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bubblyhoney · 3 years

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win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x reader #sapnap x fem!reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap fic #sapnap oneshot #mcyt imagine #bubblyhoneyfics #mcyt x you

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world.

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?”

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?”

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be?

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly.

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start?

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard.

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear.

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins.

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now?

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

1K notes · View notes

madswonders · 3 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #11: Actions

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: A little ✨spice✨ and a little ✨action✨

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, gun violence, mild (???) dirty talk

Word Count: 2.3k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they pretend to be married.

A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to the Classy Restaurant Music playlist on Spotify for capturing the fancy restaurant vibes I needed hahahah

Masterlist | All chapters here!

---------

"You know, this is not how I imagined coming back here." You said quietly. Next to you, Spencer smiled.

Your eyes were still adjusting to the warm light, a stark contrast to the blue winter evening outside. This was your second time here, technically, but the sensation of his hand on your waist and the cool metal on your left hand made it all feel brand new.

"Table for Mr. and Mrs. Reid." He said to the hostess, calmer than you'd ever seen him before. You didn't miss the way he tugged you closer when he said "Mrs." and despite the truth of the matter, giddy smiles tugged on both your lips.

But it was the hostess' reaction that gave it away for you. When she glanced at your intertwined hands and matching rings with a soft smile, you began to realise why the two of you were chosen for this in the first place. The effect you had on each other was hypnotising.

Sending you and Spencer undercover as newlyweds was probably the easiest decision Hotch has ever had to make. His reasoning came from basic human psychology; people are drawn to extreme events, and while this generally applied to accidents and tragedy, it also applied to marriage and child birth.

In this case, few things would stand out more in a crowded restaurant than a pair of shiny new wedding rings, a large bouquet of flowers, and a bottle of champagne for two. And to top it all off, he had the two of you. Everything else came secondary.

Still, it was strange. Being isolated from the operation only made you more in awe of your team. Even under the duress of three hours, they operated like clockwork; devising a comprehensive undercover mission, building a profile for an unsub they didn't even know, and training an entire restaurant's staff in a handful of hours.

By the time the final pieces fell into place, all that was left was for you and Spencer to carry out the final stage of the plan.

Maybe it was the pressure of having the entire team rest on your shoulders, or this new "character" you had to play, but something felt different tonight. It was like electricity crackled in the air; you felt it when his hand lingered on your back, low enough that you felt a growing warmth in your belly, making you yearn for his touch long after he let go.

Maybe it was the stress from going undercover for the first time that made you trail your gaze down his suited figure, muscled and lean as a side effect of this job. Maybe that's why the image of him standing at the foot of your bed in this very suit couldn't leave your mind, until the physical action of squirming in your seat jolted you out of your own imagination.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Spencer locked eyes with you, his hazel eyes dark under the dim restaurant lighting.

"Just thinking about you." You admitted, placing your hand across the table. He took your hand in his instantly, his thumb tentatively resting on the jewel on your ring finger.

"All good things, I hope?"

"Nothing but good things."

"Well, perhaps I can add to that. You look beautiful." He pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his eyes crinkling playfully when your cheeks turned pink in response.

"How do I know you're not just saying that for our audience?" You whispered, eyes darting to his tie where the mic was hidden.

"If it weren't for our audience, I'd be saying a lot more, love." He replied lowly, and you bit back a thought you didn't want any of your colleagues to hear. You could already imagine them cringing as they listened in on your conversation, and the image made you giggle.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Dr. Spencer Reid?" You accused jokingly.

"When love is not madness, it is not love." He answered simply.

You thought for a moment, before the reference clicked in your head. "Pedro Calderon de la Barca. Interesting choice. You weren't lying about your education in classic literature, doctor." You looked impressed.

"I'm hurt that you even doubted it." He mocked insult, and you grinned.

"No, I'm just surprised."

"Wait until you see my actual surprise." He smiled, gesturing behind you as a waiter appeared carrying two plates in your direction.

"I took the liberty of ordering our food in advance." He explained. When you looked at him in surprise, he simply shrugged. “I figured I should expand my theory beyond breakfast.”

"And here I thought tonight couldn't get anymore exciting." You said, marvelling at the appetisers as they were placed in front of you two.

“You can reserve your compliments for when I guess everything correct, and I will.” He mock bowed.

“You're on." You giggled. "Now, can we finally have some of this champagne?"

Dinner went by smoother than you thought it would, and thankfully for your team listening in, your conversations steered away from thinly veiled flirting to classic films as the food appeared.

Not that it was any easier for you talk about Billy Wilder and Francis Ford Coppola with what was happening in front of you. Spencer had taken to playing with the ring on your finger while you talked, and each time his long fingers brushed against yours, it sent chills down your spine.

But it was when his leg brushed against yours underneath the clothed table that you felt yourself lose grip of your facade. The first time it happened, you even thought it might be a mistake. But after the second and third time, it was clear that Spencer knew exactly what he was doing, even if the innocent expression on his face didn't betray anything.

If you didn't know him better, you would even think that he liked it, teasing you underneath the restaurant table on case, where you couldn't act on it. Instead, you pushed away the thought and allowed your skin to prick with every touch; all the while you sipped on your champagne, taking the chance to observe the patrons around you through the rim of your glass.

Unfortunately, your luck was a little worse in the unsub department, and your concern only continued to grow as your entrées made way for dessert.

Before you entered the restaurant, the team had discussed the best-case-scenario for tonight — identifying and apprehending the unsub quietly before the dinner shift was up. But if you ran out of time, there was always one back-up plan, something that would definitely force the unsub's hand.

The good thing about having two unsubs now was that victimology became incredibly simple to decipher. What you and Spencer had considered inconsistencies at first, were now clear patterns distinguishing each one.

The first one was impulsive but experienced, driven purely by a compulsion to complete his pattern as fast as possible. Despite that, he had the sense to stick to high-risk victims and secluded locations, which made him so hard to catch in the first place.

It was the second unsub that was interesting. He seemed more controlled and calculating, choosing low-risk victims and public locations. The team profiled him as the narcissistic component of the original profile. The more high profile the victims, the more they attracted him.

And now that you’d spent the entire night drawing attention to yourselves, all you had to do was present an easy opportunity for the unsub to pounce — right into the BAU’s trap.

The moment Spencer beckoned you to come closer, you knew something was up. "Listen carefully, love. I'm going to call for the bill, and we're going to go outside. If I'm right about my guess, the unsub is going to be right behind us. Do you understand me?" He whispered into your ear, low and calm.

You made an obvious move to cup his cheek as you leaned back. "Can we go home now, baby?" You cooed. Yeah, you got him.

As you walked out of the restaurant, you intentionally stumbled as you clung onto his arm, letting out a loud giggle. Your gaze fixed adoringly on your date, even as Emily and Hotch called for their bill on your left, Derek and Rossi no doubt already rounding to the front of the restaurant from the back exit.

"Trust me." Spencer murmured as he opened the door for you, and when you nodded, he pulled you into one final kiss for the public. What you didn't expect was for him to move his hand down and squeeze your ass, causing you to let out a loud squeak at the doorway.

If anybody was looking at the two of you before, they were certainly staring now, and the doctor confirmed this with a low whisper. "He's coming."

When he finally caged you against his car, you had to remember not to go overboard for your listening colleagues, but you couldn't help but let out a quiet moan into his mouth as he pushed his leg lightly against your core.

"Sp— Spencer—" You breathed, locking your fingers behind his neck.

"Just hold on a little bit more, love." He muttered, cupping your cheeks with his large hands and stroking your hair. "Just a bit mor—"

You heard the sound of a gun cocking next to you as you broke apart, lightly gasping. A middle-aged man stood in the shadows, waving his gun aggressively. Bingo.

"Get into the car."

The two of you raised your arms warily. "Who are you?" Spencer shouted, moving to shield you from the unsub.

"I said, get into the car!" He yelled. "Starting with you."

"Okay, okay." The doctor conceded, unlocking the car and slowly getting in the backseat. He left some room for you to get in next, but the unsub trained his gun on you.

"Not you, sweetheart. I'm going to finish you right here." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Drop your bag on the ground."

Everything seemed to fall silent as you slowly lowered your bag, and your hidden gun, to the ground. When you stood back up with your hands in the air, the unsub slammed you into the side of the car and you groaned at the sudden impact.

You didn't need to gather your senses to know that his gun was pointed right at you.

"Leave her alone, James." Spencer threatened, already out of the car and levelling his gun at the unsub. All around you, the team moved into the light.

"FBI! James Luther — put the gun down." Hotch ordered.

The unsub looked shocked for a moment as he looked around, finally realising the situation he was in. His expression was unusually calm, and it chilled you to the bone.

"Very, very interesting. Are you a fed too?" He sneered down at you.

"It's over, James. Either you put the gun down, or you don't walk out of here alive." Spencer warned, but the unsub only laughed.

"I should have known that it was too good to be true. It's not often I get such a perfect couple, much less one with a wife this pretty." He drawled, waving the gun in your face.

"Spencer. I'm okay." You ordered through gritted teeth, already knowing what the genius was about to do.

"Look at her, so brave. Are the two of you even married? Or is everything about this fake?"

"I won't say this a second time. Put the gun down." Spencer repeated, cocking his gun straight at the unsub's head.

"T-think about this, James." You reasoned. "If you kill me, they'll kill you, and you won't be able to hear what the press will say about your murders after we expose you. Isn't that what you want? Don't you want to stop living in somebody else's shadow?"

The unsub's grip on his gun slackened. "They're not going to run a story on me. Why would they unless I keep killing?"

"They will if you give us the names and descriptions of all your victims, and we will make sure your face is front and centre for every single one." Spencer added. The unsub looked into both your eyes, seemingly searching for a hint of a lie, but there was none.

"Fine. Looks like the lady lives, this time." He gave up, dropping his gun to the floor and putting both hands on his head.

"James Luther, you are under arrest for the murders of Lucy Patt..." Derek recited his rights while dragging him away. You braced yourself against the car, catching your breath.

"Are you okay?" Spencer rushed over, sweeping you into a hug before you could even reply. You buried your face into his shoulder, tears welling up in your eyes involuntarily as you inhaled the familiar scent of paperbacks and coffee.

"I-I'm okay, baby. I'm okay." You mumbled, not sure if you were reassuring your boyfriend or yourself in that moment.

"It's okay, just let it out. You're safe now. I'm here. You're safe." He repeated, stroking your back as he kissed the top of your head again and again and again until you lost count.

You'd never been so relieved to arrive back at the BAU. Penelope was the first to give the two of you a big hug when you returned, fussing over the small cut on your face and the bruises on your arms, while you reassured her that you'd been cleared by the medics to go home.

"Good work today, both of you." Hotch called out from behind, shooting a small smile at you and Spencer. "Reid, take her home, and take a day off tomorrow. The two of you deserve it."

"You wouldn't be able to drag me into work tomorrow if you tried." You joked, and Spencer chuckled. For the first time, he wasn't about to argue with an order to take a break.

Nor was he about to argue when you asked him to come in to your apartment, or when you asked him to stay the night.

The only thing he wanted after tonight, was you.

---------

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thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Text

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part IV)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: Talk doesn´t seem to be like a good attack plan and now reader has to run for their life and avoid being caught by the Jaegerists.

Words Count: 6.1k

Silence reigned in the room. Only our breaths could be heard, some agitated, others calm, as well as footsteps fading at the end of the corridor. I could feel my heart pounding hard on my chest, inwardly wishing that no one could hear it. From the distance that each one was, I doubted it was physically possible; But let's face it, in a world full of humans turned into Titans, whose possessors can regenerate their body parts, listening to the beat of a heart shouldn’t be a difficult task.

"I wanted to speak with you"

Eren's lifeless eyes weren't focused on anyone in particular, I could notice his face even darker than it had been in recent days and a look much duller. My hand on the table was very close to his, threatened with blood staining from the crimson pool that was forming on the beautiful white tablecloth.

On my left side, the little girl was shaking up and down, not looking at anyone or anything at all. She also had her hands on the table, as did everyone. I directed my gaze towards the other companions at the table, the three were reversed in a conversation that I had no intention of being part of. The only thing that interested me was to give a little security to this poor girl.

I made a little movement with my elbow and shoulder toward her, trying to get her attention, but it didn't make her turn around. I tried again, this time launching a breathless and very low 'hey', taking advantage of the voices at medium volume to lighten mine. That did work. The girl had turned her eyes to me, she was still extremely scared and it showed in her eyes and all over her face. I was very sorry to see her like this.

I gave her a slight smile, curling the tip of my lip upward, and nodded. Her gaze locked with mine for a few seconds and I could see how she was calming down, even a little, but it was there. It was a stressful situation for everyone, I didn't even want to imagine what she must feel, and if my possibilities were within bringing her some calm, I would. I made a little "s'ok" with my lips without speaking, not even whispering.

"Are you paying attention?" My gaze turned to the source of the problem again. Eren had his eyes fixed hard on my face. I thought I might have gone unnoticed, but I was wrong.

I adjusted my posture on the chair, now staring forward, but with my eyes fixed on those intense but haggard gray-green eyes. I took my gaze away from his for a second to see the girl next to me, who was again trembling with fear, and I reached my hand towards hers, returning my gaze to it’s previous position. Eren clenched his fist at this movement and furrowed his brow even more, sending me a silent and mental warning. I ignored his threat and grabbed the girl's hand, at no point taking my eyes off his and accentuating my head up high.

"Keep your hands on the table Mikasa"

His gaze now turned to his childhood friends, standing myself alone at the side of the table, failing incredibly to calm a twelve-year-old girl. And as if there was nothing that could make the situation worse and make the moment much more stressful, they had to touch on sensitive issues, issues that were like putting a finger on the sore.

"Armin, you keep going to see Annie, do you really do it of your own free will?" Was it really necessary? There was nothing, or so it seemed, that could give any indication that Annie was about to wake up, and the fact that Armin wanted to go see her didn’t seem bad at all, or at least that’s what I thought; Indeed, it clearly showed Armin's sentimental attraction to her.

Yes, Annie was an important key to the investigation of the titans, but that was four years ago, now we were just sitting back in the chair and hoping that, by some miracle, the glass that surrounded Annie and left her in a reverie state will unfreeze. That Armin came to see her didn’t change anything in the plans of the militancy, much less the legion.

"Since you inherited the memories, a part of you is now Berthold"

Ah, that’s where the shots came from. It was difficult to understand the powers and responsibilities that came with being a titan shifter. We weren’t only talking about the short life that the owners unfortunately had to endure, but also the memories of their predecessors, memories that could haunt their current owner.

Likewise, blaming Armin for Berthold's memories wasn't going to fix things. Armin was still Armin, the sweet and calm boy, willing to fight if necessary, but always opting for the least violent solution, the most civilized one. He tried it on Annie and he tried it on Berthold, failing both times.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to blame Armin for having the memories of one of our enemies in his mind, memories that I never wish to obtain or see. As far as I knew, Grisha's memories, while they had been an impact towards the general knowledge of the world, hadn’t shaped Eren ... had they?

Nor was it fair to see how the same boy who had so supported his childhood friend in the years as a recruit, was internally unbalanced by the stubbornness of that friend. See how fear invaded his gaze and he was petrified to such putrid revelations.

"Eren ..." I tried to stop him, God, I swear I tried to stop him.

I tried to use the word my comrades wanted to use so badly, the words Armin wanted to use, but they weren't enough. In a thousandth of seconds, horrific ideas flashed through my mind, wishing none of them would come true. If the conversation went this way, it could end not just a friendship of years, but the sanity of all of us. I wasn't important in this trio, I was an add-on, and I couldn't allow Eren to continue destroying relationships and people wherever he stepped.

But I wasn't quick enough to stop him with words. When he finished defenestrating Armin, he turned his attention to Mikasa. Of all the people, the one who I was most afraid was her, the person who would collapse the most if he detached himself from her half-brother.

"You too Mikasa"

My eyes went wide as I heard the truths of the Ackerman clan. Created and genetically engineered to protect and follow orders, without conscience, without free will. Mikasa was devastated and I could see in her eyes how images of her childhood passed through her mind, images and memories that now seemed like a lie, a sham.

"In short ... a clan created to protect others who have no conscience of their own"

"Eren, stop" Armin was just as scared as I was, praying to any God who had been watching us that so much evil stop at once, that those words would stop coming out of that damn viperine tongue. Eren was vomiting word after word, without measuring the consequences, without measuring the damage it could cause to Mikasa's mind.

"In other words, slaves"

The situation was getting out of hand. Nothing we could say or do right now was going to help. The conversation that Armin wanted with all his might to take place was going overboard. If the others could be present with us, they would see clearly like me how the faith in his friend was dissipating with the seconds in the blond's gaze.

"At last I understand why I hated to see a slave who carried out all orders without question"

His eyes were filled with hatred, resentment, anger, contempt, and a thousand other degenerative feelings. His intention was very clear the moment he entered the room: to hurt; and he was succeeding.

He’d done me a lot of damage in the last year, such damage that it reached the darkest and inner corridors of my mind and it was impossible for me to move forward on a gray and dubious course, and now he was willing to continue doing more damage, this time to his closest friends, those people that I never thought, that never crossed my mind, he could destroy internally. He was annihilating their willpower and their desire to fight, and he’s doing so by colossal steps.

"Eren that's enough!" Armin and I shouted in unison. We didn’t necessary have to say a word or look at each other to know that the next words were going to be disastrous.

"Mikasa, I have always hated you"

That was the breaking point. Mikasa's eyes filled with tears and they didn't last for a second on her lids, they were already being spilled onto her cheeks. She was completely devastated and I couldn't blame her. The person who had given her a home after the brutal murder of her parents, the person to whom she was so devoted and would give her life, was turning his back on her, as well as killing sentimentally.

"You damn bastard!"

Armin jumped on the table with the intention of reaching the dark-haired man, but he didn’t get very far, being pulled from the chest to the hard wood of the furniture by Mikasa herself. And that only made the situation worse and agreed with Eren. It was as if fate was laughing at us for trying to pull the strings of our paths, strings that handled us like puppets and over which we had no control.

Mikasa let go of Armin's hand when she realized the act she just did, horrified with herself, and he now had the opportunity to pounce on Eren, throwing a punch in the middle of his face and throwing him to the floor. With that, the table flew backwards and in a reflex action, I also threw myself back, letting the chair fall to one side and avoiding any blow that the table could give me.

Unconsciously I lunged towards the girl next to me, preventing at all times that the table hit her or that some of the two men who were fighting each other to ended up bumping into her. I pushed her away from any crossing point and hid her behind my back, using my body as a shield against any impact that could shoot towards our position. Mikasa had also run to the left side of the wine cabinet, contemplating the scene before hers with complete sadness.

Eren's fist slammed into Armin's face, throwing him straight into the cabinet, knocking a few wines against his back and knocking a couple of ceramic plates to the floor. My instincts screamed I needed to help Armin, even knowing that he could regenerate in a matter of seconds, that the cuts and bruises weren't going to last long, but that wasn't why I wanted to help him.

It wasn’t the pain and physical blows that worried me, but the psychological anger and damage that this was entailing.

"Jaeger-san!"

Two followers slammed into the room, pointing their rifles directly at Armin and Mikasa's heads. They were unaware of my presence, paying more attention to the boy beaten from head to toe and the girl crying like a river.

I took a step forward and reaffirmed my theory, my presence wasn’t being recognized. I took another step, and another, and another, until I was right next to the fallen table and turned around, making sure the girl was still where I left her, that she was safe and sound. I gestured with my finger to my lips for her to be quiet and to stay still and turned to the scene in front of me. Eren kept beating poor Armin, who was unable to defend himself properly. He was right, in a hand-to-hand fight, Armin would be the worst off, even myself, but that didn't mean I couldn't manage to come out victorious.

Next to me, the chair Eren was sitting at a few seconds ago was still in the same place where he felt. With great care and tranquility, I bent down to grasp the back legs of it, without taking my eyes off Eren or the pseudo-guards who still had with their rifles at a shooting position, raised it to the height of my head and then smashed it against the two armed men in the stomach area. I hurriedly kicked each of them to the face, preventing them from having a chance to get up quickly, just as I slung the rifles from their shoulders with the same leg and pushed them away under a window. Without wasting time, I turned around to find Eren realizing the events that were happening next to him, and I wedged a blow in the middle of his face, in the same way Armin had done.

The blow hadn't been quite strong since he didn't fall to the ground, but it was enough to throw him off balance and make him leave Armin alone. The blonde fell to the floor, exhausted and sore from the multiple punchs to the face he had suffered, and I continued to give a new blow to the stomach height to the brunette in front of me. One of his knees fell to the ground, giving me the opportunity to grab his arm and twist him from behind, immobilizing him. I put my other arm over his armpit, preventing him from moving his arms and his upper body.

“That’s enought you fucking bastard. Mikasa..."

My face was on the crook of Eren's neck, preventing me from seeing clearly ahead, but my partial gaze sought out those tear-filled gray eyes to signal her to help me. My voice was already a signal for help even if I wasn't yelling. I could see how those eyes were full of conflicts, a battle was being fought inside her mind and she seemed to not be able to reason what she saw.

"MIKASA!"

This time I did yell, asking with all my will Mikasa could come to her senses, that she could help me with the lost cause Eren was now. I wasn’t going to be able to control him for much longer, I didn’t have the necessary strength and that was why I was trying to reach her. But the fear in my eyes was reflected when I saw that she wasn’t moving, that she was simply watching with tears in her eyes, eyes that would surely be cloudy and couldn’t see clearly. My fear was reflected when I saw that no one was going to be able to help me.

Eren hit his head against mine, right on the septum of my nose. My head jerked back involuntarily and my arms lost support on his. He grabbed my left hand, holding it high, much higher than my head, uncovering my stomach and his knee hitting it’s pit, not just once, but twice. His leg hit my knee, yanking it back and knocking me off what little balance I had left.

His grip on my hand released and I fell hard on my knees and hands onto the wooden floor. My stomach was spasming and I regurgitated bile, struggling to take in some air that I was deprived of in a matter of milliseconds. I coughed all I could until my stomach settled back, but I was unable to get back to my feet. I felt two pairs of hands grab my arms and I stood up abruptly, grabbing my hair even and looking up as the turquoise eyes set at my point of view.

"Why do you always have to be in the middle? Why can you never stay quiet in a corner without sticking your nose in someone else's butt? " Without my noticing, his fist slammed into my nose, hitting the septum back and most likely breaking it. My head cocked to the side and I could see drops of blood falling to the ground and a stream spreading from under my nostrils to my chin. "It was frustrating to see how in all the missions you were there, being a useless without importance"

Useless? I was the one who treated his wounds in training, tying his head when he hit the stone floor in his practice with the movement equipment. I was the one who put cold water on his ankle when he bent it while running through the lush forest on a rainy day. I was the one who pushed him to the side when he was going to hit a stone face down for not looking where he was going. I was one of those who saved him when he was captured by Reiner and Berthold. I was the one who pulled him out of the middle of an onslaught of titans when he first activated the coordinate, even with a wounded and bleeding shoulder.

I was the one who slapped him to make him stop crying inside the cave when Rod Reiss was transforming, claiming this wasn’t the time for his tantrums and that if he wanted to make a change in this whole twisted story, he better put down the crocodile tears for when he was in the quiet of his bed.

It was me who warned him of dozens of Marleyan soldiers when he shed from his titan back at Libero.

“And yet you continued to stick to me like a lap dog to the leg of it’s owner. Yet another slave. Makes me gag just looking at your face"

I turned my face to him, fixing my eyes on his, conveying all the hatred and contempt he was making me feel. I felt my heart shrink at such crude words, but my duel had started several weeks ago and they didn’t achieve the same effect as with Mikasa. What he did was get me to give him a contemptuous half smile and laugh in his face. His eyes darkened when he saw my reaction. Whether he expected it or not was no longer important to me. He gave a slight nod to the men behind me and I noticed how my arms were gathered around my back and tightened so that I couldn't move. One of them walked away from me and went straight towards Mikasa and Armin, pointing his rifle at their heads.

"Take them, the brat who killed Sasha too"

I wasn’t going to allow it.

My two comrades were pushed into the corridor outside while I glared at them waiting for my turn to go out with the man behind me. The girl was completely scared and she had walked to the door of her own will, perhaps avoiding being further hurt. The moment Eren was about to leave, I slapped my head against the man's face repeatedly until his grip weakened and I was able to move freely again. I turned to him, kneeing him in the face and stomach. When I managed to reduce him to the ground, making him roll into a ball and couldn't move without causing him pain when he breathed, I wanted to turn towards the door with the sole intention of getting the poor girl out of the conflict. My hand was halfway searching for her when Eren grabbed it and yanked me back violently, slamming me against the table.

I lost my balance for a second and as an involuntary act I grabbed the tablecloth, but that didn’t do much, making me fall to the floor in the same way. Eren lunged at me, his body falling completely on top of mine and pinning me to the ground. His legs were positioned at each place of my torso and his fist hit my face not once, not twice, but three times, noticing how the cheek bone began to burn. I lifted my knee to the side of his ribs, my nails finding the skin of his face, and pushed him toward the table, hitting his back against the hard wood and tangling with the tablecloth.

I got up to run, but his leg hit my ankle causing me to fall on my face and hands. When I wanted to turn around again I felt his weight against mine, his legs now better placed on my knees and both hands holding my neck. He squeezed, I felt like the air was beginning to thin, my vision was turning white and I could feel my face redden. I tried to hit him in the face, but I wasn't strong enough to make him stop. I reached the same hand towards my side visualizing one of the chairs thrown by the fight with Armin but Eren was faster and his knee was now pressing against my inner arm.

I was running out of air and at any moment I was going to lose consciousness. In a desperate attempt I turned my eyes around me as best I could and found a bottle of wine broken in half lying a few inches from us, though too far away for me to just reach out. My fingers couldn't even touch the surface of the glass and on my last attempt before I fainted, I pushed myself towards the bottle, grabbed it by the spout, and pulled it towards Eren's face, driving the broken surface onto his cheek and eye.

Eren grunted in pain and released his hands from my neck, giving me a chance to push him back with both legs and barely get up to run. With cloudy vision and an incredible urge to cough thanks to the pressure on my cervicals and thyroids, I could not make out the whereabouts of the Marleyan girl and ran out the door to the corridor. As I passed the threshold slamming the door wide, rifle bullets were aimed at me, miraculously failing to hit my body. I shrunk my body as much as I could without stopping my feet and looked towards the end of the corridor, finding the second man who was with Armin and Mikasa shooting at me from behind them.

I was about to fall to the ground when Mikasa slammed her shoulder against his, causing him to stagger backward and she struggled to get the rifle out of his hands. In those few seconds of advantage, Armin stepped between the line of fire and me in case any bullets were fired and yelled from his position.

"Go!" I don’t know if it was due to lack of air that I couldn’t react at all quickly and when seeing my indecision to run to where the two of them were or go through the back window, Armin again shouted angrier and more determined "Just go!"

Behind me was a window with broken glass, I assumed due to the bullet holes of the rifle, with a simple blow with my elbow I could break a large part of the glass and jump to the side of the street, but not before giving one last look at Armin and Mikasa, who were still battling the man and Eren coming out of the room half healed and with smoke coming from his wounds.

I fell onto the cobbled street and started running towards the main avenue. My legs were on fire and my lungs were about to collapse, every step I took was a stronger pain in my throat. I wanted to stop and cough to regain normality in my breathing, but I heard behind me the footsteps of people running and yelling to stop me. They were chasing me and if I kept on foot I wasn't going to get very far. I put my fingers to my mouth and whistled as best I could, calling out to Phillip from afar. I had left my horse right at the front door of the restaurant, on the other side of the avenue, so I ran in that direction in order to find him early.

The so-called Jaegerists kept firing behind me, a bullet struck my leg and hit the stone on the ground and ricocheted to the left side against a house. Multiple bullets continued to brush my body, some passing very close to my face and others aimed directly at my legs. In the distance I could see Phillip riding towards me, getting closer and closer. When he came to my side, without stopping, I grabbed his leash and jumped on his back, leaving half my body hanging from lack of strength. I grabbed his neck and motioned for him to turn around and head straight for the avenue.

Phillip was always a fast horse, I thanked the universe for entrusting me to this horse from the first recon mission. He was always there for me, a loyal, strong and very audacious horse, banking me on every expedition and whatever madness crossed my mind to save my companions or myself. I always thanked him for his swiftness and now more than ever I was thanking him in a shaking voice as he continued galloping through the crowd, heading toward the wall’s gate.

Having left the Jaegerists at a considerable distance, I positioned myself correctly on his back, grabbing onto the leash and leaning forward to stroke his head for his great work. I gave myself the freedom to cough and clear my throat of any discomfort, but multiple blows and a firm rumbling behind us made me realize that nothing was over yet, as they were still chasing me, now with their own horses. There weren't many, maybe five or six people and a coach from what I could make out from the hollow of my shoulder, but they were armed and that was what made them dangerous.

I told Phillip to keep riding, to go even faster, to get to the gate as soon as possible. With the riding, the saddle hit my legs and crotch, annoying and hurting me at the same time, but I had to hold it and keep going; we had to get to the gate and fast, very fast. We were a few blocks away when I saw the gate in the distance, wide open and with their respective guards on either side of the threshold.

"Close the door!" I screamed as loudly as I could, feeling my vocal cords tear in the attempt and made my throat hurt even more. The guards turned their heads towards my figure, but none deigned to do what I asked them, they just stared at me stupidly.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!" I coughed as I let out such a scream hoping it was clear enough in the message. Seeing me continue to gallop towards the gate and now hearing the bullets being fired, the guards ran towards the internal mechanism and began to close it, giving me enough time to pass through it without being crushed.

The gate ended up closing when Phillip had already traveled about ten meters outside the wall, leaving the Jaegerists on the other side.

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I dipped my head into the clear water of the river. The cold of the current massaged my battered muscles and cleaned the still bleeding wounds. It was already the third time that I’d put my head in the water and I could notice how little by little the pain was dissipating, but knew that the next day I would have a remotely swollen face and a septum to treat.

We had gotten quite far from the wall, maybe forty minutes or an hour galloping, and we had stayed by the river so as not to get lost. Phillip took the time to drink plenty of water and eat some of the dry grass that surrounded the river; I owed my partner a big one and if it was necessary to spend the little savings I had on a better chair and care for him, I would give it all… but when things were calmer and we could go home.

I lay on my back on the grass into a star-shaped possition and gazed up at the clear sky except for a few fluffy clouds. If it din’t for the recurring events in the last month, I would have taken the liberty of enjoying this beautiful day and the days before that surely there were, but I was too blind and busy to notice them.

The grass felt soft except for a few small stones scattered unevenly and the small field insects that landed on my arms and face and then flew off. It was relaxing, too relaxing. The heat of the sun's rays hit my skin and gave me a comforting sensation that soaked down to my bones, generating a pleasant interior warmth and tingling; I wanted to sleep, I wanted to rest, my body was forcing me to take a break, and this place, this moment, seemed like the perfect one. I closed my eyes, wishing sleep and tranquility would come as quickly as possible, but a vibration in the floor and Phillip's screaming snapped me out of my trance.

I raised my head, surveying my surroundings, the vibrations getting stronger as if they were getting closer. I looked at Phillip and followed his line of sight, far over the horizon, there was a litter of horses galloping over the stone paths that had been built a couple of years ago between each wall. Green overcoats could be distinguished over the horizon of the clear blue sky.

"Fuck, I was hoping to be calm for a couple more hours, come on Phillip"

I got on the back of my horse for the third time that day and directed it to the opposite side of where the other horses were riding. Being in the middle of an open field, there weren’t many houses where to take refuge, even though they had built a lot of houses between both walls. A little in the distance was a lush forest of tall trees, but not as tall as those of the Forest of Giant Trees, that enormous nature of fifty and eighty meters.

We stopped right at the entrance, hoping we had distanced ourselves from the litter of horses, but when I got off Phillip to rest my legs, I saw the path we had come from, and in the distance the same horses that he had seen on the stone path were approaching. There was no longer any doubt that they were the Jaegerists.

I turned my head towards the forest, from what I could see from the entrance the trees weren’t at a considerable distance from each other and the small dirt roads were too narrow. I didn’t know this forest at all and the mere fact of entering without knowing the terrain through the narrow corridors didn’t give me much confidence. But going around it wasn’t a good option either and I would end up being visualized in a matter of seconds. We were in a dead end, in a maze, and I had to play the few cards I had cleverly. I unbuttoned the coat which was already very badly placed on my shoulders and tied it on the strap.

"Phillip I need you to keep running, go as fast as you can and as far as your legs can reach" I pulled the saddle off his back, dropping it to the ground and tried to hide it inside a nearby bush with my foot. I brought his head closer to mine, resting my forehead on his muzzle and stroking his side one last time before saying goodbye.

"Go!" I smacked him on the back and Phillip ran down the narrow forest paths. As for me, I tried to dispel the footprints the horse had left behind before sending me to run down another path and go as far as I could into the heart of the forest.

I ran, ran and ran, my legs were on the edge, branches and thorns were digging into my skin making it burn every time other scratches were created in the same place. At this fact, I was resigned to the fact my clothes were bleeding and torn, as well as the matted hair and bruises on my body. My foot made contact with a tree root and I fell between the others, right in a hole, hitting my head and shoulder in the fall. I scraped my arm too, and my shirt was now full of dirt and dry leaves; surely my hair was the same. I heard heavy footsteps near me and I rolled into a ball in the hole, hiding behind the tree and seeking its protection.

"Find them, we can't let them escape"

Six people broke up and each one ran in a different direction in search of me. For an instant, my heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched when I saw one of them pass by the side of the tree where I was. At no point did he turn towards my location so I was able to breathe again. Minutes passed until I stopped hearing nearby footsteps, I got up leaning against the bark and kept walking inward, finding myself up a steep hill down.

I let gravity guide me and my feet unconsciously ran downward, avoiding rocks and bushes along the way. As I reached the low surface of the hill I tripped over my feet, losing my balance and colliding with a small tree that was right in the middle of where I was walking. As I stood up and turned it around, I came face to face with a Jaegerist, hooded, rifle in hand.

"Hey! You- "

My reflexes acted on instinct, my leg went straight to his ribs, hitting him squarely in the side of his stomach. I grabbed the rifle with both hands and hit it with the butt on both sides of the face and discarded it to the side when blood began to come out of his mouth. My hand went straight to his head, slamming it against the tree over and over again without stopping until his body fell unconscious on the grass. The interaction lasted no more than fifteen seconds, but it felt like I was about to explode. So many blows received and produced were leaving collateral effects on my body; at any moment I would pass out.

During the three years of training I have gotten used to physical confrontation and body training that lasted more than five hours, not to mention the months we spent annihilating each Titan within the walls. Those missions that lasted all day, if not more, were nothing compared to what my body was going through right now.

I sat next to the body, trying to catch my breath and rest my eyes. I rested my head on the tree and when I opened my eyes I saw a black figure in the middle of a grove a few meters away. He didn’t carry a rifle and seemed to have no intention of running to any specific place, he simply deigned to look around him, at the ground and towards the treetops. I froze to see Eren staring down at the body.

I shrank as much as I could to the left, hiding in the middle of the bushes, body to the ground, without taking my eyes off that figure that was now heading towards the unconscious body of one of his followers. I crawled back until I found a tree wide enough to hide.

"I know you are here"

It was the only thing I heard him say. My blood ran cold and a cold sweat began to form on my forehead. I was scared, very scared, I wasn’t going to deny it, but this wasn’t the time to sit and watch how they corner me little by little until they capture me. If this was the moment, I was going to give everything to get out of here. I stood up resolutely, taking a deep breath, and showed my face to my perpetrator.

"Do you want to pick up where we left off?"

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

Tag List: @aestosia @amberciel @sof-yeager @iwony @curseofymir @etherealkatrina @teenageweaseldonutcash @mariaerdgzn @paypay0315 @despst @kisekinokishi @crazymar15 @futuristiccashstatesmansalad @gis21345 @urinejaeger @zhilon @dianacavendishh @lucielbinon-binary @cryingforwill @erensneedyslut @ryan249057 @stardustmonkey @asahinsunakinnie @obeymekookie @witchymermaid12 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @wonkyunsstuff @jeanbabygirl

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren angst #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

You were the first

As I mentioned in this ask, I have polished up the fic I wrote live on discord. It's left at a bit of a cliff-hanger so I'll try not to leave it too long to write the second chapter, but I make no promises!

Anyway, have some Logan with his first boy crush.

CW: discovering sexuality and sexuality crisis

Rating: G

If you feel I need to add any content warnings or change the rating, please drop me a message!

Logan and Noelle are original characters from the sweater weather universe created by the wonderful @lumosinlove. All other characters in this fic are mine.

Logan tugged at his t-shirt, an expensive white thing that was more fitted than he was used to, scrutinizing his image in the mirror. He rose up onto the tips of his toes, giving a small sigh as he settled back down. He’d always been confident in his appearance, especially under the Nice sun, his hair a little lighter and his skin bronzing even more than usual, but he wished he was taller.

“Lo! Let’s go! I’m ready,” his sister called, appearing in the doorway to his bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay?”

Logan dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand, figuring his ensemble of the white t-shirt and khaki shorts would have to do. “Does this look too prep school?” he asked, pulling on a pair of battered vans that he hoped would soften the outfit before joining Noelle in the hallway.

“Since when did you care about your appearance?” Noelle teased, pulling his cap over his eyes as he fell into step beside her.

I don’t,” Logan grumbled, adjusting the brim, shoving Noelle away from him. He twisted away from her retaliating shove with a chuckle, raising his hands in a truce at the top of the stairs before bounding down them. “Maman! Noelle and I are going out now!”

“Do you have sunscreen? And water?”

“Yes, Maman!” He and Noelle rolled their eyes at each other, waiting around only long enough to hear the affirmative reply from their mother telling them to be safe and back in time for dinner.

“So, what’s going on with you and this Hugo boy then?” Noelle asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

Logan glanced back towards the house anxiously, even though he knew nobody would have heard. He picked up his skateboard, dusting an imaginary piece of dirt from it before tucking it under his arm. “Nothing is going on, he asked me out and I said I wasn’t gay, simple,” Logan mumbled. “Why don’t you concentrate on your own love life?”

“Alright, there’s no need to get defensive,” Noelle clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She strapped her board to her backpack, leaving her hands free to tap against her phone screen. “And my love life is very successful, thank you,” she added with a smirk that was begging for Logan to ask more.

“Oh yeah?” Logan latched onto the opportunity, glad to have the attention off of himself. “Is that who you’ve been texting all the time?” he chuckled, plucking Noelle’s phone from her hand. “What’s his name then?”

Noelle squealed, lunging for her phone, but Logan was too quick, looking at the message before she could grab it. “Oh,” Logan breathed, stumbling over his feet as he shoved the phone back at his sister. “Fuck, Noelle. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t -”

“Logan, it’s fine.” Noelle stopped, grabbing Logan by the shoulder so he halted as well. “Well, it’s not. You’re a little shit, but that’s what little brothers are for, right? Besides, you are so predictable. I was baiting you.”

Logan frowned, his features contorting into a picture of confusion. “What?”

“You’re such a dumbass,” Noelle laughed, shaking her head. “I wanted you to know.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Logan muttered. “So, Natacha, huh? That’s the blonde girl, right?”

Noelle looked at Logan pointedly, “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Uhh…Congratulations?” Logan shrugged.

Noelle sighed and started to walk again. “Yeah, she’s the blonde one.”

Logan jogged a few paces to catch up with her. He chewed at his lip, glancing over at his sister every few steps. She seemed so confident, like she knew exactly what she wanted. He tried to reassure himself that he was only 14, he wasn’t supposed to know what he wanted yet. That’s what all the websites said. Finally, he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, “Do maman et papa know?”

“Not yet,” Noelle hummed, “I’m not worried, I just -”

“Logan! Noelle!” their friend, Ibrahim, yelled as they entered the skate park. Logan looked towards Noelle, mouthing that they would finish the conversation later. “We were just talking about you.”

Noelle replied, but Logan didn’t hear what she said, his attention pulled by the tall boy standing just to the left of Ibrahim. He had light blonde hair that flopped over his eyes and he was shifting nervously between his feet. Hugo.

“Hello! Earth to Logan,” Noelle clapped her hands in front of his face. “I said we’re going to head over there and practice on the rails. Are you coming?”

Logan looked back to Hugo, wincing internally at the obviousness of the action. “No, I’m going to stay,” he pointed behind him to the small group of teens “here.”

Noelle looked at him, her lips making a funny manoeuvre that Logan had come to learn meant she was suppressing a laugh. “Okay.”

Then Noelle was gone, and Logan didn't know what to do with himself. These were the same friends he'd been hanging out with every summer for nearly a decade, but suddenly he seemed to have forgotten how to interact with them. Or rather, with him, with Hugo. He couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so awkward. Sure, the other boy had asked him out, but Logan was certain that wasn’t the problem. He didn't want to be that person, but he had other male friends who were attracted to guys and it had never been an issue before. Even when one of those friends had admitted to a crush on him, Logan had just told them politely he wasn't interested in them like that, and they'd moved on with their friendship. So why did his stomach feel like it was trying to turn itself inside out, right now? And why did he feel like he wouldn't be able to string an intelligible sentence together?

"Logan! What are you doing?" Ibrahim shouted, pulling Logan from his spiralling panic. He looked up to see the group had moved. "Hugo has finally got that combo he was working on down, and for some reason he can't wait to show you." Logan thought he heard something teasing in his friend's tone, but he squashed the thought. He looked over, meeting Hugo's shy smile and decided he could figure out whatever was going on in his head later. His friend wanted to show him a trick, and Logan wasn't a jerk, so he was going to go and watch.

Logan dug his fingers into the edge of his board, clutching it close to him as he approached his friends, the walk to the edge of the bowl they had gathered on seeming to take an age with all their eyes on him. "You've stopped falling on your ass then?" he grinned at Hugo, by way of greeting, proud that the words came out with the same smooth tone that he usually managed.

"Yeah," Hugo blushed. "I told you, practice makes perfect."

"I stand corrected," Logan huffed out a laugh. A red haired girl that Logan didn't know that well, mumbled something that he didn't quite catch, but carried a tone that he didn’t like. He spun around to ask her to repeat herself when she smiled and mounted her board, dropping over the edge of the bowl. Logan turned back to Hugo, but the boy was now looking towards the bowl, sending a glare after Lydia.

"Okay, let's not build this up too much,” Ibrahim threw his arm around Logan. “We’re going to be expecting some Tony Hawk skills at this point." Logan sent him a grateful smile, receiving a small squeeze in return.

"Lyds, we get it. You are fantastic! Now get out the bowl. I already shot - gunned," Hugo said, laughing as Lydia flipped him off after she had exited the bowl on the opposite side."

“Alright then, Hewie. The floor is yours. Let us see your mating dance," Lydia swept her arms in front of her in a grand gesture.

“Sorry about her,” Hugo cleared his throat, his face getting impossibly redder and scratching at the back of his neck. “I think she thinks she’s funny.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Logan hoped the smile he offered was comforting, even if it did feel somewhat tight. He could feel the stares of the others boring into his back as he inclined his head towards the bowl. "What are you waiting for? Show me what you can do.”

Hugo opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to decide better of it, shrugging his shoulders. A cocky smirk spread across his face before he gave a determined nod and dropped into the bowl. It was easy watching Hugo skate. Years of practise had led to a relaxed form, commanding the board with a simple confidence. Any shyness he'd been exhibiting a few moments ago had melted away. Logan wasn't the best skater, rarely picking his board up outside of the summers, so he was easily impressed by the way other people were able to keep their feet stuck to the deck like glue. However, there was something about the way Hugo's body moved, leaning into each turn and shifting his weight with such subtly, that felt different. Logan found himself holding his breath, knowing that the trick Hugo could never land was approaching. He didn't want to think about why the determined crease of Hugo's brow made the same odd feeling in his stomach from earlier reappear.

Hugo carved his way up the side of the bowl, until only one wheel ground against the coping. Logan leaned forward into the movement, expecting to hear the crash of the board against concrete, but it never came. Hugo glided seamlessly back down to the bottom of the bowl with a proud fist pump. A loud cheer escaped Logan's mouth before he even really registered it, the rest of his friends joining in to create a barrage of noise. Logan felt lighter than he had in weeks. Hugo showed off a few more tricks, before exiting the bowl. His skin had a pink flush to it, and his breath was coming in heavy pants, the heat of the afternoon sun making the exercise that bit more intense.

"Here, drink," Logan ordered, thrusting a bottle of water in Hugo’s direction. He took the bottle, but instead of drinking it like Logan expected, he unscrewed the lid, pouring the contents over his head, sweeping his bangs up off his face. Logan thought he had gotten away with the choked noise pulled from his throat, but Lydia chuckled from behind him. Logan turned on his heel, sending her a steely glare, "Is there a problem?"

Lydia raised an eyebrow, cocking her head as if inspecting something, "I'm just wondering how long it's going to take you to get your act together, Tremblay."

Logan tensed, glancing behind him quickly. He let out a long breath, relieved to see Hugo's attention had been monopolised by Ibrahim and another of their friends congratulating him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he scoffed. "We barely even know each other."

"You may not know me, but Hugo and I have been friends since we were babies, so unfortunately I am aware of the exact shade of green your eyes happen to be," Lydia retorted, shrugging off the plaid shirt she had on over her vest top. Her expression had softened when she looked at Logan again, "Look, maybe I've made a big mistake here and you're really not interested in him like that, but if that's the case you really need to stop leading him on."

"I'm not-" Logan started to protest, a part of him wondering exactly what Hugo had told Lydia about him. "-this is none of your business.” He chewed at his lip, pulling his cap from his head. It felt like the temperature had risen dramatically in the last thirty seconds, Logan very aware of the beads of sweat forming under his t-shirt. He shoved his cap back on, tugging at the curls at the nape of neck. "I'm going to find my sister," he said, grinding the words through his teeth and turning on his heel. Somewhere behind him, he heard Hugo call his name, but he pretended he hadn't heard, continuing his quick strides away. This was all too confusing and he just wanted to see Noelle.

Logan crossed the park, finding Noelle sitting on a set of stairs, her head resting on Natacha’s shoulder, the two of them watching some of their friends work the rails. She seemed content, so Logan hesitated a few feet away, guilt creeping in at the prospect of disturbing her. Eventually, his need for comfort won out. "Nolly?”

Logan rarely used the nickname in public these days, receiving a swift smack to the back of his head whenever he did. Noelle whipped her head up, her glare melding quickly into a look of concern.

"Nolly, huh? Adorable," Natacha teased, nudging Noelle gently.

"Don't even think about it," Noelle deadpanned, her eyes remained locked with Logan's. "Hey Lo, what's up?" She patted the concrete next to her, and Logan took a seat, resting his chin in his hands against his knees. He looked between Noelle and Natacha, chewing at his lip. Natacha had always seemed nice, but he wasn't sure he wanted to bare his soul to her quite yet.

"Do you want me to go? I can always go and show the boys how it’s done, it's not a problem." Natacha smiled softly and instantly, Logan decided he liked her. Besides, he wasn’t sure he had anything to say yet, so it was pointless sending her away.

"No, it’s okay," Logan sighed. "I just needed a break." Noelle looked at him pointedly, and Logan could tell she didn’t believe him. For now, she refrained from an interrogation. Logan had a funny feeling that it was postponed rather than cancelled.

It took a while for the conversation to fall back into a natural rhythm, however once the initial awkwardness faded it flowed well, Natacha dropping into the natural gaps of Noelle and Logan’s conversation like she’d always been there. It was easy over here, away from his friends, and Logan let his mind wander to thoughts of Hugo, trying to reconcile these new feelings with the information he currently had about himself.

Natacha laughed, loud and smooth, pulling Logan back into the conversation. "No, my ex, he -" Logan didn't hear the next few sentences, fixating on the pronoun until he couldn't hold in the question any more.

"Did you say he?"

Natacha furrowed her brow, whilst Noelle's expression turned smug and knowing. Logan had questions about that too, but it'd have to wait. Eventually, Natacha gave a slow nod. "Yes, he...Jacob, my ex-boyfriend."

Logan waved his hand between Noelle and Natacha, "- and now you have a girlfriend."

Something changed in Natacha's expression, but Logan couldn't place it. "Well," she chuckled, "we haven't called it anything yet, but I wouldn't object."

Logan blinked. "You can do that?"

Natacha shrugged, looking between Logan and Noelle with a careful curiosity.

"No." Logan cut her off before she could answer. "I know you can change your mind or whatever. Or not know. But can I just...I guess, I had that crush on Alicia back in grade 7, but now I think - yeah, Hugo makes me feel kind of the same way, so am I gay now or what?" He felt Noelle squeeze his knee as he reached to scratch at the back of his neck. She always told him he'd be awful at poker because he had too many tells.

Natacha looked between him and Noelle again. It was getting a bit annoying, but he figured he had just dumped a whole lot of thoughts on somebody he had only spoken to a handful of times. The silence was beginning to feel heavy when she eventually spoke, "I can't really tell you that. You could be gay, you could be bisexual, I'm fairly sure there's other things too. Just try not to freak out about it, yeah?"

Bisexual. Now that he thought about it, Logan remembered hearing that word before. He'd never really considered what it meant though, it hadn’t been necessary. The only person he'd ever had a crush on before was Alicia. Maybe bisexual fit, but he'd never liked another girl like that either so maybe Alicia was just a fluke and he was just gay. He lay back, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the sun and groaned. "Try not to freak out. How am I not supposed to freak out?! I want to kiss a boy."

"Oh, you want to kiss him do you? You're a baby, you're not allowed to kiss anybody." Noelle teased, poking at his side. Logan threw a furious look at her. Could she not see he was having a crisis here and she was laughing. "Sorry," Noelle apologised, her voice more sincere. "I know it's a lot to think about. It's just difficult not to tease my little brother about his crush."

Logan had to admit something was comforting in the idea that even when his world was in chaos, there was always the constant of his sister's teasing. He'd never tell her that though. "I think I'm just going to pretend this isn't happening," he sighed.

Noelle laughed again, more committed this time. "That would be very fitting," she hummed. "You could also, oh, I don't know...talk to him?"

Logan sat up quickly, "And what if he asks if I'm gay!? I literally told him 3 days ago I wasn't interested.” The long sigh that followed felt like it was pulled from him.

"Erm..." Natacha muttered awkwardly. "I'm gonna leave you two to talk. Good luck, Logan," she added, leaning around Noelle to pat at his arm. Ordinarily he would have found the gesture condescending, but it was oddly comforting.

There was a quiet as they watched her walk away. “I like her,” Logan declared.

"Well, she's my girlfriend so you can't have her," Noelle quipped. Logan rolled his eyes; his sister shared their father's sense of humour and frankly, it was awful. "Can I let you into a secret?" she asked, pulling Logan into her side. There wasn’t time to answer before Noelle continued. "It wasn't easy for me either. But I got there and you will too. Just be honest with Hugo, and if he's an ass about it at least you know he's trash now rather than later."

"Thanks, Nolly," Logan said quietly, leaning his head on his sister's shoulder. "I think I'll talk to him. Or maybe I'll just show him my hockey reel, that's impressive." Noelle flicked her fingers against his leg and Logan scowled, rubbing at the spot.

"Try not falling off that board for once, that'll impress him," Noelle teased, inclining her head towards Logan's abandoned board.

"Or maybe, I'll just fall off and then get him to teach me." Logan retorted with a smirk, looking in the direction of the bowl that he had left earlier. He figured he should probably head back over there soon, he’d left before he could even really congratulate Hugo.

Noelle shook her head, laughing "God, you're such a Tremblay at times."

Logan heaved himself up, grabbing his board as he did. "Hey, you never did tell me what you decided on. You know...with your sexuality," his said, feeling his face heat up a little. Somewhere in the back of his brain, something told him he wasn't supposed to ask that, but the question had left his mouth before he'd really thought about it. "If you don't mind telling me."

Noelle looked up at him with a casual shrug, "I refuse to be defined by labels, I will date who I date and if people don't like it, well fuck them."

"Wow, okay," Logan raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of anger in such a small person. Go skate it off."

"Alright, Mr 5 foot," Noelle scoffed, her expression softening before she continued. "I am

going to see if I can prise my board from Tasha's grip, but let me know if you want to go, yeah?"

"I just haven't hit my growth spurt yet," Logan reeled off his usual rebuttal to his sister's jibes about his height, but his mind was more focused on the latter words. "I'll be fine, promise," he smiled, even if he wasn't so convinced of the statement himself. He held Noelle's gaze for a beat longer, turning on his heel to head back to his friends

"Logan!" Hugo called loudly as he approached, the blond boy's eyes widening slightly when the loud sound left his mouth. "You're back," he added, at a more reasonable volume.

Logan smiled as he took a seat next to Hugo, "Yeah, sorry about that. Just had to sort some stuff.”

"No problem, just glad to have you back.”

Ibrahim faked a gag, and Logan shot him a glare. His friend mouthed something at him, but Logan couldn’t make out the words against the exaggerated movements of his lips. He turned his attention back to Hugo as he began to speak again. Ibrahim was probably only trying to chirp him anyway. "Hey, how's your Ollie going?"

Logan took a deep breath, trying not to think about his next words too much, "Yeah, I'm still practicing, actually. I was wondering if you could help me again? Somewhere," Logan looked around, "not here. I don't want to keep falling on my ass in front of everybody."

Logan swore he heard a low wolf whistle from one of the group, but when he glanced at them, everybody seemed to be engulfed in their own conversations. Ibrahim and Lydia's heads were close together, whispering conspiratorially in a way that was making Logan nervous.

"Yeah, I can help you," Hugo said, a goofy grin set on his face. "When do you want to do it?"

"Now?" Logan suggested, trying not to get distracted by the increasingly animated conversation beside him. Hugo must have noticed too, but he seemed unfazed.

"Oh? Now. Okay, Sure," Hugo nodded vigorously, brushing his hands through his hair. "We can do it now. I'm totally ready."

"Cool," Logan hummed, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole situation despite the uptick in his heart rate.

"Yeah, cool.”

Logan didn’t want to appear too eager so he waited for Hugo to stand first. Only it appeared Hugo had a similar idea bringing them to an impasse. Logan cringed internally, glad he currently had his back to Ibrahim because he could just imagine the mocking expression. He bolstered himself, letting his breath whistle through his teeth and laughed, hoping the noise sounded lighter than it did in his head. "Come on then," Logan said, rolling to his feet, offering his hand out. Hugo stared at it for so long, Logan was beginning to think perhaps he'd done something wrong. Then, Hugo slapped his own hand clumsily into it, pulling himself upright. Logan curled his fingers around the larger hand, holding onto it a second longer than necessary to help Hugo up. It was warm, slightly sweaty even, but Logan found himself wanting to test whether Hugo would keep their hands intertwined if he didn't let go. Still, a part of him was very aware of their current company, so Logan reluctantly pulled away.

As they walked away from the group, Logan braved a look behind him. Most of his friends quickly made to re-start their conversations, embarrassed to have been caught staring. However, the two he’d most suspected to lock eyes with had their heads down, fingers working furiously against their phone screens. Seconds later, Logan felt his phone vibrate. And then again, and again, and again.

Logan sighed, sending Hugo an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, let me just get this." He tugged his phone from his pocket, huffing when he saw the notification. Ibz created group 'Don't fuck this up Logan. He opened the chat, intending to mute it immediately, but curiosity got the better of him and he read through the messages quickly. Logan didn't have the third participant in his contacts so his phone just displayed the number, but if he wasn't already aware that it would be Lydia, the blunt tone of her messages would have given her away.

Ibz: His favourite colour is red!

Lydia: Why would that be helpful?

Lydia: Also, I think it might be green now ;)

Ibz: Lydia! That is not helpful! Logan, you can talk to him about hockey. He's been studying.

Lydia: That's true! He's kind of obsessed with dinosaurs too so try to work that into the conversation.

Logan worried at his lower lip, noticing that Hugo hadn't been inundated with messages. He could only surmise that Lydia and Ibz thought Logan was the only one of the pair that needed some extra help. He grumbled under his breath, typing out a reply with punishing taps against his screen.

Logan: Guys! Stop! I can handle this. Can you just stop meddling?

Lydia: If you say so. I am going to kick your ass if you hurt him though.

Ibz: Hey! That's harsh. Logan would never intentionally hurt Hugo.

Logan: Thanks Ibz! For the record, I'm muting this conversation now.

Logan smiled at how quickly Ibrahim had come to his defence, making a mental note to thank him in person later on. After following through with silencing his phone, he shoved the device back in his pocket, looking over at Hugo. He was sitting on his board, chin tucked against the palm on his hands, rocking slowly from side to side. He seemed content, but Logan still felt a little guilty about making him wait. "Sorry," Logan grimaced, "I'm all yours now. How about I show you what I'm doing, and you can correct me?"

#logan tremblay #noelle tremblay #cw: discovering sexuality #cw: sexuality crisis #sweater weather #coast to coast #rating: g

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anime-and-manga-rants · 3 years

Text

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly: Dr. Stone Episode 1

Well, it looks like I’m starting a series of sorts! I thought it would be fun to analyze the first episodes of a bunch of different anime, so here we are. I’ll be calling it “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” solely because it’s catchy, and I’ll be dividing my analyses into three categories (the Good, Bad, and Ugly). Essentially, everything I believe adds to the episode (thereby making it an intriguing and functional introduction) will fall under the “Good” category, everything that takes away from the episode will fall in “Bad,” and anything I find particularly egregious will find its way into the “Ugly” category.

So, to start this series off, I’ll be analyzing Dr. Stone’s first episode.

...

THE GOOD:

Let’s start with the opening line:

Honestly, I don’t have much to say about it. It’s nothing exceptional, and it’s not an opening line we’ll probably remember after another few episodes. It’s no Tale of Two Cities with its “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Still, it’s gripping enough to get people interested.

However, we shouldn’t ignore that the second line is:

Disregarding the narrator, everything is silent during the opening line. (Everyone is currently stone, after all.) It’s also got a dark, somewhat dreary color scheme. However, immediately after this image, we’re thrown into action. Taiju slams the door open and shouts, “Listen up, Senku!” It’s pretty jarring.

When this is placed just after the first line, it forces us to contrast the two. In other words, we notice the dichotomy of what currently is with what we know will be, and that keeps us interested. Not bad at all.

Next come the character introductions. Overall, just from the way the scene was set up, we learn a lot about our characters through subtleties, which is great. Plenty of showing and nearly no telling.

The first time we see Taiju, it’s with him bursting through the door of a classroom and yelling. We immediately know he’s loud, commits to the decisions he makes, and tends to lose sight of anything else when focused on something (made obvious when he announces his plans to confess to a classroom clearly full of students while only calling out for Senku). And, although he and Senku are clearly close, he can’t exactly predict what Senku will respond with, considering he doesn’t question when Senku supports him at first. Instead, when Senku turns around and says he won’t be cheering at all for Taiju, he exclaims, “Make up your mind!” Taiju is clearly quick to believe whatever he hears— he’s very trusting that whatever someone says is what they mean. We also learn he’s righteous when he pours out the “love potion” Senku makes for him.

The first time we see Senku, it’s with him hunched over an entirely too complex machine, surrounded by other classmates using simple test tubes and beakers. If we learn one thing from this first image, it’s that Senku knows a lot more about science than anyone else in the room. (This is confirmed by his later explanation of what was in the flask he handed to Taiju, and how he made the gasoline inside, but we really didn’t need it.) From his conversation with Taiju, we learn he doesn’t care much about romance, isn’t afraid to call people — even friends — out, and would rather rely on science — logic — alone.

As a side note, just because I couldn’t not mention it, I wanted to point out Senku counting for around 3700 years! Incredibly impressive. Shows how resourceful and determined he can be, but in an almost obsessive way. Very showing (see what I did there?) of his character.

There are plenty more minor things I enjoyed about this episode, but I don’t want this analysis to get too long.

...

THE BAD:

Honestly, there isn’t much to put in this category. My main complaint is some minor telling, with examples such as:

Taiju saying: “I’m going to confess the feelings I’ve had for Yuzuriha for the past five years!” Senku would probably know how long he’s had the crush, or at least have a vague idea. Even if Senku didn’t know, Taiju would have no reason to say this except for the audience’s benefit.

Same thing for Senku saying: “I’ll be cheering you on from right here in this science lab.” It’s very clearly a science lab. Any normal person would simply say “from right here” anyway. This, however, is barely worth mentioning. It’s such a minor issue that it takes nothing away from the audience— in other words, it’s unnecessary and a bit awkward, but it at least doesn’t take away the audience’s ability to discover something crucial about the plot or characters on their own.

There’s also the unfortunate anime trope where characters talk to themselves to reveal their way of thinking or present questions/answers the audience might not have come up with on their own, despite it being unrealistic. (But the writers want the audience to ask themselves these questions, or they want the audience to know a detail that they thought of, so they force the characters to prompt them somehow.) Here’s the biggest example:

(The manga and the anime line up almost word-for-word here, so I’m using the manga to conserve space. I think this is far less irritating than having to paste in three screenshots of the anime so I can show all the subtitles!)

Why would Taiju ever explain this, especially to himself? Anyone could come to that conclusion, so I can’t fault Taiju for thinking it, even if he usually doesn’t seem to put much thought into things. Still, disguising it as praise for a tree doesn’t eliminate the fact that it’s unrealistic and forced. (It almost makes it more forced, actually. Who praises a tree?) The writers clearly wanted us to know that the tree helped her, because the author thought up that little detail and wanted to include it to show how smart they are. (I know this because I, unfortunately, am guilty of this as well. It truly does hurt to delete those kinds of lines, I tell you.) In the end, it’s unrealistic telling through dialogue — which is already strange, because not many people think out loud like this — that the author forced to give us information that we honestly didn’t really need to begin with. Cool if we thought of it ourselves, but nothing lost if we didn’t.

Presented in a different way, say, for example, Senku casually mentioning it in passing around the time they revive Yuzuriha, it would be completely different. (Maybe, as they’re looking at her, he says something along the lines of, “Good thing this tree kept her intact.” Something simple and throwaway, almost.) Still superfluous information to an extent, but it does add something for viewers who might have missed it. It’s the fact that it’s so clearly forced into Taiju’s dialogue that makes it so offensive.

But, because this is so common in anime, I'll let it slide. Still a bit disappointing, though.

...

THE UGLY:

Honestly, I didn’t find anything overtly offensive about this episode. (Unlike The Promised Neverland, which I analyzed in a previous post— that one would’ve had quite a few mentions in the “Ugly” category. So don’t worry! This category won’t always be empty. If you were worried, that is. Probably not.)

Good for Dr. Stone!

...

Overall, Dr. Stone’s first episode has a lot more good than bad. It’s got an intriguing concept, the main protagonist is unique and clearly has his own voice, and the story it sets up is promising. Therefore, I’ll be giving it an A-.

#dr stone #dr stone manga #ishigami senku #senku ishigami #taiju oki #oki taiju #dr stone anime #manga analysis #anime analysis

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just-like-playing-tag · 3 years

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A totally self indulgent compilation of my favorite works on this blog of the year June 13, 2020 - June 13, 2021

2019-2020

The following lists are all in chronological order according to the date each post was first published.

Top 10 panel edits:

#1: It's our first morning

Date: Aug 20th, 2020 Time: ~ 2:18 h I really like how this one turned out!!! The 2020 Emma b-day edit has a lot of major panel redraws, but this is probably my favorite. I I really enjoy how I made the shadows work!! And the ear banfage looks pretty neat. Nice!!! Immagine

#2: Norman birthday edit 2021

Date: Mar 20th, 2021 Time: ~ 2:21 h Awww, soft Norman :') There was a bit to redraw, but I think everything turned out pretty neat!!! I believe everything works out fine. Though looking back at it, the part of the ID I added is definitely top small :')

#3: Manga dub: Yuugo gets knocked out

Date: Mar 27th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:05 h Here start the Manga Dub redraws to which I gave my everything ahah. This one turned out nice! I think the shoes turned out particularly good eheh. I like how Yuugo's clothing lineart- for the texture, I wanted to go for something heterogeneous, but I'm not fully confident in the final result. Gilda looks very rushed but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#4: Manga dub: Yuugo makes his dramatic entrance

Date: Apr 5th, 2021 Time: ~ 4:02 h This is pretty cool!!!! The coat took ages to redraw, but sis it turned out perfect!!! I'm very proud of this.

#5: Manga dub: RayGildEmma hug!!!

Date: Apr 9th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:31 h Awww, a beautiful panel I was really happy to have the chance to redraw. Taking into account what there was to redraw, I'm actually surprised with how little this took! Ray's backpack was a pain to make, but I think it turned out fine. I'm very happy with Emma and Ray's heads!!

#6: Manga dub: Formalities

Date: Apr 12th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:31 h It is not always easy to give sense to Demizu's perspective, but I do my best!!! In this I am *so* happy with how Don and Ray turned out, they look neat! The background on the other hand... It took hours to make ahah. I'm not fully confident in the perspective, but I'm happy with the details I've added- I really did my best to make it look like athe other manga panels and I think it paid off!!!

#7: Manga dub: We may be weaklings, but we're still alive

Date: Apr 30th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:37 h This little Emma is so cute!!!!!! I think the redraw turned out pretty perfect. I'm really satisfied with how this one turned out, and it's such a cute little Emma!!!! She's so brave and optimistic, I love her. It's a shame this panel didn't make it to the episode :')

#8: Manga dub: Goldy Pond Gang

Date: May 7th, 2021 Time: ~ 8:44 h lmao This is probably the panel redraw I'm the most proud of ever :') Just think everyone turned out very nice!! The ceiling is not exactly perfect, but it still works somehow. I'm very happy with how Gillian's back turned out!! I don't really like the fading effect on the right, but 8h in I got pretty tired of working on this ahah

#9: Manga dub: This is Goldy Pond

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 1:29 h I'm very glad for how the Manga dub has been challenging me to learn to redraw backgrounds, something I had quite literally never tried before. It can be a little frustrating, but it's so satisfying to see the final cleaned piece!! With this panel, I also learnt to use copy and paste, which is something I had never done before beyond texture

#10: Manga dub: Good morning doctor

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 3:42 h This is another background that turned out pretty good!! That one Norman is one I knew I would have had to fully redraw sooner or lager- the background was a bonus ahah. I'm very happy with the final result!!

Top 5 edits as whole:

#1: The Promised Neverland manga ending edit

Date: Jun 14th 2020 Time: ~ 12h 41min (5h 45min of cleaning panels in the edit + 5h 37min of cleaning panels that didn't make it to the edit + 1h 19min of resizing) + time spent cleaning panels I've deleted the file of so I can't see lmao This is overall very nice!!! The concept of an Emma evolution through her back is cool, and I think overall the edit turned out very aesthetically pleasing. The concept idea came to me while I was working on the 2019 Emma's birthday edit, a long time before the manga ending announcement- back then I wouldn't have imagined using it in occasion of the manga ending, but I think it ended up making a nice tribute. The colors add a nice touch, since so far my edits had always been black and white- it makes a sweet closure. To make that edit I selected 76 panels of Emma framed from her back; I plan to make other versions of that edit using the discarded panels eventually!

#2: Emma - Chapter 181: Beyond Destiny

Date: Jul 12th 2020 Time: 2h 57min My last edit for the manga 🥺🥺 I think this one is my very "manga ending edit" because to me it really signed the ending of weekly chapters and their weekly chapter edits. It makes me a little sad to look at it, but it's also, I don't know, kinda sweet to see how I grew both in my panel cleaning and as a person since I first started my blog. I'm glad I got into TPN!

#3: Emma birthday edit 2020

Date: Aug 22nd 2020 Time: 8h 54min This one turned out so well!!! Though I used the same concept for all the trio edits, I think this one is the best one. The two panels on the left / two panels on the right alternation combo never fails ahah. The colors are nice (shout-out to my sister for making me a palette), despite the fact that it was hard for the lighter ones to make them work with the images without having those disappear. I'm very satisfied with the panels I chose for this, I think they work really good together! Also, it got me very happy to read everyone's comments saying they liked the fading effect in the last panel :)

#4: Emma + Eyes Close Ups [1/?]

Date: Jan 24th 2021 Time: 5h 55min This one was really nice!! Another idea I got when working on the 2019 Emma birthday edit I was glad to finally execute. Started the edit in September, finished it in December. I'm overall very happy with how it turned out... I hope I will be able to make more in the future!

#5: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (9/?) » 114 // 122

Date: Feb 23th 2021 Time: 5h 7min (panel cleaning only) Aaaaahh I really like this one!!!! A parallel I love very much, and I'm really happy with how the edit turned out. All the hair redrawing looks neat!!!! The gif is maybe a little excessive, but I think overall it's a nice edit. I like it!!! Fun fact, I completed it on August 26th 2020, but I couldn't find the right moment to post it ahah.

Honorable mention: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (5/?) » 08 // 16

Date: Aug 30th 2020 Time: 2h 52min (Second picture cleaning only; I deleted the first picture art file so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) I don't have much to say about this one except!! It turned out very nice!!!!! Love the pen lmao.

Top 10 analysis:

Too many analysis,,

#1: Post chapter 181 Emma analysis

Date: Jul 9th 2020 Mmmh a nice analysis. I think it was important for me to put down in words what I think of Emma's characterization and the manga ending, so I'm happy I did it!

#2: A long Oliver analysis because I love him very much

Date: Dec 6th 2020 What can I say I just love Oliver tons 😔😔💕💕 This was very fun to make!!!

#3: TPN s2 previsions

Date: Jan 14th 2021 Really love the effort that went into this + me proving that 11 episodes GP could have possibly worked + it's just a lot of fun to read again after s2 ended pffft

#4: More s2 delusional previsions lmao

Date: Jan 27th 2021 I think the points and previsions I made where pretty neat!! In my defense, it was pretty impossible to predict the anime would have ended with this season. I always feel honoured when friends and Anon ask for my opinion, I'm like "you wanna know what I think? Wow. I'm flattered (◍•ᴗ•◍) " Thank you to anyone who ever sent me an ask!!

#5: Why Emma not wearing pants is 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘

Date: Jan 29th 2021 Really proud of this!!! Pants Emma is important!!!!!

#6: Post episode 5 manga Emma analysis

Date: Feb 4th 2021 A depressed analysis, but a necessary one 😔

#7: Norman analysis

Date: Feb 12th 2021 I love him!!!! And I'm happy I eventually got to put down in words what I love about his character. The day I posted this ww3.readneverland was in maintenance so I couldn't use the volume scans for it- the thought of that post having fan edited and fan translated scans still haunts me

#8: RayDon rambles

Date: May 12th 2021 I had a blast writing this and like. It's likely the post of mine I reread more often of them all. I love this ship tons!!!!! I'm satisfied with how I put down in words what I like about them. I LOVE THIS SHIP

#9: Chapter 58 analysis

Date: May 23th 2021 I've wanted to express this concept since like the first time reading the manga- I'm so happy I finally did!!!! This concept is one of my absolute favorite things about tpn- the feelings that people are good. The concept that kids who got to live in an healthy and supportive environment will always be inclined to kindness and altruism, because humans are just inherently good. From the Three Character Classic: “people at birth are inherently good”. I want to have faith and courage to hold on the goodness in myself, and to hold on the goodness in the world, no matter how difficult it to do that (Chloé Zhao).

#10: Norman and Lambda squad relationship analysis

Date: May 24th 2021 I think this was a pretty sharp analysis and I like what I did with it!!

Other stuff:

#1: Krone birthday edit

Date: Jul 15th 2020 This edit is so good ;; Like not perfect since it was my first attempt at coloring gifs but still I believe it turned out so good ;;;;;; The time and effort that went unto this is crazy, but... Maybe I'm happy to have dedicated time to something I like for a satisfying result.

#2: Get to know my ship- Wolfpack Trio

Date: Aug 24th 2020 Uuuh a good post. A good ship.

#3: Gilda + blank glasses

Date: Aug 27th 2020 This is such a cute nice compilation!!! I love looking at it. A few panels are missing but still :')

#4: Apollo Ray AU

Date: Sep 7th 2020 (Though it was written Sep 2nd 2019 lmao) I'm so happy I finally gathered the courage to post this 😭😭 I really enjoy what I did with this AU, so this one and its other installments are all posts I have a lot of fun rereading. More than everything, I was astounded and overjoyed by the positive response it got: that gave me tons of confidence to put my ideas out there, no matter how unique they sound!!! Here's to hoping I will be able to post my RayEmma Hadestown AU, by other big AU from late summer 2019 :')

#5: TPN timeline project

Date: Dec 2nd 2020 This is like. I don't know it's a lot ahah. Arguably the project I'm the most proud of ever making. I'm just so happy of all the months long hard work and of the final result!! The post didn't receive much response (though the ones I got were extremely kind and sweethearted so that totally makes up for it), but in the end I don't really mind? I'm just so proud I accomplished that idea :')

#6: TPN calendar

Date: Jan 4th 2021 A nice sum of the tpn timeline + everyone's birth dates!!! I really like how it turned out visually. It's a cute little tpn calendar!!!

#7: Ray smiles compilation

Date: Jan 17th 2021 Ray's smile. That's it that's the post :')

#8: Trans Oliver headcanons

Date: Jan 24th 2021 MMMH really like this headcanon I think about it a lot

#9: Thoma and Lani theory

Date: Jan 28th 2021 I really don't want to brag but this is the best joke I've ever made :')

#10: My TPN AUs

Date: May 10th 2021 Ok you gotta admit those are very good AUs, I'm glad to have made a list out of them!!!

#11: Ranking Emma promotional art outfits

Date: May 16th 2021 This is one people seem to have liked a lot which makes me happy ahah. I'm glad to know we can all agree Emma deserves more pants outfits!! Please stop it with the gendered clothing :') This is the post I want to be remembered for

#12: TPN musicals AU part 2

Date: May 20th 2021 A GREAT POST I can't stretch enough how happy I am with those character-song associations. I hope I have time to make a part 3 in the future!!

#13: TPN Drive folder

Date: May 30th 2021 This was born as a way for me to have all the tpn extra contents easily accessible, but I'm happy to have shared it with people- I hope it will turn out to be useful to others too!

#14: TPN s2 recolorings

Date: Jun 12th 2021 A more diverse children cast is good for the soul :')

That's it, this year was really fun!! Thank you to everyone who supported me through it, I can't express how grateful I am for all the kindness and validation I received. Here's to many more months in the fandom!!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

#mine #tpn #the promised neverland #tpn manga spoilers #Tumblr: *literally refuses to let me open the post*#Me: *Turns on my computer* B*TCH YOU THOUGHT I'M POSTING THIS TODAY AND NOTHING IS GOING TO STOP ME #Been working on this for four hours now.. I'm literally dead...#Also thank you Tutu for deleting the other post you're the sweetest :')#Once again this is just a personal report you don't have to read all (or any) of it unless you want to :)#Ok to reblog btw #I'll click the post button now I don't want to hear anyrhing else

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Finale Review: The Last Adventure! or So Long and Thanks for All The Ducks

Hello all you happy people. The day we’ve all simultaneously waited for and dreaded is here. The grand finale to a five year journey.. and for me an almost one year journey of covering season 3 as it came out. It was thanks to this show i’ve been able to make money doing what I love. Without it I never would’ve found my patreon Kev, and I never woul’dve had the solid focus to keep going as long as I have. And I never would’ve had all you lovely people reading my work. Thank you for that. I hope you’ll stick around even though the series is gone, I love you all. But as the sun sets on this series I have one last episode of the season, and the series to cover. I won’t be doing it in my usual recap style due to it’s sheer length and scope, but I promise you if you join me under the cut I will break down eveyrthing I can about this final adventure, it’s huge, awe inspiring twists.. and it’s heartwarming conclusion. It’s everything you could want from a finale short of a Grandma Duck Cameo, and i’ts under the cut with full spoilers. Seriously if you do not want any spoilers TURN BACK NOW. I’m opening with probably the biggest spoiler of the finale.

I Think She’s A Clone Now You were warned. So.. Webby is Scrooge’s Clone, made by FOWL as part of a decades long scheme to find the papyrus of binding, and raised by Beakly to keep this precious child out of their sinister clutches. I have hundreds of reaction images, several for what the fuck.. none of them seem sufficient.. ALL OF THEM together like some megazord of what the fuck are not sufficient for how much this reveal caught me off guard. It caught ALL of us off guard. I’m sure even those who called it still were suprised that’s the direction it took. I think we all expected her parents died by FOWL, or her parents were FOWl with Pepper being one of them, or anything else. So naturally it took around 14 drafts, and me going the fuck to sleep as I had stayed up to watch the finale and thought I could just smoothly transition into writing the review despite there being a LOTTTTT to unpack.

Even after the recharge though this took a bit of doing... so now i’ve done it... what’d I think? Whelp....

I liked it. I like it the more I think about it. Even the problems I had with it just kinda melted away as I thought about it. I understand if you do not. This twist will not be for everyone, it changes Webby’s character and story entirely, ruins tons of fan theories, and in general is batshit even for a series that in the same finale, turned Manny into a shout out to Gargoyles, complete with Keith “My Body is Ready” David. This series is genuinely batshit and loves it, but this is a LOT to ask dramatically, a lot to rewrite expectation wise and a lot to thinka bout. There’s a reason besides sleep deprevation it took me a whlie to fully grasp how I felt. So if you don’t like it fine, but i’m going to make my best case.

Starting with something that made me realize I fully like it: It dosen’t invalidate Webby’s charcter. The one little problem I had left was “Well dosen’t Webby having the McDuck bloodline mean she couldn’t be specail if she wasn’t a McDuck? That sure the rest of the cast are specail but you can’t be really important without it?” Honestly.. no. Webby is who she is not because she’s a McDuck.. but because she’s Webby. She got her martial arts and mystery solving skills through Beakly and being raised. She had intate talent sure.. but as we’ve seen with the boys through the whole series, talent has to be honed. Skill has to be earned and learned. Webby worked hard to research other civilizations, worked hard to hone herself into a deadly fighting machine with her mother’s help, worked hard to be every bit as cool as her idol who turned out to be her biological dad. She earned her badassery, her wisdom and her courage SQUARE.

And more than that she’s her own person. Her adoptive parent and biological parent are both paranoiacs afraid of betryal, unwilling to trust, and slow to let anyone in. By all accounts Webby should be the same.. but she’s not. Oh sure she has some paranoia and is willing to slit some throats, she was raised by the world’s best spy and is the daughter of the world’s greatest hero, that was never going to be gone entirely. But at her core she just wants to trust people. She just wants to love them and be loved. And.. that’s why her family loves her. Because she’s the kindest, the warmest and the best of them. They love her because she’s Webby and that’s she’s family, they could care less who she’s related to. All it really changes is how Scrooge acts around her and that gives us fans tons to work with.

It’s also expertly revealed, which helped ease us into it. Webby is just as shocked and confused as we are and is seriously hurt, which makes her vulnerable to the villains. Kate Miccui deserves a goddamn award for voice acting and if their isn’t an award show for that their should be. While she’s been fantastic with Webby all series long this is her finest performance, going from Webby’s usual self, to all the hurt she goes through.. to her quitter moments at the end, calling Scrooge dad and giving out a little noise that makes it clear as Beakly tries to leave, that no.. she’ still her family.. she’s still her mom and she’s not going anywhere.

As for the concept being a bit ridiculous yes it is.. but so is this universe. This universe is entirely insane in the best fucking way possible: I mean.. look at this final group shot.

We have an old man whose somehow still alive simply because he was too busy to die, an inventor whose cloned himself multiple times so clones are fesable and is probably a clone himself given how the last finale went, an awkward armored superhero and his biotech filled girlfriend, a small boy robot weapon of discretion who put his head on his brother’s body, a no longer headless manhorse former harbinger of the apocalypse with the silky voice of keith david as one big homage to gargoyles, a lesbian living shadow and her sister, a superhero who based himself on a fictional character and his boyfriend/sidekick who by all accounts should be dead by now, a lesbian military superheroine from the moon, STORKULES COCKBLOCKER OUT OF MYTH, his moong goddes sister, two adopted family stunt pilots, a bunch of super intelligent mice, an odd duck whose kinda sorta dating a giant shrimp, his cousin with super luck powers, my globetrotting boys, an immortal treasure hunter and in the family proper: a former spy turned adopted mom of a clone, a woman who lived on the moon for a good decade, a man who once trapped everyone in what would essentially be the plot of the mcu’s second best work by pure accident, a blue boy whose piloted a plain, captained pirates, and has his own talk show, a green boy whose ran a multi-trillion dollar company, nearly destroyed all of time and space and is under investigation for fraud, and a red boy who has a hulk-esque rage filled embodiment of all his suppressed emotions, whose fondest wish was tall legs, and who can easily take out a giant magica supermachine with some fancy wiring. So the richest duck in the world having a clone daughter, while divisvie and what not.. is far more plausable than we give it credit for. As are her new sisters who Id in’t forget but are part of the whole twist.

So yeah, I like the twist and my nitpick is more that despite having a full season to set it up.. they saved it for the last episode. Instead of BUILDING on Webby’s desire to know more about her family and having the twins show up earlier.. it’s all shove into the finale. It’s a well done shoving but there’s so much that could be explored with Webby being Scrooge’s daughter, so much that futzes with the regular family dynamics and we don't’ get any of it. Sure it was probably saved for a possible season 4 but they treated this season as the last. Manny being an apocalyptic man horse voiced by the uber sexy keith david, and no I will not stop bringing that up even outside of it’s own section and why yes it is getting it’s own section, is the kind of revelation you can leave for one last episode. “One of the main cast is a clone” really isn’t and that’s disapointing.

Especially since thinking back to life and times.. Webby IS a lot like Scrooge was before circumstance hardened him. She’s tough, resourceful.. but also has a peppy spirit to her. It adds interesting shades to her character, where she zigs where Scrooge zags, how much of it is her upbringing with Granny versus his with his parents, how much did Beakley play into it. There’s A lot to dig into and given I have most of the series left to review, I will get to dig into it, and there’s a lot to be explored in fanfic so if I wasn’t already planning a massive one before I sure as fuck am now. So it’s not a bad twist nor bad we get to write the future.. but I do wish the crew THEMSELVES had done more with it. Still my bar for “not fucking up the entire show” is pretty low after Star Vs ended with her committing implied genocide to stop a genocide and How I Met Your Mother ended “But the real journey was in how much I want to bang, bang bangity bang I said a bang bang bangity bang your aunt robin now your mother conveniently died”. I can handle “This twist is kind of weird but also really intresting.” If the twist isn’t for you, as I said i get it. This is my opinion. Now for the thing I won’t shut up about.

I LIVE AGAIN:

Look i’ve made no secret how thirsty I am for Keith David nor how much of a national treasure I rightly believe him to be. He’s one of my faviorite voice actors, with a mind boggling number of awesome rolls, mostly recently as a fowl mouthed coffe cup encouraging a teacher to sabotage his rival teachers breaks on close enough. Even if I didn’t like Gargoyles, which I do, i’d have an entire section talking about that Manny reveal.

Manny was already objectively one of the best parts of the show, a hilariously weird addition that was also relatable as he just wanted to fit in. I did not know you could make him better. Then they gave him Keith David’s voice and revealed he’s one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, but doesn’t want to end the world he just wants to be a normal dude, AND turned him into a shout out to the last part of the disney afternoon they hadn’t touched, my favorite part of it and a show i’ve been sitting on watching in full for far too long. Motherfucking Gargoyles.

But given how unique it was for the Disney Afternoon and how much Disney had no desire to ever reference or use the franchise, still no fucking clue as to why they are sitting on money here, I expected it to be sadly but understandably left out. Instead they made Manny into an expy for them, gave him the voice of their leader Goliath, the voice of an angel, and had him say “I LIVE AGAIN” complete with the utterly transcendent theme song. Seriously give it a listen.

youtube

So yeah I couldn’t not mark out at this. Amazing fucking stuff and almost as unexpected as the clone thing and easily my second faviorite part of the fiinale only NARROWLY topped by the curtain call. Which we’ll get to. Keith David took his time getting to this series but they saved the best guest voice for last. Utter tremendous.

Huey Season?: I”ll save more of this for my breakdown as the season as a whole but yeah while the finale as a whole was good.. I do feel Huey got short changed. He got PLENTY of development this season, and some REALLY good scenes with Bradford.. but ultimately he got overshadowed by the Webby thing. it just never quite felt like Huey got a real resolution to his character arc the way his brothers did. He still got some REALLY good moments, his “Just cough up the information Bentina!” was one of his finest and Danny Pudi did his best. The BUILDUP was good but hte payoff was non existant and easily the weakest part of an otherwise triumphant finale. I feel the final plot was ultimately just a bit too jam packed to really have Huey feel vital to it the way Dewey was to the Della arc and Louie was to his own arc. Both tgot big emotional payoffs in his finale but the most I could gather here was he accepted adventure? I guess. It just really feels off, like I missed the payoff to everything when it’s probably just nonexistent and that bothers me a lot. In a finale that was almost all hit.. this was easily the biggest misstep. I don’t have as much to say here on it.. but that’s because it’s really that simple: they gave Huey’s arc a ton of build up in this last episode and some of his others, really made him into Bradford’s good counterpart.. then just sorta.. forgot it because “oh shit Webby’s scrooge’s daughter kinda need to pull focus here”. Had they given this arc at least one more episode, we might of had time for it. Granted i’m not sure how much they could get away with but we clearly needed at least one more episode and what they chose to jettision, the climax to Huey’s story.. was way more important than they clearly thought and i’m heavily disappointed.

Bradford’s Big Hole Speaking of payoffs the missing mysteries payoff.. is a mixed bag. I expected all of them to combine some how into some elaborate plan I just wasn’t seeing. In hindsight it does make sense that wasn’t it: Bradford hates overcomplicated schemes, so his would be incredibly simple and require as few moving parts as possible. It still dosen’t stop the fact that the big plan to cap off the entire series built over a season... was to build a giant stygian hole of non existence to throw people into.

Yes really. Instead of using the Payprus to write them out of existance, if carefully worded or try doing it all at once or anything practical.. Bradford just plans to shove everything he dosen’t want in the world anymore into a hole. Look i’ts not like it ruins the episode, there’s still tons of tension from him holding Scrooge’s loved ones over his hole and threating to throw them into it’s gaping void. And it’s foiled by a 12 year old just.. shutting it off. Like I get him leaving an off switch on, that’s just common sense.. but why wouldn’t he have a remote or something to turn it back on? one with a password or something to lock it. There’s something inherently underwhelming about as series ending plan that can be summed up “hope no one shuts my unguarded hole. “

The finale does make for it by using the missing mysteries all in VERY clever ways. In fact every episode in the season had some sort of payoff here. It’s what makes up for how baffling the main plan is: every other thing, from the missing mysteries to the guest stars has lead up to this one moment, this one final adventure. Which leads me too

An Hurricane of Payoffs:

So from the top Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks!: Isabella Finch herself ends up being VITAL to the story and to Bradford’s backstory, as does Junior Woodchucking as a whole. Quack Pack!: Gene is the fuel for Blot’s glove.. though he also fucks off right afterwords.. never to be seen again or help out at any point...

Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice!: This was the most unexpected and elevated the episode in hindsight for me as what seemed like a waste of time.. wound up setting up the first part of the finale, and the final battle with Steelbeak, and in clever ways with Steelbeak using the intelliray on himself, Launchpad muttering the map in his sleep via his smart self and Dewey remembering the base layout.

The Lost Harp of Mervana: Used as a lie detector for that heartbreaking interrogation scene.

Louie’s Eleven: Introduced Daisy setting up Donald’s plot which i’ll get to.

Astro BOYD: My baby boy comes back for this episode! He also gets one of the best lines of it “I’m a Head!”. That is the most ralph wiggum the boy has ever been. I’m so proud.

Rumble For Ragnarok: Okay I was wrong nothing from this one comes back. Still a great episode. Same with the trickening. Both are VERY stellar episodes though, so I give it a pass. You can’t give a nod to EVERYTHING.

The Phantom and the Sorceress: The Blot and Super Sayian God Super Sayian Lena, as well as Lena’s character development from said episode. They Put a Moonlander on the Earth!: Launchpad helping Penny realize her purpose. Forbidden Fountain: Jeeves is un-babied as a trap Let’s Get Dangerous!: Drake and Gosalyn Return, and Solageo’s Circut ends up being vital to the climax.. in the strangest and funnest way to say possible but still. It counts. Escape from the Impossibin: Beakley’s near breakdown at the idea FOWL has come back. It was already heartbreaking and the first adventure had made it even more so.. but now it’s out and out DEVISTATING. The one thing after her daughter is not only back.. but SHE’S the reason he’s in Scrooge’s life and home and her giving up SHUSH has now left her wide open.

The Split Sword: Probably the best out of all of these as it ends up directly playing into the climax in an awesome way i’m saving for Bradfords New Gods: Storkules shows up. Okay so that every episode claim bit me on the ass. Also when did these two meet? I mean probably at end of spear of selene but the more important question is WHY DID YOU ROB ME OF THESE TWO MEETING AT ANY POINT IN THE SERIES.

The First Adventure: Naturally the Payprus comes back as Does herons needling bradford to stop denying what he is.

Fight For Castle McDuck: Suprisingly the blessed bagpipes ended up being VITALLY important. And giving us sexiest man alive infinity years running Keith David for an episode. Last Christmas; Santa Cameo

Beaks in the Shell: Gandra being taken and the Lost Library being setup for this episode.

Lost Cargo: The Stone of What Was. And Credit where its due what FELT like simply a filler episode with a tantengal connectoin.. ended up probably being one of the most important episodes. Fair play.

Life and Crimes: Magica turning Bradford into a non sentient bird, like what happened to her brother.... proving once again this episode really REALLY needed as subplot attached to lead into the finale or something.

Bonus Round: Pilot payoffs by the pound. Seriously Scrooge and Donald’s last lines to each other, the badass return of “I’m a Pilot”, more on that in a minute, and even other smaller call backs like “Keep Getting Up” and webby sucessfully getting some juice to Louie’s pride. All top notch stuff and it really makes the finale FEEL like one with all this coming back full circle. So i’ve hinted at it enough, let’s bring on the bad guy.

The First Woodchuck

We’ve had some mixed payoffs so let’s get to one that’s just out and out excellent. Bradford Buzzard.. is the best villian the show ever had. Now I will give the caveat that my favorite forever and always will be

You know it, I know it. But Bradford is the best genuine threat of the series, with Marc Evan Jackson perfectly balancing his menace and genuine evil.. with his steadfast believe that he isn’t evil, and his calm, controlled business demeanor. It’s one of the best performances of the show and he deserves all the credit for it and after seeing him in supporting roles for his career, even if his role as Kevin on Brooklyn Nine-Nine is fucking awesome and I’m sad that show is ending, it’s nice to see him step into a big meaty role as the big bad and utterly nail it.

And the finale.. pays eveyrthing off with him, apart from the plan itself perfectly. Starting off him being revealed as Isabella Finch’s grandson... was a stroke of genius. I didn’t expect her to come back in play but it gives perfect reason both why he knew about the mysteries.. and why he’s like this.

Like Scrooge did with his nephews, niece and daughter, Isabella dragged Bradford all around the world seeing the unseen, thinking it was fun. The problem was... Bradford HATED it. He hated every minute of it, like as one post pointed out Rusty Venture from the Venture bros, and felt he should be in school. He wanted a normal life and a normal world and not.. this waking nightmare. So to him, fixing the world, stopping this sort of thing is the only way and that doing so is a good thing. His problem is how he adapted to it.

We see that best in his mirror images, the people he’s in direct contrast with and the show knows it. Starting off with the one he’s not like at all is Scrooge. Part of what makes Bradford perfect is he’s Scrooge’s evil opposiite. The Luthor to His Superman, The Joker to his Batman, the Green Goblin to his Spider-Man, the Iron Monger to his Iron Man, the Sinestro to his Green Lantern. Both come from a long line of adventure but while Scrooge embraces that and loves it, Bradford hates it and wants to destroy it. One is energetic and always ready, the other’s calm, calculated. And one sees what he is.. and the other dosen’t. Simple as that.

But his other mirror’s are more like him, moving onto Huey. Their both woodchucks, both prefer caution and planning, and both want to make some sense of a nonsensical world. Both want to feel safe when they constnatly don’t. One’s prone to panic attack the other’s calm. But what makes Huey the better man... is that he accepts the world is the way he is. It goes all the way back to terror of the terrafirmains. While he was all for adventure he started his doubting things, not beliving things were real.. because the reality that there are some things you just can’t prepare for, just can’t know, and you can’t be always ready.. it shattered him. He nearly let himself die rather than live knowing what’s out there. Webby pulled him out of that, literally and figuratively.. and he never went back. Sure he still tries to have an order to things, still breaks when his structure’s broken.. but it’s gone from a paranoid fear of the unknown and weird to embracing it. To relishing in finding unsolved mysteries and new clues to unlock, to finding new things to explore. He went from seeing this chaotic world as something to run from, to embracing and studying it. To loving it the way it is the way his family loves him for who he is. Bradford.. denies reality belongs the way it is and wants to force it into what HIS idea of it is Superboy Prime Style. The world isn’t waht he thought it should be so he’ll MAKE it that way. Huey grew as a person.. while his arc didn’t have a full payoff.. it still pays off here by showing what he COULD’VE been. had he let his earlier fear and his always present neurosis drive him like Bradford has. Let his big brain make him think he knows what’s better for EVERYONE instead of using it to genuinely help people. Bradford lacks the boys heart and empathy and that’s why he fell. Huey had his family backing him, his best friends coming to get him, and his brothers ultimately rescue him. Bradford.. threw his only true ally down a styigan murder hole.

Finally.. we have the one that’s not brought up directly.. but is very much there. Donald. While the two don’t interact hardly at all... it’s VERY fitting that Donald is the one Bradford picks to threaten Scrooge with. Like Bradford... Donald grew to hate adventure, he wanted to get as far away from it as possible and took it from his boys for as long as he could. Granted that was in part Bradford’s fault, and that was an INCREDIBLY clever twist: it dosen’t make him entirley responsible or anything that robs the moment of it’s imapct, Della still chose to take it out by herself, she still lied to Donald and she still got lost all by her own decision and impuslviness. But it fits perfectly into it: Bradford’s horrifying smile when Scrooge gets taken away from saving her is even WORSE now with full context, and it still fits that knowing about the project.. he’d want to set it up to screw up Scrooge’s life. I don’t think he sabotaged the rocket or anything, too obvious and something Della would’ve mentioned by now.. but he knew it was unfinished.

Back to the parallel the diffrence is once again.. change. Donald let go of his hate of scrooge and his past and realized it wasn’t all bad. He let himself grow as a person after a decade of bitterness and anger. But most tellingly and poignantly is Quack Pack... both had a chance to make a world that was safe, normal and what they always wanted. Both out of terror of the danger of this world. Thing is.. Donald’s was noble. He feared for his kids, his sister, his uncle.. loosing one again and any of them at all. He wanted a normal life to be safe, to hide from that.. but it’s not what THEY wanted or who they are. He accepted that’s not how the world works and how it does.. is still pretty great. And his growth shows: he’s ending the series planning to go off with his girlfriend globetrotting, KNOWING things might not be safe, but diving into adventure, having accepted it as part of him. He even finds some new family and takes in two girls who badly needed a home. He learned to accept things how they are... and Bradford refuses, not beliving in this world as it is and vowing to force it into the way he wants it to be.

And it’s that inherent selfishness.. that makes Bradford the Cartoon Supervillian he desperatley claims he isn’t. Bradford dosen’t care how many lives it takes, how much worse it makes the world, or how many people he has to stab in the back... the world WILL be “normal”. Bradford cares for no one and nothing except his own ambition. He kills Heron despite her loyality, and his own clones who loyally served him.. simply because their chaos too. No one or nothing else matters, not how they feel, not their right to exist.. only HIS vision. If he wanted to keep the world safe he’d be more of a hero, if still throughly a bastard... but he dosen’t. He wants to make it “normal”. He wants the world the way he thinks it shoudl be and damn anyone else and perfectly represents all the old assholes like him today who refuse to accept something diffrent or against the norm because “that’s how it’s always been”. Like those real world assholes.. Bradford is wrong. The Duckverse is beauitful how it is in it’s chaos and risk and love. And he just can’t see it because it’s not what he WANTS to see.

And that’s why I also love the Sword giving him big, black and red classic villianous monster, slowly mutating him as he fights the duck family. Because that’s his inner strength: he may deny he’s a villian but he’s forcing his will on others, refuses to see the world as it is for selfish reasons, and is willing to kill his own friends and allies if it means getting it. He’s the bad guy. And while he denies it to those around him... it’s clear from the fact the sword is working for him that he KNOWS IT, he knows he’s a villian and this is just what he wants but is so up his own ass he can’t SAY it or admit it. And in the end he’s fully beaten by the fact that his forcing his will on everything’s what’s unnatural: While his plan was ingenious, have scrooge sign a contract agreeing never to adventure again, since he’s right Scrooge would solve nonexistance it’s the same reason “launch hulk into space” only resulted in a smarter, more skilled hulk coming back with a space army to get revenge. He just didn’t bank on the inherent rediclousness of the unvierse: family really is the greatest adventure of all.. and the papyrus accepted it. It was the one thing he coudln’t palnf or because he can’t see the woirld how it is.. and that’s why he lost. He was so confident how he saw the world and how he worked was the only way... another way beat him.

His fate.. was also awesome and endleslly apporirate. Being mocked by the other villians who while less capable aside from Magica, at least admit what they are and what their doing.. and turned into a Vulture for Magica, left to be a mindless lackey in tons of chaotic schemes for the rest of his life. It couldn’t of happened to a nicer jackass. Okay three more sections to go. Let’s go.

Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away With Daissssyyyy

Donald’s leaving for a long, romantic adventure with Daisy is the perfect capper to Doanld’s character. Donald started the series hating adventure: blaming it for della being gone, his rough times during it, and wanted to escape it in the boat and keep from loosing his kids to it. He felt like a looser for not having reached his dreams or properly provided for his nephews, when really he did his best and still raised three wonderful kids. A bit overproective, god yes.. but despite his grief and anger he still got through ten years with them on his own merits, hard work and determination.

As the series went he reconclied with his past, realized Scrooge lost something too and that blaming him soley when it was Della’s choice was just taking his anger out on the one person he had left to take it out on instead of embracing his only family left, accepted Storkules as his friend (JUST his friend), accepted adventure through quack pack realizing that while it may be weird, dangerous and sometimes stressful for him... it’s what his family love doing and they should be who they are instead of who he wants them to be, and finally.. accepted himself by finding Daisy, someone who loves him for who he is, and literally and metaphorically understands him and turned right back around from dumping him to save him from a giant monster she roared at. He’s finally at peace.

And that’s why leaving. Not forever, He , Daisy, and his girls will be back in a few months or even a month. It’s very clear this is a vacation.. but it’s one he’s earned. He’ll always love his boys, his surrogate daughter/cousin, his sister, and his best buddy launchpad. But it’s okay for him to want to form his OWN family, to spend time with his future wife and show her the world. To make his own story for once instead of sharing it. To find his voice.

I also find it very poetic that a story that started with Donald raising his nephews like their dad.. ends with him adopting two more children. Two kids whose lives had been misrable: rapidly aged in tubes, deemed failures, constantly bellittled by the closest things they have for parents, so desperate for answers they’d kidnap their own sister and betray her trust and do things they know are wrong, And all this.. for nothing as their Dad kills their mom, bad as she was, and plans to kill them. And Donald’s first thought when given the chance to have a kid free time to himself, with no guilt having earned it? To take these girls in, start his own family, if Daisy’s cool with it mind he thankfully clearly called to talk this over first, and give them their own. Because that’s who Donald is, a good man whose finally earned his happy ending and the life he always wanted.. and accepted who he always was. An adventuerer, a loving fiance.. and dad.

The Real Hero: One last one before the bonus round and a quick one. The Launchpad Scene.. was one of the shows best. His arc in this episode of thinking he’s not a hero.. made sense. He’s been plenty heroic.. but his boyfriend is a martial arts and gymnastics savant and one of his three best friends has a giant suit of armor and is a genius. But the payoff made even more: He may not be the strongest, the most skilled or the smartest.. but he has the heart of a hero. He’s always been the kindest, most trusting, most friendly one of the main family, a guy who never gives up, even when he should, never surrenders and loves everybody. And that’s why he’s inspired so many people: Fenton to not give up after his firing and keep going, leading to his path as Gizmoduck. When Drake was lost, his fllm gone and his mentor seemingly dead (In fact skulking around the sewers like an evil ninja turtle), and his future unclear... TOLD HIM he could be Darkwing, that he could become the hero they both ihdolized and the inspiration to kids he wanted to be by his own bootstraps, and he gave Gosalyn faith in darkwing and hope at at time she had none. He also gave those mice their freedom. Not as poignant but you try creating the rescue rangers and see how far you get. I’ve lost a lot of chipmunks and mice that way.

Launchpad’s last stand makes up for his lack of being in the season during the final half. Launchpad realizing that despite his quirks he’s just as noble, valuable and wonderful as his families, both of them. And that he is a pilot. Sure he gets the gizmoduck armor.. but the armor isn’t what makes hi ma hero... i’ts being launchpad that makes him a hero. Loving adopted dad, wonderful partner, best friend... and a pilot

Bonus Round:

Okay this is just stray stuff from throughout the episode I didn’t have several paragraphs worth of material on before we get to the final thoughts. But it had so much good I can’t not talk about it. So...

Gyro calling Little Bulb BOYD’s brother. My heart wept. So sweet. As was him fixing his son at the end. BOYD has the two loving families he deserves.. and the brother he deserves.. and the brother he dosen’t deserve who will probably also is skulking around the sewers like an nafarious ninja turtle as the series ends.

Gosalyn fixing up Darkwing’s outfit for him. Awwww. Adopt that child you coward. Also if they don’t base the reboot on frank’s work here, I will riot.

“Just cough up the information Bentina!” that was just pure comedy gold especially the sheer fear radiating off him. Also right.

Manny’s “I can explain” and , once he has silky smooth keith david voice going “Come on man I just want to live my life.” That man is a legend.

Dewey and Louie just not talking the “you kids stay behind shit” pointing out both their stake in this and how they’ll just go anyway and him proudly accepting it. Given the kids turned the tied of things a lot, good call.

Dewey and Don Karnage singing their own background music as they air joust. Hell yes.

Pepper got a promotion! Goodf or her... it’s meaningless now but hey she has a partner in both senses.

Speaking of pepper she had the best line of the episode “He’s a grown man who has the strength of a baby!”. Only Amy Sedaris could’ve given that delivery just the perfect way she did.

The Funzo’s opening sequence was dynamite, from how well set up it was as an infilfration, to Webby having learned how to scam free drinks (Louie was so proud), to Lena cheating for her sister at DDR, to Scrooge paying full price.. it was wonderful> The payoff was also great as rather than be mad her special day was used as part of an elabroate spy operation.. she’s giddy. Because of course she is. Two specitic bits that get their own items

The Cabs came back one last time! It dosen’t effect my now finished retrospective, but after spending all that time with them it was nice to see them for what will probably be the last time for some time.

The whole scene where Della finds out about the trip. Just all of it. Her casually and accidentally choking daisy TWICE, Fethry, who sadly did not get an episode this season, being the one to blab about it and only realizing it .. after repeating that they told him not to, and Gladstone who not only was casually winning at Skeeball while his cousins both got pissed at it, relateable as hell, but then awkwardly escorting his baby cousin out of the situation.

“Satstically with Hubert gone one of us should be pancking but WHO I ASK YOU WHO?” As if I needed more evidence they were perfect for each other.

Lena just.. slumping over after Dewey finally has her drop the cloak. Comedy gold. BOYD scanning her later likewise so.

The second best line and line read of the episode goes to Louie/Bobby Monihan. “That is not comforting, I do not want to die”. He couldn’t of summed up Louie in one line any better.

Ludvwig was a national treasure. Not only did I squeel internally when it turned out he was alive but the explination for it was hilarious as it was batshit, and him just causally revealing Webby’s origin was fucking amazing “Ill give you all a moment ot process” The acomplanying “bless me bagpipes” was also amazing.

I do wish we found out where FOWL went but it was probably to leave the remains all free to come back as villians of the week. Frank outright said they had a tailspin sequel episode ready to go.

The Webby and June fight was a masterpiece and I REALLY need to do a top 12 fights list someday.

Lena connecting with the new twins , having pretty much the same background of being created by a villian for shitty reasons.

“one is silver and the other is “ “Flintheart glomgold!” they should consider a teamup. What’s a little brainwashing between friends?

“We’re sisters’. No you and violet are sisters, Webby is your girlfriend your both just in denial. I only say this because Webby also thinks Della and Penny are just friends and I feel she simply dosen’t know what being gay is or again is in denial. They’ll get there. Plus it feels like Lena just didn’t want to loose her and would say anything which is valid.

Curtain Call and Final Thoughts:

The Curtain Call was the perfect way to end a spectacular finale. Each bit of it’s a masterpiece, and every character gets one last awesome, heartfelt and hilarous goodbye with the camera and ending how it should: on our five most important characters, in a circle, together, smiling, freefaling into the next adventure. I”d have it no other way and any other series finale credits and last moments will now pale in comparison.

So the finale as a whole is messy, some bits aren’t resolved as good as they could’ve been, Huey go the shaft, and it REALLY needed another episode leading into it to help take the pressure off. While it needed 90 minutes for the plot it had to tell, it needed more to build up to that and while the season was tight with episodes they BADLY needed one more they didn’t get or even a subplto to help take the load off this episode.

But even with that... it was an utterly awesome finale on par with other recent standouts like “Let’s Fight to the End”/ “Thank you For Watching the Show” (Both feel like finales to me but in diffrent ways), “The Future” and the whole arc leading up to it, both parts of “Heart” and “Nice While It Lasted” . It was heartstopping, heartrending and heartfelt and ended the show as it should be: with over the top insanity, big reveals, a hell of a final battle.. and a focus on family. It’s not the perfect finale, and I defintely need more ducktales.. but it’s still a classic one and one of the series finest hours.. literally in this case.

I.. am going to miss this series. I went into it before but it’s thanks to this series I make a living. If you’d like to contribute to that, I have a patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet, my next stretch goal is a darkwing duck epsiode a month so kick in a buck won’t you? and take comissions so if theres an episode from the first two seasons that’s not part of the season 1 arc (I’m almost done there) or Lena’s story (already being paid for that) feel free to shoot me a line to comissoin it for five bucks an episode.

But more than that it was an excellent well crafted show that took a franchise I love and updated it for a new generation. My nieces love it, I love it, and I will always love it for that. Young or old, this show as phenominal, it was stupdendous.. it was a duckblur. It will remain in my heart for probaly the rest of my life among such shows as Steven Universe, Parks and Recreation, The Venture Bros, Letterkenny, DBZ Abriged, and so many more that have touched my life. It was simply the best. And i’m going to miss it. Thank you for reading this, i’ll see you at another rainbow, if not one quite like this.

Next on this Blog: Duck week continues after this review took two days to complete. Sorry about that. Our heroes head to castle McDuck and Dewey is forced to face the consequences of his actions, while Scrooge yells at his dad , his dad yells at him and his mom is the most precious thing tha’ts ever lived. Also Launchpad in Donald Cosplay. And it won’t stop there as till saturday the rest of the week is all dedicated to Ducktales as I finish up the Della and Lena arcs for season 1 and get started on Lena’s last three episodes. So if you liked some ducktales, stick around. And once again.. thank you.

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

The End

‘The final episode has aired. The movie has been filmed. They’re done. And Yakko has never been more terrified.

(Or, the author thinks about the implications of the word “reanimated”, the use of a grave in the new intro as a place for the Warners to pop out of, the fact that the Warners had 0 clue about the last 22 years, and the abrupt nature of the 1993 show’s finale)

@asilcorner the ending got me shook

Quick note, uh, I don’t usually put trigger warnings, but this a pretty distressing fic, I think moreso than my usual? So like....buckle up.

They’re running as the slideshow rolls, as the other characters disappear one by one. The studio isn’t expecting the side characters to come back, so they can go on with their lives, however boring they are without filming, but them? The Warners are, evidently, too chaotic and unpredictable to be allowed to stick around. And since keeping them locked up in the water tower didn’t really work, and the idea of a reboot or even a continuation seems slim to none, they’re being....

What did the executives say? Oh, right. Put down.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Yakko yells behind him. He has longer legs, so he can run faster, and his siblings are lagging. He can hear the guards coming closer-it’s been outsourced, it’s not Ralph or Dr.Scratchansniff or Hello Nurse, it’s large men in scary outfits and nets and tasers and batons-and so he slows down, grabs his siblings by the scruffs of their necks, and keeps running.

“They’re gonna kill us!” Dot all but shrieks, and he can feel her terror, and he’s just as scared. He doesn’t know how this whole suspended animation thing goes, but it sounds a lot like death and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Not on my watch,” he replies, hoping he sounds braver and more sure than he is.

Wakko tosses a few sticks of dynamite over his shoulder to slow their chasers down, and they weave through the studio towards the exit and out into the city. If they lay low for a few days, they can sneak back into their tower and hole up there for as long as they need. They’ve gotten used to it. It’s home. They can stay. It’ll be fine.

Wakko whimpers, quietly. He’s curled up as tight as he can, knees hidden in his sweater as Yakko holds him close. Dot is much the same. Her flower has lost its petals in the mad dash to escape, but she doesn’t bother to complain.

Yakko can hardly breathe, he’s been running so fast, but adrenaline keeps him going. He can’t let them get his siblings, he can’t let his siblings get taken, get hurt. He’s their big brother.

“It’s gonna be okay,” He gasps out between breaths, between strides. “We got ‘em beat. They’ve never messed with the Warners before, they can’t handle us,” The world can’t, that’s why they’re being thrown away, permanently.

“Uh, I don’t think the dynamite worked,” Wakko pipes up, and Yakko hazards a look behind him and nearly trips in terror. They’re so close!

“Try some more! I can’t reach into my hammerspace right now!” Wakko throws road tacks, the ones that stop cars, and he throws oil and a match, and grease, but the apparent task force hired just gets through obstacle after obstacle as if it were nothing.

Yakko gives them the what for, ducking around a corner at the last second to look like he was going towards another corner, and he doesn’t even allow himself to breathe, so quiet it’s chilling, but he hears a shuffle from the side away from the street they were running on.

“Gotcha,” He hears, and Dot screams, and they’re somehow in the alleyway, and he runs across the street with utter abandon, too scared to think, and suddenly they’re at a dead end.

“Shoot-uh-I-,” He can see the men running across the street after them, and so he jumps, aiming for the rooftop.

He gets yanked down by his tail, and lets out a cry of pain, kicking the hand off of him as all three of them tumble to the asphalt and he loses purchase of his sibs. He scrambles to his feet, pushing Wakko and Dot behind him and facing the monsters that have been hired to hurt his family with a growl. His tail aches.

Yakko isn’t a fighter, not by a mile. He isn’t that strong, isn’t that talented, in that regard. He has his words, but that isn’t useful right now.

He pulls out a mallet, the largest one he can muster, and holds it up high.

“Stay back,” he can feel Dot and Wakko trembling, they’re clinging to his legs. The men are wreathed in shadows so he can’t see their faces, and it adds to the mounting fear and helplessness. “Or-Or I’ll use this!”

They come closer. Yakko’s hands shake.

“I’m warning you!” He shouts, stronger than he feels. “Not one more step!”

They come closer. He swings.

An a cuff clicks around his wrist, and the mallet vanishes.

“What-,” and he’s yanked forward, held back as they close in on Wakko and Dot. “No! Let go!” He kicks and writhes, but he can’t get anything to appear. The cuff on his wrist hums a noxious green, and he stares at it for a second before continuing to struggle.

“Toon power cancelling cuffs,” The apparent leader says, from behind him. “We don’t use em too often because they don’t work for forever, since you can’t really stop a toon from being a toon for too long, but they’ll work long enough for this job.”

“NO!” Yakko screams. Wakko is swinging a bat around, pushing Dot behind him despite her protests. She pulls out a weapon too, her mace, and holds it in trembling hands.

“Don’t take them-just take me! I’ll go quiet, they can hide out in the water tower! They’ll be good, please, no one will know! You can say you lost them, you can-please-don’t!” He’s begging. He can’t let this happen to them. It doesn’t matter if it’s him, they’re what matters. He needs them to be safe.

“Yakko, shut up!” Dot shouts back, and she sounds furious. Her glare softens with fear as she glances between the many adults looming over them.

They’re outnumbered. Their eldest has been caught. Wakko keeps swinging.

The men trip grab the bat in one hand and yank Wakko forward, and he stumbles and falls. They pick him up by his ears and slap a cuff on him, and while Wakko continues to kick and squirm but not being able to access your toon powers is draining. Yakko is tired, but he refuses to quit now.

“Dot, run!” He shouts, but she looks like a deer in the headlights, frozen and surrounded. She swings the mace and lets go, jumping up as the men stumble back from it, but halfway up they hit her with something. A rubber bullet? For a moment, he thinks she was actually shot, but there’s no blood even when she screams and drops to the ground.

“Stop!” Yakko and Wakko shout, but they cuff her before she even has a chance to get up, and they throw her over their shoulder.

“We got them,” Someone says into a walkie talkie. Yakko kicks them where it hurts, and scrambles to grab his sibs again, biting and scratching. “Permission to terminate?”

Something in Yakko snaps, and suddenly he can’t think. The thoughts and world have gone into slow motion, images like flashes that he doesn’t have the time to decipher. He’s moving fast, but it feels so slow.

He doesn’t hear the answer. He’s running towards blue and red, and pink, and there’s a hand on his shoulder and he’s screaming their names and they’re all crying and there’s a pinch on his neck as something pierces through skin and then-

Nothing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up with a scream on his lips and is enveloped into a hug before he’s fully conscious.

“It’s okay, I’m so sorry, it’s okay,” He knows that voice. Clarity is slow coming, but Yakko can sparse that out.

“Spielberg?” he manages. His mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton balls, and his vision comes into focus on a much older Steven Spielberg.

“Yakko, I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted them to keep you in the tower, but they were resolute. The best I could get was suspended animation,” He gestures to the room they’re in, and Yakko sees two toon sized tubes filled with some kind of liquid, with his siblings in them. They look different. Remodeled. He looks down at himself. The art style has changed. They’ve changed. How?

“What...?” He can’t find the words. Not yet. They’re coming back to him slowly.

“It’s death...but not quite. I was hoping for a reboot. You guys are getting your show back!” he smiles at Yakko, like he expects Yakko to be overjoyed, but Yakko just stares.

Suspended Animation. Death, but not quite.

He let his siblings get this.

“I’m telling you, because I figured these two would take it better from you than me,” Spielberg points a thumb at Wakko and Dot. “I’ll wake them up now for your reunion.”

And Yakko wants to cry. He wants to rage. He wants to tell Steven, the execs, everyone, to stick it where the sun don’t shine Like Hell is he doing their stupid reboot, he hates them.

He doesn’t hate often, but he’s certain here.

“Will they remember...?” Will they remember dying like I do, he doesn’t say. Spielberg shrugs.

“Don’t know.”

They will. Wakko is going to cry and Dot won’t be able to sleep for a week, and Yakko will hold them close and apologize a million times, and he’ll have to stop them from tearing the studio apart because he knows it’ll bring them right back here.

They’ll remember.

But he doesn’t know that yet, so instead he says.

“So, how’s the reboot working?” As Spielberg turns on the machine to let Wakko and Dot out, and he pretends to listen as the director replies.

#animaniacs 2020 #animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #dot warner #wakko warner #listen if I have to think it you have to know it #suffer #kitkat1003

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joneswuzhere · 3 years

Text

hello join me in thinking about some books and authors that are, or might be, part of s5′s intertextuality

5.10 in particular offered specific shout outs, and also u know i’m always wondering what might be ahead so i have some ideas on that:

- first, as mentioned in a previous ask post, i know i wasn’t alone in keeping an eye out for 5.10 parallels to the lost weekend (1945) the film that gave episode 1.10 its name and several themes - or to the 1944 book by charles r jackson which the film is based on

- s5 has not been shy about revisiting earlier seasons, especially s1. altho i feel that 1.10′s parallels to the lost weekend centered characters other than jughead (mostly betty), a 1.10-5.10 connection involving jughead and themes from jackson’s story (addiction, writers block, self reflection) seemed v possible if not inevitable

- but like,, , for a hot minute after the ep, i was really stumped on understanding how anything from the book or film could apply, even tho the pieces were almost all there

- jackson’s protagonist don birnam goes thru and comes out the other side of a harrowing days-long drinking binge that could be compared to jughead’s one-night hallucinogenic writing retreat

- but jughead is struggling primarily with traumatic memories, not addiction and self control like birnam. and tho drinking activates birnam’s creativity, it paralyzes his writing as he gets lost in fantasies; he’s never published anything. jughead’s drug trip recreates circumstances that already helped him write one successful book. even the rat that startles him mid-high doesn’t line up with birnam’s withdrawal vision of a dying mouse, symbolic of his horror at his own self-destruction thru alcohol

- and maybe the most visible discordance: in the film there’s a romantic motif around a typewriter. first it’s an object of shame; birnam’s failure to write, tied up with his drinking, makes him flee his relationship. he tries to pawn the typewriter for booze money and finally a gun when shooting himself feels easier than getting sober. but with the help of relentless encouragement from girlfriend helen, he quits drinking, commits to her, and focuses on typing out the story he’s dreamt of writing. rd goes so far to avoid setting any comparable scenario that jughead has brought a wholeass printer into the bunker so there can still be a physical manuscript to cover in blood by the end, even without his own typewriter. the subtle detail of his laptop bg image is a little less noticeable than his avoidance of betty’s gift

- tabitha might be closer to a parallel than jughead is, but she’s still no helen. both refuse to take advantage of the inebriated men in their care, but birnam takes advantage of helen, financially and emotionally. jughead refused a loan from the tate family and now has resolved to deal with his shit before he considers a relationship with tabitha. instead of helen’s relentless and unwelcomed attempts to get birnam sober, tabitha reluctantly agrees to help jughead trip safely bondage escape notwithstanding. she even helps him get the drugs.

- whatever potentials exist for parallels to jackson’s story, they were not explored for this episode. ok so why tf am i even talking about this? what was there instead?

- i have arrived at the point

- s5 has been revisiting s1, not directly but with a twist. and jughead’s agent samm pansky is back. u may recall, pansky is named for sam lansky

- jughead’s trip-thru-trauma is a story device tapped straight from lansky’s book ‘broken people’

- lansky is like if a millenial john rechy wrote extremely LA-flavored meta but just about himself no jk very like a modern successor to charles r jackson. both play with the boundary between memoir and fiction. lansky is gay; jackson wrote his lost weekend counterpart as closeted and remained closeted himself until only a few years before his death. both write with emotional clarity and self-scrutiny on the experiences of addiction, sobriety, and the surrounding issues of shame and self worth

- i feel like a fool bc after this ep i had been thinking about de quincey and his early writings on addiction (c.1800s), but i failed to carry the thought in the other direction, to contemporary writers in the genre, to make this connection sooner

- lansky’s second book, broken people, follows narrator ‘sam’, mid-20s, super depressed, hastled by his agent to write a decent follow-up to his first book, but too busy struggling with his self-worth and baggage from several past relationships. desperate, he takes up an offer to visit a new age shaman who promises to fix everything wrong with him in a matter of days. not to over simplify it but he literally spends a weekend doing psychedelics and hallucinating about his exes. jughead took note

- unless u want me to hurl myself into yet another dissertation about queer jughead, i think his parallel to sam - who, unlike jughead, has considerable financial privilege and whose anxieties center on body dysmorphia, hiv scares, and his own self-centeredness - pretty much ends there

- But,, the gist of the book could not be more harmonius with a major theme shared by the 2 films that inform the actual hallucination part of jughead’s bunker scene: mentally reframing past relationships to get closure + confronting trauma head-on in order to move forward

- so that’s neat. what other book and author stuff was in 5.10?

- stephen king and raymond carver get name dropped. i’m passingly familiar with them both but u bet i just skimmed their wiki bios in case anything relevant jumped out

- like jughead, carver was a student (later a lecturer) at the iowa writers workshop. also the son of an alcoholic and one himself

- i recall carver’s ‘what we talk about when we talk about love’ is what jughead was reading in 2.14 ‘the hills have eyes’ after he finds out about the first time betty kissed archie (at that time he does not respond as would any of carver’s characters)

- this collection of carver stories deals especially with infidelity, failings of communication, and the complexities and destructiveness of love. to unashamedly quote the resource that is course hero, ‘carver renders love as an experience that is inherently violent bc it produces psychic and emotional wounds.’ very fun to wonder about the significance of this collection within the s2 episode and in jughead’s thoughts. and maybe now in the context of the s5 state of relationships. or, at least, the state of jughead’s writing as seen by his agent

- anyway pansky doesn’t want carver, he wants stephen king

- i have too much to say about gerald’s game in 5.10, that’s getting its own post someday soon

- lol wait king’s wife is named tabitha uhhh king’s wiki reminded me of his childhood experience that possibly inspired his short story ‘the body’ (+1986 movie ‘stand by me’) when he ‘apparently witnessed one of his friends being struck and killed by a train tho he has no memory of the event’

- no mention of that in this rd episode but memories of a train could be interesting to consider with the imagery that intrudes on jughead’s hallucination. i still feel like it was a truck but the lights and sounds he experiences may be a train

- ok now we’re in the speculation part of today’s segment

- if jughead’s traumatic memory involves trains, then it’s possible this plot will take influence from la bête humaine <- this 1938 movie is based on the 1890 novel by french writer émile zola. this story deals with alcoholism and possessive jealousy in relationships, sometimes leading to murder. huh, kind of like carver. zola def comes down on the nature side of the nature-vs-nuture bad seed question (tho i should say he approaches this with great or maybe just v french compassion). also i can’t tell if this is me reaching but, something about la bête humaine reminds me of king’s ‘secret window’ which we’ve observed to be at least a style influence on jughead post time jump

- but wow a late-19th century french writer would be a random thing to drop into this season, right? then again zola also wrote about miners, which we’ve learned are an important part of this town’s history + whatever hiram is up to this time. and most notably, zola wrote ‘j’accuse...!’ an open letter in defense of a soldier falsely accused and unlawfully jailed for treason: alfred dreyfus. archie’s recent army trouble comes to mind.

- since the introduction of old man dreyfuss (plausibly Just a nod to close encounters actor richard dreyfuss, but also when is anything in this show Just one thing) i’ve been wondering if these little things could add up to a season-long reference to zola’s writings. but i had doubts and didn’t want to speak on it too soon bc, u know, it’s weird but is it weird enough for riverdale??

- however,,,

- (come on, u knew where i was going with this)

- a24′s film zola just came out. absolutely no relation to the french writer, it’s not based on a book but an insane and explicit twitter thread by aziah ‘zola’ wells about stripping and? human trafficking?? this feels ripe for rd even outside the potentials here for the lonely highway/missing girls plot.

- that would add up to a combination of homage that feels natural to this show

- anyway pls understand i’m just having fun speculating, most of this is based on nothing more concrete than the torturous mental tendril ras has hooked into my skull pls let go ras pls let go

#accompanying image has no meaningful organization it's just there to make me look insane. enjoy #riverdale speculation #filmref #but books #adhd has me like. this is Not the post i've been trying to write for weeks but my brain gave me no choice

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Let your Warmth melt my Ice

You all know I like emotional destruction, right? Well strap in, because this post by the amazing @nock-and-bolt hit me right in the feels. Had to write a short to it. Also tagging @janjan-the-ninth because they said so XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: Temporary character death, grief, misunderstanding)

[Warning: Critical damage detected. Shutdown imminent.]

Nines was already on the ground by the time he had realised those bullets had indeed hit him and that there had been more enemies than anticipated as he had rushed in. He still heard the gunshots around him, the people shouting, barking orders and screaming in pain. His systems were still busy locating each position and making tactical calculations based on this information. Still prompting him to continue, to shield his friends and protect them. Apparently, his systems hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was minutes from death. True death. This body wasn’t able to function anymore and the loss of Thirium meant his hardware would run hot and eventually melt. There was no way for him to survive this.

His fingers started to spasm from wires shortcutting. His vision glitched and his analysis program darted from one detail to the next. Was there still gunfire? It was hard to concentrate, to filter sensory information and not get lost in a confusing mess of signalling. He felt how some non-vital systems began to shut off and left his mind a little less crowded, a little less confusing. Gavin, his thoughts managed to form conscious words again. Where was he? Was he safe? He tried saying the name, forming it with his voicebox but never hearing it as his auditory systems malfunctioned briefly. Next were his legs and torso, but he never regained feeling there. He was about to try again, as a face appeared in his vision.

‘Nines? Nines!’ Those words were like balm on his soul. Those special sounds only the human could speak like that, this special melody they used to create meaning. This name he had been given by the same person that meant so much to him. ‘Nines! Can you hear me? Nines?’ The android registered he was lifted up by Gavin and propped against a wall. He could see the human touch his wounds and press his hands on them as if that would help in any way. ‘Nines! Phcking asshole, say something!’ Nines tried once again to say his name, but his voicebox was already damaged, only static making it out of the small speaker. If anything, it made the human even more anxious. ‘Nines. Nines, phck!’

[Warning: Commencing Shutdown. Begin upload?]

Upload. Right. Nines knew it was likely for nothing. He was the only model ever produced and therefore unique. But still, an upload of his memories and personality matrix was something to continue living with. If what they did was living and if their programming was a soul like most humans were proclaiming, then maybe the upload could safe him. Keep him alive, even if there was no immediate body to switch to. Maybe someone valued him enough to rebuild or design anew.

Gavin certainly would.

Gavin.

[Upload started… 1%]

‘Nines, what’s going on? Your LED flickers! What- No.’ Nines managed to lift his eyes to the human’s face. He was kneeling next to him, holding him upright against the wall and trying frantically to stop the blood flow. If he had been human, it might have worked. ‘No, no, no, you are not dying! You are not!’ His face showed despair, shock, pain. All for him. All Nines had ever wanted for him was to be happy. Now he was the reason he wasn’t.

[Upload at 26%]

Nines didn’t want to see him like this. Nines wanted to see his smile again. Those green eyes sparkling in the light of the sun when they spent their break outside on the bench. He wanted to hold his human and comfort him. He wanted to be there for him. He wanted to make sure he was safe on future missions. He wanted to reach the day when he could finally tell him what he was sure Gavin never wanted to hear. He wanted to… do so many things. ‘Nines! Please. Tell me what to do! Cyberlife’s contacted, Jericho too. Help’s on the way. Hold on. Stay with me.’ There were tears on the man’s face as he swallowed and looked at him in panic. Don’t panic, Nines wanted to say. You will live, he thought. I protected you. But those words were never spoken.

[Upload at 63%]

Nines felt more and more systems shut down due to overheating and misfiring of vital sensors. It wasn’t long now, and he needed his last moments to remember. His eyes had never left Gavin’s, but now the android tried to form a smile on his face that he hoped to express everything it needed to. Hoping that it would calm down the human and be how he remembered him. As long as he still could, Nines lifted his arm and hated how it jerked back and forth and never reached its goal. His motor control was malfunctioning and the servo itself too damaged to work at full capacity. Nines’ arm hovered over his chest, reaching for Gavin’s face. Thankfully the human got the message and took his arm to help him direct it so his hand cupped his cheek.

Warm. Nines had been fascinated from the start how warm humans could be. Like they were constantly overheating and radiating their energy into the world. Those creatures couldn’t be described better in his eyes. Exhaling love with every breath and being compassionate beings always looking out for the wellbeing of others, even when the person was described as an asshole, like Gavin. Gavin cared. He was just hurt one too many times and now Nines would add to it.

[Upload at 82%]

‘Nines! Nines, stay with me.’ Nines followed a tear that was rolling down from Gavin’s cheek and stopped as it hid his hand. His robotic hand. He hadn’t realised his skin had retracted, but he was showing off his white plastic hull on his entire body by now. When had that process shut down? ‘You bastard! Stay with me! Don’t you dare phcking dying on me!’ The android felt how he lost power over his body and sacked down, but Gavin was reacting fast, catching him and holding him in his arms. The man grabbed his arm and pulled it over Nines’ chest. ‘Nines! I swear, if you die on me, I will kill you!’ Could he still do that, Nines would have laughed. Only Gavin would curse at him, threaten him in his dying seconds.

[Upload at 96% Shutdown imminent]

Nine’s vision was getting hazy, static filling it and only leaving him his area of focus: Gavin’s panicked face. He couldn’t feel the warmth of Gavin’s touch anymore, could only see and hear. ‘Nines, please. Please, I need you, you plastic prick! Don’t you dare do this to me!’

[Upload finished. Shutting down…]

Gavin lifted him to his chest and buried his face in Nines’ drenched clothes. ‘You can’t leave me, you phcking asshole! Because I… I love you.’

Nines hadn’t had any more time to process this.

[Shutdown]

Gavin’s day had been completely normal. It was surprising how normal his days had been lately. People around him were chatting, laughing at each other’s jokes and discussing the new shop around the corner. He was driving through a city that continued life as usual whenever he got to work or back home. Crime scenes were coming up and vanishing, cases came and went. Reports were written and evidence filed. But the chair in front of Gavin stayed empty. The terminal remained switched off.

All the little trinkets Nines had gathered on his desk and considered skilful decoration gathered dust. No one had the heart to put them away. Just as no one had thought to hire a new person. Not when there still was a chance that Nines could come back. Gavin looked down on his hands that mindlessly fidgeted with a small ring. Normally shining blue, yellow or lastly red, it was now just a dark circle in white plastic. But it was something to cling to, something to remember. Just in case. Just in case Nines didn’t come-

No. No, he had to. The android had uploaded his personality to Cyberlife as a failsafe. And although there was no body for him, Jericho had bullied the company to build a new one. With the blow Cyberlife had to take to their image, it hadn’t taken much. Gavin had hope they could make it. Maybe it was all he had. In any scenario, he had never thought for the android to die first. Almost completely bullet proof, the chance of him dying… Well, Gavin had considered it zero at this point. That was about the only reason he hadn’t said what he told the dying android long ago. Thinking they had time…

He sighed deeply, looking over to his mug and tilting it a bit to look inside. Empty. Of course. He groaned. He really didn’t want to get out of his chair. He had no motivation for anything anymore and even a trip to the breakroom could as well had been a journey around the earth. The more surprised he was as a new mug was placed next to his. Steaming and filled to the rim. Gavin looked at it, brain lagging behind. The hand that was holding the handle lingered for just a second, then retracted. Gavin’s eyes followed the movement and were directed to a white uniform. Black details at the opening and the pockets, a ridiculously high collar and then… That stupidly beautiful face.

Gavin’s throat went dry. ‘Nines?’, he croaked disbelievingly. ‘Are you… phck, are you Nines?’ The android in front of him lowered his head a bit, then nodded. ‘Yes. It’s me. Cyberlife rebuild my body and I thought to return to work as soon as possible. I left you long enough with both our-‘ He couldn’t finish, as Gavin stood up and grabbed him by the jacket to push him against the glass separating the desk from the hallway. ‘You asshole died in my arm and all you can think about is work?’ He let go of the android, swallowing his emotions. Damn, the android had just returned from the dead, he should be happy. ‘I… I’m sorry for the trauma I’ve caused you. I’m fine again. I just thought we could get back to normal?’

Gavin looked at the android and swallowed for real this time. Hell, how would dying feel like? All Gavin wanted to do is shake Nines and tell him how relieved he was and how good it was to see him again and how bad he managed living on without him and also ask how he felt about what Gavin had asked him in the very end. Because he was ready to make up excuses for that, if the android didn’t feel that way and oh would it help him if Nines felt the same…

But exactly how Gavin managed trauma like that – with his thoughts running at hundred miles an hour and his only reaction anger and brashness – Nines might need the exact opposite: Calmness and time to think and reset. He was an android after all. Maybe all that programming and logic had some use after all. Gavin nodded and instead hugged Nines’ middle. ‘It’s good to have you back, tin-can.’ The android didn’t move to return the hug but stood there rather awkwardly. ‘Thanks…’ Gavin stepped back and let go of the man. ‘Err… yeah, sure. Let’s… let’s get back to work, shall we? And if you… want to talk about what happened or… what that makes you feel… I’m right here.’ ‘Thank you’, Nines smiled and that smile almost made everything alright again.

The android moved over to his terminal, switched it on and interfaced with it, while dusting off his belongings with the other hand. Gavin too returned to his work. As if it was just another day.

Nines was thankful to be back. He remembered not believing it might work, but Cyberlife had harboured his soul in their servers and Jericho had actually managed to move them to build a new body for him. It felt like he had never been gone, as he stepped foot back into the precinct. He had of course been the centre of attention then, but he still managed to surprise Gavin and that was all he had needed to feel that warmth again. As the human had hugged him… It had been heaven on earth. Metaphorically. From his own experience if android heaven was a dusted Cyberlife server, then this was much better.

He had enjoyed the unexpected contact far too much, his systems overwhelmed by the sudden motions that he had actually frozen for a few moments. He was actually surprised Gavin had taken it so well. From his last memories before his deactivation, he had expected there to be more tears… more emotions. But then again, maybe Gavin had already grieved for him. It had been two weeks after all. Maybe he had just been relieved he was back and now was eager to get back to normality. Or he suppressed his emotions as usual until they weren’t too intense to handle. Either way, Nines wouldn’t start a conversation with him, not unless he initiated one first. He had caused the human his pain after all. Gavin would have to chose when was the right time.

Unfortunately, even the next day, nothing changed. Gavin had no interest in opening the talk and even seemed to avoid him. If anything, he was growing more distant, seemingly wanting to tell him something when he left for his home, but never actually speaking up. It hurt. It hurt somewhere deep inside Nines. The android was feeling so much, even looking at the human caused him software instability. But he didn’t dare to tell the man. Gavin hadn’t said something when he was in emotional turmoil because of his impending death. Surely, he would have done that if he felt something. And with how he always pulled a face at seeing publicly displayed affection, maybe he didn’t want to hear it either.

Nines loved the human. He wanted to deepen their relationship. He had died to protect Gavin and he would do so again and again, if he had to. But with how Gavin kept to himself and didn’t even acknowledge him some days, Nines really doubted that was what the human wanted.

Gavin was beyond disappointed. He would have been angry hadn’t that felt too much of a defeat. The android had had the audacity to die in his arms catching multiple bullets for him and then ghost him like that? Gavin had confessed his love to the plastic prick in a moment of vulnerability and now the damn android just pretended nothing had happened? “Detective”-d him at any given moment and displayed no more emotion than before their mission? Hell, if he wasn’t interested, Nines could have just said so. This was just an asshole move. And two could play that game of ignorance. It didn’t matter to Gavin that his soul was bleeding with every stumbled ‘Oh. Okay.’ from the android whenever Gavin shoved him away further. He was far too angry for it. And it only got worse during the week.

Friday finally was the day, that promised Gavin refuge. He wouldn’t have to see the android on the weekend and have time to come to terms with his contradicting feelings. Then, on Monday, he would just tell the android and be done with it. No more dancing around each other, trying to find out how the other felt and watch out for the other’s wellbeing. He decided to leave early and switched off his computer grabbing his jacket as he stood up. ‘Gavin?’ Oh hell no. If the android continued to speak with him, he would resort to violence at this point. He was hurt and confused and done, so, so done with it all. So, he just turned around and left. Only once he left the building and heard the door fall into the lock behind him, he sighed and took a deep breath of the grounding cold February air.

He shouldn’t have stopped. ‘Gavin!’ The door behind him opened and Nines stumbled out of it, coming to a halt everything but gracefully. His LED was a dark red and Gavin didn’t want to think of what that reminded him of. ‘What do you want?’, Gavin spat. ‘I want to talk with you. About what happened. I held myself back until now because I know this might have been traumatic for you and-‘ ‘Phck off! You died in my arms! You know, you are right, that might have been traumatic for me, phckhead!’ ‘I apologize for that, but-‘ ‘Oh, you apologize?’ Gavin turned around and walked right into the android’s personal space. ‘You apologize? For what exactly? Dying? Ignoring me? Disregarding that I laid out my heart in front of you and you decided to step on it?’

Nines took a step back and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘What- What do I mean?’, Gavin wheezed in disbelief. ‘Ex-phcking-cuse me? I mean that I told you I love you! You died in my arms and I thought if this was your last moment and you died for me, I could as well tell you that! Maybe made it a bit easier for you. Less hurtful. Phck, what have I been thinking? You are just a damn machine, you don’t phcking feel. Or at least not in that way. Because hell, I tell you that, let you into my heart and when you come back, you hand me a coffee and go straight back to work?’

‘Wait’, Nines said, holding up his hand. ‘Wait, Gavin. Your last words to me were: “Don’t you dare do this to me!”’ He blinked. ‘Or were they?’ Gavin clenched his jaws. ‘No, asshole they weren’t! My last words to you were that I loved you!’ ‘When was that? Right before I shut down? Was my LED still flickering?’ ‘How the hell should I know?’, Gavin asked, throwing his hands in the air. ‘You were dying in my arms; I don’t think I had more important things on my mind than your stupid mood light!’ ‘Gavin, this is important’, Nines said, stepping forwards and holding the man by the shoulders. ‘Was it less than two seconds before my body went rigid?’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Yeah, could be. Why?’

Nines let go of him and had to sit down on the stairs in front of the station. ‘Gavin, I uploaded my memory to Cyberlife as soon as I knew I would die. It recorded everything up to two seconds before my death, because it takes a bit of time to end the Upload and shut down the body. I… I might have heard it and understood it as I was dying, but I… the backup of me that I am now has no memory of you telling me that.’

Gavin stared at the android and processed what he just heard. Then he sat down next to Nines on the stairs and stared blankly ahead. ‘Phck.’ ‘Fuck indeed.’ ‘And all the time I thought you were just a work-centred prick ignoring me.’ ‘I wouldn’t have ignored it had I known it, Gavin, I’m sorry.’ Gavin rubbed his face in frustration. Phck, he just wanted this day to be over.

But Nines didn’t let him end it just yet. He cleared his throat and looked over at the human that had nearly folded in on himself. ‘Err… Do you… Do you really love me?’ Gavin lifted his head up, his fingers resting on his mouth. He looked at Nines from the corner of his eyes, only then letting his hands slap on his knees. ‘Yes, I guess’, he sighed. ‘No, yeah I do. I was so angry at you all phcking week it won’t be a heartfelt confession now, but I do love you. The way you’re just… Always there for me and care so much. Most would just pretend not to have seen me and move on. You sought me out. You are actually funny and intelligent and competent. And you are phcking hot, okay? I feel so much for you and seeing you die… I couldn’t handle it. I think the hope you would come back to me kept me going.’ There was a brief moment of silence.

‘I love you too, Gavin’, Nines answered in a whisper. ‘I can’t understand how I am the one lucky enough to got to know you when so many others had their chance before me, but I am happy fate chose me. I… I can’t express how I feel as I shouldn’t be feeling at all as an android. But I do and I wanted to tell you for so long. I just always thought you didn’t want to hear something like that…’ ‘Nines?’, the human spoke up and turned towards him. Nines followed his movement and his eyes naturally found their way to Gavin’s, who smiled. ‘Nines, this was the only thing I ever needed to hear.’

Nines blinked, but didn’t have the time to answer, as Gavin laid an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Once again, Nines froze up, but Gavin’s warmth quickly made him melt into the touch. Soon enough, he would have to think about all of this to process what he just heard, but for now…

For now, he enjoyed this.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Does this count as they are idiots?#they are idiots #Ah damn I loved writing this just all the angst and fluff and aaaaa #also two pages of Nines death I guess???#I had fun #I'm sorry for the feels

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amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

Suspended

Carol (2015) fanfiction

request: “nsfw Carol/Therese with restraints, bottom!Carol”

Summary: Therese sees something she shouldn’t have, and can’t stop thinking about it.

Characters: Carol x Therese

Word Count: 2,185

Warnings: SMUT! Bondage and restraints, bottom!Carol, top!Therese, modern AU. You’ve been warned.

Therese hadn’t meant to see Carol’s last internet search, really. Her own laptop had died and she needed to urgently check her emails from work, so she figured Carol wouldn’t mind her using hers while she was out with Abby.

She hadn’t intended to see all the searches for bondage and ropes, really.

And she definitely hadn’t meant to keep searching and clicking further and further through various sex-toy and lingerie online shops. Really.

And the add to shopping cart button was only pressed by a slip of her finger. Really.

She simply had no idea what happened.

By the time Carol was home, Therese kept her composure and pushed her embarrassing encounter on the computer to the back of her mind, and no further comment was made about it. Carol chatted happily about the latest furniture shop occurrences, expressed her excitement about seeing Rindy next weekend, and asked Therese about her photographic endeavours of late.

But not much was going on in Therese Belivet’s mind other than the image of her blonde lover trussed on the bed with soft but sturdy rope, so she gave a half-hearted answer and continued eating the soup she’d made for their dinner.

“Darling?” Carol asked suddenly, covering Therese’s hands with her own. “Is everything alright.”

Therese blinked, pushing away the image of Carol, writhing and gasping for air, “of course, why wouldn’t there be?”

“You seem miles off, sweetheart. Is there something happening at work?”

“Well, no-,” Therese stopped, cleared her throat, knowing if she didn’t find a different excuse she’d have to confess to Carol all the fantasies swirling in her head. “I’ve just got a lot of things on my mind, I suppose. Work-related,” she added, hoping it didn’t sound too hasty.

Carol didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but didn’t press further. She leaned over and gave Therese a soft kiss before clearing the table and heading to the kitchen to do the dishes.

A week or so passed, the weekend with Rindy delighting and exhausting both women. Once Harge had picked up their daughter, Carol coaxed Therese to bed, gently and lazily caressing Therese’s heating body. Until Therese flipped them over and pressed her nude body into Carol’s.

Something hitched in Carol’s throat and her gaze darkened. Intrigued, Therese experimented, tracing her fingers up Carol’s ribcage to her armpits before pushing her arms up above her head and pinning her wrists with one hand.

Carol kept quiet, but her body shivered and her mouth went dry. Her grey eyes were stormy, looking deeply into Therese’s piercing gaze.

A whimper escaped her, and Therese breathed in sharply through her nose, and her free hand slipped between Carol’s legs, finding a tsunami at her fingertips.

It didn’t take long, with Therese’s firm grip on Carol’s arm, lips sucking along her jaw and fingers working feverishly inside. Carol cursed, and shouted, and begged as she came, thrashing her head about.

As she came down from her high, Therese gently pulled out and pondered when her package would be arriving.

The day it arrived, Carol was working late at the furniture store, giving Therese ample time to prepare. She bounced around the front door until finally, finally, it rang, with an oblivious postman handing her a package and wishing her a good day.

It felt like Christmas, but far naughtier and secretive, and Therese was smiling ear to ear, brimming with excitement. There was a selection of soft ropes, ribbons, and a choker in a bright red that matched Carol’s lipstick perfectly.

Therese let the rope slip through her fingers as she inspected it, enjoying how sturdy and heavy it felt, and imaging it pressed against Carol’s alabaster skin, flushed with arousal.

Carol came home once Therese had put everything out on the bed, and she sheepishly made her way to the kitchen where Carol was rummaging around.

“I thought we could try something tonight,” Therese asked, watching Carol as she washed her hands in the sink.

“Oh? Like a new take-out? We can get Uber eats, sure,” she replied, reaching for the towel.

“I didn’t mean food,” Therese chuckled, wrapping her arms around Carol’s middle from behind, kissing her shoulder. “I meant we could try something.. you know?”

“Oh?” Carol’s tone was teasing, dropping lower with every second. Therese pulled the towel from her and held Carol’s hands in her own, fingers intertwining.

“Yeah, something I picked up recently. Something I think that you like,” Therese muttered. Damn her responsive body, she was already blushing, even though she was the one doing the seduction tonight. Therese felt Carol press her body back against hers, felt the curve of her ass press against her middle, and she groaned.

Slowly, to make sure she wanted it, Therese pulled Carol’s arms behind her, turning her elbow and holding her wrists until her arms were effectively trapped under Therese’s hold.

Carol began breathing heavily, head tipping back to give Therese a shy smile, questioning, curious, intrigued.

Therese procured a thick silky ribbon from her pocket and wove it around Carol’s wrists until they were bound. She didn’t tie it, but held the two loose ends and tugged, like a leash, letting Carol fall back a little, which earned her a surprised gasp.

“Angel..” Carol breathed, in a soft, desperate voice that Therese knew so well.

“Bedroom,” Therese ordered, turning both their bodies to face the doorway out of the kitchen. She kept Carol in front of her, nudging her lightly, encouraging her, and on weak legs Carol lead the way, hyper aware of the tight ribbon being tugged by Therese.

The bedroom looked the same, save for the neat pile of rope lying on the bed, and Carol’s pulse quickened in surprise.

“A little present for you,” Therese said, and Carol heard the grin in her voice. The ribbon came off with a soft swishing sound, and her arms fell limply by her side. Normally at this time Carol would be tempted to push Therese to the bed, trap her underneath her body and have her way with her, but this time she felt frozen to the spot.

She stood there, brain barely working, as Therese helped her undress, occasionally kissing her neck and shoulders.

“Still with me?” Therese wondered aloud. Carol blinked, pulling her eyes away from the ropes and at her lover.

“How did you know?” she asked, finding her voice again.

“Know what?”

“That I like... this.”

Therese shrugged, and smiled, “I had a hunch. Do you like the colour?”

She picked up the choker, a soft but firm leather, dyed bright red. Carol recognized the colour, and blushed.

“Yes,” she muttered. Therese clasped it in place, sitting deftly on Carol’s slim neck, and her lips parted in surprise as Therese leaned forward and bit the spot between her neck and shoulders. Her hands instinctively grabbed Therese’s hips, and the brunette immediately pulled away.

“That won’t do,” she said, half to herself. Carol felt her hands hang limply, awkwardly, wishing they were occupied with something, anything.

“Come here,” Therese said, sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbing the rope. “Lie down.”

Carol was trembling, needing Therese’s hands to support her noodle limbs. She turned over on the bed, scooting to thee middle, lying down on her back as was requested and again, didn’t know what to do with her hands. She wanted to grab Therese, hold her face, pull her thighs apart. Her fingers twitched.

Instead, Therese guided her arms above her head, reminiscent of when she held her down with just her hands and fucked her until Carol saw stars.

“Is this okay?” Therese muttered, looking down at Carol. She nodded, “yes, oh, god, angel. Yes.”

Therese was so gentle, so careful in her actions, and the slowness of it made Carol ache between her legs. Her wrists were eventually bound to the headboard, deliciously tied up.

She thought that was it, but Therese had other plans. Her young, daring lover, grabbed two more pieces of rope and begun winding it loosely around her thighs, making sure every knot was immaculately placed.

Then she pushed Carol’s legs further apart, spreading them and folding her knees. She wound the rope around Carol’s thighs and calves, securing them together so that there was no chance of her stretching them out and squeezing them together.

Carol’s heart was pounding in her chest as she became immobile, staring up at Therese who settled between her legs, rubbing her body sensually against Carol’s cunt that felt like it was on fire.

“Therese,” Carol breathed, a bare whimper. “Where on earth did you learn that?”

Therese simply shushed her and palmed at her legs, rubbing at the patches of skin, pulling a bit tighter where she could, and Carol felt completely helpless. She couldn’t move, could barely thrust her hips upwards because there was no good leverage for her to use with her legs wrapped up the way they were. Her wrists tugged at the restraints involuntarily and Therese giggled.

She made her way down Carol’s body, nibbling at her breasts and hard nipples, before diving without hesitation to her most sensitive place. Carol shouted in surprise as Therese pushed her tongue in immediately. With how wet she had become just from the preparation, it was easy.

Carol’s torso twitched and squirmed, trying to find some way to move in rhythm with Therese’s cruel ministrations. When she realized she wouldn’t be able to get what she wanted herself, Carol whimpered and nearly sobbed, letting her body go limp and be at Therese’s mercy.

“That’s it,” Therese murmured against her cunt, hands pressing against the inside of Carol’s thighs, giving her a delicious stretch that had her moaning.

At the sound, Therese used one hand to pull Carol’s folds apart, the other to enter her with three swift fingers, and here tongue to press up against her clit. Carol’s back arched as much as it could, her legs shaking from pleasure.

“Therese, oh, Therese,” she cried, eyes glued to the sight of Therese between her legs, green eyes glowing with wickedness.

“Do you like this?” Therese asked, almost sounding innocent as she fucked Carol steadily, pulling away to replace her tongue with her other hand on her clit. “You like how it feels?”

Carol nodded, sweat gliding down her neck. “I like it too,” Therese said, kissing an exposed patch of her inner thigh. “I like how it looks.”

And the sight really was incredible. Carol was trussed up, spread wide, completely merciless and begging for Therese’s touch.

“Please, please,” Carol begged. Her voice was nearly gone from the ragged gulps of breaths she was taking, drying out her throat.

Therese went down again, turning her fingers around inside Carol and instead of curling upwards, she tried pressing down as strongly as she dared, deep inside her. Carol nearly screamed, body going taut. She kept her tongue on her clit and continued short, deep thrusts with her fingers inside her.

Carol saw stars. Her eyes rolled back and the moment Therese pressed deep inside her and her lips closed around her clit to suck, she knew she was long gone. A shudder made its way from deep inside her cunt all the way up her spine, and her body shook all over. Her gasps of ‘oh, oh, God,’ rose in pitch, making sweet, feminine sounds as Therese fucked her through her orgasm.

Carol felt like she had fallen apart, piece by piece, by Therese’s nimble hands and mouth. She barely registered Therese undoing all the knots and releasing her arms and legs. Barely registered Therese massaging up her legs, rubbing the faint red lines away. Her body was humming like a telephone line, limp, but still suspended between two places. Her lover’s touch and her intense orgasm.

Therese kissed her cheeks and rubbed her arms and wrists with her fingers, curling up beside Carol and cradling her head with one hand. The other ran over Carol’s sweaty skin, over her belly and breasts, soothing all the sore muscles.

“I don’t think I’ll ever try to take charge in bed, ever again,” Carol managed to say. “Not now that I know that you can do that.”

Therese giggled again, and Carol threw her arms around her, kissing her hotly and madly. “Oh, my angel. What did I do to deserve you?”

She realized Therese was still fully closed, and pouted, tugging at the neckline of her blouse. “Please?”

Therese could get used to the sound of Carol begging for something.

“In a minute. Let me hold you,” she nuzzled Carol’s hair and stroked up and down her shoulders and back. Her own arousal was through the roof, her panties completely ruined, but she was determined to let Carol come down completely from her high first.

Unfortunately, Carol fell asleep within minutes, holding onto Therese tightly and settling in for her afternoon nap. Therese sighed, filled with love as Carol nudged her nose sleepily against her neck. She settled down on the pillow and smiled before closing her own eyes. She could wait.

A/N: Y’all are nasty with your requests, but I’m also nasty for writing them, and I don’t know which one of us is worse. Have a lovely evening you dirty buggers~

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ciaraloves · 3 years

Text

where the arch meets

I have not read King of Scars so I do not know anything about the plot therefore some information about Nikolai could be outdated. This is also the first time I've ever written for this fandom so hopefully I did the characters justice. My friend and I watched S&B and were talking about ships and I said I wanted to see Kaz and Nikolai together which then prompted whatever the hell happened here, please enjoy!

CW: mentions of blood, mentions of gambling

There are no spoilers for the S&B show

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

Kaz stares out the window, a glum look on his usually stoic face. Ketterdam was alive, unusual joy spinning itself in the streets as the city busies itself for the arrival of the one and only King Nikolai Lantsov. The festivities of the "Peacekeeper" as he had been so lovingly named, had started three long days ago. Every day that Kaz wakes up to popping streamers, and the litany of ballads associated with the King's ever growing list accomplishments, is a day his stolen peace gets ripped from beneath him. He's not even sure why the King is so popular. He can't say he was anywhere near impressed enough at their brief meeting to warrant the five different ballads about those hazel eyes alone. Kaz looks down at the papers littering his desk, crow club books and bank statements for his various 'assets', communications between the various councils in Ravka and Ketterdam, and the most recent letter from Inej, smelling of the sea.

Their friendship is something of a mystery to the world but between them she is the rock that kept him steady. Even now, with her sailing the high seas content to her freedom, he can feel the unwavering quiet of her. Briefly, he wishes she were here. She would make him laugh, tell him to stop being so glum about the brown-eyed, blonde haired king if he insisted on doing nothing about it. He wouldn't let his amusement at her teasing show, but later in the safety of his room, this room, he'd let a rare smile show. He misses their quiet friendship most of all. But she is happy on her ship with her crew and he has shit to do. He always has shit to do.

The thought, stark and unwelcome, snaps him back to the present. A scowl replaces his faraway look as he shuts the window to the new round of baudy tunes drifting up and straight into the headache knocking at his skull. He sits back down harder than he intended, and winces at the pain that lances down his back and into his leg. He can hear Nina, chastising him for not putting on the salve, for not resting. But he doesn't have the time. He can't do something as normal as rest. He has a city to run. Or at least the underbelly of a city to run.

The statements stare at him but the numbers swirl like melting ice-cream in a bowl, and he wants to throw the pages in the fire in frustration. But he has never acted on emotion, and he will not start now. So he pushes away from his desk, cane already cool under his fingertips, and makes his way to the floors of the crow club.

The passage muffles the sounds of chips cluttering on a table, and glasses set down hard on the wood, and shouting when someone wins, loses, almost gets decked for supposed cheating. But as soon as he steps past the doors, nodding at the two guards he'd posted at this entrance, all of that chaos surrounds him. There is no hush as he steps into the room, no blanket of fear or anger or anything. They don't even know he is there. They won't until he makes himself known. Spending years with his Wraith had taught him some things, even with the click of his cane. He looks to the corner expecting to spot Jesper; his heart, as it had done every day since they had all parted ways, clenched upon seeing the empty space where his sharpshooter was supposed to be. The disappointment doesn't stop his eyes from travelling to the table closest to the kitchens— or as the Nina lovingly called it, the muck hut— where Wylan was usually hunched over notebooks or losing to just about everyone, except maybe Inej, in a game of cards.

He misses them. He'd never tell them, would never let it so much as flash across his face, but he couldn't stop his heart from the same onslaught. He felt it every day. Every time he looked to his window and Inej wasn't perched atop it. Every time he walked to the gambling tables and Jesper wasn't leaning over it, brown eyes shining with hope. Every time he wandered the corridors of the club hearing Wylan's flute. When he decides to put salve on it's because he hears Nina's voice, sees her frown, as she tries so hard to heal them. He even misses Matthias but that is a road he doesn't allow himself to go down. A failure he cannot yet acknowledge. His trip down memory lane ends abruptly when a man with a hood over his eyes, shadowing his face, steps up to him.

"You Kaz, Kaz Brekker?" The voice is rough, almost too rough, but the lilting accent is familiar. Before he can place it the man is talking again.

"I want to speak with you, about a deal."

Kaz tilts his head, resting gloved hands on his cane as he takes the figure in. "Liar."

The man sputters jerking back, and just briefly he catches a glimpse of golden skin and something shiny pinned to his coat. "It's urgent!" The man's voice is not so rough, and that accent, charming in a way, bleeds through more and more.

"I'm not available for deals." It is not true, but he wants to see how they'll react, what they're capable of if he says no.

"You'll like this one." The roughness has been replaced by arrogance. And the world opens wide for Kaz.

"Come," He turns, already limping towards the doors and his rooms beyond. "Don't say anything until we're behind closed doors"

It takes them exactly one minute and twelve seconds to get to his study. As soon as he hears the door click behind him, he lifts his cane and with brutal precision he rips through the clasp at the man's chest and watches the coat land in a heap on his wooden floor. Letting the crows head of his cane fall back into his hand he finally looks up. "What are you doing here King?" The question holds more exhaustion than he's willing to admit.

"What?" The King of Ravka grins, beautiful and bright and full of arrogance, "You aren't happy to see me?"

And Kaz wants to tell him no and piss off and leave me alone, but his heart is pounding and there is blood rushing between his ears and he doesn't really remember what breathing does, how it works. Because this is the first time he's ever seen Nikolai. When they met all those years ago he was Sturmhond, the privateer. Since then Kaz has only seen posters, and art. But none of them, not a single one, has ever done the king justice. He is........ he is magic.

"Oh come on," The blonde is laughing. It sounds like water. It sounds like peace. "You can't expect me to act like a stranger after all the letters we've sent." Yes, the letters. The updates King Nikolai had requested about Ketterdam, about the barrel, about the illegal smuggling of grisha to work as slaves. Those letters. "What?" The King looks at him speculatively, amusement sparking in his hazel eyes— they suit him so much better than the green of Sturmhond. "Volcra got your tongue?"

“Didn't know you would be in town," Kaz manages to grind out. He hopes it sounds like irritation and not infatuation.

"The six million posters and seven ballads about my adventures aboard the Kingfisher were not notice enough?" That grin is back. It is ruining him. "Oh dear, next time I'll be sure to add floating parades to the mix."

"That's tomorrow." He glowers. He doesn't think the blonde could get anymore insufferable. He is wrong.

"Do you have plans to attend then?"

He ignores the question, the tease. "What are you doing here Lantsov?"

"I'm here for the festival Mr, Brekker."

"I mean here." He motions to the room, to him. "What are you doing in the Barrel, in my club—" He wants to say 'in my room'. He catches himself.

"I came," Nikolai steps a little closer. There's still do much distance between them, practically an ocean, but Kaz can feel the tension wrapping around his lungs. He wants out. He wants closer. He wants, he wants, he wants....... "To visit a friend Mr Brekker. I don't exchange letters detailing my failed attempt at diving through the sky with just anyone." Oh saints he's going to die. He's never going to survive this. His face is a brick wall, a crack where his frown breaks through.

"You are a busy man King, busier even, than i am." He wants to applaud himself for the steadiness of his voice. "I doubt that you had time to just pop by. So what do you want, Nikolai?"

There is a flash of something in those beautiful eyes, and he wants to chase it to the ends of the earth. "Must we always have an ulterior motive?" The voice is quiet, but it is filled with curiosity and emotions Kaz doesn't have the ability to unpack. "Is it not good enough that I wanted to see you Kaz."

The Underboss of Ketterdam becomes a rain, becomes wind, and earth, and gold. He sits down on his desk, uninterested in the groan of the wood as it tries to carry his weight. Nikolai looks at him, soft and open, all that charm hidden- packed away for a moment far removed from this one. Somehow the distance has shrunk between them until there is only two steps, maybe three before their bodies can collide. He knows Nikolai would not come closer, but some part of him wants the king to try. Wants to see what would happen. He shoves that part so far down it got to hell before him.

"Say something," The blonde whispers.

"How long till they realize you've snuck off?" The bark of laughter that escapes the king is like jurda straight into his bloodstream.

"We have an hour tops."

"Let's go." He throws a new hood, midnight blue and embellished with golden thread, at him. It's his own. He doesn't have time to find another. Nikolai puts it on, fastening the small gold clasp at his front, and Kaz has to remind himself to breathe when he sees how beautiful those colours are against that golden skin. It looks a thousand times better on Nikolai than it ever had in him.

"Where are we off to then?" The blonde asks, his familiar charm steady through his features once more. "You're not intending to kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder are you?" Before he can even start to ignore the question Nikolai is carrying on. "I have to tell you I won't make a very high bid. I seem to have botched myself a little when I turned into one of the Darkling's little pets. I think my di—"

"Shut up will you," He snaps, black eyes scanning the club as they walk through it.

"A little tense Mr Brekker," He can hear the grin. He doesn't know whether he wants to slap it or stare at it. He keeps walking.

They're outside and it's just started to drizzle and he has the brief thought that maybe he shouldn't be making the king of Ravka gallivant in the rain. But then he catches a glimpse of Nikolai's expression, full of wonder and glinting with excitement and he can't turn back even if he wants to.

"Kaz," Saints he loves the way the blonde says his name. "I really think it's better if I know where we're going, sake of safety and all that."

"We're going to the docks."

"You're not intending to drown me, are you?" There is no concern hidden behind the question, only delighted amusement.

"If I had intended to be rid of you Nikolai," Kaz turns his head, stares at the man, "I would have done it the second you walked into my club."

"Even though you didn't know it was me?"

It's his turn to smirk, and he revels in it. "I know everyone that comes into my club, King." The title reverberates in his throat. He catches the flash in the royal's eye.

"Why are you taking us to the docks?"

"I want to show you something, privateer." The strangled noise he hears in answer makes him force down the smile threatening to erupt.

The rain is at that awkward stage where it's more than a drizzle but less than a downpour. The kind that seeps into your clothes, makes your bones wet before you can even feel it on your skin. But they're almost there, he can see their destination clear in front of him. They are quiet, a rare thing for Nikolai he thinks, as they walk. Every now and then he glances to his companion who is always staring at the world in wonder. Like every corner produces a new kind of thrill. Like he'll be able to collect them all and bottle them for his journey home.

"Why are you staring at my pretty face?" The subject of his hidden amazement asks. "You've never been one to appreciate beauty Mr Brekker. If you did you'd have commented on my lovely violet wax seals at least once." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at that. The wax seals were the least interesting thing about the letters. He usually ripped them open like a mad man, clawing for the content inside and reading it as if it were going to disappear before he could get to the, 'fondly, Nikolai Lantsov' at the end.

"I have more interest in the contents inside."

At that the King does roll his eyes, "Oh yes, the ever so interesting reports about dock lookouts and safe grisha arrivals."

"It's my business."

"Mhm" Is all the blonde has to say.

They step onto the docks, and the tap of his cane, louder, more prominent on the wood, rings slightly in his ears. It's a comforting sound. One he has come to rely on to keep him steady. Especially when there's a king walking in stride with him, a king who kind of looks like the sun just before it disappears over the horizon. A king who scents his letters with lavender because he wants people to know calmness. A king who has never touched him but always stands close enough that he can feel the heat of him.

He recognizes the marker that tells him they're in the right place and then he motions for Nikolai to stay behind him. "Its small so we'll have to be close together." He says quietly.

"Are you okay with that?" The question is so gentle, so full of worry it almost buckles his knees.

"I'll manage."

"Kaz," He sounds hesitant, he sounds worried. "You don't have to force yourself to do something for me."

"I'm not, now come on before it disappears." And then they're stepping into an alcove only slightly bigger than a coffin and they're so close and there's so little air. But still Nikolai is not touching him and the leather of Kaz's gloves is warm against his skin. There is no part if him exposed to the elements, except his face. He takes one breath, takes two. The king is looking at him with concern, it is swimming in his features.

"Look up." Together they tilt their heads, and as the weak sunlight, bogged by rain, sinks to the floor the gems buried in the stones of the roof above them come ablaze. Crimson reds, and sapphire blues, and forest greens, and golden yellows. The light fractures and morphs and dances around them, like coloured stars.

He had discovered this wonder in a burning rage, trailing blood down the docks. He'd beaten up a man who betrayed their gang- dirty work for the boss- but half way down the docks he'd thought he was being followed and he slipped into this little alcove. He comes back every chance he gets.

"This is—" For once King Nikolai Lantsov is speechless. "How did you even find such a thing?" The hood had fallen off his head when he looked up so every angle of his face is on sharp display. The miserable lighting only made him more golden as if he was defying the weather simply by existing. And the gemstones reflected in his eyes, turning them every shade of rare rainbow. One of three Kaz had ever seen in Ketterdam.

He just raises a brow. "We should be getting back, I'm sure they've already sounded the alarm."

The blonde snorts, "They're used to it by now."

"Oh you sneak off to visit all your friends?" They step out carefully, making sure not to disturb the structure or get caught in the act.

"Feeling less special?"

"Wondering if maybe you should pay your guards more."

They bicker all the way back, about everything, trading wit and meaningless insults in equal measure. Kaz insists on dropping Nikolai off at his lodgings and Nikolai insists he doesn't have to despite leading them towards the building he's staying in. When they finally arrive, it is with a sense of longing for more that settles between them. More time, more laughter, more traded quips, just more.

"Goodbye Mr Brekker." The King bows his head.

"Nikolai." He nods.

"Come visit me in Ravka soon." It's the line he prints in every letter, no matter how far apart their replies are, or how many other things they have going on. Kaz never acknowledges it. He won't put that kind of hope into them. He must stay here. He must work.

But today, with happiness bubbling under his skin, he cant help but let loose a small smile and a dangerous promise. "I'll try."

And fading under the bustle of people is a small golden plaque on the floor of the alcove. "To those we love, and love unconditionally." A bigger promise, one that has lasted through time itself.

"That's all we can do Kaz," Nikolai smiles. "We try."

#Kaz x Nikolai #Nikolai x Kaz #Kaz Brekker/Nikolai Lantsov #grishaverse #The grisha trilogy #six of crows duology #shadow & bone #six of crows #Kaz Brekker #Nikolai Lantsov #TLYJ writes #soc #s&b

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popurikat · 3 years

Note

Ruin Teresa Agnes career. Aka: the Teresa analysis. Take all the time you need >:3

Okay I’m saying this right off the bat in case someone who stans this character misses the point above, but well I hate Teresa Agnes’ character in the maze series, both movie and book. However, in my analysis I will try to explain why her character misses the mark both as a villain and as a sympathetic character. So, to analyze her in depth, I’m putting this into parts under the read below. HEADS UP! As of now this analysis will exclude Death Cure Novel review as I have not finished that one, though it will mention one major spoiler I have been informed of from that book that I need to add for the sake of her character; other than that I will be discussing the other three novels before it (yes that is including the prequel Fever code) and the three movies from the series in broad ideas as I am not about to scavenge for quotes like I did in my last long post… well at least not as many.

Part 1: Teresa the master manipulator

No matter which way you look at it, Teresa has a way to bend others to her will, whether we blame WCKD for teaching her so well; or she used it as a means of survival, the idea still stands. Though she is extremely skilled in combat, especially at using spears and knives, Teresa’s biggest skill is her silver tongue, she can lie her way out of anything. Most evident is her betrayal in Scorch when she has such a good poker face that she not only convinces group B that Thomas is the problem they have to eradicate to get WCKD’s good side, but she also doesn’t hesitate to maim Thomas to the point of threatening to kill him: “Get in the room or I’ll hit you again. I swear I’ll keep doing it till you pass out or bleed to death” (Ch. 51). /sarcasm/ Charming ain’t she? /end of sarcasm/ The thing about lying though is that sometimes it backfires, for instance in the case of Group B, Harriet and Sonya hear Thomas out on why they shouldn’t kill him like Teresa asked, and when they listen and observe him they realize that Teresa is the worst and side with him; which in turn makes Teresa have to take drastic measures which involve getting Thomas alone with her to finish her duties to WCKD. Anyways, she even goes as far as to cement her betrayal by kissing Aris and crushing Thomas’ feelings by saying they were never a thing; she does this mind you without so much as breaking this character she builds up even though later she tries to say she still cares for Thomas. She is so convincing that Thomas has stated that: “Thomas had never heard such arrogance from her. She was either a really good actress or had started going crazy. Gained a split personality or two” (Ch. 45, Scorch). So yes, Teresa is too good at lying to the point I can say she can align as a Pathological Liar because she’s deceptive, goal-oriented in order to get HER way meaning she will not tolerate anyone interfering with her methods, she disregards the feelings of everyone around her, and she is constantly tweaking her excuses to adjust to the situations at hand. She is so good at lying she oozes self confidence when elaborating her defense by staring directly at the person she is talking to, unblinking, and will lash out in defense if someone calls her out on any inconsistencies.

Mind you this isn’t the first instance we get at how well she turns the story to her favor. In Fever Code, she is the one to help put the Gladers in the maze and erase Thomas’ memories, which transfers in Maze Runner with how she openly gaslights everyone by pretending she doesn’t remember much about WCKD’s doings even though her memories are the only ones implied to be in tact based on that email she wrote in Fever Code: “I’ve just said my goodbye to Thomas, and he’s now in the Glade, safe and sound. Tomorrow, it will be my turn. Dr. Paige has asked me to send a final note to everyone, sharing my thoughts. I’m more than happy to do so. I feel good about the plan to leave my and Aris’s memories intact. You need someone in each group with whom you can communicate and plan during the phases of the Trials”(FC epilogue) and also based on this specific tid bit in Maze Runner where she slips she knows more than she lets on: “Though I guess a Griever can’t squeeze through this window, so I’ll be happy, right?” The mention of Grievers surprised him -- he didn’t remember talking about them to her yet. ‘Teresa are you sure you’ve forgotten everything?”(Ch.37, pg.246). Griever knowledge in general for Teresa in Maze seems to be code talk for “I am here to cause trouble, I kept my memories'' because during the sequence with the fiasco with the invasion of the species in Group A’s field, Teresa casually wakes up after the event’s commotion subsides earning Newt’s suspicion that maybe the map fire was not done on accident. Anyways, in keeping things down low and having an advantage in memory recollection, she ensures Thomas and co. don’t recall events correctly unless it's vital to her mission. And yes, Teresa will use violence and anger if necessary; she is perfectly fine with murder...”So we’re just going to kill them all? [...] They’ll die anyway [...] No, Tom, It’s be tough now or everyone dies later”(Ch. 47, Fever Code). Or even this small aside on her stance on death overall: “This is kind of fun,’ Teresa whispered to Thomas. ‘Walking along with my new friend.’ He looked at her in bemused disbelief. ‘Really? You drop that bombshell about kids dying and now you act like it’s no big deal? You’re so weird.’ He tried to make a joke out of it to hide just how horrified he’s been by her second question” (Ch. 9, pg. 55, FC). And she has killed, mind you, yes they were cranks, but they are still humanly conscious. Thomas in comparison shows pity about the fact that they were still human, Teresa didn’t bat an eye. And now, you might say “Hey Popuri, you know, she’s just willing to kill if it means saving everyone else right?�� to which I go, sure she’s stated that if it means saving the rest it doesn’t matter if thousands or so die. However, she is also clear that she only cares about Thomas’ survival in specific, no one else; which immediately gets falsified by her “lie” in Scorch, thus she will kill anyone if need be no matter how close they are. What I’m saying is that not even Teresa has a clear path in why she manipulates everyone when she can so easily be convinced to make elaborate murder scenarios at the snap of WCKD’s fingers. She claims it's to save her “crush” but will not hesitate to shed his blood and drag him across the desert.

She claims it's to help WCKD, that WCKD is good, but she has bore witness time and time again that the facility makes countless errors and knows there's no REAL cure available … and Teresa is a smart kid, so why continue believing a hopeless façade? Because she's desperate to cling to some hope? No. Teresa doesn’t do the whole hope thing, she's convinced WCKD is good period, there's nothing else. So, even if there is no evidence anymore she will fight tooth and nail for something she herself is trapped in because no one will want to be there for the girl who treated her only connections as poorly as WCKD treated her. Therefore, is it because she can’t help it then? I can only imagine that's the case. She’s willingly this puppet for WCKD, she could’ve escaped them any time she liked like Thomas and co. did, but she prefers to stay on the burning train even if it means her own demise because she refuses to admit any of her actions were wrong, the truth will NOT set her free because she cannot confront it.

Moving forward, I wanna delve more into the whole telepathy dealio she specifically shares with Thomas and we actually never really learn if she can talk to others as she evades the question when it does arrive in book. The only certain thing is that if you have a chip, you can talk using your mind. Now this would be a fine plot device, but in the hands of someone who wants to control your every move and thought, well....”Thomas, this is Teresa. He was going crazy. He was actually going crazy. It was the oldest and most common symptom -- hearing voices in your head. ‘Uh...’, he said aloud. Is this working? Is this working? The last words landed between his eyes like a thunderbolt. The pain knocked his legs out from under him and he collapsed onto the floor. Never had the world felt so fluid beneath him, as if nothing solid existed, no form, no substance“ (Ch.20 , pg. 112, FC). So first things first, Thomas hates it when he gets a mind message, he feels extreme pain when someone tries it, this is recurrent throughout the series. He has told her a few times not to contact him through that method, but it's their little secret and besides, if he told anyone who would believe him? “Teresa shrugged. ‘You didn’t tell anyone, did you? They’d think we’re crazy“(Ch.36, Maze Runner). So we have a situation where Teresa has a huge way of overpowering Thomas, she can send images to his head without his consent and yell into his mind even if it means it hurts him. And the kicker? She doesn’t teach him how to use it on purpose. And when he tries to contact her? Well depending on her mood she can either be flirty or... well this: “Teresa? A pause. Teresa? A longer pause. Teresa! He shouted it mentally, his whole body tensing with effort. Teresa! Where are you? Please answer me! Why aren’t you trying to contact me? Ter- /GET OUT OF MY HEAD!/ The words exploded inside his mind, so vivid and so strangely audible within his skull that he felt lances of pain behind his eyes and in his ears. He sat up in bed, then stood. It was her. It was definitely her. Teresa? He pressed the first two fingers of both hands against his temples. Teresa? /WHOEVER YOU ARE , GET OUT OF MY SHUCK HEAD!/ Thomas stumbled backward until he sat down once again on the bed. His eyes were closed as he concentrated. Teresa, what are you talking about? It’s me. Thomas. Where are you? /SHUT UP!/ It was her, he had no doubt, but her mental voice was full of fear and anger /JUST SHUT UP! I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!/ But, Thomas began completely at a loss [...] /LEAVE ME ALONE, OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND CUT YOUR THROAT. I SWEAR IT. “ (Ch.8, FC). *sarcasm* ah yes, nothing says true love like a death threat that actually comes to near fruition later in that same book and pretending to not know that person only to later, upon meeting Thomas acting like a sobbing mess, kiss him and disappear...she sure knew him then huh? *end of sarcasm* Having a power imbalance in a relationship is, you know, not good, especially when you’re making it so you gaslight the person anytime they know something you don’t want them to or to have control over the situation. Teresa does this OFTEN. To the point that it makes Thomas so emotionally attached to her he finds it hard to admit he doesn’t need her, even when he’s been badly hurt.

Part 2: Your past does not excuse your bad actions in the present. Period.

Now let me clear something up, PAST ABUSE does not CONDONE you to HURT OTHERS in turn, let alone allows you to use it as an excuse to justify wrong actions. I am aware Teresa, aka Deedee, was abandoned due to an outbreak of the flare at an early age; had her name changed, was confined to a room with Thomas as her only friend who was the same age as her, and openly manipulated by adults to believe WCKD is good. But you know who else goes through the same treatment? LITERALLY EVERY KID EXPOSED TO THIS EXPERIMENT! AND THEY DON’T THREATEN EACH OTHER IF THEY DON’T GET THEIR WAY OR KILL EACH OTHER. And this is not said in order to justify that everyone with the same experiences will have the same reactions, I understand stressors and trauma affect everyone differently and acknowledge everyone needs a different support system. But like, for peeps sake, Thomas who is Teresa’s exact foil as a narrative play to show that they are more alike than they realize which is the flimsiest proof to grab at as to why they need each other to an extent; literally has the exact same story cut and paste from her and he has more empathy and compassion to those around him, than Teresa ever shows. WHY? If the idea is to show Teresa has hardened from her own experiences, she should in theory act more like Brenda, a renegade civilian that isn’t soft for anyone except the boy who will save her. I know in my explanation I compare Thomas and Teresa a lot, but it's hard not to when Teresa, though having Aris as another buddy who is also in on the whole WCKD scheme, still decides to CLING to Thomas to be her saving grace. And the thing is, even if she only ever trusted Thomas in this whole experiment, then why not confide in him or tell him what is happening? She doesn’t LISTEN to anything he says to her in turn. YES, Teresa knows more about the situation as a whole, YES she is capable of doing things by herself, but she never trusts anyone. You’d think she would be more open to talking to the kids her age or be the quiet type because she knows what will happen to them all if they don’t comply; but no, I can’t even describe her personality other than stoic one moment and complete chaos in the next, and she does that switch VERY often. But sure, she prefers to skew half truths and put everyone in danger because ….WCKD? She’s supposed to be the intellectual one and she doesn’t know how to spread her capabilities, no wonder Brenda is introduced in the second book.

It's also incomprehensible to me why she feels it necessary to follow WCKD in general when she was the first to know of all their evil doings? “They were at the door when Teresa stopped and asked Dr. Leavitt a question. Two, actually. And it was enough to change the man’s demeanor completely. ‘What’s a swipe trigger? And is it true that seven kids died during the implant surgeries?’ The questions stunned Thomas. He turned to look at Teresa as the doctor fumbled for an answer. ‘How...’ the man began, then stopped, realizing at the same moment what Thomas did: Teresa had stumbled on something major. Something true”(Ch. 9, pg.54, FC). You’d think she would have the maturity to one up WCKD and knock them from the inside out to save the one she “loves'' but she doesn’t, instead she abides by the facility...even when knowing they are the ones who made the Flare in the first place. Call me naïve, but wouldn’t it make sense that if she wants to help stop the Flare than it would be in her best interest to hold Ava at an inch of her life (and Ratman) until she fesses up how to reverse the Flare, only to then realize oops there never was a possibility for a cure ~, but in knowing this finally be rid of the one thing holding her back? Again, someone can argue that hey, she thinks the people who made it HAVE to eventually find the termination and either way what possible choice does she have when her own manipulators control her? But remember, in the end it's always been a huge experiment to eliminate the human populace, and that's motive enough to rebel and/or snap at the hand that feeds when it's gone too far. EVERYONE has a breaking point mentally and physically, THOMAS BREAKS DOWN SEVERAL TIMES IN THE SPAN OF THE SERIES BECAUSE HE CAN’T MAKE SENSE OF THE EXPERIMENTS AND THE REASON TO CONTINUE SURVIVING ONLY ON WCKDS TERMS. And it drives me insane that Teresa would openly keep the Gladers from knowing about their procedures when she has known the longest from everyone else! Oh? You want evidence that Teresa keeps her memories intact and lies about ever losing them, sure! Here, have a morsel: “Teresa..., he started to say, but then stumbled a void. He had no idea how to respond. Did you....did you already know this stuff? /I’ve heard rumors./ And you never told me? He was stunned. How could she have known this and never said anything? She was his best friend. The first person he went to with everything. /I just don’t see the point. Yes, we have reason to hate these people. But how is dwelling on the past going to help anybody? The solution is what matters./ Thomas had never been so blindsided in his life.../I’m really tired, Tom. Can we talk about it tomorrow?/ She was gone from his mind before he could respond [...] The next day Teresa refused to talk about it, emphasizing that she’d rather focus on the future than the past Dr. Paige also blew it off, saying that those decisions had been made well before her time. it was almost like they were both determined to forget” (Ch. 43, pg. 239, FC). TALK ABOUT BECOMING THE ONE THING THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO OVERCOME. Like goodness sake, Teresa was part of the prep and launch of putting each Glader into the Maze and she never doubted it, never fussed over how this was bad. The excuse of “this is for their own good, my own good, and the world’s” can only go so far when you are in an environment that is full of violence and trauma, you expect me to not believe Teresa just never broke down and truly analyzed how she can use her lies to one up her own abusers? She’s supposed to be this “empowering” female character and she can’t even get THAT right.

Part 3: How come the films did it better?

The film actually humanizes her a lot more and makes her motives at least justifiable in a fit of protecting the one you love. I know a lot of people dislike her character in the movies because it's more frail and sympathetic, but it was a very good way to justify her motives and plan out her actions from point A to point B. What do I mean by that? Let's take a look. Film Teresa enters the Maze without the ability to communicate to Thomas through telepathy, she still has her memories and she is still in close contact with WCKD, that much is still the same. Her motive though is to get everyone out of the maze and into stage 2 where the facility can round up the ones who have been viewed to be immune through the Maze Trials. So far so good, but pretty on par with the book right? Well, here is where it differs for the best. On the last act of Scorch, Teresa tells Thomas WITH SENTIMENT, no more lies and no more hiding that she contacted WCKD because it was needed to keep Thomas alive and well. WOW, notice how she doesn’t emotionally manipulate him and her innocent nature of trusting the scientists of her world to cure everyone actually leads her to be more sympathetic and relatable to the audience? In Death Cure, she doesn’t expect Thomas or ANYONE to forgive her for her actions and in fact takes her actions at face value. This Teresa is more understanding of the phrase “You can change, but those you’ve wronged have no obligation to forgive you” than book Teresa ever will. To the point that when she finds Thomas in the city and has bore witness to the startling realization that there indeed could be no cure cause her patient flares back up; of which is intentionally a little girl to reflect without showing that she can relate to the Flare stripping away her childhood, she then betrays WCKD by allowing the Gladers to infiltrate the facility, thus redeeming her when she dies in the explosion. Thus, making her in the film's eyes an anti-hero. As Skquill once told me, “Film teresa really did want to create a better future, and wanted to help people and that's what I like about film teresa. It didn't work. It literally blew up in her face. But, she tried, and she saved Thomas in the end.”

The only reason I don’t like Teresa even in the film is because she is kind of a wet blanket there, barely expresses any emotion beyond stoic token girl that cries sometimes, and she could’ve saved herself the whole betrayal arc if she just learned to better communicate her intentions instead of sobbing pathetically every time no one wants anything to do with her for her ill doings.Not to mention she still maintains her personality to a degree from the book (just call her diet Teresa really) because once both enter the sequence in Scorch where they ran out of pawns to move around they claim that they did what they had to do and they wouldn’t change a thing, they’d do it again if they could. It is only when both are at death’s door with no other choice that they give in some noble sacrifice at a chance for redemption, which is well too little too late. And in the opposing corner of knowing some people blame Thomas for not just allowing himself to be experimented on since the beginning, my rebuttal to be fair is that Teresa just again, sucked at explaining herself and the intentions of WCKD until it was deserving of a literal showdown bloodbath that evidently Tommy boy had to take defense to and threaten his life if anyone else died due to miscommunications. ALSO, IT'S HIS OWN BODY, HE CAN DO WHAT HE WANTS WITH IT INSTEAD OF HAVING OTHERS DICTATE WHAT HE NEEDS TO DO.

BUT ANYWAYS, book Teresa in comparison has even less characterization, I am sorry to say. SHE'S BARELY IN SCORCH AS IS, only coming out toward the climax because before that she is crying and kissing Thomas before going MIA for 45 chapters. Ouch. And when she does appear? She purposefully causes trouble that leads to essentially no where, we could’ve gotten to the safe haven way sooner without her interference.

Part 4: Is Book Teresa a good female character?

The simple answer? No.

The slightly longer answer? Even if I were to place her as the villain of the story she’s...not that good? Mostly because again, she acts as a puppet for a rich, governmental organization that basically implants how she should think and act. YET, somehow she is still smart, brave, lethal, and *ahem* UNBELIEVABLY BEAUTIFUL WITH HER LONG HAIR THAT IS BASICALLY DESCRIBED THE EXACT SAME WAY AS BRENDA’S, WHO FYI IS THE SLIGHTLY BETTER FEMALE LEAD THAT STILL CAN’T HOLD A COIN TO SONYA OR HARRIET (the background characters) THOUGH. I also need to say plainly, she has no gradual growth, she remains by her ideals and thinks she's right constantly in all but one book...which is one book too late and thus made meaningless. By no means is Teresa a mary sue, yet she still manages to be a stereotype in Maze Runner: “If you’re going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I’m pretty sure you’ll need a girl’s brain running the show”(ch.43); then again going most of the book in Scorch missing, and then unceremoniously gets crushed by a boulder in Death Cure as her final hurrah for all the bs she caused isn’t really a means to become a memorable character. This is the female supportive character I’m supposed to relate to and or praise for her dastardly, cunning intellect? If I were looking for a strong female with various flaws and a tragic end I would saunter over to Hunger Games’ Katniss instead. Teresa fails as a character the moment that her sole purpose is to be so emotionally/physically attached to Thomas that her whole character gets washed down the gutter so badly that Kill Order had to be made to justify her actions through a tragic backstory. In no way or form was I able to entertain this character as a favorite because she is everything I don’t want to be or befriend, and even as again, a “villain” she doesn’t exactly do much as the real masterminds are Ava and her cronies who MADE the disease and the trials. Even going as far as calling her an anti-hero feels off because none of her actions deliberately affect the plot or progress of our main character’s story. But that's kind of the thing with D*shner’s characterization of females overall? They’re either brutish or simply there. I don’t think any of them even pass the Bechdel Test.

Final thoughts:

I don’t like Teresa, I would personally fight her in a Denny’s parking lot at 3am if I could. I recall saying multiple times how she should just “shut up” as I read Maze and Scorch because most of her quotes are not memorable nor important. But in no way do I blame the character for the angst and tragedy of the novels overall. D*shner just...doesn’t seem to know how to make honest character growth and a decent plot, thus, in turn the story and its leads suffer tremendously as the narrative gets stretched out. (me yelling in the distance about how Crank Palace was made for clout). HOWEVER, In no way should my analysis stop people from finding Teresa as interesting or “cool”, I actually ENCOURAGE anyone that stans her to explain why to me because I personally don’t understand why beyond thinking “I just think she's chaotically evil and her treachery is fun to witness”. COOL IF THAT'S THE REASON OR EVEN IF YOU RE-WROTE HER TO BE BETTER! I just personally don't find her presence necessary for plot progression or as a love interest in general. It in fact sucks that she gets essentially replaced by Brenda almost as soon as the opportunity arises. In turn though, for others who don’t like her either as much as me, feel free to add onto this post any other “Teresa sucks and here's why” moments as I know there's a lot of moments out there to quote or paraphrase. Thanks for reading~

#Maze Runner #Maze Runner Series #Rant #Character dislike #I don't like Teresa #asks #Skquill #Long post

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