evil-isnt-born-dearie-blog

[heyclickadee]

*manifesting Tech lives crumbs in the trailer, which I’m also manifesting*

[understandableparadox]

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

[theemporium]

if you decide to do luke & cherry blurbs, i love me some angst but i know you said you’re including angst in the actual storyline lol, but i really love the sweet domestic moments like when they take naps on her couch tg or she gives him head scratches so i’d love more wholesome stuff too that captures just how hard they are falling in love, although i love reading the smut it’s nice to also see the sweet side of their relationship 🫶🏼

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“I don’t get it.”

You turned your attention away from the TV screen and towards the boy that was currently sprawled on top of you. 

“You don’t get what?” 

“This doppelgänger stuff,” Luke muttered, his cheek pressed against your stomach and his arms wrapped around your thighs. “So, there’s two of them now? Does everyone get a doppelgänger? Do we have to deal with two Jeremy’s?” 

You snorted, raising your hand to gently push through his curls. “No. Well, Stefan has a doppelgänger too but you don’t see him until, like, season five or something.” 

“Huh,” Luke hummed. “Who knew being a vampire brought so much drama.” 

“This is only season two, it gets so much worse,” you told the boy, watching with amusement as his head snapped up to look at you. 

“Worse? How can it get worse? She’s almost died every episode!” Luke scoffed, the episode now paused and his chin pressing against your lower stomach as he looked up at you like a lost puppy.

“It’s The Vampire Diaries, Luke, that’s the whole point of the show,” you snorted. “They cry. They die. Some come back to life. Some don’t. And you have to have that one character you despise no matter what even if they are liked by everyone else.” 

Luke nodded, looking oddly serious. “Jeremy Gilbert.” 

“And you get to meet the love of my life,” you added, lighthearted and playful and so unaware of the way the boy tensed on top of you. 

“Who?” 

You let out a wistful sigh. “Klaus Mikaelson.” 

“Klaus,” he repeated with a blink. “Like Santa Claus?” 

“Not Claus, Klaus,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “He’s the best character in this show, just you wait and see. You’ll love him.” 

Luke laid his head back down on your stomach, a frown on his lips. “I’m sure I will.” 

“Don’t get jealous,” you mused, your nails scratching across his scalp. “I wouldn’t give Klaus head scratches and let him squish me for three episodes straight.”

“You’re comfy,” Luke huffed in response, nuzzling himself further against your stomach.

“And I guess you’re a pretty good blanket,” you teased lightly. “Save me a bunch on heating too.” 

Luke didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “M’not that warm.” 

“You’re a fucking furnance, Hughes,” you retorted. 

“But you love it,” he snapped back. 

Your lips twitched. “Yeah, I guess I do.” 

Luke didn’t bother hiding the smile that took over his face. “Bet Klaus isn’t a furnace.” 

You snorted. “Drop it, Luke!”

.

[actually-well-written]

modern AU Luffy x reader. pregnancy when you broke up. Pure Fluff

Inspired: season 8 episode 24 of FRIENDS; @portgasbru

trigger warning: swearing and description of birth 

I know Luffy's a little of out character, but I thought that in the modern world he would be a little less childish and a bit of a burnt out adult. A person that was a very energetic and silly kid, but grow up in a not so free feeling world. Unlike his anime. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Deep breaths. Deep breaths." Luffy repeats, soothing her back and rubbing her forearm.

"MY BREATHS CAN'T GET ANY DEEPER!!!" She shouts out despite being out of breath. "Help me out of bed, I need to walk." She demands, holding out her hand for him to grab.

He springs out of the bed and helps her feet onto the floor. Grabbing into her side and her arm, they start pacing around the hospital room, Luffy holding her close.

Her pants and groans of pain, die down just a little bit as they both rub her swollen belly and take slow steps.

"Oh good Lord!" She whines out, the sweat on her forehead causing her hair to stick to her face. "Luffy, I swear to fucking God, I hate you so much!"

"What did I do?!" He asks, dewildered.

"You did this to me!!"

"Well, it was really a team effort." He jokes, rubbing his neck for self comfort.

She stops in her tracks and glares at him, taking a deep breath as her contraction stops for the moment.

Luffy holds (y/n) by her waist and looks over her stomach, he sighs anxiously, "this baby sure is takin' its time."

"No kidding."

Near the end of last year, Luffy and (y/n) broke up, and as fate would have it, about three days after, (y/n) found out she was pregnant.

Despite all that happened, she told Luffy, he is the father, it was in his right for him to know. (Y/n) Of course made it clear she didn't want him to do anything he didn't want to or become a part of something so sudden with hardly any preparation, but he wanted to be in the baby's life and she did always wanted children.

Thus, they agreed to have the baby, and share custody. Nothing more, nothing less. They could be parents and not have to be forced to date again.

Nine months later and after some preparations, her water broke and they rushed to the hospital. Now waiting for her to fully dilate in a semi private room, at the moment, no other person was in the room.

Luffy sets himself next to (y/n) and carefully wraps his arms around her, placing loving hand on her belly and laying his head on a pillow.

"...Luffy? Can I tell you something?" She whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really scared right now."

"Scared?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Everyone and their mom's been telling me horror stories of deliveries gone wrong and yeah, I know pain was always gonna happen, but now that it's actually happening, im-im scared."

Luffy glances to the side, licking his lips as if the confession wasn't shocking at all. "It's ok, bab-(y/n). Everythin's gonna be fine."

"You don't know that." She whispers, crossing her arms in a self hug.

"Yes I do. Everythin' will be fine. This baby will be happy and healthy-well. Maybe not happy, babies come out crying right? Healthy then. Definitely healthy." He reassures, getting a little sidetracked.

She giggles, rubbing a circle on her stomach, "yeah?"

"Yeah. I promise."

The two smile and stare at each other. (Y/n) Awkwardly giggles and looks away.

"...you know what we haven't done?" She asks, changing the subject. "Agree on a name."

Luffy's expression immediately drops and he crosses his arms, turning away from her, "I'm telling you, Solo is an amazin' name."

"We are not naming our-could-be son after Han Solo!!"

"HE'S SO AMAZING!!" He raises his arms to his side in protest. "And we are not namin' our-could-be daughter Persephone."

"I don't like Persephone anymore." She confesses, placing a soothing hand on one of her swollen ankles.

"Good!"

"I was thinking, if it's a girl, Céleste?"

"Céleste...." He repeats in a whisper. "Yeah, I'm good with that."

"And if it's a boyyyy...." She trials off tilting her head to the side as if it follows her sentence. "Ace."

Luffy snaps his head around and raises his eyebrows in an annoyed expression, "that's not funny."

She laughs softly, running a hand through her hair. Her sweat wetting her palm. "It's a little funny."

He doesn't reply, but leans against the headboard, "Arie." He deadpans, staring down at the foot of the bed. "If it's a boy, Arie."

"....Arie," she repeats, smiling to herself, "ok, Arie it is."

"Welp, that took us longer than it should have." He chuckles, combing his hat hair with his fingers.

She takes notice, biting a nail, a habit she hopes doesn't pass onto her baby. "Luffy? Why did you take off your hat?"

"Huh?"

"Your hat." She points to his signature straw hat sitting on the beige night stand next to the bed.

"Oh, um-"

"You don't like taking it off. You wore it to our first date. Hell, you wore it when we were conceiving this thing." She chuckles, gesturing to her belly.

"Hehe, yeah, that thing's seen a lot." He whispers, a light blush on his cheeks.

"Why'd you take it off?"

Luffy pauses, and scratches his neck for the possible millionth time now, and glances around the room to not meet her eyes.

"Uh, the doctor looked at me kinda funny when she saw me wearin' it."

"So? I've seen you wear that thing with a full fancy suit."

"Well, I..I need to mature a little, don't you think?"

"What?! No! Where is this coming from? Who are you?! Luffy wouldn't say that!"

"I'm gonna be a father now, (y/n), I need to start actin' my age-"

"Don't ever say that again." She pouts, glancing down at his shirt to avoid eye contact, "I like that you're immature, you've always made me laugh and it's admirable how you're never afraid to be yourself in any situation. Why would you want to change that?"

He pauses, taking his head off the headboard and putting his arms between his legs, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Please, put it back on." She tucks a hair behind her ear, "It makes me anxious when you take it off."

"Huh? Why?" He raises his head a little.

"Because! It makes you look serious, especially when you're frowning. How am I supposed to be less scared, if you look like your getting ready for something bad?"

Luffy sighs, seeing her worried expression. Without saying anything, he reaches towards the nightstand and places his hat back on his head, not bothering to adjust the string.

(Y/n) Also stays silent, laying her head right under his shoulder, her fingers gently adjusting the string to tighten perfectly around Luffy's jawline.

He let's her, not speaking or moving, not even watching, instead focusing on the outside world, right through the room window. Watching as the people walk by, probably none of them having to deal with an accidental pregnancy or the complicated feelings it brings.

"Can you....talk?" She asks, softly, lowering her hands from the string and placing them on her lap.

"What?" He snaps his focus back to her, forcing his gaze away from the couple below sitting in a park bench as they drink coffee together. A bittersweet nostalgia feeling eating at his heart.

She frowns softly, her eyes feeling with a bit of anxiousness. "Talk. About...anything really. I love hearing you talk." She whispers, remembering all the times she used to ask him to talk in order to fall asleep.

"Anything?" He snorts, "don't get me started." He crosses his arms and titles his head, thinking of something to say that would help her forget about basically pushing out a nine pound bowling ball.

"I saw the trailer for a movie, but I don't remember what the movie was called. So I made Zoro drive me to the movie theater, to see if I could recognize it by the poster. Turns out it wasn't a movie, it was an ad for car insurance."

She laughs and grabs his arm, "how do you mix that up?"

"Ads are becoming movie level, (y/n). Don't judge me!" He giggles, playfully scolding her. "Anyways, I bought popcorn and then me and Zoro went to go see Oppenheimer instead."

"Is it good? I haven't watched it yet."

"Yeah, it was. Really loud though." He explains, rubbing his ears as if he can still hear it perfectly.

"I wanna see sonic three!" She states, bouncing her feet on the bed slightly.

"Oooh, me too!" His eyes lights up in excitement, the exact way she likes them. "Let's go see it when it comes out!"

"Uh, when it does, we'll have a seven month old."

"We'll take 'em with us!"

" I don't think the other people there would appreciate that." She giggles.

"Oh, right. Fuck." He exclaims, scratching his leg while thinking of a new solution.

She smiles brightly at him, reaching towards his hat and fixing it to balance better on his head. The action causes Luffy to pause and watch her as her eyes glance at him more times than actually needed.

She puts her hand on the bed, in the space between the two. He clears his throat and rubs his cheek.

"I've...I've been thinking." He starts, placing his arm across her back, rubbing his leg nervously.

"You can think?" She jokes, Luffy only ignoring it.

".....I think-"

The door opens, causing (y/n) and Luffy to turn. The doctor walks in, putting on clean new gloves. "Nineteen hours." She exclaims, stopping right at the foot of the bed, "How you doing?"

"Like if this baby doesn't come out now, I'm gonna cut my stomach open and make 'em." She deadpans, causing Luffy to widen his eyes.

The doctor nods in understanding, checking her dilation, an action (y/n) unfortunately became used too. "Welp, you're in luck."

"I'm sorry?" Luffy asks, getting off the bed in shock. The contraption pain forgotten for (y/n).

"You're fully dilated. Let's go have this baby." She proudly announces, calling in nurses to help move the bed.

"Wait-wait. No-what? What. What!?" She panics, as they roll her away into the hallways, Luffy right next to her, holding her hand. "I'm not ready for this!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!" (y/n) Sobs out, inhaling rapidly.

"Ok, we stop in five seconds." The doctor announces. "Five.......four-"

"Threetwoone!" (Y/n) Whines out, immediately stopping and laying her head on the angled bed. Panting and crying.

"You're doing great, (y/n)." Luffy praises, moving the hair from her face. Her sweat sticking to his finger. His other hand wrapped around her leg, helping her keep them open.

"Take a break, alright? breathe and we start again in ten minutes." The doctor explains, pushing her chair away slightly.

"No. No. No. I can't. I can't push anymore." She whimpers, covering her face with a hand as she cries.

"Yes, yes you can, (y/n). You're the strongest woman I know." Luffy reassures, adjusting his grip.

"Talk. Talk. Talk. Please. Luffy, please." She pants. Grabbing onto the sheets and she pushes herself up more.

"Uh-um. I-I don't know what to say." He awkwardly laughs, whipping the sweat from his palms on one of the pillows.

"What were you gonna tell me? Back in the room, you were gonna tell me something."

"Oh. That, um. Can that wait-"

"Please. Please. Please. I-I need a distraction." She begs, closing her eyes tightly.

"I ... I was just gonna say that.... I think we should try again."

"Try what?" She asks, turning her head to look at him.

"Us." He exclaims, "when-when we broke up. I-I actually died. Like my chest hurt and I couldn't get out of bed. Then when you told me you were pregnant, I immediately thought that we should get back together." He confesses. "But you know, you told me you didn't want that, and I wanted to respect it, but after all these months, I kept missing you. You were right there, but I couldn't call you mine anymore and I missed it."

He glances at the floor and gulps, "I-I think we should try again. We have a kid now, we should be a family. I want to be a family. And I think you do too." He pauses, "I know I didn't say it enough when we were together, but I love you. I love you a lot and I don't think it can ever go away, because it can barely even fit in my body."

(Y/n) Stays silent, looking up at him with a wide eyed expression, her sobs causing her body to shake a bit and her tears still spill out of her eyes.

Luffy glances around the room, and clears his throat, "can you say something?" He whispers.

"...I don't know what to say." She confesses.

".... Say you still love me too."

"I do still love you." She breathed, "and honestly? When I found out I was pregnant, I hoped that it meant we got to try again, but I was scared, because what happens if we get hurt again and our baby gets in the mix."

"We won't get hurt again." He insisted, "I know I'm an idiot and pretty dumb, and I don't make good decisions, but it's okay, because you're amazing and perfect and i would learn calculus for you. I know with all my being we'll do it right this time. You deserve it, I deserve it. They deserve it."

They both pause and stare at each other in full love and tenderness. Leaning in, they smash their lips together in a passionate kiss. The hat sliding backwards a little and he places his hand on her cheek, they continue the kiss for a few more seconds.

The doctor places her hand on her heart and cooes. "I'm gonna call my baby daddy after this." One of the nurses whispers. The other three nod in understanding.

"Ok, if you guys are ready let's finish this up." The doctor pushed her chair closer, placing her hands on the bed.

The two pull away and turn back towards the doctor, "yes, please." (Y/n) Exclaims, the pain intensifying as another contraption starts. Luffy wraps his arm around her leg again and hold her hand with his other.

"Ok, now. Push."

She continues to push and cry, repeating the action for the next hour, when finally. The room is filled with baby cries.

(Y/n) Screams and sobs for the last time as she watches Luffy cut the umbilical cord. The nurse holds up the baby in front of them. "It's a boy." She says softly, before taking him away.

(Y/n) And Luffy smile at each other, he wipes away her tears, and she traced the scar on his cheek, a small action she didn't know she missed doing.

The nurse gives back the baby, now wrapped in a blue blanket. (Y/n) Takes him and places him perfectly in her arms. Luffy kisses him in his forehead as (y/n) admires him.

"Do we have a name?" A nurse asks, her hands on her hips, admiring the baby as well.

"Arie." Luffy and (y/n) reply in union, before glancing back at each other. They smile brightly, before sharing another kiss, the hat falling off this time, the string tugging on Luffy's neck a bit.

[greenerteacups]

oooh please someday tell us what you think of GOT

oh, no, it's my fatal weakness! it's [checks notes] literally just the bare modicum of temptation! okay you got me.

SO. in order to tell what's wrong with game of thrones you kind of have to have read the books, because the books are the reason the show goes off the rails. i actually blame the showrunners relatively little in proportion to GRRM for how bad the show was (which I'm not gonna rehash here because if you're interested in GOT in any capacity you've already seen that horse flogged to death). people debate when GOT "got bad" in terms of writing, but regardless of when you think it dropped off, everyone agrees the quality declined sharply in season 8, and to a certain extent, season 7. these are the seasons that are more or less entirely spun from whole cloth, because season 7 marks the beginning of what will, if we ever see it, be the Winds of Winter storyline. it's the first part that isn't based on a book by George R.R. Martin. it's said that he gave the showrunners plot outlines, but we don't know how detailed they were, or how much the writers diverged from the blueprint — and honestly, considering the cumulative changes made to the story by that point, some stark divergence would have been required. (there's a reason for this. i'll get there in a sec.)

so far, i'm not saying anything all that original. a lot of people recognized how bad the show got as soon as they ran out of Book to adapt. (I think it's kind of weird that they agreed to make a show about an unfinished series in the first place — did GRRM figure that this was his one shot at a really good HBO adaptation, and forego misgivings about his ability to write two full books in however many years it took to adapt? did he think they would wait for him? did he not care that the series would eventually spoil his magnum opus, which he's spent the last three decades of his life writing? perplexing.) but the more interesting question is why the show got bad once it ran out of Book, because in my mind, that's not a given. a lot of great shows depart from the books they were based on. fanfiction does exactly that, all the time! if you have good writers who understand the characters they're working with, departure means a different story, not a worse one. now, the natural reply would be to say that the writers of GOT just aren't good, or at least aren't good at the things that make for great television, and that's why they needed the books as a structure, but I don't think that's true or fair, either. books and television are very different things. the pacing of a book is totally different from the pacing of a television show, and even an episodic book like ASOIAF is going to need a lot of work before it's remotely watchable as a series. bad writers cannot make great series of television, regardless of how good their source material is. sure, they didn't invent the characters of tyrion lannister and daenerys targaryen, but they sure as hell understood story structure well enough to write a damn compelling season of TV about them!

so but then: what gives? i actually do think it's a problem with the books! the show starts out as very faithful to the early books (namely, A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings) to the point that most plotlines are copied beat-for-beat. the story is constructed a little differently, and it's definitely condensed, but the meat is still there. and not surprisingly, the early books in ASOIAF are very tightly written. for how long they are, you wouldn't expect it, but on every page of those books, the plot is racing. you can practically watch george trying to beat the fucking clock. and he does! useful context here is that he originally thought GOT was going to be a trilogy, and so the scope of most threads in the first book or two would have been much smaller. it also helps that the first three books are in some respects self-contained stories. the first book is a mystery, the second and third are espionage and war dramas — and they're kept tight in order to serve those respective plots.

the trouble begins with A Feast for Crows, and arguably A Storm of Swords, because GRRM starts multiplying plotlines and treating the series as a story, rather than each individual book. he also massively underestimated the number of pages it would take him to get through certain plot beats — an assumption whose foundation is unclear, because from a reader's standpoint, there is a fucke tonne of shit in Feast and Dance that's spurious. I'm not talking about Brienne's Riverlands storyline (which I adore thematically but speaking honestly should have been its own novella, not a part of Feast proper). I'm talking about whole chapters where Tyrion is sitting on his ass in the river, just talking to people. (will I eat crow about this if these pay off in hugely satisfying ways in Winds or Dream? oh, totally. my brothers, i will gorge myself on sweet sweet corvid. i will wear a dunce cap in the square, and gleefully, if these turn out to not have been wastes of time. the fact that i am writing this means i am willing to stake a non-negligible amount of pride on the prediction that that will not happen). I'm talking about scenes where the characters stare at each other and talk idly about things that have already happened while the author describes things we already have seen in excruciating detail. i'm talking about threads that, while forgivable in a different novel, are unforgivable in this one, because you are neglecting your main characters and their story. and don't tell me you think that a day-by-day account tyrion's river cruise is necessary to telling his story, because in the count of monte cristo, the main guy disappears for nine years and comes hurtling back into the story as a vengeful aristocrat! and while time jumps like that don't work for everything, they certainly do work if what you're talking about isn't a major story thread!

now put aside whether or not all these meandering, unconcluded threads are enjoyable to read (as, in fairness, they often are!). think about them as if you're a tv showrunner. these bad boys are your worst nightmare. because while you know the author put them in for a reason, you haven't read the conclusion to the arc, so you don't know what that reason is. and even if the author tells you in broad strokes how things are going to end for any particular character (and this is a big "if," because GRRM's whole style is that he lets plots "develop as he goes," so I'm not actually convinced that he does have endings written out for most major characters), that still doesn't help you get them from point A (meandering storyline) to point B (actual conclusion). oh, and by the way, you have under a year to write this full season of television, while GRRM has been thinking about how to end the books for at least 10. all of this means you have to basically call an audible on whether or not certain arcs are going to pay off, and, if they are, whether they make for good television, and hence are worth writing. and you have to do that for every. single. unfinished. story. in the books.

here's an example: in the books, Quentin Martell goes on a quest to marry Daenerys and gain a dragon. many chapters are spent detailing this quest. spoiler alert: he fails, and he gets charbroiled by dragons. GRRM includes this plot to set up the actions of House Martell in Winds, but the problem is that we don't know what House Martell does in Winds, because (see above) the book DNE. So, although we can reliably bet that the showrunners understand (1) Daenerys is coming to Westeros with her 3 fantasy nukes, and (2) at some point they're gonna have to deal with the invasion of frozombies from Canada, that DOESN'T mean they necessarily know exactly what's going to happen to Dorne, or House Martell. i mean, fuck! we don't even know if Martin knows what's going to happen to Dorne or House Martell, because he's said he's the kind of writer who doesn't set shit out beforehand! so for every "Cersei defaults on millions of dragons in loans from the notorious Bank of Nobody Fucks With Us, assumes this will have no repercussions for her reign or Westerosi politics in general" plotline — which might as well have a big glaring THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT stamp on top of the chapter heading — you have Arianne Martell trying to do a coup/parent trap switcheroo with Myrcella, or Euron the Goffick Antichrist, or Faegon Targaryen and JonCon preparing a Blackfyre restoration, or anything else that might pan out — but might not! And while that uncertainty about what's important to the "overall story" might be a realistic way of depicting human beings in a world ruled by chance and not Destiny, it makes for much better reading than viewing, because Game of Thrones as a fantasy television series was based on the first three books, which are much more traditional "there is a plot and main characters and you can generally tell who they are" kind of book. I see Feast and Dance as a kind of soft reboot for the series in this respect, because they recenter the story around a much larger cast and cast a much broader net in terms of which characters "deserve" narrative attention.

but if you're making a season of television, you can't do that, because you've already set up the basic premise and pacing of your story, and you can't suddenly pivot into a long-form tone poem about the horrors of war. so you have to cut something. but what are you gonna cut? bear in mind that you can't just Forget About Dorne, or the Iron Islands, or the Vale, or the North, or pretty much any region of the story, because it's all interconnected, but to fit in everything from the books would require pacing of the sort that no reasonable audience would ever tolerate. and bear in mind that the later books sprout a lot more of these baby-plots that could go somewhere, but also might end up being secondary or tertiary to the "main story," which, at the end of the day, is about dragons and ice zombies and the rot at the heart of the feudal power system glorified in classical fantasy. that's the story that you as the showrunner absolutely must give them an end to, and that's the story that should be your priority 1.

so you do a hack and slash job, and you mortar over whatever you cut out with storylines that you cook up yourself, but you can't go too far afield, because you still need all the characters more or less in place for the final showdown. so you pinch here and push credulity there, and you do your best to put the characters in more or less the same place they would have been if you kept the original, but on a shorter timeframe. and is it as good as the first seasons? of course not! because the material that you have is not suited to TV like the first seasons are. and not only that, but you are now working with source material that is actively fighting your attempt to constrain a linear and well-paced narrative on it. the text that you're working with changed structure when you weren't looking, and now you have to find some way to shanghai this new sprawling behemoth of a Thing into a television show. oh, and by the way, don't think that the (living) author of the source material will be any help with this, because even though he's got years of experience working in television writing, he doesn't actually know how all of these threads will tie together, which is possibly the reason that the next book has taken over 8 years (now 13 and counting) to write. oh and also, your showrunners are sick of this (in fairness, very difficult) job and they want to go write for star wars instead, so they've refused the extra time the studio offered them for pre-production and pushed through a bunch of first-draft scripts, creating a crunch culture of the type that spawns entirely avoidable mistakes, like, say, some poor set designer leaving a starbucks cup in frame.

anyway, that's what I think went wrong with game of thrones.

[writeforfandoms]

Shatter Me 15

Find the series masterlist

Things can never go according to plan with Mando and Grogu, something you're reminded of rather forcefully when the three of you reach the next planet.

Oh boy. Guys. We're getting into the good stuff here. We've got I think five chapters to go before the interlude. Hee hee hee. Don't mind me sitting here rubbing my hands together in glee...

Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing, Feels, Mech is going through it, we're on season 2 episode 6.

Word count: 2k

You were in the hold when the ship dropped out of hyperspace, and you balanced easily against the hull. You gave the two a bit of time - you could just hear Mando’s voice, but not what he was saying, and only if you concentrated. You waited until he had gone quiet to rejoin them in the cockpit. 

The planet below you was new, shades of brown and tan and green. Mostly the vegetation seemed to be low-growing - grass and shrubs. You hadn’t seen any trees. Mando guided the Crest above the planet easily, keeping an eye out below. 

Up ahead, you could just see some ruins, jutting up above the ground in an impressive display. There was nothing else around it, just hilly land and rocks. 

“Looks like that’s the magic rock I’m supposed to take you to down there,” Mando observed, tipping the ship to circle around the site, to get a better look. Grogu burbled and then went quiet, looking out at the ruins. “Sorry, buddy, I can’t land on the top. Too small. Looks like we’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

What was he talking about? You eyed him, a little nervous. The windows didn’t come off. 

He landed the ship as smoothly as ever and picked up the kid, carrying him down and out. You followed, curious and a little apprehensive. 

And then Mando set the kid down briefly to slide his jetpack back into place, and you understood. 

So when Mando turned to look at you, you didn’t give him a chance. You weren’t sure if he was going to offer to take you with, or tell you to take the long route. But you already knew what you wanted. 

“You two go,” you told him, glancing quickly at Grogu. “I’ll follow behind you. You’ll be faster with just you and the kid.”

Mando hesitated for a moment before he nodded. “Keep your blaster with you,” he instructed, picking up Grogu and cradling the child against his chest.

“I will,” you agreed. “Now go.” 

Mando hesitated one more moment before he nodded and took off. His ascent was smooth, and you watched them for a few moments, just to watch them go. 

Then you sighed and turned to get your blaster.

It was far from the worst walk you’d endured. Sure, it was a little ways away, but it wasn’t boiling hot. You weren’t surrounded by people. It was quiet, with a gentle breeze occasionally ruffling the grass at your feet. 

This was a different kind of quiet. Not the quiet of night, or the quiet of a crackling fire, but the quiet of lack. Lack of people. Lack of life. 

It was starting to get to you, just a little.

Even Tatooine had life, had little noises. This? This was… unnerving. 

Idly, you wondered if Mando even noticed. Did he feel unnerved? Ever? Or was he too much a warrior through and through to feel something like that? 

You stopped, eyes going wide. Why were you thinking about him? Why were you even wondering? His emotions (or lack thereof) were his own business, not yours. 

You were just… You liked him. He was… kind, in his own way. Polite. He’d treated you better than many people had. 

And you were maybe a little enamored with that kindness, that hidden softness in him. A little. But it was a passing fancy, that was all. 

Besides, you didn’t even know if you’d stay with him, once the child was gone. 

If the child left. If a Jedi responded. 

So many ifs. So many possibilities. It was… staggering. Weighted. Both better and worse than what you’d grown used to. 

You sighed, a short exhalation through your nose, when you missed your step and nearly fell. Okay. That was enough time wondering about the future and what ifs and all this nonsense. You needed to focus on where you were going. 

The sound of another ship broke your concentration yet again, and you ducked low into the foliage before looking up. It was an unfamiliar ship, oddly shaped, and you frowned as you watched it go past overhead. It was headed towards the Crest. 

But you stayed put, well aware of your limitations when it came to fighting. Namely that you couldn’t. 

As soon as the other ship was out of sight, you booked it towards the seeing stone, as fast as you could manage. Mando was up there, probably. Unless he had gone to investigate. 

You were no good in a situation like this, and you knew it. 

Mando dropped down in front of you, and it was only habit that kept your lips closed. His hand landed on your shoulder, firm but grounding, not painful. 

“Stay down,” he told you. “Looks like trouble. Get to the kid if you can, but stay out of sight.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, heart pounding. For a moment you simply stared into the dark visor, hoping you were meeting his gaze, hoping that nothing was going to happen. That this wasn’t about the child. That these two weren’t in danger. 

Then he nodded, once, and took off again, far quieter than you would have guessed considering all the beskar. You took a deep breath, trying to rally yourself, and continued on. 

It was slow going, trying to stay down and out of sight. Especially since you didn’t know what you were staying out of sight from, or where, or how many. Your hands shook a little as you scrambled up finally to the top of the hill, ducked low. 

A faintly pulsing blue… energy? Something like that, surrounded the kid and the stone. Grogu’s eyes were closed, and he seemed oblivious to the world around him. You pulled your blaster out, holding it down and closing your eyes briefly.

Maker, you hoped you didn’t have to use this thing. You were absolutely no good at it. And you didn’t want to hurt anyone. You really didn’t want to have to shoot someone. You would, if you had to… Probably. But just the thought of it, even to defend this precious child, sent your heart fluttering with anxiety and made your chest hurt. 

You had the brief, wild thought that you should never have let Peli bully you into this. 

And then you swallowed and drew in a deep breath through your nose. Nothing had actually happened yet. You needed to pull yourself together, get a grip. You could do this. Mando had only given you one task: get to the kid. You’d done that. 

Now, you wanted to defend the kid. You wanted to. You. Just you. 

Your hands steadied, at least a little. You kept breathing, slow and steady. You didn’t hear shooting, didn’t hear shouts of pain. You also didn’t hear anyone approaching, not for long minutes. Long enough that your heart had almost settled back into a normal rhythm. 

And then a third ship emerged, flying low towards the Crest. And that ship? You knew the shape of that ship. You knew what the inside looked like. 

You’d had to work on one, once, as a personal favor. It had taken every ounce of willpower to not ask about the blood stains in the hold. 

This was bad. This was very bad. You wished briefly that you had a way to alert Mando, to let him know. 

But he was smart, he’d probably already seen what was going on. 

“Grogu,” you called, unable to contain the fear in your voice. “C’mon, we need to finish up and go.” 

But the child didn’t move, motionless atop the rock, eyes still closed. You swallowed hard, turning in a slow circle to try to see if anything was coming your way. No Mando. No soldiers. Nobody. 

And then the blaster fire started, the shouts drifting up to you, too distant to hear clearly. You swallowed, gripping your blaster more firmly. Okay. You could do this. 

You turned and started towards Grogu, even as the air felt oddly heavy. Trying to get too close felt like pushing through something thick and heavy, your hand meeting resistance as you reached for the child. 

And then the tension snapped suddenly back against you, pushing you back and sending you stumbling several steps away. You gasped in a breath, shaking a little, looking at the energy field around Grogu with awe and frustration. 

Even if the first ship hadn’t been here for Grogu, the second definitely was. You needed to get Grogu out and get going back to the Crest. 

“Grogu,” you called again, pushing closer to the child, struggling against the tension. “We have to go, kid.” 

But he didn’t respond, and after a few moments of holding steady, you were shoved backwards again. You stood there panting, trying to figure out if there was another way to get to him. 

“Hey, kid! Time to go.” Mando emerged from the rocks, starting towards the kid. You opened your mouth to warn him, but not in time. Mando got close, though, almost reaching the child before he was shoved backwards hard enough that he actually went flying a few feet. But he got right back up. 

“I tried that,” you told him, skirting the edge of the blue energy field to stop next to Mando. “I can’t reach him, not while he’s doing this.”

Both of you turned and watched as a second transport ship landed next to the first. Oh, kriff that was bad. So bad. You were all so screwed. 

“Stay with him,” Mando ordered you, turning away. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.” 

“Mando–” 

But he was gone, leaping back down the rocks and out of sight. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you took a moment - a few moments, really - to look at what he was facing. That was… a lot of potential troops. No matter that the Empire was supposed to be gone. 

You sucked in a couple deep breaths and turned to look at Grogu. Still doing… whatever he was doing. Okay. You licked your lips and held your blaster a bit tighter. Would it be better to walk around, keep an eye out in multiple directions? Or to just keep watching from this area? Did they even know the kid was up here? 

No. No, you needed to focus. Just stay here, where you had a pretty good view of the area below. You could hear the shouting and blaster fire, could even faintly see the flashes of red. 

You shifted your weight, anxious and feeling the need to do more. But you were guarding the kid, you were doing what you could. You would be no good in a firefight, and you well knew it. You were just as likely to hit an ally as a foe, and that… that was unacceptable. 

Too jittery to hold still, you started pacing, back and forth. The shouting was less now, farther away. You watched as first one, then the second transport ship took off, flying away. Your shoulders sank in relief. 

Behind you, the sudden cessation of humming made you turn and look, just in time to see Grogu slump sideways, passed out on top of the stone. 

An explosion made you turn again to look and see that one of the transport vessels had been hit and collided with the second one, sending the both of them into flaming ruins falling from the sky. 

Relief made your hands nearly numb, and you dropped your blaster to run to Grogu. “Kid. Hey. Grogu. You alright?” Carefully, you stroked one downy soft ear, but there was no reaction from him. Just soft breathing. He was out for the count, then. 

It was easy to scoop him into your arms, holding him close as you turned to look in the direction Mando had disappeared. Maybe you could leave now, could get going to… wherever was next. You allowed yourself a few moments to feel hopeful.

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 16.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin)

Word Count: 5.4K

Summary: flashback six - also known as the day of the heist

Warnings: this chapter heavily explores and discusses themes of peril, thoughts of self harm and self destruction, hopelessness, death, violence, and torture. if you are triggered by these topics, i would suggest skipping this chapter.

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 16 - FLASHBACK: SIX

note: the next couple of chapters will be heavily influenced by the ova 'no regrets'. they are my interpretations of the material. please watch those episode first, otherwise you will get spoiled on elements revolving around levi's backstory.

The silence of the Underground City spoke volumes.

At this rate, you’ve gone over the plan — and the potential ways it can go horribly wrong — at least a dozen times. 

Only so many distress signals can be sent from three people outrunning an entire Military Police unit, so you've employed all of them.

First, there’s the stolen flares.

They’re sparingly used, if ever, when it’s the four of you on a job. Two teams of two has easily been your best formation tactic.

A slight change to a single team of three should not cause much difficulty, especially when it involves veterans like Church, Ackerman, and Magnolia.

(You've already waited a half hour. No flare ever ignites.)

Next, if someone loses their grip on a flare canister, then the pursued team resorts to high-altitude flying.

At the height you’re perched upon — the rooftop of a dilapidated apartment complex overlooking the northern half of the Underground — you’d be able to see at least one person flipping and weaving through even the tallest buildings.

(Another half hour passes. No one ever breaches the skyline.)

The last option, should any ODM gear jam and fail, is more human: eyesight. 

With the B-team units ordered to be stationed around the Underground City, your three friends should be covered. If it looks like the Military Police have the upper hand, then you can quickly get the rest of the gang to safety.

You told Levi you wouldn't run after him, that you would keep your promise and stick to the plan, but now that it's been over an hour of radio silence?

You're not so sure.

Because there are no clouds in the Underground, your sightline is clear. Idly your ODM gear sits on either hips, hands occupied by the mechanism's handles that will boost you at a moment’s notice. Below you on the street stand your appointed security, both gang veterans, looking for any stray MPs roaming the area.

Every second waiting for Levi, Isabel, and Furlan to return from their heist route spans to eternity.

Over and over your eyes scan, checking between rooftops — nothing.

Your attention drops to the streets — nothing.

Silence creeps to a ninety-minute drag.

No flares sound.

No bodies fly.

“C’mon, Ackerman,” you mumble under your breath, flexing your left hand to give your body something to do — to avoid pulling the trigger too fast on a rescue operation.

He was explicit about not coming for him.

He was explicit and he was stupid to think you’d never come for him.

He was stupid to think—

“James!”

A panicked, shrill voice, however, sounds from the street.

You whip your attention to the east, taking your eyes off of the skyline for a belated beat.

The rogue voice screeches with urgency a second time.

“James!”

It's young and feminine and terrified.

You shift a boot towards the sound, squeezing the metal handles in your palms with your index fingers at the ready.

“Hey! Where is she? Please, tell me James is here.”

She seems out of breath, like she ran a great distance to get here.

You draw a line with your sight from where her footsteps originated: she came from the south.

Most of your units are pushed towards the north, where Levi stated the job would take place.

One of the seasoned lackeys, a younger man, grunts to her in response. “Who’s askin’?”

“I need to speak with James,” she urges, ignoring his question with a wavering tone. “Please—”

“She’s busy, kid,” the second man replies. “Spit it out if somethin’—”

“They caught Levi!”

Her shriek almost makes your foot slip, causing a roof shingle to dislodge.

Time ceases to exist.

Levi.

Below you hear the young men argue with her and the exchange of pleas that follow, but there is no distinction of sound to you. Their words are muddied as if your head has been dunked underwater.

You can't run to her. Anxiety grabs you by the scruff of your neck to hold you in place.

What's wrong with Levi?

Move.

Did something happen to Levi?

Move.

Without thinking, your hand ignites the ODM switch in your left hand to propel a spear into the stone wall from across the street. 

You swiftly swing down from your perch, finally catching a glimpse of the girl in question:

The girl — you remember her first name being Lucy — is as pale as a ghost. Her entire body trembles like a decaying leaf, as though she’s witnessed something horrific that she can’t scrub from her line of sight.

(What the hell did she see?)

Her shoulders relax once she spies your face, but not enough to quell your concern when tears well into her eyes.

“James! Oh my god, you’re here,” Lucy breathes, taking a step forward like you’re willing to console her with a comforting arm. "I tried to get here as fast as I—"

“Repeat what you just said about Ackerman,” you demand without solace. “Now.”

You take one pace back, ignoring the spike in your heart rate as the scenario snowballs in your mind’s eye.

From your peripheral vision, you see several others from the gang join the fray.

The two other lookouts on Lucy’s team run down the tiny guarded street, equally out of breath and panicked.

“We saw it happen in the southeast corner!” one of the running girls exclaim.

You — and the rest of the gang — turn in that direction. You can feel your throat seize.

He said the job was going to be in the northern half of the city.

How the fuck did they end up in the south quadrant?

"We followed them when the job changed course," Lucy explains as if she can read your mind. "Levi ordered Furlan and Isabel to cut south. Too many MPs were waiting in the north."

"But the job was in the north," you numbly reason.

“It might have been a trap, we don't know!" she desperately chirps. "A bunch of MPs went after them on ODM gear so we followed by foot. They were chasing Furlan through the streets. A few of them fell back and we thought maybe they gave up, but then a bunch of new people came out of nowhere and they all had green cloaks with wings—”

“Wings?” you snap, unable to stop your eyes from widening.

You whip your attention back to the young girl. Lucy cowers at your unyielding gaze.

“...yeah,” she answers, meek and uncertain. “They didn’t have the same jackets as the MPs. They had wings on their backs, on the cloaks and the jackets.”

A cloud of fearful whispers spreads like wildfire through the small crowd, infecting the minds of the reconnaissance team under your command.

It isn’t uncommon anymore for the Military Police patrolling the Underground to show up with ODM gear. It used to be a rarity, but now? They know better than to show up empty-handed.

Years of embarrassment have taught the thick-headed MPs a valuable lesson.

But green cloaks — and wings?

You can’t be mistaken by their meaning:

The Scout Regiment.

The military branch where suckers with death wishes band together to expire. They seek to explore the unknown, taking off on brainless expeditions past the city walls and into whatever Hell awaits on the other side.

(Why the fuck would they send the goddamn suicide squad to the Underground?)

You don’t need to live on the surface to know the stories: a third of Scout recruits barely make it past their first mission. And by the end of their first service year, the death toll rises to half. 

The only dumbasses left standing with the Wings of Freedom on their back are those who desperately want to die but can never find the right titan to eat them.

And, according to the stories, their missions beyond Wall Maria always come up empty-handed.

A thought passes through your mind like a papercut, stinging your blood cells with the very real possibility that they’ve turned their efforts inward — whether at the demand of the king or the disappointment of the people paying their salaries is unclear.

(Is the Underground City their new playground?)

If so, then Levi — this gang — could very well be their first dedicated target.

“Where?” 

The word spills out of your mouth, starting in your mind as a demand but dissolving to a murmur.

Going, running, to wherever the Military Police — or God forbid, the Scout Regiment — have your friends is the only plan of action you can think of. 

You’re supposed to make sure the people here are fine.

The need to run — go, go, go — far outweighs your logic.

“I…” The girl falters.

You hate how your voice erupts in the wake of your fear. “Where, Lucy?!”

“I don’t know! I lost track of them!” she yelps, squeezing her amber eyes shut. The hands at her sides are balled into tight, painful fists. “Isabel and Furlan got taken down by some MPs, but Levi kept going on ODM gear. He outran most of the MPs, but there was a man, a tall blonde guy, who—”

“Was he a Scout?” you press on, gritting your teeth. “Did you see the Wings of Freedom?”

“The fucking Scouts are here?” someone yelps behind you. “Oh, shit, dude. Oh, man…”

“What the hell are they doing down here?” another asks next to him. “They don’t fuck with the Underground!”

“Did the Wall missions fail?” an older girl asks under her breath. “Are they coming to wipe all of the Underground City out now?”

“Quiet,” you order, holding up a hand. It takes tensing your arm to keep the limb from shaking. “Lucy: where did you last see Levi?”

“The blonde man chased him out of the sky and into the streets. No one knows. We couldn’t see where they went, but it… I’m so sorry, James.”

Lucy’s voice is so small that you barely hear her.

All you can focus on is his voice ringing in your head, a whisper against the thin line of white noise filling your body.

Protect them.

You’re ready.

You’re so ready to fire up your ODM gear to chase after him, to fight off every single bastard who thinks about laying a finger on your friends.

We won’t get arrested. We’re too fast on ODM gear.

“What do we do, James?”

The MPs won’t stand a chance.

“Can she hear us? Is she freaking out?”

You want me to be the last person standing.

“James!”

Lucy shrieks in your face, breaking your delusion.

You blink back into your body to see a dozen faces staring back at you in various stages of grief.

Fear.

You focus on the way a tear streams down Lucy’s youthful face. It brings you back to when you picked her up off the streets. A kid, just like you, looking for food scraps and shelter — her mother had passed away at a young age, leaving her to fend for herself.

You knew what that was like, so you promised protection. A roof over her head. Food in her belly.

A chance at life.

Just like he once gave to you.

Now you’re the only leader left standing. The other three are either arrested — or worse.

You’re all that stands between dragging her back to the streets or pushing her to the gallows.

(You’re all anyone in this gang has.) 

I need you to be safe.

Levi’s voice tickles the outer shell of your ear, whispering past despite the dead wind.

You want to hate him. You really do.

But you promised.

Lucy’s lower lip trembles as she takes a step forward. 

This time you stay put, too frozen from the numbness in your body. 

“James… please, tell us: what do we do?”

You don’t know.

You wish you did, but you don’t know.

You want to tell them to run, to run as fast as they can and never look back.

You want to tell them that you don’t know how to do this without Isabel or Furlan.

You want to tell them you’d rather die than know a life without Levi.

But you promised.

I’ll keep them safe.

I know you will. Echoing in your mind like an omen. I trust you.

“If they’re arrested, then the MPs will be storming the apartment at any minute.”

You finally answer without an ounce of emotion. You can’t stomach thinking past protocol.

“We don’t have time to get our stuff. Organize yourselves into teams of three. Find the safe houses and don't come out until you hear from me. Take a single runner out to Roxy’s. They owe me a few favors, so they should give you table scraps until this blows over.”

“Are you getting Ackerman?” An older girl holding onto her brother’s small shoulders pipes up from your right.

“And Church?” Another person asks. “Magnolia?”

Refusing to think further than the present crisis, you shake your head.

“They all knew the risks of this heist. Right now, my priority is keeping everyone here safe. So go — and avoid detection the best you can. Leave the rest to me, alright?"

You pause, making eye contact with those staring at you. In front of you is a gradient of nerves.

(Everyone knows the risks of running with a gang in the Underground, no matter the price.)

"I said go, goddamnit!”

At your shouted order, most don’t hesitate to run.

The crowd forms into smaller clusters of refugees as they run towards the emergency routes you’ve mapped a hundred times before.

You don’t have time to panic.

You don’t have time to mourn about what could have been.

(A house gleaming in the sunlight with its windows open. The scent of a fresh meal being cooked. The soft meow overlapping over pleasant conversation about nothing at all.)

After all, you made a promise — 

And if three of the Underground’s most notorious gang leaders have been caught, then it’s only a matter of time until the manhunt ends with you.

.

.

.

.

  Week after week, your numbers dwindle. 

Day in and day out, houses are raided for anyone associated with Ackerman, Church, and Magnolia.

Bars, brothels, and drug dens are scoured for that missing puzzle piece.

Military Police, emboldened by their victory, are adamant to find anyone involved in their gang.

Most found are arrested.

Some offer information for a chance at immunity.

By the fourth week, the gang dissolves into half of its original number.

However, the rampant pursuit slows after the sixth week, and by the seventh, the Military Police stop searching.

The city becomes boisterous again for an entirely different reason, falling back to its routes of debauchery and strife.

Panic of those still in hiding twists into remorse, remorse into doubt, and soon the doubt creeps into what was once an impenetrable fortress.

And somewhere you failed.

Maybe it was because you kept your promise and never went after Levi, Isabel, and Furlan the day they disappeared.

Maybe it was because no one ever saw them again, creating a shroud of mystery in their disappearances. Most people assumed they were arrested and tortured for information. Others hoped they were able to at least die in a merciful way.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you gave up.

The longer you fought without your three friends, the longer you ran around the Underground City hiding from authority, the harder it became to remember why you were trying so hard to be the last person standing. 

Hiding with nothing to go back to — that was what waited for you at the end of all of this.

To make new headquarters on mere piles of rubble, alone.

People continue to get caught. 

People continue to lose their lives.

You were ready—

Ready to give up.

Ready to join the fate of so many others.

Ready to lose.

(All things considered, you had a good run.)

.

.

.

.

  Eight weeks.

It takes eight whole weeks for someone to finally rat you out.

In exchange for immunity, a scared newcomer snitched to the Military Police about the location of your hideout — and you can’t blame them.

The Underground City has always been a dog-eat-dog pit.

That, however, doesn’t mean you don’t still run.

The crisp, metallic zip of the pulley cuts the air every time you push through the alleyways, leaving the Military Police unit in the dust. Wind frays your hair, whipping pieces of it into your face as you run along brick walls and push for the a momentous swing.

It has been weeks of these chases, all evaded in the dust, but something feels different about this pursuit.

The officers feel confident this time.

Ready.

Another unit of MPs pursue on foot, shouting and taunting for your surrender, but they're no match for your swift escape.

The two officers following with ODM gear cannot match the sharpness of your turns.

You don’t know why you keep running.

Why can’t you just stop running?

In your lingering rage you almost want to turn back, take a knife, and attack.

To earn the heaviness of a murder charge on your shoulders. 

You want to lash out—

To make someone hurt— 

But you just keep running.

In your time of solitude, you've wondered how the end of all things went that day. Did those pigs take turns kicking Furlan with his hands tied behind his back? Did they drag Isabel through the street? Did they cut out Levi's tongue for back talk?

You hope they gave the MPs hell.

The imaginative injustices — the cruelty — fuels your fantasy of revenge.

Through another alleyway and into the streets, you latch onto another building and swing to your left to continue through the streets of— 

Wait.

Skirting around a corner, you see something briefly whip around a corner in a cloud of exhaust.

(Was that emerald?)

Your attention turns to the distinct color that entered your line of sight before it disappears.

Your eyes widen with recognition, but it's too late.

You failed again.

One look to your side is all it takes for a solid, heavy object to slam straight into you from the opposite direction, knocking a spear clean out of the neighboring wall.

The ODM gear jolts, causing you to jerk and drop abruptly to the dirt beneath. Your forearms shield your face from the dirt and debris as your body skids across the dirt path.

Before you even realize what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet. Metal clangs from the jostled handles in your palms as you push yourself up.

Your right arm reels back, fist clenched, and flies in an attempt to connect — and it does.

The punch lands directly in someone's face. The bone crunches under you knuckles.

A person yells in pain and grabs their nose, giving you ample opportunity to attack further. Your leg swings, kicking your boot square into their abdomen. You recognize the way their breath squelches: the wind rips right out of their lungs.

You want them to feel pain, just as you’ve felt pain.

You want them to suffer, just as you've suffered.

It doesn't matter who they are.

When the attacker is incapacitated, you make a choice: you turn the opposite direction, taking off into a sprint.

And you run, if only for a few seconds.

Because that very same emerald flash appears in your peripheral vision.

In just one breath, your feet get tangled up and send you flying to the ground you'd just found yourself lying upon.

A pair of hands suddenly tug at the back of your shirt, pushing you further into the muddied street. A forceful forearm presses down harder, pinning you to the ground. A pebble digs into your cheekbone, its jagged edge slicing into your skin. 

Trapped.

You grit your teeth, fighting the painful hold with everything you have. You shout and yell like a woman possessed, kicking your boots deeper into the Earth to propel forward, but you can't move.

(Give up — why can’t you just give up?)

Then a deep baritone voice pulls you from your erratic defenses, smooth like honey.

“James.”

Your last name on a stranger's tongue makes your stomach churn.

You continue fighting, digging the toe of your boot further for purchase.

Suddenly pain explodes in your scalp. Something pulls your chin high from the crown on your head, forcing your attention to the sky. What greets you is a tall, built figure above.

From the street lamp, you see it’s a man — early thirties, broad shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and neatly-combed blonde hair.

This mysterious man stares down at you, standing at full height. He doesn't acknowledge the person holding you down, knotting your hair in their balled fist.

One after the other, two more emerald cloaks drop down from the sky, their faces obscured by their hoods.

Blinking away from his face, you see it: his tan, cropped jacket, with white and blue wings outstretched against one another, pointing high with dignity.

The Wings of Freedom.

It's the Survey Corps, in the flesh.

“Four whole Scouts for little old me?” you chide.

The person holding you down rips your torso up higher, causing an immense strain in your spine.

You wince at the sensation of nearly being broken in half but refuse to make noise.

They don't get that satisfaction, not yet.

(You've felt worse.)

The blonde man above you does not react. He continues to stare, however, when he addresses another in his squadron.

“Get her up on her knees, Miche.”

The man behind you — presumably Miche — yanks you from the dirt to settle you on your calves. Without your arms to support you, you’re left floundering at his will.

“What?” you ask through clenched teeth. "Are the Scouts so bored of getting eaten alive that they've come to the Underground on a field trip?”

The man makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. His crystal blue eyes slide slowly from the crown of your head, past your face, then rest at your chest.

“Surface made?” he comments in a languid, baritone voice.

When you jostle against Miche's grip on your back, a feather-esque sensation brushes across your sternum.

Then you realize:

He’s staring at your necklace.

“Stolen?” the blonde man asks again, and venom poisons your tongue at his slander. Somehow you manage to hold a response.

You sneer instead, turning your attention to the side of a building.

A painful beat passes.

You hear the man’s boots near, crunching under packed dirt.

“My name is Commander Erwin Smith, of the Survey Corps," he introduces, not fazed by your lack of cooperation. "I was informed that you’re not only the muscle of this operation, but one of its four founding leaders. Is this true?”

He’s met with another stretch of silence.

“Handling operations for seven weeks without the help of your comrades is impressive.”

Another step.

“Or has it been closer to eight?”

“What do you want, surface scum?” you finally murmur, eyes locked on a particular patch of moss growing at the foundation of the building.

He exhales through his nose, contemplating. You continue to look away.

“Your protection is gone, James," Erwin begins. "Your gang, eradicated. Your people have fled — abandoned you, to save themselves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him.

Erwin evades your feigned ignorance. “A bounty has been on your head for two months. You’ve done all you can to avoid detection, but from where I stand, I see someone out of options.”

Your nostrils flare, unwilling to betray yourself in the face of the truth.

He isn’t wrong — it’s been the end of the line for weeks now.

You’ve run on borrowed time and a promise you barely believe in anymore.

You’re so tired.

“The Military Police would be glad to round out their gallows with someone responsible for embarrassing them so thoroughly.”

Is that where Levi ended up, in the gallows next to Isabel and Furlan?

(Are they no longer alive, just as everyone suspected?)

When you continue to stare at the adjacent wall, the man behind you tugs at your mangled hair and rips your focus back to the man in front of you.

The toe of the Commander’s boot is in line with your muddied knee.

From this angle, he's practically on top of you.

“However, I believe the finality of a noose is a great waste of potential talent.”

His eyes bore into yours when he slowly, carefully, drops to your height. His ivory-white knee plants gently into the dirt.

You blink up to his face, unable to suppress your confusion.

“Potential talent?” you hiss back, ignoring the searing pain in your scalp. “What is this, a pitch?”

The Commander hums. “I don’t pretend to know how extensive your crimes are, James. What I do know, however, is that you have an out.”

“Yeah?” you ask. “And what’s that, O' Golden One?”

Erwin’s eyes drop to the ground, so you follow suit without moving your head. From the edge of your vision you see it — the ODM gear still hooked around your hips.

“How long did it take you to properly handle ODM gear?” he asks with a genuine intrigue.

“Barely took me a week,” you lie under your breath.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he agrees. “Most of our recruits take months, sometimes even years, to masterfully scale the way you can.”

“Sounds shitty to me.”

“In a way.” A beat passes. Commander Erwin’s jaw sets. “Which is why I’m asking you to join the Scout Regiment under my command.”

You can’t help it — the anger disappears in a bark of a laugh.

It’s a request you never see coming, not a million years or a thousand lifetimes.

You’ve avoided the Military Police for weeks, only for a Scout to offer you… what? A twisted version of salvation in his army? 

The words blurt out of your mouth faster than you can help it.

“Join the Scouts?” He nods once to your yelp of a question. “Are you fucking insane?”

“Are you?” Erwin challenges. “Both options lead to your death. The only difference is choosing to make your death matter.”

“A noose or being eaten alive,” you snidely respond. “Gosh, Commander, which sounds less painful?”

“What do you think your friends would have selected, if given a choice?”

The swiftly-timed question is a punch straight to your gut.

Unable to stop your eyes from widening, you hate how your blood chills with panic.

How you can see that glint in the commander’s eyes when he’s finally, finally, caught your weak spot.

Seeing the visceral reaction, he continues. "Before they expired, would they have chosen to die here? Or would they have chosen a new life."

Was he saying…?

Was he saying they were already dead?

Isabel. Furlan.

Le…

Your lower lip trembles as you hold back from thinking about that final name.

You barely recognize your own voice when you speak, low and dangerous.

“How dare you…”

Erwin’s gaze is unwavering. “I’m asking you—”

“Don’t talk about them.”

“—what would they have chosen.”

“I said don’t talk about them!” you shout in his face, losing your cool.

His chin tilts a fraction of an inch, expression stoic.

“Then what about your fellow comrades, the people who laid down their lives for your safety — would they have wanted a chance?”

Despite yourself, you push with your boot to propel towards the blonde. “You disgusting piece of sh— fuck!”  

Miche rips your head back impossibly further, exposing your neck to the Commander. Erwin stands tall, pulling out a long sword from its metal sheath. The cool, sharp end of the blade rests against your throat.

If he wanted to, he could end your life right here in the streets.

If he wanted to, he could make this so much easier on you.

But he won’t.

This isn’t about ease.

It’s about power, control — total submission.

A part of you wants to push against the blade to make it easier.

No noose. No titans.

Just here.

But you promised.

Last one standing.

“...what happened to them?” you ask, unable to stop the crack in your voice.

If this is it, then you might as well know.

Commander Erwin keeps his blade held towards you. “I don’t know.”

“But it was you that day, wasn’t it?” You ease down to your knees again. Miche loosens his hold on your body. “You're the one that went after them two months ago. When there was a heist, it wasn’t just MPs chasing them. There were Scouts—”

“I don’t have all day, James.”

He interrupts the beginning of your emotional spiral with cutthroat apathy. His arm lowers when you do not retaliate. 

“Your hand-to-hand combat expertise is needed within our regiment. Combine that with your unique ODM handling, and I see a formidable redemption in your future—”

He continues to speak, detailing your servitude should you accept his terms.

You can feel the fight, the fire, ebbing to dying ember.

You’re so tired.

You’re so done with running.

(I’m so sorry, Levi.)

“—and you would presume a title under my command, the rank of a Lieutenant—”

“Wait.”

He pauses when you speak up, catching the oddity of his words. Your lifeless vision connects with his.

“Lieutenants don’t exist in your shitty Scout Corps.”

Erwin nods. “That’s correct. Lieutenants do not."

"Then why..."

"A title will deter animosity. Those who look down at you cannot question your authority."

"Because I'm not from the surface," you reason.

"Yes," he says.

"You're willing to give me an edge on the rest of your people. Why?" You watch him, trying to figure him out before he tells you for himself. “Why not just make me regular front-line titan fodder?”

Erwin seems to consider this, if only for a beat.

Then he speaks with an unshakable certainty:

“Because you know what it means to survive. That, in itself, is vital.”

Your shoulders slump as your body shuts down from the eternal fight.

So this is a choice, but it’s no choice at all.

Your life will not matter in the Scouts. The commander is right: you will die, perhaps not today, but at least choosing the Scouts guarantees the sunrise one single time.

Just like you once promised you'd see with the three of your friends.

And in the moment you mourn — the loss of your friends, the loss of your life, what could have been if that job really had worked out.

(What does it matter when you die, so long as it's soon?)

You grip onto a sense of hopelessness like a vice.

Grief.

Then—

Rage.

As swift as a sudden earthquake, you feel it tremble from your shins to your knees, up your torso and through your heart, filling every red hot blood cell in your body.

It was him.

You’re so sure of it.

Commander Erwin would have been the one responsible for turning Levi, Furlan, and Isabel into the Military Police. He was the one who would have sent your friends to their deaths — or did he kill them himself?

And if he was the one to kill them, then why would he offer you a choice to escape?

(Was this the same choice he gave the others?)

Levi would have never agreed to the Scouts. Furlan, Isabel — they would have followed whatever he chose.

They must have died the very day the heist went wrong eight weeks ago.

It’s why Erwin won’t confirm or deny their fates.

Sickness floods your body, but you hold onto the one thing that will keep their spark with you.

That rage.

They really think you’ll comply.

They really think you won’t burn and take the Scout Regiment down with you.

You’ll kill him.

You’ll kill Commander Erwin Smith, then Miche, then every single Scout that steps into your path until someone’s smart enough to take you down themselves.

“Fine, then.”

You speak, knowing your word is as doomed as the fire in your veins.

“I’ll do it."

You meet Erwin's intense gaze, signing your fate with blood on the dotted line.

"I’ll join the Scouts.”

.

author's note: I'm glad we collectively giggled and screamed and kicked our feet in the last few chapters. It was a marvelous time. Now I'm out here ruining everything.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @vigilancio @nomi98 @urfavcelestialangel @milkersonmac @blossomedfloweroflove @carries-blenders-and-stuff @hurtcomfortwhore

[feelbetterlove-books]

Okay I've rewatched episode 2 and I have some thoughts, forgive me if this has been done, but here's my take on how the Tommy Lands That Plane theory can still win!! Keep in mind I'm not a writer or a pilot 😅 I really know nothing, I'm just having fun, as del(o)usional as I may be. Putting this under a cut because it got long!

I've been thinking that this plane disaster honestly could have been wrapped up in one episode. I know it's a three part premiere but episode one had a different focus and episode three could have gone back to bees or done something else, imo there doesn't seem to be a huge reason to drag it out another 40 minutes unless they were going to do something big (for example, having Tommy pull a wild stunt like rappelling into the plane) (aside from the fact that Angela Bassett is arguably the biggest star and they're possibly dragging it out just to give her something cool and dramatic to do).

Here's why:

First, the bees, where did they go? They obviously caused the crash and they were in the plane when Athena first got to the cockpit, but then they disappeared?? We don't see them on the plane later on even through there's plenty of holes for them to come in through, and we don't even see them on the ground in Bobby's plot line or anything.

If they had wanted to cause more drama on the flight to extend the emergency with the passengers, there could have been bees on board, and maybe more people who were allergic. Instead, the disasters from episode one and two only overlap a little bit.

Second: the on plane emergencies. Only a few passengers were critically injured and they've been dealt with, all that was really left for them to do was wait and hope the plane didn't fall apart around them. They could show more passengers getting injured now, but at this point the 118 aren't on their phones prepared to talk them through it, they're on the move and ready to see the plane land.

The plane could crash and then we'd have plenty for everyone to work with, but idk they've already done a plane crash recovery and I think if it was going to happen, it would have been a better cliffhanger then the copilot going down.

I'm not sure, maybe Athena could still get the copilot back, but it didn't seem like it to me, and if she did idk what the point of him having a heart attack would be in the first place. Unfortunately, that man does not have Bobby's plot armor, and I really don't think he's going to be able to help with the landing. And if he can't, then they're pretty much back at square one as far as getting the plane on the ground goes.

Most of the episode we saw Athena reluctantly planning to go along with landing the plane herself, or working with Jem, who is much more knowledgeable, but I think if he was going to be able to land it, they could have shaved off some time from other scenes and it could have already been done at the end of this ep. The two of them and ATC have already worked together, tried, struggled, and ultimately failed to land the plane, and the situation is only getting more dangerous. I think they need a new idea and a new person to come in and help pull the landing off safely. And I think that person could be Tommy!!

For a start, I believe it has been confirmed that these episodes are in fact, inspired by Airport 1975, and my understanding is that the pilot rappelling from a helicopter into the plane is quite an important part of that movie, so it just makes sense that it could happen in episode three!

Now we might say, but Tommy flies helicopters, not planes! However, it is at the very least implied in season two that he can do both when Chimney called him to drop water on that neighborhood. And I'm choosing to believe for the sake of this theory and the invisible string, that it was really him.

We also know that the 217 is likely involved on the ground and it's possible that Tommy was working and he or someone else came up with this idea, and he got sent up. He's definitely brave and crazy enough to do it if the unsanctioned search for a cruise ship in a hurricane is any indication. Plus, he's becoming a part of the 118's found family, he has even more reason to do this than he did at the start of season seven and he'll be damned if he saved Athena then just for her to die now!!

Another main reason I think Tommy could land the plane is that one, it would remind the GA that he's a cool and competent pilot, and two, involving him in a big scene like this could go a long way towards establishing him not only as Buck's boyfriend, but also a character in his own right. One who can just fit into calls like Athena and Maddie do, one who could expand the range of what can be done in future episodes by linking the streets to the sky. We could even have a plot line with Buck taking those flying lessons. With the way they all get into accidents, it sure would be useful to have a certified pilot or two on hand to help the 118 as needed!!

Tommy might not be a main character now, but depending on how many seasons 9-1-1 has left, and taking into account how much Tim loves working with Lou, I mean, I think he could be one day and this would be a great way to set that up.

There's also the fact that Buck and Bobby are together on the site of where it seems the plane will be landing and this would give us the perfect opportunity for parallel Bucktommy & Bathena big dramatic kisses!! Plus there has already been reason to speculate that Lou was working with Angela and I mean just imagine it!! THIS WOULD BE SO COOL WE'RE THIS CLOSE TO HAVING IT ALL BUCKTOMMY NATION!! Tommy lovers, we could live off of this for years!! And I am going to keep my fingers crossed until we either fail to see Lou's name in the opening credits, or the plane is landed another way!

[anxresi]

I’m Sorry, But We REALLY Need To Talk About THIS from the leaked scripts.

Out of the MANY downright idiotic and plainly risible events that occur in future episodes of this accursed show, THIS is the Big One which stands out to me as being utterly beneath contempt (and it’s got nothing to do with Audrey being a balloon, funnily enough).

Who the hell does Andre think he is, giving himself a divorce JUST. LIKE. THAT. Pretty sure even mayors don’t have that power.

Also, how can he adopt Zoe out of the blue? (don’t forget: he’s barely even LIVED with her for one season, and not even say her name for THREE) He hasn’t asked her, and as far as I’m aware, they never even discuss it before the end of the season. 

Come to think of it, what does her ACTUAL father Mr Lee back in New York have to say about this bizarre situation? Is he going to fight this sudden whim of Andre’s in court? Is he dead? No-one knows, sorry. Expecting any kind of logic from Miraculous is like waiting for it to rain chocolate milk in the Sahara during the middle of summer, I guess.

Andre has a point with Audrey, of course... but who was it that caved into his daughter’s worst excesses while his wife was regularly away? Who let her have everything she ever wanted, so she became the spoiled brat we know of today? And who’s set to avoid prosecution for YEARS of political corruption, just because he now wants a quiet life as a movie director with his oh-so-perfect adopted daughter? Here’s a clue... he’s wearing a big sash! 

But suddenly ‘redeeming’ Andre and relieving him of all responsibility to his daughter’s conduct (not to mention avoid punishment), it just goes to know how DETERMINED the show is to vilify Chloe and give her the WORST possible outcome (even ahead of ACTUAL TERRORISTS like Gabriel) even at the expense of changing past events, and radically modifying other character’s personalities at the drop of a hat if it suits their painstaking ‘Chloe sux lol’ agenda. 

But seeing as they’re pretending Chloe was ALWAYS a complete monster with no moments of humanity now, at least they have form in this department. They must hope the audience has amnesia at best, or are complete fools at worse. Well, there’s nothing with MY memory Mr Astruc, and I may not be a genius but my IQ is comfortably three figures last time I checked. Better luck with the rest of the fanbase though!

You can just imagine Thomas personally BEGGING to animate that last shot of ‘Chloe Looking Worried’. Probably offered up the life of his firstborn grandchild. That ****ing *****... 

Anyway, please spare a thought for Chloe being forcibly taken away by her lifelong abuser on a plane to further damage her permanently, I guess. “Take Control’... yep, I’ve heard those words before...

All at the behest of ‘Father Of The Year’ Andre, who I suppose is now meant to be some kind of hero for subjecting his now estranged daughter to even more trauma at the hands of his despised ex.

But it’s all okay! He likes Zoe ‘the best’ you see, so he can quite happily turn off his conscience now that the show has seen fit to allow him to escape any kind of karma, and start a new life with no regrets. YAY!

This is Chloe’s last scene in the episode, the season and possibly last in the series as a whole. 

Gabriel gets a statue. Andre gets a fresh start. Chloe...

I’m sorry, I can’t even think about it. Did I mention I now HATE this show with the intensity of a million suns?

Because I do. And now you know why.

[she-karev]

Maya meets Andrew DeLuca (Maya x Carina Sweet Imagine)

Previous Part Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Station 19

Ship: Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca

Canon Episode: Season 4 Episode 3

AN: Here’s the final chapter guys! Let me know what you think and like and reblog.

Summary: Maya and Andrew talk and get along to Carina’s joy.

Words: 885

April 6th, 2020

Maya sips her coffee sitting in the middle of the table with Carina at one end and her brother, Andrew at the other as they enjoy their breakfast. The conversation shifted to Andrew’s first day at work.

“Wait so you didn’t correct them when they thought you were an attending? I’m not judging I’m just…no I’m judging just a little bit.” Maya says honestly causing Caring to laugh, “Don’t be mad, I tell people what their doing wrong for a living.”

Andrew chuckles amused, “I don’t blame you. None of them actually called me an attending when I came from the scene. I told them it was my first day and they took it and ran with it. I was busy with the traumas, and it probably didn’t help that I stalled college for four years and looked older than the rest of my class.”

“It didn’t help no.” Maya eats a piece of the French toast that causes her to moan at the deliciousness, “Okay that is better than sex.”

Carina scoffs at that with a smile, “That sounds like a challenge.”

Andrew chuckles lightly at how predictable his sister, “And now I lost my appetite.”

Carina rolls her eyes and tells Maya, “Pay no attention to him, he’s skittles when it comes to sex because he isn’t having any.”

Maya chuckles and corrects her, “It’s skittish, skittles is candy.”

“And my sister’s insult turned around on her, this is a good morning so far.” He says with a grin sipping his coffee and continues to talk to Maya, “So a female fire captain that is very impressive I’m sure your coworkers love you over there.”

Maya groans, “Not at first but then they eventually saw my leadership skills after a few bumps and a bear in the road.”

“She told me about that too, she said it was at the pit where she first saw you. She was with a patient, and you were carrying a nose you ran with from the woods at the time. I gotta say it sounds really badass.” Andrew says impressed.

Maya smiles at that compliment, “Well thank you, it was pretty badass. I also helped contain a bomb inside a hospital and delivered a baby during a blizzard but I’m not bragging.”

Carina grins, “It sounds like you are, and I was the one who helped you deliver that baby, without me calling you you would have dropped that little girl on her head.” Andrew laughs at that with Maya smiling knowing it’s true.

“I don’t do well with babies, not all of us have to deliver them from vaginas. Firefighters are usually trained to put out fires and break down doors with axes but that part I leave to you guys.” Maya points out.

“I guess it’s not a requirement for the Olympics either?” Andrew asks jokingly.

“No.” Maya says, “And if it was, I would probably be dead last which would be a first in my life.”

“I would win the gold.” Carina boasts causing her brother and girlfriend to laugh.

Maya’s phone beeps causing her to groan, “I gotta go my shift starts, I’m so sorry.”

Andrew shakes his head, “Don’t worry go save lives.”

“You too, it was really nice to meet you.”

Andrew grins, “It was really nice meeting you too. I can see why you’re the longest relationship my sister has ever had but it wouldn’t take much time to exceed the standard she set before you.”

Carina grins amused, “Again please ignore him.” Carina stands up as Maya approaches her and they kiss, “Be safe Bella.”

“You too.” Maya steps back and looks at the siblings with a grin, “I’ll see you both later?”

Andrew nods with a smile, “Absolutely, I would love to hear more about this baby in a blizzard and bomb in a hospital story.”

Maya chuckles, “I have plenty more stories to tell and hopefully more time to share them.” Maya leaves with an I love you to Carina who says it as well. The door closes as Maya leaves and the DeLuca’s are left in the apartment where Carina looks at her brother with an anxious look while he finishes his breakfast calmly.

“Well…?” Carina asks, causing him to look up.

“Well, what?”

Carina gives a ‘really?’ look at her idiot brother, “Did you like her?”

“Oh…she was okay.” Andrew says dismissively causing Carina to smack him with the dish towel over him teasing her. He chuckles and speaks seriously, “I like her, I really do she has my approval not that you need it but still. She is perfection as you said.”

“I know.” Carina states with a smile and does a little happy dance, her brother chuckles, “I’m really glad you two met.”

Andrew smiles, “Me too. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me…and you’ll be happy too Andrea.” He looks up surprised she’s turning this on him, “Just give it time.”

He sighs but nods gratefully, “Thanks…Do you have anymore of that toast?”

Carina chuckles at her brother’s hungry attitude but heads to the kitchen to serve him another slice happy the two most important people of her life finally met and love each other almost as much as she loves them.

[waterghoulcalamity]

a little lengthy but here are my predictions (or maybe expectations, in some cases) for next season of iwtv:

just like "the vampire lestat" begins with lestat reading interview with the vampire, the season is going to begin with louis reading lestat's book and possibly going to find lestat again

i wasn't sure if they were going to change the format of 2 time periods happening at the same time (the interview in louis apartment and the story and louis was telling) but i feel like it's the best way to do it, idk if they're going to have daniel interview lestat but i think it'd be interesting if they had lestat kind of post something he recorded of himself, am i the only one??

TW for SA // i believe they're going to go as far as they can with lestat's turning. some people say that lestat's SA in the books is purely metaphorical (because no penetration happens) but i would say no, that it is very explicit, biting is supposed to be this infinitively more intimate and pleasurable act than sex for BOTH the vampire and the victim in the books (because vampires can't have boners, apparently) and, since the whole reason magnus chooses lestat is because of his looks, i think we should be prepared for not only lestat's turning scene to be even worse than it was in the books, but the entirety of his stay with magnus as well, i won't go into detail of what happened but, well, you know

i think they will have lestat kill his father, which will give a whole new layer to lestat letting louis and claudia "kill" him, accepting louis knife in his throat. sam has said multiple times that his "death" was kind of a wake up call for lestat because he had been living at the peak of his chaotic behavior for too long, so i think it'd be interesting if they did that, because it would also make more painful why he never looked for louis and claudia, as in saying "i had to kill my own father and it was painful for me despite the fact that i hated him, and now i push you to go through the same pain because of my actions, i can't face you"

i hope, i HOPE, that they drop the incest with his mother. i think there are many ways they can make their relationship uncomfortably close without having resort to incest, please rolin i'm begging you

i'm manifesting that this season is going to be 12-15 episodes long, i'm willing to wait until 2026 for 12-15 episodes

pleaaaaseeee i want louis and lestat to be in that awkward "we are trying to be friends" stage but failing miserably because they're too possessive and could never be normal about each other

i think they're going to have armand find lestat at least briefly after the release of his book, it's going to be fun seeing what they have to say to each other. i don't quite think it's going to be like in the books were armand begs lestat to love him and let him stay with him but i do think they're going to keep some of those elements

speaking of armand, i think they're going to revisit that scene in magnus's tower with the three of them and they're going to reveal that armand was in lestat's head BEGGING him to go with lestat or something of that nature, like saying that all of this could've been avoided if lestat had loved him and it still could if he did, but lestat continued to reject him as he always did. idk if it was just me but i find assad's face in those scenes to be telling a story we don't quite understand yet

back to them meeting again in the modern times, i think armand is going to tell lestat about daniel and lestat is going to genuinely be happy for him (because they do keep a sort of friendship in the books after everything)

well, that is all. this thoughts keep circling my mind i think i needed to put them to rest, hopefully this will be enough but probably the only thing that can is s3 being released in this instant

[beebopboom]

The Angel behind the Curtain

The Metatron. A character we don’t know a lot about in the show but has become public enemy number 1 - funny isn’t it.

I’ve been putting off doing this for a while because I wanted to dedicate proper time and research into this character - who he is, what he is doing, and how he is being used. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past week or so and boy is it long. So consider this an introduction post to a series - the main parts are still under construction and review.

But here is a shorter part that didn’t really fit anywhere cleanly and was kinda just a side tangent my brain went on - so now it’s its own part. I know some of it has been discussed before but have some new additions with a sneak peak into what is to come

and for that we are going back into the Title sequence - yes I know I talk about it way too much.

So Mr. Floating Head

Obviously this has been linked to the floating head of The Wizard of Oz before

But I want to dive in a little further now that we have more instances of this in season two

Now I’ll admit it’s been a while since I have revisited the story so there might be more parallels I missed but for now I just want to focus on the wizard - with some light parallels

We get the Metatron as a floating head up in heaven during the trial -which would have been before/during episode one - where he task the archangels with finding Gabriel - and he almost seems amused about it.

When Dorothy and the others first meet the Great Oz he will only grant their wishes upon the defeat of The Wicked Witch of the West. Once they return back after succeeding they demand the Great Oz to fulfill his promises but Toto knocks down the curtain to reveal that the Great Oz is just some man. He then uses “humbug” to grant their wishes - kinda. Dorothy though is meant to join him on a hot air balloon so they can both go home - which she misses because she was chasing Toto. But enough of that

After Gabriel is found - then fucks off - the Metatron arrives in the bookshop with most not recognizing him until he prompts Crowley to “reveal” him. He then sends the archangels away with a “wait and see” about if they had done anything wrong - kinda granting their wish with them not getting in trouble. He then goes on to offer the Supreme Archangel position to Aziraphale and says to join him in going up to Heaven.

The Metatron is admittedly a better wizard than Oz - he for the most part removes his own curtain and makes sure Aziraphale is coming with him.

But you said we were going into the title sequence and you have just rambled about some old story parallels? Okok I’m going

I've talked before (here) about how those rickety walkways represent Heaven's plans/timeline for their version of Armageddon- but for this we are going to focus on the one in the theatre

Curtains are drawn - screen is burned - the way to the Second Coming revealed

I'm comparing this moment to the Metatron finally appearing in a corporation in front of the angels and revealing his name - the curtain pulled back.

At the last second the film is burned - right before they enter the lift the Metatron finally drops the act a little and reveals the name, The Second Coming.

And now on to the sneak peak for one of the things I will be doing a deep dive into - The Book of Enoch

I know Neil has said the Metatron has always been an angel but can’t throw the whole book away when he himself pulls from it

When we go through the burnt screen we see these mountains of junk and it is revealed they are walking up one that has a throne room on top.

In Enoch 1 he is given an angel guided tour of the cosmos and sees seven glorious mountains - three to the east, three to the south, one that was taller than the rest and like the seat of a throne with trees encircling it, one of which is identified as the Tree of Life - which is said to be given back to humans after judgement

I’m sensing some parallels but for now that is it - tune in later for some more Enoch and diving into the occult

Part 2 is up!!

[666writingcafe]

An Interview With Satan

Part Five of A (Not-So) New Series

Question One: Do you believe in one soulmate or having several great relationships?

My beliefs fall closer to the latter. One can have different soulmates for different aspects of their life, not just romantically.

Question Two: Looking back, what advice do you wish you could have given yourself as a young demon?

Don't shut people out of your life because you're afraid of hurting them.

Question Three: Do you have a certain place you’ve always wanted to explore but haven’t yet got the chance to do so?

Some of the museums in the human world, like the Smithsonian collection in Washington DC or the Met in New York City.

Question Four: Which art form would you like to excel in if you could learn it quickly?

Drawing. I can usually get a halfway decent base, but it always ends up looking like a bad cartoon in the end.

Question Five: What hobby have you been interested in but haven’t yet tried?

Sewing, oddly enough. I see some of the things Asmo and Levi create, and they look really cool.

Question Six: What kind of entertainment is your guilty pleasure?

Watching really cheesy and/or melodramatic soap operas. You know, the ones where a season is over a hundred episodes long and each episode ends on a cliffhanger.

Question Seven: What is a subject that you could discuss for hours on end without growing tired of?

The history of just about anything. That's why I've declared it as one of my majors at RAD.

Question Eight: What is the bravest act you have ever seen someone else carry out?

Can I tell you who I think the bravest person I've ever met is? (Sure.) MC. Each time I see them taking a risk, I think it's the bravest act they've ever carried out.

Question Nine: Do you enjoy collecting things or experiences?

Oh, experiences for sure.

Question Ten: Are you more intrigued by outer space or the depths of the human mind?

The depths of the human mind, particularly MC's.

Question Eleven: What’s a small act of kindness you think everyone should practice daily?

Not saying the first thing that comes to their head. For me, that is the angry, rude response, and I've come to learn that it's not the best way to handle most day-to-day situations.

The next set of questions require you to choose between two things. (I've done this sort of thing before. As long as your questions are not too silly, I'll be good.)

Question Twelve: Would you rather spend an evening watching the sunset or at a theater?

Why not both? (That defeats the purpose of "Would You Rather.") Hear me out: you go on a date with someone. It starts during the afternoon. After grabbing a bite to eat, you watch a movie or show at a theater, making sure you choose one that ends at around dusk. Then, you sit on a bench and watch the sunset as you talk about whatever you just watched. One thing leads to another, and you end up kissing your date as the sun finishes setting. (How romantic.) I've done that a few times. Always sweeps them off their feet. (So you've done this intentionally, then.) Of course. It makes it easier for them to do what you want. *pauses* Would it surprise you to know that Asmo taught me that? I try not to do it these days, because I know it's quite manipulative.

Question Thirteen: Would you rather lose an argument to make someone happy or make someone sad by winning it?

It truly depends on the person. If I don't like them, then I'm going to do everything in my power to win the argument and revel in their sadness. But if I care deeply about them, then more times than not I'll end up dropping the argument altogether, because it's not worth losing that person over something petty like that.

Question Fourteen: Would you rather wait for someone or keep them waiting?

I hate waiting for people, but I also know it's rude to keep others waiting, so I guess neither? (Can I speak freely?) Of course. You're the one conducting the interview. (You suck at "Would You Rather.") That's because I tend to overthink things. I'm kinda like Levi in that regard.

Question Fifteen: Would you rather be dumped by someone or be the one to dump them?

I'm often the one that dumps people, so I suppose that would be what I'd prefer out of the two options. (I should have kept my mouth shut.) It's fine. You wanted more direct answers, and I'm more than happy to comply. *pauses* You think I'm a heartbreaker, don't you? (A little, yeah.) Like I said, I don't really engage in that behavior anymore. Before, I didn't care about anyone I was seeing, so it was easy for me to detach myself from them. I couldn't do that now. I'm a lot tamer now than I was back then.

Question Sixteen: Would you rather have a partner with money but no sense of humor or a poor but witty one?

Money can't buy personality. Besides, I have enough connections that I can pretty much get whatever I want, so I don't need someone to provide for me.

Question Seventeen: Would you rather be a scientist or a painter?

Ideally, a painter, but as I stated earlier, I can't really draw, so that would leave the scientist.

Question Eighteen: Would you rather live forever in a peaceful village or a bustling city?

The village. Or, better yet, a barn on the outskirts of the village. The less people I have to deal with, the better for everyone involved.

Question Nineteen: Would you rather speak all the languages in the world or speak to animals?

Language is always evolving, so it's nearly impossible to learn and speak every single one. Plus, if I had the ability to talk to animals and have them understand what I was saying, I'd be able to take care of them better.

Question Twenty: Would you rather send a sexy text message or a romantic love note?

I'm a hopeless romantic, so a good, long letter written with quill and ink and closed with a wax seal is my preferred method of telling someone how I feel about them.

Question Twenty-One: Would you rather have the power to read your partner’s mind or to influence their thoughts?

If I had to choose, I'd merely read their thoughts. Not a big fan of entering someone's mind, because it's rare that they consent to that sort of thing. I'll never forget Belphie for what he did to MC while he was inside their head.

Question Twenty-Two: Would you rather jump on a trampoline or in a bouncy house?

This is going to sound incredibly silly, but I'm lowkey afraid of both. Those things can do some serious damage to one's body if they land wrong. Just thinking about it is making me anxious.

Question Twenty-Three: Would you rather have the ability to know every answer to a question or be able to ask tough questions and confuse others?

If I knew all the answers, then part of my life loses meaning. I like researching things. It brings me joy. Plus, I feel like I already confuse others with questions that I ask, so...

Question Twenty-Four: Would you rather kiss a pig or a donkey?

A pig. Unless it's a cat, I don't like getting fur in my mouth.

Question Twenty-Five: Would you rather live amongst the trees in the jungle or in an island cave?

The cave. It's better shelter than the trees would be.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[destinygoldenstar]

☀️Everyone In The Final Four Has Cold Blood☀️ - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 1 Episode 12 “Trials & Trip-ulations ”

Heyo!

Y'all probably thought I dropped the show after last episode.

No. I was just busy with life. That's why this took awhile to come out.

Final Four. Home Stretch.

I think I only like one of the four. XD

But that's usually how it is with Total Drama. That's why I'm never really bothered with none of my favs being here. The only time I was actually bothered with it was in Total Drama Action, but like, the reason there was because Harold and Lindsay genuinely would've made for well written finalists, while all the other options were ASS. Beth was a very unlikeable floater who did nothing all season, Courtney was a ruthless villain so it was obvious she wouldn't win, Owen was a finalist last season and was only there to be a mole, and Duncan was... well, Duncan. I like Duncan as a character, but not as a finalist. At least with how it was handled in that season.

So I fully expect the villains of these things to make it far, and the messy characters to make it far because... it's Total DRAMA. It's not Total FRIENDSHIP. This ain't My Little Pony.

I CAME HERE FOR DRAMA, DAMMIT.

As long as I can understand what the writers are going for with their Final Fours, I don't really care about Elimination Order. That's not a factor of 'bad writing', at least for me. I only hate it when it's blatantly obvious the writers didn't know what they were doing with their choices.

I don't think that's the case here. I called Ellie. I called Fiore. I predicted that. Alec and Miriam are a SHOCK. I thought Alec was gonna be an early boot. And Miriam completely went under my radar. But I DEFINITELY do not hate that she's still here.

So yeah, I think Elimination Order is a pretty overrated criticism for Total Drama. That’s just my opinion.

So yeah... let's see what happens in this Penultimate Episode.

WAIT.

OMG.

LOOK.

THERE'S A HEART CARVING ON THE WALL❤️😭

Guys.

Guys.

Episode 10 is not canon. Okay? That was some leftover recycled content from the Beta that OddNations accidentally put in that playlist. That's Beta content. The remake is canon. That episode is not canon. It is not official. Tom and Jake are FINE. They're FINE. THEY WORKED THINGS OUT. THEY'RE OKAY. THEY'RE HAPPY TOGETHER AND WORKING THROUGH THEIR ISSUES TOGETHER. NOTHING HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM. THEY'RE AT THE MOTEL RIGHT NOW CUDDLING AND BEING HAPPY AND ORDERING CHINESE FOOD.

THEY ARE FINE. NOTHING HAPPENED. ALRIGHT?!?!?!?!

Goddammit, they're not even here anymore. What am I even saying?

But I swear to god, whether it's this season or Season 3. It better end with Jake and Tom getting that Chinese Date.

I will FLIP OUT if that's actually what happens.

"Is it food?"

"No, better, it's letters from home!"

"Oh. Eh."

XD

Honestly, I'm not surprised she had that reaction.

Whoever Fiore's parents are, um... they should be in jail. That's all I'll say.

MIRIAM IS A CAT PERSON?!

10/10. Best character. She better win.

Its probably not plausible, but you know, I can hope.

Oh...

Oh that's sad...

Her son has a pride pin. Wow. No wonder her and Jake got along.

"I got a letter from my dad saying how proud he is. And... three unpaid bills. If my father's letter didn't motivate me to win, this definitely will."

GIRL.

You ALMOST make me feel bad for you.

ALMOST. I'm still mad about the death threat you gave Jake.

"Wow. You're faster than I thought."

"I mostly skimmed it. Don't act like you don't do it too when you find a book boring."

Damn.

Her family life is THAT bad.

"You really hate them, don't you?"

"No, I'm just not interested. I'm sure it's from my parents, blaming themselves for my behaviors like there's really something wrong with me. Anyway, I don't care. In a few days I'll be a millionaire and I'll have several slaves to do whatever I want."

UM-

Um... I don't want to be THAT person Fiore, but...

There IS something wrong with you.

I'm sorry, but age doesn't convince me of anything. You are an awful, psychopathic human being, and you should be put behind bars.

"She opened her feelings about us... it turns out that maybe, by trying so many times to stay together, I've only been hurting her."

"I hate to say I told you so."

I mean that was always gonna happen, right?

I mean Alec isn't a character that interests ME personally, and that's a complete me thing. But from what we've heard, he MIGHT be a shit family guy.

Not as bad as Peter Griffin, but you know what I mean.

"Regardless of whether I win or not, I'll move when I get back. Away from my wife. I now realize that the love in our marriage was lost a long time ago."

That's probably a good idea.

I mean, I'm a lot younger than this man. I'm not married. And my current relationship is actually WONDERFUL THANK YOU VERY MUCH. So, I can't really comment on this cause I can't relate to it.

Good for him though... I guess...

"You know, if you want to pay those bills, we have to vote Alec out."

THANK YOU.

HOW MANY EPISODES DID THAT TAKE FOR YOU TO REALIZE THAT ALEC CAN'T BE TRUSTED?!

"Don't worry, no matter what, I'm not voting for you tonight."

That's gotta be a lie.

Miriam, you gotta avenge Tom and Jake. You can't spare her.

"We can try to flip Fiore to our side."

HOW 'BOUT NO?!

I JUST REALIZED MIRIAM'S THE ONLY TEAL TEAM CHARACTER LEFT.

The Merge started with, what, FIVE of them, and now in the Final Four there's only ONE?! THAT'S CRAZY

I mean Ellie swapped to Teal that one episode, but you know what I mean. She originated from Purple, so whether or not she counts is debatable.

"Today's challenge will be played in pairs."

Oh how lovely.

Miriam is screwed.

"The teams will be random."

Oh boy. Here we go.

WELL DAMN. MIRIAM IS SCREWED.

Goodbye to all the nice characters. Nice knowing all of ya.

A villain is winning this season.

"I'm stuck working with Alec... again."

At least you're FORCED to this time. I can accept that.

"You guys gotta cliff dive into the area below!"

TOTAL DRAMA REFERENCE.

THE MOST ICONIC FIRST CHALLENGE OF THAT SHOW EVER.

*Gets a... suggestive ad*

Okay. YouTube. Why? I-I can't even talk about that without getting flagged. Stop it.

An ad like that is allowed on YouTube, and yet people get demonetized for saying the F word.

Aaaaaaaannnnnnddd you both are gonna feel that in the morning.

Not as bad as what happened to Harold though.

AIN'T NO WAY

OH MY GOD

AIN'T NO WAY

That's awesome.

10/10 reference. Love that.

Oh come on Miriam. I thought you had good aim.

Imagine if there were sharks here like in the Total Drama one.

"This is the only time in my life I will gladly commit child murder."

I DID give Miriam slay pass, so you know, she's just using it.

Blame ME for the child abuse in this episode. I'm the one who gave her the slay pass.

Technically I gave it to Jake, but he's not here anymore and HE gave it to Miriam, so...

"UGH, how I hate that *BLEEP*"

Oh god...

I WILL say, the swearing is inconsistent in this show.

In Total Drama, ALL swearing is censored.

With the exception of the 'uncensored' version of the show, the version I watch, where they can say 'shut up' or 'crap' or 'boobies', which I would argue are not even that bad. ALL severe swearing of Total Drama is censored.

In this show, it's NOT all censored. They've said stuff like 'asshole' 'shit' 'goddamn' 'bitch' and even 'fuck' a couple times. Very casually mind you. And like, anyone who's been in middle school can get used to that language so it doesn't mind me. (I actually don't use that language out loud in real life, it's just text that I have no problem using it.) But then you have Grett's F bomb censored in her elimination, and you have this being censored.

I get it, YouTube, pain in the ass regulations. But it's because of that a moment like this does not hit NEARLY as hard as, say, Lindsay cussing out Heather.

Yes her swearing is censored, but that's also what makes it catch you off guard, it's funnier, and it's EASILY one of the most iconic moments of the entire show.

I'm just saying, if you're gonna swear, SWEAR.

If you're not gonna swear, at least make the censorship consistent.

(Digital Circus is a WONDERFUL example of how to do this right)

OH GOD THAT WAS A HEAD SLAM

I want to say I feel bad for the six year old getting abused, but...

I don't.

"I'm not saying I called it, but Trevor, you owe me five dollars."

That's ANOTHER Total Drama reference.

In their penultimate episode of the first season, Chris and Chef made a bet on who would barf first from the dares the campers were doing.

That's a smaller detail people probably don't remember. But I DID.

I'm not a Total Drama expert. I don't know everything about this show. BUT. I DARE YOU to tell me with a straight face, brutally honest, that you legit found THIS reference to TD on your first viewing of this episode.

YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T.

I AM AN ACE AT THE TOTAL DRAMA KNOWLEDGE TEST.

YES I AM CURRENTLY BRAGGING, WHAT'RE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?!

*Patreons*

We're not even halfway through the episode, holy shit we are in for it with this one.

Oh the cafeteria is built! Wow!

They're definitely using this in Season 2.

(You guys want me to watch Season 2? Cause I can do that)

"Do you think she could be persuaded?"

Uh, how do I put that? You betrayed her, say, THREE TIMES?

That's a no.

"Of course. It'd be easier to beat a little girl like you than Miriam in the finale."

"TCH. THANKS DUDE. THAT REALLY MAKES ME FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF."

Fiore, you're worse than an old lady, how does that feel?

"Ellie, you have to stop winning these challenges."

"Uh... thanks, I'll just throw I guess."

"If you win, you'll go straight to the final with Alec. Think about your chances of winning against him versus with me or Fiore."

Yeah, that's a really good point...

Miriam's still gonna beat your ass in the finale, but still.

She's gonna slay Ellie SO HARD and it's gonna be SO EMBARASSING.

"I don't think she wants to go to the final with Alec knowing that she will lose."

Yeah.

I'm telling you, Fiore does not give a SHIT about Alec. She'll ditch him in a heartbeat.

I say that like I didn't see last episode...

Maybe she does care. But she'll still ditch him.

"I promise."

*Oreo ad*

I guess they're sharing Oreos with this promise.

W-what?

What am I watching right now??

"No Trevor that's not dancing you're having a seizure."

XD

"But dancing is a great way to relieve some stress and to have some fun, according to my horoscope it's the best way to express your feelings!"

Honestly, facts, as someone who uses Just Dance to workout.

That won Trevor some points for me.

"We spent years trying to have our own reality show and now our dream is finally a-a reality haha, see what I did there?"

Is this trying to make me care about these hosts?

It's too little too late, but I'll take it.

"No more wildlife so we can film in different areas without the activists getting all up in a bunch."

YOU ARE MURDERERS. I DO NOT FORGIVE YOU.

Even CHIRS MCLEAN, THE FATHER OF ALL SOCIOPATHIC HOSTS, ISN'T A MURDERER.

Though he has attempted multiple times.

"Dude, we've already lost three cameramen to the grizzly bears alone."

Is there REALLY no other solution to your problem?

FENCES? ZOOS? Anything??

"WE don't need to do it. Jensen will."

OH THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE.

Oh fire making. That's a Survivor thing, right?

I'm surprised Total Drama didn't do this.

I guess this sabotage is allowed. Okay.

I've seen worse cases in Total Drama, I guess.

Fiore just keeps getting SLAMMED.

And I do not feel bad for her AT ALL.

SHE JUST THROWS THE CHILD XD

Miriam, you are AWESOME.

"That hurt!"

"We won!"

Miriam is cold blooded, OMG

EVERYONE in this Final Four is cold blooded.

Oh it's that sound effect...

Should I put the 'Keep Reading' label here then????

I'm gonna do it.

"You and I can also work together to become the final two after that."

GODDAMN. MIRIAM, YOU'RE COLD.

Okay, this is DEFINATELY a Survivor thing.

"You cannot grab the top with your hands and your feet must be on the line."

Oh. Okay. I was gonna say 'just wrap your feet around the pole' but you can't do that.

"Sounds easy."

"For you, yes, cause you're small."

But she's a child, wouldn't that make her less capable of endurance than Ellie and Alec?

How are you already slipping? We just started!

I say that like I would do better. I probably wouldn't.

NO MIRIAM

"You're much lighter than me. Do you think you can last longer?"

Oh you're not slipping and trusting Ellie, are you?

You're a dumbass.

"But unfortunately, I can't have us winning this."

YOU DUMBASS.

Does Ellie have my forgiveness for this???

Um...

That's a debate. First you apologize for the death threat. THEN we'll talk.

"What if they can't agree?"

"In that case, you and Ellie would go to one last challenge to decide who gets eliminated."

Oh really?

Is that what we're gonna do?

...or is Fiore gonna ditch Alec's ass? Did I call it?

"I choose Ellie. And I won't change my mind."

Okay.

"Well... I..."

Moment of truth.

She's gonna ditch him.

"Alec... I really liked you, and that's dangerous, because feelings are for weak people."

OH.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH.

"I vote to take Ellie to the final."

I. FUCKING. CALLED IT.

😂

GET FUCKED, ALEC!!!!! GET! FUCKED!!!!!

"But after all I've done?! I protected you this whole game! I helped you win the zombie apocalypse challenge, saved your life in the cave, covered up your plans so no one would suspect you're a PSYCHOPATH, and you STILL eliminate me?!"

THAT'S ON YOU, YOU DUMBASS.

WHY WOULD YOU TRUST HER?!?! SHE'S A PSYCHOPATH! YOU KNEW THIS. YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN IT COMING.

"Yes, thanks for all that, but I don't need you anymore."

👏😂👏

SHE DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU.

WHAT DID I SAY?!

Yeah, she cares about literally nobody.

She WILL ditch these guys on the bus the moment she has the chance.

And she's gonna show no remorse doing it.

And when that happens I'm gonna be HOWLING.

WELL HERE I AM.

SHE DITCHED HIM, NO REMORSE, AND I AM HOWLING.

AWOOOOOOOOOOOO

I CALLED THIS.

"Oh come on Alec, out of everybody, you're the last one who should be talking about feeling betrayed."

GET. HIS. ASS.

"This doesn't concern you. Keep it to yourself, Ellie."

You betrayed her three times. She DOES get a right to say that!

See, THIS is a good moment of Ellie ROASTING someone who fucking DESERVES IT.

"Your parents were right about you. You are a mistake."

"Oh. I know. And I don't care. Oh, and I bet you'd know a lot about making mistakes."

AWOOOOOOOOOOOO

I do not feel bad for Alec at all. Let's be real. HE DESERVED THIS.

YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PUT YOUR FATE IN THE HANDS OF THIS PSYCHOPATHIC CHILD. THAT IS ON YOU.

GOODBYE, SIR.

🎉FINAL THREE!!!🎉

We're really going the TD Reboot route with this, huh?

It's an ALL WOMEN finale, too! That is a TREAT.

Total Drama never had an all women finale. They had ONE finale with both finalists being boys, i.e Revenge of the Island. But NO all women finale.

Okay, that was the episode.

GOOD LORD, THAT ENDING FELT GOOD.

I'm sorry, but after FOUR eliminations with three of them being my favs and the previous two eliminations BREAKING ME and DEPRESSING ME respectively, I NEEDED THIS.

I NEEDED A BOOT THAT WAS STRAIGHT UP SATISFYING.

I don't hate Alec or anything, he's just not one of my favs. I feel like I've reacted to his scenes the least of the Merge characters.

I think my take on his is Objective vs Subjective.

Objective he's a good character with a somewhat compelling character motive of his family, and a nice dynamic with Fiore. Plus he's one of the few characters to not be so overdramatic. So I can see how that would appeal to some people. (Idk how many Alec Stans there are)

Subjectively I just don't find him as interesting as some of the others. One reason being I can't relate to his story and struggles, which is completely personal as I've never been through any of that. Second, I'm just personally more invested in characters with more emotional range to them. In Total Drama, I expect characters to be, well, full of drama. So the messier more dramatic characters catch my eye more than someone who stays away from a lot of the drama.

But I can also see how people who hate the drama would like Alec. (Why you watching Total DRAMA if you hate drama then? Not shaming, just asking)

He's a nice character. But for me, he's a dirty backstabber, he's an assistant to a psychopath, he's implied to be horrible to his family, so yeah, FUCK HIM, GOODBYE.

Next episode is the finale, so we're almost done with the season! Yay!

Ellie and Fiore, I called as finalists since the Merge.

Fiore's the villain, so of course she'd be a threat in the finale.

I would maybe have considered the idea of her being fourth like what the TD Reboot did. BUT the TD Reboot had another character that was willing to play dirty in Julia's place, and Alec's got NOTHING on Bowie, sorry not sorry. (Bowie's my favorite TD Reboot character)

Ellie, I called since the Merge. Compelling motive to want to win. She had Gwen energy. Well, Gwen energy but much dirtier with some of her tactics. Some tactics I hate, but that's subjective. I can see her winning, honestly. I said this before. She screams 'winner' energy.

Miriam is a SHOCK. I... WOW.

I never hated Miriam, but she definitely grew on me after Episode 5. I see Ellie winning but I'm personally on Miriam's side. She's just a sweet, sassy, capable, and wholesome lady with some great dynamics with other characters.

Idk why, but Miriam never screamed 'finalist' for me. She was always under my radar in terms of the thought of 'who could win this'.

BUT, I will say, I DEFINATELY DO NOT HATE THIS.

Miriam is a good finalist choice.

Anyway, idk if this will get any attention because of the Season 3 finale, but hey, I can continue these if you guys seem interested and entertained by them.

[queers-gambit]

The Inky Green Council

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: the Greens gather and make their first move. you’re the inky black spot in a sea of emerald.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 9.6k+

warnings: spoilers, cursing, whatever else, not edited! canon-level incest, violence, dialogue, basically the whole of episode nine, author is also slightly confused 'cause she's working backwards. ��️major season one, episode nine spoilers

"Gods be fucking good!"

"Don't stop! C'mon, my Dragon, get there! Get there!"

"'S too much, love! Shit!"

"Bit longer - almost there!"

"Oh, fuck! C'mon!"

"THERE!" You grinned in triumph, pausing to pant when the new chase lounge was properly in place beneath the window. Aemond panted heavily after doing most of the lifting, almost glaring at you but you saw the amusement beneath his facade.

"You're sure?" He asked, slumping into the side of the lounge.

"Yep," you nodded at him, hands to your hips with pride as you looked at the new arrangement. "Or perhaps it would look better over there?" Aemond groaned your name with reprimand, making you giggle. "I am only jesting, love, I like it where it is, under the window!"

"Good, good, 'cause 's not moving again," he sighed as he dropped into the cushioned seat. He looked around for a moment, stroking the imported velvet, chuckling lightly, "You know, I must admit, kinda glad you talked me into this material."

"See?" You smiled at him, taking the comfortable position on your husband's lap - where the arm of the chase cradled your back and his ribcage; letting your legs rest across his lap as his arm wrapped around your shoulder blades. "Nice, isn't it?"

He sighed with defeat, "It is."

"Do not sound so grumpy, you can admit I had a good idea that you're actually liking," you teased him, arms moving to lock around his neck. "Hmm? C'mon, let me hear you say it."

Aemond chuckled, "It was a good idea, my love. Nicely done."

"Thank you," you chirped, leaning in to peck his smirking lips. "Just wait until you fuck me on it - there's plenty of positions on this piece of furniture alone. You're welcome in advance."

"Is that why it's shaped as it is?"

"Mhm," you hummed with a smirk. "It'll come in handy when I'm heavier with child."

"Why wait to test it, then?" He smirked, leaning in to trap your lips in a kiss. He hummed with satisfaction, savoring the taste of you after a long day and night.

"Because it is late, my sweet," you whined, letting him kiss you again.

"But you look delectable, my Princess," he purred, tugging your hips easily to swivel so you sat forward on him. His own lifted to allow you room; both readjusting to the new position of your straddle. Aemond sighed and let his hands drift to your stomach. "You're truly sure? This is not some dream we are sharing?"

"I would not have told everyone if I wasn't sure," you nodded, hands softly laying over his. "I've known for longer than I care to admit."

"You did not wish to tell me?"

"It's not that," you sighed. "I just worried myself for nothing. I let my own thoughts get the best of me, I know it was wrong. But the Maester told me something that I could not rid from my mind."

"Would you like to clue me in, or must we first play a guessing game?" He whispered with a smirk, chuckling lowly.

You scooted forward so your hips were pressed together, but kept his hands on your waist. He let his hands drift to caress your lower belly, and you admitted, "Apparently... If a woman is to lose a babe in the womb, it is usually often within the first three months of conception. So, I did not wish to tell you in case something happened and I... And I lost the babe. I don't think I could handle telling you I was with child, and then lost that child, Aemond."

Aemond's brows furrowed, making you reach up to caress his cheek. "But what if you had lost them, pet? I wouldn't have known, wouldn't have been able to help you."

"I don't know if you or I can help what happens," you whispered. "At this point, it's all internal and by the fate of the Gods. If you'd like, perhaps we could visit the Maester in the morning and we can discuss possibilities?"

"There are more?"

"There are many symptoms that even I did not know about," you chuckled lightly, reaching back to release his eye patch. You caressed his cheek with one hand as the other pulled the leather strap away, letting it fall to the cushion beside you both.

"Like what?" He sighed, doing better about being completely bare with you. It wasn't an overnight thing, and through your marriage, Aemond often waned in his comfort at letting you see his scars.

He was doing much better now, thankfully.

"Well, like, insomnia - "

"The bloody hell is that?"

"Thought you were the educated brother," you teased gently, leaning in to peck his lightly-pouting lips. "It is a new term, my love, even the Grand Maester was nervous to use it. But it in essence means trouble sleeping - either falling asleep, staying asleep, or both."

"Well, whenever my love needs a nap, she'll have one," he promised with a tease, pecking your lips.

"And there's accounts of nightmares," you pouted.

"Hmm," he considered for a moment. "Then you shall never sleep alone. I would not let you endure this by yourself."

You smiled at him. "And when I'm feeling bloated, and I'm having cramps or feeling gassy? With nosebleeds? When my skin turns to that of a young lad's? Not to mention I'll have heightened senses of smells, taste, touch..."

He shrugged, "You act as if I am going to turn away from you. You're creating life, my sweet girl. Whatever you need, I'm here for - even if that's just laying in bed and complaining. I'm okay with it."

You pouted dramatically at him, "How can you be real?"

His eyes rolled, "Well, 's not like you got pregnant by yourself, is it? Least I can do is be here for you. I cannot bare this weight for you," his hands caressed your stomach again, but with meaning, "but I will walk this path with you at whatever capacity you'd like. Ask it of me, pet, and you will have it."

"Careful, husband, or I might get used to your spoiling."

You grinned when Aemond blanched at you, hands dropping to bounce on the material of the chase lounge you sat on. "This wasn't spoiling enough to convince you? What of the gems that I wrap around your neck, hmm?" He let a hand drift up to pet a fingertip along your collarbone. "Do they convince you?"

"In honest, I think I prefer your hand, actually," you teased, taking hold of his wrist to guide him; where his finger naturally curled around your neck to press to your pulse points.

"Makes for a pretty necklace. But I prefer those pearls I got you."

"Oh," you gasped, pulling his hand away as he laughed at your change of attention, "those are exquisite - I should wear them more often!"

"You should," he agreed. "Now, are you truly tired? Or do you have more furniture we need to move?"

"You say that like I was the one who made the late-night delivery," you scoffed gently at him, watching his lips spread in a grin. "But be serious for a moment with me?"

He nodded in agreement, clearing his throat, "All right, about what, my sweet wife?"

"Seeing the Maester with me," you sighed. "We can both hear what he's to say about pregnancy, and perhaps, we can ask Helaena together about her own experience."

"I know parts of what to expect," he sighed.

"But then we'll know in full - eliminates surprises, right?"

"He'd still be at our call should we worry," he grumbled, letting his head lean back with a sigh. His eye closed and you leaned forward to nuzzle under his chin. "We'll seek him out in the morning, pet."

"Thank you," you whispered, turning your chin up so you could peck the underside of his own. "Does that mean bed?"

"Hmmm," he considered, but otherwise didn't move. So you didn't, either. His arms tightened, and you snuggled closer to let your thighs squeeze his hips in a hug. "All right," he finally relented, "you sure you don't want to break this new thing in?"

You chuckled, "Can I be on top?"

"Oh, you devilish woman - c'mere," he barked a quick laugh, using his hips to jut you upwards; one hand catching your cheek to guide your lips in for a soul-sucking kiss.

"No, no, no, no, Aemond, no, no, no, wait, no, wait, Gods damn it, why must you have the longest bloody legs!?" You leapt off the exam table, sparing a glare to the Grand Maester - who had just offered condolences on Aemond's Father's passing, which made the Prince spur from the room. "Aemond, wait! Hang on! Sweetheart? Hey - wait! No, just hang on, wait!" You begged, grabbing your outer dress on your pursuit after your husband. He was quick in his strides and his hands had formed into fists, making you yank the sleeves of your dress on but otherwise leave it as you reached for him. "Wait!"

"For what?" He demanded sharply, rounding around on you suddenly. You reared back a step or two - needing a second to readjust as you were not often on the receiving end of his anger.

"What the hell's happening?"

"What the hell is the bloody Maester on about!?" He countered. "You heard the same as I did - what inference would you assume?"

You sighed, taking both his wrists in yours as his fists refused to lessen. You whispered, "I would assume the King has passed, just as you, husband."

"Then we need confirmation," he decided, turning to head down the hall but with one hand lessening its tight fist to let your own slip into it. "I need to know - something's wrong, the castle's dark."

"I've noticed," you sighed, keeping stride with him and giving up hope to lace your dress up properly. "Who should we ask?"

"Mother," he decided, and after demanding from a few servants where she was after not finding her in her quarters, he was told she was seen heading for Heleana's room - and away you went.

Aemond was swift and got away from you when you were distracted in trying to thank the scared servants he cornered, and he arrived in the room first. You were just steps behind him, but he was only two strides through the door - froze in place - as he stared at his mother.

Based on the look she returned, Aemond understood the Maester's words were warranted - and condolences should be shared. "Aemond," you spoke softly, taking his hand in one hand as the other wrapped around his bicep. "W-We should leave them be, c'mon, love. Come with me," you tried to coax him but your mother-by-law was interfering.

"No," Alicent nodded to you, standing slowly. "There is something you three should know... Best we do it now, together..."

You sighed and let go of your husband to spy out the open door, finding the hall empty, and then shutting it firmly in place. "What is it, Your Grace?" You asked when you returned to your husband's side, whose arm slithered around your waist to constrict.

You let him, hoping your touch still brought him comfort.

"There is... Grieving news," she informed to three of you; hands nervously fiddling with themselves. "And I regret to inform you that Viserys," she paused, as if the words choked her, "h-has passed on in his sleep this night."

Your mind whirled with confusion - because wasn't your grandsire just fine when you saw him? Blinking a few times, you quickly looked up at your husband and let your free hand press into his abdomen. "Dead?" Helaena asked for clarification while Aemond stared at the ground with concentration.

"Yes, sweetling," Alicent nodded.

Your chin lifted deftly as you sensed the next words that were sure to come. And when the Queen met your eyes, and your husbands hand tightened on your waist, you knew.

"I must ask the impossible of you, dear girl," she nodded with meaning, "and this information must not leave this room - "

"You are questioning my wife's loyalty - again - now of all times?" Aemond snapped, making the arm around your waist tighten more - as if possible.

"Aemond, you must understand," Alicent begged, sighing heavily after. "This is of the utmost importance because Viserys implored to me his final, dying wish."

"And what was that?" Aemond asked stiffly.

"That Aegon be King," she revealed, and your heart turned to stone in your chest.

"I beg your pardon?" You couldn't help but utter. "The King... Viserys... On his death bed... Said for Aegon to be King? Not my Mother? Who's been heir for the past twenty-some years?"

"I know it is a shock," Alicent allotted.

"It is more than shocking, Your Grace," you whispered but your mind was playing catch-up with your heart - making you quick to recover. "It is hard to swallow this information so suddenly. But should you swear to me that this is true, I will do what I can to understand it."

"I swear it to you, Princess," she mustered. "And I know this news is heavy and grieving but I need to know where you stand on this. Here, and now."

You let your chin incline as her eyes bore into your own. "Before the Seven, I took vows to stand by my husband. That has not changed. Though it grieves me deeply to learn of my grandsire, and that my mother is to be replaced in succession, I will stand by him. Aemond is whom with my loyalty lies - like usual."

Alicent sighed as you felt Aemond's spine go rigid with pride.

"I would expect nothing less," She admitted with a nod. "Then forgive me for imploring again, but this news truly need not leave this room. Even to your mother, sweet girl," Alicent directed at you.

"Hmm," you mimicked your husband, feeling his hand flex with warning, "I did figure as much. I understand how pressing this is, Your Grace, this news will not fall from my hand - nor lips."

"Can we be done questioning my pregnant wife, now? Have we established her loyalty yet?" Aemond snipped, stepping between his mother and wife. Traditionally, that is a dangerous place to dwell and you did your best to keep him out of it. "What's to happen now? What are we to do - wait?" He asked, changing his tone, and the direction of the conversation.

"We cannot yet find Aegon, he's not in his chambers," Alicent informed nervously, starting to pace. "We need to locate him before anyone else - it is paramount."

"Who is looking for him?" You wondered.

"As of now, Ser Criston," she nodded, making you glance at Aemond.

"We will wait with you," he decided to his mother.

"I should go find the babies," Helaena distracted herself from her inner monologue, setting her stitch work aside.

"Do you wish for me to go or stay?" You whispered to Aemond in High Valyrian - knowing Alicent did not speak the language, nor understand it despite the years as 'being' a Targaryen.

"Always stay with me," he whispered back as his sister hurried out the door. Aemond sighed when he watched his mother pace, leading you towards the hearth. "Sit, love," he nodded towards one of the chairs. "Get off your feet a moment."

"No, 's all right," you assured, gently pressing his chest so he sat in the chair just behind him. You smiled at him as you finally had time to do-up your dress at last, one of his hands lingering by your thigh to reach out and graze against you at will.

Should you need him, he was there to assist you; maybe to provide a pressing finger to allow for a perfect bow from your laces, maybe just to nod in approval when you turned in presentation. He did so with a smirk of mild amusement.

As the morning slugged forward, you and Aemond waited with the Queen for Ser Cole to return. He waited in the chair, staring into the fire with contemplation as his fingers teased your own; mindlessly fiddling as you chose to remain standing.

When the door opened, Cole entered silently and made the Queen turn in question from her pacing. You watched silently as Aemond continued to stare forward, mutely pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your hand that he held. "Prince Aegon's not to be found within the castle walls, Your Grace," Cole informed as he shut the door. Stepping forward, he continued, "Your father has sent Ser Erryk into the city to find him."

Aemond listened to the words, his fingers stalling between yours.

"Ser Erryk knows Aegon. He has the advantage," The Queen muttered in despair.

Your eyes narrowed when Cole's head turned to look directly at your husband, who's head tilted in the slightest to clock the Knight's motion and then turn back to the flames. Your free hand rose to slide into the hair at the base of Aemond's neck.

Neither of you spoke with words as your glare hardened into your husband's the moment his eyes rose to meet yours, truly not wanting him to go looking for his brother on some wild goose chase. Maybe you just did not want to be left behind, but his gaze did not linger and soon, returned to the flames for stoic consideration.

Alicent approached Cole with a rush to her step, lowering her voice, and telling him, "I trust again to you, Ser Criston, and to your loyalty. Aegon must be found, and he must be brought to me. The very fate of the Seven Kingdoms depends on it." You wanted to throw your shoe at her head - knowing she was consciously usurping the Throne from your mother but for your life's sake, you would play along. Plus, as all kids, your husband was his mother's pawn, caught in this brewing war that was not truly his own. You could not abandon him; and could never convince him to leave his family or the cause, so, for now, you listened and made your mental notes. Alicent whispered, "Everything you feel for me as your Queen..."

"I will not fail you," Cole assured with determined adoration.

"I'll come with you," your husband decided from his seat still; making your eyes widen, fingers to tighten in his, and for your head to snap down to look at him.

"That would not be my desire, Aemond," Alicent told him, turning for her son.

"Nor my own," you told your husband pointedly, watching him swiftly stand from the ornate chair. You sighed and let him turn for his mother, glaring into the fire with hands on your hips.

"If anything has happened - "

"Cole needs me, Mother," Aemond cut her off, arms laying over one another to grasp the other's elbows. "Ser Erryk isn't the only one who knows Aegon's doings." You wanted to scoff with indignation, but Aemond smirked wider, "Besides, my wife grows restless and will accompany us. She knows this city best."

Alicent turned her head to look from you over to Cole, who nodded with acceptance - understanding she was silently asking him to watch over you both, because while you didn't always like it, Alicent treated you as a part of the family after needing time and reason to warm up to you. Aemond's eye did not stray from his mother as she weighed in her mind the options; second son waiting for approval and leave.

When his mother nodded mutely, he returned the motion before sighing and letting go of her with one final look. His eye darted up to meet your own while offering his hand, "C'mon, love. With me."

You didn't get to say anything to Alicent as the moment Aemond's hand was in yours, he was pulling you to stalk out of the room so you could prepare yourselves for a search around the city for the 'heir' to the Iron Throne. Now that Viserys was gone, it was optimal time for Aegon's ascension as the realm cannot be without a ruler.

"What was that?" You asked in High Valyrian under your breath as Cole followed you both at a distance.

"That was me getting you out from under the castle's spies eyes. You're safest with me, my love," he answered in the Common Tongue.

"Say 'castle's spies eyes' five times fast and I'll suck your cock right here, right now," You teased, eyes rolling with humor when his gait faltered slightly - making Cole offer only a mild look of confusion. "I'm only jesting, my Gods, Aemond!"

"Hmm," he perked a single brow, leading the way into your room; slamming the door. You both changed quickly as Cole made himself presentable for the adventure - leaving your husband to sigh into the privacy of your shared quarters, "We'll need your help, love."

"We both know the back allies," you shrugged meekly, lacing on a simple dress that wouldn't accentuate your figure - allowing you to blend in with the crowds and people of the capital. With a hooded cloak and laced boots, you were ready; briefly reminded of your youth when you liked to sneak out and mingle amongst the people. "We'll make do with us two."

"But you know them best."

You nodded, "This might be true... But there's one problem, love."

"What?"

"The White Worm."

He sighed through his nose but did not otherwise respond.

Cole had chuckled earnestly when Aemond all but instantly bought you something to eat; keeping an arm around you as you picked at the sweetly baked bread to pop pieces in your mouth. Your husband knew you well, and he knew how to keep you both close and occupied - avoiding any idea of you wondering off.

Look, sometimes you got distracted, okay? Not your fault that you - sometimes - went off trail. It wasn't a crime!

And with your pregnancy nose and belly, you had been caught once or twice sneaking into the kitchens because you smelled the freshly baked goodies. So, Aemond, The Good Husband, bought from a vendor, and handed it over to you before taking the lead - ensuring he could keep you within his hold.

"Where to first?" Cole wondered, readjusting his stitched cap as he grew restless of not knowing their destination. The Knight did not often patrol the city after his promotion to King's Guard - then to Queen's Guard - but whatever.

Some disguise is was.

Yet it wasn't much better than your husband - who was always recognizable due to your little brother maiming him almost a full decade ago. He only wore a muted color hooded cloak over his white locks; something unwittingly similar to you.

Couples that match together, stay together. It's proven.

Through a mouth of sweet bread, you offered, "Pabably the Stweet of Swilk."

"Oh, my Gods," Aemond whispered, tightening his arm as you snickered gently. To Cole, he directed, "Aegon brought me to the Street of Silk," he enunciated, making you silently mock him, "on my thirteenth nameday. It was his duty as my brother, he said, to ensure I was as educated as he was."

Your eyes rolled at Cole when you three came to a halt at an intricately carved door, and your husband took hold of the large, iron knocker. He paused to spare Cole a look, finishing his thought, "At least... That's what I understood him to mean."

He used the knocker to rap three times as you took another distracting bite, stood perfectly between the men, and looking between them with mild interest.

"I don't follow," Cole responded.

"He said, 'Time to get it wet'," Aemond leaned in to tell Cole, chuckling dryly when your hand swung to jab into his shoulder.

You swallowed your bite just to reprimand, "That's disgusting."

"Every woman is an image of the Mother, to be spoken of with reverence," Ser Criston Cole replied as if it were a rehearsed response, looking around you three with caution before reaching for the iron knocker and rapping three more times.

Impatient, are we?

You glared at Aemond and pointed at Cole, "That's a man's response."

"Oh, do I offer you insult, wife?" He teased, making your eyes roll with humor.

When the doors opened, you looked the woman up and down as she asked, "What can I do you lot for? You lost or something?"

"Or something," you replied first with a smirk.

Criston Cole took the lead, "Sometime last night, we... Misplaced our drinking companion. Knowing that he has been, in the past, a patron of your fine establishment, we thought to inquire here as to his whereabouts."

But the woman eyed you all with mistrust before demanding of Cole, "And describe him."

"That is a delicate matter," Cole informed quietly. With a glance to your husband, Cole leaned in to mutter in the Mistress' ear, "You see, the man we seek is the young Prince Aegon. And I may trust, I hope, in the discretion of your trade."

You took another bite of sweet, baked bread as the Woman of the House scoffed softly through her nose, informing you three, "The Prince is not here."

After you swallowed, you asked, "Has he been here, Lady? Earlier, perhaps?"

"Quite a bit earlier," she told you. "Years ago, in fact."

"Hmm," you shrugged a bit, sharing a look with your husband.

"But more recently?" Cole demanded, understanding the games being played. It was known the Prince Aegon had insatiable desires; and King's Landing was flush with little white-haired bastards.

"He does not frequent the Street of Silk," the Mistress informed stiffly. "His tastes are known to be... Less discriminating."

"Meaning what?" Cole asked what you all wondered.

Instead of answering, the Mistress smirked and tisked her teeth lightly. "I wish you luck, good Ser. And my best to your friend," she pointed to Aemond before she even turned her head.

You watched his head bow under her heated gaze, understanding if there was one weak spot of your husband's, it was anything pertaining to his appearance. He was vastly insecure since the loss of his eye, and any sort of unsavory attention on him made his stomach quiver gently.

You cocked your head, taking another slow bite as Cole turned and stalked away, and the Mistress eyed your husband, purring, "How you've grown."

With perked brows, you paused to blink away the shock and then bite your bread to hold between your teeth; freeing your hands to literally shove the Lady of the House back behind the threshold and then yank the wooden door shut with a clang while yelling some obscenity that was only vaguely understood.

"Hmm," your husband hummed when you snatched his hand, turning to lead you both after Cole. "Jealousy's not a good look to wear, my sweet wife."

You grumbled and ripped the bread from your mouth to chew as his arm came around to secure your shoulders. "And now?" Cole asked.

"We follow her," Aemond nodded, letting you take the lead.

Cole nodded, following beside your husband. "It seems you were mistaken as to Aegon's habits."

Your eyes rolled, "Or perhaps the citizens of King's Landing are loyal to their own - especially those who pay their dues."

"He could be in the hands of mercenaries," Aemond listed, "on a ship to Yi Ti. He could be dead."

You eyed the people you passed by, listening to the two men just behind you. Cole responded, "Let us hope, for your Mother's sake, that is not the case."

You peered down alleyways in search for the slumped-over Prince.

But Aemond grew irritated the further into the city you passed, snipping, "Here I am, trawling the city, ever the good soldier in search of a wastrel who's never taken half an interest in his birthright."

Both you and Cole had to pause in step to turn back when Aemond came to a halt in the middle of the walkway, almost seeing the steam rising from him as his anger stewed. "'Tis I the younger brother, who studies history and philosophy, 'tis I who trains with the sword, who's married to a proper Lady, who rides the largest dragon in the world. 'Tis I who should be - "

"Hush yourself, now, you speak dangerously, my love," you insisted, stepping closer to him. "Aemond," you sighed with reverence, knowing his pain and irritation. Though you had no desire to be queen, you knew your husband often let his mind blur with anger over how often he's overlooked. "This is not always to be our struggle. Hey? This will not always be reality, but for now, it is your brother's and we have responsibilities to uphold."

Cole nodded, stepping up behind you as you smoothly folded into Aemond's side - the Knight assuring, "I know what it is to toil for what others are freely given."

"Hmm," your husband considered, lip curling; head turning to direct his attention to the side. "And we can't find him, Cole. You are a decent man with no taste for depravity." This made Criston look around the alley for spying ears; something you often worried over. "His secrets are his own... And he's welcome to them." Though, you did not anticipate the next moves; stepping back when Aemond neared his mouth towards Cole's ear, muttering, "I'm next in line for the Throne. Should they come looking for me, I intend to be found."

You sighed through your nose and forced yourself to walk away, still looking for your brother-by-law. Your anger bubbled as you had to play the loyal fool; but the truth was, any talk of stealing your mother's Throne made you uneasy. Yet with your husband, you could not hide away any emotion for he always saw through you, and moments later, his hand slid into your own.

You tightened your grip to assure him you were still with him. He could feel the tension, and something in his gut prickled to fix it.

"A moment, Ser Cole," Aemond nodded to the Knight; making you pause before you could exit the alley.

Cole looked you both over before agreeing with a nod, moving several feet away; and for Aemond to turn so he hovered over you. "You're tense," he noted.

"You speak dangerously," you muttered.

"I speak truth."

"You speak of usurping the Throne," you snipped, "something I'd rather you leave to your brother. You're not wrong, my husband, and you are the better fit from Aegon, but that does not make any of this right. My mother is the rightful heir, and you know it - deep down, I know you do."

"Yet neither of us dare speak it now," he muttered.

"So instead you speak of taking the Throne for yourself?" You demanded harshly. "Gods be good, Aemond. I did not think you daft! Aegon is next in line, and whether he wants it or not, your family intends to instate him over my mother. You and I are both bound by law, obedience, loyalty, and duty to stand at their side - less we risk death. Less we risk execution. Please, do not let us talk of this longer than we must - it will not be the resolve we want."

He sighed and his eye dropped to soak you in. "You'd make the most perfect fucking Queen."

"And you a just King, but that is not the reality we live in right now. If we want to see tomorrow, you and I are to play a part."

He nodded, licking over his lips, "My words are safe with you?"

"As mine are with you - but speak no more to Ser Cole. Please. For my sake at the very least. I cannot say what he would keep secret, and I do not wish to risk us further than we are."

He nodded, sighing, "He's chalked it up to sibling rivalry I'm sure."

"With reason," you nodded. "Just tread lightly, my love."

Aemond nodded again, kissing your forehead. "Thank you, pet."

"I'm always here for you," you promised softly, lacing your hand with his. "But for now, let us try to locate your fucking brother."

He let you turn the pair of you to continue onward. Cole joined you both, and as a trio, scoured the streets for the white-haired Prince. Through alleys, around turns, over courtyards - you all traveled, in the hopes of locating the Prince before the Hand's party finds him.

However, some hours into your search, you came to a halt with a suspicious Aemond behind Ser Cole - who was staring off into the crowd of one of the local taverns. "My Prince, my Princess," he spoke softly, earning both your attentions. He nodded pointedly, and as you rocked onto your toes for a vantage point, both you and Aemond made out the bodies of Ser Erryk, twin brother, Arryk, and the Hand of the King - Otto Hightower - talking to the White Worm.

"Oh, that's interesting," You smirked to the lads, making them both look to you.

"What is?" Cole asked.

You decided to keep the information on the mysterious woman to yourself for now, replying, "It looks like a meeting of sort. They're buying information, and we know who the Hand seeks..."

"They're buying Aegon's location," Aemond nodded.

"We'll follow them," you smirked, landing back on your flat feet. When one of the twins offered the woman in royal silks a sack full of money, your smirk widened, "See? Work smarter, lads, never harder. C'mon, this way," you crept around the tavern, keeping them close to the walls as you yourself blended in much better. You risked getting closer, busying yourself amongst the people, and just as you thought the White Worm spotted you, she was revealing the Prince's location.

The Knighted Twins were sent to collect the Prince, and you hurried back to Cole and Aemond - snagging both of their wrists as you sped past them. "Hang on!" Aemond snipped, hustling to follow you. "What's going on?"

"The Prince is being held in the Sept, and if we're smart," you quipped back over your shoulder, letting them go to follow on their own, "they will retrieve the Prince and we'll steal him away. Come now."

Aemond smirked at Cole as you lead them down new passage ways - leading with confidence because now that you had a definitive destination in mind, you could easily navigate the complex city to cut down on time.

"How is it you know the city so well?" Cole wondered.

You mused, "You know how I was as a child."

He snorted, "Unruly."

"I prefer rebellious, Ser," you corrected with a sharp glance. "I believed in knowing the people you're to govern, so, I would wonder the streets on sleepless nights."

"She cannot be stopped," Aemond shrugged after. "Best to just follow her now."

Cole nodded and around bends you went. Eventually, you arrived at the Sept, and peered around. "Stay here," you spoke to the two. "I'll see if they're in."

"And if they are?" Cole asked.

"Then I'll signal to you and just blend in," your eyes rolled. "This is not my fight, this is where you two come in. So, make yourselves scarce from sight. We'll have the element of surprise."

"Pending you're not seen," Cole snipped.

"Do not underestimate my wife, Cole," Aemond stepped in, hand moving to your waist to stand chest-to-chest with you. Cole actually backed off a step when he noted the matching glares.

"My Prince," he grumbled, nodding with agreement before turning away.

Aemond sighed through his nose as he peered over your head for a moment, surveying up the stairs to the Sept. "Be quick and unseen," he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. "And be careful," his hand moved to hold the small bulge of your lower belly.

"Mhm," you agreed against his lips, pressing another quick kiss. Turning, you hustled up the stairs and only felt mildly winded when you reached the landing. With a skeptical, heavy glance around, you noted the positions of everyone before moving for the doors of the holy building. You were only there a moment before catching sight of the Knighted Twins wrangling Aegon in - rushing back for the stone banister to give a low twiddling whistle.

Aemond recognized it and nodded to Cole.

You remained at the bannister, busying yourself and not looking back when you heard the grunting of Aegon and Arryk. You only stepped back, the three not even glancing your way, and offering you a front row seat to the impending battle. Only, you weren't alone as Cole stepped out from his place and your husband rose silently from his hidden crouch; Cole's sword extended as he spoke, "I do regret this, friend."

You laughed quietly when the tension filled stalemate turned tides when Aegon shoved an elbow to Arryk's stomach - making him release the Prince. From there, it was Cole against Arryk and Aemond against Aegon - both parties eventually making it down the stone stairs.

"Princess," A voice muttered, making you look up.

"Ser Erryk," you nodded. "You're not eager to join in?"

"No," he watched with you from the top of the stairs. "I do have conflicting feelings regarding matters."

"Over?"

"The progression of things," he muttered.

"You would support my Mother, would you?"

"I believe I would, after what I've come to witness," he admitted softly. "And yourself? You're Green now?"

"I bleed Black, my good Ser, do not mistake that," you hushed. "But if I am to survive with my husband, I have a part to play... Though... Something tells me you are sooner to see her."

"If I am... Would you have a message?"

Your chin inclined discreetly, "That my blood runs hot and Black. Tell her I remember our House words, and I would never abandon her. She will understand."

"I will, Princess."

"And that I love her. Remind her, Ser Erryk, if you see her before I do," you rushed now, feeling emotion swell in your chest.

"Princess," he agreed. "In the mean time, should you need my service - "

"There is something else," you nodded to him, the men still distracted enough to allow you brief privacy.

"ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME!?" Arryk demanded of his brother, your form hidden by the towering stone stairs Arryk stood under.

"Name it," Erryk muttered, keeping an eye on the battle.

"The Princess Rhaenys is locked in her room," you muttered. "She is not to be harmed, I'd see her out of the city. If you get the Queen Who Never Was out of the city, Ser, I will be forever indebted."

"It would bring me honor to do the right thing," he admitted. "I will do what I can, Princess."

"Thank you, Ser," you whispered.

"LET ME GO! BROTHER!"

"Go," you ushered, breaking apart from the Knight as Aegon yelled and thrashed in Aemond's arms.

"LET ME GO!" Aegon sobbed. "I HAVE NO WISH TO RULE!"

Cole had disarmed Arryk and taken his sword, you sweeping past the pair to approach the quarreling, platinum-blonde brothers.

"No taste for duty!" Aegon continued. "I'm not suited!"

Your husband voiced your same thoughts, "You'll get no argument from me."

You might've actually felt bad for the Prince as Aemond turned Aegon to face him, and Cole took your flank. The Prince Aegon begged his brother, "Let me go," he grabbed both of Aemond's cheeks, "I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found."

Knowing he was next in line, Aemond actually faltered as he considered the idea - but his eye cut over, and caught the shake of your head. He looked silently back to a hopeful-Aegon, and found no answer. Cole stepped away from you to wrap his arm around the future King's shoulder, informing, "The Queen awaits."

Seeing the physical anger as Aegon's hands shook while squeezing your husband's cheeks, you stepped up, "Aegon, do not. Fate has a way of finding us all, it is not so easy to sail away from. Let go - now."

He did not look away from his brother, but he did let go; only to push Cole's arms off him and stalk away - your feet stepping back to give him a wide berth of range. When away, you swiftly stepped up into Aemond's chest, and like his brother, took his cheeks in hand to force his eye to yours.

Before you could say anything, he only leaned down to press a suffocating kiss to your lips as his hand rose to hold your cheek and jaw. He paused to breath against you, foreheads resting together to let you breathe one another in. "Hey, hey," you hushed against his lips, petting his cheek with near desperation, "stay with me now. Do not get lost in your head, stay with me."

He nodded, pressing another reassuring kiss to your lips before whispering, "I'm with you, my love."

"Good," You sighed, taking his hand with yours, "because we need our wits about us in the coming days."

Aemond silently agreed, letting you pet a few stray, fly-away hairs back into place before he turned you to follow him - leading you both off in pursuit of his brother and Mother's guard.

You watched him for a time, just content to study his profile as you poured you both goblets of wine. He had been silent since returning from the streets of King's Landing; since finding his brother, ready to stow away and run away from your Mother's birthright.

"Here, love," You whispered, having watched his left hand flex in contemplation. He mutely looked up and accepted the wine, eye drifting back to the flames. You gently prodded him until both feet were flat to allow you room to slide onto his lap; sighing as you settled, asking gently, "Where are you, right now?"

His frowned deepened, eye raking over your face as he considered his answer. "In truth, the past..."

"All right," You sighed, leaning into his chest as one arm stretched to lay across his shoulders as the other brought the goblet to your lips. "Take me there with you, where in the past are you?"

He sighed, "All over, sweet girl. There is much on my mind."

"Over Aegon's words?"

"And actions..."

You nodded softly, curling a strand of hair behind his ear. "What do they make you think?"

"That I should've strangled him years ago," He sighed, taking a gulp of wine. With his lips brushing the rim of the goblet, he muttered, "Much would be different now. Perhaps I think of what could have been, should I of chose different."

You paused to let his words and emotions simmer, nodding slowly, asking, "Do you think much would be different with us?"

He snorted through his nose, "Not in the least bit."

"Oh?" You purred with a smirk, letting your lips pucker on his temple.

"Your brother had claimed my eye," he nodded with a small smirk, "at least, by the time I genuinely considered smothering the drunken fool, we were already engaged."

"Hmm," you mulled over, letting the arm around his shoulders flex gently to bring your hand to his cheek.

He swallowed another gulp of sweet wine. "Perhaps, if I'd been more of a man then, we'd not be here now."

"Funny you think you weren't man enough, even after what Luke did. I don't know grown men today who could handle what you endured. Funny you think you were man enough, yet at only age ten, you became dragonrider to Vhagar - largest in the world. You've always been man enough, Aemond, but you're not ruthless. No matter how you might think, you're not like your brother."

He smirked gently, "I ever tell you how perfect you are for me?"

"Hmm... Not today," You smirked, hearing him chuckle briefly. It was better than his suffocating silence.

But the silence fell again as he became lost to his thoughts. "Would you still love me?" He asked softly. "If I were King?"

"I do not think there are many scenarios for us to endure that I might love you less," you assured, knowing he needed the reassurance in this moment. "What you and I have, Aemond, is not conditional. I do not love you with terms, be assured that in any lifetime, I'd have you - and love you, still." You sighed against his temple, whispering, "Look at me, please."

His head tilted to gently drag the tip of your nose across his skin; letting you lean back to take him in, in full.

"You were raised with only a Mother's love," you whispered, "and were conditioned to believe you were not worthy of it. But you are, my sweet husband. You're worthy of love, and I've plenty to give."

He sighed, breath fanning against your lips, "What an honor to receive it."

Your smile was warm and never faltered - even when you leaned in for a kiss. In that moment, in your bubble, Aemond felt safe; and in a desperate moment, his forehead met yours as two tears fell in rapid succession. You let him grieve whatever was, what could have been; the privacy of your rooms and warmth of your embrace provided him a safe place to emote - and though he was in no way a master of it, he was getting better.

Your empty goblets made it to a table's top to rest, your arms tight as his head rested in the crook of your neck and shoulder; hand splayed across your lower belly to let his thumb sweep in comfort.

"You're fidgeting," Aemond muttered.

"I cannot help it, this is wrong," you whisper-hissed back; shifting in your spot to once more brush out the skirts of your black gown.

He sighed, pecking your temple, and whispered, "Please, my love."

You did your best to quell your nerves, but with the whole of King's Landing being ushered like cattle into the Dragon Pit, you could not help it. You were expected to stand by your husband (as if Aemond would ever allow you to stand elsewhere), beside the soon-to-be Queen; watching your brother-by-law be crowned King.

Oh, how wrong this was - but you could not stop it.

Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, called above the gathering crowd, "People of King's Landing... Today is the saddest of days. Our beloved King... Viserys the Peaceful... Is dead."

You listened to the shocked mutterings flood from the capital’s residents - their eyes turning beady the longer they stared at you. Your chin lifted, and Aemond's hand deftly rubbed along your waist.

Above them all, you stood on a platform dressed in your House colors. You did not speak as Otto called, again, "But it is also the most joyous of days... For as his spirit left us...! He whispered his final wish: that his firstborn son, Aegon," you tightened your own hold on your husband in support, "should succeed him!"

Your breaths were held as the crowd rumbled in conversation - but a collective exhale heaved when they started to applaud in approval. Your jaw steeled, these foolish citizens not realizing in truth they were supporting a stolen Throne to a child-playing-man. Guards marched through the crowds and forced a path that lead up to the stage you were stationed on.

As the trumpets blew, Aemond muttered in your ear, "Here comes our new King."

"Ease yourself," you hushed him, offering a look of understanding before facing forward again.

"Present... ARMS!" And a choir of sword sung as they were unsheathed and held above the soldiers heads to form a pathway for Aegon to walk under.

You could only keep track of Aegon through the crowd because after he passed each soldier, their swords swung in punctuation after him. You shuffled a half step closer to Aemond; an arm around his back to hold your anchor as your other hand laid against his stomach for balance. His arm tightened almost subconsciously around you, ensuring your proximity, but did not otherwise move.

"It is your good great fortune," Otto called again, "and privilege... To be here to witness this: a new day for our city... A new day for our realm. A new King... To lead us!" Aegon reached the end of the procession, each sword down - before swinging back up in salute.

Dare you say it, but Aegon looked positively seething to climb the stage stairs to meet the royal procession. Swords were sheathed as Aegon reached the top of the stairs to stand before his Mother and grandsire; the latter stepping back.

As Queen Regent, Alicent stepped forward to kiss her eldest son's forehead - a public sign of love, respect, and support - before she guided him to step up in his place. Your mother-by-law turned, then, to step back aside.

The guards all moved in sync - moved into position as their new task to guard the King. Otto stepped towards Aegon and gave one, single, meaningful nod; stepping back in time for Aegon to sink to his knees.

You watched the coronation with something akin to burning anger dissolving your gut - unsure what to make of the situation you bore witness to. Yet, like your husband, you've mastered the stoic position and look - and did not let your façade fade the longer you stood there. Aegon was the first born son... And even you, a student of history, could not dispute his claim.

Aegon the Elder was anointed in oils, words of blessing spoken over him and his reign. You silently prayed that it was not for long. Your husband had stood with his blind eye to his brother, not wanting to break his pride to turn and look; but his sister did. You, like your husband, just stared forward with obedience as you truly did not want to watch the Septon give his blessing.

However, as if connected by a string, both you and your husband's heads turned to watch the Septon step back and for Ser Criston to take up the crown and turn to the knelt boy. To the crowd, he explained, "The Crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations."

Cole brought the crown to Aegon's head, and your hands tightened on your husband's torso when you clocked his unwavering glare. The siblings seemingly switched places, and now it was Helaena who could not bare to watch any longer as Aemond's eye never once lifted from his brother.

It was hard to read what he felt, but by the tight squeeze of his hand, you knew it was not positive.

"Let the Seven bear witness: Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne," Cole announced, and you swore you felt the burning glares of a few court and crowd members fall over you - your obvious lineage now posing problem.

Aemond's head bowed to look down at you, your eyes locking for a long moment as the Septon helped Aegon to his feet while the crowd stewed on what they just witnessed. The holy man bowed first and as Aegon's eyes moved, everyone bowed with respect. Your hand had to discreetly nudge Helaena's elbow, but she, too, gave a short curtesy.

Aegon's eyes cut into yours, and for a moment, you considered showing defiance in support of your mother, but knew better than to tempt fate. It was bad enough you wore black on such a day instead of a supportive green, but you liked to dress to match your husband. So, with stiff knees, you let yourself only just barely curtesy to the new (false) King. Aemond gave a single, swift nod of his head - and his brother did not dare ask for more.

Otto gave the final bow, and the High Speton offered his arm in presentation as he announced to the thick crowd, "All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men," Aegon only then started to slowly turn to face 'his' people for the first time, "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!"

It was deathly quiet.

"Aegon the King!" Criston Cole called, rallying the crowd into an uproar of cheering, applause, and approval.

"Fucking sheep," you muttered in judgement, words drowned out as Aegon boasted in the glory of being King.

Aemond sighed against your forehead before kissing the top of your head - something only Otto seemed to notice. But the attention was drawn by Aegon pompously brandishing his sword, encouraging the crowds again. You noticed the way Helaena twitched and worried as you knew of the girl's visions, reaching for her as she turned towards you and Aemond - your husband between you still.

With an arm around your stoic husband, your other reached for the girl's forearm, "Are you all right, Heleana?" You hushed.

But her eyes only closed with concentration. You released her from your hold, the crowds chanting their support; and your worried gaze met your husband's. Just then, as your mouth opened to voice concern, the middle of the Pit's floor exploded in a hurricane of rocky debris. Your husband swiftly yanked you across his body to push you closer to his sister and turning to attempt to shield you both, but hunched slightly over you as the dust mushroomed around you.

Both his arms were tight around your torso, but none of you could look away - making out the sight of the Red Queen, Meleys, sweeping her mighty tail around citizens, taking out whoever she could in an effort to satisfy her bloodthirsty rider.

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen - freed by Ser Erryk by your command.

"Aemond," you shuddered as the ground trembled.

"I've got you, I've got you," he assured swiftly and you felt Heleana cowering lightly into your back. Aemond's eye swept over you in concern, pulling you flush against him as his body was used to shield you still; one of his hands dropping to lay protectively over your belly.

Chaos rained around you; screams of people drowned by the threatening growls of the mighty dragon. Then, she gave a shrieking bellow that only echoed in sound around you; and your hands tightened on your husband. Ser Crsiton had the Queen Regent covered as Aemond seemingly had you and Helaena; but you knew little could be done for your stepmother and company should Rhaenys utter that famous word.

That very word that would drown you all in dragon fire.

But this was a war to be fought with Fire and Blood, you were prepared for the carnage to follow. Yet your only instinct now was to not just cling to Aemond in an effort to keep him close, but cover the innocent, sweet new (false) Queen Heleana. As the great dragon started to move, people were trying to climb their way out of the Pit - but little could be done for them now.

"Th-They're closing the doors," you called down the way when you noticed it. "The people will suffer - they're closing the doors!"

Otto heard your words over the screams of terror and tried to roar over them all, "OPEN THE DOORS!" But the doors were still closing on people trying to flee - and the Hightowers knew that Rhaenys would escape one way or another. "OPEN THE DOORS!"

Rhaenys turned from behind her to note the narrowing escape to glare at the Royals beneath her - her eyes skating over you to land on Alicent. The Queen Regent then boldly pushed from Ser Criston, giving the command, "Get Helaena," as she moved for her crowned son. Standing before Aegon the Second, Green faced the Red Queen.

Aemond turned to push you and his sister behind his body in full; standing to face the towering, growling dragon that neared the platform to leer in all your faces. You held a hand to his waist to assure him of your position whilst his hands were held in use of defense - should need be.

Though, you wondered what he could truly do against Meleys.

No words were exchanged; Alicent only bent her head in submission, but the great red-scaled dragon only gave another bellow - but no flames. Your husband's head bowed to endure the stream of hot air blown across you all, one hand holding your sister-by-law's, and the other keeping tight hold of Aemond as his body protected yours.

Yet, in the end, you all opened your eyes to spy Rhaenys spare Alicent one last scorching glare before turning her dragonmount and rushing for the still-opened doors.

There was a collective shudder across the lot of you, and Aemond turned at once to take your face in his hands. He nodded once, brows crinkling in concern; making you lay a hand over his, assuring, "I'm okay. I'm all right."

"The babe?" He asked in a hush, Alicent checking over Aegon to then rush for her daughter.

"We're both all right," you promised, hand almost slapping over his own that laid to your womb. His gaze turned back towards the doors, ushering you to his chest; both of your gazes watching the fleeing dragon that bore a vengeful, hotheaded rider... A rider who would bare your messages to your mother and inform her of the truth.

A rider who you would meet again in open battle.

[ series masterlist ]

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

They're all concerned about Spencer but even more concerned about Hotch and whether he's going to survive or not. They rush him to the same hospital that Hotch is in to keep them both in the same area. You've been by Hotch's side the whole time and he hasn't woken up yet. You rub your hands together nervously and look to the left of you to see your team fast-walk down the hallway.

"Hey, he's still not conscious."

"Are you sure it was Foyet?" Rossi asks.

"I felt his energy at Hotch's place. I saw what happened. Hotch lost a lot of blood but he's been stable since I arrived. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to be distracted. Plus, he was checked in with Derek's credentials that he stole the last time we saw him."

"Did they catch him on the security camera?"

"I saw him drop Hotch off but the camera is only at the entrance. I got a feel of the direction he went in but I lost him right outside the parking lot. I don't know where he is."

"It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the ER. We know Foyet gets off on power and control. Maybe what he wants is for Hotch to know his life was in his hands."

"He could do that without risking the hospital," Derek says.

"What happened to Spencer? I heard a gunshot go off over the phone. Is he okay?"

"He was shot in the knee," JJ explains. "He's here getting treatment."

You want nothing more than to go to him but if he's still in surgery or getting care, you don't want to interrupt that. Hotch groans as he comes out of his mini coma-like state.

"Agents, he's waking up," the doctor says. "Remember, he's weak. Don't push him."

"Where am I?" Hotch whispers.

"In the hospital."

"How did I get here?"

"Foyet drove you. Can you remember what happened?" you ask gently.

Hotch stays silent for a moment. 

"What did he take?" Everyone looks at each other in confusion. "The Reaper always takes something from his victims. Do we know what he took?"

"There was a page missing from your day planner in the address section," you say. "The Bs."

"What did he leave?" he winces in pain.

"I don't know. I looked over your whole apartment. Nothing felt out of place."

"Where are my clothes?"

You grab the bag with his bloody clothes and other belongings and set them on his legs. You pull out the bloody shirt and open the bag for him to go through. He pulls out what looks like a wallet but is Derek's credentials. Folded inside is a picture of Hayley and Jack.

He's going after Hayley and Jack.

"Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands. He knows where they live," Hotch sighs.

"Don't worry, Hotch. We'll take care of it."

Everyone but Emily decides to leave the hospital in search of Hayley. You would have stayed behind but you're better in the field than by Hotch's side. Spencer is still getting treated so you have no business staying behind. JJ tries calling Hayley three times but she isn't answering.

"She's not answering."

Derek takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Garcia, I need FBI SWAT deployed to Hotch's old address."

"Oh, God, do you think he's going after Hayley and Jack?"

"I don't know. Just send a SWAT team. Tell them to wait for instructions. We're on our way."

"Consider them there."

"We need to be prepared for what we might find. Foyet kept Hotch alive. He wouldn't do that without a reason."

There's no time to speculate because Foyet could already be there murdering Hayley and Jack. When the team arrives at her house, SWAT is already there waiting. As soon as Derek gives the green light, SWAT members pile into the house with your team mixed in with them. Hayley is in the house, you can feel her. Foyet's energy is nowhere to be found which means you got to her before he could.

You walk upstairs with Derek and two other SWAT members. Hayley is in her room wearing yoga clothes, headphones are in her ears, and she is doing laundry. She turns to put clothes away and screams loudly from seeing a bunch of people in her house.

"Oh, my God!" she gasps.

"It's okay. It's okay," you calm her down.

"What are you all doing here?"

"We got her," Derek says to Emily who is on the phone with him.

"What's going on?"

"Is there anyone else in the house?" you ask.

"No, there's no one here."

"Where's Jack?"

"He's at a friend's house for a play date."

"We need to get him back here."

"Where's Aaron?"

"He's in the hospital."

"What?" she gasps.

"Hayley, call for Jack. Tell them I'm on the way to pick him up. I promise you we'll explain. Call for him right now. Text me the address," Derek says and leaves the room.

"Tell me what happened to Aaron," she says as she does what she's told.

"He was stabbed nine times presumably last night or early this morning. We know who did it and we're doing everything we can to try and find him. We think he's going after you and Jack next. I know this is a shock right now, but you need to pack a bag. You can't stay here right now. You two will be placed in the Witness Protection Program."

"Wait, are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," Rossi answers.

Hayley knows she needs to listen to your team right now so she starts to pack a very large bag knowing she isn't going to come back here for a while. Derek and Jack come back ten minutes later, and he has the biggest smile on his face.

"Mommy! They let me turn on the siren!"

"Wow, that's so great, baby! Did you have fun?" Hayley smiles through the pain.

"I'll help start a bag in Jack's room," JJ says and leaves.

"Okay. How many times did you run it? How many times?" Jack holds up three fingers and she chuckles. "Three?"

As soon as Hayley and Jack are packed up and ready to go, you take her to the hospital so she can talk to Hotch. Rossi already made some calls to other agents about placing them into protective custody, so those agents meet you at the hospital. Jack is waiting with one of the agents so Hayley can speak to her ex-husband alone.

It sucks knowing their situation (minus the whole Foyet thing) because they didn't divorce because they stopped loving each other. They divorced because loving each other hurt them too much.

While you let them talk, you go find Spencer who is on the other side of the hospital. You grab some jello for him on your way and you keep it hidden behind your back to surprise him. He is trying to find something on the TV to watch when you knock on his door.

"Hey," he smiles brightly and turns off the TV.

"I can't leave you alone, can I?"

"How's Hotch?"

"Physically? He's going to be okay. Emotionally? Not so much. We have to place Hayley and Jack in protective custody, so they're talking right now before they leave." You walk over to his bed and sit on the edge of it. You reach up and move some of his hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut." Spencer laughs and grabs your hand while it's still on his cheek. He moves your palm to his mouth and he kisses the center of your hand. You rub his cheekbone with your thumb while looking into his eyes with so much love. "I bought you something."

You take the jello out from behind your back and his eyes light up.

"Thanks!" He eats a few bites happily. "Good news is that all I need are some crutches for a while."

"Don't worry, I'm going to take good care of you."

"I know," he smiles.

If he's going to go through all this trouble to incriminate you, the least he can do is stick around to watch your downfall. The block in which he left his last victim is sectioned off with yellow police tape even though there is a large crowd forming around the perimeter. Several officers are located on the outside to keep the public from barging in, and he squeezes himself through the crowd to get to the front.

If this is going to work, he needs to know what the police know so he knows how to proceed from here.

"Excuse me, officer? What's going on here?" he asks.

He's masked his real voice with a fake southern accent he's been working on for weeks.

"There's been a murder. Everything is fine, sir."

"Officer, I walk down this street every day and night. Am I safe? I live right down the block."

"Where?"

"Right there."

The man points to the apartment building on the corner of the street.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"No, sir."

The officer lifts the tape up so the man can step through so he's not stuck in the crowd. The officer doesn't take him to where the dead body is, but he wants some privacy from the onlookers.

"What's your name?"

The man doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Frank Livingston."

"What's a good phone number to reach you at?"

"619-555-0122."

"Where were you last night between the hours of ten and five in the morning?"

"Out here, unfortunately. I have a hard time sleeping ever since I had a stroke a few years ago. I decided to go for a walk to try and clear my head."

"Did you happen to see anything?"

"Well, let's see. I walked outside and had a cigarette." The man chuckles and pats his breast pocket where his pack of cigarettes is. "The dang things will kill ya but I can't seem to put it down." He chuckles. "Anyway, I was walkin' and I didn't know what time it was because I forgot my phone. I saw this car parked on the side of the road, and there was someone lyin' on the ground like they'd been hit. Seeing y'all here makes me think they might not have been hit after all."

"Anything else?" the officer asks and writes down everything he says.

"I saw someone leanin' against the car, but I didn't know what they were doing. The light isn't great out here. My eyes have gone bad since the stroke. It nearly took out my sight altogether. I'm not sure what they were doin' but I know I saw hair."

"Hair?"

"Long hair like a female's. I got out of there so fast like I was fearing for my life. You know females these days got everything goin' on. They carry all kinds of protective weapons on them. I didn't want to end up like that fella."

"Anything else you noticed?"

"Not that I can recall. Like I said, I got out of there quickly."

"Okay. If you can remember anything, please give me a call."

The officer hands over his business card with his contact information, and Frank takes it from him.

"Yes, sir, I will."

Frank walks away from the crime scene with the fake persona still on him. When he gets far enough away, he drops the innocent act with a smirk. He crumbles the officer's card and tosses it into a nearby trash can.

x

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