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testingcheats0n · 3 years

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Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.

#dream smp #dream smp fic rec #fic rec #sbi #wilbur soot #tommyinnit

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mindmeltonabun-blog · 3 years

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Tale of the Nine Tailed: Explanation of Lee Rang’s Death and Lee Yeon’s Ending Scene

Well folks...here we are once again. I did say that I would not write another TOTNT post unless there was anything worth discussing in the finale. I know many of you may feel utterly devastated or somewhat confused by how TOTNT ended, but I hope my post will be able to comfort you somehow. Anyways, let’s put on our thinking caps one last time for TOTNT!

Lee Rang’s Death

One of the biggest complaints many have had is the death of Lee Rang. Many said that the writer did him dirty while others wished that Lee Yeon and Ji Ah would’ve died instead. However, when we looked at his character arc’s as a whole, his death was justified. We mustn’t forget that he murdered hundreds possibly thousands in wake of his anger.

Yes, he did do some good towards the end of his life such as taking in Yuri and Kim Soo, but that shouldn’t discredit all the atrocious acts he had committed in the past. Saving the life of two people doesn’t make up for all of the lives he had taken. Additionally, it is noted that Lee Rang did also assist the Imoogi’s group to bring the Imoogi back to life which caused for a slew of horrible events to occur in the first place.

In the end, it was Lee Rang’s turn to sacrifice for the one he loved. Everything in TOTNT is cyclic if you think about it. First Ah Eum died to save Lee Yeon then Lee Yeon died to save Ji Ah. Therefore, it was only logical that it was Lee Rang’s turn to die for the one he loved which was Lee Yeon.

Everything in life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine, what matters is what you do despite being dealt a bad fate. Both Lee Yeon and Ah Eum/Ji Ah weren’t dealt with a particularly good fate, but yet they still remained good people. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Lee Rang. Yes, he was dealt with a bad fate with having been born with a mother who didn’t want him, but he was also lucky because he had been taken in by a brother who greatly cherished him. Instead of appreciating the time he shared with Lee Yeon and remaining a good person even after the events of Lee Yeon leaving for the Samcheon River, Lee Rang still decided to take a turn for the worst.

Over and over again, Lee Rang had escaped the punishment he so rightly deserved. For example, even after killing those villagers, Lee Yeon spared his life. Lee Rang had been basically living off on borrowed time. In a way, Lee Rang was lucky that during that borrowed time he was able to resolve the misunderstanding he had with Lee Yeon as well as have a small family of his own. Finally, if there’s anything TOTNT has taught us, it’s that if something is the will of the afterlife judges, it will be carried out eventually. One can’t escape their punishment.

In my opinion, things could have gone a lot worse for Lee Rang in the end. Meaning he could have been reborn as a shrimp. Instead, the afterlife judges granted him reincarnation as a boy who had a mother who cared for him and granted him his last wish which was to meet his brother again. He got all of wishes fulfilled. Thus, it was a satisfying ending for Lee Rang.

Update 12/07/2020: Does Lee Yeon Meeting Reincarnated Lee Rang Indicate Many Years Have Passed?

No, it doesn’t. The team probably wanted to use the same child actor (Joo Won Lee; DOB: 05/03/2011) as to imply that Lee Rang had been successfully reincarnated. Sure, they could’ve used someone who was a few months old, but how then would Lee Yeon recognize Lee Rang ? Remember that Lee Yeon only met Lee Rang when he was around 9 years old. There would be no way for Lee Yeon to recognize what a few months old Lee Rang could’ve looked like. Get it ? Again, Lee Yeon meeting reincarnated Lee Rang happened in 2021!

Why Does Lee Yeon Still Have His Gumiho Powers?

Initially, when I first watched this I was beyond shocked, left confused, and was rethinking my opinion of Lee Yeon as a good person. However, once I watched it with subs and then did a little research into how Gumihos can become human, the ending scene made sense. Again, everyone should’ve taken Jo Bo Ah’s advice of looking up myths and see to how they pertain to whatever happened in TOTNT.

Anyways, in legends, Gumihos can become human in the following ways:

1) Refrain from killing and eating humans for 1000 days

2) The human who found out a Gumiho’s true nature, must tell no one of its secret for 10 years

3) Over a period of 100 days (other versions say 1000 days or ~3 years), Kumiho must not be detected by the human they are married to. If the Gumiho fails on this quest, they will lose any chance of becoming human and will be a Gumiho for 1000 years

4) Gumiho must consume the livers of 1000 humans over 1000 years. If they do not do this by the end of 1000 years, the Gumiho will dissolve in foam/bubbles

In particular, the ending scenes was in reference to #3. When Lee Yeon had came back to life, he was still technically a Gumiho hence why he could enter the Office of the Afterlife. I know you might ask well why didn’t Taluipa or Shin Ju sense he was still a fox? Because at the same time Lee Yeon was human, but only during the day or nights when there wasn’t a full moon (read further below for an explanation). Additionally, Lee Yeon probably didn’t tell Shin Ju because he didn’t want there to be any possibility that information would get leaked to Ji Ah. Better safe than sorry was Lee Yeon’s personal philosophy!

Although, Lee Yeon did come pretty close to being discovered as a Gumiho when he let it slip that he knew that their child would be a daughter. This all goes back to the intro in Ep 1 where it is said that Gumihos have the “ability to see miles ahead”. Luckily for Lee Yeon, he convincingly tricked Ji Ah and played it off as he was just saying weird things.

Until his 100 days were up, Lee Yeon had to keep his Gumiho nature hidden from the only person who mattered which was Ji Ah. Let’s be honest here, it’s really hard to trick Ji Ah so Lee Yeon had to be super careful around her. Usually in legends, Gumihos fall short of reaching the 100 days because they are discovered by their betrothed. During Lee Yeon’s 3 months transitional phase of becoming human, a situation arose that could’ve have caused Ji Ah to discover that Lee Yeon was still a Gumiho aka Mr Samjae entering into Ji Ah’s life.

This caused a problem because whatever misfortune befell on Ji Ah it would also inadvertently affect Lee Yeon too. Meaning that if Lee Yeon didn’t get rid of the Samjae, it could cause Ji Ah the misfortune of finding out Lee Yeon still was a Gumiho, thus ruining his plan of ever becoming human.

The only way anyone could tell Lee Yeon was still a Gumiho was to have seen him during a full moon. This was in reference to how in legends, werewolves (also in the same canine family as a fox) can only undergo transformation into a wolf when there was a full moon (symbolistic of metamorphosis). So while in the transitional state of Gumiho and human, Lee Yeon was able to take advantage of there being a full moon to be able to transform into a Gumiho. Subsequently, Lee Yeon then used his Gumiho abilities to rid of Mr. Samjae Spirit. Thus, Lee Yeon eliminated a potential threat that could have caused Ji Ah to find out his Gumiho nature before the 3 months of remaining undetected was completed.

Flash forward approximately 3-4 years later after Lee Yeon’s face off with the Samjae, Lee Yeon is now seen as having been successful at becoming a full human as well as having daughter with Ji Ah as seen here in the following pictures (family picnic). My only complaint is that the production/editing team ended up deciding to not include the following scene. I do not know whether it was their decision or the writer’s to not include this. There could be numerous reasons why such as they had wanted to leave the possibility of there being a season 2 or there was limited time allotted for the length of ep 16 or the writer had wanted to leave an open ending. Whatever the reason, I do hope we will eventually show this to us. In doing so, they would give so many of us the proper closure we needed for TOTNT!

Side note, it looks like Lee Yeon and Ji Ah did end up introducing their daughter to her adoptive grandparents. Awww!

Updated 12/07/2020: Timeline of Samjae + Lee Yeon’s Transitional Period

There were also a bunch of questions concerning when exactly the whole scenes with Ji Ah and Lee Yeon had occurred. This occurred in 2021.

Samjae is believed to occur over a three-year period, and follows calculations based on the twelve zodiac signs. The first of the three years is known as deulsamjae (Kor. 들삼재, lit. entering the three calamities), the second, nuulsamjae (Kor. 누울삼재, lit. middle of calamities), and the third, nalsamjae (Kor. 날삼재, exiting the three calamities). The first year in this three-year cycle is supposed to be the most unfortunate.

Source: https://folkency.nfm.go.kr/en/topic/detail/4151

So doing a little math, one will be able to see what years the Samjae entered (deulsamjae), remained (nuulsamjae), and then exited (nalsamjae). So the Samjae entered into Ji Ah’s life in 1994, 2003, 2012, and 2021. The cycle of every 9 years refers to the time period from one Deulsamjae year to the next (not every 9 years from her year of birth). For example, 1994 + 9 = 2003, 2003 + 9 = 2012, and 2012 + 9 = 2021.

What the show was trying to convey is that when Mr. Samjae came into Ji Ah’s life, it also coincided at the same time as Lee Yeon’s 3 months transitional period. Additionally, there were some who asked, “Aren't we to assume that many years have passed because Lee Yeon did say first root canal, first picnic, first snowfall, etc ?”. No, I took that scene as him mentioning things he either already did or will eventually experience.

Anyways, I really didn’t think I needed to point all of this out because I had assumed you all would’ve put on your thinking caps by now!

Last Remarks.

I hope that this post was able to resolve any confusion many of you may have had about the last episode. The writer did truly keep us on our toes until the very end. But with a little research into myths as well as analyzing everything as a whole, one should’ve been able to understand where the writer was coming from. Again, I want to give a big thanks to the cast, crew, and writer for all their hard work to give us TOTNT!

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gaeilgeoirgay · 3 years

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SpideyTorch Week Day Three Alternate Universe

For Day Three, I chose an alternate universe in which our favourite couple are the villains! This one is a bit darker than usual, and there’s a mild instance of torture, that isn’t explicitly described near the end, so do watch out for that

Ao3 Link

@spideytorchweek

they don’t question our violence

“Hello, Spidey. Nice of you to swing by.” Comes a mocking voice from behind him. Peter almost swears, his Spidey Sense hadn’t even warned him, the traitor! Clearly it doesn’t think of Morning Star as a threat despite the fact Johnny has tried to kill him on several occasions. Maybe. To be fair, the Dock Incident was Peter’s fault and Morning Star hasn’t attempted murder in ten months, coinciding with the new depths of their relationship.

And it’s not like Peter is a complete angel either. The Wolf Spider is a name synonymous with death and blood- at least Morning Star tends to stick with arson. Peter is a mercenary, it’s not like he can judge his pyromaniac boyfriend.

“Hi, starlight. I have a job for us, and we get to explode the place afterwards.” Peter says, turning around to smile at Johnny, who perks up at the idea. He lets his flames fizzle out and lands next to Peter, who gratefully accepts the kiss he’s given. It’s freezing right now, and even the slightest bit of warmth makes a difference to Peter’s non-regulating self. There’s also the fact he’s kissing Johnny. That’s a big factor.

He turns fully around to kiss Johnny properly, taking care with his fangs so his venom doesn’t enter Johnny’s bloodstream. He rather likes his boyfriend and he doesn’t want to kill him. Johnny eventually pulls back to smile brightly at Peter.

“What’s the job, Fangs? I like the sound of it already.” He says. Peter beckons him up onto the vent protruding from the building they’re on, hopping up himself to swing his legs childishly. Johnny joins him, feet tapping impatiently.

“I met Remy Le Beau downtown a few days ago. He mentioned that there’ve been a few disappearances lately, mainly mutant children living on the streets that don’t appear on official records. I did some digging and it turns out there’s a lab set up in the Bronx that’s been experimenting on mutant kids.” Peter explains, scowling now. “Officially, it’s a gene lab where volunteers donate samples to be studied for cures to various diseases. There’s about twenty kids there now from what I can tell. Remy can’t blow it to hell himself without attracting attention to Xavier but if we free the kids and then happen to torch it, people won’t question our violence.” He finishes.

Johnny is frowning now too. “What excuse are we giving for the attack though?” He asks and Peter laughs. “That’s the best bit. We’re not giving an excuse, we’re telling everyone they were experimenting on children. Their encryptions are ridiculously bad and there’s already been a call for an inquiry into them by S.I. They’re subsidised by Oscorp and it’ll damage their stocks once it gets out that not only did they block the investigation, they funded the lab too.” He explains and Johnny grins.

“Two birds with one stone. Save the kids and piss off Green Goblin. I’m down.” He says and Peter stands. Johnny does too and Peter challenges him to a race across the city. They may be supervillains but they can still have fun.

The building is near deserted when they get there, other than a few dedicated workers and the overnight security guards. The employees aren’t aware of where their samples come from, only the top scientists know about the mutants and the security guards were never told they were guarding people instead of chemicals so they’ve agreed to leave them mostly alone.

Johnny silently melts a window on the top floor and they sneak into the building, avoiding the admittedly meagre defences.

They soon find a bright red door labelled DANGER and according to the blueprints that Peter acquired, the kids should be behind it.

They crumple easily under Peter’s enhanced strength and Johnny groans at the display. “I love it when you break metal with your bare hands.” He whispers and Peter smothers a laugh. They step over the ruined doors to find the kids in chains.

“Oh I can’t wait to set this place on fire.” Johnny growls harshly and Peter shushes him. There’s a computer terminal by the door so he plugs in a device he built himself that will copy the information on the mainframe to his personal store while deleting every other existing copy. He’ll probably delete his own copy once he goes through it, but he’d prefer to know if some sort of power-killing virus was made before he gets hit with it. Probably by Ross, may he die in agony.

The two of them set to work on the chains, Peter snapping them and Johnny turning them to molten slag. The kids are utterly silent, even when the two villains are reassuring them softly and Peter vows to hunt down every last disgrace to science that was involved in the lab.

Finally, the last chain clatters to the floor and all the kids are free. Remy had promised them assistance from two X-men who would be able to get the kids out of the lab so Peter and Johnny could get to burning it down.

They herd the kids to the window they broke in through and are met by the dark form of Archangel. The mutant’s normally pure white wings are covered in dark metal to blend in with the night but he’s still gentle with the children and they seem a bit less scared to see someone who’s so obviously like them.

Peter watches one little girl with red, scaly wings looking in awe between herself and the hero and smiles. He glances at Johnny and a thought comes to him. He wants that. Him and Johnny, with a kid each, maybe one girl and one boy or two of the same gender.

Hmm. That’s something to consider later. For now, he watches Archangel fly the kids one-by-one to a nearby safehouse where Nightcrawler is waiting to bring the kids to Xavier’s mansion the next morning. They deserve a good nights rest before moving somewhere completely different to everything they’ve ever known.

Archangel returns after the last child has been delivered to Nightcrawler and perches on the windowsill, regarding Peter and Johnny with a slight measure of respect.

“I met Nightcrawler in a mutant fighting ring. Neither of us wanted to be there but we never got the chance to escape. I got hurt and Mystique spirited him away but we never knew what happened to the ring. These kids though, they’re not gonna have that.” He plucks a metal feather from the edge of his wings, the edges razor sharp.

“Hurt those monsters and hurt them well. Maybe some of the more sheltered mutants at home won’t understand but I do. Slit their throats with that and leave them to choke. It’s more than they deserve.” Archangel says solemnly, rage glinting in his eyes. Peter exchanges looks with Johnny and then grins.

“Maybe heroes can’t be caught torturing people but there’s a reason I walk the other side of the line. We won’t make it quick.” Peter promises and Archangel returns the smile. Peter has no doubt that any scientists he and Johnny fail to find will turn up with mysterious wounds soon enough.

Archangel flies off to join Nightcrawler and Wolf Spider and Morning Star stalk back into the labs. The head scientists have been staying in a penthouse apartment above the labs while they run their tests and that’s their destination.

The elevator lets them up after a few key strokes from the Spider and they emerge into a wide-open space, the complete opposite of the small room the kids had been chained in. There are doors off of the main room and the Spider quickly matches them up with what he found in their database.

The third door to the right should belong to Henry Lawson, the torturer in chief. Morning Star melts the lock and they slip into his room silently. The bastard is sleeping peacefully in his bed but it won’t be long before that changes.

Morning Star fingers the metal feather Archangel gave them and slowly starts to heat it up. It’s made of strong stuff and even though the metal is glowing red it’s not metal. It serves as a rude wake-up call when it’s pressed to Lawson’s jaw.

He squeals like a stuck pig and the Spider thanks God for soundproofing. They’re nowhere near done with Lawson just yet.

An hour later, Lawson is thoroughly deceased and they move onto their next target. All six die painfully and Wolf Spider takes a twisted pleasure in it. Still, they have a job to do and they can’t spend as much time on their other targets as they did on Lawson.

Johnny plants his favourite explosives and Peter carelessly pulls the fire alarm. They find a good vantage point on the building across from the lab and wait until the last heat signature leaves the building and emergency services are seconds from the scene to trigger the bombs.

Johnny floats in front of the lab for a few seconds before he unleashes a torrent of flames into the already-blazing building. It only feeds the raging fire and Peter knows it will take quite some time to put it out, Not his problem. He’s too busy planning their next hits on the scientists that hadn’t lived above the lab.

Johnny lands on the roof next to him with a sharp exhale and Peter drapes himself over his back. “Twelve people left on the list, starlight. I vote we eat, have a fantastic night in bed and then brutally murder them all. Their dirty secrets are set to be released to the public in four and a half hours, just in time for the news cycle.” Peter says, tracing letters on Johnny’s back.

“You give the best presents, my Spider. I can’t wait to hunt.” Morning Star replies.

#spideytorchweek2021 #spideytorchweek #day three au #spideytorch #tw mild torture #tw violence #peter parker #johnny storm #warren worthington iii

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not-safeforsanders · 4 years

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Be My Baby/Devil Like You

Fic Synopsis: Roman knows how to dance, Patton knows how to pray, Remus knows how to use his mouth and Logan knows how to shut it. Meanwhile, Virgil and Janus think they’re all idiots and are begging for some healthy communication. (University!AU) (18+)

Chapter Synopsis: There’s no time frame for ‘ready’ Patton thought it would take longer, but in his experience so far trying is usually what gets him on that path.

Warnings: It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger regarding Patton’s general wellbeing

Ships for the whole fic: Intrulogical, Royality, Anxceit, Logan/Remy/Remus/Emile. (Lomile and Remus/Remy separately too)

Word Count: 7857

Have ur age in ur bio or DNI.

A/N: I have re-written this six times, edited it like at least ten I’m so sorry if this is not perfect, I really wanted it to be but I need this damn chapter out before i commit murder.

Monday

“I want to talk about something,” the words leave Patton’s mouth so firmly that he shocks himself with his own confidence. He’s stood with his back against Roman’s door whilst the dancer looks up from the plates he’s just about setting down carefully on the bed, (trying to make sure the contents do not get knocked all over his covers) the apparent routine they have, to be followed up by a film on Netflix for the two of them. He looks up attentively, his back straightening out at the commanding tone that he’s not quite used to coming out of the other man. “I want to…” Patton swallows dryly. “I want to talk about sex.” Again, the firmness is unexpected, and Roman’s eyebrows raise.

“Uh...okay.” The redhead replies with far less conviction, feeling like his entire brain is melting just from the tone the other man is using. It doesn’t sound like Patton, it sounds so firm and confident, which he’s sure is to some degree false. “Then, by all means, let’s talk, but you don’t have to stand up to do it.” He gives a small and slightly weak smile that is received by a nod and a relieved exhale before Patton steps further into the room; Roman places his laptop down on the chair but doesn’t play the movie just yet. They both pick up their plates and sit down on the bed.

For a moment, the blond just stares firmly straight ahead, gathering his courage. Roman notices his hands are shaking but doesn’t call attention to it, instead he turns to look up at his partner’s face. “I’m all ears,” he encourages quietly.

Patton nods, biting his lip. “I…” he clears his throat a little “...I’ve been spending a lot of nights here now, and that’s okay, that’s good I love it but...I...uh…” ‘Just talk honestly, be communicative,’ he can hear a voice that sounds strangely like Emile at the back of his head. “I keep waking up feeling very hot and sometimes…” he bites his lip again, gesturing with his head as if he’s hoping Roman will get the message.

“And sometimes…?” Roman repeats back to him, demonstrating that he is not, in fact, a mind reader.

“If I say wet will you laugh at me?” Patton mumbles, the confidence slipping.

“Oh! You’re having wet dreams?” There’s no tact or embarrassment in this man, he swears to God. “Well that’s fine, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be emba-”

“Yes, but I specifically only have them when I’m sleeping with you.” Patton rushes out quickly. “And the point is I can keep trying to run away and pretend that it’s not happening but it’s frustrating me and driving me up the damn wall and I just want…” he takes a deep breath inwards, his whole body shaking with the forcefulness of the exhale. “...I want to try something more, it’s my understanding that these things come in stages, and...I think I’m ready too, if you are, if you want too that is...to at least try? And then if I want to stop or I don’t like it I can say stop, right?”

Roman goes very quiet for a moment, staring at his plate. “Are you sure?” he asks finally, Patton nods. “Are you really sure?”

“I am, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since the first time you touched me...well, I’m fairly certain I’ve been thinking about it since I met you, actually.” He gives a sheepish sort of smile. “Now though, I actually have some control over my thoughts a-and I trust you, I trust you to stop if it’s too much for me, but I’ve gotten used to thinking about it, that doesn’t scare me so much, and now I’m used to uh…” he clears his throat a little again, his cheeks heating up the more he rambles, barely pausing for a breath “...touching myself, so I think I’m ready to try more; because it’s always scary at first but then it stops once I get used to it so I think the next step is that.”

“Okay,” Roman says simply, picking up his fork. “Then we can give it a try,” then he just eats, like the conversation isn’t the biggest one they’ve had in their relationship; internally he’s screaming, he’s a little terrified but overwhelmingly excited. “I have one condition; you tell me immediately if something’s wrong, and we take it slowly, I don’t want to try too much at once.”

He says this like his mind hasn’t spent a good seven or so weeks thinking about what that would be like, what Patton would be or feel like.

But this is a one-step-at-a-time situation, they both need it to be one foot in front of the other, not an avalanche at once.

“I will,” Patton meets his eyes with a small smile that looks far more excited and nervous than Roman is used to seeing on his face.

“Do you want to...set a date or time or?”

“I’m not that awkward,” he laughs softly, turning back to the meal that is getting far too cold to be comfortable digesting. “Let’s just let it come naturally.”

Tuesday

The next morning comes and goes. Although Patton wakes up feeling flushed and a little too hot, he has classes to get through, so he presses a kiss to Roman’s forehead and says he’ll see him later. He doesn’t want it to be rushed, the experience that is, but he takes no qualms stepping under the hot water of his own shower, resting his head against the wall.

He’s getting quite used to waking up feeling a little too hot, and very much hard. Especially once he started sleeping in Roman’s bed, he’s not entirely sure why he thought it wouldn’t have an effect on him at all, but he knows it’s normal. He hadn’t so much as a hug for years so the physical contact (no matter how small) drives him insane emotionally and sexually.

He thinks about Roman touching him a lot lately, too, but quite like the masturbation, the more the thoughts came the less they distressed him. He indulges them, thinking of Roman’s hands on the back of his thighs, squeezing. He thinks about the way his hips had jolted then, imagining the hands had drifted to his growing arousal. Patton thinks about that, now, in the shower, his breath fogging up the glass cubicle with the steam.

Sometimes, he gets bad thoughts too, Emile said that’s normal and natural and the key is not to push the thoughts away but to let them be there, and reason with them. Forcing the thoughts out just makes them come back stronger, and that can make recovering from his upbringing harder in the long run.

But this time around there’s no bad thoughts, there’s just him panting under the hot water of the shower until his legs shake and he has to hold himself up a little, hips jerking into his own touch as he moans out Roman’s name with his whole chest.

He loves how Roman’s name sounds on his tongue when he says it like that. This must be the third or so time now. It sounds different, heavier, somehow more...reverent.

When he steps out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror, he almost doesn’t recognise his own face; he doesn’t know why at first, but then he understands it’s because he’s smiling.

Wednesday

Roman went shopping in the morning, apparently in desperate need of some new clothes. He went with Virgil, on the pure coincidence that the two needed to go into town and figured they may as well have some company. Patton spends the majority of the day trying to figure out if there’s a certain way to act during sex.

The curly-haired boy is thinking about it as he pushes food around his plate in the kitchen, Janus is cooking and talking about something, but when they fall into silence (bar the sound of food being scraped out of the pan) all the bubbling insecurities fall out of him.

He blurts out that question to Janus: “Is there a certain way to act during sex?” The other man had already told him if he has questions he’s welcome to ask before, both he and Virgil had, and somehow Patton doesn’t think Logan can help with this one.

The blond had laughed, not unkindly, just amused by the way he’d asked. “Roman would want you to be you, no more or less, besides, if sex was a performance no-one would ever want to do it.” He’d sat up on the breakfast bar and narrowed his eyes a little, studying Patton’s face. “It’s a bit fast, you’ve only been together...five weeks? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I don’t know,” Patton shrugs truthfully. “I just know it’s what I want and I feel like I’m going to go insane if I don’t have it, it’s also not like I can’t say no if I change my mind.”

The other man hums a little bit, sighing. “Will you know when you want to say no, though?” Patton’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Sometimes it’s not always easy to tell, for some people who often have confusing and conflicting emotions and that’s been their norm, it can be harder to tell.”

“I can usually tell when something is wrong.”

“And do you manage it?” The curly-haired man nods, he does, he knows how to manage the bad thoughts and the good thoughts too and how to untangle them from each other. “Good, next question is do you have any idea what the fuck you’re doing? Have you set boundaries? Educated yourself?” Patton’s mouth opens and closes again. “Oh for fuck’s sake, come on church kid, let’s get you an education.”

Which is how he ended up sat on Janus’ bed, eyebrows furrowed as he reads a computer screen. “That’s how that works?” He whispers, eyes wide. The other man, cracking open a can of cider with a sigh, gives an amused smile and takes a drink. “Okay, so I think I get the basis of it.” He mutters.

“What’s the first thing you remember?”

“Lube and a condom,” Patton relays, more concerned with being right than embarassed.

“And when do you use those?”

“You can use lube any time that you need, including masturbation, but should definitely be used for penetrative sex…” Janus nods, encouraging him along “...and condoms should be used for oral and penetrative sex, or if you just don’t want to make a mess.”

“Good!” He grins wide, placing his can down to pull open his drawer, he digs around for a moment. “...and also use a condom if you share toys although...that probably is not an issue for you,” he states this with an amused but not mocking smile. Out of the drawer, he pulls out a paper bag and then chucks Patton a small bottle. “You can have that, it’s not been opened yet but you might find jacking off a little bit more pleasant, if you need condoms just come and knock, I don’t care if you’re just about to go at it or it’s awkward, would rather you be a little embarrassed than get sick.”

The smaller man nods, staring at the bottle in his hand.

“When you run out of that, you can get it at basically any drugstore, I’m sure Roman will take you.” Patton nods again, starting to feel like one of those bobblehead dolls. “Now, here are some truths about sex that literally no porn will tell you: actually have you ever even watched porn?”

“I...uh...no,”

“Okay, well if you want to see how the logistics of gay sex looks, hop onto pornhub, however, don’t take it as truth or fact, they’re actors and they’re paid to look and sound like that.” How he has so much composure is utterly impeccable to the other man, who is starting to wish he had not asked but is simultaneously relieved anyone is teaching him this at all.

Like Emile had said, he has friends willing to teach him. So here he is, being taught, by maybe the only person in this flat that wouldn’t make that a little weird. Janus always has that sort of calmness about him that is both serious and light-hearted, and Patton doesn’t think he’s ever seen him give so much as a blush. When Remus makes overly explicit jokes he’s the one that laughs.

“So, weird truths about sex; it isn’t all serious and you’re allowed to have a laugh, sometimes it can feel like you’re bloody marrying someone and sometimes it’s like a casual conversation, the more you get to know someone’s body the less intense it seems too.” Patton has never heard someone describe sex as a ‘casual conversation’ but something about that seems intimate and pleasant.

“Your body will sometimes make strange noises, more noticeably during penetrative sex, if you’re having all that air fucked into you it’s going to need to come out, sometimes you’ll accidentally make a strange noise, or you’ll get tickled and need to laugh...it’s fine, and your partner won’t mind.” The taller man says that with a delicate sort of smile that has Patton thinking he’s recalling something from memory; but also when his eyes drift a little to the patched-up hoodie on the back of his own desk chair (an item that definitely belongs to Virgil), Patton thinks he must really love the other man to get that sort of look on his face.

“You might take a break halfway through and come back to it, you might have a whole conversation during it, there’s no real script to this and it’s alright to just say ‘look, I need a second, physically or mentally’.” Patton knew this one, he’s heard that before but he can’t remember if it was Roman, Emile or Logan who said it, these days all his information seems to swirl around. He supposes what matters is that he remembers it.

“There’s no endgame; if you never have penetrative sex or you don’t like it...that’s completely fine, it’s no more or less intimate to jack someone off, at the end of the day someone is touching you and you are touching them and that’s already a level of bravery that takes most years to undergo.” He’s definitely not heard it described as ‘brave’ either. It gives him a small smile to think of it like that, he supposes it is brave in a way. Actually yes, he decides, he is brave for making this decision, maybe very stupid too but there is always going to be a panic in him he can’t shake.

“Also, cum tastes weird if you ever taste it...it’s not a pleasant taste; chances are Roman will get tested or will have gotten tested beforehand so under the assumption he is the person you’re fucking...if he’s not I have a handful of questions and a bottle of wine to open...ask him beforehand if he’s gotten tested, he won’t be offended believe me.”

“That’s a lot of information,” Patton whispers.

“It is, but it’s important information to have; you can’t spend the entire experience worrying or feeling embarrassed all the time, you’ve got to acknowledge that sometimes strange things happen during sex, like getting accidentally tickled, or your stomach rumbling, or needing to fart...it’s not all glamour, it’s just bodies doing what bodies do.”

Something about that sentence shucks half of the fears Patton had had right off of his shoulders, making a soft ‘huh’ noise in response. Just what bodies do. That makes him feel somehow...less tense about the entire situation. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“You can ask, I can’t guarantee I’ll answer though.” Patton gives a small, tired smile.

“What’s the worst experience you’ve had?”

Janus hums with a small grin that reassures Patton he’s not asking a deeply personal question. “It’s kind of funny now, but the first time I had sex with Virgil I was so anxious that I threw up afterwards, he finds it really funny now, and he thought it was cute at the time that I’d gotten that worked up over it.” The other man bites back a half-covered laugh whilst Janus takes another long sip from his can, still grinning.

“I feel bad that I’m laughing but...that sounds like something I would do.”

“And if it is, then I promise you you’ll end up laughing about it for the rest of your lives.” He gives a fond smile, it sinks in on Patton that the rest of his life is something he gets to live, and the idea of living it with anyone at all is exhilarating. Janus seems pretty aware of the fact he intends to spend his with Virgil, but they’d known each other for so long the idea of being with anyone else must seem strange to them both.

“At the end of the day the reason you have sex, and the reason I have sex is more than just scratching an itch, it’s because you desire to be vulnerable with someone and in return...them with you.” Patton’s shoulders relaxed a little, a small smile on his lips, that does make sense. He’d been thinking about this in terms of sexual desire, something his body wants.

But there’s a reason that his desire is for Roman. He’s found plenty of men attractive, even, although he wouldn’t admit it at the time, arousing. But he wants Roman, his body wants Roman too but his heart and soul wants him to be close to the other man. He craves it.

They both hear the heavy front door opening and closing and Janus tips his can towards Patton with his eyebrows raised. “And there’s our peace and quiet gone.” He says it with so much amusement that Patton knows he isn’t being serious, especially as there’s no way of hiding the way he sits up that much straighter at the sound of Virgil’s voice, like a lost puppy looking for it’s master.

Now that’s a thought.

Janus’ door opens and the purple-haired man stands in the doorway with several bags, his head tilted to the side over his shoulder as he props open the bedroom door, still chatting to Roman before he turns to face the two in his second room. “Hey I got...oh, hi Patton, Roman you’ve lost your boy, he’s with mine!” The redhead comes into view, a grin on his face as he holds his own shopping bags.

“Your boy?” Roman asks, amusement in his tone as he leans against the doorframe. “Patton is his own boy.”

“I’m his boy,” Janus nods, agreeing “I’m not arguing with that, I want to know what’s in the Ann Summers bag far too much.” Virgil’s smile turns a little more flirtatious. Patton figures he does not want to hear any more of that conversation. “You might want to camp in Roman’s room tonight Pat.”

“Thank you,” the smaller man is still clutching onto the bottle of lube, he holds it a little awkwardly as he brushes past Virgil, who raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t look suspicious, just mildly amused. The door locks behind Patton and he stands in the hallway, in front of Roman, still holding the bottle in his hand. “I...uh...asked one question, and I ended up being given sex education.”

“That...that sounds like Janus, yes.” He holds up his shopping bags. “I got you a present!” Patton straightens up at that, following the other man to his bedroom as he places the bags down. “Logan told me your dress size, but I figured as you seemed to really like your last one…” He hands a bag over, which Patton takes gingerly. This one is a deep red, the same sort of style as the last one, a tight bodice with a floaty skirt, but the sleeves were long and...almost net-like in texture. The smaller man beams ecstatically, holding the dress up to his chest. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you!” He grins giddily, wrapping his arms around the other man.

“And I figured, in that vein, how would you like to go on a date tomorrow night?” Patton inhales sharply, biting his lip a little, before nodding. He wants to wear his pretty dress, and he wants to go on a date. “I found this really nice restaurant in the gay district, it has gender-neutral bathrooms so you’ll feel comfortable using the toilet and stuff in this attire...if that’s what you want to wear, the staff are lovely too.”

Patton smiles and nods, enjoying the sound of Roman’s heart beating. “I’d love that.”

Thursday

Thursday passed by so slowly it was agonising. Patton had his morning and afternoon classes and they dragged by so torturously slow that he’s sure the day might halt and start running backwards.

Finally, the evening comes and he slams his books shut, hardly able to contain just how giddy he feels. He showers, washes his hair and shaves the very little facial hair he manages to ever grow (the hair on his face is very thin and very light and never amounts to much, whilst the hair on his arms always seems a little thicker, probably because he doesn’t eat enough)

He slides on that dress, and again he struggles with the zipper, staring at himself in the mirror with a frown. A knock at the door has him practically growling in frustration as he tugs it open to find Logan on the other side. “Remus told me that Roman told him that he’s taking you on a date tonight and I was instructed by Remus to give you these, he said they’ll look nice with your dress and that they’re new and he’s never worn them.”

Patton takes the bag suspiciously, a gift from Remus usually comes with a price. Logan stares at him for a very long moment, seemingly having an internal argument before he sighs. “Let me do your hair, it’s getting way too long.” Which is how Patton ended up getting his hair combed and pinned in Logan’s bedroom, (thankfully the other man had helped him zip up the dress too). “I used to do my mother’s hair,” he explains with a little smile as if it’s a fond memory he has. “Sometimes she wouldn’t be able to do it herself, so I would do it for her.” He slides the last hair grip. “Since I’ve been growing my hair out, incidentally, it wasn’t really a conscious choice, I’ve found these help keep it out of my eyes.”

Patton’s hair is not long, but the fluffy curls that usually fall straight into his glasses are now clipped out of his eyes, instead of merging with the ones that fall down to the base of his neck. If he grew it out a little longer, maybe just past his shoulder blades, he thinks that would look quite nice.

He thanks Logan and disappears back to his own room, opening the bag. They’re...something, he doesn’t know what at first as he opens the packaging and then gives a short laugh, right, of course this is something Remus would own. They’re tights, he thinks that’s what they’re called, except up to just above the knees they’re black, and shaped into little cat ears at the top, and then the rest are almost see-through, he understands they must be delicate as he pulls them up carefully.

He looks nice if he does say so himself.

He puts on that little angel necklace, it hangs just above the crucifix around his neck. Patton’s fingertips come up to trace the jewellery, wondering why the sensation makes him feel...warm, not in a flustered way, but an erotic one. He realises after a second that it’s the sensation of the tights on his thighs that are doing it, and makes a small sort of ‘huh’ noise in response.

The sensation leaves after a moment and he shakes his head, he gets the feeling he’s constantly going to be finding new things out about himself from here on out.

Roman knocks at his door and he opens it, smiling up at him; the taller man always has this look on his face when he sees Patton, a little bit of awe, a lot of reverie, like he’s looking not at a person but some sort of mystical creature. Roman makes him feel just that much powerful too, sometimes.

And Roman, by the way, looks amazing. He’s wearing a white shirt made of some thin, floaty material, the front tucked in and the rest out, and black jeans that are so tight that Patton’s fairly sure he can’t stop staring at his thighs if he tried. He’s definitely sure he can’t stop thinking about squeezing them against his palm and feeling them tense the way his own do when...he catches his own thoughts and instead takes the arm offered, thinking he could really do with getting through the evening without all of his blood abandoning his brain.

They get a taxi to the restaurant and he wishes he was a little less nervous as he takes Roman’s hand in his own. The place is big and pretty, near the club they’d been to twice, there are fairy lights hanging up everywhere and strips of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. It smells like cinnamon and herbal teas and something very nice.

They’re seated at a table and Patton is just a little bit enthralled by the groups of people sitting on couches at tables, leaning into each other and laughing, drinking and eating. He’s a little bit overwhelmed to see couples being affectionate with each other so easily, and even one group of three people who seemed equally invested in each other. He takes a deep breath in and wonders if this is what coming home should feel like.

Roman squeezes his hand and picks up the menu.

The server comes over to take their drinks order, he smiles a lot and walks the way Remus does, like he’s on a mission and high on life; he must feel safe here, Patton knows he does, as he holds Roman’s hand over the table and not under it. They drink tea in a flavour that tastes like berries, that absolutely drives the smaller man insane. “They make tea that tastes like berries?” He’d exclaimed, completely absorbed by the whole page of teas, Roman had just leaned his head on his hand and smiled at Patton like he was the entire sun itself.

Then they ordered food, it’s not a big meal but Patton is not a big eater anyway, Roman, however, loves his food, and ends up with one and a half desserts (the half being the remnants of Patton’s, which was more like three quarters).

By the time they get outside Patton is walking on light itself with his happiness, ecstatically talking about his night as though Roman was not there for it. His partner just watches him gesture and spin on the spot, tripping over his own words as he understands that Patton has never really had a community before. This must mean the world to him. Roman catches his hand and leans down to kiss him, unable to resist a second longer as that smile sinks against his lips and Patton’s hands grip his shirt.

Then the taxi pulls up and they pull apart.

Halfway back, the adrenaline starts to wear off and Patton rests his head on Roman’s shoulder, yawning as his body curls up to his boyfriend’s, sinking under the arm that wraps protectively around him.

He’s tired by the time they’re back at their flat and Roman chuckles softly, kissing the top of his head. He sits Patton down at his desk chair and carefully pulls the pins from his hair, his fingertips carding gently through the free curls as they message against his scalp with the softest touch. The threads of his hair tangle carefully around his fingers and Patton leans his head back into the touch with a gentle sigh of content, his eyes closing.

Roman smiles down at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, it lingers, firm but not oppressive. Then he pulls back and moves to the front of the other man, his hand coming up to brush a curl from Patton’s eyes with a gentle brush of his fingertips. Then he kneels down on the floor to undo Patton’s shoes for him, sliding his feet out of them slowly, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull too hard or too fast, and although neither would hurt Patton, he feels like he needs to treat him with the same amount of delicacy one would a butterfly. The bright blue eyes open slowly and took in a deep breath as he takes in the sight of Roman on his knees in front of him (for him).

Oh, he wishes he wasn’t tired, because there’s something very wonderful about the redhead staring up at him like that.

Roman’s hands slide up his legs gently, fingertips and palms ghosting over the length of him from his heel up to his knees. He leans up with the movement and Patton leans down to meet him halfway, kissing him slowly, his heart rate rockets in his chest as those calloused hands move to rest on his thighs with an ease that is almost featherlight.

He takes Roman’s hands in his own and slides them up the sides of his thighs. Roman doesn’t look as Patton lifts his hips and he slides the tights carefully down his legs. His hands graze against Patton’s skin and his breath hitches deeply against his own lips, then the smaller man leans back, just to watch Roman’s hands slide them off his ankles and feet, placing the article of clothing near his shoes. There’s a heated look in Patton’s eyes, his cheeks flushed as he smiles down at his partner (a very small smile, dazed and wanting).

“Bedtime for you,” Roman whispers, voice catching in his throat, his whisper sounds like a shout in the static silence. Patton’s smile widens a little, a little laugh exhaling through his nose.

“I can’t reach the zipper on this dress,” he manages back, just as quietly and yet far too loudly. “Could you get that for me?” The look on Roman’s face would be priceless if it wasn’t so endearing, his eyes going a little wide and his cheeks almost as red as his hair.

He stands from his knees (Patton wishes he’d stay there, in front of his slightly spread legs and his hands on his thighs, he looks so good knelt in front of him, he doesn’t really know why his whole body flushes under that thought), he holds out a hand and helps Patton to stand, the blond faces the wall with a movement far too graceful to be naturally his own.

Roman’s hand comes up to the zipper and slides it down far too slowly, his knuckles graze Patton’s spine and the smaller man feels eyes close from the movement, his skin feeling hot where their bodies touch even just slightly. He looks back a little at Roman, his eyebrows raised almost defiantly, the other man grins at the mischief in his eyes and shakes his head a little. Then, his hands slide the dress down Patton’s shoulders, his palms pressing to the skin that’s exposed as he drags the material off of his arms. The smaller man leans against him, his eyes closing at the touch, as it falls to the floor and pools around his ankles, Patton steps backwards, out of it, and presses their bodies flush together.

The feeling of Roman’s clothes against his almost naked body has him feeling so heated, but as Roman’s hands fall to his waist he gets a much more immediate, fierce, sensation (like boiling water crawling through his stomach), fast and twisting. Roman’s fingertips trace the waistband of his boxers with no intention to do anything more, but Patton feels his abdomen tense when his palm pressed to his lower stomach. He can’t help it, he shifts a little, his body pressing back against Roman’s.

He presses back hard, his head leaning against the taller body that fits against his own like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Roman’s nails dig in against his skin by half an inch and the sensation, oh god, the sensation that brings has Patton’s whole body feeling weak. His body rocks back like a shockwave had shorted in his veins.

There’s a little sense of pride, and fear (but not terror), when he feels that Roman is almost hard, pressing against the curve of his ass. He knows if he turned around now he could have whatever he wanted from the other, whose hands are shaking against his skin (nails digging in just a little, just enough, he feels like he can’t breathe and yet he’s so alive). He could kiss him and prise whatever it is he desired from those hands.

Will he ever stop thinking about those hands?

Still, he’s tired, and Roman’s tired, and he doesn’t want this to be rushed, and he wants it to be remembered. So he just steps forward a little, his fingertips intertwining with the hand on his stomach. He turns to face Roman with some distance between them, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Thank you,” he smiles, bending down to pick up the dress and hang it on the back of the desk chair. “That felt nice.” Roman smiles back, not upset by the distance but a little confused at what had just happened.

Still, he undresses and offers Patton a shirt, and asks him if he wants him to wear a shirt too, but Patton just shakes his head and rests his glasses on the bedside table. No, he wants to feel as much of Roman’s body as he can right now (feel him rest his hands on his back, he wants to feel them on his body). If he were brave enough, he might’ve taken off his underwear too.

Friday

Patton wakes up lying half on top of Roman, his leg and arm lying across the other man’s body. He half opens his eyes to find Roman staring down at him with slight amusement, leaning over the side of the bed to offer him a bottle of water that he must’ve gotten up and filled whilst Patton had been sleeping, Patton lifts his head a little, indicating he has no intention of moving; the other man laughs softly, shaking his head as he unscrews the cap and lifts the bottle to Patton’s lips.

He swears the other man makes very deliberate eye contact with him as he does.

Then Patton rests his head back down against his chest, still half asleep as he lightly squeezes the other man with his arm, his hand tucked up next to Roman’s ribs whilst the other man traces circles through his spin comfortingly.

“Fancy a bed day?” Roman asks. “We can just watch movies.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“Yeah, about three hours ago.” Roman laughs softly. “It’s nearly one in the afternoon Pat.” The blond lifts his head in surprise. “I didn’t want to leave you alone so I just told them I wasn’t feeling well.” The moment Patton looks like he’s about to protest, Roman hushes him. “Let’s have some breakfast.”

Patton pulls on a shirt and rolls up the cuffs of Roman’s sweats to make some waffles, they eat, brush their teeth, and clamber back into bed with the laptop set up on the chair, playing a film they hadn’t yet watched. The smaller man holds onto Roman like he’s terrified he’ll disappear if he lets go, his mind playing the previous night over and over again. Where had that confidence come from? He wonders this to himself, tracing Roman’s fingertips on his skin with his mind.

He remembers his arousal pressing against his body and never in his life had such a primal need overtook him. It was almost cannibalistic, the way he’d wanted Roman’s teeth to sink into his skin in that second. But it wasn’t the right time, the right mood. Is there a right time or mood? He isn’t sure how this works at all, but he untangles their bodies to pull the shirt over his head because the room is suddenly far too warm (although the laptop plugged into the wall didn’t help either).

Roman’s hands.

He can’t stop thinking about it, how natural it felt to have him touch him. He wants to drown in that touch, he wants to scream and gasp for air like the sea swallowing him whole, he wants...he wants Roman. His hand slips up the other’s shirt and feels the way Roman sucks all the air into his lungs at the movement, but he just rests it there on his stomach.

“Can...Can I…?” Patton asks, finally, after a long moment, his hand finds the hem of Roman’s shirt and he tugs a little. The dancer smiles fondly but nervously and leans up just to tug it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Patton stares long and hard, his fingertips tracing invisible lines over the other man’s body. He wonders if his touch feels as wonderfully jarring to Roman as the other man does to him. Does it feel hot? Does it feel impossibly overpowering, like a drug? When Roman shivers just a little, Patton’s fingertips tracing his chest, he thinks he gets his answer.

His hand slides up his body and it maps out the curves of his being, feeling Roman breathe deeper and deeper the harder he presses, his fingertips curling over the chest of the other man. Roman has such a nice body, he’s caught glimpses of him changing before but this is different; he leans up and presses a soft kiss to his ribs.

The way Roman looks back at him, his eyes half-closed, lips parted and breathing like a shudder, like a gasp for air, like he’s shivering under the weight of the other man’s body. It makes him feel so powerful he aches, his whole body aches.

For a moment there’s just absence in Roman’s eyes as Patton’s lips press to his skin, savouring the taste. Patton’s eyes closed as his tongue and lips move over him, and then he opens them to take in the breathless expression on the other’s face. Roman’s hands come up to his back and sides, driving up his warm skin gently.

And then Patton has just had enough.

He surges up and kisses Roman so firmly that he feels the way the other heaves in a breath in surprise. He leans up, and Roman leans up too, the leg that had been laid over his body presses into the mattress on the other side. As the red-haired man leans up on his elbows, chasing the kiss, Patton slides down his body just so his thighs are resting over Roman’s hips.

The curly-haired man leans forward a little more, their hips pressing together. Their bodies fit together and slide so easily, Roman’s hand curls up Patton’s spine and feels the jolt of his shivering body to his touch. His hands are large to Patton, who has always felt so small that he’d crack if someone so much as touched his cheek too hard. His body is small, and Roman is tall and strong and his personality fills up rooms, but Patton realises finally just why he loves Roman’s touch.

He doesn’t feel small. For the first time in a long time, perhaps forever, he feels utterly unbreakable.

Roman’s hands touch his skin and he’s so full of fire, so full of desire, but despite that large personality and the body that’s usually a whole head above Patton’s, but he stares up at Patton, for the moment their lips part and he sees Roman, he stares up like Patton he’s devoted to him.

So he pushes Roman down gently, more guiding him than anything, and presses their lips together whilst their bodies move, slowly but surely. He can feel every drag of their bodies together and he’d never felt anything like it before; not the physical pleasure, but Roman’s body against his own makes his entire being filled with a whole different kind of heat.

His hands cage Roman’s head against the mattress, swallowing the sounds the other man makes as their tongues brush against each other. The sounds he makes.

“Are you okay?” Patton asks softly, pulling away from him a little so he can still feel the breath against his lips.

“I am, are you?” Roman replies, his voice scratchy and breaking.

“Never been better.” That’s not a lie either. Their lips meet again, briefly, before one of Roman’s hands part from Patton’s skin to tilt the other’s chin to the side with care, leaning up to press his lips to the other man’s jaw, kissing open-mouthed along his flushed skin. Patton makes a small noise that is somehow both surprise and relief, but it’s replaced by a soft moan when Roman reaches his neck and sucks. The sensation runs straight to his cock, his arousal bubbling inside him as Roman’s lips and tongue and then teeth work over his neck and collarbones, tasting his skin.

Patton pulls back again, and leans down to repay the favour. He sucks at the skin tentatively, gently at first but when he drags it between his teeth and Roman makes a noise that is almost a beg, almost a plea, most definitely a whimper, and he finds the sound so addictive, he repeats it again and again, marking his skin.

The look that meets his eyes as he leans back to catch his breath is not a way he’s ever seen Roman before; Roman is always so in control of himself, but he stares up at Patton like his entire life is currently in his hands. So Patton grinds his hips down with more force, their bodies rocking together. The skin of their stomachs and ribs graze to each other’s, creating friction in their movements, Roman’s hands drift up the length of his back and then back down again where they gently grip his hips.

He doesn’t remotely want to look away from Roman’s face, doesn’t want for a second to stop seeing the way pleasure is demonstrated in his dark green eyes, or the panting of air ghosting his lips.

Patton’s usual shyness and unsureness drained with the sheer desire to bring Roman pleasure. His face was determined, grounded through arousal and the most primal kind of want.

Roman’s shaky hands dip under the back of the waistband of his sweats. Roman’s sweats, on Patton’s body, trapped between their too-warm, too-clothed and not clothed enough bodies. He grinds up against the other, their cocks trapped between their bodies with their rocking movements. The bed creaks underneath them and the film is still playing in the background but all they can hear are the whimpers and moans.

When Roman’s end of the kiss ceases, Patton pulls back to ask if something’s wrong, but he doesn’t get the chance.

He’s never going to forget the way his name sounded being ripped from Roman’s throat as his entire body jolts against him, gasping and panting and whimpering. He almost gets shocked out of his own arousal as he looks down at the other man’s face, his head pressing back against the bedsheets and his face twisted with the most intense pleasure Patton has ever seen.

He wants to document the way Roman’s eyebrows draw in, furrowed, the way his eyes screwed shut so tightly it’s as if he’s avoiding some horrible (or beautiful) truth. His lips hanging open, dragging in all the air that he can’t remember how to take in, his body pressing up against him, his nails digging in against Patton’s skin, his cock twitching through the layers of their clothes, his whole existence some beautiful symphony that has Patton purely wonderstruck.

He did that to Roman.

And how powerful that makes him feel.

If only all those times he had felt small, too small, he could see how untouchable he feels in that moment.

The taller man relaxes into the bed, his chest heaving, he chokes on his saliva for a second as he tries to breathe normally again. A short laugh of disbelief ghosts his lips, peeling his eyes open to look up at Patton, who still looks like he’d been punched in the gut by some eye-opening secret. Roman leans up to kiss away the dumbstruck expression. “Your turn,” he mutters.

The next second Patton knows he’s on his back, Roman’s face buried against his neck and his thigh pressed between his own. His own cock is so sensitive and he feels like he’s been waiting for years somehow for this moment. He grinds up against Roman’s thigh, one hand knotting in that wonderful red hair and gripping much harder than he intended.

The overwhelming crash of his orgasm has Patton making so many noises he didn’t really know he could make. He knows he says Roman’s name, he knows he says it several times, he thinks he says thank you somewhere along the line as well, because politeness can never apparently go amiss.

He knows it’s the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt, rocking against Roman like some sort of animal, and he knows that thought alone gives him another jolt of arousal that his sensitivity definitely doesn’t agree with.

He knows afterwards he drags Roman into a kiss that’s so hard he promises himself his lips will bruise.

He feels like an animal starving for something. He’s wondering if there’s an amount of times he could taste Roman on his tongue before he couldn’t be satiated by it. He’s very aware of the fact he’s shivering. Then finally it all drains away, and he’s just still, breathless, a little out of it, and this underwear is not feeling comfortable with his come drying in it.

“Good?” Roman asks.

“I can’t breathe,” Patton replies, closing his eyes. “I think I’m having a heart attack.” Roman laughs, it’s loud and wonderful and any sinking sensation that Patton had even thought of having, gets shaken out of him as he opens his eyes to look at the other. But Roman doesn’t stop laughing, he kneels up to cover his mouth but he just can’t stop. And Patton starts laughing too, because he can’t believe that happened, and he can’t believe he’s...okay, he feels okay.

He thinks as long as Roman is around to laugh, he’ll be okay.

Saturday

Patton is okay. He’s fine.

Sunday

Patton is not okay.

#bmbdly

29 notes · View notes

mrs-hatake · 4 years

Text

i guess i’m just a playdate to you

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

Genre: angst

Warning: mentions of character deaths, open and ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2825

A/N: aaaanndd i’m back with more angst! this is inspired by a kakashi edit on tiktok by alyez_ and i LEGIT got all teary eyed after watching so i just HAD to make you guys sad as well lmao.

p.s: Y/E/C = Your/Eye/Color

p.s.s: not proof read

They say that time heals scars but the person who came up with that obviously never lost the person he loved and cherished the most for if they had, then they wouldn’t have said such a careless thing.

You were strongly reminded by that quote as you stood amongst hundreds of Konoha villagers in anticipation for Kakashi’s coronation as Konohakagure’s sixth Hokage.

Everyone had been surprised by the news but they were happy to have such a strong and responsible man as a leader, to no longer feel weak and unprotected but safe and even feared by other villages. Everyone was excited for this day.

But not you.

You were saddened by this.

Suddenly, those around you cheered and applauded as loudly as they can as Tsunade, the former Hokage, stepped onto the podium to address the villagers with a formal goodbye.

Your heart squeezed tightly once your eyes spotted Kakashi standing in the distance, face hidden behind his mask but his eye held no emotion in them.

There was a lump in your throat and you tried to swallow it away but your throat was as dry as sand paper, making it painful for you to swallow.

Tsunade’s words fell on deaf ears as tears filled the corner of your eyes and, without even knowing it, you were pushing yourself out of the crowed and somewhere far away from the coronation. The last thing you heard was the crowed screaming and cheering as Kakashi stepped onto the podium next to Tsunade.

You’ve been walking for hours. How much exactly, you weren’t sure. All that you knew was that your feet were moving for a very long time and soon you found yourself along the outskirts of the Naka River and the sun setting into the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of red and oranges, reminding you of that special day you don’t think you’d ever forget.

It was the day of Rin’s funeral and everyone had gathered to bid the young Kunoichi goodbye.

Although you were a regular civilain and didn’t understand the severity of the loss or the sacrifice she had made, you understood the tragedy the village was facing, especially your childhood neighbor Hatake Kakashi.

Kakashi had wandered off towards the end of the funeral and didn’t bother to stick around for the aftermath of the event.

Knowing how much Kakashi had suffered and the people he had lost in his younger days, you bit your lip in worry as you set off to find him.

Eventually, you found him sitting on a cliff overlooking Konoha, the sun was setting in the distance and it cast the village in an orange hue.

The young boy had his knees pulled up and pressed to his chest while his chin rested on his arms atop of them.

You were positive that there were no words that would comfort the boy so you did the next best thing, you sat next to him with your arm around him and listened to Kakashi as he silently cried.

A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek at the memory but you quickly wiped it away and continued in your aimless walk.

There were rustling sounds coming from one of the bushes in the distance that made you stop in your tracks, your heart beating loudly in your ears in anticipation. Holding your breath, you slowly inched forward and was startled when a small white rabbit jumped from within the bushes.

Your shoulders sagged and a shaky exhale escaped your lips. The small white rabbit stared at you in curiosity, it’s small red eyes blinking up at you.

You offered the harmless creature a small smile but it jumped off deeper into the forest. You watched after it and remembered an early morning similar to this encounter.

When Minato and Kushina died, the entirety of Konoha were in mourn. But no one experienced such a great loss like Kakashi. Right when things were finally starting to get normal and Kakashi had the opportunity to experience what having a loving family was like, his parental figures die, one in battle while the other after giving birth.

Your eyes never wandered off of Kakashi as you followed him through the woods. You knew that Kakashi would run off faster than the speed of light if he wanted to but you were glad that he was allowing you to be close to him. Though, that didn’t mean you didn’t worry over the boy.

He had just returned from evacuating the villagers into safety after the sudden attack of the Kyuubi when the former Hokage had informed Kakashi of Minato and Kushina’s deaths.

Kakashi had no reaction. His eyes didn’t well up with tears, he didn’t let out a cry of anguish, not even questioning the Hokage. He just accepted their deaths and walked out of the office.

You had run into him as you were helping your father clean up your mini market when the silver haired teenager walked by. Your eyes lit up and you were about to greet him with a bright smile but when you noticed his hunched form and his hands buried deep into his pockets, you knew there was something wrong.

You quickly ran off to catch up with Kakashi and when you were within reach, you griped his shoulder and turned him around to face you. The sight that greeted you shook you to your core. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears and his cheeks flushed a deep red color. His mask was soaking wet at the never ending tears cascading down his cheeks.

“They’re gone.”

Harshly, you rubbed your eyes to will the memory away.

You’ve known Kakashi since you were a little girl and for as long as you’ve known the silver haired man, he had always been stalked by tragedy. Wherever he went, whomever he had cherished and valued, tragedy would clutch its greedy fingers on them and snatch them away from Kakashi. It happened with his biological parents, his best friends and then with his parental figures.

It was too much for the teenager and it made perfect sense why he ended up joining ANBU.

“You can’t be serious.”

It had been two weeks since Minato and Kushina’s deaths. The village of Konoha continued on with their lives while the third Hokage returned to his rule.

It was early morning and you were manning the cashier at your father’s mini market. It was a slow and boring day with nothing to entertain you other than a trashy Shinobi magazine with a ‘Top 10 list of the Hottest Shinobi in Konoha.” clutched between your fingers.

It was so quiet that you were about to fall asleep when the door opened and the bells signaled the arrival of a new costumer. Your sleepy expression turned into one of joy as Kakashi walked in and stopped in front of you.

“Kakashi!” Your lips turned upwards into a bright smile, “What can I do for you?”

The teenager said nothing, his hands deep in his pockets, as his eyes scanned the shelves of chewing gum and cigarettes behind you.

“I’m joining ANBU.” He said simply. His voice so quiet that you were certain you misheard him.

You were a civilian and you didn’t know much about the Shinobi world but everyone knew of ANBU. Knew the excruciating and intense training Shinobi went through in order to be masterful and be higher in ranks.

Your smile faltered, “I’m sorry?”

Kakashi’s visible brown eye met yours, “Danzo recruited me to join ANBU.”

Before you could say anything else, Kakashi had turned around and exited the market, leaving you in a stunned daze.

Quickly, you snapped out it and followed after Kakashi.

“Oi, Kakashi! Wait!”

But the boy continued on walking.

Angered, you ran up to him and took hold of his shoulder and forced him around to face you, “What are you doing?”

Kakashi avoided eye contact and said nothing. Your angry aura and the hurt in your eyes ineffective to him.

“Are you seriously joining ANBU or are you playing some mean joke because it isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious.” His eye met yours and you were surprised by the harshness in it. Never in your life had Kakashi looked at you that way. It was so sudden and unfamiliar that you dropped your hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

“It’s dangerous.” You whispered and all that Kakashi could do was shrug his shoulders at you.

“I can handle it.” He said in his quiet, monotone voice.

“You could die!” Your voice grew louder, as if it could somehow explain to Kakashi how stupid joining ANBU was.

He said nothing though and slowly blinked at you.

When you had nothing else to say, Kakashi turned around and walked away.

Tears rapidly filled your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks as you watched Kakashi walk away from you and, possibly, never coming back.

You hadn’t seen nor spoken to Kakashi for the next twelve years after that day. Your entire routine was thrown out of loop as you lost sleep worrying over Kakashi and fearing for his life. You became so depressed that you couldn’t continue working in your father’s mini market and almost dropped out of school had it not been for Gai who visited you one night to inform you about Kakashi’s well-being. You remember breaking down in his arms, relief suffocating you at knowing that Kakashi was alive and well.

You didn’t get to see Kakashi until your second year as an elementary school teacher for the civilian children of Konoha. It happened by accident really. You were tidying up the class and preparing for the day’s lesson plan when you had spotted the taller and stronger looking man through the window.

His face was still hidden behind his mask and his right eye was still hidden from sight. He was followed by three children who all had different hair colors; one girl had long pink hair while the two other boys had blonde and black hairs respectively.

His appearance stunned you into silence and you would’ve left the classroom to follow after the man had it not been for your students walking in and announcing their presence.

The second time you saw Kakashi was another coincidence. School had been let out early and you didn’t feel like going home just eat. Instead, you went to Ichiraku’s Ramen shop for lunch.

“I’ll be sure to drop by again!” You called over your shoulders, a melodic chuckle escaping your lips, when you suddenly bumped into someone.

Large hands strongly gripped onto your shoulders to balance your footing and to prevent you from falling, “I’m sorry! I should’ve wa-”

Brown eye met Y/E/C in a startled yet dumfounded expression.

“-tch where I’m going.” You trailed off.

Seeing Kakashi up close was messing up with your head and your heart was beating so loud you feared that it would stop.

“It’s fine.” His voice was deeper but it still had the quietness in it. Vaguely, you remembered Kakashi’s father having a similar tone of voice.

“Hurry up, Kakashi! You’re paying!” The shouts of a blonde boy sitting on the barstool interrupted your thoughts and the two of you jumped back.

“I should go.” Kakashi stated and rubbed the back his neck.

All you could do was nod your head and watch him walk into the ramen shop. Something deep inside of you told you that won’t be the last time you’d run into the most powerful Shinobi and you could feel a small smile crawl its way across your lips in anticipation.

Things between you and Kakashi were great. Your friendship rekindled and your bond grew stronger than ever. However, Kakashi still kept his distance. And, as an adult and having heard of the risks of the Shinobi lifestyle, you understood and accepted Kakashi’s cautions, especially knowing what kind of childhood he suffered.

And when tragedy struck again with one of his students (you eventually learn as Sasuke) took off with a dangerous rouge Shinobi, you were there for Kakashi.

You were even there when Naruto left Konoha to train with his mentor and Sakura interning for Tsunade, and comforted Kakashi during his loneliness.

And right before the beginning of the Fourth Great War where Kakashi had snuck into your apartment and begged for you to stay safe and wait for him, his brown eye wet with unshed tears, you did as your told and sealed the promise with a kiss to the cheek.

So it made no sense for Kakashi to return to apartment one day after the Great War with his expression resembling the very same one when he had told you he was joining ANBU.

You already knew Kakashi was going to say something you weren’t going to like by that expression alone and you were already shaking your head ‘no’ before he could even say anything else.

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“No!” You shut your eyes tight, not wanting for whatever it was Kakashi was going to say to come true.

You heard him deeply sigh through his nose and soon felt his strong arms wrap around you, “I’m sorry.” He whispered softly into your ears, in hopes to calm you down, “But I’ve been chosen and they need m-”

But you didn’t want to hear what Kakashi was saying so you walked away from his embrace, “I need you!” You spat harshly, tear streaks on your cheeks.

“I was there for you. During everything, not out of obligation but out of love and you left me to join ANBU. That broke my heart, Kakashi, did you know that?”

The silver haired man didn’t. He said nothing as he watched you run your hand through your locks of hair, making it appear messier than its usual kept style.

“I was alone and depressed. I was scared that i would never see you again.” Teary Y/E/C met his briefly before looking away, “And when I finally moved on and things became normal, you’re back in my life as if nothing happened.” You chuckled humorously.

“And I was there for you when your kids left, I was there for you when literally died, even if only for a couple of minutes, and I waited for you during the war. And when it was finally over, when I thought that we’d finally live our lives like everyone else and finally be together, you want to throw all of that to be a Hokage!”

You were panting and your eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. The tears stopped falling but your cheeks were still wet. “I would be fine if you said you’re going to be Hokage and I could be there for you a-as a friend - maybe something even more if you’ve ever felt that way towards me - but you tell me that you can no longer see me.”

It wasn’t meant as a question, though Kakashi answered nonetheless, “To keep you saf-”

“I don’t give a shit!”

Silence met your ears and once you were able to calm down, You had asked Kakashi to leave.

That was a week ago and you haven’t seen Kakashi until earlier today.

When your feet halted their movements, blood staining the soles of your feet and your toes in pain, you finally stopped walking at the end of Naka river.

The sun had completely set and the forest was eerily quiet. You weren’t sure how far away from home you were though, you didn’t care. You just wanted to be as far away from the ceremony as possible.

Sitting down on the grass, you wondered how differently your life could’ve been if you had run into Kakashi outside of the ramen shop. Would you have fallen in love with a civilian that you’d eventually marry? You’d probably have at least two of his kids by now running around your tiny little home. Would you have let them join the Academy if they had asked you to? Probably not.

Maybe you and Kakashi were never meant to be. Your love from your childhood well into your adulthood could’ve been one sided after all. Though, there were moments where you believed Kakashi loved you as much as you did. Maybe not during his childhood but you’ve seen it in his adulthood. The way he’d look at you when you thought you weren’t looking, those brief touches and him always visiting you after returning from a dangerous mission. You were positive that he loved you when Kakashi had been to your apartment and told you to stay safe before the Great War all those months ago.

Exhaustion settled into you and your eyes soon grew droopy. Resting against a tree, you entertained your mind of thoughts of Kakashi retiring from the Shinobi life and spending the rest of his days with you as you welcomed the cold embrace of sleep.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi scenario #hatake kakashi scenario

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kuriquinn · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Original Prompt by: @toscafan

"Olá. Você poderia escrever uma fic onde após Sasuke voltar para a vila, Sakura vai em uma missão e é gravemente ferida. Então Sasuke percebe que seus sentimentos por ela cresceram quando ele a vê ferida no hospital. Talvez com um pouco de Naruto preocupado também. Eu imagino isso entre o período que Sasuke volta para Konoha e antes de eles partirem juntos em suas viagens. Suas histórias são maravilhosas :) eu sinto muito não escrever em inglês :( “

[Roughly: Hello, Could you write a fic where after Sasuke returns to the village, Sakura goes on a mission and is seriously injured. Then Sasuke realises that his feelings for her have grown when he sees her injured in the hospital. Maybe with a bit of Naruto worried too. I imagine it between the time Sasuke returns to Konoha and before they leave together on their travels.]

Author’s Note: As promised during Evil Author Day, I am trying to finish some of my WIPs. I actually managed to finish this one (Prompt # 4), which is a total miracle given how I’ve been feeling lately. And the fact I think this one is like...two years old. So yeah, major backlog of stuff that needs writing. Enjoy!

Beta Reader: None but me and my editing software :)

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⁂ ⁂ ⁂

It shouldn’t have happened.

The words repeat themselves on a loop in Sasuke’s head, like a record player tossed asunder, skipping unerringly back over the same line in a song. In every momentary pause where the words begin to repeat, there is a breath, an extended moment of tension where his chest feels tighter and tighter.

She hasn’t been on active duty rosters since the war. Her field is medicine, not defense or combat or infiltration, and as strong and talented as Haruno Sakura is, she’s still human and prone to mistakes. Shinobi work isn’t like riding a bike. You have to continue to exercise your particular skillset daily, or mistakes can be made, leading to mishaps, leading to—

It shouldn’t have happened.

サスサク

When the call came in for a relief-force of medicnin, it wasn’t unusual. War or no, there are still major medical emergencies and disasters. In this case, reports reached Konoha of an earthquake 350 miles away. Though the village had barely experienced a tremor, the quake had apparently devastated the shepherding community living at the base of the mountain.

As a rule, Sakura should have stayed behind to coordinate everything from the village; with Tsunade on another of her gambling jaunts, she was the most senior healer.

But the devastated town was without its own medical corps, and the number of injured was overwhelming. Every able pair of hands was needed and naturally, Sakura volunteered herself for the mission.

“I can do the work of a dozen medics and they might need someone to lift debris,” she informed the Sixth Hokage when he seemed likely to protest. “I also trained the latest group of emergency medics going out there; they’re still relatively untested in the field. Better they take their orders from me than some random jounin that you assign.”

Kakashi knew better than to argue with his former student, but he was reluctant. For some reason, he was uneasy. There was little reason for it that he could discern, but after all his years as a shinobi, he had learned to heed his instincts.

“Please, Lord Sixth, there are many large families there, with children.”

Against that—with no concrete reason to give—he could not say no.

“Do you need anyone else beyond the emergency medics?”

“Any civilians with basic first aid training,” Sakura replied, pleased at the response. “Whichever doctors and staff can be spared. The general surgeons, perhaps, but no one with specialized training or technique that we would supper from losing.”

Kakashi nodded and made a gesture she recognized to mean an official granting of the request.

“Ideally, you’d send Naruto as well. He could use the Nine-Tails chakra to mass-heal the simplest injuries. It would make triage a lot faster.”

“That’s not in my power. I’m already on thin ice with the Elders for my executive order to pardon Sasuke. I doubt they’ll want him leaving the village any time soon.”

Sakura scowled.

Under normal circumstances she would argue—she had long ago made clear her dislike and distrust for the village Elders—but every minute spent arguing was wasting crucial time.

“Can you try to convince them?” she asked as she turned to leave the office. “We should be sending out best for this.”

“We already are,” Kakashi said with ease, and there was a smile in his eyes. The one Sakura returned was only a little strained, mind already on her future patients.

サスサク

Sasuke was on a short, probationary mission at the time, in the complete opposite direction from the disaster zone. He didn’t even hear about the earthquake until two days later.

While handing his mission report to Kakashi, he may have been somewhat surprised to learn Sakura would not be around to greet him the way she usually did—and Kakashi’s eyes had a far too knowing gleam in them when he mentioned it—but it never occurred to Sasuke that she would be in any kind of danger.

At least, nothing she wasn’t capable of handling for herself.

For those two days, Sasuke carried out his usual routine, slowly acclimating to being back in service to the village. It still wasn’t his preference to be around so many people, and there was a constant sense of discomfort that lingered at the back of his mind. The sensation of eyes on him from all over, ANBU and civilian alike, heavy with judgement and fear. The only time that feeling abated, even for just a little, was when he was around Sakura, Naruto or Kakashi.

Still, he wasn’t willing or able to seek any of them out. They all have busy lives, and he earned that judgement and fear from the village. It would be an easy feat to leave and never return, but he didn’t deserve easy. Remaining here was part of his punishment, and so he would learn to live with it.

At home, when the constant surveillance became too much, he went to an empty training ground and put himself through various sword forms or engage in other exercises. In two years, he’s grown used to living and fighting with only one arm, but it’s the constant practice that keeps him lethal.

On the morning of the third day he is going through one of his complex sword kata in the training ground where Kakashi made them genin. He tells himself it’s coincidence and not sentimentality that brought him here this morning, even as the three posts stand vigil over his training like towers of memory.

Today he is working only on form and movement, not using any techniques requiring chakra, just trying to sharpen his movements into their usual lethal grace.

As he uncoils from a low final arc of his sword, returning to a resting position, there is a sudden cracking noise; his gaze snaps toward it, and he watches as—apropos of nothing—the wooden post to his far right splits right down the middle.

Sasuke immediately goes still, focussing his awareness around himself and the area, scanning for danger. There is no one in this place foolish enough to try something—even if he wasn’t lethal on his own, the ANBU escorts hidden in the shadows would have been alerted.

The wind continues meander, sending leaves rustling; the sound of birds and the distant crash of the river do not change. There is not threat that he can detect, nothing but a growing sense of foreboding.

And then the ground begins to shake.

As far as earthquakes go, it’s not the worst he’s experienced. He has no problem remaining on his feat as the ground roils and trembles. Even the trees surrounding him show no sign of shuddering.

It’s small and innocuous, nothing on the same level as the one Sakura was sent to help with.

His eyes drift, lingering on the cracked post.

Memory conjures an image of a gawky twelve year old with too-long-to-be-practical hair and luminous green eyes betraying strain and discomfort as she feeds their third teammate tied to the middle post.

It’s probably nothing.

But for some reason his focus on his exercises vanishes, replaced instead with a growing disquiet in the pit of his stomach.

It only grows with every moment as he returns to the village proper and, without knowing why, makes a beeline for Hokage Tower. All around him, people talk excitedly about the tremor, laughing it off and telling one another what they were doing when they noticed it. It’s just a facet of their day, something that—while uncommon—is not dangerous enough to merit panic.

So why does he suddenly feel uneasy?

サスサク

Sasuke arrives at the Tower at the same time as Naruto, a face which causes his inexplicable agitation to ratchet immediately higher, especially given his friend’s uncharacteristic frown and the absence of his usual joking greeting.

Without exchanging words, they enter Kakashi’s office and are immediately treated to the sight of their former instructor pacing by the window, a frown drawing his brows together. The coiled cord of the telephone stretches and relaxes with his back-and-forth movements. It’s so in contrast to his usual demeanor—lazily slouched in his chair—that Sasuke’s spine stiffens in response.

Kakashi eventually hangs up the phone and faces his students.

“There was a second earthquake,” he tells them gravely. “Right next to the refugee camp we set up. According to reports, about 180 million tons of mountainside have crumble down onto the camp. They don’t know if there are any survivors.”

Sasuke’s fist clenches and Naruto’s eyes blink into slits as he activates his senjutsu.

“I can’t sense Sakura’s chakra,” he says, a panicked note in his voice. “Usually I get a definite flicker from her, even at this distance…”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sasuke tells him. “She masks her chakra when she’s on medical missions to avoid presenting a target.”

He’s not sure how he knows this, since he can’t recall if she mentioned any such practice in their conversations since he’s been back, yet he knows it to be true. Still, this knowledge brings no comfort with it, because the uncomfortable pit in his stomach remains.

“She would be healing everyone after a huge disaster like that,” Naruto protests. “I’d definitely sense that. But I can’t.”

Which, admittedly, worries Sasuke a little despite his unshakable faith in Sakura’s abilities.

Naruto turns to Kakashi, his shoulders squared as if in preparation for a fight. “I’m going to check on her. Even if she’s fine, they’ll need help digging survivors out. I can definitely help with that.”

“Fine,” Kakashi says. The fact he doesn’t argue or mention the concerns of the Elders is telling. “If you leave now, you should get there within—”

Sasuke doesn’t stay to listen.

He’s already climbing the stairs to the roof where there is more open space.

He is by no means an expert at using his Rinnegan yet—every day heralds a new ability or application—but he has more or less figured out how to travel between far distant locations instantly.

“Oi! Sasuke! Wait up!” Naruto shouts from behind as Sasuke focusses himself on creating a pathway. He glanced the coordinates he needs on the papers covering Kakashi’s desk, knows where he’s supposed to go—

The space in front of him crackles, displacing the air, and then rips open, forming a portal of swirling violet energy. On the other side, he can discern a giant wall of rubble.

He wastes no time slipping through, trusting Naruto to follow directly behind him.

サスサク

The sight before them is a grim one.

Sasuke hasn’t seen destruction on this scale since the war.

Mountains loom around them, the closest one looking misshapen due to the giant shelf that has vanished as if scraped off with a giant chisel. Its remnants spill out in front of it, creating a smaller mountain of churned earth and rock, uprooted trees and other debris.

People gather around, civilian and shinobi alike, covered in dust and digging frantically at the rubble. Likely the lucky few who were far enough away when the second quake hit to avoid the harm.

There are almost no Konohanin, medicnin or otherwise, that he can see, suggesting a grim truth to him: they are all underneath the remains of the mountain. Dead, most likely, or trapped and dying as the seconds pass.

But where is Sakura?

She could survive being buried under such weight, and should have dug her way out by now. Stone and rock are like cottage cheese to her strong fists.

“Naruto!”

The two newcomers glance up as a Konohanin scrambles toward them. As he gets closer, Sasuke recognizes him as the kid Sakura has taken on as an assistant. Ando something or other.

“We need help!” the kid gasps when he arrives in front of them, dust-covered and exhausted. “We can’t shift the earth using doton because it could hurt the people underneath.”

The jinchuriki is already forming the signs to summon up shadow clones. If this has to b cleared by hand, he’s the best man for the job. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

“We’ll get through this without a problem!”

“Believe it!”

The clones are already spreading out across the landscape, like a sea of orange washing over the scene.

Sasuke stares down at the boy. “Where is Sakura?”

Ando goes pale beneath the fine layer of dust, eyes pained. “When the earthquake stared, she was trying to get everyone in the medical tents to safety. When she realized she couldn’t, she tried to create barriers to stop the worst of the damage using doton. But it was coming on too fast, and so she tried to slow down the avalanche—"

“Of course she did,” Sasuke murmurs to himself, teeth gritted.

“—but it wasn’t enough! The last I saw, she was destroying the rocks coming at her, but then she was buried.”

“And where were you in all this?”

There’s an accusation in his words that has made stronger men tremble, but Ando merely shudders and clenches his fists. No shrinking violets working with Sakura, that’s for sure.

“I was on water duty. The rivers here were all polluted by the first quake, and so I had to travel far. I saw it all from that cliff up there and hurried down here as fast as I could to help, but…”

He gestures ineffectively, clearly not knowing where to start.

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells all of a sudden, and Sasuke’s head whips toward where he is helping a woman with shredded clothing to climb from the rubble. She is remarkably stable on her feet, considering the situation, and Sasuke understands a moment later when he sees the white creature attached to her shoulder.

“Lady Katsuyu!” Ando cries and hurries over, followed closely by SAsuke.

“Where’ Sakura?” Naruto demands as the younger boy helps the quake victim to sit down. “Is she okay?”

“She’s at the very bottom,” Katsuyu says fretfully. “There’s an airpocket and she’ll still have air for a little while, but she’s gravely injured. Her entire lower body is crushed.” Sasuke’s heart constricts painfully. “I tried to help, but she insisted I attach myself to all the refugees, to keep them alive until help arrives. I fear she won’t be able to keep it up very long. Even my healing can’t save the people buried so long without oxygen.”

“Little fool,” Sasuke growls, the viciousness of the words surprising him more than the situation. Of course she’s more worried about the survival of her patients and the others instead of herself.

“We’re getting her out,” Naruto declares, summoning more clones. “We’ll get her and everyone else out!”

And Sasuke finds himself hoping this is another miracle that his friend’s mere presence and stubbornness will help pull off.

サスサク

The task is arduous and time consuming.

Sasuke is bizarrely conscious of the speed at which the time passes—too fast. They continue dragging survivors out from beneath the rubble—all unharmed, but looking more and more shambled as the rescue efforts reach deeper into the rubble. Every so often, there is a red glow, and the unearth another person being Naruto has managed to sense and enfold in his healing chakra cloak.

Sasuke uses his snake summons for the first time in years, sending them from his sleeve to slither around and crush rocks blocking their path. He digs one-handed while Naruto and the clones make quick work of their chosen debris fields.

They have yet to find Sakura, or a person that as died of their injuries; all of them so far have had a miniature clone of Lady Katsuyu attached somewhere on their bodies.

Yet he can’t sense Sakura.

“Her chakra signature is everywhere,” he frets. “She’s channelling it through Katsuyu to keep everyone alone. I can’t get a proper read on her.”

“And you won’t,” Lady Katsuyu says in a tremulous tone. “The byakugou has disengaged—her strength has finally run out.” She shudders. “We’re too far away. There’s no way we’ll make it to her in time. And I can only linger here a few minutes longer without her sustaining me.”

“We’ll make it!” Naruto growls, tone and eyes harsh like that of a cornered fox. There’s a panic there, belying his words, because he clearly has no idea how they’re going to do that.

It’s that panic more than anything so far that makes Sasuke’s guts roil and a sickening nausea of fear well up within him. Because Naruto never gives up, he always has hope and he always has some kind of harebrained plan to fix a bad situation.

And if he doesn’t have one in this case, it means Sakura’s fate is sealed.

Which—

No.

“You have a clone with Sakura now?” he asks Katsuyu.

“O-of course,” the snail replies, almost surprised at being addressed so directly.

“You can share your chakra between one another. Can you share the chakra of someone else the same way?”

Naruto’s eyes widen as he catches on. “Yes! If I share my chakra with you and your clone, I’ll able to sense where your clone is and we can find Sakura faster.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Lady Satsuyu replies mournfully. “And besides, I can’t share your chakra, Naruto-kun. The chakra of biju is too volatile, and unless a blood contract has been made, like yours with the toads, it would become too volatile.”

“You wouldn’t need a contract with me,” Sasuke says. “My chakra is entirely my own.”

The slug’s head bobs to one side in consideration, and then she makes a noise of assent. “We can try.”

Sasuke holds out his hand, allowing Lady Katsuyu to inch closer, pressing herself up against his palm. There’s a beat of tense silence as they both concentrate, Sasuke infusing a burst of chakra in the tiny creature’s body.

She shudders from the force of it, her energy signature changing to a mixture of her own and his.

“It’s done,” she says, and he can feel a tiny twinge in his senses calling from far beneath the crumbled mountain.

Sasuke nods and begins to back away from the rubble. “Get beneath her.”

“I don’t understand,” Ando is saying. “How will that be any different from before? Lady Katsuyu was already able to direct us to Sakura.”

“He’s not just looking for Sakura’s location,” Naruto says with a grim smile. “He needs to know exactly where she is.”

“But why—?”

Sasuke tunes out the useless questions as he positions himself somewhere with a decent amount of clearance all around him. Bracing himself—he’s never tried this particular gambit before—he activates the Sharingan and reaches deep within his chakra reserves.

Instantly, violent purple energy manifests, bones and muscle and armor, as Susanoo encompasses him all around. The burning, ripping pain of it has almost become distant by now, and he focusses past it, still holding onto that shred of his chakra beckoning him from wherever Sakura is.

He turns his head, concentrating on the space in front of Susanoo’s empty right hand and activates the Rinnegan.

A portal twists into being from thin air, and Sasuke hardly waits before raising Susanoo’s hand and pressing the limb through the portal. He can distantly feel the weight of her against the flat of the hand as it materializes directly beneath her body, and then pulls her backward, shutting the portal immediately after extracting her to ensure none of the rubble baring down on her might follow.

As gentle as he can, Sasuke lays Sakura down upon the ground, Susanoo vanishing as her body touches the earth.

サスサク

Everyone is already kneeling around her when Sasuke touches back down, the chakra giant vanishing once more. Lady Katsuyu vanishes, no longer having Sakura’s strength to draw on, and Naruto is snapping something at Ando, probably to get help.

All of it washes over Sasuke in a meaningless, soundless wave as his eyes fall upon Sakura. His lungs tighten as he takes in her broken body.

Her legs are bruised and battered, crushed inward in some places and bones poking out of other places; it’s the same for her hips and several ribs. Her eyes are open and staring, a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth and nose.

The sight is terrifying.

For a short yet eternal moment he is back in the streets of the Uchiha district, surrounded by the bodies of his family. Just as he was then, he is frozen now—inutile and incapable of doing anything.

“Naruto…” he begins, not knowing exactly what he’s trying to ask.

“This is bad,” Naruto says, voice strained. His eyes are slits once more, his sage mode active as a red film covers Sakura’s body. “I can heal the big stuff, but so much has been pulverized…” He swallows as if in physical pain; Sasuke knows the feeling. “She needs someone that can do surgery at the microlevel. If I heal her right now, like this, I could do a lot more harm then good.”

It’s a measure of how far Naruto’s come that he recognizes this, that he knows not to simply ram through his power and hope it helps.

Sasuke doesn’t know what will help now.

Scenarios and plans speed through a mind more suited for battle tactics than life-saving measures, as he tries to think of any way that he can help her and wishing for the first time in a long time that Karin were here.

Wishing he had ever taken the time to learn more about the healing arts than how to kill.

All the while, the sight of Sakura’s shattered limbs taunting him as her blood seeps into the sand.

Sasuke blinks.

Sand.

The memory hits him out of nowhere, the way many of his recollections from before do. Waking in a hospital, distantly hearing people talking about a fight—sand versus strength.

“Tsunade,” Sasuke says, remembering how the Fifth Hokage dealt with something similar. Right around the time she healed his mind from Itachi’s merciless assault on it, she saved Rock Lee from a life of paralysis.

Naruto is frowning, once again on the same wavelength as him. “No one knows where she is.”

“I’ll find her. Get Sakura back to Konoha—”

“No…”

Both of them jump at the pained, feeble voice and glance down.

Sakura’s eyes are closed now, clenched as tight as her jaw when she speaks through gritted teeth. “There are still…people…” She tries to raise a hand, gesture toward the rubble. “Naruto…stay and…help…”

“Sakura, no!” he snaps. “You’re in a mess right now, I need to keep you going until—”

“…Too much…damage…wasting your…chakra…”

“Sakura,” Sasuke says tersely, and her eyes shoot open toward him. Awareness flickers behind green irises, along with some surprise, as if she didn’t realize or expect him to be there.

“Sasu…ke…”

He shivers.

There has never been a time in his life when he and Sakura haven’t been aware of the presence of the other. The fact she didn’t notice him is telling in the severity of her injury…as is her not expecting him to be by her side.

After all, when has he ever been?

What has he ever done for her?

“We have to get her out of here,” Naruto says. “Do you have enough strength for another portal?”

Sasuke nods, though he isn’t sure; he’s used his abilities twice now in quick succession. But for Sakura, he’ll try.

The space beside them rips open, once more opening onto the familiar rooftops of Konoha as seen from Hokage Tower. All they need to do is step through, and so Naruto goes to pick Sakura up, only for her to scream in sudden sharp agony.

Sasuke’s heart stutters, his concentration wavering slightly, allowing the portal to shrink and contract worryingly.

“She’s too hurt,” Naruto says, panicked. “We need to keep her on her back or…I might sever something important.”

There are no stretchers here, no immobilizing aids to move her. If he had any idea where Tsunade Senju was, he’d seek her out and return her here instantly, but he doesn’t have that time and neither does Sakura.

“I’ll bring her,” Sasuke says.

“But—”

“You stay here. Help the survivors.”

There’s something on his face that keeps Naruto from arguing further, but Sasuke is no longer paying attention. Once again, he centers himself, trying to divide his power between the portal and call up Susanoo in just the right manner.

It takes searing concentration to manifest Susanoo’s hand in the space between Sakura’s body and the ground, letting the chakra fill in beneath her and keep her steady and supine.

Sakura’s eyes are wide, trained on him in something like desperation, before they roll back and she lapses into unconsciousness.

Sasuke’s lungs constrict, but he forces himself to work through it, to slide Susanoo’s hand straight through the portal until Sakura is no longer lying among the debris of the dead but in the safety of their village.

Sweat breaks out across his forehead and the back of his neck, and he tastes blood in his mouth, but he manages to retract the chakra within him. He’s about to step through when—

“Wait!”

He grits his teeth, eyes darting back to the kid—Ando—who has returned.

“Let me come too,” he says. “I can keep her stable, or—or go get someone from the hospital, or—”

“Go!” Sasuke snarls, half from effort and half from irritation the boy is taking up valuable seconds.

A terrified expression breaks over Ando’s face for a moment, before he throws himself headlong through the portal.

“Find Tsunade,” Sasuke tells Naruto as he follows. He doesn’t have to hear the response to know he will.

サスサク

He has no right to be here.

The intensive care wing of Konoha’s hospital is a flurry of movement as doctors and nurses and medic-nin rush in and out of the surgery where they are working on Sakura. He lingers outside the doors, his own self-recrimination keeping him out here more than the ‘Staff Only’ sign on the door.

He doesn’t deserve to be here, to hear news of her condition. He left—he’s always leaving—and she’s always waiting. She’s always here and he realizes with a sudden disbelief that somehow, somewhere along the line something in him has taken that for granted.

Ever since the War, ever since watching her blossom into her abilities and to demonstrate power that makes her neigh indestructible, he’s been thinking of her as if she is. As if she’s a constant that will never change, that will always exist.

Like she’s immortal.

Except she’s not, she can die like anyone else.

It’s something taken for granted in their line of work, but medic-nin die the same as anyone else in the service. And Sakura would be the first to insist she is no more important than anyone else, that her life is the same value as any of their comrades. He knows if given the choice she’d sacrifice that same life without any regret—hell, he watched her try to do just that today.

That knowledge—and the reality of what is happening behind that door in front of him, the image of the light in her eyes dying—steals his breath.

Will that be his last memory of her? A broken body pulled from a wreckage?

Very real terror grips him then, something he hasn’t felt in years. A close, clawing sensation and his lungs constricting as something jagged forms in his throat. Nightmares of blood in the streets, blood in his hands and the rush of a waterfall in the background, the chirping of lightning in his ears—

“Sasuke.”

His head jerks up, the world around him returning, senses no longer going haywire to stave off the incoming panic.

Kakashi is standing beside him—when did he get here?—eyes somber. There’s a beat before he reaches out, hesitant, and lays a hand on his shoulder.

It’s as if a current is going through him, memories from long ago, that same hand on his shoulder. It’s the first time Kakashi has reached out to him since he left Konoha as a child.

“I’ve had news from Naruto,” his former instructor continues. “He’s found Tsunade.”

And somehow with those three words, every bit of tension in Sasuke’s body evaporates. He realizes he hasn’t been breathing and tries his best not to gulp for air, forces himself to inhale slowly through his nose, to not lose his composure.

Kakashi, of course, is not fooled. “Sakura will be alright. She’s strong.”

Sasuke wants to reply that he knows, he’s always known, but his tongue is still frozen. Instead, he returns his gaze upon the door, trying to sense what is happening beyond it.

He feels Kakashi remove his hand, but the man’s intense stare remains on him.

“I should go,” he eventually manages to say. Yet his legs refuse to move.

“You should stay. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re exactly where she needs you to be.”

Sasuke’s protest dies before it was truly born, and he goes back to trying to breath. Inhale and hold; exhale and repeat. It doesn’t matter what he needs or wants, after all.

Why?

Sakura is Sakura. Yes, they have always had a connection, a bond, but it’s the same connection he’s had with the rest of his former squad. You can’t go on missions or into battle with one another without developing a synchronicity. Even if the connections are different.

With Kakashi it’s the kindred spirit of someone who has lost everything almost the same as he has, with Naruto it’s a bond that can never be replicated for the most complicated of cosmic reasons.

And yet…with Sakura, there’s something different there.

He always thought it was nostalgia, the last lingering remnants of a weak child desperate for whatever scrap of affection was offered to him after losing his parents. Every moment he’s ever spent with her, he pretended like it didn’t affect him at all; and yet, there was always that eagerness he had to tamp down, wanting to see the smile on her face because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

A smile he missed in the years training with Orochimaru, then wandering the world in penance. He knows she’s had feelings for him since they were children, and has has spent most of his last years hoping against hope that she’ll let him go and move on.

That she’ll find someone else, someone worthy of her, someone who will keep her safe and guard her heart against pain. Because that’s all he can give her is pain; tht, and a soul that will never completely heal.

Except it wont matter, will it, if she dies?

She’ll be gone, and he’ll be empty again. No matter where he goes, he’s always known that somewhere, Sakura is out there, keeping him in her heart. He knows that even if she does find another, there will always be a part of her that thinks of him, just like he will always have a part of him that thinks of her.

But if she dies…if she doesn’t make it through this…

Suddenly he can see it.

Years stretch out in front of him, bleak and empty and gray. Visits to a gravestone of a life that could have been. Regrets and pain and an endless void of existing instead of living.

More of everything he endured as a child, only this time, without the tiny ray of sunlight that Sakura willingly gave him.

And suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t want that.

A world without Sakura in it, is not one that he wants to be a part of.

He wants her—needs her—to be happy. And if her happiness is him…if he could ensure that happiness somehow…

Well, he’ll do whatever it takes.

Sasuke takes a shuddering breath at the realization.

It feels sudden, like a switch has been flipped with realization, and yet at the same time he knows it has always been this way.

He’s in love with Sakura.

The world returns then in sharp focus, ignorant to the realizations he’s just made. Kakashi is still eyeing him with concern. Perhaps wondering if he’s going to have to talk him out of leaving the hospital, even though Sasuke knows that he’s not going anywhere until he can watch her open her eyes again.

Until she smiles at him again.

Maybe not even then.

“I’ll wait for her then,” he says, shaken but still somehow managing to control the timbre of his voice. He leans against the wall, eyes once more resting on the door in expectation.

I’ll wait for her forever.

終わり

________________________________________________________________

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn't something you're comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

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#sasusaku #ssm18 #ssm18day14 #prompt: wait for me #fanfic prompts/requests #kuriquinn #one-shot #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #drama #romance #realizations

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theuniversitychallengereview · 3 years

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UC 50.35 - Imperial vs Warwick

This is episode thirty five of this years University Challenge. Almost exactly one year ago, on 23rd March 2020, the UK was plunged into what we thought would be its only lockdown. Instead it was the first of going on three, four? Where does a lockdown end and a Tier 4 start? Manchester, where I live, has basically been in lockdown for most of the twelve months since then, and who knows how much longer this one is going to actually last.

There is a peculiar magic to a revolution of the sun, with the circularity giving meaning to the meaningless marker of three hundred and sixty five days. Somehow it feels so much more momentous that a year will have passed than that a day less than a year has passed. You remember what you were doing as the lockdown was announced, where you watched Boris make his serious address from. The tingles of fear, and maybe even guilty nervous excitement made me restless. No one knew what any of it meant. So many things have changed since then, but in some ways we are exactly where we were. Stuck inside, nowhere to go, with no concept of when life will return to normal.

There was also a University Challenge match on the 23rd March. I don’t know if I watched it on the day. Probably not. I wrote about it six days later, by which point I was working from home with a pile of books stacked underneath my laptop acting as a makeshift stand. There is something strange about being able to read exactly what I was thinking at the time everything was starting. The following paragraphs are taken directly from that blog, and it still feels like we are in the same limbo state.

What is going on? When I wrote the last blog it was pretty clear that we were in a dire situation, but the inaction of the Government left it feeling like we were in some kind of limbo state, just waiting for the disaster to hit us. But then action was taken. Lockdown.

We now know exactly what we have to do (I was going to list the ‘Stay Home’ instructions here, but if you’re getting your lockdown lowdown from a University Challenge blog then frankly there’s no hope for you anyway), but it still feels really surreal. You’ve never done a home workout in your life, but you’ve done two in the past three days. People say ‘social distancing’ as if its always been a well-known term that was commonly used in daily life. There are never any beans (screw your toilet paper shortages, its the beans that really matter).

We’re still in limbo, really, because we have no idea how long this is going to last. And we’re still waiting for the disaster to hit, because the worst of it hasn’t yet, and the lockdown won’t start properly helping for a few weeks. So what do we do? What can we do? You feel like you want to be distracted from all that is going on, but also to be clued up to the eyeballs with the latest news.

So we do what we can. We stay inside. We call our friends and family and play that stupid ‘chips and guac’ game on Houseparty. We take solace in books, or films, or TV…

As I did a year ago, I’ll try and distract you all (and myself too), with some words about a television quiz show. Let’s not bother with the rules, here’s your first starter for ten...

Imperial and Warwick have already played each other in this years tournament, with the Avonsiders coming out convincing winners, 200 to 120. They then beat another of the semi finalists, Magdalene, Cambridge, by 200 to 160. Fans of a nice round number, it seems.

But I wouldn’t write Imperial off. They followed up their loss to Warwick with magnificent wins over King’s and Durham. Their skipper Kohn is the most in-form player left in the competition, and has averaged more than six starters a game.

Having lost their first round match to Strathclyde, Imperial were given a reprieve via the high-scoring loser play-offs, and boy did they take advantage of it. This coincided with the gap in filming caused by Covid, and Kohn used the extra time to train intensely - think Stallone in Rocky but its just a guy furiously reading (with the same music playing, obviously).

Warwick, meanwhile, have had a relatively smooth path to the last four, winning by an average of 92.5 points. However, if you dive a bit deeper into those statistics, the margin has been decreasing each time (150, 100, 80, 40...), so if Imperial could get stuck into them early on then we’d have a real match on our hands.

Kohn is quickest on the buzzer for the first starter, and they take three bonuses, with Kohn saying that ‘this is giving me strong Dr Faustus vibes’, before giving Dr Faustus as the correct answer for the third. His speed is his downfall on the next starter though, and he loses five points with a neg, allowing his opposite number Rout to pick up the scraps.

A very long-winded biology question falls to no one, before another Imperial neg, this time from Wong, let Braid in to take the lead for Warwick. An incredibly easy bonuse set on Shakespeare extended this for them, though they didn’t recognise ‘Night of the Living Dead’ from its description.

Marrow, Imperial’s resident smiler, took the first picture starter to her evident delight, and a couple of bonuses tied the game at thirty fives. Braid is unlucky with his guess of ‘suffer no fools’ on the next starter - the answer is ‘suffer fools gladly’.

A trademark rapid-buzz from Kohn took the lead back to London, before a second neg from Wong allowed Braid to level the game again. Imperial’s tactic seems to be to win the buzzer race, regardless of whether or not they know the answer. So far they have three negs to three correct starters. An inspired guess of semi-colon from Marrow stole back the initiative. Neither side could string together a run of starters yet.

Not wanting to let Kohn have all the credit, Rout comes in super early on the next starter with Hamiltonian Operator. By now we have reached the music round, in a riveting but so-far low-scoring match. Kohn takes us to seventy apiece with the musical starter, giving Miles Davis and Dave Brubeck as his answer, even though the question had only asked for one person (to be fair to him, the question asked for ‘a bandleader and soloist’, making it seem as though they were two different people, but anyway, Paxman lets him off).

Both teams are making a dangerous habit of dropping bonuses, and six pass in succession with no correct answers. A pair of starters from Burrell, along with a few made five pointers, including some on Bulgarian football teams, gave Warwick the biggest lead of the match so far - fifty.

Kohn isn’t content to give up so easily, and takes the second picture starter, along with a pair of bonuses. Braid stumbles on a chemical elements question, and again Kohn takes advantage. Dismissing some of the bonuses as too easy, Imperial close to within ten.

Pollard gets his first starter of the evening with Yuri Gagarin, and a rare full set from Warwick gave them a thirty five point lead. A supremely clutch buzz from Kohn keeps Imperial in it, but Braid is quickest to identify/guess that a million seconds is two weeks (to the closest week), possibly putting the game beyond the reach of the Londoners. Paxman wastes some time by going on about how stupid it is to know that fact, and Warwick waste some more time with a lengthy conference on the bonuses. They are forty points clear, and probably heading to the final.

But HANG ON!

Braid negs. Thirty five points.

Kohn trips over his tongue, but gets the answer out in the end. Twenty five points. Could they do it?

No (sorry to have built up your hopes, if I did). The gong follows soon after, with Imperial still twenty five points adrift.

Final Score: Imperial 135 - 160 Warwick

Probably a deserved win for Warwick that, but Imperial were an absolute delight and it was a pleasure to watch their evolution over the course of the tournament, especially Kohn’s performances on the buzzer.

I’m looking forward to the second semi-final next week, which also promises to be a barnstormer. See you then.

If you’ve enjoyed this, but can’t wait until next week for another fix of University Challenge, then you can check out my Patreon, where I’ve been reviewing the 2015/16 series.

#university challenge #bbc2 #warwick #imperial #jeremy paxman

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unscharf-an-den-raendern · 4 years

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Translation:

Kraftwerk: We’re a radio station

Photo caption: Kraftwerk, dressed up for rich uncle Alois’ birthday; in the middle Florian Schneider-Esleben (above) and Ralf Hütter.

For almost two years, Kraftwerk didn’t go on stage in this country and you had to go abroad to see them live. On October 10th they played in the well-visited Roundhouse in London where some people even started dancing and enthusiastically singing along to the German lyrics. It was their last concert on a five week European tour through Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, France and England. Asked for a summary of the trip, Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider, who always give interviews together, answer with a short “correct”.

Ralf: It was our first European tour, last year we only played in America for three months. Now it’s Europe’s turn because our new album will be “Transeuropa Express”. And this tour was so to speak a mental stimulus for the LP.

ME: What did you find most striking in America?

Florian: It made us realize where we actually come from, who we are and why we affect people so strongly. We noticed a strong effect, a big astonishment.

Ralf: This incredible distance, flying over the transatlantic literally gave us confidence. Suddenly you see yourself standing on stage like an observer.

ME: Did that make you more free?

Ralf: A bit. It was always incredibly hard for us here. While we were accepted, our things didn’t catch on. They always called us weirdos, tinker freaks. While the people in America immediately accepted us, just like we accepted ourselves.

Florian: Even though they were a hard audience to some extent. Rockers...

Ralf: ...they were really into it, started dancing... That brought us further. In Germany, we might have isolated ourselves even longer, would have become paranoid. There we could come out of our shell and now we go even further.

Florian: Our breath became longer, we can blow more into it.

Ralf: We also had a lot of colored people in the audience. In Germany, a lot of people still think our music is just culture. Some people there called it space boogie or techno boogie.

Florian: One guy spontaneously said that one of our songs was like a boogie from a typewriter and a vacuum cleaner gone wild. I agree with some of it, there are real comics going on, the machine plays itself.

ME: You have a lot of new machines, what’s on stage actually?

Ralf: I have a laser light organ. It’s made in America and better than a Mellotron. You have optical records that produce the sound and are scanned by laser light pressure.

Florian: Of course, that system has existed since the film era.

Ralf: I also have a sequencer, an automatic music machine that plays the repeating melodies.

ME: That sounds a bit like a fortepiano?

Ralf: Yes, diddle-dee diddle-dee...and then our two small synthesizers.

ME: Unlike before, one hears a lot of voices and vocals in your songs now.

Ralf: I’m particularly interested in the human voice. We worked with it a lot in the last two years because we sometimes develop certain motives out of the human voice. I only use human vocals on the optical records, sometimes violins...not just instrumental music like before but pre-recorded human voices, speech, words, poetry and that speaking typewriter.

ME: Is that the monster voice announcing you?

Ralf: Yes, that’s a completely artificial voice, a talking machine.

Florian: A speech computer. When you press “a” it says “a”. The keyboard is extended so you can not only enter letters but also diphthongs, brighter, deeper, etc.

Ralf: We also have those two electric drum kits and the light barrier drum kit.

Florian: So, when the light barrier is broken it triggers the contact. It drums. And we also built something ourselves, an electronic flute, a magic flute.

Ralf: All instruments we developed with our engineers are patented. We want to mass-produce them so other people can play on the as well.

Florian: Then you can play eletric drums at home. You can just connect them to your stereo system.

Ralf: These electric instruments are a lot easier to play because you can translate a sound idea much more directly. You can’t reproduce a car on a piano that easily.

Florian: It’s electronic home music, a lot of people are writing to us, saying they’re interested it in.

ME: How are your songs created?

Ralf: In the studio through fumbling around, coincidences or by playing around; through mental drafts, so work on the drawing board, or just sound finds on the instruments. Or at concerts, sometimes we play a song on and on and then a new song grows out of it like a tree branch.

Florian: We’re in state where we could play basically anything. Of course we need some distance between idea and realisation sometimes. But the path has become very short by now.

ME: Would you find it derogatory if I referred to your music as naive electronic?

Ralf: Hard to say, some call it intellectual, some call it naive...

Florian:..simple

Ralf: I think it’s everything at once.

ME: I think that Electronic is particularly transparent and comprehensible in your band.

Ralf: Yes, transparent, that’s better. We also want everyone to be able to recognize what we’re playing right away. We don’t want to convey something else with these means, something behind the stage, but only what’s up front. That’s also why we have the neon lights standing behind us so we’re transparent.

ME: A lot of your songs have environmental sounds as a topic?

Ralf: We’re interested in acoustic phenomena all over the world and that’s something we can convey now. It would be best if the people who walk out after our concerts and no longer consider the sounds around them as noise (of course only those that aren’t damaging to hearing) but consider them to be normal environmental sounds. The world of sounds is music.

ME: Do you always have a specific concept for your albums?

Ralf: We don’t write twelve songs, one about love, the next one about pants, the third one about football. Even when the things are different, cut-ups, there’s always a red line running behind it. It’s always there, latent.

ME: Even when you’re playing tapes?

Ralf: Yes, we also play tapes and cassettes. Then someone presses the button and leaves the stage. We show exactly what we do.

ME: Why tapes anyway?

Ralf: A tape is an instrument too, an acoustic machine.

ME: You have a very differentiated and unusual stage show now. Slides, the metal cage where a head danced up and down in black UV light, the signal play with the hands which trigger the impulses at the light barrier drums at the same time. Are you planning even more?

Ralf: The man in the UV cage is the prototype, we did that for the first time on this tour. But we want to show even more clearly that this is some kind of man-machine, a kind of ballet - dancing and making music at the same time through movement, so making music while dancing.

ME: You are remarkably concerned with Radio. I’m not just thinking about the last LP.

Florian: It’s a homage to the radio, the first electronic studio that existed. Back then, people like Stockhausen always made music directly on the radio.

Ralf: We always listened to it in the past. It was called Nachtmusik (night music). That’s our background too, that’s why we had the idea to form a completely electronic band. In America the people always asked for the reason and we only realized it when we remembered how this Nachtmusik fascinated us. When it was completely dark and we had to go to bed and could listen to the transistor radio from under the sheets. We’re interested in the radio awareness/ consciousness (translator’s note: “Bewusstsein” can mean both of these things, I don’t know which one Ralf meant).

Florian: And everyone can try these things out themself. When you tune in on a station on the radio and hear the pre-formed information, how it’s meant to be, you just have to tune out a bit, for example at night on short wave and you hear the craziest sounds, morse codes, pure sounds, it’s insane. Radio Cairo and so on...This idea, album as radio...

Ralf: That fascinated us immensely. We always wanted an own...we saw ourselves, Kraftwerk, in the Kling Klang Studio as a radio station. But it’s not legally possible in Germany. In America we met guys from our generation with their own radio stations, somewhere out of town in an old mansion. And they broadcast into the night from there, just like they want to, right off the bat...

Florian: They have their own radio programmes.

Ralf: ...and just send their very own thoughts into the ether...and we see ourselves as a private radio station.

#kraftwerk #this was a bit hard to translate #they speak very eloquently

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malecsecretsanta · 3 years

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Merry Christmas, moonlight-breeze-44!

For @moonlight-breeze-44. I took a few of your prompts, including angst, hurt/comfort, self-harming Alec and if you squint: sleepy cuddles, fluff and found family feels. I hope you enjoy it!!

Warning: self-harm

Read On AO3

*****

I am enough

“What are you doing to find our missing children?” Meliorn stares Alec down across the table. “Two faerie children have gone missing in the past week.”

“We’re investigating the situation. We’re in the process of gathering evidence and witness statements.” Alec reports.

“What about the three missing werewolf children? Maia inquires. “Have you made any progress on figuring out who took them?”

Alec shakes his head no. “Not yet. We had a lead - one of the witnesses reported seeing someone watching the children a few days before the abductions. We looked into it, but it’s not him. He's a mundane. He wouldn’t have been able to see the children, far less take him.”

Maia takes a breath to calm herself and leans back in her chair.

Before she can reply, Raphael speaks up. “A second newborn vampire went missing two nights ago. We filled out your reports. Have you found anything yet?”

Again Alec shakes his head no. “We are investigating, Raphael. I have shadowhunters going over the reports and searching security footage.”

“Shouldn’t you have shadowhunters on the ground, looking for witnesses?” Raphael inquires.

Magnus watches as Alec takes a moment to formulate his answer. Unlike the other downworlders, Magnus knows the pressure Alec is feeling from the Clave. The Clave does not care about downworlder children and does not want Alec ‘interfering with downworlder businesses.’ It angers him to no end, that the Clave is trying to stop Alec from helping the downworlders by putting pressure on him to improve the Institute’s patrols and demon kills.

“I will. The team gathering evidence for the Seelie abductions is nearly finished. It shouldn’t take more than a day. They already have instructions to take on the Vampire abduction case.” Alec replies.

“Hold on, you have an entire Institute full of hundreds of shadowhunters, and you can only spare a single team?” Raphael sounds incredulous.

Alec struggles to respond to that. “The Clave doesn’t approve of the Institute facilitating these investigations.”

“The Clave doesn’t approve?” Maia snaps “there are children missing! Three werewolf children have gone missing in the past week. Children! If it was shadowhunter children, the Clave would have spared no expense.”

Magnus watches as Alec digs his nails into his hand. He knows from earlier conversations that Alec agrees with them, but the Clave is giving Alec unreasonable standards, leaving him little time. Magnus knows that Alec has his best people -including himself- working to find the children, but the Institute is spread too thin.

Magnus wants to cover Alec’s hands with his own and stop him from hurting himself. But he can’t, because Alec had asked him here as High Warlock of Brooklyn, and not his boyfriend.

“Maia, I’m doing the best I can. I-”

“I agree with Maia, Shadowhunter. A single team of what, five shadowhunters? Out of the hundreds you have here isn’t enough. It’s the bare minimum! Raphael snaps.

“Investigative teams consists of twelve shadowhunters-”

“-big difference-” Raphael snarls under his breath.

“- and I’m trying to allocate more shadowhunters but we’re spread too thin. The Institute has many roles. We’re constantly closing smaller rifts - which show up more often than you assume, we consistently have have a minimum of 10 shadowhunter patrols out and a third of my shadowhunters are attending a conference in Idris-”

“- We get it, shadowhunter.” Meliorn interrupts. “You’re busy with your shadowhunter business, and downworlder business must take a backseat.”

“No, that’s not-” Alec takes a breath before continuing. “Right now, finding the missing children is my first priority. But I also report to the Clave so I can’t neglect my other duties.”

“There have been five downworlder abductions in the past week!” Maia slams her fist down on the table. “This should be your only priority, shadowhunter!”

There’s a chime as Magnus receives a notification on his phone. Magnus looks up and clears his throat. “Six abductions. I just received word that a warlock was taken. He’s 18 years old, which is still adolescent considering warlock lifespans.”

“Six abductions, and nothing,” Raphael sneers, “perhaps if the seventh was a shadowhunter child then you’d take this case seriously?”

Meliorn gestures around himself. “I thought these downworld cabinet meetings were a step in the right direction. But now it seems like they only serve to inform you of downworld activities.”

Alec looks pained. “That’s not-”

Maia stands up. “I’ve had enough of this. We’re wasting time. Since you are either incapable or not willing to find the children, I’m taking this into my own hands. And if a shadowhunter is responsible or even involved, Accords be damned.”

Maia walks out. Raphael nods in agreement, and follows her out of the room. “The least you can do is to stay out of our way, Lightwood.”

Alec flinches, and then drops his head into his knuckles. Magnus can see his nails biting into his skin. It’s a sadly familiar habit, one that Magnus sees more than he’d like.

Aside from Magnus and Alec, the room is empty. Magnus reaches across the table for Alec’s hand, but as soon as his fingers make contact, Alec flinches away and stands.

Magnus reaches out, worried. He knows how hard Alec is taking this case, and how much the lack of leads is weighing on Alec. “Alexander-”

Alec abruptly stands up, taps his tablet and hands it to Magnus without meeting his eyes. “Can you fill out this report for the missing warlock? I need to rendez-vous with Underhill and see if his team got anything from the last potential abduction site.”

Magnus takes the tablet and steps closer to Alec, who takes two steps away. “Alec-”

“I’m busy, I need to go look-”

Magnus recognizes this particular behavior in Alec, and it hurts that Alec is fleeing from him. He takes a quick step forward and grabs Alec’s hands. “I know you’re working hard on this. I know how hard the Clave is working against you. You’ll find them. I believe in you.”

Alec meets his eyes for a moment. Magnus is taken back by the emotions he sees swirling in Alec’s glassy eyes. Despair, self-hatred and a steely determination to make it right.

Alec looks away, touches Magnus’s hand gently and then pulls away before walking towards the exit.

“I’ll see you at the loft tonight?”

There’s a pause in Alec’s step. He nods, and then exits.

Magnus takes it as a yes.

~~~

Alec doesn’t show up.

It hurts but Magnus gets it. Alec is under a lot of pressure and stress, from both the Clave and the downworld and his own desire to rescue the children before harm befalls them.

Staying at the institute was probably a better choice. Alec would be able to handle the investigation faster there, as opposed to Magnus’s loft, despite Magnus’s ability to portal. The notion that every second counts is well proven, after all.

Magnus just wishes that he’d got the chance to talk to Alec, and ease some of the self-hatred out of him. The downworld cabinet was correct, but they didn’t have the full picture, not like Magnus and Alec.

Magnus goes to bed alone, deciding to portal to the Institute tomorrow at noon to check on Alec. He imagines that Izzy, or Alec’s friend, Underhill would talk to Alec and ease some of his guilt and stress.

He flicks his fingers and sends a ‘good night Alec’ text to Alec. Magnus closes his eyes and falls asleep, hoping but not expecting to receive a reply from Alec. Magnus knows his boyfriend.

He doesn’t receive a reply.

~~~

Alec doesn’t message Magnus in the morning either. In fact, Magnus’s phone remains void of any communication from Alec, until eleven thirty.

Delighted that Alec is reaching out, Magnus picks up the call with a cheerful, “Good morning Alexander!”

“Magnus, do you have anything that belongs to the missing warlock,” Alec presumably looks down at the report for the warlock’s name, “Mathias?”

Magnus frowns as Alec gets straight to business. “No. I could get something from his flat. You want me to run a trace on it?”

“Yeah. I know the other possessions were blocked from the tracking spell, but I-we need to cover all our bases.”

Magnus hums in agreement. Alec sounds stressed and tired, as if he didn’t sleep. Magnus wonders how to broach the subject without scaring Alec off.

“You didn’t come by the loft last night,” Magnus says lightly. “Chairman Meow missed his morning head scratches.”

“I-Magnus.” Alec says, He sounds exhausted, and Magnus feels for him. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay.” Magnus says quickly. “Take care of yourself. And if there’s anything that I can help you with…”

“I’ll let you know.” Alec promises, and Magnus hears the truth in it.

“I’ll let Madzie know you say ‘hi’?”

“Madzie? Wait- dammit.” Alec swears as he remembers they were supposed to pick her up and babysit.

“Alec-”

There’s some static in the background. “I need to go.”

Magnus sighs and says “Alright, bye.” but the line is already dead. He checks his phone, and realizes that he doesn’t have enough time to check on Alec at the institute if he wants to get to Mathias’s apartment and run the trace before picking up Madzie.

Magnus portals to the closest spot to Mathias’s apartment that he’s been to, and starts walking.

~~~

Angry tears slip out of Catarina’s eyes and dark blue magic escapes from her hands uncontrollably as she talks to Magnus.

It’s identical to a typical mundane child-kidnapping case.

The parent or guardian looks away for just a moment in a large, busy area, just long enough for the child to run away or for someone to grab them, and in a second the child is gone.

However, Madzie is no mundane. And the way Catarina’s frantic tracking spells have been blocked is no coincidence.

Madzie is the seventh abduction victim.

Magnus is just as angry and scared. He views the downworld as his extended family, the younger souls he takes care of and places under his protection. But Madzie… when Magnus was with Madzie and Alec it didn’t feel like extended family.

It felt like his immediate family. His adopted daughter, or rather niece and his significant other. He wanted to help raise her, and be there for her the way a father would.

Magnus loves Madzie.

And now she’s gone.

Magnus carefully pulls Catarina towards him, and runs a soothing hand on her back. “Hey look at me.” Magnus tilts Catarina’s head up, and they make eye contact. “I promise we’ll find her.” Magnus infuses a bit of magic into his words.

Catarina nods, and the magic stops leaking out of her hands.

Magnus steps away from her, opens a portal up to the institute and steps through.

~~~

Magnus steps out of the portal, right in front of the massive church doors to the institute. He knocks, and waits a moment before Underhill, Alec’s friend opens them.

“Magnus.” Underhill says. Magnus detects a note of relief in his voice. “I’m glad you came. Hopefully you can help Alec.”

Magnus nods tightly, and follows Underhill to the ops center where he spots Alec talking to Izzy in front of a map of New York.

“Alec.” It’s not often that Magnus uses this serious tone without any flirtation or sarcasm, and it never fails to grab the recipient’s attention. “We need to talk.”

Alec looks at him for a second, and then leads Magnus to his office.

Magnus closes the door behind him.

“Magnus, what is it?”

“It’s Madzie.”

Alec freezes. The knowledge that Madzie is in danger freezes him in place. Magnus can see the moment Alec realizes what happened, by the terrified look in his eyes. Neither of them move.

“She’s been taken.”

Magnus sees Alec curl his nails into his hands and absently wonders, how many times has Alec done that since he saw him yesterday? How many times has Alec done that since they spoke at noon?

Magnus recounts how Catarina was waiting with Madzie to give her to Magnus to babysit, and how Magnus ran slightly late. How Catarina had looked away for just a moment, and Madzie was lost. How Catarina’s tracking spells were blocked, just like the rest.

As he talks, Alec’s knuckles grow whiter and whiter as he digs his nails into his palms and the softer sides of his fingers. It’s only when Magnus finishes speaking that Alec unfolds his hands, and Magnus sees blood.

“Alec,” Magnus whispers, reaching for Alec’s hands. “I know how you’re feeling but you can’t do this to yourself.”

He cradles Alec’s hands in his own, and feels sick as he sees all the crescent scars, some of them already starting to heal, others still bleeding. There must’ve been at least fifteen on each hand. Magnus’s heart breaks.

He summons his magic to heal them, but Alec yanks his hands back.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel.” Alec reaches up and tugs on his hair, painfully. "I-we need to find her. Them. Now.”

Magnus studies Alec worriedly and steps closer. He stands inches away from Alec, and gently takes both of Alec’s hands, unwinding the one in Alec’s hair.

“Your feelings, your emotions always matter, Alec.” Magnus whispers. “But hurting yourself isn't fixing anything. Where’s your stress ball?”

Wordlessly Alec steps back and opens one of the drawers in his desk. Magnus peers inside and sees Alec’s stress ball in pieces. It’s covered in indents and large tears, presumably from Alec’s fingernails. It’s almost unrecognizable.

“I tried using it instead,” Alec says, stilted. “But…”

“... But a mundane stress ball can’t hold up against a shadowhunter.” Magnus finishes, and Alec nods looking away.

Magnus twirls his fingers, and bright blue magic surrounds the destroyed stress ball, repairing and assembling it. When it’s done, Magnus picks it up. “I’ll see what I can do to make it shadowhunter proof. In the meantime, maybe you should consider trying some of the other coping mechanisms we talked about? Like holding the ice block, or drawing on yourself with a soft-tipped pen?

It feels like years pass (and Magnus would know) before Alec nods in agreement.

“Thank you.” Magnus steps closer to Alec and gently grasps his hands again. Magnus sees the dark bags under Alec’s eyes, and smells the scent of coffee on his breath. He puts the pieces together.

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Magnus asks, deliberately keeping his voice soft.

Alec looks away, and tries to tug his hands out of Magnus’s grip, but Magnus keeps hold of them.

“Talk to me, Alec. I know you're hurting. Let me help.”

Slowly, Alec gives Magnus the slowest of nods.

Magnus summons his magic, and in a moment all the crescent cuts on Alec’s hands are gone. Magnus lifts both of Alec’s palms up, and gently kisses them before letting them go. He gently grasps Alec’s head, and slides his thumb on Alec’s cheek. The dull pain and faint ringing that comes with pulling an all-nighter disappears and Alec leans on Magnus, arms wrapping around him tightly. He’s shaking.

Magnus returns the hug protectively.

“I can’t - I can’t find them, I can’t, Magnus. I tried, but that’s not good enough.” Alec sobs, words half-muffled against Magnus’s shoulder.

“I’m trying but there’s nothing and the Clave is pulling me in a dozen different directions and I haven’t found anything to give to the cabinet and it’s been two weeks since the first child was taken. Two weeks, Magnus. And I’m still at step one. I- I don’t even know if the kids are even alive and now Madzie-”

Alec lets out a heartbreaking sob.

“-I can’t - I can’t even think of what might happen to her, Magnus. If I’d just been there, maybe she wouldn’t have been taken, or if I was better, I would’ve gotten something-” Alec shudders. “It’s my fault - it's my fault she’s gone. I should - I should’ve been there.”

“I’m not good enough.” Alec cries, and shakes in Magnus’s arms.

Magnus pulls back just enough so that he can look Alec in the eye. “Alec, sweetheart, you are good enough. You are one of the best men I’ve ever known.”

Alec looks away.

“And I know you don’t believe me right now, but it's true. But let me convince you of this. These abductions are not your fault. I see how much effort and time you’re putting into finding them. I know you’re doing everything you can, Alec. This is not your fault.”

Alec nods, and holds onto Magnus.

“And this isn’t your sole burden to bear. You have an entire institute, and the High Warlock of Brooklyn at your fingertips. We’re all willing. Let us help you, Alec. You don’t have to spread yourself so thin.”

"Let me take care of you." Magnus whispers, pleading.

Slowly Alec nods, and Magnus hugs him again, tilting his head to lean against Alec’s.

Alec hugs him back tightly, trembling in his arms. Magnus adjusts an arm to rub Alec’s back comfortingly as Alec cries. He can feel a spot on his shoulder growing increasingly damp. It’s heartbreaking to hear, but Magnus knows Alec needs this. Magnus knows from first hand experience that while crying generally doesn’t solve the problem, it’s a necessary emotional release.

Magnus also knows that as head of the Institute, Alec wouldn’t let any of the shadowhunters under his care see him so vulnerable. It occurs to Magnus that the previous heads of the Institute, Maryse and Robert, were the same way. Every time he saw them, Maryse and Robert spoke in strict, controlled tones. Magnus can’t recall them showing any other emotion than anger, on a few rare occasions. He suddenly doubts they would have instructed Alec on dealing with the stress, other than ignoring it.

“It’s okay to cry, Alec.” Magnus reassures. “I don’t know what your parents or the Clave tell you, but every leader feels this way when the situation arises. I did, quite frequently when Valentine was around. Feeling this way doesn’t make you weak, or not good enough. It makes you human.”

Magnus’s words seem to get through to Alec. Slowly enough, Magnus feels the tremors from Alec ease, and his nearly painful grip on Magnus eases into something more comfortable. After a few moments, Alec lets go and wipes his face. He clears his throat and glances at Magnus.

“Thanks,” Alec offers Magnus a small smile. “I think I needed that.”

Magnus laughs lightly and hums in agreement. “How do you feel now?”

“Better,” Alec replies, “I’m still worried about Madzie and the others but it’s not…”

“... overwhelming?” Magnus guesses, from experience.

“Yeah, exactly.” Alec smiles, before giving Magnus a considering look. “Can we do a scene? I want to stop thinking about the case and get out of my head for a bit.”

Magnus gives Alec a teasing, playful smile. “You want to lock me up?”

“Actually I was wondering if I could, uh, sub for you?” Alec asks, slightly nervously. Magnus can see the tips of his ears turning red.

“I’d love that. But are you sure?” Magnus verifies. “It’s usually the other way around.”

“I’m sure.” Alec smiles reassuringly. “I’ll let you know if I don’t like anything, or if I want to stop.”

Magnus smiles, reaches up and slides his thumb across Alec’s cheek. “Good. We won’t do much today, you’re pretty tired.”

Magnus waits for the ‘okay,’ from Alec before starting. “Go tell Isabelle that there’s been another abduction, and Catarina and I will leave the reports on her desk shortly. Tell her that you’re going to take a few hours, and then come back to help.”

Alec nods. “Okay.”

“Meet me in your room when you’re done.”

Alec nods, and Magnus smiles and kisses him before letting him leave.

Magnus exits the office after Alec and makes his way to Alec’s room. It’s hardly the first time he’s been here, and no-one stops him in entering.

Inside Alec has case files, papers and photographs spread over his bed. With a flick of his wrist, Magnus packs it up neatly and sends it to Alec’s office table.

He pulls off his outer jacket and shoes, and sits down, leaning on the headboard to wait for Alec.

Magnus doesn’t have to wait long. Alec appears in the doorway. He walks in and shuts the door behind him.

Magnus stands up and walks towards Alec. He plucks the tablet out of Alec’s hands, and sends it to Alec’s office. Then he raises his hands to Alec’s shoulders, and slides Alec’s jacket off.

With a flick of his wrist, Magnus summons soft sweatpants. He hands it to Alec.

“Go get changed, sweetheart.”

Alec nods, takes the clothes and disappears into the small washroom on the other side of the room. Not a minute later, he reappears wearing the clothes Magnus gave him. Some of the previous tension has disappeared, and Alec’s eyes only hold a glimmer of red indicating he was just crying. Magnus steps closer to Alec and kisses him. He places his hands on Alec’s back, holding him in place and feeling a bit more of the tension fade.

Eventually Magnus pulls back. “It’s comfortable?” Magnus asks to make sure.

Alec nods. “It’s soft.” There’s a contented hum from Alec. “I like it. Thank you.”

Magnus smiles. “Good.” He gestures to the bed behind him. “Go lie down on your stomach at the edge of the bed.”

Alec looks slightly confused, but he complies anyway. Magnus stands beside the bed, pulls off his rings, flicks his wrists and massage oil immediately covers his hands. He starts kneading Alec’s shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

Alec melts into the bed, and makes a muffled affirming sound.

Magnus smiles and continues. He watches as Alec slowly melts into the sheets, as the sensation of Magnus’s hands on his back takes over his focus, pushing his other thoughts away. Magnus watches Alec’s eyes close, and after a few minutes Magnus can tell that Alec reaches the line between relaxed and drowsy. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Alec twists his head to the side to look at Magnus. “Will you stay?” He asks, sleep already drifting into his voice making it soft.

Magnus doesn’t even have to think.

“Always.”

And just like that, nearly all the tension in Alec's muscles is gone. Magnus knows that they still have a long way to go, but this is a step in the right direction. When he's sure Alec is fast asleep, he pulls the blanket over Alec, and sits next to him leaning on the headboard.

With a flick of his wrist, the massage oil is gone. Magnus summons the first case file from Alec’s office and begins reviewing the details, while gently carding through Alec’s hair.

They’ll get through his. They have to.

~~~

Four stressful days later Magnus and Alec are standing inside an abandoned warehouse near the ocean surrounded by abducted downworlder children. There’s nearly fifty of them there, from all over the world judging by their clothing. Alec holds Magnus’s hand tightly as he directs the children over to the shadowhunters and downworlders to get medically checked out.

So far, they’ve found both missing fae children, one of the werewolves, the missing vampire and the elder warlock.

They haven’t seen Madzie yet, and Magnus can tell that Alec is getting antsy.

Suddenly, there’s a familiar cry. “Alec!”

Magnus turns in time to see Madzie barrel into Alec, clinging to him tightly. Alec picks up her and returns the fierce hug. Magnus can see lines of tension that even he had not been able to rid fading.

Magnus quickly sends a fire message to Catarina, telling her that they found Madzie and to meet them at the entrance of the warehouse.

Madzie pulls back from the hug and smiles at Alec. “I knew you’d find me!” Then she spots Magnus and starts wiggling, insisting to be held by Magnus as well.

Alec laughs wetly and hands her to Magnus.

“Sweet pea! I’m glad you’re alright.” Magnus smiles, and Madzie beams back at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alec smile shakily and wipe a few stray tears away. Magnus switches to hold Madzie with one arm and pulls Alec into their hug with the other.

Finally, something in Magnus settles. His family is together, and safe again.

The End.

#moonlight-breeze-44 #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

Developments & Discoveries

A JSE Fanfic

Alright guys, this are a lot of different scenes in this story, but they really just follow a few “storylines.” But big things happen. First, Chase finds out some good news. Laurens and Schneep talk again, yay! And we learn more about our antagonist, Anti. The fic itself isn’t any longer than my usual ones, but there’s a lot packed in here. Guess I was excited to return to this world, haha. Enjoy, guys :)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Chase woke up at two in the afternoon. Well technically, he was awake at twelve, but lied in bed for another couple hours before actually getting up. “Oh my gooood.” He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. Why couldn’t he get up at a normal time lately? At least today he had an excuse because he had the kids over yesterday. Saturdays to Mondays, that was the agreement. And Stacy wasn’t ready to renegotiate it.

They’d talked about that last night, when she came to pick them up. “Chase, I know this isn’t...ideal,” she said in a low voice. “But look around. Your fridge is empty, things are scattered around the house in a mess, and, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I...haven’t heard anything about a job or anything.” She sighed. “It’s not even really up to me, you know. Courts.”

“No, no, I get it,” Chase had replied. “It makes sense.”

“We can work things out once things are more settled.”

Well, now he was lying in bed and feeling bad, which was a step down from lying in a bed feeling tired, so he decided to get up and shower. It had been a while since that happened, and he couldn’t go to his one outing he’d planned today like that. He rolled out of bed, took a quick shower, ate a Pop-Tart for breakfast, and he felt a little better.

It really did make sense to have the kids spend most of their time with their mom. Chase knew he hadn’t exactly been...kept-together recently. And by “recently,” he meant for about the past two years. Sophie and Nick needed a parent who could actually put energy into raising them. He could do that, eventually. If he worked on it. “Positive thoughts, Chasey boy,” he said under his breath. “Be optimistic.”

Okay, that was enough of that for now. He had something to do. But before he did that, he checked his phone for any texts. Marvin sent a video of Luna and Ragamuffin being cute, that was nice. Nothing else. Alright, no more stalling. He grabbed his jacket and cap and headed out to the car.

——————

He stepped into the hospital just as visiting hours were starting. By now he had hospital check-in routines down to muscle memory. He was signing his name on the check-in clipboard when he was interrupted by a loud voice: “Ah, Mr. Brody! Good to see you again.”

Chase jumped a bit, then turned around. “Oh. Hi, Dr. Emerson.”

The doctor was a tall man with a thick beard. Chase had always thought he looked more like a Viking than one of the city’s best...well, he couldn’t remember what exact field the doctor was a specialist in, all he knew was it had something to do with whatever had gone wrong with Jack. Brains or nerves or something. “So soon, huh?” Dr. Emerson said, chuckling. “No, I understand.”

“Uhhh...” Was Chase missing something? The last time he’d been here was two weeks ago. “O...kay?”

“Well, don’t show too much enthusiasm.” Dr. Emerson raised an eyebrow. “Are you still confused, then?”

“Confused about wh—I mean I am confused, because I don’t know what to be confused about.” That was starting to sound less and less like a word.

“Ah.” Emerson’s smile faltered. “Do you not remember what I told you yesterday?”

“I wasn’t here yesterday,” Chase said, his voice slowly rising as nerves creeped up on him. “What are you talking about?”

Now Emerson looked as baffled as Chase felt. “I...think there’s been some misunderstanding here.”

“Y’know, I’m gonna, uh, go to Jack’s room.” Chase started walking away, down the hall towards the ICU wing. “You can, uh, come with me and tell me what happened yesterday while we go.”

Emerson followed. As the two of them waited at the elevator, he started explaining. “Well, about this time yesterday, you walked in, checked in just like you did, and went up to the room.” The elevator arrived with a ding, and the two of them stepped inside. Chase pressed the button for the third floor and listened as the doctor continued. “Of course, I only assume this part, since you wrote your name on the visitor’s slip. I was already in the room, and that’s when I told you about the change in Jack’s condition—”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Chase shouted.

“My god, man, you can be loud when you want,” Emerson said, taking a step away. “Anyway, yes, his GCS score went up.”

“I...don’t know what that means,” Chase said, staring at him in shock. The elevator dinged again, but he didn’t even step out.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Emerson said. He made an ‘after you’ gesture, and Chase finally stepped out, now following Emerson as he walked down a familiar hallway. “Then you said you would look it up later, and I left you with Jack.”

“None of this happened,” Chase said, clenching his shaking hands into fists. “This did not happen, I-I was busy all day yesterday.”

“Well, could it have been one of your friends?” Emerson asked. “You do all look similar, don’t you? Though I don’t understand why he’d pretend to be you.”

Chase fell silent. He knew that neither Marvin or JJ would do something like that. But there was someone who might. Anti. In fact, hadn’t Anti done the same thing once before? Pretended to be Marvin visiting the hospital? But why? Jack didn’t have anything to do with any of this. He had no idea what Anti was planning, and that led his mind to the worst case scenarios.

They arrived at Room 309, and Chase reached forward to open the door. “Oh wait,” Dr. Emerson interrupted, placing a hand on the door. “I should probably tell you about the changes. I would have yesterday, but you—or, er, your friend saw first.”

“Okay, so what are theys?” Chase asked. “These changes. What’s a GCS? Is that some sort of fancy brain wave or something?”

Emerson chuckled. “No, it’s not actually anything in the body. GCS stands for Glasgow Coma Scale, it’s a way to describe someone’s level of consciousness after brain trauma. I suppose I’ve been so used to talking about it with others in the department that I forgot I had to explain it.”

“Yes, that would be appreciated,” Chase prompted.

“Well, the GCS measures three factors: eye opening, verbal response, and motor response. Each of these are measured on a scale, and when combined there’s a highest possible score of 15. Mr. McLoughlin’s has recently raised from the lowest possible score, three, to a five.”

“And that’s good,” Chase clarified.

“Yes, it is very good.” Emerson smiled. “I’ll be honest with you, Chase, it’s been over a year, and things weren’t looking good for Jack’s recovery. This is a huge development.”

Chase nodded. “R...right.” He grabbed the doorknob and swung it open, stepping inside.

The room looked the same as ever. Jack looked the same as ever. Chase hesitated, then walked up next to the bed. And then the difference was clear. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jack opened his eyes.

Chase had to stop and process what he was looking at. His eyes were open. He was looking at him. “I...oh my god.” He covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my god, Jack?”

“He can’t respond, Chase.” Emerson walked up next to him. “He hasn’t reacted to anything verbally or through motion. Just the eyes, and it’s not spontaneous. Only to sound.”

“Oh.” Chase nodded, slowly lowering his hand. “Can he hear us?”

“Well, we have no way of knowing,” Emerson explained. “It could only be an automatic response, he could be hearing us but not comprehending what we say, or he could be listening to everything.” He paused. “You understand that a GCS score of five is still very low, yes? Anything below an eight is still considered to be a coma.”

“Right...” Chase took another step closer, reaching down to touch Jack’s hand. Still, it was an improvement, and at this point, he’d take any sign of change for the better. It had been so long since he last saw his friend smile...talked to him...perhaps eventually, he’d be able to do that again. But as the hopeful thought arose, it was brought back down by a sinking feeling. He looked over at Emerson. “Hey doc, this is important. I didn’t come to visit yesterday. My friends didn’t either. There’s...” he hesitated. “There’s someone else. He’s been following us, a-and I don’t know what he wants, but it’s most likely not...good.”

Emerson turned pale. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, the police know about this guy.” Even though he hadn’t told them that he thought Anti was stalking them...well, at least they knew he existed. He wasn’t sure if he should tell them, after all, he didn’t have much proof. “So you have to be careful, okay? I-I’ll tell my friends, we need to find a way for you to make sure it’s us and not him...” He looked back down at Jack. Nobody was more vulnerable than someone in a coma.

“I’ll wait outside, we can discuss this later,” Emerson said. “After you’re done here.”

Chase nodded. Emerson left, footsteps retreating, and Chase didn’t turn around as he heard the door shut. He squeezed Jack’s hand tighter. “Sorry you got caught up in this,” he muttered. “I don’t know what he’d want from you. I mean, Anti popped up in our lives after you went through all this. Or, well, JJ knew him.” He pulls over the chair, sitting down. “Yeah, uh, this Anti guy. He’s bad news. He kidnapped Schneep, and like...all those bad things I told you about, that he was accused of, it was actually Anti, and Schneep got framed. I guess it’s easy to scapegoat a guy who can’t even confirm he really saw you.” He paused. “He’s got Jackie too. The police are looking for him, so I guess there’s a better chance of finding Jackie now that they know where he is. Also. The craziest thing about this is that Anti is JJ’s brother.” He laughed dryly. “God, what a coincidence, huh? Maybe fate does exist. And it’s a dick.”

He goes quiet, watching Jack. After a few minutes of silence, his eyes started to close. “Y’know I really do hope you can hear me, and you’re listening,” Chase said. Jack’s eyes automatically opened wide again. “Because then you could tell us what Anti was doing here yesterday. It would be...I guess it would make me feel a bit better, to at least know.” He took a deep breath. “But you know what? It’s gonna be okay. Eventually. It might take a while, and I’ll be honest, right now is kind of sucky, but it’s gonna get better eventually. Y’know what you used to say, positive mental attitude. The viewers are really liking that, by the way. They still miss you, of course, but I’m keeping on. But on the track of positivity, at least Schneep’s first doctor is back, so he’ll be okay, I think. Marvin’s doing good, too. JJ...well, he was freaking out a bit, about Anti...I don’t want to make assumptions, but at best, they didn’t get along, and now he’s here, so it would freak anyone out. But he’s doing a bit better, I think. Yeah. It’s all getting better. Slowly.” He blinked furiously. “For everyone else. That...that’s great.”

For a moment, he thinks he feels Jack’s fingers move. Not like they were squeezing his hand, but a movement nonetheless. He looks down, surprised, but he doesn’t think anything’s changed. Maybe he imagined it. But in any case...“Hah. Y’know I can practically hear you giving me a lecture on self-care. Yeah, I’m trying, bro. Still in a bit of a gray spot. I really am happy that everyone else is doing good, it just kinda sucks when you’re in that gray spot, you know? But I am great and I’ll get through it. Yeah.” He didn’t really believe that, but Marvin had told him that saying positive things about yourself was the first step to believing them. “I just...miss you, Jack. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

For the rest of the visit, he goes quiet, watching the heart monitor rise and fall. Things were crazy, but it would be fine. It would be.

——————

Dr. Laurens had rescheduled her sessions to be later in the day. Because quite frankly, she wanted to sleep in. And judging by the records Newson had left, the past sessions had gone all over the place in terms of what time they took place, so it wasn’t like she was interrupting a schedule. It was shortly before five o’clock when she met up with Oliver and they headed to Room 1010.

When Laurens opened the door, she saw Schneep was standing up and pacing the length of the back wall. Oliver handed her the paper cup with the medication inside, then went over to stand in the corner and try to attract as little attention as was possible for someone over six feet tall. Laurens nodded encouragingly, and walked forward. “Schneep?” She said, putting a confident tone in her voice. “Are you ready?”

Schneep jumped, and whirled around. Wariness faded away to happiness. “So it is you,” he said. “You are back. Unless this is not real too...”

“No, it’s real,” Laurens said, smiling. “I’m back. Dr. Newson won’t be handling your case anymore.” She’d actually briefly passed Newson when coming in, but hadn’t really stopped to chat. Newson briefly mentioned having an appointment with her lawyer after leaving, but Laurens hadn’t pushed. She already knew about the lawsuit anyway.

“Oh thank god,” Schneep said, relieved. “She was not...helpful.”

“That is the least you could say,” Laurens muttered. “Anyway, before we get started, I need you to...well, there’s this.” She set the paper cup down on the table.

Schneep paled, backing up. “No no no no, I have a clear head, I have energy, I will not—”

“There are no sedatives in this,” Laurens hurried to say. “I promise.” It was messed up that she had to clarify that. “It shouldn’t have that effect, and if it does, please let me know so that I can change it.” Schneep didn’t move any closer. “Dr. Newson had you taking an improper medication with much too high a dosage, so you’ll have to slowly ease off it and onto a medication that should be better.”

Schneep hesitated for a moment longer before stepping forward, picking up the paper cup, and swallowing the pill inside in one gulp. “If this is not...” He trailed off.

“It’ll be fine,” Laurens said reassuringly. “If it isn’t, you have to tell me so I can fix it, okay. Now.” She sat down on the room’s chair. “I think it’s important to give you an update.” She waited for Schneep to sit on the bed before continuing. “So, it appears as though I’ve been misunderstanding your condition. In that you actually have two of them.”

“Oh?” Schneep blinked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.” Laurens automatically reached for her journal, before remembering that she’d given it to Oliver. He’d told her yesterday that he gave it to Schneep’s friend Chase, and she had yet to ask him for it back. She was now working with some loose sheets of paper, which she spread on the table. “You are aware of your schizoaffective disorder, but now that I know more about what’s happened to you, I believe you also have some post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Schneep paused. “Ah.”

She waited for a stronger reaction, but didn't receive one. “Yes. So that will change our approach from now on.”

“Alright,” Schneep said slowly. “Is there medication for it?”

“We’re still focusing on getting you off the last one,” Laurens explained. “But perhaps I could give you some anti—” Schneep flinched “—anxiety medication later. But it can’t be treated solely with that. You understand that, right?”

Schneep nodded slowly. “What happened to your arm?”

“A-ah...well...” Laurens hesitated. “Obviously I broke it. Dislocated my wrist, too.”

“How?”

“Well...” Laurens hesitated. She didn’t know what effect it would have on Schneep if he knew everything that happened with her and Anti and Jackie. The last thing she wanted right now was to upset him. And besides, she didn’t really want to talk about it anyway. “I’ll tell you some other time, okay? For now, I want to focus on you.” She shuffled her papers. “Schneep...there’s no way to ease into this that won’t alarm you, so I’m just going to say it. Do you know Anti?”

The effect was immediate. Schneep jumped, scooting backwards on the bed. “Do not say the name!”

“Why not?” Laurens asked. “You told me once that this would give him power, right? That giving him attention would make him stronger?”

Schneep nodded, looking significantly paler.

“Well, here’s where things are difficult, Schneep,” she said patiently. “I believe that he’s a major source of trauma for you.” Because why wouldn’t he be? Laurens remembered all the things Jackie had told her about what happened to the two of them, and that would give anyone trauma. “And we need to work that out, yeah? But we can’t do that if we can’t talk about him. So. Here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll be as indirect as possible. I’ll ask you about him, and you can give answers that are as short or as long as you see fit. If at any moment you feel like we are getting...you know, too close to giving him influence, tell me and we will stop. Does that work?”

He didn’t answer for a long time, shaking slightly, eyes darting around as if looking for something. Then he nodded slowly.

“Great.” Again, Laurens wished she had her journal full of notes. It would be a lot easier to reference past events. But she was stuck with this. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you said before that An—sorry, that he makes you hurt people. Am I right?”

Schneep nodded, starting to rock softly.

That made sense with what she knew. “Does he physically take control of you? How does this happen?”

“He...” Schneep’s voice cracked. “He puts...th-thoughts in my head...a-and makes me want...to...”

And that sounded familiar. Laurens made a note of that. “So...you have thoughts about wanting to hurt people, and this is caused by him?” This sounded like some form of intrusive or otherwise unwanted thoughts, and combined with his hallucinations and delusions, he believed Anti to be behind them.

Schneep nodded. “O-or he...he would say—tell me to do something horrible, and if I did—did not do it, he would do so-something worse.”

“But you clearly don’t want to hurt anyone, right?” Laurens asked.

“No!” Schneep protested. “I never—never! I-I may be angry with some people, maybe fight, but the th-things he makes me—” He buried his head in folded arms, taking deep breaths.

“Do you want us to stop?” Laurens asked gently.

He nodded without looking up.

“Schneep.” Laurens leaned forward. She waited until he looked at her before continuing. “You know this is not your fault, right? You’ve said that to me before. Any thoughts, any actions you may have done, it is not your fault.”

“I know that,” Schneep sounded a bit irritated. “I know that, i-it is him, I just—I still worry, I still...feel...”

“I know,” Laurens said softly. “Which is why I’m going to try to give you some ways to deal with this, okay? Some ways to cope.”

“That would be...appreciated,” he muttered.

“Good. Let’s begin.” This would be a good starting point, but that’s what it was, a starting point. Laurens could already see a long path ahead. The main problem here being that Anti wasn’t actually making any of these thoughts appear in Schneep’s head. But that had to come later down the road. There was still a lot to do before that.

——————

“Hey. Wake up.”

Jackie felt something kick his side and he winced, opening his eyes. Anti was standing in front of him, looking down. He stared up at him, tensed, waiting.

“Good,” Anti nodded. “It’s time to eat. Sit up straight.”

Jackie hurried to sit up, the movement making his spine crack. He’d taken to slouching, which probably wasn’t good for his posture when he was tied to a table leg.

Anti huffed, a bit impatient. He kneeled down next to Jackie, reaching around behind him. Jackie stiffened, very deliberately not moving even as he felt the handcuffs unlock. He’d tried to run once before. Schneep had encouraged it, almost demanded that Jackie get out even if it meant leaving him behind. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d listened. And he’d almost made it out of the house. But Anti caught him right at the end, and he hadn’t been happy. Jackie was pretty sure he had some burn scars on his arm from that day. And now, in such close quarters with Anti, who hadn’t left the apartment except for once yesterday, he didn’t want to risk it.

“Alright,” Anti muttered. He’d cuffed Jackie’s right arm to the table leg, letting his left one be free. Now he stood up, grabbing a plate and cup from the table, which he set down on the floor next to Jackie. A sandwich and a glass of milk. It would do. Anti sat down on the nearest chair and pulled out his phone, glancing at Jackie every few seconds. Jackie didn’t respond, just pulled out the gag and started eating. He should hurry.

All was silent for a few minutes. Until: “Wait, what?” Anti sat up straight, eyes scanning his phone again. “That’s—ugh.” He tapped the screen a couple times, then dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. Jackie could hear it ringing from here. The moment the call was picked up, Anti started talking. “Yeah, hi, it’s me. What the fuck?” There were the faint hints of a voice on the other end. “What, did you think I’d just forget your number? No. Now what the fuck is this on the website?” Anti paused. “I think you do know what I’m talking about. I told you, I don’t do repeats.” The voice on the other end sounded angry. “Well if he survived three stab wounds, I’d say he’s earned the right to live. Besides, he hasn’t told anyone, has he? That would’ve been on the news.” Pause. “I don’t do refunds either.”

Jackie couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was he talking about? It sounded like someone hired Anti as some sort of hitman. Was that what he did in his spare time? Or maybe that was his job and this serial killer stuff was just a fun side project for him. Jackie shuddered at the thought of it.

“Well boo-fuckity-hoo for you.” Anti drawled. “Look, I get not wanting loose ends, but I’m done here. I’m busy, I have shit to do, and the cops know about me now.” A long pause as the voice on the other end talked for a while. Anti raised an eyebrow. “Give me two hundred pounds right now and I’ll consider it.” Loud shouting from the other end. “Don’t give me that shit, that’s spare change for you. Tell you what, I’ll check out the guy’s house, too.” Pause. “Yeah, if I decide I want to.” Long pause. “Great. What’s the address again?” Short pause. “No, I didn’t, that would be insane. It was a lot easier to ambush him while he was out. What’s the address.” Another pause. Anti’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, really?” The other voice said something angry. “It’s none of your business. But I’m checking my account now, if the number doesn’t go up by two hundred in the next five minutes, I’m not even gonna think about it.” He hung up the call unceremoniously, and started swiping about on the phone screen again.

Well that was...interesting. Jackie stared at Anti as he seemed to wait for something, eyes glued to his phone. After a short while, he grinned, and looked away, immediately seeing Jackie. He glared. “What’re you looking at, hoodie?”

Jackie flinched and looked away, stuffing the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Anti stood up and disappeared through a doorway, into what Jackie assumed was the bedroom area. A few minutes later he returned, wearing a gray hoodie with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He crouched on the floor next to Jackie. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” He chuckled. “No, of course not.” He grabbed Jackie’s wrist and yanked it around the table leg, causing him to cry out. Click. The handcuffs were back in place. Before Jackie could even process that, Anti was shoving the gag back in his mouth, sudden enough to make him choke a bit. “Of course, if you’re not here when I get back...” Anti didn’t have to finish that sentence.

After a moment of staring into Jackie’s eyes, making sure he got the point, Anti stood up and headed out, slamming the front door behind him.

Jackie flinched, then exhaled slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Alone. Anti would be back soon, of course, but he’d enjoy this while it lasted. Trying to relax as much as he was able while in this awkward position, he tried to drift away in the relieving silence.

——————

Anti knew this address.

He drove there, parking some ways away and walking the rest of the way. The neighborhood immediately looked familiar, and by the time he reached the address, he knew where he was going, and wasn’t surprised to stop outside the house of Marvin Maher.

Marvin wasn’t someone he was particularly interested in. He knew enough to get a grasp on him...which was admittedly a lot. 28 years old, Irish, currently unemployed, no living relatives aside from his grandmother, has two cats and a snake, and was a practicing Wiccan. Though those were just the facts. In personality, Marvin was stubborn, loud, very visible with his emotions, and had some difficulty in social situations.

And again, though that was a lot, Anti wasn’t particularly interested in him. Not compared to the other one, Chase. Ironic, considering that for all intents and purposes, Chase lived a much less exciting life. He didn’t go anywhere, had an ex-wife and kids, and ran two YouTube channels for “work:” his own channel, BroAverage, and the one that belonged to his coma-bound friend, jacksepticeye. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so ordinary, stuck in this extraordinary situation, that fascinated him.

But he wasn’t here to find out more about Chase. Anti wasn’t usually one to try again on a job, since it increased his chance of being found, and anonymity was his greatest shield. He’d only decided to consider it due to already being known to the police in this city—a fact that he cursed that doctor lady for every day since she escaped. But now, realizing who his target was made this much more interesting.

Anti circled around the house, scouting it. Looking into the rooms, it appeared empty. All the windows were locked pretty securely, as was the front door...but not so much the side door. He twisted the knob and pulled it open. It looked like a chest of drawers had been pressed against the door from the other side, perhaps to prevent it from opening. He chuckled. This door had a spring hinge; it swung both ways. It also didn’t appear to have a functioning lock. Good, he was happy he didn’t have to pick his way inside and risk someone noticing that.

He pushed the chest of drawers to the side and entered the house, finding himself at the end of a hallway with a door to the left and right. Once inside, he carefully pulled the door shut and replaced the drawers; he could find another exit. The hall opened up into a living room. Anti walked down, careful to tread only where the carpet was worn down so his footsteps wouldn’t stand out. The living room was about normal, its main feature being the snake terrarium. He stared at the snake inside for a bit, but it appeared to be asleep. Huh, he didn’t know snakes could be purple. Mentally making a note to look that up later, he noticed another hallway branching off the living room, and was about to head there when something caught his eye.

A turquoise notebook was lying on the coffee table, looking quite out of place with the rest of Marvin’s decorations. Odd. Was that someone else’s? Anti frowned, and idly picked it up, skimming the pages. There was something tucked inside...a plastic keycard? He looked over the handwritten notes, not paying much attention until he saw a familiar name: Schneep.

He immediately started paying attention to this journal. What was this? He flipped back to the beginning, seeing a name written on the inside cover: Dr. Rya Laurens.

That doctor lady. Anti narrowed his eyes. Was this her notebook? Why did Marvin have it? What was in it? Was he mentioned in it anywhere?

He took his backpack off his shoulders and slid the notebook and its keycard inside. And then he looked up, and happened to glance out the window. Luckily he did in time, because he saw people coming up the front path.

Instinct kicked in and he looked around for the nearest exit. The back window. It only had a latch to lock it. Quickly he ran over, threw it open, and jumped outside, closing it behind him. Now in the backyard, he stayed low, backing up.

Once he was pressed against the fence of the house behind this one, Anti dared to straighten just enough to look through the window into the living room. It appeared as though Marvin had come home. He’d also brought a friend, the only one of the group that he didn’t actually know the name of. That annoyed him. But he just hadn’t seen the others with him that often, and looking up Chase and Marvin on social media, this guy didn’t appear in many photos, and the ones he did show up in never mentioned him by name or tagged an account. All he knew about this last friend was that he had a nice mustache and spoke BSL.

He watched as Marvin set a folder down on the coffee table, apparently not noticing the missing notebook. Marvin started talking with his friend, the two of them signing quickly. Anti huffed. God, it had been so long since he’d had to understand sign language. Not since—Anti stiffened, and pushed that thought away.

The point was, now this group would be forcing him to relearn it. He watched the two inside have an animated conversation, picking up the word ‘doctor’ a lot. It didn’t seem like an argument, but it was very...passionate. Expressions changed rapidly. Marvin made a sign, the letter J twice in a row—

Anti froze, staring. Not caring if he was visible.

He had to have imagined that, didn’t he? Marvin couldn’t have just made that sign. But no, he’d seen that, clear as day. But maybe...maybe the sign meant something different in this context. It couldn’t be…

He looked more closely at the friend he didn’t know the name of. This whole group looked similar, looked like him. That was weird, but it didn’t...didn’t mean...

The friend leaned forward, and something silver flashed. A silver disk on a matching chain around his neck. Anti stared at it, and reached up to where he wore a similar disk on a chain. He’d recognize that anywhere. It wasn’t just a silver circle, it was a watch, and he now grabbed his tightly.

Well, it wasn’t his, technically. It was his brother’s.

——————

“So how do names work in sign language, then?” Aneirin asked. “Are you supposed to sign them all out? With letters?”

Jameson picked up his pencil and started writing, showing him the result. Goodness, no, that would take forever. There are these things called name signs, which are unique sign combinations for people. Those are their names.

They were sitting in the living room of Aneirin’s house, legs pulled up onto the old sofa he’d gotten from the side of the road. It was in pretty good condition, for one that had a ‘Free’ sign taped to it. Eighteen and a homeowner would’ve been impressive for anyone else, but Aneirin had sped through the steps to getting it, knowing he needed a place to stay as soon as possible. He was sure that if the realtor knew where he’d gotten the money to pay for it, he never would’ve sold it to him.

“Okay, so what would mine be, then?” Aneirin asked, spreading out along the length of the sofa. “Do I get to choose it?”

Jameson considered this, and Aneirin watched him silently. His little brother was sixteen, and very thin and small, pulling into the corner of the sofa like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. Well, I think I have an idea for what I could call you. You can tell me if you don’t like it. He made the sign for the letter A, and followed it with another sign, curling his hands into fists and rubbing them against each other.

“Well, it depends on what it means,” Aneirin joked.

Jameson chuckled a bit. It’s just the letter A followed by the sign for “brother.”

“Oh.” Aneirin gasped softly. Then a wide smile broke across his face. “Yeah, I like that.” He paused. “Do you have one?”

Yes! I chose one, but no one’s ever used it. He signed the letter J twice.

Aneirin blinked. “That’s it? That’s just...JJ.”

Well it’s my initials, Jameson pointed out. I like the sound of it.

“Okay,” Aneirin said slowly. He copied the sign. “But when would I ever need to call you that? Instead of just saying it.”

You are saying it, just in sign, Jameson wrote. But I thought that, if you can’t talk after a bad seizing, you could use BSL.

“Uh...no, I don’t think so.” Aneirin frowned. “The problem is that after a seizure I’m confused. It’s not that I can’t talk because my muscles don’t work, but cause I don’t know where the fuck I am.”

Oh. Well, think about it, Jameson said. You need to at least learn it to understand me.

“Yeah, I know.” Aneirin smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be easy.”

——————

“Jamie! Don’t walk away from me!”

Jameson whirled on him. Don’t call me that!

“What? Jamie?” Aneirin blinked. “That’s your name!”

It’s a nickname, Jameson signed furiously. And it’s a childish one.

“Oh, what, I can’t call my little brother a nickname now?” Aneirin scoffed.

That’s not just it! Jameson protested. I’m not a kid, Aneirin! I’m twenty-one years old, I am an adult, and you don’t treat me like it.

“Okay, yes, legally that’s true,” Aneirin said. “But there’s more to being an adult than age. There’s experience. I mean, look at you. You can’t drive, you don’t have a job, you’ve never dated anyone. There’s just a lot that you don’t understand.”

I don’t know how to drive because you never taught me! Jameson stepped up to Aneirin, throwing his hands in his face. I don’t have a job because you won’t let me get one! And you’ve never dated anyone either, so I don’t see how you can say anything about that. And even if you had, you turn away every guy I’m interested in. You go through my messages to make sure I don’t say anything “inappropriate” in my own private messages! I need to live my own life, Aneirin.

“I...” Aneirin was at a loss for words. He couldn’t remember the last time Jameson had gotten this angry, and it was never directed at him. “Look, you’re...twenty-one is still pretty young, and with your condition—”

You’re only two years older than me, Jameson signed sharply. And don’t talk to me about how my disability means I can’t handle most jobs, I’m sick of hearing it from you. You can’t expect me to help you dispose of a body and at the same time say I couldn’t deal with working in an office. And it’s absurd that you involve me in the former in the FIRST PLACE!

Aneirin shook his head silently. What was there to say to this? What was there to say when his little brother was angry with him? With words failing, he fell upon action. And he started crying.

Jameson’s expression, previously so furious, turned to shock. Aneirin didn’t cry. Nothing ever seemed to phase him. The sight was concerning. No no, don’t—it’s okay, it’s fine, Jameson hurried to sign.

“I just—just don’t want anything—I just want you to be safe,” Aneirin gasped, vision blurring with tears. “I’m trying—trying to make sure you’re safe, a-and happy, and...am I failing? Am I a bad brother?”

No, you’re a good brother, Jameson reassured him. You just...made some mistakes.

“I’m just—th-this is dangerous, what I do.” Aneirin looked down, hiding his eyes in his hands. “People could—could come after you, to get to me, and—and I can’t let that happen, Jamie, JJ, I can’t—I’m sorry if you think I’m stifling you or something, I just—”

Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine. Really. I just...had some things to get off my chest. Jameson put his hands on Aneirin’s shoulders reassuringly and smiled.

“Are you sure?” Aneirin asked, wiping his eyes.

Yes, it’s fine, Jameson signed. We can talk this over later, work things out. I’m sorry for upsetting you.

“It’s alright, JJ,” Anti said, smiling.

——————

It really should’ve been obvious from the start. What were the odds of him running into someone else who looked like him and spoke BSL? But the possibility hadn’t even occurred to Anti. Because for four years now, he’d thought his brother Jamie had been dead.

But he was wrong. Jameson wasn’t dead. Jameson was alive, and friends with Chase and Marvin and probably involved with all this, all Anti’s plans.

Anti backed up, then turned around and jumped over the fence into the house behind Marvin’s. He took off in a run.

——————

The door slammed open, and Jackie startled awake. Anti stormed in, furious. Jackie tried not to cry out when his attention turned towards him, backing up as best as he was able.

“You.” Anti grabbed Jackie by the front of the hoodie and pulled out his gag. “Tell me this. Do you know a man named Jameson Jackson?”

Jameson? Jackie’s heart stopped. What did Anti want with him?

“Answer me!” Anti threw him backwards, and Jackie’s head slammed against the table with a painful crack. “Tell me if you know him or I’ll cut your fingers off one by one.”

“I do, I do,” Jackie gasped. “I know him.”

“How?” Anti demanded. “How do you know him?”

“We—we met him last October,” Jackie explained. “Marvin met him. At the theatre. They started talking, and—and we all met him.”

Anti stared at him a while longer, then suddenly let go, dropping him to the floor. Jackie felt his heart racing. He turned and watched Anti pacing the length of the room.

“Not expecting this,” Anti was muttering. “Unexpected—unexpected variable. Can’t control this. Can’t control for this.” He reached up and grabbed the watch around his neck. “It’ll work. Work around it. Work around—Jamie.” The last word was strong with emotion.

Anti hurried out of the room into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. Jackie flinched. What was Anti planning? It...couldn’t be good for anyone. Especially not Jameson.

Well he couldn’t do anything about it in his current position. He was just worried about surviving. So Jackie tried to put it out of his mind. Yet...there was one thing he couldn’t forget. Had he been imagining it, or had there been tears in Anti’s eyes?

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

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gothic-safari-clown · 3 years

Text

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part Twelve: It’s Time

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven

Word count: 2524

Trigger warning for needles and toxin-induced self harm.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jonathan asked from the kitchen for the third time in two days. Elianna rolled her eyes; she was getting sick of this conversation. "I think you're the only person who would do it voluntarily."

"You did it," she pointed out nonchalantly, around a mouthful of ice cream. She hoped he was making dinner; the dessert wouldn't hold her over forever. The day before, the two had visited her apartment ("why do you have so many plants?" "I don't know, but I'm glad I do, the air quality here is garbage.") to retrieve some perishables from the kitchen so that they didn't have to go grocery shopping.

"I did it for research. I didn't have a choice at the time. You do."

"Okay, look," El stood from the couch and joined him in the kitchen. "The chance of learning how to break down fear is just too promising to pass up," she said earnestly. "If there is even the slightest possibility of a positive outcome, I have to do it. Since I was attacked, I've just been getting more and more paranoid, and I thought it would go away once we started using it on Zsasz, but it hasn't. And paranoia is just going to turn into anxiety, which is going to turn into fear, and I just can't handle that." Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Elianna.

"I know that there are better ways to prevent that, but if I'm going to be joining you on this project anyway, then I should get an idea of what I'm in for in case of any accidents! I mean, I appreciate that you're worried, but I just don't understand why you don't think I can do this."

Jonathan sighed and rubbed his forehead, leaning against the counter; he knew that she was right, but...

"Because I don't know what it will do to your psyche. When I built up my immunity, it wasn't on purpose, and we have no way of knowing if it will do the same for you." El mulled it over, carefully considering what he had to say.

"I understand. But like I said, would you rather me be exposed here, in a controlled, safe environment, or on accident at a time when it really matters? It's almost guaranteed to happen anyway, so I still think that I should at least know what to expect." She reiterated resolutely. "We're doing this."

Jonathan saw the firm determination in her eyes and knew that at this point, there was no way to talk her out of it. If he didn't expose her to it, she would do it herself, and the results could be infinitely worse than if he just went along with it.

But that didn't mean that he had to be happy about it.

"Fine." He lifted himself from the counter and turned to continue what he had been doing before—making dinner, I knew it! El put her ice cream away before sitting on the counter, swinging her legs a little. "I know you're bored, but do you have to...hover?"

"I don't have anything else to do! If you have any ideas, I'd be happy to hear them."

"You could go out or something; I don't know. Look at you, go to any bar you don't even need to take any money. Someone would cover your tab." He sounded almost bitter. What's that about?

"Yeah, that's a great idea. When I get murdered, then you wouldn't have to give me the toxin." She shot back.

"I thought you had a guardian angel."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that guy. I wonder what he's up to."

"I don't care." God, what is he so upset about?

"You probably will in a few months. Maybe we should follow the news more closely." Nothing. El let out a short breath. Fine. "I know you don't want to talk about it anymore," she started quietly, "and I'm sorry that I'm making you do it." He didn't turn to look at her or even stop what he was doing when he spoke.

"You don't have to apologize. I understand why you want to do it, and I do want to help. I just wish you had taken the time to think about it before your decision."

"Fine, but I've thought it through now."

"I know. Since you're so sure, we can start tomorrow after work."

"Here?" He nodded.

"You'll want to be comfortable when it wears off, trust me." El smiled and slid off the counter. Satisfied with the way the conversation turned out, she went to take a shower.

"No going back now," She called over her shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

.xXx.

It was a slow day. A really, really, really slow day.

"Seriously, universe? Today?" El groaned, spinning back and forth in her chair idly. Of all days, why was she only assigned one session today? She had forgotten to check her schedule before leaving the previous day, so she hadn't even known that she could go in late. I hate looking forward to things.

For the time being, she resorted herself to see how fast she could spin her chair without knocking it over and found very quickly that the answer was 'too fast.' Way too fast. Already bored of that, she laid her head on the desk, trying to think of anything she could do. Finally, she decided to go on a walk, see if she could find Harley or Jonathan.

It took a while of wandering before El finally caught sight of blonde hair crossing the upstairs foyer from the west wing to the east wing. "Harley!" She called after her friend, jogging slightly to catch up. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Real good!" The blonde seemed more excited than usual. "I just got assigned to one of the maximum-security cases!"

"Oh, that's great!" El forced a smile, suddenly very worried about her friend. She had been assigned a max security case with Zsasz based on her work record, and it hadn't exactly ended up well.

"I know! I've been waitin' ages to get a career-making case finally, and I finally got one! I got my first session with her tomorrow." Her?

"Who is it?"

"She goes by Poison Ivy; she's an eco-terrorist. She's got this connection with plants. Apparently, she can control them, and she goes after organizations that harm the environment."

"Well, she sounds like a badass; you'll have to let me know how it goes."

"Of course, I will. They're gonna write books about me." Harley looked at El with bright eyes, and the redhead couldn't help but smile at the thought of her friend's face plastered on a biography all over Gotham.

"Just make sure to be careful okay, those guys are in maximum security for a reason." El found herself subconsciously moving the hair that fell over her forehead, where she would surely have a scar.

"Don't you worry about me, honey. What are you doin' today?"

"Apparently nothing for another few hours." Elianna sighed.

"Aw. Anything interesting?" She shook her head in response.

"I think Jonathan asked them to keep the dangerous ones away from me until I have more experience here. I mean, Zsasz didn't kill me. It's not like I'm helpless, right? I was savvy enough to get away twice." Harley bobbed her head in agreement with a sympathetic look.

"Well, maybe he's right; you're new in Gotham. It might not be a bad idea to let you settle in a while longer."

"Yeah, but now I'm only treating patients with borderline anxiety disorders. Borderline, Harls!"

"Aw," the blonde tsked and patted her friend's arm. "I'm sorry, honey, it'll get better. Oh, shoot!" She checked her watch. "I gotta go, I'm gonna be late. Maybe we should get lunch this weekend, whaddya think?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice. Go on. I'll talk to you later." El sighed as Harley rushed off to her appointment. That didn't last nearly long enough. She was now stuck where she had been before and made her way back to her office.

Who would have thought there would be so little to do in the most notorious asylum in America?

.xXx.

Finally, the end of the day came, but Jonathan's awful speed limit driving made Elianna antsy. She was so close. Besides all of the reasons she had given Jonathan over the last few days, she couldn't help but be curious about what it was like to be under the influence of the fear toxin. Seeing Zsasz's reaction had sparked an interest in the experience, although she couldn't fathom why.

"It's weird, isn't it?" She asked half an hour later as she helped Jonathan put leftover takeout in the fridge.

"What is?"

"Coincidence. Probability. Chaos theory."

"You need to stop watching Jurassic Park. It's turning you into a monster."

"Over my dead body, and you know what I mean." Jonathan closed the fridge as they finished and looked at her expectantly. "Well, my mom and I just happened to move to Arlen, out of all the places we were looking at. Then we happened to move down the road from you, and we had some classes in common. And even after all that, I still could have been really shitty and tormented you, or ignored you, or you could have been successful in keeping me away. Then we still managed to stay in touch after high school from opposite sides of the country, which is super rare, even in friends, and on top of all that we happen to have the same interests, and now here we are working in the same place after all of that, which led to tonight. To the decision I made."

Jonathan considered her words, leaning back against the counter, eventually nodding in agreement.

"It's not too late." He said quietly. "You can still change your mind."

"I'm not having seconds thoughts." El insisted gently, standing next to him and leaning her head against his arm. "Actually, I was thinking about how lucky I am to have this opportunity. Do you know how many people would jump at the chance to confront their fears? To try and fix themselves?

"Yes, I do, and it's not a good thing." El looked up at him, surprised by the empathy. "If no one were affected by fear, then none of this would be possible, and I wouldn't be able to continue my research." El stared at him in incredulous silence before laughing.

"Because that's what it all comes down to. You're really fucked up, honey."

"Look who's talking." He said with a little smile. He couldn't put it off any longer. Scarecrow was ecstatic that Elianna had volunteered for this, and it was giving him a headache. "Come on, let's get started. I'm going to give you a small dose, so hopefully, you'll be able to sleep afterward." El nodded as they straightened up, making their way to the bedroom.

She could hear Jonathan adjusting the bedsheets while she was in the closet, putting on more comfortable clothes. When she came out, he had folded them all to the end of the bed so that she wouldn't get tangled.

"I'm going to say this in advance: shut up." El gave him a confused look as he opened the false bottom of his briefcase and produced a set of four restraint cuffs that were usually attached to the medical beds, at which point she raised an eyebrow. "We needed a way to holds your limbs down so that you don't hurt either of us, just...don't." He said exasperatedly as he began to affix them to the head and footboards. El snorted, with a little smile; there was nothing she could say to make fun of him that Scarecrow probably wasn't saying already.

"Do people...hurt themselves often?" Jonathan nodded.

"Once or twice, they try to gouge out their own eyes, things like that." El swallowed herd, suddenly very glad to have such a thorough friend. "Which reminds me, I didn't think about it earlier, but I do have neighbors. We'll need to find something for you to bite down on; I've also had people bite through their own tongues." At that, El shivered and returned to her duffle bag, where she knew she had packed an old belt.

"How often would you say that happens?"

"Not too much, but it does make a mess, and we sleep here." Despite her sudden nervousness, El laughed softly at the ever-tactful Jonathan Crane. Normally she might be upset with him after that comment, but here she was volunteering for that risk.

She set the belt on the edge of the bed and positioned herself in the middle of the mattress, trying to prepare herself for something from which she didn't have a clear idea of what to expect. Gently, Jonathan lifted her head and slid a pillow underneath; the small act of care made her smile to herself as he continued to secure her wrists and ankles, careful not to tighten the restraints too much.

He took a few extra minutes to prepare the serum, during which she agreed to let him take notes. If they were moving ahead with this anyway, he might as well conduct his research on a new subject.

Jonathan was just about to put the belt in her mouth when El had a sudden thought, turning her face away. "Scarecrow, he's under control? He isn't going to try anything, is he?"

"No. He's excited, but he promised to be good. And he's impressed that you're doing this willingly." Satisfied with the answer, El nodded and let the belt between her teeth, biting down securely.

At that point, Jonathan prepared the syringe with a translucent fluid, flicking the chamber and getting rid of any air bubbles. "This is an old batch, so the effects might be a little less intense than they would normally be." Unable to speak, El nodded. He swabbed clean a patch of skin on her arm and gave her a look, giving her one last chance to change her mind. With no fault in her resolution, he finally pricked her vein and injected the serum into her bloodstream.

The concoction was thick, and El could feel it burning through her veins for only a moment

and then everything took a turn for the worse.

#The Mind’s Power Over the Body #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #batman begins #Nolanverse #Elianna Montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #slight au #fanfiction #multi chapter fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #Attraction To The Insane #tmpotb chapter 12

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blackkudos · 4 years

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Janet Jackson

Janet Damita Jo Jackson (born May 16, 1966) is an American singer, songwriter, actress, and dancer. A prominent figure in popular culture, she is known for sonically innovative, socially conscious and sexually provocative records, and elaborate stage shows.

The tenth and youngest child of the Jackson family, she began her career with the variety television series The Jacksons in 1976 and went on to appear in other television shows throughout the 1970s and early 1980s, including Good Times, Diff'rent Strokes, and Fame. After signing a recording contract with A&M Records in 1982, she became a pop icon following the release of her third and fourth studio albums Control (1986) and Rhythm Nation 1814 (1989). Her collaborations with record producers Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis incorporated elements of rhythm and blues, funk, disco, rap and industrial beats, which led to crossover success in popular music.

In 1991, Jackson signed the first of two record-breaking multimillion-dollar contracts with Virgin Records, establishing her as one of the highest-paid artists in the industry. Her fifth album Janet (1993) saw her develop a public image as a sex symbol as she began to explore sexuality in her music. That same year, she appeared in her first starring film role in Poetic Justice, and has since continued to act in feature films. Jackson then released her sixth studio album The Velvet Rope (1997), which is distinguished for its innovative production and dark lyrical content. By the end of the 1990s, she was named by Billboard magazine as the second most successful recording artist of the decade after Mariah Carey. Her seventh album All for You (2001) coincided with a celebration of her impact on the recording industry as the inaugural MTV Icon. After parting ways with Virgin Records, she released her tenth album Discipline (2008), her first and only album with Island Records. In 2015, she partnered with BMG Rights Management to launch her own record label, Rhythm Nation, and released her eleventh album Unbreakable the same year.

Having sold over 100 million records, Jackson is one of the world's best-selling music artists of all time. She has amassed an extensive catalog, with singles such as "Nasty", "Rhythm Nation", "That's the Way Love Goes", "Together Again" and "All for You"; she holds the record for the most consecutive top-ten entries on the US Billboard Hot 100 singles chart by a female artist with 18. In 2008, Billboard placed her number seven on its list of the Hot 100 All-Time Top Artists, and in 2010 ranked her fifth among the "Top 50 R&B/Hip-Hop Artists of the Past 25 Years". In December 2016, the magazine named her the second most successful dance club artist of all-time after Madonna. She has been cited as an inspiration among numerous performers. Jackson was inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2019.

Life and career

1966–1985: Early life and career beginnings

Janet Jackson was born on May 16, 1966 in Gary, Indiana, the youngest of ten children, to Katherine Esther (née Scruse) and Joseph Walter Jackson. The Jacksons were lower-middle class and devout Jehovah's Witnesses, although Jackson would later refrain from organized religion. At a young age, her brothers began performing as the Jackson 5 in the Chicago-Gary area.

In March 1969, the group signed a record deal with Motown, and soon had their first number-one hit. The family then moved to the Encino neighborhood of Los Angeles. Jackson had initially desired to become a horse racing jockey or entertainment lawyer, with plans to support herself through acting. Despite this, she was anticipated to pursue a career in entertainment and considered the idea after recording herself in the studio.

At age seven, Jackson performed at the MGM Casino on the Las Vegas Strip. A biography revealed her father, Joseph Jackson, was emotionally withdrawn and told her to address him solely by his first name as a child. She began acting in the variety show The Jacksons in 1976.

In 1977, she was selected to have a starring role as Penny Gordon Woods in the sitcom Good Times. She later starred in A New Kind of Family and later got a recurring role on Diff'rent Strokes, portraying Charlene Duprey from seasons three to six. Jackson also played the role of Cleo Hewitt during the fourth season of Fame, but expressed indifference towards the series, largely due to the emotional stress of her secret marriage to R&B singer, James DeBarge. Jackson later elaborated on her time on the show in an interview with Anderson Cooper, revealing that the cast would occasionally play pranks on her, but she spoke fondly of them.

When Jackson was sixteen, her father and manager Joseph Jackson, arranged a contract for her with A&M Records. Her debut album, Janet Jackson, was released in 1982. It was produced by Angela Winbush, René Moore, Bobby Watson of Rufus and Leon Sylvers III, and overseen by her father Joseph. It peaked at No. 63 on the Billboard 200, and No. 6 on the publication's R&B albums chart, receiving little promotion. The album appeared on the Billboard Top Black Albums of 1983, while Jackson herself was the highest-ranking female vocalist on the Billboard Year-End Black Album Artists.

Jackson's second album, Dream Street, was released two years later. Dream Street reached No. 147 on the Billboard 200, and No. 19 on the R&B albums chart. The lead single "Don't Stand Another Chance" peaked at No. 9 on Billboard's R&B singles chart. Both albums consisted primarily of bubblegum pop music.

1986–1988: Control

After her second album, Jackson terminated business affairs with her family, commenting "I just wanted to get out of the house, get out from under my father, which was one of the most difficult things that I had to do." Attempting a third album, Jackson teamed with producers Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. They set out to achieve crossover pop appeal, while also creating a strong foundation within the urban market. Within six weeks, Jackson and the duo crafted her third studio album, Control, released in February 1986. The album shot to No. 1 on the Billboard 200, and was certified fivefold platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), selling over ten million copies worldwide.

Control was declared "remarkably nervy and mature" for a teenage act, also considered "an alternative to the sentimental balladry" which permeated radio, likening Jackson to Donna Summer's position of "unwilling to accept novelty status and taking her own steps to rise above it." The album spawned five top five singles, "What Have You Done for Me Lately", "Nasty", "When I Think of You", "Control", and "Let's Wait Awhile", and a top 15 hit with "The Pleasure Principle". "When I Think of You" became her first No. 1 hit on the Hot 100. Control received six Billboard Awards, including "Top Pop Singles Artist", and three Grammy nominations, most notably "Album of the Year". It also won four American Music Awards from twelve nominations, an unbroken record.

At this point, Jackson was successfully "shaking off the experience of being a shadow Jackson child", becoming "an artist in her own right". The album's lyrical content included several themes of empowerment, inspired by an incident of sexual harassment, with Jackson recalling "the danger hit home when a couple of guys started stalking me on the street and instead of running to Jimmy or Terry for protection, I took a stand. I backed them down. That's how songs like 'Nasty' and 'What Have You Done for Me Lately' were born, out of a sense of self-defense."

Its innovative fusion of dance-pop and industrial music with hip-hop and R&B undertones influenced the development of the new jack swing genre by bridging the gap between the latter two styles. The accompanying music videos shot for the album's singles became popular on MTV, and obtained a then-unknown Paula Abdul a recording contract for her choreography work with Jackson. Billboard stated "[Jackson's] accessible sound and spectacularly choreographed videos were irresistible to MTV, and helped the channel evolve from rock programming to a broader, beat-driven musical mix."

1989–1992: Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814

Jackson released her fourth album, Rhythm Nation 1814, in September 1989. Although her record label desired a direct sequel to Control, Jackson chose to include a socially conscious theme among various musical styles. She stated, "I know an album or a song can't change the world. I just want my music and my dance to catch the audience's attention, and to hold it long enough for them to listen to the lyrics." The album's central theme of unity was developed in response to various crimes and tragedies reported in the media.

Peaking at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, the album was certified sixfold platinum by the RIAA and sold over 12 million copies worldwide. Rolling Stone observed Jackson's artistic growth shifted from "personal freedom to more universal concerns—injustice, illiteracy, crime, drugs—without missing a beat." The album was also considered "the exclamation point on her career", consisting of a "diverse collection of songs flowing with the natural talent Jackson possesses", which effectively "expanded Janet's range in every conceivable direction", being "more credibly feminine, more crucially masculine, more viably adult, more believably childlike." With singles "Miss You Much", "Rhythm Nation", "Escapade", "Alright", "Come Back to Me", "Black Cat" and "Love Will Never Do (Without You)", it became the only album in history to produce number one hits in three separate calendar years, as well as the only album to achieve seven top five singles on the Hot 100.

Famous for its choreography and warehouse setting, the "Rhythm Nation" video is considered one of the most iconic and popular in history, with Jackson's military ensemble also making her a fashion icon. The video for "Love Will Never Do (Without You)" is notable for being the first instance of Jackson's transition into sexual imagery and midriff-baring style, becoming her trademark. Rhythm Nation 1814 became the highest selling album of 1990, winning a record fifteen Billboard Awards. The long-form "Rhythm Nation" music video won a Grammy Award.

Jackson's Rhythm Nation World Tour 1990 became the most successful debut tour in history and set a record for the fastest sell-out of Japan's Tokyo Dome. She established the "Rhythm Nation Scholarship," donating funds from the tour to various educational programs. As Jackson began her tour, she was acknowledged for the cultural impact of her music. Joel Selvin of the San Francisco Chronicle wrote "the 23-year-old has been making smash hit records for four years, becoming a fixture on MTV and a major role model to teenage girls across the country", and William Allen, then-executive vice president of the United Negro College Fund, told the Los Angeles Times, "Jackson is a role model for all young people to emulate and the message she has gotten to the young people of this country through the lyrics of 'Rhythm Nation 1814' is having positive effects."

She also received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in recognition of her impact on the recording industry and philanthropic endeavors. The massive success experienced by Jackson placed her in league with Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Tina Turner for her achievements and influence. Ebony magazine remarked: "No individual or group has impacted the world of entertainment as have Michael and Janet Jackson," arguing that despite many imitators, few could surpass Jackson's "stunning style and dexterity."

With her recording contract under A&M Records fulfilled in 1991, she signed a multimillion-dollar deal with Virgin Records—estimated between thirty-two to fifty million dollars—making her the highest paid recording artist at the time. The recording contract also established her reputation as the "Queen of Pop." In 1992, Jackson provided guest vocals on Luther Vandross's "The Best Things in Life Are Free", becoming a top ten Billboard hit and reaching the top ten internationally.

1993–1996: Janet, Poetic Justice, and Design of a Decade

Jackson's fifth studio album Janet, was released in May 1993. The record opened at number one on the Billboard 200, making Jackson the first female artist in the Nielsen SoundScan era to do so. Certified sixfold platinum by the RIAA, it sold over 14 million copies worldwide.

Janet spawned five singles and four promotional singles, receiving various certifications worldwide. The lead single "That's the Way Love Goes" won the Grammy Award for Best R&B Song and topped the Billboard Hot 100 for eight consecutive weeks. "Again" reached number one for two weeks, while "If" and "Any Time, Any Place" peaked in the top four. "Because of Love" and "You Want This" charted within the top ten.

The album experimented with a diverse number of genres, including contemporary R&B, deep house, swing jazz, hip hop, rock, and pop, with Billboard describing each as being "delivered with consummate skill and passion." Jackson took a larger role in songwriting and production than she did on her previous albums, explaining she found it necessary "to write all the lyrics and half of the melodies" while also speaking candidly about incorporating her sexuality into the album's content. Rolling Stone wrote "[a]s princess of America's black royal family, everything Janet Jackson does is important. Whether proclaiming herself in charge of her life, as she did on Control (1986), or commander in chief of a rhythm army dancing to fight society's problems (Rhythm Nation 1814, from 1989), she's influential. And when she announces her sexual maturity, as she does on her new album, Janet., it's a cultural moment."

In July 1993, Jackson made her film debut in Poetic Justice. While the film received mixed reviews, her performance was described as "beguiling" and "believably eccentric." Jackson's ballad "Again", which was written for the film, received Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations for "Best Original Song."

In September 1993, Jackson appeared topless on the cover of Rolling Stone, with her breasts covered by her then-husband, René Elizondo, Jr. The photograph is the original version of the cropped image used on the Janet album cover, shot by Patrick Demarchelier. The Vancouver Sun reported, "Jackson, 27, remains clearly established as both role model and sex symbol; the Rolling Stone photo of Jackson ... became one of the most recognizable, and most lampooned, magazine covers."

The Janet World Tour launched in support of the studio album garnered criticism for Jackson's lack of vocal proficiency and spontaneity, but earned critical acclaim for her showmanship. It was described as erasing the line between "stadium-size pop music concerts and full-scale theatrical extravaganzas."

During this time, her brother Michael was immersed in a child sex abuse scandal, of which he denied any wrongdoing. She provided moral support, defending her brother, and denied abuse allegations regarding her parents made by her sister La Toya.

She collaborated with Michael on "Scream", the lead single from his album HIStory, released 1995. The song was written by both siblings as a response to media scrutiny. It debuted at number five on the Hot 100 singles chart, becoming the first song ever to debut within the top five. Its music video, directed by Mark Romanek, was broadcast to approximately 64 million viewers and listed in Guinness World Records as the "Most Expensive Music Video Ever Made", costing $7 million. The clip won the 1996 Grammy Award for Best Short Form Music Video.

Jackson's first compilation album, Design of a Decade: 1986–1996, was released in 1995. It peaked at number three on the Billboard 200. The lead single, "Runaway", became the first song by a female artist to debut within the top ten of the Hot 100, reaching number three. Design of a Decade 1986/1996 was certified double platinum by the RIAA and sold ten million copies worldwide.

Jackson's influence in pop music continued to garner acclaim, as The Boston Globe remarked "If you're talking about the female power elite in pop, you can't get much higher than Janet Jackson, Bonnie Raitt, Madonna and Yoko Ono. Their collective influence ... is beyond measure. And who could dispute that Janet Jackson now has more credibility than brother Michael?"

Jackson renewed her contract with Virgin Records for a reported $80 million the following year. The contract established her as the then highest-paid recording artist in history, surpassing the recording industry's then-unparalleled $60 million contracts earned by Michael Jackson and Madonna.

1997–1999: The Velvet Rope

Jackson began suffering from severe depression and anxiety, leading her to chronicle the experience in her sixth album, The Velvet Rope, released October 1997. Jackson returned with a dramatic change in image, boasting vibrant red hair, nasal piercings, and tattoos. The album is primarily centered on the idea that everyone has an intrinsic need to belong. Aside from encompassing lyrics relating to social issues such as same-sex relationships, homophobia and domestic violence, it also contains themes of sadomasochism and is considered far more sexually explicit in nature than her previous release, Janet.

The record was hailed as "her most daring, elaborate and accomplished album" by The New York Times, while Billboard ranked it as "the best American album of the year and the most empowering of her last five." The album debuted at number one on the Billboard 200 and was certified triple platinum, selling over ten million worldwide.

The lead single "Got 'til It's Gone" was released in August 1997, featuring guest vocals from folk singer Joni Mitchell and rapper Q-Tip. The song's music video, depicting a pre-Apartheid celebration, won the Grammy Award for Best Short Form Music Video. "Together Again" became Jackson's eighth number-one hit on the Billboard Hot 100, placing her on par with Elton John, Diana Ross, and the Rolling Stones. It spent a record forty-six weeks on the Hot 100 and nineteen weeks on the United Kingdom's singles chart. It sold six million copies worldwide, becoming one of the best-selling singles of all time. "I Get Lonely" peaked at number three on the Hot 100, and received a Grammy nomination for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance. It was Jackson's eighteenth consecutive top ten hit, making her the only female artist to garner that achievement; and surpassed only by Elvis Presley and the Beatles.

Several other singles were released, including "Go Deep" and the ballad "Every Time", which was controversial for the nudity displayed in its music video. The album fully established Jackson as a gay icon for its themes regarding homosexuality and protesting homophobia. "Together Again", a "post-Aids pop song", and "Free Xone", considered "a paean to homosexuality" and an "anti-homophobia track", were praised for their lyrical context, in addition to Jackson's lesbian reinterpretation of Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night".

The Velvet Rope received an award for "Outstanding Music Album" at the 9th Annual GLAAD Media Awards and was honored by the National Black Lesbian and Gay Leadership Forum. A portion of the proceeds from "Together Again" were donated to the American Foundation for AIDS Research.

Jackson embarked on The Velvet Rope Tour, traveling to Europe, North America, Asia, Africa, New Zealand, and Australia. The tour received praise for its theatrics, choreography, and Jackson's vocal performance. It was likened to "the ambition and glamour of a Broadway musical", and exclaimed as "only fitting that the concert program credits her as the show's 'creator and director'."

The tour's HBO special, The Velvet Rope: Live in Madison Square Garden, garnered more than fifteen million viewers. It surpassed the ratings of all four major networks among viewers subscribed to the channel. The concert won an Emmy Award from a total of four nominations. Jackson donated a portion of the tour's sales to America's Promise, an organization founded by Colin Powell to assist disenfranchised youth.

As the tour concluded, Jackson lent guest vocals to several collaborations, including Shaggy's "Luv Me, Luv Me", used for the film How Stella Got Her Groove Back, as well as "Girlfriend/Boyfriend" with Teddy Riley's group Blackstreet, and "What's It Gonna Be?!" with Busta Rhymes. The latter two music videos are both among the most expensive music videos ever produced, with "What's It Gonna Be?!" becoming a number-one hit on the Billboard Hip-Hop Singles and Hot Rap Tracks charts, reaching the top three of the Hot 100.

Jackson also contributed the ballad "God's Stepchild" to the Down in the Delta soundtrack. Jackson recorded a duet with Elton John titled "I Know the Truth," included on the soundtrack to Elton John and Tim Rice's Aida. At the 1999 World Music Awards, Jackson received the Legend Award for "outstanding contribution to the pop industry". Billboard ranked Jackson as the second most successful artist of the decade, behind Mariah Carey.

2000–2003: Nutty Professor II: The Klumps and All for You

In July 2000, Jackson appeared in her second film, Nutty Professor II: The Klumps, as the role of Professor Denise Gaines, opposite Eddie Murphy. Director Peter Segal stated "Janet Jackson was a natural fit, and an obvious choice." The film became her second to open at number one, grossing an estimated total of nearly $170 million worldwide. Jackson's single "Doesn't Really Matter", used for the film's soundtrack, became her ninth number-one single on the Hot 100.

Preceding the release of her seventh album, MTV honored Jackson with the network's inaugural "MTV Icon" ceremony, honoring her "significant contributions to music, music video and pop culture while tremendously impacting the MTV generation." The event paid tribute to Jackson's career and influence, including commentary from Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez, Aaliyah, and Jessica Simpson, and performances by 'N Sync, Pink, Destiny's Child, Usher, Buckcherry, Mýa, Macy Gray, and Outkast. The American Music Awards also honored Jackson with the Award of Merit for "her finely crafted, critically acclaimed and socially conscious, multi-platinum albums."

Jackson's seventh album, All for You, was released in April 2001. It opened at number one on the Billboard 200 with 605,000 copies sold, the highest first-week sales of her career, and among the highest first-week sales by a female artist in history. The album was a return to an upbeat dance style, receiving generally positive reception. Jackson received praise for indulging in "textures as dizzying as a new infatuation", in contrast to other artists attempting to "match the angularity of hip-hop" and following trends. All for You was certified double platinum by the RIAA and sold nine million copies worldwide.

The album's lead single, "All for You", debuted on the Hot 100 at number fourteen, setting a record for the highest debut by a single that was not commercially available. Jackson was titled "Queen of Radio" by MTV as the single made airplay history, being "added to every pop, rhythmic and urban radio station" within its first week. The song broke the overall airplay debut record with a first week audience of seventy million, debuting at number nine on the Radio Songs chart. It topped the Hot 100 for seven weeks, also reaching the top ten in eleven countries. The song received a Grammy Award for Best Dance Recording. "Someone to Call My Lover" peaked at number three on the Hot 100. Built around a sample of the iconic 1972 hit "You're So Vain" by Carly Simon, "Son of a Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)" featured Simon herself, along with Missy Elliott on remixes of the single.

In July 2001, Jackson embarked on the All for You Tour, which was also broadcast on a concert special for HBO watched by twelve million viewers. The tour traveled throughout the United States and Japan, although European and Asian dates were required to be canceled following the September 11 terrorist attacks. The Los Angeles Times complimented Jackson's showmanship. Richard Harrington of the Washington Post said Jackson's performance surpassed her contemporaries, but Bob Massy of Spin thought her dancers "threw crisper moves" and her supporting singers were mixed nearly as high, though declared "Janet cast herself as the real entertainment." Jackson donated a portion of the tour's proceeds to the Boys & Girls Clubs of America.

The following year, Jackson began receiving media attention for her rumored relationships with Justin Timberlake, actor Matthew McConaughey, and record producer Jermaine Dupri. Upon the release of Timberlake's debut solo album Justified, Jackson provided vocals on "(And She Said) Take Me Now" per Timberlake's request, with the song initially planned as a single. Jackson collaborated with reggae artist Beenie Man for the song "Feel It Boy", produced by the Neptunes.

2004–2005: Super Bowl XXXVIII controversy and Damita Jo

Jackson was chosen by the National Football League and MTV to perform at the Super Bowl XXXVIII halftime show in February 2004. She performed a medley of "All for You", "Rhythm Nation", and an excerpt of "The Knowledge" before performing "Rock Your Body" alongside surprise guest Justin Timberlake. As Timberlake sang the lyric "I'm gonna have you naked by the end of this song", he tore open her costume, exposing her right breast to 140 million viewers.

Jackson issued an apology after the performance, saying that the incident was accidental and unintended, explaining that Timberlake was only meant to pull away a bustier and leave the red-lace bra intact. She commented, "I am really sorry if I offended anyone. That was truly not my intention ... MTV, CBS, the NFL had no knowledge of this whatsoever, and unfortunately, the whole thing went wrong in the end." Timberlake also issued an apology, calling the accident a "wardrobe malfunction." The incident became the most recorded and replayed moment in TiVo history, enticing an estimated 35,000 new subscribers. Jawed Karim has stated that the incident inspired the creation of YouTube, as he noted that it was difficult for him to find videos of the incident online.

It is regarded as one of the most controversial television events in history, and Jackson was later listed in Guinness World Records as the "Most Searched in Internet History" and the "Most Searched for News Item". CBS, the NFL, and MTV denied any knowledge of the incident and all responsibility for it. The Federal Communications Commission heavily fined all companies involved and continued an investigation for eight years, ultimately losing its appeal for a $550,000 fine against CBS.

Following the incident, CBS permitted Timberlake to appear at the 46th Grammy Awards ceremony but did not allow Jackson to attend, forcing her to withdraw after being scheduled as a presenter. The controversy halted plans for Jackson to star in the biographical film of singer and activist Lena Horne, which was to be produced by American Broadcasting Company. Horne was reportedly displeased by the incident, but Jackson's representatives stated that she withdrew from the project willingly. A Mickey Mouse statue wearing Jackson's iconic "Rhythm Nation" outfit was mantled at Walt Disney World theme park the previous year to honor her legacy, but it was removed following her controversial performance.

Jackson's eighth studio album Damita Jo was released in March 2004, titled after her middle name. It debuted at number two on the Billboard 200. The album received mixed to positive reviews, praising the sonic innovation of selected songs and Jackson's vocal harmonies, while others criticized its frequent themes of carnality. However, several critics' reviews focused on the Super Bowl incident, rather than critiquing the album itself. It was certified platinum by the RIAA within a month, and sold over three million copies worldwide.

The album's performance was affected by blacklisting from radio and music channels, in part at the behest of CBS CEO Les Moonves. Conglomerates involved in the boycott included Viacom and CBS, subsidiaries MTV, Clear Channel Communications, and Infinity Broadcasting, the latter two among the largest radio broadcasters. The blacklist was placed into effect preceding the release of Damita Jo and continued throughout the course of Jackson's following two albums. Entertainment conglomerate Viacom owns MTV, VH1, and many radio formats, and a senior executive commented that they were "absolutely bailing on the record. The pressure is so great, they can't align with anything related to Janet. The high-ups are still pissed at her, and this is a punitive measure."

Prior to the incident, Damita Jo was expected to outsell prior release All for You. Its three singles received positive reviews but failed to achieve high chart positions, although each was predicted to perform extremely well under different circumstances. Billboard reported that Damita Jo "was largely overshadowed by the Super Bowl fiasco.... The three singles it spawned were blacklisted by pop radio—they were also the album's biggest highlights".

For the album's promotion, Jackson appeared as a host on Saturday Night Live performing two songs, and she was also a guest star on the sitcom Will & Grace portraying herself. Jackson received several career accolades upon the album's release, including the "Legend Award" at the Radio Music Awards, "Inspiration Award" from the Japan Video Music Awards, "Lifetime Achievement Award" at the Soul Train Music Awards, and a Teen Choice Awards nomination for "Favorite Female."

In November 2004, she was honored as a role model by 100 Black Men of America, Inc. and presented with the organization's Artistic Achievement Award saluting "a career that has gone from success to greater success." The organization responded to criticism for honoring Jackson in light of the Super Bowl incident by saying that "an individual's worth can't be judged by a single moment in that person's life." In June 2005, she was honored with a Humanitarian Award by the Human Rights Campaign and AIDS Project Los Angeles as recognition for her involvement in raising money for AIDS charities.

2006–2007: 20 Y.O. and Why Did I Get Married?

Jackson began recording her ninth studio album, 20 Y.O., in 2005. She recorded with producers Dupri, Jam and Lewis for several months during the following year. The album's title was a reference to the two decades since the release of her breakthrough album Control, representing the album's "celebration of the joyful liberation and history-making musical style."

To promote the album, Jackson appeared in various magazines, and performed on the Today Show and Billboard Awards. Jackson's Us Weekly cover, revealing her slim figure after heavy media focus was placed on her fluctuations in weight, became the magazine's best-selling issue in history. 20 Y.O. was released in September 2006 and debuted at number two on the Billboard 200. The album received mixed reviews, with multiple critics chastising the production and involvement of Jermaine Dupri. Rolling Stone disagreed with the album's reference to Control, saying "If we were her, we wouldn't make the comparison."

Jackson's airplay and music channel blacklist remained persistent, massively affecting her chart performance and exposure. However, lead single "Call on Me", which featured rapper Nelly, peaked at number twenty-five on the Hot 100, number one on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart, and number six in the United Kingdom. The video for the album's second single, "So Excited", was directed by Joseph Kahn and portrayed Jackson's clothes disappearing through a complex dance routine.

20 Y.O. was certified platinum by the RIAA and sold 1.5 million worldwide, also receiving a Grammy nomination for Best Contemporary R&B Album.After the album's release, Dupri was condemned for his production and misguidance of the album, and subsequently was removed from his position at Virgin Records. Slant Magazine stated, "After promising a return to Janet's dance-pop origins, [Dupri] opted to aim for urban audiences, a colossal mistake that cost Dupri his job and, probably, Janet her deal with Virgin."

Jackson was ranked the seventh richest woman in the entertainment industry by Forbes, having amassed a fortune of over $150 million. In 2007, she starred opposite Tyler Perry as a psychotherapist in the film Why Did I Get Married?. It became her third consecutive film to open at number one at the box office, grossing $60 million in total. Jackson's performance was praised for its "soft authority", though also described as "charming, yet bland".

2008–2009: Discipline and Number Ones

Jackson signed with Island Records after her contract with Virgin was fulfilled. She interrupted plans for touring and began recording with various producers, including Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins, Tricky Stewart, and Stargate. Her tenth studio album, Discipline, was released in February 2008, opening at number one. Despite radio blacklisting, the album's first single "Feedback" peaked at number nineteen on the Hot 100 and nine on Pop Songs, her highest charting single since "Someone to Call My Lover".

Also in February 2008, Jackson won an Image Award for "Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Motion Picture" for the role. Jackson was also approached to record the lead single for the film Rush Hour 3. Jackson was awarded the Vanguard Award at the 19th annual GLAAD Media Awards, honoring her contributions in promoting equal rights among the gay community. The organization's president commented, "Ms. Jackson has a tremendous following inside the LGBT community and out, and having her stand with us against the defamation that LGBT people still face in our country is extremely significant."

Jackson's fifth concert tour, the Rock Witchu Tour, began in September 2008. Jackson parted with Island Records through mutual agreement. Billboard disclosed Jackson was dissatisfied with LA Reid's handling of the album and its promotion, saying "the label agreed to dissolve their relationship with the artist at her request." Producer Rodney Jerkins expressed "I felt like it wasn't pushed correctly.... She just didn't get her just-do as an artist of that magnitude."

In June 2009, Jackson's brother Michael died at age fifty. She spoke publicly concerning his death at the 2009 BET Awards, stating "I'd just like to say, to you, Michael is an icon, to us, Michael is family. And he will forever live in all of our hearts. On behalf of my family and myself, thank you for all of your love, thank you for all of your support. We miss him so much." In an interview, she revealed she had first learned of his death while filming Why Did I Get Married Too?.

Amidst mourning with her family, she focused on work to deal with the grief, avoiding any news coverage of her sibling's death. She commented, "it's still important to face reality, and not that I'm running, but sometimes you just need to get away for a second." During this time, she ended her seven-year relationship with Jermaine Dupri.

Several months later, Jackson performed a tribute to Michael at the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards, performing their duet "Scream". MTV stated "there was no one better than Janet to anchor it and send a really powerful message." The performance was lauded by critics, with Entertainment Weekly affirming the rendition "as energetic as it was heartfelt".

Jackson's second hits compilation, Number Ones (retitled The Best for international releases), was released in November 2009. For promotion, she performed a medley of hits at the American Music Awards, Capital FM's Jingle Bell Ball at London's O2 arena, and The X-Factor. The album's promotional single "Make Me", produced with Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins, debuted in September. It became Jackson's nineteenth number one on the Hot Dance Club Songs chart, making her the first artist to have number-one singles in four separate decades.

Later that month, Jackson chaired the inaugural benefit of amfAR, The Foundation for AIDS Research, held in Milan in conjunction with fashion week. The foundation's CEO stated "We are profoundly grateful to Janet Jackson for joining amfAR as a chair of its first event in Milan.... She brings incomparable grace and a history of dedication to the fight against AIDS." The event raised a total of $1.1 million for the nonprofit organization.

2010–2014: Film projects and True You

In April 2010, Jackson reprised her role in the sequel to Why Did I Get Married? titled Why Did I Get Married Too?. The film opened at number two, grossing sixty million in total. Jackson's performance was hailed as "invigorating and oddly funny", and praised for her "willingness to be seen at her most disheveled". Her performance earned an Image Award for "Outstanding Actress in a Motion Picture". Jackson recorded the film's theme, "Nothing", released as a promotional single. The song was performed on the ninth season finale of American Idol along with "Again" and "Nasty".

In July, Jackson modeled for the Blackglama clothing line featuring mink fur, which was criticized by the animal rights organisation PETA. Jackson then helped design a signature line of clothing and accessories for Blackglama, to be sold at Saks Fifth Avenue and Bloomingdales. Universal Music released the hits compilation Icon: Number Ones as the debut of the Icon compilation series.

In November 2010, Jackson starred as Joanna in the drama For Colored Girls, the film adaptation of Ntozake Shange's 1975 play For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf. The Wall Street Journal stated Jackson "recites verses written by Ntozake Shange, the author of the play that inspired the film ... But instead of offering up a mannered coffeehouse reading of the lines, Jackson makes the words sound like ordinary—though very eloquent—speech." Jackson's portrayal the film was likened to Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. Her performance earned Black Reel Awards nominations in the categories of Outstanding Supporting Actress and Outstanding Ensemble.

Jackson announced plans to embark on her largest world tour in support of her second hits collection, Number Ones. The tour, entitled Number Ones, Up Close and Personal, held concerts in thirty-five global cities, selected by fans who submitted suggestions on her official website. During the tour, Jackson performed thirty-five number one hits and dedicated a song to each city. Mattel released a limited-edition Barbie of Jackson titled "Divinely Janet", auctioned for over $15,000, with proceeds donated to Project Angel Food.

Jackson released the self-help book True You: A Journey to Finding and Loving Yourself in February 2011, co-written with David Ritz. It chronicled her struggle with weight and confidence, also publishing letters from fans. It topped The New York Times' Best Seller list the following month. Additionally, she signed a film production contract with Lions Gate Entertainment to "select, develop and produce a feature film for the independent studio."

Jackson became the first female pop singer to perform at the I. M. Pei glass pyramid at the Louvre Museum, raising contributions for the restoration of iconic artwork. Jackson was selected to endorse fashion line Blackglama for a second year, being the first celebrity in the line's history chosen to do so. She partnered with the label to release a fifteen-piece collection of luxury products.

In 2012, Jackson endorsed Nutrisystem, sponsoring their weight-loss program after struggling with weight fluctuations in the past. With the program, she donated ten million dollars in meals to the hungry. She was honored by amfAR for her contributions to AIDS research when chairing the Cinema Against AIDS gala during the Cannes Film Festival. She also participated in a public service announcement for UNICEF to help starving children.

2015–2019: Unbreakable and concert residency

On May 16, 2015, Jackson announced plans to release a new album and to embark on a world concert tour. She outlined her intention to release her new album in the fall of 2015 under her own record label, Rhythm Nation, distributed by BMG Rights Management. The launch of Rhythm Nation established Jackson as one of the few African-American female musicians to own a record label.

On June 15, 2015, Jackson announced the first set of dates for the North American leg of her Unbreakable World Tour. On June 22, the lead single "No Sleeep" was released from the album. Jackson's solo version of the single debuted on the Hot 100 at number 67, marking her 40th entry on the chart. The song went to number 1 on the Billboard + Twitter Trending 140 immediately following the release. The album version featuring J. Cole enabled it to re-enter the Hot 100 with a new peak position at number 63, while also topping the Adult R&B Songs chart.

BET presented Jackson with their inaugural Ultimate Icon: Music Dance Visual award at the BET Awards 2015, which also featured a dance tribute to her performed by Ciara, Jason Derulo and Tinashe. It was announced she would launch a luxury jewelry line called the "Janet Jackson Unbreakable Diamonds collection," a joint venture between herself and Paul Raps New York. On August 20, she released a preview of a new song "The Great Forever," while also confirming the title of her eleventh studio album as Unbreakable.

Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis stated that Jackson's concept for the album was developed simultaneously with the accompanying tour's production and that its composition will differ from the majority of her catalog. They also stated that the album's theme reflects "being able to be vulnerable and to be able to withstand what comes to you," drawing on Jackson's experiences over the past several years. The album's title track "Unbreakable" was released on September 3, 2015, debuting on Apple Music's Beats 1 radio station, hosted by Ebro Darden. The album was also made available for pre-order on iTunes the same day. "Burnitup!" featuring Missy Elliott debuted on BBC Radio 1 on September 24, 2015. Unbreakable was released on October 2, 2015. It received largely positive reviews, including those by The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, USA Today, Los Angeles Times, and The Guardian. The following week, Jackson received her first nomination to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Her album debuted at number one on the Billboard 200, becoming her seventh album to top the chart in the United States.

On April 6, 2016, Jackson announced that she was "planning her family" with husband Wissam Al Mana, resulting in her postponing her tour. On May 1, 2017, Jackson announced she would resume her Unbreakable World Tour, now known as the State of the World Tour. The revamped tour launched on September 7, 2017. Refocusing the tour's theme to reflect socially conscious messages from Jackson's entire music catalog, a number of songs selected for the concert set list along with corresponding imagery depicted on stage address racism, white supremacy, fascism, xenophobia and police brutality. The tour opened to positive critical reception, with several commentators praising Jackson's post-pregnancy physical fitness, showmanship and socially conscious messages.

Her emotional rendition of "What About", a song about domestic violence originally recorded for The Velvet Rope, drew media attention highlighting her recent separation from her husband; Jackson's brother Randy alleges she suffered verbal abuse by Al Mana which contributed to the breakdown of their marriage. Proceeds from the concert of September 9, 2017 at the Toyota Center in Houston, Texas were donated to relief efforts supporting evacuees of Hurricane Harvey. Jackson met with Houston mayor Sylvester Turner and evacuees at the George R. Brown Convention Center prior to the performance. In May 2018, it was announced that Jackson would received the Billboard Icon Award at the 2018 Billboard Music Awards. In an interview for Billboard magazine, Jackson revealed that she was currently working on new music. On August 16, 2018, it was announced that Jackson and Rhythm Nation had entered into a partnership with Cinq Music. The next day, Jackson released the single "Made for Now", a collaboration with Daddy Yankee.

In October 2018, she received her third nomination for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On December 13, 2018, Jackson was announced as one of the seven inductees of the 2019 class of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

On February 26, 2019, Jackson announced a four-month Las Vegas residency entitled Metamorphosis. The initial schedule comprised fourteen shows at the Park Theater at Park MGM resort; three additional shows were announced in May. In September and November 2019 Jackson performed a series of concerts in support of the 30th anniversary of the Rhythm Nation album in Welch Treasure Island Resort & Casino, San Francisco and Hawaii. In 2019, Jackson played a variety of festivals in the US and abroad, including The Glastonbury Festival.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Janet Jackson among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

2020: Black Diamond

On February 10, 2020, Jackson announced her upcoming Black Diamond World Tour as well as her upcoming twelfth studio album Black Diamond due sometime in 2020.

Artistry

Music and voice

Jackson has a mezzo-soprano vocal range. Over the course of her career, she has received frequent criticism for the limits of her vocal capabilities, especially in comparison to contemporary artists such as Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey. In comparing her vocal technique to Houston and Aretha Franklin, vocal coach Roger Love states that "[w]hen Janet sings, she allows a tremendous amount of air to come through. She's obviously aiming for a sexy, sultry effect, and on one level that works nicely. But actually, it's fairly limited." He adds that while her voice is suitable for studio recording, it doesn't translate well to stage because despite having "great songs, incredible dancing, and her star like presence, the live show is still magnificent. But the voice is not the star."

Biographer David Ritz commented, "on Janet's albums—and in her videos and live performances, which revealed a crisp, athletic dance technique [...] singing wasn't the point," saying emphasis was placed on "her slamming beats, infectious hooks, and impeccable production values." Eric Henderson of Slant magazine claimed critics opposing her small voice "somehow missed the explosive 'gimme a beat' vocal pyrotechnics she unleashes all over 'Nasty' ... Or that they completely dismissed how perfect her tremulous hesitance fits into the abstinence anthem 'Let's Wait Awhile'." Classical composer Louis Andriessen has praised Jackson for her "rubato, sense of rhythm, sensitivity, and the childlike quality of her strangely erotic voice." Several critics also consider her voice to often be enveloped within her music's production.

Music critic J. D. Considine noted "on albums, Jackson's sound isn't defined by her voice so much as by the way her voice is framed by the lush, propulsive production of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis." Wendy Robinson of PopMatters said "the power of Janet Jackson's voice does not lie in her pipes. She doesn't blow, she whispers ... Jackson's confectionary vocals are masterfully complemented by gentle harmonies and balanced out by pulsing rhythms, so she's never unpleasant to listen to."

Matthew Perpetus of Fluxblog suggested Jackson's vocal techniques as a study for indie rock music, considering it to possess "a somewhat subliminal effect on the listener, guiding and emphasizing dynamic shifts without distracting attention from its primal hooks." Perpetus added: "Her voice effortlessly transitions from a rhythmic toughness to soulful emoting to a flirty softness without overselling any aspect of her performance ... a continuum of emotions and attitudes that add up to the impression that we're listening to the expression of a fully-formed human being with contradictions and complexities."

Jackson's music has encompassed a broad range of genres. Her records from the 1980s have been described as being influenced by Prince, as her producers are ex-members of the Time. Sal Cinquemani wrote that in addition to defining Top 40 radio, she "gave Prince's Minneapolis sound a distinctly feminine—and, with songs like 'What Have You Done for Me Lately?,' 'Nasty,' 'Control,' and 'Let's Wait Awhile,' a distinctly feminist—spin."

On Control, Richard J. Ripani documented that she, Jam and Lewis had "crafted a new sound that fuses the rhythmic elements of funk and disco, along with heavy doses of synthesizers, percussion, sound effects, and a rap music sensibility." Author Rickey Vincent stated that she has often been credited for redefining the standard of popular music with the industrial-strength beats of the album. She is considered a trendsetter in pop balladry, with Richard Rischar stating "the black pop ballad of the mid-1980s had been dominated by the vocal and production style that was smooth and polished, led by singers Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson, and James Ingram."

Jackson continued her musical development by blending pop and urban music with elements of hip-hop in the nineties. This included a softer representation, articulated by lush, soulful ballads and up-tempo dance beats. She is described by music critic Greg Kot as "an artist who has reshaped the sound and image of rhythm and blues" within the first decade of her career. Critic Karla Peterson remarked that "she is a sharp dancer, an appealing performer, and as 'That's the Way Love Goes' proves—an ace pop-song writer." Selected material from the following decade has been viewed less favorably, as Sal Cinquemani comments "except for maybe R.E.M., no other former superstar act has been as prolific with such diminishing commercial and creative returns."

Jackson has changed her lyrical focus over the years, becoming the subject of analysis in musicology, African American studies, and gender studies. David Ritz compared Jackson's musical style to Marvin Gaye's, stating, "like Marvin, autobiography seemed the sole source of her music. Her art, also like Marvin's, floated over a reservoir of secret pain." Much of her success has been attributed to "a series of powerful, metallic grooves; her chirpy, multi-tracked vocals; and a lyrical philosophy built on pride and self-knowledge." Ritz also stated, "The mystery is the low flame that burns around the perimeters of Janet Jackson's soul. The flame feeds off the most highly combustible elements: survival and ambition, caution and creativity, supreme confidence and dark fear."

During the 1980s, her lyrics embodied self-actualization, feminist principles, and politically driven ideology. Gillian G. Gaar described Control as "an autobiographical tale about her life with her parents, her first marriage, and breaking free." Jessie Carney Smith wrote "with that album, she asserted her independence, individuality, and personal power. She challenged audiences to see her as a transformed person, from an ingénue to a grow-up, multi-talented celebrity." Referring to Rhythm Nation 1814 as an embodiment of hope, Timothy E. Scheurer wrote "It may remind some of Sly Stone prior to There's a Riot Going On and other African-American artists of the 1970s in its tacit assumption that the world imagined by Dr. King is still possible, that the American Dream is a dream for all people."

On Janet, Jackson began focusing on sexual themes. Shayne Lee wrote that her music over the following decade "brand[ed] her as one of the most sexually stimulating vocalists of the 1990s." Lilly J. Goren observed "Jackson's evolution from politically aware musician to sexy diva marked the direction that society and the music industry were encouraging the dance-rock divas to pursue." The Washington Post declared Jackson's public image over the course of her career had shifted "from innocence to experience, inspiring such carnal albums as 1993's 'Janet' and 1997's 'The Velvet Rope', the latter of which explored the bonds—figuratively and literally—of love and lust."

The song "Free Xone" from The Velvet Rope, which portrays same-sex relationships in a positive light, is described by sociologist Shayne Lee as "a rare incident in which a popular black vocalist explores romantic or sensual energy outside the contours of heteronormativity, making it a significant song in black sexual politics." During promotion for Janet, she stated "I love feeling deeply sexual—and don't mind letting the world know. For me, sex has become a celebration, a joyful part of the creative process."

Upon the release of Damita Jo, Jackon stated "Beginning with the earlier albums, exploring—and liberating—my sexuality has been an ongoing discovery and theme," adding "As an artist, that's not only my passion, it's my obligation." Stephen Thomas Erlewine has found Jackson's consistent inclusion of sex in her music lacking ingenuity, especially in comparisons to other artists such as Prince, stating "while sex indisputably fuels much great pop music, it isn't an inherently fascinating topic for pop music—as with anything, it all depends on the artist."

Videos and stage

Jackson drew inspiration for her music videos and performances from musicals she watched in her youth, and was heavily influenced by the choreography of Fred Astaire and Michael Kidd, among others. Throughout her career, she has worked with and brought numerous professional choreographers to prominence, such as Tina Landon, Paula Abdul, and Michael Kidd. Veronica Chambers declared, "Her impact on pop music is undeniable and far-reaching," adding, "A quick glance at the Billboard chart reveals any number of artists cast in the Janet Jackson mold." Chambers observed numerous videos which "features not only Ms. Jackson's dancers but choreography and sets remarkably like those she has used."

Janine Coveney of Billboard observed that "Jackson's musical declaration of independence [Control] launched a string of hits, an indelible production sound, and an enduring image cemented by groundbreaking video choreography and imagery that pop vocalists still emulate." Ben Hogwood of MusicOMH applauded the "huge influence she has become on younger pretenders to her throne," most notably Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez and Christina Aguilera. Qadree EI-Amin remarked that many pop artists "pattern their performances after Janet's proven dance-diva persona." Beretta E. Smith-Shomade wrote that "Jackson's impact on the music video sphere came largely through music sales successes, which afforded her more visual liberties and control. This assuming of control directly impacted the look and content of her music videos, giving Jackson an agency not assumed by many other artists—male or female, Black or White."

Parallel Lines: Media Representations of Dance (1993) documents that her videos have often been reminiscent of live concerts or elaborate musical theater. However, in her 30-minute Rhythm Nation 1814 film, Jackson utilizes street dancing techniques in contrast to traditional choreography. The group dynamic visually embodies a gender neutral equality, with Jackson "performing asexually and anonymously in front of, but as one of the members of the group." Her music videos have also contributed to a higher degree of sexual freedom among young women, with Jackson "heavily implying male-on-female oral sex in music videos by pushing down on a man's head until he's in exactly the right position." However, accusations of cosmetic surgery, skin lightening, and increasingly hypersexual imagery have led to her being viewed as conforming to a white, male-dominated view of sexuality, rather than liberating herself or others.

Jackson received the MTV Video Vanguard Award for her contributions to the art form, and she became the first recipient of the MTV Icon tribute, celebrating her impact on the music industry as a whole. In 2003, Slant Magazine named "Rhythm Nation" and "Got 'til It's Gone" among the 100 Greatest Music Videos of all time, ranked at number 87 and number 10, respectively. In 2011, "Rhythm Nation" was voted the tenth best music video of the 1980s by Billboard.

Independent Journalist Nicholas Barber stated "Janet's concerts are the pop equivalent of a summer blockbuster movie, with all the explosions, special effects, ersatz sentimentality, gratuitous cleavage and emphasis on spectacle over coherence that the term implies."Jet magazine reported "Janet's innovative stage performances during her world tours have won her a reputation as a world-class performer." Chris Willman of Los Angeles Times stated the "enthralling" choreography of Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 Tour "represents the pinnacle of what can be done in the popping 'n' locking style—a rapid-fire mixture of rigidly jerky and gracefully fluid movements." When Jackson was asked "do you understand it when people talk about [The Velvet Rope Tour] in terms of Broadway?", she responded, "I'm crazy about Broadway ... That's what I grew up on."

Her "Number Ones: Up Close and Personal" tour deviated from the full-scale theatrics found in her previous concert arena settings in favor of smaller venues. Critics noted being scaled down did not affect the impact of her showmanship, and in some cases, enhanced it. Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune wrote, "In past tours, Jackson's thin voice was often swallowed up by the sheer size of her production ... In the more scaled-down setting, Jackson brought a warmth and a passion that wasn't always evident in stadiums ... the best Janet Jackson performance I've covered in 20-plus years."

Thor Christensen of The Dallas Morning News reported Jackson often lip syncs in concert; he wrote: "Janet Jackson—one of pop's most notorious onstage lip-syncers—conceded ... she uses 'some' taped vocals to augment her live vocals. But she refused to say what percentage of her concert 'voice' is taped and how much is live." Michael MacCambridge of the Austin American-Statesman, who reviewed Jackson's Rhythm Nation World Tour, described lip-syncing as a "moot point", stating "Jackson was frequently singing along with her own pre-recorded vocals, to achieve a sound closer to radio versions of singles." MacCambridge also observed "it seemed unlikely that anyone—even a prized member of the First Family of Soul Music—could dance like she did for 90 minutes and still provide the sort of powerful vocals that the '90s super concerts are expected to achieve."

Similarly, Chris Willman commented, "even a classically trained vocalist would be hard-pressed to maintain any sort of level of volume—or, more appropriately, 'Control'—while bounding up and down stairs and whipping limbs in unnatural directions at impeccable, breakneck speed." Critics observed that in the smaller scale of her "Number Ones: Up Close and Personal" tour, she forwent lip-syncing. Chris Richards of The Washington Post stated "even at its breathiest, that delicate voice hasn't lost the laserlike precision."

Influences

Jackson describes Lena Horne as a profound inspiration, for entertainers of several generations as well as herself. Upon Horne's death, she stated "[Horne] brought much joy into everyone's lives—even the younger generations, younger than myself. She was such a great talent. She opened up such doors for artists like myself." Similarly, she considers Dorothy Dandridge to be one of her idols.

Jackson has declared herself "a very big Joni Mitchell fan", explaining: "As a kid I was drawn to Joni Mitchell records [...] Joni's songs spoke to me in an intimate, personal way." She holds reverence for Tina Turner, stating "Tina has become a heroic figure for many people, especially women, because of her tremendous strength. Personally, Tina doesn't seem to have a beginning or an end in my life. I felt her music was always there, and I feel like it always will be." She has also named other socially conscious acts, such as Tracy Chapman, Sly and the Family Stone, U2, and Bob Dylan as sources of inspiration.

In her early career, Jackson credited her brothers Michael and Jermaine Jackson as musical influences. According to Rolling Stone and MTV, other artists attributed as influences include the Ronettes, Dionne Warwick, Tammi Terrell, Diana Ross, Chaka Khan, Stevie Wonder, Teena Marie, Prince, Parliament-Funkadelic, Zapp, and Tina Turner.

Legacy and influence

The youngest sister of the "precious Jackson clan", Janet Jackson has striven to distance her professional career from that of her older brother Michael and the rest of the Jackson family. Steve Dollar of Newsday wrote that "[s]he projects that home girl-next-door quality that belies her place as the youngest sibling in a family whose inner and outer lives have been as poked at, gossiped about, docudramatized and hard-copied as the Kennedys." Phillip McCarthy of The Sydney Morning Herald noted that throughout her recording career, one of her common conditions for interviewers has been that there would be no mention of Michael. Joshua Klein wrote, "[f]or the first half of her recording career, Janet Jackson sounded like an artist with something to prove. Emerging in 1982 just as big brother Michael was casting his longest shadow, Jackson filled her albums not so much with songs as with declarations, from 'The Pleasure Principle' to the radical-sounding 'Rhythm Nation' to the telling statement of purpose, 'Control'."

Steve Huey of Allmusic asserted that despite being born into a family of entertainers, Janet Jackson has managed to emerge a "superstar" in her own right, rivaling not only several female recording artists including Madonna and Whitney Houston, but also her brother, while "successfully [shifting] her image from a strong, independent young woman to a sexy, mature adult." By forging her own unique identity through her artistry and her business ventures, she has been esteemed as the "Queen of Pop". Klein argued that "stardom was not too hard to predict, but few could have foreseen that Janet—Miss Jackson, if you're nasty—would one day replace Michael as true heir to the Jackson family legacy.".

Jackson has also been recognized for playing a pivotal role in crossing racial boundaries in the recording industry, where black artists were once considered to be substandard. Author Maureen Mahon states: "In the 1980s, Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, and Prince were among the African American artists who crossed over ... When black artists cross over into pop success they cease to be black in the industry sense of the word. They get promoted from racialized black music to universal pop music in an economically driven process of racial transcendence." The Routledge International Encyclopedia of Women: Global Women's Issues and Knowledge documented that Jackson, along with other prominent African-American women, had achieved financial breakthroughs in mainstream popular music, receiving "superstar status" in the process.

She, alongside her contemporaries "offered viable creative, intellectual, and business paths for establishing and maintaining agency, lyrical potency, marketing and ownership." Her business savvy has been compared to that of Madonna, gaining a level of autonomy which enables "creative latitude and access to financial resources and mass-market distribution." A model of reinvention, author Jessie Carney Smith wrote that "Janet has continued to test the limits of her transformative power", receiving accolades in music, film and concert tours throughout the course of her career.

Musicologist Richard J. Ripani identified Jackson as a leader in the development of contemporary R&B, as her music created a unique blend of genre and sound effects which ushered in the use of rap vocals into mainstream R&B. He also argues her signature song "Nasty" influenced the new jack swing genre developed by Teddy Riley. Leon McDermott of the Sunday Herald wrote: "Her million-selling albums in the 1980s helped invent contemporary R&B through Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis's muscular, lean production; the sinuous grooves threaded through 1986's Control and 1989's Rhythm Nation 1814 are the foundation upon which today's hot shot producers and singers rely."

Simon Reynolds described Jackson's collaborations with her record producers as a reinvention of the dance-pop genre, introducing a new sonic palate. Den Berry, Virgin Records CEO and Chairman stated: "Janet is the very embodiment of a global superstar. Her artistic brilliance and personal appeal transcend geographic, cultural and generational boundaries." In July 1999, she placed at number 77 on VH1's "100 Greatest Women of Rock and Roll". She also placed at number 134 on their list of the "200 Greatest Pop Culture Icons of All Time", number seven on the "100 Greatest Women In Music", and at number two on the "50 Greatest Women of the Video Era", behind Madonna.

In March 2008, Business Wire reported "Janet Jackson is one of the top ten selling artists in the history of contemporary music; ranked by Billboard magazine as the ninth most successful act in rock and roll history, and the second most successful female artist in pop music history." She is the only female artist in the history of the Hot 100 to have 18 consecutive top ten hit singles, from "Miss You Much" (1989) to "I Get Lonely" (1998). The magazine ranked her at number seven on their Hot 100 50th Anniversary "All-Time Top Artists", making her the third most successful female artist in the history of the chart, following Madonna and Mariah Carey.

In November 2010, Billboard released its "Top 50 R&B / Hip-Hop Artists of the Past 25 Years" list and ranked her at number five. She ranks as the top artist on the chart with 15 number ones in the past twenty-five years, garnering 27 top ten hits between 1985 and 2001, and 33 consecutive top 40 hits from 1985 through 2004. Recipient of eleven Billboard Music Awards, she is one an elite group of musical acts, such as Madonna, Aerosmith, Garth Brooks and Eric Clapton, whom Billboard credits for "redefining the landscape of popular music."

In November 2014, Jackson was voted 'Queen of Pop' by a poll conducted online by VH1.com. In October 2015, she received her first nomination for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and four years later was inducted to the Hall. Jackson's music and choreography have inspired numerous performers.Virgin Records executive Lee Trink expressed: "Janet is an icon and historic figure in our culture. She's one of those gifted artists that people look up to, that people emulate, that people want to believe in ... there's not that many superstars that stand the test of time."

Sarah Rodman of the Boston Herald remarked: "For every hand-fluttering, overwrought, melisma addict out there aping Mariah's dog calls, there's an equal number trying to match Jackson's bubbling grooves and fancy footwork, including Britney Spears, Aaliyah and Destiny's Child." Music critic Gene Stout commented she "has so broadly influenced a younger generation of performers, from Jennifer Lopez ... to Britney Spears, who has copied so many of Jackson's dance moves." 'N Sync and Usher have credited her for teaching them how to develop stage show into theatrical performance. Kesha, Toni Braxton, Aaliyah, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Crystal Kay, Kelly Rowland, Rihanna, Brazilian singer Kelly Key, and Christine and the Queens have all named her an inspiration, while others such as Rozonda "Chilli" Thomas of TLC, Cassie, Nicki Minaj, Keri Hilson, and DJ/singer Havana Brown, have all expressed desire to emulate her.

Elysa Gardner of USA Today wrote: "Jackson claims not to be bothered by the brigade of barely post-adolescent baby divas who have been inspired by—and, in some cases, have flagrantly aped—the sharp, animated choreography and girlish but decidedly post-feminist feistiness that have long been hallmarks of her performance style." Adrienne Trier-Bieniek stated "scholars trace the origins of pleasure as a Black feminist commitment within popular culture to Janet Jackson" who inspired the feminist perspective found in many pop stars' careers. Those who are considered to have followed in her footsteps have been referred to as "Janet-come-lately's."

Other artists who have drawn comparison to her include Mýa, Brandy, Tatyana Ali, Christina Milian, Lady Gaga, Namie Amuro, and BoA. Sociologist Shayne Lee commented that "[a]s Janet enters the twilight of her reign as erotic Queen of Pop, Beyoncé emerges as her likely successor." Joan Morgan of Essence magazine remarked: "Jackson's Control, Rhythm Nation 1814 and janet. established the singer-dancer imprimatur standard in pop culture we now take for granted. So when you're thinking of asking Miss Jackson, 'What have you done for me lately?' remember that Britney, Ciara and Beyoncé live in the house that Janet built."

Personal life

At age 18, Janet Jackson eloped with singer James DeBarge in September 1984. The marriage was annulled in November 1985. On March 31, 1991, Jackson married dancer/songwriter/director Rene Elizondo Jr. The marriage was kept a secret until the split was announced. In January 1999, the couple separated and were divorced in 2000. Elizondo filed a multimillion-dollar lawsuit against her, estimated to have been between $10–25 million, which did not reach a settlement for three years.

From 2002 to 2009, Jackson dated music producer/rapper/songwriter Jermaine Dupri. In 2010, Jackson met Qatari businessman Wissam Al Mana and began dating him shortly after that. The couple became engaged and married privately in 2012. In 2016, Jackson announced that they were expecting their first child together. On January 3, 2017, Jackson gave birth to a son, Eissa Al Mana. In April 2017, it was announced that the couple had separated and were pursuing a divorce.

Discography

Studio albums

Janet Jackson (1982)

Dream Street (1984)

Control (1986)

Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 (1989)

janet. (1993)

The Velvet Rope (1997)

All for You (2001)

Damita Jo (2004)

20 Y.O. (2006)

Discipline (2008)

Unbreakable (2015)

Filmography

Good Times (1977–79)

Diff'rent Strokes (1980–84)

Fame (1984–85)

Poetic Justice (1993)

Nutty Professor II: The Klumps (2000)

Why Did I Get Married? (2007)

Why Did I Get Married Too? (2010)

For Colored Girls (2010)

Tours and concerts

Headlining tours

Rhythm Nation World Tour (1990)

Janet. World Tour (1993–1995)

The Velvet Rope Tour (1998–1999)

All for You Tour (2001–2002)

Rock Witchu Tour (2008)

Number Ones, Up Close and Personal World Tour (2011)

Unbreakable World Tour (2015–2016)

State of the World Tour (2017–2019)

Janet Jackson: A Special 30th Anniversary Celebration of Rhythm Nation (2019)

Black Diamond World Tour (2020)

Concert residencies

Janet Jackson: Metamorphosis (2019)

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