#lyrics spoilers under the cut

[sundrop-writes]

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven’t watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there’s no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it’s not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to ‘appeal’ to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife’ to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name’); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader’s true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader’s body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer’s fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don’t really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it’s good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn’t 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

��Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that I have written, rather than asking me to write 'more'. If you want to see more things that I have written about Spencer, feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist.

[huramuna]

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other. 

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard. 

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days. 

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

 You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design. 

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased. 

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly. 

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits. 

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly. 

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?” 

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.” 

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?” 

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets. 

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here. 

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.” 

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.” 

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?” 

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–” 

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?” 

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet! 

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets. 

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions. 

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’ 

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup. 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.” 

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–” 

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.” 

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…” 

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house. 

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red. 

— 

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot. 

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you. 

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.” 

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,” 

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction. 

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little— 

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing? 

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you. 

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you? 

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him? 

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working. 

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Oh. You’re still here.” 

“Yes?” 

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.” 

“The… what?” 

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.” 

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?” 

“Why not?” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?” 

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?” 

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you. 

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins. 

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?” 

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?” 

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.” 

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?” 

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.” 

“... what.” 

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?” 

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours. 

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.” 

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves. 

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.” 

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.” 

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?” 

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.” 

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?” 

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh. 

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone. 

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil. 

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat. 

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into. 

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded. 

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off. 

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt. 

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.” 

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was. 

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?” 

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.” 

“How about just in my room? Please?” 

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

[edwinspaynes]

Okay, so. I am very happy to inform y'all that I am beginning work on the first "episode" (chapter) of my Dead Boy Detectives season 2 fic today!

It has two potential working titles, both lyrics from Taylor Swift's Fresh Out the Slammer. I am not going to reveal them because I haven't selected which one I'll be using yet.

It will have 9 chapters. The official case titles are:

The Case of the Weeping Walls

The Case of Niko Sasaki

The Case of the Choked Cheerleaders

The Case of the Scorned Son

The Case of Hell's Own Track

The Case of the Shredded Tapestry

The Case of the Separated Soulmates

The Case of the Great Fire, Part I

The Case of the Great Fire, Part II

Each chapter will also come with a fun feature, but I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. :)

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC, PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS POST. I will tag everyone who wants a tag, but only if they comment since that's how I'll keep track of the list.

Next question because I know this is going to be an extremely expansive and time-consuming project:

I would still post my usual DBDA content, including other DBDA fics, on this blog. The other one would be exclusively for longfic-related updates.

I would probably still reblog the chapters I post there onto this blog.

Finally, something for you to enjoy: a playlist for the fic! This is very short and uninteresting, but it will be an ever-evolving thing that probably gets long eventually, so please follow it if you're interested :)

A few spoilers under the cut that might impact interest (endgame ship, etc)

Unequivocal Payneland endgame (they're soulmates your honour)

Palasaki and NN/Kashi endgames

Happy ending for The Cat King, who plays a big role in the story

No Sandman crossovers besides potentially a Death appearance (I do not know Sandman well enough to include them)

BAMF Edwin scenes ;)

No Esther or Monty (sorry!) - there is a new OC antagonist

I'm currently trying to find a place for Jenny. I want to include her, but she will likely only have a few cameos since I can't for the life of me think of a plotline to involve her in.

I will be keeping up with Yockey-posted spoilers and incorporating them into the story when possible (so, Niko is the Principal, etc)

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Which Toxic Yaoi is the best

Sequel to the toxic yuri poll. I deeply apologise if some of these are not toxic, i went off of the propaganda

Propaganda under the cut!

BbKaz (Big Boss/Kazuhira Miller)

they have multitudes.. you can ship it as something goofy and fluffy or as the most toxic yaoi of all time and theyre both pretty reasonable interpretations. they go on a date together and have sex in a cardboard box on a beach in canon and a bunch of other crazy shit. their relationship spans 20 years so they span from honeymooning to divorced to one trying to kill the other etc. "love loses" the ship they make me insane

Flash/Reverse Flash

"It was ME Barry, I jerked you off at supersonic speeds so it would seem like you nutted at just a woman's touch!"

Possibly the most toxic yaoi of all time

SuzaLuLu (Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperougue)

TOXIC YAOI TOXIC YAOI

SaruMi (Saruhiko Fushimi/Misaki Yata)

Toxic yaoi, obsessive boy joins a gang with his best friend but then his best friend makes other friends in the gang so he joins up with an enemy gang instead. Normal behavior.

Valvert (Jean Valjean/Javert)

They’re so obsessed with each other (especially javert to valjean) it’s like half of the plot. Pinnacle of toxic old man yaoi. Produces the funniest plot point in the show: Valjean (escaped convict in disguise as a mayor and businessman) saves someone by lifting a cart he was trapped under and Javert (cop trying to catch Valjean) goes “Damn girl… you remind me of this guy…. He’s the only guy I’ve ever seen who’s as swole and jacked as you”

Lawlight (Light/L)

"L and Light are the founding fathers of toxic yaoi" is what people WANT you to believe but these poor men are being slandered... You see it's ackshually totally heterosexual to give your bestie (who's also your mortal enemy) a foot massage while he he makes soft little grunting noises and wipes the water droplets from your rain-soaked hair all while a soft melancholic piano track is accompanying this surprisingly tender moment between the two of you- IF it's a religious callback to Jesus and Judas. It's just a Bible reference bro. No homo. 🤓☝

Anyhow don't google the Japanese version of "Playing his Game" (which is called "Inside of him" in Japanese) from the Death Note Musical. I assure you there is absolutely nothing gay about those lyrics.

Wdym people love shipping two mortal enemies with an unhealthy obsessive murderous rivaly??? What is the world coming to... Besides Light is clearly heterosexual. His lack of interest in women is because he's a based sigma male obviously...

and additional reason here but this one is a spoiler

Foot washing scene. The musical. God, they're so obsessed with each other. When L dies Light loses his main drive, his passion- being Kira isn't fun anymore without L, he isn't having a good time even though he won their battle of wits. Light being L's first friend. L being... really, the first person to understand Light. Theyre insane I love them

[bardace]

DELTA ECHO ALPHA DELTA!

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS COMIC!!! JUST IN TIME FOR SECRET SLEEPOVER SOCIETY VIEWERS TO UNDERSTAND IT!!!!!

MAJOR spoilers for Ghost Trick under the cut, as well as bright colors, blood, and noose imagery! Be careful!

Lyrics from Lifetime Achievement Award by Lemon Demon

[Plain text: "Delta Echo Alpha Delta" in all caps. End PT]

Image ID in alt, written by @anistarrose, thank you so much!!!!!

[pikahlua]

MHA Chapter 403 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

1 なんのためえにぃうーまれて nan no tamee nii uumarete What are you born for and

book cover あんぱんまん anpanman Anpanman

2 なぁにをしぃてえいきるのかぁ naani wo shiitee ikiru no kaa what are you going to do? (Note: The above lines are the opening lyrics to the Anpanman theme song.)

tagilne オールマイト幼き日の記憶ーー オールマイトおさなきひのきおくーー OORU MAITO osanaki hi no kioku-- All Might's childhood memories--

C (copyright) やなせたかし Yanase Takashi Takashi Yanase

3 思い返せば おもいかえせば omoi kaeseba If I think back,

4 誰もが通る道にあったモノだ だれもがとおるみちにあったモノだ dare mo ga tooru michi ni atta MONO da it's something that was on the path everyone walks.

5-6 原点と呼ぶにはあまりに柔らかな記憶 オリジンとよぶにはあまりにやわらかなきおく ORIJIN (kanji: genten) to yobu ni wa amari ni yawaraka na kioku A memory too soft to call my origin.

1 私がした事といえば わたしがしたことといえば watashi ga shita koto to ieba If we're talking about what I did,

2 ふとその道を振り返っただけだ ふとそのみちをふりかえっただけだ futo sono michi wo furikaetta dake da I only happened to look back down that path.

3-4 それがとても大事なものに見えただけだ それがとてもだいじなものにみえただけだ sore ga totemo totemo daiji na mono ni mieta dake da [What was there]* just looked like it was very important. (*Note: Literally the word here is just "that.")

tagline No.403　The End of An Era, And----　時代の終わり、そして　　堀越耕平 ナンバー403　ジ　エンド　オブ　アン　イアラ、　アンド---- じだいのおわり、そして----　　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 403 JI ENDO OBU AN IARA, ANDO---- jidai no owari, soshite----   Horikoshi Kouhei No. 403 The End of An Era, And----  Kouhei Horikoshi

1 だから dakara That's why.

2 英雄らしく えいゆうらしく eiyuu rashiku "Like a hero."

3 キュウ…ン KYUU...N (Note: This is a sound effect for the drills destroying the gauntlet.)

4 死に方を選べると？ しにかたをえらべると？ shinikata wo eraberu to? "Choosing how to die?"

1 やっと yatto "Finally"

2 出し切ったな！ だしきったな！ dashikitta na! "got that out!"

3 「凝血」 「ぎょうけつ」 「gyouketsu」 Bloodcurdle

4-5 手負いのヒーローの恐さは散々教わった ておいのヒーローのこわさはさんざんおそわった teoi no HIIROO no kowasa wa sanzan osowatta "I've learned well how terrifying an injured hero is."

6 君には��も果たさせはしない きみにはなにもはたさせはしない kimi ni wa nani mo hatasase wa shinai "I won't let you execute anything." (Note: He means he won't let All Might do anything like a trick or a plan to fight back.)

7 その表情を待ってた そのカオをまってた sono KAO (kanji: hyoujou) wo matteta "I was waiting for that face [expression]."

8-9 君が最も嫌がる時だ きみがもっともいやがるときだ kimi ga motto mo iyagaru toki da "The moment you can't stand the most."

1 ジェントル‼︎ JENTORU!! "Gentle!!"

2 ああ‼︎雄英は安定した‼︎ ああ‼︎ゆうえいはあんていした‼︎ aa!! yuuei wa antei shita!! "Ah!! UA has stabilized!!"

3 行くぞ！行ってやる いくぞ！いってやる ikuzo! itte yaru "Let's go! I'll go for it."

4 わあああ‼︎ waaaa!! "Waaaah!!"

5 撮るのを止めるな！ とるのをやめるな！ toru no wo yameruna! "Don't stop taking video!"

6 ぐぅ!!! guu!!! "Ggh!!!"

7 雄英に吸われて狙いがズレたか… ゆうえいにすわれてねらいがズレたか… yuuei ni suwarete nerai ga ZUREta ka... "Perhaps my aim was off because it got absorbed by UA..."

8 まァいい…善性に抑えられていろ飛田 まァいい…ぜんせいにおさえられていろとびた maA ii...zensei ni osaerarete iro Tobita "Well, it's fine... Stay restrained there by your good nature, Tobita." (Note: He means basically "Get stuck holding up UA because you have a soft heart.")

1 レーザー一斉照射用意‼︎ レーザーいっせいしょうしゃようい‼︎ REEZAA issei shousha youi!! "Ready for simultaneous laser fire!!"

2 オールマイトに当たっちまう‼︎ オールマイトにあたっちまう‼︎ OORU MAITO ni atacchimau!! "[But] I'll hit All Might!!"

3 彼は かれは kare wa "He"

4 スターの憧れだ！ スターのあこがれだ！ SUTAA no akogare da! "is Star's aspiration!"

5 スターと共に弔を追い詰めたXー66ーー…！ スターとともにとむらをおいつめたエックスーダブルシックスーー…！ SUTAA to tomo ni Tomura wo oitsumeta EKKUSU-DABURU SHIKKUSU--...! "The X-66s that cornered Tomura together with Star--...!"

1 FIRE ファイア FAIA "FIRE"

2 スターは不在だろ スターはふざいだろ SUTAA wa fuzai daro "Star is absent, you know."

1 あやばい a yabai "Ah, crap."

2 え e "Eh?"

3 オールマイト逝くっ オールマイトいくっ OORU MAITO iku "All Might will die,"

4 オールマイト逝く！ オールマイトいく！ OORU MAITO iku! "All Might will die!"

5 うん終わり うんおわり un owari "Yeah, it's over."

6-7 そんな…ダメだって！ sonna...DAME datte! "Something like this...is hopeless!"

8 オールマイトが OORU MAITO ga "All Might is..."

9 わしゃ…昔たすけられたんじゃ… わしゃ…むかしたすけられたんじゃ… washa...mukashi tasukeraretanja... "I...was saved by him a long time ago..."

10 どんな姿であれ…彼の死は どんなすがたであれ…かれのしは donna sugata de are...kare no shi wa "No matter what form he takes...his death"

11 おじさまっ ojisama "Uncle."

12 俊典… としのり… Toshinori... "Toshinori..."

13 時代の節目になる じだいのふしめになる jidai no fushime ni naru "will be the turning point of the era."

1 嫌だ いやだ iya da It can't be.

2 嫌だ--- いやだ--- iya da--- It can't be---

3 ---誰か--- ---だれか--- ---dare ka--- ---someone---

1 No.403 ナンバー403 NANBAA 403 No. 403

1 The End of An Era, ジ　エンド　オブ　アン　イアラ、 JI ENDO OBU AN IARA, The End of An Era,

1 And------ アンド------ ANDO------ And------

1 The Beginning ザ　ビギニング ZA BIGININGU The Beginning

tagline 想いは今一つにーー‼︎ おもいはいまひとつにーー‼︎ omoi wa ima hitotsu ni--!! Their feelings* now [become] one--!! (*Note: This word has MANY meanings: "heart, mind, thoughts, feelings, desires, wishes, hopes, etc.")

[curekibouka-writing]

Analyzing the lullaby motif in book 7 (+translation of lyrics)

MAJOR SPOILERS for book 7 chapter 1-5

I hope everyone remembers the lullaby Malleus sang for everyone when he overblotted because that motif came back FOUR times in chapter 5 and I am going to analyze them all because they make me way too emotional 😭

Please feel free to find the lullaby motifs in this post and this post if necessary (although one of them is not included).

Translated lyrics of the lullaby:

A warm cradle

Starlight and joy

My eyes are watching over you still, let's be together

With no fear, even if we wake from this dream

Sleep, sleep, my beloved child

In dreams, I pray you would be guided to walk toward the light

(Analysis begins under the cut:)

The melody of the lullaby has been used 5 times at least in the story, they include:

When Malleus hummed it to everyone he put to sleep during his OB

When Meleanor sang it to Malleus

When Lilia sang it to Silver

When Malleus sang it to Silver

In the bgm when Sebek was helping come out of the darkness

The themes of this piece of music are love and farewell.

Motif use 2 is chronologically when the lullaby was first sung, it’s a song of love from a mother to her child when she knows they must part. I believe that when Meleanor sang this lullaby, she had already made up her mind to fight and let her guards escape with her child. She was taking the last moments she had with her child to name him "Malleus" and sing him this lullaby (7-75). Lyrics include sth like “I will be watching over you even if we wake up from this dream” and “may you be guided and walk towards the light”. But the beauty that comes with the theme of farewell is the theme of legacy. Because even though Meleanor is now gone, her song, and thus her love, never died.

Because Lilia remembers it. Motif 3 is Lilia singing it to Silver, and he’s also sung it to Malleus before. In a musical story, even if the characters lie or don’t have perfect information, the music never lies. Even if Lilia once doubted whether he could love Malleus and hatch him properly (7-77), and even if Lilia may still doubt whether he could love Silver, a human, properly (7-81), the motif symbolises love which tells us the truth — Lilia is capable of giving love. And the legacy is not just that Lilia passed the song to Malleus, it’s that Lilia internalized the song and sang it to his own son. He has seen what kind of mother Meleanor was, and he’s learnt from her kindness, her pride, her love and he has put that into how he raise his own child. Lilia has Meleanor’s legacy too.

And then to address the two Malleus motifs. First of all Malleus never sings it with lyrics, which would imply Malleus himself doesn’t fully know the true meaning of the song. However, he knows that he’s felt happiness and protection from hearing this song, so he sings it to Silver when Lilia asks him to as motif 4 (7-81). When he sang it to Silver he sounded confused, it must’ve been a long time since he’s heard the song. But he still remembers it, which means Meleanor’s love never died because Malleus remembers it all the same. It’s still in Malleus. It’s still there.

But when Malleus overblots, the song gets twisted a little bit (motif 1). However, in Malleus’s mind, it’s still a song of happiness and protection, because he overblotted trying to protect everyone’s happiness forever. But the music sounds creepy to show you the true nature of the song is not like this. The nature of the song is that "even though I cannot be with you always, I will still love you and wish for your happiness". This is the part that Malleus did not understand and did not cope with. It’s also interesting to note that Malleus sang motif 1 with a smile and no hesitation, he was completely confident and sure in what he was doing. Meanwhile, in all other three sung versions, each singer had their own different emotions in their singing, and those emotions were a lot softer, a lot less certain.

And the fifth and final use of the motif is used in the bgm when Sebek yells at Silver for him to get a grip (7-86). The song is arranged into a victorious piece with certainty and assurance. The use of the motif reminds us of the themes: love and legacy. It calls attention to these themes and entrenchs the truth that Silver IS Lilia’s legacy, and that’s only possible because of the love that Lilia has given him. The exact part where the bgm starts playing was when Silver said "Even in the darkness, I could always hear it. 'Stand up' 'Don't give in' 'Live'... it's father's voice. [...] All that he taught me, that's the proof that he had loved me. It's not a dream and not an illusion... it's true love." (I'm serious he really said "true love" for real this IS a translation T^T). When Silver saw Lilia's memories of the song, he denied the love, he said he should not deserve it. The motif had to come back because this is the moment when Silver can finally realize “Ah. This song is full of love and father sang it for me.” The motif HAD to come back because Silver has to come to accept it.

But the bgm arrangement is also made for Sebek. The bgm is full of certainty because Sebek has no doubts in what he’s telling Silver. Sebek, who has grown up alongside Silver, has witness all the love between Lilia and Silver. He KNOWS Lilia’s love is true and he’s conveying that to Silver with certainty. This bgm summarises what Sebek was doing so well, Sebek sees the love Lilia has for Silver and was literally blasting it in Silver’s ears.

As Disney's Sleeping Beauty (1959) puts it, "true love conquers all". And we've been shown that there's love in every direction among our Diasomnia found family. Let's hope that, soon enough, Silver and Sebek would wake Lilia up, and they can finally show Malleus the true meaning of his mother's lullaby and the wish she entrusted to it — that he would walk towards the light, even if she cannot be the one guiding him...

[adhdbisexualramblings]

I really like your Bill Regressor headcanons! Have you thought about a scenario where you describe the circumstances under which Ford was able to positively make him regress? I'd be curious to hear more about that!

Aaaaa thank you!! I’m glad people enjoyed them!

I have thought of that scenario, actually! And I will now give it to you in story form! It’s long so I’m putting it under the cut.

(The story takes place during The Book of Bill’s “drunk karaoke session” (spoilers by the way), meaning that there will be alcohol use and also regression while drunk (Bill has problems). As stated before, Bill’s regression is not typical. His regression is very subtle. I’m hoping I wrote it adequately. :) )

(I also got WAY too into the pre-regression part so apologies regarding that-)

(A quick note: I am aware the Bill and Ford are not great relationship-wise. This story isn’t saying that they are, only that they had good moments together. I’m writing this as a what-if scenario based on headcanons - do with that what you will.)

Title: What a Night

Another knight hops across the board to tear into a bishop with its newly acquired sharp teeth.

“Bill-!” The laugh in Ford’s voice couldn’t be clearer as the horse-shaped piece happily chews its opponent. “That’s not valid!”

“That’s a regular move in inter-dimensional chess! I think you’re just a sore loser.”

Bill swirls his glass and takes a sip himself before offering it to Ford, who takes it gratefully to drink a larger portion. The glass never empties.

“God, you mix a good drink.” He praises with a content sigh, slumping further into the comfortable velvet seat.

“They don’t call me the “universe’s best bartender” for nothin’, you know!” Bill blinks once and leans across the chessboard, knocking over a few pieces, “Wink!”

Stanford grins. He moves to grab a rook and jerks back when it snaps at his finger. He laughs joyously and retries.

“Well, I was Jersey’s best chess player for nearly a decade straight,” to the kids that would play against him, which weren’t many. Still, Ford boasts, “and I can’t assess your bartender thing - I don’t get out into the inter-dimensional bars too often, but you…your drink was…oh, boy,” he giggles, already feeling tipsy. Bill laughs loudly at that; it echoes through the Mindscape.

After many, many, chess rounds that ended in ties, the two companions are more wasted than ever.

“No, Bill, we’ve played We’ll Meet Again five times already.”

Bill pokes an accusatory finger at Ford, hogging their one microphone.

“Shhhut it, IQ. You - you just have terrible taste. ‘K?”

Ford huffs but lets the karaoke happen. He crosses his arms and waits on their couch while Bill slurs the lyrics, completely unaware of his  own volume level. Still, he seems to be enjoying himself. The music in the Mindscape stops. Bill droops in place as soon as it does, microphone dangling in his loose fingers. Singing his heart out to Vera Lynn each and every time probably wasn’t a great idea.

“…OK, I’m bored. Your turn.”

Ford catches the microphone tossed his way and grins widely. Bill replaces his spot on the couch, wiped out. He sighs deeply and adjusts his hat as Ford decides. All Bill needs is a little more pep, he’s sure of it. Hell, he’ll offer some to Fordsy, too. With a clunky wave of his hand, Bill’s “Myoclonic Jerk” appears in his hand. It wobbles in his lax grip before he grips it with both hands and chugs what would be the whole glass if the drink wasn’t infinite. A fuzzy feeling wraps around Bill instantly, and he’s too distracted to realize it’s more than the buzz of alcohol.

“Hey, Sixer!” He leans forward and holds up the glass double-handed like a trophy. Ford whips around from the handy little song selection screen. His eyes fall on the drink. He stumbles closer to the couch to take it.

“Hey, wo-oah, smaller sips.” Bill advises without much actual danger attached to it, clearly amused. He snaps his fingers, popping the drink out of existence after Ford’s share. Ford blinks at his empty hand in confusion, making Bill laugh again. It’s closer to a giggle this time. Ford gathers himself in time to glance at the selection screen.

“Oh, I picked som-something. C’mere.”

Bill floats up, finds himself unsteady, and conjures his cane to “help” him keep his balance despite the fact that the cane is no help at all. He stumbles some and giggles. Bill twirls the cane poorly, squinting at the screen.

“Disco Girl?”

Ford’s drunkenness doesn’t stop him from being self-conscious, it seems. He chuckles with a hesitant smile.

“It’s admittedly catchy.”

Bill crinkles his eye into a grin, bouncing a little.

“Hey, I’m stellar at keeping secrets, Fordsy!”

The song plays.

Saturday night is a night alright Time to groove till the morning light..

Bill knew of Ford’s guilty pleasure for the pop group, but the way he sang with such carefreeness for the entire three minutes had even the triangle surprised. Ford was similarly surprised and overjoyed when his companion also knew the lyrics.

At some point, Ford gets into the groove of the song and starts dancing along. Bill, also plenty giddy, follows suit.

Ford laughs between lyrics, a grin lighting up his features - the laugh booms around the Mindscape. It’s bright, hearty, and from the belly. Bill takes a moment to address the warm pit that laugh leaves in his body. He grins again and gets closer.

Their dancing stays separate for the most part, until Bill slings a hand around Ford’s shoulder and Ford grazes his hand long enough for Bill to feel it.

Bill freezes at the touch. Ford doesn’t, perfectly content. Slowly, Bill takes his hand away to stare at it with a wide eye. The part where Ford’s warm hand had touched his buzzes softly.

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol and other factors increases. Bill blinks. An odd feeling wells up the longer he keeps thinking of the touch. He’s thinking so much that he doesn’t notice the song end.

“-Bill?” The voice calls.

The addressed demon blinks again - must’ve spaced out. He keeps his touched hand suspended and looks to Ford. The human stopped dancing a while ago and realized his companion had looked off.

Ford must have gotten concerned, Bill realizes. It makes Bill feel…nice.

He finds he wants something from Stanford. It’s not the portal or eternal servitude; Bill knows that’s not it. It ties to the fuzziness he’s been feeling. He decides to figure it out.

He grins and laughs, not fake in the slightest.

“Hah! Do that again!” Bill thrusts his hand to Stanford, the implication being clear as day in his mind, which is starting to feel even happier.

“…Do what?” Ford asks with an owlish blink. He looks down at Bill’s hand and looks to his own six-fingered one, gears turning. It finally clicks, “Hold your hand?”

Seeing nothing wrong with it and susceptible to suggestions, Ford fulfills the request and bring his hand to clasp it around Bill’s smaller one.

The warmth from Ford travels up Bill’s arm and only adds to the warmth in the rest of his body. Bill blinks silently again. Oh. Wow, that felt…comfortable?

Bill slips.

Without registering what he’s really doing, he leans into Ford and grips one of his fingers with his hand, moving to sit on his shoulder. Ford makes a little noise of confusion, to which Bill only giggles at. In a second, all the alcohol is figuratively flushed out of Bill’s system as his earlier excitement dies. Ford frowns.

“Bill? Are you alright?”

Bill gathers himself with a chuckle, “Pfft. Of course I am, Fordsy.” He lies.

Bill’s getting oddly sleepy. He was used to this tiredness, however; it went hand-in-hand with the fuzzy feeling. He squeezes Ford’s finger tighter, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’know what? It’s been a long night,” Bill starts, temping down the slight fog in his mind.

“…Has it?” Ford asks confusedly. Even intoxicated, he notices the behavior switch in his muse.

“O-oh, sure!” Bill finds that he’s unusually tired. It must’ve been the alcohol’s effect. He hopes his stammer isn’t noticeable, “I mean, this stuff’ll give ya a heck of a hangover.” He laughs falsely again, snapping his fingers.

Their couch immediately turns into a simple, cozy-looking, bed. Ford stares at it oddly.

Bill leaves Stanford’s shoulder but doesn’t let go of his hand. It gives him too much comfort.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill physically pulls Ford toward the bed with impatience. Stanford stumbles at the sudden movement but follows anyway out of curiosity. He falls on the sheets, Bill falls after him.

It’s unsurprisingly comfortable. Ford had been low on energy, but hadn’t realized how tired he had truly been until now. Not bothering to take anything off, he sprawls out over the blanket.

Bill, meanwhile, lightly kicks his feet off the edge of the bed, sitting near Ford’s stomach. His feet don’t even reach the bottom. Bill stares at them swinging with attention and an oddly childish look in his eye. He giggles quietly before noticing that Stanford has already lain down.

Bill moves to hold Ford’s hand again and crawls closer to quietly lay next to him. Ford’s coat is made of fabric that Bill just found out is really comfortable. He snuggles closer to his side, making sure that the human’s sleep in the Mindscape won’t take him back to the waking world before Bill wants him to. He’ll let Fordsy wake up when he’s sober again. That sounded much better.

Ford doesn’t let go of Bill’s tiny hand - maybe he’s too tired to notice. Bill sighs quietly and flutters his eye closed.

In one movement, the karaoke in the Mindscape starts playing a slow lullaby on low volume and the blankets suddenly cover both Ford and Bill comfortably.

Bill turns his eye into a mouth and shoves his thumb inside, sucking on it soothingly. He squeezes a sleeping Ford’s finger tighter as he himself dozes off.

[microficmay]

Microfic May 2024

We are back, folks! Join us for our best and biggest year of microfics ever!! Microfic May is an open daily prompt challenge in which participants write a microfic a day in May. Here's the scoop for 2024!

We define microfics as works of fiction that are 50 words or less. However, this limit is merely a suggestion. We accept all lengths!

Open to all HP characters, ships, ratings, topics, and genres (as long as works are tagged and spoilered appropriately).

Participants must be age 18+ and follow DLDR, SALS, and YKINMKATO. (What does this mean?)

All prompts are optional, can be skipped, switched around, or combined. Just have fun and write!

For an extra challenge, try one of our optional ‘Weekly Challenges’ along with the day’s prompt.

To submit a work, add it to our collection on AO3 Microfic May 2024 or mention us on Tumblr @microficmay AND tag #microficmay2024.

Check the Info and FAQ pages for more info! (if the links aren’t working on mobile, try here)

🫶 Prompt list in plain text under the cut! 🫶

Prompts List 2024

Day 1: Create Day 2: Resplendent Day 3: Horizon Day 4: Decision Day 5: Dreams & Reality Day 6: Flare Day 7: Innocuous Day 8: Will Day 9: Agony Day 10: Rise & Fall Day 11: Curse Day 12: Vivid Day 13: Talisman Day 14: Humility Day 15: Nothing & Everything Day 16: Squabble Day 17: Worthy Day 18: Healing Day 19: Impatience Day 20: Push & Pull Day 21: Unhand Day 22: Precious Day 23: Mistake Day 24: Elation Day 25: Day & Night Day 26: Vex Day 27: Dandy Day 28: Fetching Day 29: Thrall Day 30: First & Last Day 31: Fulfilment

Alternate Prompts

Alt 1: Evolve Alt 2: Superfluous Alt 3: Idle Alt 4: Warmth Alt 5: Life & Death

Weekly Challenges (Optional)

Week 1: POV Challenge ↳ Create a microfic using 1st or 2nd person point of view.

Week 2: ‘A/An’ Challenge ↳ Don't use the articles 'a' or 'an' in your microfic.

Week 3: Format Challenge ↳ Create a microfic using a non-traditional format. Examples: epistolary, text fic, dialogue only, poetry, song lyrics, script, etc.

Week 4: Alphabet Challenge ↳ Include all the letters A-Z in your microfic.

BONUS CHALLENGE ↳ To be announced!

[toastsrambles]

One of the Best Sherlock Holmes Adaptations No One Seems to Know

I know that I’ve been mostly (read: only) doing Moriarty the Patriot metas, but I wanted to talk about something different.

I’ve been obsessed with Sherlock Holmes for… a while. Seriously, everyone I talk to is sick of this Victorian detective by now. I’ve also encountered my fair share of adaptations (shoutout to A Study in Emerald, a short story by Neil Gaiman and 221B, a poem by Vincent Starrett, for being some more of my favorite adaptations). But I’ve seen no one - no one - actually talk about my favorite - and in my opinion, one of the best - Sherlock Holmes adaptations.

Sherlock: the Musical (2022)

With a book by Stefan van de Graaff and Denning Burton, and Music and Lyrics by Denning Burton. It’s currently touring, with the full musical available, professionally filmed, on YouTube. The official cast recording is available on YouTube, Apple Music, Spotify, and more.

I could geek out about this musical for literal hours, so some of my favorite highlights will be under the cut. Spoilers ahead, so if you really want to go in blind, listen/watch first.

Now, important to note that this is not an adaptation of BBC Sherlock, like the name might imply. This is an adaptation of the original stories by Arthur Conan Doyle.

Firstly, the opening song, Streets of London.

This song gives you the perfect insight into all the major characters (sans Moriarty).

Sherlock Holmes, the famous consulting detective, is completely confident in his abilities. No criminals can escape: “not when you're messing with Sherlock and John/you just lose your freedom”.

John Watson is Holmes’ loyal companion, his Boswell. Whereas Holmes sets them up as partners, John sees things a bit differently: “right by his side is my spot/and I’m just fine writing lines of what he did”.

Lestrade is impressed by “this Baker Street detective”, while fellow Scotland Yard officer Alice is a bit more judgemental and skeptical: “he doesn’t have any friends”.

We also get this lovely chorus (00:54):

”Streets of London hide

Nothing from Sherlock’s eyes

This darkening plot

Is not what you thought, so

Are you watching close enough?

Blink you’ll miss this mystery unwind

He won’t be undone

Sherlock Holmes, always one step ahead of them

There’s only one you can’t outrun in London”

This song establishes the two main conflicts of the musical: the public perception of Sherlock Holmes and Watson’s relationship to Holmes.

Now, Holmes and Watson have a duet, Elementary, where their chorus reads:

“It’s elementary

Without a doubt, we’re the greatest duo sround

Elementary

The higher we go, the further they fall down

It’s just like gravity

How do we do the things we do?

It’s a natural phenomenon

That the best things come in two

It’s elementary”

And yet, Watson still says in the bridge: “behind every legend stand dynamic friends”. He’s behind the legend, in that he’s responsible for Holmes’ fame, but he’s also behind the legend; he’s just… not as important as Sherlock Holmes.

And, in case you didn’t notice: in Streets of London, the ensembles sings Holmes’ praises. Not Watson’s. The only person who notices Watson’s contributions is Holmes. Not even Moriarty does, not all the way.

Moriarty first becomes known when he plants a bomb that even Sherlock wasn’t able find- it was Watson who found it. However, the bomb never went off. Still, the story somehow makes it to the paper that Sherlock stopped the bomb.

The song Read All About It is something of a reprise of Streets of London, both in music and theme. It drills in the fact that Sherlock works alone, that it’s him and him alone who can save London. The way the public is whipped into a fervor of idealism is almost similar to Moriarty the Patriot, actually.

However, while the public places their faith in Holmes, he worries:

“Terror in London Nowhere to hide, fear in the streets, people are running Running to me How could I not see it coming? How do I not know what’s coming?”

See, the climax of this musical is the song One Step Ahead. Moriarty has lured both Holmes and Watson to Reichenbach Falls under the assumption that the other is in danger. Moriarty then holds Watson at gun point and tells Holmes that if he doesn’t jump, he’ll shoot Watson. In the end, Holmes agrees, and the song ends with this exchange:

“Holmes: I have to save John

So this is how it ends

Not enough time

Maybe death will be a friend

Moriarty: You? You don’t have any friends-

Watson: This time I’m one step ahead of you!”

Watson then tackles Moriarty off the cliff before Holmes can jump, leaving Holmes alone on the cliff.

The next song, Love Someone, is just- it’s so good. It can be read as both platonic or romantic, but the underlying fact is that Watson has shown Sherlock how important loving someone is, and how important it is to hold the ones you love close because “time is yours before it slips away”.

And, some more of my favorite lyrics from this song:

“It was love that took all my fear away If that love could be here and here to stay How would things change?”

“Love someone Love can hold the world until healing comes The greatest conclusion yet, when all is said and done”

“If you’ve prayed for a moment, pled to take their place And yet how quiet it felt, when you imagined their face Pure love, unchanged, a peace that carries your pain Time is yours, before it slips away”

And of course, the last line: “things have changed now”. The acknowledgement that Holmes is fundamentally different without Watson, and maybe can’t even be Holmes without Watson. It’s so incredibly touching.

Of course, though, Watson isn’t truly gone. We learn shortly after his funeral that he managed to survive by holding onto a ledge he spotted when making his way up the cliff in the first place.

This is where we truly learn how much everyone underestimated Watson. See, while Moriarty was the only one to see Watson’s importance to Sherlock, Holmes was the only one to see Watson’s true value. Watson is smart and competent; when Moriarty planted a bomb, he was the one who jumped on top of it with no hesitation (a la Captain America).

We wrap up with Streets of London (Reprise), where Holmes and Watson accept a new case and return to 221B.

Honorable mentions of stuff I ADORE about this musical:

Watson’s song Into the Shadow. Not only are the vocals superb, this song perfectly encapsulates how Watson has faded into Holmes’ shadow in the public eye. But his solemn acceptance of this - “if it saves your life/and they forget mine/then I don’t mind/stepping back into the shadows” - just makes it heartbreaking.

The fact that every single musical number is just awesome. A Different Story, where Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, and Alice interrogate a suspect? A Most Unusual Case, where we see the people who come to Holmes for help? The Greatest Mind, where Holmes and Moriarty first face off? ALL OF THEM are great, including the ones I didn’t just list. The lyrics, instrumentation, and vocals just blow me away.

The references to other cases! For just two examples: in A Most Unusual Case, the blue diamond in a coat sleeve is a reference to The Blue Carbuncle; and in Streets of London (Reprise), the recently engaged typist with a mysteriously vanished fiancée is A Case of Identity.

Also, Watson making deductions in Streets of London (Reprise) is just great :D

The way Watson supposedly dies at Reichenbach, and the subconscious message that it doesn’t matter that it was Watson who died instead of Holmes; either way, Holmes and Watson are dead. The death of one is the death of the other.

The way minor characters like Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft are portrayed is amazing. Seriously, I love the characterization here.

Just… I love this musical so much. It just feels like a love letter to Sherlock Holmes, and the passion behind it is astounding.

So, yeah. If you like Sherlock Holmes, give this a watch/listen. (Please, I really need to know that more people are aware of this masterpiece).

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 2

Bio-engineering from Rain World

vs.

The Only Thing I Know for Real (Maniac Agenda Mix) from Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Note: The propaganda contains spoilers for Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance.

The Only Thing I Know for Real (Maniac Agenda Mix):

This song is about Jetstream Sam and how disillusioned he has become to fighting, especially after losing to Senator Armstrong. Sam only knows how to kill and has no reason why he's killing. It mirrors Raiden (the main character) who fights people for justice and to protect the weak, Sam fights just because.

Every single boss fight in Metal Gear Rising is all instrumental until you hit "critical" points in the fight, when the vocals come in. Not only does it make the scene feel even more epic, the lyrics apply to both the boss being fought AND the game's protagonist, Raiden. In this case, it's about their loss of identity, feeling that they have to fight all the time and sometimes that's all there is to them, and yet when the thrill of the battle is over their doubts and inner conflict still remains. Sam (the boss you fight) actually showed up and fought you at the beginning of the game, a battle you are scripted to lose. There are no lyrics during this fight, because Raiden isn't at a point where he can face up to him yet; they don't understand each other, and Sam even tells Raiden that he denies his weapon its purpose, because the sword Sam uses is a family heirloom destined to bring justice until he was misguided/strayed off the path he thought he'd be on. Their conflict starts at this point and it rises until you finally fight Sam as the second to last boss. There is also a moment where Raiden disarms Sam, but the fight goes on. The lyrics cut off abruptly in this moment, and they only continue when Sam picks his sword up again. People theorize this is because without his sword, this whole conflict of whether he's using his weapon for what it was meant to or what he thought he would disappears (since he's no longer using it), and maybe if he would stop fighting or if he tried to follow his ideals again and not just fight for the sake of fighting, he'd resolve those doubts. We'll never know because he does die 😔 but as every other boss in MGR, he parallels Raiden, maybe the most aside from the final boss (in my opinion lol) & the way the soundtrack reflects this, as well as characterizes him greatly, AND generally goes hard as hell is honestly amazing. Play MGR yall

[bbygirljasontodd]

I just finished reading @lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks fic “Sunlit Snowflakes” and made edits of Rei based on the latest chapter:

Also, while making the edits I was listening to “Speechless” by Naomi Scott and I feel like the lyrics suit Rei and her thoughts/feelings

Putting spoilers under the cut

Dabi breaks Rei out of the mental hospital and dyes her hair black like his so she won’t be recognized

[illululusion]

I have not been normal about nerdy prudes must die since it came out so it seems its time for me to write my analysis of 'the summoning'.

I will put a cut down here because holy shit i did not think i was this normal about them this is long. also spoilers for nerdy prudes must die!

Now the summoning is what I would consider the climax of the show.* The scene answers the big questions of the show. Not by just stating the answer like the mayor does, it shows us. it also shows us the oh so beloved oh moment of Steph knowing she loves Peter.

The scene also uses some form of chekov's gun multiple times.

We've been told that the school was built at what used to be a black altar. this scene shows what such a black altar allows someone to do. especially in combination with the book.

A literal chekov's gun, the gun Grace stole and then Steph got is heavily implied to be used. (finally)

As i've stated before the love situation. We knew Steph and Peter had something going for them but this only confirms it.

THE PHONE! Steph thinks her phone is the thing she cherishes most, which is not a big stretch, we've seen her be willing to suffer injury to protect her phone. (a lovely little detail)

they setup Grace using the book against dirty dudes.

I may be missing something whoops but yeah,

now the scène itself has a lovely buildup. First the three are in very low energy summoning the lords in black. The frightened energy is just seeping out of them, you know this is their last resort. Then the lords in black appear, from a pure darkness, with a high energy slightly discordant song (the piano and the guitar clash a slight bit). This stands in contrast with the slow piano music under the teens throughout the scene. Within this song the lords in black seem unsurprised by the situation, they seem elated even. They also clearly state they are not forces of good at most they can be considered gray ("us spawn of the Black and White") however the other pieces of lyrics are very much against that assumption.

Let's look at some of the dialogue a bit more closely why not? I wont be looking at all of the dialogue because thats a bit too insane even for me.

"Out of the depths of Hell and back" Us spawn of the Black and White" "Cover our souls with robes of black" "And take up the arms of night"

This seems to me even like they chose to be in the black, they are from hell they're from the night.

"Nibbleline wants his sacrifice And Wiggly wants his wrath We dance around the pentagram And take all our kingdoms back"

The previous shows intent: sacrifice, wrath, getting what they deserve.

"You summon us once you summon us twice, You gamble it on a roll of the dice"

Now this is what predicts Grace's dirty dudes must die. it also seems to imply that Steph's father among others used the book foolishly, the chance of victory seemed to outweigh the risks.

"The devil has won it can't be undone The book has all but closed on your life"

Shows that the lords know the teens are in no position to bargain. They know theyre above them.

Wiggly: Don't be so formal, Stephie. We're all paly-wals here. I mean, look at us. We even hold court in your own tongue and form. Go Nighthawks! (Lords in Black laughing) Pokey: Our true forms would melt your minds. WIggly: Don't frighten them, Pokey, you nasty boy.

This is what we'll see more in this scene wiggly is the medium between the will of the lords in black and the teens. An interesting detail. This also seems to be Wiggly trying to make the teens be less guarded. THeyre showing some sort of "goodwill", like "hey we could easily kill you but we're throwing you a rock let's see what can happen.". Additionally, this also shows them being more powerful than the teens again.

"The Lords in Black will help you yes You stupid silly girl Why help you with the Jagerman When we can help the world!"

Once again a show of power, why even ask for help they're already there just show them what you can give them. They have got all the time for anything, theyre more powerfull than just stopping that jagerman.

"Steph: What about a bargain? We'll give you whatever you want. Just get rid of Jagerman!"

A show that the teens have no other choice. THe fact they have heard the lords in black say theyre from hell doesn't matter anymore. They're at a low point.

"Whatever we want we want we want Whatever we want we get Whatever you want you want you want Forever in our debt"

no other way to say this other than: "you fucked up kids"

Wiggly: "Oh, you'll hardly miss it. We just want what you cherish most."

hmmm understatements are fun. I love these paradoxical statements.

Wiggly: One of you must give up the thing you treasure above all else. Pokey: Do it, or die!

Once again a lovely power statement, though that's not what I found interesting. The interesting part about this is that they only ask for ONE of them fo give up what they cherish most. They could ask for way more, they've made that clear. So why ask for only one thing?

"We don't give a shit about your phone"

This is the one moment I feel like the lords in black loose their composure. My hypothesis? they don't like people lying to themselves when something is very clear.

"The Lords in Black the Lords in Black call us"

The chorus sing the lords in black call us, WHO ARE THE CHORUS I NEED TO KNOW.

"Out of the depths of hell and back Us spawn of the black and white Cover our souls with robes of black And take up the arms of night You summon us once you summon us twice You gamble it on a roll of the dice La la la la la la la la la la The devil has won it can't be undone The book has all but closed on your life"

JUSt one thing: A lovely circular closure to the scene.

OKAY thats the dialogue wooooo (theres more to be said about it probably but also I just My brain want to get to the next part.)

Okay Okay okay okay now for the fun part!

The lovely staging and costume and its so wonderfull.

So in the above image we can see the lords in black as well as the teens. As i've stated before the lords in black like to make a show in power and the dynamics are very much powerless vs. allpowerfull.

Now what the positioning on the stage does is show this contrast as well. The lords in black are all over the stage standing, moving, dancing. High energy high standing. This while the teens are sitting on the floor, all together, they're as small as they can be in this setting. This shows how little power they have at this point.

The lighting as well as the costumes adds a lot as well:

See the teens here? no special lighting aside from the effects of the lords. This is in incredible contrast with the lords. colourful and bright. This is similarly the case with their costumes, the teens all have quite plain clothes, nothing special for a costume definitely, we do have the more unique clothing to define each character** but that falls away once you look at the lords:

Wiggly: bright green light (so much fun green isnt used in stage lighting often i am in love), Green clothing, a suit with glossy pants a crown and of course the wiggly doll in the back.

Nibbly: SO PINk, but also fleshy pink somehow. the lighting isnt as obvious but it is still pink. here the sparkes return. The giant lolly. just the giant lolly.

Blinky: Interesting choice to have the face as obscured as it is. once again i cant say the lighting is very obvious but it is there. The purple orange colour contrast makes them stand out. when in comparison to the others his costume isnt as showy.

Tinky: HOLY SHIT THE EYESHADOW. which isnt visible because.... yes the lighting! yellow lighting! the outfit isn't as sparkly but because it is the brightest outfit of them all I doubt that would have been neccesary. It keeps the balance. I am also Biassed I love this getup.

Pokey: once again: LIGHTING! blue! but also, Pokey I feel is the least obvious lord in black in the scene, the positioning on the side of the stage across from Tinky the yellow and blue contrast how fun. especially as Wiggly (green) is in the middle. just so good.

I just wanted to add some more because look at how wiggly is so much higher in this scene, he needs to look down on the teens, but doesn't do that often, not even bothered to look at them wow. Also quick note wiggly seems the most bothered by the summoning, wonder why.

And whenever all of the lords are singing with their discordant choreography, the lighting goes all disco and far brighter. A great detail to show they're individuals but are similar. see how the light is not green here? yeah that happens whenever all of the lords are speaking.

All in all I think Nerdy prudes must die is now in my top three favourite starkid shows. and I will be using the lords in black as inspiration in the play I'm in currently as well because this is exactly the type of thing we were looking for. and also I am not going to be able to think about anything but this show for ages.

I highly encourage anyone to give their opinions or whatever they noticed because I need it I would love to hear them. GO NIGHTHAWKS!

1* Now this comes at a relatively late time in the (already very long) show. At the 2 hour point we've been following our dear cast for around 4/5ths of the show. Now keep in mind this is doesn't matter much, but I think it's interesting that they chose to have the climax at this point. The play being as long as it is means they had to have been very confident in their ability to keep the viewers attention and especially with the slow buildup.

2** OH MY GOODNESS I JUST REALISED HOW WELL STEPH AND PETER's PALLETTES WORK TOGETHER. like theyre both earth tones. the green and brown fit together so well, and then you also have the patterns, different but still similar enough to not clash.

[thefirstpaleontologist]

discussion on the recent hazbin hotel s2 spoiler regarding Alastor and Rosie from the recent leaks under the cut

well first of all holy shit I really did not expect Rosie

all the Alastor soul deal theorists slamming their heads against a wall rn

I’m gonna break down some of the lyrics and my thoughts on them cause I absolutely need to put them down somewhere

—————

“Reminder of who you’re talking to”

right off the bat this makes me think that despite everything with the soul deal there is a genuine aspect of likability here. like yeah all their interactions are undercut by the ownership aspect but both of them are charming people used to making people like them even when it’s not in their best interest. if their average interactions often fall in line with how they behaved in s1, then it’d be easy to ‘pretend’ at friendship, hence the need for a ‘reminder’ in the first place.

“I dealt with you fairly; been patient, it’s true”

i so badly want to know what the context of their deal is. Why was Alastor in a position to need help- her help? why was she in a position to help him? What did he do, possibly to her, that makes her think the deal is fair? And what is his side of the deal that’s required her patience? (I mean I think any interaction with Alastor probably requires patience lol) questions, questions

Edit: ohh okay so another spoiler actually revealed that Alastor made a deal with Rosie while he was still alive!!! he wanted a guarantee that he’d have power when he ended up in hell, and in return she owns his soul until he fulfils a favour for her. So we know why he made a deal with her, but not what his end of the deal is.

“remember my deer, you’re in my ZOO!”

ahhhhhahahahah I love that line. the imagery of Alastor being just an animal in a cage, the play on dear and deer, the connotations that the word zoo brings (entertainment, protection, exploitation) is all very fun.

“You are my pet! I say when to sit or stay, role over, or go fetch”

CHRIST. As she puts him in a literal leash!? oh I just know the radio rose shippers are gonna do some insane work with that one. the change in dynamic from what we thought they were- wow. The dog metaphor must rankle Alastor something fierce lol. But the power dynamic parallels Alastor and Husks whole deal well.

“You’re indebted till the day you settle your account”

what is the boundaries and rules of their deal? he has to serve her until he’s made something up to her? Does he owe her a certain number of souls? maybe he massacred a number of the citizens of cannibal town during his earlier days in hell and somehow she made it that he must return an equivalent number of souls? something along this line could make sense given we see her telling him about potential easy souls to claim when he first introduces Charlie to her in s1.

“I’ve served you faithfully for an age”

An age must be a long time to immortal souls in hell. we know Alastor died about 1933, meaning he’s been in hell for around 90ish years give or take a few depending on when the show is set. ‘An age’ in this context likely means a few decades at least.

Edit: scratch a few decades, more like the entire near century that he’s been in hell!!

“Contained my rage”

are you telling me that Rosie is what has been holding you back Alastor 💀 Rosie asked is anyone going to control this feral sadistic freak and then didn’t wait for an answer.

“Went off the air for years on your behalf”

as one question is answered many more appear. so Rosie is behind his sudden 7 year disappearance, but what did she need him for? and then the fact his first appearance back was for the hazbin hotel and Charlie Morningstar? the fact he then went on to introduce Charlie to Rosie and perfectly positioned Rosie to be in Charlie’s favour? yeah. what on earth could Rosie need that connection for?

“The least that you could do is fix my staff!”

Rosie just do him this favour lmao the deer is struggling. I think this line is also fairly revealing of their relationship. Alastor, at the end of the day, does not appear to be in any way scared of Rosie. he’s comfortable enough to touch her, dance with her, demand things of her- however long their ruse has been going has been long enough for them to settle their dynamic, to the point he’s somewhat forgotten where exactly her patience with him runs out. he owes her something, she wants something from him. the deal is about controlling him, not hurting him.

“Yours since the day we met!”

possibly my favourite line in the song. it reveals that their first interaction was also what sealed his fate. it’s such an ironic line too, to take something that in another context could have been romantic and sweet, and turn it so bitter and sardonic. with the flourishing sarcastic bow and all its just perfect.

“I say when to sit and stay, play ball or just play dead”

the dance they do together to this line is fantastic. the parallel between Alastor dipping her in the s1 song ‘ready for this’ and Rosie dipping (and dropping) him here is a cute detail. I think this is a reference to his 7yr disappearance (play dead) and whatever’s going on with his investment in the hotel (play ball). At a stretch, play dead could also suggest that it was part of Rosie’s instructions to lose to Adam in their fight (not that I think that Alastor could have really beat him, but maybe that was never the intent from the start?).

“At least not yet”

not entirely clear what the line before this one is as the editing chops it abit, but it’s clear Alastor has plans to escape the deal one way or another. I really liked the puppet string symbolism (‘I will be the one pulling all the strings’) showing his lack of control.

“The moves you make are mine and mine alone”

this is the last line we get from the leak, and I have to wonder if Alastor hasn’t managed to keep some things secret from her? does she know about Charlie’s deal with him? or was that part of her plan too? how far does her control reach? I think therell be some more song after that, but I think it’d be fitting for Rosie to have the last word in a song about how she owns and controls Alastor.

Edit: given that Rosie has owned his soul the ENTIRE time that he’s been in hell, i really wonder the extent of what she’s had him do all this time? what on earth could she want from him that in nearly a century he’s not been able to do it?

—————

anyway if anyone bothered to actually read all that I’d love to hear your thoughts as well!! this has made me so excited for s2. the song itself is a banger and I can’t wait to see the finished thing

[kaythefloppa]

Wild Kratts - Our Blue and Green World: Part 1: Review [Spoilers]

Welp, here it is, the Wild Kratts TV movie (not to be confused with the feature film they've been teasing us with since 2021). There's been a lot of hype around this special and season, especially with how much the latter was being hyped up during the hiatus. Let's see if the blue and green bros were able to deliver: Spoilers under the cut

Well, this is certainly an attention grabber!

This entire live action intro is shot and edited like an animated Wild Kratts episode, it's glorious.

Woah, intro change!

They said the thing! They said the thing!

HELP THIS IS SO RELATABLE. Also, THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING

Lmao I don't think they do it very often, but using animals/nature in their insults is very creative.

Also, whooping crane episode when?

This entire song is mercifully short. Like most character sung songs in Wild Kratts, it's not good, but this at least is clever in its lyrics and its visuals. It feels like a Disney reference at best and I am content with that. I also ADORED seeing the Draco and Walrus Suit return again. It's arguably the best musical number in the series. No, that is not saying a lot.

MARTIN WHY ARE YOU THE ONE WHO'S MIFFED YOU NEARLY MUFASA'D YOUR LITTLE BROTHER

CHRIS WHY ARE YOU MILDLY INCONVENIENCED YOU GOT ACRAPHOBIA FALLING FROM THAT HEIGHT

When I first saw the clip, I thought that they were going somewhere with this, like they'd activate Peacock Powers at the end when they recognized the compatibility and blue and green. But nope. Wasted potential is an understatement.

Also, where the fuck are they right now? In a previous shot there was Target the Chameleon, implying that they've been to Madagascar, but that is an Indian peafowl, and as far as I'm concerned, they don't live in Madagascar. Were they just having an off-day? These animals have little to nothing to do with the plot when they really shouldn't have, so I don't see why they couldn't have just shown a projector image or something.

Remember when I joked about the Wild Pony Power Suit returning in S7.... fuck you Apollo.

Man, they are eating it up with the animation here. It's hard to tell with screengrabs but man, is it fluid.

The first half of this episode is mixed. While it feels like the brothers are incredibly stubborn, it also does make sense for them to be this fixated on their favorites. So I can totally buy this. It could've been insufferable to watch, but it wasn't.

As if YOU haven't spied on them since the first time your dorito-headed ass showed up on screen

Did you find that funny? Because not only do they do a similar joke like that later on, but they follow through on that joke in the most unexpected way you will shit your pants when you first ingest it.

Oh my god if they make a Creature Power Suit off of that bird, I will take back any diss I've made, that is so beautiful.

Good to know that Aviva put the button near the chest and not near the back.

Maybe it's just me but this is kinda pushing it. Chris is literally getting his organs crushed, I think that should matter more than A) being right or B) trying to get 2 people to stop fighting.

I'm loving the callback and what this leads up to but ew, all this does is remind me about how ugly bright the color pallatte in S6. Really glad they fixed it in S7.

HELL FUCKING YES

This episode finds really unique ways of showing how the two different biomes are interconnected. It's like Rainforest Stew's (very brilliantly handled) message only to a larger degree. Kids can learn a lot from this.

I fucking love this episode, man.

Honestly, the way they write Paisley in the first half of the episode is very in-line with her character. Most shows that do what this episode does has them be out-of-character as a set-up, but here, she's just roasting the fuck out of Zach. Once again, recontextualized entirely in the climax.

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET TO MADAGASCAR FROM THE GODDAMN AMAZON IN ONE AFTERNOON THAT IS LIKE MORE THAN 1,000 MILES AWAY?? ARE ANACONDAS THAT FAST?????

Also, INDRIS!!!!! :D

I was frankly expecting this to horribly backfire but spoilers, it doesn't. This actually winds up working. Common Aviva W.

To be continued.... will the blue and green rivalry end? Will one prove superior over another? And will they be able to stop Zach and Paisley and save the planet earth? And will this change the adventures of the Wild Kratts team forever? Stay tuned for part 2!

Pros:

The live action segments.

The animation of the earth's model.

The musical number not being ass.

Paisely's catty behavior.

The Anaconda Suit.

The inventive ways they show how the stability of the Earth is complex. There are a lot of ways it functions and thus a lot of ways it needs to survive

The comedy.

Cons:

The villains do not do anything until the second half of this episode. In fact, they're left completely in the backdrop. I expected them to make their prescence known and for Aviva to invent the discs to get them together for the SAKE of fighting the villains. But no. It makes the stakes feel hollow, which is the opposite of what they should be gunning for in an hour long special that they hype the shit out of.

CONCLUSION:

It was an "okay" set-up. It did live up to some of the hype it had, but not all of it. Honestly if it wasn't for the second half of this episode, this movie would be mediocre or slightly above average, but no. They do pick themselves off the ground and... they do jump the shark. But we'll get to that next time

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

"Love, sins & roses" (TFP Megastar)

WARNINGS: Toxic relationships, emotional, psychological and physical abuse (mentioned), obsessive and possessive behaviour, the sound used is from Rule of Rose - "Love suicide", therefore there are going to be mentions (both from the lyrics and story in general) about suicide and SH and other related not-healthy topics. Canon and headcanons elements at play. NGL I really romantized their toxic relationship, which is bad. Long ass post. SPOILERS of the Prime cartoon.

Say where is my shame - When I call your name?

From the very beginning of... well, everything - things were not quite good. Or maybe, at first, everything was actually good, but by the selfish decisions done by many that were on the power, things started to go downhill painfully slow, like a snowball that grew and grew, about to destroy everything on its path and produce destruction.

Megatron wished to make a change in the already corrupted system its people and whole Cybertrone was suffering, only to be pushed aside and to watch how Orion, the mech he trusted and worked alongside with the same goal, be favoured and given the title of Prime.

As if he wasn't already pushed aside because of his rank as a merely gladiator - that hatred for the higher up ones grew up with that jealousy he felt after watching his supposed friend take what Megatron has been working so hard to get and become. And amidst the destructive rising and move of masses to follow his command, shared ideals and vision - a seeker followed him.

So please don't set me free. I'm as heavy as can be.

The war changes everything - it changed Megatron, and thus, Starscream. The seeker was well aware at how his leader was slowly overtaken by madness and a lust for power and killing. The leader saw his second in command slowly spiral a sea of hysteria, paranoia and to embrace the 'kill to survive' tactic. It became more evident at the dead of Starscream's trinemates.

Oh, Megatron would be lying if he said he doesn't hold that memory so closely to his spark - the other two seekers were killed on a mission against the autobots, one where Starscream was not tasked to go. And that day he lived to his name; wails of agony, despair and hysteria as he tried to claw anybot's optics out and his own, too. Thankfully, or not, that day the seeker didn't follow his fallen trinemates to the Well of the All Sparks thanks to having Megatron hug him close to the point of not allowing him to move, letting him cry and wail, scream and agonize until it fell in stasis.

That day, Megatron knew he wanted to keep Starscream chained to him. And it seemed like the seeker had the same idea - to be chained to his lord and not fly away.

I will do you harm, I will break my arm

Things got worse - Starscream's hysteric aftermath started to make him have those idiotic ideas that he should be the leader of the Decepticons and try to kill Megatron whenever he could. And Megatron was that close to offline him a couple of times to try and tame the seeker into submission, to understand who was in charge.

And even when both mechs would end up with wounds, injuries and energon leaking from their cuts and scratches... I'm a victim of your charms.

Megatron is damn as sure that he should get rid of Starscream - because if he wasn't working on being the 2nd in command and actually helping the cause, he was this close to stab his throat with those sharp digits of his... but why to do that when it feels so good to have the seeker hugging his arm, or sitting on his lap when he is on the throne? Or when he gets to see how beautifuly deadly Starscream was when he was fighting and the thrill of maybe next time actually get offlined by the seeker's claws? His angel of death...

I want to be dead - When I'm in bed.

Thinks the seeker as he is being held by the Warlord just so closely to his chestplate. Starscream can feel Megatron's spark beat and pulsate under all of that scarred metal of his. And it makes him close his optics and wish for the end.

His end. Megatron's end. End. End. End.

And he could end it right there and then... but doesn't bring himself to do.

I can be so mean. You can beat me.

And Starscream wants to cut any type of bond he has with the crazed leader - but at the end of the night, when he is deep in recharging mode, his spark wonders: Why bring justice to our name, by screaming like a wounded animal and the egocentric being we are... because we want to prove something? Or to have his optics on us?

I would like to shame you. I would like to blame you.

"I hate you so much, Starscream." - "Please, I hate you even more, my lord."

Just because of my love to you...

When they are not themselves, but like new found lovers that haven't seen a single glimpse of the war - share kisses, hold each other and let their sparks know each other in such a gentle dance.

And, love itself is just as innocent as roses in May. I know nothing can drive it away.

Starscream started to fear he was in love with the Warlord, long before the start of the war, long before his trinemates met their demise. The seeker would die before ever confessing it loudly. That his spark yearned for Megatron's love and devotion, to become his Conjux endura and to swear his love would live in this life and the next one.

And Megatron was in the same situation - please, to love the same mech that has been trying constantly to overthrone you, take your place, that gets those paranoiac and hysteria episodes and that is a total egocentric diva? A pain in the aft. But his spark wouldn't change it for anything in the whole universe.

Though, love itself is just as brief as a candle in the wind. But it's greedy just like sin.

Megatron has done a few... things to ensure his beloved Starscream remains by his side. Taking aside the beatings and psychological abuse he has done on the 2nd in command to keep him on a leash until he decided to snap another bite at his servo - he knew Starscream was a precious gem to admire, and that many bots ever wished to be the one to own said gem.

He has crushed a few helms, and sent others to a sure demise, as he kept the seeker on his lap, marking him to brand the seeker as his, and only his. Wanting to consume him completely.

Alone but sane - I am a love suicide.

"Become my conjux endura." He ordered.

"You are going to kill me sooner than later." He accused calmly.

"As if you wouldn't do the same the night after we bond our sparks." He pointed out.

"... Touché." He chuckled.

'Cause, love itself is just as brief as a candle in the wind - It is pure white just like sin.

How pathetic, he would say if he got to see his own death at the hands of that yellow autobot he got to break his voice box a long time ago. The almighty Lord Megatron, ended there. Alas, what else could he say or do when he was falling into the planet he hated the most to end in its ocean?

Oh, but even when he was dying - his spark was agonizing because he could feel Starscream's spark agonize. Just like the day the seeker lost his beloved trinemates. And while the now offlined Warlord fell, the stars cried and wailed as he was taken away for the sake of running away and living another day before the Autobots got them.

Alone but sane - I am a love suicide.

He is counting the kliks until he gets to aim at their throats and serve their helms. Or, get shot in the spark and finally get to meet his lover in the Well of the All Sparks. Wouldn't be so poetic to also have his cold frame thrown into the sea of Earth so his body could find again his lover's? And for their sparks meet and become one, so in the next life, they were just a single being.

'Cause, love itself is just as innocent as roses in May. It is pure white...

"Once we win the war - I want a throne, too - and a crown. Aaand-"

"For Primus' sake - when will you ever shut up? Or do I have to force you to?" He interrupted, growling.

"Hmph! Should have thought that before making me your conjux, my lord." He said, seeming offended.

But Megatron keeps a possessive servo on Starscream's hips, securely in the Warlord's hold.

Just like sin.

Vhaos out!