#sure could affect things in ways. & in a reality here where people sure break out ''well we gotta See What Happens if we kiss/date &c''

[unproduciblesmackdown]

lavender marriage / beard for the soulmate or timeloop au

[rootedinrevisions]

Twisted Fate: Part 3

SUMMARY: As the cleanup from the storm continues, Tyler and Lex are forced to say their final goodbyes to each other.

WARNINGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

PART 1 I Part 2

I woke up to the harsh reality of another day. The weight of what I had to do pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Today would likely be the last day I could recover anything from my destroyed home. I knew Tyler had already grabbed a few things, but I needed to see for myself. I had to be sure nothing important was left behind.

I got ready for the day slowly, the dread hanging over me like a dark cloud. After a quick shower and pulling on the clothes provided by the Red Cross, I brushed my hair and put on a brave face. With a deep breath, I stepped out of my hotel room and headed down to the lobby, where the hotel offered free coffee and breakfast.

As I approached the breakfast area, I spotted Tyler and Kate, already there and chatting over their morning coffee. They seemed to be sharing a lighthearted moment, laughing softly. My heart ached a little at the sight. It was clear they shared an easy camaraderie, an affection that was evident in the way they looked at each other and the gentle touches they exchanged.

"Morning," I greeted, forcing a smile as I approached the breakfast bar.

"Hey, Lex," Tyler responded with a grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not too bad, considering," I replied, grabbing a cup of coffee and pouring myself a generous amount. I took a sip, savoring the warmth and caffeine. "What about you two?"

"Same here," Kate said, her smile friendly and open. "We're heading out to chase the storm today. It looks like it's going to be a big one."

I nodded, my mind already drifting back to the ruins of my home. "I'm going back to my house today. I want to see if there's anything else I can salvage."

Tyler's expression shifted from relaxed to concerned in an instant. He looked at me, then back at Kate, clearly torn. "Do you need help? I mean, I can come with you."

Kate gave him a look, understanding but firm. "Tyler, we need you with us for this chase. It's going to be intense."

I quickly interjected, not wanting to be a burden. "No, it's fine. I appreciate the offer, Tyler, but I'll manage. It's something I need to do on my own anyway."

Tyler's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Okay, but if you need anything, call me. I'll come as soon as I can."

I appreciated his concern, but I could see how much he wanted to go with Kate and the team. "Thanks, Tyler. I'll be fine."

As we finished our breakfast, I couldn't help but notice the way Tyler looked at Kate. There was something there, something deeper than just friendship. It stung a bit, but I knew it wasn't my place to ask. Instead, I focused on the task ahead, mentally preparing myself for the emotional toll it would take to go back to what was left of my home.

As I waited in line for one of the buses that would take me back to the town where my home had been destroyed, the weight of the day settled heavily on my shoulders. People around me murmured quietly, their faces marked with the same exhaustion and sorrow that I felt. I tried to focus on the task ahead, but my mind kept drifting back to Tyler and Kate, to the easy way they interacted, and to the storm that was drawing them away.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Tyler approaching until he was right in front of me. "Hey, Lex," he said, his voice breaking through my reverie.

I looked up, surprised to see him standing there. "Tyler? What are you doing here?"

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I thought you might need some company. I told the team I was going to sit this one out. I want to be there for you if you need it."

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying. "You're not going with them?"

Tyler shook his head. "Nope. They can handle it without me for a day. This is more important."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. I was touched by his offer, though part of me still felt a pang of guilt. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to take you away from your work."

He shrugged, his smile becoming a little more genuine. "I'm sure. Besides, you shouldn't have to go through this alone."

I felt a lump forming in my throat. I wasn't used to people going out of their way for me, and the fact that Tyler was willing to put aside his plans to help me meant more than I could express. "Thank you, Tyler. I really appreciate it."

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the parking lot. "My truck's over there. I'll get you there faster than any bus."

I stepped out of the line, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Alright. Let's go."

We walked to his truck in silence, the gravity of the day ahead of us making small talk seem pointless. Once we were on the road, I glanced over at him. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

Tyler kept his eyes on the road, but his voice was gentle. "I know. But I wanted to. You've been through enough already. If I can help make this a little easier for you, then it's worth it."

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

He glanced over and gave me a reassuring smile. "Anytime, Lex. Anytime."

As we drove toward the ruins of my home, I felt a sense of calm I hadn't expected. With Tyler by my side, I felt a little stronger, a little more capable of facing what lay ahead. For the first time in a while, I felt like I wasn't alone.

Tyler and I parked the truck a short distance from what was left of my house. The sight of the rubble, a stark contrast to the home I'd known, hit me like a punch to the gut. Tyler, ever observant, noticed my hesitation and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Take your time, Lex," he said softly. "We'll go through this together."

Nodding, I took a deep breath and stepped forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. We began sifting through the debris, starting with what had once been the living room. As we uncovered broken furniture and scattered belongings, I found myself sharing stories from my past.

"This was where I put up my Christmas tree," I said, pointing to a corner now buried under shattered glass and twisted metal. "I used mom's tattered old ornaments. The ones she insisted on using every year."

Tyler smiled, his eyes soft with understanding. "Sounds like she had a lot of sentimental value in those ornaments."

"She did," I replied, my voice tinged with nostalgia. "She said they held all our family memories."

We moved to the next room, my old bedroom. I found a framed photo of my childhood dog, Max, the glass cracked but the image still intact. "Max was my first pet. He was always there when I needed a friend."

Tyler chuckled. "Dogs have a way of being there for us, don't they?"

As we continued, I shared more stories, each one a piece of my past. But then, in what had once been the spare bedroom, I found a small jewelry box buried under the debris. I opened it with trembling hands and found my parents' wedding rings inside, still gleaming despite the chaos around them.

My breath caught in my throat as a wave of grief crashed over me. "These were... my parents' wedding rings. They never took them off."

Tyler knelt beside me, his expression gentle. "They were really special people, Lex. From the first time I met them, they welcomed me with open arms. They were always so proud of you."

"They were," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "Losing them... it was the hardest thing I've ever gone through."

For the first time since their death, I allowed myself to speak about the pain. "I felt so lost without them. I didn't know how to cope, so I pushed everyone away. Including you. I'm sorry, Tyler. I shouldn't have shut you out like I did."

He listened intently, his usually boisterous demeanor replaced by a quiet, comforting presence. "It's okay, Lex. I understand. Sometimes, when we're hurting, we don't know how to let others in."

The dam broke, and I began to sob, the weight of my grief pouring out. Tyler pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "It's alright," he murmured. "You don't have to hold it all in anymore. I'm here."

I clung to him, feeling the warmth and solidity of his embrace. For the first time in a long while, I felt safe enough to let my emotions flow freely. Tyler held me until my sobs subsided, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my feelings.

When I finally calmed down, I pulled back slightly and looked up at him. "Thank you, Tyler. I didn't realize how much I needed this."

He nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. "We all need someone to lean on sometimes. I'm glad I could be here for you."

I wiped my eyes, managing a small smile. "What about you? You always seem so strong and confident. Do you ever feel like it's too much?"

Tyler sighed, his gaze distant. "All the time. Storm chasing... it's exhilarating, but it's also dangerous. I've seen things that haunt me. And it's hard to maintain relationships when you're constantly on the move. People don't understand the risks, the obsession. I've lost friends and relationships because of it."

His vulnerability was unexpected but deeply appreciated. "I'm sorry, Tyler. I didn't realize it was that tough for you."

He shrugged, a hint of his usual bravado returning. "It's the life I chose. But sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it. If maybe I'm chasing the wrong kind of storm."

I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You're not alone, Tyler. Whatever storms we're facing, we'll get through them together. And I mean, you've got the best crew I know. You couldn't have better people around you."

He smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes. "Thanks, Lex. That means a lot."

We sat there for a moment, amidst the ruins of my past, finding solace in each other's presence. In that shared silence, I felt a flicker of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

I turned and took one last, lingering look at the remnants of my house, my heart heavy with a mix of sorrow and resignation. I turned to Tyler, who was watching me with a gentle, understanding expression.

"What's next?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Tyler glanced around, then back at me. "How about we take a break? There's a park nearby. We could use some fresh air."

I nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "That sounds nice."

We made their way to the park, the silence between us comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. Once we arrived, we found a bench under the shade of a large oak tree. The park was quiet, with only a few people scattered about, giving us the solitude we needed.

We sat side by side, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. For a while, we talked about lighter topics, sharing stories from our past and reminiscing about happier times. I found myself laughing at Tyler's anecdotes, momentarily forgetting the weight of my current situation.

Just as I was starting to really relax, Tyler's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered, his tone immediately softening. "Hey, Kate. What's up?"

I listened to the conversation, my heart sinking as I noticed the concern in Tyler's voice. He spoke to Kate with a tenderness that was unmistakable, his eyes lighting up at the sound of her voice.

"Yeah, I can help with that," Tyler said, nodding as he listened. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll be there."

As he ended the call, my suspicions were confirmed. The way Tyler talked to Kate, the softness in his voice, and the concern in his eyes—it was clear he had feelings for her. I felt a pang of jealousy and sadness, realizing I had to accept that Tyler had moved on.

Tyler turned to me, his expression apologetic. "Kate needs help with some equipment. I should go give her a hand."

I forced a smile, trying to hide my disappointment. "Of course. Go ahead. She needs you."

Tyler hesitated for a moment, studying my face. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I just need a little more time here."

He nodded, though he seemed reluctant to leave. "If you need anything, just call me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Tyler," I said softly. "I appreciate everything you've done."

He gave me one last, lingering look before standing up. "Take care, Lex. I'll see you around."

As Tyler walked away, I watched him go, my heart aching with a mix of emotions. I knew I had to accept that Tyler's life had moved in a different direction, one that didn't include me. The realization was painful, but it was a step I needed to take to begin healing and moving forward.

Sitting alone on the park bench, I let myself feel the full weight of her emotions. I knew the road ahead would be challenging, but I also knew I had the strength to navigate it. And while Tyler had moved on, I would find my own path, one step at a time.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

[axelsagewrites]

Ramsay Bolton*Appreciate You

Pairing: ramsay x f!commoner!reader

Kintober Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Word count: 1148

Warnings: kidnap, dubcon, kidnapping, praise, questionable intensions. threats, restraints, fingering, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“People will realise I’m gone,” you tried to sound tough, but your voice came out more like a whimper. “They’ll come looking for me,” you cried out as the hooded man paced the room.

You weren’t sure where you were just that this chamber was cold and that the rusty cuffs around your wrist were keeping you from leaving the bed. There were only three candles and the longer you waited, heart pounding and a chill beginning to set in, you wondered if they would burn out before you could escape.

“I wouldn’t be so sure darling,” the man said, stopping his paces to sit in the sole 231q

 across from the bed. It was almost as if he’d made his cloak too big so that his hood covered all but his lower face but still you could see a smirk on his lips, “I’ve been watching you for a while now. You didn’t even notice did you?” he asked and you shook your head no, afraid to even speak, “No and why would you? after all you’re used to no one watching you,” he paused for a moment before leaning in, resting his elbows on his knees, “No one appreciating you,”

His words sent shivers down your spine, “What do you want from me?”

“All I want,” he said slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, “is you. your touch,” he said, his hand reaching out to slowly stroke up your arm. You tried to jerk away only to be met with the sounds of metal clinking at the mystery man’s chuckle, “your affection even. After all us bastards have to stick together,”

“Who are you?” you asked, your eyebrows knitting together as you wondered if you’d heard that voice before. He paused for a moment before his hand went to his hood, pulling the fabric off his head, “Ramsay?” you asked, your voice a whisper as you stared at him in shock.

“In the flesh,” he said, standing from his chair to sit on the edge of your bed, “What a pretty little thing you are. You know at first, I thought your beauty was impossible. Perhaps only so sightly from a distance but now,” he said, his fingers stroking your cheek making you flinch, “I realise the men around simply have no taste,”

You hated the way your skin grew hot. They were not sweet words. They were twisted and dark and tainted with his faint smirk but still they made it hard to look away from him. “Where am I?” you whispered.

“Somewhere no one can hurt you,” he whispered back, almost smiling you notice but not quite. Still his words made it hard not to laugh when the cold metal around your wrists brought you to reality. Ramsay leaned down, his warm breath fanning over your cold cheeks as he pushed the hair out of your face, “Don’t be afraid sweetheart,” he assured, voice dripping with tenderness, “I treat my pets very well,”

“I’m not a pet,” you tried to argue, to be defiant, not to fall for his tricks.

Ramsay’s eyes darkened, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair making you gasp, “Did I say you could speak?” he barked before his lips suddenly crashed onto yours. you gasped into the kiss which only allowed him to deepen it.

Your wrists tugged on the restraints, metal clanking as Ramsay removed his cloak, tossing it to the side without breaking his kiss. His fist tightened around your hair making you wince however once you felt yourself kissing back his grip released.

His lips left yours only to trail harsh marks and bites down your neck to the neckline of your dress. Without warning his hands took hold of the fabric, tearing it in two. You gasped, the cold air washing over your body making your nipples harden.

His hands took hold of your breasts, squeezing them as he moved to rest his legs over yours, his hard cock evident through his trousers. You gasped when he pinched your sensitive buds, rolling them between your fingers.

You mentally cursed the wetness growing in between your legs, your thighs instinctively clamping together. this however made Ramsay smirk, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” he asked, a glimmer in his eye.

“No,” you said meekly but when his hand wrapped around your throat you found yourself stuttering for words.

“Never,” he cut your stammers off, speaking slow as if chastising a child, “lie to me again. I will always know,” he scolded, and you nodded quickly. You whimpered as you felt his hand trail up your thighs, “Open them,” Ramsay ordered and after a second and a telling look on his face you complied.

You shivered when you felt his finger run up your slit, “What a little liar,” Ramsay laughed, “Look how wet you are,” he mocked as his finger teased your hole making you whine, “and desperate too,” he said, his lips returning back to your neck as he slipped his fingers in. he curled them with precision and you hated the way your hip bucked and chills went up your spine as he moved his thumb over your clit.

His lips found your nipples, sucking them harshly before grazing them with his teeth making you gasp. Your arms tugged at your restraints, desperate to touch him or push him away you weren’t sure, but you could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers as your orgasm threatened to spill.

It didn’t take much more, another curl of his fingers and another bite to your sensitive bud and you felt your body tighten, your arms tugging on the restraints till the metal bruised your wrists as your peak washed over you. “Such a pretty little thing,” Ramsay cooed as he pulled himself away from you only to stroke his hand over your cheek once more before standing.

“Where are you going?” you asked, breathless as you gazed across the room at him, still bare from where he had torn your dress.

“I have other matters to attend to,” he said as he walked to a chest and unlocked it, “but I will be back, don’t you worry sweetheart,” he said as he threw a grin over his shoulder your way and suddenly self-consciousness began to wash over you as he pulled something out of the chest. He tossed the furs over your body as he walked to the side of the bed, undoing your wrist chains so now only your ankles kept you connected to the bed.

“What are you going to do with me?” you asked again, this time less fear in your voice but you were still nervous to meet his gaze as he cupped your cheek.

“Oh, I think you know sweetheart,” he grinned, that twinkle returning to his eyes, “Don’t worry, I won’t go far. Neither will you,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[fallen-flier]

the moon will sing (time traveling tim)

part 1 + ao3 link

idea inspired by this post by @puppetwoman17!

beta'd by @pinkcowzz :)

Tim had forgotten, to some extent, how vigilantism looked from a civilian perspective. Unless one had a strict, holier than thou moral standing, was a certain type of law enforcement, or was a criminal, very few people well and truly saw it as a bad thing, unless said vigilante punished innocents. 

So when Tim sees Nightwing on the news, beautifully intricate and brutal, the air is punched out of his lungs. His older brother hasn't adopted the same type of showiness and efficiency Tim is used to, but he can see moves that Dick could've developed into his future style— a kick that could've transitioned into a flip, too many spins when it could've been easier just to twist out of the way. Tim aches, the same way a younger sibling misses the quiet and not-so-quiet affection only the older can fill. Tim knows how to bide his time, knows the price of hastiness like an old wound, but this is different. Dick is not a mission Tim needs to fulfill, a duty Tim has bound himself to serve (to save), he's Tim's older brother.

Because here is the thing about Dick: Tim knows he cannot outsmart him. Not because Tim isn't a fantastic liar or is wonderful at gaslighting people, but it's because he's learned it from the very boy who preceded him— Dick. 

If Tim could move people around like chess pieces, analyze their next move and stay three steps ahead of them, then Dick could coax them to shift to where he wanted, read their body language and mood like it was nothing, slide right into their path and dismantle it. Tim manipulated people with the ease of a trained puppeteer but Dick was a damned master at it. 

Or maybe, Tim just didn't want to see his older brother because the whole thing would fall apart. Not because Dick could read him like Cass could, but because Tim would probably slip up too much, let him know more information than needed— and boom, cover blown.

It's a good thing he's too young for galas at this age. Tim still has a few days left of spring break, but the deadline is coming quickly and he'll be thrown back into middle school. Or well, boarding school, to be exact. Which meant he wouldn't be anywhere near his house or the nightlife of Gotham for a few more months, not until summer break. The thought makes Tim's stomach twist uncomfortably with dread, half because he's still being hit with migraines and trips over himself way too much and the paranoia of being unable to protect himself gets a little heavy sometimes. And Tim hasn't exactly had the best of relationships with schools in general.

Intellectually, he knows that school should be easy. He's twenty-three years old and he's going to be surrounded by eleven-year-olds who most definitely have never used differential calculus or number theory before. They're probably going to have grammar quizzes in his English class instead of five paragraph in-class essays. Tim can fail most of his tests and it won't even matter in the long run because nobody even checks middle school grades.

All of a sudden, Tim sympathizes with Damian. The worst part is, reality is finally kicking in and the smartest people in the room are going to be teachers, who most definitely are going to treat him like a genius at best and a traumatized, overly intelligent child at worst (he has never understood Damian so much). 

Tim can barely remember the name of his sixth grade friends, or if he ever had any. In fact, Tim has no idea what his classes are or where to find them. 

Tim is pretty sure it’s ridiculous, how much time he spends on not researching current events. He’s from the future. He should know everything. 

–

Gotham is horribly, terribly, alive. It’s the city he fell in love with, like every other Robin before and after him. In truth, Tim almost forgot his camera before leaving (rookie mistake, even his younger self would’ve caught on), because it’s been so long since he’d gone birdwatching. 2XXX. It’s a Saturday. Batman probably would swing through the Bowery first, then through Crime Alley, and then turn at East End, make a loop through Somerset, then go to Old Gotham. 

Tim grabs onto a ladder, quickly swinging himself up onto the roof with a quiet ‘oof’. His footsteps are far too loud for his liking, but it was unlikely anyone would come and investigate– it was Gotham, as long as he didn’t go breaking into buildings, nobody cared. Quietly, he settles behind a packaged unit, adjusting the lens of his camera. Then, he settles in for the long wait. 

Not before long, Batman comes swinging across with Robin– Jason. He’s not as acrobatic as Dick, but certainly just as efficient. Tim presses down softly and the camera clicks, the sound hidden among the rest of the nightlife. 

He only gets a few other pictures that night, but his favorite is Batman and Robin, standing side by side, a wide smile stretched across Jason’s face as Bruce puts his hand on his shoulder.

It’s an achingly wondrous expression on Jason’s face.

–

All too soon, the week comes to an end and Tim has to order a taxi to bring him back to school. Annoyingly, it makes Tim extremely twitchy, so he spends most of the time trying not to vibrate out of his skin, forcing a steady stream of words out of his mouth to distract himself. It sort of works, and Tim is pretty sure that the taxi driver is reluctantly charmed and hopefully not annoyed.

At this age, Tim’s computer is still one of those big, chunky, plugged-to-the-wall, takes-forever-to set-up-type of computer, but at least he has one. It does not make him incredibly annoyed. It only takes a few minutes to open it, and by the time Tim is connected to the internet, his head is buried into his arms, burying a scream. 

Everything burns, in the worst, most horrible way possible. 

Tim gets back up anyways.

a/n: some introspection before we get into it! this also came out horrifically later than i wanted to lmao but i hope y'all enjoyed. :) i’m taking a hiatus after this, so posts will be sporadic (even more than before haha) but yeah.

[princessamericachavez]

The waking up, having forgotten and remembering the full extent of what forever is

6x17 Spec (AO3)

“Okay, so, a couple years ago, we were responding to a call and then he got... he got shot, right in front of me... in the middle of the street... and out of nowhere, he almost died.” “So he had his very own brush with death,” Natalia’s eyebrows arch. “Cool.”

“Hey, are you alright?” Natalia asks, snapping Buck back to reality. 

His coffee’s gone cold. He looks at the cup, shyly, then back at her. To be honest, Buck is far from fine. He’s exhausted. The day was long, the calls were complicated, Eddie was acting off, Chim was stressing out about proposing to his sister like they aren’t already practically married anyway, and all he wants deep down is to go home, take a shower and sleep twelve hours straight. 

But he’s been pushing back this date with Natalia for almost a whole week now (not his fault, just STUFF that kept randomly happening and getting in the way because the Universe will not give Evan Buckley a single break) and he didn’t want her to think he was ghosting her or something. So now he’s here, staring at a cold coffee cup, thoughts far away. 

“Sorry, yeah. I’m- I was just thinking about that call, from this morning...”

“The proposal,” Natalia guesses. 

Buck nods with a heavy sigh. 

“The sky diver... You know, I actually told Chim to do that last week?” He asks, dread filling him up, but shakes the idea as quickly as possible. “I just- I keep thinking about that guy. He was in love, he had every single reason to survive, to live for... and he just, he didn’t make it.” 

Buck still remembers the man’s ribs cracking under his palms, his fiancé’s sobs somewhere across the street, Bobby’s hand on his shoulder forcing him to stop. He’s gone, kid. 

“It’s just death,” Natalia says, gently. “Most people who go there don’t come back.”

“Yeah, but I did,” Buck says, a little too sharply. “I- I came back, I got a second chance. Why didn’t he? He had so much to live for...”

“Didn’t you?”

Buck blinks at her. He thinks of endless hospital hallways, of a thick glass wall, of his own face filled with every cruel word he’s ever said. He thinks of the words Bobby Nash is dead, and a Diaz-shapped hole in the world. 

“Yeah, I did. But-”

“But he had more?” Natalia guesses. 

Buck shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just- It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Death isn’t fair, Buck,” her eyes sparkle as she speaks, like they do every time they broach her favorite subject. Which is, if he’s being honest, every time they meet. “Death just is. And everything else, well... it doesn’t matter.”

“It has to matter,” Buck shakes his head. “There has to be a reason.”

“A reason he died? Or a reason you survived?”

“I don’t know. Both? I just- I wish I knew, you know? I wish I could tell for sure why I’m still here.”

“To share your wisdom with me?” Natalia teases and it manages to make him chuckle, though even he can tell the sound is far from happy. 

“Maybe. Maybe that’s why.”

Maybe he came back to meet her, to know her, to love her and be loved by her, to finally get it right. Yeah. Maybe. It doesn’t feel entirely right, though.

“I just hate how random these things are, you know? This guy did everything right, but he just flew across a bank robbery car chase, and... just like that, his life was over.”

“In a flash?” Natalia asks, arching an eyebrow, easily guessing where Buck’s thoughts really are. And he’s slightly embarrassed, because he really should know by now that he’s not the center of the universe, but he can’t help it when these things affect him. 

“These things just keep happening when you least expect them.”

“These things... plural?” She asks, eyes a little eager again, clearly guessing he’s about to mention another brush with death. 

“It’s like- like when Eddie got shot,” he says. “You- you know Eddie, right, my best friend? He- he was at the call at Marie’s funeral, when we met,” he explains, which really shouldn’t be necessary because even if they haven’t officially met he knows he’s mentioned Eddie more than once to Natalia. What did you do today? How did you day go? So where were you on the weekend? The answer always leads back to Eddie and Chris. Still, Natalia has the good grace to nod along. “Okay, so, a couple years ago, we were responding to a call and then he got... he got shot, right in front of me... in the middle of the street... and out of nowhere, he almost died.”

“So he had his very own brush with death,” Natalia’s eyebrows arch. “Cool.”

The word rips through him like a bullet, like lightning, it knocks the air out of his lungs and fills them with something akin to acid. 

“Cool?” He says, voice low and slow and angry. “Eddie almost dying wasn’t ‘cool’, Nat. He was bleeding out in the middle of the street. I had to drag him out, I had to beg him not to die on the way to the hospital, he- he could’ve died. For real. Forever.”

“But he didn’t, just like you.”

“It doesn’t matter! Just- just because he survived it doesn’t mean it’s nothing!” 

And just as he’s starting to feel awful about raising his voice, something shifts in Natalia’s face. A small, victorious, smile blooms across her face and her eyes shine with a new kind of excitement. And, just like that, it comes crashing down on him. 

“This... this was never a date, was it?” He asks, voice hoarse. 

At that, her expression twists guiltily. She shakes her head. 

“Then- then what was the whole... the being interested in my dying.”

“Oh, I am interested,” Natalia says, lightly. “But I think you didn’t really want to talk about it. Not seriously, at least. The way you brought it up, when we first met, like it was just something funny or curious that happened to you... I figured you needed someone to match that tone, to help you to open up. And eventually...”

“...realize that it wasn’t nothing,” Buck finishes, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment. 

“Just because you’re still here, Buck, it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. To you... to the people who love you.”

For the first time, Buck’s head actually thinks about his family seeing him die. He thinks about how Eddie’s shooting wrecked him, and finally understands that perhaps that’s why they’ve been acting weird since he came back, like he could break any second, like they are waiting for him to catch up on what happened. Buck, you died. Buck, you died. You died, Buck. 

“I know it happened. I just... I want it to mean something.”

“It already does. It can mean whatever you want it to.”

Buck takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly, meeting her eyes again. 

“Death isn’t about life ending, Buck, it’s about the journey before. And, for you, there’s still a whole journey ahead... and behind. You can’t shake off your past like you’re changing skin, you wouldn’t learn anything that way. This is a second chance at your life, not some other imagined one. A lot of people who go through similar situations, who die and come back, want to burn it all to the ground, be someone new... but that’s just another way of running away.” 

“Or go to Italy,” Buck huffs, amused, and for the first time in this entire conversation Natalia looks confused. He just shakes his head. “I guess I’ve just been... I’ve been trying to use this to find my way, but instead I’ve been so lost.”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” she says, with a sweet smile, and he knows she means herself. 

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t know where else to look.”

“I can’t help you with that,” Natalia says, as she gestures for the check. “But in my experience, life and death aren’t so different in that they can catch you in the most unexpected places. Sometimes... right under your nose.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” Eddie’s never going to let him live this down when he tells him. “Uh... I feel like I should be paying for the session, or sessions, you know?”

“You can just pay for my coffee,” she laughs. “And maybe one of those chocolate muffins to go.”

Buck laughs, and hopes that Natalia keeps in touch because, even if clearly they haven’t been dating, he kinda likes her. She’d be a good friend to have around. 

“So... if I have any more questions... about death?” He says, watching her pick up her purse and straighten her dress. 

“You can always call me, Buck, but I think you already have all the answers you’re looking for. You just gotta let yourself see them.”

And with that, she gives his shoulder a quick squeeze as she passes by and walks away. Buck sighs, and finds himself smiling. 

As he walks out of the cafe, he pulls out his phone and shoots Eddie a quick text: Man do I have a story to tell you. Wanna grab a beer?

Eddie’s reply comes quickly: Always. My place or yours?

Yours. Buck writes back, hopping into the jeep. 

[toastedjeans]

I'll post this to AO3 some time later, but for now..

Somebody order some Queenie angst?

Ever since a few days, or however long it was in this digital world, it had been taunting her. Appearing and disappearing wherever she went, always too far away to reach, or even to take a proper look at it. The first few times she saw it, she was sure she was just imagining things. But the more frequent the sightings became, the less she believed it to merely be her imagination.

Once again, a bright red exit door appeared right in front of Queenie's eyes. She stood motionless for a few moments, her hand shaking. If she had lungs, she'd be breathing heavily. A quick glance wouldn't hurt, would it? Of course, she wouldn't leave without notice, as much as she longed to escape this nightmarish realm. Not without taking the other performers with her, and especially not without her sweetheart, Kinger. If she could prove that there was a way out, everyone would finally be free again.

As the curiosity got the better of her, she pressed the handle down, ready to peer back into reality once more, even just for a moment.

But she wasn't fast enough. The door practically disintegrated into tiny red particles, floating up into the air before she could see the other side. This must have been the closest anyone had ever gotten to get out of the circus. She'd have to notify as many of the others, tell them to look out for the way out. Then she'd be able to take as many of the trapped performers with her, back to their former lives. Back to the real world.

---

Ever since her close encounter with the presumably only way out, she'd have visions of her past life. During many of Caine's adventures, memories of her life back home flashed before her, sometimes causing her to nearly break down mentally. Kinger would always be close by, holding her, comforting her, keeping her just sane enough to not lose her mind completely.

Queenie was strong-willed. She usually wouldn't be brought down like this that easily. And yet, the memories were relentless, projecting images of her children from the real world into her mind. With every day, the once so strongly woven thread she held onto seemed to fray more and more.

A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Well, if you could call life in the digital circus that.

"My love, are you alright?", the soft voice of her husband spoke, "You've been staring at the wall for quite a while now."

Kinger tried not to sound too worried about her, after all, everyone in here went a little crazy from time to time. But Queenie was the most stable of them all, or at least she was good at hiding her struggles. She and him were among the people who were trapped here the longest, that must have affected them on some level at least. Or maybe they'd grow desensitized to their existential dread after so long. Who could tell.

"Kinger, darling...", she whispered, her voice shaking, "If you saw an exit door.. would you go through it?"

Kinger was taken aback by the question, tilting his head like a confused puppy. He then took his wife's hands in his own and knelt in front of her, looking deeply into her big amber eyes.

"I would never leave. Not if it means leaving anyone behind."

The queen's expression shifted to disbelief, one of her eyelids twitched. She shook her head, "You wouldn't? But what about-"

Kinger shushed her by placing a finger on the spot of her face where her mouth would be if she had one. He didn't like interrupting her like this, but he couldn't bare seeing her so distraught over this elusive exit. While he was certain that some sort of way out of this place did exist in some form or another, he had never seen a door randomly spawning into the room. It wasn't that he didn't believe his beloved partner, but to him, such a thing would be merely theoretical until he saw it himself. Or until he'd get confirmation from Caine about it.

"Let's not think about that now, my love. We have one another, and that's what's most important.", her husband spoke in his softest, most calming tone he could manage, gently leaning his forehead against hers.

But Queenie snapped. She pushed Kinger away from her, causing him to fall over to his side.

"So you're saying my children aren't important, then?", she said in an incredulous voice as she stood up. Her hands shook as she repeatedly balled her hands into fists, as if wanting to strangle somebody.

"N-no! This isn't at all how I-"

He reached out towards her, but was only met with her uncharacteristically furious gaze. He had never experienced his wife so angry before.

"They're all alone, Kinger. They need me, they need their mother!", her body started shaking more and more. "You don't understand. If I can't leave this god forsaken place, they'll have nobody taking care of them!"

She leaned down with every word until dropping to her knees, as if her body wouldn't be able to withstand the pressure any longer.

"What if..", she whispered to herself, voice weak. She couldn't bare finishing the thought, tears forming in her eyes as she broke down on the floor, holding her head.

The king slowly crawled towards his queen, reaching out a second time in an attempt to calm her. Even if she was usually the one keeping him in check, she needed his emotional support from time to time as well.

But he was too late.

As Queenie shook harder, her body started shifting and glitching, until she eventually corrupted beyond recognition. Kinger couldn't help but stare in horror, unable to comprehend what he was looking at. Her current body almost reminded him of some strange insect. What was happening to her?

As much as he wished to help, to take away the pain and agony she was going through, he didn't know what he could possibly do. He reached out once more, his hands trembling in terror, and still he held out hope for her.

She lashed out in an almost animalistic fury, launching him into the nearest wall. The abstract body's thousands of multicolored eyes focused on his now heavily glitching body as it ran forward, slamming its limbs into him. It attacked relentlessly, before launching the king into another wall.

"Now what is happening he-", the ringleader himself appeared right in front of the injured chess piece, stopping himself as he spotted the giant, dark mass that was raging through the circus. It now charged directly towards him, attempting to strike his head, or jaw rather, which he barely dodged. He quickly floated next to Kinger, who could only manage to weakly press out his wife's name in a digital stutter, holding a heavily shaking hand out towards the strange monster. A moment of silent realization followed as he turned towards the threat once more. This.. thing was Queenie?

He quickly shook his head, focused yet again. Being an AI, Caine was used to coming across glitches. Yet, the corruption of circus members, his performers, and most importantly, one of his friends, was something he'd never even thought of experiencing.

Luckily, he knew how to deal with bugged code. Caine simply snapped his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest. Kinger, still in a tremendous amount of pain, stopped going in and out of existence, appearing like his former self again.

But the deeply abstracted, giant body still stood in front of them, ready to charge again. Whatever was going on here, it certainly wasn't good.

Caine tried snapping his fingers another time, and another time, to no avail. Queenie had gone so far that even his powers weren't strong enough to fix her. But what was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just lock her away until he had found a solution to turn her back, could he?

Actually, he thought, that wasn't such a bad idea after all. Not exactly the best one he had, but under these circumstances, it would have to do.

Just as she was about to attack the two others once more, the ringmaster took hold of her via a sort of drag-and-drop feature he normally used to move various props around. To ensure everybody's safety, he opened a hole in the ground, which led into the out of bounds region underneath the circus, and lifted his old friend into it.

"I'm sorry, Queenie. But it's for your own good."

With that, the hole closed shut, leaving the corrupted entity behind, nothing but darkness engulfing her.

Caine rushed back to the king, who was still trembling after the horrors he had witnessed.

"My.. my queen..", he whimpered, lifting his head to face his saviour, "Y-you can fix her, r-right, Caine?"

He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Not even he knew if he could. Instead, he took Kinger's hands in his, and brought him to his room.

---

Several minutes passed, in which the AI had summoned a large amount of pillows into the other's room. So many in fact, that half of it was occupied by them, and a tired, still traumatized chess king right in the middle of them. He had tried buidling a fort out of them, but in his haste he just piled all the pillows on top of each other. It would have to do for now.

"If you, uh, need anything. Just call for me. I'll be there as fast as I can, okay?" Being an artificial intelligence, Caine still had to learn a lot of things regarding emotions, especially the more complex and subtle ones. He never knew what to say or do to comfort people. Some preferred to be left alone, while others liked to have somebody close by to talk to. But in an extreme situation like this one, he was utterly unclear on the proper way to act. He figured since most other performers wanted him to stay away as far as possible after they had a mental breakdown, surely this must be what he had to do now as well.

But a tug on his wrist told him otherwise. He turned, his friend now sitting upright on the soft "walls" of the makeshift fortress. Or, as upright as one possibly could on a surface like this.

"Can you.. stay with me?", Kinger almost whispered, his piercing blue eyes meeting Caine's, "I don't think I can handle being alone right now..."

With a look of slight surprise, the ringleader slowly took the other's hand in his and floated up, placing himself next to the other figure. Big, gloved hands gently grabbed his small body, pulling him closer, imitating an embrace. At least it felt like one. Without arms, it was sometimes difficult to tell what the king's intentions were when he held somebody. Hesitantly, Caine hugged him back, providing his friend with as much comfort as he could give him. Warmth engulfed his entire body, and if he hadn't already experienced this feeling before, he'd assume that his processor was just overheating.

Before long, the two figures lay even closer together in a tight embrace. Their grip tightening, they held onto one other as if they'd drift apart if they'd ever let go. No more words were spoken between them, just the occasional rustle of pillows and blankets, and some quiet sniffles could be heard. Caine and Kinger had been close before, and the mutual grief over the loss of a loved one would only bring them closer.

[an1meslvt]

♡𝕊𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕚 𝕌𝕕𝕒𝕜𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤♡

𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬:

you

her lab

her friends

her family

wakanda

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

pros

constant love and affection

always giving you words of encouragement

barely let’s you even lift a finger

overprotective (in a cute way)

very understanding

makes sure you feel comfortable and properly accommodated to wakanda

makes everyone address you as royalty

the sex bomb asf- MOVING RIGHT ALONG-

cons

always in her lab

sometimes she yells at you for no reason due to stress

accusing you of things that you never even think about doing (she’s been through alot tho 😔)

extremely aggressive when she’s annoyed or upset

throws and breaks things when she’s mad

very overprotective (in a controlling way)

very controlling at times

𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨:

work in her lab

we all know shuri is a talented scientist so ofc she likes to be in her lab every other second.“sthandwa, isn’t my lab the coolest!??!” “yea baby, it’s very cool!” literally geeks over her own creations as if she didn’t sit there and create them 😭 “bast, who made all of this?” like ma’am you did??? literally so cute when she’s like this!

spend time with you

being the now queen of wakanda, she rarely has any free time, but she does her best to make time for you(even if it’s only for a couple of minutes) you’re one of her last hopes of happiness she has left and she cherishes you deeply.

go on walks around wakanda

shuri giggled slightly as your eyes twinkled in excitement. you loved wakanda’s scenery and it never failed to amaze you. “slow down intombazana, we have many opportunities to come here” in reality she mostly liked going on walks to make you happy, that’s all she could ask for!

watching american tv with you

when you moved to wakanda, she tried to make it feel as american as possible for you(even though you told her multiple times that it wasn’t necessary) she created a living room type space in the palace that basically replicated an american living space. “so there’s a show where people find out if they are the father or not?” “yes…isn’t it entertaining?” “i mean yea…and a bit confusing.” she had a hard time trying to understand the bleeped out words.😭

cooking with you ( or in general)

shuri loves teaching you how to make wakandan food! “ok sooooo you need these seasonings and then you mix it all up in this bowl.” “ok so now what?” “now you must cook it on medium high heat until it’s brown.” “ok great…but there’s one problem…” “what is it, sthandwa?” “ i don’t know how to work the stove-” “bast, is my little american having trouble?” “shuri it’s not funny…” “yes it is! griot, set stove to medium high heat please.” “yes your highness.” “so all i had to do was ask griot…and you stood there and watched me struggle??!!??!” “y/n wait!” she was laughing her ass off bro 💀

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞(𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥):

you guys have a semi healthy relationship. it’s a bit toxic on shuri’s end do to the fact that she sometimes seems to love her lab more than you.(and she may or may not had been caught flirting with riri a few times) other than that everything is pretty good. she treats you like a princess and makes everyone address you as such. you guys do go through trials and tribulations, but at the end of the day you’re just happy you can call shuri yours and vice versa! ♡

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: i hope you guys enjoyed this! jus a lil sum sum before i do this fic idea! send in request if you have any pleaseeee🫶🏾

©️ an1meslvt

[synthizedarchive]

i'm not going to put this on the @solarisdog account as me and @scratchizm have already flooded the blog with our story enough. it's not about me, it's about other people that have suffered and come forward in order to share their awful experiences. but i'm just writing this anyway. maybe someone is checking my account. maybe it's just for me to vent.

it's clear that will never get an apology for what has happened to me. not for what matters. i don't care that i had racism, i don't care that i was accused of content theft and lore stealing, i don't care about having ''problematic faceclaims'. i care about what would actually be classed as a fucking crime. being labelled a stalker, abuser, and groomer. that i will be always be labelled the stalker and obsessed, which it's actually the reversal. that my partners will be forever labelled as ''DID real'' rather than actual tangible human-contact reality.

the amount of PTSD and trauma i have from them is unreal, and i wish i could put this into proper words of how this has affected me since 2021 ( i believe ). my partners can attest to the way my mental state was affected but only I know the feelings that have churned in my gut for all these years.

i'm the ''obsessed'' that comes from me seeing their blog two-three years ago in my FYP, and wanting to reconnect. that i'm so fucking traumatized by rejection sensitivity and ADHD problems or whatever ( and knowing even back then of the ghosting they do without any care or empathy ) , that i sent an anon saying i missed them. before we got into a extremely close friendship - but they say was a relationship. messenging solaris was the worst thing i have ever done in my entire life and i don't say that lightly. trying to reconnect and just be a fucking friend to someone whose content and lore i enjoyed?? the worst regret of my life.

i'm sitting here crying again over a person who is ten years younger than me. how sad and pathetic am i, honestly. solaris will never understand the feeling of what it is truly like to be stalked, obsessed over, manipulated, abused bc this is MY experience. not theirs. they are the stalker and obsessed, not me.

what is it about me that made me such an easy target to this planned level of orchestrated abuse? i just don't understand. it breaks me.

only a handful of people on this site, i can assume, will truly know what it feels like to have your every movement monitored. your every blog - that not even cheezbot has the chance to like posts on yet - thrown out to the wolves within seconds of making it. personal blogs attacked. even when i try to heal my trauma by creating a villain in my story called 'the stalker' ( which lasted all of 5 minutes before it made me feel sick again ), which was actually my wife's idea, i'm labelled as insane. this situation HAS made me lose my mind, on so many levels.

and i'll never get an apology for that. and it really hurts. other people get apologies so easy. whether they accept it or not is up to them. but where is my closure? maybe i'm selfish. but i know what i 100% am - and that is fucking broken by this whole experience.

myself, my loved ones, my friends, they know the truth but for me that will never be enough to actually having your abuser admit fault. no matter how much i tell the truth of my story, it will forever be twisted whilst i have this voice. and while it is a relief to have that voice be heard by others that have experienced similar issues, i will forever be tainted by a disgusting, vicious, abusive brush. all because i cared about someone. all because i wanted to be their friend. all because i said hell no to a relationship. i'm just so regretful to have ever met them, and i'm sure a lot of other people feel the same. hindsight is an amazing thing. if i had knew, i would have never even said hello to them.

[fangaminghell]

I don't know if I would consider these "romances" cause uh. Some of these are toxic, even when the people involved aren't even together. and some of these couples are already broken up for one reason or another. So...

Adam x Bree: Where in the process of getting divorced. They don't end up back together, but are simply happy that they're still in each other's lives. Arguably the healthiest outcome of everyone here.

Diana x Calreath: Calreath dies sorry. They had a good relationship, though Diana at times didn't open up much.

Adam x Jaern: One sided love/ hatred/ obsession. Jaern fell hard for Adam at one point and that just spiralled. Doesn't really hate Bree, I think, is generally more focused on Adam. Adam genuinely saw Jaern as one of his closest friends. Maybe in another universe, they've gotten together, but 1) this isn't that universe 2) unless Jaern chilled the fuck out I don't see their relationship being healthy.

East x Jaern: Do I even call this a relationship????? Jaern knows East has some feelings towards him, and uses that against him. East knows that he knows and hates how his emotions - the thing he knows would never become a reality for a loooong time now - is being played with. Like yeah, East had feelings for Jaern at one point, and those feelings sneak up on him sometimes, but above all else, East does not want to be in any relation with Jaern outside a loyal member of his cult/ right hand man. And yet, Jaern just loves to poke at him. He hates it. He wants to run away. But he can't. And Jaern knows this. It's. Very bad. Just an abuse of power and emotions.

Jaern x Zenith???????: Honestly kinda made for each other in the worst ways lmao. In canon Zenith is what Jaern wishes he could be, and Zenith will make sure Jaern knows it. That is, of course, if I have them actually know each other on a cult leader to cult leader status. Outside of that I still think there's some playful bitterness between the two. Jaern loves being the center of attention, loves having influence, and here comes Zenith in his idol persona, who also loves that, and thus is actively competing for some sort of public dominance. Though to the average person, they seem like good acquaintances.

Anastasia x Audrey: Childhood friends to one sided crush( Ana developed feelings towards Audrey when they were younger) to sworn enemies. Nowhere near as crazy as Adam n Jaern, but man. What could have been.

Reukra x Harmony: They dated in college before breaking up. Harmony genuinely liked the man and thought he was Forever, but Reukra....simply didn't feel much. He likes Harmony as a friend, and he thought that dating someone like her was expected but....nothing. At the time, they broke up on good terms. They were still friends at the end of the day. But sometimes harmony looks back at those times and wonders where things went wrong and if she could have done more.

Eduard x Yuki: OKAY THE ONLY HEALTHY COUPLE SO FAR SORRY ADAM N BREE. We love a t4t couple in this household. Anyway, they aren't together for the majority of Insurgence, but they are very clearly in love with each other and are too shy to really say it. Kayla is scrolling through her phone as they awkwardly flirt with each other while London is just happy he got new writing inspiration for his next book ( oh and happy for them too).

Juno x Xavier: I already said this story so long story short: Juno, Nora's older brother, used to date Xavier when they were both rangers. They've broken up- all bc of Xavier- and Juno has no plans of taking Xavier back. Xavier acts like it doesn't affect him but will ask about Juno whenever Nora is around, much to her annoyance. Bro, he's not gonna date you, move on.

Bonus: Silly and Self Indulgent but most likely not canon.

Adam x East: I don't think East would want anything to do with Adam after everything - no real fault of the man, East has just spent way to long with Jaern and by proxy, way too long hearing about Adam. But if East does try to interact with Adam, I think it would be funny if East said to Jaern that he's going on a date with Adam just to spite him. And then the man actually goes on a date with Adam. The only other problem is that it will be very weird for Yancy, who had to fight for their life against the East, who suggested Yancy to be sacrificed btw, and then proceed to watch East die. So. Yeah, maybe. Maybe not. It's still very funny.

Yancy x Damian: To be very clear, these two relationships don't really hinge on whether it's romantic or not. They mean a lot to the other, and that's what's important. But goddamit, they would be cute. And so awkward. So so awkward. Like I need you to understand the tension that's there when Damian comes back, changed and more self assured, putting up boundaries but also just distancing himself a bit vs Yancy who is trying to show more affection, trying to be the friend Damian needs, but bc of their nature they're just so awkward about it. To be clear again: This is going to happen regardless of if it's romantic or not. God their friendship is going through it. But the self indulgent part of me thinks a romance between them could be cute.

Nora x ????: This is very much not canon bc ??? Isn't even canon at all but I love the idea of a Carmen Sandiago esc relationship with ??? Being a ruins thief that likes teasing Nora and Nora actively trying to stop her. Que bickering and " why the fuck do I have a crush on her of all people". This is probably a good time to mention that Nora is an ace lesbian in this rewrite 👍

[justapixelthing]

Do you ever have moments where you hate your favorite ship? (Another Oot Zelink rant - electric boogaloo)

Here we go again I guess. For some context: I grew up with Ocarina of Time. I played the game since before I could even read (I was like 4 for sure). I had kind of a rough childhood so for me Oot was an escape. Link was my childhood friend. I identified with him but at the same time saw him as my closest companion.

And well to little me there was no doubt that Link and Zelda were a thing. Same with Mario and Peach (SM 64 was there at the same time for me). Like it was clear as day to me. I was a child and it shaped the way I would end up liking my relationships. A hero and the princess. And I even ended up getting my hero in real life and he likes to call me his princess. We've been engaged for a while now.

So because I grew up with it, before I even understood what shipping was, it was more than a ship to me. It was my childhood. My reality.

You also have to realize that before TP came out and even for several years after TP was there, oot Zelink was also still very popular.

Then closer to today, we have things like Hyrule Historia and.... Zelda youtubers all saying the same thing of how the Hero of Time canonically marries Malon (which ... is still a theory. Like youtubers saying it's what happens and not marking it as theory doesn't make it canon) and the majority of the fandom treats it as fact. And okay, I get why the theory is popular, though I still think it should be treated as theory.

But now you have everyone going against you. Oot Zelink content is most of the time depressing tragic and painful content. What once used to be stories of love and peace faded out for the most part. When you write a fic about oot Zelink being happy together or make art about it, people will tell you 'but Link banged Malon' and worse things. Like I'm not here to tell you Malink is impossible, but I do think (and I will die on that hill) that oot Zelink IS possible. But then I get insulted over it. Hell someone called me the T slur over it.

I'm not blind to the hints, but these two are engraved into my mind. And sometimes I actually DO wish I could stop shipping them and wish they would stop affecting me. But they don't because they were part of my growing up process. Now when I see content about them, things like simple tweets or opinions or even just Oot content in general, it can put me into total agony. Oot used to be one of my favorite games and now just looking at it can ruin my mood and put me at unease. All the hero's shade content basically feels as If I'm watching my childhood friend die over and over again (which is whole different topic in itself) and all the tragic oot Zelink content rips my heart out. All this also made me feel unable to really like TP, which is a shame, as it introduced some of my favorite things.

What also hurts is, that as a child I really liked Malon. She was one of the things in my life that inspired me to sing. But this whole situation and the way several fans are has made me detest her. I try to like her but I basically have to force myself to do so.

I'm never going to attack you for having a different ship than mine (unless its illegal). But this situation is really hard on me. I wish I could agree with Malinkers but I probably never will.

Who knows, maybe I am delusional. But seeing as Nintendo never has and likely never will confirm Malink and has pushed oot Zelink (Oot 3d promotional manga? Approving of the mangas that push oot Zelink, which includes the TP manga? Miyamoto literally saying he'd like to see Zelda as Links girlfriend in oot?! The whole ending of the game literally being set up like a romance film with a break up and a reunion!?) you can't tell me Nintendo never intended anything romantic to come from them. And using this I still feel in the right to ship them in a non AU way.

But because of how the situation is, I no longer like Oot as much as I used to. It was once the greatest game ever to me and I still objectively consider it as such, but it isn't as it used to be for me. Sometimes I even wish It didn't exist (though that would be a great injustice to the world if it didn't), because it upsets me too much. I hate seeing my childhood friend die and not get what he deserves. I detest the tragic oot Zelink path (though I do not mean to tell anyone that they shouldn't like it - this is just my personal experience and I get why others like it).

I do like some other things that are tragic - I mean one of my favorite films is Titanic, but I guess I grew up with those things already being tragic (imagine Titanic not being tragic! A literal historical disaster!)

It is shocking how much a simple thing like a ship and a character's fate can affect you mentally. Things that are part of your childhood, even fictional stories, can shape you quite strongly.

So yes, sometimes I hate this ship. Sometimes I love it, but when I love it, I usually need to be far away from the fandom.

I wonder if anyone else feels that way about this or another ship?

[aeoki]

SHINSEKAI - Magicians of ES: Chapter 13

Location: SHINSEKAI Stage Characters: Jin, Akiomi, Mika, Sora & Natsume

< A few days later. Somewhere in “SHINSEKAI”. >

Jin: “♪~♪~♪”

Akiomi: “~......♪”

Sora: HaHa~♪ Are those the ghosts Hidaka-sensei told us about?

Natsume: I find it hard to believe even when I’m seeing it with my own two eyES… I did hear that someone hacked into “SHINSEKAI” and did whatever they wanted, thouGH.

That’s our homeroom teacher and the advisor of the Student Council, isn’t iT? What was his name agaIN?

Tsumugi: There’s no way you wouldn’t know.

In this day and age, people who act like they’re a “loner who isn’t interested in others” is, on the other hand, treated like someone uncool who can’t take a hint, you know?

Natsume: Oh, shut uP… AnywAY, just what on earth are thEY?

Those “ghosts” look rather youNG. Actually, they look like they’ve returned to the time they were actiVE.

Sora: Active? Umm, Sora can only “see” something foggy and hazy~

Tsumugi: Change your visibility settings, Sora-kun. You should be able to see what we see if you fiddle with it. According to the manual, anyway.

Sora: HiHi~♪ As Sora thought, it’s only within a game where Sora can be “the same as everyone else”.

But Sora’s eyes aren’t all-powerful, they’re just convenient so Sora will leave them on the same settings as reality.

The calm and clever Senpai and Master~ will verify the things that normal people perceive for Sora, anyway.

Sora will only perceive the things Sora can see and will tell you what information Sora has picked up. Surely, Sora will be more helpful that way~

But Sora is sure Master~ and Senpai will still love Sora even if Sora isn’t helpful.

Sora wants to be helpful.

Natsume: ……… *Hugs Sora gently*

Tsumugi: ……… *Tugs Natsume’s clothes implying that this isn’t the time for this*

Akiomi: “Oh. I thought the reaction was a bit odd but…”

Jin: “What are you guys doing here?”

Sora: Whaa, they noticed us~

Natsume: That’s our liNE. What are you guYS? What are you doing in our utopIA, “SHINSEKAI”?

Depending on what you sAY, we have the right to remove you as the admins fOR “SHINSEKAI”.

Tsumugi: Yes. Please sit still and let us capture you~ We won’t hurt you in any way.

Sora: HuHu~♪ You shouldn’t disobey the game master.

Jin: “Hey now, what’s with all the rudeness? We’re just having a good time in the game. That shouldn’t count as something bad.”

Tsumugi: But even so, it’s break time right now.

People other than us, the management, aren’t exactly banned from entering “SHINSEKAI”, but it’s not recommended to do so.

If you find your brain bugging out because you didn’t have a proper rest, then that will be your own responsibility, okay?

Akiomi: “............”

Jin: “Hmph. You probably don’t know who we are but we’re members of the ‘P-Association’. And ‘P-Association’ members are also ‘SS’ Administration Committee members by default…”

“Most of the management is involved with the development for ‘SSVRS’. That includes both Kunugi and I.”

Natsume: Kunugi, you sAY…?

Jin: “Which means we have the same position here.”

“You have no right to judge us – At the very least, you can’t judge players from a game master’s position.”

Akiomi: “Yes. You have no reason to arrogantly order us around.”

Jin: “Now that you know that, hurry up and get back to reality. Are you not going to listen to your teacher, Sakasaki?”

Natsume: …………

Akiomi: “This is a warning but it would be wise to do as we say. Putting Aoba-kun who has already graduated aside, Sakasaki-kun and Harukawa-kun, you two are currently still students, aren’t you?”

“Do you want us to write on your report card that you’re rebellious children?”

“You’re in your third year and should be preparing for university, right, Sakasaki-kun? I don’t think it would be a good idea to do something that could negatively affect your academic results.”

Natsume: …………

Mika: You guys are all idiots.

Akiomi: “.........!?”

Mika: There’s no way the person who Naru-chan liked would ever misuse his power and position to threaten someone. This is way too ridiculous~

It feels unpleasant like you’ve dirtied somethin��� that someone I deeply care about loves.

Akiomi: “Who the hell are you…!?”

Mika: Your true colours are spillin’ out~ Kunugi-sensei won’t be all emotional in front of his students. And he’s definitely not the kind of person to say “Who the hell are you?”.

Sora: Ah, were you pretending to be Kunugi-sensei? Sora couldn’t tell at all~ Your “colour” is way too different!

Mika: Yeah. I don’t have special eyes like Sora-kun, but even someone like me with poor eyesight could tell.

Who are you guys?

Akiomi: “............”

Natsume: HmM~ You did mention you’re members of tHE ‘P-Association’. It also seems you know us to a certain exteNT, so I do believe you’re people related tO ES.

But, well, in this day and age, you can gain a lot of information just by looking it up on the internET.

There are things only the people close to us knOW. There are also some things only people who have teamed up with us in a unit and performed on stage would knOW.

“Ba-barrier” was only active for a short period of tiME, but it seems that wasn’t an exceptiON.

Sora: Yes! Sora won’t forget the people Sora performed with!

Mika: Yeah. I tend to forget some things too but I’m not that forgetful.

Jin: “...What should we do?”

Akiomi: “Hell, you’re asking me–”

Jin: “For now, don’t say another word. We shouldn’t give them any more information.”

Natsume: FuFU. Oh, don’t say thAT. Come, let’s have a nice chat togethER, Sensei ♪

Just kiddiNG. I’ve barely attended classes so I’ve never had much interaction with Kunugi-sensei or Sagami-sensei from the very beginniNG.

But even so, you two are only capable of putting on an act that anyone could see throuGH. If you two were idols, you wouldn’t amount to much at aLL.

Jin: “............”

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[cwarscars]

15-20

𝐶𝛬𝛮 𝘐 𝛬𝑆𝐾 𝑌𝛰𝑈 𝛬 𝑄𝑈𝐸𝑆𝑇𝘐𝛰𝛮 …?

HIGH INFIDELITY. has your character ever betrayed someone’s trust? how did it affect their relationships and self-perception?

yes. absolutely, 50000%. while heidegger may be loyal to shinra - he is very opportunistic and manipulative. i feel that, if given the chance, he would betray shinra ( and i suggest this because of the way he speaks about shinra behind his back - and the scene where he clearly tries to manipulate the man as they walk to the elevator ( i once did a massive analysis of that scene c.c ) ). however, he never betrays shinra-

rufus on the other hand, when declared / thought to be dead in the original final fantasy vii - heidegger JUMPS at the chance to take over. he's very quick to step all over rufus' orders and take charge. he's also clearly not happy with the way that rufus runs things. which makes me assume that he could betray rufus' trust-

but this is a tangent - in my headcanon; heidegger has betrayed people's trust before now. i headcanon that he absolutely cheated on his ex-wife a few times and i even have a ship where he actively is cheating on her. in truth-

heidegger is arrogant. and he absolutely sees himself as above the law. so he will always justify his actions.

someone else cheats / lies? they're awful. despicable - disloyal!

heidegger cheats / lies? it was necessary. he had to do it.

the man wont admit that he intentionally betrayed somebody, he will instead to do his best to justify it & put himself in the right. it's an awful character trait. but surprisingly, despite having cheated on his ex before - he wouldn't cheat just casually in relationships nor would he suspect his partner of it. he isn't hyper stressy / jealous and he doesn't have a wandering eye, really. he's just prone to back-stabbing / manipulation because it's in his nature. c.c

GLITCH. describe a moment when your character felt out of sync with the world or experienced a significant disruption in their life.

without a doubt - when he was a younger man. at the age of 23 when he lost his team at the great glacier. to this point, he was strong & powerful. a quiet man with a hair trigger temper. his father was head of the military and heidegger had slain a behemoth ( a feat that had given him a reputation ). but he was immensely lonely. he was young & arrogant, sure. but he had no friends-

and then he found them.

in this screwed up little platoon of 'fuck ups'. these were all guys who were screw ups in some way or another. most having been disciplined for various conduct. but, heidegger found his place with them. he bonded with them, grew to enjoy their company. had things gone different here - he could have become a good man.

when each of them died, his best friend lost his arm & leg & heidegger remained - it just broke him. he was taken from the great glacier as an entirely broken man. a 24 year old who has seen every friend die or come very close to death. a 24 year old man who has damn near starved / frozen to death. in this moment, he had a total mental break. he'd discovered that his own father had essentially sent him off to die and that, alongside, the deaths of his men - it destroyed him.

for a few years of his life; he was a shell. suicidal and chaotic. it took president shinra snapping him out of it for him to be bought back to some semblance of reality ( perhaps if someone else had saved him - he'd be different? ) either way, that period in his life seriously fucked him up.

WOULD’VE, COULD’VE SHOULD’VE. what is something your character regrets not doing or a decision they wish they had made differently?

now - heidegger would NEVER admit this - but he regrets his part in the wutai war. he regrets his failure.

on the outside; the story's been spun that he's this hero. that he fought bravely and that sparing godo led to godo cheating and taking him down / almost killing him. that's a fabrication. godo is the hero in this story, not heidegger.

and though heidegger runs with this story and tells everyone that 'giving mercy to your enemies results in wounds' - it's a fucking lie, he knows it's a fucking lie. it's honestly - alongside many other things - the reason he drinks. it depresses him to know just how badly he actually fought.

sure he could take down footsoldiers and fight fairly well in that respect but...taking down the king of wutai? actually powering through him. no, heidegger fell almost immediately. he was comatose as a result of godo's power. how embarrassing is that?

and it's something he's deeply ashamed of. he came home to a wife leaving him and his kids going with her. after three weeks unconcious, he awoke to nothing important anymore. no wife, no kids. not even allowed to ever fight again. man is left with only shinra ( which is why it's his life now ).

so yeah - i think if he regretted something or wish he'd done something differently - it would have been that battle.

[ so, i've actually decided to answer this in two parts to stop the dash from having to read my ridiculously long post - i'ma post it pretty quickly after this one ! ]

[from-dre]

Many Million Dreams Ago • Ch. 4 of 10

The weather outside had changed like clockwork—, summer to fall to winter and then? It seemed like it got stuck somehow. The cold had completely frozen the bedroom window shut, it had stalled my car’s engine to where it wouldn’t turn over anymore—, it quickly become one of the eeriest seasons of my life. The only place where I’d found any warmth whatsoever was in my girlfriend's arms. There was only one problem; we didn’t know how to get any closer. Physically, we’d gone as far as we could go. Emotionally, we were completely tied up in the other. Only our mental state had any free space left to give away.

I’d moved to a different city—, we were now farther away from one another. Less time to be together, less time to share and experience new things, less time, less time. We’d become desperate for reasons to stay inside. I didn’t want to leave anymore. Home wasn’t fifty-some miles away, it was wherever she was. We’d become desperate for reasons to keep grasp of the other. She didn’t want to leave anymore. No friends, no work, nothing that seemed like it was from the outside world. We’d become really, really desperate. Desperation turned to anger, anger turned to hatred, hatred personified itself in the form of something too sharp for words. Something too vengeful, too heavy for mere emotions to make sense of. We held onto the handles of ominous instruments and used them to sculpt a darker reality than the one we’d been running from.

“Baby!—,” she’d exclaim upon waking up. What happened here last night? Unsettling thoughts ran through our minds. All we could do is guess at the unfortunate scenarios which may have played out. Furniture moved around. Couch cushions turned upside down. Thermostat all the way up. We’d blacked out and remembered nothing. Only the stains remained—, measuring our madness like height-marks on a wall. We traded in long-term happiness for some temporary relief at the hands of tiny, pointed teeth. Regretful us. How short-sighted can young love really be? We were on a collision course in trying to find out. Two lost ships with no lighthouse in sight. Dense fog. Broken compasses. We never stood a chance at making it out intact. Every inch ripped apart—, another scar on our hearts. Pound for pound, we weighed and made sure to repay in kind. We became unrecognizable; cutlery rivals. That which we loved, we came to resemble.

“What’s happening with you two?,” friends would eventually ask. They’d noticed we’d become more withdrawn, less excited about the things which had made us so happy before. There was always a catastrophe to complain about. It was our new routine and we’d found some type of comfort in it. A quiet humming sound constantly played in the backs of our heads, like we knew something was wrong, but something we couldn’t shut off either. It pulled us out of everyday moments and affected our presence in regular situations. This went on—, day after day, week after week, month after month. Things played out tragically; broken promises, broken spirits, everything around us was breaking apart. Slowly, the seasons began changing again, but not our negative energies—, we’d gotten too used to them. Now, they became ingrained in our thinking, in our voices, and in our love itself.

Summer came around once more so we headed back to a land of lovely memories we’d made just a year prior. Back to Florida, back to the Gulf Coast, and back to a type of temporary lifestyle that’d suited us so well beforehand—, but strangely, felt disconnected from this time around.

“What’s different?,” I asked myself aloud.

“Everything—,” I heard her voice whisper back throughout the once-sunny horizons of my mind. There were no more exciting drives throughout the city, no more people-watching, and no more dreaming about future lives lived out together. I wanted what we’d had before so badly—, I wanted our old memories and moments which had made the previous summer the best one of my life. Now, it all seemed to be a distant dream to which I’d never be able to return. The car rides were quieter, the waves crashing onto the coast were calmer, everything was empty of any excitement or joy. At night we’d lay awake in bed, look up at the ceiling, and wonder if we’d made a good decision to come back here.

The morning coffee started tasting different—, even in a beautiful city like the one we were visiting, the depths of our regret from home followed us. We’d sit and sip and stare at the floor, very rarely bringing our eyes back up. We felt so many emotions at once and directed them straight toward one another. Somewhere deep within our dark roasts—, we could barely make out the shapeless waves of an uncertain future together and it made each passing day feel more hopeless and gloomier than the one before.

We were nearing the end of our trip and an hour before we’d be heading back to the airport, she tried one final time at making a lasting memory.

“Do you want to collect some sand from the beach with me?,” she sweetly asked from the armchair. I just slowly shook my head and looked back down at the floor in disappointment. So much for trying to rekindle a nearly-forgotten feeling. I’d go on to regret the decision for a long time afterwards.

Back home for another autumn. This one brought about a newly discovered rush with it. I’d made all the wrong types of friends in my new neighborhood and they had the party essentials one in my situation of desperation needed to take in order to fully enjoy life again. I bought a bag’s worth and waited until I saw my girlfriend again to dive in. I chopped up the piece and laid out a long line across a plastic case, gently handing it to her along with a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill. She readied herself, bent down towards her lap, and drew in every last flake with complete poise and perfection. I would’ve married her right there on the spot. She was everything a person looks for in their toxic-twin; courage, composure, and the sexiest bloodshot eyes. We were re-sparking a fire that’d almost completely gone out. We were discovering something new together again—, like we had with drinking, smoking, and the rest of our rituals. This time though, the stakes were raised.

We divvied up white lines on each other’s stomachs and took turns inhaling the freshly fallen snow off our bodies. The room whirled around us—, we were alone in a sea of subjective spinning brought on by outside substances. Nothing to keep us tied down to this world—, we flew high above it all. High—, and above it all. Beyond clouds, beyond time and space. We’d found another realm where we watched ourselves slow-dance to a far-off symphony while going through all the phases of life. Together and separated only by our imaginations. Eventually, they too would combine into a singular vision; objective rapture. Never wake up. We almost never did. Earth came calling and we had to answer back, opening our eyes once more. The room stood still. Only our elevated heartbeats kept rhythm with what we’d just witnessed. It was useless to try and ask her if she’d seen the same things I had. I knew, somewhere deep inside herself—, she’d dreamed of them before ever meeting me in the first place. They were just amplified now; feelings, fantasies, an on- going reverie that wouldn’t let up. How could we go back to normal after something like that? We couldn’t. So we didn’t.

Though the fun lasted a short while—, it wasn’t enough to truly keep us going for long. We swam with the current as far as possible before our arms started to give out. Driving back home to her apartment one day, we had the radio unusually turned off. There’d been something on my mind for a while and I couldn’t keep the question to myself for a minute longer.

“Do you feel like we’re drifting apart?,” I sincerely asked. She instantly answered back.

“I really do.” That was all she had to say. Even with new toxins and exciting experiences, we couldn’t escape the let down of our second summer. We tried our hardest to remain hopeful about the future, but things seemed to pull us in separate directions now more than ever.

We hadn’t seen each other for quite a while. She started school again, I picked up another job, things naturally cooled down after our last car ride together. I was finishing up my shift at work one night when my mom walked in to surprise me.

“Hurry up and clock out, I’ve got something to show you,” she excitedly said. We walked into a glitzy restaurant right across the street and headed downstairs. I reached the bottom floor and stood for a second, unable to react as there sat my girlfriend in a glittering red dress. She slowly turned to face us and gave me her signature look.

“Hey—.” That was all she had to say. I’d fallen for her again in a matter of moments.

“I’ve missed you,” I admitted to her later on at home.

“Me too,” she replied. We moved from the bed to the floor and back again. It was as I’d remembered—, an unequalled emotion. Something absolute and complete. We were making up with each other, making up for lost time, and making more memories than either of us had in the previous few months. We left the white linen sheets and still had the energy to smoke a couple of cloves on the roof outside my bedroom window while quietly wondering where everything was leading to this time around.

Winter rolled around once more. It seemed colder than the last one—, which was near- impossible. I’d been over her place for a few hours when we started downing shots—, one after another in quick succession. The room spun, the kissing started—, everything was going according to our usual plan. Finally, she fell asleep and I didn’t wait long to do the same myself. The next morning, I could already feel the consequences of what’d happened even before I had the chance to open my eyes. We woke up in a haze—, not knowing the exact sequence of events or what order they’d fallen into, but we felt the weight of regret hanging heavily in the atmosphere. Something vile about the way reality came crashing back down on the both of us kept her and I quiet for a long while. She eventually broke the intense silence.

“Look at yourself,” she got out, raising her gaze up from the floor. She stared at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen as I noticed the smears I still wore.

“They’re just arms,” I naively said. She quickly covered her face with both hands.

“Those used to be my arms!,” she cried out from the bed. I had nothing to say—, no words could properly describe the amount of desperation I felt. I turned to walk away, leaving the room with an air of awful energy attached to it. I slowly made my way down the stairs and out through the front door, got into my car and forever drove away. So it went that it’d be one of the last times we’d ever see each other.

I needed to vent—, to lash out at something, anything. I had so much pent up within me that I didn’t know who to turn to. Everything was my fault—, I’d felt the emotion radiating from her spirit without her having to say a word. Without having ever fallen in love with me, maybe she’d be so much farther along—, with dreams, with relationships, with life itself. It seemed that I’d kept her in place for much of the last few months. The same arguments constantly led back to the same conclusions; maybe it just wasn’t meant to be after all.

We didn’t speak for a long time afterwards. We just watched the clocks change seconds and minutes and hours but nothing else around us ever improved. We were without the other and while it gave us some breathing room, it also forced us to remember how everything felt before falling into our first kiss together. It all seemed like it’d happened so long ago—, in a different lifetime altogether. Finally, she called up one night to see how I was holding up and of course, it didn’t take long for the attacks to begin.

“Are you using needles yet?,” she said in a soft tone. I cringed at the thought of her actually asking me such a question.

“No,” I answered back, a little annoyed. How was it possible that we’d drifted so far apart? Wasn’t this the same girl who’d always kept me in line, calculating my grades everyday for an entire semester of English class to help me pass? Now—, she was asking if I’d been injecting myself with drugs. Of course the flow of firewater never let up and the pills seemed to be in full supply ever since I’d moved, but her imagination was definitely getting out of hand.

“I don’t think we should speak to each other for a while,” was her suggestion. I appealed with pure emotion.

“So we can’t even be friends?”

“I don’t want to have a friend like you,” she said, tearing my heart in two. That was that. We hung up and the world seemed a little bit colder than it was before our conversation had started. I pulled myself up off the floor where I’d always sit to talk on the phone and went upstairs to my room—, confused and more alone than ever.

I decided that if people were beginning to see me as a person on a permanent downward-spiral, then that’s exactly what I’d become. Party after backseat after movie after bedroom—, I started making my way through all of them with a sense of invincibility. I’d figured that I’d already gone through enough to where only I could get in my own way—, that nothing could slow me down or could take away from the momentum I’d built up over the last couple of years. Everyone around saw the walking catastrophe I’d turned into while I was becoming increasingly unaware of the dangers starting to surround me.

The night finally arrived when I took one too many pills and was rushed off to have my stomach pumped clean. I woke up with leather straps wrapped around my wrists. My arms were tied to the metal handlebars of a hospital bed on both sides. In the corner sat a woman of about forty with a nice, warm smile on her face.

“Hello,” she said. “Do you know where you are?”

“Yes—,” I answered back. I knew what’d happened. To escape the heavy sadness of the entire situation, I began replaying old memories of happier times. Just when it seemed like I’d made the worst mistake of my life, I noticed there was a phone sitting beside me on the nightstand to my left. I thought about it for a while before finally being allowed to pick it up and dial her number. It rang—, and rang and rang. Just before I was readying to hang up, she answered.

“Hello?,” her familiar voice said with a tinge of worry to it.

“Hey—,” I began, trying to follow it up with something useful to say, but I came up empty. She didn’t wait long to get down to it.

“Why are you calling me from St. Joe’s?,” she promptly asked.

“I—, umm..., almost O.D.ed,” and just before I had the chance to say another word, I heard the coldest click of a telephone hanging up ever. That would be it. Nothing else followed but more tears and praying sessions for me with sidewalk preachers and sobriety milestones that I’d mess up later on anyway. There was nothing else to do or say. We split ways for good after that.

What’s it feel like when pure romance dissipates? It’s being left completely alone in a foreign country with no translator. Nothing around makes any sense and nobody can help out. Every message, meaning, and concept had been made clear through their presence. Now? Static. How can we eat—, or drink—, or even sleep? The soul’s been ripped apart and our own reflection is no longer familiar. Lover was gone—, but so was Best Friend. Nobody was left to confide in. Nobody was left to even speak to about anything that mattered at all. So onward I went—, into the pitch black darkness of an everlasting night with nothing to illuminate my path or guide me back to the dawn. I wasn’t just pursued by the shadows any longer—, I became one myself.

Things started to make less and less sense. I didn’t feel like I fit into the mainstream lifestyles any longer and couldn’t pinpoint what I’d been made for in the first place. People all around me had goals, went in pursuit of them, and reached new levels of their destinies. Me? I just lulled around in self- pity. All that kept coming back were memories of better days. Please let me turn back time, I’d beg The Universe. No luck. What used to be someone so secure and confident was reduced to a mere hallowed-out shell of their former selves. I had to exit the existential framework. Life seemed so forced and anyone who didn’t follow its strict guidelines was faulted to the maximum degree. Selfish arrogance took over. I didn’t think about anyone else—, least of which, the people that truly loved me—, least of which, my mother. She could tell I’d become withdrawn and uninterested in everything that I’d liked so much before. Who was I to take such a special gift as life in my own two hands and try to rip it into shreds just for the sake of self-interest and sorrow? No one. I was no one—, I just didn’t know it yet.

Finally, the day came when everything around me silenced itself into a dull quiet. Like I’d finally reached the end of a long-winding tunnel. What’s left?, I thought. Nothing. I found myself in the backseat of a car with the outside world blurring by. Faster and faster it went—, down the busy street and straight towards the nearest E.R. Once there—, I woke up—, mentally and emotionally. The doctors’ hearts broke for my mother’s own. I couldn’t open my eyes from the sheer heaviness of it all and didn’t know how to process the situation so just fell into a very deep, very detached sort of sleep.

[cursedzucchini]

Didn't plan on continuing, but here we are. Im bringing.... The plot of the second book Danny wrote!!

Yeah ik i should maybe work on the actual plot, but i got attached to Evelyn and that way to Danny who's writing her.

Anyway i might in the future post the third and last book in the series.

--

*i don't mention it in this, but the whole books there are Evelyn's parents being more and more against the supernatural and all. Like it's def there, not that much important but always coming back*

*another psa, i forgot to mention, the readers don't know how Evelyn died. In the book it's only written like "it was just one afternoon alone in my house, what's the worst that could happen? Well, my death, apparently. CHAPTER TWO Even if blue was my favorite color in life, i couldn't help but despise it in death. I mean, who's idea it was to make the fucking afterlife blue, huh??" Etc. There r only ever hints, which r vague enough*

The second book starts with a nightmare. There are two Evelyn's. Evelyn herself isn't sure which one is she and which one is the imposter and she wakes up in tears.

Following the formula of the first book the first chapter is trying to act similarly carefree, but it just doesn't has the same vibe. Evelyn gets stuck on several details which send her into panic, and the chapter ends with her hiding somewhere, finally saying out loud things aren't okay.

The second chapter is the real start to the book. Evelyn is monologuing about how she wished her life could be a book. How that way she could just skip the uncomfortable or boring or not quite right parts. In the end it's revealed she once again disasosciated and was brought back to reality by worried Greta. Evelyn is falling more and more into depression, so much it affect every moment of her day, and with her rising mental instability, her abilities get more and more unstable. Like she starts floating, or other stuff.

Her friends and sister are trying to help her, but it seems everything they do only pushes Evelyn away. Her grades start slipping, she eats and drinks less. There is deep sadness in the knowledge that she will never have the life she had. But she also mourns for her future and the people around her and everything. Just... Not herself. Also needless to say this is not healthy sadness and mourning. It doesn't help Evelyn, and if nothing happened she would continue being depressed and wouldn't get better.

A mysterious old friend of her parents is introduced. Evelyn doesn't focuses on him that much

Throughout all of this, she still keeps slipping into the realm at night. She walks around, of simply waits to wake up. She meets new people and finally has the realization they are ghosts. Evelyn still refuses to acknowledge she died. It's also important to mention, Evelyn only says (or thinks) she died once, and that is at the end of chapter one. Otherwise she only hints at it, or doesn't finish saying the sentence.

In the half of the book, she gets physically ill. She starts falling asleep and dreaming once again of two Evelyns. slowly they start talking (or arguing?) where one insults the other and sorta is just kinda what Evelyn is thinking unconsciously. The other Evelyn is trying to disprove the first, but slowly she becomes more and more quite. Evelyn still doesn't know which Evelyn is she (like she feels like she's both and none at the same time).

At this point it's 3/4 of the book, and Evelyn is more and more vocal about her hatred of herself (or what she became). She starts hearing a strange voice as she's journeying through the infinite realms, or even when there are two Evelyns. It comes to the point where she decides to tell her parents about her apparent supernaturality, not because she wants to be honest, but as a way to punish herself. She is stopped by Greta who breaks down and tells her how much she was worried for Evelyn and how she absolutely cut them off, and that's not fair.

Evelyn also breaks down and it ends up with the whole group (Evelyn, Daniele, Greta and Alan) cuddling and talking stuff out. Evelyn talks about how she hates what she is, and cant seem to find a way out of everything. They start talking about how everything will be better now that they're together.

That's when another Evelyn appears. She's taller, sharper and colder. She's Other.

Evelyn recognizes her, but before she can say anything, the other Evelyn grabs her neck and starts choking her. She introduces herself by the same name as our protagonist, but tells them to call her Eve.

Evelyn's friends don't know what to do, but try and help her, but they're quickly defeated. Eve starts talking about how undeserving Evelyn is if everything, spelling out every insecurity she ever had. It ends up with Eve resetting the timeline to the moment before she appeared and replaced Evelyn. Evelyn instead appears in a void.

Her existence at this point is the moment she died. She can't breath or blink, at this moment she is truly a ghost. [She noticed she also looks like one. Her normally dark hair is now whiter than the walls in the hospital. She's wearing what she died in, and while normally she's able to ignore it, as the realm is interesting enought by itself (didn't mention that, but Evelyn is very adamant Abt not acknowledging her problems)

She tries interacting with well anything, but only gets pieces of Eve's life. She understands something happened and her parents old friend is partially to blame? It's not very clear, and she can't quite concentrate.

Suddenly a voice appears (this voice could sometimes be heard in in the infinite realms). It tells her about what Eve did. It tells her about how Eve destroyed her original world. It tells her about how she has to die for her world to live.

And Evelyn thinks. She thinks about her friends and about how they promised each other to be strong. She thinks about how disappointed and sad they would be.

And she tells the voice to kill her.

But the voice doesn't. Sure, it's quite for a moment, but than speaks up, voice cold yet warm, harsh yet soft. It tells her they expected more. It tells her they expected nothing less.

And they drop her back into the real world.

After an eternity of no sensations, Evelyn is overhelmed. But more than she is disgusted. How could she just give up on her family and friends?

But she doesn't have time (she never does) and so she's already running to stop Eve.

They fight.

Eve has the upper hand the whole time, it's basically one sided beat down. Until Evelyn gets a lucky, her powers short out in the right moment, and she gets a lucky shot in. Eve is in a thermos Evelyn's parents developed.

The book last chapter starts w the sentence "everything is okay" and also ends w it. The summary of it, is basically "nothing is ok".

Sorta the vibe:

Everything is okay.

(Nothing is okay. She betrayed her friends, she's weak, she can't even think about parts of herself without feeling sick, everything is going so quickly, she's forgetting what is she forgeting--)

But everything is okay.

--

Yeah, i feel Dan is a really big plot point, so i made him part of the plot.

ALSO I GOT A QUESTION ABOUT TAGGING; someone told me to start using the dpxdc & dcxdp tags, bc if u use the ones w spaces, it shows on only dp & DC tags too.

But tbh when i tag without spaces, it def doesn't have that big of a reach, which i get that not as many peeps seem to know about it, but tbh my reach is getting smaller and smaller? Which might be my fault, but also I'm overall a lil confused. And also lots of people still use the tags w spaces, so huh?

[I'm gonna tag this w both of the tags, bc i really wanna know the answer, and i might be lil proud of the plot-]

You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

--

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

[zak-kondo]

The funny part to me when the fat man falls on paprika is that they cut out instead of what you ussually see where a man falls on a woman, touchign her breasts or something.

fatman is so bad at assessing hte situation he culd come off as an accompish to due imcompotent logic.

iti s man's responsibility to control science nad techonogloy says the hairman, but htis same man fights for possession of it.

What is terrorism

im ridig the anikme ocean waves

visually and surrealy paprika is portrayed as a superhero

the story is about how your subconscious affects you dreams

Kon's creativity is about not goign stritly by hte book, but ti pick up imrpovised idea on the spot, and use them if you feels instictively that htey are good

kon sometimes realizes he is dreaming, and remembers those if he want to alter them for use in anime like he did in paprika scenes. underwater mermaid darkness one and paprika monkey ring swallowed by butterflies are 2 exmaples. not sure if there are more.

"I didn't think about that possibility at all. I have never done psychedelic drugs, so I wouldn't really know. I'm not able to imagine that what I conceived in my mind would be the same as the images one might get from taking psychedelic drugs."

reality vs illusion in the movies. this is one way he tries to make his films engaging:

", to be moved by that experience, is important. The goal is to force the audience to participate in the movie."

The author liked the movie so much, he said he wished he could have added certain anime only lines like where the two paprikas talk about you are me, or me is you and fatty"

"Mr. Yasutaka, who viewed Paprika after it was completed, said that in a sense the movie was very true to the novel. He said that it was faithful in that it had an attitude of breaking through common-sense notions."

On religious things in the parade:

"These are things that were thrown away, that are now returning. A hundred years ago in Japan, there was much religiosity. In these modern times, it's become rare. Go to a Shinto shrine, and you might see the gates. Go to a Buddhist temple, and you might see the statues. You might see maneki-neko, and all of these things are now coming back. It's as if they've all returned from the unconscious. Of course, it cannot be helped that these things are being thrown away. However, I would like to see that they not lost completely."

Why blend fantasy and reality?

"There is the reality that we are living, and there are also the thoughts we see. It seems as if these are separated. However, we ourselves experience this in quite a synthesized manner. I might be here in this restaurant in Washington, talking to you today, and my consciousness is focused on this interview at hand. However, I might also notice that you remind me of a teacher I had when was in junior high school in Japan. And so that brings me back to that time and place, which is different from this time and this place. I wanted to see if it was possible to create that overlap between reality and illusion."

On the parade:

"What fascinates me in dreams is the idea that they emanate from our subconscious. I think that there are many possibilities to interpret dreams but a great deal of mystery always remains. When a dream is explained to us, it’s necessary to know the personal context of the subject. For example, what his childhood was like, his adolescence, his interpersonal relations. You’ve got to understand all these elements in order to tally up the dream and to decode it. At the cinema, that can’t happen because the approach demands the introduction of too many elements. In order for viewers to identify with this dream, I chose a parade which makes one think automatically of other common dreams and unconscious states. There are very old characters like objects that are discarded by people today or religious symbols that people have forgotten. I think that even nowadays, people have forgotten the importance of dreams."

on the internet:

"To my way of thinking, the Internet has two functions. First of all, as any other tool, like television and the telephone. But in addition to this function, I think that the Internet possesses similarities to dreams. For example, dreams take place at night. You enter into a very vast universe. The Internet is the very same thing. Fanatics log on the Internet at night. In both cases, there are two universes which remove us from reality."

Should movies be comprehensible?

"I don’t think so.

Whether I am in the audience or in the crew, I can say with confidence that movies that are 100% comprehensible are absolutely boring.

Of course, unlike dreams, most of the things expressed in movies are expected to arouse audiences’ empathy.  But without some kind of a mysterious aftertaste, I believe the movie wouldn’t leave much of an impression.  Needless to say, that “mystery” wouldn’t prove effective if it confuses the story, or if it has developed from the writer’s selfish reasons.  The “mystery” that I’m talking about is, in other words, “a little margin” that leaves some room for the audience’s imaginations.

And the mystery can well exist in anything—in the pictures, the characters’ feelings, the storyline, or even in the setting.  But in any case, the audience would still be able to put the pictures together and undergo their “original” experience of the movie with some help from their own imagination, even without understanding where the mystery lies.  Watching the very same movie and having different thus original ways of experiencing it, is indeed a big similarity between filmmaking and dreaming."

On atsuko and paprika"

"These expressions can be interpreted in a wide sense, but as you have pointed out, in Paprika, obvious doubling can be seen in the heroines Atsuko Chiba and Paprika.  These characters actually developed from the same person’s two distinct personalities, but as the director I considered them two different people when directing.  That way, I thought I could describe a person’s inner conflict and antagonism more clearly.

I’ve seen Atsuko Chiba as a “father’s daughter.”  It’s a psychological term for a woman who regards her father as the archetypal hero, and this kind of person tends to be very particular about “following an example.” Atsuko Chiba, too, is the kind who prioritizes “what she’s supposed to do”, suppressing her desire of “what she wants to do.”

Because of this, she thinks she lacks emotions, or it’s more like she finds it difficult to express her feelings.  And as a result, she doesn’t know how to express her feelings in romantic relationships where a gush of emotions is supposed to be seen.

I’ve thought that Atsuko Chiba’s personality careening to the extreme stimulated Paprika’s emotional, wild side, and as a consequence, the two lost touch with each other and ended up splitting.  But this doesn’t mean one is good and the other is bad—it’s the balance that is important, and both sides are to be blamed for not maintaining it.  The big image of a woman that is reborn at the climax is indeed the mature version of Atsuko and Paprika integrated."

*We started developing Paprika while we were still in production on Paranoia Agent.

on the importance of making paprika:

"I realized I had been influenced by him far more than I expected. In fact, after I finished making Perfect Blue, I considered making Paprika as my next film, not with Madhouse but with the producer who financed Perfect Blue, but that company (Rex Entertainment) unfortunately went bankrupt. But I did have the idea in my mind of making Paprika back in 1998. When I met Tsutsui-san and got his blessing to make it into a film, it was as if something came true that I'd had in my mind for a long time. The visualization of the film goes beyond the initial concept. It's a film that demanded to be made in this era. It's something I had to make, a personal commitment."

on CG in anime:

"Yes, there was. We considered how far we could expand the possibilities using computer graphics, so the role that CG played in this film was bigger than in my previous work. The biggest challenge was that in all kinds of 3D and 2D animation, there's a big divide between hand-drawn analog animation and digital animation. In all the projects I've seen, it's been difficult to blend them harmoniously. I prefer hand-drawn imagery myself, so my biggest challenge was how to blend them so the textures worked together."

More on the parade and how it was heading towards reality:

"The parade itself is something I came up with. It's one of the most important motifs for me, and wasn't in the original story. I didn't feel a strong desire that I had to change the original story, but the novel was very text-based and psychological. Trying to visualize all that text couldn't compete with the novel as it is, so I had to find a way in one visual step to represent the mindset of the novel and that became the parade of inanimate objects. Where that parade goes is also interesting - it overflows into reality. It starts in the desert, which is the furthest point from civilization, through the jungle, over a bridge, and finally intrudes into reality."

more on the internet:

"where internet is prevalent, people can anonymously seek or release things they can't speak of offline, as if there's a part of the subconscious that's uncontrollable and comes out on the internet. That is very much like dreams. This may be a very visualistic analogy, but I've always thought we drop down into dreams, and when you're sitting in front of your computer and connect to the internet, you're also going down into some kind of underworld. I've always thought those two images had something in common. I'm not trying to say that dreams and the internet are good or bad, I'm trying to saying that there's good and bad that cannot be judged in both worlds. Some people say that in the virtual world, different rules exist or try to say that a lot of vicious things happen there, but I don't think there's a reason to differentiate the virtual world from reality because reality includes that virtual world."

view on where anime dustry is going and dreaming machine:

"As far as Japanese animation, I'm not in the habit of giving overviews in that way, but I know from personal experience the number of animated productions is increasing and that there's not enough staff to go around. Which directions animation will go in is something I never really thought about, but I do think that there needs to be more education because the crews aren't maturing. Those people who have access to the technology are often over 40 and they can't work forever. For animation to continue at the same level or to go beyond is going to be difficult. As far as where my own filmmaking is going, I have an idea for a children's story, but with the same kind of realistic techniques. I've honed those techniques over the years and they're difficult to just stop using. So, I think changing my subject matter will force me in new directions."

On why film over animation:

"Depending on what the idea of the project is, some mediums are more suited for a particular idea. As far as TV series goes, the schedule is generally much tighter, and the budgets are much smaller as well. You have to choose which part you want to emphasize – if it’s an interesting story you have to tell the story right, so it’s a little bit of a challenge. As far as a feature film goes, the final length may only be 90 minutes or two hours, but you do have a much bigger budget to work with and much more time on the schedule so you’re able to produce something that is higher quality. While there may be fewer minutes to work with than a TV series, it’s more packed full of quality per minute than a TV series is. I prefer film."

on the chiba and fatty romance:

"Yes, Dr. Tokita is purposely portrayed as a pretty nerdy scientist, that was something we were aware of, and of course physically, he's certainly not a good match for Dr. Chiba, who is very beautiful. I actually think that the unbalance there is good. It's in the original work that this somewhat mismatched couple do end up together at the end, but I really liked that in the original work. Perhaps it's not often seen as a couple in the real world, but if you look at it this way, Dr. Tokita has a very childlike world view, which is not quite in harmony with the enormous genius he possesses and his intellect. Dr. Chiba, she also has this unbalance in herself in that she has almost this multiple personality situation and this alter-ego Paprika, so in a way, these two people who are both somewhat unbalanced in themselves come together, compliment each other and bring more harmony into each other's lives. That's why it's a great couple."

purpose of paprika and also on rewatch value:

"As a basic rule, there has not been a big difference in how audiences have been enjoying the film overseas and in Japan. Also as a basic rule, my intention was to make a film that seen once would not be enough, so I think that's basically been the case overseas and in Japan. With "Paprika," the idea is that I wanted to create a film that is more like an attraction in an amusement park. For example, what's fun about a rollercoaster is not because you understand the angles it turns or the particular rate of acceleration or anything like that, but it's fun and you enjoy it. I think "Paprika" has been created to have the same effect. If you think about times when you've had a very odd, interesting or curious dream and you wake up and are a little astounded and a little bit dazed, and it makes you think about why you had such an odd dream. If people have the same effect after watching the movie, then that would be great. If you're the type of person who wants to know more about that dream you had and why you had it, then it would be great if you watch the movie again."

More on the parade:

"For example, people are less religious compared to 100 years ago, and traditional icons have lost their real meanings and are now mere fashion items. And during the years of rapid economic growth, people have thrown away cars and appliances that can still be used, and repeatedly gone through the buy-and-trash cycles.  As I thought about the trash, I cultivated the image of them coming back to real life through the dream world.  I saw the parallel connection between that “trash” and the suppressed dreams and the unconscious state that modern age people have ignored."

on repeating scenes in his movies:

"“Repetition” is a common phenomenon seen in our dreams, and therefore I did attempt to adopt the idea in Paprika. Actually I have used repeating images not only in Paprika, but in my previous works such as Perfect Blue and Sennen Joyu [Millennium Actress].  Repetition of similar scenes undergoing slight changes is very dreamlike, and also, it is an effective way of expressing the mental/emotional changes within the dreaming character, along with the passage of time. If the scenes are almost the same, but have an obvious but slight change, the audience would definitely focus on that point.

The importance lies in the obviousness at a glance, and since it is very visual, it would be hard to implement this in novels and literary works.

The more similar the scenes are, the more striking the changes.  It is similar to music where the same motif repeats itself like A、A'、A''…undergoing changes and developing into variations, and I think dreams and visual expressions are musical at the same time."

on his creative process:

" I wouldn’t have a hard time coming up with creations and expressions if I knew what kind of stimulation I need, or what kind of condition I should be in to get inspiration.  That way I should be able to meet all the deadlines, but unfortunately, I haven’t acquired it yet.

In Paprika, I found it very difficult to come up with the images of dream scenes.  Those dream people don’t follow logic or linguistic connections, development, or coherency.  In other words, dreams unfold in one’s right brain, not the left, controlled by its visual connections.

And that means, the more linguistically and logically I pile images up, the farther away I end up from what’s characteristic of dreams. But of course, I can’t think of ideas in my sleep, so when preparing the storyboard, I actively utilized the idea of “association.”

In this process, I see things around me, like collections of paintings and photos, music and creations at our work, the dreams and experiences I had, and conversations with the staff.  And from there, an image occurs, and I keep associating the images vaguely to other things, and after a while I come across this image that I never would have even expected.  I draw that image, and once again keep thinking of associated images.  I narrow them down into one image and draw it again, and this just keeps going.

What’s important when choosing the images is how well they go with the picture, and not with the scenario or with the story.  When connecting the images, I had to be careful not to have similar and linked images adjacent to each other.  If they are linked, you don’t see the jump, but at the same time, if the jump is too big, you won’t be able to tell the connection.  I wanted the images to unfold in unexpected ways, but still be subtly understandable.  This kind of standard was a delicate one to work on, and that should explain why the completion of the storyboard was greatly delayed."

on sexuality in paprika:

"I didn’t really think sexual metaphor and metonymy were necessary as a part of the plot, but since dreams reflect suppressed sexual desires, needless to mention what Freud said, I thought it was indispensable to this movie which has got a lot to do with dreams.

However, sexual depiction is more obvious in the original, adding more appeal to it.  But if we kept the same kind of atmosphere in the film version, it would be pornography under certain circumstances.  But also, if we eliminated the sexual overtones, the dreams would just be an eccentric theme park.  The scary, dark sides of dreams would be lost.  Dreams are fun and mysterious, and at the same time they scare you beyond your imaginations.   I’ve mentioned earlier that I put importance on “Tai (opposition, contrast),” but I found the double and multi-sidedness of dreams also as important.

In the movie Paprika, I believe the most obvious sexual expression is seen when Osanai captures Paprika and then sticks his hands inside her to tear her apart.  This is nearly rape, but this is what I came up with to show the direct sexual expression in the original in a form other than sex.

And actually the importance of this scene lies not only in the shocking sexual expression, but also in the childish desire and personality of Osanai who tries to use his force to control her.  This reflects his selfishness of not accepting her entire personality but only picking out what he finds favourable.  That’s why he doesn’t desire the Paprika-Atsuko personality as a whole, but lusts the Atsuko part, resulting in him extracting Atsuko from Paprika’s body.

On the other hand, Tokita, the man who says he swallows anything, is the complete opposite of Osanai.  He accepts Paprika and Atsuko as a whole, and I think that’s why Atsuko realizes her love for him towards the end.

And there’s one more image I had concerning the sexual overtone.  I considered Paprika, who enters the clients’ dreams to treat them, as “hetaira,” a sibyl and prostitute of  ancient Greece and Asia who had sex with the worshippers to give them divine revelation and blessings.

I guess I didn’t hesitate giving the heroine Paprika a sexual overtone because I considered her the modern age “hetaira.”"

[thehandworld]

Words that Gokudera Hayato was kidnapped were all around the Vongola base, everyone was put on alert, and everyone was working to find clues or anything that could say that the Storm was alive. And Rokudo Mukuro wasn't different.

Did Mukuro really care about the storm? Yes. But he would never admit it, as the Male Mist Guardian was now in his room, closing his eyes as he started to walk around the dream's worlds. He once had a connection with the Right-Hand Man, so it was easy for him to figure out his way to his mind.

What wasn't easy was to fight the absurd amount of nightmares, there were so many of them that it took Mukuro about a day, just to be able to reach where Hayato's mind was.

A white room? As he walked closer to the storm's mind, he could feel the panic, he felt the torments, there was still a small light resisting the torture, but Mukuro could also see that it was close to snapping. Gently, if Rokudo wanted to help he would need to treat this with caution and care.

"Gokudera Hayato." First letting his presence be known, as he approaches the Storm, the flinch and jump the other gave him, made Mukuro stop at a safe distance from the other. "Easy. I'm not here to hurt you."

Mukuro? The storm couldn't believe in him, that was probably another hallucination that soon would leave him alone or make him stay and make everything worse. Fuck off! I... I know this isn't real!

"Are you sure about that?" The Mist gently walked towards the other, placing his hand over his eyes, that was it, Mukuro needed to help him, he couldn't have the Storm's mind snapping right now. "I'm here. Look." He changes the white room to Hayato's teenage bedroom.

Hayato was confused when he could see again, the room he lived in, his clothes, even the smell and the feeling, as he took a deep breath and sloped into the floor. "Try the piano Hayato." With that he would gently sit in the chair and start to play it, the sound gently hitting him as he keeps playing it, finally having some sound in his mind.

Mukuro was quiet in listening to it, as it seemed that bought him some time, quite honestly he was glad that he could see Hayato's memories before, otherwise, he wouldn't know what his room looked like.

As the Storm was distracted by the piano, the Male Mist now was busy trying to figure out clues of where he was, but there wasn't much about a white room, and he couldn't actually leave said room, as he was limited by Hayato's body. But worse than that, if his illusions were affecting the Storm that much, to a point he was actually so happy. Things weren't looking great.

So right now Mukuro knew three things, one he needed to be there with the Storm, otherwise he would snap and probably break, two they needed to find him quickly because no matter how much Mukuro did, the Storm also needed people and physical contact, and three, what he could do to help? He needed to think quickly.

The piano and the color of his room, were probably enough for him for now, as Mukuro kept using his powers, his hands sending a text to Hibari.

[Text: We need to find the Storm. White Room Torture. He will go crazy.]

That is all he sends to Hibari, as he gets back to pay attention in Hayato, as Mukuro watches the other relaxing and distracting himself. As he sits down closer to the other. "Gokudera? Is there anything you remember before here?" As of now, it is a matter of trying to figure out what the bomber remembers.

Nothing much... I remember... I was... In a mission? Something about a family that I knew... And then it went sideways, ambushed, and... When I woke up I was here... With closed eyes, the storm kept playing the piano glad to have music filling himself once again.

"That is a start. Thank you." As Mukuro caressed his head gently, he could feel the storm leaning in his hand, while Mukuro knew he wasn't there physically, apparently, that was a reality for Hayato, as he felt it and was even slightly purring. The male mist took a deep breath, yeah, he needed to treat everything with care.

"You know I'm here, right? But I'm also not here?"

Yeah... I'm guessing either a dream or illusion?

"Illusion in the white room. We are looking for you as we speak. But I need you to keep yourself sane, I will stay so to help and you won't lose yourself in bad hallucinations, but remember, these are illusions."

Thanks, Mukuro. If there is a camera, they will only think I lost my head.

"Yes. So come on, everything will be alright."

As the storm plays on the piano he gently hums, as he relaxes, if before he was in pure despair, panic, going crazy, now at least he was calmer. While he knew it was illusions, and he felt the flames of illusion, at least it was something he knew, and with someone he trusted.

Gokudera wasn't sure how long it's been since he was kidnapped, but at least he knew now that this mental torture had come to an end, with Mukuro's help.

AI-less Whumptober - Alt Prompt 5 - White Room Torture @ailesswhumptober

As he opened his eyes, the Storm couldn't believe it, there was no color in that room, it was purely white, it also had some type of cushion on the walls, floor, and ceiling as to make it fluff, probably so people won't hit their head against the hard floor and wall, to bleed.

The bed seemed to be drilled into the floor so he couldn't lift it, as it was a box, all he could do was take off the mattress from the bed, and even then the box was also covered in cushions. In a corner, there lies a built-in bathroom with a sink over it, so minimize space, being the only hard thing in the whole room.

Even though it was metal, the whole thing was also white, the eerie silence as he looked at his clothes, also all white. Before he was captured, he made sure to get his rings off, especially the Vongola Storm Ring, and give it to Uri. So now he felt awkwardly naked without his rings, chains, or earrings.

How long did he pass out? Fuck, without a window and locked in a full white room, he knew exactly what type of torture was that and he knew... Gokudera Hayato knew how fucked he was.

Sensory deprivation, no colors, nothing to give a hint of day or night, he felt anxious, for someone who was often around with loud explosions, or any type of music, his brain was going to be under such a hard pressure. Since he was a child Gokudera couldn't live in pure silence, the silence reminded him of the sound of chains, the wet sound of a sweaty body behind him.

Oh fuck... Biting his lower lips, he knew exactly what he would face from now on till the moment of his rescue. If he was quite honest, he would prefer 100% to be in a cage beaten up than where he was right now. He would like, any other type of torture than this one.

As his breath starts to come out rushing, no air is kept inside of his lungs, clutching his hand over his chest. The panic wave grows steady as he falls over his knees, short and quickly breathes as the Storm closes his eyes.

Whimpers left his mouth as he shook and trembled, he was pretty sure it wasn't even a few minutes and he was already panicking, his whole body shook as his mind started to shatter. No... No... He wasn't ready to go back to that place... He wasn't ready to go back to that mental state.

Bitting his lower lips hard, as he tried to remember something good. Like his friends, or... He couldn't think of good things, as the color was slowly fading from everything. Shaking his head, trying to bring himself to be stable, he couldn't let this win over him. He was better than that!

He was Decimo Vongola's Right-Hand man! He... Was the Decimo Storm Guardian! He could handle that. He was a male adult, he could handle a bit of torture until he was rescued. Taking deep breaths as he tries to calm down the panic and the anxiety growing inside of him.

By instinct he moved his hand to the pockets of his pants to get a cigarette, but finding nothing in there, oh yeah... That was taken. Nothing to panic. Everything is okay... Everything is okay. Walking towards the bed and so lying down, looking at the ceiling.

No sounds, no smell, no reference of day and night, nothing to do, no color, just him and a white room. He could do this... He could... Who was he fooling? He couldn't do that. Maybe for a few hours, but soon he knew, he was going to go crazy, wanting to hurt himself, wanting to find a way to leave, crazy to do anything just to get out of that white room.

Closing his eyes as he tries to relax, not able to even see the dark, as there is a white lamp directly in his eyes, so when he closes his eyes he would still see white. The only way he thought was letting his arm fall over his eyes, that way projecting some shadow and so a bit of dark in his eyes.

That was the only relief he had from the white room, as he took a deep breath. Gokudera Hayato had a photographic memory, so he knew that his being taken was a really really really bad issue. As he carried a lot of high-value information as well, because of his position, so making him go crazy? Was the easiest way to get into his mind.

There was no way to project flames without his rings, so there was no way of him bringing color to that white room. As he bites his lower lip, it is in his best interest to try to keep his sanity, as best as he can in that white room.

As he starts to sing lowly, to himself so he can have something to hear in that quiet, silent room. Someone was going to find him... He needed to believe that and keep his mind focused on that. Ignoring the hallucinations he would see and hear, memories of when he was in a similar room like this when he was younger.

Yes... All he needed to do was hang in there, because differently from his younger self, now... Now he had a family that worried and cared about him, that was probably going crazy trying to find him. He just... Needed to hang in there...

Easy said than done.