#He’s already won and he’s trying to get his allies to win. But his allies are never recurrent. So is it out of pride? Or genuine love? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jakethesequel · 1 year

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Welcome back to Tumblr's Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow Competition! Before we announce the final verdict, let's see how our "lovely" contestants are doing backstage!

VRISKA SERKET, hailing from welcoming Homestuck, is in the blue corner! She's a TROLL, a TELEPATH, and a THIEF. She has also attained GODHOOD, and I'm informed she did nothing wrong! Just off the heels of a dramatic loss in the recent Tumblrwoman Election, she deeply resents being trapped in this narrative device!

Her attire today is plain by Earth standards, but well put-together by ALTERNIAN ones. Nevertheless, she has been known to dress up on occasion, particularly in the colors of her ANCESTOR, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!

She is extraordinarily determined, and extremely manipulative. She will do anything she can to make herself into the hero her story needs, consequences be damned. Her actions have made her the source of eternal, vitriolic discourse. Some believe her entirely justified, some believe her a heartless villain, and others believe everything in between; every one steadfast and passionate about their specific stance! Love her or hate her: VRISKA!!!!!!!!

HARRIER DU BOIS, also known as HARRY, sometimes referring to himself as RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU or THE REINCARNATION OF KRAS MAZOV, is here representing scenic Disco Elysium! He is a DETECTIVE, an ALCOHOLIC, a recent AMNESIAC, and a WASTE of ENERGY. Having just recently recovered from an attempt at drinking himself to death, we thought inviting him to compete might raise his spirits some! Unfortunately he does not seem to be totally aware of his surroundings, as he has already tried to touch himself twice on air!

His garish and mismatched clothes are STAINED with seemingly every substance a human body can produce. His face is locked in an EXPRESSION that can only induce disgust and discomfort in those who view it.

The few memories he can draw from his fractured mind paint him as violent, selfish, cruel, and pitiful. He has been trying to get over a breakup for six years, and has only partially succeeded through near-total retrograde amnesia. Worst of all, he's still somehow a decently successful cop. He has no friends and few allies on Revachol, with perhaps the sole exception of the impossibly patient and composed Lt. Kim Katsuragi. Even among his fans, you'd be hard pressed to find one who'd defend him, and ever harder pressed to find one willing to stand in the same room as him. Nevertheless, from the safe distance of fiction, let's hear it for HARRY!

In but a few moments, the doors in front of them will open, and they will be able to approach the trophy onto which we have engraved the name of the winner. 5… 4… 3… 2…

AND THE WINNER IS: VRISKAAAAAAAA SERKET!

—

Vriska: WH8T THE FUCK.

Vriska: WHAT THE F8CK!!!!!!!!

Vriska: I WON THIS????????

Vriska: You pieces of shit can't supp8rt me to win ag8inst some lanky rain8bow-drinking 8itch, 8ut 8eat one-in-fuck8ng 16777216 odds to win poorest, wettest, saddest, littlest g8ddamn meow8east?

Logic [Easy:Success]: She won. That means we lost.

Conceptualization [Challenging:Failure]: Another loss in a long, long line of losses.

Pain Threshold: You've gotten used to the feeling by now. Losing something barely even hurts anymore.

Endurance: You still carry each one with you. Well, except…

Volition: Not now. Not yet.

Authority [Medium:Success]: This doesn't have to stay a loss. Stare the girl down. Challenge her. Don't let this be taken from you.

Wait, what *is* she doing, anyway?

Perception: The grey girl seems to be shouting at someone, but there's no one else here.

Vriska: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Inland Empire [Godly:Success]: The unseen audience, the string-pullers of fate. The sadistic writer terrorizing their creation. The storybook itself, the confines it sets. She has seen the death of the author, and needs more.

Empathy [Medium:Failure]: What's got her so upset?

Harry: Is there something wrong with you?

Vriska: I'm not taking that from a walking dumpster, asshole!

Suggestion: There's still time to fix this. Say something nice, quickly.

Harry: I just mean, you seem upset. I thought you'd be celebrating your win. It’s a big accomplishment, right?

Vriska: Are you kidding?

Drama: Are we, sire? Should we be, perhaps?

Vriska: You thought I’d 8e cele8r8ing this? A vote for the most pitia8le, pathetic person in paradox space? I’m not so desper8 to fill my pity quadrant that I need to resort to CROWDFUNDING! That’s like the lowest form of 8egging!

Electrochemistry: You are that desperate. Don’t think we're above begging for it, piggy.

Conceptualization [Easy:Success]: Oh. This was not a contest one wants to win. Maybe our loss was for the best.

Vriska: And I WON!!!!!!!! With this kind of competition, HOW did I get all the votes? All of them!

Reaction Speed [Trivial:Success]: "This kind of competition?" She’s talking about you! Say something!

Harry: It was a tight race. You fought with honor.

Vriska: IT SH8ULDN’T HAVE FUCKIN8 8EEN!

Vriska: Look at you! What the fuck kind of su8juggl8or suit are you wearing? Did someone 8leed on it?

Savoir Faire: No, no, this outfit is *cool*. You just have to give it a little *disco*, man.

Strike a pose.

Vriska: …

Vriska: You can’t seriously think any of that is appealing.

Vriska: Your clothes look like they were dragged out of 8 different gar8age 8ins.

Vriska: You couldn’t 8e more greasy and stained if you drowned in a pail of 8rooding slurry. From the st8 of your body, you actually might have!

Physical Instrument: I told you. You need to cultivate more mass.

Composure [Challenging:Failure]: Please, don’t start crying in front of a teenager.

You realize that you already have.

Vriska: Are you seriously crying right now? I might not 8e an expert on the human metamorphological process 8ut you definitely aren’t a pupa anymore. Shit, you look like you’re halfway dead already. Grow up, Pupa Pan!

Endurance: You need to stop this, now, before you break down further.

Harry: Fuck off, fucking spidery bitch! Leave me alone!

Vriska: Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen a grown man act this pathetic 8efore. How the hell did you not win this!?!?!?!? Do you even have a single thing going for you?

Esprit De Corps: You have a badge and a gun. You are a Detective Lieutenant-Yefreitor of the RCM. At least for now, you have that.

Harry: I’m a pretty good fucking cop.

Vriska: There are no good cops you dum8 8itch!

Authority: Make her stop.

Vriska: I’ve known you less than a minute and you already disgust me. I feel 8ad for the people that actually have to 8e near you.

Half Light: Do what you have to do and do it now.

Vriska: You deserved to win this. I don’t know how you can live like that. 8ack home you would have 8een culled sweeps ago.

Hand Eye Coordination [Legendary:Success]: You have never fired a shot so quickly or instinctually. You didn’t even know your gun was loaded. You pulled it out the way a cat scratches a hand, or a drunk pisses himself. You don’t remember when violence became second nature to you, but you didn’t forget how to do it either.

Harry: Oh, God.

Perception (Sight): Is that blood… blue?

Visual Calculus [Legendary:Success]: Light swirls and shimmers around the girl’s body, flashing a technicolor code you cannot decipher. Her body floats into the air, and her eyes flash open. All eight of them.

Inland Empire: No justice. No heroism. Just mindless violence.

Half Light: RUN.

Vriska: OW!

Vriska: Oh no you fucking don’t!!!!!!!!

(♏) Volition [Impossible:Failure]: You try to run, but your will is seemingly powerless to drive your body. I’m sorry.

Physical Instrument: Don’t look at me. I’m in great shape.

Interfacing: Connections seem fine. Don’t tell me we have to unplug him again…

♏Vriska♏: What the fuck.

Harry: Wh-wh-what are you doing to me?

Vriska: Shut up I’m trying to f8cus!

Inland Empire: Welcome, Thief of Light.

♏Vriska♏: What the hell is wrong with you?

Encyclopedia: Severe alcoholism. Retrograde amnesia. Partial facial paralysis. Dehydration. Heart palpi- (♏)

♏Vriska♏: 8e quiet, 8ook8rain! I’m trying to rifle through memories here and it’s a MESS!

Interfacing: We haven’t quite organized since our recent… restructuring. Try the thought cabinet.

Rhetoric: Don’t tell her that!

♏Vriska♏: Too late, sucker! Found it!

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: Jegus christ.

♏Vriska♏: In pu8lic? Why would you—

♏Vriska♏: Ugh!

♏Vriska♏: You said THAT?

♏Vriska♏: There was a8solutely no reason to do ANY of that, what the hell!

♏Vriska♏: You should honestly just kill yourself if you’re going to keep 8eing such a fuckup!

Reaction Speed: Yes!

Logic: Sound. You should kill yourself.

Empathy: It would make everyone feel better.

Endurance: Hasn’t this all gone on long enough?

Savoir Faire: It’s a hell of a statement.

Drama: The noble sacrifice, like Romeo, like Juliet!

Rhetoric: You should kill yourself NOW!

Authority: She has bested you. Listen to your better.

Half Light: Anything to get away from her.

Volition: …

♏Vriska♏: Can you creeps 8e normal for two damn seconds?

MORALE CRITICAL

The light fades from your eyes, and you fall to the floor.

Shivers: You are being called back where you belong....

—

Kim: Yes, Lieutenant. A fascinating dream. I’m sorry you did not win the competition.

Harry: What do you think it means, Kim? Do you think it could be some kind of message? Should I try to find that girl?

Kim: “That girl?”

Harry: Yeah! Vriska!

Kim: No, Lieutenant. I do not think you should go looking for Vriska Serket from Homestuck. Perhaps try looking for the killer in our murder case?

#disco elysium #homestuck #vriska serket #harry du bois #little meow meow

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krashlite · 2 months

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I think that c!Jimmy liked being a Bad Boy and a Big Dog because for once in this series a role let him be reckless without being mocked/put down by his allies and without truly harming anyone through the risks he took. In this essay I will explore his character through this lens

Jimmy is an extremely optimistic character, almost always seen smiling and laughing about whatever’s going on. Not in the sense that he laughs when he’s nervous, but in the sense that he makes light of whatever scenario he’s in. On a deeper level, this also translates into overconfidence in a glass-half-full type of way. If there’s a chance a plan could go south, he only focuses on the potential benefit. If there’s a chance he loses a fight, he only focuses on winning

This isn’t to say he’s unaware of negative outcomes, he just chooses to ignore them. The result is him making poor decisions over, and over, and over again. Jimmy knows exactly why he did that but from an outside perspective he’s regarded as stupid

This is seen as early as 3rd life, with Scott practically putting him on a leash to stop him from fighting Ren and his army. Specifically when they manage to chase Dogwarts away from Joel’s base, Jimmy goes to give chase and Scott immediately stops him. They’ve won, and he doesn’t understand why Jimmy would push it further. Jimmy, on the other hand, is thinking about how they’ve been chased across the map like rabbits and knows DW will be back unless they establish themselves as a threat. Now’s the perfect time, since they have the upper hand

But again, Scott doesn’t see this. In his mind, the battle is won and they shouldn’t expend more time, energy, or resources on it. Ultimately he doesn’t want to see Jimmy hurt and believes that restricting what Jimmy does will protect him from harm

I think this shows a fundamental difference in how they interact with the world. Scott’s more practical- he only does what he feels is necessary and is humble enough to know when the risk isn’t worth the reward. Jimmy, on the other hand, wants to test the limits and see what he’s able to accomplish through, once again, taking unnecessary risks.

But this is where things get messy

Again, there is a fundamental difference in their thought processes. This causes them to clash, and since Scott is the one who held more “power” in the relationship (being the one to decide many aspects of their base and being the one to make most deals and plans for the both of them), resulted in Scott putting Jimmy down A Lot. This started with Jimmy returning from the desert without several of the armor pieces he left with and continued throughout the war.

Jimmy, in response to this treatment, started acting More reckless as a means to prove himself. He wanted to be seen as just as strong, smart, and capable as the people around him. Ultimately, he wanted to be respected in his own right, and that didn’t really happen this season!

Nor did it happen in LL,

LL was an entire mess for so many reasons and most of it was due to the game mechanic itself. Lives being treated as currency caused rifts in many alliances, especially the Southlands

This coupled with the fact that Jimmy is already back in 3L habits, trying to prove himself constantly, makes an incredibly messy situation. His efforts in monopolizing sugar cane are downplayed and mocked, he spends so much time getting spyglasses just for Mumbo to lose them. These are meant to be harmless jokes (and really, they are) but Jimmy’s coming off of an unbalanced power dynamic and a tiny bit of it eats away at him and he can’t figure out Why.

Jimmy doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel valued in the team, so he starts looking at arbitrary reasons Why. The reason he settles on is the life count, with Grian’s death making it known that Yellow-Names are on the brink of being exiled.

This comes back to the game mechanic. Jimmy sees Martyn with four lives, with the ability to either a) bring Grian back to Yellow or b) offer a Yellow-Name in the alliance a life to keep them safe, and Martyn Doesn’t. This tells Jimmy that Martyn either doesn’t trust him or doesn’t value him enough to even attempt to protect him

I think this was even voiced a couple of times during LL, with Martyn closely guarding his lives and finding every reason he could to justify it (he was fully in the right for keeping them, even if doing so hurt others). Jimmy backed off, but there was just a small amount of bitterness that lingered

With Martyn, I think Jimmy picked up on the fact that Martyn was more concerned with protecting his Alliance than the people in it. He needed a group around him, but wasn’t terribly concerned with them otherwise

And that’s what fueled his decision to steal the life. If Martyn doesn’t respect him, if he doesn’t trust him, if he doesn’t care enough to protect him, why should Jimmy do the same. Why should he be a human shield for someone who barely looks his way. Impulse and Mumbo could stay if they wanted, but he wasn’t going to

Which makes it hurt so much more when Martyn asks to run away with him, when Martyn says he cares about Jimmy more than anyone else in the alliance. I want to remind you, Jimmy’s an optimist. He looks at the half-full cup. He doesn’t consider Martyn could be lying because he wanted so badly to just be Seen. So Jimmy gives it back

As it turns out, Martyn was lying. He calls him an idiot, and Jimmy is exiled immediately

All the resolve that Jimmy had in stealing the life crumbles then and there. He starts hanging around the Southlands alliance like a lost puppy, basically begging them to take him back. Martyn’s little ruse inadvertently showed Jimmy that, really, all he wanted is to be valued and supported. The life counts stops being an issue because he’s able to recognize the real issue- he feels undervalued and he feels stupid

That’s a factor even after the Southlands reunites, after he’s almost unanimously voted back in but Grian’s insistent on a recount. I think it’s the main reason why he’s so risky when he goes down to red- with him falling for a trap that he easily could have avoided

Again, it’s the same as 3L. He feels disrespected and undervalued so he takes unnecessary risks in order to prove to himself and to others that he’s just as strong, just as smart, and just as capable as they are.

This is later coupled with Mumbo’s extreme bloodlust when he turns Red. On Red, Mumbo was needlessly violent and is basically the only Red to swing at anything that moved. And I do mean Needlessly violent, he got himself and others into several dicey scenarios because he was impulsive and wanted to Stab. He gave the server a reason to be cautious of Mumbo and any other Red-Name. If Mumbo was a loose cannon, how would others be?

Except Mumbo was only aggressive towards Non-Reds (obviously) and was otherwise supportive of those on his side

I think this actually greatly influenced Skizz’s decision to leave BEST behind, with him seeing Mumbo as someone worth defending/standing by. Not only was he a visibly strong ally with a reputation, he genuinely cared for and supported those who were at his side. In Skizz’s case, he offered a source of stability where BEST couldn’t, and I think the same is true for Jimmy.

Jimmy sees this, and sees Mumbo as someone who can both show him how to be dangerous and respect his abilities in this game. Mumbo was respected as a threat and genuinely cared for those in his company. So he’s the perfect ally, right?

Actually, no, and this isn’t where the Skizz comparison ends either. Remember, Mumbo created the reputation that Reds are a worthy threat and that they’re violent without cause (“oh but what about Joel?” Joel was a joke at best and an annoyance at worst. He I think he definitely did influence Mumbo’s actions but that’s another essay entirely). Mumbo influenced Skizz’s aggression this season, with him becoming more bold in who he threatened or even attacked

So how does this compare to Jimmy? Both of them were coming off of alliances where they were unsupported, so they leaned more into Mumbo’s habits- good and bad. Except they didn’t really see it. Good traits were associated with Mumbo, their friend, and bad traits were associated with their shared condition, their Red-Life.

The plan to trap the bunker played on both, but was coupled with Jimmy’s bad habit of shooting for the best possible outcome. Mumbo had previously turned tail and ran whenever a plan went south, but that’s not how Jimmy is. Jimmy only focuses on the possible gain and ignores possible dangers. When the trap didn’t set off, he insisted on pushing Grian into it. And that actually goes back to him trying to chase Ren’s army- he didn’t know when to call it quits

And of course this causes both of their deaths. To Jimmy, his death caused Mumbo’s. He caused the death of the one ally who actually stood by him. I think this is when he fully internalizes criticism from 3L and LL as a whole. He feels weak, he feels stupid, he doesn’t feel nearly as capable as those around him.

And this carries into DL

Except DL was a much different season than the previous two. The soulmate mechanic in DL meant that you and your ally have to rely on each other, you have to support each other because failing to do so will surely spell your doom

Not only that, but Jimmy was finally paired with a supportive ally from the start. They made their base together because they trusted the other to build more than they trusted themself. When Jimmy came back with cows, Tango’s immediate response was to exclaim “you’re amazing!!!” Instead of criticizing him like previous alliances had- even back in 3L!! This is the first time Jimmy got a fully positive response to his efforts. Tango was overwhelmingly supportive towards Jimmy and Jimmy returned the favor. The base didn’t look perfect, but it was theirs. The server didn’t want them to have a horn so they devised a plan to get one.

Tango had also been following a similar arc up until now- with him being undervalued by his alliances. Except in those alliances, he was pushed to the side or physically harmed instead of being an object of ridicule. I think this is part of why it isn’t really out of place for them to meet through dying. Tango was expecting to be harmed and so was Jimmy, so neither of them blame the other

With Tango being pushed to the side, he also shied away from leadership positions, finding it more comfortable to follow. This paired well with how Jimmy typically takes charge of things, with Jimmy making most plans for the both of them (most, not all)

But again, this is where things get messy

Remember, Jimmy uses risks to prove his worth. He wants to see what he can do, but is also still recovering from previous seasons. He still thinks he’s the reason why him and Mumbo died, and doesn’t want to cause the death another ally, especially one who loves him. Instead of staying careful, he devises a plan to steal livestock, to steal Scar’s horse. It’s for the ranch, it’s for Tango

I think Jimmy realizes the problem when the Ranch is burned. He’s forced to confront this when he sees Tango fly into a rage and almost try to fight a group of people he’d surely lose to. Jimmy cannot be reckless here, he has to talk Tango down from the proverbial ledge.

With this, the roles end up reversing, with Tango being the reckless one and Jimmy trying to steer him to be more tactical. And Jimmy is So careful about this too, not wanting to act like Scott or the Southlands. Because of that he never actually tells Tango no on his dangerous plans- ESPECIALLY the plan to release Rancher’s Revenge, the warden- but instead suggests ways to make the plan better

The dilemma here is that Jimmy needs to choose between being risky and being safe. Both would benefit Tango, except Jimmy knows from experience how much it hurts to be bound in bubble-wrap all the time

Jimmy sees no way to avoid risks without hurting Tango. So instead of fighting against that part of himself, Jimmy leans into it. He accepts it as a key tenet of his identity, even as it puts the both of them in harms way. Yes they went down in the end, but they went down together, Always Together.

It didn’t matter if Jimmy was a “worthy” ally, he didn’t need to be Smart, he didn’t need to be Strong, he didn’t even need to be Capable. He learned that he deserved love not in spite of his flaws, but alongside his flaws.

And this is the lesson he carries into the next two Seasons, with both alliances being fully centered on being reckless

The Bad Boys acted dangerously, but they acted as a unit- ESPECIALLY him and Joel. Bad Boys dig straight down, Bad Boys water bucket clutch from the build limit, Bad Boys care about each other not in spite of endangering themselves, but because of it

And this is because Joel had a nearly identical arc. Joel in previous seasons had a habit of acting recklessly in the same way Jimmy did, and was cast aside because of it. In 3L he ended up a Lone Wolf, in LL he was forced into a position where he’s the villain, and in DL he and Etho leaned into the danger in the same way Jimmy and Tango did. Their stories run parallel so it only makes sense that they’re the ones who end up supporting each other in LimL

And Joel was Jimmy’s main source of support that season, with Grian representing the criticism of previous seasons. This gave Jimmy the ability to confront said criticisms through, again, leaning into them. He did something stupid? Yes, but him and Joel were having fun. A plan went south because of unnecessary risks? Yes, but Joel was being risky with him. Joel gave Jimmy the ability to basically cut through the aforementioned “bubble wrap” Grian was trying to put around them

And I think it’s also important to mention Grian did this out of both love and cowardice, not malice. Ultimately he didn’t want to lose either of them and was trying to keep them alive longer. But because Grian never learned the lesson they did- that it’s more important to act together than to survive alone- Grian chooses survival and ends up alone.

Anyways, recklessness being the foundation of Jimmy’s alliances carries into SL as well

Jimmy was on the brink of death for almost the entire season, man was not thriving whatsoever and that was known. Funnily enough, he ends up with Martyn, who again was previously more concerned with his own safety than the people around him

But Martyn is just coming off of a victory, of finally achieving the very thing he’d been working towards and the thing he centered his motivations on. Without that goal, he’s left with his methods- which was mostly having dangerous ideas and seeing them through

With Jimmy, Martyn introduced plans that involved them being risky and in everyone else’s faces. This, to Jimmy, echoed both Joel and Tango’s behavior. He was able to fully settle into the fact that, for him, good things come from being reckless, from shooting for the best possible outcome and refusing to back down

Jimmy maintains his optimism and his recklessness, traits that had previously been challenged but traits he stubbornly holds onto and values in his Life

#someone pointed out that the only psychoanalyses of this man are abt the curse #and I might be making an amv specifically About The Curse but goddamnit I can’t let him be done dirty like this #will actually write the essay so if you come back to this and there’s a wall of text that’s why #edit essay is written #trafficblr #jimmy solidarity #traffic smp #grian #scott smajor #mumbo jumbo #skizzleman #martyn inthelittlewood #tango tek #if you want the canary curse tie in-#it greatly factors into the image of him being weak and lacking value #that’s why he fights so hard against it #he needs to prove that he has value and he needs to prove that he isn’t worthless because of his shortcomings #long post

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vintageshanny · 6 months

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Seeing Red

I haven’t been able to get this suit off my mind, so I had to write this one-shot about it. Even though I’m the one that brought it up, I blame these lovely ladies for fueling my fantasies. 😆 @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @from-memphis-with-love

Content: Backstage hanky-panky, 18+

Tia felt like she might pass out. Even in just a skimpy sundress, it felt so hot in the arena. Or maybe it was the man on stage making her feel hot. And lightheaded. In her 21 years of life, she had never experienced this sensation just from looking at a man. She bit down on her lower lip, forcing herself to stay focused, not wanting to miss a millisecond of this experience. She couldn’t believe her good fortune to win front-row tickets and a backstage pass to meet thee Elvis Presley from the local Richmond radio station.

His performance was so dynamic, she couldn’t tear her eyes away for a second. His playful banter with the audience felt like a private conversation just for her. She tried to sing along to the songs, but it was like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched him lay down on the floor of the stage. He crossed one ankle over his opposite knee and rocked his hips gently in time with the music. Tia could hear the gentle clanking of his gold belt against the stage as he continued singing “Polk Salad Annie,” his long fingers playing with the microphone cord.

Suddenly all the moisture in Tia’s mouth had disappeared as she stared at him, slack-jawed. From her perch in the front row, she could see the way his tight red jumpsuit molded completely to every part of his body. She’d never wanted to reach out and grab a man’s butt this badly, but he was just asking for it, with the way his perfectly sculpted glutes rolled back and forth on the stage as he finished the song and started joking around about being crushed under one of the ceiling fixtures. Elvis turned his head and locked eyes with Tia right as she was staring at his butt and licking her lips like a wild animal locked in on its prey. His voice broke just the slightest bit as he laughed and turned his gaze back toward the ceiling. Before climbing up off the floor, though, he turned back to Tia and gave a little wink. Tia gasped, feeling a throbbing in between her legs. All she could think the rest of the show was, “Elvis winked at me!”

After the finale of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” Tia made her way backstage, clutching her pass tightly in her hand. She nervously looked around, hoping to find Elvis before he was mobbed by other fans and his entourage. Too late. There were several girls smushed up close to him already. She sighed and hung back, too nervous to insert herself into the conversation, but unable to stop looking him up and down. She grabbed a bottle of Coke from a table of refreshments and turned back to ogle him some more. He was still in the bright red jumpsuit, and now that she was so close to him, she could see that it was soaked with sweat. That pulsing feeling came back as she clenched her thighs together, trying to stay calm. As she dragged her eyes up from his muscular thighs and a not insignificant bulge, she saw that he had caught her staring again. His full pouty lips pulled up on one side as he left the harem and made his way over to Tia.

“Ya here by yourself, darlin’?” he asked, his honey-coated accent making her heart skip a beat. “Well, I won two tickets and my best friend was supposed to join me, but she got sick at the last minute. It was an amazing show, but I was nervous to come alone,” Tia rambled on in a strange stream of consciousness that she couldn’t seem to stop. Elvis smirked with a twinkle in his eye. “Yeah, it’s always better to come with someone else.” Tia felt her face heat up at his obvious innuendo and lowered her gaze. “Sweetheart, if you’re gonna keep starin’ like that, ya could’ve at least come over right away ta say hi,” he teased as he grabbed the Coke from her hand and took a big swig before handing it back to her with a grin. Tia blushed and looked down at where his lips had just been on her bottle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Presley, I was nervous to interrupt your conversation,” she said, running her hand through her thick curly hair, her voice barely above a whisper. Elvis looked at her with a tenderness that caught her off guard and leaned in close to her ear. “Honey, jus’ call me Elvis. And I know a place we can sneak off and talk, jus’ the two of us.” Tia looked up in surprise but nodded. She was nervous, but not about to pass up an opportunity to talk privately with the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

With a glance around to make sure no one was following, Elvis grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly around the corner and into his temporary dressing room. He closed the door behind them and turned to smile at Tia again, his nose and eyes crinkling the slightest bit in a way that made her heart flutter. “Now that we’re alone,” Elvis said in a soft, low voice, “can I stare at you the way you’ve been starin’ at me?” His eyes wandered over her entire body, and although Tia felt herself flush under the scrutiny, his gaze held nothing but admiration. As he looked back into her deep brown eyes, he made an exaggerated motion of licking his lips. Tia finally loosened up, giggling and swatting at him playfully. “I did not do that when I looked at you!” she exclaimed. “Baby, ya can’t lie to me. I saw ya from the stage,” Elvis teased back. “Like a horny wolf on the prowl,” he laughed. Tia smiled but her breath caught in her throat as Elvis lifted a hand to her neck and gently traced his fingers over her caramel-colored skin. She couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that ran through her body.

“Ya okay?” Elvis whispered as he gently pushed the strap of her dress over her shoulder, leaning in and pressing a soft warm kiss to her upper chest. Tia nodded and ran her fingers through his still-sweaty hair, eliciting a small moan from him as she gently scratched his scalp. He pushed his face down further into her cleavage, and she could feel his warm wet tongue dragging across her skin. “Let’s get more comfortable,” he whispered as he grabbed the hem of her sundress and pulled it up over her head, leaving her in just her simple cotton bra and panties. “I’m sorry,” Tia whispered with a hint of embarrassment. “I would have worn something sexier if I would have known…” “Naw, baby, ya look perfect jus’ like this,” Elvis said with a soft smile.

Tia blushed as she reached to help him get undressed. She unfastened his gold belt, which came off pretty easily but almost clanged to the floor with its weight. “Woah,” she said in surprise. “This is pretty heavy. Doesn’t this hurt to wear?” Elvis smiled at her sweet concern and said, “I’m pretty strong, honey, I can handle it.” Tia moved her hands to help him out of his jumpsuit and then paused. “Whatsa matter, baby?” he asked, studying her face. “Um, before we take this off, can I do something?” Tia whispered shyly. “Sure, doll, what is it?” Tia’s face turned red as she wrapped her arms around his torso. “When I was staring at you on the stage,” she said softly, “it’s because your butt looks so good in this suit.” Her hands wandered down and cupped his ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Elvis’ face turned as red as the jumpsuit, but he let out a big laugh. “I just needed to feel it,” she explained as she buried her head in his sweaty chest and then pulled back to help him out of the suit.

It was so tight and sweaty that Tia had to basically peel it off of his body. She took the opportunity to press kisses to his salty skin as she moved down his torso. When he was standing there in just his white briefs, she could see that he was trembling the slightest bit. He pulled her in close and kissed her tenderly, slipping his tongue softly into her mouth as he reached around and unhooked her bra. Her nipples hardened instantly in the cool air, and Elvis leaned down to lavish each one with the attention of his warm wet mouth. When he straightened up, she could see how much it aroused him to make her feel good. His briefs could barely contain the erection he now had. She gently pulled at his waistband and reached her hand inside. He jerked forward slightly as she carefully massaged his heavy balls and then moved her hand up to stroke his length, rolling the foreskin back and forth.

As Elvis stood there with his eyes closed, softly moaning, she pulled his briefs down to his ankles so she could get a full view of him. She sucked in her breath a little bit at the sight of him standing before her fully exposed. “Wh-wh-what is it?” he asked, and Tia smiled at his sweet nervous stutter. “I’ve just never seen such a beautiful sight,” she said as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the warm tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Elvis smiled at that and guided her toward the couch. Instead of removing her panties, he laid his body on top of hers, humping against her passionately, his bare cock rubbing her clit right through the fabric with each stroke. Tia couldn’t believe how good he could make her feel without even entering inside her. As he continued kissing her and gently rolling one of her nipples between his fingertips, her orgasm caught her completely off guard. She tried to call his name but it stuck in the back of her throat as her legs squeezed around him. Elvis’ body shook as he thrust against her and then pulled back quickly, using his hand to finish himself off on her stomach as she watched in amazement.

“Wow,” Tia whispered as her heart tried to find its normal rhythm again. “That was…something.” Elvis looked at her as he grabbed an extra scarf to wipe off her stomach. “Disappointed?” he asked, only half-joking. “I-I-I know ya probably were expectin’ somethin’ more, but I w-w-wanted to show ya what I enjoy,” he explained nervously. “If it wasn’t enough for ya, ‘m sorry,” he rambled on, and Tia grabbed his hand. “Disappointed?” she asked in surprise. “No, Elvis, I was amazed. That you could make me feel that good just from, I mean without even, well, feel for yourself,” she stumbled over her explanation, moving his hand to the center of her panties, which were soaked with her own sticky cum. Elvis looked a little bit surprised and she added, “I think you underestimate your power to satisfy.”

After they got dressed and Elvis wrapped her in a warm affectionate hug, Tia looked up into his face and said, “Plus, you made me feel good tonight in a way that goes way beyond something sexual. I will remember the magic of this night for the rest of my life.” As Elvis looked down at her, she knew his sweet, sincere, lop-sided grin would be seared into her brain forever.

#elvis #elvis on tour #Elvis x oc #Elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #i love this man

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total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

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out of the three (four? if you wanna include ridonculous race) noah appeared in, which one do you think noah could have won if he cared about the competition

hot take; none of them.

he did care about the competition (at least somewhat) in the first season and it was objectively his worst. in island, he was too blinded by his own hubris to consider the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, isolating himself in a socially driven competition. he was standoffish and rude, which would've been fine if he hadn't outright directed negative attention to himself with his comments AND refusal to participate in the dodgeball challenge, and he offered little in terms of both teamwork and team utility anyway. so being voted out early was a given, and a much needed wake-up call for him.

he didn't compete in season 2, but if he did i doubt he'd make it to the finale. i'd like to say he'd make it pretty far into action- both because action has a lot more technology and media references, which noah could play to his advantage as both an established nerd and a canonical hacker (though these aspects of him are mostly delegated to his biographies/interviews outsode of the show itself), and because we know he does learn from his mistakes in season 1 so he'd try to be a better teammate (like he does in season 3). but i truly and honestly don't think he'd stand a chance against powerhouses like courtney and duncan, or have even a smidge of beth and owen's in-competiton social game/likability, so he'd eventually be voted out.

and in season 3, as much as i disagree with the amazons winning the challenge, getting rid of noah there and then was the right play from a narrative standpoint. because, at the end of the day, he's a filler character. he doesn't have any engaging plotlines of his own to warrant keeping him around, and his only real use from a writing standpoint is to make snide comments and witty one-liners; when the remaining cast all have at least one subplot going for them, and you need to 'thin the herd', you get rid of the deadweight characters first.

by world tour, i believe he's only competing for the sake of it, and he doesn't really care about winning or losing; if anything i'd say he only went along with the celebrity manhunt bus chase because he was supposed to stay with chris/the total drama crew, and since he was fired from being chris' assistant he didn't have anything better to do (he's always been a passive character, so going along with the crowd for curiosities sake is very much something he would do).

but if he did care?

i think he'd make it to early merge. a noah who cares about the competition would try to take down alejandro for the sake of his own survivability (after all, how long is it going to be until team victory is gone and alejandro turns on his own teammates as his next targets?) thus making himself plot relevant enough to keep around- maybe even allying himself with heather to do so. but alejandro, whilst not as smart as noah, is far more savvy and capable than him, and their 'rivalry' would end in noah being voted out.

or maybe he'd embrace his villain-coding (watch island again and tell me he isn't villain-coded. he does a "mwu-ha-ha" laugh and says "excellent." he's so campy bond antagonist coded in island) and ally himself with alejandro to garuntee his survivability, helping him weed out the competition as a right-hand man. eventually, alejandro would discard noah- either because noah would refuse to help him eliminate owen, or because they'd make their way far enough into the competition that noah becomes less of an ally and more of a threat and have him eliminated accordingly. because noah might be the villain, but alejandro's the archvillain.

that, and i think the finalists of each season are already the best picks from their rosters. i wouldn't change any of them to give one sarcastic twink the chance of winning.

(i haven't seen ridonculous race but i'm fairly certain caring about the competition is part of his character arc in it? he comes in guns blasing and then gets sidetracked by being smitten with emma, at least that's my understanding of it. so nothing would change there.)

#listen i love noah but he doesn't deserve a win #this loser only takes Ls sorry i don't make the rules (yes i do)#total drama #td noah #ophe's hot takes #character analysis #replies #typed this on my phone so sorry for any grammar/spelling errors 😥

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djpurple3 · 3 months

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Wordcount: 6.9k

Summary: Now that peace has finally, finally come to pass, Codfather Solidarity and Count fWhip have decided for forge an official alliance, treaty and all. Signing it during the Grimlandic Festival of Progress only makes sense.

And on the other hand, fWhip gets to show his partner around one of the Grimlands' biggest annual festivals, and they're practically vibrating with excitement. Everything from the community, to the food, to the races, to the fireworks - fWhip is anxious to share, and Jimmy is eager to discover.

It also makes for a pretty cute date.

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Written as part of the @mcyt-valentines exchange on tumblr, and written for @welcome-back-to-hoimycraf!! I really hope you enjoy the fic <3 and happy... yesterdalentines day

Full fic under the cut!

==== ==== ====

fWhip wipes their palms dry on their pants, trying to ignore how nervous he is right now as he strides down the main street of Eastvale.

The preparations are ready. Everything’s in order. The streets of the Grimlands are flooded with colour and light – multichromatic arrays of redstone lanterns, bunting and streamers and balloons and banners, candles of every colour, plentiful and bountiful flower arrangements graciously provided by Lady Katherine of House Blossom, musicians organised and already playing.

And, for when the moon rises, a bombastic fireworks display is ready.

fWhip planned the display himself. It should be bigger and better than last year. It should be the best damn fireworks display in the Twelve Empires, maybe the whole world. After all, the Grimlandic Festival of Progress starts today.

When fWhip was a kid, they used to take part in the annual gizmo-cart competitions, and he won more than a few. Now he’s the Count, he’s not allowed to compete anymore. fWhip also assumes it’s because someone wanted to break their winning streak of eight years. A shame, really.

But either way, it’s probably one of fWhip’s favourite parts of the entire festival. He loves to watch the races. He loves seeing what gizmos people make, especially the kids.

That’s not the only reason they’re nervous, though. fWhip’s been to so many of these festivals now that they look forward to it – they don’t even find organising a three-day-long festival to be that harrowing anymore. No, the big reason he’s nervous is for what else is happening today.

Codfather Solidarity is coming to attend the festival, and, more importantly, to come sign the official paperwork with him to declare the Cod Empire and the Grimlands as official allies.

And!Jimmy’s coming to see the Festival of Progress. For the first time ever. fWhip is almost giddy with excitement, though his stomach is also twisting with nerves.

All of the Grimlands’ allies are invited. Gem’s already here, though she’s been to plenty of these before, too. Pearl unfortunately has a major harvest to oversee. Sausage said he couldn’t come on the first day, but would try to make it later in the week. Katherine was also busy, but had still agreed to send flowers.

And… and he can finally, officially, add Jimmy to that list.

fWhip finds himself smiling, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. Their hands are clammy, but they can’t help but be elated.

Jimmy said he’d be here for the festival. Teasingly agreed that the Festival of Progress was going to be the best time for them to sign anything. And then he had kissed fWhip and told them he was looking forward to it.

fWhip checks his wristwatch again. Jimmy said he’d be here by mid-morning, ready to sign the paperwork at noon.

He looks up, checking down the main road. Jimmy said he wouldn’t fly this time, but rather bring an entourage – seeing how historic an event this would be. And he had told fWhip that by bringing people with him, he’d be freer to stay longer. He’d also given fWhip a wink.

So, um, fWhip’s very much looking forward to this! For… multiple reasons.

“Count fWhip!” someone calls, and fWhip looks up, turns on his heels, searching for the voice, and heads over when he sees a small group of his people gathered around one of the strings of redstone lamps which has been taken down.

“What’s up?” fWhip asks, and he’s already pulling his trustiest screwdriver out of his toolbelt. They’re pleased they had the forethought to throw it on as they headed out the door.

“One of the lamps shorted out, and it made the entire string stop working,” a young woman tells them, as the older man standing beside her helplessly gestures with the lamp in question. “And none of us are sure how to fix it.”

“Alright,” fWhip says with a laugh, gently ushering people out of their way, and holding out their hands until the man gives him the lamp. “Get me something to perch on, and I’ll see what I can do.”

--- --- ---

fWhip misses Jimmy’s big entrance, absorbed as he is in fixing the wiring in the lamps. The fact they have one wing up, shielding the sun out of their eyes so fWhip can still see his work doesn’t help for his sightlines.

fWhip hears the clattering of hooves, though, the telltale sound of carriage wheels and horses on cobblestones – though he’s so engrossed in his work it takes a few moments for the sound to really filter in. As he blinks and raises his head, he hears a familiar laugh, and sees a familiar pair of feet step into his sightlines, below his wing-based sun umbrella.

And fWhip lowers his wing sheepishly to see Codfather Jimmy Solidarity standing there, resplendent in the Grimlandic summer sun, hands on his hips, and smiling fondly at fWhip.

“Even today?” Jimmy asks them playfully, nodding at the tools in his lap.

“I was asked to fix it!” fWhip says defensively, before he connects the last wire and closes the lantern back up, and grins as it finally lights up. “And fix it I have!”

The entire string of lights flickers back to life, and fWhip hands it off to someone else to hang back up, before he flushes and glances at Jimmy.

“Um,” he says, turning to face Jimmy properly, and he spreads his hands, gesturing wide. “Welcome. Welcome all of you to the Festival of Progress! It’s an honour to have you here for it. It, uh, starts soon.”

Jimmy smiles, big and broad and beautiful, though the Codfather Head hides how his eyes must sparkle. and finally lets his hands fall to his sides. “Thank you,” he says graciously, and Jimmy’s council-people nod and bow too, before Jimmy’s posture softens, and he steps in close, lowers his voice. “I missed you, fWhip.”

“I missed you too.” fWhip closes the distance, wrapping Jimmy up in a hug, and Jimmy hugs them back with a contented sigh. fWhip smiles as he feels Jimmy rest his chin on their head for a moment. “I’m really excited for you to be here, Jim. It should be a really good celebration this year.”

“Especially because of the history we’re making, huh?” Jimmy asks, and he takes fWhip’s hand, squeezes it softly, and it makes fWhip’s heart flutter.

“Yeah,” they say, smitten. Before they remember, and check their watch. “Oh gods, what’s the time!? Are we late?”

“Not yet,” Jimmy teases, but he glances at the sky, checking the position of the sun the old-fashioned way. “But we should probably start to head over now, so we can set up.”

--- --- ---

The walk back to fWhip’s manor feels… important. It feels ground-breaking. Historical, even. fWhip could almost vibrate out of his own skin as they mount the stairs, automatically keeping pace with each other.

It was decided the signing should take place outside, outside the Manor, where it can be observed by the Grimlandic people. fWhip casts his eyes upwards, briefly, as they take their place in preparation. They unfold and fold their wings, shooting a brief prayer to the gods that this will go all go well.

Jimmy stands across the table from him, his entourage behind him in a small semi-circle like fWhip’s is behind them, looking serene, hands folded behind his back. What can be seen of his expression behind that Head looks neutral, though fWhip knows Jimmy well enough to see how the Codfather is gently rocking on his heels, a little anxious himself.

Jimmy sees him looking, though, and offers a smile.

fWhip smiles back.

Between them is a big, heavy, dark-oak desk – a gift from a Mythlandic king to a Grimlandic Count of ages past, if fWhip remembers correctly. It usually lives in the royal study, and fWhip, and all his rulers before him, have signed many important documents on it. It just seems right that this one should be signed here too.

The treaty has been drafted several times, combed over with a fine-tooth comb by Grimlandic and Codlish scholars alike, until it was satisfactory, before painstakingly transcribed onto vellum and the ink left to dry for two days, just to be sure. It lays between them on the desk.

A bell toils in its tower nearby. fWhip has to restrain themself from wiping their hands on their trousers again as people start to gather. He has dressed up for the occasion – just a bit. He can’t tolerate it much, the fanciest stuff is all robes, and …it’s a little too close to a skirt for fWhip’s liking.

So instead, he’s in his nicest trousers, his cleanest boots, his crispest shirt, a pair of charcoal-grey silk gloves, and a lovely formal jacket embroidered with red, gold, and silver thread he inherited from a however-many-greats-grandfather. They’re even not wearing their goggles, replaced instead with a circlet of brass, set with rubies and amethysts that keeps their hair back instead – and amethyst earrings Gem gave him to match.

The most notable thing, perhaps, is the shawl they wear around their shoulders, knotted in the front and kept in place with a brass brooch. The shawl is of Codlish make – and even more importantly: embroidered. It’s Codlish tradition, to wear and document one’s life achievements and relationships in needlework. Jimmy made this one for them, once they got together.

fWhip loves it, but they’re afraid to wear it out too much. Certainly, he can’t wear it in his forge – he’d never forgive themself if they burnt or stained it. Today is the perfect opportunity, and he wears it with pride.

fWhip finds himself looking at Jimmy, drinking him in.

Jimmy is also dressed formally, and he looks simply gorgeous. His hair is braided, intricate and shining gold in the midday sun. He’s dressed in Codlish greens, browns and whites, long drapes and wrap- arounds that shimmer in the light, some of it iridescent netting, and a shawl of Jimmy’s own tied around his shoulders. fWhip notices a Mezalean clay-bead necklace around Jimmy’s neck, an Oceanic coral and pearl hairpiece in his hair, and Pixandrian blown glass earrings in his ears, and the sash around his waist is made of Overgrown silk. Jimmy once mentioned his shawl is woven from Mythlandic wool.

fWhip also notices, with a warm swell in his chest, a Grimlandic brass brooch of Jimmy’s own pinned over the knot of his shawl. It has an emerald carefully cut into the shape of a cod set in it. fWhip knows – they made it themself.

Jimmy wears his alliances proudly – all of them – but he wears fWhip’s over his heart. It makes fWhip’s eyes brighten with tears, just a little.

fWhip shakes their head, and hopes he isn’t flushing. He’s getting distracted. The smirk on Jimmy’s face tells them he’s not a subtle as they hoped.

The oldest member of fWhip’s council finally steps forward as the toiling of the bell dies away, and raises her hands. The murmuring falls silent. Across the entire courtyard, all that can be heard is the amethyst windchimes (gifted from the Crystal Cliffs) tinkling in the breeze.

“We are gathered here today,” she says, raising her voice, though fWhip gave her an amplifying charm before they started, and she can be heard easily across the crowd, “to celebrate not only the first day of the Festival of Progress, but a very special union of two peoples who we thought would never make peace.”

Jimmy and fWhip smile softly at each other. They can’t help it.

“But here we are!” the councilwoman continues. “Together, united, ready to take this great step forward during the most fitting of all our festivals. It is an honour to stand here with you all, under the leadership of Count fWhip and Codfather Solidarity, as they bring us together.”

And then she smiles. “In more ways than one,” she winks at the crowd, who hoot and cheer and clap even as fWhip goes red, and even Jimmy has to cover his mouth.

fWhip and Jimmy step in together, and fWhip hands Jimmy the quill first.

“After you,” they say softly.

“Why, thank you,” Jimmy replies, and he takes it carefully, and leans down, one arm around his middle to sweep back his layers to protect from stains as he dips the quill in the provided ink, and the Codfather signs the treaty.

As Jimmy hands fWhip the quill, his hand shakes – just a little. fWhip takes it, rolls it in his fingers gently as he takes his place at the desk too. He stares at the document before him. An age-old feud, coming to an end before his eyes. A new horizon. fWhip takes a steady breath, and signs it before he can hesitate any longer.

As fWhip sets the quill down and steps away, Jimmy takes a breath, and starts to sing. His voice is loud and clear, cutting through the air. He sings in Codlish, and the language flows, beautiful and open on his tongue. As he reaches the end of his verse, his council behind him join in.

fWhip knows enough Codlish to pick up on what they’re singing, though the words go by very fast and he misses half of them. It’s a style of song they sing at births and weddings, of the cycle of life and the joy of starting, of making something new.

fWhip stands there, entranced. Only when the song ends, and silence falls over the courtyard, do they realise that every other person present seems equally as enrapt as he is.

Then, someone gently clears their throat.

fWhip jolts, and realises that’s his cue, and he sharply turns on his heel to face the crowd, turning his own amplifier charm on with a tap, and throws out his arms.

“The deal is done!” he cries. “Let the Festival of Progress begin!”

The crowd erupts into cheers, before music starts up again, and the whole place comes alive.

--- --- ---

Jimmy takes fWhip’s hand as the crowd moves around them, and over the noise, fWhip hears the delighted peal of Jimmy’s laughter.

fWhip steps in close, puts a wing around Jimmy.

“Want to find somewhere quiet?” they ask, raising their voice.

“Okay!” Jimmy says. “Just for a moment!”

fWhip nods, and turns to the Manor’s front doors, leading Jimmy inside. He also invites Jimmy’s councillors in, telling them where they can put their bags, before they and Jimmy politely disappear into fWhip’s chambers.

Jimmy lifts the Codfather Head off carefully, and fWhip gets to watch with a dreamy smile as Jimmy’s face gets revealed. Logically, they know what Jimmy’s face looks like – but it’s wonderful to watch the reveal every time.

“Stop,” Jimmy looks away, red.

“Stop what?” fWhip asks.

“Looking at me like that!” Jimmy turns away to put the Head down carefully on fWhip’s dresser. Something in fWhip’s chest aches a little at that – at the show of trust. This all fell apart over that Head, and now Jimmy feels safe enough to leave it in fWhip’s bedroom, on his dresser. “Like I’m…”

“Like you’re what?” fWhip raises an eyebrow, his grin spreading. “Gorgeous? Breathtaking? Beautiful?”

Jimmy goes redder, and lets fWhip put their hands on his waist.

“Yeah,” he breathes, slinging his arms around fWhip’s shoulders. “All that.”

“You’re all that and more, ally,” fWhip says, meaning to sound more teasing, but the fondness breaks through, unstoppable.

“Ally,” Jimmy echoes, relief shining in his eyes. “Ally. I love you, fWhip.”

fWhip rises up on the balls of their feet, tilting his head as they lean in. “I love you too,” they whisper back.

Jimmy meets them halfway with a kiss.

It’s tender and soft, and fWhip yearns for more even as their lips part, and Jimmy hums into it. It’d be irresponsible to deepen the kiss now – but by the gods, does fWhip want to.

“Later,” Jimmy promises as they break apart for air, and fWhip kisses his throat for good measure. “Tonight.”

“Good,” fWhip says, wrapping their wings around him as they all but breathe Jimmy in. “God, I missed you.”

Jimmy peppers kisses over fWhip’s hair, in agreement, before his fingers trace the circlet nestled between fWhip’s horns.

“This is pretty,” he compliments.

“Thanks.” fWhip shudders a little. “It was an heirloom. Only rediscovered it a few months ago. It had to be resized so it’d fit me.”

fWhip tips his head back up as he speaks so he can look at Jimmy. Jimmy’s already looking at fWhip like they’re something precious, and it makes the words fWhip was going to say fade on his tongue, before the two of them drift back together. They kiss again. And once more, for good measure, before there’s a knock at the door.

“My lords,” one of fWhip’s staff calls. “Lunch is ready for you in the parlour.”

They break the kiss so fWhip can call back, “Thank you, we’ll be there shortly.”

Footsteps patter away.

Jimmy and fWhip glance at each other, before the two of them break into giggles.

“I like how they know not to open the door, now,” Jimmy teases, before he kisses fWhip’s forehead, as fWhip shivers and tries to convince himself to let Jimmy go. “Now, come on, before they decide they have to send a reminder.”

--- --- ---

The food was delightful, but fWhip can hardly focus on it. He watches until Jimmy signals he’s done, before they rise from their seat and offers a hand to their partner. Jimmy takes it with a gracious smile.

“Ready to see the festival?” fWhip asks.

“More than ready,” Jimmy replies, rising to his feet. “Where do we start?”

“It’s almost time for the gizmo races, so, there!”

fWhip practically drags Jimmy out the room, out the atrium, down the stairs and down the main road, to the plaza with the fountain in the centre, and fWhip and him get ushered over to a raised platform.

Jimmy stares at the miniature racetracks set up around the fountain itself.

“What is this?!” he asks, as fWhip pulls him up on the riser with him.

“Gizmo racing!” fWhip repeats. “It’s a time-honoured tradition. I’ve been Festival Champion eight years in a row, it’s one of my favourite events.”

“Who broke your streak?” Jimmy asks, peering over at the racecourse, drinking it all in. The individual lanes, as well as the starting-slash-end line are drawn in chalk straight onto the cobblestones. An extra string of colourful bunting is strung over the finish line.

“Not being allowed to compete anymore!” fWhip says cheerfully. “They said I was too good.”

Jimmy snorts, and steps in a little closer to fWhip, so they can wrap a wing around him.

“You still haven’t told me what a gizmo is.”

“It’s like a little cart,” fWhip gestures the rough size with his hands. “Regulation says they can’t be bigger than a half-slab. At least three wheels. They have to be remote controllable, self-powered, and self-propelled. People spend months making a gizmo for the Festival Races. There are separate classes for adults and for kids.”

Jimmy turns his head and sees the line of children, all with a little device of some sort in their hands, putting their… gizmos down at the starting line. Someone double-checks all the little carts are lined up fairly.

“Does it get intense?” Jimmy asks.

“Oh yeah,” fWhip says. “People take it very seriously. It’s great. First to five laps wins.”

Hubbub falls quiet, now. People look to fWhip, who is almost vibrating with excitement.

“Racers!” he calls. “Are ya ready?”

Jimmy hides a smile behind his hand at the very enthusiastic chorus of kids’ replies.

“Start your gizmos!”

Jimmy listens to a cacophony of whirring and humming start up.

“Ready!” he calls, almost bouncing in time with the rhythm of his words, and the spectators join in on the countdown too, the whole crowd bobbing with this energy, “Steady! GO!”

Jimmy laughs with delight as the race begins. The kids are all lazer-focussed, and it’s amazing how fast the gizmo carts can go, whizzing around the racetrack. They are all different shapes and sizes; some having big, thick, tall wheels and little chassis; some being long and flat with many smaller wheels. Jimmy’s favourite is one that looks like a pig.

People hoot and holler and cheer. Jimmy has to cling to fWhip’s arm as his partner bounces so much that the riser shakes under their feet.

Jimmy can barely keep track of which lap is which, despite flags being waved and whistles being blown. The crowd gasps and groans as one gizmo flips, spins out and takes three more with it. Some of the kids start yelling at each other.

“Final lap!” someone with a flag announces.

People start clapping their hands, stomping their feet, rhythmic but getting faster and faster as the little carts all rip around the track one last time. Jimmy cheers himself as the pig gizmo weaves through the pack and pulls ahead, just for a moment, before a mean looking one almost double its size comes up behind it.

“Go pig!” Jimmy calls.

fWhip laughs, thrilled Jimmy’s joining in, and echoes, “Go pig!”

The pig zooms ahead, swerving out of the way of the second place gizmo. They are almost neck and neck, but the pig pulls ahead one last time, under the swooping of the checkered flag, over the finish line.

One little kid jumps up and down with an excited scream, face split into a huge grin, and the crowd applauds them.

“Bonus points for style,” fWhip says admiringly.

“…How much more intense does the adult one get?” Jimmy asks, leaning in to ask more quietly into fWhip’s ear. “I think it’s a bit much for me.”

fWhip snorts. “A bit more,” they admit. “Hey, we can go-”

“No, no,” Jimmy shoves them lightly. “You stay. I… I can go find us a snack. Are there snacks here?”

“Oh yeah,” fWhip says, and points out a line of colourful vendors’ carts on the far end of the courtyard. “You have to try a potato on a stick. I’d like a chicken one.”

“…Okay,” Jimmy says. “I’ll be back?”

“I’ll wait for you here,” fWhip turns to Jimmy now, and tilts their head up questioningly. Jimmy dips down for a quick kiss, and feels fWhip smile into it. It really is surreal, that they can do this in public, that Jimmy can be here amidst fWhip’s people and be safe, be wanted here.

“Sounds good.” Jimmy trails his fingertips down the membrane of fWhip’s wing as they pull apart, which makes fWhip shudder and go a little red and stare at Jimmy with wide eyes – Jimmy’s favourite expression to get out of fWhip.

Then, Jimmy steps off the riser and starts to weave his way through the crowd to go find food.

--- --- ---

Jimmy joins the queue for one of the food carts, and he watches people walk away with their food with wide eyes. It’s a – roasted or fried? – probably fried potato, that has been cut into a spiral – though it’s still one continuous piece and speared on a wooden stick. The outsides seem to be coated in various kinds of flavoured salt, that must be what fWhip meant by a chicken potato.

People stare at him a little, but Jimmy is met with polite nods or bows or smiles, and he smiles and nods back. Jimmy wait patiently, as the crowd watching the races keeps cheering and roaring behind him, and eventually, he’s at the front of the line.

“Oh!” says the vendor. “Codfather! What can I get you?”

“Um, two potatoes, please?” Jimmy asks. “One chicken, and… what do you recommend?”

“Well, honestly,” says the vendor as she starts to prepare the first one, and Jimmy watches the machine she has with great interest as it cuts the cooked potato cleanly, “my favourite is also the chicken. But… you a fan of salt and vinegar?”

“I am, actually.”

“Then I’d say that. It’s also popular, and if you don’t like it, you can steal his,” she winks, handing Jimmy the first one and prepping the other, and Jimmy flushes a little, though it’s hidden behind his Head. “Enjoy!”

Jimmy fumbles with a pouch on his belt as she holds out the second stick, but the vendor loudly clicks her tongue.

“Don’t be silly, sir,” she says. “Take them. It’s the Festival! The council’s covered the food costs.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Jimmy lets the lady press the second stick into his hand. “Thank you, then.”

“Enjoy!” she calls, as Jimmy steps away. “Next! What can I getcha?”

Jimmy transfers both potatoes to one hand and goes searching for something to drink, too. The sun is high in the sky – it’s midsummer, it’s a beautiful day – and it’s making Jimmy thirsty. The air here is a lot more arid than he’s used to.

Eventually, he’s attempting to weave his way back through the crowd to fWhip’s riser with his potatoes-on-sticks and two bottles of cordial. Fortunately, when people see him trying to slip through, they move for him, and Jimmy hurries back to fWhip, who grabs his arm and helps him back up.

“Thanks,” Jimmy says breathlessly. “Here’s yours.”

“Thank you,” fWhip says sweetly, taking the bottle and the stick.

“How’s it going?” Jimmy peers over at the race, which seems to be setting up for one last thing.

“It’s last years champion against this year’s new first place, for ultimate winner this year,” fWhip says, words muffled as they also tear into the potato swirl with their teeth. “This doesn’t count for the medal, that guy’s already won it, but it’s like, for glory, y’know?”

“Uh huh,” Jimmy says. He shrugs and starts eating his own potato swirl too, and his eyes light up as he eats. “This is good.”

“I know, right?” fWhip grins. “They’re so good.”

Jimmy watches the race with less interest than before, he won’t lie, but he takes the opportunity to look around the plaza instead. The place looks vibrant and colourful in a way Jimmy didn’t even know the Grimlands could be. It really is stunning.

A loud wave of cheering makes Jimmy look back, and he sees that the races are finally over. He’s not much for these things, if he’s honest, but the part that makes it worth it is seeing fWhip come alive, grinning and bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement.

“That was better than last year,” fWhip declares to Jimmy, as the crowd starts to dissipate, and Jimmy looks up once he hears music start playing again. “That was awesome. God, did you see the one constructed of copper and gold? It was beautiful.”

“I did,” Jimmy agrees, shifting on his feet. “And it was. …fWhip, love, can we find somewhere to sit down for a little?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, of course.”

--- --- ---

Jimmy people watches for the next little while, as they finish their snack and drink their cordials, and fWhip Jimmy-watches as the afternoon sun makes its way across the sky.

“How are you?” fWhip eventually asks. “I haven’t bored you, have I?”

Jimmy, taking an unfortunately-timed swig of his drink, chokes a little on it as he turns to fWhip quickly. “No!” he cries. “No, love, not at all. There’s so many things to look at, is all. And I’ve never been much for racing, I won’t lie. Even Lizzie’s swimming races aren’t my cuppa tea.”

“Fair enough,” fWhip nods, swinging their feet. “What is your cup of tea, then? There’s games and stuff, we can go find some.”

“That sounds nice,” Jimmy agrees, fanning himself with his hand. “Yeesh, it’s hot.”

“Is it?” fWhip squints at the sky.

“You Southerners have hotter summers overall, I think,” Jimmy says. “Or at least, being further from the sea makes it worse. Gods, you’re still wearing a jacket.”

fWhip can’t help but laugh, and leans their head on Jimmy’s shoulder as their partner cools off.

--- --- ---

They wander the streets now, fWhip letting Jimmy gawk at all the displays. Jimmy holds their hand the whole time, and it makes fWhip’s heart beat so fast.

Jimmy stops to admire a jewellery stand, around them people of all ages are playing games, and some kids have just pulled out a long jump rope. fWhip tries to follow Jimmy’s eye to see what his partner is looking for here.

fWhip did make Jimmy’s brooch themself, but that by no means makes fWhip a jeweller. His hands are stained with redstone, gunpower, dyes, and a few burn scars. He makes weapons, first and foremost. Making Jimmy’s brooch was… meditative. But if Jimmy likes Grimlandic jewellery, maybe fWhip should learn more about it.

Jimmy lets fWhip stand there, losing his interest even as fWhip starts inspecting a few pieces to see how they were made. They even into a discussion with the stall-holder, but Jimmy notices something, and disappears from their side.

fWhip doesn’t notice right away.

It’s when the children jumping rope behind him giggle and whoop, before the children’s rhyme starts up again, louder and more gleeful, and the vendor glances over fWhip’s shoulder and does a double take.

fWhip turns, now, and blinks. A smile stretches over his face as he sees Jimmy, robes hitched up over his knees, jumping rope perfectly in time with the kid’s chant.

Jimmy even manages to jump and spin between beats of the rope on the ground, which earns a scream of excitement from the kids around him.

“Faster!” Jimmy calls.

The kids spinning the jump rope grin, and the rest of the kids clap in time with the increased speed. fWhip folds his arms as he watches Jimmy keep up.

Even adults gather around, now, as the Codfather keeps skipping rope, and the kids keep getting faster to see how much Jimmy can manage.

Jimmy eventually loses grip on his own robes and trips on them, and fortunately he doesn’t fall over, but he does get wacked with the jump rope, which makes all the kids laugh.

“Wow!” says one holding the rope. “That was awesome, Mr Codfather!”

Jimmy bends in half, leaning on his knees, gasping for air, but he offers the kid a grin and a thumbs up.

And then fWhip sees all the kids expectantly turn and look at him.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, no.”

“C’mon, Count fWhip,” Jimmy teases breathlessly. “Not even once?”

fWhip’s wings press in close, and they get met with a chorus of pouting children.

“Please?” says the other one holding the rope. “We don’t even have to go as fast!”

fWhip rubs his temple, before he approaches, and Jimmy pulls him in.

“We could do doubles!” Jimmy says, his breathing back under control. “What do you say?”

“I say I’ll fall on you,” fWhip grumbles, but looks around at the expectant faces. “What the hell, why not? When’s the last time I jumped rope?”

Jimmy takes the time to hitch up his robes a bit more securely, before looking at fWhip expectantly.

fWhip shakes their head but smiles back, and nods.

The rope starts. They both clear the first jump. fWhip centres in on the rhythm, and ends up staring at where the rope hits the cobblestones, focussing intently.

One of the kids starts up a chant fWhip remembers from his own childhood.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn around!”

fWhip bites his lip, and it takes him about three jumps to turn on the spot, but they manage it. Jimmy copies him, grinning.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground!”

The step involves leaning down and, well, doing as the instruction says without getting hit by the rope. fWhip does it, and Jimmy copies him.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, climb up the stairs!”

fWhip raises his knees in a couple of high-step jumps. Jimmy laughs at the step and mirrors him.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, say your prayers!”

fWhip bends over, pressing their hands together in a prayer gesture, and Jimmy mimics him.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn out the light!”

fWhip mimes pulling on the cord of a redstone lamp to turn it off. Jimmy only just manages to avoid hitting the rope as it goes over their head.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear, say goodnight!”

It’s the last line of the chant, and fWhip… fWhip isn’t as young as he used to be. He can’t remember what the last action is, or if there is one, so they tilt their head to the side and put their hands under it like a pillow, miming lying down. Jimmy laughs delightedly, and copies the gesture.

The chant’s over, but the kids keep going, starting to chant their way through the alphabet in time with the rope thudding on the ground.

fWhip ends up mouthing along.

“A… B… C... D… E… F-!”

fWhip mistimes the jump, stumbles, and trips. Jimmy squawks as the rope tangles around both of them, pulled from the hands of the kids swinging it, and Jimmy tries to catch fWhip as the Count almost falls over.

They end up leaning against each other, laughing.

“Sorry!” fWhip says, looking up at Jimmy from where they’re pressed to his chest, tangled up in jump rope as they are. “Sorry, I never was any good at this.”

Jimmy just laughs fondly, and pulls them in close.

“It’s alright,” Jimmy says. “It was cute. So therefore it was worth it.”

The kids hurry to untie their leader, apologising, but fWhip also gets a hail of ‘that was so cool!’s and ‘you know that rhyme?! That’s awesome!’s

fWhip laughs as Jimmy casts his eye around.

“A drink would be nice,” he says.

“Let’s find something.”

As the skipping games pick up behind them, Jimmy leads fWhip over to a cart he spotted that’s handing out water.

--- --- ---

The day has been long and gorgeous and full of fun, but as the sun sets, fWhip’s nerves really take over.

Jimmy side-eyes them as they reach automatically for their scarf – to wring it in their hands – and realise they’re not wearing it, and stick their hands in their pockets instead. He unfolds and folds his wings instead.

“You good, love?”

“The fireworks,” fWhip says, glancing at the sky. “They’re happening a half-hour after sundown. I’m… It should be good.”

“Knowing you, it should be better than good,” Jimmy bumps their hip with his. “Worried?”

“Not for any good reason.”

“Bad ones are fun, too.”

That makes fWhip snort, and he turns to Jimmy properly.

“The Count has many roles and duties,” they say. “But… planning the fireworks is my favourite one, I think.”

Jimmy’s smile is soft, under the Codfather head.

“I know what you mean,” he says, looking around. “Sometimes, our jobs are… just, the best.”

“A high honour,” fWhip agrees. “And… Jimmy?”

Jimmy tilts his head at fWhip.

“I love you,” fWhip says.

Jimmy’s smile spreads. “I love you too,” he says, and he takes fWhip’s wrist and gently pulls until fWhip’s hand emerges from his pocket, and Jimmy takes the time to lace their fingers together. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming.”

fWhip glances around again, at the sky. The best places will already be crowded with people – some people reserve their spot for the fireworks a good hour or so in advance. He… he has a special, more private place in mind, though.

“Do you want to go find somewhere to sit?” Jimmy asks, and fWhip laughs, because Jimmy read their thoughts. “I could do with a sit-down, honestly.”

“Yeah, we can,” fWhip says, before they fidget a little.

Jimmy pauses for a second, before he snorts in amusement and stops walking, making fWhip stop too. fWhip looks up at Jimmy with wide eyes, the unshakeable feeling of being caught plotting settling on their shoulders.

“You have a plan,” Jimmy sing-songs.

fWhip can’t keep the giggle that bubbles out of him down, and he looks down, shoulders rising, wings enveloping them just a little, sheepish.

“Yeah,” fWhip says. “Just a little.”

Jimmy waits, expectantly, and when fWhip doesn’t look up right away, Jimmy steps in closer, and tilts their head up with his free hand. It knocks the breath out of fWhip, and they can only stare in wonder at Jimmy.

“Tell me,” Jimmy says.

“The roof,” fWhip blurts, before he goes red. “I was thinking I could fly us up to the roof, and we could get the best view from up there.”

Jimmy softens.

“That sounds wonderful,” he agrees.

“Only thing is, it’ll be loud,” fWhip warns, glancing up at the sky again.

And now, Jimmy laughs openly, head tipping back, before he shakes his head and shoots fWhip a look.

“fWhip,” he says dryly. “Love. We’ve both lost enough hearing from your explosions that it’s not going to matter.”

fWhip laughs back, though he goes a little redder.

“Alright, alright, fair point,” he says. “Sorry.”

Jimmy flicks his nose in vengeance, then holds his arms out expectantly towards them.

“Well?” he says. “Roof time.”

fWhip grins, and scoops Jimmy up, cradling him in their arms bridal style, and quickly double-checking they aren’t going to hit anything around them with their wings. The coast is clear, so fWhip spreads their wings and takes off.

Jimmy clings to him, arms around his neck, but leans his head against fWhip’s.

The flight is short. fWhip lets Jimmy down on the roof of fWhip’s Manor, and steadies Jimmy as the Codfather gets comfortable on the slates. fWhip settles beside him, and leans back, tucking their hands behind their head.

The stars seem even brighter up here.

When fWhip was first gifted his wings, his main form of practice was flying up and down from this roof. They liked being up here at night, admiring the constellations and pretending he knew any of them. Getting down in the dark was less fun.

In the past, he’d brought Gem up here with him, and even Sausage a couple times, and Gem had gladly told him the constellation names, and Sausage had told him the myths behind a few of them.

Jimmy doesn’t say anything. He just looks at fWhip looking at the stars, and the smile Jimmy gives them is tender.

fWhip checks their wristwatch again.

“Just a few minutes, now,” he says anxiously.

His anxiety, however, is melted away by Jimmy sitting up and carefully removing the Codfather Head. Jimmy puts it in his inventory before he turns to fWhip, and fWhip gets to have his breath stolen all over again for how Jimmy’s face is lit up in the moonlight.

“You’re beautiful.”

fWhip says it without thinking.

This time, when Jimmy smiles, fWhip can see how his eyes glitter, how the skin around them crinkles, the dimples on his cheeks, the way his too-sharp teeth glint.

“So are you.” Jimmy then takes a breath in, holds it, and lets it out, eyes closing. “Gods above, I… I can’t believe it, fWhip.”

“Can’t believe what?” fWhip asks, scooting in a little closer.

“Can’t believe we’re here,” Jimmy replies, opening his eyes again, and fWhip’s heart beats so fast in this moment, and so loud that they’d be surprised if Jimmy can’t hear it. “Can’t believe we’re at peace. Can’t believe we’re together.”

Then Jimmy’s eyes flick down to fWhip’s lips, and Jimmy’s expression sharpens into a grin.

“Can’t believe you’re going to kiss me right now,” he adds.

fWhip snorts, but gives in without complaint, shivering as Jimmy pulls fWhip in closer, and they kiss. It’s gentle and sweet, at least at first, until Jimmy makes a sound in the back of his throat that makes fWhip’s knees go weak, and he lets Jimmy pull them on top of him, and deepen the kiss.

fWhip’s eyes drift close, they cling to Jimmy’s clothes as they lose themself in it, long and slow, and when they pull apart for air, fWhip studies Jimmy’s face.

“What do you see?” Jimmy asks. His voice is so soft.

“Something worth remembering forever and ever,” fWhip replies, equally as low. He almost dips down for another kiss before-

BANG!

fWhip jumps as the firework show begins, and he scrambles off Jimmy so he can watch it too, which makes Jimmy laugh and scoot up beside them. fWhip puts a wing around Jimmy as he snuggles up close so they can block the wind.

Jimmy laces their fingers together again, squeezing once.

They watch the fireworks in the quiet, there, alone on the roof. The crowd below cheers for the bigger ones, but all of them are beautiful. Jimmy watches ones that fill the sky with glimmering jewels, ones that streak across the sky in a trail of stardust, ones that whistle and pop with the most tremendous of sparkles. Jimmy doesn’t have a favourite. The whole display is stunningly gorgeous.

Throughout it, though, Jimmy catches fWhip shooting him anxious side-eyes, trying to judge if Jimmy is enjoying himself. So, Jimmy squeezes their hand again, and lets the awe he’s feeling shine through in his voice.

“It’s beautiful, fWhip,” he says earnestly. “You’ve done a splendid job.”

fWhip absolutely lights up under Jimmy’s words, and they finally relax, curling up to Jimmy to watch their hard work come to fruition.

“Here’s to Progress,” he mumbles.

“Here’s to life,” Jimmy agrees, before he rests his head against fWhip’s again. He couldn’t have imagined a better day spent here, with fWhip, if he tried. “Here’s to us. To you. I love you, fWhip.”

fWhip looks away from the fireworks to look at a far prettier sight, and smiles up at Jimmy.

“I love you too, Jimmy,” they say.

And so they curl up here, content and together, and for once, fully at peace.

#djpurple3's writing yo #empires smp #empires s1 #fwhimmy #empires fic #food mention #codfather jimmy #count fwhip #esmp #empiresshipping

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the-dark-abyss · 6 months

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Martyn is getting reckless. It's probably going to kill him.

But he's already won, so what's the point? Hell, even the win felt like a loss. Even as he raised his arm in victory, he could feel the space next to him, the hole that should've been filled with Ren but instead was left painfully empty. And he can't help but wonder if it was a coincidence that the game he won was the game without Ren.

The first game. Because he isn't in this one, either. Martyn should feel sad, or angry, or the desire to punch something.

He doesn't know how to feel.

Detached. That's a good word. Like he's drifting, a ship without an anchor. His Soulmate left him two games ago, and his previous ally is off in the cherry blossoms doing gods-know-what.

Nobody else in these games could possibly replace Ren. But he can't help but compare everyone he interacts with to him. Knowing that no one will reach the level of loyalty the two of them had in the winter oh so long ago doesn't help in the slightest.

He goes through the motions, as usual; four corners, early Nether visit, run around the server aimlessly until he finds someone or somewhere that catches his eye.

He'll probably base alone. Not fully alone, since voices of the others carry on the wind. They'll be there, at least for a little while.

The reminder of how the end of the last game felt weighs heavy on his mind; nothing, not even the birds or wind, to keep him company. No one to hold his body as he decayed into the ocean. No one to remember him but the ghosts of the past.

Martyn doesn't think he'll try to win this time. He doesn't want to feel pain like that again.

He won't die first, but he'll probably die alone.

How poetic.

#Secret Life has me in a chokehold #trafficblr #life series #abyss writes #writing #martyn inthelittlewood #slsmp #secret life #secret life smp #fanfic

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shittyness · 5 months

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I’ve got a new theory!!

It’s been a minute since I wrote one so it’s probably not my best work lol

Anyway! This one’s about Martyn! I don’t think I’ve made one for him yet actually

Spoilers under the cut

So as Martyn had confirmed under Ryan’s post, he isn’t a listener

And he isn’t a Watcher

I think he’s still a player, but one the listeners protected, and the watchers wanted to take

I think that’s why he has heard messages from the watchers in the past

They want to make him one of them, but because he’s under the listeners protection from back in Evo they can’t

So they still use him, but at the same time they try to temp him to join them by showing him all the power he can have.

Martyn has a strong will and is able to fight off the temptation, but he still is curious on the Watchers goals, motives, and reasonings behind their actions

I think at some point he had tried to ask Grian, or any of the other former Evo members, but the watchers had taken their memories (or in Grian’s case it might’ve been too painful to retell it)

So if Martyn is suspended in this in between of the watchers and the listeners, what does that mean? To me it means that he has these two opposing parties fighting for him to side with them the listeners wanting him to remain a player, and the watchers wanting him to join their ranks. Both parties keep trying to either make the other side look bad, like the listeners did in Evo, making promises to Martyn without any evidence that they’ll keep them, or by gifting him power for him to chance after, like I believe the watchers did in limited life (think a child of divorced parents, where both are trying to get the kid to decide to live with them full time)

Another point I’d like to make it, while I know the life series isn’t scripted, in lore I think it makes sense if the watchers choose who will win the season.

My explanations:

3rd Life: Grian won. Grian is also a former watcher, and as Martyn’s last life lore (specifically the ‘he was only ever meant to watch’ line) proves, the watchers don’t like that he’s a player again. So the watchers chose for him to win to once again win his favor and remind him of the power they wield. But Grian saw right through their schemes, and him jumping off the cliff on monopoly mountain was kind of his way of telling them he doesn’t need their power to be happy, and in a way that he’s better then them. Obviously they didn’t like that and so they cursed him to always be a part of his closest allies demise. I think their anger was most apparent in limited life, for example, out of the 3 people who had to miss a session, Grian was the only one without a fill in. Grian was also the first one to loose his main alliance

Last life: Scott won. Before I start this one, I will admit I don’t know as much about this season, especially Scott’s character, and I don’t currently have the time to watch all his episodes. Anyway Scott and the Watchers like mutually dislike each other. (I believe Martyn said this once) and I’m pretty sure this started in last life with Scott being the boogie man. So I think the watchers had Scott win despite their hatred to try and force him back into line. I think they wanted him to fear them and wanted him to see the extent of their abilities and control. I think they wanted him to see the truth so that he would worship them. But obviously we know that didn’t work either

Double Life: Pearl won. Pearl won because she was the most interesting for the watchers to watch, and she had the most negative emotions throughout the season. Her story was one of overcoming these tragedies while also dealing with her decent into madness. She lost her soulmate because she chose to go to the nether to try and benefit them over finding Scott. Then after Scott and Cleo left Pearl and Martyn and Pearl was already heartbroken, Martyn left her as well. Then throughout the season she becomes an omen of death and destruction. As she became more and more insane, she also grew more and more upset. Eventually she did end up teaming with Scott, Cleo, and Martyn. But by then the damage was already done. Finally when she did win, she was surrounded by grief. She had lost her soulmate again, she had also just watched Scott sacrifice himself for her to win the game, and she had killed her only other surviving friend throughout the entire game. She had the most negative emotions, and the most interesting story to watch.

Limited life: Martyn won. He won for all the reasons I said before. The watchers wanted to show their power, and get him to join them. They made him win by giving him that dose of power and bloodlust to kill Impulse and Scott. They had that control over him.

Anyway, that’s the end of my rants for now! If anyone read this I hope you found it interesting and I hope it makes sense lmao

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months

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Endure X: Jealousy

Series Synopsis: You and Eren Jaeger have been best friends since the age of two, but the two of you are destined for an inevitable tragedy. The world you have been born into is cruel; it is one where friends are traitors and enemies are allies, one where you find yourself doubting everything you've ever known. In this life, mistakes are fatal, and you must be careful, lest you make one too many.

Chapter Synopsis: As you progress in your training, you find yourself beginning to fall for someone. Eren is jealous, and Tullia, Mikasa, and Sasha are forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader, Armin Arlert x Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, sexual abuse (non-explicit), major character death, angst, original characters included

“Wanna spar?” You had been exchanging intense eye contact with Tullia, trying to convince her to be your sparring partner, since you were not particularly looking forward to having to fight people. You knew that with her, you could easily slack off. Because of this, you had not seen Reiner Braun approaching you until he tapped your shoulder and asked to spar with you.

“Oh, Reiner! Um, well, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to be rude. You gave Tullia an apologetic look, but she just shrugged and went to find Jean, who also did not have a partner yet. He seemed surprised that she had asked him, but, with a side look at you, accepted.

Ever since that day in the bathroom, you and him had been friends of a sort. Neither of you would ever willingly sit with the other at lunch or anything, but there was a kind of mutual respect that had formed between you. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Are you any good at hand-to-hand combat?” Reiner said, giving you the wooden knife and getting into position. You laughed and shook your head.

“No, I’ve never really had the chance to learn or anything. So no need to go all out against me,” you said, pointing the wooden knife at him mock-threateningly. He put his hands up innocently.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you charge first, too. Just to be more fair, yeah?” he said. You gave him a small smile.

“Very sweet of you, Reiner, thanks,” you said, preparing to charge at him. He gave you a grin and ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I’m a real — oof!” he cut off as you rammed into his stomach, knocking him to the ground. You gave him a wide-eyed look.

“I can’t believe that worked!” you said, reaching out your hand to help him up. He took your hand, but instead of using it to stand, yanked your into the dirt beside him before rolling over and pinning you.

“Never expect a fight to be over just because your opponent’s on the ground,” he instructed, sitting with his knees on either side of your waist and using one hand to hold both of your wrists together above your head. With his other hand, he plucked the wooden knife from your grasp and pressed it against your throat. You tried to escape his grip, thrashing as hard as you could, but it was futile. He had caught you, and you were helpless. Struggling just made him clamp down harder, so with a defeated sigh, you went limp.

“Fine, you win,” you said, closing your eyes and waiting for him to get off. When he didn’t, you opened your eyes to glare at him. He only smirked.

“Come on, you can’t give up that easily! Fight back!” he encouraged you.

“Tried that already. Did not work,” you informed him. He leaned down until the tips of your noses were almost brushing.

“Try harder,” he whispered, digging the edge of the blade into the delicate skin of your neck.

“Reiner, please get off. I cannot, physically cannot, fight back. Isn’t it smart to know when to accept your losses?” you said, looking into his wolfish amber eyes, filled with some unidentifiable emotion. He shrugged from atop you.

“Maybe, but I’ve never been one to know when I’ve lost. I just keep pushing forwards until the day that I can say, without a doubt, that I’ve won,” he said.

“Well, you’ve won, so you don’t need to keep pushing forwards,” you said, trying to squirm out of his hold. He did not budge.

“Is that really all you’ve got?” he said.

“Yes? I’ve been telling you that for the past five minutes,” you said, rolling your eyes. Somehow, he leaned in even farther, until he was so close that if either of you shifted even a little, your lips would brush. It was dangerous. It was wrong. It sent a thrill through you, a rush of heat, a shiver of anticipation.

“You’ve got more. I know you do,” he said.

“Yeah?” you said breathily, feeling dizzy from his proximity to you. Before he could respond, he was thrown off of you. Mikasa looked like some sort of avenging angel, her eyes dark with rage and a fierce scowl on her kind features. You could not help the disappointment coursing through your veins, though you did not know why you would be disappointed. You had wanted Reiner off of you, hadn’t you?

“Sorry I wasn’t faster, Y/N. I got distracted,” she said, helping you stand and brushing you off before checking you over for injuries.

“It’s alright, Mikasa, I was fine,” you said.

“Really?” she said dubiously.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Reiner was just teaching me about combat,” you said. She raised one perfect eyebrow.

“Is that so? Please, do tell me what teaching he was accomplishing by trying to kiss you,” she said.

“He was not doing anything of the sort! He was just telling me I should keep fighting and stuff. You know, basic encouragement,” you said, your face burning as you avoided Reiner’s gaze.

“Basic encouragement. Well, pinning your opponent to the ground and then proceeding to nearly kiss them isn’t a method I’ve ever heard of, but whatever works, I guess,” she said with a derisive snort.

“Stop, Mikasa, you’re being embarrassing,” you said, going over to pull Reiner to his feet. This time, he took your hand without ulterior motives, merely getting up beside you. Mikasa shot him a nasty glare, and he immediately let go. You found yourself wishing he had kept holding it.

“Mikasa! There you are! I was wondering where you went!” Sasha said, appearing and skidding to a stop beside the taller girl, whose face softened as she blushed.

“Hey, Sasha. Just had to deal with some issues,” Mikasa said, giving you and Reiner one last glance. Sasha noticed you and waved brightly, unaware of the tension between the three of you at the current moment.

“Y/N! Reiner! How are you guys?” she said.

“Doing good, Sasha. What about you?” you said.

“Spending time with Mikasa, so overall I can’t complain! Mika’s my new best friend, aren’t you?” she said, throwing her arm around Mikasa, who cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

“Yes. We are best friends,” she said. Sasha beamed.

“Aww, Mikasa, I thought we were best friends,” you said with a frown.

“I can have multiple. Now, I’ll leave you two to it, but Reiner, if I see you continuing to bother her, I’m going to beat you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead. But I won’t grant you that mercy. Instead, I’ll give you just enough time to heal before repeating the process, so that you are stuck in a constant limbo of agony and suffering until the end of your days. Don’t try and think about going unconscious, either. I’ll bring smelling salts with me,” Mikasa said.

“Noted,” Reiner squeaked out. You patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Reiner, I won’t let her do that,” you said.

“Promise?” he said. It was strange to see the older boy so scared, but such was the effect Mikasa had on people. Ever since that day, so long ago, when she had killed the final kidnapper, something in her had snapped. She was no shy wallflower. She was quiet, true, but deadly, an ambush predator, as much a tiger as the stuffed animal she still kept with her.

“As long as you don’t actually bother me, yeah. But I, uh, didn’t mind earlier,” you said, biting your lip nervously. Reiner let out a low chuckle.

“Is that so?” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. He twirled the knife in his hand in a move dripping with casual arrogance and grace.

“Well,” he said, stalking towards you with a feral grin, “All you had to do was say something.”

As you and Reiner continued to spar, mostly ending up with you under him and him reprimanding you for something or another, you became aware of the prickling, uncomfortable sensation of a pair of eyes watching you.

Reiner began to lecture you about distractions, and ironically, as he did so, you became distracted, trying to find who was staring at you. It was not Mikasa, surprisingly. She was watching Sasha explain something. Tullia and Jean were busy “sparring,” although it mostly looked like shy, awkward flirting to you.

“Wow, Eren, you’re good at this!” Marco said as he was tossed into the ground. Despite the rough way Eren had literally just thrown him, he was still positive, springing to his feet to congratulate his partner, who was not even looking at him.

Your eyes met Eren’s, and you were surprised at the sharp rage in them as he glared at you. It was like he was cutting into you with his gaze. The contrast between this and the soft way he had looked at you on that roof in Trost was immense. You wondered what you had done wrong, but before you could think to ask, Reiner gently grabbed your jaw and turned your head to look back at him.

“Hey, I was just telling you not to be distracted, silly. Focus on me,” he said. That strange feeling in your stomach formed again, and you nodded submissively.

“Right, sorry,” you said, though you could not help but sneak one last glance at Eren. He noticed and scowled before turning away. You frowned in confusion and hurt before returning to Reiner, who had given you the knife again and was readying himself for you to charge at him.

“He didn’t bother you the rest of training, right?” Mikasa said, immediately swooping upon you as soon as sparring was over.

“He was fine. Hey, Eren, you good? You looked pretty mad earlier,” you said as you and Mikasa walked over to where he was putting away his knife. He gave you a tight smile.

“Perfectly okay. Are you guys ready for lunch?” he said, grabbing your hand and holding it in a near death-grip. You gave him a startled look at the display before brushing it off. If holding your hand made him feel better, well, you were hardly going to stop him.

“I am!” Sasha said.

“Where do you keep coming from?” you said. This was the second time she had seemingly manifested from thin air. She gave you a bright smile and wink.

“I’ve been here the whole time! Mikasa is so tall you can’t see me behind her,” she explained. You looked at Mikasa, who was, indeed, tall, and decided Sasha was probably right.

“That makes sense. Hey, speaking of Mikasa, we should have a girls’ night! The two of you, Tullia, and I. It would be so fun!” you said.

“Can I come?” Eren said.

“Eren, normally a girls’ night means only girls are attending,” Mikasa reminded him.

“You can have a boys’ night with Armin, Reiner, and Bertholdt,” you suggested. Eren thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, maybe, I guess,” he said, “But you guys will probably have more fun.”

“True!” Sasha chirped, “Guess you were born the wrong gender!”

“Better luck next time,” you said, patting him on the head with your free hand. He pouted but did not argue, perhaps knowing there was no point. You and Mikasa used to have frequent girls’ nights back in Shiganshina, sometimes even in his own house. He hadn’t been allowed to attend then, and he certainly wouldn’t be allowed now.

Though the Mess Hall was as packed as usual, everyone mostly stuck to their tables, which meant your usual seats were free. You sat as you normally did: Eren at the end of the table, you on his left, Mikasa across from you, Armin across from Eren, and...well, Tullia was normally in between Mikasa and Armin, but as of right now, she was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Tullia?” Armin said, reading your mind.

“I think she took my seat!” Sasha said, pointing over at where Tullia sat next to Connie and across from Jean.

“You can take hers, Sasha, no big deal,” Eren said.

“Great, thanks guys!” Sasha said, squeezing in between Mikasa and Armin.

“Whose turn is it to get lunches today?” Mikasa said. You had a system where two of you would get meals for the rest of the table, with a whole schedule set up to ensure that it was fair and everyone had equal turns in the rotation. You did it in such a way in order to cut down on the length of the lines where the food was distributed.

“It was supposed to be Tullia and Eren, but since Tullia isn’t here...Sasha can go or someone can volunteer to take her shift,” Armin said, pulling out the piece of paper that had the master schedule on it.

“I’ll go,” you immediately said. If Sasha went, there was a good chance she’d end up eating everyone else’s lunches on the way back to the table.

“Sounds good. Make sure to get me the soup without carrots, please,” Mikasa said.

“Of course. Can’t have you getting an allergic reaction,” you said with a nod. Mikasa had discovered she was deathly allergic to carrots early on in your training, and ever since then, the cooks had made sure to make two variants of each dish: one with carrots and one without.

“I saw you beating up Marco during sparring. He’s a nice guy, you know. No need to go that hard!” you said with a laugh as you got into line with Eren. He gave you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I just get carried away a little sometimes,” he said. You smiled and flicked him on the forehead.

“I know. I’ve seen some of the bruises you gave to poor Oskar,” you said, remembering your days back in Shiganshina and how Eren had mercilessly beaten the rude boy.

“Okay, but he deserved it. You’ve gotta admit to that much, at least,” he said, grabbing a couple of trays and beginning to load the bowls of soup onto them. You did the same with a nod.

“Agreed, but we’re not in Shiganshina anymore. You don’t need to hurt anybody. We’re all friends here,” you said.

“I know, I know,” he said.

“Speaking of friends...Reiner!” you said as you passed by where the blond boy was sitting with Bertholdt. He immediately straightened when he saw you, giving you a wide grin.

“Y/N! Long time no see, huh?” he said. You giggled shyly.

“It’s been a bit,” you said.

“And how have you been in the ten minutes since we saw each other last?” he said.

“Prettyyy good,” you said, drawing out the last syllables of each word and batting your eyelashes at him. If possible, his grin grew bigger, and a light blush formed on his cheeks.

“Good to hear. Say, I was wondering if you —”

“Come on, Y/N. The soup’s getting cold,” Eren interjected, glaring at Reiner, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. You were similarly surprised. On the whole, Eren quite liked Reiner, so to see him being rude to the older boy was out of character indeed.

“Yeah, I guess it is. See you later, Reiner!” you said before turning to Eren as soon as you were out of Reiner and Bertholdt’s earshot, “That was silly of you.”

“What was?” he said, giving you a faux-innocent look. You nudged him in the side with your elbow, since both of your hands were full with food for your friends.

“Being snippy with Reiner,” you said.

“I wasn’t being snippy with him. I was just reminding you that we have friends that need their soup,” he said. You shook your head in amusement at his obvious denial.

“Whatever, Eren. You know you’re still my best friend, right? I’m not replacing you with Reiner or anything,” you said. He smiled at this.

“Yeah, I know,” he said as you sat down, passing out food to everyone.

Despite the fact that he claimed he knew that you were best friends above all else, Eren was still overwhelmingly clingy the entire rest of lunch. If his hand was free, it was holding yours. As soon as he was finished inhaling his food, his head was resting on your shoulder, soft hair tickling against your neck as you ate.

“What’s gotten into you?” you said as he began to doze off.

“I’m tired and you're comfortable,” he said.

“Alright, then,” you said dubiously. If you had been a little more observant, you would’ve seen the way the Reiner’s eyes widened upon noticing you, or the smirk Eren flashed towards him at this development, but you were too focused on the story Sasha was regaling you all with to care.

After lunch, you were going to start with the most exciting part of military training, in your opinion at least: horse riding. You would be assigned your horses and, if you became Scouts, would get to keep them for the entirety of your career. If not, they would be sent to the Scouts without you as backups in case something went wrong on an expedition (and it almost always did).

“Do you think we’ll get to name them?” Connie said as you walked towards the stables.

“I hope so! I already have an awesome name picked out!” Tullia said.

“What?” Jean said.

“Jean,” she said seriously. You snickered, both at the name and at the horrified look on the boy’s face.

“You wouldn’t,” Jean said.

“I might,” she said.

“Cheer up, Jean. This is a good thing! She’s saying she likes you so much she wants to name her horse after you!” Marco said halfheartedly, though he was not fooling anyone.

“Don’t worry, Jean, I think that horseface of yours is very handsome,” Tullia said before immediately turning bright red, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening at her audacity. Jean had a similar reaction, though you had a feeling that it was because he did not know how to react to compliments, especially not compliments from the girl he had a crush on.

“CADETS!” Commandant Shadis bellowed. You all paused your banter to salute at him. He nodded at you in approval before turning to his assistant, the woman that had been your examiner during the aptitude testing.

“We will be assigning everyone their horses today! Then you will partner up and help each other adjust to riding,” she said.

Though most of the horses were a plain yet rich chocolate brown color, you and Krista both got white ones, and Tullia got a chestnut. Eren’s horse was a very dark brown, nearly black but not quite, and Armin’s had a wide white blaze on her face.

“Buchwald! I’m naming you Buchwald!” Jean said in delight, patting his horse on the neck. The horse did not seem to mind this name, perhaps recognizing Jean as one of his own species. You would not be surprised.

“Juan,” Tullia decided, smirking and kissing her fiery-colored horse on the muzzle. Jean made a noise that was between a gasp and a shriek of offense at the name, but Tullia raised an eyebrow at him, quieting him immediately.

“What do you think of Tyrant?” Eren asked you.

“That’s a really cool name. I’m naming mine Mage,” you said, stroking the white horse on the face. She began to chew on your hair in content, and you halfheartedly tried to push her away.

“Do you want to be my partner, Y/N?” Reiner said, coming up beside you, holding his horse’s reins in one hand and giving you an expectant look.

“No, we’re going to be partners, right?” Eren said emphatically.

“Uh —”

“She can answer for herself,” Reiner said, cutting you off smoothly.

“She’s my partner already,” Eren said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I’m, uh, going to go be with Connie,” you said, leading Mage after you in search of the boy with the close-cropped hair. Though you two were not close, you always enjoyed hanging out with him. His energy and humor were delightful, and it would be a nice break from the drama of Eren and Reiner.

Thankfully, he had not partnered up with anyone yet, and he was more than delighted to pair up with his “wife.” You gave him a leg up before using a tree stump to swing into Mage’s saddle. It was a strange sensation at first, but once you adjusted, you found you rather liked it.

“Yo! Mrs. Springer!” Connie said, halting beside you once you had settled in the saddle.

“Yes, Mr. Springer?” you said. He gave you a wide grin.

“Let’s race!” he said, taking off before you even had the chance to respond. You watched him go in awe.

“So much for being partners with Connie,” you muttered as he vanished into the distance.

“Did he ditch you?” Armin said, a soft, fond smile on his face as took Connie’s spot next to you.

“Yup. Asked me if I wanted to race and then left before I could even respond,” you said with a laugh, “No clue where he is. He could be all the way in Karanes District at this point, honestly.”

“I can be your new partner, if you want,” he suggested.

“Sounds good. No racing?” you said.

“No racing,” he agreed.

You and Armin walked around the perimeter of the field you were practicing in, allowing your horses to stretch their necks down as you talked about random things. You took the time to observe how everyone else was doing.

Connie had returned and was now involving poor Marco in his schemes, galloping around wildly as the freckled boy chased after him. Mikasa and Sasha had had a similar idea to you and Armin, relaxing on horseback as they chatted. Tullia was either making fun of or complimenting Jean, judging by how red his face and ears were. Eren and Reiner were glaring at each other.

“What’s up with those two?” you said, pointing at them. If anybody had a chance of knowing, it was quiet, observant Armin who shared a dorm with them and knew Eren better than anyone, bar you.

“Jealousy, I think,” he said.

“Really? But they’re so close, almost like siblings. You think jealousy could cause them to fight?” you said. Armin shrugged.

“Well, you forget that siblings often fight as it is. And yes, for what it’s worth, I do think jealousy could motivate them to be angry at each other. It’s a strong emotion, and if my hunch is right, they have a valid reason to fight. They’re upset because they both want the same thing, and it’s a pretty damn great thing,” he said.

“What is it?” you said. Armin gave you a secretive smile.

“I can’t tell you that. I’m sure one day, you’ll find out.”

You had not had a girls’ night in a while, so when Mikasa and Sasha entered you and Tullia’s room, wearing their pajamas and with hairbrushes in hand, you felt excitement creeping over you. You had missed this, missed the way it felt to just be with your friends and relax and not have to worry about jealousy or fighting or anything dumb like that.

“I can’t braid your hair anymore, Mikasa,” you said with a frown as you combed your fingers through her short, silky hair.

“Sorry, Y/N,” she said, and you could tell she was genuinely sad.

“You can braid mine!” Sasha volunteered.

“Thanks, Sash!” you said, “Okay, sit in between my legs and turn around.”

“Ooh, I’ll do yours!” Tullia said.

“Yeah, and I can do yours, Tullia, since nobody can do mine,” Mikasa offered.

“YES!” Sasha cheered as you got into position for the braiding train. For a while, you all were silent, focused on your tasks completely, until Tullia broke the silence.

“We should play Truth or Dare,” she said. You took a hair tie and tied off one of the fishtail braids you had done on Sasha before starting the other.

“Sounds fun,” Mikasa said, “Who wants to go first?”

“It was Tullia’s idea,” you said. The girl was currently making some elaborate braided chignon out of your hair, leaving a few delicate pieces out to frame your face.

“Excellent,” Tullia said, and you could almost feel the vicious smirk on her face, “You’ve fallen right into my trap. Y/N, truth or dare?”

“I have a bad feeling about this. Truth,” you said.

“Aww, boo. Okay, do you have a crush on someone?” she said.

“That was lame!” Sasha said.

“Yeah, nothing more creative than that? Petra would be disappointed,” you said.

“Answer the question,” she snapped, pulling on your hair a little too harshly. You yelped.

“Fine! Uh, Reiner’s kind of nice, I guess,” you said. Everyone was silent for a second before they all, in unison, screamed at you.

“REINER?”

“Sina, deafen me, why don’t you? Yes, Reiner. Reiner Braun,” you said, covering your ears, though it was a bit too late for that.

“She’s still in denial, then. I thought after everything that happened after the fall of Wall Maria, she’d figure it out, but here we are,” Mikasa said.

“I almost feel bad. I mean, this is embarrassing on her part!” Sasha said.

“She’s projecting onto Reiner at the moment, but we all know what’s going to end up happening,” Tullia assured everyone.

“Huh? What are you guys talking about?” you said.

“Just how it’s so obvious you and Eren have something going on, you’re just too blind to realize it,” Sasha said casually.

“What? That’s not true! Mikasa, tell her it’s not true!” you said indignantly.

“Oh, it’s so true. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. You’re best friends with Armin and I. You’re something more than that with Eren, and no, I do not mean mega best friends,” Mikasa said, like the traitor she was. You scowled, though you could not move lest you mess up Tullia’s hard work.

“Y/N, tell me, honestly. That day on the roof...did nothing happen between you two? If not, then we’ll believe you when you say that you and him are just friends. If so, well, there’s your answer,” Tullia said. They all waited expectantly as you cast about for something to say.

The rooftop. You wondered what could’ve happened if the MP hadn’t interrupted you. You had been caught in some kind of daze, drunk on Eren’s presence, on the way he looked at you. You didn’t know if you would’ve been able to stop yourself if you had shifted only another few inches closer.

It had been different than it had with Reiner earlier today. Reiner had been just as close if not closer to you than Eren had been that day, but while kissing Reiner would have been a choice, kissing Eren felt like a compulsion. Eren was magnetic, drawing you in ever closer, like it was some law of nature that you ought to be together.

And this scared you. Eren was your best friend. What kind of monster were you? What kind of person fell in love with their best friend? Was this even love, or was it something else? It felt like love. It looked like love. It must be love, but you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how it could’ve happened. When had you fallen in love with him? Or had you never fallen in love with him at all? Because this was the truth of the matter: you had been born in love. Loving him was as easy as if you had done it before, like it was some deep-rooted instinct of yours — love Eren Jaeger.

“No. Like he said, we just talked. Nothing happened between us. Nothing at all.”

Whether or not your friends believed you, they did not bring it up again. You all continued to play the game, laughing increasingly harder at the wild things you dared each other to do. Mikasa confessed her crush on Sasha, Tullia somehow managed to sneak into the boys’ barracks and draw a moustache on Bertholdt without getting caught, and you wrote an anonymous love note to the Commandant.

Finally, you all fell asleep. Mikasa and Sasha cuddled together on the bottom bunk, and you and Tullia took the top, a pillow in between you to ensure you didn’t kick each other or anything in your sleep. Your stomach hurt from laughing, and though you were exhausted, you could not sleep.

“You’re still up,” Tullia said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, wondering why she had said anything.

“I know you were lying earlier,” she said, “I’ve known you long enough to know what your tells are. Your ears turn red when you lie.”

“And they were red?”

“As red as Juan’s coat.”

You rolled over to face the wall, signifying the end of your conversation, though Tullia did not take the hint. You covered your head with your pillow to muffle her words, but it wasn’t enough, because it was no longer just her speaking but your own subconscious as well.

“You can pretend and lie all you want, but in the end, it’s only going to hurt you more. If you lose him without telling him how you really feel, it’s going to kill you inside. And what if he moves on? What if he finds another girl?”

At your silence, she scoffed. You heard the sheets rustle as she turned over, though she managed to get one final thing in before you both drifted off.

“If you really like Reiner, I’ll support you, but I think you need to reflect on which one makes you truly, genuinely happy, because that’s what you deserve and nothing less. Don’t worry about hurting anybody’s feelings — that’s inevitable. Just...make the right choice, okay?”

“Thanks, Tullia,” you said quietly, “I’ll try.”

But you did not try. As your training went on, you avoided the question completely, choosing to remain just friends with both boys and ignoring the heartache you felt when you looked at Eren, because who were you to jeopardize everything you had? So you pined for him from afar, found relief in soft brushes of hands and friendly hugs and legs pressed against one another in the Mess Hall.

As Tullia had warned you, one day you would come to regret this decision. And you were no stranger to regret, but this time hurt the most of all, because it was regret and guilt and grief all wrapped into one horrible, terrible stab in the heart.

taglist (send an ask or dm to be added): @futuristicxie

#eren x reader #armin x reader #eren x you #armin x you #eren x y/n #armin x y/n #reader insert #canon au #endure #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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mariacallous · 7 months

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WARSAW, Poland (AP) — Polish opposition leader Donald Tusk declared the beginning of a new era for his country after opposition parties appeared to have won enough votes in Sunday’s election to oust the ruling populist party.

That party, Law and Justice, has bickered with allies and faced accusations of eroding rule of law at home in its eight years in power. It appeared that voters were mobilized like never before, voting in even greater numbers than when the nation ousted the communist authorities in 1989.

If the result predicted by an exit poll holds, Law and Justice won but also lost. It got more seats than any other party but not enough to build a government and pass laws in the legislature.

The Ipsos exit poll suggested that Law and Justice obtained 200 seats. The far-right Confederation got 12 seats, a showing the party said was a defeat.

It also showed that three opposition parties have likely won a combined 248 seats in the 460-seat lower house of parliament, the Sejm. The largest of the groups is Civic Coalition, led by Tusk, a former prime minister.

“I have been a politician for many years. I’m an athlete. Never in my life have I been so happy about taking seemingly second place. Poland won. Democracy has won. We have removed them from power,” Tusk told his cheering supporters.

“This result might still be better, but already today we can say this is the end of the bad time, this is end of Law and Justice rule,” Tusk added.

Law and Justice leader Jaroslaw Kaczynski acknowledged that the outcome was uncertain for his party. He told supporters at his headquarters that his party’s result, at nearly 37% of the vote, according to the exit poll, was a success, making it the party to win the most votes for three parliamentary elections in a row. But he also acknowledged it might not be able to keep power.

“We must have hope and we must also know that regardless of whether we are in power or in the opposition, we will implement this (political) project in various ways and we will not allow Poland to be betrayed,” Kaczynski said.

If the result holds, and Law and Justice is the single party with the most seats, then it would get the first chance to try to build a government.

It falls to President Andrzej Duda, who is an ally of Law and Justice, to tap a party to try to form a government.

Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki said on Polsat News that Duda “will entrust the mission of forming the government to the winning party and in this first step we will certainly try to build a parliamentary majority.”

Three opposition parties, Tusk’s Civic Coalition, Third Way and the New Left, ran on separate tickets but with the same promises of seeking to oust Law and Justice and restore good ties with the European Union.

Wlodzimierz Czarzasty, a leader of the Left party, vowed to work with the others to “create a democratic, strong, reasonable and predictable government.”

Katarzyna Pelczynska-Nalecz, the head of election campaign for Third Way, called it a “huge day for our democracy.”

“There is a lot of work to do for all of us, and it’s going to be a huge challenge,” she said, adding: “we are very satisfied and full of hope that things will be much better in Poland in the days, months and years to come.”

Votes were still being counted and the state electoral commission says it expects to have final results by Tuesday morning.

At stake are the health of the nation’s constitutional order, its legal stance on LGBTQ+ rights and abortion, and the foreign alliances of a country that has been a crucial ally to Ukraine after Russia launched its full-scale invasion.

Law and Justice has eroded checks and balances to gain more control over state institutions, including the courts, public media and the electoral process itself.

During the campaign many Poles described the vote as the most important one since 1989, when a new democracy was born after decades of communism.

Turnout Sunday appeared to be even higher than the 63% of those who voted in 1989 to oust the communists.

“It seems that we have broken a record,” said Sylwester Marciniak, the head of the state electoral commission.

Despite many uncertainties ahead, what appeared certain was that support for the ruling party has shrunk since the last election in 2019 when it won nearly 44% of the vote, its popularity dented by high inflation, allegations of cronyism and bickering with European allies.

If the result holds, it marks a sharp defeat for a ruling party that adopted divisive policies at home, often pushing laws through without trying to build consensus.

Others saw economic threats in the way the party has governed and believe that high social spending has helped to fuel inflation.

There is also a high level of state ownership in the Polish economy, and the governing party has built up a system of patronage, handing out thousands of jobs and contracts to its loyalists.

A political change could open the way for the EU to release billions of euros in funding that has been withheld over what the EU viewed as democratic erosion.

The fate of Poland’s relationship with Ukraine was also at stake. The Confederation party campaigned on an anti-Ukraine message, accusing the country of lacking gratitude to Poland for its help in Russia’s war. Its poor showing will be a relief for Kyiv.

Around 29 million Poles from age 18 were eligible to vote. They chose 460 members of the lower house, or Sejm, and 100 for the Senate for four-year terms.

A referendum on migration, the retirement age and other issues was held simultaneously. Some government opponents called on voters to boycott the referendum.

More than 31,000 voting stations operated across Poland, while there were more than 400 voting stations abroad. In a sign of the emotions generated by the vote, more than 600,000 Poles registered to vote abroad.

Individual parties need to get at least 5% of votes to win seats in parliament, while coalitions need at least 8% of votes.

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desolationcleo · 2 months

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AITA for losing it and killing the other two remaining players in this death game right after we'd been discussing a more honorable deathmatch?

I (??M) am trapped in a death game timeloop. I've survived to near the end several times before but never won one. In this latest one, after days of people killing each other and constantly fighting, I was among the last three players standing, alongside the guy (??M) who's been my closest ally since the start and this other dude (??M) from a different faction.

(The question marks for age are because I don't know how much time passes between these BTW)

For some info on the game and these two guys, our lives are on timers. We die when they run out and we can gain time by killing each other. My teammate lives with me and has willingly given me days of his lifespan before. He's also won one of these games in a previous iteration. The other was on like half a day left and we let him get a kill to put us on even time.

There was talk of a three-way fair play final deathmatch in which we would take off our armor and use just fists, like the final fight in a previous game (which was also between two inseparable teammates). This would mark the second time it's ended in everyone agreeing to a battle royale.

While we were discussing this, I felt this kinda surge of rage? Something like that? And I can't tell if it was the usual red life bloodlust or something else entirely. The others were taking off their armor and I was like I'm done with this, formalities or none we are dying anyways and it kind of took over me and I went a little off the deep end and threw everything we'd been discussing out the window and just slaughtered them with a sword right then and there while still wearing armor. I went for my teammate first and emphasized that it doesn't matter what team you're on I will kill Everyone so it would be clear this was nothing personal. My teammate didn't even try to fight back or run when I attacked him and I'm fairly certain the other guy just ran, most of it was a blur. I won the game.

I won't lie, it felt really good winning. I'm talking laughing-like-a-maniac-covered-in-blood enjoyment of my victory. That being said, I did still betray my closest ally. Now, obviously I can't ask him what he thinks of this, because I killed him, but all three of us were going to die no matter what and taking the time to battle royale beat each other to death had a very good chance of one of us killing the other anyways, it would have just taken longer to die, so I don't feel bad about it. Plus, he's already won once.

AITA?

Edit: My teammate's always been the type to choose dying over killing, I hear he sacrificed himself last game to give the win to the player he was partnered with.

Edit: I've been singled out by these entities that are behind this curse that's been a feature in two of these games and quite likely other things going on here as well. They've made contact with me in my mind and wanted me to win, have tried to get me to kill my allies before, and really hate my teammate, however I don't have any real evidence that they made me go off the rails here.

#trafficaita #fun fact i initially made this after the liml finale #and there was a fake ''comments section'' that was mostly NAH (but with one NTA that was very clearly from a watcher)#as an elaborate way of saying Martyn Did Nothing Wrong #but i never finished that part #then i found out about trafficaita and decided to repurpose it

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wordswhisperinthedark · 10 months

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WAIT.

(stuff from Link Click S2'S first 2 eps mentioned below the cut!)

Aren't this season's op and ed also kind of like warning us to not believe everything we're seeing? Especially if the current theory going around that not everyone is from the same time line holds true?

We start with s1's intro about the rules of their jumps, and Lu Guang's warning to not meddle with the past, or worry about the future. Which then gives us a quick run of the first season's events, focusing on the final overarching plot line — a plot that occurs because CXS wanted to change Emma's fate.

Yet now we've learned that LG hasn't actually died, but Liu Min, and we're given this small comfort the trio are all together, they're ok, they're going to work this out.

But Chen Bin, one of their allies, has died (and in the first episode!! with a pregnant wife waiting for him that was so twisted of them, but I had a feeling their introduction was a death flag), bringing us back to reality: the game isn't over. There are new players, new pieces that we have yet to see where they fit — even how do current pieces fit, with all the new knowledge.

So. What do we trust?

Episode 2 reminds us no one is safe. It even ends on a cliffhanger of Lu Guang already in trouble, directly crossing paths with Red Eyes. Does he die for real this time? 2 funerals still seem to be going on, so is one for Chen Bin and another for Lu Guang (especially with the outfit in that obscured picture)? Or will they actually focus on Liu Min, someone who is shown to not be appreciated by his father?

Also, knowing CXS, he will probably try to find a way to save everyone, to get justice for everyone — and if we are to take the imagery from the ED, new knowledge of their powers could help him do that. At a cost.

Like, these lines from VORTEX:

Where do we end up when we save the world?

Wanting it all / And the whole world will crumble and fall

It's as if there will be a point this season where it seems like they've done it. Like they've won. But the rules of time remind them that they can't have everything. That everything as they know it will crumble if they get what they want.

What if reality fractures, timelines converging and distorting the truth, until we don't know where one timeline ends and another begins; which timeline each character belongs to.

Shattered mirrors our reflection

So this is where The TIDES comes in. If VORTEX is a song that blends determination to "win this silly game" with warnings of what happens when you play with destiny, The TIDES seems reflect uncovering the truth about the powers held in this world and its inner workings.

Open your eyes... passing through lies.

I got lost in the trap of time lapse / Cut through the night

The lyrics seem to act as a reminder to remain vigilant with what we are seeing, to not take things at face value. That the characters must cut through the darkness, to find their way out of the traps of the various timeliness. That there is a truth to be revealed to place all the pieces together.

Guess we'll just have to wait and see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#link click #shiguang daili ren #时光代理人 #link click spoilers #shiguang daili ren spoilers #sgdlr #link click thoughts #again I feel like this lacks actual coherency but oh well #I think it captures how this show is once again living in my mind rent-free #i do not trust this show #i have learned my lesson #my post #long post #myst's musings

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luvoid · 5 months

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thinking so hard abt how scar spent the whole season trying to make friends only for the secret keeper to get in his way every time, and how in the last session he was just like fuck it we ball, allies be damned. so he pretends to be more invested in groups than he is, plays the game as the secret keeper always wanted him to, and turns on anyone who has grown inconveniencent to him.

and it works. he wins, he is the last player standing, and he cant quite believe it. the only time he made it even close to this far, hed lost it to his only true ally willingly. but he doesnt have any real allies now, he turns on pearl because shes just like everyone else. she will turn on him if he doesn’t get there first. (of course, shes won before. she doesn’t /want/ to win. she’d already offered to sacrifice herself for scar. but lost to the adrenaline, who knows if scar remembers that.)

but actually killing her? making it so far without anyone by his side, even beyond the grave? maybe scar half expected pearl to kill him first.

scar is alone, not for the first time. he spent ll and sl mostly alone, but it was never like this. now its quiet and the fires are dying down and he is all thats left. he took everything down with him without anyone holding him back, and that feels good, right? he… he wanted this.

#secret life #secret life spoilers #goodtimewithscar #gtwscar #i am so normal abt this i am definitely not pacing like a caged animal that is my least favourite thing to do

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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months

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CATFA: Part Five

Pairing: Ikaris x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The promise you made to Bucky will stand firm because you're not going to let anything happen to Steve. He's eager to get started, even after seeing his other recruits in boot camp. You're off to the side since you've already done this and are allowed to observe. A very slim young woman approaches the recruits with a serious look on her face.

"Recruits, attention! Gentlemen, I'm Agent Peggy Carter. I supervise all operations for this division."

"What's with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army," one of the recruits asks with a smirk.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty."

"Step forward, Hodge," she orders, and he does as he's told. "Put your right foot forward."

"Mmm, we gonna wrassle? Because I got a few moves I know you'll like," he winks.

Peggy pulls her fist back and punches him square in the jaw. He falls to the ground in shock as blood squirts out of his nose. The Colonel picks the right time to come in on a jeep.

"Agent Carter."

"Colonel Phillips."

"I see you're breaking in the candidates. That's good!" he turns to the fallen soldier. "Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention until somebody tells you what to do."

"Yes, sir," Hodge sniffles as he tries to keep the blood inside his nose.

"General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons," the Colonel begins, "but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men and because they're gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers, and they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell."

Steve has always had trouble trying to fit in wherever he went. This training camp was no different. The other recruits saw his size and immediately thought he couldn't do it. They made his life hell here, but Steve was a fighter. He never gave up even when things looked a little bleak.

When you were a recruit, you had gone through the same hell as them, only more difficult. Your recruitment officer wanted to make it as tough as possible to prove a woman couldn't do it. When you passed with flying colors, he knew you weren't an ordinary woman.

The recruits are doing their run around the camp, but you're hanging out with Dr. Erskine and Peggy in a jeep waiting for them to get to the halfway point.

"Y/N, I'd like to talk about your academy results if you don't mind," the doctor asks.

"What about them?"

Dr. Erskine and Peggy look at one another as if they know something you don't. He tries to get the words out of his mouth, but Peggy takes over.

"How you passed with such perfect scores."

"Hard work, I guess."

"Yes, that's what I thought until I looked at the footage." Dr. Erskine takes out photos that were developed from the footage since he can't show you personally. The first photo is of you alone in the camp when you thought no one was around to see you. The next photo is of you hunched over as you're in the middle of transforming into an animal. The third photo is of you as the animal. The fourth photo is you running away from the spot into the woods behind the camp. "Care to explain?"

"No," you shake your head.

"Not even the best candidates of your group got perfect scores, yet, you did. Now, unless you'd like me to show this to authorities, I suggest you start explaining."

Well, there is no use in lying to them now, so you come clean.

"I'm not human. I'm from a planet called Xenia, and I came to Earth nearly a thousand years ago. Believe me or not, I'm not the bad guy here. I'm a shapeshifting avatar that can control the elements. I can turn into anything and anyone as long as it's living."

To demonstrate, you use your aerokinesis and cause the wind to pick up. There are no clouds in the sky, but you solidify the water molecules in the air, causing them to sprinkle down onto the three of you. Peggy looks up in shock when she doesn't see any clouds above her.

"I once belonged to a government that only wanted to inflict pain. They were bullies. I put a stop to it, and I've been bouncing from planet to planet trying to help them. All I want here is to help," you say and cease all activity. Peggy and Dr. Erksine aren't nearly as shocked as you thought they were going to be. "You two don't seem that shocked."

"We're looking for someone to be experimented on with a serum we've created. It will enhance their speed, strength, and stamina. We like to say we're building a super soldier to help us win the war," Dr. Erskine reveals.

"We'd like your input."

"Sure." The unmistakable sound of feet stomping on the ground can be heard from where you are. The recruits are coming this way. "I guess it goes without saying that I'd like for my secret to remain a secret."

"We'll keep yours if you'll keep ours."

"Deal."

You look back and see everyone running in two lines, but Steve is all the way in the back and falling behind. Seeing him so battered and bruised makes you think about the promise you made to Bucky. Then, you think about Bucky and how you miss him so much. He's in England right now fighting for his life without you by his side. Maybe this weekend, when you have off, you'll fly over there and see how he's doing.

"That flag means we're at the halfway point!" the instructor points to a flagpole ten feet off to the side. "The first man to bring it to me rides back with Agent Carter! Move!"

All ten recruits rush to the flagpole and try to get to the flag, but they're all failing. Some try to climb it but only get a few feet off the ground. They try to help each other up, but none can pass the halfway point up the pole.

"Nobody's got that flag in seventeen years! Now fall back in line! Come on, fall in!" All the recruits fall back in line, but Steve hasn't gotten his turn to try. "Rogers, I said fall in!"

Steve looks at the flagpole and notices the base of it. There is a latch that can be undone. He pulls it free from the base, allowing the flagpole to fall to the ground in a defining thump. Everyone is shocked into silence when Steve grabs the flag. You and Peggy look at the instructor with smirks on your faces; you're kind of proud of Steve for using his brain. He hands the flag to the instructor and gets into the backseat of the jeep.

Once everyone gets back to the main area for training, it's time for more exercises. All the recruits need to do push-ups over and over again, and everyone does them well except for Steve. He's trying his best, but he can't seem to keep up with everyone else.

"Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!" Peggy barks orders at the recruits.

You're off to the side watching them when you notice Dr. Erskine and the Colonel talking by one of the keeps. The Colonel takes a grenade from the back, takes out the safety pin, and throws it into the pit of recruits.

"Grenade!"

If you don't do something soon, then it's going to blow up. You stick your hand out and use your aerokinesis to manipulate the air around the grenade to throw it somewhere else. All the recruits hide behind objects that could protect themselves, but Steve jumps on top of the Grenade to take the fall for everyone else. You, Peggy, the doctor, and the Colonel stare at him in wonder as the recruits look at him like he's crazy.

"Is this a test?" Steve asks when the grenade doesn't blow up.

He's proving to be the one they need for the serum, even if the Colonel doesn't think so. He's passed every test and done everything they've asked for regardless if it's harder for the other recruits to do it.

When it was clear who they were going to pick for the serum, Dr. Erskine came clean to Steve about what was really going on. Steve was apprehensive, but he was ready to take that final step. That final step leads you back to Brooklyn. You're in the car with Peggy and Steve and you can already feel some sort of tension. It's nothing bad, but it's definitely something.

"I know this neighborhood," Steve recognizes the area. "I got beat up in that alley, that parking lot, and behind that diner."

"Did you have something against running away?"

"If you start running and they'll never let you stop. So, you stand up and push back. Can't say no forever, right?"

"I know a little of what that's like. To have every door shut in your face."

"I guess I just don't know why you'd wanna join the army if you're a beautiful dame," Steve says. He realizes his choice of words and stutters out an apology. "Or a beautiful... a woman. An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but—"

"You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" she interrupts him.

You snicker under your breath, and he lightly kicks your shin to get you to stop. It's his way of telling you to shut the fuck up.

"This is the longest conversation I've had with one. Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on."

"You must have danced?"

"Asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying. The past few years just didn't seem to matter that much. I'd figured I'd wait."

"For what?"

"The right partner." Peggy stares at him in admiration just as the car pulls up to an antique store. You're the first one out, then Peggy, and finally Steve. "What are we doing here?"

Peggy leads you two inside an antique store, and the owner comes out to greet Peggy.

"Wonderful weather this morning isn't it?"

"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella."

The owner gives her a nod, and Agent Carter leads you two to a bookcase in the back which opens up to reveal that they were, in fact, doors. She took the lead down to a hidden lab in a big circular room filled with machinery and a pod in the middle.

"Good morning," Dr. Erskine announces when he sees you. He shakes your and Steve's hands respectively. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Steve acknowledges.

"Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat," he commands. As soon as he achieves that, he climbs into the pod that is ready whenever he is. "Comfortable?"

"It's a little big. You save me any of that schnapps?" he asks the doctor.

"Not as much as I should have. Sorry. Next time. Mr. Stark, how are your levels?"

Howard Stark comes onto the platform, and you stare at him in admiration. He made an impression when you saw him at the Exposition of Tomorrow. It's fitting that he's working on this project since he's brilliant.

"Levels at 100%. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we're ready as we'll ever be."

"Agent Carter? Don't you think you would be more comfortable in the booth?" the doctor inquires.

"Oh, yes, of course."

You turn to follow her, but Steve grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving.

"Stay, please."

"I'm right here," you whisper and stay by his side.

After a few moments of silence, the doctor picks up a microphone to talk to the people inside the booth as they watch from above.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today, we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step toward the path to peace. We begin with a series of micro-injections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. Then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays."

Wow, if only Markus was this thorough with you back then. Another doctor in the room stuck a needle in Steve's arm and quickly injects whatever is inside.

"That wasn't so bad," Steve comments.

"That was penicillin," the doctor informs him. "Serum infusion beginning in five, four, three, two, one."

The serum is injected into Steve's arm at the end of the countdown. The Doctor gives a thumbs-up to Howard, and the inventor pulls a lever that encloses Steve into the pod and stands him upright. Dr. Erskine walks to the tiny window and knocks on it.

"Steven, can you hear me?"

"It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?"

"We will proceed," the doctor nods.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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