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frigid-moon-fall · 1 month ago

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An expansion of something I posted to the oneshot/imagine collection, now with rants about mechanics. It deserves to escape containment since there's nothing really shippy about it.

Heeere's my plan for a Leon-survives route in a hypothetical second remake of Tales of Destiny. Includes spoilers for Symphonia.

Get the Symphonia spoilers out of the way first, since they're my justification for why a Leon-survives route 100% deserves and 99% needs to exist.

Symphonia has an affection system. Depending on who likes you most by near the end of the game, you get to pick 1 of 3 character routes. The only meaningful change aside from bonus scenes, for 7 out of 8 of them, is who accompanies Lloyd on his journey to collect all of the world's exspheres after the game has concluded. For the 8th, the change is Zelos fucking dies.

When asked who the canon choice was, devs responded "whoever you ended up with!" except that's also blatantly untrue since all material that takes place after the game had to make a choice. I haven't seen all the supplemental material for Symphonia, but I'm pretty sure none of them stuck with Zelos dying. ...Except Abyss, of all things, but I like to think that one line of dialogue was a salty dev who didn't like that Zelos's death was changed to not being the default. So a route exists where a major character dies, and it is not canon.

We are absolutely allowed to have a route where the major character who usually dies does not die. It does not have to be canon, it does not have to be reflected in any other material. (Except for a hypothetical Abyss remake where a random replica NPC needs to mutter "...Leon lived..." so we can come full circle) But it deserves to exist!!

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So!! The way I'd do it. We get that affection system or something like it. In a perfect world, there'd be affection points for every party member (I'm not saying they all need to be romanceable, but it'd be nice), but it'd be fine if it's literally just meant for Leon's survival. I think it also makes sense if it's just Leon because that would imply Stahn would be good enough friends with everyone else regardless of any of his possible choices. He's just that kind of guy.

Because he's just that kind of guy, I'd want to limit the use of dialogue options and instead focus on missable sub events. Basically just making more room for them to interact, because I feel like making it dialogue-choice-based would imply that Leon's death is a direct result of Stahn saying the wrong thing, which would only be good if the writers were interested in exploring it properly with a truckload of guilt. Anyway, maybe even get in-battle stuff involved if you want to make the route even more difficult to obtain; if you let Leon reach 0 HP even once, you're locked out.

Depending on how much you've managed to win Leon over, you get 4 outcomes! 1) Lowest end, where you actively make him dislike you, would ditch the sacrifice angle and play out a little more like the PS1 version. 2) If you just didn't do enough, still no sacrifice, but obviously more reluctant to fight. But it still happens. 3) If you put in the effort to make him like you, you get the PS2 version's sacrifice. 4) If you MAX HIM OUT, by which I mean you get every single point possible—I mean make it IMpossible to stumble into this ending on accident, like maybe even lock it behind NG+: You have to have cleared Stahn's side, AND Leon's side to unlock this. (Yes, I think it's important we also have a Leon's Side for this hypothetical second remake, because for one, his side in DC was a giant waste of potential even if you like the changes to his backstory. For two, if they do actually revert those changes, it would possibly be the most interesting thing ever.)

Anyway. If you're on the right path, you will know way before shit hits the fan. I got a whole new section of the game thought out.

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Stahn goes home to Lilith. Lilith convinces him to stay, as normal. If up to this point you've done everything right for Leon, Stahn gets super restless after like a week and needs to go back out there. But he can't just leave Lilith when she was so upset by his absence. So he does the obvious thing: He takes her with him to show her the world. This would also give the player a party member to make this section of the game easier since the goal is to see the whole world like Stahn had planned to do. And, maybe your actions during this segment can also be a new way to recruit Lilith instead of the arena, if the writers feel like making her an actual party member (I wouldn't want this if they're just going to do the same thing to her as in the PS2 version where she's not really there…)

It's a (deceptively) leisurely trek across the world that seems to be at peace. No pressure of a task to be done. The obvious correct thing to do is visit all Stahn's friends and introduce Lilith to them, so she can see how much he's impacted other peoples' lives, how much he cares about all these people, how much good he's been able to do even without an official title, and how much he THRIVES out here. And she can't in good conscience keep his wings clipped.

But, this section is also actually a delicate balance of where you visit in what order, because Leon's all over the place doing whatever work he's been sent on. He's a busy boy. And you'd have to remember where he went in what order and remember his downtime from having played his side, or else you'd miss out on meeting him. And that's the final requisite. You have to meet up with him at every single opportunity. (I'm not saying you meet him in every single town in the world like a stalker, just that you meet him in every town he actually went to. So like, your 1st and 2nd stops could be any town, 3rd stop has to be X town, 5th stop has to be Y town. It just gets tricky because of no repeats.) You'll know you're locked in when the last time you meet with him, Stahn mentions Darilsheid is the last place they haven't been, and Leon quietly suggests they travel there together since he's on his way back there anyway.

Depending on the backstory this new remake has decided on (that is, if Leon has been a pawn from the beginning, or if he has no idea what Hugo's doing), this scene can be either just Leon being tsun again like "we might as well, it's just convenient, I don't specifically want to travel with you" or actually hiding a grave and desperate undercurrent. Because if he's been a pawn, this is where he's seeing a way out.

Either way, on the way back to Darilsheid, they talk about the whole knight thing and Stahn hesitates since he hasn't spoken with Lilith yet about what they'll do when they're done with this trip. Lilith answers for him, asking just how much more of the world there could possibly be to see until he's ready. He's got her blessing, and he's happy. And she can even see some excitement and relief in Leon. She goes home alone, or maybe she stays if she's a proper party member from here on.

So this puts Stahn in Darilsheid when shit goes down.

Then there's two ways it plays out, depending on which of Leon's backstories this hypothetical remake decided to take.

If PS2 backstory, Leon steals Dymlos instead of the Draconis and goes to Stahn for help since he's right there. Dymlos is the voice of reason and tells them they need to give up ground for now, because there's nothing they can do as just the two of them if Leon was bested so easily. They will get themselves killed pointlessly. So Leon plays along with the plan until they meet up in Libra IV, where he rejoins without a fight. No fight means no delay, so they're ahead of the explosion. They all get out together. Stahn, Leon, Dymlos and Chaltier get an added sense of guilt when the aethersphere begins construction, since their only plan of action led to this still being possible. From there, Leon lays low so Mictlan thinks he died (hmhmhm maybe he dons the mask early), so that Mictlan doesn't have a reason to hurt Marian.

If PS1 backstory, Stahn would have noticed Leon growing more and more tense each time they met up (since the start of the plan is drawing closer). I'm kind of split on whether Stahn should need to confront him about it to get the truth from him, or if Leon should volunteer it and ask for help without any additional prompting. Either way, Stahn's all for helping. (Just copypaste the rest of the PS2 outline here instead if you can't handle some extra contrivance, but otherwise,) Security on Marian would probably be pretty lax or even nonexistent in this case since, at least in Proust's continuity, Mictlan was always willing to let Leon take Marian and run, he just made sure Leon knew he was able to find and kill her no matter where they escaped to. So they'd be able to grab Marian ahead of time and shuffle her off to Johnny in Aquaveil for protection or something. If they go after her there, it becomes a political problem. Even if Mictlan could probably take out an entire country's army, it still might be more trouble than it's worth to navigate a country on high alert. ("Why didn't Leon just do that to begin with?" He wasn't personally friends with foreign royalty before, and Woodrow and Johnny are among the characters he's spoken to the least, so why would he immediately trust them with her? Plus this is right when the plan is about in motion, and the entire protagonist team and maybe some armies are now after them. They have more than just Leon to deal with.) This also keeps Johnny relevant instead of him basically vanishing from the collective consciousness until the end of the game. No need for Leon to even pretend to betray Stahn in this case. Everyone is able to mobilize against Mictlan earlier with all the information from Leon. (But of course, it doesn't really help. I doubt Mictlan's plan hinged entirely on Leon's cooperation, so they'd probably be able to steal the eye and some transport themselves right after they realize they lost their easy mode ticket.)

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So there you go. Leon survives route. Forces some mad replay value into the game, works with what we've already got, and can even be tailored to either backstory.

My only beef with this is that it kind of takes away any chance Rutee could have had to also have sway over Leon's decision. I want her to be important to this. But she makes it so difficult. She explicitly told Stahn not visit her, and I think he'd honor that wish during his journey here. Heck, even when they need her for tracking down and figuring out wtf is up with Leon stealing a jet and nuke, they're reluctant to bother her and consider going without her so she can just live her life. So when nothing bad seems to be going on, I think they'd leave her be. You'd still visit Cresta, because you have to see the world and Cresta is part of the world, but Stahn would be on the lookout to avoid Rutee.

The only way I can think of to work her into this is by stretching this route's prerequisites into Leon's Side. You basically just miss her in Cresta in Leon's Side in DC, so in this, I would change it to make her difficult to find. But you have to find and talk to her as Leon in Leon's Side before he leaves for Darilsheid. They'd have some serious talk that has him really longing to have been her family, and if PS1 backstory, shaking his resolve to continue with Mictlan's plan. And then on Stahn's Side, if you've been doing all the right things, you run into Leon after he's parted ways with Rutee.

#tales of destiny #leon magnus #lion magnus #frimofa #frimofa thinking #also they retconned an entire twink and the romance subplot between woodrow and mary i think we're allowed to have this #gosh i still don't know what goes down in TOD2 so like maybe all of this is pointless to think about

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aaryan-mwa-blogs · 4 days ago

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Portable vs. Permanent Sound Systems: Which One Should You Invest In

Sound systems have a magical way of transforming ordinary moments into extraordinary experiences. Whether you’re a DJ looking to own the dance floor, an event organizer trying to wow your audience, or just someone who loves throwing epic house parties, the question of choosing between a portable and permanent sound system is crucial. Both options come with their own perks and challenges, so let’s dive in and find out which one suits your needs best.

What Makes Portable Sound Systems Stand Out?

Imagine this: you’re hosting a party today and DJing at a wedding tomorrow. A portable sound system becomes your best friend in such scenarios. These systems are designed for mobility, offering lightweight construction, built-in amplifiers, and wireless connectivity. They’re perfect for gigs on the go, house parties, or outdoor events where flexibility is key.

Portable sound systems are easy to set up and break down, often requiring minimal technical knowledge. Plus, many modern models come with built-in Bluetooth and rechargeable batteries, allowing you to take your music virtually anywhere. Whether you’re on a beach, a rooftop, or a backyard, portability means freedom.

But here’s the catch—portable systems, while convenient, often compromise on power and sound quality when compared to their permanent counterparts. If you’re hosting a massive event or performing in a large venue, the limited output might not cut it.

Why Consider a Permanent Sound System?

Permanent sound systems are the heavyweights of the audio world. Installed in venues like clubs, theaters, and large halls, these systems are built for performance and consistency. They deliver high-quality sound with more power and clarity, making them ideal for spaces where music and sound play a central role.

Unlike portable systems, permanent setups are customized to fit the acoustics of a specific venue. This means better sound distribution, fewer technical glitches, and an overall superior audio experience. They’re also more durable since they’re not being moved around all the time.

However, permanence comes at a cost—literally. These systems are more expensive to install and require professional assistance for setup. They’re also, well, permanent. If you’re someone who likes flexibility or needs to move your equipment frequently, this might not be the right choice for you.

Which One Fits Your Lifestyle and Budget?

Here’s the million-dollar question: should you go for portability or permanence? The answer depends on how you plan to use your sound system and your budget.

If you’re a mobile DJ, an event planner, or someone who hosts gatherings in different locations, a portable sound system is your best bet. It’s affordable, flexible, and gets the job done for most small to medium-sized events.

On the other hand, if you own a club, manage a large event venue, or have a dedicated space for performances, investing in a permanent sound system makes sense. The upfront cost might be higher, but the payoff in terms of sound quality and reliability is worth it.

No matter which option you choose, where you buy your sound system is just as important as the system itself. Professional audio shops like VIP PRO AUDIO offers a range of benefits that you simply can’t get from generic retailers or online marketplaces.

For starters, they have experts who can guide you in choosing the right system based on your needs and budget. They also allows you to test equipment before you buy it. This means you can hear the difference in sound quality and make an informed decision. They stock a wide variety of brands and models, so you’re not limited in your choices.

Additionally, buying from a reputable shop means you get warranties and after-sales support. And let’s not forget—they often have the latest equipment, so you’ll always have access to cutting-edge technology.

So, Which One Should You Pick?

If you’re still torn, think about your long-term goals. Are you someone who thrives on versatility and needs to move your gear frequently? Or are you looking for a system that will be the backbone of a fixed space?

Portable sound systems are fantastic for those who value mobility and convenience. Permanent sound systems, however, are unbeatable in terms of quality and reliability. The choice ultimately depends on your lifestyle, the events you host, and, of course, your budget.

Regardless of your choice, make sure you’re getting your equipment from a professional audio shop. Their expertise and range of products will ensure that you find a sound system that ticks all the right boxes.

So, whether you’re packing up your portable gear for the next big gig or fine-tuning your permanent setup to perfection, remember: the right sound system doesn’t just play music—it creates memories.

#music #audiogears #audio #dj #brooklyn #speakers #audio shops #professional audio equipment

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redid-csc · 29 days ago

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Instagram DP for Girls: Crafting the Perfect Profile Picture

In a world where social media has become a central part of daily life, a display picture (DP) on Instagram holds considerable significance. For girls, an Instagram DP is more than just an image; it’s a digital calling card, offering a glimpse into personality, style, and mood. Whether it's a high-quality portrait, a candid shot, a travel memory, or even an artistic image, a girl’s DP tells a story that invites followers into her unique world.

Let’s delve into the types of instagram dp for girls that are popular among girls, the subtle messages they convey, and tips for crafting the perfect DP to capture attention and express individuality.

Why Your Instagram DP Matters

Your Instagram DP is a small but powerful image that appears every time you post, comment, or share a story. It plays a vital role in how followers and new visitors perceive you. Given Instagram’s highly visual nature, this tiny picture can say a lot about you at a glance. A girl’s DP can subtly communicate her mood, interests, or aesthetic sense, helping others get a feel for her personality before they even browse her profile.

Here’s why the Instagram DP holds significance:

First Impressions: As one of the first things new visitors see, your DP sets the tone for your entire profile, reflecting who you are or what you’re currently into.

Personal Branding: For many girls, their DP is a form of self-branding. It can convey confidence, creativity, warmth, or mystery, depending on the style and look they choose.

A Snapshot of Personality: Your DP gives followers a quick impression of your personality—whether you’re playful, thoughtful, or adventurous, a well-chosen image can reflect these traits instantly.

Connection with Followers: A good DP resonates with your followers, creating a sense of relatability and connection.

Types of Instagram DPs for Girls and Their Meanings

Girls on Instagram often choose their DPs based on current trends, personal style, and their unique personalities. Here are some popular types of DPs and the messages they convey:

1. Self-Portrait or Selfie

A classic choice for an Instagram DP, a self-portrait allows girls to directly present themselves. A high-quality selfie with good lighting or an edited close-up can highlight confidence and showcase their unique style.

Natural Look: A soft, natural selfie gives an approachable and genuine vibe.

Glam Look: A glam DP with bold makeup and style shows confidence, fashion sense, and flair.

Candid Shot: Adds a sense of ease, reflecting an authentic and laid-back personality.

2. Travel or Adventure Shots

Girls who love exploring new places often use travel photos as their DP. Whether it’s a sunset on a beach, a mountain landscape, or a foreign cityscape, these DPs convey a sense of adventure, wanderlust, and curiosity about the world.

Beach and Ocean Scenes: Suggest a free-spirited, relaxed personality.

Urban Landscapes or Landmarks: Show appreciation for culture and discovery.

3. Artistic or Aesthetic Shots

Some girls prefer an artistic DP, which can range from black-and-white images, abstract compositions, to minimalistic shots with unique lighting. This style reflects creativity, sophistication, and an appreciation for beauty and art.

Black and White: Adds a classic, timeless appeal that can appear introspective.

Soft-Focus or Abstract Shots: Reflects a creative and imaginative personality.

4. Quotes and Affirmations

A DP with a meaningful quote is a popular choice for girls who want to share a part of their mindset or philosophy with the world. This choice can reflect optimism, resilience, or a personal belief system.

Inspirational Quotes: Showcase positivity and ambition, often chosen during periods of personal growth.

Empowering Statements: Highlight inner strength, self-love, or resilience.

5. With Friends or Loved Ones

For girls who prioritize their relationships, a DP featuring close friends, siblings, or a partner conveys a strong sense of togetherness and loyalty. These DPs are also popular among girls who value their social circles and cherish their bonds.

Friendship Pictures: Reflect an outgoing, social personality and a love for spending time with others.

Family Moments: Highlight the importance of family values and strong bonds.

6. Pet Photos

For girls who have a soft spot for animals, a pet DP (such as a photo with a cat, dog, or other beloved pet) conveys warmth, kindness, and compassion. These DPs also show a nurturing side, which is endearing to many followers.

7. Seasonal and Holiday Themes

Seasonal DPs, like winter shots, Halloween costumes, or festive holiday photos, are perfect for showing off a sense of joy, creativity, and excitement about the time of year. It adds a playful and relatable touch, allowing others to join in the celebration.

8. Fashion and Style Showcase

Fashion-focused DPs show off style and love for trends. For fashion enthusiasts, a DP featuring their latest look or accessory adds a stylish flair, helping followers see their aesthetic preferences.

Street Style: Reflects a love for current fashion and trends.

Glam Shots: Showcase sophistication, elegance, and confidence.

9. Anonymous or Mysterious Images

For girls who prefer to maintain a sense of privacy, a silhouette or partially obscured face can be intriguing. These DPs add a sense of mystery, suggesting independence, privacy, or introspection.

Tips for Crafting the Perfect Instagram DP

Creating an eye-catching DP for Instagram involves a bit of thought and creativity. Here are some tips to help you create a DP that’s both visually appealing and meaningful:

Use High-Quality Photos Blurry or pixelated images don’t leave the best impression. A high-quality, clear image is more likely to stand out and look appealing.

Good Lighting is Key Natural lighting often works best, whether it’s soft sunlight for a warm effect or bright daylight for a clear, vibrant look. Lighting can change the tone of the DP and enhance details.

Choose a Unique Background The background of your DP can add depth to the image. A simple, clean background keeps the focus on you, while a scenic background can add an extra layer of beauty or meaning to the shot.

Edit with Subtle Filters Editing can enhance the mood and color balance of your DP. Subtle filters or adjustments to brightness, contrast, and saturation can elevate the photo, but avoid over-editing.

Crop Thoughtfully Since Instagram DPs are displayed as circles, cropping is essential. Keep the focus on your face or the main subject to ensure it looks good in a circular frame.

Consider Your Profile Aesthetic Your DP should ideally align with the theme of your Instagram profile. For instance, if your profile has a warm color scheme or pastel tones, a DP that matches the aesthetic creates a harmonious look.

Keep It Current Updating your DP from time to time keeps your profile fresh and interesting. It also reflects any changes in your life, personality, or style.

Trends in Girls’ Instagram DPs

Trends influence how girls choose their DPs, with Instagram filters and creative tools inspiring new styles. Some popular trends include:

Vibrant, Filtered Shots: Vibrant color filters or monochromatic themes give a unique look and make the DP pop against the white Instagram interface.

Vintage Aesthetic: Retro filters and film-inspired looks are trendy, giving DPs a nostalgic, timeless appeal.

Minimalistic and Simple: Clean, minimalist DPs with subtle colors or simple compositions are popular for those who prefer a modern, chic look.

Polaroid Frames: Adding a Polaroid-style frame gives a vintage, cozy feel and adds extra visual interest to the DP.

Final Thoughts: Crafting a Unique Instagram DP

A girl’s Instagram DP is a dynamic representation of her personality, lifestyle, and style. It’s a chance to make a statement, create connections, and express individuality. Whether it’s a striking selfie, a travel memory, or a cozy pet photo, the DP is a small yet significant part of a girl’s digital presence.

With the right lighting, composition, and creativity, an instagram dp for girls can become a captivating introduction to your profile and a true reflection of who you are. So, take your time, experiment, and enjoy the process of creating a DP that’s uniquely and beautifully you.

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#instagram dp for girls

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strooples · 2 years ago

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Tournament settings in Bakuten Shoot

I still find the setting of the 3 world tournaments for 1st season Bakuten Shoot to be a very interesting choice. China, the US, then Russia.

All 3 countries bring to mind some not-so-great current events and geopolitical tensions. All 3 countries have people who tend to (unfortunately) be stereotyped because of their birth country’s system, government, and its effects on global politics.

But for a world-trekking adventure like Beyblade — where we inevitably meet a diverse set of characters from origins spanning all over the world — it feels both perfect and deliberate. Because we focus on those countries simply as the novel places our main characters go to (for instance when they go to Moscow, Russia — Max in the dub makes a comment about how pretty the country is and how nice the people are; IDK what the sub says though). Which conversely leads us to focus on our new opponents & new friends as people before nationalities. It’s almost like a “Screw stereotypes, let’s just beyblade!!” reminder from the creator.

And even in our main team itself, we have:

Max, who is American + grew up in the US but half-Japanese ethnically. In the manga, it was even mentioned how Max struggled to make friends initially in Japan at first due to being hafu (which the anime sadly left out when introducing Takao and the audience to him). So it was a neat little thing to have a character mirror a real scenario of someone who would logically struggle to fit in when coming to Japan, like the story of many hafu people in reality (whether living there their entire childhood or abroad). And after the introduction, focusing on him as the wholesome person he is, seeing his competent blading, and showing him having a great time with his friends touring the world. Which TBH is quite a nice treat, since Americans in Japanese media tend to be heavily stereotyped one way or another.

…and…

Rei, from an unnamed village in China. Who is a nice kid that cracked under the pressures at home, chose to run away, experience the world, and play for a new team. We really get to see his issues back at home with generational trauma, why he had to leave, but also seeing him as a person. We see problems present in his home environment’s culture, but also the person behind it who pulled through and expanded his world. Like being a great friend, a teammate that pulled through, and getting the chance to play for the Japanese team as an equal regardless of his past, his origins, or the pressures previously put on his shoulders.

So honestly, it’s just a neat detail that clicked in my mind once they reached Moscow after the journey through mainland Europe!!

Side note:

I’ve got to say that my favorite destination of theirs is Hong Kong when they were a bit off of mainland China — staying there as a stop before the Chinese tournament. I still think of the pretty sunset depictions of Hong Kong as the Bladebreakers walk around street corners trying to find Kai. It was so pretty!!

I remember stumbling into a Wordpress blog from googling Beyblade (it was something about Kai?? no clue). And the US-based blogger talked about how a lot of his travel bucketlist included the Beyblade destinations such as Hong Kong, London, Paris, Rome, and Moscow. It’s such a cool thing to imagine how many people this show must’ve inspired to go and see new countries! :D

#beyblade #bakuten shoot beyblade #max mizuhara #rei kon

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yurimother · 4 years ago

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LGBTQ Light Novel Review — I'm in Love with the Villainess

A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series

There are few titles the general public seems to be as excited about as Inori and Hanagata's I'm in Love with the Villainess, as it has been sitting at or near the top of Amazon's LGBT Manga list for months and Twitter is consistently abuzz with the latest news on this isekai Yuri series. I was somewhat more skeptical, as I have had relatively poor experiences with isekai and fantasy Yuri. Still, my excitement went through the room, and I eagerly boarded the "hype train" upon the cover reveal for the third volume. Yuri families, where two women raise children together, are one of my greatest desires and something I rarely see portrayed in the genre. However, I still had mostly low expectations for the series going into the first volume. I looked forward to some light meandering comedy and typical boring trope-filled isekai shenanigans. However, I'm in Love with the Villainess more than exceeded my expectations. No, even this statement is far too moderate to describe how utterly stunned and blown away I was by Inori's creation. I'm in Love with the Villainess is completely shattering and easily one of the greatest light novels I have ever read. Thus, I have no choice to award a perfect 10/10 score, my first ever for a light novel.

After waking up in the world of her favorite otome game, Revolution, protagonist Rae is ecstatic to be faced to face with Claire Francois, the game's villainous rival. However, Rae never played Revolution for the thrill of romancing any of the three attractive young princes. She was always in love with Claire. She attends the academy and studies magic in the fantasy world alongside Claire, the princes, and various other supporting characters. Using her skills from the modern world and her encyclopedic knowledge of Revolution, Rae manipulates the situation to be close to Claire, becoming her maid, and garnering status and money along the way. As an inevitable conflict looms closer, Rea begins to enact plans to protect herself and Claire, many of which are not fully understood or explained until the finale fantastically reveals the reasons for her actions. There is a natural and steady pace to the narrative that awards readers’ predictions and attention to detail.

I'm in Love with the Villainess has some excellent supporting characters, all of whom have unique personalities, histories, and abilities, some of which are revealed by Rae's exposition and others naturally throughout the novel. However, the stars of the show are the central couple, Rae and Claire. Claire is an elite aristocrat and extremely bratty. She often sneers at commoners and makes her disdain of Rae very clear from early on. On paper, she sounds like the perfect villain and someone all readers would despise. However, Rae's utter devotion and infatuation with Claire is so sincere that we cannot help but be pulled in and adore Claire and all her tantrums. Rae is a delight herself, continually flirting and poking fun at Claire, which gets her verbally berated, much to her masochistic pleasure. However, she is also exceptionally cunning and intelligent, and some of the light novel's greatest joys are listening to her analyze a situation or watching one of her plans fall into place.

“Ah, I’m… Well, it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s irrelevant to cuteness—because, Miss Claire, you are cute.” “Huh?!” She pulled away. It was perfect—such a pure reaction. “Miss Claire, you hate me, right?” “Of course!” “That’s fine. Please keep teasing me. I love it.”

The beginning of the book does not immediately clue one into its brilliance. Sure, Claire and Rea get some great one-liners as they bully each other, and the scenarios are authentic and fun, but it is nothing shattering. I was feeling pretty relaxed and having a lot of fun with the characters, their relationship, and the various slice-of-life style scenarios they encountered until one section, I remember the exact page, 81, as it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was flabbergasted and briefly frozen before shooting up out of bed, shouting expletives as I ran to my office to immediately record what I had just experienced. It all begins with the line, "Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?" What followed was one of the most thoughtful, condensed, informative, and nuanced discussions of gay and queer identity (both terms used in this scene) I have ever seen in Yuri. Everything from representation in media, the perceptions of and prejudices against gay people, and the role gender plays in romance for bisexual and gay people are analyzed. Its commentary is succinct yet so respectful and forthright that it could have only come from genuine experience, thus selling the book and its characters so much more.

"Queer people were still overwhelmingly closeted in this world, which was rife with prejudice and nurtured little understanding. As I noted, the queer people depicted in the story were either the sex fiends Claire imagined or the free-loving sort Lene had in mind. Diversity and acceptance were a long way off.”

Thus, Inori's writing's beauty exposed itself, and the book opened itself up to a delightful cycle. The narrative masterfully integrates isekai slice-of-life hijinks, like running a cross-dressing café or battling a giant slime with nuanced and challenging moments that dissect complicated topics. The latter mainly consists of a growing rift between the aristocracy and common people, mirroring real-world wealth gap issues, but the novel also touch on matters such as unequal prison sentencing and segregation. Every scene helped further the complexity of the characters and their relationships or else built onto the world of Revolution. Speaking of which, I'm in Love with the Villainess has some of the best worldbuilding ever seen in a light novel.

Initially, brief exposition establishes much of the world, which is adequate if not exciting. I will mark up to a casualty of the light novel's serialized nature, as it must present readers its setting immediately. However, Inori does not stop here. Through the narrative, new elements are established, such as a magic system and the kingdom's politics. Rea notes and describes how the world, while clearly based on medieval Europe, has many modern Japanese attributes, as Japanese game developers created it. Her pointing out the intersection of the two is fascinating. Furthermore, A great deal of time is spent establishing characters and organizations all have their own wants, agendas, and methods, many of which are not even directly involved with the story. Instead, they act as a background and help further contextualize others. For example, the Church publicly appears to lean towards supporting the commoners in their efforts for equality but has its own agenda of superseding the nobility. While they play little role in Rea and Claire’s adventure, they are one of numerous factors contributing to the unrest of the lower class. All these additions are interesting, and it never feels like the story or characters suffer for their inclusion, quite the opposite.

“The Bauer Kingdom had started a step behind other countries when it came to magical research. They dominated the surrounding countries in military strength, and this had made them complacent, leading them to underestimate the value of new magic technology until the best researchers had all been enticed to other countries. Even after the king came up with his magic-focused meritocratic policy, Bauer lagged behind.”

I can only make complaints by scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Hanagata's beautiful art is too infrequent to add much to the light novel, and many scenes crying for illustrations are left to the readers' imagination. However, Inori so wonderful writes the story that one hardly cares and can easily picture every moment with delight. Besides, the manga adaption will nullify this issue. Where I cannot complain at all is the spectacular translation by Jenn Yamazaki and Nibedita Sen, one of Seven Seas best (which is high praise considering the competition). Sure, I was slightly disappointed at first to see the adaptation left off honorifics, but the more I thought about the setting, the more sense it made. I am sure people much smarter than I gave the issue much more consideration, and I am happy with their decisions.

I'm in Love with the Villainess left me reeling with how pleasurable and powerful it was. The story and characters are such a joy, and I cannot wait to see Rea and Claire bully each other again in the next volume. Astounding worldbuilding and powerful, thought-provoking politics surround their antics and the high stakes plot. Every moment of their journey will enthrall readers as they squeal with glee at its hilarious set pieces or are shocked by its commentary of society's most significant challenges. Inori has created one of the most delightful, heartfelt, complex, profound, and genuinely queer light novel series ever. If you only read one thing I recommend this year, let it be I'm in Love with the Villainess.

Ratings: Story — 9 Characters — 10 Art — 5 LGBTQ — 10 Sexual Content — 2 Final — 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase I’m in Love with the Villainess in digitally (9/23) and in print (11/10) today: https://amzn.to/32NEyG1

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#yuri #lgbt #lgbtq #reviews #lgbtq+#i favor the villainess #i'm in love with the villainess #girls love #gay #queer #light novel #manga #gl #politics #feminism

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Impulse: Part 1 (Javier Pena x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: My first ever Javi fic, of course I had to make it the angstiest thing I’ve written in a long time!! This is part one of the first part of the story which is also the end of the story... just had to make it confusing for you.

Disclaimer: I do not have any experience with cocaine or addiction, all writing is based on my own research and is not a good representation of how it really is! Don’t do coke kids, it’s never good.

Part 2

---

Four in the morning, the sun was just above the horizon and you were stumbling home from yet another party. Enough tequila swam through your system that you didn’t really think about the wellbeing of your neighbor when you tapped on his door. You wanted to keep going. Javier, you decided, would make the perfect company. And maybe you could continue that kiss you had not stopped thinking about since it happened four months ago! You grinned devilishly at the thought and knocked harder on the door.

“Javi! Javier!” You rapped on the door. “Javier Peña, abra la puerta!” You sang, leaning all your weight on the door as your world span fast around you, “Javi,”

“What?” Javier opened the door suddenly, causing you to fall into him. You laughed as you caught yourself on his arm. You had woken him up, he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants with his hair bushy and wild.

“Hola!” You grinned up at him, not hiding the way you checked him out. You were obviously drunk and high, eyes red and shining brightly even in the dim light of the apartment block hallway. Javi wrinkled his nose as the smell of you hitting him, tequila and cigar smoke clung to you.

“Again?” Javi sighed heavily. This was the third time this week you had woken him up, accidentally or on purpose, coming home drunk. He was starting to worry about you.

“Si,” You grinned from ear to ear, You were in more of a state than last time. For one you were still speaking Spanish, something Javi had rarely ever heard you speak. You must have been with your local friends, he surmised. “No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido!”

“It’s not fun, you’re a mess. Get in here,” He pulled you by the arm into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“Eres enojado?” You asked, still grinning. You walked backwards into his apartment, tripping down the step and landing with a thud on his leather couch. You cackled with laughter.Javier frowned and put his hands on his hips, of course he was annoyed at you! It was four in the morning and you both had work the next morning. You dramatically flopped back on his couch and huffed at his grumpy attitude, “It’s only polite, Javi! They gave it to me!”

“It’s poison!! He exclaimed, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“It’s helping,” You proclaimed.

“It’s not helping anyone, you’re gunna fuck up sooner or later.” Javi warned, as he had done many times before.

“I got that list,” You protested, “That was helpful!”

“And what will you do when they work out that you stole it?”

“No lo sé,” You shrugged. You reached into your pocket and grabbed the last of the coke you had been given. You wanted a little more. You pulled the tin out of your pocket and placed it on the coffee table at your feet.

“You-,” Javi started before he noticed what you were doing, instantly he was on you, “Para!” He exclaimed as he snatched the coke from your hand before you had time to open it.

“Necesito!” You whined, pouting at him. You were lying, you didn’t need it. You wanted it, a lot.

“No,” Javi snapped.

“Lo siento, Javi,” You pleaded with him, eyes locked onto the packet in his hand.

“You’re not though, are you? Fucking look at me!” He yelled. You startled and looked up at him as tears pricked your eyes. “Quit it. Now. You know what this shit does, stop it. Whatever you think you’re doing is not worth it, okay?”

“Pero-“

“No. Me vale!” He cut you off. “You’re better than this, Y/n,”

You sustained eye contact for a moment. The room was deathly quiet, he glared at you with fierce intensity. You had never seen him so angry, if you weren’t so drunk you would have instantly buckled under the pressure. The only thing your drunk brain could think of was how hot he looked, you wondered how rough he would be with you if he was this angry. You couldn’t help the snigger that crept up in your throat at that thought. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the laugh, Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You laughed, “It’s just you can’t look at me like that and not fuck me!”

“Jesus christ,” Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. What little patience he had for you was running out fast. You continued to laugh.

“Can I stay here?” You asked.

“Take the couch,” Javi waved you off, his back turned heading back to his bedroom.

“I can’t sleep with you?” Your voice was laced with innuendo, he knew what you wanted. A part of him was tempted, your dress left very little to the imagination, but he knew he couldn’t do it.

“You’re drunk and high,” Javier said plainly, “and we’ve spoken about this before. No,” He was firm with you. He hated having to reject you for a second time but he wasn’t a complete monster. He wouldn’t sleep with you in this state.

“Worth a try,” You laughed, thankfully giving up quickly. Javi shook his head and walked away again, “Muchos gracias, Javi,” You called after him. He shut the door.

You woke up as the early morning sunlight pushed through the windows. You groaned and turned over, finding you were not in your bed but on a couch. Startled, you sat up and nearly screamed when you recognised the apartment as Javier’s. Luckily you were still fully dressed with your shoes still on, nothing had happened. Memories of how you got there were blurry, you remembered knocking on his door but had blacked out after that.

The clock on the wall said it was six am. You could go upstairs to your own bed clean up and hope that maybe Javi wouldn’t hear you and confront you about it.

You stood up from the couch, trying not to think about all the things the man had done on it, and grabbed your jacket from the ground. As you stood up the strength of your hangover kicked in, you grumbled. That was when you noticed the discarded coke packet on the counter. You stopped. You knew you shouldn’t pick it up, you didn’t need it. But the taste caught at the back of your throat and you found yourself wanting it. It was undeniably addictive, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t take it this far but the foul substance had made its bed.

“Go home,” Javi’s voice broke you out of the trance. He was only wearing sweatpants, hair mussed up from sleep that you had most definitely disturbed more than once. He pulled the cocaine off the table and threw it into the trash before you could reach it. You gulped, shame rising like hot steam through your lungs. You grabbed your things and left, running straight upstairs to your own apartment.

It was still early but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep again. Shame was swirling up in your throat. How ironic that a DEA agent was addicted to the thing she was meant to be stopping? But you weren’t addicted, you reasoned with yourself, you were fine. This was no different to when you lived off Redbull for a month during finals, it was a matter of changing some coping mechanisms. It was a reaction to the stress of being so close to Escobar yet so still so far. You could change it, you had control.

You made a coffee, instant and black. It was bitter and disgusting but it would keep you awake. You collapsed onto your tired old couch and flicked on the tv to a telenovela rerun. You barely understood what was going on but the hilarious overplayed drama was light enough to stop you swimming into the depressing pool of thoughts currently threatening to drown you.

Eight o’clock came and you were ready to go to work. You were used to this routine now, hungover and tired, you knew you weren’t at your best but until this morning nobody knew about your slow descent into chaos. You weren’t surprised to find Javi’s truck gone without you. All you could remember from last night as how mad he was, and his face this morning only proved it. You dreaded seeing him.

Luckily, you were spared the hassle of public transport by Steve who trundled down the stairs after you and offered you a ride. The conversation was light and everything seemed normal for a moment. You got to work, Steve ran off after a call from Javier leaving you with a mountain of paperwork to hunt through. For once you didn’t care, paperwork didn’t judge you.

A few hours passed and the boys returned. You did your best to ignore them while they bickered, hoping that you could melt into the background, until someone tapped on your desk.

“Hey, I’m talking to you Rookie,” Javi’s voice made you look up. “Come on, we’re going,”

Before you could say anything he threw your jacket at you and you had no choice but to follow him outside. You tried to rack your brain for why Javi would be taking you anywhere today, especially after this morning. You had expected him to ground you, to be impossibly angry at you, not take you out. You climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and Javi didn’t say a word. He didn’t look particularly angry, he looked stressed but he had looked like that since the day you got down here. He was silent, letting the radio play between you, when all of a sudden he reached over and turned it off.

You looked over at him, expecting him to start his lecture but he didn’t. He let the silence sit between you for the rest of the journey. Somehow it was worse, you’d rather he got mad at you and shouted. It was just unsettling.

Finally you pulled into the embassy, you flashed your badges at the gate and parked. Fear was starting to grow now. Was he going to get you fired? He wouldn’t bring you down here for that surely? He would have called and said what he wanted, he hated coming down here unless he had to. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask, and followed him inside.

Javi greeted the assistant at the door, as smooth as ever somehow managing to melt her in her chair in five seconds. You smiled and waved to her, she scowled at you as soon as Javi had turned his back.

“He’ll be in a minute,” The girl called after you as you entered the Ambassador’s office. You took one chair, Javier took the other, in front of the large mahogany desk.

Unlike Steve and Javi you didn’t see the ambassador often, often left in the office while they had meetings about things higher than your post. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you thought it might burst. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and fidgeted in your seat. Why in hell were you here?

Before you could bring up the courage to finally ask Javi the Ambassador walking into the room. You stood up immediately to shake his hand, Javi stayed seated.

“Y/n, nice to see you again,” The ambassador smiled kindly as he shook your hand. “Agent Peña,” He greeted the agent next to you, who nodded casually.

“You too, Sir,” You tried your best to sound confident. The Ambassador sighed heavily as he sat in the leather chair, took a sip of the water at his side and began the meeting.

“So, I got the call from your coordinators this morning, they’re coming down on Monday for the review. I thought we should have this meeting together to discuss things before they come down,”

Your six month review! That was what you had forgotten. Half relieved that your mentor hadn’t brought you down here to completely humiliate you, you smiled and nodded. With everything going on you hadn’t noticed the months fly past so fast, you barely remembered what day it was anymore.

The Ambassador carried on with the meeting, unaware of your panicking. You nodded along, answering his questions in short yes or no answers, he then moved to Javier. As your mentor he was the one in charge of delivering your progress onto your coordinators. You watched him speak, sound not registering anymore. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t throw you under the bus and tell the entire truth, he knew how much this meant to you surely he wouldn’t.

Nervous, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. You almost had a heart attack when you felt something inside. A small metal tin, rounded and rusted. You immediately knew what it was and froze. There was coke in your pocket. Javi gave you a sideways glance, as he noticed you stiffen up suddenly.

You wracked your mind for where the hell the tin had come from, until you remembered. This wasn’t your jacket, Maria had given it to you a few months ago and never asked for it back. You hadn’t worn it before today and had no idea that your friend’s stash lay inside the pockets. You tried to stay rational, tried to listen to the important conversation happening around you but your hand stayed clamped around the drug in your pocket. It would help you concentrate, it could calm you down. You could take it and nobody would notice.

“I- I’m sorry can you excuse me for a moment?” You blurted out, interrupting the ambassador. He frowned at you, surprised by your interruption. You had gone white with panic, obviously clutching at something in your pocket but he didn’t think anything of it. He nodded and you ran out the room before he could verbally release you.

You tried to remain calm as you ran through the halls of the embassy, it seemed like everyone was watching you. They knew exactly what you were doing, they were judging you. You ran into the first women’s bathroom you could find, quickly checked nobody was in any stalls, and locked the door behind you.

Throwing the package on the sink like it was burning through your hand, you stood over it, watching it intensely like it could jump away at any moment. The voice in your head kept tempting you, calling you weak and useless, to do it to get rid of it. Nobody would know if you took it. You’ve given in this far why not do it. It will help you calm down. Take it.

As if you were possessed, you unwillingly opened the tin and poured the powder onto the surface. There wasn’t much there, barely a pinch full, hardly anything at all. You couldn’t just leave it there now, someone would definitely know it was yours. They all knew why even bother hiding it anyway. You should take it. You were too weak to resist it. Take it.

And you did. The chemical shot straight to your brain giving you the brilliant feeling you had been missing. You sighed in a relief as you felt every anxiety fade from your body. It wasn’t that bad, you feel better with it, the voice in your head said. You weren’t wrong. You did feel better. You looked it too, your cheeks had colour again, you smiled and laughed to yourself as it took hold.

You brushed away the excess powder and unlocked the door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Javi leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, judging you with a cocked eyebrow. He had been waiting for you. You sighed and rolled your eyes immediately walking away from him.

“Don’t stand outside the women's bathroom’s Javi. It's creepy,” You snapped as you passed him.

“You missed a bit,” Javi commented, following closely behind you.

“Fuck off,” You grumbled. Despite yourself you wiped your sleeve over your nose. He was right.

“Shooting up in a bathroom is real low, Rookie, even for you,” He snarled. You continued walking down the hall, ignoring him. You were as angry at your actions as he was but you didn’t have control anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself, “Hey! I’m fucking talking to you,” Javi grabbed your arm and sharply pulled you backwards, pressing your back into the wall and trapping your body between his.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained, shoving him off you with as much force as you could give. It didn’t get you far as he pushed you to the wall again with as much force. Your back slammed against the cold stone hard, no doubt bruising it.

“Then listen. What the fuck is the matter with you?” He snarled, “Doing that shit here? Or anywhere in fact! You are completely out of control,” You ground your teeth, seething with anger, “Do you have no respect for yourself?” You struggled against him, trying to get away again to avoid the question, Javi held you in place. “Not going to say anything?” You looked away, purposely turning your cheek to him, “Get a fucking grip or I’m sending you home,” He growled.

You didn’t answer, staring at the patterned tile floor. Finally he gave up. With a grunt he let you go and stalked away down the corridor.

As he disappeared around the corner, a tidal wave of anger and frustration flooded your system. You kicked the line of chairs next to you, crying out curses as you sent them flying across the corridor. The metal clattered against the stone drawing people out of their offices, they all stood from their doorways and watched you, judging you. You heart hammered in your chest, chest heaving for air and you glared back at them all. You let out a deep breath and turned on your heel, leaving the mess behind you, and walked outside.

Despite himself, Javi had waited for you in the parking lot. You jumped into the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door hard to get your point across. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from anger or the drugs coursing through you. Neither of you said a word for the journey. Javi had said he needed to, and you weren’t able to string together a coherent sentence for everything you wanted to scream at him yet.

You were too focussed on the music playing from the stereo to really notice where you were going. The rhythms and lyrics seemed to float around you and soak into your skin. You didn’t see Javi’s furious scowl when you unknowingly started to dance in your seat, something you couldn’t help but do when listening to Columbian radio no matter your mental state. You were having a good time until the car stopped and the music was cut abruptly. Snapping out of your trance you looked around and realised you were at your apartment.

“Get out. You’re done for today,” Javi said, his voice was eerily calm and you knew to be terrified. Quiet Javi was always the angriest.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“Get out!” He leant over you and pushed the door open. You frowned, but slipped out the truck and did as you were told. Javi pulled the door shut behind you and rolled away, leaving you standing on the sidewalk opposite the apartment building completely dumbfounded.

You were stuck to the sidewalk, staring at the building. The sun beat down on you, scorching your skin yet you couldn’t feel it. You were numb to everything.

Your first thought was to find Maria and get more coke to hide further into yourself and avoid the awful shame creeping up your neck. The speed the thought entered your head petrified you. Your control was slipping through your fingers like sand and your body was screaming to move. Everything inside you told you to give up, that this was the tipping point and you might as well jump because what was the point in pretending anymore. If Javi knew what was the point in trying to cover up how much that narcotic had taken over your life. There was no point at all, you might as well enjoy the feeling whilst you could.

You turned to leave, letting go of all self control. Your legs knew where to take you, you didn’t even need to look where you were going. But you did, when three steps from your original position you crashed into a woman carrying a bag of groceries. She yelped, the sudden sound snapping you back to reality.

“What are you doing standing out here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connie startled you when she touched you, you had barely noticed her approaching. She frowned, concerned, when she took in your glazed appearance, “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” Your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes.

“Oh darling, come inside. Come on,” Connie walked across the road, expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You knew if you went inside you would have to tell her what was happening, you didn’t want to make her as mad as Javi was already. “Y/n? Sweetheart you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?”

“I fucked it all up,” You whimpered as you began to cry.

“Come with me, I’ll get you some water,” Connie bartered, still you didn’t move. Too scared to admit to her what was going on, “Just come inside, please,”

Finally, you nodded and followed Connie into the building. She walked you into the apartment, sat you on the couch and left to get a glass of water. You hadn’t stopped crying, everything in you was telling you to go and get more to calm yourself down again. You knew not to believe the thoughts but they scared you tremendously. You have really gone too far now.

Connie passed you the water, and you drank it gladly. She crouched down in front of you, pressed a hand to your forehead and checked your pulse trying to work out what was wrong with you.

“Did you take something?” She asked. You tried to shake your head and deny it but the way she’s looking at you, sternly but with so much care in her eyes, you couldn’t lie to her. Your no turns into a yes and you instantly recoil from her each touch, hiding in your hands. “What was it?”

“It was only meant to help,” You cried into your hands.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened,” She pressed.

“Maria gave me some coke, and it was fine and fun and it helped me get that list from them,” You started to babble, all your words tumbling from your mouth before you could get them into any sensible order, “and everyone was so excited and then I went out kept doing it and then yesterday I ended up at Javi’s and I was tired and-,”

“Slow down,”

“It’s my six month review, and I got so worried then I found it in my pocket! I didn’t know it was there and I just did it! Then Javi caught me again and he kicked me out here!”

“Do you know how much you took?”

“Like a tiny bit but I’ll be fine in an hour but-,” Tears slipped from your eyes once again, “What am I going to do?”

Connie didn’t know what to say. She knew you had been going out more with some new friends, Steve had complained because he was always woken up by you when you came back drunk from a party. That's all she thought was going on, you were partying, drinking, like you should at your age. But as she had come to learn, a lot of things in Columbia were not what they seemed. It seemed the darker side of life here had managed to get it’s claws well and truly into you. It broke her heart to see you like this, so broken up.

You stayed with Connie for the rest of the afternoon, sat on the couch riding out the end of you high. TV kept you company and Connie chewed her nails trying to work out what to do. She thought should call Steve, but if Javier was the one to drop you off here, he probably already knew. She wondered how long it had been going on for, she didn’t get to see you as much as her husband and his partner, whenever she’d seen you you seemed fine, if a little hungover at times. When she thought about, all three of you had taken on destructive habits to cope with the hell you saw every day. Steve was becoming more aggressive by the week, while she knew she was safe she didn’t like what she saw when he flipped out. Everyone in the building knew about Javier’s escapades and now you. It was upsetting to watch from the outside, she couldn’t imagine what it was really like to go through.

You woke up half an hour later, muddled and more tired than when you’d fallen asleep.

“Feeling better?” Connie asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Feel like shit,” You muttered. Your head pounded and the heaviness still sat in your chest. That was the kicker, the coke could mask feelings very well but every time you sobered up they were still there waiting. You sighed heavily, pushing yourself to sit up where you’d slumped over, and rubbed your face with your sweaty palms. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know sweetie, but I’ll be here to help you,” Connie said kindly, as she sat on the couch next to you. You felt awful for dragging her into all this, yet another person you had let down, ”I think you should tell your boss? Or you’re coordinators, maybe they’ll help,”

“I’ll be sent home!” You protested, tears filling your eyes once again, “I don’t want to go home, not now!”

“You can’t keep it to yourself, it will only get worse,” She said, you nodded sadly and cried on her shoulder as she pulled you in for a hug. “I suggest a hot bath, watch some cheesy movie- I managed to find that Indiana Jones movie on tape. I know you love Harrison Ford,”

“That sounds nice,” You smiled weakly. Connie let you go and grabbed the movie along with a bottle of wine for you. You gathered yourself together, enough to get yourself from Connie’s couch to your own at least.

“I’m sure Steve won’t notice it’s gone. Go and chill out and watch the movie, have a bit of normality for a change. You’ll feel better I promise,”

“Thank you Connie, you’re a really good friend,”

“It’s no problem sweetie, like I said I’m always here for you,”

Connie gave you another tight squeeze before you left. Iin the hallway you heard the clatter of Javi’s keys in his door below. You wanted to apologise to him, you wanted him to help you! You wanted things to go back to how they were before all this but you knew Javi wouldn’t talk to you. He’d displayed his distaste for the people that fell under the powder’s spell before, he wasn’t going to help. He had trusted you to sort it out yourself but now it was abundantly clear you couldn’t.

Once again your brain reminded you how easy it would be to get some more coke to cheer yourself up. You could go downstairs and walk down the street, find one of your friends and be happy again so quickly. You didn’t have to feel this pain.

This time, you ignored it and locked yourself in your apartment. You took yourself to bed immediately, not even bothering to turn on any lights along the journey through the tiny space. You fell on the bed face first. As soon as your body hit the soft material you curled up as tight as you could and began to cry.

You had failed. You had let your team down, let your coordinators down, let your classmates down and let your family down. You didn’t even want to think about the conversation you would have to have with your mom as to why you were coming home six months early from a placement you fought so hard to get. You thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You failed.

Part 2

Translations (disclaimer I'm sorry if these are wrong I've been learning Spanish for all of 3 months hence the limited use)

Abra la puerta - open the door

No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido! - I’m not sorry Javi, it’s fun!

Eres enojado - are you angry?

No lo sé - I don’t know

Para!- stop!

Lo siento- I’m sorry

Pero- but

Me vale - I don’t care

The next part will be out next Friday! Want to get tagged? Let me know!

Tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @browneyes-djarin @themidnightsun-12

gunna be cheeky and tag some mutuals i think may be interested? @ithinkwehitametaphor @wille-zarr

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hypermanga · 4 years ago

Text

Choices, choices (Eric x reader)

Requested by: @rachelcarroll1819

Request: Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Jeanine Matthews and she is divergent and bff with four and in a relationship with Eric please and thank you.

Word Count: 1628

Warnings: Cuss words and perhaps Eric being a little OOC? ~

~~~~~~

Your mother's face was in every Chicago's screen, her scrutinizing gaze that you had gotten to know so well reached to any corner of the city, always looking out for them.

Divergents.

To her, a threat to the faction system. To you, someone beyond who could guide humanity to a better tomorrow, one where you were not defined by your aptitudes, but the actions of your everyday life. Like it had just been before the war.

It was weird for you to disagree with your mother, but ever since the aptitude test you started to percept the world with another lense, a divergent's one; You had become what your mother despised the most, and you knew about her plans, so you decided to make the most rational decision: transfer to Dauntless. There you could prepare for whatever your mother had prepared for your kind and all the "collateral victims", as she put it.

For what you didn't prepare was meeting who could possibly be the love of your life: he was caring and well-read in private, but displayed a brash, cold and sometimes sadistic behaviour towards Initiates. You had met him after entering Dauntless, being Max who had greeted you at the roof.

Four, your best friend since two or three when you made the bold choice of sassying Eric after he had told you for an hour long that you were not going to pass the cut "Got some fire in you" The former Abnegation boy had said, patting your back before letting Eric do whatever he was about to do. After all, he was a leader and Four was a subordinate.

As for Eric, you still weren't able to pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him: perhaps it was the time he had gone out of his way to help you improve your position to perfect your punches, or perhaps one night where he caught you doing a stroll in the night and joined you, having a long conversation,...There were so many occasions that had made you fall a little bit more for him, but you considered it more of a crush than anything else.

As soon as Initiation had finished and you were asked to become a trainer alongside Four you couldn't be happier, but Four outdid himself telling you how he had heard Eric talking to Max about how he felt about you "Today's not April Fools I recall" "That's because it is not. Be careful, he can be dangerous" " I know how to take care of myself. Remember, I was once an Erudite like him, not some lovesick dove"

But you fell. And hard.

Sadly all hell broke loose, as the alliance between Dauntless and Erudite stepped into the light. Tobias and you decided to escape Dauntless alongside Tris Prior, his girlfriend and Initiation acquaintance for you. You could still remember the train that had brought you to one place you never expected to be living in. Amity: all that peace serum and smiling all day didn't sit right to you, it felt as if they wanted to evade everything bad thing that was going on around them as an excuse to not intervene.

Johanna had been really kind (ironically) letting you stay, you would give her that, but working in the fields was not made for you. Nor cooking. Nor being happy all the damn time, which seemed to be the base point of your relationship with Tris. She seemed like a nice girl and really in love with Tobias, so you approved of their relationship. Now, for the other two companions, Peter and Caleb, you were skeptical about the first after he had gotten into a fight during lunchtime with Tris.

It had been another tranquil morning when Dauntless trucks pulled up the path that lead to Amity, Eric leading them and ready to hunt Divergents for Jeanine. Ever since you'd escaped he had delved into his work, leaving any kind of feelings he had harboured for you during Initiation aside: he had taken interest in you at first because of your sassiness towards him as well as your closeness with Four: he had spent so many nights thinking about your determination to pass Initiation, how you laughed at the things Four said...It made him sick to say the least. But then he'd gotten the chance to become closer to you, and even though he had tried to fool himself that he was doing that to piss off Four, any fool could see he had also fallen just as hard as her.

'Falling for the boss's daughter, great fucking job Eric' He had mutered to himself in between punches 'And someone who has taken the oposite side in this conflict, you just won grand prize Eric' Punch 'She chose Four over you' Punch 'She might now see you as a soulless monster' One last punch before he broke the bag, sand spilling everywhere, making him huff in disdain.

Those same thoughts threatened to cloud his vision now, so he pushed them aside to concentrate on his task: hunting those damned Divergents. His team had gathered everyone in the dining room before he and Max decided to check for anyone hidden,starting with the stables and Johanna's office upstairs.

Just like you, he had a special disdain for Amity: problems had to be tackled,not ignored. Zooming out as Johanna greated them, he just checked her with his device to list her off before moving on to the stables.

As soon as you saw those trucks, Tris, Tobias, Caleb and you made a run for it, the three hiding in Johanna's office and you in the stables "I'll catch up with you!" You said to them, ushering them away. You blended with the shadows as best you could, for you knew if someone checked your divergence percentatge you were done.

It seemed like time was going too slow, before a figure stepped inside the stables. Eric. 'Play hide and seek with a Dauntless leader they said. It will be fun they said' you thought to yourself. Even now as your enemy, you still found him just as handsome as the first day you'd seen him.

You felt your heart stop as he walked up and down the stables, stopping just to pet some horses, which in all honesty you found adorable, before his eyes fixated in your hiding spot "I'm surprised you didn't run with the others" He smirked, grasping your arm "I'm Dauntless, I don't run from things. But I'm damn sure that I will not stay while you and my mother kill Divergents for...What purpose exactly? A system! A fucking system! You're killing innocent people who cannot be just one thing, is that a crime Eric?" He looked at you coldly, unaffected "You are a Dauntless, and an Erudite as well as I was! I'm pretty sure you can understand there's a lack of logic! What has she promised you: Fame? Honor? A high position? Nothing but empty promises bathed in blood Eric!"

As you freed from his grasp, which was lacking force, you balled your fists "Please Eric. I know you can understand...Please, don't do this" Your pleas fell short as Eric brought out the machine that analyzed your divergence percentage. You looked at him defiantly "Go on, Eric" The venom-coated way that his name left your lips made him almost flinch, but what broke his façade was the 'Divergent, 60%' that left his device.

Chuckling lowly "Checkmate" You held your arms in surrender, smiling "Get it over with. I don't want to live in a dictatorship, worse my mum's" You grabbed Eric's gun giving it to him and, slowly and steady, brought it to your heart.

He felt numb, in a crossroad: he had a mission, but there you were in your Amity's clothes as beautiful as ever, looking at him with a dim hope in your more lifeless eyes as the seconds passed.

Dropping his device, he walked past you, punching a wall "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You knew he had quite the temper, but you knew that in this particular occasion he was not just boosting out, but battling his own demons. He kept punching the wood, blood starting to drool from his fists "Eric stop!Look at me!" He slumped on his knees in defeat"First my family, then Initiation, now this" He sniffed "Why can't anything go the way I want?" Grabbing his face in between your hands, you also dropped to your knees "Because we can't control everything, I wish I could myself..." You shrugged sadly "But our choices and attitudes can change our perspective of things, and even their consequences" "You always know what to say, now do you?" He chuckled "Well, this has brought your attention. Now you decide if it is for better or for worse" You smiled and, as he looked into your eyes, saw his decision made up "I will not give up someone who truly believes that something good can come out of me"

Now it was his turn to grab your face, approaching it to his as your lips connected in a soft kiss. It was not the kind of kiss that you would expect from Eric, all rough edges, but the from the true Eric, that boy who has felt rejected all his life and has hid all his fears behind a tough demeanor.

As you parted Eric stood up, offering you his hand which you accepted gladly "Now where to (Y/N)?"

"To the battlefield"

~~~~~~~

@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @beltz2016 @readsalot73 @kenzieam @captstefanbrandt @sserpente @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

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“Firehouse Blues” Part 1 of 2 - Negan x F!Reader

PART II

Request from anonymous: can you do a negan imagine where the saviors find a woman who's living alone in a huge building and has a lot of supplies and guns and the saviors try to take the supplies but she used to be a engineer and has a strong security system so no one can access the building. and one day she meets negan and agrees to a trade. thanks :)

Word Count: 3448

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “It’s A Man’s Man’s World” by Jurnee Smollett-Bell

Note: Another two part request! I was originally going to post this as one, but I wanted to post something for ya’ll so here you go. I had a lot of fun with this one. Mostly cause I love writing flirty Negan! Part 2 will be up soon! Thank you!

Reminder: If you want to be added to my main taglist or individual lists, just let me know!

------

The first time you met the Saviors, you had given them a single warning.

It was early morning when the trucks first rolled up to your firehouse. You had been living in the old fire station for about a year now and it had quickly become a fortress. With a mixture of scavenging and inventing, your home was not only well-armed but equipped with sophisticated security systems that included both machinery and the Dead. Being an engineer before the Turn, when you found the firehouse, it quickly became your new project.

A multitude of traps, alarms, and mirrors was placed around the property. From certain vantage points, you could see every entrance and it would be a miracle if anyone or anything could breach your walls. The collection of Dead was your most recent idea and so far it was working. It had taken you a few weeks to get everything perfect, but soon enough, you kept at least ten Dead ones confined within the entrance area of the firehouse. If anyone was to get through the front door, they would have to get through a group of the Dead that you could release with a single pull of a lever.

When you heard the caravan of vehicles approaching your home, you acted quickly. With a few adjustments and two pulls of a lever, two large hoses deposited gasoline out front of the building, ready for you to ignite it if necessary. The entrance to the main yard out front was lined with two large fire engines that blocked the other traps that you had set up, two tripwires that would activate a loud siren, calling any Dead within a few miles towards the building. You were safe behind your brick walls, but your enemy wouldn’t be so lucky.

Sliding down the fire pole that was just off your makeshift bedroom, you crept towards the main area of the station. In the main garage, you could hear your Dead on the other side of the door as they waited in the administration area. It had taken you a while to get used to the noise, but now if you didn’t have the constant groans of your hungry companions, everything felt too silent.

Climbing up one of the fire ladders, you looked through one of the windows at the top of the accordion door. In the bright sun of the morning, five trucks parked just behind the fire engines. Armed men and women exited the vehicles and gathered around your barrier, looking up at the firehouse in confusion.

You were aware that there were groups in the area. Some were considered safe havens, but of course, there were those who wanted what others had. Based on their weapons and how each of them carried themselves, you were certain they were the latter.

You climbed down from the window and ran for your armory. You kept your weapons in many different places throughout the station, never all together in one place. In the garage was where you kept most of your smaller pistols as well as your explosives. Grabbing two pistols, you slid them into your holsters. You also grabbed your parabolic listening device. You had found the long-distance microphone on a run a few months ago. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked great when listening to conversations that were right outside your home.

Making your way to the top level, you checked your traps along the way. Your Dead were secure, the tripwires fully ready, and every door was reinforced alongside automatic weapons that could be triggered with a few tugs of a rope. You then headed for your main “nest” as you called it. On the top floor of the firehouse, you had a full view of those who threatened your home and that is where you waited.

Peering through a rifle scope, you watched as a man with a rather impressive mustache exited the last truck. He walked with a swagger and a cocky grin on his face. He stared up at your fire station with gratification as if he had just won the lottery. Switching on the microphone, you held the disc towards the slightly open window and you listened.

“You know, when our new friend said this place was well-guarded, I thought he meant by actual men,” the man said. A woman to his left followed his line of sight with a frown.

“Maybe he was wrong, Simon,” the woman said. The man, Simon, shook his head and walked between the fire engines, gauging his surroundings. You watched on in silence.

“I don’t think so, Arat,” Simon said. “He said this place was a fortress. A fortress with guns,” he said with a wicked smile. At his words, your stomach turned. You knew who he was talking about. You had invited someone into your home a month earlier. His name was Justin and he had been starving, weak, and in need of shelter. He was a former Sailor with the Navy so you had offered him sanctuary. Clearly, that had been a mistake. The bastard had betrayed you and brought these pirates to your doorstep. “Spread out!” Simon ordered. “Find a way in.”

The men and women nodded to their leader and began fanning out over your property. You ignored the teams that went to the sides of the building. They would need a bulldozer to get through your doors and even then, you were prepared to take on any intruders. Your main focus was the man with the mustache. He seemed too confident in trying to take your place by force.

You watched him carefully, gauging all his reactions and how he scanned his surroundings. There was a moment when you considered taking him out. A single bullet to the heart would kill him and allow you to add him to your collection downstairs. However, you had a feeling that if you did, the cavalry would return and conflict was not what you were aiming for here.

Simon picked his way towards the front of the building. You were surprised to see that he noted your tripwires almost instantly. He didn’t bother to disarm them as he stepped over each one and placed his hands on his hips. “I know you’re in there!” he sang, smiling up at the windows you sat behind. “Why don’t you come on out and we can discuss this like friends?”

Your eyes went to the gasoline that shimmered in the sun. Simon noticed it as well and toed it with his boot. “Careful, Simon,” Arat said, still behind the barrier the wires provided.

“Something tells me, we aren’t going to get the full welcome wagon,” Simon sighed. “Okay then! Guess we will have to do this the hard way!” Simon then whistled and three of his men approached with a battering ram. You were annoyed when they also took care to avoid the wires. Clearly, you had to do a better job at camouflaging them. The men placed themselves at your front door, ready to take it down, but all you did was smile. Reaching over to your left, you pulled up on a yellow-painted-lever and released your Dead.

As soon as the ram broke down the door, ten lumbering Dead men and women attacked your intruders. You heard the screams first. Two men went down as the Dead converged on them. “Fall back!” Simon yelled, running back to avoid gnarled hands and teeth. In his hurry, he didn’t avoid the wires this time and instantly your home lit up with a fire siren.

Simon and the others panicked as the Dead began appearing around corners. You had purposefully baited them with dead animals whenever you could. You found the Living avoided highly populated areas of the Dead so it played in your favor. Panic ensued instantly as the men and women retreated to their vehicles. You pushed open your window and leaned out slightly, making sure Simon could see you. Meeting your eyes, he glared, cursing. You smiled widely at him and then lifted your middle finger to the sky.

“You might wanna hurry up!” you hollered at him, “I don’t think they’ve eaten in a while!” you shouted, gesturing to the Dead that stumbled towards his people. Simon looked as if he wanted to shoot you right there, but he made the smarter choice and ran for his truck.

“Go!” he yelled, jumping into the passenger seat and slamming his hand against the roof. The trucks raced away from your home, firing at stray Dead as they did. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched them flee. However, it was then that you realized you had to reset all your traps and you sighed in annoyance. The Dead would be easy to replace, but it was always a hassle to reset the wires and disperse the hungry bodies that surrounded the area after the siren.

Speaking of which, you ran to the other side of the room and slammed your hand against the emergency shut-off button, turning off the deafening sound. Listening to the increased groans of the Dead, you picked up a length of chain that hung on a hook. “This is gonna take all night,” you said with a deep sigh, but you knew it was worth it.

You were considering adding more than ten this time. The only thing that would make the situation better was if you could get your hands on Justin and hang his traitorous ass on the front gate as your first warning. Perhaps one day you would get the chance, but for now, you had work to do.

--------

It was two months later when you finally met the man in charge.

You were on a run for parts to fix a radio you had found in the boiler room when you heard the sound of clashing metal. Running towards the sound, you saw a supply truck tipped over on its side and the Dead circled it like sharks after prey. You thought about turning away. It wasn’t rare for people to come through your area of town. They would get into rough situations and either they lived or they didn’t. You never felt as if it was your duty to intervene. However, when you saw who exited the truck, you reconsidered.

Climbing out of the passenger side window, a tall, handsome man slid to the ground. In his hand, he held a barbed-wire-wrapped baseball bat, and as soon as he got his bearings, he swung it, crushing in skulls immediately. You watched this man fight through the small herd of Dead as they attempted to make him their lunch.

His leather jacket was splashed with black blood and it seemed as if he was limping heavily. You figured he was injured from the crash, but it didn’t seem to stop him. It was clear to you that he was a survivor and that was what made you pull your weapon.

You ran towards the man, firing on the remaining Dead. He turned to you in surprise before going back to swinging his weapon. Neither of you spoke as your dispatched the rest of the corpses. You then found three feasting on a body that hung limply out of the truck’s windshield. You pulled your knife and took them out, stabbing each of them in the back of the head.

When all was quiet, you turned to find the survivor bent over, leaning on his bat for support. “You alright?” you asked, slightly out of breath.

“Am I alright?” he asked, slightly amused. “Shit, Darlin’, you’re the one who went all fucking Rambo on these dead assholes. I am more than alright considering how much badass I just witnessed,” he said and you found his deep voice incredibly soothing, even when he was swearing like a sailor.

“Your injury,” you said, pointing at his leg, “is it a bite?”

“Nope, just your average big ass cut,” he said, pulling up the leg of his pants. The wound looked deep, most likely from a piece of metal. Looking around, you made a quick decision.

“I can patch you up if you want. My place is just around the corner,” you said, already regretting it. He looked at you for a moment before shrugging.

“Figure I don’t have any other options,” he said, “Lead the way.” You went to his side and pulled his arm around your shoulders, giving him support.

“Ya got a name?” you asked as you pulled him towards your firehouse.

“Negan,” he grunted, clearly in more pain than he first led on. “And what can I call you, my white knight?” he asked, smiling down at you.

“(Y/N),” you said, “and I’m no white knight. Just figured you’ve already had a shitty day. No need to make it worse.” Negan laughed, a broad smile encompassing his bearded face.

“I’ll take it,” he said and you smiled slightly. You took Negan through a back alley and then down the main street that led to your home. As you got closer to the fire station, Negan swore under his breath.

“What is it?” you asked, suddenly on alert for any danger.

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific there, bud,” you said, hauling him down the pavement.

“The firehouse chick,” he explained. “My men tried to take this place a couple of months ago and you unleashed a shit ton of corpses on them!” he said, extremely exuberant. “Simon said you were a spitfire, guess he was right after all.” Hearing Simon’s name, you jerked away from Negan, throwing him to the ground. “Shit!” he swore. You pulled your pistol and aimed it at his head. “Whoa there!” he said, raising his hands.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you and mount your head on my wall?” you asked him, releasing the safety on your weapon.

“How about the fact that you’re all about defense and not offense?” Negan offered as he stared down the barrel of your gun.

“And how would you know that?”

“Simon said that everything that happened that day was all bells and whistles. Shit worthy of a badass and a badass you are,” Negan said.

“Your men tried to rob me, take my weapons, and they didn’t seem to care about whether I had people inside,” you told him.

“And did you? Have people?” he asked, his eyes flashing between the gun and your face. With a sigh, you dropped the gun.

“No, I prefer to be alone. Tried to have someone with me once and well, he went and told your boy Simon about my place. Haven’t seen him since, but I plan to gut him from head to toe when I do,” you said, holstering your weapon. “Do I have to do the same to you?” Negan grinned once again.

“No, ma’am,” he said, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I’m quite fine with whatever you decide to do with me.” You rolled your eyes at his innuendo.

“If I bring you inside, are you gonna try to take my shit?” you asked, your hand still resting on the pistol at your side.

“Wouldn’t dream of stealing from the woman that is offering to nurse me back to health,” he said, tilting his head to the side. You offered your hand to him.

“I’m holding you to that,” you said and he took your hand. You helped him to his feet and resumed your earlier position. “I meant what I said about mounting your head.”

“I have no doubt that you did,” Negan said. “All the more reason for me to behave,” he said with a wink and you tugged him along with a jerk that had him tripping on the buckled sidewalk.

------

Arriving at the station, you took him through the side entrance.

Negan leaned against the brick wall as you unlocked the steel door with a series of latches and the help of a small crowbar. “What the hell did you do before all of this? CIA?” you looked up at him, annoyed.

“I was an engineer, genius,” you explained, and with a kick, the door opened. You grabbed his arm again and hauled him into the building.

“Yeah, I guess that makes more sense,” Negan said, leaning heavily on you. You closed up behind you and then took Negan down the hall towards the stairs.

“If you fall, try not to take me down with you,” you said.

“Have some faith, Darlin’,” he said as you started to ascend the stairs. “So, why a firehouse?” he asked.

“It was convenient,” you explained. “And I like the area.”

“Prime apocalyptic real estate, huh?” he joked.

“Something like that,” you said as you finally made your way to the top level. You dragged Negan over to your bed and dropped him. “You’re a lot heavier than you look,” you panted.

“It’s my big...personality,” he said with a suggestive smile.

“More like your big ego,” you said before heading over to the cabinet on the wall. Negan peeled off his jacket, dropping his bat by his feet. You grabbed your first aid kit and a bottle of water and went back to him. Negan leaned back against the wall and you sat at his feet, prepping a bandage and antiseptic. “Roll up your pant leg,” you said. “And no, you do not need to take your pants off,” you said before he could say the lewd remark that you knew was on the tip on his tongue.

“Damn, you’re good,” Negan said, but did as you asked. Placing a towel under his calf, you cleaned the wound the best you could. You were right before, it was pretty deep.

“Needs stitches,” you said, grabbing the sewing kit.

“Go for it,” Negan said, placing his hands behind his head. As you stitched his wound closed, he almost seemed content with the situation.

“You don’t get a lot of downtime, do you?” you asked.

“How can you tell?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Because you’re practically asleep while I tug your flesh back together.”

“I got people to lead,” Negan explained. “Doesn’t allow much leisure time.”

“Right, the people that you lead to steal the supplies and homes of others,” you said bitterly as you soaked the freshly stitched wound with alcohol again.

“We all do what we have to in order to survive,” Negan said, his tone more serious.

“You don’t have to be a looter,” you said, wrapping his leg. You tightly secured his wound and then gathered up your supplies. You gave Negan the water and got up, turning your back on him.

“Why are you alone?” he asked after a few minutes. You leaned against one of the steel columns and stared at him, trying to make your mind up about the man before you.

“I stopped trusting people years ago,” you told him, “And every time I decide to try it again, they screw me over. No people, no problems.”

“Sounds lonely,” he said, his eyes softening.

“You get used to it,” you said, pushing off the column and going over to your work desk, fiddling with pieces of tech. You were bent over the radio, trying to rewire it when you felt his presence behind you. “If you rip your stitches, I won’t redo them.” Negan laughed and took a seat in the chair by your desk.

“I want to offer you a deal, (Y/N),” Negan said, watching you with curious eyes.

“I nearly killed your man, Simon, what makes you think I want to make a deal with you?” you asked.

“Look, Simon, he means well...sometimes and while he is my right-hand, he’s not me. My men do many things in my name, but when it comes down to it, I’m the one who should be shaking hands and kissing babies.”

“And that’s what you want to do with me?” you questioned.

“I think you and I can have a very beneficial relationship,” he said, running his hand over his chin. “Strictly professional, of course.”

“Of course,” you mocked. “Negan, I appreciate that you want to make some kind of deal, but I don’t deal with people that prey on others.” Negan leaned forward.

“Darlin’, I am more than happy to go by your rules,” he said slowly, “but I want you to hear me out. Who knows, maybe you’ll find I’m not that bad after all.” You leaned towards him as well, staring him down. He glanced down to your lips. Quirking a brow, you smirked.

“Don’t hold your breath, Darlin’.”

TAGS: @thanossexual

#the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #negan imagine #badass reader #reader x negan #reader insert #walkerwords #twd imagines #twd pre season 7 #Simon #Arat #Saviors #walking dead fic #walking dead fanfic

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tipsycad147 · 4 years ago

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Using Magical Poppets and Dolls

You're the only one who can decide what's ethically acceptable for you. Michelle Constantini/Getty Images

By Patti Wigington

Updated January 05, 2019

The magical poppet is one of the most commonly used implements in sympathetic magic, which follows along on the theory that “like creates like.” Although TV shows and movies typically show poppets as the stereotypical "voodoo doll," poppets have been around for a long time, and used in a number of different cultures and religious belief systems. There are many ways to create a poppet, and they can be used to harm or to heal; if you create a poppet of a person, anything done to the poppet will affect the person it represents. Bear in mind that some magical traditions discourage the use of poppets. If you're not sure whether or not it's okay for you to use poppet magic, you may want to check with someone in your tradition.

A poppet is usually made from cloth or fabric, but you can also make one from clay, wax, wood, or just about any other material. You can fill your poppet with herbs, stones, bits of wood, paper, or anything else that suits your needs. In addition to magical items, it's a good idea to include some cotton or polyfill as stuffing material.

Once the poppet is created, you'll need to connect it to the person it represents, which is typically done by using a magical link of some sort. Remember, the poppet is a useful magical tool, and can be used in a variety of workings. Use it for healing, to banish harmful people from your life, to bring abundance your way — the choices are practically limitless.

Poppet History

Fetish dolls on sale at a market in Togo. Danita Delimont/Getty Images

When most people think of a poppet, they automatically think of the Voodoo doll, thanks to this item's negative portrayal in movies and on television. However, the use of dolls in sympathetic magic goes back several millennia. Back in the days of ancient Egypt, the enemies of Ramses III (who were numerous, and included some of his harem women and at least one high-ranking official) used wax images of the Pharaoh, to bring about his death. Let's look at some of the historical uses of poppets in spellwork.

Greek Kolossi

It wasn't uncommon for the Greeks to use sympathetic magic in workings related to love or war. Christopher Faraone, Professor of Classical Languages and Literatures at the University of Chicago, is one of the foremost authorities on Greek magic today, and says that Greek poppets called Kolossoi were sometimes used to restrain a ghost or even a dangerous deity, or to bind two lovers together. In Idyll 2, The Witch (Pharmakeutria), written about 200 b.c.e., the tragedian Theocritus refers to melting and burning wax dolls. He relates the tale of Simaetha, rejected by Delphis, attempts to get her lover back with magic.

The Princess Who Played with Dolls

Wax dolls certainly weren't limited to the ancient classical world. The one-time Princess of Wales, Caroline of Brunswick, was married to the man who later became King George IV, and evidently couldn't stand him. She spent many hours forming wax dolls of her husband and jabbing them with pins. Although there's no concrete evidence as to what this may have done to George, when Caroline ran off to Italy with her young lover, George didn't object. The royal couple remained married but lived separately until Caroline’s death in 1821, according to Witchcraft and Evidence in Early Modern England by Malcolm Gaskill.

West African Fetish Magic

West African slaves brought with them a doll called a fetish when they were forced to leave their homes and come to the American colonies. In this case, the doll is not so much representative of an individual, but is in fact possessed by spirits connected to the doll’s owner. A fetish contains significant power and is typically worn or carried by its owner as a talisman. During America's Colonial period, slave owners were allowed to kill any slave found with a fetish in his possession.

American Hoodoo and Folk Magic

In American Hoodoo and folk magic, the use of poppets as a magical tool became popular following the Civil War. There is some dispute as to whether the dolls are used at all in Haiti, which is the home of Vodoun religion, and a few sources disagree on whether the use of poppets is truly a Vodoun practice or not. However, the Voodoo Museum of New Orleans does stock a variety of dolls in their gift shop.

Regardless of how you make your poppet — out of cloth, a chunk of meat, or a glob of wax, remember that poppets have a long tradition behind them, and that tradition is influenced by the magical practices of a wide range of cultures. Treat your poppets well, and they will do the same for you!

Make Your Own Poppet

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A poppet can be as simple or as elaborate as you like — it all depends on how much time and effort you want to put into it. You can construct one out of just about any material — cloth, clay, wood, wax. Use your imagination! In some magical traditions, it's believed that the more work you put into it, and the more complex it is, the stronger your link will be to your goal. Because a poppet is a device for sympathetic magic, all of its components will be symbols of what it is you hope to achieve.

You can do your poppet-making as part of the working itself, or it can be made ahead of time so you can use the poppet later on. Which method you choose is really up to you.

Remember, your poppet represents a person, so figure out before you begin who it symbolizes. Is it you? A friend who's asked you for help? An un-named lover you want to bring into your life? A gossip you want to shut up? The possibilities are endless, but just like in any spell working, you'll need to set a goal before you begin. It keeps you from having to deal with "do-overs" later. These instructions are for a basic poppet construction, using fabric. Feel free to modify your design as you need to.

Selecting Your Fabric

There are no real rules when it comes to choosing your material, but it's not a bad idea to select fabric based on your goal. If you're doing a money spell, use a piece of green or gold cloth. If you're looking at healing, perhaps something in a soft blue or silver would be best. Check out fabric stores around the holidays, and you can find all kinds of neat patterns.

Valentine's Day designs are perfect for matters of the heart, and there are plenty of prints with dollar signs, coins, stars and moons, and other fun designs.

Another option is to use fabric that links the poppet to the person it represents. Doing a healing spell for a friend? Ask the person for an old t-shirt. If you're trying to draw love into your life, consider using a scrap from that sexy lingerie you wore last night. If you just can't find the right material, use a plain muslin or white felt. Here are a few ideas for designs and colors for poppet magic.

Animals: Brown or green fabrics, patterns with cats or dogs, anything pet-related

Banishing: Black fabric, designs such as swords or wands, dragons or fire

Creativity: Orange or yellow fabric, prints of suns or other fire symbols

Healing: Silver, white or blue, with designs of clouds or other air symbols

Love: Pink or red material, designs like hearts, roses or other flowers, Cupids

Money: Silver, gold or green fabric, or designs of dollar bills or coins, cups or earthy symbols

Protection: Red or white material, with patterns of shields, keys or locks, fences, mistletoe

When it comes to types of fabric, use what's easiest for you to work with. Cotton prints are easy to sew, but if you've never used a needle and thread before, you might want to try something stiffer like felt — it comes in every color you can imagine, and will hold its shape as you sew. If you're an experienced sewer, use anything you like.

A poppet represents a person, so ideally it should look (sort of) like a person. Give it a head, two arms, two legs, a torso. You can make your own outline or you can use the ultimate poppet pattern — a gingerbread man. If you're doing a spell for an animal — such as a healing spell for a sick pet — make the poppet shape accordingly. Your poppet doesn't have to be huge, but it should be big enough that you can stuff it with your ingredients later.

Take two pieces of your fabric, and place them right side together on a flat surface. Place the pattern on top, pin it in place, and cut it out. Leave a little room around the edges for a seam allowance — usually a 3/8" margin is good. Remove the pattern, and there are your two poppet shapes. Time to start sewing!

If you've never sewn anything by hand before, don't panic. It's not hard, but it does require some patience. You could always use a sewing machine if you're pressed for time, but most experienced poppet-makers agree that it's worth the effort to do it by hand. Pin the two pieces of material with the right sides together, and stitch around the edges. Leave an opening somewhere, wide enough to stick a couple of fingers in. Turn the poppet inside out, and begin stuffing.

Personalize Your Poppet

Fill your poppet with something soft, like polyfill or cotton balls. Old pantyhose work nicely too. Work the stuffing all the way into the nooks and crannies of the arms and legs, and then fill the torso and head.

This is where you'll place your spell components — herbs, stones, whatever. In some magical traditions, something from the person represented goes inside the poppet. This is alternately referred to as a taglock or a magical link — it can be bits of hair, nail clippings, body fluids, a business card, or even a photograph. Once everything is inside, sew the poppet completely shut.

The more you can customize your poppet, the better. Even if you've placed a magical link, or taglock, inside, you'll want to decorate the outside too. Draw or paint or sew a face onto your doll. Add yard or string for hair. Dress your poppet in something that looks like the person's clothing. Copy any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing features onto the poppet as well. Add magical or astrological symbols if you like. While you're doing this, tell the poppet who it represents. You can say something along the lines of, "I have made you, and you are Jane Jones."

Your poppet can be used for any number of things—love, money, protection, healing, to get a job. Anything you can imagine, you can make a poppet to bring it about. Simply figure out your goal and the means to achieve it. The only limits on poppet construction are your own creativity and imagination.

6 Easy Poppet Projects

Make protective poppets for each member of your family with modeling clay. amanaimagesRF/Getty Images

Not sure what sort of poppets to create, or how you can use them in a practical application? Try one of these six easy ideas for making and using your own poppets.

1. To Get a Job You've Applied For

Material: satin, green or gold or silver

Herbs: clover, chamomile, ginger, cinnamon

Gemstones: snowflake obsidian or sodalite

Create a poppet to represent yourself. As you make it, focus on the positive attributes that you possess which will make you appealing to a potential employer. Another option is to create the poppet in the image of the employer (include business cards or letterhead inside, if you can get them) and tell the employer poppet why you're the best person for the job.

2. To Protect Your Family

Material: Modeling clay

Herbs: Basil, patchouli, coffee

Gemstones: Hematite, amethyst, black onyx.

Create poppets that represent each member of the family, blending herbs and stones into the clay. Put them in a safe place in your home, such as near your hearth, and utilize magical shielding or cast a circle of protection around them. This is actually a fun project you can get your kids involved in as well — let them each make their own poppet person!

3. To Heal a Sick Person

Material: White cotton or unbleached muslin

Herbs: Lemon balm, feverfew, ivy, and pine.

Gemstones: Bloodstone, turquoise

When you make this poppet, be sure to indicate what you are trying to heal, whether it's a case of tennis elbow, a chronic infection, or even a broken heart. Focus all of your energy on the ailment in question.

4. To Bring Love Into Your Life

Material: Red or pink silk or cotton

Herbs: Rose petals, parsley, and peppermint

Gemstones: Barite, jade, rose quartz

Make a poppet to represent the object of your affection — remember that in some magical traditions it is frowned upon to make a specific person the target of your working. If you are simply trying to attract love to yourself, but you don’t have a specific person in mind, focus on all the desirable qualities you want to see in a potential lover.

5. Silencing a Gossip

Material: Ground beef or other squishy meat

Herbs: Horseradish, pepper, rue, yarrow, valerian

Shape the meat and herbs into a person, and create a "meat puppet" in the same way you'd make a fabric one. As you make the doll, tell it that it's time to be silent, and tell no more gossipy stories. Remind it that people who can't say nice things shouldn't say anything at all. Dispose of the doll by either burning it on your grill and burying it someplace far away, feeding it to your dog, or leaving it out in the sun to rot.

6. Emergency Poppet on the Fly

Material: Aluminum foil

Perhaps something has come up in a hurry, and you feel it needs immediate magical attention. Use a piece of aluminum foil to whip together a quickie poppet — shape it into the figure of a person. Fill with any magical components that might be handy — bits of wood, dirt, grass, even a name scribbled on a piece of paper — and personalize the poppet.

Need additional poppetry ideas? Try making a magical gingerbread poppet, or put together a portable poppets kit to keep in your magical arsenal!

https://www.learnreligions.com/what-are-magical-poppets-4072783

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darlinvandijk · 5 years ago

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Okay since i can sing i can just imagine reader and Ruel singing Best Part or something while it rains outside or he finds out that reader can sing when shes just singing to herself thinking that shes alone and freaking out being like "BABE WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME" "OHMYGOD WE CAN DO DUETS NOW" etc and just being obsessed with the fact that his gf can sing as well

So honestly this was written very fast and I kinda just manically typed it up and decided it was the move so I hope y’all enjoy this jumbled mess I made and I added some cute touchy fluff and a little making out because it’s quarantine and why not fuck with y’alls hormones (holy shit I’m adding in this rn before I post it and oh god I think I fucked with my own hormones as I wrote it, I’m dyING) (it’s also like kinda uhm sexual if you didn’t get the hint, NO smut, but definitely sensual towards the end!!!) :) xx

~Secrets & Rainy Days~

I pick up Ruels dirty clothes off the floor, throwing them into the hamper we have in the corner of the room, deciding that today’s rainy day would be dedicated to cleaning. Trust me, I’d rather sleep and watch Netflix all day, but when you live with a walking tornado of a boyfriend, you sometimes just don’t have a choice. We have a system though, since he does all of the cooking and errand running (usually making me go with him because he gets “lonely”), while I just tidy up the apartment once it starts to look a little messy. It’s not like he doesn’t clean at all or leaves his mess everywhere, he just doesn’t know a thing about organizing and loves to leave his dirty socks on our bedroom floor.

As I finish up our bedroom, only having to pick up a few articles of clothing, and fix our bedside tables, I hear him start to strum on his guitar. I instantly get excited, since one of my favorite parts about cleaning days, is that he always sings, giving me my own private concert. I softly smile and grab his hoodie off of our desk chair, taking it outside to him since he’s only in a t-shirt and sweats, knowing he’d sit out on the balcony and play regardless if he gets cold or not. I stop in front of his favorite outdoor sofa, laughing at the way he has an umbrella strategically placed to block the light rain coming down just so he could stay out here.

“Thanks my love, since today is cleaning day, what songs do you want to request? I also opened the other windows so you could still hear me” he softly questions, giving me a boyish grin while grabbing the hoodie from my hands. I ponder over his question before giving him a small shrug, choosing to rush from the doorway and to get under his umbrella, so I could climb up on to his lap. He lets out a laugh, setting his guitar against the chair where it could still be protected from the rain, but give him space to wrap his arms around me.

“Hm I don’t know, surprise me? You already know I love everything you sing” I mumble, pressing my lips lightly against his neck, laughing when he shivers from the contact. I press another kiss to his neck, slowly making my way around the base of his throat, leaving a trail of light pink marks as I go. I get to his favorite spot, a little bit below his ear, and lightly bite down, smirking when he lets out a groan and digs his fingers into my hips. Before I can even try to keep going, my face is pulled away from his neck, his lips instantly smashing upon mine.

I let out a light gasp as he kisses me, my mouth instantly being filled with the taste of cherry chapstick, the chapstick I know he stole from my purse. I grip on to his shoulders, his own hands gripping my hips and pulling me against him, before I start to become restless. My hands move up into his hair, lightly tugging on it as he groans into my mouth, before I swipe my tongue across his bottom lip. He pulls away from me with a chuckle, lips and face flushed red, and a light smirk on his face.

“As much as I love having you on top of me, I already know you’re going to be mad tonight if you don’t get all your organizing done, so let’s postpone this for when you’re done” he laughs out, eyes focused on the pout that forms on my face, knowing I was about to start whining. I open my mouth to complain that I want attention, only to get cut off right before I can even speak since he leans in and gives me another kiss. “Lets make a deal, once you finish up, we can do whatever you want. Sound good baby?” He says with a soft smile, knowing exactly what I was going to ask for.

“Cuddles and kisses?” I ask, resting my hands on both sides of his face, feeling the soft skin move as he presses a kiss against my palm. He gives me a small nod of approval, knowing just exactly how I like to spend our lazy days together, which is with him absolutely showering me in love and attention. “Fine, I guess I’ll go finish what I need to do, buuuut I want a kiss. Just one more” I tell him, giving him a small pout as I run my thumb across his bottom lip. He chuckles at my whining, giving my thumb a kiss, before grasping the side of my face in his hand.

“One more kiss and then you gotta go do whatever it is that you do when organizing” he whispers, his mouth pressing against mine right after. I lean in more, adding more pressure in hopes of distracting him, only for him to pull away with one last peck against my lips. “I know what you’re trying to do, it’s not gonna work this time sweetheart” he laughs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as I roll my eyes, knowing I’ll have to wait till later for him to give me more attention. I climb off of his lap, turning so I can get out from under his umbrella, when his hand flys out and roughly smacks against my ass.

“Rueloff” I screech, jumping from under the umbrella, only to end up standing in the rain, a glare heavily directed at the lanky bitch. His head is thrown back as he laughs, a sound that would usually be music to my ears, now making me want to punch him in the head. “You’re literally so annoying” I grumble out, walking back into our bedroom to change, already feeling to spots where the shirt was sticking to my skin.

“You weren’t saying that like 2 seconds ago when you were basically trying to get me to strip on our balcony” he says trying to get a rise out of me. I let out a scoff, a small smile picking at my lips though, since I could never genuinely be mad at him. I finish putting on one of his sweaters, before making my way to our living room, since that was the room that needed the most fixing up.

I start picking up the random things we leave laying around, when I hear him start to play on his guitar again, waiting to see just what song he picked out to surprise me with this time. He starts strumming the beginning chords of self control by frank, before his voice starts to drift throughout the room, a smile of pure adoration on my face as I hear the voice I love more than anything. I finish picking up all of the things left out, rearranging pillows and blankets on the couches, before deciding it’s time to do my least favorite thing. Dusting. Some might ask why I hate having to dust things off, well let me tell you why. Whenever I dust things off, it always somehow manages to just get the perfect amount of dust particles in the air, making me sneeze like crazy every time. Usually to the point where Ruel has to stop singing because he’s laughing so hard. Laughing so hard at my pain, because he’s a terrible person like that. Such a sadist honestly.

I get out the duster, completely filled with dread, only to end up filled to the brim with excitement as I hear the new song he decided to play. My heart beating out of my chest with love as he sings the song he dedicated to me, saying it almost perfectly described the love he felt for me, but not quite since no words could ever fully describe it. The sounds of him singing, with the light rain mixed in, causing me to feel nothing but pure bliss.

“You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring, won't you give yourself to me” I softly sing, creating a harmony only I could hear with both of our voices, lightly dusting off the tv stand that was starting to form a layer of dust. I move around the living room, singing to myself, while surprisingly not sneezing from the dust flying up into the air. Also surprisingly not hearing the guitar stop and light footsteps heading into the living room. “I just wanna see, I just wanna see how beautiful you are, you know that I see it, I know you're a star” I sing, a smile on my face as I dance and dust around our living room, completely in my own little world as the lyrics blissfully spill from my lips. Not noticing the love of my life, also in complete bliss as I sing our song, the song that has now become even more important to him. He finally decides that he can’t stay silent anymore and instantly tackles me on to our couch, absolutely smothering me in kisses.

“Baby!! You never told me you could sing, like holy shit this changes so many things” he all but screams out, his eyes almost glowing with affection as he stares down at my horrified face, which is burning in complete embarrassment as I realize he heard me singing. “Fuck I already know we have to do a duet with this but now I need to figure out all the other duets we can do” he mutters, completely ignoring me underneath him, and getting lost in all the ideas forming in his head at a rapid pace.

“Oh my god no, Ruel I literally barely sing. That wasn’t anything special” I groan out, face completely buried in his neck, not wanting him to see how red I was turning from all of his praise and attention. He roughly pulls back and stares at me in shock, acting like I just told him I ate Wilbur for breakfast. “Stop looking at me like that” I whine out, knowing he’s going to make this a huge deal, since he’s always been a bit more on the dramatic side.

“Are you kidding me? You were insane, like literally fucking legendary” he cries out, the giant grin on his face still there, and not leaving any time soon. I reach my hand up and cover my face, trying to not get even more flustered than I already was, if that’s even possible. “I’m being serious baby, you know I wouldn’t try and get you to sing with me for the fans if I didn’t think you were going to do great. You’d honestly be better than me, don’t underestimate yourself” he softly says, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose as he finally takes in how apprehensive I am about this.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m still very mortified that this even happened and just want cuddles now” I mumble, looking up into his eyes as he stares down at me with a cute smile on his face. He nods his head before leaning down, pressing his lips against mine in a soft but love filled kiss, before he gets up and extends his hand to me. I grab his hand and get off of the couch, only to get thrown over his shoulder as he jogs to our room. I let out a shriek as he tosses me on the bed, jumping on top of me meee seconds later, before he smashes his lips on mine in a rushed manner, leaving me completely dazed.

“God I’m so fucking in love with you” he mumbles against my lips, his hands traveling all over me as he picks up the pace of our kiss, grabbing one of my legs to wrap around his waist. I let out a soft gasp as his lips travel down my neck, leaving little marks all over as he mutters how much he loves me in between kisses, my back arching up into him on instinct from his touch. “So fucking in love with you” he groans out, leaning up to press our lips together, his hands finding mine and interlocking them above my head, before I pull away completely out of breath.

“If I would have known you’d react to me singing like this, I would have sang for you a lot sooner” I gasp out, my chest heaving up and down as I try to steady my breathing, Ruels breathing just as staggered as mine. He leans in and gives me a slow kiss, completely taking my breath away again, before pulling back with my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it fall back into place slowly with a smirk on his face. “Maybe this singing thing isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought” I mutter, eyes locked on his mouth as his tongue swipes out along his bottom lip. He lets out a quiet laugh, watching the way my eyes seems to twinkle as I stare at him, his mind completely and utterly focused on me.

“Oh trust me, you’ll be singing alright”

#one ruel #ruel #ruel van dijk #ruelvincentvandijk #ruel imagine #ruel imagines #ruel one shot #free time ep #imagines #one shot #x reader #imagine #ruel fanfic

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k-s-morgan · 4 years ago

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You have this idea that Harry needs to be obsessed with Tom to not leave him after the latter does something unforgivable, but I don’t see that as being true. Harry knows who he’s dealing with. And he is a man with a mission...I don’t imagine him ever abandoning it. Even if he didn’t love Tom he would stay because of his sense of duty towards his unborn loved ones. 2/8

Something I love in book Harry is that Voldemort’s darkness doesn’t faze him: “I won’t blast people out of my way just because they're there," said Harry. "That's Voldemort's job." 3/8

Like...where did that Harry go!? Your Harry seems to clutch at his pearls at the mere idea of Tom being a murdering asshole like... honey! That doesn’t make any sense.. he know this man all his life, saw the worst of him over and over again, the hell he’s surprised for?! And no, I am not buying the whole he was tricked by Tom’s oh so clever mask because book Harry is suspicious of everything! He gets obsessed! self-preservation mixed with a raw instinct that something isn’t right. 4/8

We teach people how to treat us. and Harry? He taught Tom to disregard his feelings. It’s the Dursleys all over again. unforgivable. 5/8

I was supposed to want harry and Tom to end up together but I don’t. No story I have read so far—no matter how messed up—managed to kill this ship for me, until I read this one. When they kissed I felt nothing. I suspect that when they finally end up together I won’t feel a thing either, you managed to kill any empathy I had towards the characters. 6/8

Sadly, I will stop reading your story. if you told me months ago that I would, I would’ve laughed out loud, but I just can’t be further disappointed anymore. I will forever treasure the first few chapters you posted, because they are perfect. It’s everything I felt as an obsessive/possessive child, but lately I felt nothing but a repulsed detachment from Harry’s constant whimpering. 7/8

If I learned something from my own experience it would be: Possessive people don’t need people who can’t handle their darkness, just keep that in mind, and please, please listen to criticism. You seem to only listen to people who agree with you, I saw you right off genuine criticism of Harry’s actions as silly frustration from your readership. It isn’t. You know something is wrong with your characterisation when more than one person gets hot and bothered about it. 8/8

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

I didn’t get the first part of your ask, so I’m publishing the ones that went through! Though to be honest, I’m not sure what you want me to tell you. I’m writing a dark and twisted story, one that’s definitely not for everyone. You can think or feel anything you do toward it - that’s normal. I’ve read my fair share of fics that made me rage-quit or made me depressed for days, and that’s fine, too, because we have our individual perceptions, likes, dislikes, and triggers.

I’m taken aback by your words that I shrugged off the criticism of Harry as silly. I addressed the message I got about it with respect and attention, writing an essay-long reply to explain my view and elaborate on my characterization. I don’t even consider this criticism, just differences in opinion: this is how I see canon Harry and the version he could become under certain circumstances. Harry was always forgiving. He was ready to move the world for people he loves. In WHGTB, he went back in time exactly because he wanted Tom to not grow up as Voldemort (and in many ways, he succeeded). In his understanding, he did everything in his power to make sure that Tom would not be a murderer, which is why he was stunned and devastated to learn that he failed here.There were no more victims after Beth, and Harry clings to the idea that his system is working, and that Tom will be able to hold himself off despite the situation he finds himself in. When Tom comes close to crossing the line, Harry is terrified, but he finds comfort in the thought that Tom stopped every time. Harry’s own morality became grey in this process, and to me, it’s believable in terms of his characterization.

I don’t agree that Harry is doing “constant whimpering” - I see him as actively fighting for Tom in every way he can (until the end, where he can’t take it anymore and leaves). Tom might have out-played him for now in a long-term perspective, but for years, Harry remained victorious because Tom was forced to follow his rules. I think Harry has objective expectations: he doesn’t wait for Tom to suddenly develop empathy and become a compassionate person. But he expects Tom to differentiate between acceptable and unacceptable, and to act accordingly. He remains highly suspicious to Tom’s actions, but he never expected himself to be the active target of Tom’s plotting.

You can hate it, be angry about it, think it’s OOC - that’s the matter of your perception. I have another one, and my story is obviously based on it.

Also, this part: “You know something is wrong with your characterisation when more than one person gets hot and bothered about it“ - actually, no, that absolutely doesn’t mean my characterization is wrong) It means it’s controversial enough to evoke different intense feelings in other people. Look at any semi-popular character in any book or movie - there will be lots of people arguing about their personality or decisions. That’s the beauty of fiction: it makes different people feel different things and reach different conclusions.

I’m sorry you aren’t enjoying the story any more, but of course it’s your choice. It’s not like I’m forcing anyone to read it) Like I always say, to each their own.

Edited to add: Also, to others who might decide to send me similar messages: even if you’re polite about it, I might not reply to you because I believe I’ve said everything I could about this matter here and in this post. I don’t have anything to add)

#my fics

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rpgsandbox · 4 years ago

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Wanderhome is a pastoral fantasy Role-Playing Game about traveling animal-folk, the world they inhabit, and the way the seasons change. It is a game filled with grassy fields, mossy shrines, herds of chubby bumblebees, opossums in sundresses, salamanders with suspenders, starry night skies, and the most beautiful sunsets you can imagine. You might be a tamarin who dances with small and forgotten gods, a leporine mail carrier who relies on moths to get packages where they belong, a little lizard with a big heart and a mysterious past, or a near-endless number of other thrilling possibilities. No matter what, we’re always travelers—animal-folk who go from village to village and get to see the length and breadth of all the world of Hæth. The seasons will change as we play, and we will change with them. But I can’t tell you all that will happen on our journey together, along the winding dirt road and amid the grassy fields. We’re just going to have to find that out together.

Will you join me?

Wanderhome makes use of a unique game system inspired by the No Dice, No Masters engine, developed by Avery Alder and Benjamin Rosenbaum for Dream Askew and Dream Apart. Each player will make a character with the help of one of fifteen possible playbooks, making choices about their personality, animal-form, look, and passions. Each of these playbooks give you a radically different approach both to navigating the setting and growing over time. From the carefree Ragamuffin to the introverted Poet, from the Guardian and their young ward to the lonely Exile, from the cheerful Dancer to the moody Veteran, there is plenty of space in Wanderhome to imagine every possible world that lives in your heart.

Once you’ve created your character, you and your fellow travelers guide them through the dreamlike pastoral world of Hæth. There are no dice in Wanderhome. Instead, you can inconvenience yourself or step outside your comfort zone in order to get tokens, and then turn around and spend those tokens to tackle larger problems and help make the world a better, kinder space.

Quote from Vincent and Elliot Baker of Lumpley Games

Quote from Samuel Mui Shen Ern, Babblegumsam

As you arrive at each new place, you’ll build it together using a combination of thirty-six distinct natures, including farms, fields, lakes, ports, glens, and towers, among many, many more. Each nature gives you the tools you need to imagine and articulate both the literal and metaphorical aspects of the place you find yourself in. These places have kith, ordinary people living ordinary lives, navigating a world that is both peaceful and difficult in its own ways. Each kith is made out of traits that range from crafty and adventurous to many-faced and oracular. These traits give kith things they can do to define their personality, articulate the problems in their life, and push the journey forward (for good or for ill.) Sometimes you’ll be able to help the kith with their problems, but more often than not you’ll just spend time with them and learn more about the world.

Wanderhome is structured with an emphasis on safety and care, built on my own work designing safety mechanics and constructing alternate safety approaches beyond the industry standards. It features a bespoke set of safety mechanics built around empowering players to guide the story however they want, which are used consistently throughout the game. It is also designed to collaboratively set the tone and articulate a version of Hæth that's perfect for your group.

Wanderhome is a GM-agnostic game–while you can play with a Guide facilitating the world, you can also approach it without anyone in charge, where everyone takes equal part in the collaborative conversation. And while you can play Wanderhome in as little as 3-4 hours, the longer you stay with Wanderhome the more the world will grow with you. The months will pass over time and as each season concludes you’ll get to make new choices about your character, advancing them in new directions and helping them grow in ways you didn’t think was possible. If you play long enough, eventually your characters will retire or grow apart, and the journey will continue with brand-new travelers and a vast world ahead of you.

The free playkit is available on Itch now! (Art by Letty Wilson)

Wanderhome is set in the wholly-original fantasy world of Hæth, inspired by the works of Brian Jacques, Tove Jansson, and Hayao Miyazaki. The game hints at and builds a mythological language around forces like the bitter King of the Floating Mountain, the Lily Rebellion, the Slobbering God and the blade that killed her, and the fall of the great dragons of old, but refuses to elaborate or define them—leaving that exercise to the players through the journey itself. Instead, Wanderhome is focused on the lives of ordinary people, and the world that exists for farmers, merchants, and crafts-folk.

Wanderhome is a world filled with animal-folk and their buggy livestock. Unlike many worlds with animal-folk, there is no morality or judgement ascribed to the various animals of Hæth—a snake is just as capable of being a kindly farmer as a rabbit, and you can’t assume much about someone based on what animal they are. You might find a fluffy shepherd with a herd of bumblebees, a shrewish merchant riding a stag beetle the size of a house, a lonely fox riding a grasshopper from place to place, or a praying mantis that hangs out in a gecko’s pocket.

Quote from Avery Alder, Buried Without Ceremony (Art by Jennie Lindberg)

Wanderhome also features an original calendar of new months and seasons, with its own cycle of holidays and traditions. From flowery Bloommeadow to brisk Firetop to snug and quiet Snowblanket, each month is both rooted in potentially familiar natural cycles but with a unique twist. Each place you travel to has a different expression of the seasons in it - no matter how many times you travel through the year, it will always feel different. If you play Wanderhome long enough, you might even encounter unique phenomena that create a new twist on the calendar.

The Hæth is a world full of queer love, hope, happiness, and community. It is a land that was once ravaged by violence, but is putting itself back together again. Wanderhome dares to imagine a better world, one where money and power are distant stories from a bygone age, and we can learn to begin the process of healing.

Thumbnails by Danny Kyobe and Jo Thierolf

Mockups of the Book (design not final)

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, September 3 2020 1:25 PM BST

Website: [Jay Dragon] [twitter] [patreon] [itch]

#RPG #kickstarter #Wanderhome #Jay Dragon

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themissingmarvel · 5 years ago

Text

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 1]

(Prompt: I did it. I finally did it.This is one of many chapters. I started this a solid six months ago, or so, and struggled. But it’s based off “Prisoners (2013)” with Jake Gyllenhaal who I’m lowkey in love with. That said, having seen the movie is helpful but not life altering. Takes place present day, years after the case was solved. And seeing as Conyers is fictional [well, Conyers, Pennsylvania] I took liberties with where it’s located in Pennsylvania. Sue me. Just be glad I didn’t choose Scranton. I almost did.

And as someone with a forensic psychology background, I tried to keep it pretty on point which means it’s a little more boring than the movies make it out to be.)

Pairing: Detective Loki (David) x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Language. Mentions of abuse.Brooding.

+++

Detective Loki wasn’t happy.

Well, he wasn’t usually a ray of sunshine, but today he really wasn’t happy.

An understatement, to be sure.

Detective Loki was filled with fury and a sort of passionate anger you could taste, if only he opened his mouth long enough to let it escape his lips.

But he didn’t.

Looking at him, standing in front of the whiteboard in the large conference room in the precinct, anyone would think him an average detective doing his work. The sleeves on his white button-down were clasped at his wrists, his shirt buttoned right up to the neck as it always was and without a tie. Unusual, but not strange in any way. Black pants hung off his hips, a black belt holding them up, his badge and gun strapped to him. His dark hair, as always, was slicked back and his icy eyes were focused.

He looked like an average detective. A gorgeous one, to be sure. He’d had his share of married women coming in for ‘noise complaints’ just to try and catch a glimpse of the man. And his heart, of course, that gentle space he pretended wasn’t so soft, had given him away. He was average as hell, save for the collection of tattoos he had gained in his troubled youth, at least.

Everyone in the damn precinct knew he wasn’t. Average, that is.

“Detective Loki? Agent (Y/L/N) is here. Should I send her in?” The young officer had pulled the short straw, a rookie kid who had started a few months ago. David didn’t know him well, but he did know his name. He knew everyone’s name.

Blinking hard a few times he placed his hands on his hips, eyes staying focused on the whiteboard, “Don’t really have a choice do I, Anders?” It was rhetorical. He knew he didn’t have a choice and he was vaguely aware Officer Anders would be too nervous to answer.

A moment of silence lapsed before Detective Loki rubbed his face, “Send her in.”

The Captain had warned Loki about this days ago. The disappearances in Conyers, they had realized, were not just isolated to Conyers. They spanned into Noxen, Benton, White Haven, and even out to Catawissa.

After ten disappearances were linked together from the different towns and cities, the Feds were finally called in.

“With all due respect, Captain, I can work this case on my own.” David’s voice had been collected at first as he stood in the Captain’s office, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed.

The Captain looked frustrated. He was, really. He’d been on the phone with five different precincts to coordinate information and speaking with the Feds on how to proceed. Everyone was pissed. No one ever wanted the Feds involved, “I get it, Detective, but orders are orders, you know that. And the Bureau wants us to let one of theirs in. I don’t get a say, and frankly neither do you.”

His voice raised now, “What about the Dover and Birch case? I got those sons of bitches on my own, the Feds didn’t even know about it until I caught them!” He was leaning forward.

O’Malley had gone from frustrated to pissed, “Just shut up for once and cooperate, OK? You work alone, I get it, but with the Black Rose case the Feds are involved and you’re gonna have to play nice. Or at least tolerable, understood?”

Looking at the pallid yellow wall to the left of him, David kept his eyes narrowed, his mouth in a straight line. Unspeaking, he turned and walked out of the office.

Fucking Feds.

Fucking Feds indeed. Footsteps, soft and light, were muffled still by the old, grey carpet with strange geometric patterns on it in the building as she walked towards the conference room. The case was already drilled into her head. Names. Dates. Locations. Buildings. Abduction theories. So far, Conyers had three of the ten abductions which was why they had sent (Y/N).

Other precincts had also gotten federal agents, but Conyers was special. Detective Loki was special. That was part of the problem.

When she stepped in Loki didn’t even flinch, save for the sharp blinks as he stared at the board. There were faces, three in fact, two men and one woman, smiling brightly. Next to each was the location of abduction. How did they know?

“Kind regards to Detective Loki,” (Y/N) broke the silence as she walked to the circular table nearby, placing her stack of folders and black messenger bag down. She was, of course, reading off of the note left with the black rose at each location the abductions had taken place.

David turned, a reminder flashing in his head to play nice, reaching out to take the woman’s hand, “Detective Loki. You’re Agent Y/L/N, correct?”

She was surprisingly stunning, he realized as he took her soft hand, stained lightly with blots of ink. Y/N looked softer than he expected, not like someone who’d ‘seen some shit’ in their day. He imagined on the street he’d have done a double take, subtly, if she walked by. He wanted so bad for her to be ghastly. Appalling. For her breath to smell and for her to sound whiny. He wanted a reason to be irked by her but so far all he found was that she was… lovely.

She smiled gently, “I am. Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” she took his hand firmly, shaking it, the tattoos not going unnoticed. Not much had, really. She knew about David. She’d asked for his file and his background. His cases solved. Any reports. And per her own curiosity, she had asked for a personal history on file. It had surprised her, just slightly, that he’d made his way from a delinquent boys’ home with dabbling in petty crimes in his youth to a top ranking detective. It wasn’t a common theme. But he was a good man, despite everything she read. He had taken the Dover and Birch case hard, forced to take a leave after it all settled. No follow-up evaluation was done in small towns like this.

When Loki drew his hand back he kept his lips pursed into a thin line, turning back to the board, “So the feds wanted a shrink involved? Did they send a shrink to every location or just Conyers?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the woman standing in a simple grey sweater hanging loosely off her shoulders and a pair of blue jeans and black Converse shoes. Not exactly ‘shrink’ material, really. Not that one would notice. Except David. He liked it, though. He liked that she seemed to fit and that she wasn’t trying too hard. Or being blase about the whole thing. He liked that she wanted to talk about the case and not prod about how he was doing or how cold it was. She was his type.

Fuck.

She inhaled sharply. Yale didn’t prepare you for how to deal with cops in high-profile cases. The bureau had warned her that she’d be unwelcomed and especially given she was a profiler; she was the one with the psych background. Sure, she’d done her criminology bit, but she’d never used her weapon. Hell, she didn’t even keep it holstered on her person. But Detective Loki knew that. She was that type.

“Well, Detective, Conyers was where the first two abductions took place, though the third a couple weeks after. And as you well know, your name was personally left at all scenes. Of course, in the other cities Detectives Miller, Warren, Riley, and O’Toole were all named in their notes as well. I suspect that if we don’t get moving soon, more notes and more roses will come up. I’m here because this is where it started and profilers start at the beginning.” Her voice had stayed steady and cool as she watched him, her form and posture unmoving, his doing the same.

The world paused for just a moment as she eyed David. Detective Loki. Man hardened by the system who had saved the lives of many. Who had rescued a father trapped and left for dead. She saw the religious-themed tattoos, the juvie ones on his knuckles. She saw his clean cut hair, shaven face, shirt buttoned higher than most but with no tie to speak of. She liked that. He stood out without actually standing out. And god… he was hot. Ah, shit. No. Stay professional.

It was quiet as (Y/N) stepped up to the board, able to see that while half focused on Conyers, the other had the abduction sites and pictures as well as the detectives named. There appeared to be no pattern. Nothing as of yet. Just names. Detectives.

“May I be candid with you, Detective?” She stood next to him, arms crossed in front of her chest as she stared at the white board.

Almost confused, David glanced over, not making a comment about being informal, “Sure.”

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes a moment and composing herself before looking back up at the board, “I don’t think any of them are alive.”

A look of anger fell over Detective Loki’s features, though perhaps not directed at Y/N as he turned to her completely, “How the fuck would you know that?”

On some level, he knew it.

Hostile. Well, of course.

“I don’t think they lived long after being abducted, Detective. I don’t think any of them did. Why kidnap ten adults and just… keep them?” She looked over at him, aware she’d hit a nerve.

Loki was perturbed as he narrowed his eyes, “We didn’t find any evidence of a struggle at any of the scenes. No blood, nothing broken, all perfect. Why take people peacefully then kill them?” He was drawing on his many years of detective work, and (Y/N) knew that. He was bright and he was skilled. It was why he had been allowed to work as the lead. The other detectives named hadn’t been so lucky. They were all too involved. At least, they weren’t as good at hiding it as David was.

But she shrugged, “Ted Bundy got women to his car before they even knew what happened on a regular basis. So that’s why I’m here, I guess. Make it make sense.” Concern fell on her features, Loki watching as she reached up and took a picture of Frank Cohen. He was about forty, blonde hair styled well on his head. Went to temple regularly with his wife and kid. He was a banker at a local credit union and had no real ‘enemies’ to speak of. A neighbor who hated that he didn’t keep up his lawn. Wife’s friend who’d tried to flirt with him. He was average.

Placing the picture back up, she reached across Detective Loki who silently stepped back, watching as she took the second picture. Liana Lopez. Dark hair hanging by her shoulders, early thirties, Hispanic, Catholic, didn’t attend services save for bigger occasions. Left behind a husband who was cooperative, a man who had relied on his wife for work as he’d recently been injured working construction.

That one went back up and she looked at the third without taking it down. Another caucasian man, this one only twenty-five, recently married to his husband. That one had first been the first and thought to be a hate crime, potentially, but with the rose and the note, and then the others, that had been ruled out. None of it made sense.

There was no discernable pattern, and it really pissed off both of them.

“This guy isn’t Ted Bundy. He’s worse than a psychopath,” Loki almost snarled out the words. In truth, he was aware that the individuals taken likely weren’t alive. What had frustrated all the precincts was where, then, they had gone. Why go through the effort of abducting people quietly, but leave a message behind to tell the world what happened?

Kind regards.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N squinted before looking at the scenes, “The words are very… well, they’re formal, but they aren’t sweet. They’re taunting, but you knew that already.” She stood, walking to the corkboard again and squinting as she eyed the abduction sites.

Well, presumed abduction sites. Why leave these anywhere else? No other places in the surrounding areas had signs of a struggle, the dogs and forensics had dug through cameras and they all seemed like these were the spots.

She turned to David, “Why does someone give a person a rose?” She raised an eyebrow.

Loki looked almost bored, though it was annoyance. He’d already asked himself this twelve times, “Sign of affection. So why a black one?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, but that’s the thing. The letter was left for you. The letters for the other detectives as well. But you…” she appeared to get distracted by her own thoughts, not unusual for the quirky woman, squinting again as she walked to the round, grey table and took the top file.

David was almost intrigued now, beginning to find himself drawn in, as he watched her, knowing there was some kind of process. He was still impatient, however, and still quite salty about the FBI coming in, “What about me?”

Pulling a few pieces of paper out, she grabbed a color copy of something out and walked over to David, “The last abduction was in Conyers, which you know. All the other detectives have been pulled off the cases for being too involved. But not you,” she glanced over at him, watching his face change as he glanced at her, then back at what was a copy of the last note, “No, you’ve stayed on. And this last note- here!” She pinned it to the board, pointing at the lettering, “The lines are darker. Thicker. The pen changed. Not the font or the style, but this note has more care put into it. Up until now, the notes all looked fairly carbon-copied, you know? But this one is-”

Quiet.

Staring at the lettering silence fell once she stopped herself from finishing.

Years ago she had felt that same pang in her gut she was feeling now. That overwhelming sensation of dread and panic. She felt it when she had watched the clip of a video someone had posted near a crowd where a murder had taken place. She had felt that gut wrenching sensation as his face appeared. It was hard to spot a murderer because at the core, she knew, everyone had that potential. But some had that piece.

Detective Loki was not endeared by any of this, though. He didn’t buy the idea that suddenly he might have mattered to this killer more than anyone else. Thicker font. Who cared? People lose pens. And he was going to say that before Anders entered once more, a look on his face. The look of a rookie who had never had to say those words before. Never had to tell a detective what he’d just heard. The look of a man who’d vomited before walking in.

That look.

He was falling over his words. Tripping and stumbling over them. He was grasping for them.

But it was Y/N who frowned and spoke quietly, “Just tell us where they found them.”

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