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emiewritesthings · 3 years

Text

doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness.

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.”

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince.

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended.

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.”

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about.

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.”

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other.

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.”

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building.

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter.

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.”

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar.

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy.

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.”

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side.

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.”

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours.

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace.

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense.

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed.

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.”

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before.

“you mean it?” he asked.

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable.

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence.

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer.

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.”

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

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quietlyimplode · 3 years

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do you take fic requests bc if you do could you do something like how in bw nat flinches when dreykov goes to hit her the first time and maybe when clint first meets her or something all she does is flinch and super submissive??

Hey Anon. Not sure if this is exactly what you’re thinking; I think there’s a strong correlation between why Natasha flinched and Dreykov being the ultimate abuser; I think that she would be able to differentiate him and Clint. I’m not sure she would have as violent reaction to someone she didn’t know, because that reaction (I think) is one borne of repeat trauma. Sooo this is a 5+1 touching on that reaction.

Warnings for: child abuse, child death, red room musings, domestic violence, child trafficking, black widow spoilers, and ptsd. (3045 words)

Forged.

Everything is so overwhelming. There are girls screaming, men with guns. She holds on tightly to Yelena and makes her stand behind her.

The guns have lights on them and she can’t follow them all.

There’s so many people, it’s loud, and confusing and Natasha just wants to cry.

Pain only makes you stronger.

But her chest hurts. It’s a ball of panic that hasn’t gone away since Mama Melina said she was sorry.

She tries to school her face so that it’s devoid of panic; but it’s hard. Yelena is holding her hand hard.

It happens quickly.

They grab Yelena and she yells and screams for her, tries to pull her back but they hit her in the face.

Disoriented, she loses track of her sister, the pain in her heart intensifies in panic and she catches sight of blonde hair. She rips the picture in her hand, and runs over to her.

She knew it was going to happen. She didn’t think it would be like this. She thought they could stay together.

“Take it.” She yells. “Take it.” And shoves it into Yelena’s hands. She’s pulled away and so is Yelena.

She can’t help the feral noises that break free from her body.

She doesn’t cry though.

Pain only makes you stronger and she is in so, so much pain.

She’s lined up with the others and is made to step forward.

She sees him; the man from Cuba. The one Papa Alexei embraced. He walks up to her.

He smells of cigars and strong cologne and it takes everything she has to hold his gaze and not turn up her nose.

The man grabs her head, and she flinches hard against his hands. He gets closer and there’s something in her that remembers this man.

“The Red Room is your home now,” he tells her and looks her up and down, gaze lingering.

He pushes her into a line with 3 older girls and she bites the inside of her mouth as hard as she can to stop herself hyperventilating and panicking.

Pain. She reminds herself.

Pain.

There’s four girls with her. The biggest of the guards is closest to her and three more stand over the others. Of course, they think it’s her, that she’s the ringleader. They’re not wrong, but it does make her think that she should perhaps try and stay under the radar a little more.

They’re all standing in front of Dreykov who exudes anger. She can count the number of times on her hand that she’s had to stand in front of him, this is the first time in her nightdress. She’s self conscious all at once and she crosses her arms around her body.

“Stand front!” The guard yells, gun in her face. She startles, as she drops her arms down to her sides, fists clenching.

Svetlana glances tentatively at her and she bows her head.

Dreykov hasn’t said anything and they’re all awaiting punishment. She knew she shouldn’t have smuggled in the Nutella but she was so excited about the new taste, the deliciousness of the spread that she could share.

He turns to face her and her blood runs cold.

“Kill them.” He says looking directly at her, his face curled in a snarl.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head hard.

He laughs.

“Fine.” He looks to the other four.

“Kill her.” He says and ducks his head towards Natasha.

Svetlana is closest, the guards step back as she steps forward, intentions clear and Natasha can see the smile that plays across his face.

Sadists.

She’s old enough now to know to use the environment to protect herself as well, knows this room and, has taken stock of all the things in the room that could be used as a weapon. She assumed, of course, that they would be used against her, not that she would have to use them against the others.

The first punch comes from Odette, a kick from Sevenya, and attempted restraint from Clara and Svetlana. Natasha protects her head, trying to find an opening where she can get one of the girls between her so the other three have to go through her first.

It’s Clara that she throws on the floor in the way of Odette and she narrowly avoids a letter opener thrown at her head. It clatters for the floor and she scrambled back to pick it up. Holding it in front of her, she looks at the others. It’s not malice on their faces but fear.

Dreykov looks on in amusement and then looks at his watch.

Natasha waits for Odette to attack again. She was always the most impulsive. She spins to the side and kneels and feels the letter opener slice across her femoral artery, she knows she’s hit it when the gush of blood accompanies it.

She has no time to ponder it as she tries to pull the weapon out, Clara is on her again. Natasha kicks up catching her under her chin, the sound of skin hitting skin, her bare foot tingling. She pushes Clara back, adrenaline fading and fatigue setting in for all of them. Sloppy punches end up in hair pulling as Natasha swings her legs up and around her neck. Maybe if she knocks her out, she won’t have to do it.

“Enough.” Dreykov’s voice is clear and she detects the anger on it.

He pulls his gun and shoots Clara and Odette.

She flinches at the sound and almost vomits as she sees Clara take her last breath.

“Leave now. You have no place in the world, as such you may take nothing and have nothing. You will be searched on entry and exit.” He says, enunciating every word.

Natasha attempts a glance at the other two girls but they won’t meet her gaze. They all know what being searched means.

The bodies of Clara and Odette are dragged out one door as they leave through another.

Natasha stretches. The apartment on the west side is sunny and she lays on the floor basking in the heat like a cat. She should get up and get something to eat, her stomach letting her know that it’s time, but this position is so relaxing and soothing that she ignores it; just for now. Closing her eyes she listens to the lull of slow paced music she put on earlier.

She given herself two days to do nothing. She’s sure that she’s off the radar and knows that her body and her mind needs rest. If only it worked that way.

Being on the run isn’t new. Being a fugitive from the red room and staying low is fine. She just needs to decide what she wants out of life; these are the bigger decisions that she’s putting on the back burner. Just for now.

The sun sets low and the slow growl of her tummy, lets her know that it’s truly time to get up; tend to herself and find the Thai place that knows her order when she walks in the door. A fact that she’s not sure she should be worried about.

Pulling on a jacket, she turns to set her own locks, and then moves to the door to lock it with her keys.

A bang, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a yell make her flinch hard, dropping her keys to the floor. A flash of a guard and her head whipping back from a punch is almost identical to the sound she just heard, and it takes her a second to get her breathing under control. Natasha feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up, knowing the likelihood of what she’s just heard.

She’s got a choice to make.

Help, and potentially expose herself.

Do nothing, and more red on her ledger.

Bucking courage, she walks inaudibly down the hall. Locates the sound where there’s the faint sound of crying and the low rumble of a mans voice.

She knocks, loudly and confidently.

There’s silence, before the door opens ajar, and she pushes it into his face and walks in.

“Bitch what do you think you’re doin?” Comes the drawl as he follows her.

“Did you hit her?” She asks voice low and dangerous.

“What?”

“Did you, hit her?” Natasha points to the crying woman, whose face is swollen and red.

“Who do you think you are?” The man stands over Natasha and stares down at her. She cocks her head and stares back. He goes to grab her and she turns her body, grabbing his hand and twisting, making him drop to his knees.

She twists again hard, and he grunts and cries out. There’s a strong smell of cologne, the same as Dreykov and she snaps. She breaks his hand and punches him in the face. Hears the crack of fist against cheek and shouts at him.

“How dare you?” She grunts at him, standing over him. She punches him again.

“You think it makes you more of a man?”

There’s blood on her knuckles.

The woman is asking her to stop; and she’s crying harder.

Natasha knows what she’s done, she’s not upset with herself.

She squats next to the man with the broken nose and bloodshot eyes; blood spattered making for a gruesome scene. She gets close to his face.

“Nod if you can hear me.” She says. He nods; a short dip of his head.

“I will kill you if you ever touch her again.” She promises.

“I know where you live.” She nods to the mechanic jacket hanging, “I know where you work.” She stands up.

“I will be watching.”

Clint watches Natasha playing chess against herself and holds up the takeaway.

“Come play against me,” she invites and he laughs.

“You think you can take me?” He asks.

She finally looks up to him and grins.

“Always.”

He puts the paper bag down on the stove and laughs as she sets it up again.

“I haven’t won once, doesn’t it get boring playing against me?” His eyes twinkle at her as he looks at her, both of them smiling.

Natasha opens as she always does by moving her pawn. Clint copies her move.

She’s about to make her second move when they’re interrupted by the smoke alarm chirping and a small flame coming from the paper bag on the stove.

He laughs. Says something about not knowing the stove was still warm and waves the tea towel across the smoke alarm.

It takes him a moment, but he realises she’s not joking with him. In fact.

She’s frozen.

“Natasha?”

There’s a whine and a choked noise.

“No. Nononono.” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Make it stop. Make it stop.”

He’s scrambling now.

“Please?” He looks to where she’s looking, the smoking bag, a flame.

“Make it stop.” She repeats again.

His heart drops and he finally gets the tiny flame under control, dumping it in the sink. She’s staring where it was. Eyes blank, body tight.

He moves over to her and reaches over to her.

Natasha flinches at his touch; his hands retract quickly.

“It’s ok, Natasha.”

The haunted look doesn’t leave her face but she stands and moves away.

“Yeah, it’s ok.”she repeats back.

She leaves for the bedroom and he follows her tentatively,

“Just. Give me a minute.” She requests and shuts the bathroom door.

He sits on the bed waiting for her to emerge. He stays until he hears the tap run, and the door unlock.

When she emerges she looks the same as before, face relaxed, mask on.

“You ok?” He asks, tentatively.

“Fine.” She nods.

Clint nods with her.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks tentatively, not really knowing what to do next. The fact that she’s freaked out on him and managed to pull herself back together in the space of ten minutes is suspicious, and he feels he needs to walk on eggshells around her.

She shrugs and melts into the couch, knees to her chest.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” He ventures, sitting next to her.

“No.”

It doesn’t leave any space for probing, so he stops talking. Let’s her figure it out herself.

She uncurls herself and stands.

“Actually. I’m just going to go home.” She nods to the chess set. “Thanks for the game.”

He stands alongside her.

“You sure?” He asks, it’s not right he knows. He should keep her here, make sure she’s ok. But. They’re not there. He’s not her confidant. He’s not the one she goes to.

Natasha nods.

“Thanks.” She grabs her coat and makes for the door, passing through the threshold, pausing slightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time he reaches the door frame, she’s gone.

Natasha has done hard things in life. She knows she has. Her whole childhood was lucky survival, and she knows it. But this. This is intentional bravery and even if she dies she knows it’s the right thing.

Being in front of him, is possibly the hardest, most confronting and perhaps masochistic move she could have taken, but given the short time frame Melina gave her, she didn’t see another way.

As he talks to her.

As he goes to touch her face.

It takes all of her not to react.

To be still.

To remember to breathe.

She asks about her mother because she can’t help it, and he tears the knife through her soul.

She wasn’t unknown. She was Natasha and all the other mothers who fought for orphaned little girls. She buries it deep, masking her face, unable to stop her eyes watering.

He makes Antonia uncover herself, and she’s ripped apart again.

Natasha carries the scars of her death on the inside. Antonia carries them on the outside.

She can’t believe what she’s hearing, seeing and wants with every once of her being to say she’s sorry. Of all the deaths she’s being responsible for, Antonia’s is the one she needs to atone for the most.

She’s alive and it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing.

Dreykov taunts her as she knew he would and sends Antonia away. It’s enough to make her mind flip back to the plan.

Finally, the opportunity to shove a gun in his face. She knows it won’t work. But the little voice inside her head thought maybe, just maybe she would be stronger than the pheromone lock. She wasn’t strong enough as a child to fight back when they took her from her bed, or when she wanted with every once of her being to protect others; but she thought maybe being separated from him, being older, grown; she wouldn’t be subjected to the same weaknesses.

She was wrong.

She can’t pull the trigger.

She can’t stab him through the heart.

And as he touches her and peels the knife from her fingers, she can feel the panic welling inside her.

She’s traipsed into the lions den, full of confidence but she’s nothing compared to science and manipulation. Despair fills every inch of her as he’s close enough to smell. The old sickly cologne that haunts her nightmares, that makes her snap into rages when she gets a whiff of it on any other man, and as it’s paired with the smell of a cigar, she’s torn back to him grabbing her face and telling her the Red Room is her home.

She is home.

She tries to outrun it but he’s going to turn her back into a mindless automaton. Not with trigger words this time. Not with pain. Or fear, or even threats. It’s all chemical. She has no choice.

Her whole body shudders in visceral pain as he gets closer to her, talking to her, saying her name.

Her voice is low as she keeps up the charade.

Sever the nerve; and it will be ok.

Sever the nerve; and he will have no control.

But.

As he raises his hand to her, she can’t do it. She flinches away and she’s so disappointed in herself. Old habits, isn’t that what they say?

She’s 10 and her eyes are black.

She’s 11 and her body knows not to bruise so easily.

She’s 12 and can take a punch easily.

Natasha bites down heavily on her cheeks drawing blood. It’s grounding. He moves away from her and mumbles something about Melina.

Control.

Control the narrative. Make him say what she needs. This is not about her.

This is not about her trauma.

She breathes heavily as he reiterates the plan to her and she tapers the panic.

Bait him.

Make him cooperate.

She can do this.

She can do hard things.

The television plays and the heater whirs as Natasha sits on the big chair reading her book. She sips the sweet drink she prepared for herself and pulls the blanket up. There’s a softness about the night, and it’s built on not having any competing priorities. Not having to be anywhere the next day.

She’s alone but it’s peaceful, and allows her to mull over the words she reads.

“Being kind to yourself is the greatest kindness.” Is the quote that sticks in her head, and, as she picks up the chocolate on her left, she’s knows it’s the truth.

For once, her brain is calm and she knows the safety of this place. Clint would call it a controlled environment but she prefers to think of it as safety.

In the life of a spy, there’s no place safe enough, no turning off the low level anxiety that always follows her around, but somehow; here, she can.

She looks out the window and admires the trees atop the mountain she can see, marvels in the low fog that gathers around and has a life of its own as it moves around outside in the darkness.

There’s no light pollution, except what’s coming from inside the house.

She glances at the time, glad she made the connection, the phone call she’s expecting not breaking the peace or make her flinch at the unexpected noise permeating peace.

Natasha sets down her book and picks up her phone. One minute.

Right on cue it rings.

She smiles.

“Hey.”

All my fic.

#black widow spoilers #the black widow movie #natasha romanoff #clint barton #black widow #widows #Natasha flinching #general dreykov #my fic #ask away #prompts #child abuse tw #ptsd #domestic violence tw #child death tw #tw red room #red room horribleness in this one #black widow fic

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elfwoodfae · 3 years

Text

“Nightcall” Harrison Eo Wells x reader

Chapter-7

Warning: Smut.

Summary: Honestly this is mostly smut but you can see a change in the way the reader feels about Wells.

Author’s note: As always please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy it. Also I really love that gif and the scene where is from.

Gif credits go to the owner, I found this one on google.

Rolling into his house late at night, he waited until the doors closed to get up the chair and walk up to the light switch, turning them on as he grabbed the speakers control to turn on the opera music he used to listen to in order to relax.

He went over to the kitchen counter, serving himself a drink from the decanter he kept there. Smelling the alcohol before taking a swing. He rolled his head back in satisfaction, a second later he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, taking it out he read over the message, he grunted at the screen. It was a message from you, saying you needed to see him.

He debated it for a second, closing his eyes as an image of your naked body on top of him flashed through his mind. He remembered your face, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. His pants tightened at the memory and he thought over how much was worth the risk of him going over. He had made enough calculations to know that you wouldn’t affect the outcome of his plan. You were a pawn in his chess game that wouldn’t matter in the endgame.

“Are you alone?” He replied to your message, not wanting to risk going over and finding the delightful surprise of Cisco or Caitlin meddling around.

“Yes” you replied and he internally debated once more how much he wanted to go and how much he should go. Fifteen years didn’t go by easy when one was as alone as he had been.

In a torrent of lighting he left his house making his way in a couple of seconds to your apartment. He phased himself through your door not wanting to risk someone seeing him out and about.

There you stood, your back facing him, your hair was down and you were wearing that same almost long enough to cover your ass shirt you had worn the first time he visited you as the reverse flash.

“If I am not mistaken you made it perfectly clear that what happened was a mistake and I very much doubt you called me here to play a game of chess” he said as you turned to face him.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?” You questioned him crossing your arms over your chest.

“I can’t help but wonder why?” He replied to you.

“Let’s put it this way, you are getting something out of our agreement, you get your secret safe with me, but what do I get?” You told him rocking on the heel of your feet.

“Your life, and the promise of Henry Allen’s freedom or have you forgotten?” He said as he looked at you, trying to decipher the game you were playing.

“You have made it very hard to forget, but I want something else, something exciting.”

“Huh” he said while moving his head back and smirking at you in thought.

“Let me see if I get this clear, you…” he said while pointing at you. “Want to use me…” he pointed at himself before continuing.

“I am not using you, is more like a last time thing for you to remind me why I should stay quiet.” That was a long shot you took. A dangerous long shot you took there.

“Be careful little one, you don’t want to get burn.” He whispered in that tone that made your blood boil and the end of your hairs stand.

Before you could reply he was in front of you. His hands grasping at your waist as he lowered his mouth to kiss you. His kiss was rough and savage, animalistic even, he didn’t take time with pleasantries. His tongue ran over your lips and you took it as your cue to let him in. The kiss deepened and your hands found his hair, running them through it and pulling at the nape of his neck.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you only in your underwear in front of him. You tried to remove his jacket and he helped you get rid of it before your hands went under his shirt running to his back to pull him to you, pressing his body flush to yours.

Pushing him you made him walk to your bedroom. Getting rid of his shirt in the process. Once you made it near the end of the bed you started to fumble with his belt taking it off and unbuttoning his pants, breaking the kiss to look him in the eyes as you palmed his cock through his briefs.

In a second you were laid back in the bed, him on top of you kissing your neck, his pants gone. His kisses trailed down the valley of your breasts. He kissed the soft skin and left small bites and lovemarks on his way, his hand kneading the soft mound. His kisses trailed lower, passing your belly button and your breath hitched, you knew where he was going, you felt your wetness grow at the expectation.

His hands kept running down to settle in your butt cheeks as his kisses reached your underwear. Once he got rid of it the sight of you made his cock throb painfully in his underwear, he could see the glistening of your wetness in your folds, making him groan. He ran his thumb over your wetness, feeling how slick and ready you were. You moaned at the sensation and opened your legs more to give him better access.

Slowly he moved close enough to give you one long lick with his tongue flat against you and as he licked down he moved his head sideways to be able to capture your clit in between his lips, applying enough pressure to make you moan out and arch your back. He kissed it like it was your mouth, exploring every angle and curve.

His tongue flickered over your clit, moving fast enough and with enough pressure to make you feel yourself growing closer and closer. He could feel you getting wetter by the second and his fingers found your pulsing entrance, you were ready and about to explode. As he ate you out his finger found the spot inside of you he knew drove you crazy and as he stimulated it he speeded up his tongue to work faster on you. Feeling your walls contract around his fingers and your hand dig into his hair as you moaned hard lifting your back off the bed he helped you through your orgasm, making sure to give enough attention to every part of you.

Once you came down from your high, you tried to pull him up to you, only for his hands to lock in your thighs as his tongue started to vibrate in your sensitive clit. Your head rolled back as you felt yourself building up again. He increased the speed of his tongue and pressed it harder to you making you moan and bite your lip.

“Harrison” you cried out to him pulling his hair and trying to get him to move but he was set on making you come again.

Moaning into the air you felt yourself coming again, the intensity of it making you feel weak after having one orgasm after the other.

Once he was satisfied with his work he kissed your thigh gently and moved himself up in between your legs, running his hands through your back as he kissed you, bitting your bottom lip as his hand ran down your leg feeling the softest of your skin. Kissing along your jaw and down your neck he got rid of his boxers and moved to rub the head of his cock against your swollen entrance. Kissing you softly his hands found yours and as he interlocked your fingers together he pushed himself inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your walls soft and wet surrounding him. Moaning into your mouth as he bottomed out on you he took a second to enjoy the feeling you gave him.

Setting his pace he started to thrust into you. You were a mess by now, your body felt on fire and the way his cock pushed into you with every thrust made you feel as if you would pass out at any second. But having him like this on top of you, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smell of his cologne, the way his body fitted you perfectly was like torture to you. A punishment for yourself at how good he felt and how much you wished this was a heaven you could live everyday in.

His eyes found yours and you could drown on those blue orbs he had. They were electrifying. You wanted to hold him closer to you, to feel him all around you. You freed your hands from his hand and held onto his shoulders, hugging them and bringing him closer to you, kissing him hard as his hands moved to hold your face.

You felt him move his hand down to your clit, vibrating his fingers as they brushed over it. Your head rolled back instinctively and your teeth caught your bottom lip as you cried out for him.

“I… I can’t come again” you moaned into him, feeling him bury himself over and over into you.

“Yes you can, come for me one more time” he whispered to you as you felt your eyes close and your body tense, bitting your lips to muffle your moans as you came over his cock.

He couldn’t help but grab at the bedsheets, his hands fisted as his own eyes closed at the feeling of you coming again for the third time, this time over his cock. He felt himself loosing it, getting closer and closer he speeded up chasing his own relieve, feeling your walls still squeezing him so tightly it was almost painful. He kissed you once again as he came inside of you. Feeling the sweet relief of his own orgasm.

After a few minutes he moved to the side, staying close to you as you tried to catch your breath.

“I don’t assume you are the kind to stay the night?” You wondered as you looked at him.

“I doubt you want to cuddle me and exchange pillow talk” he replied as he sat up in the bed.

“You are insufferable.” You said as you turned on your side and covered your head with your blanket, feeling a gush of wind hit you, indicating that he was gone. You wouldn’t admit it to him or to yourself but you felt a pull of pain in your heart at the emptiness he left behind. You really wished he had stayed, you wished you could have woken up to him next to you if not forever at least for one night.

@mintchipcupcake

@yetanotherwells

@saltykidcreation

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

#the flash imagines #eobard thawne fanfic #eowells fanfic #eowells x reader #harrison wells fanfic #harrison wells x y/n #eobard thawne x reader #the flash fanfiction #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harrison eo wells imagine #harrison eo wells x reader fanfic #harrison eo wells x reader #smut

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (part four)

-part four because I couldn’t fit everything in part three-i went overboard, I’m sorry

-please enjoy I worked a month on getting this out, haha. it is a labour of tears and love.

---->PREVIOUS PART <-----

Summary: You need your memories back. But how will you get them?

Gracefield House

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?” You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try. Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together?

“Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. He forced himself to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Don’t struggle.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off the ground. Your leg hit Mama’s arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma stood frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She wrapped you in a tight embrace and you rubbed her back comfortingly. It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

(University name), DAY TWO

Class went by rather quickly today, and maybe that was because you were sure you’d seen similar material before. Each answer came easily along with each mark on your paper like a memory from long ago. You’ve answered harder questions, much more difficult tests that held more weight than a simple grade.

“I was impressed by your extensive knowledge on world history,” said Mr. Baker. He was the world history teacher. Unlike the others, he was young, perhaps in his mid twenties. In the hour you’ve gotten to know him and the class, you’ve come to realise he’s a class favourite. For good reason, too. His jokes were phenomenal, the material entertaining, and the atmosphere, friendly.

It was like having a conversation between friends rather than teacher to student.

“Do you know what school you went to before you came here?” he inquired. You shook your head. “No. I don’t think I went to any school before this actually...but I’m not sure. I wish I knew, sorry Mr. Baker.” He offered a warm smile. “Maybe my jokes will remind you of something. In the mean time, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

Eventually. You didn’t want to remember ‘eventually’. Living a life of ignorance was difficult as it was, why should you continue it? You adjusted your grip on a notebook and said, “See you tomorrow Mr. Baker.”

“Same to you, Letha.”

The cafeteria wasn’t hard to find. Students crowded in the hallways, pushing and shoving as they stuck close to hurry towards for their meals. You didn’t care much for the food. There wasn’t any way it could measure up to your, or Gramps’s, cooking anyway.

“Letha!”

You spun around as much as you could in the congested hall. Flanna raised a hand above her head and waved. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking for you. “Letha, you comin’?” There was no way out of avoiding the red-head. She had too much energy, and an eerily observant eye hidden under her smile.

“Hello to you too, Flanna.” you said, matching her step. Flanna grinned brightly. “Are you excited for lunch? My first day here, I thought it’d taste terrible. You’d be surprised how good it is, but maybe that’s because the school’s expensive.” She let out a snort that was lost to the chatter of the crowd.

The cafe wasn’t all too big. Despite the long tables stretching out across the floor, and the high ceilings and tall windows, it felt small. Crowded. The sheer amount of teens gathered in one area was daunting, scary even. It made your head spin, and your stomach lurch in disgust.

Was this what everyone dealt with every single day? How could they do it? This was madness.

Flanna patted your shoulder and led you towards the lunch line. “You get used to it after a while. Can’t say I have, but it’s not so bad.” She handed you a cup of fruit from a large cooler. You watched as she did the same and instructed the lunch lady on exactly what she wanted.

You copied her. It was all you could do to prevent embarrassing yourself.

Once you found a table, a long sigh left your lips. “That was actually...a bit stressful.” Flanna chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I get it, you’re shy, aren’t you? I had a friend like that back in ninth grade when I still lived in the countryside. Couldn’t even go in line without help from me.”

“What happened to that friend?”

“Moved away. Lots of people do. They like the city because it’s “full of opportunity”.” Flanna rolled her eyes. “I think it depends on what you want. I’d prefer a quiet life where all I have to do is take care of a farm. You know, sheep, chicken, cows. It’s easy because the only person who’s your boss is you.”

Flanna clearly didn’t favour modern life as much as her peers. She went on about the difficulties of technology and how they were “nothin’ but trouble” for simple folk. You couldn’t say much about that, but you wish you understood.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. It turned out, your last three classes were with Flanna. She didn’t talk as much in class, but she asked you a lot of questions about why you knew so much. Of course, you couldn't remember, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know who you truly were.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The setting sun illuminated the sides of your face as you glared at the frosty grass below your winter boots. You stood outside, wrapped tightly in your thick, fur coat. It was Gramps’s daughter’s before yours, so it smelled like him. The forest. A cosy fireplace. Hot chocolate. It did little to comfort your aching heart, and maybe that was because a part of it was still missing.

Standing in the last rays of sun reminded you of that boy with light hair and kind eyes. It reminded you of his touch that refused to leave your mind. He was scorched there like an emblem on wood.

“So why can’t I remember you?” Your words were lost to the harsh, frosty breezes. “Who are you to me?” He wasn’t family, that much you knew, nor a friend either. He was much more. Much closer to your heart than either of those.

-----

This wasn't a massacre. It was the shambles of a bloody war.

The remnants of limbs and broken bones lay strewn across the throne room, where pools of crimson stained the tile flooring with its iron stench. Part of you wished you hadn’t opened the door, and another said it was your fault for letting everything get this far.

Would you have been able to stop Norman if you ran faster? If you had stopped him earlier?

Your stomach flopped and turned. The smirk painted on Norman’s lips wasn’t right. It wasn’t him. He was satisfied, not with the massacre, but with how perfectly his plan had been executed. It played out like a game of chess. Each pawn he sent out had been eliminated, leaving only the most powerful pieces on the checkered board.

“I’m sorry,” Norman said. “It’s too late (Y/n).”

He wasn’t sorry and he sure didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to you. Or at least, that was what you wanted to believe. Every fibre in your body screamed at you to run at him, slap him to the moon and back, or beat him to a pulp for lying and cheating you all. Yet you couldn’t do it. Not with the way he kept his eyes to the floor.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” he added. “It’s a shame you were a little too late.” Your gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before you cast it to Ray and Emma. They stood strong with you, yet you had a feeling they wanted to waver just as much as you.

Emma stared at the sticky crimson under her boot, eyes wide in disbelief. “They’ve...they’ve all been...?”

“Killed.” Norman plainly finished. “They killed each other and they’re all dead now. The Queen, the nobles, the Giran clan. All of them.” Despite the pleasant way he spoke, you had a feeling he didn’t mean it. The Norman you grew up with--no--the Norman you knew wasn’t like this. He was kind. Gentle. Sweet. He cared for everyone and everything, which was why he chose to be shipped out in the first place.

And why he always chose to be the sacrifice.

You heaved in a deep breath. If this were the reality of your situation, you had to accept it. Ignoring Norman for who he was and what he did wouldn’t do a thing.

“I reforged the Promise.” You made your way across the room, eyes straight and head held high. The smug glint in Norman’s eyes vanished.

“Everybody can escape to the human world and no one needs to fight. You don’t have to kill anymore, it’s over.” That was what you wanted to believe with every fibre of your being. But was it really all over? Could you escape to the human world and leave this place after what’s happened?

Norman shook his head, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s too late for that.” he plainly said. “No, it’s impossible. A monarchy that has lasted thousands of years has collapsed. Governance for the demons is impossible now. So is peace.” He glanced at the lifeless body behind him. “Iverk was the last one, and I killed him myself.”

You stiffened.

“We’ve put a lethal fissure in the demon society. A fissure that can’t be mended. All that’s left to do is,” he threw out a careless hand, “shatter it. All of the demons will die out. There’s just one more factor left. We can’t go back now. We have no choice but to wipe them out.” He straightened and it was like you were staring at a different person. There was no kindness in his eyes, or that light that you’ve relied on to keep you waking up every morning. “Don’t get in the way.”

You clenched a fist. “No.” Your voice came out strong, reassuring. “What is the point in wiping out a whole race just because we can’t see eye-to-eye? There’s hope and I’ve finally grasped it! For thousands of years, there’s been a cycle of slaughter and war that we have to break. I don’t plan on standing back, and I don’t plan on letting you become more of a murderer!”

Norman’s eyes were dark from under his cloak. “(Y/n)...”

You stood your ground. Defying him was the only way you could stay strong, the only way you could convince him. “We’ll find a way together! It’s not going to be easy, but I know we can do it!”

“(Y/n)...!”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself again and I’m not letting you do this alone!”

Norman’s tight expression relaxed into an uncomfortably serene smile. “What are you talking about?” he lightly inquired. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere.”

You heaved in a sharp breath because he stopped telling you the whole truth ages ago. He stopped relying on you because he thought he had to do everything alone. “I can’t trust you. You’re a liar! You think you can fool me? I know something’s wrong with you, you’re just trying to hide it! Don’t underestimate the family you grew up with, stupid Norman. We can see through all your lies and tricks!”

You thought back to the day you walked into his office alone.

I know you Norman, don’t forget that.

It had been too long since you’d seen him and thought him dead. Too long since you were able to hold his hands in yours.

And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.

It was nice to see him again, yet there was something off about him. He hadn’t changed much besides growing as tall as a tree.

I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again...

The only difference was the hesitance in his stance. As if he were trying to hide something very painful in his chest.

...but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.

Then he left your words open-ended, as if he knew he couldn’t possibly lie to your face like that. He knew you saw through him from the start. It was only a matter of time before he acknowledged it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you slowly inquired. “Because you’re so smart, you chose the reliable path. Because you’re so kind, you shoulder all the burden. I know you Norman, didn’t I tell you? You don’t want to slaughter the demons! And you don’t want to wipe them out either!”

That was the truth that shone in your heart. You wanted to believe in Norman because he always believed in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go the Seven Walls. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t have allowed you to walk without him.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” you added. “What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?” He raised a brow challengingly. “Afraid?” Norman wanted to laugh. “I’m not...”

“The Norman in front of me looks like a scared child.” You said it like it was fact, and judging by the way Norman’s gaze unfocused, you were right. He wasn’t just scared, he was terrified. Of the consequences, of how you would look at him again, of how the blood would never, ever wash off.

But it was okay, right? He was strong. Just a little longer and it would all be over.

You took a step forward. Norman firmly held out a hand. “Don’t come any closer.” His voice was void of any emotion, cold even. “I’ve come this far. I have no intention of turning back now.”

“Well that’s too bad!” you exclaimed. “Because neither do I! I’m not letting you go this time!” You grasped his hands in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you’re strong, yes you’re smart and you’re amazing and all those great things, but you’re stupid too! And arrogant! Can’t you see that you aren’t alone? Don’t be afraid to believe in us! We’re here to share everything. The tough, the burden, the painful things and the scary!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve done that since day one. It’s what we’re here for!” Ray locked gazes with Norman. He wasn’t about to be left out of this, not after Norman’s little stunt back in Grace Field. “Don’t be so reserved either,” he added. “Just spill it!”

You squeezed his hands tighter and stood a little closer. “You don’t need to protect us anymore! We want to walk with you, not behind you!” Answers were simple, but the journey was everlasting and dangerous. You understood what it took to get here even if you weren’t walking in Norman’s shoes. It was difficult. Terrifying. But with all the accomplishments under your belt?

It was time to reunite with him.

“Your family and siblings are your friends.” added Ray. “We don’t want a future where you end up suffering no matter what the result is. And you? What do you want? What do you want to do, Norman?”

He pulled away and the warmth left your hands. “No, it’s no good.” he stated. “You’re already too late. I’m...I’m in a place where I just can’t go back. You can’t walk alongside me--”

“We know.” you interjected. Emma nodded. “About the poison, Mujika and Sonju...”

“And the experiment in the basement.” added Ray. A hopeful smile inched itself onto your lips. “See? We’re not too late. It’s okay to be vulnerable. If you’re the real Norman, then let’s lose our way together. Let’s struggle too, and laugh.” You held out a hand and Emma and Ray joined you.

“Let’s live together.”

Norman didn’t struggle to keep his cool. You re-called the look in his eyes, the same one you saw that night he was told his shipment date. He cried, not just because he chose to get shipped out, but because he was scared. For you. For himself. For his family.

That stifling look of serenity washed off his face. His lips trembled, his shoulders shook, and his eyes watered. You all wrapped each other in a tight embrace. No one deserved to face all the ages of time on their own, no matter what it was, and more than anything, you’d do that for him.

“But...” Norman’s voice trembled. “It’s too late. It's pointless because of the drugs we were forced to take. We don’t have much longer left to live--we can’t live on.” He collapsed to his knees in a heap. “Help me... (Y/n), Emma, Ray... Please...”

That was when all the puzzles finally fit. After laying in wonder for so long with thoughts that kept you awake until the sun rose, you understood. The hesitance in his walk. The way he tried to hide his sluggish step. The way he acted like he was running out of time.

“You’re dying.” The words left your lips before you could even stop them. “It’s...the drugs from Lambda, right?” Norman tried to suppress a sob, but it came out in a way that sounded like he was chocking on his own lies and tears. You took a knee, gently placing a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Norman.”

He couldn’t stand the soft look in your eyes, or the tone in your voice that was like a warm summer breeze. You should have yelled at him. Should have stamped your foot against the ground and growled and slapped him. Yet you knelt in front of him, caressing his dampened cheeks with a touch that said it would all be okay.

Norman wouldn’t look at you--no--he refused to because he was just as you said: a liar. Why were you so kind to him when all he did was lie? He said he’d let you go to the Seven Walls. He said he’d wait for you. He said he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d live, laugh and do everything to be there with you, for you.

Norman wondered what a murderer like him ever did to deserve you.

-----

The grass crunched under your feet. Towards the brick walls you walked, following the sun as it lowered deeper and deeper towards the ground. You had to keep reaching for it. You had to see it.

In times of trouble, it was your beacon of hope, the last bit of your old life you were sure you could recall. No matter where you were, it was always the first thing you followed. Towards the light. Towards that ray of hope.

You came to a stop at the edge of the school grounds, right where the gates separated you from the outside world bustling with life. The occasional car zoomed through the streets, interrupting the quiet air with its incessant honking and screeching.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, bathing the skies in navy blue and purple.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was light, warm, polite.

“You should really hurry home. It’s not safe out here at this time, especially since we’re students.”

You stuffed your cold hands in your pockets. “I really appreciate your concern,” --you turned to face him-- “but I’m fine. Thank you.”

A boy with light hair and kind eyes met your gaze. Something about him reminded you of something--no--someone. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the boy did. He’d never forget you, no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

“(Y/n)?” He was breathless, frozen in time as you awkwardly knitted your brows together. (Y/n) wasn’t your name. It was Letha, the name Gramps gave to you because you couldn’t remember your own.

Your confused frown made the boy’s eyes well with tears. You stared, watching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a pained sob. He was a student here just like you, sporting the traditional sweater vest, white button-up with a tie, and black slacks to match. You’ve never seen him before, yet he looked so...familiar.

Gosh, why couldn’t you remember?

“It’s been over a year and,” he chocked, “I’ve looked everywhere. How could you--how could you do all that for us? You promised we’d live together, but you reforged the Promise and--and...”

The boy's knees wobbled, and out of instinct, you threw out your arms. He fell into you, right at the crook of your neck. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his tears must have been frozen by now. It was cold out here.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was small, fearful almost. It made the boy cry harder. “I don’t know you, but why don’t we go inside? There should be a cafe down there, and they’re open late, so...”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused.

“I’m so sorry.” he echoed. “I wish I was there. I wish--I wish it were me--but instead...”

You patted his back as if you’d known him for a lifetime. Maybe you felt bad and that was why you hadn’t shoved him off, or maybe, it was because having him in your arms felt so right. Familiar in a way you couldn’t put into words.

Your gentle touch made the boy’s sobs relapse. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle like you’d run away. Like you’d disappear. There was something so nostalgic about this hug and the way you both had your arms around each other.

It had happened before.

“The Promise,” the boy muttered, “you made it in exchange for--”

------

Bright, blue sky stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, and oddly calm. Perhaps a little too calm. After running through a maze of illusions and riddles you struggled to solve, you arrived in this place. Alone. The ground was like water, and with each step you took, it rippled and fanned out.

Someone sat in the middle of this endless sky and water, hovering over it serenely.

“What is it you seek?” the demon inquired. You stepped forward. “I want to reforge the Promise.” The demon’s single eye gazed straight through you, as if you were nothing more than a sheet of paper held to the light. “Sure, (Y/n).”

You pursed your lips together. He was unnervingly calm, child-like even, and you had a feeling it had to do with his ‘reward’ after the promise.

“So what is it you seek?” questioned the demon. “You must give me a reward as well.”

Yes, that was the catch. But what could it be? This demon was a being higher than anyone in the land, a god that once split the world in two. He transcended time, yet remained relatively simple-minded and difficult to read.

“The reward,” the demon fiddled with an orb in his hands, “hmmm... It would have to be something important. Ambition. Desire. What someone longs for. What I would want is something important to the other party. Will you make a wish despite that?”

This was for more than your family and Norman. You had people relying on this one choice, this one Promise.

“Yes, I will make a wish despite that.”

It all meant more than the world to you. You had to liberate your family, the children who were raised like livestock and mass-produced like wild animals. And the mamas who fought to survive--you had to think about them too.

“I wish for all the cattle children to cross over...”

They didn’t choose that life of suffering. None of you did.

“And after that, for it to be completely impossible to pass between the two worlds.”

The demon continued to stare. You stood strong and proud with the weight of all humans in this Neverland on your shoulders. If he granted your wish, then the tide would turn and you’d be able to save everyone and everything.

“I will grant that wish,” he said. “And the reward I want are your---”

----

“Memories?” The words fell from your lips in a hasty breath. More than anything, you valued finding them. It was the only missing piece in your heart. The last portion of the unsolved mystery.

This boy--whoever he was--talked about you like he knew you. Held you like you meant something. Said that name, (Y/n), like it were his life line. He pulled away with a sniffle, settling his hands on your shoulders with a loving touch.

“You don’t remember me.” He lifted a hand and raised it to place on your cheek. But he couldn’t touch you like he used to. Not when you looked at him like he was far away and out of your reach.

“You don’t remember me.” the boy quietly repeated. He began to pull away, but you grasped his hand in yours. It was warm, soft. “No, I...I’ve seen you before.” There was a pained look on the boy’s face, as if he thought you were lying to him.

“Haven’t we been through this before (Y/n)?”

No, said your mind. Yes, said your heart.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself.”

Your grip tightened around his hand, but not enough to hurt him. “I...I do know you. You’re...” You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. But you did know this boy, and all this time, you yearned to see him.

Remember.

Who was he to you?

Who were you to him?

Remember.

Remember!

“I can’t remember your name,” your eyes welled up with cold tears, “but I know I’ve missed you all this time.” You pulled his hand to your cheek as he brought you close. The scent of parchment, aged books, and the woods. Yes, that was nostalgic, so much that it felt right. The final piece, fragmented and broken, began connecting again. It brought the dots and the gaps you tried so hard to fill together.

But something else was still missing.

The boy pulled your head to the crook of his neck and rocked you from side to side in the moonlight. Even the hazy streetlights were drowned out by the stars. You liked to think it was because this part of the city was quiet, isolated, from the rest of the world. And the rest of your worries.

“Norman.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“My name is Norman.”

“And mine is...(Y/n)?”

“Yes,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “I think the day I fell in love with you was when you got excited about something Ray told you. Ray is our family if you’re wondering, and so is Emma, and Gilda, Don...” He told you about people you once knew, and the life you once lived. Some parts he left out, and others he kept.

But you wouldn’t have known. Not when your memory laid in fragments.

“...And so we looked for you. I didn’t think you’d be here, but I’m glad you were.” He laid his chin on the top of your head. “You used to joke that I’d never be taller than you, but now I am.” A sad chuckle left his lips. “I wish things could be different and that you--”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of red hair. Your head began to pound and you nuzzled closer into Norman.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.”

He ran a hand through your locks, arms folded close around you as he hummed a sweet tune. It was sad, melancholy, and the only one you’d ever known your whole life. “I know that song.” you mumbled. Norman smiled softly. “Mama used to sing it to us all the time. When Ray had nightmares, she put him to sleep with this song.”

The pounding in your head increased and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I did too. I sang...to you.” Norman’s lips parted, but he settled on a nod and smiled instead. “You remember?”

“I think so.” The memory was hazy, as if someone were trying to make you forget for good. But you fought that urge, held on to the image of a room with white sheets and bed lined up side by side. “You were...talking to me...about a...I don’t know...”

“Go on.”

“You were crying late at night...so I...I sang to you.”

Norman kissed the top of your head. When he was in Lambda, locking in that room all alone running through test after test, he held fast to that memory. It kept him from giving up on what he fought for, and kicking the bucket for good.

“I missed you so much.” he wistfully whispered. “You can’t leave me again, or else you’ll break my heart for good.” You looked up to meet his watery eyes. “Why would I leave?” Norman shook his head. “It was in the Promise, wasn’t it? You can’t break it.”

The pounding began to fade. You tiredly smiled, but it was warm and thankful and happy. “That won’t stop me, Norman. I don’t think I could live without you.” He warmly chuckled, intertwining his hands with yours. “Me too.”

And it was then that you began to feel a little more complete, a little more you from then. You were sure you wouldn’t have to dream another little dream of your wodeerful Norman any longer, for he would be right by your side, where you both belonged.

You released his hands and cupped his cheek. It was a natural act you didn’t even have to think twice about. When you were you, you had done this more than a thousand times. Your lips connected in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and tea rolled into one, and you had a feeling it was because he couldn’t choose which was better.

“I love you.” you said. He warmly smiled, but underneath, it was almost sly. “I love you too. Why don’t we do some catching up?”

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Thank you to those who stayed this long, I love you all SOOOOO MUCH!

#tpn emma #tpn norman x reader #tpn norman #tpn manga #tpn ray #emma the promised neverland #ray the promised neverland #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland #ynn #ynn ray #ynn norman #ynn emma #anime x reader #anime

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iotona · 3 years

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Love

Hey again, I wrote something! And don’t ask why I keep coming up with ideas that include pets bc idk either. It’s Arthur x reader, 1500+ words, and fluff/romance? You won’t cry that’s all I know, I think? Thanks for giving it a look!

Love; a word that Arthur had almost forgotten. A one syllable sound that warmed the hearts of many and for others, indescribable pain. Long were the nights Arthur spent at the pub, downing as much alcohol as his body would allow, and entertaining any pretty skirt that so much as flashed him a darling smile. If he wasn’t out on the streets, then he would recluse to his room at the mansion living off of only bitter coffee and the sting in his back that reminded him of all the guilt and shame he carried over the years.

Recently, Arthur tossed in bed for entirely different reasons, obsessing over the tingling in his belly every time he thought of you. When you walked through the door, love came with. It certainly didn’t make itself prevalent right away, oh no. He didn’t feel it when he had the privilege of meeting you, and he surely didn’t see it when he tried to scare you off. But a slow burning feeling that first took his heart by surprise when you had flashed him a smile. It was a small grin like any other pretty lady he took to bed, why would this be any different? Maybe it was the context of his joke, maybe it was the dim lighting of the mansion at night, or the smell of the food you made just for him after his days of writing in solitude. Arthur couldn’t put his finger on why his chest suddenly felt lukewarm and his stomach tingled, nor did he really try, but soon found himself finding love everywhere he went.

Affection oozed out of every cup of coffee you brought him, seeped into the smell of his clothes that you left folded on his bed, and blinded him with every outburst of laughter you blessed him after each cheeky jest. Time spent in his room became less with each day, the dark demons of his past quickly suppressing under the weight of his newfound feelings. Chasing this high, Arthur spent endless nights awake in bed rethinking every interaction between you two. He often planned his days to conveniently intercept yours and you gladly obliged to have his company. And when you agreed to be his little assistant in your free time, ohh did his heart do a million flips.

Arthur’s interest in you soon became adoration. Reverence ruled his thoughts when he watched you work. Your intelligence to solve puzzles, your empathy to communicate and relate, your drive, persistence, your intuition to know what was fishy and what was not impressed him. With all his playfulness, some days Arthur wasn’t sure he’d get through a case without your point of view, but he’d never tell you that. In fact, the one instance you made a small comment about the look of frustration on his brow, he fixed himself with a handsome smile and teased about something or another to deter your focus.

Eventually, your own fondness began to show. Small blushes at Arthur’s praises and nicknames. The way you leaned into even the smallest of touches. How you went out of your way to ensure Arthur had hot coffee and a fresh snack while he wrote. Lending an ear to his stories and giving ample feedback.

Arthur was positive this couldn’t last forever, nothing good and pure ever does. So when the darkness latched onto his legs and held him there, he was sure you wouldn’t come calling, even as it enveloped him once again. He no longer made an effort to leave his room, to eat, to drink, to socialize, or to find you, the precious woman from the future. He was confident that was it, you’d return to through the door soon and he would continue the torturous life he was meant to endure.

Little did the sad man sitting on his overly worn writing chair realize how stubborn you actually were. He had underestimated you, entirely, until the day you came knocking his door down. It was sudden, he didn’t have an ounce of mental energy to understand the earful you were giving him over his astonishment. Something about how cold his coffee must be, and how he couldn’t possibly feel any better in a room so dark. You threw open his curtains and glared at him with a look that had him ashamed and shaking in his Oxford’s simultaneously. And very much like a lost puppy, Arthur agreed to accompany you to the town for bread, something so simple yet so domestic. You swore his wide bewildered eyes never left you that day and ever since then you constantly use that ammunition to your own device.

Then you did something so beyond his comprehension that even now, as he sits in the parlor of the mansion playing a game of chess with Theo, his mind keeps wandering to the night before instead of the bet that lay before him. Like many times before you had accompanied Arthur and Theo to the pub. The night was full of laughs and jokes, drinks to go around, as was per usual. You thought your heart would explode when Arthur suggested a dance and without waiting for your response, tugging on your hand. The music was upbeat, jovial and one too many spins mixed with liquor had you melting into his form when he pulled you close for a slow careen back and forth. You thought, in your inebriated state, how your legs would have probably given out if it wasn’t for Arthur’s hold on your waist and the other holding your hand close to his heart. Buzzing with not only drink but by how captivated you were with the man standing in front of you, you giggled and babbled about how his nose tickled you from brushing so close to your ear. You were so tipsy that when Arthur looked at you with a faint blush and the intent to apologize that you rose to your tip toes and pulled on the lapels of his jacket into a sweet kiss. A kiss that didn’t last long, but enough to deepen the red on his cheeks when you finally pulled away. The rest of the night muddled together, and you hadn’t seen each other since retiring to bed for the night.

Arthur wasn’t afraid of what lay before him now, but his anxiety was evident by the way he bounced his leg up and down during the match, eyebrows furrowed in thought, and eyes boring into the table. Theo thought maybe it was due to the way he was severely losing this game, but when did Arthur ever lose? That itself was incredibly strange, but Theo being the man to not pry did not ask. And thus they continued moving the pieces until Arthur’s inevitable loss.

Again the tiny statues were placed on small white and black squares, to their start. A pawn here, a knight there, Arthur’s gaze was caught by the flash of a bright green skirt out the nearby window. Abruptly standing up, he was completely enamored by the sight before him. Fresh, white, sparkling snow lazily fluttered through the air, remnants of this morning’s storm, adorning every surface outside. The serene and peaceful scene contrasted the way you were running through the mansion’s lower cut bushes and abruptly crouching behind one. If it wasn’t for the spirited look in your face as you peaked around the corner he would’ve thought you were in danger. But who exactly were you running from? Arthur received his answer when two furry four legged dogs came barreling around one side of the building and stopping to smell the air.

Vic was the first to get a scent, and most importantly following your footsteps in the snow. You realized your failure in not being able to cover your tracks and slowly crouched behind another layer of bushes in hopes to throw off the pooch. The crunch of your boots over the fresh snow alerted the bi-colored dog, his small legs immediately running in the direction of the noise, tongue out and ears flapping in joy of the game, just like a certain owner. In an attempt to flee you stood to try and run back, only to find a yellow haired lab blocking your path, foiling your plans. Accepting defeat as both animals ran towards you in glee, you dropped to your knees to deliver many pets and kisses. Little did you know the amount of force King accumulated running towards you, he tried to stop but slipping across the fresh snow until his body collided with yours. If you had learned anything from Isaac’s Laws of Physics it was that a large dog using you as a cement block was not going to end well. You both tumbled into the white fluff, each dog wasting no time in pressing their little wet noses onto your face and neck. The sniffling and small licks had you elated, tickling your sensitive skin, and filling the air with your loud shrieks and giggles.

“Oi, are you going to take your turn?” A particularly annoyed voice sounded from behind Arthur, to which he could only hum in response, give a smooth smile, and hustle out the door to you.

Arthur knew then that any trace of doubt slowly dissolved. He was utterly, completely, and wholly infatuated with you. Every fiber, every bone, every time his heart beat, it was all vibrating with yearning for you. He finally knew and understood the meaning of love. All from you.

If you made it this far, thank you! Feedback is always welcome. :)

tagging: @kisara-16 (thank you for proof reading <3), @nad-zeta

#arthur x reader #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikemen arthur

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exhausted-joy · 4 years

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INTO THE WOODS [YANDERE!JIMIN] [05]

SYNOPSIS: Park Jimin is your needy, clingy, summer camp cabinmate that both creeps you out and makes you regret ever trying to be socially engaged during your summer break. After submitting truckloads of request forms to switch cabins and getting rejected, you realize that you must swallow your pride and get comfy with your new cabinmate. He hates it and so do you—at least, that’s what you thought.

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NOTE: WOW look who’s made an appearance!! so here i am w/ an update after... what? ten thousand years? not sure if anyone even remembers this fic haha! thanks to my co-writer, luciole (on quotev), this chapter was able to get finished after sitting on one scene for the longest. thank you for waiting and hopefully i can get back into the groove of writing asap! <3

━━━━━━━━━

You want to enjoy your trek back to camp. You really do. But it's incredibly hard to do so when your chronically antisocial cabinmate won't respond to a single word you say.

Each joke you crack is swallowed whole by the silence that follows, and every comment you make on your unfortunate surroundings falls on deaf ears. Perhaps you just weren't funny or you were being annoying, but that couldn't possibly be the case. You would be more inclined to believe that Jimin suddenly converted back into a mute, but you certainly wouldn't buy the Hellen Keller act anytime soon.

Despite his clear avoidance, the silences between you two are no longer awkward - for you, at least. When he doesn't laugh at a joke of yours, you don't feel the intense sear of embarrassment raising the hairs on your skin but, instead, there's a comfortable silence.

You'd like to believe that maybe he's not so much of a verbal laugh kind of guy, he just prefers to keep it all in. It's an unintelligible assumption, but it helps somewhat soothe your irrational fears of Jimin growing a sudden hatred for you.

"Hey, Jimin," you call from behind him, having lagged a few paces back due to his somehow inexhaustible stamina that keeps him in the lead pretty much at all times. "Can we please take a break? I think my lungs are about to collapse."

The boy halts in his steps and looks back to give you a single nod, his face stoic and unreadable. You shift uneasily and avoid eye contact, suddenly unnerved by his change in personality, though not surprised. You spot a large log covered in a thick layer of moss a few feet away and make your way over to sit on it.

Plopping down, you think back to anything you may have said that could have offended him in some way. Was it the joke you made about how big his hoodie was on you? Perhaps he had thought you were calling him fat? You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, if that's the case.

You thought you were making some progress with him, but it looks like you are back at square one again. It's discouraging, yet you aren't quite sure why.

Did you really want to be his friend? Or were you only bearing the weight of his strange tendencies because, in retrospect, you literally had no other choice?

You glance at Jimin, watching as he coolly rests against a tree turned away from you, his dark hair falling into his eyes. You just can't seem to figure him out; one moment he's the one initiating conversation and the next he's pulling back as if he's been burned. You wish you had some kind of sixth sense to help you understand the burdened inner workings that make Park Jimin, but you unfortunately don't.

And you're honestly too much of a coward to ask him if everything's alright, so maybe it's best if you just give him some space. He can't ignore you forever - you live in the same cabin after all, and a pretty small one at that. He would have to talk to you sooner or later. Right?

You sigh, shaking the intrusive thoughts from your mind. There is no use in mulling over something you can't control; if Jimin wants to indulge in his bouts of teenage angst, then so be it. You take a moment to recollect yourself and catch your breath, taking the chance to tentatively attempt at tidying up the bird's nest of hair that sits tangled atop your head.

But the bird's nest seems determined to stay until you get hold of a hairbrush, which, considering your current situation, could still be quite some time away. Getting up in favor of leaning against a tree yourself, you absentmindedly mirror Jimin's stance as you watch him from the corner of your eye. Nope, still not one sign of social capability.

This time your sigh is louder. Loud enough for him to hear and, low and behold, he turns his head in your direction to look at you. At this point, his constant changes in behavior from open to antisocial to intrigued are starting to get on your nerves, and you decide to show it.

Narrowing your eyes enough for him to notice, you turn away to stare at a tree in front of you which looks exactly like all the other hundreds of trees surrounding you.

Stunning, you think ironically. Like I haven't seen enough chunks of nature in the last twenty four hours.

Suddenly, a prickly feeling creeps up your spine. You're familiar enough with it by now - he's looking at you. Staring, more accurately, so intensely you can feel goosebumps welting up the skin of your arms despite the soft fabric of the hoodie that shields you from the cold morning air. But you don't turn around, you don't bother at this point.

Jimin musters you from his peripheral vision. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended you somehow? A million questions of the like course through his head all at once.

Even though he hasn't been able to come up with an appropriate topic for a new conversation after awkwardly ending your last one, he feels somewhat wronged by your behaviour. It's not his fault he was too shy to just start babbling about, even if that's what you might want.

He can feel a familiar heat crawl up his neck, whether from shame, embarrassment or anger - he can't tell. Jimin wants to talk to you. So what's stopping him? His fear of abandonment? His innate ability to drive away those he loves? The possibilities spin through his mind, fueling the insecurities that burn fiercely within.

Whatever it is, the answer to his questions are not yet transparent, and he refuses to bend backwards to figure it out. In the end, this struggle would all be for nothing; you are a temporary piece on this board of chess, a queen who will fall if he gets any closer. When camp ends, so will whatever this is. It happens, it's life. Right?

And in that case, is this the reason why Jimin is currently making his way over to you, palms clammy as he wracks his mind for a conversation starter, for something, anything to say?

You raise an eyebrow when you see the boy approaching you. Oh, he finally wants to talk now? You scoff but hold back on a clipped comment, knowing how sensitive Jimin can sometimes get. You don't exactly know him that well yet either, though you honestly wouldn't put it past him to spring a knife on you if you say something that doesn't sit well with him.

"Yes?" You question as your roommate halts in your wake, his eyes gleaming unsurely in the midst of the early morning sunlight.

He peers at you, seemingly conflicted. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again like a fish. The cycle continues a couple times before you begin to find it humorous. You hold it in though, for his sake, and gesture for him to just spit it out already.

"...Are you mad at me?"

The question stikes you silly, and you are hardly able resist the urge to actually burst out laughing. So it has been a misunderstanding. Here you are, pondering over the trillions of possibilities as to why this boy could be mad at you, yet him thinking you are mad at him not being a single one.

Still, you are incredulous at this revelation, and you do your best to express it in the most unassuming way possible.

"Me? I thought you were mad at me!" You cry, eyes almost bugging out of your skull with vexation. Jimin tilts his head, slightly furrowing his eyebrows in perplexion.

The way his hair moves across his forehead as he tilts his head makes your heart flip, but you push the feeling away. It must be low blood pressure from your lack of proper meals the past day and night. Looking at the shifts in Jimin's expressions, it seems a lightbulb has flickered to life with the way his eyes glaze over in realization.

"Ah, I see.." He breathes, almost in relief, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. Your eyes widen for a millisecond at the unusual display of emotion, but then he shocks you even further when takes two large steps towards you. Now he's suddenly right in front of you, impossibly close with you craning your head back to look up at him.

"..Uh..?" You whisper in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows as his hands slowly rise up to your face.

In a flash, Jimin grabs the drawstrings of the hoodie and quickly pulls, scrunching up the hood and masking your face from view like you had done earlier at the campsite.

"J-Jimin?!" You squeak as you hear the pounding of footsteps and a quiet chuckle that reminds you of a chuffing tiger.

Astounded, you struggle to pull the hood from your face. When you do, the only thing you see is a glimpse of Jimin's white shirt before he disappears behind a tangle of large branches. A twinge of fear pulls at your gut and you take off after him, afraid that you might lose him in the thicket of eternal tree trunks.

It doesn't occur to you that the usually stoic boy just showed you his way of having fun. Of joking around, of horse play. Why exactly was it so strange to you? Shouldn't you be happy that he's acting like this so openly? You aren't sure how you're supposed to feel but, for now, you can only think about how worried you've become at this sudden surfacing of positive growth.

Was he perhaps.. warming up to you? It's a thought so obscure that you almost laugh out loud at yourself but as you catch up to Jimin moments later, you are almost rendered speechless at the sight of him smiling.

It's a genuine, toothy smile that reaches his sparkling eyes and you're shocked to see the sight of his pearly whites. But as quickly as it comes, it goes, wiped from his face in seconds as he turns away to face a dirt path that leads through a somewhat familiar scene with trees, trees, more trees and-

Was that.. smoke? It billows through the tops of the trees, its fading grey fingers curling up into the morning sky. You've half a mind to jump up and scream with joy. A campfire! And from the looks of it, a big one. Of course, one can never be entirely sure that said smoke doesn't come from illegal and possibly murderous poachers camping nearby, but the chance is considerably slim.

Jimin feels himself tensing up beside you. So this is it, huh? His blissfully isolated alone-time with you was finally coming to an end. Disappointment curls in his stomach; things would go back to how they used to be, wouldn't they? He almost wants to pick you up and carry you back through the trees and into the small clearing where you'd spent the night. Where he'd made some of the happiest memories in a long time.

Of course, semi-kidnapping you back into the forest was out of the question. The last thing he wants is for you to hate him, avoid him like the plague, to shun him too just like the others-

You suddenly grab his hand without a warning, immediately stopping his train of thought- and if he isn't mistaken, there's a tiny blush on your cheeks. His heart skips at least three beats, the way your slender fingers curl around his bigger hand making his insides feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy.

The smile you shoot him is dazzling as you practically drag him by his hand towards what is, hopefully, camp. Running after you, he hesitantly entwines his fingers with yours, too.

—

Who knew isolation could be so blissful. After having been swarmed by fellow campers with a hurricane of concern, curiosity, and wonder how you hadn't been eaten alive by a cave bear, the camp supervisors had mercifully decided to send you and your socially inept partner to your cabin to relax. Formalities and questions would be dealt with tomorrow.

You take one long lazy look around your temporary living space. Sleep looks irresistible, almost delectable right about now. You let out a lengthy yawn as you plop down on your bed, all the drained energy and missing sleep from your little expedition suddenly hitting you like a brick.

Jimin, at the other end of your shared room, seems in a rather similar state to you, oddly enough. You can't recall him ever even so much as expressing the need to sleep- no yawning, no eye rubbing, nothing. Maybe some good old fresh air wore down his vampiric tendencies a bit. Your roommate has already silently shuffled into his own bed, albeit horizontally, although that didn't seem to bother him at all.

As much as you would like falling asleep on the spot, diving in the peaceful silence between you and Jimin, the way the bends of your arms and the hairs in your neck stick together tells you that you need a shower, desperately.

Already kicking off your shoes, you do your best not to fall asleep on your feet walking towards the small bathroom, having just enough presence of mind left to grab a pair of clean pyjamas before entering. Once inside, you basically rip off your sweaty clothes and toss them Kobe-style into a hamper nearby.

The cold water hitting your skin feels like bliss after a while of overheating. When you emerge, you can feel more like an actual human being rather than a caveman with the bodily hygiene of an ape. You get dressed and leave the bathroom with a sigh and a tired, relieved smile on your lips.

Jimin props himself up on his elbows, his gaze lingering on you a lot longer than necessary. You might not be aware, but he notices right away; above your cozy pyjamas, you've automatically thrown on something else - his hoodie. His hoodie. That strange sensation he always seems to get when he sees you drowning in his jacket creeps up his throat again to grasp him in a chokehold.

You take notice of Jimin's fall-back into staring out of the corner of your eye, but it bothers you strangely little. It would appear that, while mostly being incredibly, cripplingly awkward, being lost in the woods with your cabin mate had somehow brought you closer in a mutual, silent way. Maybe a peaceful co-existence is possible for the two of you after all.

With shallow motions you crawl under your blanket, turning so you face Jimin's side of the room. With your last bit of conscience, you shoot your groggy cabin mate an exhausted, yet earnest smile. And before you're out like a light, you can still see him inconspicuously reciprocate your action, all while gazing intently as if you might disappear if he so much as glances away.

His smile... your mind slips into a state of comatose, your heavy eyelids finally closing as your train of thought drifts into dreamland. The dark haired boy listens as your breaths grow heavy, watching as your body relaxes beneath the sheets. His eyes flicker around the room, his face subsequently heating up.

Her smile is really nice. Jimin thinks bashfully as he settles into bed, facing away from you, and quickly pulling his blanket over his head. Just a simple thought, but if only you could see the grin on his face right now.

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#yandere bts #yandere jimin #bts x reader #yandere x reader

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: En Prise (2/18)

Summary:

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1

Notes: Netflix has this new show out called “Queen’s Gambit” which makes chess look like I pretty good driver for a story. Attack on Titan has its fair amount of chess motifs as well and that’s when I knew a Chess AU has to exist somewhere in the fandom. With that, Levihan AU came into existence.

Hange found herself going on walks at the same time everyday when the air was a little cooler, the sunlight a little dimmer. She followed the same route she made on her first day. She never did enter the bar though, slightly conscious of the fact that she would be obligated to buy something if she did and at that point, she had no money to spare.

She settled for looking through the window as she walked, disappointed every time to find the same disappointing scene of empty chairs and an empty table on that one corner.

The first few days, she had attributed it to life. Maybe his day job just gets busy. No one can earn just playing chess.

A few days went by though, then the weekend, and he never did come back. Maybe he wasn’t a regular hustler? Maybe he was a dream? Hange quickly abandoned that last thought, her empty wallet attested to the existence of that boy.

She decided that the night before classes would be her deadline. That late afternoon, she allowed herself one long look at the window, long enough at least for the owner to come out.

"May I help you?"

"The chess player who sat at the table on the corner…" Hange did not have to say too much else.

"Ahh you’re talking about Levi. Sadly I can't say when he'd be back. He usually only comes back at the most once a month to play."

"So he's been doing this for a while?"

"Since he was much younger.” The man answered. He turned to Hange and sighed. “Look, He's a good kid. He pays for food and compensates any damages."

But he hustled me. Hange sensed the contempt she kept in her tone, as she asked the first few questions. He must have noticed it as well. It was apparent in the man's tone that he at least had some emotional attachment to the young boy.

"So this Levi guy… Would you know where I can find him?"

The owner shrugged. "Never told me. The kid doesn’t talk much."

He talks enough to hustle at least. Hange thought to herself. She could not help but remember that he had talked a fair amount for her to at least have been surprised at the bar owner’s comment. It was a particularly glaring fact since chess was a game which is supposed to be played in silence.

"Thank you. Will check back again next time then." Hänge was quick to turn around as she felt a wave of disappointment. She had no idea what type of face she was making at that moment but she bent her head down just in case.

"Do you really need the money?”

Hange looked back at the owner, the loss of her money once again painful.. “Excuse me?”

“The money he hustled from you, I mean.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Will you starve without the money?”

“No.”

“Then give the boy a break. That boy has gone to my bar long enough, something tells me that the games are all he has.”

En Prise

School was a good distraction.

The fact that chess was a part of her curriculum was the only thing that made it difficult for her to completely forget the man who had welcomed her her first night. One relieving yet somehow disappointing thing to note was her professor in PE seemed more interested in making them read up on openings and present them on screen.

Zoe, you'll be assigned the Pirc Modern.

She had expected at first to be playing and maybe reliving the frustration of losing again and again in blatantly winning positions. Studying opening theory turned out to be a respite for Hange and she found herself treating the game like any other subject.

Every night, she prepared for her lectures in chemistry, then biology, then statistics, always ending her days by opening an online chess database and replaying games on the modern opening.

Her days in her chess class would start with quizzes to identify common formations. Hange was surprised to find that most of them had names.

Every time they called out the openings and presented them on the board, Hange was brought back to the large shelf in the bookstore, with what could have been a hundred books about chess. As the students read out of index cards explaining the theories behind the first opening moves, Hange was made aware of the thousands of possibilities just by the first five moves.

Of course they would have books about these.

The first pawn moves. Where they place the knight. Where they place their bishops. Where they castle.

Every decision, every move mattered. Somehow, chess was starting to make her as excited as biology and chemistry did for so long.

The Pirc Modern opening is an opening for black as a reply to the king's pawn opening for white. It is characterized by an opening reply where black plays the pawn in front of their own queen one step forward, with plans of casting king's side with a fianchettoed bishop for added protection.

When she researched her own opening and saw it played out on the board, she could not help but think that that was one of the openings Levi had played against her that night. The thirst for some sort of conclusion at having lost so miserably to that particular opening she had to study came over her and she approached it like an opponent.

It was a relatively straight forward opening. All the first ten moves were booklines and even if white did change the move order, the game usually ended up with the same position. When Hange had played it herself, she had gone through what she had deemed most logical and had gone for the center early on. Her research introduced the possibility of something more aggressive, an idea to close the center, castle queenside with an idea of a pawn storm towards the king.

That was the idea she introduced during her own presentation.

"That's a great idea Zoe. May I remind you though that you only needed to discuss the first ten moves and the resulting position."

Hange looked up at the board she flashed on the screen, only to realize then that she had presented thirty moves all leading up to the rook exchange sacrifice on the h file and the inevitable mate.

"Oh really?" Hänge looked back at her classmates to see that most, if not everyone were all focused elsewhere, the most attentive being those staring blankly at the screen. "Thank you for listening then."

Hange packed up her laptop and made her way to her place at the side of the room.

"It looks like everyone has already presented their openings. Since we don't have much time anymore, just prepare for next week. We'll be playing actual games then."

"Nice one Zoe. At least we don't have to actually play yet."

Hange was packing her bag when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked back to see that the student had already passed her through the crowd of students. It was nothing new. Most students were usually in a hurry to get out since the physical education department where they had classes was a good ten minute walk away from most other classrooms.

Other students with no classes right after, probably just preferred not to be there and it was obvious. It was one of the easier classes which did not require much physical work nor did it require the difficult choice of whether to take a shower after class or be sweaty and stinky the whole day.

The opening presentations proved to be a pleasant surprise for most people as it turned out that most students did not have to actually think beyond making a presentation and reading off index cards to actually pass the class. It had been at least a month since the start of classes and even she had forgotten for a second that chess was mainly a game of war and not just a subject for research and analysis.

Hange guessed that most of the students at the most would play the openings they had to present about. Just in case, she prepared.

On the nights leading up to her next class, she had started to memorize the most common replies to each possible opening.

Those nights, she actually dreamt of the characteristic checkered board.

En Prise

"Zoe. I want to introduce you to someone."

In the midst of the bustle as students were assigned partners to play with, Hange was surprised and utterly confused to find that her name had not been on the list passed around. She had not completely processed the unexpected turn of events when her professor approached her about it. "Yes sir?"

"This is Moblit Berner. He'll be playing you today."

Hange looked up to see her professor and behind him, someone who looked to be a fellow student. Oddly enough, he was not among the faces Hange had gotten used to the past month she had been attending chess classes.

Chess is chess. Hange did not think too much of it. The pit in her stomach that made itself when she could not find her name on the list, disappeared soon after she lead her to the nearest board and placed a white pawn in front of her.

"You'll be playing white.” He looked up at her.” You can call me Moblit by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Moblit started to tinker with the clock. "You've used a chess clock before I imagine."

“Actually… No.” Hange had played enough games online to know chess games were timed. That was the first time though she would be playing a timed one with someone right in front of her.

For a moment Moblit’s expression changed to that of utter surprise. “Let me set it up in front of you then.”

“We’ll be playing a rapid game. Twenty minutes with a five second increment for every move.” He positioned the clock to Hange’s left, angling it so she could watch as he scrolled through different options. “Meaning when you move, you get an extra five seconds.”

“You ready?” Moblit held out his hand for Hange to shake. That was only the second time she has ever played a live game. The last time Hange had played one was with Levi. Back then, there was no clock. Her opponent hadn’t even bothered to shake her hand. Hange found herself a little more pissed off at Levi’s audacity.

“Ready.”

Hange opened up with the king’s pawn. Moblit responded by moving his own king’s pawn one step forward.

The French Opening.

Hange had read a fair amount about it to know it was not played by aggressive players. Another familiar one opening Levi had played against her. He had quickly sacrificed a piece for a pawn though and that opening that generally transitions to peaceful middle game, quickly transitioned to an aggressive attack for Levi.

Moblit played by the book lines of the Tarrasch opening. Hange was aware of the quick mating attacks that could follow his more mild approach towards the position.

He castled kingside and Hange only had to look at her five miserable loses to Levi to see the potential for a mating attack. A few moves into the start of the middle when Moblit played his flank pawn forward, Hange saw an opening for a mating sacrifice.

It was like something possessed her for a split second. Hange took the pawn sticking out from the formation with her bishop. Hange only came to terms with the gravity of the sacrifice when she made eye contact with Moblit who did not look at all like he was taken by surprise at it. He took the bishop with his pawn.

Hange froze. Was it the wrong move?

It was like all the variations which Hange had thought up just a few seconds ago disappeared from her head. She was blank. She tried to push herself to think beyond that. She desperately looked up at her opponent, for inspiration, something random, unexpected to break the block that materialized in her thinking space.

Moblit’s face was unreadable. His movements were slow, careful. Although Hange recalled a slight tremble in his hands when took her bishop, with the way he looked at the board, Hange could not help but even doubt her own memory.

She looked back down at the board, trying instead to focus on what her next plan would be. Too taken aback and frustrated by her own impulsive decision though, Hange was frozen on the spot.

Her mind had become a blank slate. And that blank slate was what led to a losing end game. When the smoke had cleared, Hange was a clear two pieces down with little to no compensation.

Hange raised one out her hand in surrender. “Thank you for the game.” Hange said.

Moblit’s eyes were wide in surprise as he took Hange’s hand. “You’re resiging?”

“There’s no way I could win now.”

“The attack was amazing. To be honest, I was a few moves until mate. It looked like you just held back at that last part. If you just brought your knight into the attack. I would have had no way to defend it.”

By the time Moblit had mentioned that last part, the pieces were close to fixed and Hange could not imagine their last position for the life of her. The embarrassment and frustration at having frozen on the spot and having lost so miserably, had her wanting to forget it at that moment. In truth, she knew would have wanted to analyze it in time. The researcher inside her was scolding her for having given up a good opportunity to learn and discover.

That only left Hange more frustrated at the recent developments. Hange pushed aside her chair and grabbed her bag more roughly than she had intended. She actually felt bad for Moblit who had jumped at her movements.

She peeked at her phone. Ten minutes before class is over. “Just tell coach what happened.” Hange said as she walked out.

She had already exited the building and was already strategizing the fastest way to the library where she could prepare for her next class. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Moblit.

“What do you want?” Hange asked.

“Do you know why your professor made us play?”

“Are you his friend or something?” Hange gave Moblit a onceover. She did not recognize him as a classmate at all.

“I’m part of the chess team actually and we need to recruit an extra player so I asked your professor for help. He said you’d be the best one there. And you play pretty well, so you might be interested.”

“I’ve never played competitively in my life. You’re better off finding someone else.”

“I think you’re good.” Moblit paused for a moment. “Okay not good good, but good enough to hold your own against seasoned players at least. Just give the team a chance.”

“And how many times a week do you train?” Hange asked, an attempt at proving her inability to commit more than anything else.

“Four times a week.”

Hange thought back to the amount of classes she had, the research she wanted to undertake. “Would I even have time for this.”

“Athletes don’t have to take PE classes so that’s one class off your plate.” Moblit suggested weakly.

That proposition was far from weak in Hange’s eyes though.

En Prise

The chessroom was a small room hidden along the hallways that snaked through the sides of their basketball courts which connected the locker rooms to the stadium. For prestigious universities, with famous basketball teams that expected hoards of fans every season, the gyms were large enough to at least house those confusing mazes of hallways. In fact, Hange soon realized as she followed Moblit through the hallways that she would have never found it through directions alone. Someone really had to guide her through the first time.

From the entrance of the basketball court, the only way to get there was the narrow hallway that opened up from a doorway she could have mistaken for a janitor's closet.

To her surprise though, the narrow and dark hallways came with echoes of clicks and clacks. As she walked through, the clicks only got louder. Moblit did not look at all bothered by that sound. As Hange followed him into the room at the end of the hallway, she was quick to understand why.

The room was notably spacy when compared to the narrow hallway she had just gone through a while ago. To the corner of the room were four players, three boys and one girl, playing what looked like speed cheese. The source of the clicks, from their quick taps on the clock. The source of the clacks, the sound of pieces hitting the mat spread out on the table.

One particularly large clack rang out as one of the boys in the closer boards slammed his king on the board. "We're playing again!"

"You lost three games in a row already. Just stop trying to sacrifice pieces so recklessly. You're not Levi."

Levi…

"So this is our chessroom." Moblit said as he guided her in. "And this is our team."

That name was pushed to the back of her mind as Moblit brought her to the table to introduce her to every one of them. Their names went into one ear and out the other though, that one mention of Levi was fighting for control in her mind.

"You mentioned a Levi?"

"Why? You wanna play him?" The blonde answered, looking particularly annoyed at the mention of that name. "Why don’t you play one of us first?."

"Actually, I have no plans of playing---."

"In fact, I've been practicing Levi's opening lines---" The blonde ended up biting his tongue as the girl next to him pushed him away.

"Sorry for the rude introduction from Oluo over here. My name is Petra. " The girl said.

"She's our new recruit." Moblit answered.

"So you finally found a replacement." The blond man on the other side stood up and walked toward Hange. "Nice to meet you. Name's Eld."

"Wait what… replacement?"

"Gunther here can't play the season because of grades so we had Moblit try to find us a quick replacement. You have experience playing competitive chess?"

"Online?" Hange suggested.

"You got someone here with no experience playing competitive chess and her first day you bring her is when we have a simulation match with Levi. You might end up having to look for a new recruit after today." The man who had bitten his tongue a while ago looked like he had quickly recovered enough to at least laugh at Hange without wincing. "Have you at least prepared mentally to get your ass beaten by him?"

Levi… "I feel like I've gotten my ass beaten by this person you're talking about already." Hange replied. There were only so many Levis in the vicinity who play good chess right?

En Prise

Levi had a disinterested look about him which made Hange wonder what went through his head half the time. She could not help but note that that was probably why he played chess so well.

She could never tell if he was taken by surprise. When Levi entered the chess room and made eye contact with her, Hange had to focus most if not all her energy into placating that flash of recognition and softening that boiling feeling inside her. Was it anger? Or was it excitement?

Either way, it manifested as frustration at seeing the Levi's poker face. Did he recognize her?

“This is Hange Zoe. She’ll be joining our team from today.”

"You owe me money!" Hänge said, louder than she had intended. From her peripherals, she could see Petra jumping in surprise.

"I don't remember owing anyone any money." Levi replied, his tone as disinterested as his face.

"You hustled me." Hange accused.

"I don't hustle people." Levi said calmly.

"This guy is your teammate? This guy plays competitive chess? He hangs out in bars and hustles random people over chess games.” Hange challenged. “And you get this dirty guy to represent our school?

Petra looked uncomfortable. As Hange scanned their faces, she could see they all were looking for something else to focus on.

“Erwin asked me to play all of you today since he can’t make it to training.” Levi turned to Hange. “ WIll you be joining us today?” He had said it so politely and calmly yet had completely ignored her accusation only a second ago. That was enough to get Hange’s blood boiling.

“She’s our new recruit. I think it would be a good experience if she plays too.” It was Moblit who had answered for her.”

“Wait, play with this dirty man? He might steal my money again.” Hange protested.

Levi sighed. “Zoe, let’s make a deal then, if you beat me here, I’ll give you back the money you bet. How does 500 dollars sound?” So he did recognize her.

500 dollars. That was more than what she had lost for sure. “There must be some catch to this.”

Levi shrugged. “Just stop with these accusations so we don’t waste anymore time. Erwin’s gonna get angry if we don’t finish the game today.”

Hange could only watch as Levi and the other players pulled out a long table from the side and set up chess boards and placed the chess clocks on the table.

Hange sat next to Petra. The latter grabbed the chess clock from Hange’s left side and set it up. “55 minutes with a 10 second increment”

“Everyone has to play their best opening for white. Erwin’s orders.”

“It’s not like you’re actually gonna play a bookline anyway so what’s the point.” Oluo commented.

Everyone ignored him.

Hange watched from her seat as Levi walked through all the tables. From her place she could see that Eld had moved already. What move he was playing, she could not tell. Levi quickly replied to Eld’s first move.

Beside her, Hange could see Petra had played her queen’s pawn forward.

“You have more than enough of an advantage to beat me Zoe. I’m playing five people and you have nothing to lose.” Levi said as he arrived in front of Hange’s board. “Make your move.”

Hange pushed her king’s pawn forward.

Levi stared for a second and raised one eyebrow. A disinterested and judgemental look plastered on his face. Hange could not help but doubt her opening. Is there something wrong with e4?

Levi replied with b5, the pawn in front of his knight. Hange had never seen that in her life but what she managed to a see a few seconds later was the clear line from bishop to pawn.

She could take it and develop her bishop at the same time. She had read it before. Focus on developing pieces at the opening stages.

Was the pawn free though? One thing Hange had learned from losing to Levi multiple times though was that Levi could easily turn a piece down position into an attack for himself.

“Hurry up and move Zoe. You’re the only one still in the opening.” Hange jumped to see Levi standing in front of her.

Hange looked to her clock. 30 minutes. She’d been thinking for at least 30 minutes. Or at least trying to think. Her mind was still blank.

“Do you still want your money back?”

That was the provocation Hange needed. She took the pawn with her bishop.

Levi quickly replied by placing his bishop on the square where the pawn was only a second ago.

The clock was ticking for Hange again. Develop your pieces. Hange played Nc3, a normal developing move to defend the pawn. Levi quickly played f5. The past few moves Levi had not left her board and as Hange looked to the others, she could see they were all deep into middlegame positions.

She looked back at the position in front of her. Another free pawn.

“Don’t you have other boards to play?”

“One less board to play if I finish one now.”

Hange took the pawn on f5.

“I’ll teach you how to win a game a rook up.” It took Hange a few minutes to notice it. After Levi had moved his bishop to the take the pawn on her right wing, at the same time threatening to take the rook, he walked away, leaving Hange with the problem of how to save a trapped rook and the futile loss that came with it. It also gave Hange enough time to reflect, to ponder on the fact that Levi had alluded to one of their games only a week ago. Levi had been down a rook for most of one game yet managed to win.

Hange developed her knight in front of the king, having completely given up on defending the rook. From then on, she had focused on simple development. That was what Levi had done after all, when he was a rook down.

“You gave up pretty fast.” Levi commented only a few moves later.

“I’m still playing.” Hange said. The pieces were all set up but Levi was a clear rook up. From then on, Levi had not left her table in the simulation match. Levi’s material advantage only increasing from that point. The same pattern, it was definitely not as slow as it had been back in the bar when Hange was always a piece up. The advancement of Levi’s forces on the board were rapid

She found herself spending a few seconds looking at the board of Petra to see the material advantage was equal.

She couldn’t even do that much. Hange found herself playing faster and faster. It could have been from frustration or from the desire to have that humiliation end. Levi only entertained that in her as he matched her speed.

“It’s good manners to resign when you’re losing Zoe.”

Hange did not even have time to organize her forces. A black knight had planted itself in the middle of the board and the black queen was staring down at her uncastled white king.

Hange did not need to look up to feel it. Everyone’s eyes were on her and Hange chose to wait. Eventually, Levi walked away from the board and she could hear the clack and the click as he moved the pieces and pressed the clock. Then more footsteps then the clack and the click again.

Levi never did go back to her board. He didn’t need too. Hange only had to look at the clock next to her to know the game would be over soon.

“Resign.” It was Petra who resigned soon after her clock hit zero. Oluo resigned a few minutes after.

When Hange finally looked up, she could see Moblit, Oluo and Petra gathered around the board between Eld and Levi. Eld had his hands to his head while Levi just stood waiting, looking as disinterested and uninvested as he always did.

From her angle, she could not see what had happened on the board, but as she heard the sound of a piece slamming into the board, soon followed by Eld standing up, she knew it was over. Levi had beaten all of them in a sweep.

“It’s getting late.”

Petra and Oluo had gathered up their pieces into the middle of the chess mats while Moblit and Eld

“Just keep a record of your games. Erwin will look through them.”

“Record?” Hange only noticed then, that there papers on top of the board as well.

“I forgot to tell you... I’m sure Erwin won’t mind if you didn’t have one, it’s your first day after all.” Moblit said, his tone apologetic.

“I’ll help her replay the game. You three can go ahead.”

Soon, it was just the two of them in the room.

“Do you even know how to record games?”

“I learned in PE class but it gets confusing.”

“I’ll write it down for you to save you time.” Levi said as he set up a board in front of her. He soon replayed the game one by one, pausing to write on the board every few moves, not even bothering to ask her if he had recalled it correctly.

He had set up on the board the moment his bishop took her rook. He replayed her next move when she had developed the knight in front of her king, making sure to tap the piece multiple times on the board before writing it down. The face he made as he did that, only clued Hange in to the fact that it was probably the wrong move. “You gave up too easily.” Levi commented

“I was a rook down.”

“If we switched boards I could have won this position.” Levi said as he continued to play quickly through it. He stopped at one familiar position, having opened a clear path for the knight to plant itself on the middle of the board. “The game is already lost at this point. There’s no need to analyze it.” Levi explained. He wrote out the last few moves on the paper, not bothering to play them out.

“You didn’t need to point it out.” Hange said as she watched Levi push the pieces towards the middle of the board. “Thank you for doing it though.” The words were difficult to say. Hange only found the strength to say it as Levi returned the board to the box on the side of the room.

“It just bothers me. For someone who is so willing to play ten games in a row, you give up too easily on the board.” Levi shrugged. “At least, I got some money out of it.”

“So you admit you were hustling me.”

“You were winning in all your games. You just managed to fuck up in the middle and lost some money, that’s all there is to it.”

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange

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ae0nx · 4 years

Text

FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 7 RECAP AKA ‘TOP TIER FURUBA SHIT’

An accurate representation of me getting ready to talk about this episode.

My guys... this episode pretty much hit all the points for me in what I expect of a Fruits Basket episode... and more! I loveeee this episode. I gotta admit last week’s episode was a bit of a shoulder shrug for me cos it was mostly a set up for the beach ‘arc’ but this. episode. I have way too many screen caps, I don’t know how I’ll do this.

And we open up with a big ‘fuck no’. I love the flash forward just to prepare the audience for a whole lot of hurt. Excellent. *pours myself a glass of wine*

- Hiro: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mum, just don’t trip over, ok?” Sorry about that guys, I just found out my Mum’s pregnant Everyone: Whaaaaa?!

Hiro’s nonchalance of it all had me dying 😂

I appreciate the ‘dog’ fan. Definitely accurate in more ways than one. Strike one.

Strike TWO. The fact he said that in front of not only Tohru but KISA AND HIRO is so gross. I’m not even joking. It’s just gross. Not a great joke at all. Poo poo.

STRIKE THREE. Akito... please come get your dog. It’s the only useful thing you can do rn anyway

Wow, Yuki. I actually teared up a little at his realisation. This whole episode should just be called ‘call 999 for these kids’.

Hiro’s mum just sounds like a Furuba fan tbh 😝😂 Also... are the zodiac members born in their animal forms? Or is it just in the first instance they are held by a parent of the opposite sex? Cos if it’s the first option, that’s pretty... messed up. But, theoretically hilarious at the same time!

Ohhhh... Tohru’s one of those people who like to push aside their own problems and focus on other people’s instead... Except, it’s not in an annoying and judge-y way at all. However, I am beginning to question whether she is actually that selfless and the real root of it is that Tohru needs a distraction from her own pain. Either way, it’s sad and I don’t think she’s doing it consciously at all which makes it even sadder.

Oh, Tohru.

Also, appreciation for Momiji being a human backpack at all times. And I love his cat eared hat! I want one! Our Outfit Appreciation Winner this week. 4 stars.

- Kisa/Hiro being a mini version of Kyoru was basically confirmed this episode and I am happy.

Such a gorgeous moment. Pretty much met the feelings and emotions I got from reading this moment in the manga AND MORE. It’s golden. And I love it. ...‘nuff said.

Oh look, Dad’s here too 🤣

*looks into the distance to a far off future...* ANYWAYS

- Kyo being so open and honest and vulnerable with Tohru to a point where he mistakenly already thinks he told Tohru all about his parents already is just... everything to me. Especially from someone like Kyo who’s constantly carrying all this baggage around. But jeez, we always forget that Tohru’s got baggage she’s carrying around too! Tohru and Kyo on surface level look like such opposites in every way but remove some layers and they are so similar, it’s uncanny! 😍🤡

I just love developing relationships. 🥰

- Kyoko definitely wanted to destroy that flowerpot 😈 We love her. We miss her.

He’s so in love with her, I can’t. I’m gonna cry. <3 Also, that expression feels like a very Kazuma expression, is it just me?

*spontaneously combusts*

But anyway... just cos we can’t have anything good for too long...

Tbh if I knew a Shigure, that’d be how I’d start every conversation.

I love Hatori. :) I mean he wouldn’t actually slice his gut open but it still means a lot to me that he said he would...

This go around of Fruits Basket has made me realise how much I relate to him and his position in the family. Every anime has a character that’s in their twenties and just... tired and I always relate best to them, shoutout to Keishin Ukai from Haikyuu.

Even though I hate Akito, I have an appreciation for the subtle shit the animators/designers do whenever they come onto screen. All of Akito’s actions have a kinda feather-lightness/almost ethereal feel to them and the way Akito is contrasted against not only the scenery but the other characters around them is... so gooood. I’ve already talked about how I love the emphasis on the presence of Akito in their first appearance in the anime but... I’ll still be talking about it cos it’s great. And I can’t wait to hear Colleen Clinkenbeard in this ep, but Maaya Sakamoto was stellar in this episode (fun fact: did you know she also played Haruhi in OHSHC?!?).

But yeah, I still hate Akito. Sorry.

- Kisa’s little sigh of relief that Tohru doesn’t have to meet Akito was already HEARTBREAKING but mixed with this moment....?!?!

...

I...

I just really need someone to explain to me how you could like Akito. Even after the ending of this whole series. Like...

I just don’t get it. I don’t...

Look, I’m gonna malfunction if I don’t move on.

Oh?

This is the start... of something new... it feels so right... to be here with you...

oooohhhh 🎶

👀

- Kinda sad that Kyo and Tohru had the house to themselves but there was so much weird and bad energy in the air that they couldn’t even really enjoy their pancakes :(

- That Akito and Shigure and Hatori (and partially Kureno) scene just really... disgusted me. To see someone have that much power in their touch and their words is... freaky and unsettling. And I love it cos it’s interesting but I also hate it soooo much. I have nothing more to say about it besides that really. I was more interested in the Shigure and Hatori moment afterwards...

That’s a nice way of putting it...

Maybe this was to be taken mostly as a joke, but do you think that Shigure actually wants Hatori to remind him how much of a shitbag he’s being? Most of my problem with Shigure (and why I actually liked 2001!Shigure but let’s not go there again) is that out of everyone in this series, he’s the most untouched. And yet he schemes and manipulates and seems to get everything he wants. AND what makes it even worse and annoying and spectacular, is that Shigure’s little nudges and pushes of the chess pieces which are the zodiac members aren’t so obvious to the extent that you could only blame him for it. It’s almost genius, if it weren’t so repulsive.

*sighs* I just really want him to either repent or feel some kind of guilt afterwards.

...Hence why I’m most interested in where he’s at after the end of this all.

All I want is a scene between him and Tohru, somewhat like this:

👀

...Ok, this moment made me like Shigure just by 5% more this episode. Still trying to figure out that Shigure/Akito relationship literally a decade later tho...

BACK TO SOME KINDA HAPPY(?) STUFF!

I love love love love love this moment between Yuki and Tohru. It was gorgeous!

I wish this scene were longer so I could make an AMV (if I really felt like it) with Coldplay’s ‘A Sky Full Of Stars’. The lyrics match the moment so much and I definitely cried.

Oh, Yuki...

It was such a beautiful way to end this episode. Wow.

And Yuki’s words to Tohru that ‘she’s just like the sky’ has so many meanings to it and I want to go into it but I’ll start really explicitly going into spoilers. So, I’ll just leave it as poetic cinema.

Perfect.

God, this was such a good episode, guys! I’d probably put this episode on the same level as the True Form episode. It gave us furuba shenanigans, it gave us kyoru, it gave us disgust and hurt and it gave us a moment of someone rising out of the ashes!

I love this anime. :) See you next week!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket 2020

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autumnblogs · 3 years

Text

Day 4: You eat a weird bug and don’t even care.

Starting later than usual today because I’ve been absolutely swamped with work. Let’s get down to business to defeat the Huns.

https://homestuck.com/story/644

I’ve never really gotten why John falls asleep here. Seems an odd place to fall asleep, especially with the adrenaline rush that must have been. Maybe he’s passing out from exactly that? Alternatively, maybe Vriska is putting him to sleep.

I also forgot that John Sleeps/Skaian Magicant is split between two flashes.

https://homestuck.com/story/651

Ah here we go. John has what are, if Jade is to be believed, lousy dreams. He dreams of his Dad, of clowns, of baked goods, of Fruit Gushers, of his own symbol, the weird knock-off slimer, and Harry Anderson, before finally Jade appears.

I am not a psychologist or therapist. I am not even anything more than an amateur literary critic. But let me give you my take on that. It’s clear that John is dreaming about all kinds of things that are giving him anxiety here, if Jade’s assessment about his dreams being lousy is true.

Harry Anderson is, as he’ll say later, kind of a weird mutual father figure for him and his Dad, and as a stage magician and comedian, he represents John’s aspirations.

John wants to grow up to be a great stage magician and comedian, and if there’s anything we’ve seen about the Heir of Breath so far, it’s how extremely self-critical he is of his abilities - he’s screwed up every disguise and magic trick he’s tried so far.

The other things are pretty self-explanatory - he’s anxious about his relationship with his Dad, he’s anxious about his Dad’s identity, he’s anxious about his own identity - with the exception of the gushers. Are gushers just symbolizing Sburb for John? Does he have a premonition that the gushers are tainted by the hand of his archnemesis, Betty Crocker? Maybe that one’s just silly.

Maybe they’re all just silly!

https://homestuck.com/story/652

I promise I will have more to say about Jade’s conversations once she is actually introduced, but until then, she is too enigmatic for me to talk about :^)

I will say, if the fact that John is stressing out about everything in his life and just not vocalizing his anxiety, it’s probable that he thinks Jade is just as mysterious as his pals think she is, and is just not talking about it.

I think John, like Jake, is way more intelligent than he lets on, and probably just keeps a lot of things on a simmer, thinking about them without necessarily opening up about them. He talks a lot about surface level stuff for sure, but he seems a lot more hesitant to talk about emotions, theories, that sort of thing. It actually reminds me a lot of how Kim Kitsuragi from Disco Elysium, far from his highly imaginative partner the player character, writes his thoughts down in a notebook to keep track of his through processes, hunches, case details, etc, whereas the Detective organizes everything in an interactive Thought Cabinet that serves as one half of the game’s Inventory and Progression System.

For example, John’s ability to describe and his ability to theorize is on full display in the FAQs that he writes, but when he talks, he’s often just as disorganized as he is everywhere else. Maybe John needs to take up journalling.

Huh. I wonder if Kim is a Prospit Dreamer and the Detective is a Derse Dreamer? That would make a lot of sense. Once @bladekindeyewear finishes playing Disco Elysium (which he is playing at my behest), I’ll see if he’s interested in assigning Lunar Sway, Classes and Aspects to the two of them.

https://homestuck.com/story/665

Dave Owns. The Narrative switches between character perspectives often right before there’s a major climax so that lots of characters can all have climactic encounters in sync with one another.

Eye imagery is on full display here as Dave ascends to the highest point in the building. The Sun over Dave’s house is drawn differently from other abstractions of the Sun in Homestuck, and this particular drawing of the Sun will later be juxtaposed against Terezi’s eyes as Alternia’s Sun burns them out.

The Sun as the Symbol of Light is also juxtaposed with Rose’s eyes later when she uses her seer powers, strengthening the connection between the Sun and Eyes. Near the very beginning of the comic, Rose compares the Sun moving on from the east coast to the west as him casting his lurid gaze on younger parts of the world, or the country. I’m not recalling the exact phrasing at this time.

Lil Cal’s creepy eyes are also highlighted by the Camera here. Through the vehicle of Lil Cal, Lord English is watching and quietly giving approval to all of this.

I choose to interpret the camera’s focus in this flash as giving us a glimpse into what Dave is paying attention to. And boy does Dave notice all of these eyes on him. Between seeing the sun as a malevolent eye watching him, to Lil Cal’s glassy gaze, to the Cameras bro uses to surveil him 24/7, Dave feels like he’s constantly being watched, and I think it’s safe to say it gives him the creeps.

https://homestuck.com/story/673

WV’s self-estimation isn’t much better than John’s.

https://homestuck.com/story/678

I wonder if we can get some insight into the strange minds of the Carapacians in the way that before he’s even finished receiving the commands, WV acts on them. WV is even more impulsive than John.

https://homestuck.com/story/684

Oh yeah, WV’s self-worth is way worse than John’s.

https://homestuck.com/story/685

Luckily almost as soon as his thoughts come, they go. He doesn’t spend too much time brooding over his self-loathing and survivor’s guilt, so good for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/688

A whole bunch of things that are symbolically related to the cast!

While WV’s can town playtime functions as foreshadowing for us, it serves as a replay of the extremely recent past for him, at least in terms of events that we know about.

https://homestuck.com/story/694

The light on Serenity’s belly looks a bit like the Sun, and therefore, an eye.

https://homestuck.com/story/699

The Blue Trees of Can Town call forward to Terezi’s forest, but I don’t think this is probably more substantial than something fun Andrew decided to call back to when he was writing the trolls.

IDK. Maybe Blue Trees = Democracy = Justice?

But Terezi’s brand of justice has nothing to do with Democracy.

https://homestuck.com/story/709

Tab, like GameBro, is an artifact of a bygone age.

https://homestuck.com/story/711

It’s a lot easier to become a citizen of Can Town than it is to become a citizen of the United States!

https://homestuck.com/story/714

I wonder who input all those commands before WV got on board? Maybe whoever was in charge of building these contraptions in the first place - a Carapacian Lab Rat in the Veil.

Always felt like the unseen actors making Sburb run behind the scenes were one of the nicest touches, they lend an air of sinister mystery even beyond the Guardians.

https://homestuck.com/story/721

I am not good at chess.

Maybe sometime, I will have my friend who is good at Chess analyze this game, and see how he feels about it.

https://homestuck.com/story/735

WV’s Self Esteem is very, very bad.

https://homestuck.com/story/752

Our first introduction to the laws of time travel in Homestuck - the past is a place that materially exists, and in only one specific configuration that can be interacted with. You can only bring things forward from the past if nobody else got to them before you. You can’t go back and undo things that somebody else (or you) has already done according to the canonical configuration of events.

https://homestuck.com/story/757

This is ridiculously cool.

Homestuck’s huge climactic story events are arguably one of the things that makes it so special as a story. I can’t think of a story that does such a good job of building up tension in multiple storylines before having them all converge.

https://homestuck.com/story/760

https://homestuck.com/story/765

I wonder what the exact mechanism is by which Jade is aware of the gaming abstractions and commands to the degree that she is? Is it just her Skaian dreams? This could be a one-off gag, but it could also be an indication of a degree of clairvoyance greater than that which I feel like the visions she has as the Prospitian Moon passes through Skaia.

https://homestuck.com/story/768

Jade loves to watch things grow.

It’s a Space Thing.

https://homestuck.com/story/777

According to BladeKindEyeWear’s Inversion Theory Jade’s complicated and carefully orchestrated time loops, which she uses to connect people with possibilities, is an example of her inverting under extreme stress, acting more like a Seer of Time, her opposite, than like a Witch of Space (in much the same way that Rose acts an awful lot like a Witch of Void for much of the comic’s first half!)

I expect a real Seer of Time wouldn’t need quite so many contrivances to keep track of everything going on in the past and future. Eventually, Jade stops using her colourful reminders, which is probably an indicator that she is no longer attempting to play outside of her lane.

https://homestuck.com/story/789

Pretty much all of Jade’s interests cast her immediately as someone with a pretty strong maternal instinct, something that she shares with other heroes of Space. Jade is a caretaker.

Her playthings are dolls so she can roleplay the part of a Mom. She grows oodles of plants, and seems to have a knack for it. She likes animals, and though the only animal in her life takes care of her, she puts in some work to take care of him too.

Her interests definitely mark her as the more classically girly of the two between her and Rose, and like her brother is preoccupied with manhood and Dadliness, Jade seems to preoccupied with Momliness - which is odd, considering that she doesn’t have a maternal figure to aspire to! (Maybe the White Queen?)

https://homestuck.com/story/790

Jade is not of course, only girly. The same way that Dad’s culturally out-of-place baking hobby marks him as transgressively feminine to John’s dismay, Jade’s scientific and artillerist hobbies are transgressively masculine.

Although it’s tempting to say that Jade loves the sciences because Grandpa raised her to, or because she’s aping him after he died, she’s clearly born to it. I think about the question of nature and nurture a lot in Homestuck.

I think on the whole, it falls pretty far to the side of Nature. Characters who share a common ancestry also share common character traits more often than not, even in the absence of shared cultural touchstones, shared geography, shared timeline. The same character only has a limited number of possible choices that they could have made, as Aranea will later say.

On the other hand, some characters turn out very different in one life than they do in another. Dirk doesn’t turn out nearly the psychopath that Bro Strider is by the time that Homestuck Proper concludes.

https://homestuck.com/story/795

Squiddles are, as everyone knows by now, a manifestation of the Dark Gods of the Furthest Ring, but I think there’s more going on with them too - they have kind of a horny energy that I can’t quite place. I’m going to come back to that. Any case, they seem to be one of the symbols that Rose and Jade share in common, although Rose subverts the colorful and cute squiddles into icons more of the extradimensional beasties that they actually represent.

Maybe I think Squiddles are a symbol of horny for the same reason that snakes are lewd to Cherubs - there’s definitely something phallic about tentacles, and definitely something intimate about the idea of becoming someone’s tangle buddy. The very first time I read Rose’s handle, I thought it read Tentacle The Rapist, which I suspect is kinda the point, and some of Andrew’s other works have variously described the process of interacting with tentacles as being molested and so on and so on.

Rose and Jade actually share a huge number of symbols in common between the two of them, which I think is great, but also sad - Rose and Jade clearly actually have quite a lot in common, and the two of them don’t really interact very much.

https://homestuck.com/story/797

I’m going to eventually decode Jade’s fascination with animals too, but for now I want to remark that it’s not just the idea of looking like an animal that excites Jade - it’s the idea of being like an animal that excites her. The exact same little poem is later reiterated by Serenity in WV’s nightmare, as he dreams of losing control of the power of the Ring of Orbs Fourfold and killing everyone he loves. What would be a nightmare for WV though is a fantasy for Jade. The idea of being out of control is thrilling for her.

Dave is also a furry.

https://homestuck.com/story/798

The trappings of a proper gentleman. Monocle. Pipe. Top Hat. Little White Gloves. A proper gentleman without these is a piss poor excuse for a proper gentleman indeed.

SYMBOLS.

https://homestuck.com/story/800

Another spot where Jade is able to interface directly with the audience, in some form or another.

https://homestuck.com/story/802

Jade may have fantasies of transforming into something more animalistic, but she’s not willing to indulge them.

https://homestuck.com/story/803

Jade completely rejects the symbols of witchcraft that Rose so readily embraces.

https://homestuck.com/story/804

Jade contemplates engaging in some Vriskaesque behavior. Is it just because Vriska is watching her? Maybe she’s picking up some Vriska-esque vibes through the feed as the Thief of Light practices her mind control.

https://homestuck.com/story/808

I think it’s safe to say one of two things is going on here.

Jade is either literally cognizant of the audience and interacting with them, putting her on a layer of the story that is quite a lot closer to us than you would expect of someone as innocuous as Jade (maybe the immediate presence of the Fourth Wall upstairs could facilitate that relationship?)

Or Jade has an active imagination, is extremely lonely, and likes to interact with her imaginary audience as a way of projecting a friendly and hospitable demeanor onto the world around her in sort of the exact opposite way that Rose imagines the worst of everything and everyone?

Or, as it often is in Homestuck, it could be both motherfuckin’ things.

https://homestuck.com/story/829

Did I mention Dave is a furry? Dave is totally a furry.

If we read Squiddles as a symbol of intimate contact with living things, Jade’s computer having Squiddles front and center is appropriate - it’s her point of contact to all the people in her life.

Tune in on the morrow to watch Dave’s Bro beat the shit out of him.

Until then, this is Cam signing off, alive and not alone.

#homestuck #liveblogging #commentary #disco elysium #bladekindeyewear #inversion theory #squiddles

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nights-lament · 3 years

Text

RWBY Volume 8, Chapter 1 Thoughts and Opinions

HELLO, INTERWEBS!!! At long last, we are back with more RWBY, and with it, more RWBY Thoughts and Opinions! After the absolute roller coaster that was Volume 7's cliffhanger finale, I can not imagine the insanity that awaits us this Volume. So, without further ado, here are my various thoughts and opinions on Chapter 1 of RWBY Volume 8, "Divide"

SPOILERS BELOW:

Hmm, starting off with a mysterious woman scrubbing floors, and...wait, is that...no...

I really like the way they juxtapose Cinder scrubbing with her scratching the chair. Very symbolic.

Yick, something about organic architecture just gives me the willies. I mean, is the whale aware that they double as a building complex? Can they feel the diabolical ongoings of it's rib cage? Creepy stuff.

Oof, outright taking credit for grabbing the relic, Cinder? Yeah, no way that's going to bite you in the ass.

Oh my. Mercury, Emerald, AND Hazel have new looks this season. I'm sure I'll warm up to them eventually, but right now Emerald's and Hazel's aren't really doing this. For Hazel, the outfit is all right, but the hair is a bit boring compared to his originals. Mercury's is ok, but is it just me, or is he basically wearing Yang's V4-6 outfit? I mean, it works, but still.

"Without you, I am nothing." That...didn't sound like the first time she's said that. It almost sounds like something Salem's drilled into her head for years. Cinder may be irredeemable in my opinion, but I do love a good tragic backstory.

You know, I guess would make sense for the crater to be the slums area. Can't imagine living directly under a floating landmass would be considered prime real estate.

Ooh, this old man has badger paws. I don't think we've seen that kind of Faunus trait yet.

D'aaww, Nora gave Oscar a soft hug rather than her usual glomp. So cute ^-^

I'm interested in how Oscar not telling them about Oz is going to play out.

Ok, their is a lot going on in this bar-base worth talking about, but for some reason I am fascinated by the picture of (i'm assuming) the founders in the background. What interesting designs they have. I feel like they have a story, and I would like to hear it.

Penny's dejected demeanor is giving me all of the feels Q_Q

Not sure how I feel about the rift forming between RWBYJNRO, though I guess we'll have to see where it goes. At least we have people like Jaune playing mediator.

I will say, though, I look forward to seeing Ren and Nora apart. As much as I love them as a couple, I'd very much like to see them operate as individuals.

God, Ironwood trying to manipulate Penny like that.

And there it is. Ironwood has truly revealed his true feelings, and his motivation for his attempt to launch Atlas. He isn't making a tactical retreat in order to form a new plan altogether. He's abandoning the fight altogether, leaving Remnant to die so that he and Atlas can live. It's funny, he wanted to avoid becoming Lionheart, but he was a coward too.

"Everything that follows will be on your hands". That motherf-

You know, we don't see a lot of corpses on this show, do we? Penny got better, Amber's screentime ended as she died, Roman got eaten, Pyrrha got an express viking funeral, etc, and a lot of others were only corpses for seconds before we never saw them again. They did a good job selling how proper dead Clover is here.

Ok, I don't know squat about Hospital layouts. Is it normal to have the morgue right outside of an emergency room? I mean, I guess it saves some travel time should things go wrong, but still, seems like a great anxiety generator for the patient, especially with both rooms having windows. "That's where I'll be going next."

I like the new metal arm. The fact that you can see all of the internal stuff makes it feel like it was quickly put together for the sake of urgency, while still looking cool.

Man, that rendition of "Hero" in the background. Chilling.

Is Winter getting a new look already? I must say. I like the look of the braces, and the ponytail is a vast improvement over the bun.

JESUS H CHRIST IRONWOOD!!! I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING OUT THERE TO ARREST THEM!!! THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A PRETTY BIG FASCIST MOVE, RIGHT!? HE JUST SHOT CHAD JAMES IN THE FACE!!!

What really interests me is everyone's reactions. Elm and Marrow are incredibly shocked, Harriet and Winter share their little look of doubt, and then there's Vine who just...doesn't react at all. Either that or it's all in his eyes, which we can't really see from here. Either way, not a huge reaction from him. Methinks the Ace-Ops and Winter might be starting to doubt the horse they bet on.

I find it interesting that Salem doesn't know how the Relic works, but then I suppose it makes sense, seeing as Oz probably placed them into the vaults almost immediately after finding them, so this is probably the first time she's even seen one in person..

Ok, OP time, and buckle up, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, because this one is going to be a doozy.

-First off, the song sounds pretty good, but it seems like it's going to go through the same cycle as the rest where it doesn't do too much for me at first, but has me headbanging like a metalhead by the end of the volume

- Mantle glitching out between peaceful and wartorn is a wonderful effect. Definitely fills you with a sense of dread.

-The individual shots of Team RWBY are absolutely gorgeous. Conceptually, it's the standard "where we started and where we're at", but the composition is worthy of a chef's kiss. I think I've found my new wallpaper.

-The Ace-Ops appearing on Clover's pin is nice, but what I find interesting is Harriet and Qrow appearing back to back, especially with Harriet looking so angry. Is Harriet going to double down on her loyalty to Ironwood and go after Qrow?

- It seems Robyn is going to be Qrow's main source of support this season, though the bars seem to suggest they might be in custody for a while.

-Oscar seems to be in Salem's stronghold, which doesn't bode well for our farmboy, also, WHY DOES SALEM HAVE DEMON WINGS!? Emerald's Volume 5 illusion wasn't this scary looking!

-I feel like their's symbolism showing Team RWBY's weapons paired together like that, but I feel like it's too early to say what of. Looks pretty, though

-Ren and Nora standing so far apart. It hurts my soul! Interesting how, while Ren looks away, Nora actually turns towards him.

-I didn't notice Winter's change of expression/outfit before passing by Weiss. She went from looking confident and slightly condescending to full with doubt.

-Not a lot to say about the quick shots of Whitley and Willow other then the fact that they both look worried. The image of the Schnee Snowflake shattering, however, is VERY interesting.

-I'm always a sucker for some good ol' chess symbolism. I find it interesting that while Salem's pieces dissolve into creatures of Grimm, Ironwood's simply dissolve, leaving him alone. Perhaps shooting a fellow councilman in the face right in front of his inner circle doesn't play out as well for him as well as he thought it would.

- Speaking of the classics, also gotta love me some reflection artwork. Watts seems to be working behind Pietro's back while Pietro (presumably) works to get Amity running, while secretly worrying about Penny, whose reflection cracks, possibly symbolizing her resolve. I worry for her.

- The snowflake turning into a flower petal in Ren's hand, while a similar petal passes Nora by. I don't know what this means, but I'm intrigued.

- It seems Ruby and Yang won't be completely be at odds, judging by the look they give each other before going into the action shot.

- Hmm, while Cinder pulls a Za Warudo on the fight scene, you can see a dejected Emerald and a pissed off Neo, still moving, among the heroes. Interesting...

-Almost as interesting as Cinder grasping her Grimm arm before being engulfed in flames. Perhaps Salem pulled a Wormtail's Silver Hand with that arm.

-Is this the first time we've seen the Staff of Creation in it's entirety? I remember wanting to include it and the Lamp in my RWBY Vol 7 spritesheet, but couldn't find any images of it's bottom half. I like the little jewel on the bottom.

-Wow, CRWBY went full Kingdom Hearts with the heroes falling through the ice, and I absolutely LOVE IT! This op has some of the most gorgeous visuals the series has ever seen.

-HAPPY EVER AFTER HAPPY? NEVER AGAIN Daaaaaaamn, that's awesome. It kind of reminds me of a line from Red Like Roses Part II, "This bedtime story ends with Misery Ever After". It's incredibly haunting.

-Almost as haunting as the sketchy art style that flashes in between the words, particularly the part that shows Penny's eyes going red before the rest of her does. Did we predict Watts hacking Penny a volume too early?

-The final shot of Crescent Rose alone stuck in the snow. Damn. The theme of this op seems to be "foreboding as all hell"

Damn. Damn! DAMN! This was, without question, the best OP RWBY has ever had. By, like, a lot. The visuals were some of the best the show has ever had to offer, the foreboding is through the roof, and the symbolism is incredibly clever. I don't envy them when it comes time to make Volume 9's, because this will be a very tough act to beat. I am so happy to have RWBY back, and I am both excited and terrified to see what this show is going to do next.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #rwby spoilers #rwby thoughts and opinions #rooster teeth animation

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shadows-twilight · 3 years