#the idea that as will continues with his job he loses that idealism of helping people

[cryptidnextdoor]

antler symbolism in hannibal

so i’m super new to hannibal (im watching roti s1e11 rn) so im sure this has been said before, but i think it’s so interesting how out of any animal/nature imagery that could’ve been used, will hallucinates antlers. they always play like a cage or a weapon in the show, be it from stabbing people or crowding will into a space. it brings to mind cages of one’s own creation or self harm because of how antlers are grown, which makes sense for will because this is all, assumedly, in his head and may be controllable. he can stop police work at any time, but he doesn’t. antlers work again here, because they regrow and then are shed. he keeps coming back to scenes like this, keeps ‘regrowing��� his recreations of crimes through his empathy, and by doing so continues to cage himself or harm his psyche. it brings to mind the image of bucks getting their antlers caught on trees or each other, and dying due to their main weapon/power. idk, i just feel like it’s such a good nod to will being just as fucked up as hannibal, and it’s a really powerful visual and metaphorical symbol.

(i have another, less related thought on antler velvet and the potentials for that in the show in the tags. i’d port it up here but it got out of hand)

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 9

Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.

This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.

But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.

Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.

Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.

It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.

Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.

He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.

“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”

Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.

Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.

But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.

Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”

Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.

“I might just take you up on that.”

They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.

“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”

“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.

“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”

“Oh?” Steve asked.

“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.

Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.

“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.

“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”

“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”

“Oh.”

Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”

Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”

“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.

More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?

He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.

That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.

But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.

Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.

He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”

“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”

“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.

She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”

“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”

Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”

“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”

“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”

“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”

“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”

“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”

He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.

Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.

And then the ribbing began.

-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane

-He totally is!!- Simon

-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve

-Pics!- Simon

-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane

-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence

-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane

Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.

-Meet Nadia

-Lucky guy!- Simon

-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane

-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(

-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence

-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane

-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon

-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence

-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve

-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve

There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.

He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.

It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.

Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.

Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.

They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.

Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.

He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.

He could do this.

He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

Not so long ago, a friend brought to my attention a passage from Deadly Fortune that really sheds some light on how Nero sees the world.

He believes that there's no inherent morality to the universe, except for the morality imposed upon it by those in power. It's essentially Vergil's "might controls everything" slogan, but as a real ideology instead of a mere reaction to trauma.

The same friend shed some light on Nero's feelings toward Kyrie. As much as he admires her selflessness and compassion, he acknowledges that as a human civilian, she has no strength to act on her ideals. This is precisely why he believes he has to be strong, to stand up for what Kyrie believes in.

This makes me wonder what would happen if Kyrie's ideals changed.

In my "Kyrie gains demonic minions like V's" plot (all details in my pinned post), Kyrie allows many Fortunians to be subjugated and tormented by demons she has chosen not to form pacts with, due to their cruelty toward her and her family, and for taking her kindness for granted. Would Nero stand by her as he always has?

With the above in mind, I'm inclined to say no. He would relate to Kyrie's bitterness, and might take a little too long to admit that she's crossing a line, but ultimately he loves Kyrie for her goodness, not the other way around.

At the same time, I'm not sure he believes in those ideals strongly enough to stand against Kyrie. She's his role model, his reason for fighting. If she no longer fit into that role, I think Nero would just walk away.

In that passage mentioned above, Nero remarks on a scene in Devil May Cry 4, where Kyrie shields a child from an attacking Scarecrow with her own body. Nero remarks on the futility of the gesture, that they'd both get torn apart anyway. This sheds some light on another scene from Devil May Cry 5, after Dante loses to Urizen, when Nero callously walks away from the Qliphoth as a civilian is impaled by a root. He believes in himself less than ever in this moment, and he isn't one to throw his life away for a good cause if he knows it's hopeless.

Nero fights for Kyrie and her ideals, and if he could no longer believe in that, I don't even think he'd continue being a devil hunter. He might even lose his powers, Spider-Man 2 style, as it is implied that he gets his powers back at the end of Devil May Cry 5 because he found a new reason to fight. He might get some menial job to make ends meet, but he really has nothing to live for at that point.

And what I like about this outcome is that it finally presents an opportunity to tie the Kyrie plot into the Machiavelli Duology (also explained in my pinned post). If the Kyrie plot and her falling out with Nero happened before the Trish/Lucia/Lady side of events really kick off, it could explain why he doesn't get involved. Maybe Nico alludes to what went down in Fortuna, mentions trying to get in touch with Nero, but to no avail.

As for what solves this whole mess...

I think I've said before that I like the idea of Dante being the one to get through to Kyrie. He helps her understand that fighting for the good of humanity doesn't have to mean being nice to them, as he consistently does the right thing while also being an unpleasant jerk very frequently. Kyrie finds a way to be true to herself without totally giving in to hate.

And conversely, perhaps Vergil is the one who gets through to Nero. He's the furthest thing from Kyrie's ideals of kindness, and yet Nero stepped in between him and Dante to save him anyway, which began Vergil's own path to healing and growing. Nero did this primarily because he remembers the pain of losing Credo, even after the awful things he participated in. Nero realizes that if saving someone like Vergil can be worthwhile, then it'd be foolish to give up on Kyrie.

I could imagine Vergil encountering a depowered Nero, and provoking him to fight, announcing his intent to make good on his promise not to lose this time. Mocking him about his lost power, until Nero becomes motivated (hehe) enough to trigger and kick Vergil's ass again.

[carniferous]

Me and the bad bitch I pulled by framing his brother of murder .. so fucking real pls continue

absolutely let's get into it....

'me and the bad bitch i pulled by framing his brother for murder' specifically comes from my idea of like. if regulus survived the cave and the war ended as per canon and then he went on to hunt for the remaining horcruxes whilst peter is also looking for a horcrux to bring voldemort back with. they could meet. and they could have the most fucked up philosophically twisted situationship everrrr bound by this fragment of voldemort's soul that both of them Need for opposite reasons. both of them feeling that cruel twist of irony that once again they are bound by voldemort, a man they cannot help but respect and fear even while viewing him as a little beneath them. both of them having a vague disgust for the other that can Only manifest in psychosexual torture.

more broadly i like regulus and peter in the sense that they are diametrically opposed to each other. they are incapable of liking each other because they represent to each other the Worst Possible Choice either of them could have made (from their perspective -- regulus cannot imagine loneliness like peter has willingly chosen, and peter cannot imagine powerlessness like regulus has willingly chosen). and for that exact reason, they cannot ignore or forget each other! they're fascinated with each other the way ppl are fascinated with gruesome suicide. the way ppl are fascinated with how their lives could've played out if they had approached the crossroads of their life and chosen the Other path.

and unlike pairings with sev, i like how both regulus and peter's personal angst is not wrapped up in how they existed on the Outside of adoration and respect and admiration. they are not characters who stewed in personal loathing, both of their arcs hinge on action and choices and the desire to assert themselves upon the world. in my opinion, although reg was lonely and peter was resentful, they both were fairly comfortable with who they were -- there's a degree of arrogance in that, and they both recognize that in each other, and they perversely enjoy recognizing it.

i think they fuck a few times in a sort of high-handed hand-jobby (laugh reel) way. they're playing gay chicken but it's "you lose if you acknowledge the unspeakable tragedy that exists between us without which we would have nothing to say to one another" it's fun for them to pretend that the only thing they have to argue about is their Philosophical World View. they think they're recreating the dialogues of plato as they give each other uncomfortably dry hand jobs but it always falls a little short because of the Thing. The Thing They Don't Talk About. and then voldy's soul is just sitting there like a freaky little homunculus

here are some images:

bonus: if you have read tgcf you will already know this but the main antagonist of tgcf has this weird 800-year-long obsession and carefully cultivated power dynamic with the main character that stems from the fact that their characters are Direct mirrors of each other. and the dynamic involves the antagonist meticulously creating scenarios that he hopes will destroy the protag's faith in humanity and love and compassion and the novel ends with a confrontation of those ideals in which the protag says their similar pasts have Nothing to do with the way the antagonist turned out. and that him losing faith in humanity was a choice he made and not inevitable at all. and the protag proves this by refusing to choose anything except love. this too is regpeter

[theamityelf]

Trying to imagine Kamakura Makoto losing his chill

I feel like, on the surface, the change would be subtle. His normally stoic expression is a little tighter, his jaw set.

But normally he's just floating through life learning and helping people where he can. Now, he has an objective: He has to stop them from conducting any new trials of the Kamukura Project.

I'm thinking he goes to his class. For the first time, he actually tells them everything that happened to him, everything that happened to the others, and every reason it can't be allowed to continue. He'd use all of his talents and all of theirs to track down everyone who knows about the project.

His intention is to cordon off every scientist who knows how to continue the program and do everything in his power to prevent them from ever doing so, without killing them and ideally without hurting them. This is where both the original Makoto's mercy and the cold pragmatism instilled by the Kamukura Project really show themselves.

He might decide to keep them in a basement as perpetual dependents who he will have to feed and check on every day forever. He might decide to just conduct memory procedures on all of them so they are no longer capable of doing even the normal parts of their jobs, or classically condition or brainwash them to the same end.

I think Junko would try to twist the situation to cause things to go despairfully wrong, but like I mentioned a while back, Makoto has known this whole time that she was duplicitous. He just didn't think it was important at the time, but now it is, and I think he would be able to counter her attempts to be sneaky in ways that would shock her.

His disposition through all of this would be pretty matter-of-fact, and he'd make it a priority not to hurt anyone, but just the idea that this guy who has been passive since the very start of the project is suddenly going behind the other Kamukuras' backs to kidnap people for super goal-oriented reasons would be a surprise to pretty much everyone.

And to the scientists he captures, he would pretty straightforwardly say, "You're very lucky my other friends don't know I have you here. They would certainly kill you."

[meiliarotten]

Pegging With a Side of Masochism

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairing: Medic x Fem!Reader

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Once again, I have no summary for this other than Reader is shy and pegs Medic. Have fun!

Tags: Masochism, pegging, scratching, soft femdom, dom/sub undertones, bottom Medic

Word Count: 3.7k

The Masterlist

Full mooned nights were never lacking when it came to romantic atmosphere. On its own, nighttime offered lovers the cover of darkness, a promise of secrecy and intimacy. The light of a full moon was a bonus, as it bathed everything in amorous silver tones, creating the most beautiful setting for seduction to take place.

Of course, the atmosphere was only half of the appeal in such situations. The other half was who you experienced it with, and you certainly weren’t lacking in that department either. After all, you could easily and gladly lose yourself in the sensation of Medic’s bare skin against yours and the way he kissed his way from your face down to your neck and collar bone.

Your clothes were already discarded on the floor next to the bed without a care, but Medic had somehow managed to remain somewhat clothed, in his pants and dress shirt, which seemed very unfair to you. So you quickly worked to remedy that, fumbling with his belt and unbuttoning his shirt in between feverish kisses and caresses.

The two of you explored each other as you had many times before, illuminated perfectly by the moonlight that poured through the small window in Medic’s private quarters. Just enough light so that you could see each other, and also just enough light that you could see the item that had occupied your thoughts since the moment Medic had suggested it to you.

You had agreed at the time, and tried not to dwell on the idea until you absolutely needed to. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to try it. You just knew that if you over thought it, you would just scare yourself away. But now the time had come, and you were confronted with the object of your apprehension sitting on the nightstand just a few feet away.

A strap on lay next to a bottle of lube. You tried to ignore the items at first, just letting yourself enjoy the foreplay, but when you were in such close proximity to it, you couldn’t help but worry. It wasn’t even that intimidating. It was simple, matte black, and the most concerning thing about it was its slightly larger than average size. Even that shouldn’t have worried you. You weren’t going to be the one taking it. Still, your eyes were drawn to it, and every time you looked at it you were filled with a conflicting mix of nervousness and eagerness.

Eventually, the stress became too much. If one of you didn’t make a move soon, your anxiety would overcome you, and you would no doubt regret not trying it later. It was best to treat this like ripping off a bandaid, assuming that you would enjoy it once you got started.

So, although it pained you to do so, you pulled away from Medic’s eager mouth, which had still been traversing the sensitive skin of your neck as you pondered your next move.

“I, uh-“ you stammered, glancing towards the nightstand, unsure how to proceed. “I think I’m ready to try it.”

Medic, followed your gaze and grinned eagerly the moment he realized what your vague statement was referring to.

“Are you sure?” He asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Yes.” You nodded as you got up from the comforting softness of the bed, picking up the harness and trying to look confident with it, even though the tangle of straps and buckles intimidated and confused you.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” Medic asked.

“No, I’m sure I can figure it out,” you said, even as your faux confidence began to waver. “You need to prepare right? Do that in the meantime.”

Ideally, you would have prepped Medic yourself, but your hands were already shaking just holding the strap on. Besides, Medic had bigger hands than you. He could probably do a better job.

You continued to fumble with the harness for a bit. Medic repressed a laugh as he watched you test the straps, trying to figure out exactly how the confounding thing in your hands was supposed to work.

“Trust me, I can do this,” you said, more to reassure yourself than him, your face flushing with embarrassment.

“Alright, liebling. I believe you,” he said, chuckling softly as he reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, squeezing the contents onto his fingers.

Meanwhile, you lifted the straps of the harness, deciding the first order of business was to untangle them. At least you assumed they were tangled, but the longer you struggled with it, the less sure you were. Maybe you were actually tangling them more? Medic’s soft sighs as he worked himself over didn’t make it any easier for you to concentrate on what you were trying to do.

Finally, when everything looked right, you then had to face the challenge of actually getting the strap on to fit, tightening and loosening the harness as you shifted it up your legs and around your hips. Eventually, you seemed to have it figured out. It felt a bit strange, but you figured it was just because you weren’t used to it yet.

You took some solace in the fact that your difficulties in getting this thing on had given Medic plenty of time to prepare himself. Watching him gasp as he fucked himself with his fingers was a rather nice sight. However, you hoped that soon you would be the one drawing those sounds from him.

“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” you said, feigning self assurance despite the fact that you were still tugging at the straps in an attempt to make them feel less uncomfortable.

Medic looked at you and gave a soft laugh. He reached forward, adjusting some of the straps, loosening or tightening them to fit your body more ideally. Clearly he had experience with this. It still felt awkward to wear, but it was far more comfortable, even if you were a bit embarrassed that you needed his help after all.

“Not bad at all for your first try,” Medic said, admiring you as you stood before him. “You look absolutely irresistible.”

You blushed at his blatant admiration. He began to coax you back onto the bed, gently taking you by the hand and guiding you towards him. You settled yourself between his legs.

“So, I guess we should get started, if you’re ready?” You said, trying to keep yourself from stammering as you leaned over Medic. He nodded and handed you the lube.

You spread a generous amount on the strap. For a moment you were actually worried you had applied too much, but then concluded it would be better to have too much than too little. The last thing you wanted to do was cause any pain, and any excess could easily be wiped off with a spare tissue or something.

Medic laid back beneath you. It was a very different view to see the doctor bottoming, rather than you looking up at him as he ravished your body. Still, while his current posture and position seemed to convey submission, a look at his expression told you that he intended to be in control, as usual. In a way, you actually found that quite comforting. You weren’t sure you were ready to be completely dominant just yet.

He looked up at you expectantly, clearly waiting for you to take initiative. With a deep breath, you lined yourself up and pressed into him slowly, being met with a sharp inhale as you entered.

“I’m sorry, I’m not hurting you, am I?” You stammered, your anxiety around the situation returning suddenly.

Medic shook his head, reaching up to cup your cheek in a gesture of reassurance. You calmed down almost immediately, relaxing into his touch.

“No dear, trust me, I’ll tell you if it’s uncomfortable. You’re doing a very good job so far. Just keep going,” he said, pulling you down into a gentle kiss.

After a few moments you pulled away, smiling softly before continuing to move, still adjusting to the foreign feeling of the strap on. You paid particular attention to Medic’s reactions, measuring how receptive he was to certain movements, making sure you were making him feel good. His low moans seemed to indicate that you were doing well. Part of you wanted to draw even louder sounds from him, but you forced yourself to show restraint, keeping your pace slow and careful.

“That’s it, nice and steady,” he whispered. “Once you get used to it you can start thrusting a bit harder, ja?”

You nodded and Medic watched you intently, relishing the sight of you thrusting in and out of him, your hips moving a bit more surely with each forward motion. However, it was still rather restrained. Medic was curious to see just how rough he could get you to be.

As for you, all of your focus was still on his pleasure, on making sure you were doing things right. You knew you were still thrusting somewhat shallowly. It was obvious that you were new to this, and you were trying to make up for your lack of experience by concentrating on your angle, knowing if you got it just right you could have Medic seeing stars.

Medic moved his hands to your hips, guiding you and gently encouraging you to go faster. You complied hesitantly, nervous that you would hurt him or do something wrong. Still, a part of you knew that your worrying was only making the experience more difficult.

‘This is gonna feel good for both of us, just calm down’ you thought to yourself, taking a few deep breaths. You quickened your pace, letting go of your fears.

“There we go, mädchen. You’re getting a bit more confident now. Good job,” Medic crooned, now guiding your hands to rest on his hips. “You can hold on here, to keep yourself steady.”

You hesitated, your courage waning slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Medic laughed, as if the very idea that you were capable of hurting him was amusing.

“That’s sweet, liebling, but you don’t have to worry about breaking me. Besides, I don’t mind a little pain,” he said, flashing you a devious grin that made you blush.

So you obeyed, gripping Medic’s hips for leverage and picking up where you left off, this time daring to go harder and deeper. Medic’s reactions were certainly rewarding enough, as he began making all manner of appreciative sounds, especially whenever you gripped his hips especially tight, occasionally digging your nails into his skin. Now this was what Medic wanted to see from you.

Of course, none of those sounds could really compare to the way he moaned when you hit his sweet spot. The way he cried out when you got that angle just right actually scared you at first. You stopped moving, unknowingly resting the strap right against his prostate.

“Oh shit, was I too rough?” You asked, genuinely concerned and completely oblivious to what you were actually doing.

“No, no, don’t stop,” Medic begged, tugging at your hips in a desperate plea to get you to start moving again. “That’s a very good spot there, bitte, keep going, liebling!”

Medic begging was a completely foreign sound to you, but damn, it certainly got you going. He sounded so desperate for you. Continuing to thrust into him, you made sure to make use of certain angles that made him make all those delicious noises for you. You familiarized yourself with that most sensitive area, trying to ignore your own increasing arousal. Seeing him squirm and cry out all because of what you were doing, it was a sense of control that you found intoxicating.

“Does this feel good, doctor?” Am I doing a good job?” You were asking genuinely, but beneath that sincerity was definitely something a bit more flirtatious, maybe even teasing. A part of you already knew that you were doing a good job by the way Medic was panting beneath you. You just wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to make him say it.

Medic somehow managed to collect himself enough to grin up at you, obviously noticing the slight teasing edge in your voice. Perhaps he intended to respond in an equally self-assured manner, but a quick thrust to his prostate sent him spiraling once again and whatever response he had prepared dissolved into a flurry of moans.

“Gott, You’re doing good, mädchen. You’re doing so good for me.” He groaned, his hands falling from your hips to clutch at the sheets around him. “Keep moving, bitte, just like that!”

“Of course,” you said, beaming with pride as you continued to drive Medic wild with each thrust. God, you were fucking soaked, completely hypnotized by Medic’s reactions. You were doing that. You were giving him that pleasure. Perhaps this was a power dynamic that you could get used to.

You gasped as his hands once again flew to your hips, his grip now firm enough to bruise. You winced, your movements stuttering slightly. In a moment of clarity, Medic loosened his hold on you, not realizing how rough he had been.

“Are you alright?” He asked, apologetically caressing where he had seized you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” You said, surprised at how disappointed you were when he loosened his grasp on you.

Medic raised an eyebrow at your reaction, letting you resume your movements before once again clutching your hips roughly, making you whimper. A knowing smirk spread across his face as moved his hands up your waist and over your chest, squeezing the soft flesh especially hard in spots he knew were sensitive. His movements were calculated and careful, until another particularly good thrust from you caused him to lose control again.

“Mein Gott!” Medic moaned as he clawed at your back, making you gasp and buck harder in response to the sweet stinging sensation. He repeated the action. Sometimes it was purposeful, other times he was just grasping for anything in a blissed out frenzy. It wasn’t long before tell tale red scratches began to form down your back and ass. The pain drove you wild, making you go faster.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this? Having me run my nails down your soft skin like that? It seems that I’m not the only one here who enjoys a little pain,” Medic gasped. His words were obviously meant to tease you, but they lacked any real bite given that he was barely keeping himself from dissolving into delirious moans.

He sounded so close. You made a point to tighten your hold on his hips, possibly leaving bruises in your wake. Neither of you were getting out of this unscathed. You would mark each other. You would claim each other.

You listened as Medic’s moans began to reach a peak. He trembled beneath you and you watched as with a few more well placed thrusts, he came undone, releasing onto his own stomach and chest.

You bucked your hips against him just a few more times, watching him squirm at the overstimulation before you carefully pulled out, rolling to lay next to him, not even bothering to undo the harness yet. You found that you were also trembling as your adrenaline subsided and fatigue began to set in, mingling strangely with the arousal that you were still desperate to satisfy.

Medic panted as he came down from his high, and you admired his blissful expression as he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Look at you,” Medic said after several moments of silence, a slight laugh in his tone. “You look quite proud of yourself, liebling.”

“I did well, didn’t I?” You asked, allowing yourself a bit of a smug smile. You figured you had earned that, at the very least.

“Oh ja, sehr gut,” he murdered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You did extremely well.”

You beamed at his praise, but the heat pooling between your hips and the restlessness that came with it were still begging to be satiated. You managed to ignore it, letting Medic bask in the afterglow for a little longer.

Absent-mindedly, you ran a hand over your lower back and ass, wincing slightly as you made contact with the scratches. You hissed at the pain, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room. He really had done a number on you.

“Oh dear, it seems I got a bit carried away,” he said with a short laugh, glancing at the red lines that decorated your skin. “I could fix that up with the Medi Gun tomorrow morning if you would like.”

As you thought about that, you were conflicted. On one hand, there was a sense of shame at possibly having to walk around with these scratches visible on your body, making it obvious to everyone what you were up to behind closed doors. On the other hand, there was a sense of pride that you felt at making Medic lose control enough to do this to you. In that sense, the scratch marks were like trophies.

“I’ll think about it,” you said, concluding that it would be a decision for ‘future you’ to worry about.

Medic nodded before finally moving to sit up off of the bed, grabbing a handful of tissues from the nightstand to clean himself off. He tossed them into a conveniently placed waste bin before dropping to his knees on the floor, cushioned by the discarded clothes that were left laying there. He beckoned for you to sit on the edge of the bed and you perked up immediately at the gesture.

Medic began to undo the straps of the harness once you were comfortably seated on the edge of the mattress. Once they were loose enough, he slipped the toy off of you, revealing how wet you really were.

“It seems that you still need to be tended to, don’t you mädchen?” He asked, looking up at you from between your thighs.

“God, yes,” you sighed, resting your legs on Medic’s shoulders, eager to finally have your own desire sated.

He started off by tenderly running his tongue along your entrance before dipping in completely. He kept a firm hold on your thighs and hips, dragging you even closer to him as he ravished you with his tongue. You were so aroused and sensitive, you couldn’t help but moan at his every move.

Still, you tried to ride out the high of control that you had felt earlier, not ready to lay back and let go just yet. You reached down to grip Medic’s hair as he went down on you, tugging gently and earning a growl from him that made you shiver.

“Well, aren’t you daring today?” He said, chuckling softly, his soft laughter vibrating against your clit and making you squirm. “I’ll allow it, dear. In fact, I think I rather like this dominant side of you.”

He moved from caressing your hips to your ass, firmly gripping the supple flesh there. You once again felt the residual sting of the scratches he had left there several minutes ago. He ran his tongue over your clit as he caressed you, creating an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. You tugged at his hair again, making him dig his nails into you, adding fresh marks to the canvas of your skin.

You moaned, and Medic noticed your reaction, continuing to leave marks along your body. You were so delightfully receptive to pain. He admired the way you arched off the bed and pulled at his hair as he drove you closer to the edge.

The conflicting sensations soon began to overwhelm you in the best possible way. Medic only worked more enthusiastically as you continued to cry out for him. He focused in on your clit as your moans reached a shrill peak, finally bringing you to climax.

Your legs were wrapped firmly around Medic’s shoulders as you rode out your orgasm, your body stiffening before you went completely limp on the bed, allowing Medic to remove your legs from his shoulders. Gently, he nudged you back onto your side of the bed.

You laid facing away from him, still breathless. Medic didn’t seem to mind, returning to bed and pulling you against him, letting you nestle yourself into the curve of his body. He wrapped an arm over you to hold you closer. Feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your body was comforting.

Just as sleep began to set in, you felt Medic pull away slightly, skimming his fingers carefully over your back. He made a small noise of concern that caught your attention.

“Gott, I really was rough on you,” he said, examining the patterns of red marks that covered your skin in rows and occasional cross hatches. He almost sounded apologetic.

“I enjoyed it,” you said, a hum of contentment in your voice. You were quick to reassure him that he hadn’t really hurt you. At least, not in any way that didn’t add to the pleasure.

Medic laughed, his own voice heavy with the onset of sleep. “A masochist- I should have guessed.”

“Oh, don’t tease me! You liked it too,” You said, laughing along with him.

“Even so, we should probably treat these-“ he began, only for you to cut him off. You rolled back over to face Medic, barely opening your eyes.

“No,” you said drowsily, throwing an arm over the doctor’s waist. “Just stay with me like this, please. We can deal with it in the morning.”

Part of you was aware that Medic knew best. Those scratches would probably sting even worse in the morning, and in a far less sexy way, but at the moment you didn’t care. That was a problem to be dealt with later. Medic could tell you he told you so then, but for now, you just wanted to stay in his arms until the sun came up.

Medic sighed in defeat, seeing how close to sleep you were. It would be a fruitless effort to convince you otherwise. “Very well, liebling.”

He pressed kisses softly to your lips and face before stroking your hair. You leaned into his embrace, and his breathing slowed as you both began to give in to the allure of sleep. You smiled contently, feeling the dull pain of the scratches left on your body juxtaposed with the soft sensation of Medic’s lips against yours and the gentle, comforting embrace he held you in as you drifted off.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Subaru [08]

Monologue

The following day, 

I went to report to Carla-san that Subaru-kun had regained consciousness.

After hearing my update, 

Carla-san gathered the other members in the living room,

and informed them about Subaru-kun’s status.

ー The scene starts in the dining lounge of the Violet Manor

Kou: I see. I’m glad Subaru-kun woke up. I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d survive at one point.

Yui: It’s just that he sustained some pretty nasty injuries, so he can’t get out of bed just yet. I believe it’d be best for him to get plenty of rest for now.

Azusa: Right. Still, I’m glad...That he’s safe.

Kou: I mean, he was pretty much covered in wounds from head till toe! Thank god none of them were fatal.

Laito: Well, I never feared for his life.

Carla: If he was injured to the point of not being able to get up, then I believe we should keep him away from the battlefield for a while.

However, I doubt the enemy will lessen their attack. If anything, it is highly possible that they will see this as an opportune time to strike once more.

If that happens, we will have no other choice but to face them with the four of us. I want all of you to be on top of your game.

Laito: I see. Guess no more sleeping on the job for me then.

Ahーah. Can’t Subaru-kun get better already?

Kou: Ehー!? You’ve been skipping this whole time up till now? Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?

Laito: I mean, there’s five of us, giving us one extra man, right? So it doesn’t make much of a difference if I’m not there.

Carla: However, that no longer applies now. Laito, you will have to work hard to make up for all of the times you’ve skipped so far.

Laito: Yeah, yeah.

Azusa: If Subaru can’t move, who will watch over Eve...?

Carla: We will have to appoint someone else to supervise here. I believe Eve will feel more reassured that was as well.

Laito: I’ll do it. All I’d have to do is be with her at all times, right? Leave it to me! That sounds like a job right up my alley!

Kou: No fair trying to one-up us like that. You’d much rather have me, right, Eve?

Yui: ( Oh no! At this rate, I might get separated from Subaru-kun...! )

...Uhm, I’ll be fine. Instead, would you let me take care of Subaru-kun?

Carla: ...Excuse me?

Yui: He got badly hurt while protecting me. Therefore, I believe I hold some responsibility in regards to this situation.

Carla: It was Subaru’s duty to keep you safe. There is no need for you to beat yourself up over it.

Yui: No, but, please let me do it. I want Subaru-kun to feel better as soon as possible.

Besides, I believe he could continue to fulfill his duty of supervising me while I take care of him.

Carla: Hmph...I see, you thought about this.

Very well. I shall leave you in charge of nursing him back to health.

I was thinking of assigning someone this role either way.

However, I cannot afford to lose another potential fighting force. You would indeed be the ideal candidate then.

Yui: I’m glad. Thank you very much...!

Carla: As long as you and Subaru remain in the same place, we can focus on the enemies lurking outside.

Yui: Don’t worry. I promise that I will stay by Subaru-kun’s side.

Kou: That lucky dog~

Laito: Eve’s such a saint.

Azusa: Eve...Take good care of Subaru, okay?

Yui: I’ll try my hardest to get him back in tip-top shape!

( Thank god. Everyone’s on board with my idea, so I’ll be able to stay with Subaru-kunーー )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Subaru’s room

Yui: Subaru-kun, aren’t you thirsty? Should I get you some water?

Tell me if lying down starts to hurt. I’ll help you shift your body.

Subaru: ...What’s your problem? You seem restless.

Yui: Ah, my bad. I guess I was being a little nosy. But I want to do everything I can for you.

Subaru: For the millionth time, just stay here. ...That’s the best thing you can do for me.

Yui: Subaru-kun...

Subaru: I’ll recover from these injuries in no time. So there’s nothin’ for you to worry ‘bout, ‘kay?

Yui: ...Yeah. You’re here with me, that alone is enough to make me feel reassured.

I’m content as long as we’re together, no matter what kind of strange things may happen around us.

Subaru: Strange things, huh...? We gotta think ‘bout how we’ll tackle that as well.

Like how their memories got messed up, or where we are right now...

Bein’ forced to fight each other to death without knowin’ why makes me feel sick.

Yui: Yeah...It hurts me a lot to see the others fight each other as well. 

I mean, they’re actual brothers facing each other in battle...

Subaru: You had to witness Ayato comin’ for my head, huh?

Yui: ...

Subaru: But he only did that because his memories have been altered as well.

He’d never do that if he was sane. I think.

Yui: Subaru-kun...

( I guess he does trust his actual brothers, despite the fact that they’re always arguing with one another. )

Right. Thanks. Let’s talk about this another time. I’m sorry for making you worried.

Subaru: It’s fine. If you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, you can always share it with me. W-We’re...a couple, right?

Yui: ( Subaru-kun...He gently grabbed hold of my hand. Even though he’s having a hard time moving around because of his injuries. )

( He’s trying to put me at ease. )

( I’ll try not to say anything too negative to avoid causing him extra worries. )

Subaru: ...Although I guess there’s not much I can do in my current state.

Yui: I guess we can simply see how things unfold until you get better.

Subaru: Yeah, good idea. There’s not much the two of us can do anyway.

All we can do is pray those guys don’t come and attack us again until then.

Monologue

After a few days,

Subaru-kun’s injuries had gotten a lot better.

In the meantime,

we were lucky not to get attacked by one of the other Houses again.

I was able to focus on taking care of Subaru-kun,

while he got some much-needed rest,

as we could prepare ourselves for what was to come.

I just hope we’ll be able to find a way,

to return to where we belong,

before another fight breaks outーー

With said thought in mind,

I continued to look after Subaru-kun today.

Yui: The small injuries have completely healed. Most of the deeper ones have closed up as well.

Subaru: Yeah. I got lucky that I was given the chance to slowly recover.

...Actually, no. I should thank you for takin’ such good care of me.

Yui: You got injured while protecting me, so I should be the one saying thank you.

I’m honestly so thankful that you’re still alive after sustaining such severe injuries.

Subaru: You’re exaggerratin’, idiot.

Yui: I’m not. We have to escape this place before the next fight takes place, or who knows who might get hurt next...

If only everyone would get their memories back and stop fighting over the title of Supreme Overlord...

Subaru: The Supreme Overlord, huh? It really pisses me off how everyone’s at the mercy of some bullshit legend.

Carla’s aiming to become the Supreme Overlord, but he hasn’t come for you yet, right?

Yui: Yeah. I think his plan is to have me concentrate on nursing you back to health for now.

Subaru: Knowing that guy, I was honestly worried that he’d try every possible method in the book.

I don’t know how much truth lies in the stories about the Supreme Overlord or ‘Sleeping Beauty’, but it all sounds like a load of bull to me.

Yui: Agreed.

Subaru: Hm? The tale of Sleeping Beauty...?

Yui: What’s wrong?

Subaru: Wasn’t there somethin’ slightly off about the story?

Yui: Uhm, I’m pretty sure it went as follows: ‘The Princess awakens through a kiss.’

I guess that would refer to when I woke up at the Church?

When I woke up, everyone had me surrounded, I was really surprised.

Subaru: Hold up! So that means you were woken up by one of those dudes kissin’ you...!?

Yui: I-I wasn’t, Subaru-kun! You’re getting the wrong idea! They didn’t kiss me!

Subaru: Really?

Yui: Yes!

Subaru: ...God, don’t give me a scare like that.

Oh well, I guess it’s just a dumb legend. One made up in this weird place on top of that.

Yui: It honestly got me sweating as well.

Subaru: Haah? Why?

Selection

→ Because you were panicking (♡)

Yui: You seemed completely shaken up so...I started to wonder if perhaps it really did go like that.

( I don’t think I did though. )

( But I don’t actually know what happened before I woke up... )

Subaru: Of course I’d start to panic! Not only do you always leave yourself vulnerable, but you tend to be oblivious when you least expect it.

Yui: Y-You think so...?

Subaru: ...I thought you were woken up by another guy’s kiss. S-So I just got jealous, okay...!?

→ I thought you’d get mad (🖤)

Yui: Because you looked kind of angry as well...I’m sorry if I said anything upsetting.

Subaru: You didn’t!

I just thought that you woke up ‘cause some other guy kissed you...!

Yui: ...Then were you jealous, perhaps?

Subaru: Che.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun...

Subaru: I won’t let anyone else have you, no matter what. No kissing. No nothing.

Yui: ...Yeah. I’m yours.

Subaru: I’m glad you realize.

Yui: ( Fufu, he’s turning red all the way to his ears. I guess he’s flustered? )

Laito: Nfu~ You guys are really rubbing it in my face, huh? 

*Thud*

Yui: ...Laito-kun, how long have you been there!?

Laito: I thought I made a pretty flashy entrance just now, but you didn’t notice at all?

I guess you guys were totally lost in your own little world?

Yui: ...

Subaru: Shut up.

Laito: Did love bloom between the two of you while she was taking care of you?

This sort of thing has a name, doesn’t it? ‘Something-something syndrome’? (1)

Subaru: I said shut up!

Laito: Eek, so scary~

Subaru: Laito, what are you here for? If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then spit it out already.

Laito: Carla wants to see Eve.

Subaru: ...Carla does?

Laito: Yup. He’s got something to discuss with her, apparently.

Yui: Carla-san? With me...?

( He’s asking for me and not Subaru-kun...I wonder what it could be about? )

Subaru: I’m going too.

Laito: That doesn’t sound like a good idea. You’re injured.

Subaru: I can move already. I was assigned to watch her, right? It’s my duty to stay by her side.

Laito: I see. I won’t stop you anymore then. Do as you wish.

Monologue

A sudden summoning from Carla-sanーー

This somehow made me feel anxious,

as I turned around to look at Subaru-kun, 

who apparently picked up on this and decided to come with me.

I just hope this bad hunch isn’t spot-on.

Praying for a good outcome,

I headed to the living room with Subaru-kun.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Laito could be referring to either ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, seeing as Yui is technically still ‘held captive’ at the Violet Manor, or the Nightingale Effect (called ‘Nightingale Syndrome in Japanese’) where a caregiver falls in love with their patient. 

[phoenixcatch7]

Because my brain has three fanfic ideas on rotation, I have of course gotten struck by the idea of reincarnating Ichigo Kurosaki into someone from ff7. But I'm torn - I can't decide which character to choose!

Obviously, I can't have him overwrite someone too different from him; it'll take out all the tension and character relationships. No one around him would believe it's the same person as before, and no one would trust him nor could he 'continue' to fill the original role. There'd be an intervention of some type, he'd lose his job, and be pretty quickly shunted out of the story, thematically (and literally). The dissonance would be too great. On the other hand, anyone too similar might lead to negligible differences to their original role in the story, bar the new overwhelming power, which again doesn't make for very good stakes.

You've got to achieve a good blend of before and after, to achieve that perfect sweet spot of believable assumptions and explanations for the change. 'We think he had amnesia' or 'we don't really know what happened, but trauma changes everyone' or even 'I wonder what happened when he was gone?'. You want to achieve that down but not gone energy, unintentional on the arriving character's side or not. So:

Options and explanations under the cut! (kinda long lol)

Aerith: Unconventional but huge potential!! Would be very cool indeed! Good parallels, good plot relevance to enter the final fight - there'd be some snags, mostly with the flowers and turks, and she's way more smiley than Ichigo lol. But the determination to help the community and (most of) the individuals in it remains, either through his help at the clinic or stubbornly maintaining and defending memorials to the dead. He's used flowers before, heck it's his opening scene. It's easy to imagine him seeing the affect greenery has in this new world and throwing his all into working with it like aerith did. Her connection to the lifestream, which is basically the reiatsu/afterlife of the world, would translate seamlessly to his sensory abilities. Heck, his full bring has green light effects!! It's perfect! And even if he followed canon and got killed he's got his shinigami form and copious amounts of bloodlust.

But fr imagine, it's cloud v sephiroth, the fate of the world hangs in the balance, sephiroth is obsessed with cloud - but what's this! It's aerith with a steel chair and a giant glowing sword!

(also I really don't care about the gender difference lol, so here Ichigo wouldn't either!)

Sephiroth: visually their ideal/true designs are very similar (long statement colour hair, very long thin sword, inhuman eyes, big billowing black coat/trousers) and it'd be annoying to have two people with such similar designs and bloodline selling points, but on the other..... I can't NOT have an Ichigo vs sephiroth, come on! If I went this route I wouldn't even bother changing the hair colour lmao, and it'd combine with his hollow characteristics perfectly! Wings AND horns!!! Strong 'I can be your angel or your devil' energy, new sword combos, his job is basically being the biggest scariest threat out there, which Ichigo excels at. But as an equivalent captain role, he'd also get stuck with the paperwork LMAO. Sucks to suck, pretty boy. And of course the jenova issue would just result in Ichigo and Co (zangetsu and ossan) eating her for breakfast, let's be real. He finds those papers he's burning the mansion to the ground himself, not nibleheim. Of course that means no world ending threat to kick-start the story, but hey, shrinras still around, which is basically the same thing.

They've got so many parallels; hybrid entities specially engineered to be (in)human weapons, raised oblivious to their true heritage, mothers purposely infected with monsters that got passed on to them, weapon and fighting prodigies of insane proportions rapidly out classing everyone around the despite their young age, a human shaped mf of a villain who claimed they did this on purpose to forge them into what they are today... Falling to their monstrous forms in rage and pain, voices whispering cruelty in their heads... But where sephiroth fell to madness and cruelty Ichigo responded with unexpected maturity, determination and was able to accept his demons as his own, and not be consumed. He came out the other side a better person. The potential is IMMENSE.

But.... Ichigo vs sephiroth. And the personality change would basically be an inversion XD.

Angeal: he was who I originally considered - a side character enough to be interesting, honour bound like Ichigo, big black special broadsword with special origins, down to adopt small children (like teenage (?) super soldiers) and would actually take very good care of them (if with a... Unique training style XD). Perfectly positioned to massively affect the story through small changes or be an amazing wildcard. The story would be able to be SOLDIER 1st domesticity too, which I love, and there'd be a wonderfully interesting dynamic with the other two as his massive new strength and skills become known, throwing off the long established power balance and getting the attention of Science. His own storyline in crisis core is ripe for aus. I had the idea of his old orange bleeding into his black hair and making it look like tiger stripes, but genesis has bright orange hair already and it'd be too similar lmao.

You could do so much with the similar codes of honour and how that plays into fighting people so much weaker than you and just comporting yourself when you're capable of that much damage. Angel's loyalty and honour being bound to shinra and SOLDIER vs Ichigos notorious and categoric refusal to bend the knee to authority and his history of stubbornly toppling similarly injust regimes. Not to mention the modern general loathing for... The very foundation of shinra, really lol. And the circumstances when that honour falls apart. Angel dropped it like a hot potato when his degradation started setting in (which, under the circumstances understandable if not to that degree) vs Ichigo who will go down with this ship UNTIL you touch a hair on his protected's heads and even then you'll get a proper burial.

But... I just can't make him work thematically. Out of everyone in the list, he's got the weakest connection to the world's fate. What satisfying ending could I use?? What would it be working towards? Curing the degradation, perhaps?

Genesis: I just... Don't like him as a character, I confess. His bull headed 'rivalry' and lack of care for collateral (even before the degradation) and constant sniping never endeared himself to me. It reminds me more of grimmjow or noitra than anything else. But I couldn't consider the other two and not also him, and he does come with the orange hair already! And the love of theatre! Ichigo loves Shakespeare especially, so I can definitely see him giving loveless a go and loving it (pun intended). He'd for sure be compelled by the lack of ending, especially given his own thoughts on fate. His ability with materia would differ greatly from Ichigo's norm, he who is horrendous at kido but fantastic at breaking it, so that'd be a problem. And again he suffers from lack of narrative weight on the world scale, but maybe something could be done with the G cells?? Them and S cells were both very similar after all. But nothing that wouldn't already be happening with sephiroth.

Taking this role would probably be the hardest for Ichigo of the three, but it'd be very interesting to see him stretch his literary analysis muscles (which, again - this is a Japanese teenage boy reading Shakespeare in the original middle English in his own time who then occasionally gives hard hitting monologues on the nature of fate and humanity and his hollow sure didn't that verbose and metaphorical from nowhere lol). The amnesia plot line would be very interesting indeed to work with, as long as he got a hair cut.

Zack: Zack is a Shiba through and through. He's fiercely loyal, capable, goofy and hardworking, a shooting star in the ranks and friends with the most unlikely people. He would and does endure the worst torture and saves Cloud. He leaves an enormous legacy, and dies a hero. If it weren't for his chill, happy go lucky golden retriever energy I'd have chosen him over the rest, but it's not a good match for Ichigo, it'd be a crying shame to lose that and have zack go unmourned. I think Ichigo and zack would get on EXCELLENTLY.

If Ichigo did reincarnate into him, I'd have to put it either right when he enters shinra, or surviving hojos lab with cloud. But Ichigo would probably just turn and leave if he wasn't solidly integrated, but by that point zack would have made too many friends XD! Surviving the lab would be the perfect cover for the new super insane strength/abilities and his new reticence, and he'd pretty quickly adopt Cloud so that'd be all well. He'd still be stuck with the effects of heavy mako poisoning like cloud, but hey. I feel he'd overshadow Cloud a LOT though in every way, which is a huge part of the story and the cloud-sephiroth thing isn't something I'm too happy to replace? Idk. It'd be very cool to see, admittedly. He could have tiger hair too!

Cloud finding out Zack isn't who he used to be would be heartwrenching though, possibly replacing a good chunk of the sephiroth gaslighting subplot that would be dropped. An identity reveal in these kinds of fics are rare, but it'd have so much payoff here.

Vincent: ok listen listen listen. Vincent gets a fresh start in a way very very few other characters do. With him Ichigos original personality could shine through the strongest, without any pre conceived notions from the people around him. However! His past and connections make him very well rooted in the grand scheme, should we use it right. He's already used to one feral op monster living rent free in his head (and the interplay of Chaos and Zangetsu, the hollow one especially, would be hilarious lol) and he wouldn't have to explain ANYTHING to anyone lmao. And his hair could do the tiger thing, he could do pretty much anything he wanted in regards to his powers! Hollow bits like horns and eyes? Sure! Quincy stuff with his gun? Why not! And he'd certainly join avalanche, given they woke him up. Ichigo already knowing of ff7 would work fantastically too, but it'd work great even if he went in blind. Vincent's main gun weapon and his solitary ways could remain or go, but it'd also be a good opportunity for Ichigo to flex his meagre quincy abilities, with old man zangetsu as his teacher. And he'd be a good choice (along with sephiroth) to portray Ichigo's feelings of being an outsider in this new and crazy world. Vincent's pretty out of place normally.

But either way you play sephiroths father he'd be so ready to try and save sephiroth once he finds out about lucrecia. Whether sephiroth would be willing to be saved, however... Also he could probably kill jenova lbr. I mean the hardest thing would be getting her head back from sephiroth. Also he'd love that tattered cape coat thing.

Cloud: and of course the most obvious for last - protagonist to protagonist! Letting his new friends assume his 'amnesia' isn't for the reason it actually is, a grouchy but loyal underdog beloved and trusted by the eclectic friends he leads, trying to uncover the truth of this body's past simultaneously before it comes back round to bite him and to discover who it is he's replaced to mourn, guessing at what he can't intuit, clueless as to basic world mechanics. Traumatised by the death of his mother. Struggling with identity issues and something in his head and so so so ready to kill g-d OR BECOME HIM. Spikey hair.

But it's just too obvious and it makes me unhappy. I like unconventional or weirdly fitting options, and well, is it weird I don't want to deprive Cloud of his growth and life in general? Ichigo's had his time as protagonist, I just feel it wouldn't be the best we could do. Ichigo would be such a guiding light for Cloud, an equal in ways so few others can be. They'd be able to connect on so many levels. There's great potential, yes, but I feel it'd almost be too easy. Ichigo would be swept along by the plot rather than being able to change it from the outside. What do you think?

Guest mentions:

Tifa: probably the best match for Ichigo personality wise, and I love the martial arts stuff, but too much of her story revolves around cloud. If she forgets, even with the best intentions, how is anyone going to help restore cloud's memory??

Tseng: it'd be so cool to have a spy Ichigo, admittedly, and also the 'I have super powers that put me on par with sephiroth' reveal would be insane, but Ichigo would probably be sacked if he took over Tseng XD. He is NOT cut out for that sort of subtlety.

Nanaki: I'm a sucker for people turned into creatures when they enter a new time/dimension, and Nanaki being another hojo victim would give him the thematic right to also fight sephiroth with cloud. Also with Ichigo's hollow form we could get a giant monster transformation!! Come on! He'd also be a good fit for Ichigo's sensory skills with reiatsu (listen I know Ichigo is renowned for being kinda bad if it's not intent or people he knows well but it's miles above what normal people have).

Rufus: this would be hilarious. Poor, poor Ichigo. He'd stage a coup. Finding and cleaning up deep ground too would be a very entertaining story lol.

Jenova: okay I know this is bizarre but this is the closest ff7 has to the soul king and Ichigo's soul is pure concentrated reiatsu, which is a pretty one to one equivalent of mako. Like, the life stream as the afterlife instead of a place would freak him out, but come on. Alien King Ichigo. 2000 yo or arriving during sephiroths meltdown or even just before hojo gets hold of her, it'd be so cool to explore. He'd be so not ready to parent a grown mass murderer traumatised lab experiment but man would he be willing to try.

Also, this would be one of the only timelines where sephiroth is saved/talked down. Ichigo being of equal strength already would get even stronger, he'd be able to handle sephiroth, probably take the attention off Cloud at least. You could take any point on the sephiroth spectrum from 'totally unwilling and mind controlled' to 'very eager to continue killing everything and will throw hands with whatever dares get in his way including jenova herself' and it'd work so well! Also I could finally give Ichigo wings. Him vs the WEAPONS would also be super cool. Maybe he could bargain with the planet? And the idea of her and sephiroths hair suddenly flushing neon orange for no discernable reason would be funny lmao.

[enbyleighlines]

Leigh plays Tellius prt 12

I forgot how dramatic Geoffrey can be. But I guess with a best friend like Bastian, he would have to be a little dramatic.

I love how Ike continues to value his work as a mercenary above everything else. Of course, I don't think this high level of integrity is common amongst mercenary groups, but the Greil Mercs have always been different. Like how Greil himself would take work without pay, if it meant helping out someone in need. They fight for people, not for ideals such as honor or glory.

Now, I remember this map giving me so much trouble when I was a kid. This was the map that had me give up on not losing any units. I remember sacrificing Calill here, back in 2007, just so I could finally advance to the next chapter.

So when it came time to face this map again, 16 years later, I was feeling rather nervous.

Turns out I had no reason to be nervous, because I wiped the floor with all the enemies without issue. The boss gave me a scare at first, when I realized he was activating a skill in battle. I was afraid it was Resolve, but it turned out to be Parity, which was far less intimidating.

What a gorgeous scene! I love this moment between Elincia and her retainers. Their friendship is so great, and I'm glad that they got to be reunited.

This may be my shipper goggles blinding me again, but... was there something in that letter you don't want others seeing, Tibarn?

I understand where he's coming from, but it is jarring to be see a young boy say "Kill 'em all!"

Love this base conversation. Ike cannot be bothered to figure out what the hell Bastian is talking about half the time. And we learn that, though Ike's not a fan of desserts, he does drink tea! Unsweetened, I imagine, but still. Idk why, but I really love the idea of manly man Ike sitting down and having a cup of tea. Maybe he even used to have tea parties with Mist as a child. Too cute!

Here comes Largo. I do think this entire conversation is hilarious enough to justify Largo's existence as a playable unit, but otherwise I have never used him and probably never will. That being said, I love his character development in Radiant Dawn, where he goes from a fame-seeking beserker for hire to a humble restaurant owner and doting father.

I made Jill another custom javelin, and I named it Diablo because of how much it cost. Plus it's red, to match her armor!

Funniest NPC? Funniest NPC.

They don't go into it, but I can imagine that Soren must be really nervous at this moment. He's about to lead a discussion in front of an army that includes judgemental Begnion knights, beast laguz, and hawk laguz, including the king of the hawk laguz. That's a lot of pressure, especially for a character who doesn't feel comfortable talking to anyone that isn't Ike. He did a brilliant job, though! It probably helps that he has an A rank with Ike now, so his biggest insecurity has been put to rest.

Kudos, Soren! You're going to need that growing confidence when you're promoted to chief strategist of the Laguz Alliance.

I love how Ike is just so taken off guard here. This conversation also raises some questions for me. Namely, how long do pegasi live? Didn't Elincia say that this one belonged to her great-grandmother? Are they just like... immortal?

Time to seize Fort Pinell! This map is a little intimidating due to its sheer size, especially it doesn't have many choke points. However, I managed to beat this map on my first try. Luckily, they let you take a ridiculous amount of units, so I managed to just cross the field by lining up my defensive fighters in a long vertical wall to keep my squishies protected. Meanwhile, Ike, Soren, and Ranulf destroyed the entire upper right section of the map all by themselves.

The Black Knight fight is coming!! I'm so nervous ahhhhhh

It was also around this point that I realized that it would be nearly impossible to achieve one of my goals. I intended to get Ranulf to level 20 with as many capped stats as possible. Unfortunately, after doing the math, it looks like the only stats it's possible to cap are strength and defense, because you get him so late in the game, and his stat caps are so ridiculously high.

For example, you get him at level 9, which means he will only level up 11 times. In order to cap his strength, he has to level up strength 10 times, which is possible, but not without a lot of resetting. Meanwhile, in order to cap his defense, he has to level up his defense 13 times, which is only possible if you get him to level up defense Every Single Level, plus give him a Draco Shield for that +2 defense.

As much as I love Ranulf, I want to use that Draco Shield for someone else if I can. So in the end, I only capped his strength. And I was only able to do so by burning through the rest of my bexp. Ugh!

Was this worth it, or a massive waste of resources?

Probably the latter, but what's done is done.

Either way, Ike's 1v1 match with the Black Knight is imminent. I would like to save Nasir if I can, so I'm hoping that I get lucky with triggering Aether.

[starthetripledevil]

Mario Legacy Challenge: 1983

Last year, the youngest children of the Mario family (Mario and Luigi) aged up into toddlers. The father and Gen 1 Sim, Mario "Jumpman" Mario is working as a fisherman and is close to reaching the final level of the career (it's a part-time job so there are only 3 levels).

The toddlers are the first ones to wake up in the new year (actually they are going back to sleep in this picture or something, I don't remember for sure what was actually happening but I do know that some of Mario's needs were low).

Luigi wants to hug his brother, but Mario doesn't want to be hugged.

Luigi is so sad now...

After a funny conversation with his neighbor Emmalyn, Jumpman has achieved level 8 comedy, leaving only 3 more skills for his aspiration (logic, handiness, fitness - logic is completed when he plays chess on his own off-camera at a later point).

Pauline and her mother are making plans to visit the local art gallery since they're both interested in creativity (although Pauline is more interested in music whereas Lady is more interested in paintings). Their visit takes place at some point in March.

Lady's friend Elle is also visiting the gallery (she goes there a lot). It's also around the time of her 35th birthday (she aged up in-game while I was visiting).

Meanwhile, Pauline learns to play the piano in the gallery's music room.

Also some new Mario lore just dropped: We learn that 2½-year-old Mario's favorite animal is the ladybug.

One night, Luigi wakes up from a nightmare and Jumpman is there to comfort him.

Uncle Tony and his daughter Marianne have come to visit. Marianne and Pauline spend some time playing on the monkey bars.

Some time later, Pauline tries playing basketball on her own but feels kind of sick... due to this experience, she starts to dislike fitness.

Another flea market takes place near the Marios' home, with Lana (one of Jumpman's first friends in the city, though they haven't really talked much in recent years) playing some kind of guitar.

Mario has been running around without his clothes a lot recently... Jumpman has to teach Mario not to do that.

No real story or achievement here but just a moment with the entire Mario family in the same room at the same time... which just has to be the kitchen.

Bad news: Jumpman has been fired from his job as a fisherman. (In-game, he's actually sad because his grandmother died even though they haven't been in contact for years and Jumpman probably wouldn't even know - so I made him quit the fisherman job and came up with an alternate explanation for him being very sad.)

Jumpman is feeling sad from losing his job. Lady tries to make him feel better. Of course, having had a stable job for many years, she can't really relate to this experience.

Still, it helps and Jumpman is already feeling better.

Jumpman is now looking for a new job and one job opening he finds is at a circus, specifically for handling a gorilla. However, the thing is, the circus doesn't even have a gorilla yet, and instead, Jumpman's first task is to capture one.

But before leaving, Jumpman has to deal with another loud party in Emmalyn's apartment.

The circus has sent Jumpman to what they think is the ideal place to find a gorilla - Kong Island. It's up to Jumpman to find and capture a gorilla for the circus. The circus will make sure Jumpman is able to get the food, shelter and other necessities for this trip.

Even with all the warning signs present, Jumpman isn't stopping. Maybe these signs should have been a sign that the Kongs aren't simply wild animals, but the circus is convinced capturing one is a good idea.

Jumpman breaks an obstacle in his way.

So far, Jumpman has only found ruins, but still no luck finding any animals...

Jumpman will have to continue his search next year. (Did he at least get to return home for the holidays before continuing the search? In-game no, but in-universe, I'm not quite sure.)

For Jumpman's experiences in 1984, see this post.

[not-alien-girl-v]

Tate story I am sorry I don’t have a name for it yet

Warning: Language

Note: Hello! So this story is based off the concept of reality shifting, but I took some specifics on the basics of the concept from a oneshot series by @toomanyfandoms02 , so definitely go read that if you’re a fan of MGG, it’s called The Transporter. Also I kinda hate this chapter but it will get better I swear

I still remember the day things changed. I was in English class, 6th period, when Mr. Rove sat down at his desk, a bedazzled expression as he explained to us the news: traveling dimensions was now a possibility.

Students turned to each other, chatting about, every single detail of their ideal universe being put into words with each other, but I kept my ideas to myself. Not to say I didn’t have any, because I did. Sure, it was a very vague idea, but I set it aside in my mind, as I did to every unrealistic desire I’d accumulated over the years, like being a bestselling author.

I knew I certainly had the capability to write a story, maybe even a good one at that, but I’d never write something irresistibly readable. Something so interesting, so complex and beautiful that it could reach the minds of many.

“This is shit,” Mr. Rove confirmed my sneaking suspicion that day in his office. In his large hands, he held my submission for the school’s writing contest. The winner would receive a $10,000 scholarship to their college of choice, something I desperately needed.

It’s not that I didn’t have the money. In fact, my father was a world renowned scientist, making a fuckton of money and refusing to let me take advantage of that.

I get it, he came from the bottom and made it to the top with no help from a rich parent, and he wants me to be the same: a successful, self made individual, but I have to say, paying for your own dinners, clothes, electronics etc sucks when you are only old enough to make minimum wage.

All those daddy’s money girls I go to school with do annoy me, and for that, I get where he’s coming from. But I’m far from them.

As for what Mr. Rove said to me, it’s not something I didn’t already know. I could easily tell the story was no good. I felt like it was shit the whole writing it, it’s no big surprise that it wasn’t worthy of winning the contest.

“I know,” I spoke honestly. I wasn’t going to bullshit him about this, I sucked and I knew it.

He leaned back in exasperation, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing. Placing the paper back on his desk, “I mean, come on. The main girl is too dumb. Why does she keep going back to camp every year when someone always gets murdered? No one wants to read something so frustrating and predictable. Horror is about suspense, and there’s nothing in this. My 3 year old daughter probably could have written this thing as a shitty picture book.”

Harsh. He could have at least spared some feelings. “That was rude. I’m a child, you know. Your my teacher you’re supposed to be nice to me. What would the principal have to say about your awful bedside manner?”

“Okay, fine. Turn this in to the contest, see yourself lose the scholarship, and end up working 9 to 5 at McDonalds.”

I pursed my lips and stared him down in defeat. “That’s what I thought,” he continued.

That was a month ago, and the application deadline closes at the end of summer, giving me roughly 2 and a half months to write this story. No problem right?

Wrong. Big problem. Summer is finally here - as of today - and I still have little to no idea what I’m doing with this new story I was demanded to write by Mr. Rove.

Now here I am, one foot after another on the hot concrete, and I can tell it’s scalding because Chuck Taylor shoes do nothing to protect your feet from things like the burning pavement on a hot summer day.

My forehead is dripping and as is every part of my body I could possibly generate sweat from (which is everywhere, as I’m now learning) and it is no picnic. Days like this make me wish I hadn’t quit my job to ‘pursue writing’ or whatever stupid reason it was. I’m buying my own car, or at least I will be once I find the money for it.

The walk to my home, near excruciating, finally ends after I scramble around my purse for my house keys, entering the bliss of air conditioning. I close my eyes and slide down the wall, almost comedically and I nearly cry at the sensation.

Sweat in my eyes, my mouth, the tips of my fingers slowly drying cool, leaving me with a bitter stench left behind.

The house I live in is probably the only thing in my life that reflects my father’s success. It’s three stories, in a rich neighborhood and with an indoor pool. It would be nice if my father were every around to enjoy it.

The note on the fridge reads ‘big news, call me’. School is over, I have no homework and nothing to do but procrastinate with this story I’m writing, so I call him right away.

Two rings, “Hello?”

“Hey dad, it’s me, what’s the news?” I have now moved up to my room, climbing in the stairs not dissimilar to the trek up Mount Everest, and sink down into my desk chair.

“We did it! We figured it out!” He exclaims and I can swear I hear his happy dance over the phone.

“So it was you. I should have figured.” My father is a genius, a scientist, and as of today, one of the inventors of multi-universal travel.

“Yeah, boss put it on the news! But it doesn’t end there, not for you.”

“Oh?”

“Nope, you, my sweet daughter, are going to be one of the first test subjects!”

I am forcefully silenced. The air has permanently left my lungs and at the moment, I have no reason to believe it will ever return. I inhale, oh there it is again.

“Did you hear me? I volunteered you. This is going to be an amazing opportunity for you, you’ll get to experience what it’s like to live as an individual in the lower class. You know how important it is to hear every side of the economical story to be a true philanthropist-“

“Dad?” I interrupt.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t even ask me about this? You’re just deciding that I’m going to participate in leaving this dimension? All for what? To become a better person? To complete this narrative of a humble rich girl?”

Now he’s in silence.

“I gave you this opportunity because it’s a once in a lifetime event. You should be grateful for this, do you even know how many girls would kill to do what you’re about to?”

“What will I be getting from this? All I’m hearing is what you’re benefiting, but what would be in any of this for me?”

He pauses to think. “How about I make you a deal. If you agree to this under my terms, I’ll let you choose what reality you shift to. How about that?”

“And?”

Sighing, “and if you do this, I’ll… get you a car.”

I jump up out of my chair. “Seriously?”

“Yes. But only if you agree to it right now.”

“What would happen if I didn’t?”

“You’d still be doing this anyway, but I get to choose where you’re going. Plus no car.”

Grinning, I reply, “you’ve got yourself a deal! When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. And try not to eat anything within the next 12 hours, most of the rats we tested on threw up a little during the shift. Love you, bye!”

“Wait what-“ But he’s already hung up on me. Well, there goes my summer. Or maybe time will just pause when I leave, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I need to talk about this.

___

“Have I mentioned how much I’m in love with Tate Langdon?” Del asks. She’s spread out on my bed, scrolling through my Tumblr, after making the executive decision to follow the Tate Langdon tag on my account.

“Maybe once or twice. One more time for good measure?” I joke from my floor where my existential crisis is occurring.

“He’s the love of my life!” She squeals. I don’t say anything. I love Del, but whenever she gets like this, I feel it best to let her get it all out.

“Can I ask you something?” I speak, nearly groaning my words out with a scratchy voice.

“Shoot.”

“You know how they figured out reality shifting?”

“Of course, it’s all over practically everything.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

“American Horror Story, duh! Do you even have to ask me that, come on Clara, catch up,” she laughs. I hum.

“You’re just saying that because you want to fuck that Tate guy,” I accuse her with a giggle.

“It’s so much more than that. The storyline is so amazing, and the characters, so complex, as long as it would be assured I couldn’t die or get hurt, I’d love to live in a horror universe like that. You could probably do good there too. Maybe in a place like that, you could find some inspiration for your story.”

People should stop saying shocking things to me today, because I keep finding myself in an uncomfortable silence, mouth agape and mind exploded. I sit up.

“Del, I’m going on a trip this summer.”

“Wow a trip? Geez, Clara spare some details, would ya?” She jokes.

“It has something to do with my dad’s work. You know he has to keep it private, government classified and whatever the fuck. You just need to know that I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and I probably won’t be able to contact you for a good long while.”

“Is this your creative way of saying I need to go home now?” She is already up off my bed, not waiting for an answer and slipping on her shoes.

“Yes. I’m up early, so I need a good nights rest.”

“Alright, alright, I’m out, I’ll see you whenever your… trip… is over,” she cackles and I hear it travel down my staircase and out the front door.

___

I’m oh so delicately greeted with the most beautiful noise in the world: my alarm clock, blaring in my sleeping ear at 4am.

Since I spoke with my father, he miraculously suddenly became insanely busy, too busy to return any further calls or texts from me, so I’ve been exchanging words with his assistant, Laura.

Laura said not to dress up for the occasion, that I’ll have clothes of my own in whatever reality I choose, so there’s no need to be flashy or pack anything sentimental.

My stomach rumbles in my stomach and I sit at the kitchen table, staring down an apple in the fruit bowl like it owes me money. I can’t, I shan’t, I mustn’t. But fuck, I really want to. I stand up and leave the room, not needing to get overwhelmed just yet today. I’m sure I can find other reasons to freak out later, so I’m saving my energy.

I took Laura’s advice, so I’m wearing sweat pants and a band T-shirt. I hear a honk outside, signaling that the woman in question is now here to take me to a facility which will ultimately lead to the exit of this reality that I’ve called home my entire life. Big shit, don’t think about it.

I run outside, nothing but my phone and wallet in pocket, past the gate around the front yard, into the front seat of Laura’s car. “Good morning, Clara,” she cheerfully greets, too cheerfully for 4 in the morning, in my book.

“Mm,” I groan in response. Adding on, “Will I be able to die?”

“In the other reality?” She grips the steering wheel equally with both hands at 10 and 2, like a professional would.

“No, in Australia,” I deadpan.

“No, you won’t be able to die. You’ll be entering a version of your universe of choice where you can’t die, so you won’t be able to stay there for the rest of your life, of course. You can get hurt, however, so be weary, as always. And one more thing, you cannot let anyone know you’ve come from a different universe. They haven’t discovered this technology in that reality yet, so a lot of things will be incorrectly shifted if you let anyone know you’re not from there.”

She fits this all into one breath, not sounding winded in any way, she must talk a lot normally. “Just out of curiosity, what universe have you decided on?”

“You ever see American Horror Story?” I ask.

“I’ve heard of it. A fine choice, however you’ll need to be very careful you don’t get hurt. Don’t get on anyone’s bad side.”

“Isn’t that the truth in any universe?”

“What year would you be planning on shifting to?” She seems to be having none of my bullshit this morning.

“2009. LA. I want to live in the murder house.”

“Oh… are you sure?” I can tell she’s trying her hardest not to send me an odd look with how carefully she’s focusing on the road now.

“Completely.” I am stern and unmoving. I can’t die, what’s the harm? Del was probably right, as she often is, through all the madness she spews.

She inhales sharply and it almost sounds like it hurts, “well, alright. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

___

Now here I stand, in front of this machine that will supposedly allow me to shift realities. Of course I have full trust in my fathers technology, I have no reason not to, I just thinking the entire concept has yet to absorb in my mind.

I’m leaving this universe, and quite frankly, I have no say in it at all.

“Are you ready?” Laura is standing in a separate room, behind a protective glass window, like an X-Ray technician.

On the way in here, I was fortunate enough to meet some of the other test subjects. A young woman named Natalia, a man named Arthur, and a girl named Sophia. They were all around 18-20, making me wonder why young people are the only ones being selected for this experiment. Perhaps it has something to do with the toll on the body.

“Yes.”

“Al-“ I cut Laura off.

“Will it hurt?” I pick at my nails. I’m more nervous than I let on, and my stomach is burning and twisting inside my abdomen.

“It will be a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt, promise.”

Though she said she promised, it somehow brought me no relief at all. Either way, I was ready. I wish my dad were here right now. Seems like the type of thing to be present for.

I step into the machine, and it’s reminiscent to a cheesy time machine from an old Hollywood movie. A vivid image appears of the machine shaking, sputtering and smoking, before eventually comedically falling apart with me still in it.

I giggle at my own imagination, and get myself comfortable. I was informed of the specifics of my conditions once I shift. I will be an orphan (thanks a lot, dad) who lives with a foster family in the murder house. I will have two foster parents, and two foster brothers, aged 12 and 14.

I see Laura behind the glass typing something into a big board with a lot of buttons, like I’m in a recording studio and she’s my producer behind the glass. I close my eyes for a moment and begin to feel a terrible sick feeling in my stomach. Like when you go on those rollercoasters that bring you up super high then suddenly drop, and you feel like all your guts might just ooze out of your pores.

I keep my eyes closed and don’t dare to open them until the queasy feeling slowly fades, and I don’t hear the chatter of the other three test subjects from the next room. In fact, the air conditioning I was previously surrounded by in the lab has disappeared, and I feel hot sunlight beaming down on my skin.

“Clara! Get in here!”

I open my eyes now. Here I am, standing out front the house, exact to the TV show, and I would know, Del made me watch it roughly a thousand times.

I feel the sun on the tops of my arms, my legs, and it’s apparent that I’m not wearing the same outfit I left in. Now, I sport a tank top and dark jean shorts with sheer black tights underneath, and a number of bracelets trailing up both my arms.

I look up at the house, massive and astounding in front of me. There’s an open window on the second floor, and I see a glimpse of a young blond boy staring down at me, but he walks away before I can really see him.

[cptsd-skywalker]

Hello again! Wanted to ask about Padme. Most pro Anakin bloggers also tend to like Padme. Why are you indifferent towards her beyond the reasoning of the power imbalance of Anidala? Would you like her better if she were lower class?

What kind of woman do you think Anakin should have married?

@synapticjive , this is for you dear. Also @fanfic-lover-girl for bringing this ask to me, as I’ve been meaning to make a long post about this for a while.

TLDR;

Besides the power Imbalance, (not to do with age but to do with Padme’s class status) in my opinion Padme is more in love with her fantasy of Anakin and not as much the real Anakin that exists. She sweeps under the rug massive red flags about his mental health (the sand people situation anyone ) when he’s been on the verge of a mental health crisis long before Revenge of the Sith. It isn’t her job to fix him, but as his partner I do think she should have encouraged him to seek mental health help or encouraged him to tell others about the Tuskens. I also don’t think she is as invested in Anakin as he is with her. In my opinion, she likes to keep him and her fantasy world totally separate from her loved reality as a senator (using Anakin as a kind of escape from that life) and so any real world or serious problems he has she puts away until they blow up massively.

Explanation:

In the new cannon material “The Queens Hope”, the newest novel by E.K. Johnston in a trilogy including “The Queen’s Shadow” and “The Queen’s Peril”, Anakin and Padme’s relationship is discussed and illustrated in detail. In combination with this book, the novelization of ATOC and TCW series, I have come to these conclusions about Anidala:

Padme is Anakin’s last in the flesh reminder of his mother. Anakin was raised in a single parent household, and I believe a portion of his love fro her stems from his desire to have a family again after losing his mother, and Padme remember his mother. This ties them together in his heart for importance. After shmi dies, Padme is Anakin’s only lifeline, meaning if their relationship goes south (for whatever reason) that Anakin’a chances of going off the deep end mentally are high.

You would think that stress that he is under to fulfill others expectations of him to his own detriment would be a red flag for Padme to encourage him to leave the Jedi or to at least lessen the power imbalance between them so he wouldn’t feel like he had to live up to these expectations where she is concerned. That he could be himself around her, so that he can form a healthy attachment to her. Instead she continues this idea of burdening him with her own high expectations of him by convincing him time and time again to stay in the Jedi Order to remain as a Jedi Knight. She does this even when he states multiple times how unhappy he is there, how badly the Jedi treat him (btw she always sides with the Council and Obi Wan when he brings up how they make him feel. She goes as far as to laugh at him in ATOC) and how much stress he is under living up to their idea of what he should be.

In the novels and in TCW she is quite taken with Anakin as this masculine adventurer ideal, a role that he plays for her but struggles with in moments of insecurity and difficulty. She makes him feel like he is supposed to always be a strong hero when he really needs someone who can understand his need to have a safe place to feel weak. It’s natural to want to relax and to not to want to be at war all the time. However, She loves him as her knight in shining armor, so when he wants to leave the order she is horrified. He says “I don’t care about all this deception I don’t care if they know we’re married” and she immediately corrects him “Anakin don’t say things like that”

Padme encourages his codependency by placing herself on a pedestal with him, and accepting her role as his Courtly Lady/Madonna. This is particularly important when we consider why Padme, an accomplished politician with charisma, grace, social accumin and wealth would want to marry someone she just spent a week with. The answer to me is that the danger, the adventure, the forbidden aspects are exactly why Padme wants to be with Anakin at all. Padme has lived her whole life in a super serious responsible bubble, and Anakin is her chance to let her hair down and be wild. There wouldn’t be anything wrong with this if this wasn’t the only thing holding them together, but honestly to me it is.

1. They have totally different personalities that do not mesh. Anakin is passionate and firey with an intense insecure while attachment style Padme is cool and detached and rational at all times. Really Padme makes a better Jedi mentally than Anakin (don’t shoot me for this, Obi Wan says almost the same thing “you should have been a Jedi) for how Padme conducts her life, emotions can be dangerous. Even Sabe warns her that her love for him will prove fatal as well stating “You always said when you gave your heart to someone it would be a disaster”, because Padme in love throws caution to the wind for her idea of fantasy romance. Padme in love is Padme entrenched in her deepest ideal with blinders on to everything but what she wants. The problem with Anakin is that he has severe mental health issues that can not be ignored. He is being groomed by sidious and he is being emotionally abused by the Jedi, yet Padme doesn’t see any of this becuase she only sees what she wants to see; Anakin the Hero With No Fear conquering all and coming home to sit at her feet and do whatever she needs him to do. Anakin loves Padme because she is the Madonna who gives his life purpose. These are two incompatible ideals.

2. Anakin needs Padme more than she needs him. Padme had a life before Anakin, and she would have a life after him if she were to leave him. Padme has a sister and parents and nieces and nephews. She has a network of best friends she has known since she was 14, and a further network of senate colleges and friends on planets all over the galaxy. She has a job she loves and finds worthwhile and she has a childhood of safety and love to draw on.

In contrast if Padme left Anakin, Anakin would lose all he has left. He does have Obi Wan in a sense, but considering his desire to leave the order and Obi Wans attitude towards those who leave the order it wouldn’t go well, (he no longer associates with them the same way, he wouldn’t antagonize Anakin but he’d make it known he didn’t approve and would probably shun him like Ashoka). Anakin lost his mother and all of his childhood friends remain in slavery. His childhood was hard on him.

Thus, Padme became Anakin’s sole personal emotional support. This brings an imbalance to their relationship which fuels Anakin’s attachment insecurity. This causes the jealously and the fear of losing her to increase 10 fold. In the Queen’s Hope, Anakin thinks of Padme all the time while on missions while he almost never comes up to her when she is on her own time with friends or family. Even though they just married she barely reflects on Him, never thinks of him personally except to remark how handsome he is (Anakin is so much more than just his looks), which leads me to believe that her reasons for marrying him were mostly sexual. Since I headcannon Anakin as demisexual based on his interactions with her this screams incompatibility to me.

3. Lastly, when Padme Anakin are at home they are always without exception doing one of 3 things, having sex, discussing the war, or fighting. The only positive interactions they have are when they are physically intimate(cuddling or getting in the mood). They talk about the war but never about what towels to buy or what food to eat. This has some issue to do with the action style way that the movies and books are written. There is very little room for domesticity. However, even in The Queens Hope, a book revolving around issues of them trying to balance domestic life with duty, Padme never compliments Anakin’s personality, just his looks, and to that end whenever we seen them together they are either , A.) Cuddling, or B.) Being erotic with each other. Padme does rearrange her schedule so that Anakin can sneak in at night to see her, but because of their need for secrecy Anakin is treated more like a secret affair than a marriage partner. Which brings me to my last point.

4. We’ve discussed that Padme is unable to bring up Anakin’s mental problems to him and prefers to bury them, but a similar thing could be said about Anakin. He is unable to accept any moral ambiguity in Padme at all. Any time she strays a hair from her ideals he is in her like a flea. It’s understandable to me that Anakin feels this way considering Padme is all he has, but in the long run he has to be able to see her as a fallible human being capable of being wrong. At the same time she needs to stop feeding into this desire he has of putting her above him. Even as a submissive he should not feel actually beneath her.

I’m conclusion: I think Anakin would have fared better with someone who either A.) was born in similar circumstances with similar trauma that could help him through his complicated feelings or at least relate to them; or B.) was able to remove themselves from the pedestal Anakin puts them on to make a more equal partnership that he can lean into. Anakin is needy and while for me I don’t consider that to be a bad thing it can be a bad thing of the other person doesn’t help the insecure person to feel safe and secure in the relationship. Padme is not capable of this to me for a number or reasons, namely the fact that she is more married to her job and ideals than to Anakin.

I hope that clears up some of my thoughts for you all. I know I probably left things out, please feel free to comment on here with your opinions. I know that was long.

[variousqueerthings]

Okay, we have now seen the next few episodes of s6, which means it’s time for a long overdue post in which I talk about how much I love Sid Freedman

(let me count the ways)

1. if the show at times can be read as existing in a Conscious Narrative (you don’t say) then Sid arrives as the characters reach their breaking point of wanting to deal with it anymore and gently explains that they can and will make their way through it

2. he’s not an Agent of the Narrative (anymore than anyone else in the cog of the war at the non-decision-making stage can help the role they play in continuing to perpetuate it -- including the surgeons who heal up men to go back and get shot at, or kids who will return to minefields), so much as he is a balm against it, to the best of his abilities. he cannot, because of the force of the Military or the Narrative, discharge a person if he does not believe that they are crazy -- an idea I cannot quite enunciate, but if he’s sending someone home... well, they’ll have lost something irreparable, equivalent to an amputation. as long as he can call the characters sane, they are some measure of okay, even at their worst. we, the audience, may possibly breathe easier for a bit, because they are still strong enough for the Narrative. Sid would know

3. he is Very Very good at letting the waves crash against him if that’s what is needed, to listen if that’s what is needed, and to talk if that’s what is needed. he is also, over time, as everyone else in this here Narrative, in need of healing himself, and I love that this side to him has been explored a couple of times now

4. in an environment where everyone wants to leave the 4077, Sid comes there to feel better! speaking of how one defines sanity in an insane situation, huh?!

5. maybe what I’m getting at is that he is the speaker for some very interesting key elements of the Theme, while still feeling like a great character on his own. he’s not in the main narrative, but when he appears you know there’s probably something big that needs to be Explored in some way (or a poker game)

6. his interactions with all the characters highlight some of their most interesting elements. am personally especially fond of how he speaks with Klinger and Margaret, the respect he has for their equally interesting situations around gender echoes the respect the Narrative wishes to have for those stories. his empathy for them is our empathy for them

7. in the last episode I saw with him -- Mulcahy (the other person whose job cannot be measured in tangible results! someone who is attempting similar healing from a different perspective! religion and psychiatry! I lose a mind - I lose a soul!) recognising his distress and asking him to let go of his Role for a second (his role in the war, his role in the Narrative), and he strips down to a t-shirt and boxers and throws them in the massive bonfire they all create together to overcome their frustrations! wonderful, showstopping. in s5 when BJ was pranking various characters to make others smile! maybe he’s not so wrong about coming to the 4077 to feel better, it seems like a mutual exchange

8. of course, he may be the best person to speak Hawkeye back from a ledge, whenever that ledge is apparent. and he may be at the moment the only character that Hawkeye can really be that vulnerable with (mostly)

9. what a wonderful, wonderful man, and a wonderful character and also Allan Arbus is very attractive

10. interested in the overall ideas around the usefulness of psychiatry, ideals of Masculinity (including not talking about your problems ever), and a sweet, softly-spoken man helping to uncover some of the violence of war in the 50s as seen through the 70s, my one comparison being TNG trying to add a counselor character and not quite nailing it, despite having the right idea in the 80s (I love you Deanna) -- and also the various explorations of the cycles of violence: make someone well enough that they can go out and be violated again, and knowing this and still having to do your best, because an alternative cannot be imagined in the situation... what are you healing people for?

11. add that to my list of characters I hc as queer in some way

[iceeckos12]

A time travel au. angst and h/c. inspired by this post

Warnings: jon’s very low self-esteem

“What do you think of him?” Jon suddenly asks, staring blankly at the wall of the breakroom.

Tim pauses in the middle of chewing his sandwich to give him a long, considering look.

He’s mostly decided to suspend his disbelief until further notice, simply to keep from losing his mind. What else is one supposed to do when future versions of Jon and Martin, who are also apparently dating, tell you that your workplace is currently involved in a plot to end the world? Ideally he would’ve processed one big revelation at a time, but apparently they don’t have time for that, so goodbye grip on reality, it was nice knowing you. I’ll hit the restart button as soon as things start making sense again.

Tim wipes his hand across his mouth, swallows, and asks, “You mean Jon II?”

Jon rolls his eyes, like Tim’s being obtuse on purpose just to annoy him. “Yes, I mean...him. Me. Jon II.” Then his nose wrinkles amusingly, the same way it always does whenever he says the moniker. He’s hated it since the beginning, but it was a battle he quickly lost, what with all three of his assistants opposing him.

Normally, Tim wouldn’t have thought twice about shrugging and answering, but...Jon’s been uncharacteristically quiet lately. Oh sure, he’d blushed up a storm upon learning that his future self and Martin were dating, and he’d expressed his own misgivings at the beginning, but...since then he’s been eerily, silently watchful. In Tim’s experience, when presented with this sort of puzzle Jon generally buries himself in research, and doesn’t emerge until he’s good and ready to do so.

There’s something else on his mind.

So Tim puts down his sandwich and gives himself a moment to think carefully through his response. “I mean...he’s a lot like you, obviously. But he seems…” What’s a polite way to say, the trauma and the boyfriend seems to have made him a little more easygoing? He certainly smiles more freely than he ever has, which...honestly, makes Tim want to cry sometimes. How horrible, that so much abject cruelty had just made him more kind. “...tired. A little less high-strung?”

“I see,” Jon says, turning his mulish gaze to his curry, dragging his spoon through the thick sauce.

Tim waits a beat longer, but when nothing else seems forthcoming he prompts, “Why do you ask?”

Jon’s reaction is only to press his lips into a thin, tight line. Tim knows this mood; he’s weighing how insecure he’ll look if he says whatever’s actually bothering him out loud, versus how much he wants someone else to hear it. Pushing him now will only make him clam up, so Tim just waits.

Tim’s patience is rewarded when Jon blurts, “But you like him. You...you all do.”

“Yes,” Tim says slowly, because it’s true. Martin’s so enamoured with a Jon that actually likes him that he keeps bringing him tea just to get another glimpse of that gentle, thankful smile, just to strike up another conversation about nothing. Sasha has decided that he’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to her, and insists on consulting him whenever she reads a new true statement.

Tim’s personally a little unnerved by the awful, sad way future Jon looks at him sometimes, or the way he flinches back whenever someone tries to touch him without warning. But he’d taken Tim aside and quietly explained everything he knew about what happened to Danny, so.

Oh, Tim thinks, feeling like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Jon may be an old hand at fooling others with his grumpy persona, but Tim knows that he’s just using it to hide his massive inferiority complex. “Wait, are you jealous?”

Jon ducks his head, and his ears darken. Gotcha, Tim thinks. 

“Jon, you know that that’s still you, right?” he explains gently, quietly relieved that it’s not something more complicated. “We like him just as much as we like you, because you’re the same person.”

“But he’s not the same, is he?” Jon protests. “Look at the scars on his neck, on his hand. And he has panic attacks, and he flinches at loud noises, and, and—”

He breaks off, biting down hard on his lip, threading a hand through his hair.

Tim stares at him, feeling off-kilter, like he missed a step coming down the stairs. That doesn’t sound like jealousy. “...Jon?”

Jon shakes his head, his breath escaping him in thready, devastated gasps.

He can’t tell what’s going on in Jon’s head, and it’s starting to scare him. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Jon just sits there for a moment long, tugging at his hair, staring sightlessly at the middle distance. Tim gently untangles his fingers, giving him something a little more solid to hold onto.

“You all like him,” he says at last. “You all...he’s so kind, and he’s funny, and you like him, because someone hurt him first. He’s different—we’re different—because someone cut our throat and burned our hand, and you like him better.”

Tim’s horrified. “Jon—”

“Should I accept that?” he continues, the words flooding from him like a dam finally exploding in a shower of groaning wood and weathered stone. “Do I—how do I carry on knowing that I could be the person I want to become, if only I give myself to monstrosity, if only I let myself be hurt like that?”

“Of course we’re not going to let that happen to you!” Tim interrupts, voice higher and more frightened than he meant it to be. He’s applying duct tape to a raging river. He has no fucking idea how to fix this. “You don’t deserve—”

“Don’t I?” Jon demands, whirling on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t I deserve to be happy? Or am I unworthy of even this kind of improvement? Am I doomed to be like this forever?” Tears well in his eyes, spill over. “Don’t I deserve it?”

And then he slowly, inevitably, dissolves into tears, his slim shoulders shaking as he curls over and buries his face in his elbow. Tim drapes an arm across his back, angling his body so he can gently tuck Jon’s head against his shoulder. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. Even if Jon were in any shape to hear it, he has no idea how to fix this.

Tim could tell him that he and Martin and Sasha all think that he’s fine the way he is, and it’s the stress of an apparently eldritch job that’s causing him to push people away, but he doubts Jon would believe it. Words mean nothing when actions have been screaming something entirely different all this time, and Jon’s always been more observant than they give him credit for.

“Oh, Jon,” he whispers when the tears finally start to slow, dropping a kiss onto silver and black hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you felt that way.”

Jon pulls away and shrugs, averting his reddened eyes. Tim squeezes his elbow to prevent him from retreating entirely. They sit like that for a moment, Jon going very still and very tense under Tim’s hand, settling into the vulnerability like an open wound.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says finally, sniffing heavily. He’s aiming for his usual brusque, dry tone, but his voice is shaking, and he’s not fooling anyone. “That was unprofessional of me.”

Before Tim can stop himself, an incredulous laugh rips out of him. “Jon,” he says quickly, “We’re well beyond professional. You know that, right? You don’t have to hide from me.”

Jon flushes. “Yes, well—it was unfair for me to put this on you, as your fr—as…” His expression goes all fragile and uncertain, and Tim’s heart aches.

“It’s not unfair,” Tim corrects gently. “As your friend,” and here he pauses for emphasis, “I want to know when you’re feeling like this.”

“Oh,” Jon murmurs, then straightens and scrubs the teartracks from his cheeks. “Oh.”

Tim nods reassuringly, takes a deep breath, and makes an educated guess. “I know you’re scared, Jon. We all are. This place is...horrible, and seeing what you went through is...terrifying. I can’t imagine how that must be for you.” He lets his eyes flicker up. Jon’s still watching him, rapt, and good, good. I haven’t lost him. “I won’t deny that he’s getting along with Sasha and Martin quite well, but...but that’s not because of what he—you—went through. It’s because….right now, you’re pushing people away because you’re scared, but he’s already done that. He knows that pushing people away just means you end up alone. It doesn’t mean he’s a better person, just that he’s a little wiser.”

“But how can you be sure?” Jon asks, leaning forward, eyes big and desperate.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have become your friend if I didn’t like you,” Tim admits unashamedly.

His bold honesty is rewarded by Jon flushing and ducking his head.

“But even so,” he continues, sobering, “Even if you were the worst person on the planet—and you’re not—you wouldn’t deserve to be hurt like that, no matter what the outcome. Does that make sense?”

Jon looks thoughtful as he says, “I—yes. Yes, that makes sense.”

He can tell though, that Jon doesn’t quite believe him. That’s okay—honestly, it’s what he was expecting. Tim’s been running headfirst into the wall that is Jon’s terrible self-esteem for as long as they’ve been friends. This problem is going to take more than one half-assed pep talk.

That’s okay, though. Jon’s worth the effort.

[nofoundboy]

Baby I'm Yours

Lesster Sinclair x Male reader

TW: None. Just pure fluff

You looked sideways at Lester, who was driving the truck with parsimony.

After a while you got used to the smell. It wasn't ideal, but spending time with the youngest Sinclair was enough to make you forget the discomfort.

You watched with some trepidation the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. You loved watching those hands work at such mundane and strange tasks as extracting the meat from fallen deer. Something that you might find repulsive seemed strangely mesmerizing thanks to the man executing it.

That anxiety forming at the back of your throat had been building as you realized the direction your feelings had taken. When you stopped thinking of the man next to you as your best friend and started dreaming of compromising situations in his company, you knew that little lump would take hold in your throat every time you interacted with him.

You were terrified to act on your feelings, because you were aware of what kind of place this was, the kind of upbringing he probably had. There were no people like you in those parts, at least not that lived with the freedom you enjoyed in the city.

Still, you couldn't conceive of leaving. Not now that you had established a pleasant relationship with the twins.

And even less so now that you knew how much you loved Lester.

The possibility of being rejected was a very present and alarming one. Not because of the usual fear of being scorned, but because you didn't know how deeply embedded in them was conservative thinking. If it was strong enough, your integrity could well be in jeopardy.

Of course, lately you couldn't help but lose yourself in that boyish, wild expression he had. Lester had an expression of sly, adorable wildness that mesmerized you with his mischievous, sullen mannerisms.

That complete naturalness was what had first attracted you to him and was what currently made you sigh alone.

"Are you all right?" he asked after seeing you out of the corner of his eye. You forgot how observant he was and that really, you were doing a worse and worse job of hiding how you felt.

"Oh! Yeah...uhm, yeah. All right why, is something wrong?" internally you kicked your gut hard, for you had achieved just the opposite of appearing normal.

Lester let out a chuckle that made you wince at the pleasant sound of it. He hadn't needed to ask any more questions for you to give away your inner storm yourself.

"You know you can tell me, I'm not telling anyone. Not even Jonesy" you couldn't help but join him in the chuckle he let out. You voted lightly towards the little canine, touching his nose with the tip of your finger to which he simply remained still and with a sweet expression.

"Well..." you slurred the word as you fiddled with your fingers, glancing down at your unwashed jeans.

Lester didn't press you further, but it was obvious from the sidelong glances he was giving you that he was concerned about whatever you were going through.

"I...I need to tell you something" you sighed noticing as he slowed to a stop at the side of the woods.

Lester turned to look at you intently. You loved that way he had of making you feel heard and special. Your brain probably identified that look as an incentive, something that gave you the courage to continue with your confession.

You took a deep breath, you had never been good at talking about your affections for someone because you had dealt with fleeting relationships and unrequited love. You were given to the idea that it wasn't worth it to fall so deeply in love with someone that they weren't going to love you back anyway.

With Lester, however, everything was different.

He seemed so eager to give affection and appreciation that your jealously guarded heart had shattered its locks, and with enthusiasm, had come out to receive his shelter.

You breathed in again, stopping your trembling fingers. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, as if preparing to receive a punch. Maybe a punch of reality or maybe one of happiness.

"I'minlovewithyou!" You exclaimed as fast and loud as you could. You opened your eyes for a moment, incredulous at what you had done. Surviving the massacre the twins had performed seemed rather less terrifying in comparison.

The stony silence threatened to pulverize your insides but you dared not look up. You had never been anything more than a shy boy.

That is, until you heard the van radio and the strains of a song you knew more than well began.

When you started helping Lester, you had showed him "Baby I'm Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Maybe you hadn't heard many songs by that band, but that one was quite relevant to you, as it was the first song that had made you feel something very close to love.

And the fact that Lester would remember it....

"Wanna dance?" His voice brought you out of your reverie. When you looked up, that uneven-toothed smile you loved so much greeted you.

You nodded softly and the two of you climbed out of the van together.

The music echoed through the desolate forest. The only company you needed was that of the one who was now awkwardly holding your waist.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. Neither of you had experience but you didn't need it to sway to the music and simply feel untethered.

"I'm in love with you too" he whispered. His breath on your neck made you shiver and smile like you had never smiled before.

[calumxkisses]

Us | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: Michael and Crystal take you and Calum along to visit their wedding hall and it's the perfect location for a dance full of love.

a/n: am i obsessed with the idea of dancing with Calum? yes. let me know if you liked it. i'm still not really good at writing fluff imagines but i'm learning and i'll hopefully do better in the future.

you should read this imagine while listening to: us

➳

“So, this is the wedding hall?” Calum asks as he enters looking around the room. The structure is huge, there is still a lot to do but some decorations have already been fixed.

“Yeah, there are a few things we would like to change but it’s pretty much gonna be like this.” Michael responds, walking inside the room and looking around.

“It's lovely, guys. It's like being in a fairy tale.” You whisper while looking around the room. Your fingers are barely intertwined with Calum's as you look at the room, admiring the ceiling and the windows overlooking the sea.

You turn to Crystal and notice a tear running down her face as she admires the room. A smile forms on your face as you see your best friend so happy, her dream is coming true and you couldn't feel more proud of her.

This marriage has overcome the strangest obstacles, the biggest certainly was having to be postponed due to a pandemic, but their love has never stopped in front of these, it has grown more and more and to be able to be among the witnesses of their love is among the things you are most grateful for.

The room is very large, has an oval shape and is surrounded by windows overlooking the sea. Some tables have already been set up and embellished, they are also circular in shape and have floral decorations in the center. The tablecloth is embroidered in lace, it is pearl white but the different colored decorations, which accompany the flowers in the center, make the table look wonderful and original, recalling Crystal's passion for plants.

The chairs that surround them, simple but still elegant, have ribbons that decorate them. They’re gold and white, yet their simple design makes them look gorgeous.

“We are going to talk to the wedding planner to fix some things, in the meantime you can stay here and see if there is something else that we should change.” Crystal's voice grabs your attention, as she approaches Michael and takes his hand in hers. The wedding planner is at the entrance, smilingly waits for the couple and, for a moment, you think that there can’t be a more beautiful job than being able to make the dreams of couples come true.

“Calum, can you check that the stereo is working? They told me they fixed it but I haven't been able to check it yet, you'd be doing me a big favor.” Michael asks as he leaves the room grinning and not leaving time to Calum to reply.

“Gotcha.” Your boyfriend replies, shaking his head in amusement and smiling.

As Calum approaches the speakers, you take another moment to admire the room.

Looking up, your breath locks in your chest as Crystal's gorgeous decorations leave you in awe. The ceiling, which was previously simply white and wooden, is decorated with strips of tulle hanging like waves, giving life to a sense of peace and softness. The stripes extend all over the ceiling, giving the impression of being in the middle of the clouds.

In addition to the tulle, in a delicate way, some threads of small lights descend from the ceiling, romantically illuminating the room and creating an intimate and unobtrusive atmosphere.

A small elegant chandelier hangs in the center of the room, it is gold and its light is not as strong as someone might think, it is ideal to keep the room more illuminated in the most important moments, but its presence is more scenic than functional.

Some leaves and some flowers come down intertwined along the edges of the windows, hiding the window frame and making the atmosphere of the room even more simple and elegant.

The main theme is certainly white and gold, but Crystal and Michael made sure to add a few more hints of color as well, in order to make the room less monotonous and more fairytale.

The light inside the room disappears, leaving only the small lights that descend from the ceiling on. You open your mouth to ask what happened, but the words do not come out as your gaze rests on the sea outside the room, calm as in the best days, while a wonderful sunset is reflecting on the clear water. The sky is painted orange and pink, some clouds are scattered in the sky and you no longer have any doubts on why your friends have chosen this location.

There is a sense of peace in the air and you feel like you are in a different world, in a world of calm and joy, while the land where you have lived in these difficult months seems a distant memory.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Calum whispers in your ear as his hands rest on your hips from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking outside.

“If it's a dream, please don't wake me up.” You whisper, closing your eyes and letting the sea air coming in through the window on your left, caress your face.

“I could never do that, you are too beautiful when you sleep.” You can see him smile as he whispers those words and, as every time he smiles, you smile too. There is something contagious about his joyful expressions, they warm your heart and you can't help but share them with him.

“Does the stereo system work?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, turning around to face him and leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

“Do you want to try it with me?” he asks with a smile, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and pressing a couple of buttons on the screen.

“What do you mean?” A confused expression forms on your face. The long lilac summer dress moves with every blow of the wind but the summer temperature makes sure that you don't feel cold.

Calum puts the phone back in his pocket and, after a few seconds, the first notes of your favorite love song can be heard throughout the room.

While you smile, your boyfriend clears his throat and, reaching out his hand, asks you: “May I have this dance?”

Your cheeks turn red and the muscles of your face stretch into an even bigger smile as you nod and grab his hand. Calum walks you to the center of the room and holds your hips, bringing you closer to him.

And, as the first words of one of the most beautiful love songs echo in the room, you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes as your feet move to the sweet rhythm of the music.

Sometimes I'm beaten

Sometimes I'm broken

'Cause sometimes this is nothing but smoke

Is there a secret?

Is there a code?

Can we make it better?

'Cause I'm losing hope

Calum had never loved dancing, at least not this much. His footsteps were limited to a few twirls and jumps on stage or some weird movement on the dance floor, when the alcohol level in his body was way too high to be ashamed of anything he was doing. He had always seen dancing as something that did not belong to him, an activity that stressed him more than it should, and he had never imagined that he could love it so much.

But after you arrived in his life, one of the moments he loves the most is to dance with you, at two in the morning, in the kitchen, to the notes of any love song you are obsessed with in that moment, in the peace of the silence and of the sleepless night, while Duke looks at you confused and waits for the right moment to come ask for cuddles.

The way you let him hold you, the way you let yourself be vulnerable in front of him, away from judging eyes, and the way he feels like protecting you, in the darkness of the room, makes him feel a sense of calm that he hasn' t felt for a long time before your presence in his life.

And even if he was the universe's worst dancer and the whole world was watching him, he’d still dance with you.

Tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how could I believe in something

I believe in us

Calum squeezes your hand tightly as, observing you with eyes full of love, he spins you in front of him. The sunlight lights up your face and the man in front of you is sure he has never seen anything more beautiful. You look like a Greek goddess, the kind you hear in stories and in history books, the goddesses who saved the bravest soldiers and helped them in the toughest feats.

This is how he feels, ever since he saw in you a friend - and then a girlfriend - more than an enemy, he saw his little world in fractions being put back into place, with delicacy and love, and he is ready to sacrifice his most important assets to always have you on his side.

The sun is slowly setting, making room for the moon and all its stars. Yet, with him holding you tight, it seems to you that the world has stopped.

After the wreckage

After the dust

I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

Over the riots, above all the noise

Through all the worry, I still hear your voice

Calum would be able to describe every single moment he walked into the dark and you led his way out with your light. Whenever he had writer's block, whenever anxiety kept him from getting through his day, whenever his thoughts got too dark and the demons took over, you were there.

Your delicate hands caressing his face or the sweet melody of your voice whispering comforting words, Calum remembers every one of these moments, every single one.

When the world becomes too heavy and distressing, he knows that you will be by his side and that you will help him carry the heavy weight.

And when the insecurities make their way into him, you will always be ready to remind him that he deserves to be loved.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Between dance steps, Calum lulls you slowly, the song continues to echo in your ears, and even your jaw relaxes. It’s so calming to not feel the weight of the world and the speed of time but to be able to enjoy this moment with a light heart and a head empty of all worries. In a society that runs fast and demands perfection from everything, having the opportunity to be able to stop and be left alone in love and peace is a luxury that cannot always be granted. Especially when your boyfriend is in an internationally famous band and you are trying to make your smaller, yet still of great value, dreams come true.

There is no worry about having to say the right words, having to wear the best clothes or just being yourself and praying to be accepted by millions of people who don't know you but who judge you as being part of your life.

‘She's not good enough for him’ or ‘He deserves someone more beautiful, with a perfect body, with a good mental health’ or even ‘She doesn't really love him, she does it for the money’ And there are also those gorgeous people he meets often, who work in some radio or who know mutual friends, and immediately those words written under your photos get inside you and make every certainty collapse.

You look at yourself into the mirror and you think they're right, that you're not perfect and that he really deserves one of those cover girls or someone who won't make him worry if you don't answer the phone. Insecurities that, however, under the sheets of a now familiar home, Calum makes you forget about.

And the words he whispers to you every day, the way he looks at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the world, the consideration he has of you, the notes he leaves on the table when he goes out or all those details that he pays attention to, they convince you that he doesn't care what size you are, the color of your skin or the negative thoughts that cross your mind, he loves you for your intelligence, for the kindness you carry in your heart and the delicacy with which you treat him, for the funny sound of your laugh and the way you make him feel in heaven, while reminding him to always keep his feet on the ground. And those comments, those ideas, disappear in the blink of an eye.

And now, like every time you’re with him, with your head on his chest and with his arms holding you, with the sea in the background and the lights that illuminate that corner of paradise that Crystal created, everything seems to be in the right place.

Used to be kids living just for kicks

In cinema seats, learning how to kiss

Running through streets that were painted gold

We never believed we'd grow up like this

Calum had never had good words to describe his love life. He had had love stories he was not proud of, toxic or in which he hadn't really felt strong feelings, and of the only good stories he had had, he didn’t like to tell about them because he was ashamed of how he had lived them. He believed that he hadn’t committed enough or that he hadn’t loved in the right ways.

So, he had decided not to try anymore, to put aside that desire to want to create something with someone and the more the people around him fell in love with and the more he thought about the effort he should have made, and all that stress made him forget the meaning to love. He didn’t want to meet anyone anymore, his life was good as it was.

And when you showed up awkwardly, in ruined makeup and wet clothes, Calum had thought of a thousand reasons why he didn't want to deal with you. Who shows up at an event dressed like this? What kind of girls does Crystal meet? And the way you talked about how your umbrella broke halfway and how you were about to be hit by a car didn't interest him. Calum just wanted to eat at that restaurant, pulled there by his best friends after a day spent in the studio.

And when the party moved to a friend’s house, it only bothered him how carefully you made sure you didn't spill your drink as you moved between dancing bodies and wagging dogs. He couldn't stand how you talked about life to Ashton, the love you put into describing the people who were part of it.

And when he saw you a few weeks later, he hated the way you greeted him and the way you worried about how he was doing. All too cheesy, too filmy and unrealistic.

But then, without realizing it, between one hateful look and another, Calum listened with interest to the way you talked about your passions and hobbies, how you described the places you had visited and the cities you dreamed of seeing. He laughed at you dancing and smiled when you paid attention to what people were saying around you, mentally marking down all the information to make sure to always ask the right questions.

And he found himself wanting the same attention from you, to see the smile you gave to others, dedicated to him. And so his answers to you became less and less cold and he had become less good at hiding his sweet eyes from you.

And even though every cell of his body was asking otherwise, to not feel another broken heart, Calum had decided to kiss you in the backstage of the iHeartRadio 2018, while you were wearing his leather jacket and moving his hair from the front of his eyes.

And the rest is history.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

And like when Emily Bronte said ‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same’, as in the case of your love, there isn't much to do. You cannot go against fate if two hearts are meant to spend the rest of eternity together.

There are no arguments, reasons or strong enough excuses to separate those who are connected by much more than just love. And that’s what makes you this close, that in the darkness of the world, in the hell of fear and anger, that strong feeling resists, and fighting together is always better than doing it alone.

It’s a strong love, ready to defeat everything that tries to divide it, ready to sacrifice the absolute good of one, in order to spend the rest of life in misery together.

Like the rebellious angels, who preferred an earthly love to the eternal glory of God, so you are bound to laugh and cry together, and there is nothing that can make you happier than that.

Calum turns you around one last time, whispering a compliment in your ear and making your laughter echo across the room. The sun has now set and the stars are taking its place, the lights that descend from the ceiling look like little fairies that got lost admiring your love and the room has taken the shape of a magical forest.

Your friends are at the door of the entrance, with eyes full of love they look at the two of you laughing together and their hearts melt to see you so in love and they can’t help but imagine themselves in your place, in a few weeks, ready to dance and share the same love that you and Calum are sharing.

Breaking the peace of that dream, with pride and a grin on his face, is Michael, clapping and laughing at the way your boyfriend is completely in love with you but also feeling happy to see him so positively changed. He takes a few steps toward you and you don't need to hear him speak to imagine the comments he's thinking, making you and Calum shake your heads smiling.

“Just so you know, I expect to see you dance like that at our wedding too.” Your best friend's sweet voice says as she points at you by moving her finger between you and your boyfriend.

You run toward Crystal, her pink hair is tied up in a low ponytail, with a few tufts running down her face. Her smile is big on her face, lighting up her joyful expression. You have a billion questions to ask her, most of them are about the choices they made for the final decorations and your heart is so full at thinking about your best friends getting married.

You’re too caught up in your happiness to notice Calum, just a dozen steps behind you, smiling to his bandmate while whispering: “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well, you know what to do.” Michael responds by nodding with his head and looking proudly at his best friend.

“Will you help me organize the proposal?”

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