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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

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The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 4;;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them lmao - dubious consent, canon typical violence, lack of Jacaerys, death, blood and gore, Aemond - who forces the reader into holy matrimony in this one (oh yes it's happening), and of course engages in petty masturbation (it's not THW without him going ham on his own hand ♡)

Word Count: 15k+ (wowza i know)

Author's Note: Low and behold, part 4 is here!! Originally, this was supposed to be a 4 parts series, but that obviously isn't the case anymore. THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY - I had major issues with the tag list, and at some point, tumblr wouldn’t let me post this; I unfortunately couldn't solve those problems, no matter how hard I tried, so most of you haven't been properly tagged :") This update is a hot mess, and I haven't actually had the time to read through all the paragraphs that I wrote. I SHALL BE BACK TO EDIT

A huge thank you to everyone who's still following the story, though, and I hope you enjoy!

A war is in its midst.

When everyone else is readying themselves for the following decisive battles, you and Aemond are busy playing house.

Things get heated in Harrenhal, and one must decide when and where to pick their side.

The contact of the hot water upon Aemond’s ivory skin made the man shudder in naught but blinding pain. Achingly slow movements, followed by slow grunts echoed throughout the room – and Lady Tully stilled upon the silken sheets, moving her eyes over the book’s page for the thousandth time since he returned; thus driving all her peace away.

The baths Aemond determinedly took in the raptures of the late-night hours never failed to make her uncomfortable, and keep her on edge. Even so, being forced to hear the pained man move with such little stability and lack of confidence almost teetered the girl to the brink of madness.

Harrenhal had been in shambles since its proud conqueror beckoned his return on dragon back that very eve. Two young maids shouted for maesters, and Alys Rivers nearly caused a scene. As he got off his leather saddle, the Prince all but collapsed from tiredness and blood loss.

'He commanded his features to turn brave and taciturn,' his paramour had told her, 'as to not let a single hint of his condition spread throughout the Keep. My poor Aemond.'

The fool had been reached by an arrow.

An impressive feat, one had to agree – and wonder further on the identity of the courageous shot.

‘Struck right between his shoulder blade and chest,’ she had heard some lost girl utter, ‘It is a miracle he’s still alive.’

… Or the Gods’ cruelest punishment, the Lady compelled within her thoughts.

“Mmhh…” Aemond’s rugged breath deterred the girl to raise her glassy orbs from the confinement of the wilting pages. She schooled her eyes to stay above any level of indiscretion, and gingerly followed the trail of blood mixed with dirt, that seeped into and dirtied the once clear water.

Now that her curiosity was quenched, she could freely look away again.

Half a heartbeat later, she relented and surrendered in the face of his quarrelsome state. The Prince bit the inside of his cheek again, and raised his hand up to allow droplets of liquid to trail past his wounded shoulder… but to no avail.

“You could call in a maid, you know.” Her raspy voice descended upon his struggling body. Sooner than she may have liked, the Bliss of Riverrun closed her eyes, and concentrated on the languid noises that the Prince was making.

Seconds felt like pending minutes, until Aemond One-Eye graced her with a reply.

“I don’t need a maid to help me.”

Then that was that, the young woman soon concluded, returning her attention to the opened book.

'The Philosophies of the Riverlands', however, provided little to no aid to the situation at hand – and her overall station.

For she knew, perhaps far too well, that she had to play a different game than the one they'd engaged in, months prior to her imprisonment in that cursed place.

Insufferable man… she vexed him cruelly inside her head, I hoped by now you would be dead.

She raised one leg from the mattress that embedded her, and shifted it, so as to allow her limbs to hang lowly by the edge of the bed. Her thoughts formed and went as they pleased, but the girl settled on one final reach.

He hadn't even allowed Alys to help him undress. Suggesting her now was a deliberate waste of her time.

Not only that, but she still had to win his trust. Somehow, she promised herself, no matter what it takes, she'd do it.

Forcibly she rose from the bed, and made her way slowly towards his wide basin, fixating her eyes on the stone floor ahead. Her throat closed in on itself, and the girl pursed her lips into a tight line, whilst exhaling through her nose. It took a while for her to calm herself.

"... What about me?" She asked in a leveled tone.

Her gaze met his piercing orb, and the Lady nearly took a small step back. His face long washed the wave of shock from his sharp, Targaryen features – Aemond awaited her next words with a quirked up brow and a slight bite o'r his inner cheek. He seemed more than interested in her meek suggestion.

His wordless approval had left her speechless and, for a while, only her heartbeat emerged in her ears.

The Prince Regent trailed his eye hungrily over her extended arm. He took in a sharp breath as she grasped the rough sponge from his hand, and drained it of the putrid smell. She confidently brought it up to him – and teasingly trailed it over his hard chest, down to his lower abdomen, up again to his slouching shoulder.

"This… will hurt you a little bit." She whispered to him, skillfully averting her face from the man in question.

He gritted his teeth harshly, and almost let out a groan from his parted lips – with his dexterous and long fingers, he gripped the edge of the wooden basin, but dared not to look away from the kneeling Lady – choosing, instead, to focus on singling out her every soft and hard feature.

On her end, (Y/N) dabbed the piece of cloth over his wound gently, chanting inside her head to remain small and taciturn.

He shan't get more of a reaction from me, she promised herself through the span of an agonized huff, as she focused in on the task at hand.

Aemond's white skin revealed itself from the washed patches of dirt, and the Prince sighed a deep breath of contentment, as he felt his body be unintentionally caressed by her. His eye fluttered close, and a slight furrow of his tantalizing brow indicated the uncommon pleasure he took from their sporadic intimacy.

The two remain in awkward silence - the only noise that reached the girl's ears being the rattle of water and the occasional hiss from Aemond.

"... I'm sorry." She strained herself to whisper, whilst her hair fell seemingly out of place. "This looks as if it's painful."

The Prince Protector mirrored her stance, and glanced at her through the thick curtain of long, silver hair – the lilac in his eye complimenting the heatwaves of fire that danced across his marred skin.

"It's not painful." His gruff voice echoed in reply.

"... You –" The Lady began, but stopped on her tracks to level her voice again, by the aid of coughing in the back of her hand.

"You don't have to pretend in my company, you know."

She graced him with a forced smile, one she hoped seemed light enough to fool him. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't make fun of you."

Her eyes trailed over to the harsh stone floor, wrinkling at their sharpened ends – "When I was three and ten," she began, "My youngest brother betted against one of the stable boys: that he could ride faster than anyone on his horse, Middle." Her eyes spasmed close at the memory, and the girl wistfully smiled to herself, "The fool scraped his knees in that dreadful race. Middle threw him right out of his expensive saddle."

As she spoke, she brought the rough cloth over Aemond's shoulder blade, right above his wound, and began scrubbing the dirt that adorned over his skin.

"He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, so he made me clean it, in the stead of a maester." The Lady let out an airy laugh, as her nose scrunched up with a pang of fondness. "I have never seen a boy get so worked up over a simple scratch before."

Aemond hummed in admission – half relieved by the distraction she was offering, and half worried by the impending pain he would soon feel. He shifted from inside the basin, as if to reach for the sponge in her hand himself, but the girl simply laid her hand away.

Her musings came to an abrupt end. She retreated on her steps lightly, and offered the Crown Prince a quirked-up brow.

"You need to stay put, Prince Aemond. Otherwise, I risk causing you more harm than good." She swallowed thickly, and only shook her head, "Your wound needs thorough cleaning, Your Grace. And it is too far in the back for you to clean it by yourself."

She glanced at his face anew, and let out a tumbling sigh as he nodded his head again, trying his hardest to relax into her touch once more.

Part of him remained put up – the bulk of his chest and shoulders still gloriously hunched over, ready to bolt up at any given moment.

"... I hate to admit it. I thought he was exaggerating then – with the discomfort which he feigned was feeling."

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as she glanced quickly at the laying man, "But how can one make fun of another's state of pain?"

A sympathetic look was shared between them.

Her eyes softened in admission to his furrowed brows and descended features. In that exact light, she couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled her Jace.

"Pain makes us human. And it's a reminder for us: to really cherish our times of incandescent joy."

The break of a cold sweat kissed over Aemond's forehead; droplets of which gathered at the base of his left eye, where his leather eyepatch stayed secured.

The girl pushed down a disdainful puff, as her eyes trailed him over, from the rosy blotch of skin, back to his hawk-like eye.

"Leather retains heat." She murmured before she could catch herself.

The Targaryen Prince expelled a deep breath, and, as her hand came to rest over the buckle that secured his patch into place, he primed his lips into a downturned arch.

"It can't be good for you to always keep it on."

"The sight of it frightens others. I don't want it to frighten you."

"I've seen you without your eyepatch before."

"That was different. This time… is different."

The latter of his words sent a shiver down her bent spine. Nothing is different, she was aching to say. Her lips pressed anxiously together, and the girl offered Aemond a curt nod. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the nape of his neck, the Prince's wet palm came up to stop her.

His fingers shakily entwined with hers. The deep callouses of his hand scratched the softness of her open palm.

For a while, Time herself froze before them.

(Y/N) came to avert her gaze, but Aemond's eye feverishly searched for the relieving clash of hers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the Lady of Riverrun nearly choked onto the clogged-up air.

His silver locks curled slightly at their ends – the dampness of the room striking its claim over his perfectly straight strands of hair. In his own right, Aemond could be called beautiful. His striking Targaryen features might have ensured the favor of many young maidens, were it not for his rash and impetuous attitude, the bite that rested in his character – which no doubt spread like a disease over his life at Court.

"Look at me." Against his better judgment, and his innermost turmoil, Aemond allowed her small fingers to trail over the buckle of his blinder again. He drew out a comforting sigh, and, with her hand still in his, gently slid the leather off.

He sucked in a quiet breath, as the coldness of the air enveloped his throbbing eyelids.

The poise in his composure was cracking at the seams, with the passing of each second, during which she settled to remain silent.

Eventually, her hand came to rest over his face again. Her dexterous fingers began to leisurely wipe the sweat from his brow, his eye, by submerging them into the lukewarm water, and bringing them over and over to his clenched face.

"I'm sorry." She settled on to say instead, once the breaching of kind words failed to meet her. "No one deserves to be left without an eye. No one deserves such appalling cruelty."

"You appear to be sorry an awful lot this evening, My Lady." Aemond choked under his breath, taken aback by her gentle movements and sainty utter.

"I spend the better part of my days in the company of my own thoughts." She huskily reminded him, "... It's been increasingly easier for me to reflect on my past mistakes."

Wordless from her hoax admission, and desperate to feel her hands explore him further, the Targaryen Prince rose heavily from the dirtied water – his chest coming directly to her field of vision.

The girl let out a cutting gasp, as she turned swiftly on her heel, refusing to glance at his modesty, not any longer than she'd already had.

Her eyelids fluttered close, and she shifted from one foot to the other, but to no avail. For in spite of her desire to run away, the Lady found herself hammered in place.

The proximity between them laid out to be a problem – Aemond let out a frustrated sigh, and turned her head around with the clasping of his untouched arm. Two of his fingers came to rest at the base of her cheek and chin; the Prince let out a satisfied hum, as her body trembled in slight shock at their change of position.

"Gevie…" He muttered to no one but himself.

His cock stood proudly at attention, kissing over his prominent abdomen, trailing long past his belly button. Every now and then, white pearls pooled to the base of his length, weeping from his angry tip, trailing past his stones in the reach of the water below him.

"Look at me." He breathed again, and his sweet Lady obeyed.

She threw him a dejected look: half harsh and cold, half hardened and scorned. The tips of her ears matched the redness of her pale cheeks. Her eyes cast their curious glow throughout every corner of the room, yet stayed away from the scorn of indiscretion that called out to her, only centimeters below her swollen lips.

Aemond's thumb flicked once over her crimson labium, but the man sighed, seemingly discouraged, and settled upon gripping her dainty wrist instead.

"Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda."

The gentleness that oozed from his voice could have had anyone fooled. But not her. The translations of the words he muttered against the skin of her wrist were lost on her, but the Lady of Riverrun still singled out a most protruding word.

He had never failed to call her 'his tormenting love'.

The girl's breath rose and fell with each agonizing word that befell over her face.

"Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa." Aemond sighed against her wrist.

'I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin.'

Her words rang harsh and true inside her head – and, much like it was back then, her heart harbored no honorable intent towards the Trident's Terror.

He burnt your entire homeland, she chastised herself harshly, He killed thousands. Every day, even more find their end by the breath of his dragon. By the way of his wrath.

The ache in her heartbeat rang loudly inside her ears – her every pore aligned with her wish to run away, and her mind was screaming at her to retreat to a corner.

Comparing him to Jacaerys was a laughable feat.

"Let's… just finish getting you cleaned up, Your Grace" She struggled to finally suggest out loud, through the timid inflection of her outwardly calm voice.

She slithered her face away from his grasp, and began draining the sponge of the dark mud again.

Aemond sighed, and lowered himself back into the cold water – his lone eye never leaving the mould of her smaller frame.

"I heard that conversation… sometimes distracts the ill from the discomfort of the cleaning process, Your Grace."

Now turned to his exposed back, the girl's hand wavered over his punctured shoulder. She waited three, perhaps four seconds, before her arm finally breached contact with the wounded flesh.

Aemond took in a sharp breath, but remained otherwise silent, until she prompted him to speak again.

"How… how did such a thing even come to happen?"

Aemond's chest rose and fell with each labored pant. His eye remained tightly closed, his jaw awfully set. Her question registered into his mind, and a reply formed at the former base of his thoughts.

For a while, however, the One-Eyed Prince remained quiet – weighing the option of telling her the truth rather carefully.

"A Frey company was marching South." He hissed as her light hand came over his flesh, applying soft pressure in its wake. "The fog of the morning masked them from me – but Vhagar's shadow still went right above their heads."

The woman brought her free hand to rest over his lower back, and her fingers rubbed soothing circles into the dampness of his skin. "It was… very lucky that you didn't get more hurt."

She scorned herself inwardly, but kept her curiosity at bay. She wouldn’t ask him whether the company had risen victorious, or if he burnt all those men to the ground.

The latter option, in any case, seemed more than likely.

The Crown Prince tensed visibly, but didn’t scoot away from her soothing touch. A deep sigh parted from his cracked lips, and the man revelled at their sudden closeness.

He ached to talk to her, to plead with her to welcome him inside her heart – and into her bed. He could feel his own beat loudly, and his body trembled in unquenched lust and rage.

Still, he knew it was too soon for that.

Not once during their rash acquaintance, did the girl before he talk with so much interest about his day with him.

His thoughts trailed to Alys, and Aemond wondered if half her new admission was owed to her – if indeed the two women secured a friendship within the last two weeks, if his whore became her confidant, if she breathed in her trust in him.

He would have to talk to her later. Thank her, if he was feeling apt and generous.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in the shell of his ear, and the Targaryen Prince nibbled at his lower lip. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down; the coldness of the water gave him the strength to concentrate, by the sliding of small ripples down his exposed chest and abdomen. The ache of his wound was a small price to pay, if only to feel her knuckles working against his back.

"There we are. All done, Your Grace."

She rose up from her kneeling stance, wincing at the sudden change of perspective, and at the throb of her tired knees. She gingerly presented the clean set of clothes and bathing robes to him. Her head remained turned to the side, and her hand instantly let go of the heavy clothes, the moment his palm came into contact with them.

In the stead of returning to sit idly by their resting place, the woman graced him with a final look, and let out a faint mutter. "I'll leave you to it."

She wavered but a moment, and turned her stare to the ruined clothes; the ones that Aemond had so carelessly discarded on the floor, as he prepared for his undeserved nightly soak.

The shadow of a long-laid plan gleamed beneath her silent gaze.

"I can wash them for you tomorrow – after my bath. It might be wiser to keep the nature of your wounds hidden. The maids needn't worry over how much blood you lost."

Aemond's brows furrowed in slight shock, and the Prince remained wordless in the face of her sensible suggestion.

And yet her eyes spoke with so much sincerity, that he gleefully allowed the pang of hope to warm his unforgiving features.

"As you wish." He rumbled out, while forcing himself to move his stare to the folded clothes before him.

His eye trailed back to his hands' agile ministrations, and Aemond soon began to roll over his linen breeches, covering his half-hard cock with the help of the rough material.

A throaty groan etched from deep within his throat, however, as he reached for the pristine shirt.

The girl stopped in her tracks, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

The struggle he was undergoing would have been music to her ears – were it not for the solidarity of her position. For the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of her plan and her desperation to escape.

Thus, unbeknownst to her own better judgment, the Lady compelled herself to seek him further.

Although her words failed to assist her, the way she gingerly reached, with her hand wide and outstretched, made Aemond aware of her pending intent.

Their bodies were inches apart. The girl sucked in a hurried breath, and neglected to exhale it as the oxygen hit her lungs.

Aemond was burning up – and whether that was from the lack of fresh air within the confining room, or the first telltale sign of fever, or her – he was lost on saying anymore. His weakened arm slithered into the sleeve of his shirt, though the pain was long forgotten.

And instead of focusing on his poised movements, his glassy eye ran hungrily over her face and hypnotic features.

(Y/N)'s fingertips grazed over the light material. Her tired eyes softened at the familiar feeling. The threat of tears beckoned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them all away in a hasty movement. Melancholy ate away at her, far more often than she knew was wise to allow.

Still she remembered, if only for a moment, the raptures of Jacaerys' warm embrace. And how, in the heat of summer, that very same cloth felt against her heated cheek.

They must have had the same seamstress, the same tailor. Of course, she thought to herself in a bitter manner, after all, they are both Princes.

… Were.

But if she closed her eyes, she could pretend – No, she chastised herself fully, such a thing just cannot be. And you'd be a fool to attempt to it.

The magnetic pull between them trebly pried the two souls together. And it would be yet another minute, until (Y/N) finally took a step back, opening her mouth to announce the end of her intimate task.

Her eyes fell on the stone hard floor, and she carefully turned her back around him.

The long waves of her hair shifted over her modest nightgown, covering her mounds of flesh with a slight shift to the left.

"I'm going to sleep." She pathetically uttered, as the warmth that emanated from Aemond's form not moments prior, still fell heavily over her slight frame.

Mechanically she gripped the satin sheets and engulfed herself with them – a slight comfort came over her, as the coldness of the unused bedding fanned gently over her scorched limbs.

Aemond remained stuck in place, and a heaved breath rumbled from within his chest. The red in his cheeks would have put both their Houses' seals to shame – For once, he was glad she wasn't looking his way.

***

The rest of the night was spent in washed quietness.

And his Lady might have made it up: the dip at the edge of the bed, the smell of fresh pine and wildfire that caressed her in her sleepy state, and the slight "Thank you" that dabbled from her captor's lips.

“You plan to ride on dragon-back again? So soon?” The echo of Alys' voice carried her worry throughout the silent clearing.

The first rays of sunlight caught flame into her raven hair, lighting her features in such a way, that it accentuated her every perpetual scar and wrinkle. The fire inside her eyes could rival the one of a trueborn Targaryen, were it not for her strong outer appearance.

Aemond moved his body at a leisurely pace, not even bothering to throw the woman one of his usual vexing looks.

"Do you think dear nuncle will put a stop to the siege of the Twins, should the word spread about my condition?"

His cutting words rendered the woman speechless, and the Rivers witch simply clicked her tongue, whilst glancing at the green grass below her.

"War awaits no one, my dear." He asserted definitively, as he gripped onto Vhagar's long bridles.

The mighty beast let out a shaken roar, as Aemond winced once his wounded shoulder made light contact with her dark-green scales.

"Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar." He instinctively reached for her, and caressed her lower belly with one of his gloved hands.

At their calm exchange, Alys bit over her lower lip, harshly enough to draw her own blood. "You should stay." She managed to draw out, "At least a while – going in search of your uncle today, instead of tomorrow, won't make a difference to your brother's cause."

But her voice of reason reached deafened ears. For Aemond Targaryen was set on paying the debt he owed. The debt he agreed to take on, the moment his dragon clasped onto Lucaerys, swallowing the bastard whole.

"Everything matters at war, Alys." He hummed impatiently, while snapping his head in her general direction. "What do you think will happen to you, should Daemon reach Harrenhal? Your pretty head will rest near mine, impaled on a sharpened spike."

But if she told you to stay put, you would do just that, wouldn’t you? Her bitter thoughts chewed her conscious away.

Alys spat out a lowly curse, as she shifted uncomfortably in place. "Daemon Targaryen was here once, not long before you. He didn’t kill me then."

"Because you didn't matter back then." The Prince Protector of the Realm hissed through painfully gritted teeth, "You were no one to him. You were a wet nurse who merely spread her legs for him."

The man turned his back to her, as he wordlessly bound Vhagar's bridle over his wrist again and again.

"And last I checked, your cunt failed to inspire him."

Her mouth parted in a silent protest, and her green eyes widened in partial distress. "Still I should remain in luck," She choked out through a breathless laugh, "for it has never failed to inspire you."

"You are perfectly right," Aemond's laughter was humorless and brash, "And it is because of this loose cunt that Aegon nearly lost the support of Storm's End."

The Prince spun around on his heel's end, and trapped the woman in between his hard chest and restless dragon. "Sometimes I think you cost me more than you're worth." He whispered calmly into her ear, while trailing his index finger over the sharp edge of her jaw. "For speaking back to me, I could have you executed."

The finality of his words drew her body closer to the ancient beast, and Vhagar let out a displeased grunt. Amusement pulled at the corners of his downturned mouth.

"Still you should remain in luck," He mocked her with an airy laugh, "I find myself in an exceedingly good mood today."

The back of his hand came to play with a loose lock of her messy braid, and the Prince smiled at her stance and her bewildered look. "But you've been a most useful asset, haven't you, my dear?" He obliged her with a teasing smirk, "Lady Tully responded well to you, hasn't she? Tell me," He paused momentarily, as he trailed his hands to the narrow middle of her waist, and back up again. "Have you kept up your training with her?"

Alys' face fell into a frown, as she staggered a frustrated look. Aemond was toying with her.

"That dull book she pretends to read at night has the maps of three secret passages hidden amongst the latter pages. Two of them lead to that cell into the West Wing – but of course, she doesn't know that. The third one leads to the stables of Harrenhal."

Aemond hummed pleasedly, and the man soon took a wide step back, allowing his paramour enough space for proper breathing. "You did well." He smiled wistfully, "I should reward you well tonight. You may think of something you desire. I will see to it once I return."

"I would very much like you to stay and heal today." She urged him not a heartbeat later, surprising even herself with the intensity of her tone.

Aemond's composure broke with the licks of roaring laughter – one that was empty, and fell devoid of any feelings of fondness or grief.

"Think of something else." He urged her coolly, and dismissively pushed past her, to reach for his dragon's saddle.

"'Tis a good thing you shall never be a wife, Alys. The role of the worried wench doesn't suit you one bit."

"Keep feeding her half-truths and lies." He encouraged the woman with a final reach over her hand. He squeezed once over her balled-up fist – acting as both a promise, and a taciturn warning on what should happen, should she let him down again. "Regarding whatever else she may have to say… you'll report it back immediately."

With that, the Kinslayer of the Trident took off, leaving the promise of bone and ash behind his dragon's menacing ascend.

The Eyrie was, on all accounts, smaller even than Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the stronghold nestled the Arryns, hidden deep beneath the illusion of the smallest stronghold of the main seven Kingdoms. Despite its intermediate size, the Keep of the Giant's Lance deemed itself one of the safest places to be – Hardly a lie, especially now, Cain Waters ineptly hummed, once his wobbly feet carried him over the stoney threshold.

Despite its less-than-imposing size, and lack of sheer volume, (Y/N)'s sworn shield felt himself smaller than ever before.

How would he dare account for his whereabouts? Reason his shortcomings?

How could he hope to explain to his Lord that not only did he return empty-handed, without his beloved granddaughter on horseback – he returned without the notion of a hand at all?

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, it was Mira Florent who rested loyally by his side – her strength and stability allowing the Waters bastard to lean into her, if only for a fleeting moment, during the ascend of the narrow stairs.

"Take heart," She whispered, "Your Lord is a kind and understanding one. You won't be facing trial for this."

His mere reply was a solitary grunt, and a quick smile, dejectedly thrown her way.

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, Albar had remained behind. The mute man shrugged his head decidedly when Cain gestured towards the waiting castle, and Mira explained to him that the Vale scarcely left him feeling safe and wanted.

And he understood, perhaps far too well – the feeling of dejection a bastard boy felt, as he stepped foot into the land of his birth.

***

He'd been granted the comfort of a Maester and a hot soak, almost immediately after his appearance at the Arryns' Great Door.

The Lady of the Vale proved to be a kindred spirit, capable of great nurture, despite her lack of heirs to her family's ancestral throne. She gasped loudly at the sight of him. Her eyebrows furrowed in grave distraught, and her lower lip trembled as the healers informed her of the state of his right hand.

Her searching eyes reminded him of the ones of his own mother – neither particularly warm nor cold towards him, but fair and just in their own accord.

She almost decided against calling upon him to the Trouts' Black Council, but the young Oscar Tully had entirely different plans.

His eyes, as they were, were socketed by a deep, but elusive brown. They spoke and reminded him of a whole different tale than the one of his fair, poor Lady.

And it was Oscar's eyes, so similar in shape to hers, who bore ghastly holes into the back of Ser Cain's skull. His arm rose up, as if to cut off the man's retelling – his nostrils flared up in disgust, and his face twisted into a painful scowl.

"So what you're telling me… is that you failed to bring her back."

Cain's eyes hardened at her brother's words, and the knight nibbled on his lower lip, in an attempt to calm himself.

Although a brave and honest man, he dared not look in the eyes of Lord Grover Tully – he dared not see what lay beneath his wilted face. Thus, all his attention focused in on the chirping lass.

"Aye, my Lord." He mustered up to tell him, "I lost her to the One-Eyed Prince. We escaped Harrenhal, and managed to get as far as the Saltpans, but –"

The boy scoffed at his attempt to pardon and explain himself. He nodded affirmatively, and scrutinized Cain with his piercing gaze.

"You returned with an empty hand, Ser Cain. You failed: miserably."

His back straightened in an attempt to appear bigger, and the hot-headed lass rose from his chair in a hurling daze.

"Because of you, my sister is in the hands of that cycloptic freak. Because of you, we don't know anything about her whereabouts. She could be tortured, enslaved, sullied – worse!"

Lady Jane Arryn clicked her tongue in disbelief, and beckoned her guard to guide the boy back into a sitting stance.

"That is quite enough, Oscar." She asserted calmly, "We have no evidence of such a feat."

"Of course we don't!" The young Lordling huffed annoyedly, jolting on the brink of madness, "The deranged cripple wouldn't reply to any of our ravens!"

His face contorted animalistically, the freckles on his face being taken by the deep shade of crimson that coloured in his plumper cheeks. "And with you here, Waters, we don't even have the certainty that (Y/N) is still alive!"

"Oscar." Grover's deep voice echoed a warning through the quietness of the tiny Keep.

As if struck in the face, the youngest of the Tully brothers shifted in his seat again. "My sister's fate is breached unknown," He cried out in a collapsing tune, "She's our family, grandfather, my only sister! Pray tell, why does it look as if I'm the only one who gives a damn?"

The graying Lord and the narrow Lady both leaned towards a perplexing look. But before any of them could reply to his laid-out challenge, (Y/N)'s brother urged them further, as he hissed through his gritted teeth. "It would have been better for you not to return at all, Ser Cain. It would have been better for all parties involved to have sent me in his stead, Grandfather!"

His shoulders slouched forward, and the brazen boy fought with Grover's intense stare. "Had I failed, I wouldn’t have even returned at all." Oscar roared over the silent council, proclaiming his intent with a defying raise. "I would sooner have died, than see her be taken by that monster again."

"What would you have had me do, boy?!" Grover Tully raised his voice in turn, "You fool. Would you have had me send you away for her? Do you think your death would have made you a martyr?!"

Cain's lips pursed into a tight line, as the Riverlords before him bickered further. Even Lady Jane Arryn seemed to be left speechless, unsure of when or how to stop their arguing.

Family feuds were neither one's strongest suit.

"Do you think," His Grandfather uttered, "that if you were to die, anyone would remember you fondly?!" The red in his cheeks matched the one on his grandson's face, and the elder Lord broke out into a coughing fit. "Your sacrifice would mean nothing. And when the dust settled over Westeros, and the war was done, you would just be another casualty. Another body to burn in a communal."

Almost immediately, his eyes softened, and their deep creases faltered on his face.

The Lord of Riverrun grunted in fatigue, but still rose himself securely on his two able feet. He marched towards the huffing boy, and placed a wrinkled hand over his sweaty forehead, urging him to quiet down.

"It's not about glory, Grandfather." He spat out lowly, as his ears began to match his fiery locks of curly hair. "It's about family. Our family. It's about ensuring its survival."

The older man gave the lass a curt nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and turned to the knight with a downturned smile.

"There wasn't a knight more fit for the task than Ser Cain." He confirmed his judgment with a tired gesture in his direction. "He was knighted at five and ten. You are over your seven and tenth birthday, boy, and haven’t been even mirthed a squire."

Oscar sucked in a protesting breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room fall before him. His brows furrowed in a dangerous quarrel, and his blood ran hot. "Yet even with all the skill in the world, he still failed."

Lord Grover was losing his patience, "Yes, grandson, that he did! He failed, despite all the signs that pointedly told us otherwise – do you think you'd do an equitable job? When you haven't even once crossed swords in a Joust or Tourney?"

Nearby the aching knight, Lady Arryn renowed her position.

She whispered to her waiting guard, and the man took a step ahead, hitting over the chantry with the hilt of his sword.

The noise that erupted grabbed the attention of both grandson and grandfather.

"The turn of events marked by Ser Cain's departure means we need to readjust our plans." She commanded their heed calmly, "It is… unfortunate; that Lady Tully's sworn shield failed to protect her. Yet here we all stand, warming our bottoms on a mine of gold."

Cain should have been grateful for the distraction she was offering. All the displeasure surged upon him evaporated within the click of her tongue, and less conventional language – still, even he had to remain weary on the subject he opened.

"On a mine of gold?" Oscar spat out sharply, feeling his self-control disperse by failing him again. "My Lady, do you think my sister's condition is a situation of great rejoice?"

The Lady's blue eyes cut through the boy deeply, and the young man closed his mouth in embarrassment, before sitting down again.

She reached for the goblet of wine, and wet her lips with it, "Our strategical situation couldn't be better. Not once have we had a spy of Harrenhal successfully return. In truth, we didn’t even think it possible." Her lithe hand pointed towards the bloodied knight, and her eyes glimmered in mischief, "Yet here stands our living proof."

She elegantly rose from her ivory throne, and signaled the man to take a seat at the bent table. As he gingerly followed her lead, the woman spared him with a kind glance, and met his glance with her deep azul gaze.

"From what I gather, you spent the better part of a month undetected in the Strongs' Keep. Is that true?"

Cain nodded stiffly, and rested his bulky hands over his tired knees. "Yes, my lady. That I have."

"And you were knighted at fifteen?" She alluded to what was early spoken.

"Yes, my lady."

"By Lord Hunter Redwyne." She urged him to clarify, through the edge of a quirked-up brow, and the callings of a small smile pulling at her dusted lips.

"Yes, my lady. The very one."

Lady Jane hummed, seemingly satisfied by his short answers. She turned her attention to Lord Grover and his tiresome grandson, and merely asked Ser Cain again.

"And you faced the Kinslayer in combat, cut by a Valyrian blade, and lived to tell the tale?"

"... Aye, my lady."

Oscar's eyes remained unyielding. But Grover Tully glanced at the man before him, and offered him a wordless bow.

"Tell me, Ser, how would you like to command your own battalion?"

"You have to be patient." Alys chastised her deeply, as her luring features turned from flaccid to sharp. "Hardly enough time has passed since your last attempted escape – Aemond is still very much on edge."

The Lady's eyes turned to her. With the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and her fair features molded into a desperate plea, the girl looked more like a lost child, than an able and resourceful Lady.

Alys regarded her as such, and sighed deeply as she grasped onto her shoulders carefully.

"If I wait any longer, it'll be too late. I've already wasted three moon turns in this cursed Keep. I have to return to my family." The Tully spoke decidedly, leaving behind no room for arguing. She took a seat before the tiny mirror, that breached her modest vanity – a recent gift from Aemond, deduced by him to make her feel more like a proper lady.

The image that reflected within it looked at her like a dire stranger. The green silks she was dressed into, the pristine, braided hair that framed her pale cheeks perfectly; She was the vision of a flawless royal, a soft and polite maiden, untouched yet by the spoils of death and war.

'Would this be enough?' She asked herself desperately, whilst gripping the edge of her chair painfully.

Was this what Aemond had always wanted? The proof of her lack of autonomy, finally presented to him on a silver platter, as he returned from war every night?

Was he, perhaps, congratulating himself, every time he glanced at her, thinking himself master of the universe for making her arch and kneel?

Alys shook her head once more, and rested a hand over her bouncing knee.

"Patience is a virtue, Lady Tully. You needn't put yourself through any more unnecessary risks."

The Lady of Riverrun shook her head vigorously, finally snapping herself back to reality; Her actions were defying, and devoid of any capacity. Alys felt herself more confounded by the second. "I'll help you plan this thoroughly." The wood witch adverted. Her head quirked to the side in an encouraging gesture, and the girl nodded feverishly in reply.

Her green eyes widened in fair delight, and Aemond's lover lowered her gaze over the girl's book. "You memorized the passages well enough. Very soon, you shall put your knowledge to practice."

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh, and graced the older woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Alys" She played with her rings as she spoke, "Thank you. For everything."

As the elder woman finally left her Quarters in favor of bringing out the order for dinner, (Y/N) let out an aggravated groan.

Her long pretense would surely make her nauseous. But she would be a simpleton indeed, to place all her trust in Alys.

The walls preleened with the doom of silence. A cold breeze dug its way deeply into her spine, and the silent taste of passing and demise left a sour taste in her parted mouth.

***

Aemond began dinner as he wontedly did every day – praying to the Warrior to grant him strength in battle, to the Smith, to mend all that was left broken, to the Father, "to shine his light", and lead their souls out of the brink of darkness.

Each and every time, without fail, the girl would bring the pristine napkin to her mouth, masking the obvious way her lips would quirk into a most unyielding smile. His pious speech, and the way his hands painfully clasped together, begging for the blessing of resolve, made her scoff in blinding wonder.

Was he even aware of the words he mostly muttered? Did he ever stop to assess himself throughout the day, and realize the sin in which he debaucherously bathed in?

As his speech came to an end, the Lady preleened forward, grabbing a hold of the boiled-up stork.

How lovely it was to sit between comfort and chaos.

"You've never been one to speak much during our time spent together." Aemond remarked through the rumble of a solitary hum. "Yet I had hoped this last week softened your resolve, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose in slight discomfort, as her eyes focused on the leisure movements of his bigger hands.

So he was softening up.

She opened her mouth almost immediately, but her hesitant eyes danced around his blinding stare. Her plump lips pressed into a hard line, and she exhaled loudly through her nose, in an attempt to ground herself.

"Not at all, Your Grace, I assure you." The cluttering of her fork came to a hoisted end, as Lady Tully aligned her head to focus directly on the One-Eyed Prince. "I should love nothing more than to talk to you… Please, do advise me on what you would like most to hear."

She fidgeted nervously with her silver rings – a quirk she developed whilst imprisoned in the Strong's Keep – and gingerly awaited his reply.

Your Grace. Your Grace. Your Grace.

The stillness in her speech and eyes drove the man effectively wild.

"Aemond." He stilled her faction through the reign of a distorted sigh.

She regarded him with a petrified stance. Her hands fell heavy over her legs in the wake of anticipation.

"... I-I beg your pardon?"

"Aemond." He repeated his name again, "We already break bread and sleep in the same bed." His lilac eye rose from his plate, and singled out her reddened cheeks. The man paused a while, as if to weigh his words carefully, and his cold, glassy orb, hungrily ran over her form. "It seems inevitable that we'd call each other by our given names. Yet you never once said mine throughout."

The girl could feel her throat dry up. While still maintaining his awkward stare, she reached for the glass of wine that rested by her left side. She wrapped her hand around its stem, and brought it to her paling lips.

The liquid courage slid down her throat in a quick, though burning manner, and (Y/N) had to swallow down an erratic cough. Her brows furrowed amidst, as she picked her words out slowly.

"I have called your name before, Prince Aemond. Many times throughout the moons, in fact."

He smiled at her perturbed reply, and shook his head in coy distraught.

"Not without the honorifics." The man clarified in a pleading tone, his voice growing hotter now. "... Just say my name." He sighed defeatedly. His hand gripped the edge of the table, silently, as the Targaryen Prince could feel his mind running with a thousand thoughts per passing minute.

The silence ate at him alive. She drowned the wine in a swift swing, and slouched forward to pour herself another glass.

She was too sober for this.

Lucaerys, Jacaerys, Cain.

Part of her wanted to pluck his eye out. Part of her wished nothing more than to make fun of him. Laugh, perhaps, at his desperate indiscretion. Do something – anything – to gauge a reaction out of him.

Any sort of reaction, that would make her pestering feelings for him leave her heavy soul.

Surprising even herself, adamantly going against her own wishes, the woman caught herself breathing out.

"... Aemond."

Unexpectedly he moved, by jumping to his ready feet, fully disregarding the oak chair as it hit the floor in a most perused manner.

The pang of noise alerted her, and seemingly, the guards outside. A while they remained in silence, listening in to the clash of metal that announced their unsure shifting.

But they wouldn’t come inside. The girl was lest aware of that.

As time pressed on, Aemond remained hammered in place, heaving out his weighty breaths and clasping his hands in aching fists.

Her eyes momentarily left his shadow – to turn again towards the poach of wine, and empty another glass in rapid gulps.

The heavy atmosphere inside the room hung lowly over their tired heads. (Y/N) resumed her mellow eating, wincing at the shakiness within her hands. She grabbed another piece of the boiled meat, though Aemond's stare soon made her drop it, and the girl clicked her tongue in disbelief; grabbing it instead with a piece of cloth, and securing it into a tight knot.

This time, it was her actions that had failed her. And perhaps it'd be her ready words that would prevail.

"Aemond." She spoke again, this time more confidently than before. The bitter liquor was burning her throat, her chest, her heart. She felt her limbs heavy – with both anticipation and frustration - borne out of lack of relief. She wanted to slap him, to hit him, to crush him beneath her feet.

She wanted to run away, to stay confined, forever inside this room, forever astute to what was going on in the outside world.

She wanted to feel something.

She wanted…

"Yes." Aemond encouraged her softly, and her attention came back to the raptures of the present tense. "There we go." He worded out, keeping his tone barely above a whisper.

Neither could tell when or how it happened – but Aemond's body was inches away from touching hers. The heat emanating from his beating heart washed over the meek form of the tipsy Lady. His Lady.

She gulped painfully, and the Prince could feel how his hands started spasming with the need to feel her. His nails bit the inside of his calloused palm, leaving deep and angry marks inside them.

His prominent veins shifted with his every faction. His face morphed into hopeful disarray.

"There we go." He repeated gently, "I want to hear your laughter. You never once laughed with me."

Her stare was hard to decipher. And yet confliction danced across her face. Aemond turned serious, and the stammering of his hands came to an untimely end. His eye bared holes into her reddened face; and the Lady humorously thought, if only for a moment, that it was a lucky thing he didn’t still have both his eyes. For such a stare would be embedded in her subconscious, bringing forth her swift undoing.

The corners of her mouth felt painful to bend and break. Shakily she smiled at him, and opened her mouth in shocked reclusion.

A shy laughter erupted from her unquenched throat, and the woman shuddered, surrendering the reins of reason to the drunken thoughts that sieged her.

Her laughter wasn't her own. The languid movements of her hands, that trailed over Aemond's chest, were not her own.

His finger came to caress her cheek. Her nose. Her brow. Her lips. Her mouth. The Crown Prince sucked in a dangerous breath, and secured his left arm loosely around her waist.

"Good girl," He spoke tenderly, his voice going from gruff to rough, "Such a good girl for me." His fingers combed through her messy braids, marking their swift undoing – taking a step back, he could feel the heat leave his head, in the favor of traveling lower, to meet the almost flaccid cock confined in the tightness of his pants. "Say my name again. Laugh again." He commanded in a pleading meowl. His lips twitched in anticipation, and his eyes trailed lower, lower still, from up her face, down to her soaring bosom.

"Aemond."

"(Y/N)."

A solitary look of shame was shared between them. Perhaps pushed forward by the only remaining faction of rationale, the two placed a step in between each other, but even that proved to be too fickle of a barrier to keep them whole apart.

Aemond reached to cup her face with his own trembling hand – on her end, the girl's digits trailed over from his high cheekbones, down to his prominent cupid's bow, in an all but gentle caress.

"Avy jorrāelan." He hissed through painfully gritted teeth, allowing his head to rest in the crook made of her shoulder blade and neck. "Avy jorrāelan." He repeated, the vulnerability in his voice making him lose the hold he had over himself.

"Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao." His feathered breath came into contact with her dainty neck. (Y/N) gasped lightly, as she felt the first of his many kisses being tenderly placed over her jaw and neck.

Her head was pounding, and her eyes were screwed shut, as the coldness of the wall hit her in perused waves. The impropriety of the soft moans and sighs that filled her ears to the brim left her confused and wanting.

The worst of it was that she didn’t know whether they came from her or him.

She felt as though her head was being harshly held below the water, and the girl clawed at her dress to loosen her tight bodice, which seemed to constrict even her erratic breathing.

Aemond's attention moved from her earlobe back to her lips. He felt how her hands contorted sporadically, and he placed his own palm over hers, to put an end to her hasty movements, and give her a sense of calmness. His fingers suddenly entwined with hers, as his form hovered above her. His throat etched with a lousy moan, and his mouth finally crashed with hers.

(Y/N)'s eyes opened at the shocking scene, and her lips suddenly parted, either to beg or to protest against him, but Aemond's hot tongue found entrance into her warm cave – deciding instead to deepen the kiss, and press himself further against her smaller form.

The outline of his throbbing cock molded against the shape of the woman's thigh, and the Prince Protector of the Realm let out a pleasured hiss, once her insistent writhing ended up brushing up his weeping tip. "Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa." He mumbled against her swollen lips, "Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī."

She let out a fatigued whimper, and swiftly turned her head around, putting an abrupt end to their meek and vicious pecks.

"What's wrong, hmm? Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir."

Aemond's lips were soft and tender, leaving behind an almost vivacious bite over her exposed parts. His pace had been filled with an animalistic hunger; the longing inside his eye caught her unprepared, and her lips parted with the desire to feel something – anything – that his palpable mouth would keenly offer.

(Y/N) shuddered with her eyes closed, and grabbed a hold of his long, white hair, leading the man closer yet to her swelling heat.

The way in which he held her should have felt so very wrong. But at that moment, the only thing she could do was extend her arm back up to him, and guide him with an insistent pull over his silky locks: encouraging him to bring forth his descent upon her lips.

She disregarded the way a figment of her psyche screamed at her. To stop her ministrations, to slap his calloused hands away from her. For if she kept her eyes closed, and focused solely on the shape of him, then she could almost pretend that the man before her had nothing to do with her beloved Jace.

She could almost pretend that he was Jace.

Aemond's pupil was left blown wide – so much so, that the lilac of his iris could almost be left neglected. He wrapped his hands around the lady's thighs, and hoisted her up to meet him by his narrow hips. Both moaned into the other's mouth, and the Prince soon found his way into the raptures of the silken bed.

His heated cock kissed the outlines of her soaked cunny. Aemond sighed deeply over the arch of her neck, and pawed away at her untouched bodice.

(Y/N)'s hands rested still upon his eyepatch, and, with a swift and hasty movement, she yanked it off his sculpted face.

"We need to stop…" She moaned, defeated, and felt how Aemond's body stiffened up below her, as the harsh realization finally hit them both.

She had uttered the words aloud.

Half expecting him to blow out fuming, the woman tried to pry herself off his fevered body, but his hands reigned like iron shackles over the inside of her spreading thighs.

"Do we?" He whispered lowly, whilst leaning in to steal another kiss from her again.

"We shouldn’t." She strained herself to say once more, and Aemond nodded, still chasing her lips with his.

She melted into his reluctant touch, and hummed against his beating heart. His hands dug deeply into her resting sides; his fingertips scattered over her translucent spine, leaving their possessive mark. "This isn’t right."

"I know, I know," He gasped, "Seven Hells, I know…"

"Yn nyke istan zarvīzis," He pressed a finger over her swollen lips, "Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis."

With the last ounce of her strength, she bit over his lower lip, dragging a wanton moan from out of his rosy lips.

"Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa..." He chanted, while latched onto her burning sear, "Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī."

His High Valyrian had made her dizzy. And at first, she tried to pay his words her mind, she tried to grapple and understand what he was saying.

A starved meowl left her panting lips.

"You can tell me to stop," The words that poured out of his mouth washed upon her like a rippled tide, "You can tell me to stop… and I will..."

Her body quickly arched against him; her shaky hands came to rest over his hips. She laced her mouth again with his, expecting rough, dominant kisses – but Aemond's hands propped themselves loosely against her cheeks, his thumbs pliantly stroking her with untoward devotion. His single eye drank her in with reverence.

"Please…" He whimpered into her mouth, "Avy jorrāelan." He confessed to her, again and again, trying his hardest not to take her against the cold floor – and not fuck her straight into the messy mattress.

Her limbs felt heavy. Lacking their autonomy. The body she was nestled in still wasn't her own.

"... Why?" She asked him disdainfully, sporadically, as his index finger came to pry open her haughty entrance.

His eye widened in perplexed ruin, but the Prince soon stumbled over his words again.

That bastard Jace must have taught her the gist of that.

"... I wish I knew." Came his sole and sincere reply.

Just like that, her eyes welled with the threat of tears.

His hands, his hold, his voice, his mouth. It was all wrong. In truth none could ever hope to feel right.

Flashes of her old lover, of his baby brother – who was so small the last she'd seen him –, of her sworn shield came into view. All of them, gone as if they never were. All of them, with their memories trampled deep beneath her sprawled-out form.

She wasn't a woman of the Faith. Not after what had happened. Not after the spoils of war that she, herself, felt like angry whips upon her skin. But her eyes fluttered close, and she begged the Mother for forgiveness, whilst a tear rolled off her ticking cheek.

She brought a hand to her wobbly lips, and began to violently rub away any remaining trace of Aemond's presence.

She was disgusted. With him, with herself, with the world, with the image of her Jace – that surged in her mind the second she blinked, the moment that she jolted awake in her misery.

On his end, (Y/N)'s display of pure abhorrence failed to falter Aemond's lustful grief. Why, if she did not desire him, did she fall into his arms again and again?

Love was the death of duty. And longing was the doom of all.

"Fucking cock tease…" The Prince growled, grief-stricken, "How much longer are you going to give into me, just to push me away?"

His patience had been running thin. The ache in his breeches was long forgotten. In its stead, the urgent sting in his heart dragged the man into the pits of madness. "What is it this time?" He groveled over her closed legs again.

Her recuperation had been jovial and quick. Adrenaline replaced the pain and shame, and the woman tried to get off the bed, put as much distance as she knew how in between her and the ravished Prince.

For the first time since he came to be, Aemond would not let her escape his clutches. As she moved backwards, he persisted forward – following her wobbly feet throughout the room with the spare of his predatory eye.

"Y-You said –" She tried ceaselessly to accuse him. "You said you wouldn't –"

"And you're right. I meant every. Single. Thing. I told you." He growled into her frightened ear, as his hands came to cage her, trap her under the seclusion of the hard, stone wall.

"You're mine." He hissed desperately, as he clasped her jaw to face him. "You've always been mine, you fucking harlot. From the moment you stepped foot into Harrenhal, your life belonged to me."

Perhaps Aemond was right, and she was nothing but a harlot. A treacherous swine that hung onto whatever he could give her - so starved and devoid of love and warmth, that she'd dare to stoop so lowly with him.

Aemond descended his unquenched rage over her exposed neck, and began leaving tender love bites all over, in spite of her lackluster pleas.

(Y/N)'s head felt like it was about to explode. She felt sick to her stomach – the wine and the distraught both built up inside of her. All she wanted now was to be left alone. For Aemond's touch felt oddly comforting, and her tired eyes began to close. "You drive me insane." She heard him choke.

She wanted to open her mouth. To urge the Prince to stop; but her word hole was sewn shut, taken over by the grip of feared confusion. While his hand hoisted her up by the waist again, her hand went around him, to grab onto whatever she could find. Finally, she stopped at the dragon-glass dagger, that securely latched onto Aemond's waist. Effectively, she wrapped her fingers around its silver hilt, and sheathed it out of its confinements.

"I swear on whatever God you want me to, I'll slit your throat if you don't stop touching me –" She wailed into Aemond's form, as she felt him stiffen up in tumultation.

His nostrils flared up at her attempt to intimidate him, and yet… his face looked most serene, as the cutting edge of the dagger reached close to his ivory skin. She raised her brows at him in utter surprise; for she expected him to surrender. His arms snaked away from her, and Aemond watched her intensely with his piercing gaze.

She could kill him, consequences be damned. And if she faced trial for this, then at least she'd have taken out a Green and Vhagar.

Her hand was shaking. Her breathing became erratic. She'd held a blade on multiple occasions; she'd fantasized about cutting Aemond's throat more times than she could bring herself to count. And yet…

His lack of movement – of worry – rattled her endlessly. She wanted to scream at him, to push him, to cut him. But for some reason couldn't bring herself to do it.

The realization that she just couldn’t do it made her almost drop the knife from the tight hold she'd kept it under.

"Why aren't you the least bit worried?" She spat out lowly, with her body trembling and her jaw set tight.

Aemond remained quiet and taciturn. His eye fixed her face carefully, and his hand gently wrapped around her quivering wrist. "Come on now…" He whispered to her, and watched how her eyes filled with the endless tears of frustration, how the hot droplets rolled down her reddened cheeks.

It would take another moment for her to drop the blade.

A moment she would forever grow to resent.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed through a breathless sob.

Oh, how she wished to hate him. Hate him as she did when they first clashed swords. Hate him as she did when she heard Jace talk about Lucaerys' death.

"Liar." Aemond rasped in acknowledgment.

And, just like that, the damage had been done. The blade rested back into his hand within an instant, and Aemond hit the wall behind her with murderous intent. "Fucking liar." He whispered again, breathing less and less sporadically, trying to wash his nerves away.

"I have been so good to you. But no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for you. Hmm?" He shook his head adamantly, and dug his fingers into the cold tiles of the cursed stronghold. "I am a patient man. But I will not wait a minute longer."

Her face twisted into a painful scowl, and the girl pushed over his chest roughly, but Aemond was quick to deny her exit. "This is not ideal," He muttered lowly to himself, "Yet you need to be taught a lesson."

"What are you d–"

Her words died upon her lips. Aemond hummed in dissatisfaction, and immediately brought the blade into her view.

She let out a scream of pure horror, but his pliant mouth silenced her with a scorching kiss. Her whole body was shaking, and the Prince Regent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Cease your crying, you hateful woman." He chastised her cruelly, "The fucking Gods sent you to ruin me."

At that moment, she wasn't above pleading. Her knees wobbled in place, and her orbs frantically searched for a way out. For something to grip and swing at the man before her.

Aemond's eye softened at the sight of her. Despite the pang of guilt he felt, a teasing and self-assuring smirk formed at the corners of his upturned lips.

So Jacaerys hadn't told her. He never mentioned their Valyrian way to her.

His triumphant feat soon washed away, as her trembling hands came into contact with his. "Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon." He told her adherently, truthfully, despite the obvious language barrier.

He took a moment to regain his composure. Grab a hold of her balled-up fists and remember the ancient words he'd only ever read about in his history books.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sỹndroti vāedroma."

He ripped the sleeve from his linen shirt, and placed it over their entwined fingers.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sĩr. Izuli ampā perzī."

The blade finally pressed down, over the softness of his left palm. Aemond winced at the sudden pain, and made a mental note to only nick the frightened girl with it, when the time came for that.

"Prūmĩ lanti sēteksi. Hen jenỹ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozündesi."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened to a comical amount. Somewhere along the way, it seemed, she grew aware of Aemond's intent. She refused to show her hand to him, placing them both behind her back, and holding on for her dear life.

He let out a disapproving grunt, and reached his bloodied hands to her, yanking her right hand from underneath her strong grasp.

"No! No –!" She kept on screaming, and the guards outside shifted in place, before they fell under their oath of silence once again.

The cold and slick edge of the dragon glass pressed lightly against her writhing palm. Aemond made a smaller cut, and carried on with his rapid mumbling.

"Sỹndroro öñö jēdo. Rỹ kīvia mazvestraksi."

His very fist came to cut over his lower lip. His gory hand then reached for her jaw, hammering her in her place, and a sharp sting reflected on her weary stance. Aemond profited off the moment, to ease the dagger into her waiting mouth.

The metallic taste flooded her senses – the girl saw red before her eyes, and failed to register how his fingers came upon his and her forehead, painting them over with a ghastly symbol.

The Targaryen Prince reached for her hand again, and pressed her wounded palm cohesively with his.

"Following the tradition of my House from before the Doom of Old Valyria, I, Aemond of House Targaryen, bind myself to (Y/N) of House Tully, by blood, by soul, by life –"

"NO!"

" – And I pledge to her: that we are now one flesh, one heart, one body. Now and forever."

As he finally pried his limbs away from her trapped body, Aemond allowed his lips to feathery trace over her twisted mouth. She glanced at him, with wide-set and teary eyes.

"Fuck your fucking pledge."

Some grand venue she received.

A single question hung loosely into the air.

"Are you going to rape me now?"

She scarcely registered her own words as they left her mouth.

Aemond's eye widened at her query, and the Targaryen bit over his lower lip, as a deep grimace morphed the fairness of his features. He looked almost dumbfounded by her made assumption.

As soon as it came, the look of utter betrayal left his face.

"You would slit my throat with the knife." Was his mere reply.

***

Sometime along the night, he left.

The mighty roars of Vhagar registered themselves in the far-away distance.

That night, and only that night, she allowed herself the sacrilege of prayer. And she did so, again and again, pleading to the Seven for a blind arrow to reach his neck.

On the back of Vhagar, Aemond shuddered away from the impossible waves of heat, that licked deliciously at his stiffened cock; whenever her breathing would reach his ears, he felt tortured, trapped beneath the swell of lust and wanton desire.

Despite his abhorrent decision, he knew what their marriage meant. He knew all too well what his cruel bind had done, and yet… he felt no plausible remorse for the situation at hand.

The support of Storm's End, Floris Baratheon, Alys – mere casualties compared to the brink of having her, to knowing that she was finally his, as he was wholly hers.

Eventually, she'd have to love him. Eventually, she'd learn to do so.

A marriage wasn't a marriage until it was consummated. But he would give her, as he had promised, the illusion of choice, if nothing else.

As the cold night's air whipped his face again and again, and as Vhagar's thundering resounded over the burnt trees of the Riverlands, Aemond sighed, and brought a shaky hand to the strings of his breeches.

Scared as she was, his Lady made for a beautiful bride. It was such a shame that he didn’t get to see her wear the traditional Targaryen gown.

The pad of his thumb trailed over the cut he'd made – the same cut that now rested over her extended palm.

The flesh would scar, he thought, well pleased; whenever he looked at her, he'd get to see how she was undeniably his.

A possessive growl etched from his parted lips. Images of her paling skin, of her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes bore into him, as if she always knew something he didn’t.

Leisurely, he began to pump his cock. Below him, Vhagar let out an anguished roar.

"Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon."

Droplets of precum rolled over his clenching digits, coating his knuckles and the base of his shaft in a translucent, but thick ropes.

He groaned desperately, aching to relieve his frustration deep within her, but alas…

His gruff moans filled the air around him; and Aemond could feel his climax building up, as visions of her flooded his thoughts.

How she would feel underneath him. How she would writhe on the edge of bliss, begging, pleading for him to finally take her.

He could feel her legs wrapping around him, and feel himself sliding inside her with ease, praising her for being so good to him.

He wrapped Vhagar's bridle tight over his arm, and secured himself better in his leather saddle. His grip tightened around his dripping cock, but it was just not good enough.

The pace with which he fucked his hand picked up in a wilding speed. Aemond sighed in pleasure, and felt his hips move to their own accord. His breathing became rugged. His very mind was not his own.

He wondered what other scars her body bore. What the story behind them was, and how many of them came by his swift undoing.

Would she lie down and let him take care of everything? Or would she want to stay on top, jumping up and down on him, each time with a harsher thrust?

His hips rose and fell with his less than gentle pace, and the man pushed his length deeper into his steadfast grip.

He knew that if she let him touch her, he wouldn't be leaving her bed for weeks. He would pull countless orgasms from her, time and time again, until she begged for him to stop. He would have her so full of his seed, so the Gods' help him, that she would swell with his child – his trueborn child – before the rise of the first rays of sun.

Feeling his release beckon, the Prince set on a final rhythm, one that left his loins more in need than ever. With a loud hiss, he pushed himself inside his fist one final time, spilling his seed onto the saddle beneath him.

He panted wildly into the night, and suddenly opened his lustful eye, allowing a tear of ecstasy to roll off his scarred cheek.

"Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra."

He couldn't keep up the charade with her. He would tell her all about it, once things finally settled down.

Word in Harrenhal traveled fast.

First it was her brash arrival. Then her impromptu marriage.

No one dared to talk to her. Yet she was never without the indiscreet eyes that followed her about.

Her situation wasn't without its ups and falls: Aemond felt no need to guard her as stiffly anymore – For where would the former Tully go, now that she bared his Targaryen name?

She was allowed to breach into some castle corners, always in the company of hefty guards, of course, and basked herself in some new acquired perks of freedom.

On the same account, whilst Alys remained loyal to her role as her lady-in-waiting, the tension between them couldn't have been more pain-strikingly high.

"I never asked for this. You must believe me."

She gave the younger woman a domineering stare, and only shook her head, obliged.

"And yet here you stand, inside his bed."

Word in Harrenhal spread fast – like a fire left unattended, like the so-called "Targaryen madness".

But a new, particular rumor gobbled the attention of everyone present.

Daemon Targaryen was to return to the Riverlands. And with him and Caraxes, he'd bring forth the formerly wild dragon, Sheepstealer, mounted by none other than Nettles.

The Lady had been acquainted with the bastard girl before – when the Sowing of the Dragon Seeds reveled in their first borne crops.

Another troubling report came forth. King's Landing had been secured by Rhaenyra.

When (Y/N) heard the news be whispered, she almost collapsed on her knees in glee. This must have marked the end of it. Surely, the usurpers would be put through the sword, leaving all to be well, and right again.

The Greens would die. They would face trial.

The Greens.

Indeed, word in Harrenhal spread fast. And she'd just been made the wife of the cruelest of them all.

Dread filled her insides. Her eyes cast their darkened shadow over the walls of the cursed Keep. A single, fundamental truth raised strongly from her anxious wallowing.

If Daemon Targaryen should find out about her marriage to his nephew, and get to her first… naught of the loyalty of the Riverlords would have a single say in her decided fate. And she would meet her end by the way of his blade, Dark Sister.

Now, more so than ever, it was pivotal for her to escape.

The clock was ticking.

And she was running out of time.

***

Her last day in Harrenhal was spent making plans. She'd rubbed her temples a myriad times, and paced about the room in a dizzying trot.

It wasn’t enough for her to disappear – she had to ensure everyone else thought she was gone.

When Aemond returned, she beckoned his call by jumping to her ready feet. The girl took him in, in his devillished state, and merely raised her brows at him. Whenever she saw him, the nick on her palm and lip itched at her relentlessly.

Neither was willing to recognize aloud what had transpired two moons ago, but both knew the inevitable punishment that would come with Aemond's actions.

He took a seat by the edge of their bed, and took his dagger out to play with it.

In vain he had asked Alys to share with him what she could see. She laid in broken, cradling her forming bump – the one she so desperately tried to hide away from him. The one thing that once meant her protection and raise in rank, now could very well heed out her doom.

Her green eyes raised from the floor below them, and Alys merely shook her head.

"There is fire, my Prince. Fire, and blood, and death."

"Going out to face two dragons is a death sentence." His deep voice rumbled through the silent chamber, "I can't afford that risk anymore with you involved."

And there it was. The silent admission of what he had done.

"We'll have to move from Harrenhal. You'll get to meet Daeron in Oldtown."

Was he sorry for what he did?

"It was about time you got acquainted with the rest of the family."

Aegon's cause was lucky that Storm's End was already too involved. They couldn't turn in their banners to the other front. Not now.

"It's a wonderful idea." She uttered in a glacial tone, barely above a whisper. "When will we depart?"

Sharpened orbs came in contact with the loneness of a purple eye.

The man took in a sparring breath, and hummed at her obedient retreat. The Prince's fist clenched over his cutting wound, and he nodded his head firmly.

"Should we be graced with the Gods' favor, issa jorrāelagon, then on the morrow," He explained, "but no sooner than that."

The girl's brows furrowed in discontent, as Aemond faltered in pressing the matter further. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the aid of two long fingers, and heavily rose from his seat.

"Don't wait for me tonight. I shall return to you in the morning. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Lack of air. And crippling fear.

Her tiny world had been thrown into the arms of chaos. But everything fell so perfectly into place.

As soon as Aemond had mounted Vhagar, as soon as her father of wings died upon the night's first watch, the woman sprung to her feet, and began her soul's ascent into the pits of the Seven Hells.

She started off by breaking in her tiny mirror, placing a goose feather pillow below and over it, to somehow mask the clefty noise.

Her long hair was the first to go. She began cutting it swiftly, using big and brisk movements to chop off as many of her luscious locks as she possibly could.

She ripped the mattress of the bed open with one of the bigger shards, and revealed Aemond's dried-up shirt, that she had tucked well under after washing it, long preparing it for that occasion.

Her stomach churned as her hand went to her chamber pot. Risking her own deniability, she submerged her digits deep within it, letting out a victorious huff as she brushed across a piece of cold felt.

The insides of the sack revealed fermented meat – putrid, more like. She scattered the final remains of it over the stone floor like a mad-woman, and ripped the latter pages of the book Alys had gifted her.

She would take the passage to the stables, and simply hope for the best.

Her eyes searched feverishly about the cluttered room, but the hammering in her heart stilled only as she gaped upon the lower left corner of the wall full of banners.

There it was. Exactly where Alys told her it was going to be.

She tore into the mattress further, spreading the wool around, and grabbed a hold of a piece of wood from the crackling fire.

May she be forgiven for what she was about to do.

Her shaky hands grasped the lumber strongly, and she let it roll in the middle of the room, allowing it to fall with a loud bang.

***

The sound of wailing screams echoed inside her head, scratching at her ears, to the point of making them almost bleed. The heat of the fire she caused fell over her skimpily clothed back, and the disgust she felt with herself was palpable against her tongue.

With every turn she took, she made herself another promise. She would not rest until the war would see its end. She'd never sleep warmly again, and forever remind herself of the sacrifice she had to make – of all the lives that she undoubtedly ended, if only to meet her selfish ends.

For once, this was not just Aemond's doing. This was her fault all alone.

Blinded by rage, and seething with fury, her feet carried her down the crooked set of stairs. The woman brought a hand up to her face, and coughed wildly in the back of it. She'd have to make a bold turn soon. Then the outside world would heed, and she would be free again.

With just a twinge of luck, the guards should think that whatever was left of her room collapsed upon herself inside. Her burnt hair and clothes would create the wanted look – the meat would add the unmistakable smell of rot and death, and the lack of an actual body would take days to figure out.

And she prayed. She prayed, she prayed, she prayed: that no one else knew of the passages that she was threading through below.

Her eyes could barely see in front of her. Smoke rose to unforgiving levels, and the Lady swore it could be cut even by the dullest knife. As she reached the crossroads of the secret tunnel, her hands came to grapple at the breeches' pockets, turning them inside out – trying to find the torn pages of the book she'd just previously carried.

A sigh of relief rumbled from within her throat, as the pads of her shaking digits stroked across the withered, olden pages.

Her relief would be short lived.

Boney hands snaked around her, and the girl nearly screamed – until the familiar scent of mint and wild berries floored her senses.

"Alys?!" Her voice let out in an exasperated high. "Alys, we need to hurry!"

But her able hands still hesitantly clung to the soft material of her shirt, digging so deeply into it, that she could rip it in a downward pull.

"You –" She began to say, but cut herself short as she momentarily closed her eyes.

No matter what, she couldn’t tell the Lady before her that she'd have sent her upon her death.

"You took a wrong turn. This isn't the right way towards the South Gates."

The adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heart was pumping wildly against her ears. Lady Tully only nodded, failing to process that Alys had, in fact, never given her access to such an option on the crudely drawn map.

"This way, (Y/N) – came quickly!"

Two sets of legs descended further into the murky passages of Harrenhal. At one point, the smoke had gotten so very thick, that both women had to feel their way out, by touching the corners of every tunnel that they surpassed.

When all seemed lost, Alys finally spoke, "Over here!" She yelled out to her, and latched onto Aemond's dampened shirt.

They stumble into each other, as the small opening of the stifling cellar reaches the South Gates. The witch stops hastily on her heel, and the young Lady nearly busts their cover.

A raid of soldiers came flocking out, with what then looked like tens of thousands of squealing maids. So frightened by their own demise, they bumped into the oak doors and onto each other – choosing to, instead of unlocking the main Gates, reach and pull at the other's hairs, cursing loud and wildly.

Alys let out a bemused huff at their perused antics, but her reglament was short lived; as one of the smarter lassies reached for the illustrious piece of wood, and opened the doors with the loudest of creak.

"Now's our chance," The Lady of Riverrun whispered to her fellow escapee, grabbing onto her wrist harshly, and dragging her out and into the light. "Mingle in the crowd, Alys –"

"My Lady, do not stray far –"

The older woman let out a staggering breath, as she raised her skirts to follow suit on the trail left by the hot-headed girl.

She is Elmo's daughter alright, she disarmingly told herself, Just as hopeless and reckless as he once was.

Alys almost tackled her to the ground, as Lady Tully succumbed herself deeper into the burnt out forest. She gripped onto her hands with hers, so harshly, that she'd definitely leave her mark. "I thought I had told you not to stray far."

The breathless form of the lost child before her appeared to be enough to soften a tad of her resolve. "When I tell you something, I expect you to do it."

Whilst chastising her deeply for her foolhardy behavior, the woman searched her pockets, and pushed out two quarter silvers into her trembling hands.

"You'll go towards the Rushing Halls and buy yourself a mule from the Half Calf's Inn."

As the younger Lady nodded feverishly at her late advice, Alys clasped her cheeks with her hands, and brought her head further towards her. "You'll keep a straight line to the Green Fork. You won't stop to eat or drink – you won't stop until you reach Hag's Mire. Make sure to cover the cut on your hand with this." As she spoke, Alys pushed a black glove into her resting hands.

The Bliss of Riverrun threw the witch a bewildered look. Her eyes searched adamantly for hers, and the woman panted out in pure wonder. "How did you know I intended on migrating North?

"I've already seen you do it." She shook her shoulders promptly, "I've already seen you succeed."

Her green eyes softened, if only for a blazing moment; but the crackling of the trees behind them snapped her out of her inward trance. "Don't waste anymore time. Your diversion was smart, but he will try to find you."

The girl reached down, to squeeze her hands, perhaps, in a wordless display of gratitude and affection. Her soft fingers interlaced over her boney knuckles, and Alys muttered a faint blessing over the twisted arch of her furrowed brow.

The Lady turned around, but not before pausing and shooting the witch one last fiery look. "Come with me." She offered determinedly, and shook her head strongly as Alys took a step back. "He'll try to punish someone for it. You're his next available girl." She begged her to see to reason.

"My place remains here. By his side."

(Y/N)'s eyes hardened at her thorough admission, but she strained herself to shoot the wet nurse back with a curt nod.

"I shan't forget what you did for me." She promised her elder with a minute smile.

"A heads-up when you next decide to set the whole stronghold on fire would be most appreciated…!" She lightheartedly told her, despite the obvious wabbling of her lower lip.

(Y/N) nodded, but remained hammered in place for another while. Alys' hand reached to cup over her face, but a brisk moment of clarity was quick to change her mind.

"Go, you foolish girl…!" She snapped, "Make good use of that promise you made."

Her feet began moving on their own accord. Her mind was blazing with all of the unfinished tasks at hand.

She would run towards the Rushing Halls. Buy a mule. Retreat towards Green Fork. Reach the Twins.

Her road shall lead to Winterfell. If Forrest Fray remained the same kind fool that he once was, she should have no trouble sending Cregan Stark a raven.

And if she could reason with Jacaerys' friend, take in his testimony of protection, perhaps her life wasn't lost just yet.

The gusts of wind ran through her shortened and unkempt hair. Aemond's clothes hung loosely over her, and the stench of fire and ash filled her nostrils with something else other than hopeless dread.

Never before in her life, did the girl run so fast.

Taglist:

Translations:

Gevie… = Beautiful;

Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda. = Do not worry, my sweet love. I promised you I would be patient;

Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa. = One day you will desire me;

Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao. = The Gods have cursed me to love you;

Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar. = Calm down, Vagar. Be still. Good girl;

Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa. = Gods, you were made for me;

Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī. = Just look how perfectly we fit together;

Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir = Sweet girl… don't pull away from me now;

Yn nyke istan zarvīzis. Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis. = But I've been patient. I've been so good and… so, so patient;

Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa... = You act like you don't want this…;

Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī. = But you want me just as much. You ache for me – just as badly.

Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon. = Don't cry, my beautiful Princess. I would sooner die than hurt you;

Valyrian Wedding Vows: Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass – the stars stand witness, of the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light;

Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon. = I know Vhagar, I know;

Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra. = The Gods don't listen to men like me. But I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence… and now, you find yourself the center of it.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #the harshest winters #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys angst #aemond smut #bookcanon aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #yandere aegon targaryen #unhinged aemond yep yep

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bamsywrites · 1 year

Text

Guilt (Tyrion Lannister x Reader)

paring: Tyrion x Reader; Tywin x Reader

summary: Tyrion is consumed with guilt as he sees just how his actions have affected you

word count: idk but sure as fuck not 13.k Idk where I got that number from 🤦

tags: pregnant! reader, mentions of miscarriage/infant loss, pretty fucking huge age gaps mentioned. tywin doing tywin things. angsty with some hurt/comfort. there's a lot of plot building as i want to attempt to make this into a series. pining. future friends to lovers.

AN: this is my first time writing in a loooong fucking time. I am open to constructive criticism and feedback. I have plans on making this into a series so let me know if that would interest you. this scenario has been in my maladaptive daydreams for so long lol. Please let me know how you like it!

Tyrion watched you from his spot overlooking the river where the women were doing the washing for the day. An older woman was showing you the best methods for getting stains out from the fabrics of sheets and clothes, you watched with a furrowed brow and genuine curiosity from your seat on a large boulder. Tyrion had noticed this was a new behavior trend of yours. You'd go to the kitchens, the stables, the rivers, all to try and lend a hand or learn. Your noble birth made it so you never had to wash your clothes or clean your rooms or make your food. He'd observed that since arriving in Mereen, you almost seemed to be trying to repent of the sin of being born a noblewoman by doing the chores and duties of those most would consider beneath someone of your birth. Not that you ever thought that way.

Tyrion's eyes drifted down to your swollen belly which you were stroking softly as you watched the woman and he scoffed with a quick swig from a flask of whatever wine he was able to get his hands on. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, evident by your size and the waddle to which you walked. Dany had been accommodating to your state by having someone around to assist you if need be and keeping a midwife on standby for the impending birth. The queen had been more forgiving than he could have hoped for when it came to the two of you. You had given a rather convincing speech when you had arrived after fleeing Kings Landing. He could still hear the words ring in his mind.

"Your Majesty, I was but a child when your father was overthrown and family murdered. I was a child still when I was betrothed. No choice in my life has ever been my own. I was sold like cattle to the highest bidder and forced to have his children so he could in turn ship them away and form alliances with lords and kings. Everything I have done has been to protect me and my children. All I ever will do is to protect my children. I want them to live a life better than mine and from what I have seen here you would be able to provide that more than any man in Westores currently fighting for the throne. For that, you will have my loyalty."

It was well-spoken and you stood tall while you said it, but he could see the fear in your eyes. How could he blame you? A pregnant woman far from home in the territory of someone who wanted her dead simply because of who she was forced to marry. Staying in the Red Keep wouldn't have bode well for you either, his sister had never been fond of you and with the death of his father, the castle suddenly became very dangerous for you.

Tyrion understood why Tywin wanted to make an alliance with your house. Your father was lord of a southern house that was known for its impressive feats on the field of battle, no one had ever defeated House ____ on the battlefield and most were met with devastating defeats when they were on horseback. The best tacticians Westores had ever seen either came from your house or were mentored by the lords of your house. Tywin wanted that alliance and he was always looking to further his family line but Jamie had made vows and Tywin would rather die than give Tyrion any claim to Casterly Rock. That left him to marry you, which he did. You were young. Very young. He remembered how scared you looked on your wedding day as his father covered you in a robe of Lannister Red.

You'd done your duty as a wife very well. 6 years since your wedding to his father and you'd had several pregnancies and two living children - daughters much to Tywins dismay. You bore him a son named Tytos but he fell asleep one night never to wake again. Tyrion remembered that day very well, he walked into the hall to see his father holding you as you sobbed, pressing a kiss to your head and looking as vulnerable as Tyrion had ever seen him. Tywin always seemed to respect you and held some possessiveness over the fact that you were his lady wife. You were spoiled by him as was expected, always in the finest dresses and jewelry. Tywin made an example of anyone who dared to disrespect you, even if that person was the boy king himself. He seemed to value your intellect and wit, finding bragging rights in your brains and beauty. A fact that drove Ceresi mad. Though Tyrion supposed, the way Tywin treats your daughters was an even bigger slight to the Queen Regent.

Trysta and Nataria.

Tywin doted on them more than he did you. It was made known behind closed doors that Tywin would keep putting babes in your belly until you gave him an "heir and a spare" but there was a light to his eyes when his youngest daughters were around that made it known he cared for them too. There was an affection there that Tyrion did not remember his father showing Ceresi or Jamie as children. A fact confirmed by the jealousy his sister had for the two young girls, Jamie had never made a comment on it but he enjoyed the company of your daughters very much.

They were very sweet girls, with your eyes but the signature Lannister hair. Trysta was the eldest at five years old, she was smart and sassy, a combination that always brought a smile to Tyrion's face. There was nothing like watching a noble lord be put in their place by a small girl in a pink dress, knowing that they dare not comment back for fear of facing her father's wrath. Nataria was younger, still not quite speaking in full sentences yet, and always wanting to be picked up by anyone who would take her. Tyrion would never forget walking into the tower of the hand to see her sat on Tywins lap with her head nuzzled into his chest as she napped. Tywin informed Tyrion that the babe you were carrying was making you ill and the handmaids were unable to get her to stop crying. He didn't look up from the papers scattered across his desk and his voice was as stern and emotionless as it always was. It was almost alien to see it, to see how much Tywin was capable of some form of care for his children. Tywin often made the comment that his first three children were disappointments and that he was going to make sure his next turned out differently.

You had made the smart choice to send the two girls to stay with your family after Jofferys murder. Kings Landing was not safe for them and both girls adored Tyrion. You had not wanted them to witness his trial or execution or to be brought into the middle of dangerous court politics. You probably would have joined them if Tywin had allowed it. Tyrion was sad he never got to say goodbye to them. He loved them as much as they loved him, always reading books or buying trinkets for them. He missed them dearly but knew you missed them more.

Especially today. It was Nataria's second name day.

Tyrion was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laugh as you watched the children play in the water and their splashes of water soaking your dress and hair. He noticed that your laugh didn't quite reach your eyes and the guilt panged through him.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

You were distracting yourself, he realized, from the pain of what today meant. The pain of not being with your children. The pain of not knowing when you will see them again. He couldn't imagine the pain in your heart. Almost like you knew what he was thinking, your eyes locked with his and he gave you a curt nod before standing and heading away from the river.

---

Later that night he saw you again, sat in the gardens of a courtyard lit by the stars, and a few torches spread over the area. There was a piece of parchment paper in your lap and your fingers were playing with a necklace around your neck. Tyrion noticed your beauty in the light of the stars. The way the flames from the torches flicked across your features. He always knew you were beautiful but it was dawning on him that you were more than beautiful. He sometimes found the air leaving his lungs if the light hit you right. The sound of your laugh, your voice, when he heard you sing it was like the whole world stood still. It wasn't fair, he thought, that someone as kind and smart and witty as you could also be so beautiful.

The sound of a muffled sob brought him out of his thoughts and he felt that searing guilt tear threw him once more.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

His feet moved him through the courtyard and he sat next to you in silence. You quickly wiped at your eyes and shoved the paper, what Tyrion could now see was an old letter from your father about how your daughters were doing, into your dress. The two sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. You'd always treated Tyrion with such respect and kindness and he'd returned the favor to you. You never let Tywin taint your view of him.

"You've been avoiding me," your voice cut through the silence.

It was true. He hadn't spoken more than a few sentences since defending you to the Queen when you were brought to her throne room. "And yet you have been watching my every move."

He nodded, eyes fixated on a particular patch of grass in the courtyard. "Always observant aren't you?" His voice was soft.

"You'd think someone of your size would be better at hiding but alas....."

Your comment made him laugh. The first laugh in a long time.

"Spying is not my strong suit, I must admit. Drinking, books, and whores are my real talents." His eyes traveled over to you and he noticed your small smile.

Your smile shouldn't cause him to feel the way he was.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while after that. It wasn't an awkward silence, neither of you seemed to know how to get the thoughts flowing through your head to form into words. There was so much to say, so much to explain. You broke first.

"I miss them," Your voice wavered and your lip trembled. "I miss them so. It feels as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest." The tears started to fall all at once, Tyrion swore he could hear them hit the ground like rain.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault

"Every time the babe inside me moves, I remember how it felt to feel them move too. I think of them from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep and then I dream of them. Are they happy? Are they safe? Where are they? When will I see them?" You rambled through the thickness of your tears, your fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of your dress.

Tyrion hesitantly grabbed your hand in his, afraid you'd hurt yourself and gave it a small squeeze.

"Your sister...Oh, your sister...she hates them. She hates me. She'll have them killed. I can't...I can't.." you choked on sob after sob

He said your name softly and moved to stand in front of you so he could look into your eyes. The tears falling down your cheeks and hitting the skirt of your dress broke his heart.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault

"Ceresi is many things. A hateful bitch is among one of her most prominent attributes. But, she is not stupid enough to wage war on your family. Her hatred for me consumes her. Last I heard they think I kidnapped you." He almost laughed bitterly at the thought. Remembering how he rushed you out of The Red Keep, it wasn't too far from the truth. "And despite even with all of that aside. Do you think Jamie would let her? Let her kill your children? Our sisters?" In truth, he had no idea what would happen but he had to hope. He had to have faith that his choice wouldn't lead to the fatalities of you and your daughters.

Your arms quickly wrapped around him and your face nuzzled into his neck. For a moment he just stood there in shock, this was the closest you'd ever been to him and he found himself enamored with how you smelt and soft you felt. But soon he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. Tyrion could feel your hot tears on his shoulder and the mantra repeated in his head.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.

"I'm so fucking sorry," He whispered into your hair. "I'm so sorry."

You pulled away and he found himself missing your warmth. He told himself it was because he wasn't used to such interaction, which wasn't a lie, but there was a stirring deep within him that he had to push down and hide. That would only bring him more shame and heartbreak and insult you further than he already has.

"All my life, my father hated me for killing my mother and for being a dwarf. He loathed my very existence. The only thing that kept me alive was my name. I was a Lannister. And then he lets me be led like a lamb to slaughter for a murder he knew I didn't commit. My only option is death or going to The Wall, there's not much difference there as people seem to think. He takes the woman I love and turns her against me, having her lie to all of Kings Landing. And then I find he's fucking her..." Tears were starting to well in his eyes now as he remembered Shae and how it felt to find her in his father's bed. "I didn't think about the consequences. Not for you or the girls until after it was done."

He remembered how the lamp light flickered across your face as you stood there, hand on your belly and mouth agape as he held the crossbow. He remembered how it felt to have the realization slap him in the face. Tywin had become fond of using you to belittle Cerasi, often saying you were more worthy to be a Lannister than she was. Cerasi was jealous of how Tywin seemed to care for and respect you. You wouldn't last long at The Red Keep. Tyrion remembered the scared look in your eyes as he took your wrist in a harsh grasp and led you through the corridors to where he was to meet Varys.

He was pulled from his memories when he could feel your fingertips lightly brush away his tears. "It's my fault," Tyrion's voice broke as he said those words to you, "and I can never express how sorry I am."

You swallowed thickly and looked at him for a moment before your eyes drifted up to the night sky. You were quiet again and this time the silence was thick and heavy. Tyrion could see your brain working hard to formulate thoughts and feelings into words.

"I was 15 when I was betrothed to Tywin," You said softly, your eyes still on the stars. "My father was so excited. The Lannisters would make a great ally and I was the only daughter he had to offer. For two years I waited, knowing that I was to be married to a man who rode into battle with my grandfather. It was the day after my 17th name day that we were wed. Within a year I had Trysta." Your tongue peaked out to wet your lips. "Tywin was not a moral man. He was not a good man. He was a smart man. An ambitious man. But not a good one. I know he respected me, I think he may have cared for me in his own complicated way. I know he cared for our children. But he was old and mean and arrogant."

Tyrion was silent as you spoke, you two had talked in the past for hours about books and history but you never quite opened up about your relationship with his father. Your eyes fell down to your lap and you picked at a loose string.

"I may be cursed for thinking it but I do not miss him. I miss my home. I miss Casterly Rock. I miss the sea and the beach. I miss Trysta and Nataria. But I do not miss Tywin. I am not naive enough to think that I will ever experience what it's like to be loved...to marry for love. That's not a reality for high-born women but I do hope the next time I'm married off it's to someone who is less of an ass."

Tyrion stood there for a moment and then took your face into his hands, "I promise you by whatever Gods are listening that I will get you back home. Back to your children. Or I will die trying." And he meant it.

You simply nodded. He took his seat next to you, his hand resting atop yours. The two of you sat there in a peaceful silence looking at the stars with his hand on yours and you weren't sure how long for. It could have been 15 minutes or two hours. When Tyrion noticed your head starting to bob and your eyes struggled to stay open, he stood up and silently offered you his arm.

The walk to your room was quiet. He had more he wanted to say to you but he knew this was not the time to say it. Once he got to your door he didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he should say anything. He cleared his throat and rested his arm at his side.

"If you, uhm, if you need me...." His voice trailed off.

"I know," you nodded, "thank you." You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before disappearing into your room.

Tyrion stood there for a moment, frustration rushing over him like waves. It was happening. He could feel the feeling creep into his heart: he was falling in love with the woman he widowed and he wasn't sure how to stop it.

#tyrion lannister x reader #tyrion x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #tywin x reader #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones reader insert #reader insert

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sadspoookyboi · 2 months

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top 4 strongest benders of each element and top 4 most powerful nonbenders bc ur all WRONG

avatar not included bc THATS A GIVEN

fire

iroh: i think a lot of people just give strongest to azula or ozai bc of their feats and power but personally i think it’s iroh because he’s more level headed than azula and more carefree than ozai which i believe is what makes firebending

azula: she’s a beast but by the end of the series and in the comics she’s not the most mentally stable person y’know. we see it all the time in both shows aang got scared he lost the little firebending he has, zuko loses his way, mako is scared and can’t bend with one of his arms, as bad as it is if she doesn’t get better she’s gonna have to face the consequences.

ozai: most of ozai’s feats come from being calculated not his actual abilities and the only people i remember him fighting are actually 13 and 12 so…..

MAKO: WE SEE MAKO DO EVERYTHING IROH CAN DO IN SMALLER FEATS AND SUDDENLY HES THE WORST THERE EVER WAS. in all seriousness makos precision and quick reflexes make him a great bender. also in republic city hustle he’s already mastered lighting bending at 15 making him younger than both ozai and iroh who mastered it as adults and don’t bring up zuko

air

jinora: her connection to the spirits and mastering airbending at 11 makes her a great airbender

tenzin: molly whooped zaheer

zaheer: got molly whooped by a 50 year old bald man

kai or bumi: they’re fast learners idk

water

katara: katara becomes a master over the course of the year and shows great skill with not only with traditional bending but with healing and blood bending.

ming hua: she has no arms idk what to tell you idk how she does it

tonraq: MOLLY WHOOPED ZAHEER

eska and desna: they’re fast benders and have impeccable battle chemistry that no one can beat

earth(might ruffle some feathers)

toph: created her own bending style and becomes a master at the age of 12. has some intense battle chemistry with everyone from team avatar and has some impressive moments.

lin: was taught by and trained by toph and is an impressive metal bender. she doesn’t have as many impressive moments as everyone else and because of her age and already being a master we don’t really see her grow as a bender but more as a person

kuvira: an immovable object meets an unstoppable force. kuvira is a lot like lin in the sense as her growth is more focused on growing as a person and not on growing as a bender like everyone else her only downside is her lack of care. she sacrifices everything to take over republic city and is her greatest weakness.

bolin: this is what i think will make some people mad. bolin is an entirely self taught lavabender and just like mako his precision and accuracy makes him a great earth bender. Bolin and Mako’s fluid and untraditional styles of bending makes them great benders because everyone else we see are traditionally trained

nonbenders

ty lee

suki

mai

sokka and don’t even bring up asami

avatar

korra

kyoshi

aang

#legend of korra #korra #mako #bolin #asami sato #avatar the last airbender #aang #katara #sokka #toph beifong #zuko #azula #kyoshi #jinora #tenzin #lok kai #bumi #mai #ty lee #tonraq

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imtrashraccoon · 3 months

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Whew! It's over...don't mind me but I'll probably be taking a few days off writing again. Thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me! I learned so much and had so much fun! It's definitely given me so many ideas for future projects...

There will probably be an announcement post coming soon... (ﾟ⁠οﾟ⁠人⁠)⁠)

@owl-bones

First Day & Previous Day.

Bad Sansuary: Free Space - Snuggle

Word Count: 3,301

Feat. Everyone!

You were relaxing in your room with a book you'd borrowed from the library after dinner. This high fantasy series Nightmare recommended was seriously good and once you'd started, it was incredibly hard to put down. Well, unless someone interrupted you that is...

There was a playful knock at your door, pulling you out of the story and back to reality. You knew exactly who had chosen to bother you and a part of you wanted to just pretend you had gone to bed early so he'd leave you alone. But...that wouldn't be very nice and you could always read later on before you did actually go to sleep.

With a sigh, you slipped a book mark made from laminating the pressed flowers Axe had given you between the pages and hauled yourself off the comfortable couch to go answer the door. The knocking grew more insistent until you finally threw it open and fixed Killer with your most exaggerated grumpy face.

"What's so important that you would drag me from the realm of Middle Earth just to see you?" you grumbled.

Killer shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and smirked. "hm? oh i was just bored out of my mind, angel face~"

You sighed and ran your hand down your face. "So, you want me to help you?"

"nope."

"What? Then...why did you come see me?" Now you were really confused and you stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to break and claim he was just messing with you.

"i wanna have a movie night and almost everyone else has already agreed. so...?" He wiggled his bonebrows in a playful way until you finally relented.

"Alright, I guess that sounds like it could be fun."

No sooner had you agreed did Killer take your hand and nearly drag you into the common area. You protested from the suddenness, but he only laughed and barely slowed down at all. It seemed you'd have to revisit Middle Earth another time.

"she said yes!" he announced to the other three skeletons.

Axe and Dust seemed to have been trying to figure out which movie to watch, but by the looks of things, they hadn't been able to come to a decision. Nightmare was casually lounging on one of the couches watching the two of them. All three looked up at the news and Axe smiled at you.

"guess i could whip up some snacks. do ya wanna help, lil' chip?" he asked.

You shrugged and glanced over at the tv to see what they had narrowed the choices down to. "Sure, but what movie were we going to watch anyways?"

Dust, Axe, and Killer glanced at each other before saying different titles at the same time, none of which you'd ever heard of before. They then proceeded to start arguing over which was the better movie.

Nightmare sighed and shot you a look that seemed to say "See what I deal with?" You gave him a sympathetic smile before clapping your hands to get the other's attention.

"Why don't we watch all of them and just turn this into a movie marathon night?" you suggested.

Thankfully, your idea seemed acceptable and they nodded in agreement. Even Nightmare seemed suitably impressed which made you quite happy to have solved the argument.

"guess we should start on those snacks then," Axe hummed and started for the kitchen.

"dusty and i could go pick up some pizzas and pop if you're fine with that?" Killer suggested and glanced at the aforementioned individual, who merely shrugged.

"sure, do what ya want," Axe rumbled, not even bothering to stop and look at them.

The two disappeared to presumably go get the food and you went to follow Axe into the kitchen, although not before glancing back at Nightmare. He gave you a bit of a disinterested look before getting up and leaving the common area.

You frowned and started to go after him to figure out if something was wrong, when Axe called out for you.

"ya comin' lil' chip?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there." You hesitated for a moment before hurrying to the kitchen. It seemed you'd have to check in on him later.

You helped make some buttered popcorn, cut up some fresh fruit, and arrange some cookies that Axe had made earlier on a plate. By the time you were done, the other two skeletons had returned with a couple of still hot pizzas and two bottles of pop. You didn't question where they'd likely pilfered them from and neither did Axe, as the answer would likely be either unpleasant or exactly what you suspected they'd done instead of paying like proper monsters.

Just as you were helping to arrange the food where it would be easily accessible, Nightmare reappeared with his arms and tentacles full of various cushions and blankets. While you were a little surprised, you were also glad to see that he was interested in participating in the fun afterall.

It didn't take long to make the floor by the tv extra comfy and get situated. Axe was content to lean against the couch where his large frame wouldn't be blocking anyone. Dust claimed a beanbag chair, which practically swallowed him up, and you were pretty sure he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon. Killer, being the absolute gremlin that he was, went about stealing as many pillows as he could to make a makeshift pillow nest for himself. At first, Nightmare chose the couch, but when you all but insisted that he should join everyone else, he relented and eventually chose to copy Axe, leaning against the couch instead.

Two problems quickly became apparent though. Problem one was that no one could agree on whose movie choice to watch first. Problem two was that you could tell each of the boys wanted you to sit with them.

You really didn't want what was supposed to be a fun evening devolving into a jealous fight. So before anyone could actually get upset, you decided to try and take charge.

"How about this... To keep things fair, I'll just swap places for each movie so that I can sit with all of you in turn," you suggested. Unfortunately, your attempt at a solution wasn't nearly as effective as you'd hoped.

"sooo...who gets to have the cutie to themselves first?" Killer asked. He had a dangerous look on his skull as he spoke and while his tone sounded light, even like he was almost teasing, you knew him well enough by now to know that he wasn't playing around.

"definitely not you," Dust growled and sat up a bit, his gloved hands digging into the bean bag.

Even Axe seemed to stiffen up and his good eye socket narrowed into a harsh glare at his loud-mouthed colleague. His clawed phalanges twitched slightly, as if aching to wringe a certain someone's neck or curl around the handle of the weapon of his namesake.

While Nightmare remained silent, you could tell by the way his tentacles were twitching restlessly, that he was at the very least mildly annoyed by this situation. His cyan eyelight flicked to you and the intensity of his gaze was almost enough to make you want to shrink into yourself. His expression held something else though; a look that you couldn't quite place but one that seemed to suggest he was scheming about something.

You swallowed and managed to tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze. Raising your voice again, you cried out, "No fighting! I have another idea...you should all play rock, paper, scissors to determine the order."

They glanced at each other but no one protested. After playing a few rounds, an order was established, minus Nightmare, who claimed he didn't care when his turn was. Killer won each time making him first, Axe was second, and Dust was third, much to his frustration. Nightmare was content to go last, which of course nobody protested over.

Killer was all too happy to welcome you into his nest. His arms fit snugly around your waist, teasingly close to your pelvis, although he otherwise kept his hands to himself and just continued spooning you during the first movie.

Speaking of, the movie was one of those corny horror movies. It was full of gratuitous violence with plenty of obviously fake gore. Still, you couldn't help but cringe whenever the monster attacked the very doomed side characters. Killer was quick to soothe your nerves with soft whispers of encouragement and occasionally making fun of the many cliches present in the film. Overall, the experience left a sort of thrill coursing through your veins and you were admittedly a little disappointed when the movie was over, a sentiment Killer seemed to mirror, although he attempted to hide it.

Axe had picked a tamer movie, although that wasn't saying much as there were more jump scares than the previous one that never failed to startle you. Still, Axe was also very good at comforting you and multiple times throughout the movie, you felt his eyelight watching your reactions just to make sure you were okay.

You ended up snuggled up against his left side with his hand around your back and resting on your left hand which was on your thigh. You wrapped your right arm around his broad back and laid your head against his ribcage, which inadvertently meant you could listen to the soothing hum of his magic that emanated from his soul.

At some point during the second movie, you glanced over at Nightmare and were a little surprised to find that he seemed a bit bored. It was odd because you had assumed he'd actually get some sort of satisfaction from witnessing how terrified the protagonists of the film were.

He sensed your gaze and glanced over, tilting his skull in a silent question.

"Are you okay?" you mouthed.

His eyelight flicked back to the screen and he shrugged. "It's manufactured fear... I can't gain any benefits from attempting to absorb it," he murmured. When he glanced back at you though, a subtle smirk formed across his skull and he went to say something but stopped himself when Axe took notice of the conversation.

You were momentarily fascinated that there was that much of a difference. Would it be any different if it was a live broadcast and the actors didn't know what was going to happen? You'd have to ask him about it sometime.

You glanced at Nightmare a few more times throughout the movie and occasionally caught him looking a little amused. The boys weren't easily spooked but the rare times one of them was seemed to coincide with those little moments. You figured he was the one who hadn't exactly wanted to have a movie night, however he'd seemingly decided to go along with it anyways. Probably under the guise of this being a group bonding activity like any good boss would host. The thought was actually kind of funny to you now that you knew them all a lot better.

Dust's movie of choice was definitely a thriller, and while you didn't mind the change, it made you feel really anxious, which you hated. It was about an old cop trying to solve a series of murders apparently perpetrated by the one criminal he had failed to bring to justice years prior. The plot was certainly intriguing at points and you could see why he had picked it.

You'd been right on the money earlier when you'd assumed he wasn't planning on budging from the comfortable beanbag for a long while. That was fine of course since he didn't really need to move in order to actually cuddle with you. His idea was for you to sit in his lap so you'd be as close as possible, which you'd expanded on and chosen to sit side saddle. It meant you could both hold each other and he'd get to watch your face, so he didn't protest at all. You wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders and he sort of mimicked the gesture, except he supported your back, leaving your other hand free to hold his other one.

By the time of the fourth movie, which was a classic monster movie about a mad scientist and his creation, you noticed something strange. Save for yourself and Nightmare, everyone else seemed to doze off, almost at the same time too.

Turning to the only possible perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "Did you...put them to sleep?" you hissed under your breath.

His grin seemed only to grow more smug and even without him saying anything, you knew your suspicions were correct.

"Indeed~" he purred. "It is said that good things come to those who wait. They had their fun, so now I get to have mine..."

Your heart skipped a beat at the deliciously dark tone of voice he'd used. It was at that moment that a flock of butterflies decided to assault your insides with their delicate wings. You'd managed to control yourself with the others but now that you were technically alone with him...well, you weren't sure if that was possible anymore.

He pressed his skull against your hair and growled low in his throat. "I had to watch them hold you so close all this time... Have some empathy, dear..."

A chill went down your spine from the possessive tone of his voice and your tongue felt heavy like it was made of lead. Even if you could complain, he probably wouldn't even listen to you.

Nightmare pulled you into his lap yet again, which seemed to be his preferred method of holding you for whatever reason. Maybe it was because he could cage you in with his arms and tentacles so you couldn't escape. Or maybe he just liked the feeling of having you so intimately close to him. You tried not to dwell on it, partially because you liked it too.

Neither of you said much of anything for a little while, being content to enjoy the closeness and intimacy of this rare moment in time.

He was the one to break the silence first. He seemed to grow restless the longer you went without saying anything and his tentacles twitched with pent up energy, leaving you wondering what was really on his mind today. Then his clawed phalanges hooked under your chin, gently turning it so he could make eye contact and ensure he had your full attention before he even attempted to say anything.

"My dear, I cannot see into what the future holds, but I believe with all my soul that you'll fit in here. You've won over each of my boys in your own way and they've come to care a great deal for you in return."

He paused to take a breath before continuing. "I'm not normally a very...romantic person... But, even I can admit that I care a lot for you. No matter what you think, you matter to us and you've made a difference in our lives...for the better. I hesitate to use the word 'love' as I don't, and maybe can't, exactly feel that...but you will always be safe under my care."

He drew closer to you, his touch growing more tender now, and his tendrils slowly undulating against your clothing. "I promise, dear..." he murmured, almost against your lips, before closing that final distance.

For a moment, you were frozen in place as your brain tried to process what all he'd said. You caught on quickly though and wrapped your arms around his cerebral vertebrae so he wouldn't pull away too soon. You felt him stiffen ever so slightly but he soon relaxed into your embrace and actually deepened the kiss further.

It was over much too soon. You had to separate to catch your breath, although he didn't seem winded in the slightest. There was a soft cyan glow colouring his otherwise dark cheekbones and you could also see a small spark of what you thought might be true happiness in his eyelight.

Neither of you said anything for the short remainder of the film and you snuggled up against him as close as you possibly could get. Your soul was practically leaping for joy in your chest at the implications of what he'd said. You'd been assured by the others, but now you had definitive proof that he really did like you afterall.

Whatever magic he'd used to put everyone else to sleep seemed to fade as the end credits began to roll. One by one, the boys stirred before waking up, although you could see they were still a bit drowsy from the effects of the spell.

"Nice of you all to join us," Nightmare remarked with a chuckle and lightly squeezed your body against himself one last time.

They could only seem to respond with a cacophony of various tired grumbles, which even you had to admit was a little amusing.

Dust was the first to move and his mismatched eyelights scanned the room before locking onto you. The intensity in his tired gaze was nearly breathtaking but you couldn't read what could possibly be going through his mind right now. He dragged himself to his feet and managed to shamble his way over to you like a dead man walking. He ended up collapsing half on top of you so that his skull was resting just above your knees.

As soon as Killer realized what he'd done, he dragged himself over to you as well, plopping himself down on your shins with his skull resting on one of his arms so he could still look up at you. Interestingly, the black ooze that always leaked from his eye sockets had slowed to a meer trickle now, possibly from sleeping?

You were slightly flustered by all this contact at once but there was still one skeleton missing. Glancing over at Axe, you saw that he seemed to be conflicted. His eyelight flicked from his two colleagues to you and back again, while his large hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

You couldn't exactly reach for him but you motioned with your chin to try and reassure him that you didn't mind if he wanted to join in. That little push was all he needed to scoot over and wrap both you and Nightmare in a big hug.

The aforementioned god let out a low growl of annoyance at basically being smothered and his claws pressed into your waist in a vain attempt to keep you to himself. Yet, he didn't shove any of them away, even though he was plenty strong enough to, as demonstrated when he used his tentacles to move some of the boys and yourself into more comfortable positions.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to and definitely wouldn't be able to for a while. Your eyes were finally starting to grow heavy, but still, you resisted the tempting allure of sleep to enjoy what had turned into a snuggle pile.

It was obvious that all four of them felt strongly about you and if the events leading up to the movie marathon were anything to go by, this wouldn't be the last time you'd need to intervene. Each of them were equally stubborn and also quite dangerous when provoked, which could quickly lead to hurt feelings or injuries.

You would have to either get good at breaking up future arguments or simply pick one of them and stick with your decision. Unfortunately, you didn't want to pick one over the others as you liked each of them equally. You'd have to give this matter a lot of thought.

You were confident you'd make the right choice though...

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davidmariottecomics · 4 months

Text

Goodbye IDW! Hello Something New!

Hi there!

After seven years and some change, today, 12/22/2023, is my last day at IDW Publishing. It's for good reasons. Things just timed out that my last day could be the last work day of the year for IDW and in the new year, I'll be starting a new job elsewhere. I'll still be in comics and once I can talk about the new gig, I'm really stoked to be letting you all know. So, today, I want to say my goodbye to IDW.

But first, before I get to that, I did have something else notable happen this week. I sent my last tweet! I'm officially shutting down my Twitter at the end of the year and if you see a Twitter account claiming to be me after January 1st, it's an imposter. If you'd like to keep up with me, however, I've got good news! There are lots of other ways to find me still. Here are a few!

Check out and bookmark my website! Get access to my blog, plus lots of behind the scenes stuff and new projects at my Patreon! Subscribe to a newsletter version of my blog for free at Buttondown! Follow my blog on Tumblr! Keep up with my main socials: Bluesky and Instagram (I'm @davidmariotte at both)!

Okay, with that out of the way, let's talk about it. This is not my first time saying goodbye. In fact, almost exactly a year ago, I said my farewells to Transformers, one of the hallmarks of my IDW run. I don't want to revisit that too much, so if you want to read about my early days at IDW or that part of my career or a big list of thank yous to my collaborators, you can! And while I've had significant runs with other books, most notably Sonic the Hedgehog which with January's Sonic: Fang the Hunter #1 will mark 100 issues of Sonic at IDW under my editorial eye, or my personally exciting, if shorter runs on stuff like Godzilla, Samurai Jack, the Hasbro Action books, Canto, Scarenthood, The Kill Lock, The October Faction, Wynonna Earp, Brynmore, Atomic Robo, or literally so many other books, I don't want this to just be a retrospective on the work. In fact, I'm largely not interested in talking about the past when I say goodbye this time.

IDW has afforded me a lot. They've helped me find my place in the industry. They let me do some writing. They let me do a lot of editing. I learned various other skills both through directly on the course of the job and through my own interest because of what I was doing and seeing there. I have made true lifelong friendships. And I have made comics. So leaving feels weird. I'm very bummed to be leaving a place that really has been my home (and for the past couple of years, has quite literally been mostly at my home) for so long. But I am even more excited about what's to come. On my side, I can't announce it just yet, but watch this space for some big news soon (after a couple weeks of much needed vacation).

Talking about the future I actually can say a little more about, I wanna tell you how excited I am for IDW. Yes, I'm leaving, but IDW remains home to so many people--both at the company and our freelance creators--and so many projects that are close to my heart. Next year is their 25th anniversary. That is an impressive feat in not just the world of comics, but any industry. For the milestone, they've got a lot of cool stuff planned.

I'm not going to blow up IDW's spot and say anything about what's coming up too early. Just to talk about the things that are already public knowledge, you've got things like the new TMNT: The Last Ronin sequel! The TMNT ongoing on it's road to issue #150! There are cool new originals like Golgotha Motor Mountain! There's the launch of the aforementioned Fang the Hunter which is IDW's first Classic Sonic mini-series and sees 100 unique issues of Sonic at IDW and is just laugh-out-loud funny and full of such good action! And I'll tease this, when the Sonic ongoing is back with issue #69 in May, you'll be in for an absolute treat as that series runs up to #75!

I know some readers of this blog don't read a ton of American direct market comics. You aren't "Wednesday Warriors" who go to the comic shop every week. You like the comics you like and I've been graced to be a person working on those comics. If you aren't as familiar with how these comics work, let me assure you of a couple things. The books I was editing and many unannounced projects that I set up will still be happening. Because of the timelines of comic production, you'll still see my name in IDW books for a few more months and, at the same time, you'll see new credits creeping in. And if we've done everything right, that'll be about the only thing you'll notice is different, at least at first. As the editors really take the reins and take over, we'll both be in for the treat of the unknown! I'll be reading them with a good sense of professional jealousy.

Now, there's one other book that has been announced for next year and I wanted to do a special call out for. Godzilla: Valentine's Day Special went to press this week. It's the last IDW book I saw all the way from inception to completion. And, in many ways, it's kind of a really good analogy of a comics editorial career. I think, genuinely, this may be the book that went from conception to reality the fastest in my career. I think it took... less than a week from a half-joking suggestion of doing a Godzilla Valentine's Day book to getting Zoe Tunnell's pitch in and approved by Toho and getting it on the publishing schedule. Usually these things take a bit--people are working on other projects, licensors need time to review things, whatever other bumps happen along the way--but this was like lightning. Everyone just got it instantly. And then Zoe turned in the script and it was great! Things continued, as they do, and then... we got a curveball or two. I won't go into too much detail, but major thanks to Sebastian Piriz and Rebecca Nalty for getting it done and having a book that we were all so proud of that I could send to press this week. And it struck me on that final press day that despite the curveballs we had been thrown, when it came to actually getting it approved, everything was so easy, straightforward, and smooth. When you read it in February, if I've done my job right, maybe you'll remember seeing somewhere that there were some curveballs. But mostly, you'll just have a really good book in your hands. (BTW, you did JUST MISS the final order cutoff on that, so do check in with your shop about still trying to get you a copy!)

Most of the time, after a book like that goes to press, an editor gets ready to do it again--maybe in a few minutes or days or the next week. For the first time in a long time, I won't be getting ready to do it again at IDW. That's a complicated feeling, but I'm so excited for the future.

The best metaphor I've been able to come up with for what is happening is it's like I've been working in a one room office constantly for the past seven years. It's got that dull office lighting, you know the kind. Each day, projects come and go across my desk, and as they otherwise disappear into the world, I put up one of those glow-in-the-dark stars as a memory of it. And each day, I work with so many people--my coworkers at IDW who've helped foster my growth, my collaborators as both a writer and editor who have made so many stories with me, all the folks where things never quite lined up but we kept trying, and the readers who are an inherent part of the ecosystem, the reason we make what we do. And so, for each of those people, I put up a little glow in the dark toy.

Now, for the first time, I'm going to get up and leave the office. As I flick the switch behind me, everything in there that has been soaking up light for years now glows. Some of the glows are slight. Some are so fantastically bright, it feels like they're drawing attention through the walls of the room. Together, they make the room brighter than it was when I left. Now, sometimes, I might sneak in to borrow a toy--make a copy of it for the new office I'm doing the same thing in. Other people will certainly do the same and make they've got their Evan Stanley figure on their shelf. If I ever return for a longer time, I'll be so glad to flick the light back on and let them all absorb even more light to glow an even longer time. If I don't, I rest happy that the glow goes on and forever people will be able to come back and discover some part of it. And I'll start working on a new office soon.

If I keep going, I'm a little afraid that I won't be able to stop. So, for now, I'll just say again, thank you. The future is about to be very exciting. Next year is for the creators you love or don't know you love yet, the books that are going to light you up that you've come to expect and the ones that will catch you by total surprise. While there are a lot of things I'm going to miss deeply and books that I'm going to wish I had gotten to do more on, I also have the really exciting experience of getting to see this stuff as a fan of IDW, just like you. And, hey, I hope you'll be a fan of the stuff I do next too!

As for next steps, like I've said, I'm not going far. I'll still be in comics. I'll share the news when I can.

Before that, I'm getting a little break. Not too long, just a few weeks, and obviously the holidays are part of those, but in my time between my jobs, I'm going to be working on some personal projects. I put together a little tracking list recently and I have something like 40 projects in various stages of gestation right now. Obviously, I'm not going to be working on all of those at once, and chances are, some of them will never see the light of day, but I'm going to be working on trying to bring a couple of them to you in the new year (and beyond). If you're an artist that I've had the pleasure of working with in the past and you think you might be interested in peeping the list and seeing what we could do together, let me know. You can reach me on my website contact page, through my email, or through Discord (feel free to ask if you don't have it!).

And if you read this blog, you'll see me hyping my last IDW projects up until we run out of what I left behind. Simultaneously, once I've got stuff to start hyping up for my personal projects and for the new gig, you'll see those start to pop up here too! I'll also keep talking about making comics and my thoughts on the state of the world and whatever else it is I blog about here on a regular basis!

Thanks for reading. Bye-DW! Next week, I'll be doing a little Best of 2023. But for now, onto our regular features.

What I enjoyed this week: Dungeons & Daddies (Podcast), Reverse 1999 (Video Game), Nancy (Comic), Lego Masters (TV show), Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror (Short story collection), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video Game), Cunk on Earth (TV show), I'm a Virgo (TV show), The Boy and the Heron (Movie), an easy last week at IDW, all the well-wishes that've already poured in, leaving today to celebrate Christmas with my family and then have some downtime to work on my stuff, signing the paperwork for the new job, not being on Twitter anymore, getting all of our mail out in a timely fashion for the holidays, Chainsaw Man (Manga), I picked up Superman and Hawkgirl, so excited to get caught up on those, and knowing that in leaving this job, there are certain folks I just get to deepen my relationships with as friends, instead of co-workers.

New Releases this week (12/20/2023): Godzilla: The War for Humanity #3 (Editor) Godzilla Rivals: Jet Jaguar vs. Megalon (Editor)

Announcements: The Cartoonist Cooperative is still doing E-Sim cards for Gaza. You can donate a digital sim card so that residents can get access to the internet and have more functional phones and, in exchange, get some comics or a drawing or whatever else is available from the many participating artists. Additionally, the CC is hosting their mini-comic awards! It's a cool way to maybe get your mini-comic recognized and make some scratch!

You can also give more directly. If you don't have money, and I get it, you can call or fax or email or show up at the offices of your representatives. Keep your eyes open for actions too, whether they're another general strike or demonstrations and marches in your area. Given the nature of the things, they often come together fairly quickly, so do exercise your due diligence. Also, of course, being informed and just giving your time to Palestinian journalists and writers is incredibly valuable.

While Becca has got some things brewing for next year (and now on a schedule), you should reach out if you'd like to work on comics with them! You can find their gallery on their website and also, y'know, maybe pick up a few things for belated gifts while you're there!

Finally, I called out my Patreon earlier. You can support me (and boy, that would be cool during the time between paychecks because vacation is nice, but living is still expensive) and get not just this blog, but a lot of cool special features like extra posts, comics, infographics, and more! At the $10+ levels, you can also access stuff like a holiday gift guide I made, a podcast pilot for a spicy show with Becca, and a ton more!

Pic of the Week: Happy holidays from Becca and me! If you wanna full card in your inbox, lemme know!

#comics #godzilla idw #sonic idw #transformers idw #goodbye idw #comics news #david mariotte

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ladyloveandjustice · 20 days

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Winter 2024 Anime Overview: Updates on Frieren and The Apothecary Diaries

The Apothecary Diaries (Episodes 13-24)

See my review of the first half of the show here to see my thoughts on the overall series!

The second half of The Apothecary Diaries was somehow even better than the first half, crafting a compelling ongoing mystery and delving into MaoMao’s backstory. There were quite a few big thrills that made me gasp aloud. MaoMao pulled off some show-stopping feats, and she remains an incredible, endearing character. Especially now that we’ve learned she has a killer evil laugh. And as a bonus, Jinshi was a lot less gross in his treatment of MaoMao in this part and the bits where they bonded were actually pretty nice.

I wholeheartedly recommend this show, it’s one of the best and most compelling anime I’ve seen in recent years. Fortunately, it’s already confirmed for a season 2 next year.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Episodes 17-28)

See my review of the first half of the show here to see my thoughts on the overall series!

Frieren went into its Hunter Exam Arc (where Frieren and Fern have to get their first class mage license), which I didn’t find quite as compelling as the first half of the season. However, there were some interesting characters and good fights, so it was still pretty entertaining. The quality has stayed consistent, the animation remains impressive. And the demons did not return, for anyone worried about that. It was a solid show overall!

#the apothecary diaries #frieren #frieren beyond journey's end #sousou no frieren #apothecary diaries #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto #anime overview #winter 2024 anime #my reviews

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temporarilyunstable · 9 months

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it's a monster of a ppp essay

Finally writing about this film I’ve pretty much obsessed over for months! Hopefully I can put some order into this but in case I ramble you have been warned lol. Spoilers will be discussed.

I first saw this film in Japan on opening day— prior to that I tried to gather as much information as I could via JP tweets and impressions, especially those of the pre-golden week screening on April 29, then adding more info as soon as spoilers were lifted to increase my understanding. And now a couple of months later, I finally have full context, but really happy that most of the information I got was accurate, and the only details that I had to clear up were related to the more complex elements of the plot, plus the ever-important talk-no-jutsus (tnj) in the film.

If I were to give this film a score, it’s a 9/10. Prior to this, my fave iteration was case 3, being the ever-economic-just-over-an-hour-but-does-everything-right entry to the series. Maybe it’s my Akane bias but PPP just knocked that one right out of the park. The animation was great (I am not well-versed in this so you won’t hear me talk about it much), even if wonky Arata took me out despite the emotion in the scene. Voice acting, no one does it better than the JP actors, I will not be convinced otherwise. It’s my preference and frankly if you’ve never watched this in sub I do think you missed out. The music was TOP-TIER. I’ve not stopped listening to this OST ever since it came out, blessdt Ennio-Morricone-esque Is this your choice, Akane Tsunemori? track #27 CD2?!!?!??! *INHALE*

I can’t actually use technical film critic jargon here so in short, I LOVE this film so much.

A bit of background info from the recent interviews Director Shiotani participated during the roundtables/live stages in JP - the “switching” of the timelines were at the behest of the producers (Fuji TV), including the introduction of new characters, in order to continue the story indefinitely from a TV perspective (link). It was a ballsy move, and in hindsight it paid off, but not without its pitfalls which I will touch on later. PP3/FI was developed during PPSS, and PPP was developed during PP3/FI, so you can imagine the difficulty of making sure the creative team have crossed their t’s and dotted their i’s. That being said, apart from telling the story it wishes to tell, the purpose of this film was to tie the past to the present, and I think that they did it very well.

My thoughts are still evolving, but interestingly enough, most of my impressions haven’t changed. So I’ll talk about some elements of the plot that interest me, then I’ll go to specific characters, and ofc I’ll talk about the ship (not the Grootslang 😉).

There’s a clear three-parts to this film: up to Saiga’s death, up to Atsushi’s death, and Akane’s career death (if it is to be said, so it is lol). Each part had their pros and cons, but it’s quite a feat managing to squeeze all the information in. There was no dull moment for me.

I think the deaths here (especially of the characters we were supposed to care about)— the manner and speed in which they perished, and at a certain point in the film, all for nothing— were part of the point.

Before I watched this with subs I actually thought that it would be more difficult to understand, but I have to say that the nolan-esque expositions were well executed and nicely placed, for example the talk about possession between Kogami and Shion was a good prep for the audience for when we actually get to hear about how it works from Akira. Also a great way to show both Kogami’s detective skills that have not dulled the slightest, and his and Shion’s closeness(?/familiarity? Call it what you want). Another example is the Mika-team essentially telling the audience what’s about to happen prior to us seeing Sugo get things done in the sky (also I forgot he was just flying a drone and was out of harm’s way ehehe). I would say that the hardest parts to piece together have to do with the elements related to PP3, including the involvement of Bifrost. I’ll touch on this later.

I’ve talked about Saiga’s death to my friends way before the first trailer ever released. Him not being present in PP3 was the biggest clue, and not that I wanted it to happen, but it was necessary to raise the stakes and make it personal. As a fic writer, admittedly I’ve never been happier to be right 😅. His scenes with Akane and Kogami at the beginning of the film were standouts. I particularly love how Saiga and Akane are so at ease with having a simple conversation— they’re talking about work but he could so easily talk about his doubts regarding Atsushi, for example. I love how he’s the same with Kogami, how he clearly states his allegiance to Akane, and ofc reminding Kogami to apologize (and something else I picked up that I will discuss later).

I can say that despite the initial ridiculousness of the Divider/possession, the way it was explained was quite convincing to me compared to how they brushed over how Arata’s mentalist skills worked in PP3. Also, there’s kind soul from the JP fandom who attempted to explain how it could probably work irl (link). It’s creepy, if you think about it, and well-documented too. Have a read if you’re interested.

Action scenes, definitely a strong suit of this film - you just know they can’t help themselves sometimes LOL. Kogami v Akira is definitely the best one (RIP Kogami’s balls hihi), and I’ve said this before but they definitely have perfected Kogami’s animation when it comes to fighting, and he is always the most flawlessly animated, however I think they did Gino really well here too. There’s this other really wonky one where Sugo falls down the escalator and it just looks like he’s a solid object and not a human body asdlfkjaskldfj. Honestly I finally understood the critique that the Sugo drone scenes were definitely way too long (I didn’t notice this bec it was hella entertaining when you don’t have subs plus it was super fun if you watch it in 4dx/mx4d).

Really dropped the ball on the Stronskaya Papers imo. I think, for something that was meant to be so important, the exposition regarding its use was really a lazy excuse. “SEAUn essentially proved its value” ain’t gonna cut it. If this is something so important people choose to kill/die for, then the implications of it should have been shown to the audience, not told.

I only noticed after the third subbed rewatch, but to me, everyone is being measured against Akane in this film. I will elaborate later.

Sibyl as an AI

Finally, the little complication about using the term "AI" when describing the Sibyl System. When the first impressions of this came out, there were a LOT of dissatisfied JP fans. Until it was described as such in the film, since the system constitutes actual human brains, then the interpretation is that it is human. I’m not sure if this was a general interpretation btw, but since this is the first time the term “AI” was used to describe Sibyl, ofc it rubbed people the wrong way, especially bec it feels like the whole concept of Sibyl was retconned.

I somewhat agreed with this interpretation— I had always considered the Sibyl System as an independent character in this series, who was meant to be impartial but somehow acts/reacts as a human would— and it's not hard to think so, when you look at the way the system has acted and evolved throughout the show. At times, the system is shown to be curious, greedy, and even cruel. I am ofc talking about them as a whole and not their androids (Kasei, Misako, Chuan Han, Hosorogi, even the dude in Case 2, etc)— individual brains act as human with a CA constitution (so still slightly different from a normal human), that’s clearly shown in the series.

When I read about this through interviews of Director Shiotani, I didn’t quite get the full context as it was used in the film. My initial interpretation was that the system was human, but the mechanisms that make it work (the claws swapping brains supposedly without human intervention, the city/country-wide whole network/surveillance system, the immediate reaction to process a Dominator’s request, etc) were powered by AI. I thought that they used the term AI to update the terminology, since this technology is quickly becoming commonplace irl. Now I've seen PPP with subs and thought a bit more about it, I still somehow think this is the case but also, all things considered, the term AI also makes sense.

Bear with me as I try to break it down. The Sibyl System is a system that is bound by its raison d'être: the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people (very important: not all). To achieve this, it has taken over control of the lives of its citizens via the Psycho- Pass, a quantified measure of mental states/psychological tendencies and aptitudes— a supposedly objective measure. This includes law enforcement, as the system is able to predict an individual’s tendency to commit crime. We also know that the Sibyl system has auxiliary functions, like planning citizens’ lives or recommending the best option for the individual’s happiness, matchmaking, art/cultural/historical/religious control. Its role is very simple: assign the best possible job that one is most capable of (essentially eliminating non-productivity as a society), and through psycho-pass measurements, maintain/execute (criminal) law and order under the PSB. It can be implied that other non-criminal laws can’t be divorced from Sibyl, since its functions make all these possible within the confines of what Sibyl constitutes as “right” (and is implied,) based on the rule of law. Sorta like a chicken and egg situation, but the law, being at the base of it all. Sibyl came into legal force - it is, first and foremost, lawful.

Applying that to the definition of AI, we could say that at its inception, the law would be Sibyl’s code/algorithm, prior research (be it criminal/non-criminal data/aptitude/psychology/physio etc etc) and eventually its actual application is its data set, and the use of human brains as its processing mechanism. If we review how the system has "acted" so far, it's all consistent with the fulfillment of their purpose, EVEN if exceptions, limitations and anomalies exist.

A key concept that has been repeated in the show’s run is Sibyl’s “evolution”, which coincides with the same concept of AI “developing/learning automatically”. If I still have your attention, you will probably know that the main driver of Sibyl’s evolution has always been Akane, be it directly (S1, PP movie, PPP), or indirectly (PP2, PP3). This has been introduced from the start, with Sibyl itself acknowledging its imperfection, but insisting on the need to maintain its perceived perception in the interests of a peaceful society.

What makes it a bit contentious is the fact that the individual brains ARE very obviously still human - so I think that the “the Sibyl System is an AI” really feels off somehow, or at least conceptually feels like it should have been carefully defined rather than left up for interpretation, given what we’ve seen in the series thus far. In any case, here are some references to help you think about it and make your own interpretation.

World Affairs (OffiPro)

Genesis 1-2

Genesis 3-4

Characters - I’m just gonna put this disclaimer, basically if I quote something from the film please just understand that it’s mostly paraphrased.

Akira

Definitely one of my favorite additions to this massive cast. Not the first one to say it but what a shame (he’s so sexy UwU). He’s probably less complex of a character than Atsushi (oh we’ll get to him), since his motivations are not “heavy” enough for me to believe such a sacrifice. He volunteered to be a double agent, burned his face to prevent identification, took on the mental (physical, actually) load of the chips in his brain and for what? For the greater good? Where did we see that anywhere? It is implied that as an immigrant he’s had his fair share of exposure to wars/conflict - we all know this was the same case with characters like Kei and Maiko, for example, but if we’re simply relying on the context of this film, I got the impression that he was merely doing it for his brother.

Things I love:

Dropping the machine gun post shootout with Kogami, signaling that he has no intention to go that far (gonna talk about the other side of this coin in a bit)

RECITING THE GREAT ASO on top of that holo cliff *chills*

In the JP version, his very VERY noticeable voice change when he surrendered to Kogami and Gino

His “please take care of Kei” never fails to make my heart ache T-T AKIRAAAAAAAAAAA

Atsushi (& a bit of Yabuki)

One of the best characters in this film (who no one will invite in their wedding— oh the irony lol). I think that a good baseline from watching PP3/FI really helps appreciate him, though I didn’t actually care much if not for Niki making me notice in PP3 that there are conflicting accounts about him (a malicious one c/ o Obata in her testimony, vs Arata’s POV of him as a good and loving father), plus the more I learned about the complexities of Bifrost the more I got interested in him, too. Atsushi is clearly a morally grey character, and in this film it both comes out of his mouth (as a form of admittance in his speech), and shows in his actions. His speech: "The right choice can be wrong in a different time, that’s because righteousness is relative, but the truth is absolute. What we need is the truth, the means to accept that truth and choose the path where no one gets hurt." is clearly directed at only four people in that room. The speech also served as an admission of his guilt— and once again, the theme “he did what he had to/someone had to do it”.

There’s a line during his interview with Akane where she says “you don’t make mistakes. Everything you do puts you a step further in your career, as if you’re following a path laid out before you.” When she seems to have hit the right line of questioning, he was clearly about to confess, but alas, it was not to be. I remember reading an interview where Director Shiotani said “he doesn’t get to have it easy” and you know what, ok fine.

Atsushi and Yabuki’s approach is, in a nutshell, big picture thinking, the end justifies the means. They make difficult decisions, get things done and can’t avoid people from getting hurt. This is also driven home by Yabuki’s words to Frede “ideals are not enough to bring about change”. (He also said something good about needing that kind of power to exact justice and being prepared for the infamy that would result - help me if you remember this was my takeaway from it). To me, they both represent the kind of people who are about to become obsolete in Sibyl society IF it is heading towards the path people like Akane and eventually, Arata, are aiming for (put a pin on that).

We know that he was a Bifrost Inspector, and interestingly enough, it seems that Yabuki is too since they’re communicating via the terminal we saw Kei use. As is on trend for anything related to Bifrost, you do not see the hands of these guys getting dirty despite all the dirty work they actually do. That said, Akira, Milcia and most likely Saiga, are probably foxes.

Things I love:

I think that he and Tonami, while they must have believed there was no other way at the time, acknowledged that there was no excuse, and as a result are inspired (or in Tonami’s case, persuaded though begrudgingly) to trust the newer generation to do it better than they could. I feel like Atsushi already knew his time was coming the moment the deaths of those he had personal ties with started piling at his door.

His conversation with Kasei/Sibyl: “we’ve been watching you for a while”, implying Sibyl being complicit in all the dirty work he’s had to do. “Do you believe in the potential of humans?” and the response “of course. this is the reason why we exist” — really rubs the god/religious themes here, handing him the gun that will take his life as their parting gift, as if to say “this is your judgment”. I’m gonna touch on this again with Akane.

I’m not the first person to say this but with the exception of Yabuki, who was killed, at the end, Milcia, Akira and Atsushi’s acts were extreme, and I’m just not gonna gloss over this, cowardly. Choosing to die instead of living. Choosing to be absent instead of being present (in his brother’s life, in her daughter’s life). Atsushi preached it to his son (“do not dive without a lifeline”) but not only failed to act on his teachings but continued his approach. You could say it was the only choice at the moment, but all their previous choices led them there, and it’s even worse that they got someone else involved and killed, even if that wasn’t their intention.

HOWEVER, and this is going to be brought up again: someone has to do it, and therein lies the nuance in the other main character in PPP we’ll talk about later.

Saiga

I don’t really have much to add except they made him especially handsome in this film… 😳 And ofc I love that he picked up the lack of people in the building, he really said you can’t hide anything from my keen observation skillz. I loved that he was pretty chill about it too, maybe he was trying to cool down his favorite student 🤗

Things I love:

Akane visited him at 23:41 in the evening, I am assuming on that same day (it’s the time stamp on his laptop, also confirmed by Director Shiotani). I guess the concept of after office hours does not exist bec it looks like they left for Dejima immediately after.

“People aspire for comfort and find themselves unable to escape it, like me” and Akane immediately saying that’s not the case 🥹

Coffee on the lips. Leaning back on the couch. The toast and the chuckle RIP

“She’s not a saint/bodhisattva”: I’ve understood this to mean that she WILL enforce Kogami if it comes down to, hence he better apologize to her while he can.

His very meme-able criticism of Kogami before they got on the elevator

“Well, that was crazy!”

HIM BEING PEAK HANDSOME WHEN HE HAD A KNIFE ON HIS THROAT LIKE?!?!

The desperation and VERY obvious there is no other way here when Akane’s whole body is about to fall just trying to hang onto him

That they muted Akane’s scream when he fell

That she went straight down to him without so much as looking back at the fighting still happening

That she fixed his body 😭

I’m really gonna miss him. I always used to hc that Akane and Kogami would have a moment with him at some point in the future, calling back to their visit to his house in s1 but alas… we can’t have everything we want, huh?

Tonami

AHHHH old man, old man.

My favorite part about Tonami is that they clearly improved on making sure they don’t paint him as an evil guy. They tried to do this with Garcia, but frankly the novel did a better job at making him look more nuanced than the movie did— and that’s saying a lot since like I said, I love case 3. This is probably because they had the benefit of time, of course, and we’re gonna touch on this again later, they spend less time making Kogami look good (i mean, not physically) in this film.

They were very economic with how they portrayed his character, too. With just that one scene of him and the kid, you immediately empathize and are forced to listen to what he’s actually saying. My favorite scenes of any iteration is the “reckoning”/tnj that Akane has towards the end, basically summarizing the thesis of the story, and the questions it poses to the audience. This film is probably the best at presenting the most nuanced argument of the series so far between two sides. Very simple, very straightforward, and the movie’s prior scenes have done the legwork for the viewer to connect the points each is trying to make, like neat little puzzle pieces that make you go oh.

Things I love:

“Don’t forget you were the ones who made me this way.” (mic drop).

Akio Otsuka’s voice acting, especially when Akane was crawling to grab the Dominator. THE FRUSTRATION IS REAL.

This was pretty much confirmed and I’ll touch on it again later: he was not going to kill Akane (link) . I thought this was up for debate at first, but actually after seeing the subbed version I am convinced this was actually not up for debate due to the following:

It was him talking to Kai when he killed Milcia, he asked “You killed her?” and said “You messed up, Kai”

We do not actually see him kill unless there is a purpose. Killing the SAD guys to get to Milcia, killing the SAD guys to get to Saiga. He revived Bokamoso because he needed to get the papers (wasn’t convinced that Saiga really didn’t have it, as already established by Saiga a few scenes prior), and was biding their time when he engaged with Frede & Gino after Kai confirmed the papers were not there, probably waiting for Kai to finish with Kogami (“time is up”). Decided the ops team (Ko, Gino, Frede) needed to die after they were exposed and the safety of the General and Raphael were put in jeopardy.

He shot Akane in the same place he shot Kogami a few scenes prior— this is also why I do not believe this is random, but rather just a means to incapacitate them while he needed to do what he needed to do: possess Kai bec he now knows where the General is and needed him out of there, (unclear whether he knew at the time that Kai had the papers but likely he did since he referred to the memory chip during his first meeting with Akane), and have Akane not bother him while he possesses the peacebreakers in battle).

Shooting Akane again, not fatally wounding her.

Akane’s line “why don’t you just kill me?”. Like, really, why didn’t he? The link above sheds some light on the creator’s vision on this and it’s delicious, lol. IMO, if he had wanted her dead they’d not have even talked. Very simple.

This is not to justify his actions btw, in fact, Akane even called him out “the same wars you helped perpetrate”, and her lichrally saying “I promise to expose the truth about the peacebreakers, but this doesn’t excuse what you’ve done”. Madame Justice said YOU WILL BE JUDGED BY THE POWER VESTED IN ME AS AN INSPECTOR OF THE PUBLIC SAFETY BUREAU ETC ETC

He cares about Kai/Akira (the line to Atsushi “so Kai is your pawn, too?” at the helipad, and his concern about the divider overloading and his reaction that Kai is choosing to die). He clearly cares about the peacebreakers, too. Nuance, man. Delicious.

“You can’t stop what you started here” CHILLS. Definitely reminds me of Kamui’s tnj in S2.

Frede

I have a soft spot for her. She’s clearly more loyal to Yabuki & the MFA than to Saiga, and, judging by her character we’ve seen so far, she’s taking after Yabuki as well 😉

The reason why? #21 in Director Shiotani’s Q&A space last June 15 (link).

So pretty when she was conflicted about not telling Saiga/Kogami about le grand ̶f̶a̶i̶l̶ plan

I like how she calls Yabuki “boss” 🥹

Fave scene when Kogami calls her out for lying to Saiga LOL, I just love that he can just do that and that she doesn’t even bat an eye, I like that about them.

Gino

He’s not my fave, but I’ve grown a bit soft on him here I have to admit. Love that they gave his devotion to Akane more context, and that this whole system of trust between them (and the rest of Div 1) is shown.

He is right, it’s his ego talking (the boat convo). Akane didn’t and isn’t staying/tied to the CID bec of them (Ko & Gino) jeez man. It’s not about YOU. LMFAOOoOOOOooo

Little Ginomika moment, I loved that. Speaking of…

Mika

“This is no time to be playing politician” sis— did anyone ever tell you that you have an aptitude for it? The whole plan about selling them out if they all die so she could save their asses, then actually coming to their aid when it truly mattered? Does your fave ever?!?!?!

While she’s probably the one who has one of the best charadevs in the show, I fear a little that she’s starting to become a gag character, ALTHOUGH i’m arguing that she’s clearly still a writer’s fave with the way they give her critical hero moments when it counts (the whole rock star raid at heaven’s leap in PP3, then this “I got it covered” in PPP). I think Mika best displays the balance required to stay (sane) in this job. She’s able to take on what she needs to, and accomplish the role she’s set out to play, and at the end of the day she probably goes home and has a boba, binges netflix and has a good night’s sleep.

I dunno where I read this - but there are main characters, and there are main side characters. This is Gino and Mika’s fate in the grander story, with their arcs pretty much over since Case 1.

Finally, the good stuff. If this ain’t much of an overly long essay already.

Kogami

Before I go off, my experience is as follows:

When the first trailer of PPP came out, his words “I have no regrets” were so jarring to me. I didn’t quite understand how that was supposed to add up to the Kogami in my head, the hopeful man who was ready to come home at the end of Case 3, and the guy who said sorry at the end of PPFI. This led me to find some answers by machine translating the PP3/FI novels, and the case 3 novel.

In a nutshell, I had thought that the ending of case 3 meant that he was going to turn a new leaf and fight for the same justice Akane was (in short, no killing). Guess what? I forgot that he did kill Jackdaw in PPFI, and the novel pretty much confirmed his actions and thoughts around it (aka, he was really going to kill the guy— I mean, he came into the scene guns blazing, you know? AND I FORGOT ABOUT IT (I call this my akane-tinted glasses 😉).

Another line in Akane’s monologue that cemented my reinterpretation of Kogami, and I was immediately reminded of this passage when Akane sadly spoke to him right after he shot Tonami:

“Believing in the meaning of the stars was something only she herself held, and it was as if she was being told that the stars were just stars by the others she believed to be her comrades. When she began to consider that perhaps it was not the incomprehensible others who were truly isolated, but rather herself, true loneliness arrived. The moment of being cast into the sea of true loneliness, without even the stars or the sound of waves.” (the stars here was implied to be either law, or justice)

It’s been confirmed by Ryo Yoshigami that Akane’s monologues in the PP3/FI novels were written with the plot of PPP in mind— so you all know, this was intentional. The novels really helped me take a step back and assess what I was really looking at as a character, and Kogami’s role in the overall story. I thought he was someone who was on his way to change, I was wrong. I thought that his values have aligned with Akane, again, wrong. Now I know what some of yall are gonna say, that you didn’t misinterpret him. Sure, this statement isn’t for you then. BUT don’t lie to me, those who DID. 🤪

As for the rest, go read and form your own opinion (PP3 Novels)

Kogami’s sense of justice

As a main character of the series, Kogami’s journey has been up and down, but one thing that’s consistent about him, in the simplest terms: his justice is personal. Whether it’s one of revenge, which he had closed the door on post case 3, his inability to turn away from injustice, and in PPP, his acceptance and taking responsibility of what he stands for, and what he can do.

In the beginning of Case 3, he was making an effort to avoid killing— even using it as a condition for cooperating with Kinrei on the raid in the train station. This was during a time when he was clearly at a loss of what to do, still swimming in his regrets and just letting himself go in whichever direction life takes him. Come the end of Case 3, we see his hopeful decision to return, and, in PPP, clearly stated during his convo on the boat, his reasons. He did not come back to die, but to help people. This is essentially an explanation of his choice and lack of regret that he failed to explain properly to Akane, but if it wasn’t clear yet, this is also where the lines have been drawn between the two protagonists, interestingly enough, since the beginning of the series. Akane’s sense of justice is directly tied to the law, whereas Kogami’s does not (and, I think a moot point to argue now, will never).

He does what he does because it’s what he can do. The difference between Kogami S1 and Kogami PPP/PP3 is that he’s found a purpose/place that aligns with his sense of justice. He owns it, and takes full responsibility for it. It’s a facet of growth, though probably not in a direction that would bode well for him if he fails to look from above, as was Saiga's last words to Akane. I can take this apart in a few ways, firstly, and especially towards his “belief” in Akane, he’s a hypocrite (LOL). Says one thing, does another. Wanting to be judged after the fact is like, are you kidding me, man? Right in front of the blood of someone she just tnj’d “you will be judged according to the law”?!?!?!!

Let's take a break, I’ll throw him a bone.

He simply cannot turn away from injustice and would rather get his hands dirty than allow others to get away with their crimes

This is a great callback to his time with Garcia “you hesitated, and now someone’s dead.” See? Charadev. (I’m being sarcastic). It must suck for him that though he didn’t hesitate, Saiga is still dead.

To me, he’s started walking forwards post case 3, and while he still regrets everything he did before that, he’s left that behind to fulfill a new purpose in his life

In this scene specifically, he would rather kill than have Akane be killed.

Very personal, very short-sighted, very impulsive, reactive sense of justice. That he agreed with what Tonami had said, for all that talk of his belief in Akane, he’s a funny ̶l̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ guy, isn’t he?

I’ve always argued that if his aim was that good (and again, Tenzing commented on this, he CAN shoot to disarm someone), then why didn’t he? Kogami in PPP, in every scene, operates on a shoot to kill. I’m no longer here to apologize for the guy, even if he did, three years too late. I think that it helped me come to terms with their differences, and this is fundamental. Don’t get me wrong, I still like his character, maybe even more now that we’ve learned quite a few things about his… shortcomings (lol), but I’m not gonna make excuses for him in the same way he doesn’t make excuses for himself. He chose. He still chooses to. Cool motive, still murder.

Where this will lead him, it’s been alluded to in the film. Tonami is what a misguided Kogami could become, and even Saiga clearly reminded him of it. That’s a matter for his future, but know that this movie is sowing seeds the creators may decide to reap someday.

Things I love :

He got his balls kicked!!! Love that for him 🤣

Used to complain about how lousy his shirt looked is in pp3 and whoooaa he took the jacket off and I'm sweating

WET HAIR

TACTICAL GEAR

The PP OST and the dominator UI, before he takes his first shot *chills*

Despite all my beef about him, I still really do love the guy. Now I just dunk on him every chance I get, it's fun. And ofc, I still have a tiny bit of hope about his future, and I’ll be holding him to that standard, otherwise yeah, he can die in a ditch (or if we’re going there, he can die whilst leading an uprising to destroy Sibyl) 😉

Akane

So when I said earlier that everyone is being measured against Akane, I really meant it. She had taken a back seat since the PPSS films, and in PP3/FI the whole mystery surrounding her imprisonment was an invisible hand driving many elements of the show. PPP is HER film, and as a character, her continued relevance to the series' thesis cannot be discounted.

“The law doesn’t protect people. People protect the law.”

If Kogami was consistent about his sense of justice, she is even more so. What makes her leagues above him is that she’s driving change, and change DOES happen in the manner that does not allow her to break her principles… that is, until the end of PPP 😉. I’m not going to elaborate on her sense of justice, it’s pretty straightforward even if the series likes to throw stones at it as if following it is the hardest thing in the world. What makes Akane stand out is that it's actually not hard. Look, ask yourself whether it’s easier to kill another human being or not— I’m not talking about exceptional circumstances, but even then, I think you know the answer— there’s a moral and ethical basis here that she shares with a great number of people. Killing is wrong, it’s against the law to take another life. To me, the point of each iteration is to keep stacking odds against her through characters, each with their own complexities and nuance that the audience is made to empathize with and contrasted to her sense of justice, resulting in making it look like her principles are ideal and impossible to achieve, when actually, they're not.

One of my favorite lines of the film, when Tonami says to Akane, “these are the facts that lie in the shadow of the peace that you enjoy”. Let’s be real. Akane is privileged. She’s not had to fire a gun to defend herself in a war torn land— but the argument against this is the same argument for it— it’s because she doesn’t have to. Kogami is back in Japan, it stands to reason that he must adhere to its laws, because despite his experiences abroad, he is not and will never be above the law.

I’m gonna touch on something I already discussed on twitter, because there’s a difference between the way Kogami has killed, versus the way Gino and Sugo have.

As far as the series has shown, the following are Sibyl-sanctioned “killing”, the last one specifically relates to PPP:

As judged by the Dominator (LE/DD)

In cases of national defense/during the execution of duties as members of the NDF

In cases of self-defense in the course of an official operation

It stands to reason that just because they are sanctioned does not save the person from their hue deteriorating, because that part is directly related to a person’s view of guilt. Throughout the show, the audience is constantly reminded that the act of (indirectly) killing does not necessarily impact one's hue (e.g. the PP of the person who manufactured the gun is not the same as the person who fired it, the whole premise of the foxes in PP3, etc), hence the "guilt" associated with the act falls on the person who does it, which may result in a higher cc. A person is able to absolve themselves precisely bec they know they're doing it within the confines of the law, but this doesn’t always follow (e.g. Sugo’s hue deteriorating in Case 2). There's a good example of this in action during Akane's operation in PPP, when Tonami issues the order to kill, and the team, who had been disarming/arresting everyone a few minutes before, was left with no choice but to defend themselves, often resulting in a kill.

While the Peacebreakers were able to hand over this guilt to Tonami via the Divider, Gino and Sugo could not. At the start of the film, they only used the guns when the Dominator was not functioning. The difference with their actions in the last third of the film is they participated in an unsanctioned operation with Akane, have killed as a result and are now likely above regulation. Had no idea the words “once the hounds have thrown away their collars, public safety will never tame them again” also served as foreshadowing as this is probably why Sugo and Gino were requested for transfer to the SAD. And if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice that Gino actually gets the job done with fewer bullets than Kogami does. Kogami, from the start, comes into the scene, kills all his enemies on sight without hesitation. This is a huge difference, and this is what Akane is trying to keep him from defaulting to. Violence to fight violence was not the answer, but they clearly do not align on this. It’s a perspective thing. 😉

So why did she do what she did?

In principle, she made herself an anomaly, directly challenging the decision to repeal the law, by committing a crime in public while not having her PP deteriorate. In short, she pretty much broke the law to protect the law. So how did she objectively know that her plan would work?

I had a few discussions on twitter surrounding this, and frankly the “she knows she’s doing the right thing, not for herself but for the greater good” doesn’t cut it for me, nor does the premise of “leap of faith”. To do this, she HAD to have known with certainty that her hue would not deteriorate because if the dominator suddenly activates for her, then it was a pointless act, and more importantly, she was fully aware (as stated in the PP3 novels) that she was committing a crime.

There are cases to be made of course, the first being she knew that Kasei is merely an android and that Akane avoided shooting the brain (effectively keeping Kasei alive), but that still doesn’t establish the fact that Akane does not absolve herself of the act, and again, that she needed to objectively know this would work. This is theory time, but the only thing I can think about are two specific things, one in the film, one not.

Defying Sibyl orders to enact her own operation in the Kuril Islands - this is directly disobeying Sibyl, using her Chief Inspector authority to assign temporary roles to Kogami and Frede so they could participate, loading the Stronskaya Docs to her Dominator and giving it to the General, all these, unsanctioned and should have at least raised her PP. My guess is, in the aftermath, she noticed that it had not, despite the scale and the effort and potential losses had things gone wrong, and decided that was enough to go ahead with the “answer” she found for herself.

She had to have procured a gun. This was not in the film - but procuring the gun establishes her intent/motive, and should have also raised her PP - my guess is it did not. This would have been sufficient, but you can imagine, until the point of carrying the gun to the venue (probably hidden inside her hat), the fact that she wasn’t flagged basically made it certain her plan would not fail.

In the June 25 roundtable (link) , Director Shiotani wished that if he had 3 more minutes to add, he would have added a scene right after Atsushi’s death where the men in the roundtable ultimately decided to proceed with the abolition of the law. In hindsight, I think adding this scene would have been better, because it takes away room for interpretation that Akane was actually in a desperate situation, and not just frustrated at the close of the case. In the movie, this was supplemented by Kogami’s line “what Tonami said is probably going to come true, the law will likely be abolished.” Not as desperate, if you ask me.

Deviants

The difference between Akane and Atsushi is that, Atsushi, in his capacity as a double agent and methodology as a Bifrost inspector, is like a puppet master holding the strings, indirectly enabling change and leaving mere traces of his impact while others either take full credit (or fall) from it, whereas Akane pushes change by directly challenging Sibyl head-on. We have yet to clarify Atsushi’s motivations in rising the ranks of Bifrost (he was alluded to be on the way to being a congressman or that he had the talents for it), and the fact that he’s played double agent for so long with his methods steadily growing shady over time just goes to show that there was clearly a better way (and he ofc acknowledges it).

In the same way a CA can only be recognized by Sibyl by committing crimes OR if a Dominator was wrongly pointed at them, Sibyl becomes aware of these deviants (I’m gonna call them that) the moment they start defying Sibyl while being able to keep their hues clear. Perhaps Atsushi would be an imperfect version of a deviant, Akane the better one, and Arata probably the ideal despite being CA, sort of like Genesis 3-4’s Makami Sou. It would be interesting if Akane becomes APA, let’s see (read the Genesis links above 🙂).

“Do you believe in the potential of humans?”

Post-op Akane was forcibly promoted to Atsushi’s role (iirc, a Department Head of Statistics in the Ministry of Welfare c/ o Steohsama's translation). I think it can be read two ways: one, in the context of the recently closed case, to get her fully out of the way and busy with other, bigger stuff that she was already dipping her toes in prior to Atsushi’s death (referred to during their convo, about her not “making a fuss”). Two, that she really did have the aptitude to be someone like Atsushi— only that her methods would clearly be different. Now that she’s back in the CID, there’s obviously a question of Akane’s future as a statutory enforcer (fun fact, the creators pretty much confirmed that it’s just a name for someone judged according to the law but whose PP did not deteriorate / someone who was appointed as an enforcer whose PP is below regulation ( link / link ). If Hinakawa will be promoted to an Analyst, then there’s a spot open for her in Division 1, assuming she’ll be playing detective. While I think this is likely to happen, I think it’s a boring outcome for her. Like Atsushi, I want her to move up in the world, especially if the world is gearing towards Sibyl going public. It’s going to be interesting what role she’ll play in the future, especially because, as Niki had so nicely put, “she can’t do this alone”.

Oh, Koaka.

Objectively, I no longer think the ship is romantic in canon. I’m gonna copy-paste some thoughts I already shared at length in discord and edit parts of it, but if you’ve seen me the last few months, this isn’t new.

This is nitpicking, because I'm a writer and facts like they don't know each other, not really (they spent not more than 100 days in s1, maybe a few days in PPP) are things that are at the back of my mind always. I have yet to see Kogami and Akane treat each other more than the pedestals they put each other on (arguable for Akane but I think this is also why she keeps getting disappointed that their sense of justice doesn't align).

This divide between their sense of justice is their biggest flaw as a potential couple, and one that is too fundamental. I do not see compromise here, especially after the events of PPP. If Kogami were to gear towards a positive change, then there’s hope, but I leave very little room for that now. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing, either. I see it as a potential stance that the show is trying to make. “You murdered someone, you can’t go back.” If he had been heading towards change it should have been on the way for a while, not a “possibility” that he keeps failing to live up to. Getting over this hopeful assumption took me a while, but I think that it also helped me appreciate the wider story being told.

That being said, I think that romance in stories is important and I would like to see the writing team go there, not just from a shipping perspective but from a storytelling/amping up stakes perspective. In PPP I felt how Gino was much, much closer to Akane, and I didn't see this previously. In the past he was more like a controlling dad esp in s2, undermining Akane's POV, improved a bit in the pp movie though he still felt a bit on the overprotective i know better than you side (nicely resolved in ppp where we see a piece of his mind btw)— there's a whole lot of trust there. With Kogami and Akane, while they cleared the air after the infirmary scene, once again I saw that trust shaken when he shot Tonami.

These characters are depicted as human beings, and I think that entails grounding. While meaningful connections can be made through short moments (destiny, if you will), relationships built over time like literally and not let's have a nice moment in a film i'll see you next movie kind of thing, is something that, to me, means more. That said, Kogami was separated for a long time and it's lichrally impossible, but they're in the same place now. Where does that lead them? This is where part of my hope lies, small as it may be. Granted, this is not that kind of show and I'm fully aware of that, which is also why I'm happy to get what we get and that artists/fic writers are there to fill those gaps.

I still ship them but a lot less— I find it funny because even before PPP, I was always looking for more (I'm greedy haha!). I always saw the PPFI scene as just the beginning of their relationship— I wasn't convinced that scene was enough, despite the romantic undertones. And let me tell you the betrayal I felt when I found out the reason why they did the whole back to back thing in PP0308 was because... IT WAS AWKWARD FOR HIM TO CROUCH DOWN THE LITTLE WINDOW OF HER CELL and not the little romantic shit I had going on in my head— I just ( ╯°□°)╯ ┻━━┻

I went through the five stages of grief but at the same time it's not as bad since it's not like I didn't think that way from the start (it's just me being anal about it all, really. Because I would end up writing whatever I wanted anyway and canon didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things).

I do like their dynamic now given the recent developments, Kogami especially being particularly unskilled in the romance department just makes it all the more funny (I'm not capable of writing him that way though so I guess all my fics are ooc now 🤣). If they don't develop past the Arguably Platonic™️ way they treat each other then I won't be surprised if I stop creating for the ship, likely bec it will no longer satisfy my enjoyment of it.

Final Thoughts

I think it’s pretty much confirmed we’re getting more, it’s just a matter of when (can’t believe I’m staying here forever, huh?). Director Shiotani wishes that he will be making PP in the next 30 years, gotta love him for that.

As the series progresses, there was a clear tonal shift and hopeful direction it seems to be heading towards. To me this is partially because in a practical sense, this benefits the prolonging of the show (which we already know is true), but in a thematic sense, destroying Sibyl means the end of the series overall. No Psycho Pass without the Psycho Pass. And to this I give credit where it’s due. This is not the kind of progress you’ll see if Urobuchi is still in the writer’s room, and frankly, the complexity and depth of the show ever since he left has pretty much taken off in great strides. I had wished they were heading towards a natural conclusion (Sibyl going public) and leave it alone for a decade before they pick it up again, but I guess the producers have other plans. After all, they don’t have any other IP that has withstood the test of time, is ahead of its time and continued to remain relevant as time went on. While not perfect, this is an amazing feat of a series, and this movie is a stellar addition to it.

They’ve got a dilemma of course, because until now it seems they went with a serialized format (with a definite ending) versus an episodic one (criminal of the week). By choosing to expand the world and explore other facets of society, all the while connecting the threads in an overarching plot, they have to complete the “passing of the torch" before going back to an episodic format, which means they MUST give the new kids their time of day,̶ a̶n̶d̶ ̶e̶x̶c̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶e̶c̶,̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶p̶l̶e̶t̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶l̶i̶n̶k̶s̶ ̶b̶y̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶l̶a̶i̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶l̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶S̶h̶i̶z̶u̶k̶a̶. Shifting the timelines allowed them to usher in the new cast, but now they’re marketing the legacy cast and have to contend with their obvious popularity compared to the new, fully knowing that the legacy cast is returning to the back seat once we kick things off again. This is a problem that can be solved if a spinoff is decided for SAD, because at least a chunky (huehue) part of the cast will be cordoned off doing their business in Dejima, while the CID with its usual players can stay where they are. I think if you’ve been following Director Shiotani though, this is not happening without him in the driver’s seat, so it’s like… if they’re smart he will delegate this task to someone he trusts and we’ll get both a main and a spinoff, then a converging point somewhere in the form of a movie. 🎶Psycho-pass forever!🎶 (to the tune of Emilia Clarke "best season ever" GOT S8 interview, iykyk).

Finally, I’m just gonna say that I love Akane so much, I’m glad she got the spotlight on her in this film. To be able to experience this film is unforgettable, I’m so grateful that it was possible for me. I’m training myself to expect she’ll take a step back next time I see her, but more than anything, I hope to see her happiness fulfilled, no matter what that entails. Once more, I just can’t thank these creators enough. They’ve made a series and a world I’m obsessed with, makes me think and makes me evaluate its implications in real life, makes me create!!!!! I’m so happy that they continue to believe in the stories they want to tell. I hope they are all healthy and resting now (until the next one, eheh!)

I’ve talked way too much and it’s really just because I want this out of my plate so I can start writing my fics now lololol. If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Always happy to discuss!

#psycho pass #psycho pass providence #pp #akane tsunemori #kogami shinya #ginoza nobuchika

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bag-chips · 2 years

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My special interest strikes again, this time with my SDR2 scringlos : ) Thank you so much for everyone’s support for the Ace-A-Pony post! I really didn’t expect it to blow up as it did!! There will definately be more Danganronpa ponies coming in the future : ) Shoutout to @thiscatdraws, @etchif and @luckpuppet for inspiration!

Just like last time, we got some headcanons in the keep reading bit - do enjoy!! (Major spoilers for the series and SDR2!)

- Hajime is, and has always been a blank flank. He’s always been self conscious about it, and he’s tried to earn it without much luck. His blank flank is a key motivator in him signing up for the Hope Cultivation plan

- Nagito broke his horn in the devasting accident that killed his parents. I headcanon that a unicorn loosing their horn is one of the most painful things they can ever experience, and that they suffer from chronic pain for the rest of their lives. Miraculously, he can still perform some magic. This spell casting either goes off without a hitch, or can be very dangerous, depending on his luck

- Due to her status as an A.I, Chiaki’s ‘true form’ is an alicorn, similiar to that of Sunny Starscout from G5. Her horn and wings are made up of pixels, and can only be seen during the breakdown of the Neo World Program

- Many presume the Ultimate Imposter to be a changeling due to their exceptional disguises. However, they are simply an earth pony who has mastered the art of disguise and misdirection. They utilise some magic to help with the disguise, but much of it is down to special effects and makeup - which only makes their feats more impressive

- Kazuichi is deceptively strong for a pegasus, having strength akin to that of an earth pony. Although he is more than capable of flying, and even fine with heights, he is petrified of fast speeds. He suffers from bad motion sickness from flying, and prefers to spend his time on the ground tinkering with machines.

- Gundham claims to be the child of a demon and an angel, sighting his differing wings as proof. It is in fact a rare birth defect. Due to his different wings, he actually struggles to fly, and can only really hover for short periods. He comes from a family of bat ponies based in a cold mountainous region, hence his woolly fur. Although his tales are exaggerated (side note - this man is so autistic fkjdfhk), he is actually a decently skilled fighter and magic user.

- Akane is a skilled parkour athlete. She can barely fly, instead using her wings to glide in order to improve her elevation in her stunts. Her and Nekomaru are the best of friends : )

- Fuyuhiko is tiny for a pegasi his age, and has smaller than average wings. He cannot fly, and relies on Peko for protection and even transport.

- Peko was abandoned as a foal and left at the Kuzuryu headquarters. The family would use her bat pony heritage against her, keeping her in the family by claiming no one would want her because of it. From this, she learnt to ignore many of her bat pony instincts.

- Hiyoko is a skilled ‘breeze dancer’, but was often bullied by other breezies for her size. As a result, she isn’t afraid to figh back against those bigger than her, and is even known to bite

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enjoy-the-butterf1ies · 8 months

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Everywhere, Everything- CL16 (Chapter 1/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Series Summary: In which a rising singer gets her biggest break yet; opening at the Austin Grand Prix. All record companies would have their eyes on her- along with a certain monegasque driver.

Trope: Slow burn with a mix of other tropes in there (He fell first, one bed, roommates, all the good ones!)

Chapter Summary: This could be the start of her music career. All she had to do was impress the crowd- Which, for a certain driver, was a very easy feat.

Warnings: Cussing, alcohol mention, probably typos 🫣

“Shit, shit, shit!” You muttered under your breath, frantically tuning your guitar. You took a few deep breaths, struggling to slow your heartbeat to a normal pace. “I’m running so behind, Diana!” You cried into your phone.

Diana, your god-sent manager, perked up on the other line. “Girl you made it to the stage in time, that’s all that matters! Go out there and give it your all!” She chirped in an effort to calm you.

It wasn’t working.

“I didn’t even have time to stop by my hotel room, the plane was delayed so badly,” You huffed, tightening the last string on your guitar. “I had to set all of my suitcases backstage. It’s mortifying. Security watched me like I was smuggling a bomb in here.”

Diana let out a hearty chuckle and you silently cursed her for laughing in a time like this. “Y/N, deep breaths. Yes this is a horrible start to the gig but you’ll turn it around completely.” She said confidently. “I wouldn’t have booked you here if I didn’t think you were capable.”

Capable. The word seemed impossible to you right now.

“Diana, there’s thousands of people here. I might actually puke.” You felt your stomach churn at the thought. Yes, you were eternally grateful for this gig. It was the Austin Grand Prix for fucks sake- One of the biggest racing events in America. Fast cars, passionate fans, talented drivers, hell, you felt so out of place. You were simply an opening act for one of the headlining bands, but still. This was the biggest thing you’ve done in your life. “What if I screw up a song?”

Diana sighed, static trickled with her breath. “You are literally one of the most talented musicians I’ve met. And I’m not just saying that to say it.” She added. You swallowed at the words, knowing she was honest. “You’re gonna capture the hearts of everyone in that crowd as soon as you open your mouth, trust me. You don’t have a single thing to worry about.”

Your eyes flicked to the time at the corner of your screen, heart skipping a beat. “I got one minute till I go on stage,” You muttered, frozen. “Thank you Diana, truly. For everything.”

“Don’t even mention it, go out there and kick ass!” She cheered you on. Truly your biggest fan. “I’ll be watching on TV. Call me after the show or else!” And with a click, she hung up.

You could hear the crowd from behind the curtains, cheering for the entertainment to start. You swallowed whatever fears you had and pushed them deep down. This is it. All you had to do is what you do best. Music.

And with those affirmative words, your guitar in hand, and one final deep breath- you stepped out on stage.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“And there’s the man of the evening!!” Charles heard a booming voice behind him. He tensed up, knowing what was coming. There’s only one person in the Ferarri garage with that energy. Carlos grabbed his shoulders and shook the monegasque like crazy. “P2, oh yesss boy!”

Charles couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m very glad with that result.” He said happily. He really needed this win. Ferrari’s strategies seem to get worse every weekend. He needs a reason to keep hope.

“To celebrate, let’s get some drinks and watch the music performances tonight.” Carlos suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at Charles. Charles opened his mouth to protest, but Carlos clamped a hand over his mouth quickly. “And no, you don’t have a choice. I already invited Lando and a few others. We have a whole paddock rented out to watch the show so if you say no you’ll look like an asshole.”

Damn. He got him there.

“Carlos we really should rest for all the interviews and meetings we have tomorrow.” Charles said. Apparently he was the only driver with common sense tonight.

Carlos shook his head. “We won’t be out all night. Just to watch the opening act and first band.” He pleaded. “Come on, where’s your sense of fun?”

Charles scoffed. “I’m fun.” He crossed his arms.

Carlos grinned widely at that. “I thought so,” He patted Charles on the back.

Later that night, Charles and a few other drivers gather around a private paddock to watch the musicians. They had a decent view of the stage for it to be so far away, plus a TV in the paddock that streamed the show. Behind him, several of the drivers were laughing and drinking, not a sight you’d expect after such an intense race- but Charles wasn’t complaining. The media paints all of the drivers to be cold blooded enemies when in reality, they’re all pretty good mates.

“Shut up, shut up it’s starting!” Lando quieted the group, waving his hands frantically. He was a huge music fan. “Does anyone know who the opening act is?”

Daniel shrugged. “I heard it was some new kid, never heard of her myself.” He answered. “Hopefully she’s good.”

All eyes were on you as you walked out on stage. Your hands were shaking like a leaf and you prayed to whatever god there was that the cameras couldn’t pick it up. After what felt like centuries, you finally made it to the microphone. You put on your best ‘I’m-totally-not-petrified-right-now’ smile and waved to the crowd.

“Hello everyone, my name is Y/N L/N and I will be playing a few of my original songs for you tonight,” You somehow managed to get that sentence out without your voice wavering. The crowd was big. You had no idea so many people could fit into one lawn. Holy shit. Holy shit. Stay calm. “I hope you enjoy.”

A few cheers from the crowd erupted in excitement, restoring your confidence ounce by ounce. Slowly, carefully, your hands found their way to the guitar strings. The feeling was familiar yet foreign in this context. In all of your years of playing music, you’ve never experienced anything like this. It was electrifying. Your hands seemed to move without your brain processing it- almost like your body moved on its own. And thank god it did, because as soon as your hands played such a familiar melody, you felt at peace.

Charles, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off you. The night sky combined with stage lights illuminated your face in such a way it was almost hypnotic. Your voice, your guitar, everything about you had suddenly put him into a trance. Behind him, the drivers whispered subtle “Wows” and “Shes great”, but to him, you were much more than that. He was beyond confused as to how you weren’t already a star. How come you were playing at a Grand Prix and not sold out stadiums across the world? Where were the screaming, adoring fans and paparazzi dying to get just one photo of you?

It was a mystery to him.

And during this mysterious experience, you somehow flawlessly transitioned from song to song, each one better than the last. Charles had never quite felt emotion like when you played a wonderful tune on the piano- no words, purely a slew of chords and notes- but somehow told a story within them. He was hopelessly enamored by your performance. Everything around him, the paddock, the drivers, the crowd cheering loudly for your music, even the events from the race today, purely disappeared. It was just him and you.

At least it was, until your sweet speaking voice spoke into the microphone once again.

“You guys have been such an amazing crowd, I- It’s- I don’t even know what to say,” You chuckled, unable to stop from blushing when the crowd cheered you on even louder. “This has been an incredible night and I’m very thankful for all of you. Now who’s ready for the next band?” Fans went crazy, somehow cheering even louder than before. You smiled widely at that.

Charles though, he wasn’t ready for the next band. He didn’t want another band to come on stage, no performance would compare to the one he just witnessed. Not even close. He blinked in awe when you waved your hand to the crowd and camera, your smile as wide as could be.

He really liked your smile.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x reader series #fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #everywhere everything #formula one #formula racing #fluff #slow burn #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc

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lonelywretchjervistetch · 9 months

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My DC Cinematic Universe: Superman (Epilogue)

Epilogue: My Adventures with Superman

...Well, holy shit. Just when I was getting worried that nobody would get Superman, along comes one of the best comic-book related products we've seen in years, which delivers me so much of the stuff I wanted in a cinematic version of Superman...and is almost perfect. Yeah, it's definitely not perfect, but goddamn if this isn't one of my ideal versions of Superman.

Y'know, I've considered doing sort of a sum-up of the different major adaptations of the Superman mythos by bringing together all the points made in my essays, but I felt it was too much. For this, however, I think that makes sense. And yes, I'm doing this after only 4 episodes have aired, and yes, I realize that what just happened in the most recent episode is fucking insane and something I desperately want in a Superman story...but I'll at least cover my personal approach, since this show's kinda hot right now. And rarely do I have the chance to jump on a burgeoning fandom, so FUCK IT!

If you'd like to see my previous and insane essays on my preferred version of the Man of Steel, here's the link! Always. Be. Plugging. But if you'd rather hear my opinion of My Adventures with Superman, then check out the section after the jump. But just know that I like it, with a couple of caveats that you've probably already heard about this show.

Clark Kent: Abnormal Superman

Um...did somebody read my essays before I even thought about them, because this is pretty goddamn close to my ideal Clark Kent. He's a big ol' dork with a heart of god who wants to do the right thing, but is also nowhere near perfect in his everyday life and methods. He's a teensy bit clumsy, but still very well-put together. He wants to help when and how he can, and is willing to go along with shenanigans to do so. He has an actual personality, and most importantly, he feels human.

Yeah, this is a dude from Kansas who also happens to be an alien. And good goddamn, is scaling down his powers and knowledge of his past a great idea. Smallville, of course, did this, but that version of Clark was often too serious and rough around the edges. And maybe most importantly, Tom Welling's Clark never seemed like an outcast. I mean, the dude was handsome as all fuck, and built like a linebacker. And yet, I'm supposed to buy that the guy is a loser and outcast? Yeah, no, not buying it. But this Clark? Yeah, the guy's a massive dork. Handsome and built like a fucking freight train, yeah, but still a dork. And maybe most importantly...I don't buy this dude as Superman.

Yeah. Really. I mean, dude is OBVIOUSLY Superman, because he's built like a tank and super nice, but I get not fully seeing this guy as Superman. Somehow, FUCKING SOMEHOW, they pull this off better than literally any other version I've seen since the Christopher Reeves version. And yeah, that's insanely high praise, because Reeves has some of the best dichotomous acting I've ever seen. But this Superman and this Clark both seem like the same person and separate people at the same time somehow. It's an impressive feat that I can barely explain.

And yet...they're still definitely the same person. Any sane person would be able to figure it out eventually, with enough personal interaction. It's one of the reasons why the glasses joke exists, because it really shouldn't make much sense. But in this series, the glasses actually change the shape of his pace, and slight changes in his posture and voice (by the pretty great Jack Quaid) actually do work as a subtle mask for the character. But will that last forever? Well...more on that later.

I also said this before, but I love the fact that we're learning about Clark and his powers as he's learning about himself. This series is obviously anime-inspired, and it really leans into the shonen angle thematically and visually. When the first art for this show came out, I was intrigued but cautious. Now, though, I'm into it. We'll see how the more anime-esque electrical powers work out, but it actually seems like a reference to the sporadically used bioelectric field manipulation ability that Superman has in the comics. Yeah, he has a field of bioelectricity around his body that provides him (and his costume) with invulnerability, and also occasionally gives him plot-convenience powers. Don't ask questions, OK? It's a comic book thing.

Speaking of that, though, the creators are definitely playing fast and loose with the Superman mythos, and I'm interested to see exactly how that plays out as the series continues. I'm a little cautious for reasons to be addressed later, but I'm still quite interested. So, now that we've covered Superman, whom I think is fantastic in his characterization...let's get to the character who I think is excellently represented in this series.

Lois Lane: Intrepid (Intern) Reporter

Jesus Christ, this is a great Lois. There are a lot of ways you can do a good Lois, and there are a number of great Loises, but MAWS' Lois ranks extremely high on that list. Dogged to the point of recklessness, determined to get the truth at all costs, and desperate to be a great reporter, she has the stuff that makes any great Lois. But what really puts her over the edge for me is her characterization. Alice Lee does a fantastic job as Lois' voice, and gives her a mix of naivete, determination, and...oddly, hope. I dunno, there's something about Lee's portrayal that really works for me.

And a lot of people have pointed out two things. One, she's basically Lux from The Owl House. Yeah. And? Fucking and? Luz is a fantastic character in her own right, and very Lois Lane-esque. Personally, I think that's a great and worthy comparison for any version of Luz. Secondly, she's a tomboy. And I think most people on Tumblr are fine with that, but I also see some criticism for that choice. And for those who don't like that...fuck off a little bit. Not a lot, but a little bit. There's nothing wrong with a slightly more tomboyish Lois, and I actually adore a Lois who isn't a damsel in distress all the time. She literally fights some of the bad guys in this series, and we're only four episodes in! Seriously, I love that. And she is occasionally in distress, but she gets into that shit herself, which is exactly what Lois Lane is supposed to do. Look, I love this Lois. Oh, and another thing!

Is Lois Korean? Holy shit, that's fantastic! I said in my second essay that Lois is one of those characters who isn't racially bound in any way. There, I suggested that she could be played by a Latina, which has been hinted at before in some comics. But honestly, this is a great choice! And I only say Korean because, in the most recent episode, she appears to be wearing the top half of a hanbok, which is a traditionally Korean dress. And yeah, I'm fully here for it. Don't know if she's mixed or not (we'll probably see Sam Lane at a later date), but this is great all on its own.

And then, there's the other thing: Lois' position as Superman's Inevitable Love Interest. The ILE is, of course, a tradition in all things superhero comic, and Lois is arguably the first and most famous of all ILEs. Like Thanos before her, she is truly inevitable, and that seems to be at the center of this series. Oh, and at this point...sort of SPOILERS AHEAD??? I mean, come on, this was obviously gonna happen.

By the end of episode 4, these two are clearly romantically interested in each other. Hell, by the end of episode 1, these two are interested in each other. And can I just say that's they're hands fucking down the most adorable Clark and Lois I've ever fucking seen? I mean it, they're the best version of this couple in live-action media, and I can actually see them becoming the comic book versions of that couple.

As a quick compare and contrast of the most notable versions:

Reeves and Kidder were great, but the movies never actually committed in having them be a couple. They actively made sure it wouldn't happen a couple of times, to much irritation, and their relationship never truly blossomed, which was based on the comics at the time.

Fuck Dean Cain...but Cain and Hatcher were pretty good as a couple, pre-and-post-marriage. Which, again, was a part of comics at the time, so it makes sense. Even then, I wouldn't call them particularly cute, just more of a relatively normal couple.

Don't get me wrong, I love Daly and Durance's animated versions of the two...but they never actually became a couple until the very end of Superman: The Animated Series. And we only saw them as Lois and Superman, not Lois and Clark. So, sadly, they don't rank.

Welling and Durance were...off-and-on. Funnily enough, their appearance as this version of the couple in the Arrowverse crossovers was probably better than any other appearance they had, and their appearances in the 10th season were genuinely quite nice. High up there as the best version, and one of my favorites.

Hoechlin and Tulloch are, in my opinion, the best married version of the characters. They honestly nail it, and their chemistry is pretty much perfect. Their versions of the characters still rank pretty high as some of the best, and they're even better as a couple.

Routh and Bosworth...moving on...

Cavill and Adams...well...I mean...they have some chemistry, and...they've definitely had sex. Um. Yeah. That's it. Whoooooo.

O'Connell and Romjin are a little-remembered animated version of the two, and not the only animated version of the two, either. But honestly, they're really good in The Death of Superman and Reign of the Supermen, and were my favorite animated version of them as a couple...prior to MAWS.

And OK, sure, we've barely seen these two as a couple at this point, but I really like them. They're adorable, they're adorkable, they're supportive of each other, and their chemistry is basically immediate. They're just really cute and fun to watch, and I can't wait to see them progress. Especially because...

OK, I can't stress this enough, but skip the next GIF if you don't want spoilers, and scroll down until you get to Jimmy Olsen. Please. This is a biggie. OK? Got it? Read at your own peril.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT ARE YOU SERIOUS THEY ACTUALLY DID IT

If you've read my Superman essays, you know that I want movie Lois Lane to have found out Clark is Superman on her own, and before the movie starts. And holy shit, they actually did it in MAWS! FUCK YES! Lois is smart and sharp, so she should pick up on the fact that Clark is Superman! I love that they did this, even if her way of finding out was somewhat by accident. She still put the clues together on her own, so I'm satisfied with this ending! And I'm pretty sure they're not going to reverse this! If they do, I'd be pissed off, but I don't think they will. Just...HELL YEAH, BABEEEEEEEEEE

OK...I think the spoiler-free have scrolled past this by know, so...let's move on with the essay, shall we?

Supporting Cast: Jimmy and the Rest

OK, let's talk Jimmy Olsen (played by Ishmael Sahid). Honestly, I love the fact that he's a conspiracy nut with his own YouTube channel, and that he's literal bunkmates with Clark in this series. This is also pretty close to my perfect version of Jimmy Olsen, not gonna lie. His streaming name is even Flamebird, a deepcut comics reference that shows the creators not only know their stuff, but also actively care about Superman comics and history. That's one of the things that one me over in the first episode, for the record. But more on that later.

Jimmy is the third wheel, but one who's usually welcome. We'll see the fallout of the Lois-Clark romance soon, I'm sure, but Jimmy's role has been pretty much perfect. However, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that a black Jimmy Olsen, while welcomed by me...is a little weird when you look at the legion of ginger characters in media that have been replaced by black characters in adaptations. While, again, I don't think Jimmy is racially bound to being ginger, it is a fairly iconic part of his identity. And...yeah, a lot of ginger characters have been translated into black people in recent years, and that's...really weird, not gonna lie. Makes me think even more about my Legion of Super-Heroes essay, honestly. Still, solid-ass Jimmy, and I can't wait for more.

I actually adore Perry White (voiced by Darrell Brown) in this series, and his grumpy boss persona is...well, quintessential Perry White. I'd actually say this is a perfect version of the character, although that's not as difficult to nail as some other versions. Looking forward to seeing more of Perry's life as he supports our bumbling interns.

I was tickled pink to see Cat Grant (Melanie Minichino), Steve Lombard (Vincent Tong), and a genderbent Ronnie Troupe (Kenna Ramsey) in this show, because it once again signals to me that the show creators really care about Superman mythos. And honestly, these guys were transplanted essentially unchanged from the comics, as far as we can see so far. This may change in the future, but I'm very excited to see the rivalry between our three and these reports build and develop during the series. Great job with these guys.

The Kents only make an appearance in one episode thus far, but I think they're pretty good! We see them in the past and in the present, and they're a couple of farmers who love their son. They're also some of the youngest versions of the characters we've seen in adaptations, save for Smallville, and it works well! They also make it apparent that these are Clark's parents, even in the short time we see them. Again, good job so far, and I want to see more!

So, with all of that, I adore this series, and it's perfect! Right? Right?

The Villains: Literal and Figurative Cons

If you've heard anything about this series from Superman fans, then you've probably heard that the villains are...not amazing so far. And that's mostly because the villains are where this series takes the most liberties, while also downsizing most of them pretty severely. I'll go through them briefly here, but just know that the changes made so far are...not my favorite. And if you've read my essays, you know my opinion on villains in superhero media: you gotta nail them.

So, let's start with Livewire, AKA Leslie Willis (voiced by Zehra Fazal). I really love this character (and actually positioned her as a major villain in the second Superman movie of my cinematic universe), so I'm quite invested in Livewire. And this version is a tech-powered villain who kicks off the conflict for the first part of the series. She's a completely different version of the character...and she works? Kinda? Look, as the first villain to face Superman, she's fine, but she's barely Livewire. The end of the second episode hints that she may become more like the original down the line, but she's missing that sass of the original. And yeah, she works without that, but it doesn't feel like Livewire to me. That's nitpicking, though, because we have a much worse set of adaptations to cover.

Intergang is so much of a non-entity in this show, they have no GIFS on Tumblr. Understand, this community has made GIFs of every other character except these guys. In total, they are Silver Banshee AKA Siobhan MacDougal (played by Catherine Taber), Mist AKA Kyle Nimbus (played by Lucas Grabeel), and Rough House AKA Albert (played by Vincent Tong). And they've been changed from:

A cursed Scottish-Irish woman, empowered by magic and a major threat to the Man of Steel, having nearly killed him multiple times...and is currently dating Jimmy Olsen, which I kinda love?

A scientist who invented a process to turn himself into gaseous form, and used his powers to fight the hero Starman; this rivalry was passed on to the next generation, on the side of both hero and villain.

And the clone of a gangster endowed with super-strength, serving beneath Boss Moxie of Intergang, and the forces of the dark world of Apokolips above him.

...into a group of loser who got technology they couldn't handle. Yeah, it's a major downgrade, and two of those guys weren't even that notable in the first place. Siobhan gets completely fucking shafted here, and I think it's a genuine failure of this series. Harsh, I know, but seeing Silver Banshee get fucked over that hard really sucked for me.

Oh, and yeah, Intergang was a major villainous group for the Superman film in my cinematic universe, so removing their Apokoliptian ties...bums me the fuck out, too. Also, it looks like Flash villain Heat Wave is an upcoming member, which is...weird as fuck, honestly. We'll see how this pans out, but I'm not terribly enthusiastic about it.

And then there's Anthony Ivo (played by Jake Green), who's been repurposed into a tech bro entrepeneur in the vein of Elon Musk, in charge of AmazoTech, which is obviously a reference to the comic book version. And this was an...interesting set of choices, honestly. Some spoilers here, but Ivo's version of AMAZO is an armor that drains the power of Superman and redirects it against him. And yes, that makes Ivo also this universe's version of...Parasite. ANOTHER villain that I put in the second movie of my cinematic universe, and one of my absolute favorite Superman villains.

I don't hate the reinvention, but that's only because of what happens to Ivo at the end of the episode. I won't spoil it here, but he definitely turns into a more proper version of the character, so we'll see what happens there. As for his assistant, Alex (played by...somebody), well, he's interesting, isn't he? At first, I thought he was Alex Allston, one of the Parasite twins from the 2000s. But a number of people seem to think he might be another familiar red-headed Superman villain named Alexander, if you know what I mean. Let's just say, there's a possibility that he'll steal forty cakes at some point. And that's terrible.

And finally, there's...wait, is that Deathstroke AKA Slade WIlson (played by Chris Parnell)? Why is he young...and hot? Why is Slade young and hot? And two-eyed? I mean, yeah, sure, that's not the worst thing in the world, but...goddamn, that's some whiplash. Interestingly, he appears to be affiliated with Task Force X, which is name dropped in episode 2. Plus, Amanda Waller is clearly in the background, so a much wider plan is in play. And yeah, while it's weird to see young hot Deathstroke, I'll give it a chance.

Other villains have been hinted at, and allegedly radically reinvented, such as Mr. Mxyzptlk and Brainiac, but we've yet to see what will become of them. Still, this is a divisive start. As long as we get some actual supernatural threats, and not just people in armor, I'll be happy. Time will tell.

Story: Just Getting Started

At this point, it's pretty much impossible to judge the story of this series, since we've only just started. But, with the technology obtained by Livewire from a mysterious source, and then leaked into the criminal underworld, we at least have enough threats to supply tension throughout this first portion of the series. The relationship of our trio is progressing nicely, with Jimmy realizing his third-wheel status, and with the Lois and Clark relationship moving along interestingly and unexpectedly.

There's also a number of hanging plots that look promising, including Clark discovering his powers and origins; Task Force X and Deathstroke, as well as their interest in Superman; the missing Parasite technology after Ivo's fall; the rivalry between the interns and their reporter rivals; and even Lois' relationship with her father (who...might be the guy standing next to Waller in Task Force X? No clue, that's just a guess). So, we have some stuff to look forward to! And maybe, just maybe, the villains will also steadily improve. I think Silver Banshee's a lost cause at this point, but I have hope for Livewire and Parasite, at least. But again, time will tell.

I also can't wait to see what the creators have up their sleeves. They're obviously ans of Superman and his mythos. I didn't even mention what won me over on this show in the first place! Other than Clark and Lois themselves, of course. In the first episode, Lois introduces Jimmy and Clark to her information gatherers: the Newskid Legion. And for those of you who don't know, that's a reference to the Golden Age of Comics, and a group of street-wise kids that would become supporting characters of Superman's during the '90s (through the trendy magic of cloning)! The kids have an adaptation in this series, and that attention to lore alone made me an instant fan of this show. Sounds like nothing, I know, but it meant a hell of a lot to a Superfan like me. Now GIVE ME MY EVERYMAN BIBBO BIBBOWSKI!

Conclusion: A Hopeful Tomorrow

I'm...scared about Gunn's Superman film. I won't write a whole essay about it, but it sounds ambitious to the point of being bloated. A lot of recent casting news makes me feel like this is more of a set-up to the wider DCU, as less of a Superman film in and of itself. Plus, with rumors that Luthor is being cast, and no sign of a villain announcement yet...I dunno. It has me worried. So thank God for My Adventures with Superman.

This series is a blessing so far. Sure, it could blow for the rest of the season, but call me hopeful. I think this show is fantastic so far, and I'm really thinking it'll stick the landing with the first season. Alongside that, honestly, is the fact that it's trying something new for any Superman adaptation, and there's a bravery in that. I don't know if it'll go down as my preferred Superman adaptation (Superman: The Animated Series is a hard one to beat for me), but it's got a good start. And a brave series that inspires hope in the face of fear and impossible odds? Man, that's what Superman is all about.

And now that that's said and done (for now, anyway)...