#but i decided to keep it brief this time…
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can i request - aaron and reader are just married and on a case where they are sharing a room? i feel like morgan would have a field day with the teasing!
honeymoon phase
YESSS LOL I ADORE THAT cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, suggestive teasing remarks, brief mentions of sex, playful team banter 🤭
"Alright," Aaron approached, his impending footsteps breaking the soft conversation that had been unfolding amongst the team.
"Due to the winter storm that's rolling in, the hotel's almost at full vacancy. We'll have to double up." He handed Dave, Spencer, JJ a key card, keeping one for himself. "You all can decide who you'll share a room with. Sweetheart, you're with me. Let's meet here in the morning at eight, and head to the precinct together." Aaron finished, opting to grab his bag from your grasp, relieving you the need to hold it.
Everyone nodded in quiet understanding, heads moving in unison as they too collected their things. The discussions resumed - quick laughs, pairing up, the usual.
You yawned as you all trudged towards the elevator, eager for the warmth of bed. Additionally, the warmth of your husband's body beside yours.
However Derek stayed put, in such an obvious, idea-brewing sort of way. The gears in his head were turning; an undeniable, mischievous flicker in his eyes. His gaze followed the two of you, the newly wedded couple as of a month ago.
"Oh no," You mumbled jokingly under your breath, smushing your lower face into Aaron's shoulder.
"Hm?" Aaron hummed gently as his gaze shot down to you in question, his finger stopping short of the up button.
"Now remember you two, this isn't your honeymoon." Derek lectured as his index finger traveled between you and Aaron, doing an awfully bad job at keeping a straight face. "These walls," He moved to the side to tap his knuckle against the surface for dramatic effect, the sound produced sharp and reverberating. "are thin. We don't need y'all keeping us up to all hours. I would prefer to get some sleep tonight."
"You brought your headphones, didn't you?" Emily joined his banter, teasingly shoving her go-bag into his.
"You already know it. Now that these love birds have death till us parted, I'll never leave home without them. Can't be too careful." He tossed you a playful wink, daring you to quip back.
"You're funny." Aaron beat you to it, his eyebrows lifting in an eased, amused manner across his forehead.
Morgan flashed his dazzling smile, in awareness that yes, he was.
"But no." Aaron denied, with a small shake of his head. "Not on cases."
"Liar." Emily concealed in a cough, fist in front of her mouth.
But it was true. Moments of intimacy, out in the field, were few and far between. You were on the job, for one. And adequate rest was needed - for energy, focus, and the ability to stay sharp in high pressure situations. Without it, the smallest of missteps could cost lives.
It was achingly tempting at times; there had been countless times where you just wanted to jump Aaron and make him yours - you were still very much in the honeymoon phase. But you owed it to the victims, their grieving families, and any potential, future victims.
In addition, it only worked better in your shared favor when the time for sex did come. The build-up, the waiting, the restraint too much to bear and everything falling into place with a sense of release. It only added to the satisfaction.
If a case concluded, and the jet was grounded until morning - technically you were off the job. Anything could happen then.
"It's a good thing, for you that is. Wouldn't want to hurt your ego, Morgan." You flashed him a smirk. "With these 'thin walls', you'll be thinking you've been doing something wrong all this time."
Morgan's face instantly turned from amusement to slight dismay, his nose wrinkling up in disbelief. "I don't think so."
"She's right." Aaron confirmed, a knowing glint behind his eyes as he swiftly looked you up and down. A smile grew on your face, some heat rushing through your body. "Bed, sweetheart?"
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖭𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾
Thanos x American!reader
a/n: hi my babies! so this is my first thanos (choi su-bong) fic i'm posting. however, i kind of wrote this as an aftermath of a little series i've been working on of them in the games. so, once i am done hating it and editing it, i will posit it! but i hope you guys enjoy this cute lil fluff. i suck at writing fluff tbh but i tried! xx also, t.o.p is my gwiyomiii, my honeyyyy, my angel babyyyyyyyyy! i'm so inlove with him so feel free to send requests!
synopsis: nightmares of the games still haunt Thanos a year later, but luckily Y/n will never leave his side.
warnings: language, fluff, very brief mention of sex if you squint
wc: 1.1k+
You couldn’t sleep. Insomnia had wrapped itself around your mind ever since surviving the games last year, a constant shadow in your otherwise bright new life. You had so much to be grateful for—making it out alive, the money that had saved you in more ways than one, and, of course, Su-Bong. Though, to this day, you still called him T. Your T.
Never in a million years would you have imagined living in a sleek penthouse in downtown Seoul with a man you fell in love with while playing deadly children’s games. Yet here you were, in a world that once seemed as unreachable as a dream: Thanos’ World. And you loved it.
The games had changed Thanos in ways you never thought possible. He quit the drugs, buried his oversized ego, and spent six months holed up in his apartment with only you for company. It was a metamorphosis you never expected but cherished deeply. When he finally emerged from that cocoon of self-reflection, he returned to music—his first true love. But this time, it wasn’t about sex, drugs, and wealth. His lyrics delved into the rawness of his childhood, the pain of his struggles, the weight of his dreams—and you. Always you. You were his muse.
Being with the Thanos, however, was far from simple. Going out with him was an ordeal, a gamble. Fans flocked to him wherever he went, now more than ever, since he’d announced his new album. He once thrived on the chaos, basking in the adoration of women throwing themselves at him and men idolizing him. He was a star, and he reveled in the glow. But now? Now the attention suffocated him. He avoided crowded places as much as he could, especially when you were by his side.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to show you off—God, he did. But the fear gnawed at him. What if something happened to you? What if someone hurt you? You’d already faced your fair share of vitriol when the media leaked that Thanos was dating some American girl. “American bitch,” they’d called you, throwing their venom your way in tabloids and comment sections. But the hate didn’t break you. If anything, it hardened your resolve.
You refused to let him hide away forever. When his anxiety tried to keep him tethered to the penthouse, you were the one who dragged him out into the world. You reminded him of what life outside these walls could offer, even if it wasn’t always kind. And slowly, piece by piece, you were helping him reclaim it.
You glanced over at Thanos, his peaceful face softened by sleep, his arm draped lazily over your bare thighs. Carefully, you lifted his arm and slipped out of bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb him. Padding toward the kitchen, you glanced at the clock: 2:30 a.m. Another sleepless night. You sighed, the weight of endless insomnia pressing down on you.
You set the kettle to boil, deciding tea wouldn’t cut it tonight. The staleness of the room felt suffocating. What you needed was air. Before stepping out to the balcony, you peeked into the bedroom again, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Thanos’ chest.
The view of Seoul stretched before you as you stepped outside. The city pulsed with quiet energy, its lights casting a warm glow against the dark sky. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the breeze, mingling with the night air and brushing your hair across your face. This view, this life—it was something you’d never take for granted.
Pulling out your phone, you typed a quick message to Se-mi.
y/n: You up?
Minutes passed before your phone buzzed with a reply.
Se-mi: Yeah. Can’t sleep?
y/n: The insomnia is never-ending.
Se-mi: I miss when we all lived together.
Your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. Memories of those first fragile weeks after escaping the games flooded your mind. The four of you—Thanos, Se-mi, Min-su, and you—crammed into your tiny apartment, clinging to each other for sanity. For weeks, you barely left the safety of those walls. Eventually, Thanos invited everyone to move in with him, but Se-mi and Min-su had decided it was time to go back to their families. The games had taught them how precious life was. That, and your shared space wasn’t exactly conducive to privacy—especially with how loud things could get between you and Thanos when you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.
y/n: I miss it too. I miss you. Shopping tomorrow?
Se-mi: You know I hate shopping.
y/n: But you love me, and T gave me his black card.
Se-mi: Spoiled brat.
y/n: See you tomorrow 🥰
Se-mi: Can’t wait ✌🏼
You smiled at her response, warmth spreading through you at the thought of reconnecting with your best friend. But the moment of peace was shattered by a sound from inside—faint whimpers carried through the air. Your heart clenched. Setting your tea down, you hurried back to the bedroom.
“T?” you called softly as you stepped inside.
No response. Only the faint cries that sent chills down your spine. You rushed to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Thanos was thrashing slightly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his hands grasping desperately at the empty space where you should have been.
“Fuck! NO!” he suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse with panic.
“T!” you gasped, climbing onto the bed and pulling him into your arms. “T, baby…” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
His hand found your shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist as though clinging to reality. He fought against the demons clawing at him, his breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, his eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first, until they locked onto yours. His lip quivered as shame filled his expression.
“Hi, baby,” you whispered, brushing your thumb tenderly across his cheek to wipe away the tears. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
“Fuck…” he sighed, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shirt. His shame was palpable, but you held him tightly, cradling him as though the weight of his nightmares could be eased by your embrace.
“Another nightmare?” you asked softly. He nodded wordlessly, slipping his hand into yours. He hated these moments. Hated the way his past still haunted him, dragging you into his darkness. But you didn’t mind. You’d made a decision long ago: this man was worth every struggle, every sleepless night. Some may say a few days isn’t enough time to know who is your person, but when your life is on the line, time has a way of fast-tracking love.
“M’sorry…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your chest.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, T,” you reassured him, your fingers running soothingly through his hair. “You know I’ll always be right here.”
“Promise?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable.
You kissed his forehead, tightening your arms around him. “Promise,” you said, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.
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#squid game#thanos x reader#thanos#thanos squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game 2#choi seunghyun#choi su bong#squid game thanos#player 230#kpop#kpopidol#t.o.p bigbang#t.o.p#bigbang
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The Apprentice 1/?
Chapter One; Deer, Fox, or Rabbit?
Pairing; Viktor x Vampire!Reader Warnings; none too extreme? Blood drinking (animal), mainly just yappers yapping about things. it’s a little twilight coded, so what?? sue me! Word Count; 7.9k
Summary; Finding an Apprentice should be easy. You have a simple task, one that cannot be handled lightly. Yet, the mind is a unique thing, and each one you've come across don't seem to meet your specific qualifications. Until your dear friend and confidant, Heimerdinger, brings forth a man with a bright ambition and a determination that could rival anyone.
A/n; oh god,, another series?? this one ahs been cooking for the last few days, and after finishing arcane and igniting my LOVE for Viktor, i decided it was time to try my hand at writing him :>> my darling friend @disturbyn beta read this so I’m no longer liable for financial instability!
THIS IS NOT EDITED!
DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!
“My dear friend,” a voice chimes, and you smile. Dropping to a knee, you open your arms to greet him with a brief hug. He was warm, fur soft as it touched your cheek. He pulls away, and with bright eyes he says your name. He was dressed in his usual councilman attire, blue fabric complimented with gold.
“Councilor Heimerdinger, what a pleasant sight to see.”
He waves you off, stepping away to give you a glare “drop the formalities, would you?”
Shrugging, you rise to your full height, tipping your head to your driver who opened your door. The streets of Piltover were bustling with life, people walking in and out of the building. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud in the sky, the buildings of Piltover glimmering and dazzling. On the rare occasions that you visit, the city never fails to amaze you with its beauty. More innovations included, more steps into the future.
Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements.
Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter.
“I find it customary, dear friend,” you jest, beginning to climb the steps of the building. It was large, almost doubling the size of the one from the last Inventors Competition you attended. It was hosted in Piltover this year, situated right between the heart of the city, and the bridge that leads to Zaun. The building was a museum, repurposed for the day. Three sets of double doors were propped open, allowing people to freely go in and out. Marble steps lead the way up, the chains on your boots clinking with each step you take.
“Yet, you’ve arrived late,” Heimerdinger says, “not very customary of you, my dear.”
“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”
He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”
“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably.
Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate.
Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings.
Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before.
He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake.
Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements.
Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter.
“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”
“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”
Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days.
Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore.
“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”
He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”
“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”
He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”
Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.
“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”
Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”
Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast.
The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions.
“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human.
“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in.
Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---
Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---
Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---
First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---
Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.
Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary.
In italicised gold ink, was your name.
Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all.
“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”
“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way.
“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”
You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest.
“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”
He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”
Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.
Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles.
Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name.
“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.
“I do, my dear.”
“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor.
“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours.
“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees.
“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”
Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top.
He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.
“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”
Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest.
The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air.
There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely.
Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes.
The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked.
You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong.
“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand.
Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”
“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name.
“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”
Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”
He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”
Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.
One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man.
“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”
Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”
“Hm, not swayable, then?”
He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly.
The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously.
“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat.
“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”
That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil.
“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”
“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.
You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”
Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”
One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs.
Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating.
With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head.
“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight.
Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following.
My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle.
Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well.
“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back.
“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes.
Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”
“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”
A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently.
“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”
He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”
Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.
“You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”
It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself.
Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”
You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”
“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms.
The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”
“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”
Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”
“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”
“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”
A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?
“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.
“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”
“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”
“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”
Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry.
“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”
You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”
“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”
“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers.
“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”
“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long.
You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.
You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be.
“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”
“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.
“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”
Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”
Ice water, poured directly over your head.
“Heimerdinger-“
“Professor-“
Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here.
“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”
Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him.
“Who said I wasn’t interested?”
Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side.
“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”
Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.
“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”
“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination.
“He isn’t the right fit.”
Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”
A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.
“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”
“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”
The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”
You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”
“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”
“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”
It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”
“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”
You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”
“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”
Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare.
You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?
Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall. The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand.
Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names.
First place, Viktor —-
There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.
“Where to, my lady?”
Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”
“As you wish, my lady”
------
Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls.
One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine.
“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”
You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing.
“Rabbit.”
She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other.
Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging.
“I’m not thirsty.”
You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip.
Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way.
“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”
“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs.
“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”
She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”
“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”
“And why is that, my lady?”
You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”
You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting.
“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”
The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life.
“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back.
Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress.
“Indulge me, what does it look like?”
“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”
Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”
You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land.
“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”
Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”
“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!”
“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”
She was right, and you knew it.
The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist.
“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.
“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs.
“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.
“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”
Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks.
They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline.
“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.
“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”
“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly.
“Let him in, then”
Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk.
It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door.
Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding.
“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”
Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.
“What are you doing here, Viktor?”
“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck.
His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly.
It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was.
“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips.
Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass.
Ah, the wine.
“Say again?”
He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about.
“I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“
“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled.
“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“
“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”
Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-
Thick liquid?
Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly.
“Is that blood?”
You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it.
“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”
His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say.
“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”
Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you.
“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently.
“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed.
“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”
Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs.
“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”
Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.
“A vampire?”
“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again.
“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped.
“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”
“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”
“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”
“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”
“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front.
The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire
“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”
His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest.
“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”
Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice.
“Then I will help you.”
Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”
Want to be tagged? comment or send a message! ill gladly tag you <3
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Can't You See The Connection?
Notes: Just a cute intrusive thought I decided to write, but I hope you like it!
Warnings: SFW!! Thanos x GN!Reader; Reader is not Asian, but country of origin not specified! ; No use of "Y/n" ; Reader paints nails ; Soft ; Cute ; Violence mentioned in the series.
You were still having to absorb your current situation. Stuck in a place you have no idea where it is, having to play children's games to survive, surrounded by people you've never seen in your life… all because of a debt. What a load of shit.
For your own benefit, you've always been more of an observer than a talker. So you managed to read some of the players just by watching what they did. Without having to talk to anyone, you discovered that player 333 almost got punched for manipulating his followers into investing in cryptocurrencies (which led to them losing everything); player 456 had played the games before and won; player 230 was a rapper and players 149 and 007 were mother and son.
It wasn't much, but it was something to know who to avoid and who could be useful.
After the first game, the dormitory no longer seemed so full. Not just because of the people who died, but because most of the players were still in shock, the only ones who spoke were those gathered in small groups. You were sitting on your bunk, minding your own business and totally ignoring the brief glances that landed on you.
As a foreigner, you were more than used to your simply different appearance attracting attention. The problem was when they made hostile comments, but as long as they weren't directly said to you, you could ignore them. These damn games were just beginning, it wasn't a good time to get into trouble and be tarnished in the eyes of others if you needed a group in the future.
Because you were ignoring all the stares, you didn't even notice the one that was most persistent on you. Since the end of the first game, Thanos hasn't been able to take his eyes off you. Not only because your appearance stood out, but because when the game was over and everyone was pale with horror after seeing people die because of a stupid game, you were standing just catching your breath. Not seeming at all affected by what just happened, by what you just saw. And that made him curious even though he was a little high at the moment.
Thanos was sitting with player 124, Nam-Gyu. His eyes still on you with curiosity. He analyzed every detail of you that was different from what he was used to. The shape of your eyes, the tone of your skin, the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips… everything was captivating to him.
But something caught his attention as soon as his eyes noticed it. It made him jump as he stood up and walked over to you without even responding to Nam-Gyu's call. You insisted on keeping your gaze down even when he stopped next to your bunk, thinking that it could be some random player wanting to get into trouble for some reason, wanting to avoid that for at least one more day.
- Hey, your nails! They're just like mine.
The soft but excited voice said and then the man stretched his hand in front of your eyes so you could see. In fact, the man painted each nail a color just like you, even if it wasn't the same colors as yours. When you looked up to see who it was, you were met with the smug smile of Thanos, who was waiting for your answer. You really thought about giving a short and cold answer to cut him off and thus get him away from you. He was very noisy and had already started a fight early on, he was the type of player you should avoid. But honestly? He was the only one so far who didn't look at you as if you were an alien, so at the last second you decided to give him a brief smile before answering:
- It's true. Are you copying me by chance?
You said with sarcasm and a slightly friendly tone. And God… it was just a half smile, but Thanos was sure his heart wasn't beating faster because of the drug. He smiled wider as he absorbed the sarcasm and withdrew his hand, putting both in his pockets.
- More likely the opposite. There's no need to be embarrassed if you're a fan of mine.
- Fan of yours? - You raised an eyebrow - Why would I be a fan of yours? I don't even know you.
- Don't know me? I am the legendary rapper Thanos! Come on, you must have heard me somewhere.
- No, no idea.
If Thanos was upset that you didn't know him, he hid it well by just shaking his head, still smiling and letting out a sigh.
- Guess I should introduce myself then, huh?
And without waiting for your answer, Thanos began to improvise a rap introducing himself and talking about how great he was. In a kind of pathetic way, on purpose to make you laugh. He would soon discover that he was becoming addicted to your smile as if it were a new kind of drug, even if you hated yourself a little every time it happened. But you couldn't help it, his rap was so cocky and pathetic that, for a brief moment, you forgot that you were trapped in this place at the risk of your life. You relaxed and just laughed, feeling the brief lightness that the sensation brought.
When he finished, you said your name accompanied by "I'm just…" in front to contradict the cocky way he introduced himself. Thanos smiled and said it was a pleasure to meet you, repeating the "just" in front when saying your name.
He extended his right hand to greet you, you looked at the gesture for a second before shaking his hand with yours. Your colorful nails matched in a way and he liked that, it was as if there was already a kind of bond between you, something that connected you.
- Come to my group. Nam-Gyu is a bit annoying sometimes, but you can tell him to shut up if you want.
You found it funny how he said the phrase in the most banal tone possible, as if he were referring to some kind of pet and not another player, but you accepted the offer and went with him to the other side of the dormitory where the boy was waiting for Thanos in the same place he left him.
As the drug wore off, Thanos noticed more how much he liked your accent, your smile, your voice, the way you sometimes gestured with your hands… it was as if it was simply difficult not to look at you.
And in that moment of sobriety he knew he would do everything he could to make sure you survived the games with him.
Sorry for any typos;
Buy me a coffee?
Masterlist;
Drabbles Game
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game oneshot#squid game headcanons#thanos squid game#thanos round 6#thanos x reader#thanos squid game x reader#thanos x gn!reader#thanos x you#choi su bong#choi su bong fanfic#choi su bong x reader#choi su bong oneshot
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All That Matters
Requested by anonymous: "Alright, could you write Luca with a younger reader (25-28 yes old). She's super sweet and bubbly, basically just a sunny disposition. People think she's too young for him/he's too old for her, like especially her family. She grew up really seeking their approval, like she has a problem trying to make other people happy even if it leaves her exhausted, sad, or uncomfortable. but she won't compromise her happiness this time for anyone because she really loves Luca. Sorry if that's too much. I really love your writing" AND a request that I lost about Luca meeting his shy/innocent girlfriend on the beach and keeping their relationship private
Pairing: Dominique Luca x younger!fem!reader
Summary: You're sweet, bubbly, and perfect for Luca. When people begin judging your relationship because of the age gap, you decide that you, Luca, and the love between you are all that matters.
Warnings: age gap, fluff, brief angst, parental judgement
Word Count: 2.0k+ words
A/N: Thanks for the kind words, anon! And sorry to the other anon whose ask I lost; I hope I remembered the gist of it. :)
“What’d you think of that one, sweetheart?”
Luca looks up from his surfboard when he hears the question. It sounds wrong like the man in the wetsuit is calling someone sweetheart when he shouldn’t be. The word is dripping in condescension, and Luca is prepared to stand up for the woman being addressed with the sarcastic and likely uninvited pet name.
“It was really good!” you reply, smiling brightly.
Immediately, Luca regrets turning his attention away from his board. He’s quickly convinced he can never get it back from you. You playfully shove the surfer, who grips his arm like he’s in incredible pain. At least she’s okay, Luca thinks as he tries to focus on prepping his board for his morning surf.
“Peters was looking at you again,” the man with you complains.
“Why?” you inquire, using your heel to trace a shape in the sand.
With a sigh, he replies, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going back in. Pay attention long enough to give me some honest feedback?”
“You’re always good,” you assure him. “But I’ll try.”
Luca stands and lifts his board while your friend runs into the surf again.
“Good morning,” you greet as he nears you.
“Morning,” Luca replies with a smile. “How’s the surf look today?”
Nodding, you look at the water and say, “Good. Offshore breeze should help, water’s glassier than it was yesterday, and the wave shapes have been nice.”
“You know your stuff.”
You look down at the sand, and Luca decides then he’d love to get to know you.
“I’m Luca,” he says, dropping the end of his board to shake your hand.
“Luca!” your friend calls as he returns from a wave you didn’t witness. “I thought I recognized that board.”
“And I should have recognized the hair,” Luca replies, fist-bumping him.
“How do you two know each other?” you inquire.
They both look pointedly at their boards, and you roll your eyes.
“Better question is, how do you two know each other?” Luca questions.
“He’s my neighbor,” you explain. “He’s trying to ‘get me out of my shell.’ His words.”
“It’s working!” he defends. “You wouldn’t have talked to a stranger on the beach six months ago.”
You lower your voice to confide in Luca, “That’s true.”
“Excuse me,” your neighbor asks, marching toward a surfer you recognize: Peters.
“He doesn’t like Peters looking at you?” Luca deduces.
“I don’t know why,” you say with a shrug. “Good luck surfing. Or have fun, whatever the right phrase is for non-competitive wave riding.”
“Either works. And between you and me, it’s because you deserve better than Peters.”
You look down again, but you’re smiling, so Luca decides to use this opportunity like a perfect wave and ride it for as long as possible.
“Would you like to get dinner with me?” he proposes.
Looking up, you answer, “I’d love to.”
That evening, Luca glances at his watch while Street and Tan argue about which restaurant makes better cheesecake. He needs to leave now, or he’ll be late to your first date, and while you seem incredibly sweet and would probably understand, that isn’t how he wants to start a relationship with you.
“Guys, I’m gonna head out!” he calls, pointing over his shoulder.
“What? Why?” Street inquires. “We’re going to your favorite place!”
“You don’t know what my favorite place is, Streeter. And the waves are going to be perfect in the morning, so I need some rest. Have fun!”
After he leaves his team, he meets you at an oceanside restaurant and takes your hand as you’re led to a table on the deck. The more you talk and open up, Luca realizes that you’re not only sweet, you’re downright bubbly, and possess a sunny disposition about everything in the world. Yes, you’re innocent and can be shy, but you open up to Luca. He knows he was right this morning, and he needs to know everything about you.
Four Months Later
“Pretty dress,” your mother compliments at family dinner.
“Thank you! Luca got it for me,” you reply, holding the skirt as you look down at the dainty details lining the top.
“You’re still with him?” your father inquires. “Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re happy but you are too young for him.”
Your mom lays her hand on his arm as she amends, “He’s quite a bit older than you.”
You swallow harshly, fighting the urge to do something that will regain their approval. You’ve been trying to make them happy your entire life, and when they continuously bring up the age difference between you and Luca, it makes you sad.
“Why don’t you go out with that neighbor of yours?” your mother suggests. “The surfer with the pretty hair?”
Because then you’d complain there’s too much sand in my house. Rather than voicing that opinion, you remind her, “He has a fiancé. And she’s one of my best friends.”
“Maybe I can set you up with a son of one of my buddies,” your father says.
You nod, picking at the appetizer on your plate with no trace of your usual smile. Being aware that you’re a people pleaser doesn’t make dealing with the emotions of disappointing someone any easier.
“I’m happy,” you say softly.
“For now,” your father grumbles.
You decide to change the topic, and as the night goes on, the heaviness in your stomach seems to weigh you down. When you return home, you’re inexplicably exhausted, sad with yourself and your parents, and uncomfortable. You never feel like this with Luca because he accepts you for who you are and doesn’t take advantage of your tendencies to do all you can and more for others. It’s one of the many reasons you love him.
As you lie awake in bed, you make a decision. Your happiness is the only thing that matters. And starting now, you will not compromise your happiness or relationship for anyone. You’ll do it for yourself and for Luca.
“How’d your dinner go?” Luca inquires, brushing a stray hair from your face.
You shrug, and Luca brushes his lips against your temple.
“I don’t want to disappoint them,” you admit. “But I don’t want to put us at risk to do that.”
“Do you care about the age gap?”
“Of course not!”
“Then that’s what’s important. Everything is up to you. I know it’s not easy to hear and even harder to put it into practice but doing what makes you happy is the only way you’ll get what you deserve. You’re sacrificing yourself for others.”
“I just don’t understand why they can’t accept that you make me happy. They don’t care that I love you.”
Luca’s brows raise as he smiles. You realize what you admitted but can’t ask if he’s okay with you saying it before Luca pulls you into a hug that makes all your worries and discomfort disappear.
Luca’s phone buzzes during a sparring match. When he remembers that you are one of the few people who can reach him while he’s at the station, he calls timeout. Ignoring Street’s protests, he lifts his phone and reads the message.
“I gotta go,” he tells his team. “Family thing.”
“You’ve been having a lot of family things,” Deacon says.
“Just tell us what’s going on, man,” Hondo invites. “You know we’re here for you. Don’t have to keep sneakin’ off if you let us help.”
“I…” Luca hesitates, then says, “I don’t know if you can help me get my future in-laws to like me.”
Deacon and Hondo’s jaws drop, and Street snatches Luca’s truck keys out of his hand.
“We’re meeting her right now,” he declares. “Wasn’t a question either, and I can beat you if you try to take these keys back.”
“She’s not feeling great right now,” Luca argues. “Next time.”
Tan pulls Luca’s phone from his hand and taps the message. Luca tries to get his phone back, but Hondo reaches it first. Lifting it to his ear, he raises his hand toward Luca and says, “It’s ringing.”
Luca stops. He’s almost sure you will hang up when you realize it isn’t him calling, but Hondo has a way of disarming people, and you already see the best in everyone you meet.
“Hi,” Hondo greets. “My name is Daniel Harrelson; I work with Luca.” He smiles and holds Luca’s gaze as he says, “Yes, I am Hondo. And Luca is fine. My team and I just wanted to ask if we can finally meet you. Luca hasn’t said a word about you.”
Hondo ends the call a moment later and returns Luca’s phone without a word.
“She said she’ll have coffee and desserts ready when we get there.”
“Watch him,” Deacon warns Luca.
“Alright,” Luca says. He chuckles and shakes his head before inviting his team to follow him to your house. He doesn’t mention that you’re young, sunny, or nearly perfect, but he’s sure they’ll realize quickly. If they disapprove of the relationship, Luca may have to make the hardest decision of his life.
Hondo, Deacon, Street, and Tan watch as you greet Luca at the door. They realize imediately that Luca is in love. Not like the love he’s claimed to be in before, but really, truly, madly in love. What makes Deacon smile is that you are, too. Three of the four men on your walkway don’t notice that you’re younger than Luca, at least not right away. The fourth notices, but only to make well-meaning jokes and take jabs at Luca while they bicker.
“Nice to meet you all,” you say after introductions. “Luca’s told me a lot about you.”
Luca cuts in before Hondo can remind you that they haven’t heard about the relationship.
“We kept the relationship private,” he explains.
“He means he decided to keep me from any possible judgement,” you explain. “I’m getting enough grief from my parents about the age gap without inviting more people to comment on it.”
“I mean I wasn’t going to say anything,” Street begins.
“Then don’t,” Deacon interjects. “He’s kidding.”
Tilting your head, you look at Street, then say, “You’re funny.”
“If you ever get tired of Luca or he throws his back out surfing or something, I’m right here.”
“And you said I’d have to worry about Hondo,” Luca murmurs to Deacon.
“What is that wonderful smell?” Hondo inquires.
“Maybe it’s both of them,” Deacon replies.
“I made some scones, chocolate chip muffins, and brownie bites this morning,” you remember excitedly. “There’s also fresh-brewed coffee. Follow me.”
Luca watches as his team gets to know you. They support the relationship - which they ensure they voice to Luca upon returning to the station - and clearly appreciate your sweet and bright personality. It’s a welcome light in their sometimes dim day-to-day lives.
“So, what are you doing about the parents?” Street inquires as he reaches for another brownie. “If you decide to cut them loose, Deacon and Annie would probably adopt you.”
You look to Deacon, smiling as you expect a deadpanned response that will make you laugh.
“Annie’s going to love you,” he begins. “So, I actually don’t have a response to that because it probably would happen.”
“I think you should just introduce Luca to your parents,” Hondo says, breaking a muffin into smaller pieces. “If we can see how happy the two of you are together, anyone can.”
You look to Luca and decide to do just that. It won’t be an overnight change, but if they see that you love him, they’ll grow to accept him. You and Luca are the only people that matter in your relationship, and you’re happy with him and him alone.
“When’s your birthday?” Tan asks. “We’ll add it to the calendar.”
“What calendar?” you ask.
“The family calendar,” Luca tells you. “I wasn’t kidding when I said if they like you you’re stuck with them.”
Smiling, you ask, “What else is on the calendar?”
“Not your parents’ birthdays!” Street exclaims from the living room, looking at your pictures.
#dominique luca x fem!reader#dominique luca x reader#dominique luca fic#dominique luca#swat x reader#swat imagine#swat fic#fem!reader#requests#hanna writes✯#dominique luca fluff#dom luca x reader#luca x reader
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Our Youth, Absolute Perfection.
I am gone in PhD land, but Our Youth was such perfection that I decided to return in brief to express even a fraction of the wonder I felt watching this show.
From the outset I was thinking we might be getting a Twenty-Five Twenty-One style, start in the sad future, look back at the once joyful past type show (which for the record, I did not watch because I avoid sad endings), but I was hopeful! And as we progressed towards the future I became more hopeful that we’d spend some time in the future, and that that future might not be dark.
And I was fully rewarded in every way.
I don’t think I have ever felt so perfectly made whole by the ending of a show. We fully unpacked the causes of the separation, Haruki’s choice was only meant to last till he successfully got into University. Jin held him close the moment he knew he was allowed.
But we didn't make light of the abandonment, or it's cause.
Even separated, they clung to the memory of each other
Haruki’s film
Jin’s story
I was worried a bit, in ep 10, that we might be going full role reversal and having Jin’s life collapse when Haruki left (with the smoking as the first indicator) but the show didn’t do that to us. He was still a good student, a good friend, he continued on as he always had. Emptier, lonelier, but not broken.
The atmosphere of this show knew it’s platform and so much of that separation was show don’t tell.
There were big and small things too, we were shown Haruki’s growth and desire for more so clearly in his smile, and his certain stride and his confident voice, but did anyone else almost hear Jin say “I miss the taste of his kisses” everytime he picked up a cigarette? Or was that just me?
As they were drawn closer and closer back together in ep 10 I was on the edge of my seat, now? Now? NOW? And then yes! NOW
I could talk about nearly every scene in episode 10, and literally every scene in ep 11 because every single one was full of emotion so loud it took my breath away. Happy, sad, loving, lonely, so melancholic and yet so hopeful.
This show played with the future and the past on a few different occasions, teasing forward and then pulling back to flesh out the how and the when. To me it was meant to be hopeful, we will get there the show kept saying we can make it.
Ep11 really reinforced this so well it brought me to tears.
We aren’t there yet, but trust, and one day we will be.
That felt like the message of the show to me more than anything else
No matter how dark our reality
Keep walking
Keep trying
Keep loving
And the future will come
This show wasn’t about the future that is still to come, the future that will coming, the future that is here already in a lot of ways in Thailand
It was about the past
About Our Youth
About holding on and walking forward
Out of the dark
And, one day, into the light.
10/10 Everyone should watch this.
#JBL#Our Youth#miseinen#miseinen mijukuna oretachi wa bukiyo ni shinkochu#japanese bl#bl series#Rocket4Reviews#rturts is wondering
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Compromising Positions: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Summary: An unsub is targeting and killing married couples, and you and Spencer go undercover in hopes of drawing out the unsub. Not only does it not work, but it opens a can of worms you don't think Spencer is ready to open.
Season Six Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
"Whatever you are, be a good one." – Abraham Lincoln
You're typing on your computer just minding your own business when you feel eyes on you. You look above your computer to see Spencer staring at you from over his. He quickly looks away and goes back to doing what he's doing, and you do the same. Two minutes pass and you feel eyes on you yet again.
This time, you don't look at him.
"Spencer, you're staring," you sing. You look up and see a blush darkening his cheeks, and he quickly looks away. "What is it? Do I have something on my face?"
Spencer grabs his coffee and locks his computer since the briefing meeting starts in one minute. He passes by your desk to get to the stairs leading up to the small second-story and stops right behind you. You look up at him and he leans down to kiss you.
"You're just beautiful."
It's your turn to blush. You two walk to the briefing room together and take your seats while everyone else shuffles in.
"Hey, good news. Ellie just got placed with a foster family, so fingers crossed."
"Oh, that's great. I'm happy for her," Emily smiles.
"We got a case in Akron, Ohio," Hotch says when he walks in. "Two couples were killed in two weeks."
"One a week? That's not much of a cooling-off period."
Hotch puts up pictures of one couple.
"Scott and Kathy Hartway were found in their car in an isolated spot."
"The Son of Sam had a short cooling-off period. He also attacked couples in cars," Spencer says.
"Yeah, but the first couple was killed in their house. Robert and Allison Keppler." Hotch puts their pictures on the screen. "In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced nine-millimeter, and the wife was stabbed multiple times. He's crossed not only racial lines but socio-economic ones. The Kepplers lived in an upscale neighborhood and the Hartways were blue-collar."
"That's a big change in crime scenes--car versus house. Two radically different MOs, not to mention he subdues two people. That takes a lot of skill," Rossi comments.
"There's no indication of how he overwhelms them. There's no antemortem bruising. He doesn't use a blitz attack."
"He's got a nine-millimeter. He doesn't need to."
"How about signs of forced entry to the car or the house?" Derek asks.
"Nothing, but Akron PD did find this." Hotch puts pictures of both deceased males with bruising around their wrists. "Handcuffs. He restrains the men and saves the real savaging for the wife."
"Is this right?" Rossi flips through the paper file. "They found a used condom on both the husbands?"
"Yes, plus both had Viagra in their systems while neither had a prescription."
"So, the unsub gives the men Viagra and then forces them to have sex before he kills them?"
"Given the timetable, he's gonna strike again soon. We fly to Akron tonight. Wheels up in three hours."
Since you have three hours to kill, you decide to go to Hotch's office to talk to him about JJ. It's none of your business who he hires next or the process of getting someone else hired, but you feel like he might want some help to make the process easier.
"Hey, got a second?" you ask and knock on the door.
"Yes. Come in."
You walk into his office but keep the door open.
"So, without JJ, it's going to be tough."
"We'll manage."
"Have you thought about training someone new for the position?"
"Not right this minute."
You say it before even thinking about it. You just want to help out and think this is the best way you can.
"I could do it. I might not have her training but I read people well. I could--"
"Garcia, what is that?"
You turn to see Penelope rolling a suitcase behind her. You take a step back and allow her to walk into the office.
"My go bags."
"Where are you going?"
"With you, hopefully. Sir, I think we're all still reeling since JJ left, and we are a man down so you need a communications liaison." Hotch's mouth opens to respond but she is quick to speak again. "Sir, please hear me out. My job overlapped with JJ's the most. I created the program that she used to present cases. When you guys were out in the field, she coordinated your needs through me. It makes sense."
Hotch looks at you over her shoulder and you shrug as an answer to his silent question.
"Garcia, there are aspects of the job for which you have no training."
"You're totally right but I'm willing to learn. I'll learn how to interact with families, local law enforcement, and the media. Sir, I'm willing to tone down my wardrobe choices. I'm ready to make that sacrifice if you just please give me a chance."
"You know she's serious if she offers to change what she wears," you comment.
After a moment, Hotch nods. "Alright. We could explore this on a trial basis. We'll see how things go. Are you up to speed on the case?"
"Yes."
"Can you be ready in three hours?"
"I'm ready now."
"See you on the plane."
Penelope grins and leaves his office, and you step back to where you were before.
"You understand why she's a better fit."
"Yeah, she'll do good. I just wanted to help you out."
"You can by being out in the field. You're much better out there."
You leave his office and head back down to your desk to get some more paperwork done before the flight. Three hours later, you and the rest of the team are inside the plane but still on the ground. You're sitting next to Spencer but across from Hotch and Emily while Rossi is on the couch next to you. Derek is making himself a coffee knowing he won't sleep on the plane.
"I'm just waiting on a few last-minute details. Let's go ahead and get started," Hotch says.
"I keep thinking about the fact that he makes a married couple have sex before he kills them. What is he accomplishing with that?" Rossi asks.
"You know, the stabbing of the wives is almost certainly like piquerism. The unsub gets sexual gratification from penetration with a knife. Most piquerists are impotent. Men like Albert Fish, Iain Scoular, and Andrei Chikatilo. For him, it could be a substitute for sex."
"The unsub could also be playing a mind game. Neither shot to the husband is clean, so they have to watch what he's doing to their wives as they're dying," Emily adds to Spencer's thought.
"So, this guy challenges their manhood by forcing them to have sex and then mocks them with the overkill. That kind of psychological torture makes him a sexual sadist. It would explain the amount of control he exhibits over the crime scene--the handcuffs, the condoms, and the silenced weapon. He plans out every detail."
"If he's that precise, he would be just as precise in his victimology, but he's all over the map in terms of class and race."
"There must be something else about the couples that attracts him. Something that he couldn't learn by stalking them anonymously. Maybe the couples met the unsub before," you say.
"Rossi and Reid, will you handle the family interviews? Morgan, Prentiss, and Y/N, go to the latest crime scene. We need to learn as much as we can about him so let's really pin down the MO."
Hotch looks past Spencer's shoulder to the front of the plane once someone else walks on board. You look behind you to see Penelope dressed in a gray knee-length dress with a small black blazer. Her hair is straightened and she doesn't have her glasses on which means she is wearing contacts. This is nothing like what she normally wears.
"Well, look at you," Derek smirks.
"Meet your new communications liaison. Trial communications liaison," she corrects.
"Garcia, I don't get to say this often, but I had no idea there was this side of you."
"I figure since I'm going to have to interact with the mass populace, I should dress in the traditional costume of a mere mortal." She squints her eyes as if she is in pain. "Ow. Ow."
"What's wrong?" Derek asks.
"Oh, it's my contact. It keeps getting weird." She pulls down the bottom lid of her eye and rolls it to try and fix her contact. "Huh. There it goes. No. Yes. No. Ow."
You can't help but giggle at her theatrics. Now that the last member is on the plane, the pilot is given the green light to take off. You hook your arm through Spencer's and lean your head on his shoulder, and he rests his head on yours. You mindlessly run your hand up and down his arm as you close your eyes for a bit of rest. Hotch watches you two in thought, ideas already swimming in his head on how you can help him out with this case.
Since the flight is only an hour and a half, you arrive in Akron late at night. Hotch checked everyone into the hotel and allowed everyone to get proper sleep before getting to work in the morning. As soon as the sun is up, you head to the recent crime scene with Derek and Emily, and the rest head to the Akron Police Department.
"Detective Crowley?"
"Miss Garcia. Thanks for coming." He shakes her hand. "She emailed pictures of you guys. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, and Dr. Reid, right? It's doctor, not agent. She was specific about that."
Spencer smiles proudly at Penelope.
"What else was she specific about?" Rossi asks.
"Everything your team needs. I sent her a list of family members who'd be willing to talk, and your boards are over there, all ready for you to set them up. I even got the push pins you asked for."
A distraught man walks into the station and approaches the group.
"Excuse me. Are you miss Garcia?"
"Mr. Keppler. Hi. This is Detective Crowley. He'll show you to the interview room."
Both men leave and Penelope addresses Hotch.
"He is such a sweet man," she sighs.
"You contacted the family members already?"
"Yes. Only two responded back immediately. That is Robert Keppler's dad, and Scott Hartway's mom will be here in about an hour. Is that enough time?"
"Yes, perfect."
"Okay. I'm gonna set up the boards unless you need something else."
"No, we're good. Thank you."
Penelope leaves and Rossi turns to Hotch.
"And you were worried."
"Y/N came to me and asked if she could do it."
"What did you tell her?"
"That she's better off in the field."
"I agree," Rossi nods.
x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite
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Can u tell me more Abt ur OC? Like lore or fun facts or if u have a colored drawing of them to see their color palette ? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) No pressure tho !
hi yes i would love to! thank you for asking!!!
here’s a colored version of the drawing had in my original post ab this ^^
they are actually a very powerful psychic with only one ability, to be able to block out and not be affected by other psychics abilities. so when saiki does his whole mind control / gene alteration thing on the entire population they r just like ?????? bc they r not affected
they aren’t really aware of this power though, just knew they could tell when weird things happened that people around them either ignored or found normal. it was only found out once aiura transfers to saiki’s school and they could see their power since she’s able to see people’s aura (and their aura is visible even in saiki’s bc it works like a barrier or shield)
I’ve taken to calling them Une (like immune, for their ability) but if i come up with something better i might change it. their hair is actually dark brown and they dye it a purple-blue color. i imagine they were upset as a kid when everyone’s hair started changing to cool colors and theirs stayed the same lol
for some backstory, not power related—
une used to stay with their auntie while their parents traveled for their jobs. after the first time saiki started a time loop they caught on pretty quickly since things that already happened were being repeated (the sense of deja vu was to strong). people were starting to think they were crazy since they kept insisting that this already happened LAST YEAR.
une’s family felt like they needed a change of scenery so they moved to their other aunt’s new house and now live with her and their cousin.
now here’s the family tree i made so it’s easier to understand! they're actually related to yuuta so they are neighbors with saiki,,,
since they have a lot of free time bc they take online advanced classes, they decided picking up a part time job at a nearby coffee shop would be a good idea
saiki actually meets them at the coffee shop first and is kind of weirded out since he can’t read their mind but also. he has priorities (his sweet treats) and prob thinks its just another nendou situation. he does investigate it more when he realizes they r actually his neighbor…
i have more ideas but this is getting long so that is it for now ^^!!
#tdlosk#sknpn#oc insert#oc info#saiki k#saiki fan art#saiki kusou no psi nan#the disastrous life of saiki k.#i have more doodles and ideas actually#but i decided to keep it brief this time…#i’ll post the other doodles later!!#btw there is no romance in this story w my oc#👍🏼#amndees#saiki k oc
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botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.
fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.
mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.
aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.
athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.
#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#gale hawthorne#finnick odair#johanna mason#katniss x reader#peeta x reader#gale x reader#finnick x reader#johanna x reader#the hunger games imagine#katniss everdeen x reader#peeta mellark x reader#gale hawthorne x reader#finnick odair x reader#johanna mason x reader#i have so many ideas for this but decided to keep it brief for the time being#part 2 of thg x present day uni students au
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to the people who write summaries and wikis with thorough breakdowns of all the lore and media for a series that breaks it up into 20 different formats: you are doing fantastic work, may it remain intact and accessible well into the future, I owe you my life
to the people that decide splitting your series into 20 different media formats with critical lore in most/all of them is a good idea:
ARCHIVE YOUR SHIT IMMEDIATELY, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING.
#my post#the hill i will die on is “DO NOT EXODIA YOUR MEDIA IF YOU WANT IT TO SURVIVE. DO NOT ASSUME. DO NOT SPLIT THE LORE.''#Example one: FNAF. It is in an absolute cocomelon state of comprehensibility. this is why the fans are insane (/positive).#Example 2: RWBY / RoosterTeeth. Were it not for the work of fans preserving their media#we would have lost SO MUCH fucking work and effort.#Example 3: Project Moon. Comics and fan-works have been scrubbed from the internet because they put their foot up their own asses.#(which at the same time i have endless respect for. but when the lore is any amount spotty. if you use a COMIC to supplement.)#Example 4: BATIM. Putting any amount of lore in the NOVELS is asking for karma.#(FNAF is not immune to this. AT ALL.)#Example 5: *EVERY FUCKING ARG OUT THERE*. It is SO stressful trying to get into a series on a timer-#-that is ENTIRELY decided by how long its host service keeps its components functional#Example 6: Warframe. Half the lore is in YOUTUBE TRAILERS. Half is in INACCESSIBLE EVENTS.#THE STORY IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE WITHOUT THE WIKI.#all of this is exacerbated by streaming services deleting anything and everything at the drop of a hat#and certain medias (BATIM. RoosterTeeth. FNAF) just straight up DELETING THEIR SHIT. for REASONS.#YOUR LONGEVITY IS DOOMED TO A BRIEF EXISTENCE WITHOUT A BACKUP PLAN
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is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5
#hermes staying domitian’s hand… hermes’ face a flash of discomfort when he was torturing tenax… hmm. character growth.#WHAT WAS THAT HERMES. WHAT WAS THAT LOOK. NO GIRL GET BACK HERE I CANNOT ALSO DO THIS NARRATIVE OF YOU NO LONGER ABLE TO PULL HIM BACK FROM#THE BRINK OF HIS CRUELTY WATCHING HIM CHANGE AND SEEKING OUT SOMEONE ELSE IN HIS NEED AND FEAR AND ANGST. NO BABY GIRLLLL#I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A HERMES POINT OF VIEWWWW OF THE SIX YEARS HE SPENT WATCHING DOMITIAN BLOOMMMM INTO HIS POWER AND CORRUPTTTT because.#correct me if i’m wrong but in that very first scene that was a young hermes in the white right he watched domitian give his speech and saw#his father to truly see him the whole time as hermes has seen his brilliance.#NO I ALSO SAW THAT GUARD’S HEAD FOLLOW HERMES oh i hate it here. you know what i also hate? i need domitian to be successful for tenax#but also i do kinda like titus… NOOOOOO NO KILLING TITUS DOMITIAN I JUST SAID I LIKED HIM!!!! DOMITIAN!!!#oh. ohhhh no. OH NOOOO okay listen we can redeem this. we can have the whole turning point of the narrative be domitian’s mercy of hermes#the ultimate staying of his hand. proving he’s not entirely gone that hermes & his love still means something. do i think this will happen#no absolutely not. before he can kill his brother domitian has to kill the only other living person he loves perhaps more than titus if he#could ever realize it. (a brief interlude to yell LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO HI IRIS) domitian… please spare him… OH WAIT HELLO THE BLOOD!!#ALSO a brief interlude to say i knew it was coming but ELIA’S SPEECH ABOUT LOVING INCITATUS??? I WAS ON THIS INCITATUS SHIT WITH THE LITTLE#NOD THEY HAD WHERE SCORPUS CALLED HIM TO BEAT XENON OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!!! elia’s going to crush him. incitatus won’t listen.#scorpus is going to die twice once when they call elia’s name instead of his and then the second time when the scorpion bites him again#(he kills himself and tenax finds him. sorry to give everyone absolutely maximum damage here but uh. that’s how i can see it going down)#or alternatively worse: after killing titus who at times he loves and hates in equal measure (if y’all don’t think I have some UNHINGED#brothers quotes. we’ll keep mum here about why but suffice to say it is. relevant to other fandoms. and thus i have a Collection) the last#thing domitian has to do is kill hermes. and this one is both out of betrayal but also love because I think somewhere in here titus’ queen#berenice plays a role because domitian’s hatred of the jews probably comes to play a role and I think titus would show up and protect her#like Domitian engineers some kind of a situation where in theory titus could escape alive or beat him but he can’t do that & save berenice#and so of course he saved berenice. or she dies in his arms and he goes mad with grief and any way you put it berenice is the trap & titus#happily crawls into the lion’s mouth to save her for love of her etc and domitian sees him die for it. he gives titus every chance to come#back to him to work with him to be what he wants him to be and he always chooses himself he chooses love and domitian can’t understand even#when it makes him weak. and then he sees hermes dirty and emaciated and still terribly terribly beautiful and feels such a pang of longing#and love that he decides he has to die because he (domitian) cannot be weak. he cannot have any of it. also giving domitian worse paranoia#than he already has because if you kill your brother the one person who should always love you—support you—who can build me a new brother—#you’ve gotta generate some MAJOR issues. namely trust issues. and if he kills hermes they’ll be even worse. so like ideally To Me domitian#wouldn’t kill him but i do very much see the symbolism of cutting off his last earthly tie & desire to ascend to the divine imperial throne#those about to die
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Saw a post a while ago that mentioned a debate among Star Wars fans and Star Trek fans about the typical who-would-win between a Borg Cube and the Death Star.
I'll leave them to that debate because who-would-win is highly dependent on the plot anyway and that kind of debate only leads to arguments (plus I find it incredibly boring, I'd much rather debate things like the similarities and disparities between human cultures in the two universes, one with and one without Earth, that would be interesting). But what did catch my eye was a mini-debate later on with people discussing whether or not said Cube would detect the Death Star approaching, the argument being that the modes of travel in the two different universes (namely warp and hyperspace) are so different that the Cube wouldn't be able to detect the Death Star until it reverted to real space.
Which reminded me how much I love that the two travel systems are so similar and yet so different.
I won't be able to get too technical, I'm sure some fans know the exact ins and outs of both kinds of space traversal, but the fundamental difference is how the ships attain FTL, or Faster Than Light. Because otherwise space travel takes FOREVER.
In Star Trek they use impulse engines to putter about for more precision maneuvering but use warp engines to achieve FTL, the warp engines 'warping' space by making a subspace bubble around the ship and therefore insulating it from the extreme pressures of breaking normal physics. As you do.
In Star Wars they use sublight engines for the usual puttering and maneuvering but instead they rely on the hyperdrive to achieve FTL which punts the ship into hyperspace, basically a parallel dimension where ships can achieve FTL without undue stress to the ship itself.
In both cases ships can be pulled out of their warp bubbles or their hyperspace streams due to factors in normal space. In Star Wars, for example, there exist Interdictor class ships which produce massive gravity wells, similar to those of moons or any other significant cosmic body which forces ships to drop out of hyperspace in order to avoid crashing into said body. (This also makes jumping into hyperspace too close to a planetary body incredibly risky. Not impossible, mind, but there is a reason planetary governments have a minimum distance allocated for incoming and outgoing ships.) Star Wars also makes a big deal out of Hyperspace Lanes (there was an entire war fought over them at one point) which are routes that have been confirmed to be empty of any cosmic phenomena discounting the occasional asteroid that wanders in. They're used as major shipping lanes and commercial passenger transports as a result. You can, of course, elect not to use the routes but you run the risk of encountering surprises even with a navicomputer.
In Star Trek the same rules seem to apply with various cosmic phenomena able to disrupt the warp drive and pull the ship out of warp, whether it be extreme gravimetric distortions that require precision piloting to avoid or nebula too thick for the engines to filter or, really, the list goes on. Could be anything from a nebula to the glowing green hand of a supposed Greek god stopping you from going to warp.
But regardless of the actual metrics of the two kinds of space travel, I find the idea that neither ship would be expecting the other to just appear incredibly amusing.
Neither universe would have any experience with a ship that travels in a space bubble or a ship that just casually drops in from another dimension and really why focus on inter-fandom discourse when you can focus on the incidental comedy?
#star wars#star trek#lore#star wars lore#star trek lore#space travel#there's also that wee detail that staring into the swirling blue of hyperspace has been proven to drive people insane#because its literally another dimension not meant to be seen by humanoid eyes#Darth Vader repeatedly spends ages on the bridge just staring into Hyperspace a lot#I can never decide if he's doing it to punish himself or just to prove to himself that he can without completely losing it#I mean it's Anakin “I'm so dramatic and tragic watch me” Skywalker so both could apply#can just imagine a Republic officer taking a Starfleet officer on a tour through a Venator and they reach the bridge#“Ah here we are. Please don't look outside.”#“What? Why?”#“Well you can but please keep it to brief glances. No more than five minutes at a time. Or you'll lose your mind in short order.”#Maybe the only kinds of people that can stand looking into Hyperspace are Jedi and Vulcans#They see it as a mental gym#A test of their mental mettle
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@nobody33333333, I finally did it!!!
Alrighty, it has taken me ages to get around to finishing all of this, because of unfortunately unavoidable things, but I am done with the semester now and so ready to spew all of my thoughts on the unsuspecting audience of poor people who follow me.
So, without further ado, I present:
Sophie's Unhinged and Excessively Hyperactive Word-Vomit "Review" of Chapter 11 of S.O.S.
Ooooh, Curtain’s evil villain motivations for tipping the boys off balance is so sinister. It’s interesting, because he is using the same tactics he used on/around Nicholas when they were children. Just. The narrative parallels.
Garrison!!
She’s so funny. Even with all she’s been through, she sees right through Curtain to his theater kid core.
(It’s still really sad, though, because she doesn’t get why he’s trying to get her opinion and he keeps forcing her)
“For someone who was fine bypassing ethical standards to rush their timeline, Curtain still put a ridiculous amount of effort into aesthetics. Not that any of this would matter if his new messengers didn’t adapt to The Whisperer.” It just hits so hard, for some reason. Maybe because you can really understand the difference of perspective between her and Curtain.
Oh!! “psychics or telepaths”, we’re getting somewhere!
It makes a lot of sense that the Whisperer tech would pick that kind of thing up!! That’s so clever, and very much something Garrison would take into account. You are so good at putting these little details into it that give the story so much more dimension and open up a lot more paths for the characters to take.
Lindsey!!! Lindsey gets a part and can do things!! I’m so excited for her :)
Aaaaand she’s got a crush on Isaac. I can’t believe you’ve gotten me extremely invested in this as soon as I got to that line. She’s so sweet, though! I’m excited to see more of her.
And you can tell Garrison is trying to be nice, even though she’s having a breakdown fifty percent of the time and doesn’t really want to deal with teenagers.
It cracks me up that they made a full model of Reynie. Why. Just, why. Did he leave some of his clothes behind? I feel like it would have been better to make one of Kate. You can’t tell me they looked at Madge and went “Yes. I am certain that Reynie, our resident soft-hearted child who’d probably cry if he saw this bird eat a live mouse, he is the one who will be most in-tune with this child. Not Kate, no. There’s no way that the girl who was raised by a circus would be the one who will volunteer to handle the actual falcon we’re about to send to them”
I’m so proud of Number Two for breaking Madge out of a terrible zoo. 10/10 No Comments, one of the best plot points I’ve seen.
Also, this Madge perspective is so cool! Omniscient narrators don’t always remember that they can do anything, but this was a fantastic usage of it.
She’s trying so hard. Madge has made no mistakes ever she’s beautiful.
MISS PERUMAL YEAH
““Oh, Hello.” replied Nicholas awkwardly, hoping that this woman, who clearly cared about Reynie, wouldn’t notice the newly destroyed dummy that happened to be wearing one of his sweater vests.” Ajasdjgadskjl What even. He’s so silly, but that is certainly not a situation you want to be in with Miss Perumal.
I’ve said it before, but the little descriptions and dialogue tags you add to the lines from the show are so good!!! Just tiny things, like calling her “the woman” and then immediately switching to “Dipika” when she introduces herself make it so incredibly amazing. You don’t have to worry at all about it being “boring” or “redundant” because people have already seen the show.
And now we’re sad again because of Milligan. I love him but he is so full of melancholy right now :(
I love how you’ve been incorporating Mr. Benedict’s tendency to just adopt every single child into Curtain’s character. He may not be going about it properly, or for the right reasons, but he’s just as inclined to take in (abduct) children as his brother.
Isaac cameo!!
The details in how you explain all of the tech, from the Whisperer to the Waiting Room, is ingenious and thrilling to read and I am loving it!!
It just repeats people’s thoughts!! It’s not really like an AI, more of an echo chamber that can project into people’s minds, that is so neat!
Of course, Reynie is able to distance himself by thinking about Miss Perumal, that is such a good paragraph.
And the Curtain/Nicholas parallels are back again!! He’s such a contradiction; He misses his brother and wants him back, but he also can’t stand when things remind him of Nicholas. Oh boy this man needs so much therapy goodness gracious.
Good job, Reynie for being cautious!!
Oh. Oh no this is one of my least favourite bits it’s just so awkward aaahhhhhhh
“The first thing Number Two had done was quickly search Miss. Perumal’s bags for weapons, which was fine with Dipika, since she knew that Number Two wouldn’t find anything (no one ever did).” This is why she’s one of the best characters ever. I did really like the book version, of course, but I also love the way they changed her into Pink Biker Vigilante Mom.
AAAHHHH YOUR WAY OF DESCRIBING HER THOUGHTS IS SO COOL. “Dipika Perumal had met people who wanted to hurt children. She had met people who hated children, who even enjoyed hurting them. She knew what that looked like in a person, you could see it in their faces. And she could see that Mr. Benedict and his companions were not those people. But just because they didn’t enjoy hurting children didn’t mean they wouldn’t use them, and it didn’t mean they weren’t up to anything nefarious.” YES. OH MY WORD SO GOOD.
Also Mr. Benedict being like “Yes, if I tell this lady that my recently discovered twin brother is behind all of this, it will definitely give me credibility. This is the best option”
There’s something about Number Two fixating on the food as a way to enter the conversation/be sure that if something goes wrong she’ll be there that rings very true to me. She anxious about this, and she wants to protect Mr. Benedict and exert some kind of control because she couldn’t keep the house from being broken into and now they’re in the woods and she can’t keep Rhonda from wanting to quit and she couldn’t keep Miss Perumal from finding them and the only thing she can control right now is the stuff she makes with her own hands and she’s scared that she’s falling behind because of all her failures and you can feel that she just needs to do something. You do a good job of portraying that.
CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MAKING ME CRY OVER THESE CHARACTERS????? FOR FIVE SECONDS???? OH MY WORD
And poor Sticky is ashamed of admitting that he’s afraid of not being wanted, like he thinks he isn’t even worth being upset about how he’s been treated.
It’s been kind of intriguing to see Curtain’s feelings about Reynie and Sticky slowly switch.
And now we’re back to Mr. Benedict’s questionable attempts to explain himself. Why on earth would she need background for the information you just dropped on her about your brother? That certainly wasn’t something to be expected.
AKJFshad;asdfg Number Two just casually going “He’s narcoleptic, it’s fine. Please continue to enjoy your food” and the way you write Miss Perumal’s reaction!! She’s so baffled but she adapts, as she does.
Oh goodness, she thinks he’s crazy. I feel so bad for him because he’s had such awful experiences with that, but also from her perspective it’s totally justified.
I love how she initially was trying to be nice and not trigger him but immediately forgoes this to yell at him about sending children into an underground secret tunnel.
HILDEGARD
NO, OH, HILDEGARD. Sad :(
“Garrison tried to believe that it was for the best. The helpers were happy at the Institute, which was more than she could say for herself.” Please, I will bake you muffins if you stop destroying me like this :((((
AND SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS THAT SHE’S HURT PEOPLE (And herself) IN THE PAST. BUT SHE CAN’T REMEMBER.
Oh my. He feels so guilty about how they might have hurt Milligan. And he’s so alone in that.
AND SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS THAT SHE’S HURT PEOPLE (And herself) IN THE PAST. BUT SHE CAN’T REMEMBER.
Oh my. He feels so guilty about how they might have hurt Milligan. And he’s so alone in that.
She knows!! She sees the button and that whole paragraph looking into how she feels about the situation and how she fought Curtain to avoid brainsweeping the children is bone-chilling I don’t know how you managed to make us feel that way when I know what’s going to happen it’s nuts how good at this you are.
Their decaying dynamic is driving me up a wall. She doesn’t get why Curtain cares about her, but she’s using it to her advantage, all the while Curtain’s still manipulating her, but he’s trying to do it in the least malicious way possible. (And he’s failing)
“the shock of Curtain realizing the situation she was imagining. A world where they were actually held accountable for what they were doing.”
Garrison’s little dive into Curtain’s weird delusions is very interesting. He really is unsettling, because he isn’t some mastermind who spends all his time distracting people from his real intentions, he’s spending just as much time trying to convince himself of what he’s telling others that he can’t see clearly anymore.
I really appreciate how you give Miss Perumal her own opinions and personality, but you keep her thoughts directed at Reynie. That’s a tough balance.
The narrative tension in the details of how Dipika leaves thinking that Mr. B and Co aren’t intentionally hurting people, but should be stopped nonetheless, and she doesn’t see how badly she’s shaken him is so good!!
More Perumal backstory!!!
SQ!!!!
Oh, this is one of my favourite scenes in the show, just for the lines and the mirror shots and everything, I’m so excited to see your take
Aw yeah, this is brilliant.
Let him go to college!!!! Let him do the things!! Let him do his art!!!
He wants his dad to be proud!! He’s trying so hard to frame it positively, but Curtain’s a wacko and he isn’t going to let him :(
Let him have his confidence!! He could so definitely do it, I’m so sad :(
Garrison: “Hmm, I’m going to have a look at my readings, so I can maybe hypothesise about how I could possibly find the child” The Readings: “She was in your lab, you weirdo”
Wait. WHAT????? WHAT IS THIS, BODS????? EXCUSE ME???? I MEAN, I KNOW THIS FIC IS AMAZING AND I LOVE IT BUT WHAT????? I DIDN’T EXPECT THAT TO COME OUT OF NOWHERE AND HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS
Please don’t go and put your liver in jeopardy again, Doc. I don’t think anyone can take much more of that.
AJKSFhakjsgh You always manage to come swinging out of the blue with your chapter conclusions. Goodness. I think I need to go sit down, but I still have another chapter to read and I don’t know if I can wait!!
#I tried to keep it brief(er) this time#I also think I figured out how to circumvent the character limit thing by inserting random breaks so we'll see how that goes#I've learned my lesson though and have all this saved on a doc so I can just copy-paste it over again if Tumblr decides to eat it#But we'll see about the next chapter#I'm already working on that but I wanted to post this as soon as I was able because I couldn't wait#I cannot BELIEVE how talented y'all are at writing#It drives me crazy in the good way to read through this fic#And I love every second of it#Okay I'm going to stop now and go work on one of the many many other projects I've got in store#s.o.s.#And if you saw this a minute ago it's because while I loopholed the word count it doesn't let me edit mistakes after so whoops
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i still think about countryhumans btw its mostly just worldbuilding shit now. i love worldbuilding
#essen talks#morocco keeps getting revived in different time periods and its freaking her out. nobody has any idea whats going on#allied-occupied germany existed briefly in the real world but merely a vessel for east and west to fester within. perhaps he was a brief-#revival of weimar i think that would be funny#speaking of weimar i believe that in his final few months of living he began acting more and more like tr and so when tr finally “took over#nobody even batted an eye. they only realized weimar died over a decade ago when tr finally killed himself and the body refused to-#auto-disintigrate. which freaked out everyone btw#while the warsaw pact was supposed to die july 1st‚ she stuck around to welcome the ussr to the afterlife. the higherups couldnt decide-#which patron continental principality would greet him and so unlike tradition‚ a lower angel stepped up. she disintegrated immediately afte#i should probably talk about the organization angels more actualyl#the “angels” in this universe are just organizations. they know their lifespan the second they are created and mainly keep things in order.#when they die they disintegrate back into the void and leave behind a gem to be given to the last country that saw them alive.#angel death is rather beautiful to countries. its sort of like stained glass idk how to describe it#anyways rambling over byeee
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I know Engage is almost upon us but thanks to you being gone for so long we never got to hear your thoughts on 3H! So……….character rankings👀👀👀👀👀👀 thoughts on the game itself👀👀👀👀👀
My dear Anon, I'm so sorry I took so long to answer this ask, especially since Engage is released now! But yeah, it's a shame I never did get a chance to state my thoughts on 3H so I might as well get into here! Better late than never, right? Also, I'm actually kinda glad I'm only getting to it now, since I feel like I've had a good amount of time to really get my thoughts together. Certain opinions I have are pretty different compared to what I would've said had you asked me my thoughts a few weeks after release or even within the first year I was part of the fandom! Also, for the sake of trying not to let this post show up in certain character tags, I’m gonna try to avoid name dropping characters.
Overall Thoughts
Despite all the discourse and nonsense of the past few years, I really did enjoy my time in Fodlan! I got the game on day one and I’ve logged several hundred hours into it! I have two completed save files for each of the four routes, one no recruit run and one recruit everyone run. I recently started up a meme run for the Blue Lions where I’m gonna have everyone specialize in weaknesses only/whatever their stats mesh the worst with. For my own sanity I’m just gonna stick with the Lions and the Church folk only for this run or I’ll drive myself nuts trying to work on this with everybody! But maybe I’ll do separate meme runs for the other routes in the future? Anyways, back to the point. I think the story was overall enjoyable but I felt like there was too much left unsaid or left “up to interpretation” instead of stated outright, which ended up fueling a fair amount of discourse to this very day. And that did sour my overall experience. But I enjoyed a fair number of the characters. Though I think I’ve made it clear by now I’m a Blue Lions fan so they’re my babies! Hopes was similar in that I had a fun time and, this is coming from someone who DOES like our dear mercenary friend Billy, I think I enjoyed how our Hopes mercenary friend was handled better (at least character wise, plot wise it could’ve been better). I don’t know, I just don’t think Billy was used well as a “silent protagonist”, and personally I don’t think silent protagonists work well in Fire Emblem games. My only big issue with Hopes is the weird choices they made when it comes to portraying certain characters or how far they wanted to go just to make certain other characters look good or innocent or whatever.
Gameplay Thoughts
I’m a character girl first so gameplay isn’t really what I care much about but I do still have some thoughts. I really like that you can make any unit into almost any class! Sucks they still have some gender locked classes though, but it’s super fun to try out new things. And, like I brought up earlier, it makes for some great meme/challenge runs! I have mixed feelings on the exploring the monastery section in that it felt like too much and too little at once. Too much in that there’s a ton of space to explore but too little in that I feel like much of that space doesn’t really get used so I just feel like I’m walking around for no real reason. And in my no recruit runs I really got hit post timeskip with how EMPTY it was. I also felt like the calendar mechanic seemed kinda...pointless? Well, I guess more that it didn’t seem to work well. Gambits and battling the monsters was fun enough. For Hopes specifically, it was my first dip into a Warriors style game since the other FEW game didn’t get my attention, and I really had a ton of fun with it! It’s fun trying out everyone’s different fighting styles and getting used to them. Plus there’s something weirdly relaxing about just running around kicking the asses of crowds of mooks. Though I felt like support grinding was even more tedious in Hopes than in 3H...
Route Related Thoughts
I felt that AM and AG were the strongest written routes of 3H and Hopes respectively. While I do have certain issues with both (particularly a certain endgame decision in the AG route), I think focusing on the characters most and making the lore take a backseat made everything far more powerful and enjoyable. These routes take the most after classic Fire Emblem stories but I don’t see it as a bad thing at all! I liked that each of the Lions were interesting takes on classic Fire Emblem tropes. The growth of our complex and sympathetic leader, the interesting deconstruction and reconstruction of classic Fire Emblem stories and characters, and possibly the best use of Billy in the story really made AM work well! As for AG, it’s much of the same, but with the added bonus of having the other Lions taking more active roles in the plot. Plus I really enjoyed the chemistry between a certain Savior King and purple haired mercenary, which much like with Billy, really worked well with the story by making me connect with the bond between characters first.
VW is a route I consider kinda okay. As someone who usually enjoys lore stuff, I just found this route boring. It didn’t help that I felt a lot of the story beats seemed tacked on. Especially the end boss. Honestly the only saving grace for this route for me was that I found the Deer as characters, especially their charismatic leader, to be really likable! On the other hand we have GW. I’ve seen numerous people put their thoughts in on why this route fails and personally that is my own opinion too. It has a pretty interesting start but then decides to take both the story and the characters in such bizarre and frankly just plain stupid directions that I couldn’t wait to finish the route out of pure frustration. It also turned the main lord from someone who I really liked in 3H to someone who I couldn’t STAND in Hopes. It’s a miracle it didn’t permanently negatively impact my view of the guy.
CF was....well I’ll definitely try to limit my thoughts here for my own sake. But basically I found I enjoyed it most when I decided to turn my brain off and just entertained myself with all the different angst options it offers. But yeah, it’s a route where sometimes I just didn’t know what sort of tone they wanted to go for or how they wanted me to take certain moments. It didn’t help that sometimes the mood would change so suddenly I was left just being like “huh????” CF came across as a route where there were several ideas that could’ve been interesting or certain plot points that you’d think would be tackled as it’d make the most sense right? But those moments are either not used to their full potential or passed over with no rhyme or reason. The less I say about the route’s center of controversy leader, the better but I originally found her enjoyable in theory rather in practice as a result of said missed potential, but nowadays I can’t stand her much. But that’s mostly thanks to a very frustrating (to put it politely) portion of her fanbase. SB was pretty much more of the same so my thoughts on CF apply here too. One thing I will say is that the finale made me actually laugh out loud. If someone had told me how SB route ended before I played it myself, I’d take it for a silly meme you’d usually find in fandoms. But nope, that’s actually how the writers chose to have it end...Incredible...
I can’t believe I almost forgot SS....But that basically is the issue isn’t it. I think SS as a route suffers from not having a certain Archbishop take the lord role over. And it doesn’t help that it and VW share the majority of story beats. I heard some mention the SS’s final boss and VW’s should be swapped and personally? With a few other story changes I agree that it’s probably work much better that way! Sorry this paragraph is so short compared to what I said for the other routes but I don’t really have many thoughts on SS compared to the others. I think it does it’s job fine enough and, while I don’t care for how it did it’s final boss, I at least enjoyed it better than VW’s.
Character Ranking
I found a tier list that included 3H and Hopes characters so I didn't have to make two separate ones, so here's my character rankings! I feel like they're basically self explanatory but if you have any questions about any of my rankings, just ask and I'll be happy to explain! Also you'll notice a couple of characters I used both the 3H and the Hopes version of in the list. That was only for major characters for who my opinion was DRASTICALLY different for one game versus the other. Otherwise these rankings match my opinion of the character as a result of both games (but primarily 3H to be honest)!
#story time with me#sorry if this ended up being WAAAAAY more than you asked for anon!#I wanted to get all my thoughts out there in one post#I could've gone way more for the route specific thoughts section but I felt#I'd end up repeating myself too much so I decided to keep things brief enough#I also tried my best to avoid as many names in the post itself as possible so it doesn't#accidentally end up in certain character tags#but I need my own blog to be organized so I wanted to get past that whole first five tags show up in tag search limit#before I bothered to tag the game for my own organizational purposes and so here we are!!!#fire emblem three houses#fire emblem three hopes
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#there's healing in November!!#been repeating it like a mantra#idk maybe because I'm still learning to be around people but in some way I feel a bit closer#instead of being quiet and reserved like I usually am I decided to initiate in talking with my new coworker at work#because I feel I wasn't doing my part in being open? friendly? and I needed to try at least#it was last week or the week before when I finally did#and it went great!! (:#he was reserved too unless spoken to at times lol#he was fun to talk with and we had a few interests in common#it was pretty nice and I'm just happy it was a good convo#and just a few days but I saw an old coworker who used to work at the library when I was walking to campus#I wouldn't have turned around if he didnt roll down his window and said something he used to say before 😭#it was brief but monumental to me and just made my day honeslty#and the same day there was this guy who I would sometimes see whenever I was walking around on campus and would struck up a conversation#with me#at first it was strange because he would speak as if we were friends but after encountering each other and talking a bit it was easy to#talk with him#in fact after that last convo I now wish to be his friend lmaoo💀#I cant help but feel the moment of when I'll look back as I'm looking back at these conversations and memories#i think I'm just grateful? thankful to have made it this far...#yes I'm going through#there's so much to look forward to and to keep going!! (':
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