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#The more specific the question the better as it helps me condense my thoughts
lelengerine · 7 months
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helloo!!! I am so glad you are back again,really missed seeing you on my dash:(
also,from your mini drabble list, the arranged marriage au really caught my eye! can you please write it with jeno as the main protagonist? I don't have anything specific in mind except that I am obsessed with the opposites attract kinda trope but you can write it anyway you want! thank you in advance <3
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love, lee
pairing | prince!jeno x princess!reader
genre | royalty + arranged marriage au, jeno uses a nickname for reader (love), no pronouns are specifically used for this, lmk if there’s any i missed!
wc | 0.9k
notes | i think my love for royalty aus are really stating to show now TT this is my first jeno work and there were actually multiple entries for jeno with the arranged marriage trope so i hope this suffices for now (maybe i’ll make a part two or follow another req if i can !!) it’s not exactly the same as what anon mentioned because i tried to condense the ideas to the size of a drabble as much as possible but i love all ur brains so much LIKE TELL ME MORE 😭😭 anw likes, rbs, and feedbacks are very appreciated ;0;
this is part of my drabble req event here!
m.list
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there’s this prophecy that landed upon your kingdom just as its walls were newly established, one that spoke of prosperity if two individuals coming from royal backgrounds were to be wed under every full moon.
of course, that hasn’t come true (and you don’t believe it ever will), but both the civilians and the royal family hold onto that sliver of hope ever so dearly. though, in the position of being someone forced into the position of marriage, you can’t help but view the tradition as something simply bizarre and unnecessary.
moreover, you haven't a clue who you are about to marry. the thought irritates you to the core, and your mother’s repetitive words on how this was ‘something she experienced too’ not making you feel any better — in fact, it was dampening your already sour mood even further.
just why hadn’t this been dropped centuries ago? the answer to that question doesn’t seem to be keen on revealing itself to you.
and so here you are, behind tall wooden doors in a dress you struggle to move in — much less breathe in — that will soon reveal a banquet hall filled with your and your groom’s relatives, a plethora of aristocrats that you couldn’t even dare to name no matter how long you stared at them, and reporters who were ready to swarm you with questions whenever they’d get the chance.
“there’s no need to fear, my dear.” your mother states by your side, and a scoff is the first response she receives.
“i hope you understand that what you’ve said lacks any sensitivity for my situation.” you bitterly reply with a blank expression, not even turning to face her once. with that, she decides to keep silent, not wanting to aggravate you any longer.
the doors open, finally placing you on display for everyone to see, and the first person your eyes search for is your husband-to-be.
he stands in front of the beautifully decorated altar in a navy blue suit and fur coat that looks just as uncomfortable as the white gown you’re wearing, and you start to feel a little sympathy for him knowing he probably didn’t have any plans of marrying you either.
you were both victims in this grand scheme, after all.
a step, two steps, and before you know it, you’re meeting his gaze for the first time. he offers a soft smile that puffs up his cheeks ever so slightly, pupils shining beneath the lights that brighten up the entire hall, and for a moment, you forget how much you’ve detested this day to come.
‘get a grip, it’s definitely for show’, you mentally tell yourself as your lips return the kind gesture.
the ceremony soon starts, and the words spoken by the priest pass through your ears like static fuzz, not paying attention to the prophecy that was being retold to the audience.
“i assume you were forced into this?” you begin in a whisper, wanting only the person beside you to hear your voice.
you turn to gaze at him and he looks a little surprised you actually started a conversation. “sure.”
sure? what kind of response was that? the least he could do was respond with a decisive yes or no to not leave you hanging like this. perhaps that smile from earlier really was to fool the reporters on a loveless marriage
“could you at least tell me your name?” you try to reach out once more, “it’s laughable as is to know we are in the middle of being wed and i have not a single clue on who you are.”
“lee, jeno.” he responds, and though it technically is an answer to your question, you’re oddly left unsatisfied at how perfunctory it was. “yours?”
“l/n, y/n.” you state in the same manner as if you wanted him to feel the same as you did just moments prior. “how does it feel to get married to a stranger? because i surely find this unsettling.”
you tried to play into humor, hoping to get a better reaction out of him, but what he says shocks you instead. “we aren’t strangers though.”
“what-” you start to sputter, however the priest cuts you off at the mention of announcing your respective vows.
“i’m sure you’ll recall it soon enough.” jeno’s expression finally shifts from his icy facade to a sly smirk that perfectly exemplifies his features, and you’re not sure whether to find the sight unsettling or absolutely breathtaking. “because i’ve known you my entire life, love.”
the nickname has your mind reeling in circles, paying no attention to the vows jeno was now dictating like a memorized poem of sorts. there was ever only one person who’s called you by that name, though it could never be someone like him… could it?
you snuck out of the castle to one of the town’s bakeries back when you were younger, meeting a boy who told you he was doing the exact same thing because he swore their garlic bread was absolutely out of this world, and that’s exactly why you came in the first place. it was like you both clicked, and that meeting became the first of many. though, as you grew older, your hectic tutoring schedules made it difficult for you to frequent the bakery as much as you used to.
still, you remember he suggested exchanging letters as a means of keeping in contact, and he’s the only one who’s referred to you as love. his love.
you’re abruptly taken away from your thoughts as the priest repeats your name, “princess, your vows if you may.”
“oh um, sorry.” you quickly apologize, trying to gather yourself back up.
jeno’s gaze on you looks much more animated than before, almost as if there was a playful glint that replaced the cold ones from earlier. where was the man you met moments ago as the event started? “i suppose you remember now.”
“yeah.” you breathe out, “yeah, i do.”
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disniq · 11 months
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OK so I'm bad at watching TV but your Titans!Jason fic has me sort of curious about checking the show out. I'm mostly a comics!Jason fan (I coast on that knowledge to read your stuff) and I did read a wiki summary of his arc and wasn't super interested, but I think a real human with Jason opinions I tend to agree with might be a better indicator. So thoughts on picking up the show?
Hi there! Firstly, thank you very much! It’s always hugely flattering when someone who doesn’t watch Titans likes my Titans fics <3
Secondly, uh. Titans is not by any definition a *good* show.
It has so many issues. The casting is amazing, but the writing is choppy and inconsistent and the pacing is awful. They chose an interesting mix of characters, but their commitment to making everything as dark and edgy as possible back in 2018 makes it so that more often than not they're all deeply unlikable. Many of the concepts they introduce have absolutely fascinating wider implications but then the show fails to examine them in any meaningful way, and it often directly contradicts itself in ways that are incredibly frustrating!
It compels me though dot gif
But somehow, SOMEHOW, despite all that, or maybe because of it, they also managed to make an extremely compelling Jason!
Titans!Jason draws titbits from a whole bunch of different comic runs - he’s older when he meets Bruce ala Rebirth, his parents are the drug addict and the two-face grunt from post-crisis, some of the Scarecrow stuff in season 3 pays homage to the Arkham Knight and Injustice video games - but he’s very much his own character, you know? He’s also canonically ADHD, which I may have mentioned before but it really does define his character, even though the show never actually brings it up in relation to his issues or behaviour.
(It would also be remiss of me not to commend Curran Walters’ performance, because that kid put his whole heart into playing Jason for personal reasons and it shows! Even when the writing/executive choices were extremely questionable - looking at you, season 3 part 2 - he pulls it back enough for it to be watchable for me.)
ANYWAY, back to your actual question xD
Jason isn’t in all that many episodes anyways, so if you’re just interested in him specifically and you're not overly bothered about the plot, I'd recommend looking up season 3 episode 5 ("Lazarus"), which is the background ep for the build up to Red Hood and also the only 100% Jason focused episode. It's coincidentally my favourite episode, and if you watch the "previously on" section it'll cover all his major plot points in a handy dandy 45 minute window!!
And if you’re just here for the condensed angst, this fantastic video on youtube is four minutes long and really sums up the general feels Titans!Jason gives off!
I don't know if any of that is helpful, but thank you for letting me ramble about my special interest :D!
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For the relationship prompt, which interactions or friendship do you think affected Robin the most ?
Send my muse anons about their relationships. ANON ASK
Oh man, I'm going to have to answer this one as a mun because this changes a lot depending on where in the timeline you're asking. There's also A LOT of muses that Robin has interacted with! Please note that for this I will be mostly sticking to threads/interactions that have been developed in writing, almost all of Robin's relations have had an influence on him, but as for MOST--It'll be things me and the mun have developed/written together. I assume you mean in general but even that is a loaded question, so I'll be breaking this up into specific parts of his life or AUs because I do consider those quintessential for helping me as a mun develop him. (I will NOT be discussing Abel or Bel in this post as it is WAY too much and I could write a novel on their relationship. If you all would want this explained in a separate post, just let me know because it is extremely extensive).This is going to be LONG FYI, there's no way I could condense all of the wonderful relations Robin has made. So! Lets get this long post GOING!
POST-DEATH CANON VERSE:
Who would have thought being a revived corpse wandering for 2 straight years within Ionia would bring so many people into his life? One of the first and immensely influential relationships he had was when he left Ionia to travel to Bilgewater during the Harrowing, where he met Akio (@aquatic-hybrid) by coincidence, and the two worked together to clear the docks of the lost souls traveling from the Shadow Isles. Their relationships started off suspicious and unsure, but has led to one of the warmest, sweetest friendships Robin has had in a long time. It's a little stupid, but Akio gets hurt a lot and Robin has really been able to reconnect with the magic he's actually good at by healing him. Akio has pushed him over and over to be a better person, he hasn't asked too much about his past...and he just...accepts him. Robin really loves Akio as if he were his own brother, one of the people he truly feels at home with.
Another relationship that has humanized Robin is his friendship with Noelle (@songofsilentechoes), something about her kind nature just immediately drew him in and sparked his urge to protect her. This is one of those relationships that started off quite well and only got better as time passed; there was no judgement between the two of them and Noelle, like Akio, simply accepted him as he is. They meet together often for tea and a weekly book club where they read together and chit chat about life, Noelle's travels, any advice she might need in regards to magic etc. She is an extremely sympathetic and nice person--genuine to the point that Robin lowered his walls quite quickly with her, and now considers her close to his heart. This influence was much more passive on her end, as her own curiosity in terms of magic has reignited Robin's love of learning. He wants to be someone she can depend on, and be better. Side note: Bel actually finds Noelle VERY charming, it knows she won't harm Robin and has decided that she's worth protecting to keep its food happy.
Something more recent in terms of interactions falls to Lee SIn (@ionianelder), where Robin's fears and lies for himself have just melted away. Where Akio and Noelle fall into friends, equals and even students of magic, Lee Sin falls into a category that Robin has desperately needed since he was younger; a mentor. His memories of other figures like this are jumbled at best and lost at worst, but Lee Sin is one of the first to truly connect with him emotionally and tell him, from the heart, that he will be okay and get through this torment. Robin sort of...broke when he met Lee, granted he was already on his way to the edge of the plateau but the monk really pushed him over the edge and now he's hanging on desperately--when in reality he needs to just...let go. Lee Sin, although it hasn't happened yet, is going to really help Robin drop the past pain he's carried with him. It'll be a very good change, Robin may even learn to forgive himself.
Another one, man this is really never ending Robin stop meeting people, is Sett...Oh Sett, angry, traumatized, pained Sett (@pitgritted). This interaction definitely takes place a bit more in the future once Robin has left his burrow and is ready to speak with people again, and he found himself working as the chief medical staff for the pit fighters. This is another case of "he can practice healing magic for its original intended purpose" and has become a mentor figure to the younger, less experienced staff members. Not only this but his actual connection to Sett himself is an immensely interesting study into how people suffer the consequences of causing trauma, not just experiencing it themselves. Jojo and I have spoken in length about how they both have toxic qualities that bleed into their everyday lives, but they are trying so hard to dampen the harshness of these affects. Sett who can't use physical intimidation on Robin, and Robin who can't use emotional manipulation on Sett--because they do genuinely care for the other and don't want to scare/hurt them. There is, well, a certain peace I think that they feel with eachother--there is no antipathy for what the other has done, no need to "fix" the other, after all what hypocrisy would that be? It is an equally terrifying and comforting feeling to see a reflected inversion of yourself within another person, to want to be there for them but also knowing that they are acutely aware of your shortcomings because they, too, experience them. Robin has remarked, not outloud of course, that Sett's heart is fragile, I'm not sure Sett would ever be able to defend that from Robin; how could he when he sees the same fragility within the mage? They're very sweet. It'll be a very confounding, yet satisfying, arc in their lives, I'm sure.
In another timeline, something I call the bad ending (where Robin does heal but ends up falling into bad habits again), he actually has a quite captivating relationship with Jhin (@curtain-cxll). This also takes place moreso in the future, but where Robin has stayed in his burrow and has not abandoned it yet. Although the thread is just taking its first steps, Raven and I have plotted that it will fall into a game of cat and mouse that is intellectually stimulating for both Jhin and Robin. And also...something else happened by accident. Once again these two do not try to "fix" one another, but rather nurture what life has molded them into. From their first meeting there was a strange predilection that invaded both of them, I honestly think this is what made them want to burrow inside of the other one--its rare to find someone you instantly spark with (romantically or otherwise). Jhin really allows Robin to open up in terms of accepting the darker parts of himself, a part of him he will never fully get rid of, a specific toxicity Jhin can play off of, he just...accepts this part of him, and continues to encourage Robin's interests and it is shockingly quite sweet. This isn't to say Jhin is immune either, how he has craved someone who will not mock his ideas and actually listen to what he has to say, he is still human after all--and holds all of the insecurities of one. Even though the beginning is majority manipulation, Robin's reverence and appreciation of Jhin's thoughts is just intoxicating. "It isnt time yet, after all, I'd prefer my performance to be a duet." has me by the throat, the one person that has ever valued him in the same light that he values them. As art, as beauty despite all of his faults. Hell we've even discussed them living and traveling together. It's very much crafted around the poem of "Life and Death are lovers", and as a mun I really wasn't expecting to plot such a...weirdly pleasant story about self love with these two, both souls lost in solitude finding solace in one another. With a lot of murder on the side, of course. Side note: Bel and Jhin actually get along quite well too--it's very very funny to me. Bel legit gives him advice--best wingman. The demon will eventually also decide to protect Jhin as a way to keep its food safe--lord have mercy upon Runeterra.
MODERN VERSE
Oh Miss Evelynn (@agonizedembrace) do you even know how much you've shifted the course of his life? Modern verse is a...weird one, I originally wasn't planning on having Robin be a reincarnation but it led to so much deliciousness I can't imagine it any other way. For Evelynn, this is the second time their souls have met, but now she truly understands what it means to care and even love, and what she was not able to recognize within the long ago past. As such, when she meets Robin again, she makes the rather emotional instantaneous decision to pseudo-adopt him into KDA and her other nefarious activities. She wants to keep him safe, perhaps due to past guilt of not being able to save his life before, and actively funds not only his life, but is emotionally invested in him, even if he doesn't remember her. Robin's family is still alive in this verse, and he can't deny that Evelynn has become part of his family within his own heart, he adores her and considers her one of his closest friends, despite the fact that she is his boss. He feels an exceptional depth of emotion towards her that he cannot explain, perhaps he will never be able to explain why he trusts her so much, why he knows almost instantly that he loves her, and that she, despite not showing it, loves him. I think this relationship captures the essence of how love transcends time and never truly leaves our souls, it is like a stain--impossible to scrub away no matter how roughly we scrub and bleach and try to erase. It is apart of us-- forever, even if we did not categorize it as love at the time, and affects us from that moment onward. Their interactions in Modern verse show what could have been if life had been kinder, if they had understood how to feel properly when they first met, a second chance to embrace and love and cry and feel so much more than they ever thought possible within their own lives. I think they are two souls that will continue to find eachother over and over again, they are sure to follow one another...maybe even after the sun burns out.
There are certain relationships that just...help one shed the stresses of life and expectations, and Robin finds that relaxation within Danny (@bells-of-black-sunday). In this timeline Robin has less so fallen into a dark pit, and moreso walked into it willingly, and this allows him to fall for someone who is by no means a good person--but makes him laugh and smile and is healthy for him. In all verses, but specifically Modern, Robin is stressed out beyond belief, he is constantly working, constantly trying to be the best WITHIN his work, and has a very difficult time accepting himself as he is. He's a very lonely mind often plagued with delusions of imposter syndrome and never feeling very good about himself--and Danny has this uncanny ability to just make him feel at ease and help wipe that all away. Perhaps it is his casual nature, his ability to just...speak how he feels and be honest with Robin about things, but coming home feels like letting 50lbs off of his shoulders. He can enjoy a quiet, simple little life with his boyfriend who, unknowingly, erases the thoughts of "never being enough" by confirming and showing how much he loves him, as he is, and that he actively wants him in his life. They know what the other does, what evil deeds they perform, and openly communicate that it doesn't matter--their desire for the other doesn't have an expiration date. Danny shows Robin how to enjoy life's simple pleasures, and Robin returns that in the affection Danny craves. Their communication methods have also influenced Robin immensely, he doesn't have to worry about arguing with Danny or being imperfect, since they tackle disagreements as a team. It's really healthy for Robin, and has taught him a lot of self love.
PRE-DEATH ROBIN: ACADEMIA DAYS
I've left this one for last because where it is heading is still a huge coin toss and it is exceedingly exciting to divert from Robin's pre-established canon. While the thread is also in its baby steps, I already know that Viktor, Silco, and Jinx (@misstantabismuses) are going to steer Robin's storyline in a completely different direction than was previously explored. It's a blank slate with a version of Robin that hasn't full let himself descend into wickedness. I've often stated that Robin just needed one person to walk beside him in his darkest hours, and maybe he would have actually healed when he needed to, and Abel is pushing him to open up to Viktor. He feels comfortable around the surgeon, and wants to bond with him since he does admire him quite a bit. Who knows if this will be good for him? Who knows if he won't follow the Machine Herald down into Zaun's depths? How will this jump into darkness be different? I can't help but feel that Viktor's own empathy for people will rub off on Robin, he may fall into using "good" magic way sooner than anticipated. I'm rubbing my evil little fly hands in anticipation. Silco and Jinx will most likely affect him in a negative way, although I can't say for certain because there's so much to explore. It's been revealed that Robin has an accidental saviour complex towards Jinx as well since he sees himself in her, so that's a whole other can of worms to dive into and explore. While not much has happened in terms of threads, I KNOW this is going to drastically influence him in this timeline, and man oh man is it going to be a FUN exploration since Miss T is exceptional at writing and plotting. A "what if" timeline that will probably end up affecting his timeline with specific parts.
If your muse wasn't mentioned here, and you want to know more about how they've affected Robin, feel free to drop into my inbox and ask! I had to forcibly stop myself from writing more since this was already getting exceptionally long, LOL. He has had MANY interactions and it would be impossible to list them all here, so feel free to pop in if you want more info!
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onelungmcclung · 1 month
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MotA pt nine:
(writing this up for the sake of completionism but it may... be a little too critical for some people's liking. maybe skip it if you loved it.)
you introduce three new characters in episode 8? and then do nothing with them? all that focus on the tuskegee airmen and for what
I'm not surprised the planned escape didn't go according to plan, but... why set it up like it would be the focus of this episode?
why does nobody ever take into account the other POWs from the 100th? (buck and bucky don't mention them when deciding to escape; crosby and rosie don't ask after them)
no scenes of the other POWs post-liberation?
no revelations about capt westgate and what she's been up to, not even if she made it out alive?
no answer to the question "does kidd ever look happy"?
no meatball?
only six (6) biographies in the end credits?
I'm fine with sprawling meandering narratives but you do have to bring it all together eventually. to that end, every character still involved in the story should be included to some extent. (e.g. you could use your montages to better effect. I'm not that interested in the east anglia locals. show me capt westgate, show me the belgian resistance, show me the tuskegee airmen.)
I do not think you can efficaciously combine a Main Character style narrative (egan, cleven, crosby and rosie as POV characters) with a sprawling meandering narrative. pick one.
I assumed that the Main Character device was chosen to make the story more coherent (even if it was not a creative choice I would have personally made) but it... didn't
similarly I never thought egan and cleven worked as the narrative focus but I figured there was a good reason for it. now I think I was right. (I probably would have given them skip/muck levels of prominence rather than winters/nixon levels; I do not think all their screentime was justified and it was never clear why they were the "indisputed leaders of the 100th".) I like rosie but not giving over half an episode to his r&r; I like crosby but not his narration. like robert hutton, "I generally think if you're narrating, you've failed".
it has the uncomfortable feeling of a story that covers many interesting stories within it but does none of them justice. if the story of the 100th bomb group can't be told well in 9 episodes, find a different piece of war history. I don't feel the writers were uninvested, but they could not keep all these balls in the air.
I suspect this episode may originally have been two episodes (one more focused on the POW camp, the final episode more based around homecoming) condensed into one for budgetary reasons. I like to think alex, macon and daniels would otherwise have got more to do.
budgetary reasons may also be why they sorta skipped over D-Day (specifically, combat scenes) despite building up to it in previous episodes
I do think better editing would have helped the show overall
the combat scenes were generally good but the strategy was not clear, leading to another uncomfortable feeling that maybe the RAF toffs were right actually
like the "bombers as bait" thing revealed in episode 7... that seemed to be setting up some terrifying suspenseful missions but I don't think we really got to see them?
I do have favourite characters! just possibly not ones I was meant to have
hope the young largely unknown supporting actors get some good roles in the near future (I knew quite a few of them from other things, so naturally I'm faintly protective of them. go forth!)
I will read miller's book sometime. (I wanted to judge the series on its own merits and not know any of the pilots' fates beforehand, but that may have come with tradeoffs. anyway, will read it.)
to be as blunt as I will get: messing up a miniseries based on a book seems quite a feat. I didn't expect to have no criticisms, but I expected it to be cohesive.
might gif some supporting character darlings. might not get around to it (... most of my edits were made in lockdown)
I will try not to say any more unkind things about it in the future, this is my vent post
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Good day! I had a couple of questions for you, no need to feel pressured to answer if they don't apply ^~^. I've recently run into an issue while writing and I'm looking for advice.
Do you have beta readers? If so, how do you handle the ones that try to take over your writing? I.E. They try to bully you into writing in a different voice, they assume to know more than you about the story and try to tell you how characters act, or tell you that you're writing your own plot wrong- including any foreshadowing bits or lack thereof (for plot reasons, of course). And finally, how do you handle the ones that act like their your friend only to steal major elements of your story because "I can do it better than you"? (Or conversely accused you of stealing from them just because something you did was apparently really close to something they did?) I ask it in this manner bc I've had whole character arcs I've spent years crafting be copy-pasted by other writers who I thought were my friends. I'm talking beat-for-beat the exact same arc I had planned, just with their character.
Thank you for your time!
Omg, I'm so sorry for the delay in responding to this. These are really good questions, and I really had to think about my answer to the second part for a good while.
I do have beta readers. I've mentioned this a few times, but my main wip is ending-centered, meaning I can't re-use the same beta readers for many aspects of the story I'm working on, because previous beta readers' perspective of the story and characters should be fundamentally different from those of new beta readers (ie. knowing the ending should radically change your perspective and experience of the story when you read it a second time). Therefore, to get "unbiased" feedback, I need new beta readers for every version. All in all, I've had about a dozen beta readers over the years for Life in Black and White, for every version of the manuscript since the first (2013; no one reads my drafts, other than snippets).
In my opinion, beta readers, and/or a critique group/critique partners, are absolutely crucial to the process of getting a book ready for publication (whatever publication looks like for you, whether that's self-pub, indie, or trying your hand at tradpub like I am). I can say with absolute certainty that my novel would not be as good as it is now without the outside perspectives and commentary that I get from my beta readers, and I honestly believe this is the case for most long-form works (and many shorter works as well). No matter how intricate your vision for your story is, epecially for a story as complex as a novel, you're just not going to be able to see all the angles and pick up on all the tweaks that could really make your story better yourself. Good beta readers come armed with relevant knowledge (eg. they might have pro editing experience, or personal experience with an aspect of your story that you've had to research), tips, and most importantly, a different perspective than yours. They'll often be able to pick up on things that don't work in your story better than you can, because you're attached and invested. They might notice things that should be worded or framed differently. They might interpret something wildly differently than what you intend, or make suggestions for things you can do to condense your story or present it differently. They can tell you if something is predictable when it needs to not be.
At this stage, my beta readers receive very specific questions from me at various stages of the story. Their answers help me fine-tune different aspects that, based on previous feedback, still need some work. For the first version of the manuscript, I had larger/more vague questions and was really looking for mainly general feedback. Conversely, my beta readers for the final version will be specifically chosen for a purpose (eg. specific knowledge or experience they have) and will include at least one sensitivity reader and one professional beta reader.
So those are my general thoughts on beta readers and having them. Now, to address your specific questions:
Once you've had multiple beta readers, I feel like you really come to learn to do this automatically, but you have to kind of take and leave feedback based on what you know works for your story and characters. Beta readers are vital, but at the end of the day, you're the author, and no one knows your story like you do. You absolutely don't have to take a suggestion from a beta reader if you disagree with it. However, when I get a suggestion I don't like, I always ask myself why I don't like it. If it's not because it fundamentally wouldn't fit the character(s) in question or the plot/structure of the story, I will usually at least consider the suggestion unless I just straight up don't like the idea. Sometimes, you initially won't like a comment or suggestion because it stings a little to hear, lol, or challenges something you feel strongly about or are emotionally attached. But here's the thing: would it ultimately make the story better? In situations like this, I usually just sit with the suggestion a while, and most of the time, I end up using it. There are aspects of my story that I'm absolutely unwilling to compromise on, but these are few: it's good to know these in advance, especially if you plan to query. There are a few things about my story I wouldn't change even for representation or a book deal. In general, it's good to be open-minded about these things, and having honest beta readers will usually help you in that regard. I am much better at taking criticism about my work now than before I had beta readers, for instance.
Re: stealing parts of your story, I hope you know that's completely unacceptable - from anyone, but especially from a "friend." For me, that would be an instant cut-off situation. It doesn't solve your problem, though, and unfortunately, not much will unless you have your stuff copyrighted, so I'm really sorry to hear you're in that situation. This is part of why I really recommend exercising caution when selecting beta readers. My beta readers have, with only one exception, always been people I know in real life - either friends or other writers/members of a critique group. I don't actually recommend only having either of those as beta readers (friends especially will not be unbiased readers, though I've had many friends provide me with EXCELLENT feedback), but it's really scary to hand the product of your blood, sweat and tears over to someone you don't know well. Personally, for readers who aren't people I trust, I'm budgeting to hire professionals. This isn't an option for everyone, obviously, but that's my approach. Theft is unfortunately a risk we take when having beta readers or even doing book swaps - I personally feel the benefits usually outweigh the risks because most people will not do this, but it really sucks when they do, especially when it's someone you trusted. If anyone else reading this has tips for anon on this situation, please be my guest!
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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years
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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 37
Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.
Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren
(Master post)
(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)
(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 300 notes on tumblr)
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Simularé looked out over the city from the top of the school.  Using her replicated powers, she took the form of Volpina so they'd be able to alter the illusion quickly should something pop out and accidentally reveal the true form of the school. Thankfully the sentimonster didn’t need to do much in order to maintain the illusion; Paris was a surprisingly quiet city.
As far as they could tell, no one in the city outside of the school had any idea what was going on. And that worked out perfectly for them.
“So, this is where Lila has you stationed,” a voice called out, resulting in the faux fox turning around. The figure behind them was a woman clad in dark blue, with blue skin and a feathery fan. She looked confident and the sentimonster instinctively felt that this individual was very much aware of what it was.
Mayura had quickly deduced it was the sentimonster as it was in Lila’s previous akuma form, Volpina. With Lila now Masquerade, it was unlikely she would choose to take such a form. She would likely want to stay in her new form to show it off.
“Do not be alarmed, Simularé, it is your creator. Mayura,” Mayura spoke again.
The shapeshifter leveled a sharp glare at the woman. What made her so certain of that?
“How do I know that is true?” Simularé questioned.
The villainess took a moment to examine the sentimonster. Mayura had to admit that this sentimonster was her finest work to date. The amount of emotion harnessed from Lila to create it made it far more unique, much less of a mindless creature than her previous creations. Amoks were created much like akuma were, locking on to intense emotions before sending off. But unlike akuma, amok can be shaped and tailored with enough focus. Simularé was a special case, as it was made from the conclave of emotions that Lila was experiencing during her breakdown. It had been quite difficult to focus on one specific feeling but Mayura had pushed through. Simularé was sculpted to be Lila’s ideal ally, but it was also so much more than a simple asset. This Amok embodied Lila’s core personality. Her cleverness, her cunning, her mistrust of others, her playfulness, her pride and so much more. To put it simply, this Sentimonster was Lila’s spirit given a new form.
“Trust me Simularé, you would be best not to ask that,” Mayura warned.
The sentimonster felt as if it was being talked down to and clearly did not approve of anyone talking to them in such a tone, save for its master. It charged at the peacock villainess, ready to make contact, But, before it could get close, Mayura stuck out her hand and pinched her fingers together, causing the sentimonster to feel as if some force was pulling its essence out. The pain it felt was indescribable! It felt as if its very being was being ripped out. Mayura was in range to sense the Amok and could easily remove it without difficulty, much like Hawkmoth could with an akuma. Though Mayura had a feeling that letting the Sentimonster know that keeping her out of range of the item was the key to its survival would not be wise. It was best in this moment to display power.
“Stop! Please!” Simularé begged. “I … I believe you! I will do whatever you ask, just please stop the pain!”
The villainess smiled, it seemed there was even more to this Sentimonster than Mayura had anticipated. It had a powerful sense of self preservation, something controlled sentimonsters didn’t seem to have. She took note of that.
“Good. Now, you are going to explain to me your master’s end goal and where Ladybug and Chat Noir are in the building.”
Simularé felt the grip that Mayura had on its essence and held back its burning resentment towards the blue bird villainess. She would behave. For now.
“Okay… I will tell you everything.”
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“Duck!” Ladyice called out as she had Ice Noir lower their bodies to avoid oncoming ice projectiles.
“Surprising that she's only attacking us with ice. She's Stormy weather. You'd think she would be attacking with more, maybe some rain or like a vol....” Ice Noir commented.
“Don't talk about that! Do not give her any ideas!”
The two had skated out of the room and made their way through the now icy hallway while Stormy Weather gave chase.
“I was just saying it seems weird how...mediocre her attacks are.
“It’s like we saw before, the akuma servants are like robots, they can’t react quickly so changing up her powers is likely just as much of a problem. She's probably not as dangerous as we initially thought.”
“So maybe we should face this problem head on now that we aren’t cornered?”
Ice Noir changed direction and began skating towards the umbrella-wielding akuma.
Stormy Weather noticed the approaching cat and raised her umbrella, creating a mighty gale to blow him back and ending him flying past Ladyice to the end of the hallway.
“She can use her other powers… can confirm,” Ice noir commented as he got off the wall, still dazed.
Ladyice skated up to the dazed cat and helped stabilize him. Despite seeming like a wasted effort, the cat’s brash antics actually inspired Ladyice with a way to take her out.
“I just figured out how we can stop her, think you can give her one last charge for me?”
“Why Bugaboo, asking me to rush headfirst into danger? How heartless.” He feigned hurt.
Ladybug rolled her eyes.
“Silly Kitty. Just be ready to hang in there when she blasts you with wind. Don’t get blown back this time.”
“Got it.”
Ice Noir quickly skated across the ice as he drew his weapon. He was ready for her this time.
“Hey breezy weezy! The weather today was supposed to be sunny with a 20% chance of raining Cats and Dogs!” Ice Noir called out, clearly happy with his lame joke.
Stormy Weather saw the cat approaching once again and prepared to send another wind blast at him.
But the cat was prepared this time around and extended his staff to anchor himself to the walls on either side.
“Nice try!” Ice Noir snarked. “But a small little puff of wind won't blow me back again.”
The storm akuma decided instead of creating just another wind blast, she was going to step it up with a cyclone attack! A powerful tornado tunnel would surely blast the cat down for good.
“We were wrong! She can amp up the power too!” Ice Noir exclaimed as he held onto his staff with all his might while his body was being blown back by the massive winds. “This was not well thought out!”
He focused on digging his claws into his staff and doing his best to remain in the wind tunnel. The powerful winds blew into his face and he could see Stormy Weather slowly approaching.
“I don’t think I can hold on much longer, Ladyice!”
He felt his grip slipping. Any second now, he was going to get blown back.
“Don’t worry, Kitty. I got this.”
Stormy Weather didn’t get a chance to react when she felt something tackle her full force and rush her into the wall on the opposite end of the hallway.
The wind died down and Ice Noir was able to land on his skates. He released his grip on his staff and fixed his windblown hair to resemble its original state before quickly skating down the hall to help his partner.
“Nice job, Ladyice.”
The red-clad heroine stood up from her grapple with the storm akuma.
“Actually…”
Ice Noir looked up to see that his partner had shifted power ups. Her skates and ice skater aesthetic were replaced with a suit that had red spacesuit-like plating, a jetpack with retractable wings with red and light blue colors that matches her helmet.
She had changed into her space form, Cosmobug.
“Space power up! Because you can fly through the wind! Genius!”
Cosmobug smiled.
“Well, Stormy Weather is dazed but probably not for long.”
The two heroes noticed her about to grab her umbrella, but Chat Noir’s cat-like reflexes helped him snatch it first.
“Oh no you don’t!”
Ice Noir broke the umbrella over his knee.
“I don’t think she will be as mobile without her powers.”
Stormy Weather tried to stand but slipped on the icy floor she had created.
“Let’s just make our way to the boss,” Cosmobug said. She used the jet on her back to swoop up Ice Noir and fly slowly down the icy hall.
“Just like you to sweep me off my feet. But don’t think I will be a smitten kitten like usual.”
“Oh? Is that so?” The bug heroine raised an eyebrow. “It’s hard to imagine that you haven’t been dreaming about this scenario.”
“It helps that you aren’t riding a horse with the wind blowing in your hair,” Chat Noir joked back, catching Ladybug’s teasing.
Cosmobug quickly moved them to a part of the hall where there was no ice. Both undid their potion transformations, reverting back to their usual hero forms.
“Not keeping the jetpack?” Chat Noir asked. “It is really cool.”
“The room halls are pretty limited, and there's not much mobility, otherwise I might have,” Ladybug confessed.
The two heroes took a moment to catch their breaths and figure out their surroundings.
“We should thank Stormy Weather.”
The cat looked at his partner skeptically, remembering how a few minutes ago, the wind had nearly sent him flying through a brick wall.
“What makes you say that?”
“Lila probably had Stormy Weather out and about to flush out other people in the school and make sure the area was difficult to traverse. She likely sent out a bunch of other akuma to do the same, which means her forces are scattered and we have a better shot of dealing with her with fewer obstacles.”
Chat Noir nodded. He would not have deduced such a thing from one encounter with a weather akuma.
“Good to know, so the plan is to locate her and save the day.”
“No need to figure out where she is, I already have a good idea where she should be.”
Chat Noir noticed Ladybug had already started moving. He quickly followed behind, though he didn’t need an explanation this time. He already knew where Ladybug was heading — to his homeroom class, but he couldn’t say that without revealing what he knew.
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‘This was a ridiculous decision.’
That was the thought running through Chloé’s mind as she ran for her life from a large group of Reflekta clones.
The two or three she had run into early were easy to avoid, but now it seemed like a horde of those tacky clones. And all of the ice that surrounded certain hallways made it impossible to traverse. She was limited in her running space and she was running out. But what made it all worse was that now those Reflekta copies had adjusted to running.
“HOW CAN YOU RUN IN THOSE HEELS!?” Chloé screamed as she ran down the hall.
She just had to try and be a hero. Why was she even doing this? The assistant probably got turned into one of those gross clones or got masked like those other students. She could have just sat back and just waited for Ladybug and Chat noir to find her or let them handle it.
“You can’t run forever” The crowd of clones sang in Rather impressive and creepy harmony.
Chloé took a turn down the hall and went into the door of the nearest room.
She closed the door and locked it before smelling the musty wet air.
“What the… EWW!” She spat in disgust as she realized she had locked herself in a janitor’s closet.
“Why did it have to be in such a gross smelly room?” she moaned.
Unfortunately, her comments caught the attention of the crowd chasing her.
She heard banging on the door.
“You can’t hide, we will find.”
Chloe put her back to the door to keep them out and felt herself slide down it in despair.
Was this how it was going to end? Getting turned into one of those fashion nightmares after hiding out in such a rank smelling closet? She didn’t even save… wait. She did save someone. She saved that old man. It hadn't been glamorous, but she did manage to save at least one person.
“I guess I did do something good after all. May not have been exceptional… but it was something.” Chloé smiled for a brief moment.
She took a moment to look at the positives, Ladybug and Chat Noir would likely come in and save the day, plus there were those other two heroes. Perhaps that would be enough. But she had to admit, finding solace in that was getting harder to do when the smell of the closet was destroying her nostrils. Just then, she remembered she had some nice perfume in her bag that she could spray to alleviate the smell.
“Well, at least I won’t smell awful when they capture me.”
She put her hand in her bag and felt around for her perfume. As she searched, she felt an unfamiliar object in her designer handbag. She pulled it out.
“What is this?”
She noticed a note on top of it. It was a bit dark to read so she pulled out her phone and turned on her flashlight.
“Return to Ladybug after mission?”
Chloé’s eyes went wide. Could this be what she thought it was? How was it possible? She didn’t have time to question it.
She opened the box and out came a floating bee creature, who Chloé recognized right away. It was real.
“Pollen!” Chloé exclaimed with cheer.
“It has been a while, my queen.” the bee kwami said.
Chloé would have loved to revel in this moment more but she knew that door was going to burst open any minute. She needed to be the bee heroine.
“As much as I would love to talk more, we need to hurry. We have some akuma clones that need bashing.”
“Right away, my queen!”
Chloe put the bee miraculous in her hair.
“Pollen, Buzz on!”
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“It is a good thing there are so many copies,” Ryuuko stated as she leaped over a few Reflekta copies.
Viperion swerved and dodged the replicas of his sister’s akumatized form while avoiding getting caught in the bubbles that froze them and floated them up in the air.
Deadzone had been doing a lot of friendly fire thanks to its single minded obsession.
“After this, I really hope I never have to see my sister take this form again,” Viperion commented.
“Right, Adrien mentioned that you were Juleka’s brother. Older brother, right?”
“Older twin brother. But yes.”
“Really? You seem older.”
“I am a grade ahead of her, but we are the same age,” he explained.
“Could have sworn you were at least a year or two older.”
“A lot of people think the same thing. Even my mom forgets, sometimes. Rose, my sister’s girlfriend, says I radiate ‘big brother energy’ or something.”
“You learn something new.”
“What about you? Any siblings?”
“Sadly no. I was an only child.”
“Too bad, I think you would have made a great older sister,” Viperion encouraged
“A snake charmer, are we?”
“Well I am the snake, and I am not charming myself, so I think the more correct term would be dragon charmer.”
“Change that to fun killer because you killed my fun right there.”
Before Viperion could retort, they had made their way down to the end of the hall and noticed that it was frozen off.
“Dead end,” they say at the same time.
“No, Deadzone.”
The two turn to see the deadly akuma amalgamation pointing its blaster at them.
The two heroes looked at the deadly akuma.
“Any ideas?” Ryuuko questioned.
“Just one.”
Viperion moved his hand to his bracelet.
“Second chance!” Viperion activated his power.
“Now we have some options.” Viperion explained.
The akuma fired a bubble blast at Ryuuko, and she was frozen.
“Second chance!”
Things reset to how they were a few seconds before. Viperion grabbed Ryuuko and pulled her out of the way of the oncoming bubble blast.
“Thanks. For a minute there, I thought that thing had me.”
“It did, but I used my power to stop that. we still have to get out of here.”
“Look out!”
Ryuuko got hit with another bubble as they got up, protecting him from an attack.
“This might take a few attempts…”
_____________________________________________________________
Hawkmoth paced inside his lair.
Mayura was out there, his son was out there… and things were not going the way he planned. Masquerade seems to be building a base for herself and was more concerned with that than getting the miraculous. Adrien is MIA, and Mayura isn’t responding.
“I might need to step in. But there is a lot of risk in this. Far too many variables that I can't account for”
Hawkmoth never liked leaving his lair. It had too many risks to it. After Heroes' Day, he had nearly been exposed. And after that fiasco in Shanghai he didn’t want to risk getting taken out by his own akuma. He had already taken plenty of risks that had blown up in his face. Would this be another one of those times he would need to risk his miraculous?
“But it could also be just what is needed to beat Ladybug and Chat Noir once and for all.”
With an akuma this powerful, the two would likely have to use their special powers multiple times. If he can just locate them and wait for them to do so, he could potentially gain the advantage. Maybe Mayura was on to something with her actions.
Hawkmoth walked to the window.
“There will be a right time. I just need to wait for it.”
He felt an itch in the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was but he could tell one thing, something big was going to go down, and he needed to figure out the right call soon or it could cost him dearly.
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“…And that’s her plan.” Simularé finished. “As for Ladybug and Chat Noir… I am unsure. I lost track of them before I was given a new assignment. But they are in the building and they have not tried to leave.”
Mayura smiled at the information. While it was quite unfortunate that she didn’t have the exact location of the two heroes, it was good to know that they were still in the building, and Lila’s plan was certainly something interesting.
“Indeed, that is quite a clever plan. Ensuring everyone in the school couldn’t escape was pretty smart. You likely had a few escapes anyway, with how clumsy some of the akuma were. You are fortunate that neither one was Ladybug or Chat Noir. Still, though, it isn’t your master’s fault for that. They are basically mindless puppets. But then again, it seems that there might be zero escapes since there seems to be no new reports on the subject of a school takeover.”
Simularé let the peacock villainess muse, analyzing her movements as if trying to figure out any advantage it could handle.
“So, the next step now that all communications are cut is to send out a message that Ladybug and Chat Noir have already been defeated, so as to cause massive despair in order to create even more minions. Sounds a bit derivative, don’t you think?” Mayura mused.
Simularé said nothing. It held its tongue. Deep down, it knew that starting any dispute with this peacock was not wise. Especially given that crazy power she had over their being.
“Still, it is quite a plan. And with all those extra akuma recruited and Ladybug and Chat noir cut off from their guardian, they wouldn’t be able to get any sort of back up. They wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight before all of Paris is under Masquerade’s thumb. I approve of the plan.”
“I am glad you do,” Simularé stated with a forced smile.
Their conversation was cut short when an akuma appeared. Seeing one it did not recognize, the artist akuma prepared to fight. But thankfully the shapeshifting sentimonster stepped in.
“Stand down Evillustrator, this one is not our enemy,” Simularé ordered.
Evillustrator eased and walked over.
“Masquerade has ordered that we start reinforcing the building. She wants this place to be like a fortress,” he parroted.
Mayura looked at the artist.
A fortress? Yes, Simularé mentioned that Masquerade wanted to reinforce the school so that she could ensure Ladybug and ChatNoir would have less chance of escape.
Simularé nodded at the akuma servant.
“Alright, so she wants us to drop the illusion, then?”
“She wants the place to be like a fortress.”
“Go ahead and start,” Simularé motioned. She figured that her master likely didn’t care about the illusion much as she was prepared for stage two. But she would maintain it for a bit.
The akuma moved to the end of the roof and begins working to reinforce the walls
Mayura began moving to the door of the roof to get back down into the school.
“Tell your boss I will be heading to her, and she best be welcoming,” Mayura ordered.
“As you command,” Simularé replied, hiding a large amount of anger and resentment towards the blue bird.
As soon as the blue peacock is out of sight.
Simularé contacts its master.
“Simularé, what is going on? Did Evilustrator reach you?”
“Yes. He is working to make this place a fortress. You want me to maintain the illusion, right?”
“I am about to go public shortly. After I make the announcement. Drop the illusion and make sure this place is a full-on fortress. After that is done, report back to me.
“Yes master. By the way, I had an idea.”
“Oh?”
Simularé smiled sinisterly. She was going to show Peacock why she was sorely mistaken.
“I will report the details to you shortly.”
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“Everything is set up,” Robostus noted.
“Excellent. Let’s do it now.”
The Reflekta camera crew was all set, and Gamer had set it up so the moment they went live, every screen in Paris would show Masquerade.
Masquerade got off her call with Simularé. Something seemed a bit off with her sentimonster but she was intrigued that she had a plan.
“We are live in 5….4…3….2…” the gamer stated before pressing the go live button.
Masquerade smiled.
“Good afternoon, citizens of Paris. You may not know who I am, but don’t worry! You will be very familiar with me very soon. I am Masquerade, and I have decided to make Paris my personal kingdom.”
She paused to let that sink in.
“Now you are likely very alarmed by this declaration and that is normal. It will only be a matter of time before I spread my influence to everyone in Paris.”
She paused to let her words hang in the air before continuing.
“Do not be afraid, I am no monster. I plan on being a fair leader. All I ask is for your undying admiration and absolute loyalty. After that, you are free to live your lives as you normally would. Do not resist and you will have no problems. However, if you do… well, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Masquerade took a calm breath before finishing.
“This last message goes out to the heroes of Paris, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know you are here, I know you believe you will stop me, and I know you have allies here. But you will fall to me. Your days of superheroing have come to an end, your miraculous will be taken from you, and I will expose you as the failures you are,” Masquerade finished with venom.
She ended the transmission.
“Now make sure that it is being looped,” she ordered.
“Already is,” Gamer confirmed. “And panic is starting to rise.”
Masquerade smiled. Her plan was already working.
It may have seemed like a simple ego boost, but that speech of hers was a crucial part of her plan. Her charm bracelet could hyper focus on anyone that was akumatized in the past and have their biggest insecurities exposed. But that one by one process took far too long, if the hope of the entire populace of Paris was already demoralized. Then all she needed to do was send out her masks and let them take hold. And all she needed to do was go out there and send the masks.
She could already feel massive amounts of negative emotion from outside of the school. As soon as she headed out of the school, she could easily go and get more akuma soldiers. She could feel her bracelet trembling with all the potential additions.
She was prepared to leave, activating one of the charms to give her black angel wings, but something she remembered caused her to stop.
“Simularé I am moving to phase two of my plan. Get down here.”
It only took a few seconds for the sentimonster to jump from the roof and knock on the window.
One for the Reflekta copies opened the large window to let in what appeared to be Dark Cupid, before it shifted into the phantasm form that was its base.
“Right on cue. So, what is this plan you wanted to suggest?” Masquerade inquired. “And be sure it is not a waste of my time.”
“What if I told you I could get you a Miraculous?”
The sentimonster could feel that Masquerade was very pleased with that idea.
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37 attempts.
It took thirty-seven resets before Viperion figured out what they needed to do.
“Ryuuko, follow my directions exactly,” Viperion instructed. “I know how to win.”
He quickly pulled her towards him to make sure she dodged the first bubble.
The akuma was surprised by the avoidance.
Viperion smiled.
“Your next line is, ‘How did you know I was going to blast at her?'” Viperion stated confidently.
“How did you know I was going to blast at her?” Deadzone parroted in shock before realizing they had said exactly what Viperion had said they would say.
The dragon heroine looked at the determined expression of the snake. She could see experience and certainty in his posture. All her years of fencing taught Kagami the art of reading body language, and the hero in front of her was someone that exuded an aura of confidence. She knew she could trust him.
“Alright, Sassy Snake, I will let you take the reins.” Ryuuko responded.
“Jump to the left in 2 seconds and start running.”
Ryuuko followed the instructions and sure enough avoided yet another bubble attack from Deadzone.
“Head to their left and bounce off the locker at the end.”
Ryuuko dashed past the akuma and jumped as Viperion instructed, perfectly avoiding the barrage of blasts sent her way. Viperion had perfectly mirrored her motion as he explained the next steps.
“Now somersault twice and draw your sword.”
Ryuuko somersaulted as Viperion leaped over her and the dragon turned to draw her sword, now on the other side of the hall.
“Now as soon as it fires a bubble at you, activate your wind! No matter what! I believe in you Ryuuko.”
The last words seemed a bit strange to the fencer. What did he mean by that?
“Will you shut up!?” Deadzone shouted before sending a bubble at Viperion.
“For my final glimpse into the future, you will say, ‘Not so tough now are ya?'”
The bubble contacted Viperion.
“Viperion!” Ryuuko cried out.
The bubble enveloped the snake and floated to the ceiling, taking his frozen form along with it.
“No…” Ryuuko muttered. She looked down in sorrow.
I failed to protect him. He ended up protecting me. He had been backing me up to make sure I wouldn’t do anything reckless.
Ryuuko felt her mind flashback to a few days ago which now seemed almost like it happened a year ago. They had made such a good team back then and now… they get a chance to be heroes again and she couldn’t cover him like he did her.
“Ha, not so tough now are ya?” Deadzone stated with confidence.
Ryuuko’s ears perked up at the statement. That was the line Viperion predicted they would say. That means… Viperion knew this would happen! Which meant his previous statement was to show he planned this. She knew what to do.
Deadzone turned its attention to Ryuuko.
“Don’t worry, you will join him shortly.”
Deadzone fired another bubble right at her, but this time Ryuuko wasn’t moving. She was at the perfect distance to do what she needed to do.
Ryuuko smiled.
“Wind dragon!”
The dragon-themed heroine turned into a cloud and blew the bubble right back at the akuma.
“What!”
The bubble encapsulated the akuma, causing it to freeze in place and then float to the ceiling.
Ryuuko returned to her original form and smiled, seeing how they had finally incapacitated the akuma.
“We did it, Viperion. We took them down. I'm sorry it cost you so much… I won't let you down!”
She raised her blade, upon realizing that her partner was indeed trapped in a bubble.
“Wait a minute…”
Ryuuko walked underneath Viperion’s bubble. She wasn’t entirely sure if this would work, since akuma magic was weird and often unpredictable, but it would make a lot of sense if it did.
“It is a bubble, so this should work right?” Ryuuko questioned as she used the tip of her sword to touch the bubble. She pushed it forward a bit causing the bubble to pop.
Her partner dropped to the floor.
“Ugh… my head.”
“You’re okay!”
Ryuuko hugged her friend, but then realized her sudden action and quickly jumped back up. A bit flustered, she could swear Marinette was rubbing off on her.
“I am glad you are alright, friend. You had me concerned — slightly,” Ryuuko corrected herself.
Viperion was surprised by the quick motions but managed to steady himself.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. But make it quick, we will need to get a move on.”
“Okay… Who am I?”
Ryuuko froze at the question. She could see the confusion on his face. He was completely serious.
“Oh… that is not good at all.”
_____________________________________________________________
Masquerade is on phase two of her plan and Simularé is starting to make waves.
Who will get to the akuma first, Mayura or our heroes.
What will happen to Viperion now that his memory is gone?
Will Queen bee be the right choice?
Reblog and Comment . Your support is invaluable in keeping this fic alive. And I love hearing your thoughts on it
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Hey hope you're well can i request something for jigen daisuke with a s/o who isn't a theif and lets him and lupin spend the night at their house after an unsuccessful heist? Hope that was specific :)
Sure thing, anon! (This took me too long :’) hopefully you enjoy this 3.5k fic of shambles) 📻
Night Time Drop-In
Pairing: Jigen Daisuke x Reader
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The late hours of the night offered a peace and solitude that differed from other times. You often found yourself up, despite the negative toll it took on your sleep schedule, occupying your time with a variety of things. Sometimes you would scroll online for hours at a time, waving away boredom with videos of your interests or with articles or other things. Other times, you would indulge yourself into hobbies you had (sometimes trying out other things, adopting or dropping it depending if it was a good fit for you). And sometimes, you would just stare out the window, gazing out towards the city you resided in, taking in the night scene.
This was one of those nights.
A sigh passed through your lips, a visible puff of air presenting itself from the condensation within the air. It was far too cold to have a window open, but the faint sound of sirens beckoned you forward with no concern for the chilliness.
Sirens were as common as they came, and while hearing one meant something was about to go down, you couldn’t help but feel a twitch of hope fill you upon hearing it. For every time you heard one, there was a possibility you’d see your love again. A slim chance, yes, but a chance nonetheless.
The screech of car tires and a call of nearing sirens caught your attention. You leaned out your window for a better look, and from the light of a streetlight you saw a yellow car round the corner and hightail it up your street. A smile spread on your lips at the sight of the yellow car. The fiat 500 classic was recognizable for you just at a glance, and as it passed the streetlight in front of your home you caught a glimpse of the inhabitants inside the fiat 500. Two men sat in the driver and passenger seats; one of them, the one your eyes settled on in the split second of the streetlight, donned a hat that hid half his face.
You couldn’t help but feel giddy.
You turned your head to watch the yellow fiat speed down the street before turning into an alleyway. Your head whipped back to the corner, where a couple police cars had just started to turn the corner and speed through the street. The police cars and the sirens quickly faded. A couple minutes passed, and your gaze would flicker over to the alleyway, in hopes that the fiat would return into view, or that the fiat’s inhibitors would come into view.
It only occured to you then of the breath you were holding. You exhaled, feeling the chilly air tingle the inside of your throat as you breathed in. The fiat’s appearance was a welcoming one, since it had been a while since you last saw it. So seeing it now really took your breath away.
The stir of an ongoing-engine pulled your eyes to the alleyway again. A study rise in your heartbeat grew until you swore it could leap out of your chest, and at the worst possible second you heard the rumbling engine cut off. The smile that had been on your lips faltered.
Did he leave? The thought nipped at you, but you shook your head in dismissal. No, of course not. He wouldn’t just leave after appearing. Jigen isn’t like that. The goosebumps running up your arms became apparent to you, and you rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself. You couldn’t bear the thought of him coming to the city and leaving without saying hello.
Them being in the city.. did they plan a heist here? Was it successful?
Two familiar figures approached from the shadows of the alleyway, and when the light’s end made them recognizable to you a wave of exhilaration washed over you. In a flurry you left the window and made your way over to the door, slipping on some slippers as you hurried out the door. After a brisk walk down the hall and descending the flight of stairs down to the ground floor, your footsteps echoing through the hall, you hurried to the main doors that led into the apartment building. Through the window you spied the two men nearing the apartment, and when opening the door the cold air bit at your skin. But you couldn’t spare a moment to curse out the temperature; happiness pinched you, seeing the two men on the other side of the door.
The gentleman thief Arsène Lupin iii, and the gunman of the show, and your love, Daisuke Jigen.
“Jigen, Lupin- it’s been a while,” you said, your smile unwavering.
“It sure has,” Jigen says. A smile of his own peeked from the shadow cast on his face by his hat, and as you studied his face you noticed some grime on his cheek and over his nose, and on the front of his dress shirt. This made you raise an eyebrow.
“Couldn’t agree more,” Lupin piped up, his usual grin ever present. A once-over of the gentleman thief showed you he had grime smeared on him and his clothes too.
Two usually-tidy men with grime smeared on them and their clothes. An odd sight, to you. Before you could ask, a sheepish smile swapped Lupin’s previous grin while Jigen pulled the front of his hat lower as he glanced away. “Excuse the dirt,” Lupin says, waving off the look you had. “Mind letting us in?”
You nodded, beckoning them inside and closing the door behind them once they came in. You studied them for a moment, looking for blood or injuries. They looked fine, but she couldn’t be too sure. “Are you guys okay? Any injuries? Bullet wounds?” It’s been a bit since you had to patch one or all of them up. You kept the medic kit updated for whenever they’d visit, and after a couple of them she had gotten some more-qualified tools to help with taking care of injuries.
“Just a sore back,” Jigen says.
“Other than that, we’re perfectly fine,” Lupin said. “We were pretty lucky to get out unscathed. They shot at the fiat though-” he lets out a sigh, reaching up and rubbing at his head as he glanced away. “God, I don’t even know how many times I’ve had to replace the windows and other parts. We don’t always have money lying around to replace what other people destroy!”
“Lucky indeed, and a drag,” Jigen pipes up.
You hummed in response, nodding. “With the fiat in the condition it’s in though, is it safe to leave it unattended?”
“It’ll be fine,” Lupin said, dismissing your concern. “Besides, the only thing probably worth stealing from it is car parts, but the folks around here don’t mess with stuff that’s not theirs, right? So it’ll be okay.”
“If you say so,” you mumbled. You noticed the dirty footsteps the two men tracked in, your nose scrunching up in revulsion. You were going to have to mop the floor in your apartment sometime later, probably. “Your tracking dirt in. You guys can use my shower to clean up.”
Jigen turned his sole up to check at her mention, a ‘sorry’ coming from him. He opened the door, letting the chilly air in as he scraped his soles on the ground to get rid of the dirt. Lupin, on the other hand, jumped at the offer to use your shower.
“How kind of you!” he said, not noticing his tone becoming loud.
“Hush! You’ll wake up the neighbors,” you hissed at Lupin. Lupin chortled before making his way to the stairs, leaving you and Jigen behind a couple feet. You glared at the floor as Lupin walked off, his dirty shoes tracking filth on the hallway, before you turned away to look at Jigen, who came in again and closed the door behind him. With his partner’s back turned Jigen pecked your cheek hastily, saying he was glad to see you again. You beamed up at him, taking his hand and squeezing it before tugging him with you to catch up to Lupin. Jigen’s affection usually came in private, when it was just the two of you, but sometimes he’d sneak a peck (and you would too) when no one else was looking. Those were some of your favorite moments; alas, they were few, as you both would go months without seeing one another due to his adventures with his friends and being on the run from the law. While you would be lonely and yearn for him, you were able to keep yourself busy to avoid the thinking and longing, with the times Jigen would appear being spent with you together. Sometimes he’d be with you for a couple days (a week, if you were lucky), but most times it’d be a night before he had to leave.
“How've you been since I was gone?” Jigen asked. As you two got up the stairs, you heard Lupin call to you guys in a whispered tone to hurry up. “We’re coming, we’re coming, jeez, Lupin.”
“I’ve been keeping myself busy,” you replied to his question. You then shrugged a little, before adding, “If I have to admit, it’s been a little lonely.”
Jigen chuckled, his free hand adjusting the brim of his hat as his eye peaked out from underneath. You adored seeing his eyes, even if Jigen said they were nothing special. “It’s a good thing I’m here, then.”
You nodded in agreement, a soft giggle leaving you.
You reached the floor your apartment was on, and saw Lupin standing where your door was, leaning against it and tapping his shoe against the floor in an impatient manner. “And where are you on a rush to?” you ask.
“I’m just taking you up on your offer for using your shower is all,” Lupin says. You roll your eyes as you waved him away.
“The door’s open,” you tell him. “Don’t make a mess.”
“You got it!” Lupin calls behind him as he hurries into the apartment after opening the door.
“Don’t yell!” you hissed again, before groaning upon realizing he left the door wide open. “And don’t keep the door open-”
“Don’t take all the hot water,” Jigen calls after him, this time tugging you with him into your apartment. Lupin didn’t respond; only a jolly hum coming from the bathroom as you heard the shower turn on. You closed the door once getting inside, watching as Jigen knocked on the bathroom door, telling Lupin to not take a long time.
“Stop worrying, Jigen!” Lupin called over. “Just go snuggle with (y/n) while you wait!”
“God, the neighbors are gonna wake up if you don’t shut up,” you said. You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “The last thing I want is to have the police called because I’m harbouring criminals.” They would consider you an accomplice. That wouldn’t be good- you were no thief, just a regular citizen of the law. If anything, due to your relationship with Jigen, an affiliate would be more accurate. That was your only crime- except maybe for that one time you went fifteen miles over the speed limit to try and get to work, already being a half hour late.
“Sorry about ‘im,” you heard Jigen say. He moved over to you, and you wrapped your arms around him in a hug and rested your head against his chest. You didn’t care if you got dirty from the dirt on his clothes; you missed the closeness between the two of you. Jigen’s arms soon found their place around your waist in a cozy embrace, a satisfied hum leaving him. “I missed you so much.” His words came out in a soft whisper.
You smiled softly. “I missed you so much, too,” you whispered in return. You squeezed him in your embrace before loosening an arm around him to cup the side of his face. Some of the grime on his face caught your eye; you rubbed your thumb over a small patch of it, Jigen squinting his eye while your thumb became grime-coated. “How on earth did you and Lupin get so much grime on you? It looks like you rolled in the dirt, for pete’s sake,” you said jokingly. From your angle, you had a good look of his face, being able to see the features his hat brim’s shadow casted on him.
“That’s not too far off,” Jigen admits. An unbridled feeling of euphoria burst in you as Jigen leaned into your hand, the smile he was wearing gentle. He releases an arm and rests his hand atop yours, his gaze shirking away from yours as his smile twitched a little. “You know that museum about five, eight minutes from here? With that famous alexandrite gemstone necklace?”
You cocked your head to the side in curiosity, nodding. You knew what he was talking about, having heard that the expensive piece would be displayed for a limited time at the museum that week. “I know what you’re talking about- the necklace just got showcased today.” You guys stole it, you figured. They were thieves, afterall, so this wasn’t news to you. It did explain their unexpected arrival though.
“Yeah, well..” Jigen let out a sigh, his hand slipping from yours to scratch his cheek. “The heist didn’t go as we thought. Somehow we looked over another security system the museum had, and the police got there before we could even snatch the necklace.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded your head in understanding. “What a waste, too-” Jigen mumbled, his hand propping on top of his hat before pushing it down to hide part of his face. “We got inside, didn’t get caught by security, almost got to the alexandrite necklace-”
“Hey now,” you interjected, cutting him off. You hated it when Jigen talked like this. Sure, sometimes their heists didn’t go as planned (either from Fujiko, the police, or some other force, you’ve heard enough stories from Jigen and his friends), but all they could do was try again next time or turn their sights to a different prize. With a softened gaze you kissed Jigen's bearded chin, causing him to look back at you. "You tried your best, and that's all there is to it," you state simply. Jigen was still for a moment before nodding his head. "If you need to, you two can stay here for a couple days to reassess the new security they'll probably have up. And Goemon is welcome to stay here too, if he likes."
"All three of us?" Jigen asked, surprised. "You're a really good host, but don't you think three of us would be hard to handle?"
"Just don't break anything or get the cops called here, and I think we'll all do just fine," you assured him. Then, teasingly, you add, “Besides, don’t you have faith in me?”
A chuckle came from the man you embraced. “I do, I do. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The running water from the bathroom shut off, telling you Lupin was finished. “That won’t be a problem,” you tell Jigen. You lean up and kiss him, feeling him smile against your lips before pulling away. “I’ll get the couch ready for Lupin,” you say.
Jigen hums in reply, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead before saying, “Alright.” A giggle escaped you as his beard tickled your skin, followed by another as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You turned your head and kissed him just below his lips, and felt Jigen’s chest rumble as he chuckled.
Just as Jigen leaned down to kiss you once more the bathroom door opened, revealing Lupin in the doorway with a white tank top and a pair of striped boxers. He was smiling, unashamedly staring at your and Jigen’s affectionate display. Jigen’s stop-mid-kiss had his cheek pressed against yours and both your heads turned to face Lupin, which only looked to amuse him more.
“Oh? Was I interrupting something?” he asked, feigning an innocent act. “My, my- what a sight, seeing Jigen all affectionate with his darling.”
“You’re always interrupting,” Jigen grumbled, scowling at his friend. “Go pick up your clothes- it’s my turn to use the shower.”
“Okay, okay- yeesh.”
As Lupin turned to pick up his dirtied garments, Jigen mumbled something to himself about ‘bad timing,’ kissing your cheek once more before pulling away. “Do you need to take a shower at all?” he asked. You shook your head, saying you already took one hours ago. Jigen nods, humming in reply before asking, “Did I leave some clothes here from last time I visited?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I kept them in the bottom drawer.” You took his hand and showed him to your bedroom, pointing to said drawer of your dresser before going to find some blankets to make a makeshift bed for Lupin. In a matter of minutes Jigen was in the bathroom taking his shower while you helped Lupin. Lupin’s clothes were getting washed in the washer, and once those were done you would have Jigen put his clothes in to get washed. You asked Lupin if he was comfortable, receiving a nod from him.
“Yep, I’ll be sleeping like a baby tonight!” Lupin replied cheerily from his spot on the couch. You sat in the arm chair beside the end of the couch, waiting for Jigen to finish up so they could retire for the rest of the night.
It’s already morning hours, you thought to yourself, checking the time on the wall clock. We’ll all be sleeping into the afternoon, probably. And I guess Goemon won’t be turning up soon- maybe he’s staying at a hotel for the night, or something. You turned to look over at Lupin, seeing him study the living room with a drowsy face. A lit cigarette hung from his lips before he pulled it out and held it between his fingers. “Hey, Lupin.” He turned his attention to you. ���I told Jigen that you two and Goemon are welcome to stay a couple days if you need to. Depending on how much the museum ups their security because  of your heist tonight, you’ll have to figure out a way around it. Your fiat isn’t in the best condition, either, so getting it repaired before you leave would be wise.”
“You’re not wrong- the security will definitely be heightened, and my car isn’t in the best condition. But, ‘welcome to stay?’” Lupin repeats, his face matching Jigen’s when she told him they could stay. He breaks into a smile. “Gee, I never expected that, but thank you, really. Y’know, I’m glad Jigen found a gal like you; he’s still a big grump sometimes, but I know he gets really happy whenever he gets to see you.”
A fuzzy feeling warmed you at hearing Lupin’s words, nodding in response. You found it endearing, how Lupin was in regards to Jigen and your relationship; he was happy for you and him. ‘Especially since things were looking to turn around for Jigen,’ Lupin would say.
“You’re not thinking of anything all sappy, are you, (y/n)?” Lupin asked, interjecting your thoughts. You shook your head ‘no,’ although the smile you failed to bite back was apparent to the monkey-man. “You totally are! Probably something about Jigen’s smile, or me looking out for the guy, or about Jigen being-”
“You better watch yourself, Lupin. I can kick you out if I need to.”
“I’m done,” you heard Jigen say from the doorway. You turned over onto your side, smiling to him and beckoning him to get into the bed. He complied, first setting his old clothes on the small table at the end of your bed with his hat on top of the pile, before climbing into the bed and joining you beneath the covers. You set the book you’d been reading on your bedside table before turning over again and facing Jigen. You couldn’t resist a grin when seeing Jigen in his nightgown and cap, despite the weird look he gave you. "What's the face for? You've seen me wear this."
“I know, I know," you say, humming softly. You felt Jigen's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and his warmth. You curled your arms in a loose hold around him in return, your fingers rubbing soft circles and lines into his back while he fiddled with the ends of your hair.
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, your breathing matching his own. You leaned into Jigen, tilting your head up to admire him. His eyes were closed and face was relaxed, and the soft rise and fall of his chest dozed you toward sleep. A small smile graced your lips as you tucked your head into his chest. “I love you,” you whispered to him.
A squeeze from Jigen in your embrace came as your response. “I love you, too,” followed thereafter.
127 notes · View notes
soonhoonsol · 3 years
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Welcome to soonhoonsol’s gif tutorial!
As a nice anon asked me how I make my gifs, I thought it’d be cool to create an in-depth tutorial :) Perhaps this can help some others enter the gif-ing world too!
What we’ll be using for this tutorial:
Software: Bandicam, Avisynth, Photoshop CC 2018, Topaz Labs
File Format: .mp4
Operating System: Windows
Disclaimer: This is just my method. Every gif maker works differently and has different preferences. What works for me may not work for you, and that’s completely okay!
Let’s get into it!
1. Find the best quality video you can find
This really depends on the content you want to gif. For variety shows, music videos or photoshoots, any video of [1080p] should be sufficient. Try not to use anything below 720p.
For stage performances, fancams tend to have higher resolutions [1440p, 4k]. Use these if your computer can handle it. If not, usually 1080p works fine. The best option would be to download .ts files, which provide clearer and less grainy videos.
For Seventeen, you can get .ts files from The Rosebay on Twitter :)
2. Screen recording
As a Windows user, I don’t have a built-in screen recorder on my laptop. So, I use Bandicam, which is a free screen recording software. The only con to it is that it has a watermark.
To combat the watermark, I always have the boundary box a little bigger than the video itself so that I can crop it out of the gif.
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This is what the recording would look like:
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Just record the scene(s) that you want to gif so your video file doesn’t end up too large! Your recording should be in .mp4 format.
(You may use pure .ts files in Avisynth but it never worked well for me so I usually screen record the .ts video and move on)
You can find your recorded videos in Documents > Bandicam.
3. Avisynth
I followed THIS tutorial to download Avisynth. This software is really helpful if you want sharp and clear gifs! I recommend to follow the steps in the tutorial as the below method stems from it.
- Once you have downloaded it, open up your recorded video from Step 2 and watch it. Take note of the duration you want to gif. (e.g. from 00:01 to 00:05)
- Drag your video file into normalwebrange.bat. On Windows, you can find this in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video. For other .bat files, you may check out THIS tutorial.
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- In the pop-up box, key in the start time for your gif (e.g. 00:00:01). It has to be in hh:mm:ss format. Press “enter”.
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- Key in the end timing and press “enter” again. A resizer should pop up in an Internet Browser. I found that Firefox works best for me.
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- In the resizer, you may indicate the size of the gif you’d like to make. You can also click and drag the video to resize and frame it to your liking. You may refer to THIS post for Tumblr dashboard sizing.
(These are some common gif sizes for stage performances):
1 gif - 540px by 540px (square)
2 gifs - 268px by 350px
3 gifs - 177/178px by 250px
- Under “Preprocessor”, select “debilinear” for the second box. For the first box, you may pick between qtgmc 30 (same frame rate as video) or qtgmc 60 (doubles the frame rate; smoother).
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- You will also see “fast” or “slow” options. These are just how long the video will take to render. “Fast” will give you slightly lower quality as compared to “slow”, but usually is good enough.
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(You can see that his features are sharper and more defined in the “slow” gif as compared to the “fast” one.)
- Copy the code in the white box. Navigate to the scripting window (it should have popped up with the resizer) and paste the code at line 17. Type a “#” before qtgmc on the same line. This will prevent the software from lagging.
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- Click on the inverted triangle at the bottom of the screen. Your video will now appear in the scripting window. Drag the slider to the intended starting point of your gif and press the “home” key on your keyboard.
- Drag the slider again to the intended ending point of your gif and press the “end” key on your keyboard. This blue area you see is the duration of your gif.
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- On an empty line (I usually go to line 8), place your cursor there and click “Apply” in the mini pop-up window. Afterwards, remove the “#” from line 17.
- Go to File > Save or press Ctrl + S to save the code. Close the scripting window. The video renderer will pop up. When it’s done, it will automatically close by itself.
4. Using Photoshop and Topaz
I’m using my school license for Photoshop 2018, but if you don’t have that, there are plenty of cracked versions for free. I don’t have any to recommend though so I’m sorry about that :(
I followed THIS video tutorial to download Topaz plug-ins for free. I use Topaz DeNoise (the most helpful) and Clean, but you may use others if you’d like :)
Alright, let’s dive in to the steps!
- Open up Photoshop and go to File > Import > Video Frames to Layers.
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- A pop-up will appear. You can find your deinterlaced Avisynth video in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video > temp > video.avi. Follow the settings in the picture and click “OK”.
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- Go to Window > Timeline to open up the timeline. You should be able to see your gif spread out in frames. If you press the play button, it should play like a video.
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- (Quick optional step I learned from THIS tutorial) Go to Image > Canvas and set the Resample option to “Bicubic (smooth gradients)”.)
- Select the first frame of your gif in the timeline. Shift select the last frame. Go to Window > Layers. Shift select these layers as well.
- With everything selected, click the 3 lines at the top right corner of the timeline. Select “Convert to Video Timeline”.
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- At the top of the screen, select Filter > Convert for Smart Filters. Your layers will condense into one layer. Don’t worry, your gif is fine.
- Now it’s time to sharpen the gifs. Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. Play around with the settings to your liking!
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- If you’ve downloaded Topaz correctly, it should appear under Filter > Topaz Labs. If a pop-up asks you for an activation key, you may use THESE to activate it for free.
- Go to Filter > Topaz Labs > DeNoise and/or Clean and play with the settings until you’re satisfied.
5. Blurring
If your gifs have captions/logos that are distracting, you’d want to blur them out. Don’t be like 2018 me that blurred out the logo frame by frame; it’s very tiring. Instead, using this method from @scoupsy‘s tutorial, you’ll save lots of time.
- In the Layers tab (Windows > Layers), select the “New Layer” icon. It should be blank.
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- Select the Brush tool. Make sure the “Hardness” setting is below 20%. This will blend the blurring nicely into the gif.
(For the sake of this tutorial, I will be blurring out the Bandicam logo to show you.)
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- Paint over the captions/logos. Make sure this is on the blank layer!
- Duplicate (Right Click > Duplicate) the gif layer and drag it so that it’s on top of the blank layer.
- Right click on the duplicate layer and select “Create Clipping Mask”.
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- Go to Filter > Blur > Gaussian Blur and play around with the settings until you’re satisfied with the level of blurring. Click “OK”.
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6. Flattening & Colouring
- Once you’re done with sharpening and/or blurring, click on the 3 lines on at the right corner of the video timeline and go to Convert Frames > Flatten Frames Into Clips.
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- Topaz layers and blurring will take some time to render so you can just chill for now~
- When it’s done rendering, click again on the 3 lines and go to Convert Frames > Make Frames From Clips.
- Convert it back to the gif timeline by clicking on the 3-box icon at the bottom left of the timeline.
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- Select the first frame of your gif. It must be the FIRST.
- Scroll to the top of the layers and select the layer at the top. Any other layers you add should be on top of this layer. VERY IMPORTANT!!
- In the Adjustments Tab (Window > Adjustments), there are many different things to play with. There’s a high chance you won’t use everything, but here’s a few of my favourites.
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Levels - Adjust the brightness and contrast of your gif in depth.
Hue/Saturation - Useful for changing colours, or switching it to black and white.
Color Balance - Tweak the colours to your liking.
Colour Lookup - Comes with built-in LUTs that you can use as a preset. Great starting point for colouring. Saves time too. You can even download plug-ins for this. 11/10 tool.
Selective Colour - Adjust the vibrancy of specific colours.
- Colouring is completely up to the gifmaker. Go crazy go stupid :D
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7. Exporting
We’re almost to the end!
- Set the timing for your gif.
If you used qtgmc30, the best timing would be 0.04s / 0.05s / 0.06s.
If you used qtgmc60, the best timing would be 0.02s / 0.03s / 0.04s.
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- Once you’re satisfied with everything, go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy).
- Follow the settings in the picture below:
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- Tumblr’s gif limit is 10mb per gif. Check the gif size at the bottom left of the pop-up window. Make sure it’s below 10mb; the smaller the better.
- Click “Save”. Choose where you’d like to save the gif.
- Done!
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And that’s it! You’ve successfully made a gif! Good job you :D
I hope this tutorial was helpful! Please leave some feedback if it helped, or if you have other methods you’d like to share :)
Lastly, if you have any questions, feel free to send in an ask or DM me!! :)
Good luck and happy gif-ing :’D
221 notes · View notes
loyally-unfaithful · 3 years
Text
—; it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas.
word count: 3.6k
pairing: razor/gn!reader; razor/traveler
genre: fluff
summary: « i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »
you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.
« oh. »
razor stares expectantly at you as you watch him make no further attempt to move. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, the banality of everything setting into your mind. or maybe you’re getting sleepy. you wonder: « do you know why, razor? »
a/n: secret santa secret santa secret santa anyway, this is my side of the secret santa gift for @absolutely-rational​—i chose to write a thing for razor, but i barely play the game and i haven’t met him or own him* or anything so i apologise if it’s a little ooc ,,,, merry christmas and happy holidays ^^
p.s. as the man who’s good at saying very little in way too many words, the length of this fic just exploded and it’s alot longer than what i wanted it to be dskljfsldkja
heads-up
i write dialogues in what i will call the french/european system? anyway, i see that it's not the dialogue formatting that most english readers are accustomed to so i modified it slightly to be easier to understand basically dialogues will be within guillemets (« »), and words that are within the quotation marks but are italicised are actions and/or dialogue verbs.
hope that clears things out a bit and i hope you give me and my fic a chance :)
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« weih… nachten…? »
he tilts his head slightly, not unlike a dog. what’s that? razor repeats your words slowly, tentatively, enunciating the foreign word with care. he wonders if the words sound strained coming from him. words are hard.
« that’s right! it’s a large festival in teyvat, and even more so in the city! you elaborated, sensing his confusion. here in mondstadt it’s called weihnachten and it’s supposed to be about, you know, spending time with friends and family, passing around gifts and presents to those you care about. »
you soon felt at ease as you continued: this world had its differences, but it had its similarities. it had its own equivalent of christmas. something that you know about. sure, maybe the origin is different, maybe it had different customs and traditions, but it was a comforting familiarity in the midst of everything that’s so staggeringly foreign. then again, you suppose that’s what drew you closer to the silver-haired boy: neither of you truly fit in, nor fully understood the strange world you happen to be in.
though at the very least, razor had his lupical. as bittersweet as it was, it warmed your heart to know that at least he had family to be around with during christmas, and well, around… in general.
« weihnachten. he says, this time with more conviction. how to celebrate? – well for starters, (where do you even begin?) we’d decorate our homes with all sorts of festive trinkets and we’d fill the streets with all sorts of sparkly things. garlands, lights, flowers, ribbons; decorations that’ll spruce up the place and make the city light up. it always made people cheer up and get in the holiday mood, especially at night when the fairy lights twinkle about! »
razor’s mouth moved in a silent gasp. then does that mean that those bright stars he liked so much were not stars, but rather lights? is that why they seemed to be brighter near the end of the year? the people from the city decorated, he considered. is that why the stars’ reflection, bouncing around in the lake, were an array of dazzling colours, from glittering red and shimmering green to captivating shade’s who’s name he doesn’t know?
« is why… sometimes stars explode? he wondered. – yup! though we don’t usually light up fireworks until new year’s. you wondered for a moment. do you like fireworks, razor? the silver-haired boy frowned, lost in thought, before shaking his head. – loud. scary. me and my lupical, we go hide. we don’t like… firework. »
you hummed in understanding. dogs have never been fond of fireworks and firecrackers either.
« fire is bad. why light firework? isn’t it big hassle? »
it reminded razor of the red, burny girl. fun person, friend! but the toys she uses are loud and dangerous, they create explosions and fire, just like fireworks.
« hmm, i guess… you pursed your lips in thought. good question. i guess that at this point we all just do it out of tradition. new year’s brings a lot of excitement, and people let it out by lighting them up. it’s also really pretty. »
the more he thought about it, and the more he learned about it, the less he understood the celebration. why? it’s loud and distracting. bright colours hurt eyes, doesn’t it? it’s time spent with your family, but razor is with his lupical everyday. do humans… not spend time with their lupical regularly? why is this specific day so special from the rest of the year? he doesn’t get all the funny dates and celebrations humans have to keep track of. seems like a big hassle. sounds complicated.
« no such thing as weihnachten in wolvendom, huh? »
he shook his head.
you tucked your finger under your chin, pondering, in slight puzzlement. back in your world, you would’ve been able to take pictures—maybe that would’ve helped him visualise it better—but you couldn’t here in teyvat. a sigh. anyway, it’s not like you had your camera on your person anymore, so you do your best to describe your happiest sensations, experiences, memories of christmas: the smell of hot cocoa on a cool winter morning, the crackle of firewood from the hearth, and the feeling of soft wool on your skin, hugging you from the biting cold. the merry and jovial carols sung by the star singers, the gleeful chattering between friends out on the street, and the boisterous cheering and partying coming from the many bars and restaurants in mondstadt. the comforting arias and prayers echoing from within the cathedral, the mouth-watering aroma and fragrance of treats from the christmas market, and the grand christmas tree placed at the heart of the city decorated with even more opulent and lavish garlands and baubles, the vivid glimmering lights reflected from your eyes.
describe the different little things that made christmas different and more special from the rest of the year.
somehow this time that you took to pay the wolf boy a visit was consumed by you rambling about the merry holiday, drivel that he listened to attentively and with a pure and honest kind of curiosity (even if he doesn’t always understand you) that you found endearing and made your heart flutter, until the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars adorning the city shined out, rivalling those peppering the night sky. until the howls from his family called him away from you, and until you motivated yourself to begin your trek back to mondstadt after sitting in the woods alone.
being with him was always a welcome distraction, you thought.
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december 25th.
paimon was dozing off after stuffing her face full of the dishes from the christmas banquet (good for her!), the cup of tea you had between your hands had gotten cold, and your breath was fogging the frosted window in front of your desk. you mindlessly traced a smiley face on condensation. you can see the ever changing colourful lights blinking through the glass pane. you take another gulp of the unpleasant liquid, unsatisfying as you feel it slowly go down your throat. the calming and comforting scent it brought (it was chamomile) having long dissipated.
sighing, you pulled your fingers off the cold china, deciding it wasn’t worth finishing, and quietly slipped out of your room (which was graciously granted to you by the knights of favonius), taking care to slot the chair back under the desk and gently close the door behind you. you wondered if taking a walk would help you feel better. you tightened your shawl around you and buried your freezing hands into your pockets. head down, you quickened your pace to… wherever your legs were taking you.
another sigh.
you smiled almost bitterly to how much of a grinch you were being. you liked christmas, or rather, you liked what it stood for, and you liked the idea of spending the winter months with your closed ones.
a few hours ago, the knights of favonius had organised a small christmas party at angel’s share, and though they had thoroughly reassured you that you belonged and were included in this celebration, you couldn’t help but keep to yourself and stick to a corner of the bar. you couldn’t bring yourself to join in on the fun, or talk to others. you didn’t feel like it was your place to force yourself into their conversation, into their lives. you were grateful that they thought about you, and you didn’t want to question their kindness, but… you nursed your glass of virgin cocktail, peeling your eyes away from your wonky reflection on the liquid.
you weren’t exactly at home: you looked at jean and barbara, happily exchanging jokes and teases. a relaxed sort of conversation, banter which flowed, almost as if it were rehearsed, in a way that was only possible between sisters. that night, the deaconess wasn’t smiling as if she was holding back tears. the carefree girl was speaking with jean (rather than the acting grand master) who allowed herself some respite from the demanding position.
you look at the uncharacteristic smile on the bartender’s (who happened to be none other than diluc that evening) face, and you doubted that kaeya, sharp-eyed as ever, missed it either. it was subtle. but it was there. you don’t miss the way the cavalry captain held back on his sarcastic remarks or the way diluc wasn’t being “deliberately uncivil” (as kaeya would put it) either; the way the red-head indulges kaeya’s seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol while the latter makes an effort to maintain a friendly, if curt, chatter.
a particularly loud giggle drew your gaze back at the two sisters: lisa seemed to have joined them. you sipped your beverage, half-hearted. the three seemed to have started a rather animate discussion. you hear them laugh again. it makes you frown, but you shake your head, pushing those angry thoughts out of your mind. just because you’re miserable (even though you shouldn’t be—your friends are with you) doesn’t mean they have to feel down with you.
setting your glass down on the table, you wondered if you would've felt better if you were with someone closer to your age, but amber had gone home early: she dropped by and hung out for a bit before going home to spend time with her family. your glass is empty now. you feel… envious. you wished you could spend this christmas season with your family. it’s not fair. it’s not fair.
your favonian family, and yet you were out of place.
you excused yourself early from the gathering, the other members politely bidding you farewell and a merry christmas (« frohe weichnachten! »), and quickly went up the path leading to the order’s headquarters, wanting to hide away in your room as soon as possible.
now, you stop before the lavish tree: it’s as grand and brilliant as it’s always been. but now it seems much too bright. the colours an eyesore. singing sounds more like knives being dug into your eardrums.
your head hurts.
a humourless chuckle escaped you. you used to take turns with your sibling on who got to slot in the christmas topper.
this year was their turn.
back then, your sibling made a point to hang gingerbread treats on the tree, and you made a point to eat them behind their back come christmas morning.
normally, you’d be sharing gifts with your sibling during this time of the year.
your entire life they’ve always been there by your side, and you by theirs. for better or for worse, you kept each other company. you’ve always spent christmas with them.
this was your first christmas without.
the rest of your thoughts are jumbled, incoherent. something your long term memory didn’t deem worthy of keeping, so they simply fizzled away. everything was a blur as your feet carried you outside the city, away from… it doesn't matter. just away. carried you away. happiest time of the year. but you’re here alone, with no one you know and to call home in a world you don’t recognise. far away from the land you once knew.
panting, you stopped in your tracks when you realised you’ve started sprinting. what were you doing, you chastised yourself. can’t you act a little more mature? finally lifting your gaze, you took in your surroundings; instinctively your feet must’ve taken you to wolvendom. you kicked a stray pebble under your boot. not like that afterthought was going to help much. it’s not like anyone was waiting for you here either, razor was probably with his lupical. hunting or snoozing away.
with little care, you let out an exasperated sigh as you let yourself plop ungracefully to the ground, listless.
you sit there in silence, nothing to accompany you except for the cacophonous ringing of crickets in the forest. you drew your knees closer to you. what were you doing here? it’s cold. you hear thistle crack, and so you defensively draw your sword as you rose to your feet, only to be met with a familiar mop of fluffy silver hair.
« it’s night. dangerous here. »
was his curt greeting. you lowered your sword, shoulders relaxing.
you opened your mouth, ready to apologise, make up some sort of excuse, let him know you’re leaving, when something else caught your eye: « you kept the scarf? »
he blinked. once, twice: « you gave it to me. he said, very matter-of-factly. you are my lupical. it is… treasure… razor paused, correcting himself. treasured, possession. »
having realised that the intruder was not dangerous, the wolf boy came closer and gently pressed his forehead against yours and nuzzled your face. a small laugh escaped you as you returned the affectionate gesture, something you’ve learned was his customary greeting. it was cold out, but his touch was enough to bring feeling back to your cold self and make you warm and fuzzy inside.
still resting your head on his, you asked, timidly: « is it ok if i stay here for a bit? » it came out as a whisper, unsure if you’re any better staying here rather than back in the city. but as he nodded in agreement, your shoulders loosened as you let go of tension you weren’t aware you were building up again. you slumped into him, burying your face into him and held him in a loose hug. razor, as for him, let himself be snuggled to your heart’s content, happy to receive such fondness.
« today is special day, isn’t it? » his blood-red eyes peered inquisitively back at you, arms wrapping around you as he tries to remain as close to you as physically possible.
« mhm. » you mumbled non-commitally into his shoulder, opting to pull yourself closer to him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
« not go celebrate in city? » razor asked, perplexed. he thought that you said this was a big celebration to be had around other people? despite his bemusement, he rested his chin on the top of your head. it makes him all warm and soft inside, the thought of you choosing to spend this special day with him of all people. it makes him happy. he hopes you’re happy too. the wold boy gives you a once-over and his brows creased in slight worry: you’re really quiet today. why?
« uh-uh. » you grunted, shaking your head against his shoulder, your hair brushing against his clothes. the chunky scarf you gave him, the one you were convinced he was going to throw out due to its garish colours, tickled your exposed skin. he kept it. you smiled, touched. he kept it. it still smelled faintly of fabric softener, but marked by the smell of pine trees and something sweet, something you associated with brewing thunderstorms. you’ve always found rain and thunder to be comforting.
being with razor comforts you.
he wasn’t much of a talker. you both knew this. silence is ok though. he’s happy to be with you. but razor wonders why you’re so quiet today. concern flashes through his mind and he turns your gaze upwards, making you face him. you can’t possibly imagine what pathetic expression you were pulling and you quickly try to cover your despondence—but it was a fruitless venture.
« you smell sad. he watched you, a worried look on his face. »
you scrambled for some explanation, reassuring him that it’s nothing. that you’re not being a downer. that you’re happy. but he’s decided: « wait here. »
knowing that there was no restraining him once he’s made up his mind, especially when it’s something to do with the ones he considered close to him, you reluctantly let razor peel you off of him. as you watch him scurry away, you find yourself dearly missing his warmth, the comfort and safety of his arms. was staying here a good idea? you wrapped your arms around yourself. maybe you should leave. you’re ruining the mood. you’re disturbing wolvendom’s peace. before you could finish that line of thought, the wolf boy returned, this time carrying a handful of… something with him.
they threatened to tumble out of his grasp, but ultimately stayed put as he returned to his original position and held them out into your general direction, showcasing whatever he had procured. in his hands were multiple plants which bore small scarlet berries and oval, evergreen leaves. a plant you immediately recognised.
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« i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »
you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.
« oh. »
razor stares expectantly at you as you watch him make no further attempt to move. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, the banality of everything setting into your mind. or maybe you’re getting sleepy. you wonder: « do you know why, razor? »
he blinked, clueless, before looking at the mistletoes in his hand with confusion, coming to the realisation that no, he didn’t actually know why it’s so important. it’s not edible. maybe because it’s pretty? the city has many red lights and white lights. some mistletoes are red and others are white?
he continues to stare at the berry, as if it would cave in and reveal its secrets to him if he sustained his efforts. taking his prolonged silence as his answer (though you had expected for him to not actually know—knowing lisa, she would’ve just offhandedly mentioned them. and when razor would’ve asked her about what they meant, she’d just smile without answering him), you filled him in, your voice filled with mirth: « people usually kiss underneath mistletoes. »
he turned his gaze back to you before voicing the conclusion he had come to: « this mean, i have to kiss you? »
you chuckled. « only if you want to. »
he looks at the plant, giving it a long hard look, then back at you.
it wasn’t much, it wasn’t spectacular. hell, it was more of a ghost of a kiss than anything. but you still smiled as his lips brushed on yours. a peck, which lasted too long yet not long enough. awkward, but endearing. your textbook first kiss, including the warm fluttery feeling of butterflies that so often preached about, if only a little more clumsy.
it’s cute.
he’s so genuine, earnest, in his endeavours. it makes your heart soar. he’s sweet. you don’t deserve this kindness but he gives them away without a second thought.
you don’t deserve to be happy during christmas, especially not when your sibling was still out there, alone and potentially afraid. maybe, no, it definitely is selfish for you to enjoy this day. pretend like everything is alright just for this one moment. that you’re not some traveler stuck in a strange and unknown world, that you’re not desperately trying to find your sibling and a way out. act carefree, and get to be you. but goddammit does he make you so so happy that your heart clenches and that you can’t help but smile from ear to ear. you deserve to be miserable today; you feel like shit, really. but you’re also really happy, and glad, and relieved, and maybe a little tired.
it’s all too much, and you feel so much at once that you just don’t know how to handle this anymore. overwhelmed. you smiled and laughed giddily as the waterworks started (despite your best efforts), and you’re a mess, and definitely a bit sleepy, but you’re stupidly happy today. stupidly happy because of him.
this alarmed the boy, watching you laugh between hiccups, sobbing despite wearing a large smile. for humans, tears are sad. smiles are happy. were you ok? he’s confused. did he do something wrong?
« why crying? » he fretted, slightly panicked. he jumped to fuss over you, wipe away your tears, gently cradling your face with a gentleness that you would’ve never thought he was capable of when you first met.
you laughed as you wiped your face. « these are happy tears. » you try to explain.
he’s your home. your lupical. someone you’re at rest with, and safe with. you love him.
your words get caught in your throat, unable to express everything you want to tell him. so instead, you engulf him in a hug. something he was caught off guard from, stiffening, but quickly relaxed and embraced you back. still a little unsure, he comforts and reassures you the only way he knows how: patting your head. when he’s down head pats makes him feel better. he hopes you’ll feel better.
« thank you. » you said softly, shakily, sniffling. thank you for being here. thank you for being you.
you’re not as alone as you thought, you never really were. together, in your own small corner of the world. your home: razor.
as you cuddled together, passing the time by naming and pointing at the celestial canvas above you, you realised: maybe this year, as unfortunate as it had been, didn’t have to end on a bad note. at some point, razor had shared his ridiculously large scarf with you, wrapping it around the both of you. and slowly, your words slowed, your breaths evened out. you pressed more of your weight against him as you felt your eyes droop. you’re safe. you’re with razor. you’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up he’ll be there. as drowsiness takes you over, you think to yourself ‘yeah, i’m happy.’
you’re happy here. in this one time, one place, with razor, you’re happy.
and you hope that wherever they are, your sibling is happy too. and that they’ll forgive you for being selfish, for being happy despite everything.
you hoped that your mirror image had someone to spend christmas with.
somewhere—someone they felt at rest with.
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Home Sweet Home: Moving Day
Summary- 3.1k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.   Home Sweet Home
Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​
Warnings- Not many that I can see. Mentions of murder and spooks. 
A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃
Chapter 1 / Masterlist 
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The day the family moves in, you couldn't have been more excited to be moving into your dream home. The home you and Andy would be raising the family in. The movers were quick under your and Andy’s directions of where to put boxes and furniture. Jacob managed to keep Cassidy and John occupied by exploring the yard and along the lakes edge until most of the chaos ended. 
Andy and you called them in once the movers left. When all three came back in, you took them on a tour of the house, going through the downstairs and then going on upstairs to show each one the bedrooms you and Andy had chosen. Andy took the boys to their rooms, dropping John off in his to check out, and then Andy opened a nearby door to Jacob's room. Jacob walked in, looking around. “Yup, looks like a bedroom.” he commented, sounding just like Andy in that moment. Andy stepped in, remarking at him. 
“Smartass... do you like it? Y/N thought this one would be better for you. It's a bit away from the kids, give you a bit more privacy you didn't have at the other house.” 
Jacob gave a smile to his father while nodding. “It's great dad, seriously.” he assured him, and Andy nodded. 
“Well I will leave you to unpack then.” 
In Cassidy’s room, she was excited over the unique windows facing the front, and she ran to the first one looking out over the driveway and the rest of the neighborhood. “Wow, I can see everything.” She started waving at people passing by on the street. 
“You really like it Sweetheart?” You asked, having picked this room just for her cause of the pink flowered wallpaper, and there was a small vanity already built into the wall. She nodded and giggled at the window. 
“Yes mommy, I do.” She went back to looking at the window, and you pulled open a box to start taking care of clothes when she started speaking again. “Hi, hello… what's your name?” She tilted her head with a nod and another giggle. “I’m Cassidy, see you later!” You had been working on putting clothes in the dresser from boxers when you heard her odd words. 
“Who are you talking to Baby?” You go over behind her and she looks up at you. 
“They said a friend, but they had to go.” She shrugged like it was no big deal and went to go open more boxes to help you unpack. You peek outside curiously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary when Andy saying your name turned you around. 
“Hmm, what?” 
“I said the boys both approve of the rooms you chose for them, and are currently putting their rooms together. I'm gonna go build our bed and then come take care of Cassidy’s.” 
Agreeing that was a good idea, the rest of the day was getting the basics together. By the time dinner rolled around, Andy had insisted on ordering a few pizzas and you agreed tiredly. Andy eased a hand over your shoulder and to the back of your neck, massaging gently while you let your head fall forward, breathing in deeply. “How about you take a shower? I will get dinner handled. By the time you come back down, it should be already.” 
“You really don't mind Andy?” You ask, and he gives a shake of the head, kissing your forehead he eased you towards the stairs. 
“Baby, I insist.” He winked at you, and you gave a nod while heading up the stairs. The allure of a hot shower and getting into your ultimate comfort clothes you already pulled out and were on the bed just sounded like the best thing you've ever heard. 
Grabbing your towels and a washcloth from a box, you wandered into the master bathroom. This was the first time you’ve had a bathroom all for just the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel like this was truly living. Soon the hot water was going, and you were stepping into the shower, humming happily to yourself. 
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Downstairs Andy had made the call for a few pizzas after googling for a local restaurant. He went to check on John and Cassidy to find that they had found a board game and were making up their own version. Jacob, he could hear music playing up in his room. You were in the shower and he would be taking one soon as everyone was fed and the little ones put in bed. All in all a good day he thought. Going back to the kitchen, he searched out for plates, and took care of a few more dishes. It wasn't long till the doorbell rang. “Coming.” Andy called out while checking to be sure he had his wallet on him for a tip to whomever was delivering that night. 
He opened the door to find a teenager warily standing on the bottom step, looking up at the house. Jumping a bit when he heard Andy open the door, he went up the stairs and held the boxes out. “Been a while since anyone has came out here.” 
Andy took the pizzas and set them just inside the door on a small table and then dug out his wallet to pull out a tip. “Oh yea, is that so?” Not really giving the kid’s words much thought, but he ended up continuing regardless of Andy’s uninterested tone. 
“Yea, last time anyone came out was before that night.” He took the tip, and pocketed it. “You know about the night, right?” 
Andy shuffled a bit, wanting to close the door. “Yes, we were made aware before we moved in.” 
The teenager just continued. “Yup, all five of them were in their beds. I knew Ronnie, he was a lot older than me, but he was cool. Can't believe he took a rifle and just shot them all. Guess you just never know what people are capable of.” 
Now Andy was done, and snapped out. “No I guess not. Bye.” Stepping back, he let the door shut firmly and flipped the lock, gathering the pizzas to take to the kitchen. What the kid said unsettled him. But he shook it off before addressing John and Cassidy. “Are you hungry, Kids?” 
A thud of feet sent Cassidy and John racing into the kitchen, and Andy simply sent a message from his phone to Jacob upstairs, knowing it would be faster than going up to knock on his door. Grabbing plates, Andy looked at the two littlest ones. 
“Okay kids, I got… anchovy and extra anchovy. What do you want.” He grinned innocently at them, and they both made funny faces at him in disgust. 
“Cheese?” John asked hopefully. Andy popped open the top, and showed off a cheese pizza. Peeling off a slice and plating it, Cassidy reached for the plate. 
“Andy, can you add an extra slice for Jody? They say they want a piece.” Cassidy hummed and Andy indulged her, putting on a second slice. 
“Who’s Jody Kiddo?” Andy questioned as he also handed over paper towels for napkins. 
“My friend. But you can't see them. They don’t like grownups although I told them you were nice.” She said as if it was everyday and John rolled his eyes at her 
“You're so weird Cass, Jody isn't real.”  John snickered as he reached for a piece and bit off the end while Andy handed a plate over to him to use.
“Is to! Jody says boys like you are mean.” Cassidy cried out and then the siblings stuck their tongues out at each other and Andy was quick to jump in. 
 “Hey hey hey, John don't pick on your sister. Cass, Please just tell Jody not to make a mess.”
Jacob came in the room, following his nose to the scent of pizza. “Who’s Jody?” 
Andy moved aside the cheese to the pizza with toppings underneath he knew Jacob would prefer. “Jody is Cass’s friend.” Cassidy took a bite of her pizza and gave Jacob a nod, and the teenager nodded in understanding. Picking out a slice of pepperoni. “Ya know, I had a friend like that.” 
“You did?” John asked, suddenly on board with the imaginary friends cause Jacob seemed okay with it. Andy went to find a couple wine glasses while listening to Jacob recall the story of his imaginary friend Stan the Man. Andy had to smile at the memory of Jacob and Stan the Man, his son had insisted he was taller then the house but could shrink down to his size in order to play. Laurie had been a bit concerned about how often Jacob had talked about him, but Andy wasn’t. Pulling out a bottle of wine, he opened it up and checked the time, figuring you would be down pretty soon.
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Upstairs you were finishing your shower, your head tilted back into the spray and fingers scrubbing out your conditioner when you happened to look towards the showers curtain and saw what looked like Andy standing there. “Andy? You trying to sneak in with me for a few minutes?” You rubbed the water from your face, expecting to hear an answer. 
“Andy?” You looked again and the shape moved like they were about to get in, but there still isn't an answer. 
“Are the kids okay? Andy?” you frowned and went to move the curtain, to open it and when you looked around it, there was nothing. No one was standing there, the door was still shut, and you could feel your heart race a bit. You suddenly didn't want to be there anymore when your chest tightened in discomfort, you knew you saw someone on the other side of the curtain, and was sure of it. A chill ran up your spine and you hurriedly rushed to turn the water off and get out. Drying off, you hurried off into the bedroom, completely missing the whisper of your name as well as a figure moving out of the fogged up mirror, leaving behind the word ‘Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em’ streaked through the condensation. 
Dressing, you made your way downstairs to see everyone Andy and Jacob laughing about something while picking at toppings of their pizza slices to pop in their mouth,  the kids sitting at the table, legs swinging as they peeled off bits of cheese. You approached to peek in the box, grabbing a piece of pepperoni, and Andy hugged you from behind, his beard tickling your neck as he hummed against your ear. 
“Feel better Mrs.Barber?” 
“I will feel better if there is a glass of wine with my name on it.” You chuckled and he was quick to hand you one. Sipping from it, you set it aside and turned in his arms, cupping his face in your hands. “Now I’m much better, thank you.” Tilting up you gave him an affectionate kiss, John and Cassidy making eww noises and Andy chuckled against your lips at them. 
“Man, we're trying to eat. Take it to your room.” Jacob joked from the other side of the counter, and Andy gave a smug look at his son. “We probably will later.” Jacobs scowl had you covering your mouth in a laugh and you finally reached for a slice of pizza, nipping at the tip.  
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Dinner was eaten, and after Jacob goes to his room, and the kids are in bed all tucked in, you go to the bedroom with wine glass in hand, Andy is stretched out on the bed to relax for the first time that day. You set your wine glass aside on the dresser, and go to work on hanging Andy’s suits in the closet before going to lay down, unsettled a bit as you look towards the bathroom. 
“Andy, you didn’t happen to come into the bathroom when I was in there, did you?” 
He looked up from his phone with a curious furrow to his brow. “No, I was downstairs with the kids the whole time. Why?” 
You shrug as you hang another suit up, coming out of the closet and picking up another. “I just thought I saw someone in the bathroom, and when I opened the curtain, nothing. I think I'm just over tired.” you admitted, and he opens his mouth to say something when your phone rings. You turn away to go back in the closet, and Andy stretches out to grab it off your side of the night stand. He doesn't bother to see who it is, but swipes his thumb across the answer button while keeping an eye on you. 
“Barber residence?” 
You are humming while fixing the suits so they don't wrinkle. 
“Of course, here she is.” He lowered the phone and “Y/N, it's your mom.” 
You brighten when you hear who it is, and flick off the light to the closet. You swear you hear a muffled growl behind you, and turn towards the sound with a frown when Andy gets your attention once more. “You have to tell her to stop gushing over me baby.” He winks teasing as he rolls up off the bed, and you scoff at him with a smack to his chest while taking the phone. Tumbling on the bed and getting comfy, you raise the phone to your ear. “Hey mom! Yes, we're all settled, kids are in bed, but you call tomorrow, you can skype with them. They would love to see you.” 
Andy feels a chill up his neck and he rubs at his arms, lowering to settle his hand over the heating grate. It feels like a heavy draft coming through and he glances up at you, mouthing. “You feel chilly babe?” 
You shake your head in a no while still listening to your mother. “Oh mom, you will love it. Plenty of room for you to come stay as well. Maybe at Christmas time? We have the most perfect family room for a good big family Christmas.” 
Andy heads out of the room while you're on the phone, sure the heater in the basement isn't turned on even though he knew that he had someone come in before to turn all of it on to get ready for them. Quick to go down to the first floor, he went into the kitchen and flicked on the basement light. 
The lights flickered several times like they were about to go out. Once it became steady, he went down the creaking stairs and rubbed his hand against his arms looking around the dimly lit basement. Basements always felt awkward. He knew there wouldn't be anything to be necessarily scared of, but they always seemed hidden away from sight, where secrets of the house might be kept. Even now when peering into the dark corners of the interior, he shivered in distrust of the shadows. 
Andy it's just a basement. He would scold himself as he crossed the icy cement floor, and tried to ignore what he thought was his imagination. 
A shadow shifted, darker than the shadows of normal for an old house. It stalked along behind the man. Andy went over to the heating system, a state of the art boiler system that was almost brand new, having been installed when the previous owners updated the house. 
Now Andy wasn't any expert in heaters, so when he squatted down, he looked along the switches, that all appeared to be in the on position, which he flicked anyways. He also leaned down to see the pilot light was still on, which it flickered reassuringly when he peeked. 
He leaned back up with a frown, and while he was sitting there on the cold basement floor, a bone chilling coldness stabbed him in the back, paralyzing his spine, and the hair on Andy's body bristled as he heard something shuffle behind him. His chest ached in a panic that made breathing  almost impossible. A dread settled on him, sunk from his shoulders and down through his body. 
This must be what a condemned man must feel like. 
His eyes squeezed shut and he fought to turn around. He had to turn around, see what was coming for him. Andy felt it come closer, the air around him freezing cold that he felt it burn with each breath that he inhaled and released. Could feel something hover near the back of his neck, like it was just about to reach out and snatch his life. Rational thought had gone into hiding, now was just the sudden fear for his soul, and he whipped around suddenly when he broke from it to see nothing. 
Absolutely nothing was behind him. 
Cursing as he gasped in relief, the memory of impending death turning into fear and scolding himself for being afraid of nothing, he pulled himself up off the floor to a stand. Andy’s heart was still racing as if it was going to crash out of his chest cavity, but he ignored it while he slammed the panel shut, and looked to see one of the heating ducts. Pressing his hand against it, a sudden hum came and a rush of warm air breezed against his palm. 
“Fucking finally” He growled, and started to make his way back upstairs, what Andy missed was the hissing from the duct work, barely audible. “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.” As he started up the stairs, he shivered again and a racking cough exploded from his chest out of nowhere. 
The shadow seemed to crouch further in its hiding place with a flash of red orbs before swirling away into nothingness. 
He continued coughing as he went up the stairs, weariness coming over him. When he went into the bedroom, You sat up with a teasing look on his face. “Get that heater running Andy?” 
Settling on the end of the bed, he started to peel off his shirt, and you scooted over, rubbing at his back while kissing the back of his neck. “Mmhh, yes I did Y/N. Can we not tonight Love?” He looked over his shoulder and smiled weakly. “Not feeling my best tonight.” 
You pulled back with understanding, and ran your hand down his back and nodded. “Of course Baby, long day.” 
Andy eased back and opened his arms for you to settle in. Your head went on his shoulder, and soon he coughed hard, pulling away from you to lay on his side. Frowning in worry, you settle into your spot and fall asleep.
Once he fell asleep, Andy did nothing but dream awful dreams all night. Dreams filled with him staring at you at the end of a rifle, finger on the trigger to ease it back with a click. Images of Jacob, John and Cassidy running away from him to race into bedrooms and slam the door shut on him. Something cackling from the walls, constantly whispering “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em” till Andy was trying to smother the sound under his palms. Waking with a jerk, he doubled over in the early morning light, coughing again and shivering in the cold.
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plaidbooks · 3 years
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Hi babes - a request that’s kind of specific- (readerxcarisi) this would take place in season 19, episode 8 where Rollins and Carisi are at the shitty motel and they have that moment. So the idea would be that reader is also a detective, maybe newer or something tagging along with them two and reader knows Carisi has a thing for Rollins and reader was with him when they saw the guy leaving Amanda’s room. Reader is there for him after and he realizes maybe he was chasing the wrong girl??
New Girl
A/N: Hey Anon! I had to rewatch this to do some of the dialogue from it (I condensed the first scene so it’s not incredibly long.) but it’s a good idea to rewtach this ep before reading....unless you remember that Heather was the catfisher and stuff. Anyways, this is a little longer cause t’s slower paced. I like the idea of being there for someone without needing to ask. Also yes, I’m taking the chance to flex some sports knowledge, sorry not sorry. Hope you enjoy <3
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Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles
“They traced the IP address to West Virginia,” Sonny said to Olivia, as they both came into the precinct.
“Good, get a John Doe warrant and send it to the local precinct,” Liv replied.
“Done and done.”
Liv gave him a smirk. “Then fill up your gas tank. Fin, you’re riding shotgun.”
“Oh, hell no; I’m allergic to West Virginia,” Fin said, leaning back in his chair.
Liv sighed. “Okay, Rollins, you’re up.”
“Really?” she whined.
Liv glanced between the two, already looking tired of this crap. “Come on, someone’s gotta translate for him,” she joked, gesturing at Sonny, who rolled his eyes.
“I’ll go,” you perked up. You were still the new kid, so you were jumping at every opportunity to go out in the field. Plus, you had a massive crush on Sonny, and being stuck in a car with him seemed like a good chance to learn more about him.
Liv gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you; at least someone here wants to work. But I’d also like someone with experience; Rollins, you’re going too.”
 ***************
The drive wasn’t awkward…at least, not for Sonny and Amanda. They’ve been partners for years now, chatting up a storm. You sat in the back seat, listening in on their stories, jumping in when appropriate, but otherwise fading into the leather behind you. This wasn’t what you had hoped for when you thought about going to West Virginia with Sonny, but at least you were getting some experience in the field…right?
The arrest was quick, painless. You actually found yourself feeling bad for Heather as you had her arrested in her mother’s home. But then you remembered what happened to Katie, and it solidified your resolve.
When Amanda suggested you three, and Chuck, the local officer, go to The Barrel—the local bar—for information, you’re first thought was that maybe alcohol would help you loosen up around Sonny. But after a few shots and a cocktail, all you saw was how he looked at Amanda, and you cursed yourself for not seeing it sooner. Why would he ever fall for someone like you when he could be with someone like her? And they were already so close; what was the point of trying?
Complaining about a headache, you excused yourself, telling them you’d see them in the morning.
“Want me to walk ya back to your room?” Sonny asked, looking concerned.
Your heart fluttered at the thought, but then you remembered the heart eyes he’d been giving Amanda all evening. “No, I’m fine. Thanks though.” You wandered back to the hotel across the parking lot, wiping the tears from your face, locking yourself in your room.
 ******************
You were in the hotel lobby making yourself coffee when Sonny came in.
“Morning, [y/n],” he said, smiling at you. “Feeling better today?”
You melted at his smile, tears threatening to form again, but you pushed down your feelings. “Uh, yeah, much better. How’d you sleep? Hopefully you and Rollins weren’t up too late.”
“Nah, it was fine. We may have started a bar fight, though,” Sonny grinned at you, and you giggled, trying to picture him fighting anyone. He went about making two coffees and grabbing an assortment of free breakfast foods. He put everything on a tray and you followed him out, heading towards Amanda’s room as he called Liv to give her an update. But you both froze as a man came out of Amanda’s room, both of them chatting for a moment before he left. And Sonny’s face fell as he turned and went towards his SUV instead.
You gave Amanda’s closed door one last look before you went after Sonny. He stopped at his SUV, putting the tray on top so that he could fish his keys out of his pocket. He sniffled and it was only then you realized he was crying.
“Hey, you okay?” you asked tentatively. But you knew the answer—of course you did. Because you had felt your heart shatter last night.
“Fine,” he grunted, opening the driver’s door and sliding in. This was sure to be a fun ride back to New York. Grabbing the tray he had left on the roof of his SUV, you climbed in behind the passenger seat.
You sat in silence for a few awkward moments before you said softly, “I’m so sorry, Sonny. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”
 *****************
The ride back was worse, to say the least. The tension in the air was thick, not to mention, you sat in back with Heather, who seemed to be daydreaming about meeting The Monster. You found yourself watching Sonny, or at least, the half of his face that you could see. He was quiet, subdued; so unlike him, and you realized you hated it. You wanted him to be his laughing, jokey self. You tried asking him questions—and Amanda, so you weren’t too obvious—but he wasn’t all there, his mind somewhere far away. Eventually, you gave up. falling into the silence of the drive.
 *****************
Liv mercifully gave the three of you the rest of the day off after delivering Heather to the precinct. You were just debating what to do for dinner when there was a knock at your door. Curious, you unlocked it, opening it to see Sonny shuffling on his feet on your doorstep.
“Son?” you asked in confusion.
He gave you a nervous smile. “Hey, can I come in?”
“Uh, yeah. ‘Course.” You moved out of the way, letting him enter your brownstone.
You both stood there awkwardly before he asked, “have you had dinner yet? If not, I can maybe whip something up? Or I can order takeout?”
“I haven’t yet, no.” Now thoroughly confused, you shrugged, playing along. “Did you have something in mind? I was thinking of ordering a pizza or something….”
“Pizza sounds great. Here, I’ll order. You like pepperoni, right?”
 ******************
You both idly chatted while waiting for the pizza to arrive, the awkward tension still palpable. Sonny didn���t say why he came over and you didn’t ask. The delivery man showed up soon enough, and Sonny insisted that he pay, so you let him. You found some beers in your fridge, offering one to him, which he gratefully accepted. As you ate, you started talking more, just about where you were before transferring to Manhattan, why you decided to come here of all places. The tension in the air subsided, and slowly, Sonny started talking about himself; his family, his recent accomplishment at Fordham—you had started just after he had passed the bar exam, so you didn’t hear much about it—and how much he loved his job.
“So, now that you passed the bar, are you going to leave us for Barba?” you asked. Sonny cocked an eyebrow, a grin on his face. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you giggled, your cheeks burning.
Sonny chuckled at the implication. “I—I don’t know yet. I really do love my job as a detective. But I always wanted to be a lawyer, ya know? And now I can be. But with Mike passing…it just doesn’t seem like the right time.” He took a sip of his beer. “Hey, maybe with you taking over, I’ll be able to. I’d feel less bad leaving the department behind; they won’t be as short-staffed.”
It hurt to think about Sonny leaving; you were just getting to know him. “I still got a long way to go, though. Liv wouldn’t even let me go with you to West Virginia alone. What was it she said? ‘I need someone experienced’ or some shit.” You rolled your eyes.
“Hey, I was in your shoes before, too. It’ll pass quicker than you can blink.” Sonny spun the bottle in his hands. “Besides, I almost wish it was just us, and that Rollins wasn’t…” he trailed off, his eyes staring at nothing.
You swallowed hard. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Hm? Nah…I mean, she’s my partner, yeah? I have her back, and I know she’s got mine…. We’re close and…yeah, I don’t know.” He looked everywhere but at you, a slight pink tint in his cheeks.
You nodded sympathetically. As much as you wanted him to like you, you just wanted him to be happy. And if she made him happy, then you’d have to live with that. “Being so close with someone for so long, it’s not shocking if feelings…developed. Have you talked to her about it at all?”
He shook his head. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help me with this, but can we stop talking about Rollins? Please?”
“Of course. Sorry…. I got ice cream, if you want some dessert?” you tried.
Sonny sat there for a moment, staring a hole into your floor. “You know what? I think I’m gonna get out of your hair.” He stood, stretching. “Thank you for letting me crash your night for a little bit.”
“You sure? You can stay as long as you need,” you replied, but he was already moving towards your front door, sliding his jacket on.
“Yeah, I’ve taken up enough of your time. See ya at work tomorrow.” And then he gave you that heart-melting smile before he was gone.
 ****************
Whether Fin or Liv could feel the tension in the precinct the next day, you weren’t sure. But Sonny had gone back to his nontalking self, sitting at his desk, working through Heather’s posts. At some point, Amanda invited him to lunch, but he declined. They had a few clipped, whispered words that you didn’t hear, but after she left, Sonny looked upset again.
Standing, you went to the coffee maker, making two cups—one for yourself and one for Sonny. You came back, placing it on his desk, within hands reach. He glanced up at you, and you gave him a soft smile before moving back to your desk, diving in on something to help Barba with his case against Heather.
After another half an hour, Sonny got up, coming over to your desk. “Wanna go grab lunch?”
You looked from him to the mountain of posts and pictures you still had to go through, then back at him. “Please,” you groaned, grabbing your jacket and following him out.
 ****************
For the next two weeks, you and Sonny would get lunch. Or, if it wasn’t possible to take lunch at the same time, you’d bring each other something, switching off each day. You both also seemed to know when the other ran out of coffee, placing a refill on one another’s desk just as you’d finish the last sip. Conversation started to flow easier between you two, and you found that you highly enjoyed just chatting with him. Every now and again, he’d come over to your place, and you’d just talk; mostly about work, sometimes about your families. You still had a crush on him, but you shoved it down, trying to not let it interfere with work, or with your new-found friendship. Though, you noticed with some glee that he no longer looked at Amanda with that sparkle in his eyes.
On Saturday night, Sonny showed up at your doorstep, a 12 pack in one hand, takeout in the other. “Are you not watching the hockey game tonight?” he asked, his Islanders sweater on proudly.
“I, uh, wasn’t planning on it?” you replied, confused. In all your talks, neither of you had mentioned sports, except that Sonny had played basketball as a kid.
“Pffttt. You are now,” he said, pushing into your place. You giggled, following him to your couch. Plopping down next to him, you grabbed a beer while he flipped through the stations until he found the game. He cheers’ed you, then you both took a sip, watching and yelling at the screen. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement with him, even if you didn’t know all the rules, nor particularly cared about hockey. You just enjoyed spending time with him.
At some point during the first period, Sonny put his arm on the back of the couch, his legs spread. You never understood how someone so lanky could take up so much room, but it made you smile. He just looked so natural, so comfortable on your couch, and you loved it.
“Come on, Lehner! You gotta cover your 5-hole!” Sonny yelled at the screen, groaning as the Islanders let in a goal.
“Uh, explain that to me, please?” you asked, confused.
Sonny sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees, moving closer to you. “Okay, so, ya see how the goalie, Lehner, has his legs so spread? Well, when the Pens shoot, that’s where they aim, ‘cause it’s his weak-spot and they know it. He’s slow to get his glove there and it’s an easy goal.”
“So…the 5-hole is between the legs?” you guessed.
“Exactly; see? You’re a quick learner,” Sonny smiled at you as the game cut to commercial.
You grinned back. “Well, I have a good teacher.”
Sonny’s eyes lit up with an idea. He put his beer down, then turned to face you. “Here, stand.” You cocked an eyebrow at him but obeyed. “Put your arms out and spread your legs…not that far; be comfortable. Okay, so, right here,” –he put his hand to the left side of your face, above your arm— “is the 1-hole. The opposite side here, that’s the 2-hole. Then here,” –he went back to your left side, under your arm this time— “is the 3-hole, and—”
“The opposite is the 4, and between the legs is 5?” you finished.
That lopsided grin was back. “Exactly.” He looked at the screen as the commercials ended. “Ooh, game’s back, here.” Sonny’s hands went to your hips, sending electricity through you. He dragged you back onto the couch next to him, your leg touching his, and his arm around your shoulders. You couldn’t pay attention to the game as your whole body heated, a stupid grin on your face from the closeness. At some point, you relaxed against him, snuggling into his side. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything. In fact, quite the opposite—when he wasn’t groaning or gesturing at the screen, he had his arm around you, holding you to him.
Once the game was over, Sonny helped you clean up. “Thanks for letting me crash your night again,” he said—the same thing he said every night when he showed up unannounced.
“Anytime,” you replied. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Sober as a fox,” he smiled.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that even a saying?”
“It is now,” he declared, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Really though; I’m fine. Thank you for worrying.”
You walked him to the door, holding it open for him. Sonny stopped just outside your place, turning back around to look at you. “Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe,” you said softly.
“Okay, I will…. I, uh, wanted to thank you. Not just for tonight, but for every night…and lunches, and coffees, and just—letting me be me for a little.” He gave you the sweetest smile, and you thought your chest was going to burst.
“Yeah, anytime, Sonny. I want you to feel…safe with me,” you replied.
“I do…I really do.”
You were leaning against your doorframe, and he had one hand on the wall next to it, leaning against it. Slowly, he leaned forward, his face getting closer to yours. Swallowing, and praying you weren’t misinterpreting, you leaned in, too, until your lips met in a soft, chaste kiss. Sonny’s mouth was gentle against yours, his lips smooth, and you stood up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself harder against him, afraid that he’d realize what was happening and that he’d pull away, disgusted. And though he did pull away, his eyes were still closed in bliss, a small smile on his face, one that slowly grew the longer you looked, making your own smile appear.
“You sure you don’t want to stay the night?” you asked, your voice hopeful.
Sonny looked deeply into your eyes, then to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Well, if you insist, maybe I can be persuaded to crash your night a little longer.”
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mikiruma · 2 years
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hi! i just had a small system related question and it's okay if you don't answer ofc! - how did you come to realize you're a system? i'm beginning to question myself as i notice more and more how i feel myself interacting with.. myself in my brain, and how wildly different i feel as if i'm a new person depending on the context of the moment. it's all very confusing and scary for me tbh but you've been pretty open about system stuff and figured you'd be a good person to ask advice :) thank you!
honestly this is such a big question.. which we wouldn't mind answering, of course. we'll do our best to condense everything into something readable.
disclaimer: we are not professionally diagnosed with DID/OSDD and do not currently see any professionals for it. all of our information comes from other systems via anecdotal evidence, relaying medical journals/their own psychiatrists, etc. please take anything we say with a grain of salt.
we don't want to be the ones to say we 'always knew,' because that would be wrong. what was true was we knew we had more than just what we were officially diagnosed with, which has always been just depression, generalized anxiety and ADHD. we received treatment for those for a while, and during, learned useful language to combat negative thoughts.
turns out it's hard to combat them effectively when you're using methods for singlets. we mentioned on @anothersystemcomic we used to write to each other- we think this might have stemmed from advice where we write ourselves affirmations. needless to say, seeing responses and having the conversation diverge from there was... interesting. for the longest time it was just me, mako and nebby. we had full intent of speaking with our therapist about it, but after our second (sudden) hospitalization, everything went quiet, so we didn't really feel the need..
cut to fictionkin amino. this is when the story gets a little.... cringey, for lack of a better word. yes, we learned what plurality was... yes, we also learned lots of conflicting misinformation and bore witness to lots and lots of drama that made no sense outside of that specific community. there was just enough halfway decent information thrown out haphazardly (ie correct diagnostic names, standard list of alter stereotypes, "fictives" and "littles" being system terms, but that's about it) for us to do our own research.. which is when it finally clicked. headmates started returning, albeit shaped by what they THOUGHT they should be based on the bad information we saw- some concealing their identities, others were outright fabricated as insurance for the former in case the concealing fell through & caused any rifts. (eventually the latter were all shed away & nobody in the former group feels the need to hide themselves from the rest of the system. turns out internal trust is built, not inherent.)
for reference, the amino stuff happened in the span of roughly a year and a half if we remember correctly. we quit the site & started focusing on stories from systems who dedicate their presence to battling stigma and misinformation, as well as sharing experiences with the systems we're in regular contact with. it's not an easy thing to come to terms with, but it's been a freeing self(s?) discovery that we wouldn't trade for the world.
this ended up maybe being a little more scattered. hopefully this helps? the way we "found out" feels pretty unconventional, but we're honored to be thought of for advice. the most we can really say is: keep an open mind with yourself, don't feel pressured to change to gain acceptance (even from other systems), and if you find later you aren't a system, that's fine too. it never hurts to be more educated & use the same healing tools if they help you in the moment. -🕸
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boogiewrites · 3 years
Text
Never Break the Chain Pt. 3
Part 3 of 5
Characters: Javier Peña x OFC
Summary:  Esme keeps her distance and Javier's obsession gets worse. She decides to let him find her and they're both faced with the hard questions they've been suppressing for decades.
Warnings/Tags: Reunited Lovers.  Angst. Yearning. Difficult adult conversations. Regret. Nostalgia. 
Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!
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Steve stood staring and ignored by a red-eyed and greasy Peña still hunched over a desk with boxes of old files piling up around him. The boxes obscured half of him, stacks that started on the desktop, now on the floor. His nose twitched from the dust and his eyes burned from lack of sleep.
“Did you ever leave?” Murphy moves a few boxes to sit on his desk that had been commandeered for Pena’s obsession.
As if snapping out of a trance, Javier looks up and around, seeing morning light again through the high windows in the cool-hued room that lacked any warmth in its sterile choice of furnishings. “Guess not.” he yawns and looks back down at the work he’s done.
“You look like shit, man.”
“Thanks.” he gruffs out and stretches, a noise that half groan and half yawn escapes him.
“Did you at least find anything?”
“Plenty.” he pauses and rubs his face. “Unfortunately.” he pushes a legal pad full of scribbled notes with dates.
“These...all her?”
“I think so.”
“Damn Javi, you sure can pick ‘em.” he grins at the expense of his partner.
“She always said she was gonna be rich.”
“The Lucchia Heist?” Steve snorts in amusement.
“Potentially. She’s…” he lets out a slightly crazed but hushed laugh. “She’s fuckin’ good.” he covers his face before resting his head on his palm, supported by the desk. “I’d bet my badge she’s framed more people than I’ve even had time to find. Had a million aliases. Been everywhere from Corpus Christi to Lima. I’ve traced her down the continent.”
“And she landed right in your backyard.” Steve tosses the roughed-up papers, months of research, back in front of him. “You’re not a man who believes in fate are ya Javi?” he smirks.
“She said she didn’t know I was here.” a mumbled response as he begins putting away his research.
“And you believe her?”
He focuses on removing the evidence of his fascination, putting it away in a drawer that’s near full and dedicated to her. He stops and pauses, a thoughtful expression before answering, “I might be another sucker in the long list she’s got but... yeah, I do.”
-----
With the aged bulbs in the generic hotel room, the woman with him was easy to push out of his mind. He outstretched his arm as she pulled on her panties with a jump.
“Who is Esme?” she asks softly, attempting to make a connection with a man she felt she almost knew with as many times as they’d been together.
He didn’t look her way and motioned the hand with the money in it again.
“You’ve had your nights before but… the past few months you’ve... and now tonight? Should I be worried?”
“No,” he states with a bite. It wasn’t directed at her but himself. He tossed the money onto the bed and moved to light a cigarette. “You shouldn’t be no matter how I act.”
She holds in a sigh, a grimace on her face as she pockets the money and dresses. “Are you su-”
“What do you want to hear?” he turns his head sharply her way, brow low, but not aggressive enough to make her fear him.
She knew men, and she knew his problem was a woman, not the job like it usually was. Javier didn't get emotional over work when they were together. He would be rougher sometimes, softer others... but a disconnect was far from the usual. He was a client she was glad to hear from. He treated her with respect, he looked her in her eyes and handled her as if he cared about how she felt while they fucked. It was rare but entirely welcome. She curses herself silently for caring. He was right.
“I’m sorry,” she answers curtly. “You’re right.” she nods and gathers her things. “I’ll go.”
“It’s not you-” he begins with his head down before she passes him at the foot of the bed.
“I know. It’s not my business. It’s... I know women. It's hard to believe you would have trouble with one.” she lets out a smile to break the tension and his face doesn’t tell her if she succeeded or not. “You know where to find me.” she says kindly, something he felt he didn’t entirely deserve at the moment. He could hear her heels patting down the hallway outside when she left, fading until she was down the elevator and gone.
He gives his forehead a hard rub, nails scratching into his scalp before taking a long drag. “Fuck.” he exhales loudly to an empty room. He couldn’t get her out of his head.
-------------------------
The heat was something he had grown up with, he never found that part of Colombian weather to be difficult. But the humidity, that was a different experience. He quickly lost any self-consciousness about the sweat showing through his shirts, everyone else's looked the same. Propped against a stucco wall that was radiating the sun's warmth into his back, he partook in his condensation-covered beer bottle and his favorite public activity, people watching. It was an art form for him, once an amusing pastime that he made a living off now. There was no short of things to look for, the Festival of Flowers was in full swing and everyone was crowded into the streets. It was loud, a bit chaotic, and exactly the sort of crowd he felt comfortable observing.
The Discoteca a few streets down was powerful, sending music out over the radios in stalls and stores dotted along the streets surrounding it. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant but that didn’t stop Javier from having an annoyed expression. Songs from his past would play casually, feeling anything but in his head. He knocked back the rest of his drink and promptly got another every time a memory was triggered.
It had been almost a year now since he’d seen Esme. From what he’d learned, he wasn’t surprised. She could keep playing the phoenix forever. She could’ve been across the world by now and he was powerless to pursue her. Of all the possibilities, he still held onto the statistical probability that she was still around. She had good connections here, it made sense for her to stay. This unignorable fact led his obsession to be indulged by his profession, his paranoia fueled by his keen observational skills. A handful of times he would’ve bet he'd seen her. Sometimes he could follow, others he couldn't. Either way, he ended up at a brothel and with a woman who may look like her but wasn’t. The boisterous festival crowds would be a perfect place for her to be anonymous, the plumes of flowers were cover to disappear in plain sight. He wouldn’t admit to himself, but he was feeling hopeful. Or was it the alcohol?
Esme, with her head heavy from the large crown of flowers she wore, matching her brightly colored traditional dress skipped and hopped her way across the rooftops of the lively streets. She held the flowers to her head and jumped from pitch to pitch with her woven shoes. She knew this part of the city in light or dark. Not just for her safety but for means to get the drop on others. Her work with the cartel made sure she was knowledgeable in such things. But it also came in handy for a specific reason she’d been indulging in for almost a year now.
He was moping around his usual watering hole for this part of town. She sat with her head on her hands, between two flower pots, watching Javier from the safety of the rooftop across the street. She’d seen him many times, mostly taking home girls, or spoiling them with nice hotels for the night. Since she now knew the Pena she’d heard of was HER Pena, she asked the local sex workers about him and she wasn’t let down with the gossip they shared. She found out he’d been looking for her, not that any of them knew she was this infamous woman the playboy was hung up on. After a polite offer of employment, she dipped out and felt an odd satisfaction in what he’d become. It wasn’t ideal by any means but he was a good man. That was more than she would’ve guessed he’d become with the company he kept.
Each song from their past hit their ears at the same time, both suppressing a sigh as it floated down the streets, imagining a simpler time with one another. She’d missed him. Just as he had, she’d tried to drink and fuck the pain away for a bit but it didn’t work as well for her. She was left feeling nostalgic and downright amorous about him, seeing him lean, strong, and handsome against that wall. Sweat beading down his neck like it did on the bottle he held. She wanted to pop those buttons right off his shirt and- she knew it wasn’t smart to indulge in such fantasies. But he was the only man left that she even cared to think about when he wasn’t directly in her line of sight. She wanted to see him again. Was she willing to throw away months of laying low for a rendezvous? The summer sun made her feel young, the songs pumping blood to places, like her heart, it didn’t normally flow anymore. It made her feel young again. And at this point, it was a welcome and sought-after feeling.
——
A group of dancing girls covered in flowers with wide sweeping skirts made their way down the street. They wore smiles and the brightest of colors, dancing with each other and passersby as carts of flowers were pushed around them. Esme had been in South America long enough to know how to blend in. It was easy considering she didn’t look like a gringo. Her Latin heritage assured a degree of anonymity and mixing in, adding in the factor of whirling skirts and a blur of color from flowers she melded right in. Her chameleon skills were enviable but Javier’s observation skills were better.
Of course, he’d look at the group of beautiful women flouncing towards him. He seldom passed a woman he didn’t take a second glance at. As he glanced over their faces, to see if any had been friendly to him previously, the set of emerald green eyes grabbed him as they sat deep-set in a heart-shaped face he used to know intimately. Like a dog with a scent caught in his nose, he perks up, bottle discarded as he takes a step towards the street. She separates herself, a clear view of each other for a moment before a smile as bright as the sun beating down on them meets his gobsmacked expression. For only a moment there’s an unbroken line of sight and he instinctively pursues. With a bite of her lip that was a mix of flirtation excitement and a challenge, she spins on her heel and runs to an alleyway. He was fast on his feet behind.
This was where she felt at home, fast and light on her feet through small spaces and over walls. She desired to test Javi, combined with her caring about anyone seeing them, luring him to a safe space. She could hear his grunts and calls of her name like it was a swear as she’d climb and hop drain pipes and fences. All he could hear was the occasional heavy breath and giggle coming from her. They moved away from the busy streets, up higher over every sketchy rooftop, and eventually came to climb onto a secluded and blocked-off rooftop together.
“You've still got it Javi.” she laughs breathlessly, hands on her knees from the far side of the roof he’s slid onto.” her face beams his way, a sheen of sweat catching in the sun as she fluffs back her hair.
“I never lost it,” he grunts, dusting off his jeans. “Can’t afford to.” he pauses and regains his cocky posture.
“You look good.” she offers as a compliment, both closing the space between them to face off.
He takes his time, looking her up and down, unsure of her motives, yet she'd always had that wild streak. He used to love that about her. Now it made it hard to read. “So do you.” he presents in response to her out-of-place compliment.
“It's nice to finally see you up close.” her face is relaxed, too relaxed in his opinion. She touches his chest, hands light on his collar and moving up to tuck back the messed pieces of dark hair from his sideburns.
“That mean you’ve seen me from afar?” he stands stoically still, letting her touch him, not ready to reciprocate.
“Possibly,” she smirks, eyes trailing over his now-adult facial features. His brow had hardened, his jaw rounder but still sharp. Her favorite part, his nose was now proportionate and he was even more attractive up close. She lets a small sigh slip, dedicating his handsome face to memory. “Couldn’t let you pick up on my location could I?”
“Is that why you knocked me out?”
She lets out a chuckle and pats his chest. “That was… an unfortunate mistake on your behalf and a fortunate one for me. I have laced lipstick I wear during jobs. Easy to kiss a man and get away. Less messy than shooting. And far quieter.”
“Poison lipstick…” he nods thoughtfully.
“I’ve spent years perfecting it, dosing myself with tiny amounts to have immunity. Took a note from the Renaissance covert killers.” she smiles proudly. “I’m very proud of it.”
“You should be,” he admits begrudgingly. “I’ve looked up your work. It’s… impressive.”
“That means a lot coming from you. Your career has been notable as well.”
“Looks like we both got what we wanted, huh?” The response was bleeding with sarcasm.
She bites her lip, her shoulders slumping just enough for him to notice. “It is what we said we wanted.” her voice was softer now, less playful and confident as he sees the lump in her throat bob up and down. He lets her sit with her words for a moment, seeing a passing sadness behind her eyes. They seemed even brighter green than he remembered. But memories aren’t always honest.
“Where have you been?” a demand, not much of a sweet inquiry.
“If you’ve looked at my records then you know already. “
“This past year. Where have you been?"
“In Colombia.” She gives a subtle shrug.
“So I don’t get an answer?”
“You want the longitude and latitude? I can’t give you exact locations so you can know where to find people.” She frowns.
“You think I give a shit about that?” His brow furrowed and his head tilts. She’s caught off guard by his defensiveness. “The shit I deal with… a couple of stones means nothing. I want to know about you. That’s why I asked where you had been. Not who you’d been with.”
She felt scolded. It wasn’t something she was used to. Still, he was the only man who could pull it off. “I have a place in the mountains I stay at on occasion. I float around and do jobs. There’s no specific place.”
“You have a place here and you couldn’t come find me?” He sounded almost hurt.
“I can’t have anyone know we know each other. They’d kill me. Kill you.” She knew he was accusing her of not caring. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth. “I didn’t want you getting hurt.” She finally averts her eyes, a vaguely familiar ache in her chest growing.
He lets out a harsh laugh. “Should’ve thought about that twenty years ago when I thought you were dead.” He spits out. He sees the hurt in her eyes and he takes a moment to move her hands from him, and take a ragged breath. “You’ve been SO close this whole time. And I didn’t know…” he clenches his jaw and looks away to the horizon. Readjusting his posture he swings his head back her way and flares over her, an accusing finger in her face. “I can’t take this... you running around and not knowing SHIT about it.”
With sad eyes but a firm expression she swallows. “You used to get possessive like this. I remember… I’d-” Her voice is breathy and her hand moves to remove his from her face, a gentle hold that he answers harshly.
Grabbing her wrist, her eyes widen as he stares her down. “Don’t fucking tease me, Esme.”
Her brow furrowed quickly as she tries to tug away.
“I could take you in right now you know. For so many reasons.”
“You wouldn’t though.”
“Would I not?”
She stares with wide eyes that would’ve made him drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness when he was young. His worst fear was to hurt her back then. Now it was her getting hurt from her own actions.
“You have no idea the hell you put me through, do you? All this time not knowing for sure. And you’ve raised from the dead and think you can fuck with a man's head like this?” She could feel the bite of his words as he spoke quietly to her, letting her wrist go after he made his point. “Do you even give a shit or is this another game you’re running? Are you conning me too? Is there some guy who’s fallen for this shit somewhere with a gun on me right now?”
“How could you say that? I’d never.” She holds back a stutter in her throat. She felt something she hadn’t in a very long time, the sting of tears in her eyes. He regretted his outburst as soon as he saw it. He just had so many years of anger and hurt built up it was hard not to explode.
“Did you miss me at all?” His voice a whisper now, eyes wider and opening up like he was trying to.
It broke her to see him like this now. This stoic figure was just a shell covering that young man she left. She didn’t know it would hold onto him this long, that he did love her that much. “If you saw the wear on my rosary you'd have your answer. I prayed you to be safe. For you to get what you wanted.” She clears her throat and tries not to break.
“All I ever wanted was you.” A clear and plain statement. It was a fact.
“I had to make my own life.” She said it as an excuse and she hated the way it sounded coming from her. It made her feel weak. “You wanted yours.”
“We were kids. We didn’t know what the fuck we wanted.” He huffs out a strangled laugh.
She takes a deep breath and her time in answering. “We were. We didn’t.”
It was an admission of guilt on both their behalfs. They got what they said they wanted but was it really what made them happy? They’d been chasing a fix to fill a void of their own making. And now on the other side, the ugly truth of their dreams stares them and their unhappiness down every day.
“I’m sorry.” She adds and lowers her head. “I felt trapped and I knew you’d… do exactly what you are right now if you thought I was out there.”
“You were right.” He sighs and reaches to lift her chin revealing tears falling down her cheeks. He cups her face and wipes them away with his thumbs.
“I shouldn’t have reached out to you again.” She shakes her head.
“No...no, you should have.” He sighs heavily and pulls her into his chest, something she didn’t expect. “I’m sorry too.” He remarks into her hair, closing his eyes and feeling her in his arms. “I’m just…” he trails off. What could he say? I’m lost, I’m tired, unhappy, empty, angry? There wasn’t enough time to explain how he felt about this... about her. “I’m sorry too. I’m glad you let me find you. Okay?” He leans her head back to look up at him.
“I didn’t know you were here. In Colombia. I came here for work.”
“So did I.” He looks away purses his lips. “You know you can’t work for those men.” He wipes away her tears again, his hand smoothing her black waves away from her face. “They’ll kill you, Esme. The second you do something wrong they won’t even blink.”
“Like talk to you?” She arches a brow and gives him a soft smile. “I know, Javi. I know the risks.”
“And you still did it?”
“I missed you.” she admits with a soft exhale.
He pulls her in again, tighter this time. A kiss to her hair as he strokes his hands over her. “You know you need to get going. It’s almost night they’ll be crawling all over soon.”
She nods but doesn’t pull away. “They can’t see us here. There are no lookouts. It’s why I brought us here.”
“You know this place that well?”
“I have to. I don’t have a choice.” It felt hopeless as it left her trembling lips and it reflected more regret as she let it escape. It sounded as tired as she felt. It was as if being in his arms made her aware of how exhausted she was. How worn and hollow she was.
He knew the sound of exhaustion well. He heard it when he would deflect questions from the women he would pay to distract him from the one in his arms. “I know, sweetheart. Believe me, I know.” When she didn’t pull away, he didn’t make her. It gave him the answers he needed. At least what he needed to make it through another day without her for a short while.
@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit @shikin83​ 
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chipper9906 · 3 years
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Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 7: Slip Of The Silver Tongue
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WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’
Pairings: Loki/Sylvie
Rating: General Audiences
Chapter Word Count: 8,223
Overall Word Count: 65,405
Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (7/?)
Chapter Preview:
Loki grunts — a terribly well-thought-out argument — taking a moment at the top of the stairs to wait for his vision to stop swimming. “Didn’t I ask you to stop me from pouring any more drinks?” “You did,” Sylvie agrees. “You also then proceeded to tell me that ‘one more drink couldn’t hurt’, called the waitress over for the last of their wine stores, and then nearly stabbed that wannabe knight who started getting grabby with me.”
“He deserved worse,” Loki mumbled darkly, letting Sylvie guide him towards the room she had booked for them. “Not that I had to do anything, of course. By the time I had gotten my daggers out, you had already dented his cranium with your tankard.”
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This wasn’t the first time Sylvie had seen someone fall victim to shock.
It usually happened when there was a specific sweet spot in the time it takes for an Apocalyptic event to occur. If it happens quickly, then most people don’t have time to actually react to it. That was probably the better option, where they didn’t know what was coming. The slower Apocalypses, like Lamentis or Miiphus, were some of the worst. The people of those Apocalypses were often unable to accept their fate. There was always that little stubborn bit of hope they clung onto, trying everything in their power to change their fate. Of course, they never could change it, because the Apocalypse of their world was written in stone. It had to happen, in accordance with His timeline. 
But then there were some in the middle… the ones where the people could see the end coming. They knew there was nothing they could do to stop it, and He Who Remains was cruel enough to give them just enough time where all they could do was stand there and realize this before everything they ever knew and loved was destroyed. 
That’s the times she saw people in a state of being… shell-shocked. Not all, of course. Most screamed, most ran, some… showed the crueler side of their nature in the face of the end. But a few people did nothing. She supposed they could be feeling despair in that moment, more than likely some terror, but… they don’t show it on their face. Their expressions are often next to impossible to read, like their mind had just… shut off.
She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that that was what was happening to Loki.
She didn’t like it. Not one bit. Loki wasn’t like this. Loki was sharp and attentive, his razor-sharp wit and equally sharp tongue one of many traits that helped keep him alive. That Loki? He was gone, buried deep somewhere inside this empty shell of a man that weakly clung to her hand, pushing through the snow gathered around their feet like he hadn’t even registered it was there. 
Sylvie’s head snaps to the right, to where she heard the sound of pounding hooves barely muted by the thick blanket of snow. She just about gets a glimpse of a band of riders galloping down the path towards them before she jumps behind a tree, dragging Loki with her. Thankfully, he still seems to have some sense of self-preservation left in him, willingly letting her pull him towards her until they were both pressed against each other, flattening themselves against the tree. 
Sylvie winces at the rough bark pressing against her back, the thin and flimsy material of the TVA shirt and blazer providing little to no protection. Loki’s breathing is loud and shallow right next to her ear, the two of them pressed so tightly together that she can feel the rise and fall of his chest. The booming sound of the horses gallops slowly fades away as the riders pass them by, and it’s only then that Sylvie changes her clothes with a shrug of her shoulders and a burst of magic, re-materializing her usual clothing and ridding herself of a uniform she hopes she never has to wear again. 
“Where… where are we?” Loki asks, and Sylvie had never been so glad to hear his voice. He slowly pushes away from her, scanning their surroundings with wide eyes like he couldn’t figure out how they had got here. 
“Earth,” Sylvie brings his attention back to her, not bothering to hide the worry on her face. 
“Those riders…” Loki looks to where the riders had disappeared between the thick thatches of trees, white puffs of condensation materializing from his mouth as he spoke. “Last I remember of my time on Earth, not many people carried swords... What year did you take us to?”
“Eighth century,” answered Sylvie, giving Loki’s hand a gentle squeeze to bring his attention back to her when he continued to stare out into the distance. “I know a place that's not too far. Are you… are you okay to walk?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Loki shoots Sylvie a strained smile that knocks away some of the reassurance she felt that he was starting to come back to himself, wishing that far-away look in his eyes would be gone. Loki weakly gestures with a wave of his hand in the direction they had been walking in. “Lead the way.”
* * *
Not once during their trek does Sylvie let go of his hand. Sometimes it felt like the only thing anchoring Loki to reality was her, and that if she let go, he would simply cease to exist. 
Loki doesn’t hound her with his usual questions or provide insightful commentary on their surroundings. She… missed it, actually. Not just because their absence further proves that something with Loki isn’t quite right, but also because… to put it bluntly, she missed him. She missed hearing his voice, and missed feeling annoyed at hearing his voice. 
...What was she talking about? She was thinking like Loki was dead, with his hand wrapped around hers, and his stumbling footsteps just behind her. He was still there, she knew that, he just… needed some time, is all. It wasn’t like he was going to quickly bounce back from…
Gods, had that really happened? Mobius was… he was… 
Why did this hurt? Mobius was a man who had chased her across branches, hunting her down like it was for sport. She had only known him briefly, and this Mobius wasn’t even the one they knew. And yet… his death left an oddly hollow feeling in her chest that she knows must be immense and suffocating inside of Loki’s. 
That was why, she supposed. It just seemed to be the way it worked with them. Mobius’s death was clearly wreaking havoc on Loki’s emotions, overwhelming him with levels of guilt and pain that he was struggling to handle. Loki was hurting, and just from that, she was hurting too. Loki was mourning the loss of his friend, and so she was mourning, too. 
But she couldn’t let herself fall into it like Loki was. If she’s the only one of them that can tread on the surface of despair Loki was sinking into and keep the both of them afloat? Then that’s just what she’ll have to do. 
The sight of the little building nestled within the forest brings with it a much-needed air of relief. The columns of smoke billowing from the inn’s chimney gave promises of alluring warmth and shelter from the cold — not that it bothered them all that much — and more importantly, the drunken patrons stumbling out of the front door that struggled to climb atop their horses gave promises of a much-needed drink. 
“Hang on.” Sylvie comes to a stop, holding out a hand to stop Loki from walking any further forward. There was still enough distance and cover provided by the forest that no one would be able to spot them just yet. “It’s probably best that you change out of your clothes, too. We’re probably going to get a decent amount of stares with me wearing armor. I can’t imagine these people will react too well to seeing someone in an office get up.”
“Right…” Loki nods his head, peering at the handful of people of this time that stood around the entrance to the Inn, friendly smiles on their faces as they conversed whilst simultaneously keeping one hand placed atop the hilt of their swords. His eyes scan meticulously over their clothing, taking note of every small detail he can see that may be of use.
Loki moves closer towards the cover of a nearby tree, blocking out most of the light from his magic as he changes his wardrobe. What he wore was quite similar to his usual Asgardian armor, being mostly comprised of leather as most other pieces of armor from this time period on Earth seemed to be. Thankfully, the dark colors of his clothing seemed to be a common theme amongst others he had seen so far, so it wasn’t like they would have to worry over this Earth’s people scrutinizing their coloring choice. 
Sylvie raised an eyebrow at the addition of some sort of fur wrap that ran along the collar and flowed down his back like… well, like a cape, it looked like. The fur was as dark in color, as was the rest of his outfit, the muted light from the cloud-covered sun barely able to show whether it was a very dark brown, or was simply black. 
“People might look at us strangely if we’re walking around in freezing temperatures without a coat,” Loki says when he catches sight of her questioning look. 
Sylvie had to admit that he had a point there. Before she can say anything or do anything in response, Loki had manifested a similar fur-lined coat in his hands. Sylvie raises a hand up, intending to take it from him, but of course Loki instead chooses to reach across her and drape it around her shoulders. He tucks the lapels of the coat together, waiting for Sylvie to reach out and grab hold of the lapels to keep it tightly wrapped around herself before letting go. 
“There -- now we match,” Loki says with a soft smile that struggles to reach his eyes. “Also should help to reduce some of the stares at seeing a woman in armor…”
Loki and Sylvie continue towards the beckoning light spilling out from the Inn, the layer of snow under their feet steadily shifting to well-worn paths of mud and compacted snow. Only once do Loki’s feet nearly slide out from under him, but it takes everything in Sylvie not to crackup into laughter as she catches his arm to steady him. 
The group of people milling about the door don’t even bat an eyelid at them as they squeeze by, evidently too invested in whatever conversations they were having to pay attention to the passing strangers. Even as Frost Giants, the blast of warmth that hits them as they push open the heavy wooden door is nothing less than a blessing. They both kick away the stubborn bits of mud and snow that clung to their boots, thankful to see only a few curious pub-goers had turned to see the newcomers. They apparently decided they weren’t of much interest, turning their attention back to their company and whatever alcoholic beverage was contained within the mugs in their hands. 
Sylvie catches sight of a small table that is blessedly empty, tucked away within the corner of the room and away from the line of sight of eyes that might be a little too curious. Loki trails behind as Sylvie leads them to it, waiting for her to slide into place on one of the rickety-looking wooden benches before taking a seat for himself opposite. 
The Inn was lit only by the fireplace that sat within the middle of the back wall, which also provided the old building with the much-needed heat against the bitter cold of the winter they had stepped into. Usually, Loki would be doing the same as Sylvie is right now: taking note of every exit, every potentially unsavory individual; preparing for the possibility of things going south, and figuring out whether running or fighting would be the best option depending on what went down. 
But right now… he was tired. Drained. A part of him wanted to… to slip back into that uncaring facade. It had been his best line of defense, and now, the mask no longer seemed to fit. 
“Be back in a minute,” Sylvie tells him in passing as she springs up from the table. She squeezes his shoulder as she passes, which he’s nearly unable to feel through the thick layer of fur that covered it. 
She comes back moments later with two shoddily crafted metal cups in hand, one being more like a goblet in shape, and the other more like a tankard of some sort. She places the silver goblet on the table in front of him, before dropping back down onto the bench and claiming the tankard for herself. 
“Kinda just guessed you’d want wine,” Sylvie tells him as he pulls the goblet towards him and peers down into its contents. “I’d ask for something stronger, but uh… we’re sort of limited to a few options here.”
“How did you pay for these?” Loki asks, the first genuine hint of amusement she’s heard from him laced into his question.
Sylvie wiggles her eyebrows at him in response, whilst also raising her hand into the air and wiggling her fingers with a burst of lime-green light. It manages to pull the tiniest of smiles from Loki, looking down to his drink with a huffed breath of laughter. 
“Probably should have guessed that, shouldn’t I?”
“Probably,” Sylvie agrees with a smile, raising the tankard to her lips and taking a sip of the dark ale within. 
Loki mirrors her actions, although where she had taken a single sip, his ‘sip’ didn’t stop until every last drop was sucked down. Sylvie was a little impressed as she watched him chuck his head back and down the entire thing in what seemed like one swallow, but mostly… she was just worried.
“Did... did you even taste that?”
The goblet clangs loudly as Loki returns it to the table, chuckling low, deep, and slow in a way that, if it had been anyone else, probably would have made her skin crawl. “I’m not exactly drinking it for the taste.”
'Fair point,' Sylvie thought. Not one to be outdone (and because, quite frankly, she needed it), Sylvie brought her metal tankard up to her mouth, draining the entire mug in only a few swallows. Loki shot her an equally impressed look once she dropped the tankard back down to the table, which she returned with a shrug of her shoulders.
“You know, sometimes I’m jealous of the humans,” Loki says almost a little too loudly. He raises the now empty goblet in his hands up in the air, cocking his head to the side as he inspects the blacksmith’s handiwork. “Their bodies are weaker than ours… and so it’s so much easier for them to get drunk… and for longer.”
“Well, the drinks on Lamentis certainly seemed to be effective on you.” Sylvie slides the goblet out of his hands, catching the eye of a nearby waitress and summoning her over with a curl of her finger. “I would say that I’m starting to feel you have a drinking problem but…” Sylvie trails off for a moment, her mouth softly closing with a sympathetic grimace. “But… I think I need a drink about as much as you do.”
Right on cue, the waitress appears by their table, carrying two large jugs of the drinks they had previously offered. She puts one down on the table, preparing to pour the other into Loki’s goblet first to top it up, but Loki places his hand over the top of the goblet to stop her. 
“You might be better off leaving them both here,” Loki not so non-nonchalantly suggests to her with a charming smile. “Would probably save you the trips back and forth to our table.”
“I’m not sure that’s—” The woman starts to say, and it’s enough for Loki to realize it was another way of saying ‘no.’ He moves his hand from his goblet to the woman’s hand atop the handle of the jug, his smile not once wavering. No one, apart from him and Sylvie, see the green glow emitting from underneath his hands. 
“I’m just trying to make your job easier for you.”
“Yes… yes, you’re right,” The waitress agrees, looking a little dazed as she slides her hands away from Loki and the jugs. “Let me know if you need any more, and I’ll bring them right over.”
“Lovely, thank you.” The smile on Loki’s face only drops away once the waitress has turned her back to them, and it’s a harsh reminder to them both of just how good of an actor he is.
How good of a liar he is. 
"You're getting better," Sylvie notes once the waitress is out of earshot. "Won't be long before enchantment feels like second nature."
“Like you said — easier on those with simple minds. For a change of subject—" Loki picks up the jug of dark ale first, refilling Sylvie’s tankard for her before she can even ask — or say that she even wanted another one. She takes the cup once he offers it to her anyway, settling back against the uncomfortably hard wooden panels behind her. Loki doesn’t continue the rest of his sentence before he's poured himself another drink, hunched over the table as he holds onto his goblet of wine like it was a lifeline. “—What brings the end to this picturesque little location? Seems a little… small, to be classed as an Apocalypse.”
“There’s a village a few miles to the West from here.” Sylvie gestures with a flick of her head in the direction of the village. “Not a particularly large population, but… large by the standards of this time period.”
“Ah… so what brings about their end?” Loki asks like they were discussing the weather, perhaps the most emotionless smile on his face that she’s seen from him as he takes another long drink from his goblet. 
Sylvie doesn’t answer his question. Loki raises his brows when she just stares at him instead of speaking, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leans forward against the table. “Loki… I know what you’re doing.”
Loki’s eyebrows somehow raise even higher, shooting Sylvie a bemused frown. “What… I’m doing?”
“I saw you on Miiphus. You can’t pretend like seeing all these worlds coming to an end doesn’t bother you. And now, you’re… you’re trying to pretend like you don’t care.”
“Because I don’t—”
“You do, though,” Sylvie cuts off another lie. “And I know you do, because I do. Even after all these years, even when I think I’m desensitized to it… I still care. I care that all these apocalypses happen because He decided they do. So don’t give me that. Don’t give me this… this regressed form of yourself. You know as well as I do that you’re pretending you don’t care so that it’s easier to talk about -- because you’re looking for a distraction.”
Something on Loki’s face shifts. A slip, a give to the illusion. Sylvie didn’t say what it was that he was trying to distract himself from, but it’s not like she needs to. She pushes her tankard to the side, reaching out for Loki like it was second nature. His jaw shifts by just the slightest as her hand rests atop of his, his eyes never once leaving hers. 
“If you want to talk to me… just talk to me,” Sylvie offers earnestly. “And if you can’t talk to me about… about that… then you don’t have to. I’m more than happy to act as a distraction if you want me to, just… don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. And hey -- I booked us a room upstairs in case all you want to do is drink until you pass out, and I’ll haul your drunken arse up the stairs.”
For the first time since they’ve gotten here, the half-a-smile that pulls at Loki’s lips is one she knows comes from her Loki. 
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, soft and quiet, and the illusion is broken. “It’s just… easier that way… Not to think about it.”
“Believe me, I know.” Sylvie lifts her hand from Loki’s, wrapping it back around her tankard and taking a sip. “And that’s something I’m working on, too. I… I want to open up to you more, even when everything inside me is screaming at me not to. So… I understand if… if you can’t talk about it.”
Loki closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He opens them back up again, glancing over to the nearly full jug of wine next to him, feeling very grateful for its presence. “First… you answer my previous question, about what happens here.”
“Snowstorm,” Sylvie answers, keeping her voice low as she turns her gaze towards the frost-covered windows of the Inn. “Still a few days out -- but then again, since we don’t know what timeline this is, it could be sooner… or later… or not at all.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about this one,” Loki points out, one of the only times he’s thankful for his true heritage. “Were they… not prepared for it?”
“Not really something they can predict. They prepare for winter, sure, but this…? It’s just… too much for them to handle. This apocalypse, it’s…” Sylvie shivers, not from the cold but more of a sympathetic reaction. “It’s… slow. The ones that freeze to death are the lucky ones. Others… fight a losing battle. Food runs out pretty quickly, and once their storages are gone… the fighting starts. No one makes it through to the spring.”
Loki hums sadly, dropping his gaze down to his goblet as he taps his fingers along its surface. “Did you see that often…?”
“What -- people panicking in the face of death?” Sylvie’s voice is twinged with amusement, amazed that Loki would ask a question with such an obvious answer. 
“No, that’s a given,” Loki dismisses with a wave of his hand. “More… people being reduced to their animalistic tendencies. Civilizations that took centuries to develop, reduced to bare instincts in such little time.”
Sylvie sighs heavily through her nose, taking another drink of ale before she answers. “It’s… it’s not easy to predict how we’d react in the face of death. Having been there to watch it unfold countless times… I sometimes wondered what I would do in their place. There were many times where that was almost the case. There was never a guarantee I’d make it through to the next apocalypse. Never a guarantee that the TVA wouldn’t figure out my hiding spaces before I could make my move.”
Loki drops his gaze, shoulders hunched over as the guilt forces his eyes away from hers. Like usual, Sylvie seemed to be able to read his mind, reaching out a hand to wrap around his wrist. “I know I like to tease you about it sometimes, but I don’t blame you. I know you were doing what you needed to do to survive, same as I was. And at the end of it all… you were there with me.”
“Sometimes wish it could have played out differently,” Loki mumbles, head still bowed towards his goblet of wine. “That we could have met under better circumstances.”
“How?” Sylvie asks with a chuckle. “Not many people get to meet a variant of themselves unless under very particular TVA-related circumstances -- and that’s in the off-chance they do something wrong.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Loki finally lifts his gaze back up, even if it’s only to pull the jug of wine closer and refill his goblet. He turns his attention back to Sylvie, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he lifts his goblet into the air. “And now here we are: having massively cocked up the timeline by doing what we thought was right, leading to us hunting down infinite amounts of the same dangerous, potentially — more than likely — genocidal man, who may or may not be aware of our presence, and is hunting us down in return.”
Sylvie returns his smile with one of her own, lifting up her own tankard and clinking it against Loki’s. “I’m leaning more towards the ‘may be aware’ than ‘may not’ side of him hunting us down.”
Loki agrees with a mixture of a hum and a groan as he drains yet another cup of wine, wiping away any remnants that clung to his upper lip as he lowers the cup from his mouth. “Could always use a challenge.”
“And what -- trying to kill every version of one man isn’t enough of a challenge for you?”
Loki shrugs. “Sounds like an average day to me.”
Sylvie chuckles lightly, shaking her head at him. “Keep up that confidence, and we’ll be done with this whole mess in no time.”
“And then we’ll be right back to where we were,” Loki says, the easy-going smile on his face slipping slightly. “With either one of us knowing what to do next…”
“One step at a time,” Sylvie utters softly, ducking her head to catch Loki’s eye. “It’s difficult to focus on what’s next when what’s ahead is as big as it is.”
Loki nods at her answer, dragging his goblet across the table to take another drink. Sylvie reaches out a hand to stop him before he can lift it, forcing his eyes up to meet hers. 
“But… I’d like to accept your offer, from before.”
That rouses Loki’s interest, the dreary fog that had been hanging over his head since they arrived lifting by just the slightest as his curiosity wins over. “My offer…?”
“Back in the Void, you asked me what I was going to do next.” Sylvie lowers her hand from the goblet onto Loki’s, his fingers tightening instinctively around the stem of the goblet. “I said I didn’t know.”
Loki knew all of this, of course. This very conversation, everything he had said, everything she had answered with, had been seared into his memory. But, in what was an unusual move for him, he chose to remain silent, letting Sylvie speak. 
“You asked, if…” Sylvie pauses for just a moment, darting out the tip of her tongue to wet her lips — more of a nervous gesture than anything. “…If maybe we could figure that out together.”
Loki swallows harshly — his own nervous gesture — remaining remarkably patient and quiet as he waits for Sylvie to continue. 
“And I answered with ‘maybe,’” Sylvie continues, looking as lost to the memory of that day as he was. “If the offer still stands… I’d like to change my answer to yes.”
Loki laughs which, in most cases, isn’t the most ideal of responses to such a statement. But even through the nerves that Sylvie doesn’t know how to handle does she hear the clear relief in his laughter, the warm smile on his face helping to squash down those nerves better than any spoken words ever could. 
“The offer still, as it always will do, stands.”
…But then again, she supposed those words helped, too.
* * *
A few hours later, with no TVA in sight, no snowstorm in sight, and too many drinks for them to count, it was fair enough to say that they were tip-toeing the line between ‘pleasantly tipsy’ and… downright hammered. 
“I thought you were the one that was supposed to be dragging me up the stairs.” Loki’s words come out a little more slurred than they sounded in his head, the both of them hanging onto each other for support as they climb the old wooden stairs that looked a lot more slanted than they did earlier. In fact, they seemed to be doing a remarkable job of disobeying the laws of physics and jumping away from where he intended to place his foot. 
“Says the guy leaning half of his weight on me,” Sylvie huffs, her free hand pressed against the wall for support. And… to stop them from tumbling down the stairs. 
Loki grunts — a terribly well-thought-out argument — taking a moment at the top of the stairs to wait for his vision to stop swimming. “Didn’t I ask you to stop me from pouring any more drinks?”
“You did,” Sylvie agrees. “You also then proceeded to tell me that ‘one more drink couldn’t hurt’, called the waitress over for the last of their wine stores, and then nearly stabbed that wannabe knight who started getting grabby with me.”
“He deserved worse,” Loki mumbled darkly, letting Sylvie guide him towards the room she had booked for them. “Not that I had to do anything, of course. By the time I had gotten my daggers out, you had already dented his cranium with your tankard.”
“I’ve dealt with worse,” Sylvie replies, which Loki doesn’t like the sound of at all. “Remember those ‘animalistic natures’ you talked about earlier? Well, let’s just say I’ve gotten used to dealing with people like that whilst on the run.”
Sylvie just barely manages to shove the steel key into the door’s lock, the scratch marks etched into the area of the handle around the hole itself indicating that most other drunk patrons of this Inn had dealt with the same problem. She all but leans her entire weight against the heavy door to push it open, nearly stumbling into the room and dragging Loki with her when the door finally gives way. 
“Ah -- what a sight for sore eyes!” Loki crows in delight as he lays eyes on the king-sized bed pushed against the wall to the left of the doorway. The bed faced yet another fireplace — being the only room in the Inn for hire that included a fireplace, situated atop the fireplace downstairs in the pub and sharing its chimney. Renting such a room would usually cost a pretty penny… but having access to magic beyond most’s understanding made it much easier to get the five-finger discount. 
“You know, I genuinely can’t remember the last time I slept in a bed,” Loki comments as he teeters towards the fireplace. He gracefully —by which he means he just let’s gravity do most of the work — drops down onto his knees in front of the fireplace, using a burst of his magic to turn the pile of freshly cut logs and tinder within into a roaring fire within seconds. “I’m guessing the same could be said for you?”
“Depends what you classify as a bed.” Sylvie finishes up locking the door to the room, tucking the key into her pocket as she turns towards the room. “Most times, I was lucky to be lying on something even somewhat soft. Other times… well, let’s just say that sleep was often a luxury I couldn’t afford.”
Loki grimaces as he pushes himself up until he was standing, walking over to the bed and collapsing down onto it with an exhausted sounding huff, letting his hands rest atop his stomach as his back hits the — mostly — clean sheets underneath him. 
“Suppose I shouldn’t expect much craftsmanship from Earth’s eighty century,” Loki comments on the state of the bed. Sylvie walks over to the bed, entering Loki’s frame of vision as she stands over him. 
“At least I have a nice view, though.” He accompanies the comment with a sly smile, which gets him a roll of the eyes and a less than vicious kick to his leg hanging off the edge of the bed in response.
“Come on, budge up,” Sylvie indicates to where he was situated directly in the middle of the bed, motioning for him to move with a flick of her wrist. 
Loki grunts with the little effort it takes to move himself over to one side of the bed. He closes his eyes against the comforting yet too bright light of the fire, feeling the dip of the bed as Sylvie takes a seat on the edge of it. 
“Hey,” she tries to get his attention, tapping at his thigh until he creaks an eye open to look at her. “You do still have the TemPad, right?” 
Loki answers by digging into his oversized coat pocket, pulling out the TemPad and holding it out in the air for her to take. She takes it from his hands, running a thumb along the smoothed marble edge, watching as it lights up at her touch. 
“I think it likes you more than me,” Loki mumbled from beside her. 
“Mmm… not sure it has the capability to pick favorites.”
“If it’s smart enough to recognize us as its owners, then it might be able to differentiate between us and have a preference to which of us is wielding it.”
“Well… I have used it more than you,” Sylvie points out, and on cue, the surface of the TemPad lights up, as if it were agreeing with her words. 
Loki pushes himself up from the bed, matching Sylvie as he sits at the edge of the bed. He runs a tired hand over equally tired eyes, glancing down to the TemPad in her hands. “Why’d you use Mo -- the other TemPad, instead of that one?”
If Sylvie noticed him tripping over his words, she didn’t mention it. “We said it’d be best to grab a backup, didn’t we? And… you seemed a little, uh… shaken at the time, to get the TemPad back off you.”
“Right…” Loki drops his gaze down to his lap, seemingly shrinking in on himself. 
“Loki… I’m so sorry,” Sylvie says gently, trying to find the best way to approach the subject they had both seemingly been avoiding. “I know that Mobius, he was… he was a good friend.”
“No, not a good friend.” Loki shakes his head, glancing up at her. “He was… my only friend.”
The pain on his face briefly gives way to one of panic, quickly attempting to backtrack on what he had just said. “Oh, uh, that’s not to say that you’re not my friend, it’s just that -- I’ve always seen as you as something different than—”
Sylvie smiles at his awkward and bumbling words, reaching out to place her hand on his upper arm. “I know. I get what you’re trying to say.”
Loki relaxes at that, sighing quietly to himself in relief. “If it hadn’t been for Mobius, I would have been reset moments after my so-called ‘trial.’ He… broke me down and pulled me apart, forcing me to realize truths about myself that I had always tried to run from. Meeting him, just like meeting you, it… it changed me. Or… or more so it made me realize that I was capable of changing myself.”
Sylvie’s hand moves up and down his arm in soothing motions, the comforting touch forcing his eyes shut. “He’s still out there, Loki. We’ll find him again.”
“How am I supposed to face him again?” Loki asks desperately. “How can I look him in the eye, knowing what I’ve done to him?”
“You need to stop seeing that variant as him. Just like me and you, that Mobius and the one we know are nearly different people entirely. Different choices made, different lives lived. Who we are -- who we become -- is more than just what we are at birth. That Mobius made the choice to pick up the Pruning Stick. That Mobius made the choice to threaten us, not the Mobius you know. You didn’t kill Mobius; you killed a man that was holding a weapon to my neck, and I… I can’t even begin to thank you for that.”
Loki shoots her an incredulous look. “You can’t have really thought I would have let him…?”
“I thought it might have been a possibility.” Sylvie shrugs her shoulders, Loki’s baffled expression only growing stronger at her response. 
“Mobius is… he’s the only — and the greatest  — friend I’ve ever had,” Loki begins, placing a hand over hers on his shoulder. “But you? You’re…”
Loki wasn’t even sure he had a word to describe what Sylvie was to him. None that he knew quite seemed to fit, didn’t quite match the way he felt when he thought about her. She was… himself, both the good parts and the bad parts. She was… she was him, and yet she wasn’t. She was… a force of nature that came crashing into his life as much as he had been chasing it, stirring up trouble and chaos wherever she went, and yet, left behind the seeds of new life, of new beginnings once the destruction had cleared. 
She was… the driving force that made him want to be someone different. She was the only person he wanted by his side as they took on this seemingly impossible task. 
She was…
“...My Glorious Purpose.”
There was a split second where Loki wondered if perhaps those words weren’t the best to use. Sure, he had mentioned his ‘Glorious Purpose’ before, and since the future version of himself had brought it up, he… kind of just assumed that the idea of a ‘Glorious Purpose’ was something that was sort of built into every Loki. Now though, when he thought about it from an outside perspective, the use of ‘my’ seemed to suggest a claim of ownership over Sylvie, which was certainly not the impression he wanted to give off. 
He stops worrying about it when the concerned frown on her face slowly softens, changing to one of disbelief at his statement. He can’t help but give her a small smile at the sight of her shock, looking back down to his lap with that half-turned smile slipping away. 
“I’m not too sure when it changed,” he admits to her. “I suppose that… most other versions of my ‘Glorious Purpose’ always involved me ruling over… something. Asgard… Midgard… The Nine Realms; then, when I discovered the power they held, The TVA. Same goal, just… different circumstances. And you know what the strange thing is?”
Sylvie was still a bit too dumbstruck from Loki’s previous admission, only able to stare avidly at him as he speaks. 
“I didn’t even want them. Not really,” Loki says, and then he laughs, the reality of his entire life now just seeming so incredibly absurd as he says it out loud. 
What had his obsession over ruling truly been about? Did he think it would guide him towards happiness? Would he felt like he had achieved something he had earned through blood, sweat, and tears? That he took what should have been his, not something he had to take? 
No… no, it wasn’t any of that. It was…
It was from feeling out of place. 
He always had, right from the beginning. Always this feeling of… something not right. He had been the, quite literal, black sheep in the family. Watching his father sat atop the throne, witnessing the grandeur that came with his father’s title, hearing of the stories that led to his place on the throne… and then seeing the way his brother was co closely following in the footsteps of their father. 
Thor was the oldest. He might have been a prince, just as Thor was, but he always knew that Thor was the one who would step up to the throne when the time came. He was… a backup, it sometimes felt like. The only time he truly felt wanted, and like he was right where he was meant to be, was whenever he was learning magic, paying rapt attention to his mother as she showed him all she knew. 
Then, to find out who he truly was… What little claim he had to the title, what little claim he had to being an Asgardian, of being Son of Odin and Frigga was… gone. He was nothing more than a little ice runt, saved from abandonment to act as a token of peace in the hopes of ending both his father’s wars.
What if he had known? What if, like Sylvie, he had been told of who he really was? Would events still transpire as they had? Would Sylvie had done the same as him, if she had never been taken from her timeline? It seemed unlikely. For one, she seemed — at least on the outside — remarkably unphased about being adopted when he had brought it up back on Lamentis. And for another... she had spent her entire life running away from an organization that ruled over everything that has existed, or ever will exist; it wasn’t all too surprising that the thought of ruling over anything didn’t really appeal to her. 
And that was what it boiled down to. Him, desperately trying to grab hold of power in a bid for control, to prove to others and to himself that he deserved to be something -- someone -- other than a pawn in his father’s wars. And Sylvie… she had run, stolen, and killed her way through universe after universe, all to send a message to the TVA that she was more than just a pawn in their game that had made her own move, not theirs. 
They both felt the need to prove that they belonged. Just... In different ways. 
“How…” Sylvie tries to start speaking, clearing her throat with a shake of her head. “How am I your Glorious Purpose? Why am I…?”
“Not really something I can control,” Loki gestures to himself with a strained smile. “One moment, all I care about is finding my way back to the TVA, getting in front of the Time Keepers, and taking their place on the throne. Then… there you were. You were… persistent, and determined, and… me, yet… not. You were trying to destroy the TVA — the very thing I was trying to rule — and… I only had to know you for a day for everything to change. For me to change. I didn’t care about having a throne. I didn’t care about being in control. For once, I felt like I truly belonged — and that was whenever I was with you. I knew that… I could let myself be happy, so long as you’re happy.”
Sylvie has to look away from the intensity of his gaze, trying to wrap her head around everything he had just said. “I, um… I’m starting to think this is the wine talking.”
Loki chuckled lazily at that, dropping gracefully back down to the bed. “Hmm… wine does usually make me talk a lot.”
“You always talk a lot.”
“More so than usual,” Loki grumbles. “My point still stands; just because it’s the wine talking doesn’t mean it isn’t the truth.”
Sylvie glances back to him over her shoulder, drinking in the peaceful look on his face as he lies there with his eyes closed, looking about ready to drop off. She sighs quietly, looking back to the TemPad in her hands with a thoughtful frown. 
“I wish I knew how to tell you the way I feel for you,” she admits to the quiet of the room. Loki’s eyes pop open, looking up to her in surprise. 
“It seems like you’re better at all this than I am,” Sylvie continues, shuffling around on the bed so she could face him better. “Feels like… I have some catching up to do.”
“We both do,” Loki reassures her, pushing himself up onto his arms. “But that’s okay. We’ll figure things out at our own pace.”
“But what if I…” Sylvie trails off, face twisting in frustration. “…What if I never get there?”
“You will—”
“But you don’t know that,” Sylvie stresses, cutting him off. “And it’s... it’s not fair to you, for me to be stuck the way I am…”
“Sylvie, a few days before I met you, I was using a device to carve out and copy the information of a man’s eye.” Sylvie reels back slightly at this tidbit of information, but —thankfully— doesn’t ask about it any further. “And, you know… a friend once told me I could be whoever, or whatever, I wanted to be. We are capable of change, Sylvie -- especially when it’s a change we’re striving to achieve. And if you never get there?” Loki shrugs his shoulders. “That’s okay, too. I know you’ll find your own way to express how you feel.”
Sylvie shakes her head at the assurance in his voice. She wasn’t sure what it was she had done that had made Loki so… devoted to her. “Sometimes I’ll look at you, and I’ll think of something, and… and I just can’t say those thoughts out loud. And I should. If I can think them, why can’t I say them?”
“Sylvie… there’s a hell of a difference between thinking something, and acting on it. The way that I feel for you, it’s… it’s not easy for me to admit, either. It doesn’t feel all that long ago that I mocked people for being in love. And now, in their shoes, I know it’s more complicated then—”
Loki stopped himself when he caught sight of the wide-eyed look on Sylvie’s face, his mouth frozen partway open in mid-sentence. Loki might not have picked up on the significance of what he had just said out loud, but for Sylvie, those few words were echoing around in her head. It was almost funny that, seconds after saying he too struggled to admit how he feels, he had just dropped the biggest admission possible on her without even realizing it. 
“What did you just say?” Sylvie whispers, eyes still wide as saucers. 
Loki frowned, ready to ask which part of what he had just said, when the realization clobbers him around the head. He… he had never said that out loud, had he? But… but she knew, didn’t she? She had to — especially after sharing their emotions with each other as they delved into their memories, re-watching their moment on Lamentis through the power of enchantment. 
“Ah…” Loki got out, trying not to let the panic take over. “That… that probably wasn’t the best time to say that, was it?”
Sylvie’s continuous silence and lack of a reaction other than just staring at him wasn’t doing much to calm his nerves. “Okay, I know I said it’s fine if you can’t express how you feel, but I’d really appreciate it if you said something right about now.”
“Did you mean it?” Sylvie asks, the vulnerability in her voice giving Loki pause. “Are you… are you really…?”
“In love with you?” Loki fills in the words Sylvie couldn’t seem to get out. Sylvie sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth at the words, slowly nodding her head. A small smile flickers at the corner of Loki’s lips, looking away sheepishly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Loki glances up at her from his ducked gaze, watching as she takes this in. She teeters back on the bed, eyes darting around the room in what Loki hoped was closer to something like shock than just downright panic. 
“Please, don’t -- don’t freak out.” Loki wanted to reach out to her, but wasn’t sure how well-received his touch would be right now. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you—”
“Say it again.”
Loki blinked at her in surprise, the response not what he was expecting. “I… excuse me?”
“Say it again,” Sylvie repeats firmly, looking him straight in the eye. 
Loki schools his confused expression, meeting her searching gaze as he repeats the one thing he never thought he’d get to say. “I’m in love with you.”
Sylvie’s eyes narrow for a moment, her eyes scanning across his face for some kind of tell that he was lying — some form of manipulation, one which would be the cruelest kind. “Again,” She repeats, unable to keep the shakiness out of her voice. 
“I’m in love with you.” It was almost scary how easy it was coming to him, now. It was like stating the weather, or what he had eaten for dinner. Just… a matter of fact. An absolute truth — and he was finding he enjoyed saying it as much as he enjoyed knowing she had now heard those words fall from his lips.
Loki wasn’t sure what about him saying it for the third time made Sylvie believe it, but she seemed to find whatever it was she was looking for from him. Sylvie rushes towards him, grabbing hold of the lapels of his coat and pulling him towards her until their lips met. It was already much too warm in the room from the heat radiating from the fireplace, so Loki was all too eager to assist Sylvie as she begins yanking his coat off. 
They break apart for the briefest of moments to pull his arms out from the sleeves of the coat, balling it up and throwing it carelessly to the side, nearly setting it alight as it lands near the fire. Loki happily follows the directions of her push, falling back onto the bed and savoring the feeling of her body pressed against his as her weight falls onto him. 
“You’re right -- I can find another way to express the way I feel,” Sylvie pants a few tantalizing inches from his mouth. It takes all of Loki’s focus to listen to what she’s saying and not just surge up and reclaim her lips like his body was screaming at him to do. “And I’ve always been more a woman of actions than words, anyway.”
Next Chapter - - - >
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thetypedwriter · 3 years
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Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review
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Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that all of my in-depth reviews contain spoilers. 
Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review by Angeline Boulley 
Well, this book review came quicker than I thought it would (which after weeks since my last published review for an actual novel that may sound absurd, but I promise it isn’t). 
There’s a lot of great things about this book and a lot of really important representation, but I also found it to be an incredible slog to trudge through. 
Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley is the story of a girl by the name of Daunis Fontaine who finds herself stuck between two worlds: her Fontaine side, also known as her zhaaganaash or white side, and her Native side, or known as her Anishinaabe side, or even more specifically, Ojibwe side. 
The debut novel from Boulley mainly describes Daunis’ struggle between these two worlds, the important people in them, and the war within herself to follow her heart, her gut, and her mind. 
In the background of this identity struggle, or perhaps largely influenced by it, Daunis finds herself inexplicably tangled up in a secret federal investigation into a specific type of meth being produced in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula that affects people not only in her community, but other Native communities as well. 
Suddenly finding herself becoming a spy, Daunis starts to learn and keep secrets, those in regards to the investigation as well as those regarding her feelings for fellow investigator-Jamie Johnson-an undercover narcotics cop posing as the cute new highschooler in town. 
As Daunis deals with her own internal struggles, her community, her relationships, and her burgeoning romance, her past, future, and present all collide and come to a head in this new novel. 
Now. Reading this summary, you might be thinking: this book sounds awesome! Love? Undercover cops? Drugs? Mystery? It has everything. 
And you’d be right. 
When I first read the jacket cover for this novel I knew it was a book I was inevitably going to read. Everything from the gorgeous cover art, to the intriguing summary, to the representation of Native Americans, I was completely drawn in. 
Too bad I didn’t like it very much. 
I will start off by saying that I think this book is incredible in its realistic depiction of the Ojibwe experience and I know how important it is to increase representation of all kinds of people and backgrounds in literature, especially YA literature. 
Boulley did an absolutely stunning job of relaying the nitty-gritty of the Ojibwe community-the elders, the geography, the food, the stigma, the finances, the politics, the reputation, the racism, the prejudice, the community, the love, the healing, and so much more. 
I always am in awe when authors utilize the golden rule of write what you know. Per the back jacket of the novel, Boulley herself states that she is an enrolled member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians and an active storyteller of the Ojibwe community. 
This is beyond incredible. Having an accurate and active portrayal of people writing and drawing from their own experiences are powerful and significant. I could taste, feel, and see how clear and how real Boulley made the novel. 
I questioned a lot of things during this read, but the Ojibwe community in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula was not one of them. From vocabulary to the extreme details depicting Sugar Island to the care and craft when talking about specific ceremonies like funerals, Boulley did an outstanding job of bringing in what she knows from her own experience and that of her community in order to breathe life into these pages. 
This was by far the best part of the novel for me. 
On the back jacket, Boulley also states that she was a former Director of the Office of Indian Education at the U.S. Department of Education. While I did not know this until a few minutes ago when I sat down to write this review, I am in no way surprised. 
The book was extremely intelligent. I could viscerally tell that Boulley knows her stuff and does her research. Everything from biology and chemistry processes and vocabulary, to mushroom identification, to legal matters like having an underage informant, politics regarding becoming a member of the Ojibwe Tribe, and due process of the law regarding FBI cases was very clear cut, very detailed, and obviously very accurate. 
I appreciated how much time and effort was put into this, even if I did find a lot of it bone dry and dull, I still could appreciate the time, effort, and knowledge to make sure that everything in the novel was precise and correct. 
That being said, it also made the book come across almost like an informational pamphlet at times, or like I was reading non-fiction. I understand being accurate, and I applaud her for that, but I don’t need or want five pages of in-book description of how one of these processes work. Just give me the bare-bones outline and I will go from there and look it up more if I so desire. 
This brings me to my first critique of this book and a large reason it was so tedious to get through: it was mind-numbingly long. 
Now. I just read a 2,000 page fanfiction not that long ago. That is long, you could argue, and you would be right. But, none of All of the Young Dudes was a bore to get through (sad, sure, but not boring), whereas whole sections of Firekeeper’s Daughter were too dragged out and too explicitly explained that I inevitably got bored and nodded off. 
The pace was too slow and too bogged down with unimportant details, like Daunis’ daily visits to the elders or her overthinking every single thing, or her making lists of all the things she doesn’t know (these are long lists). 
She often spends whole pages grieving about her Uncle David as well as her best friend Lily, and while understandable and realistic in real life, it was not fun nor productive to read about over and over and over again. 
Take for example, the very beginning of the book. It takes over 100 pages for Daunis to realize the new-boy-next-door isn’t who he says he is and that he’s actually an undercover cop here to investigate a new strain of meth and asks for her help. 
Over 100 pages of set up. 
It was so goddamn boring. 
It got better once she became involved with the investigation, but then so did the whining, the overthinking, and the reflecting. The first 100 pages could have been condensed to 20. No joke, I would have gotten the same exposition out of that I did. 
In addition, despite things taking so long or not serving a purpose, I was often confused about what was happening, which is an overall unpleasant experience. Boulley simultaneously describes everything and yet nothing at the same time.
 The reason for this discrepancy is because she often used native language to describe feelings, events, people, etc and while some of the words I learned over time, often the words left me confused or bewildered. 
I appreciate the use of native language, but it also left me with big gaps while reading or made me struggle to put pieces together as they were happening. 
The pace of the novel overall was incredibly bad. Things either took 12 years or two minutes. The actual plot to show up? 12 Years. Daunis and Jamie to fall in love classic YA style? Two minutes. Daunis to find Uncle David’s notebook? 12 years. The final confrontation of the bad guys? Two minutes. 
With any event, it either felt sluggish or way too quick and mashing these two together in one novel was disorienting and frustrating, not to mention it made me not want to read. 
Additionally, while I generally thought the plot was very interesting, who doesn’t like undercover cop stories? I thought all of the characters were very forgettable or downright shells. 
Daunis was...a textbook female character in my eyes. The way she spouted off knowledge like the periodic table to fall asleep or reciting the scientific method wasn’t cool or new, it was irritating.
To me she wasn’t real. 
She was someone’s idea of a female character who seemed cool, but wasn’t. Nothing about Daunis made me think of her as a great character. If anything, she just seemed like an empty vessel I was reading the book through, like the book was happening to me instead (cough cough Mary Sue). 
Some of you may be upset with this statement, and that’s fine, but other than her love of science, her knowledge of geography, and her ties to the community, nothing about Daunis was a real person. 
She hardly had friends, I don’t recall learning anything she liked or disliked (other than Jamie, hockey, and running) , and she was entirely surmised of the people who had left her and the identity struggle she had been born with. I don’t mean to undermine people who struggle with their identity, I know that’s important, but there is more to people than just that. 
None of the other characters are frankly worth mentioning. 
You might ask, what about Jamie? The shadowy, scarred love interest?
*Shrugs*
He’s fine. Genuinely that’s all I can say about him. We don’t even learn his real name as Jamie Johnson is a fake. All I know is that he’s got curly hair, a scar, and doesn’t know who he is. It’s hard to like a character when the character themselves have no idea of who they are. 
The other characters either die or are in the background to progress the plot along. 
To be fair, it’s a good plot. It’s intriguing, it’s mysterious, and I learned more than I ever thought I would about meth and mushrooms, but it doesn’t make up for the dead-end characters or the pacing issues. 
I didn’t hate it, but I also didn’t like it. I guess I can say that I feel indifferent about this book, although the representation of Native Americans bumps it up slightly for me from being dead average. 
The storytelling isn’t spectacular, even if the idea is promising, but if you have been searching for representation like this in YA I can see how this book would be much more impactful and important and I’m happy to have it as a part of the YA collective. 
Recommendation: At the end of the day, this novel is a true smorgasbord. I love the representation, the draws from Boulley’s real life, and the intelligence, but I didn’t see any of the characters as real people, the pacing issues made it hard to gain and keep interest going, and the dialogue often came across to me as someone's warped version of what teenager’s sound like. 
Score: 6/10
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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Patreon Membership Drive: Turbo Championship Hyper Fighting Edition!
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Hello all you happy people! For those wondering “who the hell is this.” I”m Jake Mattingly. I review animation and comics here on this tumblr 5 times a week, and love doing so. I do so by recapping an episode of an animated show or a volume of a comic piece by piece, how detailed depends on the work and how condensed it needs to be, analyzing the episode and sometimes throwing in some jokes because i’m a silly weirdo and tis my nature. 
 So far i’ve been able to scrape by with the help of my patreon’s kev and emma, with Kev suplimenting that iwth various comissions (I.e. paying me to review a specific episode of a show much like someone would comissoin). But I don’t want to place my entire finacial future in the hands of two people so last month I lauched my patreon membership, trying to get people to join my patreon to releive some of the pressure on them. And not a person signed on during the first month. 
But I realize a large part of that is I simply didn’t advertise propertly, not really explaning what it is I do, what they get, or throwing in any extra incentives for signing up apart from “If so many people pledge to my patreon i’ll do X review” Which is still the main thrust of my campaign but I realized I need MORE than that to give you all proper money for your buck, especailly with Tumblr trying to monteize in the most half assed way possible making people presumibly more wary of spending money on me. 
So for this promo i’m going into what it is I review exactly, how to sign up for my patreon and how any of that works, what you get out of it, and various juicy stretch goals i’m hoping ya’ll can help me reach so
WHAT IS IT YOU DO EXACTLY?
As I mentioned above I review animation and comics, more animation than comics. My meat and potatoes are Disney Duck works, primarily the 2017 reboot and the Don Rosa and Carl Barks comics. For the former i’ve done retrospectives on Lena’s arc, the Della storyline from season 2 and ALL the Season 2 storylines, the last one currently in progress. I intend to review the entire series, the lackluster tie in comics, and the this duckburg life podcast, though the last one has some strings attached we’ll get to under my goals.  I”ve also been reviewing various Carl Barks first apperances and most importantly doing a complete retrospective on Don Rosa’s masterwork the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. 
I also review certain shows week to week, almost entirely Disney as aside from the True Colors Debacle they have the most reliable schedule and announce release dates farther in advance than Cartoon Network and Nick which just sorta pop up announce things. I covered all of season 3 of Ducktales and season 2 of amphibia (With season 3 coverage coming in october) and i’m currently reviewing Owl House every week till that hiatus hits. 
Finally i’m currently looking at all the Tom Luictor episodes of star vs the forces of evil tracking both Tom’s character arc and the show’s steady decline straight into the dumps. 
Comics wise i’m more sporadic but in addition to duck comics stuff, I’ve also been doing a retrospective on the Scott Pilgrim franchise: all 6 volumes of the comic, those reviews avaliable now and in two weeks from this post, just in time for  the video game and movie anniversaries to finish things up. I recently started another one for the comic book Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye, I intend to finish one I did for New X-Men, and I have a few in my mind’s eye I want to do soon on John Ostrandre’s Suicide Squad run, Justice League International, and Mega Man that i’m going to do pilots for to see if anyone’s interested. 
Finally recently i’ve started doing quick thoughts, quick reviews on recent stuff from trailers to full on movies I don’t have to cover normally. 
So What Is Your Patreon?
Patreon is a site where creators can get paid for work and can put up exclusive content and what not. You pledge anywhere from a dollar a month, and become one of my patrons and help me do this blog for a living. I genuinely love writing about media, analyzing it and making weird jokes, and this lets me do that as my job and my passion. I simply don’t want to put finacing that on the backs of only two people. 
So What’s In It For Me?
Unlike Tumblr itself I feel my supporters deserve to get the most bang for their buck. As such Patreon Membership starts at JUST ONE DOLLAR. That’s right for a dollar a month, 12 bucks a year so the price of a movie, you get access to my occasoinal exclusive reviews, exclusive poles once I get more than two members so that’s actually sensical to do to vote on reviews, and to pick a theatrical short when i review a bunch of them for character birthdays or holidays or just cause. 
In addition to these though i’ve decided to sweeten the pot. ON SIGN UP ANY PATREON OF ANY TIER GETS ONE FREE REVIEW OF ANY SINGLE EPISODE OF TELEVISION OR ISSUE OF A COMIC BOOK. That’s right for just one buck, you get a review of your choice. Whatever you want. You want to force me to watch something you hate so someone else can bitch about it for you? Go on about an episode yo ulove? shine a light on something obscure? Well i’m your man and for ONE BUCK A MONTH, you can get that. Whatever you want put on my schedule as soon as I have room and your payment’s gone through. 
And if you want me to review stuff on a more regular basis, five bucks a month gets you a review a month, same permaiters as above along with said free review. I will PERSONALLY make sure there’s a space on the schedule every month for your patreon review and review whatever you want no matter how good, bad or stuppid. 
But that’s not ALL. 
STRETCH GOALS:
To explain these better than what I did next time: My stretch goals are goals on my patreon: if I hit a certain number of Patreons I will review (Insert Thing Here) And these are meaty projects too: full season reviews, retrospectives and what have you and something’s unlocked with each person who signs up, adjusted from orignally basing it on price. So your dollar a month not only gets you your own review, but also will get my solemn vow to review a bunch of other thigns, and the more people who sign up the more thigns I’ll add to my plate. Not only that but just for this pledge drive i’m adding a bunch of super neat drive exclusvie stretch goals that will VANISH AT THE END OF AUGUST. dosen’t mean I won’t EVER do these reviews, but it does mean i’ll probably sit on them a bit. 
TLDR: You singing up gets me to guarantee to review some extra stuff. 
SO WHAT ARE THE GOALS. 
I”m glad you asked. Each one is based on a person joining, so 
REGULAR PATREON GOALS THAT AREN’T GOING TO EXPIRE BUT ARE STILL PRETTY NEAT:
One goal for each new patreon so
1 New Patreon: Starting off light but still juicy, I will review the complete season one of Amphibia across two posts. I’ve already rewatched the season recently, so all someone has to do is sign up and i’ll get on it in septmeber in time for season 3! And that’s not the only show as i’ll also review BOTH seasons of the birdtastic show after my own heart Tuca and Bertie! 
2 New Patrons: This one’s a big lighter but you still get some neat things: for my scottaholics in the audience I will review the rest of Brian Lee O’Malley’s works so far: Lost at Sea (his first graphic novel) Seconds (his first post scott work) and Snotgirl (his first ongoing and first work he didn’t draw himself), which follow a girl trying to reclaim her soul/cat, an immature restrauntieur who discovers reality changing muschrooms, and an influencer who might of done a murder. For those who don’t really like Scott Pilgrim i’ll review a buch of paramount plus shows first seasons: Kamp Korral, the rugrats rugboot and iCarly. So if any of that sounds good get on the bus won’t you?
3 New Patrons: My juicest one and one that stands alone: I will review the complete first season of the Owl House across two posts. Every episode, every bit of lumity progressoin, every bit of foreshadowing in hindsight, all for you, all if three people join my patron. So if you want more bisexual magic, step up. 
4 New Patrons: Duck Goals Woo-Ooo! This one unlocks a review from Duck Master Carl Barks EVERY MONTH. Not only that I will be taking suggestoins from my patrons , meaning you can help decide which ones I do! And while tha’ts plenty i’m jucing this one up as getting me this far also nets a review of This Duckburg Like, the interquel podcast that’s given us our last ducktales content for what will likely be an eternity. 
5 New Patrons: Gravity Falls Retrospective! I”m not only talking both season of Alex Hirsch’s era defining masterpice, but also the side materials I have acess to: the shorts, Journal #3, and the lost legends tie in comic. I”d throw legend of the gnome gemulets in there two if I had a working 2ds or 3ds bu tas it stands this is what I got. 
6 New Patrons: Avatarverse Retrospective. No not James Cameron the Bravest Pioneer’s movie he wants to turn into a franchise despite NO ONE wanting this please stop James, we’re begging you. Of course i’m talking about Avatar the Last Airbender, the epic franchise that’s blowing up in size. This will include all three books of Avatar: The Last Airbender, All Four Books of the Legend of Korra, and all the juicy side stuff I can cover: the sequel comics for both series, the kioshi novels and the eye gougingly bad M Night Shamlyn Movie. Yes I really will   myself to that. I have not till now i’m happy that way but I will sufer for you. Speaking of suffering:
7 New Patrons: It’s a crapstravaganza!  If i’ve made it this far I clearly have enough fan support that I can fly into the eye of the crapstorm so i’m going to review some of the worst things I can think of:  * Chuck Austen’s X-Men the run that dared to ask the tough questions your coke addleed uncle you don’t let see your kids would like “What if Angel could cure AIDS with his blood and had sex with a minor while her parents watched?” “What if a rouge relgious sect tried to make Nightcrawler pope and then desingrate people with commuiion wafers in a scheme that makes no sense?” and “What if an x-man made a plant horny?”  * America: The comic that has the infamous and oft used by me line to compare it to other bad lines “What in the holy menstration are you doing here”. And it’s still not the most bonkers thing int his somehow 12 ISSUE SERIES tha twastes one of marvels best creations.  * The Prince: Aka that series HBO what farted out onto the service with no intention of renewal after realizing “Holy shit we greenlit this what is wrong with us” which is basically family guy but with the royal family. I’d say it was a somehow worse family guy but Famiily Guy once had an episode that was about 22 minutes of transphobic punchlines so as long as there isn’t an episode of that your good.  * Mordecai is a Bastard Man: Aka that arc of Regular Show that took a ship I really liked, Mordecai and CJ, and then destoryed it with cheating, attempted murder and saxophone.  *Star Vs Final Arc: Aka a look at how a once great show descended into a mess with unfinished plot lines, wasted characters and a finale so terrible it’s only topped by “Kids this is the story of how I really want you to say it’s okay to bang aunt robin” 8 New Patrons: Infinity Train, all four books and any finale movie if it happens. (Please let it happen) All aboard! 9 New Patrons: Two juicy disney retrospectives! The Incredibles (both movies and both comics series) and Darkwing Duck (Both the Boom! and Joe Books runs) Let’s get incredibly dangerous! 10 New Patrons: My highest tier for now and i’ts anothe rdouble feature and two big projects. If you get me this far, you’ve earned em: A She Ra and the Pricesses of Power Retrospective and a Bojack Horseman retrospective. The two greatest things Netflix has made back to back for life. 
And THAT’S NOT ALL... as I said I have some special stretch goals JUST FOR THIS PLEDGE DRIVE. 
SPECIAL DRIVE SPECIFIC GOALS BABY!:
These are a simple five extra projects for hitting the goals within the rest of the drive FROM AUGUST 1ST TO AUGUST 31ST. I will not add these to the regular goals for a full year if you do not reach them, so one buck helps you unlock projects that otherwise might not happen for YEARS. Like the other goals their measured by patrons but ONLY for this month sooooo
1 New Patron: Quack Pack series review! the most hated Disney Afternoon show in one big two part review. God help me. 2 New Patrons: Rise of the TMNT Retrospective: Both seasons, a movie and regular coverage on the offchance a third season hopefully gets greenlit.  3 New Patrons: Peanuts and Garfield Specials retrospective!: Retrospectives for the technicolor years long world of Peanuts specials and the shorte rlived but still neat garfield specails. All the specials plus all the animated movies for both!  4 New Patrons: Craig of the Creek-AThon: Rewatching season one and watching BOTH seasons i’ve missed since then with full reviews as well as reviews of each bomb of episodes as their released on teh app from here on out!  5 New Patrons: Steven Universe Retrospective! All 5 seasons, The Movie, Future, the comics, graphic novels and games. EVERY. THING. 
So if ANY of this sounds enticing 
STOP BY MY PATREON RIGHT HERE IN THIS LINK, SIGN UP TODAY, HELP ME GET PAID DOING WHAT I LOVE AND GET REVIEWS FOR EVERYBODY. YOU WON’T REGRET IT AND YOU’LL BE MAKING MY LIFE BETTER. 
And even if you can’t support it feedback on the goals, reblogs to get the word out and general words of encouragment are appricated so join me as I try to get at least one extra dollar a month in the span of this month. PITTER PATTER, let’s get at er!
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