#and Victor running around making everything that we needed more of
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-->But yes, with everything at home settled -- produce picked, animals tended, bees calmed, gnomes moved -- it was off to the store for this lot! I had Victor start in immediately with the magic, using Repairio on one of the flower arrangements in the front window to see what it did to the plants -- it DID increase their quality, but it did NOT do anything about their level of freshness that I could see (that is, it made the whole thing a better bunch of flowers, but it did not do anything about how wilted it was). Good to know, I suppose! I also had him catch the stink bugs that had started congregating outside the front windows -- can't have THOSE annoying customers! And you never know when you might need them for herbalism...
-->Anyway -- with that sorted, let's go over everyone's store jobs:
Smiler got banished to the dock to fish for a good chunk of the day (even when it started snowing -- it was only a little bit and not for long!), to help add some fish to the fish freezer I'd added earlier. They caught a cichlid, an angelfish, a couple of tunas, a tilapia, and a perch, which is not a bad haul! And I figured out which option on the fish freezer lets you mass-store fish – though I actually can't recall the exact label at this point in time. ^^; Something like "fresh ingredients!" Also lets you mass-transfer meat and eggs, which is nice. :)
Alice, naturally, got put on canning duty -- specifically, oversize conserve duty! I had her use up a bunch of the oversized produce in her inventory making jars of mushroom, aubergine, lettuce, pumpkin, and watermelon conserve to put on the shelves next to the canned green beans, canned green peas, and bottles of dried sage. It felt like the most appropriate place for them! Don't worry, though, she got a few breaks -- mostly because the werewolf instincts demanded she go outside for a bit and let out a Somber Howl to keep the Fury low. Gotta keep that inner beast satisfied!
And Victor was just all over the place, doing every job the other two couldn't -- making more boxes and bottles of dried sage to fill in that area; making more loaves of banana bread to fill out the bakery section; brewing up some more perfume in Inspiring scents for that endcap; and of course hitting everything he could with Copypasto to fill in gaps on the shelves. Seriously, that spell is the most useful thing on the PLANET -- it is so OP and I never want that to change. XD Copy every freaking jar of preserves you can, Victor! I just wish you could copy the mod-added stuff too!
#sims 4#the lazy save#victor van dort#alice liddell#smiler always#yeah I was kind of hoping Repairio would reset the freshness level of a flower arrangement as well as its quality#but no dice#ah well just gotta replace the arrangements when they wilt#at least there's no loss of cash as we only make the arrangements that we have all the flowers for!#but yes everybody doing what they're best at most of the day#Smiler getting all the good fish for the fish freezer#Alice doing all the canning#and Victor running around making everything that we needed more of#or just straight up copying it from what was already on the shelf XD#I don't think I could have gotten this far with the store without Copypasto#seriously that spell is a total winner and I'm very pleased Victor has it#now it only it worked on Simsonian Library's stuff!#meeeh#can't have everything!#as we established it doesn't work on chatterbots either so#*shrug*#queued
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Moves & Countermoves (Part 12)
Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
“We have one month, that is all. After that, two of us are back in the arena and we need to be ready.”
This meeting of district twelve’s victors is called to session a bit earlier than Haymitch would like. Not that any of them have been sleeping anyway.
“So you want us to do what, exactly?” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.
“I think we need to train, all of us. Everyday.” Peeta says, pointedly.
Haymitch huffs a laugh.
Y/N squeezes her husband’s shoulder, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”
“You’re gonna start deadlifting until this kid comes flying out of you?” Haymitch rears back in perturbed amusement.
Y/N shakes her head. “There are things I can still do. Brush up on my skills, learn a new one.”
“I could teach her to shoot,” Katniss offers.
Y/N shrugs, “she could teach me to shoot.”
“And you could teach us how to throw knifes.”
“We’ve all won the games.” Peeta reminds Haymitch in particular. “We can all learn from each other.”
————————————————————————
A couple weeks later they sit down with the kids, unsure how to broach the topic of tonight’s discussion. But the whispers around town are loud, better they hear it from their parents than someone else.
“Do you remember when we talked about the Hunger Games?” Y/N begins.
Everest nods, they talk about it in school too. “If you win, you become a victor.”
“Right,” Y/N leans across the table a bit more.“This year is a Quarter Quell.”
“That means a special games, like Daddy’s.” Arista adds.
“This year…” Haymitch hesitates, “it means that only victors can go.”
“They can’t do that,” Everest interjects.
“But you’re victors.” Arista says, a look of realization dawning over her features.
“Let’s talk through this.” Haymitch attempts to calm his children. “I know you both have a lot of questions.”
“No, they can’t do that. It’s not fair!” Everest’s little hands ball into fists.
“Honey-”
“Are you gonna die?” He cries, angry, hot tears cascading over his cheeks. “Katniss? Peeta? What about our friends? Cashmere, Gloss, Finnick, Mags? Who’s gonna take care of us if you’re both-”
Arista’s breathing picks up and she abandons her seat, crawling into her mother’s lap, though there is not much room. “They can’t make you play with a baby in your belly.”
“Shhh.” Y/N rocks her gently. “I don’t want you to be afraid.”
“So that’s it? We just give up?”
“No,” Y/N locks eyes with her son. “We’re not giving up, we’re gonna fight. Every victor, all of us, to try and stop the games.”
“Maybe you can stop it.” Arista nods, against Y/N’s chest.
“Maybe we can,” Y/N agrees, “but if we can’t, just incase, we need to talk about-”
“Is Aunt Madge gonna take us?”
“That’s the very last resort.” Haymitch admits, “we don’t know whose names they’re gonna call, even then, someone else could volunteer. Ideally, one of us will be able to-”
“So what you’re saying is that after this two weeks we might never see you again?”
“We’re going to do everything we can.” Haymitch promises.
“But it’s possible?” Everest is confused, outraged.
“Yes. It’s possible.”
The days run together, between training and spending as much time with their children as they can. On that last night, the children sleep between them, Y/N on one side and Haymitch on the other, clinging to this moment.
Cruelly, inevitably, the sun rises. Madge is at their door and Y/N comes to answer, while Haymitch and the children ready themselves.
Her sister says not a word, pulling Y/N in for a hug.
“Thank you for coming.” Y/N breathes, smoothing down the younger woman’s hair.
“You don’t need to thank me.” Madge wishes she could do more. “I’ll do my part here and wait for you to come home.”
“They need you, Madge. Now more than ever.”
Madge only holds her tighter. “I love you.”
“I love you so much.”
Peacekeepers are sent to collect them, marching the four victors to the justice building. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen trail closely behind Madge and the Abernathy children, one clasped in each hand.
“Welcome, welcome,” Effie begins her speech, “as we celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary and third Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games.”
From his place on the stage, Haymitch can see his children. The boy, that squawked like a bird the first time he was placed in Haymitch’s arms, reminding him that the world might not be such a terrible place. The girl, that had him wrapped around her little finger before she could speak and gave him reason to dream. They look to him in fear now. Fear that they will lose their mother, fear that they will lose him.
“As always, ladies first.”
Y/N reaches for Katniss’ hand. There is nothing to hope for, no favorable outcome.
Effie draws the name, clearing her throat before announcing. “Y/N Abernathy.”
Madge lifts Arista into her arms, hushing the little girl as best she can, but she is distraught. Her hiccuping sobs causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prim scoots in to rub her back.
Everest does not move. He does not blink and he does not cry. Forever ingraining this image of his mother in his mind.
Y/N can’t risk a glance at Haymitch. She knows how deeply the knife is buried in his chest, how the guilt will twist it, now and for years to come.
Katniss jerks her back almost forcefully, “no.”
“It’s ok,” Y/N whispers.
“I volunteer.”
“Katniss, please don’t do this.” Y/N pleads, but they are out of time, they are out of good choices.
“I volunteer as tribute.” Katniss announces, with more certainty the second time. Pulling her hand from Y/N’s to stand beside Effie, at the center of the stage.
“Wonderful.” Effie swallows down her sorrow, the show must go on, “and now for the male.”
Y/N’s head is light, spinning as if she might faint. Her lungs burn, perhaps she has stopped breathing.
“Haymitch Abernathy.”
“I volunteer as tribute,” Peeta says, without hesitation.
“I can’t let you do that,” Haymitch stops him, with a hand to his chest.
“You can’t stop me.” Peeta narrows his eyes.
“Peeta-”
“Let go.”
Haymitch has no choice but to obey. Sending their victors back as tributes, erasing all they’ve done.
“Very well,” Effie sniffs, hoping to regain some composure, “the tributes from district twelve; Katniss Everdeen…and Peeta Mellark.”
The entirety of their district raises three fingers in solidarity. They are not alone in this sadness; this defeat. Among the crowd, Y/N finds her mother, who has not been coherent enough to attend a reaping since her own.
She’s never blamed her mother, not for her absence or her addiction, nor the inability to move past Maysilee’s untimely death. Y/N cannot imagine losing her little sister, part of her would die too.
The idea that maybe she could talk to her before she leaves, maybe her mother has some divine words of wisdom or comfort-
Commander Thread takes Katniss by the arm, robbing her and Peeta of the chance to say goodbye. Y/N and Haymitch are carted away shortly after. Straight to the train station.
The ride is silent for a long while; eventually the four of them find each other, dutifully seated in the blue velveteen chairs. Drawn together like magnets, though there are no words.
Haymitch slumps down in his chair, extending his free hand to Y/N.
She takes it, the same way she always has, with a love and understanding that Haymitch is sure he will never deserve. But that is the problem with love; with life, really. So rarely does anyone get what they deserve.
Y/N continues preparing her presentation for the morning, detailing the participating victor’s strengths and weaknesses. Hesitating at each name she knows well.
Cashmere and Gloss, district one…
The train car doors open and Effie joins them, “before we begin, I’ve had a thought.”
“You don’t say.”
Effie gives Haymitch the side eye, pressing on in spite of his remark. “Katniss has her gold mockingjay pin, I have my hair.” The swirling golden updo. “I’m going to get the three of you something gold.”
Y/N finally looks up.
“And why is that?” Haymitch wonders, sipping at his teacup, containing a bit more than leaves.
“A token! Show them we are a team, and they can’t just-”
“Thank you,” Katniss says, taking Effie’s hand.
Peeta’s gaze softens. He’s accepted his fate, the only thing to do now is make sure Katniss is happy, keep her alive.
————————————————————————
No expense is spared for this very special Quarter Quell. A new training center and tribute living quarters are waiting to greet them in the Capitol.
“I want you to forget everything you think you know about the games.” Haymitch cuts through the silence. “Last year was child’s play, this year you’re dealing with all experienced killers.”
“Ok. What does that mean for us?” Peeta asks.
“It means you’re going to need some allies.”
“No.” Katniss shoots him down.
“Do it your own way, but we know these people and if you go it alone their first move will be to hunt you down.”
“Katniss, I know it’s not easy for you to trust them,” Y/N understands how difficult this all must be. “So you’re just gonna have to trust us.”
“Fine, show me.”
Y/N makes for her tablet, dimming the lights as her slideshow is put to the big screen.
“This should be good.” Peeta relaxes farther into the loveseat beside Katniss.
“Cashmere and Gloss. Brother and sister from district one, they won back to back games, Capitol favorites, lots of sponsors.”
“This is your first choice?” Katniss nearly chokes on her own saliva.
“Well,” Y/N swipes to the next screen, “they’re careers so they are extremely lethal. A few other positive attributes would be strength, agility, very intelligent. They offer protection, opportunities for better sponsors-”
“Despite some favoritism and general bias on her part,” Haymitch motions to Y/N, “this a strong choice.”
Katniss nods, she’ll consider it. For Y/N.
“From district three, Wiress and Beetee. Not fighters, but brilliant and…weird, real tech savvy.”
“We chose them because they offer a unique skill set-”
“Yes.” Katniss agrees, surprising even Peeta.
“O-ok,” Y/N moves to the next contender. “This is Finnick, from district four.”
“He won his games at fourteen, youngest ever. Don’t let that fool you, he’s incredibly humble.”
“You’re kidding.” Katniss scoffs.
“Yes, he’s a peacock, a total preener,” Haymitch does not mince words, “but he’s the Capitol darling, they love him here, lots of sponsors.”
“Very skilled in combat, especially in water.”
They carry on like this for some time, through Johanna in seven, Chaff and Seeder in eleven. Leaving Peeta and Katniss much to discuss as they retire for the night.
“You think she’ll come around?” Y/N dares to ask.
“You want me to be honest?” Haymitch tosses wayward hair from his eyes.
“Yes.”
“It’s gonna take a miracle.”
————————————————————————
Watching Haymitch’s games is a necessary evil, giving them some insight into the craftings of a Quarter Quell arena. The landscape is nothing short of paradise. Vibrant colors, beautiful creatures and a feast, complete with candy, weapons, anything a tribute could ask for; right at the cornucopia.
But the food is poison and the wildlife is deadly, in the games nothing is ever as it seems.
Though Haymitch does not fall prey to the gamemarker’s trap, many tributes do. He goes it alone for a while, ending up head to head with a pack of allies. He fights, better than Katniss imagines anyone could without experience; managing to take down two out of three opponents, before the knife is held to his throat.
The girl who spares him looks familiar, in a way that Katniss can’t place, sporting the same gold mockingjay pin she was given at the hob. “We’d live longer with two of us.”
“She looks like Madge.” Peeta voices this before Katniss can.
“She’s my mom’s little sister,” Y/N explains.
And then it all makes sense, or none of it does. Another layer to their mentor’s great ‘love story’ for Katniss and Peeta to attempt dissecting, in a bizarre form of pillow talk.
Haymitch has found the edge of the arena, Maysilee wants to turn back and he doesn’t. “We should say goodbye now. There’s only five of us, don’t want it to come down to the two of us.”
“Ok,” Haymitch lets her go.
Her screams follow not long after, the bubblegum pink birds begin tearing through her throat with razor sharp beaks.
Y/N remains glued to the screen, though the ending never changes and she cannot raise the dead.
In the end, Haymitch puts the force field to good use, leading the last career and her axe to the cliff side. Holding intestines inside his body with one hand, he waits for the weapon to ricochet; burying its blade in her skull.
“That was smart.” Katniss purses her lips.
“Too smart,” Haymitch bites out in warning, “do not attempt it. That move got my family killed.” He leaves without a word.
Y/N doesn’t go after him. Sometimes Haymitch needs to be alone and if she chases him, he won’t run. He’s too good a man and he loves her too much. He would stay, even as every cell in his body yearns to go.
————————————————————————
Haymitch returns, after a bottle or two and a very interesting talk with Plutarch. There is a plan, one to extract the victors from the arena, all they have to do is stay alive until then. He searches the tribute living quarters for Y/N, finding her already asleep in their bed.
He is determined not to wake her, flipping off the forgotten light overhead and changing out of his suit.
She stirs as he draws back the covers. “Haymitch?”
“Shh,” he climbs in behind Y/N to cradle her belly, “sleep.”
“Is everything ok?” She reaches back, stroking his hair.
“Everything is fine.” He finds her hand, kissing at her wrist and fingers, before gently lying it back on the bed.
Y/N nuzzles farther against him, “ok.”
“You know I’m always coming back, right? No matter what.” Their child shifts under his palm.
“I know,” she nods.
“If anything ever happened to you-”
“Haymitch, you don’t need to say it.”
Yes I do. “When I lost my family, I kept going. Out of spite, or insanity, whatever it was that kept me going, I did it. But if you were gone…if our kids were gone; I couldn’t. I need you safe. I need you.”
“You have me.” Y/N breathes, “right here. Just you and me.”
Part 13
Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating
#thg haymitch#haymitch abernathy x y/n#haymitch x reader#haymitch x y/n#haymitch abernathy x you#haymitch abernathy x reader#haymitch abernathy fanfic#haymitch abernathy#haymitch fanfic#haymitch abernathy x yn#katniss everdeen#the hunger games#peeta mellark#moves & countermoves
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i heard requests were open and i scampered over as quickly as i could, i hope i made it in time 🙏
🌠: joseph, victor and mike (seperately) with a gn! reader who got hurt badly during the match and he has to take care of them (for joseph you could make the injuries be from a nasty fall or getting hit by the trolley or something)
Thank you for your time!
— SAVE YOUR HEART FOR ME; I'LL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED
— JOSEPH
You and an injured teammate are running away from the photographer, circling around the hospital to buy time for the decoder of your team to decode the remaining two cipher machines. One of you has already been sent back to the manor deleteriously early in the game. Your team was quite at a disadvantage especially with Joseph's ability to slow down your decoding progress.
Currently, you're supporting your injured teammate as much as you can by shielding them against Joseph's hits. You and the photographer are aware and has accepted the consequences of loving someone from a faction with an opposite purpose from each other. You are to survive and he is to kill. But your lover can't exactly find it in him to hit you, the love of his life even if it costs him the match. And do you take advantage of it. He loathes you for that sometimes.
He's trying his best to find an opening through your body block to hit the other survivor but to no avail. You are quite persistent in taking the hit for them. Shielding them so closely to the point that it looks like you're hugging them.
The chase of cat and mouse, two mice in this situation, continues between all of you. All desperately aiming for victory even with the given situation. But perhaps Joseph should've paid more attention as to how long your body would last at the repeated jumping off the two-story building of the hospital.
You jump down following your teammate from the destroyed wall of the hospital's second floor. And Joseph follows after. But this time, the sight of you and your teammate running isn't what greeted him but instead the sight of you desperately trying to stand up from the ground with your teammate trying to support you as much as they can. But with the hits they've taken from Joseph's sword, their body doesn't allow them to help you to get off and run as the photographer inches closer to the two of you.
"My dear, what happened?" Joseph kneels beside you. He puts away his sword and inspects your body for injuries and puts an arm around you.
You shake your head "Don't worry, it's not that bad." But the hiss of pain you let out when you try to move one of your legs says otherwise.
He takes your hand away that was wrapped around your ankle to see the injury for himself. Your skin is littered in purple and red. His irises–wait he doesn't have those… He glances on your ankle to your face. "Does it hurt that much? You must have hurt your ankle when you fell."
"Oh we don't know that, my ankle just probably decided to dislocate while I'm mid-air." You replied to his obvious statement.
Joseph gives you a look and you decide to change the topic "So, uh, what about the match?"
"I don't think it's a good idea to continue it when you're in this state… maybe we should just call it a draw and go back?" Your teammate speaks up. Joseph gives an approved hum and picks you up, fighting back a grin when your cheeks turn pink at the gesture.
He carried you to your room and tended to your injury all by himself. But he did call for other medical experts in the manor (such as Emily) to make sure you'd have a stable and speedy recovery.
As much as he'd like to, Joseph would abandon any work or matches he has planned on his agenda just to stay by your side. But let's say due to manor rules, he can't.
The other survivors feel like the photographer has been more aggressive with his matches these couple days. They thought that it might be because you're hurt. Technically they're right, he just wants the matches to be over so that he'd see you again quicker.
— VICTOR
It's not too surprising that you'd get injured. After all, the area all of you are living in aren't exactly safe nor are the people you're sharing under the roof with. Especially when you all are scheduled and obligated to play the "game". In this house, getting hurt is normal.
You weren't feeling it today. The past few days were tireless and you've barely gotten any sleep. But you had a match today. And you can't exactly skip it, even with how exhausted you are. The baron cares only for rules and results you give, they could care less for your lack of rest.
The match was quite peaceful, fortunately. The kiter of your team was doing well and the rest of you three are peacefully decoding the ciphers. Victor was also in the match which gave some comfort in the intense and tiring atmosphere.
But you were tired as hell, and the peace was so boring that it's encouraging you to relax. A bit too much. Your eyes droop and you lose your focus on decoding. You didn't even hear the bell that signifies an upcoming calibration. Your eyelids opened as fast as you closed them when the cipher gave you a shock for your failed calibration.
Luckily Victor has already finished your cipher and was heading to yours when he heard you scream in pain followed by a thud. He rushed to the noise and scrambled beside you to check what had happened to you.
The familiar bark heading your way gives you relief as you lie on the ground hissing and groaning while clutching your wrist. Victor looks at you worriedly as he positions himself beside you. He lets out a surprise yelp when his eyes land on your right hand. Around your palm are black spots and red marks.
"I got shocked…" You say, your voice hinting a slight disappointment towards yourself. "I fell asleep and missed a calibration."
Victor gives you a warm side hug whispering to you "Please don't beat yourself too much because of this. You were too tired and shouldn't have been in this match anyway."
He rubs your shoulders to soothe you. There's no doctor in the match right now and the area the game is set in doesn't seem to have any first aid kits or anything to help to provide. So unfortunately you'd have to sit for now until the match is over to get your wound treated.
A cipher pops from across the map and is followed by another pop. Maybe it was fortunate that there was a certain prisoner in the match to help speed up the cipher progress. There's only one cipher left needed to complete. And yours was more than halfway done. The inventor from across the map sees that too and the light bulb from the switch on the ground lights up signifying that he has made a connection to your cipher to the one near his.
"Stay here, it'll get better soon I promise." His hushed voice says to you and you nod in response. You don't have to do anything but wait right now, seems like the perfect time to take a short nap. But the zap you just had earlier just electrocuted the exhaustion out of you. Well at least you have Wick and your cute blonde lover to accompany you right now and to keep you distracted from what happened. You don't even want to look at your injured hand right now.
Victor doesn't need to take a peek from his letters to speed up his decoding. His love for you and his priority for your health and safety is enough to give him the motivation he needs to slam his fingers on the metal keyboard like his life depends on it (well technically it does I guess?).
When the last cipher popped, Victor rushed you to the nearest gate and typed in the code to get you out of there as fast as possible.
He memorized every advice Emily gave to you for your injury, even writing it down so it won't be forgotten. He also made sure to send a letter of gratitude to the doctor in thanks for her help.
The days you feel insecure or guilty for your accident, Victor was there to reassure you. Saying that any wounds or mistakes you do doesn't make him love you less and that he will always be there and take care of you when needed.
When he's not available or busy with other things, he'd send long letters and gifts to make you feel better while you rest in the meantime you're healing from your injury.
— MIKE
A risky boyo. He literally plays with bombs. As much as it helps to reduce the hunter's abilities and speed, it's still a bomb. A weapon treated as a toy and could pose a threat to the survivors side if handled wrong (ingame it doesn't do anything to fellow survs but I'm talking in a more realistic sense...does that make sense lol).
The match was just utter chaos. Sounds of bombs everywhere that your own eardrums felt like exploding. Even their ticking was enough to make your ears bleed, not just because they're annoying but also because it's the indicator to your upcoming demise of getting flown to the sky by a rocket.
Your beloved acrobat is heading towards you and the hunter, guard 26. A hunter with a seemingly unlimited stack of bombs that can rain upon you. Around you were a handful of bombs threatening to explode as soon as a foot stepped on their area, something Bonbon can also command despite the timer. Making it harder for your lover to rescue you unscathed.
Mike runs towards Bonbon and leaps above him, dropping a fire bomb. He cartwheels to your chair and stands up immediately to untie you from the binds. But as soon as you get out of the seat, bombs explode on the two of you. He missed.
"Oh… oopsies. Sorry." He gives you a strained smile while his eyes display annoyance. You can't even be mad when he already looks guilty enough for the mistake. Ah, well he tried his best. What's fortunate at least is that you didn't get incapacitated and both of you managed to get away with the help of the speed boost of your will to live. The amount of miracles that happened in the overwhelming situation was absurd but you'd take any chance god gives you.
But unfortunately, your luck ends there. You all still end up getting eliminated and receive a loss for the match.
Both you and Mike are treating each other's burns in your room. It wasn't only you who suffered but him as well. He apologized to you profusely for his mistake at the match.
"If it only landed properly, the match could've gone better… damn…"
You use your arms to lift your weight to scoot closer to him, wincing when the burns in your legs brush with the fabric of the mattress. "We all make mistakes, don't beat yourself up over it."
"But look at us! We got cooked." He points at both your legs, which are wrapped in dressings.
"There's nothing we can do to change the past now, no matter the amount of regrets we have right now. We just gotta make sure it won't happen next time."
He hums in contemplation before replying to you, "You're right."
His head shot up as if an idea sparked in his mind and you look at him curiously "And next time, I'll do cooler stunts while I explode a bomb on their face! I'll do this cool flip like…" Mike motions his ideas with his hands in a way that's only comprehensible to him as you nod pretending–but trying–to understand.
"Oh, I have a lot of work to do!" He says, giddy with excitement and an earnest look on his face. Seems that he's recovered from his depressed state. You smile at him, glad that he's shining once again. But there's still one thing he needs to consider…
"Mike, you should let your legs heal first…"
"...Oh, right."
You two spend time with each other while also healing together. He'd caress your injuries and kiss them but they're burns. They hurt when touched so he can't (😔).
Mike makes you laugh by telling jokes and silly stories in return for you comforting him. He's even willing to serve you meals in bed if you want him to and no, he won't let you do any work. See it as a redemption for his undignified rescue, he says.
N: I think I focused more on the scenario than the caring part, especially at Mike's part and you can see very well which parts I gave up on oml 😭😭 Sorry this took long!
#identity v x reader#idv x reader#identity v imagines#idv imagines#mike morton x reader#victor grantz x reader#joseph desaulnier x reader#wish: granted!
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This is just my impression so far on the MCs of Ikemen Series. I have seen posts about Ikemen MC not having enough spite, dumb, damsel and distress etc etc....and to some point I do agree with it. Even I made a post about MCs being overly positive. But at the same time I feel like this is done on purpose from the writers' part.
Let's just say it, the MCs are not really that relatable even though they try to make it look like that. MCs in these games are very kind-hearted for no reason, overly positive and lack basic common sense. For example, take this scene from Harry's story event:
Harry did mention to her before this that he can detect if a person is lying or not when he makes eye-contact. In the scene mentioned above, a person with common sense can easily tell that Harry lost on purpose. But for some reason Kate thought he lost because she was able deceived him. It is only later that Harry told her and Kate looked genuinely surprised. I don't think Kate is dumb. But I feel like the writers think we players are not that smart enough to distinguish between Harry's lies and truth. It makes me laugh some times.
I just honestly feel like MCs are portrayed this way so that we players could understand the game and its characters better. Like Paimon from genshin, who repeats everything in baby terms so that we could understand what we have to do (even if her screechy noise is annoying). MCs here are played by us, so when male characters has a plan that they don't reveal, MCs try to find out what their plan is so that we could understand. That's it. MCs are here just simplify the story to make us understand the character's better. They'll only ask the male characters what's needed to know right now and not anything extra. If it where a realistic MCs, she would ask more logical questions like:
Is Victor also cursed?
If Crown consists of only 'cursed' people and Victor went around to search these people, are there any 'cursed' people out there who rejected his request?
More questions on their abilities like: Can Harry still detect lies if someone closes their eye? Can Elbert trigger sad memories if a person doesn't have a sad memory? etc etc...
But we don't see Kate asking these questions.
I feel like the reason why we feel sometimes frustrated when MCs act in a certain way is because these MCs are not at all realistic. I'll never believe that someone with common sense did not try to run away after watching a murder happen. I'll never believe that someone with common sense falling into easy traps. Like this one scene from Silvio's story where, Silvio's daddy visits Rhodolite because his lost son is found and he also wants to know if Rhodolite King is dead blah blah blah...you guys know that story (I assume). Emma has to choose the next King without Silvio's dad knowing and they wait for Sariel's call. A servant comes to Emma's room to call both her and Rio. This servant itself is sus because Emma clearly states that she hasn't seen that servant before. When I read this, I immediately knew it was red flag. But even so, Emma and Rio ignores the red flag and goes with the servant and what do you know? They get kidnapped. The scene was very predictable. But it's so frustrating because, realistically speaking I think normal people would feel a little bit suspicious about the person given the situation. Maybe even question the servant. That's why I'm saying...I do feel MCs are not realistic enough. I don't think anyone is overly-kindhearted to the point that they would accept insults from the male leads and be like "I'm going to prove myself to you!". Normal people would just be like "fuck off!" and won't listen to their insults. No one is so dumb it fall into easy traps and no normal person is like "I will work hard to get to know them better." Majority of the people are way smarter and way selfish (not in a bad way though!). Many people have attitude, not everyone are kind to strangers. That's why MCs are not realistic, so there is no use in comparing MC to your personality or your intelligence. They are just tools for explaining the story in a simplified way and moving the plot forward. Because like I said, if Emma and Rio didn't go with the servant and get kidnapped, Silvio's story wouldn't move forward.
That's all. This no hate, this is just how I felt after reading quite amount of stories both in-game and on tumblr. MC's don't have much background because the writers don't really put too much thought about their personality. MCs are basically last on their lists. They just make sure that she's an adult, working woman (doing some odd jobs like a flowershop lady or something, because I've never seen a CEO MC), and they are very kind for some reason. They don't have family (except for Emma), they don't have a story, they don't have anything that impacts their personality. At least it would have been nice to see why a MC is so kind-hearted would be nice. But otome games' main selling points are the male leads. The male leads falls for MC's purity in their dark world.
#this is just my opinion#no hate at all#i do think mcs in ikemen games are fine#ikemen series#ikemen villains#ikemen prince#ikemen genjiden#ikemen sengoku#ikemen revolution#ikemen vampire#ikemen game#otome#otome game#ikemen mcs
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Punishment
Peeta X Y/N
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“If he went after Katniss-“
“You aren’t Katniss.” My fathers grey eyes were bloodshot, the withdrawal and stress evident in every too visible vein. I didn’t miss the slight shake of his hands as he placed them on my shoulders, and tried to fight the anxious shakes that were threatening my hands as well.
“But-“
“We need to at least try. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” My father sounded desperate, and I didn’t blame him. Peeta had been a beamed of light for all of us, and now whatever had happened shrouded him in a darkness that had wrapped it’s hands around Katniss’ throat and nearly killed her. If the Capitol could turn him against Katniss if all people, I highly doubt he’ll be happy to see me. While I haven’t been the mascot for the rebellion like Katniss, it would be useful for the Capitol to make him hate me too. I was tied pretty directly to his time in the Hunger Games, being his mentors daughter and all. I couldn’t even count how many times Peeta had run over to my father and I’s house a all hours, eyes still clouded over by whatever nightmare had resulted in him screaming himself awake. The number of times I had sat next to him in front of our fireplace in silence, drinking hot cocoa with my hand wrapped I’m his in an attempt to comfort rose to the surface of my mind, along with a very specific night of body heat but I pushed that one as far away as I could. It wasn’t the right time to think of Peeta that way.
Finally I sighed and nodded. My father let go of my shoulders and led me towards the medical units. The impossibly sterile and bright white halls of the medical unit made me nauseous. Such a stark difference in the environment and what I knew laid behind the door we were approaching. I had seen him once through a one way glass, and nearly puked.
I heard him before I saw him. He was yelling something, both anger and desperation bounced off the stark white walls in a haunting echo. The sound caused me to pick up pace, I nearly ran to the door I knew he was strapped down behind. The yelling hadn’t stopped until I threw his door open. His head snapped towards me fast enough it just have hurt, his big blue eyes surrounded by shadows stopped me in my tracks as they searched me for something. The light in them kept switching between recognition and caution, like I was some plant he knew he’d seen before but couldn’t remember if it was poisonous or not.
“Peeta, Y/n wanted to see you. She’s been worried.” A voice came through some sort of speaker in the room, a doctor I’m guessing. Peeta nodded, eyes still not leaving me. I wanted to run up to him, hug him and tell him everything was okay now but the memory of the bruises on Katniss’ neck kept my feet firmly planted. I knew him and Katniss weren’t actually lovers, it was all for show and Peeta had told me many many times that he and I weren’t the same as he and Katniss, but they were still closer than most-shared trauma does that to you- and he had tried to kill her. It only made me more cautious as to what sort of reaction I would cause. If he tries to kill the person he had spent two Games trying to keep alive, what would he try to do to me?
“You look lovely.”
His voice broke the silence. His tone and the words didn’t quite match up, as it was quite blunt and more of an observation than a compliment, but it thawed a bit of the ice on my feet.
“Thank you, Peeta.” I gulped.
“You’re scared of me.” The same blunt tone escaped his mouth.
“No, not exactly. What do you remember about me?”
He looked down and blinked rapidly before looking back up at me and seemingly at loss for words. Does he not remember anything?
“Some…things.” His voice was now the cautious one. I took a step forward.
“Tell me. I’ll tell you if they’re accurate or if I remember them differently.”
“You’re Haymitch’s daughter. You live next door to me in the Victors square.”
I nodded.
“I go to your house when I have nightmares.”
I nodded.
“And we’re…”
I took another step forward.
My movement seemed to surprise him, and he blinked quickly again before the faintest blush touched his cheeks.
“What are we exactly?” He asked, eyes no longer meeting mine.
“We didn’t get the chance to really figure that out.” I breathed. This almost felt like talking to the old Peeta, but the air was too fragile.
“Katniss and I… but I thought…”
“You and Katniss put on a hell of a show. To survive. She’s your best friend.” I knew I had started to push a boundary. His eyes had darkened, face contorting in anger and confusion.
“No she..I loved her and she…She used me!”
I flinched. His anger wasn’t as painful as the certainty in his voice was. I loved her stabbed me in the gut as it echoed in the empty, too large room.
Someone must have yanked me out of the room, because I was suddenly in the hall way, staring at Peeta though the one way glass as he thrashed against his restraints, cursing Katniss’ name and screaming about mutts and monsters. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him until a shaky hand on my shoulder turned me towards them. My fathers grey eyes only took a glance at my face before pulling me into a hug.
“It isn’t real Y/n. The Capital messed with his head. This is-“
“This is my punishment isn’t it?”
He let go of me. An anger I never felt began to bubble in my throat. The stab wounds in my gut began to burn as I stared back into my fathers eyes and tears began to flood mine.
“This is my punishment! For being your daughter! For loving Peeta! For being in the way of the stupid, fake star-crossed lover’s bullshit! That wasn’t even my decision! That was you and Peeta! And now me and Katniss get to pay for it!”
I stormed out of the medical unit, everything too blurry to see exactly where I was going.
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My fave Sherlock BBC tropes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers
Around mid-month I’ll do a fic rec list with my fave AU genres or tropes. Summaries are taken from OP on AO3.
Enemy Number One by lookupkate
When Anderson finally crosses a line and gets fired a new pathologist takes his place. Sherlock isn't happy to find that the new doctor is almost as good at his job as Sherlock is. Said new doctor, John Watson, wants to woo the genius until he finds out what a prick he can be. Then he's just amused. And maybe a bit fond. And kind of smitten. Then he falls in love with the prick. Bloody hell.
Oscillation by lookupkate
John and Mary have been together for two years and John thinks they should probably settle down. John is happy with Mary. It's the only way their situation makes sense, so it must be happiness. Sherlock sees a flaw in that logic. What does John do then, when the strange man brings parts of his life into question and refuses to just bloody go away? Well, fall in love with him, of course.
Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 @alexxphoenix42
John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.
Mistletoe and Misdemeanours by Robottko
When Victor Trevor backs out of the Holmes family Christmas at the last minute, Sherlock panics because he has no way to impress his parents. Thankfully there is a handsome army doctor with nowhere to go in his coffee shop, though it would be more helpful if he were a bit more willing.
An Everlasting Inferno by thatawkwardfriend
Sherlock and John are both men who operate outside the law. John works for Mary and her hitmen in order to keep a roof over his head. Sherlock does anything his drug dealer asks of him in exchange for free drugs and housing.
They meet one night in a darkened garage to negotiate a deal. But they soon find out that neither of their bosses are being entirely honest with them about their goals or motives. With a little poking around, they stumble upon something much bigger than themselves and discover that perhaps, it might be in their best interests to work together.
(Loosely inspired by StartUp and Little Favour)
The Key to Castles in the Air by LadyKailitha
John is a clerk (and writing a book on the side) at a bookshop run by Mrs Hudson. The one downside to this perfect job is Sherlock Darling, Mrs Hudson's friend who loves to rile John up. About everything.
All that changes when they are forced to spend a week together in the country when bad weather hits. Sherlock's got secrets. What will John do once he finds them out?
Pencil Through My Heart by elwinglyre @elwinglyre
What’s worse? Sharing a byline with an arrogant consulting reporter or falling for him? Seasoned section editor John Watson faces this impossible choice. But first John must find him. Of course Holmes is out chasing the story of the century without him! In the process, Watson must reassess who and what he is, and even worse, admit he cares.
Aim for the Head by Breath4Soul
Sometimes you don't really find yourself until everything has ended.
A fic about finding love, healing, and purpose after everything has gone to hell.
As if the doctor can read Sherlock's thoughts, he holds out a protein bar in the space between them. Sherlock’s eyes narrow on the man and flick to the bar with an expression of disgust. “You're at least one stone underweight,” the soldier states matter-of-factly, confirming for Sherlock, in yet another way, that he is a doctor. “Eating slows me down,” Sherlock grumbles. “No, fainting does.” The army doctor smiles kindly, patiently. Sherlock looks at him with confusion. “What do you care?” Sherlock snaps. The soldier’s smile deepens and he gives a casual shrug, turning his eyes to the road a moment. “You faint; we crash.” The soldier’s eyes slide back to Sherlock with their placid expression.
A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada, ShinySherlock @ishipanarmada
(also on pirate and mermaid AU rec list)
Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose--is it a pirate's life for him?
Dive by FinAmour @finamour
It’s John’s third year of studying abroad at Harvard, and he’s still struggling to fit in. On a cold night in December, he finds his girlfriend with another man—and meets a tall, gorgeous bartender with horrible manners that he can’t stop thinking about. Just as John falls for him, madly, swiftly, deeply—the bartender disappears, and the bar unexpectedly shuts down. Unexplained occurrences begin to happen to John and his friends, and he slowly discovers the truth about the one he loves. Will he find him in time to tell him how he feels, and more importantly—can he keep him safe?
Synchronicity by Calais_Reno @calaisreno
Excerpt: John is just muttering some nonsense about bit different from my day when they enter the lab. A tall fellow with dark, curly hair is using a pipette to drop some liquid into a Petri dish. Hearing John’s voice, he looks up.
Sherlock Holmes. They both freeze for a moment. He stares into those grey eyes that haven’t changed, still seeing every detail. Holmes gives a tiny smirk. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” It’s been years, and he is surprised at how much it still hurts. Realising that he’s staring, he clears his throat, shuffles his feet, and mumbles something about an appointment he’s forgotten.
OR: John and Sherlock meet again, years after they were school boys together. John hasn't forgotten why he still hates Sherlock Holmes.
The Company He Keeps by wibblywobblytimeywimeystuff
At his lowest point, John Watson met Sherlock Holmes. And Sherlock saved him. At Sherlock's lowest point, he met Greg Lestrade. And they saved each other. This is how Greg met Sherlock, how he met Mycroft, and how he became important to them both.
Toe to Toe by standbygo @blogstandbygo
(also on soldier and spy AU rec list)
Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally. A crossover of sorts with White Nights, the 1985 film with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines.
If Baker Street Could Talk by a_different_equation @adifferentequation
There is a thin wall between 221b and 221c. As if by fate, it has separated two sitting rooms that now are almost morphing back into one. One of the sitting rooms belongs to Sherlock Holmes (43), a pianist, while the other one belongs to Dr John H. Watson (45), whatever he might be after everything. John is a war hero, an ex-surgeon and a widower; John tells everyone that he is developing a game that might take a lifetime. There might be a wall between them, but Sherlock Holmes and John Watson cannot be separated.
#my fanfic recs#my fave Sherlock BBC AUs#my fave Sherlock BBC tropes#my fave AUs#enemies to friends to lovers
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Can I have a cup of latte with some sweet cream and yes hcs of our CEO dealing with a pregnant wifey 🤧🤌🏻 Pregnancy reveal to labor that will be a thank you.
Firstborn
In his Victor way, he immediately sensed her presence and looked up from his work. Seeing the grin on her face, he immediately knew something was up. “What has gotten a dummy so riled up?” he asked, pausing as he glanced farther down and spotted the pregnancy test in her hand. He jumped up from the couch and hurried to her side, his large hand reaching for hers to grab the test. She relinquished it with no struggle and Victor stared at the little window. A laugh started deep in his chest and made its way to the surface, emerging as he wrapped his arms around his wife.
“See? All that worry for nothing! I told you that we just had to be patient! We have to celebrate. What would you like for dinner? I’ll make you anything you want. And I’ll call up the doctor to make an appointment. This time everything will go smoothly.” Victor scooped the girl up into his arms and buried his face in her hair.
She squirmed a little and squeaked indignantly, but Victor only laughed louder and carried her out of the office and into the living room. “I can walk, you know,” she insisted, his joy soaking into her soul and making her laugh as well. “But really all I want for dinner is a nice butternut bisque. I’m a little too nauseous for much more than that…”
Victor immediately set her down at the dining room table and went to the cupboard where he kept the tea and coffee. Soon the scents of ginger and peppermint filled the air and a steaming cup of tea appeared in front of the girl. “Drink this first while I make dinner, then. But give it a few minutes to properly steep before you greedily gulp it down.”
“It’s too hot to gulp anyway,” the girl protested, but Victor merely shook his head and began his preparations. She watched his strong and slender form as he cut, cleaned, and drizzled olive oil over the resulting chunks of squash. The edges of her lips twitched in a pleased manner and her heart felt almost too big for her chest.
In this moment, she was the luckiest girl alive. She picked up the teacup and inhaled the fragrant steam before blowing a soft breath over the surface of the liquid. As long as she had the love of that man, she had the entire world in her palm.
His baby wasn’t a bad addition, either.
The cup of tea was gone long before the squash had finished steaming, but the girl was content to sit at the table and just watch Victor work. He often glanced over at her and his dark eyes glittered every time he caught her staring. She enjoyed watching his skillful hands transform the hard vegetable into a smooth and creamy soup which soon he ladled into a bowl and placed in front of her. It was followed by a thick slice of toasted sourdough and another cup of tea.
Only once she was served did Victor dish up his own meal and join her at the table. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, dipping his spoon into the silky soup and blowing gently to cool it. The girl nodded and tore off a bit of the bread to dip into her soup. It was delicious, as was to be expected, and she didn’t even need to ask the ‘secret ingredient,’ because she already knew exactly what it was.
Joy.
~~~
Two months passed by as a moment and a lifetime simultaneously. The girl lost count of how many times she’d had to run out of a filming shoot, returning to the concerned looks of her coworkers.
Finally, Kiki pulled her aside. “Boss, we’ve all noticed that you’ve been ill a lot lately. Is everything okay?” She looked into the girl’s face with concerned eyes, seeming to seek the answer in her boss’s expression. The girl fought with herself for a long moment. Was it too early to make an announcement? She knew it would be another month before she was out of the most dangerous portion of the pregnancy, but if her coworkers were already getting worried…she knew she wouldn’t last another month without telling them.
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…don’t spread this around, okay? But I’m pregnant.”
A look of wild excitement filled Kiki’s face. “Oh my goodness! Congratulations, boss! How far along are you?! Has anyone planned a baby shower yet? Are you having a boy or a girl? How does Victor feel about it? This is so exciting!”
The girl slapped a hand over Kiki’s mouth, but that did little to quell the other woman’s excitement. “I’m only eight weeks along, but Victor and I are both very happy. We won’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl for quite a while.” She giggled and her other hand went instinctively to her stomach. “It definitely is exciting. But!! You have to swear not to go announcing it to the entire world, okay? I’ll tell the others after the shoot today, then you all can gossip to your hearts’ content with each other.” She shot Kiki a serious look, and Kiki straightened into a salute.
“You’ve got it, Boss! I won’t tell a soul!”
It was a promise which lasted approximately twenty minutes before the news was nearly enough to make Kiki explode. “But you have to act surprised when the boss tells everyone after the shoot, okay?” she whispered after spilling the beans to Willow.
“Oh, obviously,” Willow insisted. “And we’re also obviously going to plan a surprise party.” Kiki agreed wholeheartedly and the pair went back to the shoot. The day seemed to drag by even slower than usual as the secret burned a hole in their mental pockets. They did their best to look innocent every time the girl was nearby, but the moment she turned her back, the pair could barely contain their excitement.
By the time the shoot wrapped up, everyone was completely exhausted except Kiki and Willow. They were still hyped up on the high of their secret and practically vibrated with excitement when their little crew was called together.
The girl looked at each one of her friends and smiled. “I have a bit of an announcement. I was going to wait a little longer, but I have no doubt the cat would get out of the bag sooner rather than later. So here it is: Victor and I are expecting our first child.”
Cheers of congratulations filled and echoed around the mostly-empty set, making it feel as if the girl were surrounded by an army of well-wishers.
~~~
“But the casual white shirts go on the blue hangers, and the formal ones go on the black ones!”
The girl began pulling all of the clothes that Victor had hung up off their hangers and tossed them on the bed, her arms moving in far more exaggerated circles than was entirely necessary. Victor watched with exasperation, his arms crossed over his chest and his brows furrowed. “Why does it matter? Besides, they are my shirts. Shouldn’t it be my opinion that counts when it comes to putting them away?”
He may as well have declared the instigation of World War 3. The girl looked at Victor incredulously and threw the hanger she was holding to the ground. “Fine! If you’re so opinionated about it, I’ll just let you put them away yourself! And the closet can be a mess.”
“I already put them away myself once, and you pulled them all back out. That seems like you caused the problem, not me.” Victor’s exasperated tone only earned him a look that could kill a nation before his wife stomped out of the room and disappeared into the darkness of the rest of the house.
Victor took a moment to breathe. Why was everything a fight lately?! Good grief, it was the color of hanger for crying out loud. He’d thought putting away the laundry would make her happy, not cause yet another argument. He glanced over the pile of shirts on the bed and wondered where exactly he’d gone wrong.
A cloud settled over his heart as he picked up the shirts and ensured they were on the ‘proper’ hangers before putting them back in the closet. Every now and then he glanced at the bedroom door, half expecting to find her standing there watching. However, she never appeared. It didn’t take too long to fix the shirts and make the bed for good measure; only after that did he dare go seeking his wife.
Perhaps ‘seeking’ was the incorrect word. Victor was pretty sure he knew exactly where he’d find her. He easily crossed the dark house and opened the nursery door, standing in the doorway. Moonlight filtered across the carpeted floor and landed on the chair on the opposite side of the room, highlighting the small amount of dust which drifted back and forth as sand in the ocean.
Sure enough, the girl was curled up in the rocking chair, clutching a shiba plush. Even in the moonlight he could see the glisten of tears on her cheeks and he sighed. “Dummy,” he whispered, crossing the room in three long strides. She looked away, hiding her face behind the golden fur of the shiba. But Victor pushed it gently away and lifted her chin. He wiped away one of the tears with his thumb and kissed her forehead. “I love you, my little dummy.”
While the words were simple, they seemed to be the magic words which unlocked the door. A torrent of tears ran down the girl’s cheeks and she flung herself into Victor’s arms. “I didn’t mean to yell at you,” she sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. “I don’t know why I’m like this! It’s like I can’t even control myself and I hate it!”
Victor ran his fingers tenderly through her hair and held her close. “It’s just the pregnancy. You’ll feel better soon. Only six weeks left, hm? I’m not going anywhere, no matter how moody you get. So stop beating yourself up and come to bed.” He slid one arm under the girl’s legs and scooped her up. “You need your rest if our little one is going to be healthy.”
~~~
It was dark when the girl waddled into the office. She groaned a little and shifted on her feet, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. Unfortunately, there was no such thing at this point in the pregnancy. Her hand went for the lightswitch and she wondered idly how she was the first one there for the meeting. Anna had seemed quite insistent that it was incredibly important, and even Victor had seemed keen to get her here on time.
The lights caused her to go momentarily blind and she squinted as they adjusted. A jubilant shout of ‘SURPRISE!’ caused her to jump, but once she was able to open her eyes again, she was met with a room full of pink and blue balloons and streamers. Everyone she loved sat in chairs around the room with bright grins. Cupcakes decorated with pastel frosting and baby bottle sprinkles made up a large centerpiece, surrounded by various other snacks, while another table was absolutely loaded with brightly wrapped gifts.
A hand softly on her back propelled the surprised mother-to-be into the room; it was connected to a smirking Victor. “Come on, get in there. Your friends didn’t organize this just for you to stand in the doorway with your mouth hanging open.”
She broke out of her stupor and joined her loved ones for an evening of ridiculous games, eating, and opening of gifts. The sheer amount of love she felt from everyone in the room was a warm blanket which encircled her heart with tender softness. Each hug, each gift, and each kind word helped erase just a little bit more of the pain and discomfort of being eight and a half months pregnant.
And when Victor noticed that she was beginning to tire, he took her hand in his big, warm palm and addressed the room. “Thank you, everyone, for the party and the gifts. We very much appreciate it, but my wife is going to fall asleep in her chair if I don’t get her home soon.” She gave his hand a squeeze and with those they loved trailing behind them with arms full of gifts to load into the car, the happy pair returned home with far more than just a new mountain of belongings.
~~~
Of course it would be the middle of the night. The girl got up for what felt like the fifteenth time that night to use the bathroom, only to feel warmth running down her leg. “Too slow…” she muttered as she waddled into the other room.
However, it soon became apparent that this wasn’t a middle-of-the-night bladder leak. An intense pain gripped the girl’s stomach and she curled up on herself, letting out a strangled squeak of pain and surprise. It wasn’t incredibly loud, but loud enough to cause Victor to rocket up from the bed. His sleep had been poor for the last week already, just in case this exact thing happened.
“Is it time?!” he exclaimed, looking quite silly with his dark hair tousled upwards and his boxers slightly twisted. All it took was a single nod for him to spring into action, tossing on the clothes he’d specifically kept on the chair next to the bed for easy access and grabbing the hospital bag they’d lovingly packed together.
Minutes later the girl was dressed as well and Victor helped her into the car. His hands trembled as he buckled her belt, though out of fear or excitement was up for debate. Probably both. He hustled around the front of the car and into his seat, turned the key, and soon the pair were speeding down the road toward the hospital.
Each time a new contraction hit, the girl fumbled for Victor’s hand. “I’m right here. Just breathe,” he soothed, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “We’ll be there soon. I’m right here.” As Victor was wont to do in situations involving his wife, he drove with a reckless abandon in regards to the speed limit. They soon walked into labor and delivery, where the girl was whisked away while Victor paced the waiting room.
Luckily for everyone in the hospital, Victor was only made to wait until his wife was dressed and put in her delivery bed before he was allowed to go back with her. “It will probably still be a little while, Mr. Li. The contractions are still ten minutes or so apart, and she’s only at an eight. We’ll check in often, but why don’t you try to get a little rest while you can? When the contractions are two minutes apart or less, we’ll get the doctor in here.”
Victor nodded, though he knew there would be absolutely no rest for him tonight. Not until those sweet cries filled his ears, and that sweet bundle filled his arms. He sat at his wife’s bedside and held her hand as she did her best to remain calm through round after round of contractions. “I’m positive we’re having a boy,” she murmured. “I regretted deciding to wait to find out for sure, but now that it’s time…I think it’s even more exciting this way.”
“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, as long as we get a healthy baby.” Victor placed his hand on his wife’s belly and was rewarded with a solid kick. “They’ve definitely got your attitude…”
The hours passed by painfully slowly. Painfully being the key word. By morning, the girl was convinced this labor thing was never going to end. That was, until she was hit with contractions five minutes apart. Then two minutes apart. Victor pressed the call button repeatedly and the nurses soon arrived, the room filling with motion and excitement. The epidural went in and warm, blissful numbness took the place of the hot pain which had been filling her existence.
The doctor arrived and, after a brief examination, smiled. “Alright, love. It’s time to push, okay? Three breaths and push for me on three. One, two, push. One, two, push.”
Time felt like it stood still as Victor watched his sweet wife’s face flush, and her hand crushed his with each straining push. The doctor kept checking repeatedly, his voice encouraging. “You’re doing great, mama. I see a head! Keep pushing for me. Not too much longer now.”
And he was right. Two pushes later, the shrill sound of a baby’s first cry pierced the air. The nurses rushed forward with a towel and a clamp for the cord, while the doctor checked over the new life for signs of health. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Li, it seems you have an absolutely perfect little boy.”
Victor wasn’t even embarrassed about the tears that ran down his cheeks as the doctor wrapped the still-mucky little boy in a towel and handed him to his father. He was a chunky little man…and the most beautiful thing Victor had ever seen.
#everyone wants pregnant mc apparently#I do admit I love Daddy Vic very much#ask#mlqc victor#mlqc li zeyan#love and producer li zeyan#mlqc#evol x love#love and producer victor#love and producer#mr love queen's choice#mlqc fanfic#mlqc victor fanfic#asks open
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ELBERT GREETIA EVENT STORY....
CHAPTER ONE.
I want to steal you.
translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.
minors and ageless blogs dni.
Kate:….Wait!
Elbert: Kate, stand back….
Man: Don’t come….!
During heavy rain, the man runs across a bridge over the river.
The wooden bridge, which was shaken by the turbid flow of the flooded river, could not support the man's weight,
Man: Wha!? Aaaargh…!!
The man quickly fell into the muddy water and disappeared, along with the bridge that had been snapped off.
Kate: Oh, no——
Elbert:….It's okay.
As I was at a loss for words, Lord Elbert hugged me close to his chest as if to protect me.
Elbert: It's okay. ….You are not guilty of anything.
Elbert:….Forget everything you just saw.
━━FLASHBACK━━
The mansion we visited for a mission stood alone in the woods.
I, who usually traveled with William, was accompanying Lord Elbert on a mission this time.
We came to investigate the baron's mansion, the suspect in a series of kidnappings happening in this neighborhood.
Victor: It seems the killer is only targeting people who have a lover or a spouse.
Victor: The baron, who’s the main suspect, has a mansion deep in the woods, separate from his main residence, and he doesn't allow his servants to go near it.
Victor: That's where I want you to step in.
Victor: I know he secretly obtains sleeping pills, aphrodisiacs, restraints, and so on.
Victor: I don't want any more victims...please, both of you.
━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━
(But the mansion was empty...we followed the footprints leading from the back door——)
I look back at the muddy waters through the gap in Lord Elbert’s arm that protects me.
Kate: Why….Why did he force himself to run away like this when he hasn't even talked to us?
Elbert: He may have been suspected because I had asked about this mansion in the town at the foot of the mountain.
Kate: This is the bridge we came through, right? If we don't do something.…
(We can't go back to Crown Castle.)
Elbert:….Anyway, it is not safe to go near the river. Let’s go to his mansion, stay out of the rain, and then….we'll find another way.
And so, we ended up spending our time in an uninhabited mansion in the deep forest until the rain stopped.
Alone with Lord Elbert.
Kate: I’m drenched….I need to dry it off quickly.
As soon as we got back to the mansion, I looked for firewood, but there were only a few things that were dry.
(If I use it in multiple rooms, it may run out before we can even make it home….)
Elbert:…Let's spend time together in this room during our stay.
I nodded my head in agreement with Lord Elbert's suggestion, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.
As we struggled to light the fireplace, Lord Elbert stared at me and then himself.
Elbert: As for the clothes...it’s better to remove them and dry it off.
Kate: I agree. ….That way, it will dry faster and we won’t catch a cold.
Elbert:…Then, let's take it off.
Kate:…..
Lord Elbert began to take off his wet and heavy clothes without hesitation.
The sight of him wearing only a thin shirt was so unprotected/defenseless….that I couldn't help but turn my eyes away.
Elbert: I'm turning around. So….you, too should go ahead.
Kate: I see….thank you very much.
Elbert: Once you take your clothes off, you can wrap yourself up in the blanket there….and you'll be warm and less embarrassed.
Kate:….Okay.
I just couldn't leave the cold clothes sticking to my skin…..
With his back turned, I undressed and wrapped myself in a blanket, reflecting on how it all happened.
It was William's suggestion that I came on a mission with Lord Elbert.
(He seemed to see through that I wanted to know about Lord Elbert.)
The "cursed" are destined to sin and meet tragic ends.
I was a bit defensive when I heard that,
Realizing that they are also human beings who live with their own thoughts and feelings——
(I wanted to know how Lord Elbert felt….about his mission.)
(I was wondering what on earth this person, who does not look like a crown member, was thinking.)
(As William had taught me, I had to be honest about my desires, and this time I went along for the ride.)
(Never thought I'd see it coming….)
Elbert:….Kate, what's wrong?
Kate: N—Nothing…..
Elbert:….When you're done, come over here. ….By the fireplace.
(Even though he can't see me with the blanket….the thought of being in my underwear makes me nervous.)
I slowly sat down next to Lord Elbert.
(Ah, but...looking at the swaying fire makes me feel calm——)
In silence, the scene from earlier comes back to me.
Kate:….Was he really the kidnapper?
Elbert:…I don't know yet.
(Whether he was a kidnapper or not.)
(It doesn't change the fact that he died in front of us because we went after him.)
My heart aches dully at the thought of it.
Elbert:….You're not to blame, Kate.
Elbert: This is the crown's mission. ….You have no responsibility or blame.
Elbert: So...don't look sad.
Lord Elbert caresses my cheek, as if trying to wipe away my grief.
His expression was pained/bitter, as if he was being crushed by guilt.
(Lord Elbert is....very kind. A person who is kind and sensitive to other people’s pain.)
(He covered for me earlier….so I wouldn't go into shock.)
The depths of my chest grow warm and tender.
His kindness made me happy. Wanting to respond to his concern, I endured the pain and smiled instead.
Kate:…Thank you very much.
Elbert:…..
Kate: We’ll search the mansion tomorrow together and see if he was the kidnapper or not.
Lord Elbert fell silent as he stared at me.
Kate:….Lord Elbert?
Elbert: You are——
Then, unexpectedly, my stomach growled.
Kate: Ah…
Elbert:…..
Kate: A-Are….you hungry?
Elbert:…Sorry. I'm not very hungry.
(Oh, that's right, Lord Elbert doesn't have much of an appetite….)
(I feel like I'm a foodie. That's embarrassing.)
Elbert:…Hehe.
Kate:…!
(Did you just.....laugh?)
Elbert: I’ll search for something to eat…just wait.
Kate: ! I'm coming too…..
(….Why.)
(When Lord Elbert smiles, it makes me very happy.)
Maybe because the mansion is deep in the woods, stocked with a lot of preserved food, and it looks like it will last for a week.
My stomach was full, but my wet hair, underwear, and of course my clothes were not all dry.
Kate: It's time to get some sleep...but what should we do?
(It's rude to wear the clothes from this mansion without permission….and it's a little unsanitary, but—)
(If I sleep in my underwear, I might catch a cold…..)
Besides, if I were to actually sleep, I would have no choice but to use the bed——
Elbert:…Should we sleep together?
Kate: Eh!?
Elbert: I don't think you'll catch a cold if you stick close to me.
Kate: Umm, but….
(Sleeping with Lord Elbert…with this kind of underwear.)
Just imagining it makes my face hot.
Elbert:…It’s alright. I won't do anything…you don't like.
I felt that Lord Elbert's words were not only caring, but also very sincere….
━━FLASHBACK━━
He was touched by many people at the party once,
The image of Lord Elbert with a pale face came back to my mind.
━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━
I am sure that Lord Elbert does not like to be touched by others.
(And yet, he’s suggesting this…for my sake.)
Elbert:…Kate?
Kate: I don't want to do anything that Lord Elbert doesn't like either.
Kate: Are you okay with this, Lord Elbert?
Elbert:….Yes.
Elbert: I feel like…I'll be fine with you.
My heart skipped a beat. It was as if he was placing his trust in me...and I wanted to reciprocate that trust.
(Be honest about your feelings….)
The voice that William always whispers to me echoes in my head.
Kate: Then….—— let's sleep together.
Elbert:…Hm.
And so, we crawled into the bed.
His face, as beautiful as if it were a fabrication, was within touching distance of his breath. **
Elbert:…Isn’t it cramped?
Kate: Yes….it’s fine.
(I'm really not sure I should have agreed to this…..)
My heart beats restlessly and loudly all the time.
Kate: How long….can we stick together…?
Elbert:…As much as you want, it’s okay.
Kate: Ah….
I was hugged and his body clung to mine.
The warmth of the touch gradually spread through the air, and the sound of my heartbeat quickening.
(….It’s not like he’s doing anything funny.)
(But because of this…we are sharing our body heat.)
I soothe myself from the funny feeling I'm in.
Elbert: Do you feel warm…?
Kate:…Yes, Lord Elbert…?
Elbert: I'm warm…too.
(….I’m glad.)
Kate:….Good night, Lord Elbert.
Elbert: Good night, Kate….
Even though I don't feel like sleeping, my body is tired,
Before I knew it, sleep had overtaken me, and I sank into slumber, locked in the warmth of his arms.
Kate’s hand is resting on Elbert's chest while she sleeps.
Elbert: With you...even if you touch me, I don't feel terrified.
Elbert: ——To be touched like this in that mansion...
Elbert: I was in so much pain that I felt like throwing up——
Elbert:….I wonder why.
▸ [ next ]
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1. Introduction (Video #1)
Caroline
Hey everybody!
My name is Caroline Okamoto-Nelson. I’m seventeen years old, and I live in Willow Creek. I like horses, cooking, shopping and J-pop. I really love swimming. I guess you might even say I'm obsessed with it. I'm really good at it too, and I have the medals to prove it.
People often comment that I look like both my parents, which is super funny to me since I’m not actually biologically related to them at all. I guess people say I resemble them because I have pale hair and blue eyes like Victor, and I have Japanese facial features like Yuri. Honestly, though, I don't mind if strangers assume I'm literally theirs. I am theirs in every way that matters, and being adopted is amazing because I know they love me enough to want to make me part of their family forever. I love them a lot, and even though I think about my biological parents sometimes, Victor and Yuri will always be my real parents.
Yeah, I have two dads, and to avoid things getting confusing I should let you know that I usually call them by their names. Some people think that's weird and a few people think it's disrespectful, but it's not weird to me. I started out as Victor and Yuri's foster child when I was six years old, after my biological father passed away, and I didn't want to call either of them Daddy or Papa or whatever. They were okay with that, and when they officially adopted me about a year later, the habit had already stuck.
I do call Victor 'Dad' sometimes, probably a lot more often than I call Yuri 'Papa'. Yuri says I only call him Papa when I really want something, which... is kinda not inaccurate. Luckily, he has a good sense of humour about it.
Let's see... Another important thing you should know about me straight away is that I'm blind. Before anybody starts demanding to know how a blind person can use a camera and make a video, remember blindness is a spectrum. Most people who fit into the category of blindness can see at least a little bit. There aren't that many people who're totally blind.
As for me, I was born with something called oculocutaneous albinism, which is why I look the way I do even though I'm one hundred percent Japanese. My condition means I have no pigment in my skin, hair and eyes, and it's why I have low vision.
I can see well enough to get around, but I do use my white cane at night or in unfamiliar places. I'm able to read large print, and I can see enough to use my computer and phone if I wear my glasses. I can do most normal things, actually. The only things that are really off-limits are driving and anything that requires good visual acuity, like cutting in a straight line, putting small objects together or sewing. Unfortunately, this means I'll never get to be a nurse like Victor. That's what I originally wanted to be, until I got older and started to understand my disability and finally realized that I don't see the same way everyone else does.
I don't want anybody to feel sorry for me because of my disability. I'm not unhappy or bitter about it and I don't need anyone's sympathy or pity. As a matter of fact, I have an awesome life, and I wouldn't want to change a thing.
On the subject of my life, that brings me around to why I'm making this video in the first place. I just started twelfth grade last week, and my best friends Forest and Camellia and I decided to sign up for media studies as one of our electives. The course runs for the whole school year, and we have to do one major project as well as some small assignments. Camellia and Forest got permission to work together — they're twins and they seem to want to do practically everything together — and they're making a podcast. I decided my project is going to be a documentary about myself. A video autobiography, I suppose you could say.
The plan is to chronicle my life from now till June, but it's not just going to be a video journal about random stuff that happens to me this year. I want to tell the story of my life so far, about how I went from being an unwanted baby in Japan to being the loved, talented, cute and successful person I am today.
These videos aren't going to be only me talking in front of a camera, either. I'm planning to interview my friends and family, and maybe also to give them the camera so they can record some thoughts of their own. Then, I'll edit everything and get it ready for the final presentation.
I've decided to call it Caroline & Company. I may be the main subject of this story, but nobody can exist alone. We all need company. I don't think it'd even be possible to survive without the guidance and support of family and friends, not to mention teachers, coaches, therapists, doctors and all the other people we interact with on a daily basis. Every person in my life is important, so I feel like they need to be acknowledged in some way.
Our teacher, Mr. Blanchet, is going to help our class design a website so that all our projects will be available for everyone to see at the end of the school year. Maybe it's nerdy of me to be excited for a school project, but I"m really looking forward to doing this, and I can hardly wait to see what my classmates come up with as well.
I think it's going to be an incredible year!
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Undead Unluck ch.191 thoughts
[FOUR YEARS AND AN ANIME!!!]
(Contents: Celebration, predictions)
WE DID IT, EVERYONE!!! As of this week's chapter, Undead Unluck has officially been running for four whole years!!!
I don't recall, though, did UU take an extra week off at some point? It should be at 192...Ah well, it's not super important! We've officially hit the goal I've been asking for since day one, and I'm over the moon about it! The hashtag is no longer a wish for the future, but a celebration of success!
At the time, I did expect that it would end around now rather than merely approaching the final phase, but hell, I'm not complaining! I don't know if I necessarily want UU to hit the eight-year mark, it might start to feel like it's dragging by that point, but I also can't really imagine it doing that anyway
If we assume that we have five arcs left before Ragnarok (Top, Tatiana, Kururu, Backs, Ruin) and we generously assume that each is 10 chapters (only Rip and Latla's arc has lasted more than 10 since the loop), we should have at most another year until the final battle, though it likely won't even take that long since most of these recruitment arcs are more like 3-5 chapters per recruit. From there, the previous Ragnarok arc was about 40 chapters, so we'll overestimate again that the next one will last a full year
In other words, depending on how much Tozuka decides to take his time, I think we should be seeing UU running until June 2025 or January 2026! It's a bit sad to see the writing on the wall like that, but as far as I'm concerned, we're playing with house money right now! I'm glad that my favorite series turned out to be such a hit, and that it should get to resolve itself as it pleases! So few series get to go out on their own terms, I can't be upset when one of my favorites becomes one of the lucky ones!
Onto the chapter itself, this was such a cool fight! Andy holding off all ten of the Superior Rules by himself for three minutes is such a badass display of how far he's come, and shows us some cool ways he can use his soul techniques! We've heard of him using his soul to move his body before, using it to overcome Nico's copy of Unmove, but seeing him actively replacing his lost body parts with his soul?? Now that's sick!
100-Twist Vortex Bullet, Soul Vulcan, Soul Road...it's all derived from what we've seen, but all on a whole new level! Even the soul chains are taken straight from his fight with Ghost. It's like a perfect showcase of how far Andy's come in the last four years of serialization!
BUT! For how strong he is now, for how much stronger he apparently is than the rest of the team, he was only able to hold off the Superior Rules for three minutes. In other words, while you might think he's become an invincible one-man army that could do everything on his own, you would be absolutely wrong!!! He had to let the two weakest Superiors go to temporarily match #1 (who we can reasonably assume is UMA Soul), so while we can assume he'd be capable of facing Soul one-on-one, we also have to assume that Andy is still nowhere near Sun's level. It took everyone together to hold off Sun for 11 minutes, including Rebellion!Victor, and at least half of them died in the process. Andy, as he is now, could only hold off all ten Superiors for three; if he'd had to hold on for 11, they probably would have all escaped, and since we can assume that all ten together don't measure up to SUN, we can conclude that Andy is not so strong that he could solo Sun
Andy will be a tremendous asset to the final battle, but he will not be the single deciding factor. To beat Sun, it won't be enough to simply have everyone together, everyone will need to raise their level to be capable of at least soloing a Superior Rule like Andy did to Sick. In other words, Andy's display of power here isn't merely a way to tell us how strong Andy is now, but telegraphing how strong EVERYONE is going to be by the end!!! Even if they never quite make it to Andy's level, we can expect that our team is going to be absolutely made of monsters, and I! Can't! Wait!!!
Until next time, let's enjoy life!
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i guess it's hard to get a read on how much he actually cares about palatine and dauphine or reciprocates their dislike of him? also why did he say that about "sexual favors"
(this post is about the fanfiction sword and sorcery, which you should read because it's good. it's written by tumblr users shakertwelve and nonplatonicsubtext about their estateverse au, which you can read more about in the estateposting tag on tumblr user shakertwelve's blog. would i ever lie to you about a fanfic recommendation.)
ok ahem. i've posted about alec's opinions on palatine and dauphine before bc i think the dynamic potential there is hilarious and i'm so delighted that they got put into the fic. the fancy frilly little freaques are fiiiighting!
Alec Is So Entirely 100% Certainly Without Doubt more mad about palatine and dauphine than they are about him. it would frankly be more accurate to ask how much victor and amelia reciprocate his dislike, because they are living RENT fucking free in his sad little repressed brain. but, like all of his emotions, it's just not super obvious because of how repressed he is--he feels and displays everything in a very muted way. the posts i linked get into the main bits of Why He Does Not Like Them At All, but to elaborate based on analysis of what's actually in the fic:
“Regent had a run-in with them a while back, before he joined the team,” Tattletale said. “He was new to the city, so he didn’t realize what his costume choice would make people think of.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the Estate capes. “But he was doing things they don’t do and going to parts of town they stay out of, which caused some confusion. Eventually Dauphine and Palatine tracked him down to have a talk about it. It didn’t go well.”
as we can extrapolate from above, alec's history with them is like this:
he shows up to brockton bay as a severely maladapted, depressed, Generally Unwell cult-escapee on the young (and probably malnourished) side of 13 with effectively nothing to his name but his powers
as a weak cape without a team and zero social or systematic connections to turn to for help, he's forced to do very small-scale villainy just to scrape by enough to survive. and the entire time he is wearing his costume that veritably Screams "i am a special little prince please look at how wonderful i am." jesus christ he needs a hug.
these random cunts, palatine and dauphine, pull up and basically tell him to Fuck Off and stop Stealing Their Family's Schtick
these random cunts are also dressed fancy like him, and dauphine especially is someone alec would identify with fashion-wise, given that it's explicitly stated that her costume is princess-like. "Even with her elaborate costume, she looked more like a child’s princess doll than an actual princess." taylor rags on it, but it's still princess-like
this random fancy cunt, dauphine, is the daughter of...marquis, an incredibly successful, fancy villain with long hair who has a lot of money and lives in a mansion and, from alec's perspective, loves and cares about her dearly and buys her nicey clothes. and beyond just that, she has a brother who--instead of tormenting her & then laughing about it--wears a special fancy gleaming knight costume and bridal carries her around and is so sweet and nicey to her if anything bad happens. like, for example, alec getting pissy at her and tripping her.
we already know alec gets Insanely, Malevolently, Incandescently Jealous over someone he's engaged in hostilities w/ having a nice family. (see: him doing all that shit to sophia). we also know that he isn't very good at recognizing this jealousy in himself. (see: aisha revealing in late worm that alec only realized that he had done all that shit to sophia out of a jealous rage like a week or two later when he was talking to her about it.)
which is to say: alec sees dauphine as being Sorta Like Him, but if he had a 100% ideal family (dashing golden knight brother that takes care of her! rich fancy father who protects them and buys them nice shit! and they all live in a mansion!), and LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU. HE IS SO INSANELY JEALOUS HE HOPES THE ENTIRE ESTATE GETS HIT BY A NUCLEAR WARHEAD AND EXPLODES. ...all subconsciously, of course. he expresses this thru things like mocking her for being "a baby about a little trip" &c--insulting the vulnerability & familial care he certainly wishes he could have, while fully unaware why seeing it annoys him so much.
but i digress. keeping all of that in mind, you can see why alec would be infuriated & jealous towards them even if they were completely neutral towards him. but they weren't neutral towards him--instead, these people he views as being Like Him, But Living Out His Wildest Dreams, approached him to hassle him for accidentally appearing like he was one of them. local loving royal villain family approaches boy who is obviously projecting subconscious desire to be a beloved prince onto his costume design and goes "quit stealing our vibes," boy reacts with a parasocial grudge. his weird complexes about them shall reign eternal. he wishes he had a second, cooler palatine to beat the first, lamer palatine to death with hammers, and then bridal carry him to stand dismissively over dauphine's prostrate form as she weeps over the first, lamer palatine's corpse. and also he wants the second, cooler palatine to be hand-feeding him a bag of chips ahoy the entire time.
...i should stress again, this is alllll more or less entirely subconscious. alec doesn't know what the fuck he's feeling ever, this just comes across as a subdued vague annoyance/disdain for them.
so, why the weird "sexual favors" remark? it genuinely was not intended to be a harassing comment, nor do i think he genuinely would say he believes that marquis prostitutes his daughter if he thought about it for a second. but he does identify with dauphine in the sense that they're aesthetically similar enough for him to be extra-jealous about her. and so upon hearing "dauphine's favor," he takes the meaning of "you can have a favor from my kid" he's most used to as a child who was prostituted by his own villain father, and he projects it onto her. if i want to read into it beyond that, i think he might be unconsciously/impulsively trying to poke a hole in their family--a sort of [hopeful] "marquis sucks :)?" where he'd like to hear that marquis isn't as much of an envy-worthy dad as alec thought. meanwhile from the estate's perspective he was just a creep for no fucking reason. there are other, far more important things for lisa to be paying attention to during this scene, so i don't think she was wasting any time reading alec, but if she Was she certainly would've gotten a good show of severe mental unwellness.
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Perhaps
post on ao3
Pairing: Thrawn x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used)
Word Count: 3.6k
Series Rating: Mature (18+ only, minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: Thrawn notices everything, including the way his newest Imperial officer looks at him when she thinks he's not looking - and decides to do something about it.
Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, smut, POV Thrawn, xenophilia, no y/n, POV female character, orgasm delay/denial, BDSM, vibrators, voyeurism/public, workplace relationship, light dom/sub, our blue boy is into power play and don't we love him for it
You were pretty sure that time had, somehow, stopped.
Sweat slowly trickled down the back of your neck past your collar, threatening to stain your perfectly starched grey Imperial uniform. The thermoregulators couldn't be malfunctioning since none of your colleagues sitting next to you at the command table seemed to be perspiring like you were. You’d also been in this kriffing meeting for hours, so you wouldn’t be able to pretend like you’d just come from a workout either.
Praying no one would notice, you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible, staring straight at your commander’s blue-skinned face as if this was just another day, just another meeting. Nothing to see here. Nothing to —
“Is there something you’d like to say, lieutenant?” Thrawn suddenly queried, interrupting some moff droning on about last quarter’s numbers.
Your eyes — which were apparently glossed over, damnit— instantly refocused on Thrawn’s piercing red gaze, seemingly beaming straight through you and whatever facade you trying to project. He folded his arms behind him and stared right at you. He knew.
He always knew.
If anyone had been paying attention, they might’ve noticed the room’s apparent background buzz suddenly silenced. One might’ve thought the mild buzzing noise was simply part of the room ambiance, perhaps some monitoring gage simply cycling through. Definitely not something very specifically inside of you, vibrating, and being controlled by the Grand Admiral running this meeting.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, immediately straightening your posture and giving him a curt nod.
The corners of his mouth ever so slightly ticked upwards as he paused for a moment, looking at you, almost baiting you to make the next move. Everyone’s eyes on you, Thrawn secretly pressed a controller hidden in his uniform cufflink to turn your vibrator back on, dialing it up a few notches in an attempt to probably catch you off guard.
Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you pressed your legs together and bit your tongue. You controlled your breath best you can and stared straight back at him, giving your best impression of a nonplussed Imperial, hoping everyone else in the room would buy it but him. Praying they would all assume the sticky tension in the room was strictly professional, nothing more.
Knowing it was anything but.
The moment passed. Thrawn dipped his head gently and moved on with the meeting’s agenda, deftly guiding the conversation with his usual brilliance and aptitude. You had to admit that you admired him for it. There was no one else like Grand Admiral Thrawn, even if these middle management Imperials couldn’t get over themselves enough to ever admit it. He was special. Incredible, really. Always came out on top, always in charge, always the victor.
This entire situation revolved around that dynamic. You loved it. But today, you wanted to tease the Grand Admiral. Show him that you were more than just a plaything, a pet. Two could play this game, surely. Had anyone ever called Thrawn’s bluff successfully and lived to tell the tale? Something sinful inside of you needed to know. Needed to watch him lose his cool for once.
What would it look like to see his blue skin blush?
—-
When you had first been transferred to The Chimaera, you thought your instant admiration for him was for his clear prowess in the battlefield, incredibly able to calculate and strategize several steps ahead seemingly on the spot. Everyone else was terrified of him, but you found yourself drawn to his quiet, restrained kind of power. You couldn’t help yourself, like a moth to a flame. It should have scared you, how much you were drawn to him - but it never did.
And then, one day, when you were personally tasked with bringing Thrawn a report, his red, glowing eyes locked with yours for the first time … and you felt like you were on fire. A warm, devastating flame that melted your heart into some kind of lava now flowing through your veins. You suddenly knew you would do anything for this man. He knew it too, even then.
Months passed, and you both gravitated more and more towards each other, like two suns irretrievably trapped in orbit. A lingering touch as he passed by your console. A stolen glance as you passed each other in the hallway. Soon, Thrawn requested for you to be on his personal detail, insisting on all non-urgent communications while off-duty being run through you. You thought your heart might explode.
The two of you quickly became familiar, even almost friendly; a tentative bond that only strengthened with more time and experience. You made sure you never let him down. You were always on time, always ready, always prepared.
You’d also convinced yourself that you put your best foot forward because you admired him. But in the middle of the night when you touched yourself thinking about all the ways you wished he would, you knew better. And up until today, even though you’d desperately wanted to, you’d never made a move.
He was a Grand Admiral. You were just a lieutenant. What if you’d been reading this all wrong? You couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk losing whatever this was.
So when he unexpectedly called you into this office before this meeting, you’d slightly panicked. Thrawn never did anything unintentionally, but meeting alone in his office was highly unusual, even for him. And as you briskly walked the ship’s hallways towards his office, you tried to run through every possible scenario or reason for being called in so unexpectedly. Stopping in front of his door, you ran your shaking hands over your hair and pulled down your crisp uniform tightly to make sure you’d at least look at pulled together as possible before going inside.
You held your breath as you opened the door.
—-
Grand Admiral Thrawn was nothing if not always prepared. Always analyzing, always dissecting, always watching. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help that life always seemed so … predictable.
Which is why art had become such a deep fascination: it was expressive, unique, even volatile at times. A true artist knew the rules and knew how to break them. Privately, he liked to think of himself as an artist of sorts, albeit the strategic and militaristic type. Humans rarely appreciated his kind of art, however.
It initially bothered him, but he’d eventually learned to set aside any feelings of unappreciation. He'd told himself that feeling wanted wasn’t practical, and that was that.
But the last few months with his lieutenant had proven unique. There was a warmth, a kind of delicious heat that accompanied so many of their interactions, especially as of late. initially, Thrawn hadn't recognized it for what it was, having practically blinded himself to anything regarding carnal desire. Humans more often than not had exhibited xenophobic tendencies with him, so he forgave himself for his initial misgivings about the matter.
However, it couldn't now be any clearer how his lieutenant felt, and that knowledge set something inside of him aflame. Feeling admired, feeling wanted, feeling appreciated... Thrawn realized a rare opportunity. Perhaps instead of just being an artist… he could also, in a way, be the art.
The idea both thrilled and terrified him, which thrilled him even more.
Thrawn was so used to being the one in power, the one making the call. What would it be like to give in to physical pleasures and just be... desired? He had never done that before.
Curiosity piqued, he rationalized to himself that he could surely still be in control while allowing himself to be admired. After all, how could he call himself a lover of art if he hadn’t done everything he could to fully understand it?
And after months of painstakingly setting the ground for what could be a most fascinating experiment, Thrawn was more than ready to test that theory.
—-
“Hello? … Grand Admiral?” You voiced, tentatively.
A moment, then you heard his familiar timbre call out, “In here, lieutenant.”
Licking your lips and ignoring that fluttering feeling in your chest, you started towards the Grand Admiral, smoothing your uniform nervously while glancing down at your polished boots walking towards the unknown.
As you entered the room, you quickly looked up to address Thrawn. Instantly, your brain short circuited at the immediate image you saw with your mouth agape.
Thrawn had clearly just been sparring with two robots, now standing up from what must have been an intense sparring session based on the sheen of sweat dappling his muscular body.
He wasn’t in his standard Imperial white uniform either, but rather, a black tank that stuck to the ripples of his chest like a second skin. Below, trim grey pants that matched and smartly covered his toned body. His typical sky blue skin was a deeper, more vibrant cerulean, practically glistening in the light. His typically slicked back dark hair was slightly tousled, spare strands hanging down and framing his angular face, making him look ever so slightly undone instead of the typical calm and collected commander. Almost … wild.
He glanced up at you with a gaze so intense you thought you might pass out on the spot.
“Rukh”, Thrawn commanded, instantly turning off the bots and officially ending the spar session.
As he righted himself, you straightened up your posture and tried to look as professional as possible, starkly contrasting Thrawn’s apparently casual approach to this meeting.
“Lieutenant, thank you for coming here so quickly,” he said, chest still heaving gently from the workout. Running his hand through his damp hair absentmindedly, he continued, motioning over to his data pad on his desk. “There’s … something I think you should see.”
You cautiously circled around behind his desk to look at the data pad, only to see a series of videos — of yourself.
Security camera footage of you on your shifts, walking down hallways, even in the mess hall. Your heart racing, you turned to face Thrawn with a quizzical look on your face.
“…Sir?” You queried.
“Tell me what you notice about this footage, lieutenant.” Thrawn responded, now beside you, eyes slightly narrowing as they locked with yours.
Gulping, you turned back to the data pad and looked more closely at the screen. You focused on the top video first, noticing that it was from a meeting only a few days ago, led by Thrawn himself. Scanning to the next video, you saw yourself on deck standing next to Thrawn during a battle presentation. And as you looked at the third video on the data pad where Thrawn walked by you in the mess hall, you gasped.
These weren’t just videos of you. They were videos of you and Thrawn.
And - dank ferrick - you quickly realized exactly what else they had in common.
The footage from the meeting slowly zoomed in on your face as Thrawn went over strategy, clearly picking up the way you chewed your lip watching him. While Thrawn was leading The Chimaera to battle, you were clearly staring at the Grand Admiral with glossy, half-lidded eyes. Kriff, were you rubbing your legs together? You watched in horror as you saw how the security camera caught the way your eyes hungrily flicked down Thrawn’s body as he passed by in the mess hall, only to bite your lip as you watched him walk away.
The air was suddenly too thick to breathe, your uniform collar unbearably stiff. You knew you had it bad for your commander, but had no idea how kriffing obvious it was to anyone who was watching. Panicking, you dropped his data pad on the desk and moved to step back from him, unsure of what you could possibly say to remedy this situation. But before your legs managed to make the first step, Thrawn’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, instantly stilling you.
“Lieutenant,” he said, almost purring, still holding on to you tightly. “I don’t believe I’ve relieved you of duty yet.”
“Y-yes sir,” you stammered. “Of c-course, sir, I didn’t want-“
“Oh, but you did want, lieutenant,” Thrawn coolly interrupted as he turned from his desk to face you, your wrist now helplessly held in front of his expansive chest, your body burning under his assessment.
You felt something stirring in your lower body but impossibly tried to control your features so you didn��t do anything stupid. Like think about how he was still touching you. Or how incredible his chest probably looks right now. Or the glint in his eyes that felt like a double-edged sword right up against your throat.
“I typically prefer my officers to be observant and thoughtful,” Thrawn continued. “But perhaps, for the moment, thinking is not what this situation requires.”
So you just stood there, dumbly, desperately, simply staring at your commander like you were waiting for orders. And maybe you were.
“Lieutenant,” Thrawn continued as he let go of your trembling wrist, hungrily watching it fall next to your thigh. “I believe you to be a fine officer, one who can and has operated with discretion. Someone trustworthy. Do you believe that evaluation to be correct?”
“Yes, sir.” You stammered, heat pooling in your chest. “And it’s been an honor to work more closely with you, sir.”
He lazily drew his eyes back up to your face, grinning, subconsciously reminding you of a loth-wolf stalking its prey. You chewed your lip nervously, not missing how his red eyes immediately darted towards your mouth upon doing so.
“Closely, indeed.”
You could’ve sworn you saw his tongue peek out and wet his lips.
Thrawn then cocked his head at you and slowly moved to your right, continuing to look you up and down as if he were appraising a fine work of art. You stood there with your heart racing, eyes locked ahead, body at full attention.
“You also have an impeccable record and have been a loyal servant to the Empire.”
Thrawn paused behind your shoulder and reached around you, grabbing your chin and tilting it back towards him. “And, subsequently, loyal to me.”
Your face, inches away from his, blushed furiously. “Yes, Grand Admiral,” you breathed.
It’s intense. More intense than it should be.
Thrawn carefully leaned in towards your ear, his breath heating the back of your neck and causing your skin to gooseflesh instantly.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
You could practically hear yourself dripping.
“Lieutenant,” Thrawn started, regaining his composure and folding his arms behind him as he started to gently walk around the room. “I brought you in here today to prove a theory of mine. One that I have been holding for months, truly curious what might come of it.”
You nervously watched as the Grand Admiral paced the floor, something you’d seen him do a hundred times during battle. There was something so strong, so compelling about how he owned the room, how he was always three steps ahead of everyone else. But as you watched him now, muscles gently rippling as he moved, stripped of his typical uniform and into something so casual, you thought he’d never looked more powerful. And it thrilled you.
It wasn’t until a few moments later you realized he had stopped talking and was watching you, watching him. Wait, was your mouth open?
You quickly clenched your jaw and shook your head to come back to reality only to see him shoot you a sly smile as he continued.
“The video surveillance was merely a tool to easily show you what I had already noticed. And, seeing you today, so willing … I believe my theory to be correct.”
You gulped. “Willing, sir?”
Thrawn stopped pacing and stared out of the transparisteel viewport on the far side of the room. You could see his red eyes burning in the reflection, their smoldering intensity surpassing the twinkling stars outside.
“Perhaps,” he mused.
—-
“Perhaps,” Thrawn remarked with a wave of his hand, dismissing the captain’s concerns about … wait, what are they talking about? Kriff. You’d been thinking back to how this all started and clearly lost focus in the current meeting.
It didn’t help that you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs by this point. He had clearly been slowly ramping the vibrator up as the meeting progressed, wanting to see how much you could take before one of you broke. If you moved your hips back just a bit, you could probably end this all right now—
You gritted your teeth in frustration. No, you could do this. You were practically panting and squirming so much it was surely distracting the other meeting attendees, but you couldn't think about them right now. Not when you were this worked up and affected. Glancing over at Thrawn, you expected to see him as calm as always. However, you noticed something small that made your entire chest go white hot.
He was clenching his fist. A moff was talking about hyperspace fuel routes and Grand Admiral Thrawn looked as tense as a leader in battle.
He must be just as affected as you were.
Playing with fire, you decided to tempt fate and stick out your chest ever so slightly. This ended up backfiring as your pelvis rocked back and sent pleasant electric shocks up your body nearly taking you over the edge. You were so wet. Your mouth slightly opened and eyelids grew heavy with the new pressure, instantly captivating Thrawn as he immediately looked your way, unable to help himself. You absentmindedly wondered if Chiss men had heightened senses of smell.
In an attempt to rein it all in, you cleared your throat and slowly leaned back, regaining that Imperial stiff upper lip everyone in this room would expect. Thrawn continued to stare at you, a slight purple seeming flushing his cheeks. So that’s what it looks like.
“Pardon me,” you began. “This meeting has unexpectedly gone over and I’m needed elsewhere urgently.”
“I’m afraid I must also join the Lieutenant,” Thrawn immediately added as he scooted his chair back. It seemed as if he was about to stand, but then thought otherwise and remained seated, crossing his legs. “Might you summarize the remainder of your findings so we may conclude this meeting?”
... Wait, why didn’t Thrawn just end the meeting? It took you a moment of frustration until you realized gleefully that he must be unable to stand.
Biting back a smile from this heady realization, you nodded at Thrawn and turned your attention back to the moff, who was clearly planning on berating a lieutenant for interrupting him until Thrawn threw his support behind you. That’s not the only part of Thrawn I want behind me —
As if he could hear your dirty thoughts, Thrawn decided to punish you and turned the vibrator up even higher. You could have screamed in any other circumstance, but your immense need to beat Thrawn at his own game managed to somehow hold it all together. Everything inside of you was whirring around, flowing like hot lava through your veins, pulsing to a rhythm only you and the Grand Admiral could hear. The buzzing seemed so loud; surely even these Imperial dolts were catching on by now, you worried.
You didn’t dare look away and see what Thrawn’s face looked like. It would send you over the edge for sure. Seeing a man with such power and such control being completely undone — by your pleasure — was almost too much to even think about.
You knew this was not how he thought this “exercise in self-control” would go, and you knew he was going to punish you for disobeying him. You hoped he would. Hoped he would take you back to his room and take you in front of that transparisteel viewport in front of all the stars, all the galaxy watching you —
“Lieutenant.” The moff quipped dryly. “Are you well? You seem quite distracted. Surely a matter of this importance is not boring you.”
Snapping back to reality, your eyes focused on their displeased face and tried to think of the first thing to say that wasn’t drenched in the filth that almost fully occupied your mind right now.
“Of course not,” you responded, fidgeting with the hem of your uniform. “I just want to respect the Grand Admiral’s schedule and conclude this meeting as quickly as possible. Do you not share the same goal?”
It was borderline bratty, you knew. You couldn’t help it. Not with this vibrator pulsing inside of you, threatening to undo you at any given moment.
You didn’t even have to look at Thrawn to feel his small smirk spread across his face.
“The Lieutenant is quite right,” Thrawn purred. “Please continue with the meeting, so the rest of the room may be up to speed. Forgive me as I take my leave to attend to other pressing matters.”
The purple blush from his face seemingly cleared, Thrawn stood up decisively and pushed his chair back into the table, turning to leave. You froze, not sure if you were able to leave or were being asked to stay. You weren’t even sure you would be able to physically get up and walk out the door, if you were being honest. Maybe Thrawn had won after all, and he was leaving you here to continue to suffer as a punishment.
The Grand Admiral paused, and looked back over his shoulder. “Are you joining me, Lieutenant?”
In that moment, you knew he would never leave you like that. He needed to watch you, needed to see you suffer for him. Leaving you with a bunch of stuffy middle management to enjoy your suffering? Thrawn was a connoisseur, a patron, a purveyor of the arts. He wasn’t about to let one of his most intriguing artistic endeavors blossom without him. He needed you, needed to enjoy what he’s done to you.
You could suddenly see it in his eyes. The hunger. The appetite. The quiet pleading.
Oh.
The surge of power was almost too delicious to bear. Knowing you were actually the one truly in control, you grinned, wickedly.
“Perhaps,” you quipped.
#thrawn#grand admiral thrawn#thrawn x reader#thrawn x you#thrawn x oc#thrawn fanfiction#thrawn fic#thrawn x female!reader#thrawn ascendancy#chiss ascendancy#imperial fanfiction#thrawn fanfic#thrawn x f!reader#perhaps fanfic
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Prompt from @starsinmylatte : “Thrawn celebrating his lover’s victory? The grand result of something they’ve worked long and hard for”
Let’s be honest with ourselves here, competence is a huge kink of him. Like, that’s the sexyest thing you could ever do in his eyes, period.
It’s a bit short, sorry. No bêta reader involved, sorry for any typo!
You walk down the gangway, your weapon bumping against your tight, a hand pressed on your earpiece, joining your different teams.
"Report."
"Everything is under control here, Commodore. The pirates have been arrested and are guided towards the cells."
You switch frequencies.
"Technicians, report."
"The overdrive is offline and the console has been locked, Commodore. The ship is yours."
"What about the goods?"
"They were indeed in the storage rooms, all the gaze stolen from the Empire. Judging by the quantities, it's the mother ship. You've succeeded, Commodore."
You stop to savor those words, after seven years of track.
You've succeeded.
_____________
Walking towards your room on the Hurricane, you untie your hair with a sigh. You're tired and dreaming about a warm shower.
The door slides shut behind you and a shadow appears before you, seizes you by the waist and makes you swirl in your room. You let escape a yelp of surprise as your feet don't touch the floor anymore. You grasp Thrawn's shoulders for support, before he puts you down.
"Thrawn! What the-"
You can't finish your sentence as he scoops your face and pulls you into a languorous kiss. Your eyes open wide, but you immediately relax, wrapping your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair. You embrace him with all your might as he pushes you gently against a wall, pressing his warm body against yours. You feel the fever rise, feeling his hands roam on your body, your sides, your back… You finally part, panting like after a frantic run, but your swollen lips are the proof of a more sinful activity. He put his forehead against yours and you inhale his fragrance.
"Weren't you supposed to be on Coruscant?" You ask breathless, surprised to find him on your ship.
"I came as soon as I heard the news." He brushes your cheeks with his thumbs. " You did it, Ch'acah." He grins.
You raise your head and your eyes finally meet. You only see love and pride in his burning orbs.
"Congratulations. You deserve this victory."
"It was a team effort." You temper. "I wouldn't have done it without the hard work of my crew."
"You do not need to be modest in my presence. They would not have done it without you to guide them. Those laurels are yours!" He kisses your forehead, pulling you into another hug.
You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart while your heart flutters at his assuring words. You feel your ego grow but try to keep it at bay, so many officers lose their way like that.
But still, it feels good.
"I have talked with the board back there, you are up for a promotion very soon thanks to your feat.” He murmurs lowly in your ear, squeezing you. “You may soon direct your own ISD”
You look up at him with hope. What an upgrade!
Your own ISD.
You like how that sounds.
"Come." He takes your hands. "I have prepared a feast worthy of the Emperor, and we will see how to celebrate your success in a… Proper manners."
He devours you up with his gaze and licks his lip, you feel your face heaten up at the innuendo. You follow him with a beating heart, ready to be crowned Victor.
#thrawn x f!reader#thrawn x reader#thrawn x you#thrawn x y/n#grand admiral thrawn#thrawn#mitth'raw'nuruodo#fanfic#vibratingskull
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How do you think Doom's dictatorship should be portrayed? I'm personally always very uncomfortable when writers try to go the "benevolent autocrat" route, and after making online friends with an F4 fan whose parents and extended family actually suffered under such a regime (and who is imo rightfully furious whenever writers try to depict Doom's rule as being actually good or "worth it"), in addition to everything going on in Eastern Europe right now and the alarming rise in nationalist and authoritarian-leaning politics/politicians/ parties/voters all over the world, I'm admittedly even more critical of that depiction. It just seems incredibly irresponsible, disingenuous to how real-life human hierarchies/economies/politics/psychology actually work, and disrespectful to the past, present, and future victims of these regimes. (Not to mention the fact that Lee/Kirby, two Jewish WWII vets, were pretty explicitly satirizing the very concept of "benevolent dictatorship" with Doom in their original F4 run, and being Doom's two daddies, they'd probably know best.)
But that's just my opinion, and I'm curious to what extent (if any) that you agree with me, as a fellow Doom connoisseur. Thanks, and I hope you and your loved ones have a safe and blessed rest of your week. <3
Thanks and I hope you and yours are healthy and safe as well ❤️
While I don't personally know the other F4 fans you speak of, or what the full context is around their feelings for Doom, I do understand why they and you might be uncomfortable with characters like this and that's fine since you don't have to like characters, and if they want to be mad at writers for portraying Doom that way then that's their right but I don't agree with them. I'd personally rather Doom be a benevolent autocrat than the writers try to inject hilter dictatorship into Doom's character/imagery. I find that very disturbing for a character like Victor to be subjected to, because Nazism isn't something I take lightly and definitely feel it's inappropriate for a character with Victor's background to ever be linked with.
I'm gonna put this really simply; it's fiction. Doom can be a benevolent autrocrat, be beloved by his people, have little children throwing flowers in his path, and be a villain to the Fantastic Four at the same time and be depicted as a good thing for the Latverian people because it's fiction.
There's a time and place for discussion when it comes to how fiction affects real life, but it doesn't work in Doom's case because showing Doom in this light does not mean any writer endorses an autocratic ruler nor will have an impact in Real Life because there is no such thing as a real life benevolent dictator who gives his country and people free healthcare, education, safety, security, prosperity, and the freedom to worship whom they please/live their lives in return for their complete obedience and being unable to critize Doom's rule. It's literally never happened in real life. There is no such thing as a good government in the entire world, because there will always be a time or government or leader who has harmed their people or other people in all manner of ways. There is not one single country in the whole world that gives equal rights to every citizen, doesn't harm people either physically or through their laws/government system, and provides everything every single person needs with justice and fairness.
You say it's disrespectful for writers to portray Victor in this way but disrespectful to whom? Disrespectful to people who suffered under real life dictatorships? They don't have to like the character or agree with the writer, but I've already established that a fictional character/story doesn't take precedence over real life suffering and I hope people understand there is a line of separation between enjoying fiction that has flaws/isn't good/has darker elements vs real life. As readers it's our responsibility to determine what we can and cannot handle in fiction.
Disrespectful to the characters? Latveria is fictional, the characters are all fictional, if we take into context the history of Latveria in the 616 and look at Victor through the eyes of the citizens of Latveria, both Romani and non Romani citzens, then to them Victor is a hero, he led a rebellion and resistance against the rich and powerful ruling royal class of Latveria who were absolutely horrible to their citizens.
If we are continuing in the context of the 616 universe, "how could Doom's people love him/look up to him even though he's set on world domination" then you have to acknowledge first that world domination isn't feasible in the real world at all, that's a non issue, and second that Doom wasn't created out of thin air, he didn't wake up one day and go "well I'm gonna take over my country and then the world" He was built from the oppression and crimes against himself and his people by the ruling class of Latveria. Kirby and Lee's origin for Victor isn't one of a tyrannical overlord deciding he's in charge, it's the story of a boy outcast from the main society because of his background, oppressed by the government/ruling class, orphaned as a child, and hellbent on gaining power because of his circumstances.
If you feel Victor is satire then that's your interpretation but I personally feel that silver age villainy is an era comic readers have outgrown and shouldn't apply to today's character, because by that logic then Magneto would still be seen as an allegory for mutant supremacy because that's how Kirby and Lee portrayed him, but instead over time he was transformed into a character who's past suffering had a righteous (if flawed at times) cause. Both Doom and Magneto were made in the same era but while Victor's past was laid out from day one, Erik's past was created so much later.
Just like the Mafia Boss with the Heart of Gold, who is a totally bad guy but he protects his people/loved ones is a fictional and very popular trope, it's unrealistic in the real world because Mafia/Mob/Crime bosses make their living doing things/crimes that hurt others.
Anyways I think it's a non-issue that Victor is portrayed as a benevolent autocrat. I think it's interesting to have him be portrayed as such because it fits into his characterization of him believing that all people who don't have his level of intelligence are beneath him and he must treated as children or sheep he must herd and care for. It fits with his ego being so large that he believes that him being in charge is the only path forward. It's a great way to study the character too because Victor is very fascinating to me.
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hey! first off, js wanna say that i LOVE your art and style, and having just binged chosen faces for the first time, I am. smitten.
and so I had to ask you this question- feel free to ignore it if it somehow has spoilers - but ik that you don't plan to cover s2 apart from short scenes that spark your interest, but do you think your aziraphale would've made the same... decision that he made in canon? towards the end?
also can he take metatron in a fight :D pls say yes :D
Oh man oh man, this one really made me think!
I don't think answering this is spoilers in any way, as we already know I'm following S1 canon (even if you don't know what changes to events I've yet to make).
So the question is whether or not Chosen Face!Aziraphale would have accepted the Metatron's offer, and tried to convince Crowley to join him and become an angel again.
Granted, as of now, we do not know the full story of why TV Aziraphale reacted the way he did. We didn't even get to truly see the conversation he had with the Metatron on the offer, only what he tells Crowley. And I don't trust him to be a reliable narrator. Let alone that we never see him say 'yes'. He just says 'I don't know what to say.'
There's a lot of really interesting theories about the new season and why characters act the way they do, but for the purpose of this ask I'm going to go with the assumption that everything we saw on screen is accurate, without anything happening in the background or death threats or spiked coffees to explain their actions.
And to this end, I'm going to bring up these past two responses to Q&As:
Because I started this comic pre-S2, I have their very first meeting being on the wall of Eden. CF!Aziraphale never met angel Crowley. He has no assumptions of how happy Crowley was prior to Falling.
TV!Aziraphale is complex and fallible, which is why I love him, but he also has shown that when faced with the ultimatum of running or facing the threat, he'd sacrifice his own happiness for what he felt was right (the bandstand). The end of S2E6 felt much the same to me in this. The Metatron is obviously manipulative, and Aziraphale has a lot more growing to do (as does Crowley, whose response was again to run off together), but at his core Aziraphale wants to do good. It's just whose definition of 'good' and to what end that he wibbles over.
Would CF!Aziraphale react the same? Well, kinda no, but also unfortunately yes. I'm so sorry.
I don't think the setup could have been the same. CF!Aziraphale doesn't harbor any notion of Heaven being purely good, and hasn't for a good while. But he does want to believe that God has a plan, and that if he can figure out that plan, he can win the game. By this I mean, Aziraphale's initial goals were to be on the "right/winning" side of the game, so he joined the angels as a tactical advantage. But as he grew to love earth and genuinely wanting to be kind, winning the game meant less of being a "victor", and more "If I figure out the game plan, I can subvert it if need be."
He doesn't know what the plan is. But he does think the Metatron would know. So an opportunity to infiltrate their ranks and be able to make real structural changes that wouldn't break reality? Yeah, I could see him taking it. And since giving Crowley the holy water, Aziraphale has trusted Crowley to keep himself safe even when he's not around.
howling screaming slashing at the walls
As for whether or not he'd still present the question to Crowley, I think he would (but without the implication of how nice it was back then). He'd present the option only because it is an option, and he wouldn't want to take away Crowley's ability to choose that fate for himself. After all, he chose to be an angel and found a home in that identity. He'd want to offer Crowley that same courtesy, if that's actually what he wanted.
He doesn't want to control Crowley and make decisions for him. And if Crowley's decision means they have to separate for a time until he can figure out The Plan? He'll be heartbroken but he'll accept it.
Okay but the real answer you're looking for: could CF!Aziraphale take on the Metatron and win?
YOU FUCKIN' BETCHA THAT FLOATING HEAD IS GOING DOWN
#Ran Writes#asks#anonymous#chosen faces au#good omens season 2#good omens spoilers#this has just been stewing in my head all morning I cannot rest#why are you like this aziraphale I adore you but what the FUCK#let alone that I just don't have the stamina to try to cover S2 in fully rendered comic pages like I'm doing for S1#I cannot handle the heartbreak 2.0 and CF is having a happy ending goddammit
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Sylki analysis eps 1 to 5:
Not trusting the the show they will pull up a satisfying solution in 50 minutes (with a ton of other plot) does not mean I'm not rooting for Loki/Sylvie.
I think the path Loki is on can be pretty awesome for me as a Loki fan, so it might be a great ending either way, but I still want a solution to Sylvie's arc.
That Eric Martin interview going around obvi caused some disconnect (with Sylvie hate on the rise again, not a surprise), so it might be worth looking at what we got so far.
Ep. 1
Loki is still shaken up from the evebts at the citadel. He is afraid of the Kang threat, but also hung up on his fight with Sylvie and tries to make sense of it. He didn't want to fight her, he wanted more time.
Their reunion is teased when we see Sylvie in the elvator, and Loki clearly emotionally affected by it.
The ep ends literally with: 'We gotta find Sylvie!'
Ep 2.
Loki goes after X-5 to get info about Sylvie, to find her. The narrative flow still makes srnse here. Sylvie is still one of his top priorities and Loki is even willing to torture to find her. (Preventing the Kang threat is still tied to finding Sylvie of course, but that does not erase Loki's emotional investment.).
When he does find her, that's where the whole thing shifts.
If you look at Sylvie the moment she sees him, you can see that she's shocked, afraid and immediatly pulls her walls up.
She is still very much affected by him, but doesn't let it show ('soft gets you killed' she can't be soft).
Sylvie works with Loki regardless, they combine their magic (after he basically jumped to her side).
After the initial threat that brought them together for this is gone, the drama starts (cause you got to have drama, right?)
Loki wants Sylvie to stay. She doesn't.
And Loki is clearly hurt by that.
Ep. 3
The drama culminates. Loki and Sylvie both want different things. Sylvie still advocates for free will and fighting a threat when it arrives (Victor as a Kang variant), Loki is for control and preventing the threat beforehand.
Sylvie still cares about Loki and challenges him, by asking him: "Do you care about anything but the TVA?"
He could say: "You" and resolve the conflict. But he doesn't, because Loki does not realize that's what she wants to hear, so he steps back and gives her space, thinking it's the right thing.
At that point, they could dance around each other forever.
Ep. 4
The conflict gets adressed. In the pie room scene they both make their opposing view points clear. Loki voices his frustration. He is clearly pissed when he assumes Sylvie takes the "easy" way. That's not what he hoped for.
He wanted her to work out the "hard" way with him together.
"We are Gods". Both of them. Sylvie also has a responsibility.
Sylvie does not argue that point. Or run.
She ponders and follows Loki out of the room a bit later.
Ep. 5
Further adressing of the conflict. Sylvie still argues in favor of free will. She does care about the variants and wants them to thrive on their time lines, she is not as emotionally attached to them and can be more neutral.
Loki has formed emotional attachement.
So he does care in a more selfish way.
They still don't resolve the issue, because Loki only admits his desire to be with his friends and doesn't include Sylvie. And it hurts her.
She tries to be neutral, to encourage Loki to write his own destiny, but the way face falls is truely hard to watch. In the end she can't keep her wall up anymore.
She reflects at the record store. If she didn't care about Loki she would not have needed to soothe herself with music.
The song, similar to "kozmic blues" at the end of 2x2, is about losing everything and being free (but possibly able to get back on one's feet again). But it's a blues. It is a sad way of living.
Sylvie does not want to get attached to avoid hurt. But she is not happy with that.
When she realizes the tva's failsafe kicking in, she goes straight to Loki to help again. That's a constant in the whole second season. Sylvie does not want to control, but she also does not want people to die.
She always helps, but in a neutral way, opposed to Loki's approach.
There is a weight to Loki's and Sylvie's interactions in 2x5.
She is the last one he seeks out, because she is a) important to him and b) he dreads the emotional fall out.
Sylvie is also the last one to dissolve and the first Loki slips back to.
The last soundbit he hears is her question: " What makes a Loki a Loki?"
Both of them are Lokis and will have to figure that out.
He manages to control his slipping because if her and then realizes he is able to focus on all of the people he cares about, hence the 360° turn he takes, that lands back on Sylvie.
So logically, 2x6 should finally resolve the conflict, adress their emotions and have Sylvie learn to trust Loki.
They would work together and balance each other out as different aspects of the same personality.
So it does make sense.
The disconnect imo stems from the fact, that some straight men of a certain age don't know how to fucking communicate properly, so their characters don't know either.
It could still end in drama, but Sylki endgame would still make sense narrativly. The narrative is just pretty damn bumpy.
#loki#loki spoilers#loki disney+#loki speculation#sylvie#Sylki#or Sylkie#analysis#saying it again#disregarding Sylvie's emotions is disregarding Sophia's acting#please look at her#it' all right there
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