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nyxshadowhawk · 2 years ago

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I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Four

Here are the previous parts:

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726120109073104896/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726261927846772736/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726476229805473792/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

Chapter 7: Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor In which the peace is disturbed by conspiracy theories and shiny objects.

Fëanor decides to preserve the light of the Two Trees of Valinor… you know, in case anything ever happens to them. Somehow, using all of his knowledge and power and craftsmanship, he captures their light and uses it to create THE SILMARILS! The Silmarils are the biggest, brightest, and most beautiful gemstones in the history of Elfkind. No one but Fëanor knows what they’re made of (and at this point in time, he isn’t exactly in a position to tell anyone), but they look like diamonds and are completely unbreakable. Just as the bodies of the Children of Ilúvatar are shells for the soul, the crystal that composes the Silmarils is a shell for the light of the Two Trees — literally, the stones are actually alive. They are like three stars.

Silmarils of Fëanor by Nikulina-Helena

Side note — this isn’t technically in the text of The Silmarillion, it’s from Unfinished Tales, but I have to mention it because it’s hilarious — Fëanor got the idea to preserve the light of the Trees because Galadriel wouldn’t give him her hair. Here’s the relevant part of Unfinished Tales:

Even among the Eldar she was accounted beautiful, and her hair was held a marvel unmatched. It was golden like the hair of her father and of her foremother Indis, but richer and more radiant, for its gold was touched by some memory of the starlike silver of her mother; and the Eldar said that the light of the Two Trees, Laurelin and Telperion, had been snared in her tresses. Many thought that this saying first gave to Fëanor the thought of imprisoning and blending the light of the Trees that later took shape in his hands as the Silmarils. For Fëanor beheld the hair of Galadriel with wonder and delight. He begged three times for a tress, but Galadriel would not give him even one hair. These two kinsfolk, the greatest of the Eldar of Valinor, were unfriends for ever. […] there dwelt in her the noble and generous spirit of the Vanyar, and a reverence for the Valar that she could not forget. From her earliest years she had a marvellous gift of insight into the minds of others, but judged them with mercy and understanding, and she withheld her goodwill from none save only Fëanor. In him she perceived a darkness that she hated and feared, though she did not perceive that the shadow of the same evil had fallen upon the minds of all the Noldor, and upon her own.

So, just to reiterate: Galadriel is wise and benevolent and loves everyone except Fëanor, because Fëanor is just that much of an arrogant asshole. So when Fëanor asks her for her hair, she basically tells him where he can stick it, and he goes, “Well fine! I didn’t need your hair anyway! I’m going to make gems that are even prettier and shinier than your hair, and then everyone will be jealous!” And that is why it’s such a big deal that Galadriel grants Gimli’s much humbler request for her hair. Gimli may be a dwarf, but he’s actually a good person!

Anyway, everyone is impressed by the Silmarils, even the Valar themselves. Varda, the goddess of the stars, blessed them so that nothing evil could touch them.

Now, I already said that Melkor lusted for all the shiny things that the Noldor had dug up, so how do you think he reacted when he saw the Silmarils? Oh, you’d better believe he wanted those gems more than anything else in the world. He concocted an evil plan to sew as much discord between the Elves and the Valar as possible, and to destroy Fëanor in the process. Unfortunately, enough of the Elves start to listen to his rumors. They start to believe that the Valar brought them to Valinor to stop them from ruling kingdoms of their own. Melkor also told the Elves about the eventual coming of Men, which the Elves knew nothing about. Melkor didn’t know much about Men either, but it was enough to spread a conspiracy theory that Manwë was holding the Elves hostage in Valinor so that Men could take over the world, cheating the Elves out of their God-given inheritance. The Noldor start to want to go back East, to be free of the Valar’s influence so they can start building kingdoms of their own and establishing themselves before the Men come.

Fëanor especially is desperate to get out of Valinor, which is exactly what Melkor wanted, because this was all just a ploy to get the Silmarils. But Fëanor is just as obsessive about them, keeping them locked deep in his “horde” (as though he’s a dragon), except when he parades around wearing them during feasts. He doesn’t let anyone see them, except for his father and his sons. He’s already started to forget that the entire point of them was to preserve the light of the Trees of Valinor, and not just to glorify himself.

Fëanor by dakkun39

Melkor starts to zero in on his mark. He spreads a new lie that Fingolfin, Fëanor’s brother, was planning to supplant him as Finwë’s heir. And to Fingolfin, he says that Fëanor has always hated his half-brothers and plans to kick them out of the city of Tirion.

As the unrest brews, Melkor teaches the Noldor how to make weapons. Each family of Noldor believes that only they know about the weapons, and that none of the other families do. Meanwhile, Fëanor makes a secret forge to experiment with crafting weapons, so he and his family can have especially dangerous ones. Even Melkor didn’t know about that, that was all Fëanor. Mahtan, Fëanor’s father-in-law, bitterly regretted having taught him anything about metalwork.

Fëanor openly calls for revolution against the Valar, and escaping back East. That crosses a line. Finwë holds court and asks his lords what he should do. Fingolfin asks him, “Why are you letting Fëanor call all the shots? He’s not King. You’re the King. You tell him to stop!” Fëanor promptly bursts through the doors and struts up to the podium, armed to the teeth. He draws his sword on Fingolfin and tells him to fuck off. Fingolfin hastily bows to Finwë and gets the hell out of there before his own brother murders him on the house floor. Fëanor follows him and starts taunting him. Fingolfin has the good sense not to respond.

By Jenny Dolfen

Now the Valar get involved. They were sad about the Noldor wanting to leave, but whatever Melkor might say, the Valar weren’t about to keep them there against their will. This, though? This is a step too far. They summon Fëanor to stand trial before them. During the trial, it’s finally revealed that Melkor, not Fëanor, is ultimately to blame for all the unrest. Tulkas doesn’t even wait for the trial to be over to go and put Melkor’s lights out. Meanwhile Mandos (the god of death/purgatory) delivers his judgement on Fëanor: “If you’re our ‘thralls,’ then I hate to break this to you, but Manwë is the king of all of Arda, not just Valinor. So… going back East isn’t going to help you very much. Threatening to kill your brother is still a crime whether here or in Middle-earth, so I sentence you to exile from the city of Tirion for twelve years. Go and think about what you did! Then, after your time-out is over, if your family forgives you, we’ll let you back in.”

Fingolfin speaks up to say that he already forgives Fëanor, which is very charitable of him. But Fëanor just sulks and stalks off. Honestly, he’s had it easy — he hasn’t even been asked to leave Valinor, only to leave the city! He leaves with his seven sons and founds his own fortress, Formenos, some distance from Tirion, where he hoards all his gems and weapons and other sparkly things (including the Silmarils). Finwë loves Fëanor so much that he leaves his own city to be with Fëanor, and Fingolfin becomes king of Tirion in his place. So, in the end, Melkor’s lie became a self-fulfilling prophecy: Fingolfin did become King of the Noldor instead of Fëanor, not because of any treachery on his part, but because of Fëanor’s shitty behavior. Nice going, Fëanor.

Melkor lays low for a while, disguised as a cloud. No one hears anything of him for a bit, but the Trees look slightly darker and the shadows slightly more ominous. Suddenly, he turns up on Fëanor’s doorstep and pretends to be friends, using the self-fulfilling prophecy to his advantage to make it sound like everything he’s said so far is true. Melkor offers to help Fëanor leave Valinor. Fëanor still thinks that Melkor is kind of sus, but Melkor gets to him by mentioning the Silmarils, and how they won’t be safe as long as Fëanor stays in Valinor. Unfortunately for Melkor, he showed his hand too soon. Fëanor finally sees that the Silmarils are what Melkor’s really been after this whole time. He screams the equivalent of “Get the fuck out of my house!” and slams the door in the face of what is technically the most powerful being on Arda. Melkor runs off with his tail between his legs, but Finwë recognizes that this isn’t over, and calls for Manwë’s help. Manwë and the other Valar chase Melkor to the edge of Valinor, and everything is suddenly fine for a while… the Trees are bright again, and Melkor is nowhere to be seen, but not knowing where he is might actually be worse. The people of Valinor can feel him lurking on the edge of the horizon.

Fëanor and Silmarils by breath-art

Chapter 8: Of the Darkening of Valinor In which everything goes to hell.

The Valar assume that Melkor returned to his old fortress in the north, but they didn’t find him there. Instead, Melkor shapeshifted and slunk southwards, to a shadowy land called Avathar. He was going to visit… an old friend, shall we say.

If you think Shelob is bad, you haven’t met her mother.

By John Howe

Ungoliant isn’t just a spider, she’s an eldritch abomination that happens to take the form of a spider. Even the Valar don’t really know where she came from, and she managed to escape them by hiding in the south where they weren’t turning their attention. She weaves webs that suck in all the light around them. Melkor takes the form of a tall Dark Lord and tells Ungoliant that he will feed her whatever she wants in exchange for her help in conquering Valinor (although at this point, you should already know that when Melkor promises anything, it’s with his fingers crossed behind his back). Ungoliant agrees, and they decide to attack while the people of Valinor are celebrating a harvest festival. Because whenever anysort of disaster happens, it’s when everyone is unsuspectingly having a party.

Fëanor sulkily attends the festival, only because Manwë literally ordered him to be there, but the other elves of his household (including Finwë) don’t show up. Fëanor also deliberately underdresses for the party; instead of parading around with the Silmarils like he used to, he decided that the Valar didn’t deserve to see them, and kept them locked up in his castle. Fëanor reconciles with his half-brother Fingolfin right in front of Manwë’s throne, and may even have been sincere! The Trees shine with a perfect blend of silver and gold… for the last time.

The poor Elves and the Valar barely have time to react. Melkor leaps on top of the sacred mound and strikes each Tree through with his spear, and Ungoliant drinks up all the sap that gushes out of them like blood, and they quickly wither and die. Then Ungoliant drinks up all the well water, and she looks so huge and bloated that even Melkor is afraid of her.

And… that’s it. Just like that, it’s over. The Trees are dead. The resulting darkness is almost a palpable thing that can attack the body and soul. The Valar and all the Elves gathered in Manwë’s palace are thunderstruck as the lights suddenly go out, and then, they hear the screams of the Teleri, who have had nothing to do with this whole mess and had no idea that there was any unrest in Valinor to begin with. You know what I’m reminded of? That scene in The Prince of Egypt when God kills the firstborn of every Egyptian household, and there’s a shot of Orion, a beat of silence, and then a wail of grief and despair goes up.

Manwë sends the Valar to chase after Melkor, but they can’t penetrate Ungoliant’s cloud of darkness, and it’s too late. The damage was done.

By Titita

Chapter 9: Of the Flight of the Noldor In which the Valar have finally had enough of Fëanor’s bullshit.

Valinor is left in shock. Yavanna tries in vain to heal the Trees, but they are dead, and there’s nothing she can do… unless she had a little of the light of the Trees, which Fëanor fortunately preserved in the Silmarils. Manwë asks Fëanor if he will give Yavanna a Silmaril. Fëanor whines that just as the Trees were Yavanna’s masterpiece, the Silmarils are his masterpiece, and if he breaks any one of them, he’ll be the first of the Elves to die. Mandos mutters that he wouldn’t be the first, since his mother Míriel died, but no one takes his meaning.

Fëanor goes off to sulk, and remembers what Melkor said: that the Valar want the Silmarils, and will do anything to get them. Now they’re asking him to give them one. Fëanor concludes that because Melkor, a Vala, is such a shitty person, then all the other Valar must be the same. He tells the Valar that he will not give them a Silmaril, and that if they try to take one from him by force, then that will prove that they really are just as bad as Melkor.

That’s that, then. Because Fëanor is such a selfish asshole, the Trees are not healed, and there’s nothing left to do but to mourn. Nienna, the goddess of sorrow, stands on top of the mound where the Trees used to be and laments the scarring of Arda, letting her tears wash away the destruction caused by Ungoliant and Melkor.

Then Elves from Formenos, Fëanor’s fortress, arrive to tell the Valar about another of Melkor’s crimes: He broke into Formenos, murdered Finwë, and stole everything that was in Fëanor’s treasure horde. The Silmarils are gone. Fëanor is enraged, firstly because the Silmarils are gone, secondly because he was at Manwë’s stupid party instead of defending his castle, and thirdly because his beloved father is dead. This is when he first calls Melkor by the name Morgoth (which is what he’ll be called for the rest of the Silmarillion).

History might have been different if Fëanor had originally said yes to Yavanna’s request, before learning that Morgoth had stolen the Silmarils. We can’t know.

Meanwhile Morgoth and Ungoliant take the long way back to Middle-earth. Morgoth hopes to eventually escape from Ungoliant, because even he’s afraid of her, but she catches on. She tells Morgoth that she’s still hungry, and she wants to eat all the treasure he stole from Formenos. So Morgoth, begrudgingly, feeds her all of Fëanor’s beautiful gemstones. All but three, that is. The Silmarils literally burn Morgoth’s hand, because Varda made them evil-proof, but he grips them tightly and refuses to give them to her. He’s a lot weaker than he should be because he lent Ungoliant so much of his power, and she weaves a web of darkness to strangle him. Melkor screams so loud that his screaming can still be heard in that region to this day. Deep beneath the ruins of Angband, the Balrogs still lurked, and when they heard their Lord cry for help, they came to save him. Let’s just reiterate that: Ungoliant is so evil that Morgoth, who’s like Sauron but worse, needed Balrogs to save him from her.

By Sheppi-Arthouse

Ungoliant fled, and lurked for some time in a dark valley where she mated with other spider-creatures and ate their heads. No one knows what happened to her after that. She might still be out there, but one legend says that eventually, in her eternal hunger, she ate herself.

Morgoth rebuilds Angband, amasses his armies of Balrogs and Orcs, and gives himself the modest title of “King of the World.” He forges himself an iron crown and sets the three Silmarils in it. But his hands are permanently burned by having held them, and he can never take off the crown. He stews in his hatred, and vents his humiliation at the eight spidery legs of Ungoliant by abusing his minions. Despite how pathetic that near-defeat was, Melkor is still technically a Vala, and is so terrifying in his majesty that no one can even be near him without being consumed by fear.

By NeexSethe

Back in Valinor, everyone is depressed. Then Fëanor shows up and gives a rousing speech to the Noldor, mostly condemning Morgoth, but also repeating all of the lies that Morgoth had spread about the Valar. Fëanor declares himself King of the Noldor since his father is dead (which isn’t anything like what Morgoth just did), and persuades the Noldor that they shouldn’t live under the Valar’s rule anymore. After all, the Valar failed to keep out Morgoth, and they’re related to him so they must be partly to blame for his actions. Fëanor doesn’t want to be anywhere near the distant cousins of the guy who killed his father. Also, look at the greener grass back in Middle-earth where the Noldor can build an empire for themselves! They can become a warlike people, and conquer Middle-earth before the Men come! Fëanor throws some racial supremacy into the mix and says that once the Noldor have waged war on Morgoth and taken back the Silmarils, they alone will be the lords of the last remaining Light.

Then Fëanor and his sons draw their swords and swear an oath that they will hunt to the ends of the earth any creature — Vala, Demon, Elf, or Man — who possesses a Silmaril.

By Jenny Dolfen

Despite having just disavowed the Valar, this oath is still sworn with the gods and their sacred mountain as witnesses, so… old religious habits die hard.

Immediately, unrest erupts among the Noldor. Fingolfin and his son Turgon are horrified, Finarfin (Fëanor’s other brother) tries to calm everything down, and Galadriel (the only woman there) likes the idea of seeing Middle-earth and ruling a realm of her own. Fëanor’s side of the debate eventually wins, and the Noldor depart for Middle-earth. Fëanor hurries them out of there before they have the chance to change their minds.

Of course, the remaining problem is that Fëanor can’t simply declare himself king so easily. Fingolfin has been King of the Noldor ever since Fëanor was exiled from the city, and most of the Noldor are still loyal to him. He’s also level-headed and kind, whereas Fëanor is a hot mess. Fingolfin doesn’t want to leave Valinor, but accepts that he doesn’t have much of a choice, because he doesn’t want to abandon his people. Also, his son Fingon is urging him to go. Finarfin is even less willing to leave, but follows Fingolfin anyway for similar reasons.

By BellaBergolts

As the Noldor are leaving, a messenger arrives from Manwë. He says that the Valar won’t prevent the Noldor from leaving, since the Elves are free to do whatever they want, but that the Valar strongly advise against it. But Fëanor and his family are explicitly exiled from Valinor, on account of their oath. The messenger emphasizes that Fëanor is right — Melkor is a Vala —which is exactly why Fëanor and co. stand no chance against him or against any of the other Valar. So, the oath is impossible to fulfill. That sucks, because oaths are serious business, and once you’ve made an oath, you can’t simply disregard it. Fëanor has basically condemned himself and all of his sons to an impossible, borderline-blasphemous and utterly hubristic venture. Nice going, Fëanor.

Of course, Fëanor gives a typical arrogant response, urging the Noldor not to send their king into exile and “return to bondage.” He says to the messenger, “Go tell Manwë that even if I can’t beat Morgoth, at least I’m gonna try, instead of sitting on my sorry ass and grieving! My battle with Morgoth is gonna be so legendary that one day the Valar will realize I was right!” Fëanor is so intimidating that even the messenger of Manwë bows to him in response. And so, the Noldor leave into exile — some boldly and without looking back, some very reluctantly.

They quickly run into the first big problem: How do they get to Middle-earth? Fëanor first tries to follow Melkor and go north, to cross the narrow strip of land that connects the two continents. But realistically, there’s no way that an entire nation’s worth of people are going to cover that distance. The other option is to cross the sea itself, but the only way to do that is with ships, and the Noldor don’t know how to build them. Fëanor decides to persuade the Teleri to join his company, which would get them the ships they need — and spitefully, Fëanor hopes to further dismantle Valinor and gain himself more soldiers for his war against Morgoth.

The Teleri are sad that their friends are leaving, and completely unwilling to lend them any ships or go against the will of the Valar. Olwë, the King of the Teleri, never heard any of Morgoth’s conspiracy theories, so everything Fëanor says sounds completely insane. You can imagine how well that went over with Fëanor. He’s like, “You owe us because we helped you build your city! You stragglers would still be living in mud huts if it weren’t for us!” Olwë points out that friends don’t let friends make such stupid decisions, that the plan was to live together in Valinor forever, and that the Noldor didn’t teach the Teleri shipbuilding. They learned to build ships on their own, directly from the sea gods, and don’t owe the Noldor anything. The Teleri feel the same way about their ships as Fëanor does about his jewels — they’re unique masterpieces, and can never be replicated.

Fëanor doesn’t take no for an answer, and tries to take the ships by force. The Teleri fight back. What follows is the first large-scale battle between Elves. It’s brutal and sad — there’s deaths on both sides, but the Noldor win and steal the precious ships away. (Don’t ask me how the Noldor know how to sail the ships — sailing isn’t exactly a skill that one can just pick up.) Olwë calls upon Ossë, the Maia of the Waves, but he doesn’t come, because the Valar swore to neither help nor hinder the Noldor’s departure. But Uinen, the Maia of sea life, is so distraught over the cruel deaths of the Teleri mariners that she wrecks several of the ships.

By Ted Nasmith

When the Noldor reach the shore, a dark figure rises up from the cold mountains. Some say the figure was Mandos himself. He pronounces the “Prophecy of the North”: Anyone who’s studied pagan mythology knows that kinslaying is just about the worst thing you can do, so now all the Noldor are exiled, not just Fëanor and his sons. But Fëanor has well and truly brought down the wrath of the Valar upon his head. They’ve given him enough second chances. Now, his oath isn’t just useless — it’s actively a curse that will destroy his family, drive them to evil and treason, and keep the Silmarils forever just out of reach. After they die — and they will die, despite the immortality granted to them by Eru Ilúvatar — their souls will return to the Halls of Mandos as ghosts. The Noldor who don’t die will slowly diminish, and watch their own power fade as the other races gradually supplant them, leaving them with nothing but regret.

Mandos by marcelamedeiros_arts

Don’t let anyone tell you that Tolkien’s Elves are all perfect beings who are prettier, wiser, more magical, and otherwise superior to everyone else. The reason why all the Elves of the LotR fit that description is because only the wise Elves last that long. All the arrogant, hotheaded, and power-hungry Elves don’t make it to the Third Age because they’ve all killed each other by then.

Case in point, Fëanor responds to this imposing figure pronouncing the wrath of the gods with his typical arrogance, insisting that he and his family are not cowards and that treason is just another evil that they’ll have to deal with. And, as an extra “fuck you,” that everyone will sing of their deeds until the end of the world.

At that, Finarfin turns back. He never actually wanted to leave Valinor, he hates that the battle ruined his friendship with Olwë, and he’s deeply resentful towards the House of Fëanor for having caused this whole mess. He and his people receive the Valar’s forgiveness, and return to their beautiful city of Tirion. Finarfin rules over the Noldor that returned with him, but without his children, because they didn’t turn back. They wanted to stay with Fingolfin’s sons, Fingon and Turgon, and they aren’t the sort of people to abandon a task halfway, so they continue on.

Fëanor, Fingolfin, and the other Noldor reach the far north, where the continents of Aman and Middle-earth meet. They’re cold, hungry, and don’t know which way to go next. Some of the Elves are starting to catch on that Fëanor and his propaganda is the cause of all their trouble. Fëanor is already starting to fear treachery, so he takes his sons and all the ships, and straight-up abandons Fingolfin and his people to freeze to death. Fëanor becomes the first Noldor Elf to set foot on Middle-earth.

Maedhros, Fëanor’s eldest son, asks him if he’ll send any ships back for Fingolfin’s people (specifically Fingon). Fëanor laughs at his son, calls his brother and nephews and all their people “worthless baggage,” and then burns the ships. Maedhros just stands aside and lets him do it. (I’m guessing that the inability of Fëanor’s kids to stand up to their father is going to become a recurring source of conflict.) So, the curse has already come into effect.

The Burning of the Ships by Ted Nasmith

In spite of Fëanor, Fingolfin and his company pass through the icy wastes in the farthest north, and eventually reach Middle-earth, though they lost many along the way. The narrator tells us straight-up that few of the deeds of the Noldor will ever surpass that desperate crossing.

We're a quarter of the way through!

Next part: https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/738735962858897408/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

63 notes · View notes

chrysanthemumgames · 6 months ago

Note

I have a little question. See, I haven't played the released version of FoA. I don't have the money. But I did play the demo fully, and I remember there was an option for height on there. I don't know if it's still present on the full game (reason why I mentioned I haven't played it), since I know there are differences between the original demo and the released version.

I played the demo for the sequel. It did go towards some plot points I missed on the first game (mostly who MC's father is). And I mentioned the height customization thing because of a particular scene on the new demo. When entering the tent, the father (I don't remember the exact spelling, so I'm just going to call him that), mentions Hades height and how the tent is not the best place to host him. Well, on the FoA demo I remember I had my MC be almost as tall as Hades. So, while I understand height wasn't on the small character creator and therefore is not being tracked, it did make me stop for a moment while I was reading. Silly, I know.

So, I was wondering if this is some small piece of flavor text that is going to be added in a future update? Assuming height is still a thing on these games.

If not, I understand. After all height didn't seem to be that relevant overall. And the focus of your writing is often more on the emotional side of the characters than on the physical (although is weird to see after the Hades-Charon training scene with an MC who romanced Hades, but life is funny that way).

I just... Well, I had some ideas of how the father would react to different heights because of the tent scene I mentioned. Which is a bit ridiculous and extremely specific, perhaps. Yet, it had the potential to have the wholesomeness I often recognize in your writing.

In any case, I hope you have a nice day! Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer. Or if you thought this was a bit rude. Hopefully I wasn't, but you never know how well you express your tone in writing.

Anyway, congrats on releasing the demo for the second book.

Hey anon,

Height is still a thing. I didn't include a specific check there because the height of the command tent was really only a problem for Hades (and not, e.g., Alekto or anyone of similar dimensions). I'm sorry if that felt weird for you; maybe I'll have a look at adding a line later.

I'm not really sure what you mean about the Hades-Charon scene being 'weird' (they're training with each other; it's definitely nothing charged between them?) so I can't address that point here.

As for how Iasion reacts to the player's height, I can't say he much cares, honestly. He's much more interested in the fact that a person who was only ever someone he hoped existed actually did, and was right in front of him. Any comments on that particular aspect of appearance would be later down the line, if at all.

#ask #game design

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tomesandtash · 4 months ago

Text

📚 Penance by Eliza Clark 📚

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was a great start to my reading year which doesn’t surprise me since I loved Boy Parts by the same author. Framed as a non-fiction true crime book, we follow the horrifying case of Joni, who was brutally tortured and set on fire by three of her classmates in a UK seaside town. Despite what the book wants us to believe, we are left to question how much of this story is true?

Clark takes a deep dive into 2010s tumblr culture in a way I have never seen before in a book. Anyone around on tumblr at the time is familiar with the toxic shipping culture and online bullying that takes centre stage in Penance, with a particular focus on the worship and humanisation of serial killers and school shooters. I know that I came across at least a couple of distasteful flower crown edits in my time and this book is a dissection of that culture as well our current attitudes to true crime. It was almost uncanny reading this book, it’s clear that Clark was deep in the tumblr trenches at the time.

The exploration of true crime culture is nothing new in this day and age but it’s discussed so brilliantly here and never feels overplayed. We are left to wonder whether it’s ethical at all to create media surrounding these tragic events and if it is even possible to have entirely pure motives. The narrator, Alec, presents himself as the only one who can tell this story truthfully, and tells us he wants to create the definitive version of this tale so that none of the people left behind are bothered or harassed again. However, there are cracks in his story and it’s clear that he came by some of his sources in less than savoury ways. The final section of the book is almost a cunning takedown of everything we have just read, which leaves you wondering, not only did we read the truth of Joni’s death, but also do we ever get the full, unbiased truth about similar real life events from our modern day media?

This book is masterful and felt incredibly relevant to certain recent events. It reminds us that we must question everything we read. Just because it’s out there doesn’t make it true and we must always be sceptical of the media we consume. It also holds a mirror up to the glorification and, somewhat, glamorisation of the worst crimes and the worst criminals in society.

#book blog #books #reading #bookstagram #literature #bibliophile #book photography #books and reading #booklr #book recommendations #penance eliza clark #eliza clark #book review

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amandapen · 1 year ago

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2012!TMNT (and my gripes with it)

My first ever long brainrot blog post and it's about the things i dont like in my childhood show

Also, disclaimer : I'm sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language, my vocab isn't as wide as most people and this is also just my ramblings so it might stop making sense at some point

HERE IT GOES

APRIL/DONNIE/CASEY LOVE TRIANGLE (and the romance in general)

Everybody said this already but I haven't shared my thoughts so you get to listen

The romance in the show is not gross and disgusting at worst and not plot relevant at best. Personally, I have no problem with any pairings between any of the turtles and the humans characters, I don't care if the show wants to push a romance between any mutant with any humans at all. Anyone calling this beastiality or zoophilia is incorrect to me, as most of the mutant characters (aside from Karai when she first mutated) have their own mind and can choose for themselves. They are not irrational or mindless beings and 90% of the time is even smarter and more intelligent emotionally than the few human characters that we have.

The only problem with the romance in this show would be the context, and the circumstances of the characters involved in said romance.

For example, let's look at the case of Donnie/April, which is the first time the concept of romance is introduced in the show.

In the first 10 minutes of the first episode, we see the turtles comes up to the surface, and literally right after we see them marvel at the wonderful place that is the the NYC, April comes out and Donnie is immediately in love, exclaiming she is the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. (for the show's credit it was a kids show made in 2012, love at first sight was a very common trope)

Seconds after that, April and her dad get attacked by the Kraang, and Donnie jumps in to save her, the show is setting it up for this to be a thing in the future, making it clear it's not just a one-off thing or a throwaway line for jokes.

In season 2, Casey comes in, and cause he and April is the staple couple of the franchise since 2003, they have to have their moment too. In 2012, Casey is the

And we go through the rest of the show of Donnie, Casey and April in this will they, won't they scenarios also consisting of Donnie and Casey fighting over her at every second they are in the same frame.

What is the problem here?

Well, as other people have said it, this love triangle plotline ruins the characters of everyone involved.

Donnie's crush on April was cute at some point, but it stopped after he started going all stalker-ish, following April and knowing her schedule, going out of his way to plan things to get her to go out with him, getting possessive over her despite her showing she's not comfortable with his advances.

Casey is portrayed as a perverted asshole, whose whole thing is just makes fanservice jokes about April's body or just be horny for her. And when he's not, he's just the tough bad boy who contrasts Donnie, the awkward nerd.

April's character suffers the most from this situation, as from the very first second she is introduced in the show, she is introduced as Donnie's love interest. Her whole character was fixed from that moment forward as just the love interest, and nothing else. And her being thrown around between Donnie and Casey didn't make it better. What was her personality? Her hobbies? Likes and dislikes? All seems invisible as most of her scenes compromises of her being with Donnie, or her being with Casey or both.

Most of the fandom even sees her as a bitch for 'leading on the two guys that liked her', as if she asked for that situation to happen in the first place.

The romance itself isn't good, it just makes everyone look bad. Which is sad, cause outside of the love triangle, these three are great characters on their own (not the best, Donnie is definitely the weakest of the turtles in terms of characterization)

Their implied relationships off-screen sounds so much better, Donnie and April were theorized to be best friends as she seems the most comfortable with him, Casey occasionally helps Donnie with mechanic stuff (shown in one scene in season 3).

The way this plotline is handled isn't good either, it pretty much just dissolves away without any conclusion. No talks between the characters about the situation, no April standing up for herself and telling the two of them she doesn't want to hurt their friendship and she cares for them just the same as she cares from everyone in their group.

What we get was just one episode where Donnie realizes he may have made April uncomfortable all this time, (only took him 2 seasons and a half, look at that, character growth everybody). He apologizes to April and get ready to move on from her and I thought this show is actually gonna be good about it.

And April kissed him, of course.

Fuck you, Nicklodean. Of course, why would I thought a kids show is gonna handle a topic like this maturely, why would I expect such caliber writing from a show that have proved before this that they could write emotionally intelligence moments??

For the other romance subplot, they're whatever.

Leo and Karai was controversial because of the whole, they're siblings so it's incest thing, but they dropped it almost immediately after Leo finds out Karai is Splinter's bio daughter. Their 'romance' started as attraction of something new, and ended like that too.

Mikey and Renet was pretty boring, it was just, well Mikey hasn't had a crush yet and we have another single female character, so why not? They're not bad, but doesn't really add anything to Mikey or anyone since Renet is not from their timeline.

There's also Mikey and Shinigami, but I don't remember that going anywhere. It was just another comic moments instead of adding anything to Mikey's or Shini's character.

Splinter/Tang Shen/Shredder whole fiasco serves only as context as to why everything is the way it is, but nothing really deep as the show didn't really go down that path, we get some few flashbacks scenes, and we get to see what truly happened when the turtles went back in time, but nothing truly game-changing other than the revelation that it was the turtles who saved Splinter back then.

This show has only one good romance and it is...

RAMONA

LOOK AT THEM!!!

They are perfect, probably the healthiest one in the show, and the cutest one consisting of the two (imo) most mature characters in the show.

This is supposed to be a list but this is way too long already, I'll have to talk about the rest in another post.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 rant #donnie #april #casey #romance of tmnt 2012 #supposed to be a list of things but of course it was way too long #silly me #ramona is the best #they are so sweet #look at them #2012 donnie #2012 april #2012 casey

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selormohene · 2 years ago

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day 13 (sunday, july 16th 2023)

On learning and understanding math, and “being a math person”. I learned to read, so my family tells me, when I was 3. I’ve been reading ever since. Not in the trivial sense that since then I’ve enjoyed reading books, although of course I have, but in the literal sense that I’ve literally probably not gone more than a few waking hours at almost any point in my life without interpreting text of some kind. Whenever I hear someone say something and visualise the words as text in my mind, or have to follow a road sign or look something up on Google Maps or whatever, really, I’m reading, working out those parts of my brain. In fact, it’s gotten to the point (as it does for most literate adults, of course) where I read compulsively; there is almost nothing I can do to avoid interpreting sequences of letters arranged to form English words as the English words they are arranged to form. Moreover, with the amount of extra effort I’ve put into language-related pursuits (writing short stories and essays since I was a child, learning how to read and wrestle with ever-more-complicated books and papers and making the effort to think on similar levels of complexity), I’ve taken my ability to engage with language pretty far.

Obviously, the same isn’t true for math. Unlike Terence Tao, who I’m told was doing addition at the age of 2, and has probably been doing math ever since, and whose intellectual trajectory may well have made him one of the few people alive (or throughout history, honestly) to whom math probably comes as naturally as language does to everyone else, I don’t think I started doing math at such a young age, and I haven’t had the same amount of compounded stimulus and effort (basically the same reinforcement learning regime) as he has. Most people haven’t. The point isn’t that if I (or anyone else) had had the same experience we would have reached the same level; we would have had, for instance, to have the special sauce that enables you to be able to do addition at the age of 2. But I do wonder whether it might not just be the case that if many of us had had the same amount of mathematical stimulus, from the same age, as we did with respect to language, we might not all have had, if not the same level of facility for math as someone like Terence Tao, at least a facility for math at a level comparable to even the most ordinary civilian’s facility with language.

Obviously this is a completely unworkable proposal. Plus the poverty of stimulus argument for an innate language faculty would suggest that the innateness of the language faculty is in fact what’s doing a lot of the work here. (Although the mathematical stimulus that children receive is of course orders of magnitude less, and when our mathematical faculties do get off the ground we aren’t solving thousands of tiny math problems every time our eyes fall upon a set of symbols, etc. Plus the co-evolution of linguistic faculties with linguistic activity would have played a role, but the relevant counterfactual would require that we be able to carry out all the things that we’ve been able to do with language with math instead, in order to stimulate the same amount of co-evolution, etc.) But what this thought experiment does suggest, at least to me, is that the notion that there is this innate mathematical faculty that some people have and others don’t doesn’t make sense. Obviously some people just “catch on to” certain things more easily. But I genuinely believe that many of the people who believe in such an innate faculty either haven’t actually had the opportunity to reflect on what generates mathematical understanding, perhaps because they don’t have that much of it, or else the contexts in which they have reflected on such understanding hasn’t necessarily involved thinking very much about the conditions which underlie such understanding, and so hasn’t necessarily left open as plausible the idea that those conditions might be relatively mundane.

When I think about my understanding of math, both at primary school and university levels, I don’t think of an innate faculty for accessing higher realms of truth which some people have and others don’t. For one thing, I’d be shocked if I had such a thing at a relative proportion commensurate with the relative level of achievement and/or understanding of math (and/or “potential” for such understanding) I’ve managed to achieve (which I’m not claiming is exceptionally high or anything). Rather, I remember not understanding how algebra and multiplication worked in second grade, and having no idea what long division was all about in third grade, and then eventually coming to understand those things. What caused me to understand those things eventually, when I did, was an unexceptional assemblage of everyday cognitive faculties, repurposed in non-obvious ways: an ability to engage in associative thinking, a motley of mnemonics and metaphors, a healthy dose of memorisation and repetition to automate the lower-level prerequisites for higher-level understanding, exploring different perspectives on an issue to find the ones which resonated with me in particular, which made things click for me, seeing things a bunch of times until the idea sunk in, sleeping on things and trusting my mechanisms of neural self-organisation (and/or, at a different level of description, your “unconscious”) to figure things out for me. The sorts of mental images and things by which I’m able to remember how matrix multiplication works, for instance (and some of them are rather whimsical and silly, they feel like the sorts of things a two-year-old daydreaming would come up with), feel just like those by which I’m able to get some grasp on how abstract tensor products work. When I think about those people on YouTube who do creative visualisations of mathematical ideas and there are people in the comments saying “ooh wow this makes it so intuitive” this shows that really it’s that sort of aesthetic understanding that underlies the ability of a wider range of people to understand mathematics than is generally believed. It’s just that some people more immediately see mathematical concepts in the sort of aesthetic perspective in question than others.

I remember reading a tweet by Frank Lantz (or retweeted by him?) which said that memorisation isn’t opposed to understanding (in mathematics?) but a prerequisite for it. That one tweet changed my perspective on learning math and probably my entire life. Crystallised intelligence is the basis upon which fluid intelligence works. How can you solve an algebra problem in your head if you have to figure out how multiplication works from scratch? Obviously at some point the multiplication has to be hard-coded into your head before you can even dream of doing algebra creatively. The ability to do that isn’t really a matter of some mystical faculty of understanding. It’s a matter of have you memorised your times table.

I’ve always said that math is like a large tower of blocks stacked on top of each other. In order for the higher bricks to stand any chance of actually staying on the tower, the lower-level bricks essentially need to have been stacked perfectly. So small, perhaps even minuscule (and usually perfectly fixable) differences in people’s mastery of lower-level concepts will compound, and lead to large differences in people’s ability to learn further concepts, but not because of large differences in one’s inherent potential to grasp those further concepts. I can’t count how many times the reason I just couldn’t get some “advanced” concept was because my understanding of a more elementary component concept was less-than-perfect, but understanding that elementary component perfectly was easy and subsequently understanding the higher-level concept was easy. In the moment it seems impossible, but once you do understand it, it becomes obvious. It’s like trying to jam a key into a slot at a slight angle. The moment you find the right angle it slides in perfectly. A lot of this is just a matter of explaining the phenomena, but many of the phenomena in question — for instance, the fact that things which seem impossible to understand when you’re trying to do so come to seem obvious once you’ve seen them, the best explanation for which is that it’s a matter of finding the right way to make the understanding go through rather than a question of whether or not one can or cannot ultimately come to understand the phenomenon in question — don’t show up to most people who are trying to explain how learning math works as phenomena to be accounted for.

The culture of genius partly accounts for this issue. If you’re surrounded by people you don’t need to make any effort to teach, you come to believe that it should never require any effort, you either have it or you don’t. But maybe I’ll elaborate on that later, maybe tomorrow.

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true-blue-megamind · 3 years ago

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FAN THEORY... UM... SATURDAY – Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City

Okay, yes, I know, I’m keeping the tradition of being late with these posts. So sue me. Go ahead. The joke’s on you because I’m pursuing a graduate degree and I’m perpetually scrapped! HA!

And yes, in case you’re wondering, there will still be some information concerning the 2010 Megamind film. SPOILER WARNING!

This week we’re changing things up a bit. In celebration of the upcoming series Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City, I’ve asked fellow fans what they expect or hope to see, as well as researching some of the previous projects of the producers involved. Very little is known for certain, but the program is scheduled to appear on the Peacock streaming service and rumored to have a release date sometime in 2023 or 2024. (Those are, however, only rumors.) Everything in this post is, of course, all entirely unofficial, and is intended only to outline a few of the fandom’s dearest wishes along with some reasonable possibilities. If nothing else, it should be interesting.

Before we begin, however, it might be best to lay a little groundwork. In case there’s anyone who hasn’t been leaping off the walls and scream-singing anthems of celebration since DreamWorks’ announcement last month, let me review what little solid information we do have. According to Deadline, Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City will follow our favorite blue alien’s transformation from supervillain to Defender of Metro City, and will likely be formatted, at least in part, like a vlog. (Am I the only one feeling slight Doctor Horrible’s Sing-a-Long Blog vibes? Although I trust there will be fewer musical numbers and a far happier ending.) This is because, while his brainbots film, Megamind will be “training on the job” as he learns to be a hero, thus becoming “the world’s first superhero influencer.”

Some fans are less than thrilled by the premise, but others are strongly in favor of it. Personally, I feel the concept has significant merit—it certainly seems like something the blue man would do—as well as great possibilities for comedic moments. It’s easy to imagine a scene similar to the unused post-credits storyboard—in which Megamind rescues a woman from muggers with the help of Roxanne piloting a giant mech that, unfortunately, accidentally takes out power lines and a water tower—immediately cutting to a vlog entry featuring the alien genius making some remark such as: “Aaaand that did not go well.” But I digress. The point is that, other than the aforementioned release information, that’s all we know for certain about the series thus far. Now, without further ado, let’s get into the fan theories!

The MegaRox Ship Had Better Not Sink!

This is a big one, and perhaps the most obvious. People adore the blue hero’s relationship with Roxanne Ritchi, and many fans fully expect her to appear in the new streaming show as Megamind’s girlfriend. (ThatFilthyAnimalmentioned on Tumblr that he expects we may see Roxanne knowingly kissing her blue boyfriend.) It’s not an unfounded supposition. The two have obviously formed a romantic bond by the end of the movie. Near the beginning of the film, we see the then-supervillain worrying over his appearance and clearly trying to impress his abductee. What’s more, this has the feeling of an ongoing situation. Obviously, Megamind loved Roxanne from afar for a prolonged time; probably years given that he’s estimated to have been a Bad Guy for around two decades and that the whole kidnapping routine has become commonplace for Miss Ritchi. After steadfastly adoring the reporter for so long while refusing to pressure her, then risking his life to save her from Titan, it is highly unlikely that Megamindwould ever wish to end their relationship.

Then there are the Bad Blue Brilliant comics to consider. Although generally viewed as only pseudo-canonical, they do possess some relevance. For the most part, these short graphic narratives take place after the alien super-genius’ switch to heroism, and it appears that his relationship with KMCP’s top female reporter is very much en force. In “Mega-Mutt” Roxanne mentions that she and Megamind had a date at the library planned, so clearly they are a couple. The episode entitled “A Sidekick’s Sidekick” takes it one step further, with Megamind and his girlfriend announcing a shared shopping trip for some décor to “spruce up the Lair,” something the blue hero refers to as a “time-honored tradition.” There is only one common reason, in US culture at least, that might prompt a man to invite his lover to help him redecorate. It’s likely that these two are not only dating but also living together—a fact that, in turn, indicates a serious romantic attachment.

However you look at it, Megamind and Roxanne’s relationship is firmly established, and nearly all fans agree it would be tragic to see them separate. After all, the blue man not only called his love interest his “reason to win,” but was also clearly prompted by her to become a hero in the first place. This is hardly surprising as she seems to have been the first human, with the possible exception of a few inmates during his childhood, to accept Megamind as a person rather than “other.” Roxanne is the catalyst that made Megamind a better man, and losing her would almost certainly devastate him. Seriously, DreamWorks, don’t go breaking our hearts!

The Doom Syndicate Might Just Show Up

While discussing what might appear in the new series with other Megamind aficionados on The Evil Lair Discord, Ejga-Ostjamentioned a couple of good points. The first is that it seems reasonable to expect the Doom Syndicate might appear in Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City. After all, why invent new adversaries when perfectly serviceable ones already exist?

What am I talking about? Those familiar with the unused movie storyboards or the Megamind video games will already be aware that the blue man wasn’t the only supervillain in Metro City, although he does appear to have been the top-ranked. The others are roughly united in a conglomeration called the Doom Syndicate which was originally intended to appear in the 2010 film but was eventually cut out as the side narratives would have rendered the existing plot too long and complex. The Villains Fandom Wiki states that they appear to be a parody of other evil cabals appearing in comic books, especially DC’s Legion of Doom.

According to Fandom.com, several known characters from this group did, however, show up in the video games. Megamind: Ultimate Showdown featuredPsycho-Delic, a villain who produces drugged or poisoned vapors with various effects, Hot Flash, an aging vixen with fire-based abilities, and Destruction Worker, who is essentially part man and part machine. Megamind: Mega Team Unite included more villains from the organization: Conductor, who gathers and controls electrical charges much like DC’s Livewire, and Judge Sludge, who appears to have been a corrupt judicial bureaucrat before somehow transforming into a toxic blob man. Many also wonder if we might see Lady Doppler, a fan favorite from The Art of Megamind who boasts the ability to control weather. It seems likely that some or all of these characters may make appearances in the new series, but it’s equally plausible that we could see some new Bad Guys as well. It should also be noted that Richard von Busack’s book The Art of Megamindfeatures a range of other supervillains as well, ranging from interesting to frankly absurd, so there are additional existing ideas that the new program’s creators could draw from.

Villain concepts from The Art of Megamind

Please, Please Do It Right!

The other aforementioned point that Ejga-Ostja offered was discussed in various ways by a number of fans as well, and that is, quite simply, that we all hope every possible aspect of this series is given the love and effort a Megamind sequel richly deserves. This includes everything from the content and quality to the treatment of animators. Yes, I know that sounds like a lot, but this is important to so many people who have waited eagerly for Megamind to finally appear on screen again.

To begin with, LiterallyZia expressed a desire that, despite their work being intended as children’s programming, the creators will also keep their existing fans in mind.

“I hope they realize that the main audience who saw the movie twelve years ago are all twelve years older; it can still definitely be a family show with deeper themes and discussions.”

They’re not wrong, and presenting child-friendly entertainment that nonetheless deals with serious concepts and social issues would be on-brand for Megamind. (Feel free to read previous posts such as Megamind and Masculinity, What’s Hidden in the Animation, The Warden, and Megamind and Identity if you’d like to learn more about that.) The simple fact is that many audience members who watched the original film back in 2010 were between ten and fifteen years old at the time, making them adults in their twenties now. Indeed, some fans are even older, having taken younger family members to the cinema or chosen to watch an animated feature on a lark only to find themselves unexpectedly impressed with the film. Even someone who first became enthused with the blue villain-turned-hero at an earlier age, say five or six, will be in their late teens or even early twenties by the time the series premier.

If the talent involved in producing Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City is any indication, Zia and other fans may get their wish. The writers of the original movie screenplay, Alan Schoolcraft and Brent Simons, will work as the executive producers on the series. They’ll be joined by Eric Fogel, who created Celebrity Death Match as well as directing several episodes of Daria, and J.D. Ryznar, who has been involved with productions like Drunk History and Hot Streets. A good balance between the deeper contexts and adult humor found in these productions with the child-friendly standards of DreamWorks Animation should, theoretically, result in excellent entertainment. And that balance seems likely. Of the four mentioned above, three have worked with DreamWorks in the past.

Alan Schoolcraft and Brent Simons at the Megamind movie premier

That’s a good thing because balancing family entertainment with somewhat more mature topics is important to many Megamind fans. Ejga-Ostja seconded this view, stating that many of the series’ new viewers are likely to be older children who “will roll with things made for an older audience even if they don't entirely follow heavier themes.” She also expressed her interest in the overall quality of the series as well as the fair treatment of those involved, however.

According to Game Rant, there is a recent movement, #NewDeal4Animation, which seeks to gain public understanding and support for the issues faced by animators under New Media contracts. Because streaming services aren’t legally bound by the same rules as more traditional media, they can (and too often do) pay their talent less. Furthermore, there are no bonuses for programs being renewed for multiple seasons as they are often created all at once and then broken up. Ejga-Ostja said that she hopes “DreamWorks is taking this to heart” and that they and Peacock will ensure fair treatment and wages. Several other members of the aforementioned Discord were quick to agree.

Of course, like many others, Ejga-Ostjaalso hopes there will be a lot of care and attention lavished on this new series. After all, Megamind fans have been actively campaigning, not to mention practically begging, for this sequel for over a decade. This is something very many of us are extremely passionate—and excited—about, and we’re happy to be patient if it results in the highest possible quality of content.

“We've waited eleven years, we can wait longer if it means the employees are treated better, not being rushed, and the show gets more love and effort put into it.”

Mega Mysteries Could Be a Thing

Another fan theory concerning Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City is that, along with fighting crime and battling supervillains, we may see the blue man solving a few mysteries. This is based not only on his enormous intellect—Sherlock Holmes, eat your heart out—but also on some of those involved in the upcoming show. Although far from certain, and of course only supposition, the idea is not entirely without foundation.

As I’ve said, J.D. Ryznar previously worked on Hot Streets, an Adult Swim animated program that featured an FBI agent investigating supernatural occurrences and misdeeds along with his rather eclectic companions. It’s important to note that Ryznar was a voice actor on that project, but even so, some fans wonder if he might not bring that experience to the new series. And it’s possible that’s not the only reason to speculate on the possibility of Megamind’s Guideinvolving some elements of detection. Eric Fogel created the late-nineties animated series The Head, in which an average human inadvertently forms a symbiotic bond with an alien who is “on the trail of an enemy from his planet.” Although not exactly a mystery, the narrative features this pair, along with a secretive group of others possessing unusual abilities, trying to discover the dangerous extraterrestrial’s whereabouts and plots before they can destroy Earth, imbuing this production with elements of both the detective and superhero genres.

It’s not that much of a stretch to imagine some elements of mystery in the upcoming show. Many agree that it would, after all, make sense for the Blue Defender to use his massive intellect in solving cases. (If you’ve read How Smart is Megamind, you already know that his IQ may be around 350.) Our favorite alien hero may not have superpowers, but he is a super-genius, and some fans speculate that we may see him playing to those strengths by solving crimes as well as engineering brilliant heroic inventions.

What Else Do Fans Think We Might See?

There’s some debate about how competent Megamind will be portrayed in his earliest days as a hero. A Megamind’s Guide to Defending Your City Bingo sheet on ThatFilthyAnimal’s Tumblr page suggests that the blue man may initially be fairly bad at his new position, but at the same time evidence from the Metro City scene of Trollhunters: Rise of the Guardians—which shows clean streets, people comfortably walking around at night without fear of crime, and copious new technology including a state-of-the-art public transportation system—indicates that he may actually be an excellent Defender. Time will tell, but personally, I believe it’s most probable we’ll see a combination of both.

Beyond that, a large number of fans hope that Megamind will still be wearing blue and black. This seems likely as he returned to his old uniform, thus embracing his own brand of heroism, at the end of Button of Doom. Furthermore, in the previously mentioned Trollhunters movie, Metro City is covered in the alien super-genius’ signature colors. That’s not the only part of his old villainous attire that fans hope he keeps, however. Filthy mentioned on Twitter that he’d like to see Megamind wearing eyeliner once more, and I have to agree. The Goth style looks good on him.

Then, of course, there is the widespread fan theory that Megamind—possibly Roxanne as well—is bisexual. Naturally, being a family program, there are definite limits to how much sexuality of any kind we can expect to see in the show. However, the same-sex parents recently featured in Toy Story 4 and DreamWorks’ positive response to a particular piece of fanart make this seem much more plausible. At any rate, it would certainly please a great many fans to see this aspect of the blue man’s character made official.

There are a great many other suppositions concerning possible elements of this upcoming production, of course, but those are a few of the prevalent ones being discussed. One thing is absolutely certain, however: after eleven years of waiting, the Megamind fandom is completely thrilled that some kind of sequel is finally in the works. We are all looking forward to this new program with bated breath.

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zhiamomence · 3 years ago

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Hi. Welcome to the results this form, where your message about how do you feel when Hesokuri Wars one of the oldest and longest and quite popular of official Osomatsu-san game ever.

First of all I would love to say thank you to 41 participant to responses of this survey about it, especially of your shocked comment that you find out this game is gonna discontinue after October 2nd this year (I believe it'll end around 3pm Japan Time and theres event about it. idk what the fuck is going on here). Second of all, to anyone found out recently that this game will close soon as I mentioned it before, I'm sorry that you just found out about it :(

Pretty sure that the results gonna take longer than I thought, so I decided to hide half of it just in case not to clogged out your dashboard haha here we go!!

The first question I asked is anyone played this game before. 70% said yes, 29% said no, and no one choose the third one.

Which sounds great that you guys played it. For whoever never play it thats fine too bcus I know that 1. Its in Japanese and its hard to get the game (Eventhough theres english ver but they discontinue most of the recent part like in Japanese ver game) 2. its a gacha game that means you had to buy something if you want to get something premium sets that is cool but we'll talk about that later

Second question is how do you guys feel after they announced that they gonna kill this game.

I can see that most of you guys are really sad because of the one thing, the fucking AUs. yeah I know that bcus one time i played it before but had to quit bcus i know you have to buy somehting that you wanted but i feel wasted to do it so I quit after that (i never pay the gacha sets btw all i do is to pray to get lucky)(i only got lucky once)

seems like 4% really angry about the announcement or maybe they found out about it. Whichever is it I understand that. 17% agrees that gacha game sucks including this game and thats funny I agree to that. Only one person (2%) so fucking glad this game is coming to gone.

This one is about what's everyone most fav AUs from the game. Some of you guys never choose one.

I calculate the similar answers of all of those AUs bcus its too many so I give you the most top 3 fav AUs which is

Musical ( 9 votes )

Denki Mystery and Youkai (both 5 votes)

Akuma Riders ( 4 votes )

Congrats to Musical AU being jammin' and swagless as ever lol!

But this is not mostly about that, I'm gonna show you guys my fav, top 3 best comment anonymously by anyone who wrote this question's answer

No. 3

No. 2

and No. 1!

Congratulation to these answers!!! it made me a lil laugh hehe. to anyone who sad that their answers is not here, dont fret about it. I had to put top 3 best one instead of 5 or 10 bcus this post is going to be too long im sorry

This nothing to talk about more of this bcus it was quite new tho, we'll look up after they disbanded hesowars (kind of) so for who dont know, you can check it out here!

A friend of mine got me an idea while I'm writing this sillay questions but this is quiet srs to talk about that I've been wondering if the game is quite one your likes. 75% said yes and 24% said no.

Lets look for the detail of what you guys like and otherwise of your opinions! Let's start to the screenshot best comments whoever choose "no" :

and heres the one who choose "yes":

All of those comments both ways are all great! Sorry that your answers is not in here I don't want flooded too much with most of it

My thoughts, which is not relevant but I want to put this jic lol: When I was play the game when it was new I found it a little bit of fun where is sometimes you can do anything or to choose not to control anything if you have the chance like one time I can just play the game while I'm on lunch or something. But hey that was like uhhhhh 5 years ago? I stopped it few year ago but I still keeping up with the game with the AUs sets update and such till the end.

Conclusion:

There is also some pros and cons from what it answered above such as Pros: love the every characters design/Cons: had to cost money for that character set etc etc but from what I'm trying to understanding this is 100% yall thoughts when Hesowars is going to end after years of keep going on:

That we all going to be sad theres no new Osomatsu-san Heso Sets / Story mode anymore after this. :( Other of that yeah bye bye i guess.

But hey! the new game I mentioned before is also made by the same company so we dont know if they bring some AUs up but hey I said I'm not sure yet till they'll announce something soon we'll see! Also I will try the new game and I 'll review about it but who knows lmao.

OH YEAH i forgot the last question:

I told you guys that should I kill this guy I have for years and heres the result to wonder:

So most of you guys choose Option 3...................... heh....................... I see........................I get it...................

that means you guys want me kill him mORE LETS GOOOOOOOO

#zhiatalk #osomatsu san #osomatsusan #hesokuri wars #hesowars #heso wars #adding the lil extra in the end haha :]#thank you to anyone answered anonymously love all your comments!!! :D #and also thanks to hesowars to keep continue till the end we will miss only some part of the pros of the game lol #also this is just me being silly anyways i did this for the funny lol #have fun reading this lomng #ososan

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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Note

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be?

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows.

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous.

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about?

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all.

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.”

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are.

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal.

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that.

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed?

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh.

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door.

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug.

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now?

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name."

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

"You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions.

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you.

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting.

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you?

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare.

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile.

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles.

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago.

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back.

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile.

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.”

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters.

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism.

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader

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lazarettta · 4 years ago

Text

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #resident evil #resident evil village #lady alcina #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #dis tew much #assassins creed odyssey #lady dimitrescu #i'm a big simp for these bishes

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years ago

Text

One of us

Word count: 1,979

Pairing: none

Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse

Summary: Illumi tries to rebel, leading right to you and the troupe. His shackles break, he tastes freedom for the first time.

It was the most dangerous point this time of the year, the time when the troupe had to change their hideout.

You didn´t really have to but there have been incidents in the past that made you extra careful now, incidents that started the whole Zoldyck hatred in your group.

Well hatred would mean fear as well which wasn´t the case, they were more of a nuisance, a wasp that always came back to eat the cake even though you flicked it away so many times already.

Though you had to give it to them, they tried, always came back even though they knew they´d lose. Just like all the other times.

It was like a game of cat and mouse, hide and seek.

It would´ve been fun if it wasn´t so annoying.

You had to admit that it was kind of funny to see those old guys chase after you, with such a laughable ambition in their eyes. What were they even trying to achieve? Honestly, you were just trying to live your life and have some fun. As far as you were concerned you never interfered with anyone of them or their acquaintances if they had any.

Well, maybe they were just trying to stay relevant in the underground and took every job they could get even though they could never even hope to finish it.

Quite a sad fate but that was what you got when you just wouldn´t learn your lesson.

Being stubborn wasn´t always the key to being successful.

“Where are we going this time, captain?” you asked, peaking out your head from behind the boxes you were carrying.

“Oh! How about somewhere near a beach? I haven´t been on vacation in so long” Machi chimed in, a dreamy expression in her eyes.

“Wait actually, how about a vacation? I mean we don´t really have any jobs right now, why not take a day or two off?” you supported her statement.

Everyone seemed to agree with the idea but Chrollo was reluctant. “We should move somewhere safe first and make sure the Zoldycks are busy with something else. I´ll think about it then” he let you know.

After they killed one of you he became paranoid, even more than he already was.

And you couldn´t blame him.

Chrollo didn´t have it easy in the first place managing the spider, being able to stay hidden and without anyone bothering you.

“Alright. I´ll check the route” you said, making yourself useful and making sure nobody would follow you.

As you stepped out of the hideout and looked around everything was in the clear, you nodded at Phinks and Uvogin who were responsible for driving the trucks with all your belongings.

The two men helped carry the last boxes inside the trunks and then you all joined them in the cars.

Chrollo was on edge, you could tell, the way he stared outside the window so paranoid as if you´d get attacked the next second.

“We´re almost there, captain. I can´t sense anyone but us, it´s gonna be over soon” you tried to calm him down, he appreciated it, just nodding.

His jaw was still clenched, but that was just how he was, always looking out for others and disregarding himself in the process.

When you arrived it was a bit too quiet for your liking, the others were careful too.

“I´m going to check it out, you guys can start unpacking already” you said and walked around the property. This time you chose an abandoned hotel, the furniture was still in tact and Shalnark could work very well in the security and control room.

You decided to work on the basement together, making a nice playroom for Feitan.

The building was big enough so that there was something for everyone, the location was very well hidden too, so maybe you could stay here longer this time. You´d like that.

Carefully and observant you looked around and walked everywhere around the property, nobody else was here besides you, but you could feel something. It made you uneasy. And yet it wasn´t a threatening aura.

That was it. An aura.

Anyone who´d come to attack you would conceal it, so why…. Why was this person here? And more importantly: where were they?

You frowned, being even more careful now and not making it as obvious that you were looking around. Hell, you even laid against a brick wall as to show how much you didn´t know what was going on. You let your guard down in hopes of them doing it too.

But Illumi was even more careful. This was the most important mission in his life, the mission to gain his parents´ approval and love, failure was not an option.

No matter what you do, don´t mess with the spiders. They´re not worth the effort and work. That´s what they always told him. And he had believed them his whole life, not even questioning it once.

But rather than doing exactly that and becoming aware of the fact that he was stronger than his parents thought he could ever be, in a way that wasn´t self destructive, in a way that wasn´t manipulative, he decided to make this rule something twisted.

Illumi knew what sort of punishment waited for him for breaking that rule, after all his family were the only ones who were still able to actually hurt him.

However he saw it as a chance, if he broke the rule and succeeded in killing them that would only show them what a great assassin they made of him, he wondered if his parents would finally be proud of him then.

“You don´t have any ill intent, how can I help you?” you faced him, still not seeing him but you could sense his nen well enough.

Illumi stayed hidden for a bit, how could you detect him? That messed up his plan quite the bit, but he didn´t have time to let it get to him.

He watched you from afar again, watching you just stand there unguarded. It was naive and stupid but so calculated, he rather felt like prey in a trap now, not the other way around. You made him uneasy and that excited him.

Maybe it wouldn´t hurt to play this game of catch with you, after all there was no hurt in having fun in his job, was there? Perhaps he was just playing with fire, you had challenged him for something he couldn´t calculate, for something he wasn´t ready for. It was exciting beyond belief.

“Ah, there you are~” you grinned when Illumi finally revealed himself.

“It´s not wise to be out here on your own, not calling anyone for help when you know someone´s here to harm you” he coldly stated, though it wasn´t really cold, it was just… distant, uncaring. There was no emotion behind it at all and yet all of them were. Maybe you were delusional but you could swear that you saw deep grief in his eyes, an even deeper hatred and regret.

Still, you didn´t know him, you doubted the others did as well.

“Yeah well it´s kind of obligatory to face danger in my work, so what brings you here? Something personal or just a job?” you couldn´t deny the fact that you were curious. After all it was pretty easy figuring out that he was an assassin as well. That only made things more interesting though.

“A bit of both” he answered truthfully. Again. No emotion in it at all. And somehow that just drew you in all the more.

“I see, well… hate to rain on your parade but we´re not really the types of people who get taken out easily. Or at all for that matter. But since you seem like a nice guy I´ll let you go before you make any stupid decisions” you offered him, Illumi was trained that nobody could ever trace his true intentions but all that training might as well be useless. Your intuition was better than that.

“I´m afraid I can´t do that. If I leave now everything will be over. I´ve come too far already to give up now” he let you know. Leaving for him would mean admitting to his parents that he broke their rule, he didn´t want to be punished like that ever again. He wanted to be free of them. Free for good this time.

But you were right, this was stupid to begin with. He knew how dangerous the spider was, he knew he wasn´t strong enough on his own. He sighed, the first sign of humanity he showed ever since he appeared. “I won´t kill you. But I can´t return either… this is inconvenient” he shook his head, thinking. Just what was he supposed to do now?

“Tell you what, why don´t you join us? You look like you have some tragic past, fits the job description” you grinned a bit.

Inviting him was a stupid idea, you knew that. But you felt sorry for him somehow. He clearly didn´t have a place where he belonged and to you that was just sad. Because you knew that everyone had a place to belong to, no matter how fucked up and broken they were.

“Pardon? I´m afraid that´s the worst idea I´ve ever heard” he said, appalled. Human emotion detected!

“Bad ideas make for good stories, what do you have to lose?” you grinned, curious about his answer.

Illumi had to chuckle at that. “Nothing anymore actually. I would´ve said my family but I never had one to begin with” his eyes were so empty when he said that, it made you sad.

Though they also held that sorrowful look in them, that realization that he could never have a normal family, that he could never be truly happy and he shouldn´t care, he knew he shouldn´t but … he couldn´t help it. It wasn´t his fault. It was engraved in him from childhood.

“Well now you do! Welcome to the spider” you smiled and practically dragged him along into the hideout with you.

To say the rest was shocked would be an understatement. Alarmed would be more fitting. After all you just brought their enemy into the hideout. However even they had to admit after a while that Illumi was anything but an enemy. Sure at first he was quite awkward and didn´t know how to act around everyone. But that was the thing, he didn´t have to act anymore.

For the first time in his life he could be himself, for the first time he had a chance to figure out who the hell that even was.

He fit right in into the troupe, they were all outcasts in their own way, each had their weird quirks about them and that was just what made them unique and special, that wasn´t a bad thing like he had been taught. After a while he even opened up enough to laugh and joke around with everyone. Though his way of laughing was just smiling ever so slightly that you wouldn´t even notice it if you didn´t look hard enough.

But you did. And the others did too. You cared about Illumi, he was one of you now, everyone would want to read him and they were patient enough to wait for him to open up, he was a great addition to your little makeshift family. And he was funny. Illumi had a dark humor but when you got it, it was the funniest thing you´ve ever heard. It even had Chrollo chuckling. And for him that was the highest of expressions and the biggest compliment.

And when Illumi´s former family attacked he fought on his real family´s side. He fought for himself, to keep this freedom, this inner peace, this adventure and excitement he´s never known before.

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mittensmorgul · 4 years ago

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So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)

Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!

*flings open array of questionable suitcases*

First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...

One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.

Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)

Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.

How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?

How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.

All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?

Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).

The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.

At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?

So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:

this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.

Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.

Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?

Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for

And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.

(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)

So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?

So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.

Folks, you can’t have it both ways.

#spn 15.20 #chuck's process #if this was the 'happy' ending for dean they sure did fail big time to make it actually happy!#it makes me feel sick thinking that dean's happy heaven ending was more like an eternal pit of torment #like actively tormenting him and taunting him with the fact that cas was truly gone forever #like wow they went all the fuck out to make it clear that even in heaven #dean would never be allowed to respond to cas's declaration of love #like... it's the most hurtful and hateful thing the show could possibly have done to us #and it still fucks me up knowing there's people who think this heaven was a 'good' ending for dean #like... fuck that entirely and with extreme prejudice #i feel like i have not been emphatic enough about my absolute hatred for this episode in these tags #but sadly there are limitations to expressing the actual feelings i'm feeling in the english language #sometimes the only effective word for these feelings involves velociraptor screeching #Anonymous

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theclockworkmonk · 4 years ago

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Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Read on FanFiction.net

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

************

"They can't be serious…." Harry muttered in disbelief as he stared down at the very official-looking letter.

"Who's serious about what?" asked Ginny, stepping into their living room.

Harry jumped and quickly tried to hide the letter behind his back. "Nothing!" he squeaked.

He should have known better. Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eye and darted around him, trying to get at the letter. They spent a minute chasing around each other, but eventually Ginny faked him out into tripping over the coffee table, and she quickly snatched the letter out of his hand with a triumphant laugh, making Harry once again wonder if she wouldn't be even better at Seeker.

"Ooooo," Ginny sang dramatically as she saw the emblem at the top of the parchment, "an official statement from the Wizengamot! Have they come up with a new award to bestow on you?"

"No, it's even worse," mumbled Harry.

"Oh, well now I'm very interested," Ginny teased, "am I worthy to take a peek at such official correspondence between such important people?"

"Well, it actually concerns you too, Missy," said Harry, crossing his arms, "so go ahead."

"Hold on, let's see if I can get the right tone." Ginny cleared her throat, pointed her nose in the air, and continued in her haughtiest tone,

"To the esteemed Harry James Potter,

After consideration of your actions to serve and protect the Wizarding World of Great Britain, as well as the recent discovery of your lineage to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, previously thought to be lost, it is with great honor and pleasure that we offer to restore your line to its former status by bestowing upon you one of the vacant Lordships!?"

Ginny dropped her character and her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Along with the accompanying seat on the Wizengamot!" she finished quickly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her face split into a wicked grin and Harry knew he would never hear the end of this.

Harry snatched the parchment back.

"Yeah, so in other words," he began before she could start getting her jokes in, "they're embarrassed by how many of their seats are still empty after half their members were thrown in prison or fled the country for being Death Eater collaborators, so they're once again trying to use me as their poster boy so they can look like they've turned over a new leaf. Except they clearly haven't, since they only deemed me 'worthy' after they found out which dead pure-bloods I'm descended from, so they're still the same navel-gazing, inbred aristocrats they've always been!"

By the time he was finished, he was shouting and he panted to catch his breath.

Ginny, however, still found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, it breaks my heart to see Lord Potter so displeased," she bowed low to him with a flourish of her hand. "Let me know if there's anything a lowly peasant like me can do to serve you."

"Yeah, yuck it up, Weasley," said Harry dryly, "Like I said, this affects you too."

She looked back up at him with a sardonic look. "How does your having to sit through long parliamentary bullshit have to do with me?"

"Well," said Harry, stepping toward her, "if I'm a Lord, that means that, if I ever get married one day—"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Ginny.

"Yes, then that hypothetical girl — whoever she might be — would become a Lady."

"Hmmm," hummed Ginny thoughtfully. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist. "So you think this is relevant to me because you're hoping to make me your Lady? That's mighty presumptive of you, Lord Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't say hoping," lied Harry. "It's just a logical possibility to consider, strictly because you're pure-blood, of course. But I'm still keeping my options open. After all, you know how much of a ladies man I am."

"Yes, of course. But you know…" said Ginny thoughtfully, tracing circles over Harry's chest with her finger, "'Lady Ginevra Potter….does have kind of a nice ring to it."

"Oh, but things would be expected of you, m'Lady," said Harry, "and you would definitely have to stop all that Quidditch nonsense. Such a vulgar and violent activity is beneath a woman of your standing."

"Oh, well, I guess that's settled, we have to break up," Ginny sighed, "We're just a part of two different worlds."

"I'll always remember you," said Harry romantically, "but alas, I must kiss you goodbye."

He bent down and gave her a kiss, then they broke apart as they cracked up into laughter.

"Come on, I'm not going to let anyone call me a Lord," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and obviously I'm not actually going to sit on the bloody Wizengamot. Those seats are transferable, so I can give it to someone who will actually know what they're doing. My first instinct is your dad, but he probably won't want it either, and they'll do anything to get him off again. Andromeda would probably feel at home there, but could do some good. Or maybe McGonagall."

Ginny groaned. "You can be so boring sometimes, you know that? You have a chance to put Luna in a position of power, that would drive them insane! Oh, or how about Aberforth, that would be hilarious!"

Harry laughed. "We're not all agents of chaos like you, Gin. I swear, sometimes I think you're Eris in disguise."

"Oh, you think I'm a goddess?" Ginny flirted, "then I guess you better worship me."

"Hmmm," Harry kissed her again, but then sighed and pulled back. "Sadly, there's no time for that, we're already running late for dinner at the Burrow."

"Alright, should we go together or do you want to keep up the pretense that we're actually living in different flats?" she asked him pointedly.

He gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "I know it's ridiculous, and I might be a coward, I've just managed to escape your mother's disapproving stare so far in my life, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

Ginny rolled her eyes but led him by the hand out the door of their flat, past the wards they had put up. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned on the spot, feeling the squeeze of Disapparition.

*********************

"Come on!" urged Ron, "I'm hungry!"

"What else is new?" laughed Hermione, as she finished a letter she needed to send and tied it to Pig. After she sent the little owl on his way, she turned around to see her fiance standing by the fireplace, bouncing on his feet like a child on Christmas morning.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head, "one would think you haven't eaten in a week, and there's no way that your mother even has dinner ready yet."

"Yes, but her pre-dinner scones should be coming out of the oven right now!" said Ron cleverly, "And I might as well have not eaten in a week, don't pretend like I'm the only one who's sick of our sad attempts at cooking."

"Alright, alright!" said Hermione. She joined him by the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the grate, and together they stepped into the green flames.

"THE BURROW!" Ron shouted clearly, and after the spinning sensation and flashes of various fireplaces, they stumbled into the sitting room of Ron's childhood home.

Ron's excited smile faltered when they saw the sitting room completely empty, with no one there to greet them. He recognized the overlapping voices of his family instead coming from the kitchen, and with a rush of horror he feared that his precious scones were already being eaten by an army of Weasleys. He led Hermione by the hand across the room towards the kitchen, and he started to make out individual voices.

"I just don't understand why they haven't told us!" said his mother.

"He probably knows what we're likely to do to him," grumbled Charlie.

"You've been away too long, brother mine," chuckled George, "I guarantee you she's the one keeping it under wraps."

"In any case, we know that pushing the issue will do nothing but make things worse," said Ron's dad gently, "We just have to—"

"Scones ready?" asked Ron loudly as he and Hermione entered the kitchen, and Hermione had to resist the urge to swat him. The conversation he had interrupted seemed interesting, and her suspicions were confirmed (and her curiosity inflamed) when all talk instantly ceased the moment they walked into the room. Six heads snapped towards the arriving couple as Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George widened their eyes in surprise and fear, like they were caught discussing something covert. Hermione also noticed how a few of them (mainly Ron's two oldest brothers) then narrowed their eyes venomously at her and her boyfriend.

While the kitchen of the Burrow was usually one of the warmest, most welcoming rooms in the world to Hermione, she noticed a distinctly cool, tense atmosphere this time. She looked sideways and saw that even Ron had clearly noticed, his eager smile slipping from his face.

There were several seconds of silence as the older family members' eyes all flittered between each other, holding a silent conversation that Ron and Hermione didn't know how to join. Then the loud ding of the kitchen timer made them all jerk suddenly.

"Wow, do I have great timing or what?" said Ron proudly, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but some of his laughter died in his throat. His stomach didn't let him dwell on it, however, as Molly bent down to take the scones out of the oven, and the sweet, fresh smell filled the kitchen.

After she put the plate of scones on the table, Ron casually flicked a cooling charm over them before grabbing one greedily. The other Weasley men took their own, but they looked more like it was just something to do with their hands. While Ron hummed as he took a big bite, they chewed theirs thoughtfully.

"I should check on the washing," said Molly quietly, without looking at anyone. She grabbed a laundry basket and headed outside towards the clothesline.

"I'll help!" said Hermione cheerfully. She was always happy to help with the chores at the Burrow, but she also wanted to get one of the Weasleys alone to figure out what they had been talking about.

Molly didn't answer and continued outside with Hermione behind her.

"How have you and Arthur been?" asked Hermione pleasantly.

"Well, my days are still dreary, with no children left in the house," Molly sighed. "I knew that children don't stay children forever, but I certainly wasn't expecting my younger ones to hit so many milestones so quickly….and in the wrong order." She finished more quietly

Hermione frowned. Did Molly think she and Ron were getting married too soon? She had never expressed that before, she was overjoyed when they had announced their engagement.

"Er….well, Ron recently got promoted from Junior Auror," said Hermione uncertainly as she began helping Molly take garments off the clothesline and put them in the basket. "He'll be taking more serious cases now." So his career is well on track, if that's what you're worried about.

"I'm touched that you and Ron are willing to indulge that to me!" said Molly sharply

Hermione pursed her lips. Her patience was running out.

She stepped towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly…"

For the first time, Molly turned to look at Hermione and the younger woman flinched back at the cold distrust and disapproval she saw in her eyes. Hermione felt a rush of deja vu, and after a short moment she realized where she had seen that look before: it was the same look she had received from Molly her fourth year, when the older witch had believed Rita Skeeter and was under the impression that Hermione was Harry's manipulative girlfriend, breaking his heart by messing around with Viktor.

"Mrs. Weasley...have I done something wrong?" asked Hermione weakly.

Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face, Molly's own harsh expression softened and was replaced with a wave of guilt. Her eyes got watery and her lip trembled, and before Hermione could say anything else she suddenly found herself being hugged tightly.

"No dear, you haven't done anything wrong," said Molly in a choked voice, as Hermione awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "I'm just being silly. I understand you're not choosing sides, you're just being a good friend."

Molly pulled back, and was smiling weakly at Hermione.

"Er...thank you," said Hermione, more bewildered than ever. "I don't mean to be rude, Molly, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh no, of course not," Molly winked dramatically, "There's nothing to tell, I'll drop it. Come on, dinner is just about ready."

Before Hermione could insist more strongly that Molly explain what the hell was going on, Molly picked up the now-full laundry basket and returned to the house, leaving Hermione blinking dumbly behind her.

******************************

As Hermione followed his mother outside, Ron continued to chew into the warm, buttery scone, barely looking at his surrounding family members, the earlier tension all but forgotten to him.

"So….little Ronnie doesn't come around for dinner as much as he used to," Bill pointed out.

"He and Harry have been burning the candle at both ends at the Ministry," said Percy.

"Hmm-hmm," Ron nodded, engrossed in his scone, not looking up to see the stern looks on his brothers' faces. "More than we need to be, honestly. But because of Harry's saving-people-thing, he's always sure that the next case will end in disaster if the dark wizard isn't caught right now, and of course he would be lost without me, so whenever he's working overtime I am too." He shrugged.

"Oh yes, I think we're all well aware how loyal you are to Harry," Charlie said darkly, "Even over other, older loyalties, as a matter of fact."

"Charlie…." began their dad warningly.

Ron looked back up, and grew uncomfortable again when he saw that all of his family members were looking directly at him. Earlier, he had assumed that the awkward tension in the room was because he and Hermione had interrupted an important conversation, but it seemed to go beyond that, like they were pissed directly at him for something he had done.

"What's going—"

He was interrupted by his mother re-entering the house, holding the laundry with one hand and wiping tears from her eyes with the other. Hermione followed in shortly behind her, and Ron looked pointedly at his mother and gave his fiance a quizzical look, but Hermione just returned a confused, helpless shrug.

"The roast should be almost done now," said Molly happily, and waved her want to send a flurry of plates and cutlery flying to settle in front of where each of the Weasley men were sitting.

"And I'm such a terrible mother, I neglected something," chuckled Molly, and bent down to kiss the crown of Ron's head. "We all missed you, dear."

"Mum…" Ron grumbled awkwardly, but he saw his brothers look at each other with slightly guilty expressions, and as they followed their mother's lead, the atmosphere of the room became friendlier.

Charlie drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I need a drink."

"Excellent idea!" pipped George. He waved his wand and summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet along with several glasses, which zoomed right past Molly's face, causing her to jump and shriek.

"For the last time, only the cook can summon in the kitchen!" Molly scolded him, "I won't have this room devolve in complete chaos of flying objects until someone gets a concussion!"

"And I know you don't always act like it, but you are all of age," said Arthur, raising his eyebrows at George pouring several glasses of whiskey, "so I see no reason why you can't bring your own drinking supplies instead of raiding mine."

Molly huffed. "Well maybe it will be best if we stopped keeping that poison in the house—"

She stopped abruptly as they heard a faint pop from outside, coming from down the pathway, and Ron knew that Harry and Ginny must have arrived. Instead of beaming and rushing out into the garden to greet her two favorite children, however, Ron saw his mother gasp and a bit of the color drain from her face. His family members all looked at each other with that same expression he first saw when he came into the room.

Charlie gave a low growl and picked up a glass. "Yup. Definitely need a drink."

#hinny ficfest #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #hinny #hinny fanfic #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #harry and ginny #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfic #harry x ginny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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scripts4dreamers · 5 years ago

Text

When you know

AN: There’s nothing like getting drunk and singing karaoke to bring two people together.

Characters: Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

Prompt: “Hey ! Can you do a spencer imagine about him bringing his crush to the bar with the team and they have a drunk karaoke night and he confesses his feelings for her ? 🥺”

------------------

By the time the phone finally rang, it was nearly 8pm and you’d drifted off into a restless sleep on the couch in your living room. The sound woke you up and you groaned at your empty apartment, fumbling around until you felt the cool metal against your skin.

“Mmhmm?” You hummed, still half asleep.

“Y/N?” Spencer said.

Your heart jumped at the sound of your friend’s voice. You’d been waiting for him to call all day but, when you glanced at the clock and saw how late it was, you decided that you couldn’t let him know that.

“Go away.”

Even through the phone you could hear Spencer shift his weight from one foot to the other, “Y/N/N I’m sorry-“

“No, stop it, I’m still mad at you,” you interrupted without any real malice, “you promised me dinner, Spencer Reid. It’s 8pm.”

“I had a case,” he laughed, “what did you expect me to do? Rush home before we were done?”

“No, that would be unreasonable,” you answered, rolling onto your back, “I expected you to do your job faster so that I wouldn’t have to spend hours wasting away in my apartment.”

“Wasting away?”

“Wasting away!” You repeated, “you should see me, Spence, I’m positively faint from hunger.”

He chuckled through the phone and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice slipping away. The thought made you smile. If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was your ability to make Spencer Reid smile. He may have been a genius, but you were funny so, if you think about it, who was the real winner?

“I’m serious!” You insisted, “I should take you to court, mister. I’ll have you know it’s illegal to keep a girl waiting like this on a Friday night.”

“I think your definition of illegal could probably use some brushing up,” Spencer teased, “and by the way? It’s doctor.”

“Oooooh I’m sorry,” you smiled, “Doctor.”

Spencer laughed again, and you felt a familiar tingle rush through your stomach. You’d known Spencer for quite some time now but, no matter how often you talked, there was something about his voice that always made you weak at the knees.

You’d met at a coffee shop near your house when he’d tripped over your bag and nearly turned your crisp white work shirt into a soggy, caffeinated mess. As it happened, the coffee had narrowly missed you, and you’d insisted on buying him a new one, forcing him to sit down and relax. You’d ended up talking for nearly an hour and, when you arrived the next day, Spencer was already there, with your coffee order in hand. After that, well, you’d been inseparable.

Spencer hummed, “How about I make it up to you? My friends and I are going out tonight, do you wanna come?”

You sat up, “Friends? What friends? Your crime fighting pals?”

You could practically hear him roll his eyes fondly, “You know we’re not technically crime fighters, we’re closer to detectives in the classic sense.”

“Okay, fine, your detective buddies. Either way I’m so there. Where should I meet you?” You replied.

As Spencer listed off the address you rushed to your room, searching the closet for something suitable to wear. You’d never met Spencer’s friends before and you knew you wanted to make a good impression.

—————————

When Spencer hung up, he was somewhere between nervous and excited. It had been too long since he’d seen you face-to-face and the idea of you being right there in front of him in less than twenty minutes was nearly intoxicating.

“She’s coming?” Morgan asked.

“He looks way too happy for her to have said no,” Prentiss smiled.

“Ooooo we get to meet her?” Garcia asked, clapping her hands with excitement.

“It’s about time,” Morgan agreed.

Spencer blushed, “You guys promised you’d be nice.”

“What? I’m nice!” Prentiss argued.

“Yeah, Reid, you've got nothing to worry about. We’ll all be on our best behavior around Lover Girl, I promise,” Morgan said, crossing his heart.

“Derek,” Garcia chided, slapping his arm softly, “her name is, Y/N and she’s about to become my new best friend.”

Spencer smiled as Morgan and Prentiss jumped in, each arguing as to why you were more likely to be their best friend. It comforted his nerves, knowing how much his friends already cared about you. It made sense, after all they’d been listening to him talk about you for months now. In fact, it was Garcia’s idea for him to go back to that coffee shop in the first place. He’d never been more nervous than he was that day, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and hoping you didn’t think he was an absolute creep for getting the order right.

Luckily, you hadn’t, and that had been the start of the most agonizing few months of his life. They were incredible, of course, because you were incredible, but he’d also never felt more out of his depth. He’d had crushes before but with you things felt different, more urgent somehow, like the clock was ticking his time with you away. Maybe it was because he knew he wasn’t right for you, that he worked too much and kept you waiting and never had enough time, and he was just waiting for you to get fed up with waiting on him. Maybe it was because you were so wonderful that it didn’t make sense for someone to not be crazy about you, someone who could give you everything you deserved, someone who definitely wasn’t Spencer. Either way, every moment he had with you was precious, which is why he’d waited so long to introduce you to the BAU. He may have been an adult but, in his heart, Spencer Reid was still an only child and he’d never been good at sharing.

His phone beeped.

Hey! I’m outside...come say hi?

“Shhh!” Spencer said, his heart jumping into his throat as he waved his arms around to silence his friends, “everyone shut up! She’s here.”

Garcia squealed, “Really?”

“Be cool, babygirl,” Morgan smiled, “what are you waiting for, Lover Boy? Go get her!”

Spencer fought down a smile, “Okay, let’s go over the rules: no talking about work, no making her feel weird, no mentioning me talking about her, no inviting her to join the FBI for no reason and no embarrassing stories. Got it?”

“You’ve got it,” Prentiss promised, “like Morgan said, best behavior.”

Garcia looked like she was about to explode with excitement, but she nodded anyway and Morgan wrapped an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, giving Spencer a wink as he did.

“Deep breaths, kid,” he said softly, “it’s gonna be fine.”

Spencer nodded and pushed himself up out of the booth, shooting his friends a double thumbs up as he half walked, half jogged his way to the front of the bar.

When he saw you he froze for a second, his heart literally stuttering in his chest as he took you in. You were beautiful, the small part of his brain that was still functioning supplied, so beautiful that it actually hurt to look at you. He thought he’d be used to the way you made him feel by now but, whether it was the distance or some other magic unique to you, every single time still hit him like a ton of bricks and he was suddenly twelve years old again.

Just then you spotted him, and your face lit up with happiness, shocking Spencer back into action. You rushed over and pulled him close, letting him bury his face in your hair, breathe in your soft, fruity smell and relish in the sudden rush of comfort he felt being in your arms again.

“Spencer!” You cheered as you broke apart, holding onto his forearms and looking him up and down, “Oh my goodness, look at you! You look so nice.”

“Look at me? Look at you!” He responded, trying not to let on how hard he’d tried putting his outfit together, “Not bad for someone on the very brink of starvation.”

“Ah, you flatter me,” you joked, letting him go and adjusting your purse strap.

Spencer noticed the way you were shifting on your feet and fiddling with the hem of your jacket and he felt his heart pinch.

“Hey,” he said, “are you nervous?”

You laughed breathlessly, “That obvious, huh?” You smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know, I just want to make a good impression. This is your family, I want them to like me.”

Spencer bumped your shoulder with his, a rush of happiness bubbling up in his chest at the way you said family. He’d never told you that about the BAU, you’d just known. Just like you’d known a million little things about him that he’d never thought anyone would ever know. Just like you’d known on that first day that he needed someone to talk to. You just knew, and wasn’t that it’s own sort of genius?

“They’re gonna love you,” he assured, injecting sincerity into every word, “trust me.”

You nodded and took a deep breath in, steeling yourself against your nerves and forcing on a smile, “okay. I’m ready.”

And with that, Spencer walked you in. As soon as you stepped into the bar he felt your muscles tense. It was a small bar, cosy and warm, with a stage and a microphone set up for karaoke.

“It’s a karaoke bar?” You hissed, “You didn’t tell me it was a karaoke bar!”

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Spencer shrugged, “here we are.”

“Y/N!” Garcia greeted, jumping up, “Hi! I mean, hello! I’m Garci-Penelope! I’m Penelope!”

Spencer smiled as he felt your muscles relax and Garcia pulled you into a hug. You laughed, but responded just as enthusiastically.

“Hi! I-uh-I guess you all know my name then,” you grinned.

“Oh shoot,” Garcia said, “sorry, I broke a rule.”

Spencer shot her a panicked look, flushing bright red as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Don’t mind Garcia,” Prentiss cut in, rescuing Spencer from having to explain, “we're all just really glad to meet you. I’m Emily.”

She reached out to shake your hand and, with that, you took a seat next to Spencer and normal conversation resumed. Morgan and Garcia launched back into their banter while Emily asked questions about your job and when you’d moved to the city. It was easy and normal and...so, so strange.

Spencer was almost painfully aware of how close you were; your leg brushing his under the table, your shoulder nudging his with every little movement you made. He tried to stay focused on what was going on at the table, tried to follow the conversation and add value, but he couldn’t keep the stories straight. Time didn’t make sense anymore. Spencer was completely lost in the unbelievable happiness of having all the people he cared about in one place.

At some point during the night, an immeasurable amount of time later, Morgan bought drinks. That was a mistake. It was a mistake because now you were tipsy and your head was on his shoulder and Spencer thought his head might actually explode with the effort of not blurting out how much he liked you right then and there. You were laughing at something Emily had said, just chuckling like it was the most natural thing in the world and Spencer felt his heart literally swell.

“We should sing!” Garcia said suddenly.

You gasped, slapping Spencer’s thigh with excitement, your whole face lighting up like it was christmas.

“Yes! Yes yes yes! We should sing!” You agreed, “Don’t you think, Spence?? Don’t you think we should sing?”

Spencer laughed and shook his head, “No! No, I don’t sing. Trust me, you don’t want to hear that.”

“Pleeeeaaaaase?” You whined, turning to face him fully and fluttering your eyelashes, “please, Spence?”

Damn those eyes, he thought to himself, feeling his skin flush under the weight of your stare. Maybe this would be easier if he was drunk. He couldn’t say no to you at the best of times but, when you’re pouting at him like that, with full puppy dog eyes? Oh yeah, he was beyond putty in your hands. Spencer could practically taste Morgan’s smug look.

He rolled his eyes fondly, giving in to the inevitable, “What would we even sing?”

Somehow, your smile grew infinitely bigger and Spencer’s heart did that thing where it jumped into his throat and stuttered at the same time.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” You turned to Garcia, “Well? You coming, ‘Nel?”

“You betcha!” Garcia smiled, pulling you up and towards the stage.

At the last second you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s hand, laughing your head off as you went. His skin felt like it was on fire where you touched him, little shocks of electricity running through every inch of skin that touched yours. It was a little ridiculous really, how quickly Spencer lost his head when you touched him. All that genius, all those years of schooling sharpening his mind into a finely crafted machine and all he could think about was the feeling of skin on skin, and the smell of your hair.

The stage was sticky. The microphone was pitchy and jarring. Everything was way too much, and completely dull at the same time because all he could see was you. You and Garcia were hunched over a screen, laughing and talking as you picked a song. The music started and you grabbed the microphone, smiling over at him like it was nothing. Spencer knew he should be nervous, he should be hating every second of being up on stage in front of a group of strangers but, for some reason, he wasn’t. He was happy and calm and like ten other adjectives that almost never described him in the hours after a case, but that seemed to follow you around like a shadow.

You opened your mouth, too drunk to be properly singing, but still sober enough to be almost on key, “Here’s the thing, We started off friends-”

Garcia joined in, “It was cool but it was all prete-end, yeah yeah,”

“Since you been gone!”

You waved him over and Spencer followed, letting you point out the screen where the words appeared line by line. To be in front of the mic, Spencer had to lean in towards you and woah that’s close. He could count every single eyelash and see individual flakes of glitter against your skin, but he pushed the image down, tucking it away into the back of his mind somewhere for him to take out again when he was alone. All this happened in a split second, just long enough for Spencer to remember where he was and snap back into the present.

“You dedicated, you took the time,” The three of you sang together, trying to stifle laughter when Garcia tried to harmonize, “It wasn’t long before I called you mi-ine, yeah yeah, Since you been gone!”

You closed your eyes, throwing your head back as you sang and drawing Spencer in even closer.

“And all you’d ever hear me say Is how I picture me with you! That’s all you’d ever hear me say!”

You opened your eyes, turning to Garcia as the music swelled.

“But since you been gone! I can breathe for the fiiiiiirst tiiiiiiime, I’m so moving on, YEAH YEAH” you screamed together, even Spencer giving into the music for a moment, “Thanks to you! Now I get! I get what I waaaaaaaant! Since you been gone!”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and, when he did, you met his eye and followed suit, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laughed together, Spencer wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you up so that you could support Garcia as her back up singers. It was silly and goofy and fun, and Spencer didn’t really want it to end because it meant he could be close to you. It meant he had a reason to be close to you that wasn’t just his own selfishness and it felt like you wanted to be close to him too.

As the song came to an end and Garcia warbled out a final, “since you been gone”, Spencer found himself just looking at you, something thrumming just below the surface in his chest. His arm was still around your waist, just a friend supporting another friend, that’s all, totally innocent. Except that it wasn’t because he was looking at you like you were salvation and he could feel it happening, he just didn’t care. Because it was obvious, wasn’t it? It was obvious that he loved you. He’d maybe always loved you, ever since that day at the coffee shop and maybe that was okay. Maybe it was okay that he loved you even though he didn’t deserve you because, well, you knew him. You knew Spencer in a way that only one or two people in his entire life had ever known him and you still seemed to like him, you still looked at him like he was something special and precious.

Garcia pulled you both off the stage, bowing to the smattering of applause from the crowd and the whoops and hollers from the table where his friends were sitting. Instinctively, Spencer tugged you back, shooting Garcia an apologetic look, which she accepted with a nod and a subtle smile. His heart was in his throat but, when you turned and looked back at him, tilting your head in confusion, he felt sure.

“Hey-uh-can we-” he paused, smiling sheepishly as he felt himself flush, “can we talk, quickly?”

You frowned, concerned, but nodded and let him pull you aside, and Spencer loved you so much for it that he wanted to scream. Looking around, he managed to spy a somewhat empty corner of the bar, far enough away from the stage that you’d be able to talk without having to raise your voice. It wasn’t perfect, if he’d known-well-if he’d known how tonight was going to go he would have planned something more romantic, but he didn’t and the idea of knowing how he felt and not telling you about it made him feel sick. Because it all made sense now, the sense of urgency, the way his crush on you had never felt like a crush, the way one conversation with you felt just like three hours of uninterrupted reading. It all made sense and he needed you to know, right now, before he got called away on another case and you were apart for God knows how long. He needed you to know.

“Spence?” You asked as soon as you were in the corner, “What’s going on, did I do something wrong?”

“What? No! No-Y/N-you’re-” he started, forcing himself out of his head and back into the moment, “you’ve been incredible. You are incredible, which is sort of what I wanted us to talk about-or-no not exactly?” he rambled, his thoughts and feelings tripping and stumbling over one another in an attempt to find just the right combination of words for the way he was feeling, “I mean it is-you are-but I realised that you’ve always-ugh, sorry-”

“Hey,” you chuckled gently, taking one of his hands in both of yours, “it’s okay, just slow down. We’re not all super geniuses, you know?”

Spencer paused, taking a deep breath and letting his thoughts catch up with one another. God, you really were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, some part of him noted, and your smile….When you smiled at him like you were right then, like he was the only person in the room, like there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right there in that dingy karaoke bar, all his fears just kind of...went away. He could still feel them, if he really tried, but they were distant, locked up in another room, behind a metal door with a padlock on it. They were so far away and you were so close and wasn’t that more important?

“I’m in love with you,” he heard himself say, “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I know that-I know that you don’t owe me anything, and I’m not trying to pressure you, or force you to do anything, I just thought you should know because-because it’s the truth, and I think you deserve the truth.” he paused, wishing that he could gauge some sort of reaction besides the slight widening of your eyes, “And the truth is that I’m in love with you, Y/N, and-”

Thankfully, you kissed him before he had to figure out how to finish that sentence. He barely had time to notice you leaning in before your lips were on his, soft and sure, like you were answering a question, or saying a prayer. Everything else faded away, nothing was as important as you and, without even thinking, Spencer kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Your fingers threaded through his hair and he sighed against your lips, some small part of his brain wondering if kissing was supposed to feel this good. Had it ever felt like this before? Had he ever wanted like this before? No, not until you. Because you were different, you’d always been different and, if the way you whispered his name against his mouth when he nipped at your bottom lip was anything to go by, you’d always been his, and he just hadn’t known it.

He could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in your arms with the burnt sugar taste of your lips on his tongue, but eventually you had to break apart, even if it was only to breathe. Thankfully, you stayed close, resting your forehead against Spencer’s as you basked in the moment.

“I-love you too,” you chuckled breathlessly, “in case that much wasn’t blatantly obvious.”

“You know, I’d like to say I had a hunch,” he responded, “but I really didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning forward to press another, much gentler kiss to his lips, “What, you thought I dressed like this for Morgan?”

There was something sinful about being able to let his eyes trace your body like this so openly, something private and intimate that made Spencer want to blush.

“I-uh-I tried very hard not to think about who you dressed like that for, actually,” he admitted, and then quickly continued, “not that you dress a specific way for anybody, or that there’s anything wrong if you do it’s just-you know-women can dress how they like, and there’s nothing intrinsically identifiable in the way a woman dresses that allows a person to truly know what she wants or doesn’t want. Not that you want anything, I just-”

You cut him off with another kiss and Spencer melted into it gratefully. He could feel you smiling into the kiss and, for once, he was grateful for his rambling. For once, Spencer Reid couldn’t think of a single thing he’d change about himself, because you loved him and that was too good a thing for him to want to mess with.

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