use when it comes to Merlin and Morgana, I want to talk for a minute here about Merlin and Gaius’s relationship, to provide a comparison.
Morgana isn't the only person who's had important information about her parentage and potential abilities withheld from her.  Gaius hides both Merlin's dragonlord heritage and the identity of Merlin's father all the way until the end of Season 2, when necessity forces him to reveal the information.  Merlin's mother, for her own part, has been hiding this information from Merlin all his life - out of valid fears for Merlin's own safety, of course, the same way Gaius is trying to protect Morgana.  But still, from Merlin's point of view, in the moment when the information is revealed to him, the justification offered by his guardians is unacceptable.  He is angry and upset, and he feels cheated out of knowledge he deserved to have, the absence of which has negatively affected him all his life.  “I had a right to know,” he keeps saying, on the verge of tears.
Has Merlin been harmed by the choices his guardians made for him, even if said choices were made to protect him?  Yes.  Does he have a right to feel hurt, betrayed, and angry?  Yes.  Is he entitled to every ounce of his righteous rage?  Absolutely.  
Is he also responsible for how he reacts, now that the information has been revealed?  YES.
Merlin has no say in what his parental figures do to him in the name of protecting him, and he has no choice about how it makes him feel.  He does, however, have a choice about what actions he will now take in response.  He can react in a way that hurts others, or he can choose a path of lesser harm.  And there's plenty we can say to justify both options, certainly, but either way, the decision he makes is on him.  
What that means, in short, is this: Merlin is not responsible for what was done to him.  But he is responsible for what he himself does next.  
The same goes for Morgana.  In absolutely no universe would we classify Merlin's behavior as acceptable if he'd reacted to the revelation of his Dragonlord heritage by assassinating Uther, claiming the throne for himself in the name of his murdered kin, and then shooting innocent civilians in the street when the knights refused to recognize his legitimacy.  We would never say that was okay.  And we definitely wouldn't then blame Merlin's downfall on Gaius, saying it was Gaius's fault for withholding information about Merlin's powers for so long.  The choice to act in a harmful way would still be Merlin's, in that situation.
The same standard holds true for Morgana - particularly when she has access to resources that Merlin can't even dream about.  She is rich, beyond his wildest fantasies.  One of her dresses costs more than everything Merlin has ever owned in his life - his house, his land, his livestock, every bushel of wheat he's ever harvested.  She isn't the 1% in comparison to Merlin; she's the 0.0000001% - a princess in all but but name, and one who would presumably be heir to her father's entire estate in addition to everything she already has in Camelot.  
Morgana has the wealth to go anywhere she wants, including places where magic is practiced freely (see Helva, as mentioned in S5).  She has the prestige to affiliate herself with powerful people outside of Camelot, if she chooses to do so.  Any person in her position would have a broad, high-status network of friends and allies, and indeed we do see that Morgana has political ties outside Uther's court (see: how easily she's able to go to Cenred, Agravaine, Annis in Seasons 3/4 and be admitted, recognized, and trusted, as well as her repeated ability to recruit and/or take command of external armies).  
She could leave Camelot if she wanted, learn about her abilities, and build a life for herself elsewhere.  She could stay in Camelot and use her considerable resources to work toward her people's liberation, without indiscriminately murdering and enslaving the innocent poor.  She could seek out other magic-users like Alator in the spirit of true solidarity, as opposed to just using them as tools to get what she wants and then turning on them when they decide that they don’t want to use her sort of tactics to achieve their liberation.  She has hundreds of options, none of which necessarily even require her to forgive or reconcile with the people who harmed her, and none of which are even remotely open to Merlin, who (like Morgana) is still learning about his own abilities, and who (unlike Morgana) has no money, no social power, and no connections that he can leverage or lean upon, besides a tiny village of dirt-poor peasant farmers on the other side of the border with Cenred's kingdom.
Morgana has options.  The choices she makes are hers.  Gaius's decision not to tell her about her dreams is not equivalent to her receiving a blank check for harmful behavior.  She has so many resources.  She has so much power.  She could have chosen so many other paths - like Merlin tries to plead with her, in the crypt, after he tells her that he does not believe she deserves to be executed, despite what she's done: “We can find another way.”
She's the one who says, “There is no other way.”  She makes that decision.  She chooses to dismiss the thousand other paths available to her.  
That's on her.  That is always going to be on her.
iii. i'm going to give you one more chance
This last section...it’s more just a muddle of feels-riddled musing as opposed to a real opinion.  It's not something that has a right answer or a solution; it's just something I ponder sometimes.  
When we talk about harm being done in the real world, we talk about how intentions don't matter.  And that is absolutely true, in terms of both the impact of harmful actions and the harm-doer's responsibility to own what they did/make restitution.  If someone knocks you down, and you break your arm, the impact of that event doesn't change depending on whether the person in question did it on purpose or not.  Your arm's still broken, either way.  Intent doesn't matter, in terms of impact and responsibility - the actual harm done is the same, and the person who knocked you down should still be apologizing and making amends, regardless of whether they intended for you to fall or not.  
However - intent does matter when you're considering the future of your relationship with the person who knocked you down.  It affects how you react to what they did.  It changes how you respond to their actions.  If someone threw you to the ground on purpose, you'd (probably) feel differently about that than if a friend knocked you down because they were trying to pull you out of the way of an oncoming vehicle, or because they were carrying too many things in their arms and didn't see you turn the corner.
I think about this sometimes when it comes to Morgana and Merlin.
I don't want to frame this as "Morgana should have forgiven everybody who hurt her," because I don't think that's the case.  I've written before about how I fully understand her reasons for ultimately rejecting Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, Gaius, etc.  She's not required to reconcile with anybody if she doesn't want to.
At the same time, though, I do wonder sometimes about intent.  And sometimes I ask myself how things might have been different if Morgana had considered intent, before things went completely to hell, and whether the story’s ultimate outcome might have changed, if she had given even just one of these people a chance.
Morgana has plenty of reasons extend some degree of understanding to the people who caused her pain.  The vast majority of the people who caused Morgana harm did so either a) out of love, in a sincere attempt to protect her from being killed, b) without any knowledge of the fact that she needed help, or c) after they thought she was attempting to kill everybody in the city.  Everything Gaius ever conceals from her is concealed with the intention of keeping her safe.  Arthur knows absolutely nothing about Morgana's parentage until after Morgana has already violently invaded Camelot, and he knows nothing about her prophecies/magic, either.  Gwen, too, is never told anything about Morgana's parentage or her magic, even though Gwen supports Morgana when Morgana thinks her dreams might be sorcery.  And Morgana never comes to Merlin for help, despite his demonstrated support in 2.03 - what he does later, in 2.11, is a response to him legitimately thinking that she is actively trying to kill everyone in Camelot.  When she comes back a year later, he forgives her for it immediately, and when he realizes she has turned against them again, he STILL tries to talk her around, to offer his hand.  
So I think about that sometimes.  And I wonder what would have happened if Morgana had chosen to recognize things like this.  Merlin, for his own part, always chooses to recognize things like this when it comes to the people who've done him wrong (and by this I do not mean to say that his response is always the best one - I'm not talking about him consistently allowing Arthur to continue oppressing him and his community, here.  I'm talking about him, on an interpersonal level, being able to recognize when the people who've harmed him did so in an attempt to keep him safe, or without fully understanding the potential consequences of their actions.)  
Merlin understands that his mother lied about Balinor and the dragonlords in an attempt to protect him, and he continues to love her in spite of the fact that the deception legitimately hurt him.  He understands when Gaius gives Finna up to Arthur, because he know that Gaius sincerely believed her to be a trap laid by Morgana.  He understands many of the things Morgana does, too, and he gives her all kinds of chances - he knows why she tries to kill Uther in 1.11, and he holds no grudge.  He knows she tried to steal the Crystal of Neahtid in 2.10, and again he holds no grudge - he doesn't even suspect her, at the beginning of the next episode, when the entire city falls asleep.  He forgives her in 3.01 after she (as far as he knows) tried to kill the entire city at the end of the previous season, and even after she reveals herself to be a traitor in 3.02, he tells her he doesn't believe she deserves to be executed for who she is.  He still feels for her.  He still understands.  He wants to connect with her.
And, admittedly, neither Morgana nor Merlin are obligated to extend this kind of understanding to the people who've harmed them.  The impact of the harmful actions is the same, and Morgana doesn't have to give her friends a chance if she doesn’t want to.  She doesn't have to consider their intentions.
But she could have.  And I think that in some of these situations, there are compelling reasons why she should have.  
It's important to me to recognize that Morgana's choice not to ever consider her friends' intentions, particularly when it comes to people like Gwen, who didn't even understand what was going on and who were given no chance to prove their willingness to help Morgana before Morgana attacked first - completely obstructs the possibility of making amends, working things out together, making a connection, or seeking a more positive outcome.  Morgana’s actions come out of nowhere, for most of the people who know her.  She starts trying to kill them before they ever even know anything is wrong.  She doesn’t give them a chance to help her.
And she doesn’t have to, certainly.  But I wonder sometimes what things would have looked like if she had.
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akira-emberheart · 3 years
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songs I'd like to assign to the glee kids (part I)
Note: I'm pretty well known for making playlists and more playlists, and ever since seeing this post by @cracktastic about assigning, for the 100th episode, the least expected song to the least expected character, I've found myself craving to hear specific characters sing specific songs.
(I've also started another separate list to add on to that post I mentioned, but that will be a post for another day)
So after going through my music library, I came up with a small list of songs for each character that I would love to hear them sing, for various reasons, which i'll do my best to explain.
This got really long really fast, because I like to get into meta and over analyze - I'm also just very passionate about music. For that reason, I'll do 5 songs at a time for a specific character, and I'll be putting a read more.
Also, please be gentle with me - I've watched Glee a year ago, and it's entirely possible I may be missing or confusing scenes and storylines in my head. If I do, let me know!
If you read this and find yourself thinking of songs and scenarios as well, do share them with me! I'm working on actual Spotify Playlists as well.
So let's get into it -
for Kurt Hummel
> Re: Stacks by Bon Iver
"This is not the sound of a new man
or crispy realization
It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be
Safe with me"
This is probably one of my favorite songs ever, and I first thought about it for Kurt after realising how beautiful his voice would sound in it, because of its crystal clear and poised quality. (I liked it so much I included it in a scene on my fanfic too).
If you don't know Bon Iver, or the history of this song, it's the last track in an album full of more..."depressing" songs. It's also the one that has a throughout tone of hope, of recovery after a hard ordeal, of taking some first steps to a better place.
I imagine it would be a good song for him around the time he meets Blaine - when the Karovsky situation is nearly over, and he starts looking back on his school year - Burt's heart attack, the bullying - and, now with Blaine in his life, and a renewed self confidence, he's finally able to confidently step into a better phase of his life and heal from all he went through.
I see this one being sung in a quiet moment of reflection, when he's alone. Maybe in the choir room, or even outdoors in a nice garden. In my fanfic I wrote it in a different context, in Blaine's room at night, so I guess that works in my head too.
***
> Enchanted by Taylor Swift
"I'm wonderstruck
Blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you"
I'm very fascinated with Kurt's whole storyline in S2 - things start off so rough for him, but when Blaine comes along, and when Kurt is able to grow and shift more and assuming the person he really is, things start looking up. I chose this song for what it promises, and also because I can imagine it in Kurts lower singing register and it seems like a good one for him. Also, yes, I was a kid who owned Speak Now. Sue me.
This song is about first meeting someone very special, and that happens to be the beginning of Klaine. With the almost whispered lyrics, the slowly crescent ambiance and rhythm, it really encapsulates the feeling of everything stopping when you lay eyes in that one special person, and the flooding rush of emotions that happens right after.
Kurt had no idea how much an unsuspecting visit to a rival show coir school would change his life, even less in the midst of the situation he was in. It also seems fitting for Kurt and his early relationship with Blaine because of some specific lyrics ("This is me praying now / This was the very first page / Not where the storyline ends"). Enchanted tells the story of a special first meeting, and hints at something special to come, from the perspective of someone who is awestruck for someone.
Like the one above, this one would fit in early S2, possibly in EP6, after Kurt and Blaine's meeting at Dalton Academy. When he's back home, alone in his room, daydreaming, or when he's back at McKinley in that same afternoon.
***
> Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles
"Oooh, how am I gonna get over you? I'll be alright, just not tonight But someday. Hey, I wish you'd want me to stay I'll be alright, just not tonight"
My main reason for choosing this one is because I think it fits very very well with Kurt's voice, and musical taste - its a very vibrant and poppy song, despite the more depressing theme - a post breakup promise of getting over it.
I first thought of it for S4, soon after the Breakup™, but paying close attention to the lyrics (I do tend to get stuck on just the melody sometimes), it makes more sense to place this on during the S6 Breakup - when Kurt finds out about Blaine dating Karovsky, after deciding he wants Blaine back.
So it's a hard situation for him, as we see from his breakdown in the bathroom (poor Kurt!), and he really has to come to terms with the mistakes he made (and the mistakes they both made as a couple), pick himself up, and move on.
I imagine this one being sung during an outing with Rachel, when she's trying to cheer him up and lift him up a little from his depression. My brain readily produces an image of a sunny street or a shopping mall that the two of them walk through, Kurt with some nice vivid colored clothes, finally being able to smile and ready to perhaps start moving on, or at least ready to start considering he will be okay.
***
> Killer Queen by Queen
"She keeps her Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
"Let them eat cake", she says
Just like Marie Antoinette"
This song just reminds me of Kurt. It's one of my all time favorites from Queen, and ever since watching Glee, these two are just connected in my mind. Voice wise, Kurt could definitely handle it.
It's apparently about a "high class prostitute"(? Freddie's word's, not mine), but still paints a pretty and dainty picture, and you can almost picture a porcelain faced lady in her best clothes, delicately smoking a cigarette. It also contains words that probably only Kurt can pronounce out of everyone in the glee club.
Many Queen songs were sung on Glee, but I don't think there was ever a Queen episode. For this one, I suggest a headcanon scenario, maybe during S3, when Mr. Shuester decides to have a Queen week - and Kurt isn't known for going with the obvious choices. He wants to be classy, edgy and impressive, and he sings in front of everyone, half in the choir room, half in the auditorium, perhaps with some fancy decoration and dancers behind him.
***
> The Answer by Kodaline
"You might think you found the one
Until your heart gets ripped and torn
Yeah, I used to feel bad, I used to feel like that
I still feel a bit like that"
This is another one that I picked immediately solely based on Kurt's voice - I really do like his voice with just a quiet, discrete instrumental. Looking into it further, I decided it could really work for Kurt's character.
I didn't go very deep into the intended meaning of the song, because it definitely has space for different interpretations. I choose to go with the breakup one. These lyrics here reminded me a little of the S4 breakup storyline - "We all fall down from the highest clouds / to the lowest ground" - makes me think how well Kurt's life was going once he arrived in New York, with the internship, his apartment situation with Rachel, a new and exciting place where he could freely be himself... and then he's completely blindsided by Blaine's cheating. He goes from being ecstatic and excited at Blaine's appearance, looking forward to share with him all the great things he just discovered, when Blaine's confession sends him to a well of despair, doubt and loneliness. The lyrics "You might think you found the one / until your heart gets ripped and torn" - reinforce the whole situation.
I can see him singing this not long after the breakup, on one more sleepless night, maybe walking alone through the streets of New York, or maybe in a montage of his busy daily routine, while he just gets through the day with a whole lot of emptiness weighing on his chest.
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gay-cartoon-stan · 5 years
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Why the “Corrupted Steven Theory” is more likely than it seems at first
Okay, you probably think that this theory is very unlikely, and it won’t happen in Steven Universe Future. But hear me out, I thought so at first as well, just like I thought the “Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond”-Theory was a stretch. But guess what? It turned out to be true, so I gave this theory the benefit of doubt and now I’m convinced that it could become canon as well!
In the beginning, I was unsure but intrigued by this theory and read some posts. Steven Universe Future means a lot to me, I related to Steven Universe a lot already and kind of grew up with it in the past few years. Now, seeing how Steven deals with deeply rooted problems and his mental health issues hit close to home for me. So, obviously, I searched through the tags very much.
Unfortunately, the actual theories with proof are scattered all around Tumblr with almost no coordination, even within “#corrupted Steven theory” that is full of fan art (which I enjoy a lot btw!!). And I had to search through a lot of posts to see the full picture of possibilities this theory has, so I decided to make a master post for you guys. It’s not that much of a stretch when you put all of it in one big master-post, for those who don’t want to search for as long as I did.
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WARNING: This will be a very long post!
Now first off, I heard many people say that this would be too dark for the show. And while this is a children’s show, Steven Universe already had way darker episodes. Here are some examples:
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Previous Theories in Steven Universe
I searched for some previous theories for the original Steven Universe cartoon and pulled up a few popular theories from the Cartoon Network YouTube videos. Let’s start off with some of them that were proven wrong later on in the series.
3 Theories that were more based on feeling right than proof and turned out to be wrong
-         Gems start out as babies
-         Sardonyx’s identity
-         Ruby is blind
First off, everyone assumed that Gems are quite similar to humans. Now, these theories were created in the first season of Steven Universe, when we didn’t know a whole lot about Gems, yet. Rebecca Sugar started the show by telling us to “expect the unexpected” like expecting to have Gems be quite similar to humans.
When we heard of a new voice actor, most immediately assumed it to be a new gem or a fusion of new gems. But instead, it was Sardonyx, a fusion between garnet and Pearl. Rebecca likes to explore new possibilities by combining already established things: Like making a completely new character out of two well-known gems.
I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen in Steven Universe Future, this epilogue will deal with big concepts that we already know. It would make no sense to have something entirely new in the epilogue, when we already have some unanswered questions left, like the true nature of corruption.
5 Theories that were based proof rather than “feeling canon” and turned out true (even though they seemed like a stretch)
-         Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond
-         There are multiples of every gem
-         All monsters were once gems
-         Ronaldo’s theories are right
-         Garnet is a fusion
Theories like the one of Pink Diamond were very unpopular and I’m sure almost no one believed Ronaldo in the beginning: they were unpopular or controversial at the time. But all of these theories turned out true, so don’t just shoot down a theory because it seems unlikely at first. On further examination, theories that seem like a stretch at first, actually, make a lot of sense.
Foreshadowing and symbolism about Rose Quartz actually being Pink Diamond were already planted in the beginning, look at the first song about Cookie Cat by Steven in the very first episode for example.
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So, even if it seems unlikely that Steven will become corrupted in Steven Universe Future, that won’t stop Rebecca from making it canon. But if she planned it, there had to be a lot of proof for that, too. And there is a lot that could be interpreted as a connection between Stevens, his mental health and corruption!
That brings us to my next point:
 Steven’s Mental health
In the limited series, Steven is shown to bottle up his feelings a lot and has developed some harmful coping habits, as shown in Episode 10: “Prickly Pair”.
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Steven is already known for not dealing with his own problems, trying not to think about them instead of being honest about how bad it feels so he can move on, as shown in “Mindful Education”, which was the fourth episode of Season 4, so even before the “Wanted” and “Diamond Days” arcs.
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There even is a whole episode revolving around Amethyst trying to help Steven with his feeling about his mother after it’s revealed that she actually is Pink Diamond, but he just keeps reflecting and wants to help her instead.
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Now, the synopsis tells us that “as he runs out of other people’s problems to solve, he’ll finally have to face his own” which confirms again that he didn’t deal with his own emotions, yet. So, now he feels lost because he feels useless now in addition to years of undealt trauma. Just look at his monologue in the last episode!
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But why didn’t he deal with his own mental well-being yet? Because he’s scared because all of his experience in the last years were very traumatic for a teenager? Not to mention that he wasn’t even 14 when the series started off. Even the Crystal Gems, who are supposed to be way more mature than him, struggled multiple times within the series. Garnet even split up two times.
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He’s scared because he doesn’t know what to do now that he can’t help the people around him anymore, everyone around him changes for the better and knows how to help themselves and what they want to do in the future. Everyone except Steven.
 Steven vs Steven
All of his human friends change way faster than he can deal with, so one would think that he could at least relate to the Gems with the struggle of accepting change, right? NO! He’s growing up, he changed in the last couple of years. And while it’s too slow for the humans around him, it’s too fast for the Crystal Gems since they’ve been around for thousands of years.
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Even though the whole universe is changing, he still has problems as a hybrid between gems and humans. He struggled for years to fit in with the Gems, while he was always too much “Gem” to be understood by fully humans. For example, even his best friend and his dad don’t include him as a “human being” in Season 2, where he was just starting to be respected by the Gems as a part of the Crystal Gems. So, he didn’t really fit in with either species even back then. Out of stress, it caused him to clutch his gem, also because it is the thing that will always set him apart from other humans.
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For years, he could at least relate to Amethyst. They shared a kindred spirit as fellow "worst Gems" who, in Steven's words are "not like anybody". Now even she found her own personal purpose while he is as confused as ever.
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 Becoming like someone “bad”
Not only that, in his attempt to be nothing like his mother, since he still has a complicated relationship with her (see: the whole Episode “Rose Buds”), he slowly becomes more and more the person she used to be. He doesn’t want to confront that, but he’s still scared of his new powers that remind Volleyball of Pink Diamond.
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But it’s not only her, but Steven also begins to act like the diamonds in general: He ordered people (like Amethyst and Jasper) around.
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Just like the punishment by Blue Diamond for Pink, Steven imprisoned Cactus Steven (a metaphor for himself, his mental health, and his problems) with barely enough light to survive. Both Pink Diamond and Cactus Steven didn’t know how to act any better. Cactus Steven was just learning from the only role model he got, but Steven was too angry to try to understand. In Steven Universe, he even tried to understand a literal monster and befriended Centipeetle aka corrupted Nephrite, but now he can’t even communicate with his own creation, sentient humanoid cactus.
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He spent years trying to fight the ways the Great Diamond Authority worked, but now he takes after them. And whether he is ready to confront this or not, he can’t help but see how he changes to a person he never wanted to be.
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 No Control
He just got new powers that seemingly only Pink Steven really had control over and struggles even more than before. Steven could do a similar bubble, but never actually did it in a symmetrical way or in the shape of a dome, like his gem half could do seemingly with ease.
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But since his powers are connected to his emotion (which react to his new and old problems) it’s no wonder that he’s getting out of control. This new pink side of him is linked to extreme stress (or anger) and using powers only his fully-gem half could do before.
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We already saw him losing full control over his bubble (trapping someone) and shapeshifting/ageing, where he almost died.
In the first season, he trapped Connie in his protective bubble, which only dissolved after he talked with her. He subconsciously trapped her in there because he didn’t want her to leave again before he got the chance to give the bracelet back.
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He lost control over his body a few times, for example, a few episodes after Bubble Buddies when his age-shifting powers get introduced. In a similar matter as before, his gem reacts to his feelings (here: his mental age) and acts accordingly. He almost dies in So Many Birthdays and Cat Fingers because of it.
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He already ended up trapping his friends in Episode 9 because of his new powers in connection to emotions. In Season One, he trapped Connie in his bubble in a similar matter.
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Next, he could be transforming his problems in himself externally again. We already saw that trauma inside of a gem can manifest in Volleyball as it was explained by the cracked eye.
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The creature could be an apparition, something Steven sees in dreams or hallucinations, rather than a physical manifestation at first, but most of the issues in Steven Universe, even if they’re just emotionally, evolved to become something physical. But even though this can be done in a couple of ways, corruption would make sense in Steven’s case.
 Corruption
Extreme emotional distress is linked to corruption as it seems to speed up corruption’s effects. Both Jasper’s and Centipeetle’s mental state affected the corruption process. As the bodies of Gems are mental projections, the bodies of corrupted Gems are a reflection of how damaged their minds are. Corruption’s damage is mental rather than physical, at least at its core.
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Just like their emotions affected their body, Steven’s powers got worse under stress. In Steven Universe Future, his mental health is worse than ever, so if he ever got corrupted, it would be in this epilogue series. He’s getting out of control form when he’s distressed or under extreme stress more than ever.
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There are no gems corrupted on Homeworld due to the lack of a Diamond blast. But even the other diamonds don’t understand the true nature of corruption completely, they didn’t even know that they corrupted these gems.
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But we, the audience, already know a couple things: Second-hand corruption can occur to a non-corrupted Gem through fusion with a corrupted one, while Nephrite described it as a "song" and remembering this seemed to be what triggered her to revert into her corrupted form.
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Corruption is linked to the mind of the gem and needs at least one diamond. Steven, who is a diamond, can probably corrupt other gems or himself without meaning to do so. If he loses control of the corruption-powers as well, it could very well be that he ends up accidentally corrupting himself.
But without addressing his issues, he won’t be able to reverse the effects of his subconsciously used gem powers. Pink Steven always worked this way in the past. His gem half reacts to the wishes from Steven’s human half very directly, like trapping all of his friends. And he treated his cactus-self badly, so also harming himself isn’t that far off. He already fought himself quite violently in Steven and the Stevens (which was Season One), but now he got even more problems with himself directly. What if his gem half reacts on that?
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 Corruption forms
While Steven’s trauma could manifest in a couple of ways, there are some similarities between the worm-like creature from the intro and Steven.
Of course, it doesn’t completely look like Steven, but consider how humanoid this creature’s face is in comparison to other corruptions in Steven Universe. Let’s take a look at the heads from the others in the corrupted and uncorrupted form.
Nephrite’s corrupted head has a flowing, light-cream coloured mane immediately behind her head that looks like her previous hairstyle. Aside from that and her colour scheme, her body completely changes because of corruption.
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Because of the corruption Jasper got spikes from multiple areas of her body now, but her hairstyle only changed to a mane around her neck and she kept the same skin tones.
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Ocean Jasper, similar to all Jaspers, kept her colour scheme (aside from corruption marks) and hairstyle/colour even while corrupted.
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Larimar’s head always had spikes on top, even though they became more. She still has her blue tones, even though it got a bit darker. Her body changed quite a bit and she got a lot bigger.
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So all in all we can say that a gem becomes bulkier and bigger while growing spikes. The placement of the gem barely changes at all. The colour scheme doesn’t really change, but the gem can have corruption marks.
I strongly believe that this thing a corrupted gem, since a completely alien species in the last act of the show makes no sense. Especially with the premise that this epilogue would focus on loose ends and Steven himself.
 Similarities between the Creature and Steven
Only this corruption has a human-like face shape and nose. But humans can’t corrupt, except for Steven. He has the same nose, a softer version of the face shape and is always drawn with 5 hair curves. Instead of that, this creature has 5 horns instead of Steven’s usual curls.
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Another dominant feature of this creature is the mouth shape. It’s a sharper version of a squiggly mouth that’s usually drawn when the character is stressed/worried. In the original series many characters were drawn with a mouth like that, but the only character who is frequently seen using a mouth like that in Steven Universe Future is Steven himself. Also, it is drawn quite sharp.
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Besides, both Cactus Steven and the Watermelon Stevens are known for a squiggly mouth form like that.
The Watermelon Stevens needed time to even become alive, and even more time until they got a mouth. After Steven send them away and they had to build their own community, they were drawn with a sharp mouth.
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Cactus Steven had a mouth, to begin with, it was very curvy drawn. But as the episode went on and Steven got more aggressive with him, it got sharper.
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Let’s move onto the body from the creature. It is massive, even bigger than White Diamond, and has spikes leading down his back. A gem would have to be very powerful, to begin with, to be able to become this big and spiky. Our Jasper, for example, was way bigger and har way more spikes than the average Jasper soldier.
Based on the size, I thought about a corrupted White Diamond at first, especially with her pink hue at the end of Change Your Mind. But she’s already on the intro screen, also pink, and she has her gem glowing on her forehead while the creature doesn’t have a visible one. That makes it seem more mysterious like something is surprising to discover here.
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Every gem except a diamond had the chance to be corrupted in the original blast. Steven’s gem placement would make sense, too, since you can’t see the stomach of the monster.
Not just the shapes, the colours are similar as well. When Steven reacts to stress, he gets angry and has a new, pink colour scheme. Even outside of turning pink, there are a lot of pink hues used in the scenes that include him.
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If he corrupts, it could get a bit darker similar to Larimar’s/Nephrite’s corruption form. And the colour scheme of the creature is a dark pink instead of purple without the blue, dark tint of the intro scene. We can see that if we look at Jaspers original colours and her skin tone in the intro.
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 Possible Foreshadowing / Symbolism
The body of the monster is full of spikes that resemble rose thorns. Roses were symbolism of Rose Quartz in Steven Universe. Now it could represent Steven’s internal insecurities about his mom since those are a big part of Steven Universe Future.
Like roses, horns and spiked were used throughout the original series. I’ve seen a lot of people point out Steven’s caterpillar sleeping bag, especially since the creature seems to have a caterpillar-like form. Also, honourable mentions are the horns in An Indirect Kiss and Steven’s design in Future Boy Zoltron looks very similar to the corruption in the intro.
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As I already mentioned, Steven lost control at the beginning of the original series since his powers were new to him. His shapeshifting powers got dangerous and he ended up trapping his friend Connie. In Steven Universe Future he got new powers again and loses control again, but just ended up trapping his friends and lost control over his dome-thingy.
If it will be like the original series, he will lose control over his body, too. Next, he would be transforming his problems in himself externally again, just like Cactus Steven ended up as a “monstrous version” of himself.
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Steven ended the Great Diamond Authority but can’t seem to defeat a cactus. That’s because Cactus Steven is a living metaphor for Steven himself, his mental health, and his problems. He can’t deal with his own feelings reflected back at him and gets hit in the face by it. Literally.
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Another metaphor for Steven is the plushie by Onion in A Very Special Episode, that resembles cookie cat mixed with Steven in a creepy way. Cookie cat was a very early symbol for the backstory of Rose / Pink Diamond and two halves of Steven. It could even move without being moved by Rainbow’s umbrella. A plushie was already an allegory for corruption and it’s most likely is a reference to Garnet’s explanation of corruption: “It’s sort of like if MC Bear-Bear didn’t tear the fabric of his arm, but the fabric of his mind.”
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The biggest plot twists in Steven Universe was predicted by Ronaldo early on, all of his big theories except People (Snake People) turned out true. He was convinced by the Great Diamond Authority theory after he saw the diamond on the USA dollar bill. Before that, he believed in Sneople. Snakes are on the other side of the bill. I think that Sneople are supposed to be corrupted gems.
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A few episodes in, Aquamarine and Eyeball-Ruby demanded that Steven should destroy his home, bubble his friends, and burn Little Homeword to the ground. Steven didn’t want to do that and won the fight with the gems against Bluebird, but later both of those events happened anyway. So, that may have been foreshadowing to future episodes when Little Homeschool actually gets destroyed. And that could happen if Steven actually self-corrupts and becomes the massive creature from the intro.
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The last important thing for possible corruption foreshadowing was that Nephrite described it as a "song". There is a lot of association between corruption and music. It’s clear Steven loves music a lot and deals with heavy themes mostly through songs. Most gems like Peridot didn’t even know what music was at first.
 Plot possibilities
All in all, it wouldn’t make sense to introduce something completely new now. Instead, the show would deal with big concepts that have already been established in a new way.
Self-corruption could be a plot device to represent his current struggles with mental state. It would make sense in the way Steven Universe functions but also for storytelling in Steven Universe Future.
Now, he has to deal with problems he accidentally created himself along the way. He has to deal with his feelings and finally sort them out. But that won’t happen until something drastic happens.
If Steven gets to a point where he corrupts himself, he will need help from others. And the person who could help him the most through that was Connie. She was always there for him, especially in the moments where he struggled with himself.
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That would explain Connie’s lack of screen time when she plays a major role later on. If the focus lays on Steven and Connie, they probably get together, too. The Crewniverse teased their relationship already a lot and after de-corrupting Steven, there would be a perfect opportunity for making them canon.
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   “After saving the universe, Steven is still at it, tying up every loose end. But as he runs out of other people’s problems to solve, he’ll finally have to face his own.”
After all those Seasons in the original series, this epilogue could show how Steven deals with his problems and that you can’t always blame your problems on someone else. Just as Pearl said once: “[Humans] want to blame all the world's problems on some single enemy they can fight, instead of a complex network of interrelated forces beyond anyone's control.”
 Other theories that are possible and/or popular right now
-         Steven will leave Beach City at the end of Steven Universe Future
-         Steven loses an eye
-         Steven-fusion will split up
 References or sources? (and a few others, but I can’t find them anymore so rip me)
https://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/189151877094/have-you-seen-the-leaked-trailer
https://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/188153524489/on-the-corruptedsteven-theory
https://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/189304112304/novantinuums-corrupted-steven-theory
https://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/189560459059/find-your-center-your-very-core-remember-your
https://backinbizmuth.tumblr.com/post/189991650603/su-mini-theory-steven-will-corrupt-himself-after
https://drawloverlala.tumblr.com/post/188219448551/hehe-about-the-corrupted-steven-theory-that-he
https://sal108.tumblr.com/post/189160278143/so-about-that-suf-promo-that-leaked-on-steven
https://alexorcism.tumblr.com/post/189801984533/look-im-just-saying
https://lifeiskorrasami.tumblr.com/post/189417484385/ever-noticed-that-pink-also-has-the-horn-spike
https://gay-cartoon-stan.tumblr.com/post/189928744648/is-no-one-but-me-concerned-that-steven-looks-more
https://badartbysomeguy.tumblr.com/post/189928770039/so-cactus-steven-is-spouting-all-of-stevens 
https://somelazyassartist.tumblr.com/post/189688736598/wait-hold-up
https://viibecheeck.tumblr.com/post/189676375245/stop-it-rebecca-what-are-you-trying-to-say
https://celly-does-art.tumblr.com/post/189982116768/some-of-yall-i-dont-think-steven-is-going-to
https://unexpectedchair.tumblr.com/post/189928860906/corrupted-steven-theory-whos-going-to-be-able-to
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keelywolfe · 4 years
Text
FIC: Boogie Shoes (baon)
Summary: Andy Jeff really isn't one to celebrate his birthday, but when you have someone like Stretch for a best friend, what's a guy supposed to do?
Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Found Family, Friendship
Notes:  I like to write a short for my birthday as sort of a present for all my readers, but this year there is Stuff going on so I'm posting a couple days early. 😁
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
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Read it on AO3
or
Read it here!
~~*~~
Jeff was concentrating so hard on the spreadsheet in front of him that the knock on his office door made him jump, banging his knee on his desk.
“Come in,” he called, rubbing his wounded leg. The door opened to reveal not Catty with more work, as expected, but Stretch, carrying what Jeff sincerely hoped was an iced mocha latte with his name on it.
“heya, handy andy,” Stretch set the cup down carefully away from the laptop and Jeff took it gratefully. He seriously loved his job, but everyone could use a quick coffee break from time to time. “i came up to pester my shorter half and thought i’d stop and say hi.”
“If you come bearing caffeine, you can visit any day of the week.” Jeff took a sip and couldn’t hold back an appreciative groan. The Beanery knew its coffee, for sure, and they made their own mocha syrup in house. Perfection in a recyclable cup.
Stretch plopped down in the only other chair in the office, propping his untied sneakers on the corner of Jeff’s desk and Jeff let him, payment for the tasty goodness. “so. right to brass tacks…tacts? who the hell came up with that phrase…anyway, a little bird told me your birthday was coming up.”
“A little bird?” Jeff said dryly. He saved his spreadsheet and pushed his laptop aside; this conversation might require actual attention before he got swept away in some kind of crazy scheme. Been there, done that, lost an eyebrow to prove it. “More like the cat who should’ve gotten your tongue.” Catty was a gossip of astonishing breadth and commitment.
��could be,” Stretch grinned, “but hey, birthdays only happen once in a blue moon, didn’t wanna miss the boat, you’re the apple of my eye, don’t wanna be a fair-weather friend—”
“Enough,” Jeff laughed. “Before I run out of here like a bat out of hell. What did you have in mind?”
Stretch dropped his feet back to the floor and sat up so straight Jeff could hear the joints in his spine pop in protest. “as your best bud, i’m pretty sure i’m supposed to throw you a party or something. didn’t want to go the surprise route, ‘cause as fun as that sounds to me, i kinda think you need to feel out that sort of thing before you plan it. don’t have a bladder, but it doesn’t take a crystal ball to figure out that making someone piss their pants in front of friends and family is kinda the opposite of fun.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Jeff shuddered. “To be honest, I’d rather not have a party at all.”
“oh. okay, if that’s what you want.” Stretch didn’t sound put out, only a little disappointed as he slumped back into the chair. He wouldn’t pry, Jeff knew, but it was okay. A lot of his old hurts stung less these days.
“It’s just…my parents used to throw me a party every year, but they didn’t invite my friends.” What few he had, but that didn’t seem worth mentioning. “They invited theirs and kids from our church who didn’t even like me. I’d spend the whole time being ignored at a party that was supposed to be about me, unless it was to blow out the candles for the photo op.” The memory of sitting miserably alone, waiting for his father to scold him in a low whisper through clenched teeth to stop embarrassing him…Jeff shook it away. He was done letting his dad hurt him, thanks. “After I moved in with Julia, we just had a little cake and dinner together with some presents.”
He could practically see Stretch eagerly latch onto that idea. “we could do that, if you want! edge could make dinner, you and antwan could come over. have some cake, play some games—”
“Play games? I thought you wanted me to have a nice, quiet night,” Jeff teased. Their game nights hadn’t reached the level of the legendary (and fiery) last game of Monopoly before it was permanently banned, but not for lack of trying.
Stretch’s grin was unashamed, but then, he didn’t usually start the gaming fires, he only fanned the flames. “yeah, okay, maybe a movie. how about it?”
“I’d like that.” One of Edge’s delicious dinners, followed by one of his luscious desserts? He could do things with chocolate that would make angels swear and devils weep, Jeff’s mouth was already watering.
Stretch was nodding thoughtfully, probably already plotting at least something unusual and whatever it was, Jeff knew it would make him laugh. He started to climb to his feet and Jeff hastened to stop his escape. He was starting to get the hang of all this, figuring out the steps to Stretch’s internal dance, and he knew the best time to probe for his own info was when Stretch just dug up his own.
“What about for your birthday,” Jeff asked, lightly, “party animal or homeboy?”
Either way, Jeff figured he could rope Edge into helping and they could have some real fun with it, come up with some sort of crazy party theme. Mad scientist was probably off the table, unless they stuck with classroom experiments, but Stretch would think rubber chickens were hilarious, or wearing anything but clothes or even a 70’s disco bash, Jeff had a cute pair of go-go boots that he was dying to wear.
Of all the answers Stretch might give, from actual honesty (unlikely) to some kind of sly pun (far higher on the list), Jeff was not expecting his friend to only shrug his narrow shoulders. “dunno, i’ve never had a birthday party.”
“What? Seriously?” Jeff said, startled. He’d honestly expected that if nothing else, Edge would make sure Stretch got a little celebration, not to mention Blue.
Stretch only rolled to his feet and lived up to his namesake with a joint-popping groan, tall enough that his fingers brushed the ceiling as he stretched. “don’t even know when my birthday is, none of us do. it was always just me and blue until we got here.”
He didn’t seem bothered by it, which, yeah, it wasn’t like he knew any different. But knowing that Stretch never had any kind of parent…sure, his own parents were kind of shit, but he’d at least had Julia. Stretch was the older brother, had anyone ever taken care of him, made sure he had presents and hugs and treats when he needed them, made him feel any kind of special, before Edge stepped up?
Jeff was afraid he knew the answer to that one. No wonder the whole Skeleton family went all out on Gyftmas.
“anyway, i better let you get back to work.” Stretch waggled his fingers in a lazy little wave. “i’ll talk to edge, makes some plans for this weekend, yeah?”
“Sure, sounds great,” Jeff said, but he already had a plan of his own forming and knew just the accomplice to help.
It was how he ended up crouched behind a sofa a few days later with the entire skeleton clan, plus extras, waiting for a door to open and the lights to turn on before jumping out with the rest of them to a loud chorus of, “Surprise!”
Surprise was probably an understatement, Stretch nearly jumped out of his non-existent skin and he dropped the bag of books he was carrying, a quick call from Thomas at ‘Classic Books’ the perfect ruse to get him out of the house for a couple of hours.
Jeff really hoped someone recorded that shriek, it deserved a place of honor on Twitter.
“what the hell?” Stretch didn’t seem happy, only bewildered, looking around the room at the streamers, the balloons, the haphazard pile of presents with the rubber chicken in a white leisure suit standing guard, and the banner that declared, ‘happy birthday!’. There was an entire buffet table full of mouthwatering treats, more than enough for the hungry guests, and eh, maybe the huge disco ball was a bit much, but when you had a theme, you had to run with it.
“It’s a party for you, Papy!” Blue chirped out, like maybe somehow his brother missed the clue. His cheery smile dimmed a little, the party hat on his head almost drooping when Stretch only stood there in confusion with his bag at his feet. Edge started towards him in obvious concern and Jeff held out a hand to stop him. This was his idea, he’d take the heat.
He walked over to Stretch and picked up the bag, heavy books shifting within it. The shiny white leather of his go-go boots reflected the light of the disco ball, but Jeff forced himself not to stare at them. Instead, he pulled off one of the wide gold chains around his neck, the one with a medallion on it that had ‘Let’s Boogie’ engraved in it. He held it out, looking into his friend’s pale eye lights as he admitted, a little nervously, “I figured since I didn’t want my birthday, I’d give it to you.”
The confusion on Stretch’s face faded into something more complicated, harder to interpret, but there was no mistaking the strength of the hug Jeff abruptly found himself pulled into, the books thumping back to the floor.
“thanks.” A single word, maybe a little too soft and thick. Tears pricked Jeff’s eyes as he hugged Stretch back, the best friend he’d never even thought to wish for, much less imagined he’d have. Then he was biting back a laugh as Stretch murmured, “we’re still doing dinner and a movie, you shit.”
“Deal.”
Stretch let go after a minute and his grin was enough to rouse the rest of the guests who were starting murmur apprehensively. He snatched the necklace still dangling from Jeff’s hand and looped it around his neck with a loud, “c’mon, let’s party!”
It was one of the best ideas Jeff thought he’d heard all year.
-finis-
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