#going through it at the moment i fear. unclear why

[cirphu]

i need to know who the music supervisor is for the show because they are giving me everything and more with the song choices for sorn and jun's nc scenes—particularly the songs with lyrical content.

up until today, my favorite use of a song to convey and carry sorn and jun's feelings happened in ep 3. the song in question is bloom by roniit which reads like a conversation between the two of them. it's where they fully establish the "teaching" element of their situationship, so the lyrics are quite perfect—especially the ones in the second verse:

cloudy and unclear following my fears why do i only see myself through you? why do i only see myself through you? go my love into bloom i wanna grow my limbs tall like you over here i sway here i'll stay so go my love into bloom

now as great as bloom is, the song used in ep 4, it hurts remake by out of flux & paper plastic, has now taken the top spot for me. it was already use in ep 2, but i think its use in ep 4 really stands out because the words thoroughly capture jun's state of mind in that moment:

they all say it hurts to live this way i don’t mind the pain and i like to feel the shame of it (2x) why won’t you leave i got nothing more to give they all say it hurts to live this way i don’t mind the pain and i like to feel the shame of it

sorn just told jun that their current arrangement is simply sex with no feelings involved, and although jun seems quite sad about it, he agrees and gives in to sorn once again. because as the song says, "it hurts [...], but he [doesn't] mind the pain and likes to feel the shame of it." since they've use the song twice now, i wonder if it'll become jun's "sex with a side of emotional turmoil" anthem.

a slight tangent, but special shoutout to the editors because having the lyrics sync up to sorn kissing jun and then again when he bites him?! 10/10, no notes.

now, although i'm mostly focused on lyrical content, i can't forget about the instrumental song choices because the icing on the metaphorical song cake in ep 4 is the transition from it hurts to lovewave by ofri flint. it happens when they finally hit bed and sorn aka mr. no feelings involved passionately kisses jun from behind. again 10/10, no notes.

with what we've gotten so far, i'm honestly super excited to see what songs we'll get when they finally admit their feelings for each other.

that's all i have for now, so thanks for reading~ and for those who are interested, links to all of the songs used during sorn and jun's nc scenes so far (ep 1-4) are below the cut :)

ep 1 making out to mutual handjob: diagrammatic by oliver michael -> vacuum by michael fk

ep 1 blowjob in sorn's car: corals under the sun (remix) by omri smadar & yehezkel raz

ep 1 sorn and penny: diagrammatic by oliver michael

ep 1 bathroom kiss: it hurts (instrumental) remake by out of flux

ep 2 making out to mutual handjob: fog by dor ben lulu -> it hurts remake by out of flux & paper plastic

ep 3 nipple play: just candy by just for kicks

ep 3 fingering/simulated sex for jun's clarity: bloom by roniit

ep 4 defining the situationship to sex: shimmering light by sparrow tree -> it hurts remake by out of flux & paper plastic -> lovewave by ofri flint

[corpsentry]

wrote myself out of the bathtub today, soggy and miserable but very much alive

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

(Answer this after watching Chapter 4)

I NEED an X Reader where Reader comforts Doey after he's first frozen, or maybe one where Reader literally smacks some sense into Doey after the Safe Haven blows up(and we need the refugees to escape PLEASE-)

"Oh, it's you! Is the Doctor...?"

"No. Not yet. I'm working on it." You shook your head, looking apologetically at the doughy toy that had recently become one of your allies.

Even though you were just halfway through your trip through "No Man's Land", you're relieved that you didn't have to worry about Yarnaby following you around. You could have certainly used Doey's help beforehand, but he did save you from Pianosaurus at a critical moment where you thought it was truly the end for you.

Besides that, you were used to dealing with things on your own.

You sent Huggy into a pitfall, killed Mommy Long Legs, and set Catnap and Yarnaby ablaze without really anyone's assistance.

Killing the Doctor, on the other hand, was going to be a very different challenge. He wasn't some Bigger Body with flaws you could exploit--he was cruel, calculating, and wanted to prey on your fear and reasons for coming back to this factory.

Not to mention the Prototype, who was working with the mastermind behind the experiments for reasons still unclear to you. But the "why" wasn't important to you right now--letting this place burn down is what mattered most.

Doey was rather opposed to the idea of setting explosives in the foundation, although after everything you've seen (and knowing him and Poppy have probably seen things ten times worse), you were on board with the plan.

Because what was the alternative?

Letting all these toys starve and cannibalize each other? Waiting for some other poor soul like yourself to come here and die? Allowing the Prototype to have his way?

Absolutely not.

First things first..you had to find the omni hand for your grabpack, knowing it would give you greater access to the facility's systems. Apparently the Doctor had it under lock and key, meaning you had to take him out of commission before you could reach it.

At some point in your mission, you came across Doey again, who was inspecting a pipe. You felt a little bad for disappointing him when you said the Doctor wasn't dead yet, although he must have known it was going to take you some time.

But who could blame him? Him and the others have waited years and years for an opportunity like this. For someone like you to come along and save them.

He couldn't be at fault for being so eager.

"I figured as much." He sighed, smiling at you as he turned away from the pipe. "I've been here gathering parts for the generator."

"Really? Where's all the.....oh." You stopped yourself upon seeing him holding his stomach and giggling. "Right."

"Yup! LOTS of--ah!"

Without any warning, the pipe burst open with loud hiss and began spraying a cloud of cold gas directly onto him. Upon contact with his body, he became frozen solid.

You stood there in shock for a moment, before remembering that dough didn't mix well with the cold, and you panicked as you looked for a way to stop the flow of gas.

Then you looked up to see a switch, using one of your grabpack hands to turn the handle. Fortunately that seemed to do the trick, as the cloud dissipated almost instantly, allowing Doey to thaw out rather fast.

Despite your quick actions, he seemed thoroughly shaken, his eyes wide and his yellow arm stretched out, dragging it behind him as he quickly huddled into the nearest corner of the rooms.

"Hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, HURTS!!!" He cried out, his arm morphing back into its usual shape as he tries taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You frowned slightly and approached him, ignoring the opening doors for the moment. "Doey, are you okay?"

"N-No. He's made it impossible for me to get around here!" He snapped at you. "Traps like this are everywhere!"

His voice sounded different--with a lot more aggression to it, and so you kept your distance, feeling yourself growing tense.

You had to remember that no matter how innocent or kind these toys appeared to be...they were traumatized and obviously not of sound mind. They could turn on you at the drop of a hat.

Either that, or they're simply animals with unpredictable behaviors.

But you knew Doey wasn't some animal. He was an ally, someone you had learned to trust.

Your gut says that you seriously shouldn't, considering how trusting Mommy almost got you eaten alive, and trusting Poppy led to her redirecting the train and dragging you further into this mess.

But once you saw things from her point of view, you've come to realize that this wasn't something you could just walk away from.

How could you go on with life knowing all of this was happening beneath your feet? Especially now that she believes you were the only person who could help everyone who's suffered here--or at least whoever's left.

She put a lot of faith in you, and you couldn't let her down.

Although she definitely wanted you to hurry, you had to at least take the time to make sure Doey was okay after that trap was set off.

"It's the cold that hurts....th-the big mean Doctor knows that.." He sniffled, now sounding on the verge of tears as he hugged himself.

"And that's why I'm gonna stop him." You promised. "I'm gonna find whatever's left of that prick and destroy him. Once and for all."

"...I-I know. You can go on ahead. I'll..I'll be okay...I'll be okay..."

Despite what he says, you knew he very much wasn't okay just yet.

Then you had an idea.

"I know you will be. But first..."

The clay creature looked at you, seeing you open your arms up, the grabpack's mechanisms down at your sides. "Can I get a hug for the road, big guy?"

Doey sniffled again, at first hesitant to respond, but seeing your sweet attitude and the hope written on your face brought a smile back to his own features.

He nodded and hugged you tightly, squishing you against him and lifting you off the ground a few feet.

The smells of clay and dough were overwhelming, but they're a lot better than the other...ghastly scents you've somehow grown desensitized to.

"Of course you can, buddy!" He laughed. "You'll need it!" After a few moments, he set you down and checked to make sure he didn't leave any residue on you or your grabpack. "Thank you. That...made me feel a lot better."

"I'm glad. I feel better, too." You chuckled, adjusting the straps before making your way further into No Man's Land, praying that you'd make it to the Doctor's hideout and back to the Safe Haven alive.

They were all counting on you.

You couldn't fail.

Not after everything you've been through.

[msriri030]

Husband! Bob x Spouse Reader

cw: light angst

Masterlist

You glared at your ex-husband, Bob Velseb, standing at your doorway with a bag of fresh meat that all but screamed his latest gruesome exploits. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots—people had been going missing again.

Bob’s lips curled into a disarming smile, his southern drawl honeyed and deliberate. “I’m home, darlin’. Why don’t I whip up something’ nice' for you and the girls? Just like old times.”

Your hands clenched into fists as a wave of anger surged through you. Did he really think you’d let him stroll back into your life after disappearing when your now three-year-old daughter was only two months old? Fat chance.

He had always been a storm of chaos, leaving destruction in his wake, but this time it wasn’t just about you. Your two daughters, peacefully asleep upstairs, were your everything. You weren’t going to let Bob ruin the stability and safety you’d fought so hard to build.

“No,” you growled, stepping into the doorway to block his path. “You can fuck off and leave the girls out of this.”

Bob’s smile faltered slightly as you jabbed a finger toward the bag in his hand. “And take that mess with you. The girls believe their father is six feet under, and I intend to keep it that way.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, the smile on his face twisting into something colder, more dangerous. But you held your ground, your protective instincts blazing brighter than any fear he could try to stir in you. 

“Six feet under, huh?” he drawled, his southern accent dripping with a charm that felt as fake as the smile plastered on his face. “Well, darlin’, ain’t that somethin’? Here I am, back from the grave, just to see my family. Reckon that makes me a ghost, doesn't it?”

You stepped closer, blocking the doorway entirely, your body a shield between him and the peaceful home behind you. Your heart raced, but you didn’t dare let it show. Bob thrived on fear, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“Whatever sick game you’re playing, it ends here,” you spat, your voice low but resolute. “You don’t get to just show up after all these years and act like nothing happened. The girls don’t need you, Bob. We don’t need you.”

Bob chuckled darkly, the deep rumble of his laugh sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, darlin’, you wound me,” he drawled, his tone laced with mock sincerity. “I’ve been thinkin’ about y’all this whole time, wonderin’ how my little girls are growin’ up. Don’t you think they deserve to know their daddy?”

“Wound you? You—" Your voice faltered as your hands balled into fists at your sides. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to steady your trembling voice. “Their daddy is the man who’s been there for them—the one who raised them. Not the one who ran off and left us to pick up the pieces without warning! So no, Bob. They don’t need to know you. Not now. Not ever… I’m sorry.”

Bob’s smirk faded slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. But before he could respond, you continued, your voice breaking with raw emotion.

“Did you even think about how your disappearing act would affect them?” Your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked quickly, refusing to let them fall. “They asked for you day and night, Bob. Day and night. And I—"

You choked on the words, your pain spilling out in each syllable as you met his gaze. Bob’s frown deepened, his confident demeanor faltering as guilt flickered in his eyes.

For a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped, and he looked almost human like when you first met. Then, as if compelled by something primal, Bob suddenly moved toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. The air between you grew tense, and your breath hitched as his intentions became unclear.

You closed your eyes, bracing for the worst, your heart pounding as fear gripped you. But instead of pain, you felt the unexpected warmth of his arms wrapping around you. It wasn’t rough or forceful—it was tender, almost comforting.

Your breath caught as you opened your eyes, looking up at him through a blur of tears. His expression was unreadable, a strange mixture of guilt and longing etched across his face.

“Bob…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He leaned down slowly, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to your forehead. The gesture left you stunned, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. It wasn’t what you expected, not from the man who had brought so much chaos and pain into your life.

For a brief moment, you saw the man you had once loved, hidden beneath the years of betrayal and destruction. Yet, the warmth of his embrace couldn’t erase the past or the weight of his actions.

You pulled back slightly, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Bob… Please, just leave. For their sake.”

Your plea wavered with the emotions threatening to overcome you. The love you thought had long since died began to flicker, betraying your resolve. It was a dangerous ember, one that could easily ignite the uncertainty buried deep within you. Bob noticed the shift, his eyes softening as he gently cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But just… let me have one cup of your famous hot chocolate. Like old times, yeah? You remember?”

You felt your resolve cracking further as you unconsciously leaned into his touch, nuzzling his hand. His words carried a strange sense of nostalgia that tugged at your heart.

With a sad smile, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Fine… but please, don’t make too much noise. I don’t want the girls to wake up.”

Bob stepped inside, his smile broadening as his eyes roamed the familiar surroundings. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, memories, and the weight of decisions both past and present. You led him into the kitchen, your emotions a storm of conflicted feelings, wondering if letting him in was a mistake—or if the fleeting moment of warmth was worth the risk.

When you turned to try to backtrack, to take control of the situation, the sight of Bob rooted you in place. The man who had ended lives without hesitation now stood frozen before your wall, covered with photographs of the girls. Everyday moments captured with care—birthdays, school plays, lazy afternoons at the park. His gaze, however, was fixed on one particular picture: a family drawing, childishly scrawled in crayon.

It was simple yet heartbreaking—a depiction of all four of you holding hands in a park, smiling under a bright yellow sun. Beneath the figure labeled "Mom" was you, next to two smaller figures marked "Us." But next to the towering figure meant to represent Bob, the words "My Guardian Angel" were written in wobbly letters.

Bob’s face twisted as he stared, his usual confidence crumbling into something vulnerable, raw. Guilt rippled through his expression as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Finally, he turned to you, who stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for him to process whatever he was feeling.

“I guess you couldn’t really tell them their dad’s a red devil, huh?” he murmured, his voice unsteady as he finally walked toward you.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze locked on the stove as you quietly prepared the hot chocolate. “No,” you replied softly but firmly. “I can’t.” 

The silence between you two stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft clinking of the spoon as you stirred the hot chocolate on the stove. Bob watched you intently, his gaze tracing every movement with a mixture of longing and regret. He had missed you—the way you moved, the way your voice filled the room. For all his selfish desires, he knew better than to say it aloud.

Your voice shattered his thoughts.

“You know, Belle—our youngest—found an old picture of you.” You smiled faintly, but the sadness in your eyes cut deeper than any words could. “She was kissing it and asking where you were. I had to remind her… you were in ‘heaven.’”

Bob’s confident demeanor faltered. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze for the first time, guilt etched into every line of his face.

You poured the steaming hot chocolate into a cup, setting it down in front of him with deliberate care. “You know what’s funny?” you continued, your voice tinged with anger and exhaustion. “I feel jealous of how much she loves you. Because I know you don’t deserve it.”

Bob flinched as if the words had physically struck him, but he stayed silent, gripping the cup as if it were the only thing grounding him.

You stared at him, your expression hardening as you leaned forward. “They buried their memories of you with love,” you said, your voice low but sharp. “Now that you’re back…”

Bob finally looked up, meeting your glare, but the weight of your next words shook him to his core.

“What do you want me to tell them? Why?” Your tone cracked with emotion, though your resolve remained unyielding. “There’s no way to revive the man they’ve idealized without killing the truth of the one who actually left.”

The room fell silent again, the tension between you two palpable, as Bob struggled to find words that didn’t exist.

[adieutristana]

could you write jinx x fem reader who are a couple in season 1 and reader heals jinx's wound after she used a stapler on the wound to remember caitlyn's name

of course! thank you for the request <3

beaches by beabadoobee on repeat rn

summary; comforting and patching up jinx after her fight with the firelights.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, injury, jinx is kinda rude at first (just pissed), drinking mention (r works at the last drop), mentions of poor mental health, hallucinations, fluff, set in s1

men dni.

the moment that thieram gave you the okay to punch out, you swung your apron off and sprinted towards the doors.

gunshots and explosions- you'd heard the noises, though distant. they weren't uncommon in zaun by any means, but you'd grown to recognize the sounds of the firelights, different groups, the like. you'd been pouring a round of shots for a group of patrons, celebrating a birthday and talking your ear off about their plans for the night. all you could give was flat one-word answers, your mind focused on jinx. where is she? is she caught up in this? is she hurt?

your feet move faster than you can think. clutching the shoulder strap of your bag, running through the dimly lit streets of zaun towards one destination. jinx's hideout.

"watch where you're fucking going!"

you hear from behind you, soon after bumping into a stranger on the street. you turn your head back to yell a quick 'sorry!' before continuing towards jinx's hideout. your heart is pounding in your chest, you're panting and all you can think about is her. the noises had died down about an hour before the end of your shift, and every one of those last sixty minutes felt like torture.

torture in not knowing. torture in having to wait, in knowing that jinx might've needed you in that moment and you weren't there. you couldn't shake the image of jinx on some ledge, injured and bleeding. calling out for help, yet nobody is around to answer it. it made your heart wrench, but nobody knew anything. you'd often eavesdrop on patrons to pass the time, getting invested in stories they'd tell. you didn't know these people, part of you felt like this was wrong. but some of those stories were damn interesting.

but all anyone had to talk about today was their family, their failed relationships, business, or their frustrations with piltover. absolutely nothing about what you'd heard, and it only made the pit in your stomach worsen.

you can see the door to jinx's hideout just a few feet ahead, and your feet begin to move even quicker. it's unclear what's fueling you- adrenaline? fear? likely a mix of both. you swing the door open, breathlessly running inside and up one of the panels leading to the center of the turbine.

jinx's voice can be heard mere steps away. it's the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard, especially now. she's alive, and she's here. that's something to be grateful for, yet she's talking to herself. her voice sounds gruff, and you see her figure- clutching her forehead.

"why would i remember her name?! she's just some stupid topsider!"

followed by a sharp grunt, and a cry of pain.

"ghh- gah!"

you're almost there, almost at jinx's side, and- holy shit, is that a stapler?

jinx doesn't seem to notice your presence, though. she's sat down, her right leg extended and a gold stapler held firm. she's rambling to herself, words incoherent, and her eyes are darting from spot to spot. never honing in on one thing. you've seen jinx like this, she's hallucinating- she may be alive, but jinx is far from okay.

you smack the stapler out of jinx's hand and drop to one knee in front of her, digging around in your messenger bag for a first aid kit. you'd bought one the first time you cut your hand on a shattered wine glass at work, and now you're damn grateful you did that.

"i was doing something with that!"

jinx protests, still breathless. her eyes are fixed on you, now that you've interrupted her. blue eyes looking straight through you rather than at you, and it shakes something in you. you've been afraid to upset jinx further, and you've been worried she may not recover from episodes. but you've never felt uneasy in her presence before- not until now.

"you're not using a stapler, jinx. come on, let me have a look."

you place jinx's leg over your lap, coming to sit on your knees. a clean yet deep gash on her leg, undoubtedly a result of what you'd heard earlier. your brows furrow, and your heart twists in your chest. you should've called out today, you thought. maybe then, you could've prevented this. but there's no use in dwelling.

"they messed you up bad, huh?"

"shut up," she winces, her head thrown back and little groans of pain escaping her. she's clearly not in the mood for any kind of comfort or quips. it isn't personal, you know that, but you can't control the slight sting that comes from her words.

"what happened?"

your hands are busy searching through your first aid kit, looking for a roll of gauze. it's half-assed and it won't do a thing for a wound like your girlfriend has, but it's what you've got. you can work your way around a needle and thread, but that's out of the question. the last thing you need is jinx getting sepsis on top of this, because you'd used an unsterile needle to stitch her up.

"vi's back." she groans. long blue braids are splayed across the floor beneath her chair, and you finally find what you're looking for- your hands shooting out to grab it.

"vi? your sister, vi?"

"yeah, my sister. who else?"

you huff, knowing it's not worth it to press when jinx gets like this. but still, it's intriguing. her sister, who had left her seven years ago... suddenly back. huh.

"she was in stillwater, apparently. all that time." she grumbles, an exasperated and somewhat sarcastic edge to her voice. as if she suspects there's more to the story.

you begin to wrap the gauze around jinx's leg, and the white is carefully tinged red with her blood. the sight isn't pretty, and you wish so badly that you could take her pain away. that you had the skills necessary to properly patch her up, instead of using some dingy first aid kit from a convenience store. but at least the bleeding seems to have slowed.

"and she's back? how'd that happen?" you hum, your gaze focused on the task at hand.

"said some girl freed her. i didn't think much of it, yanno. just thought someone was doing her a nice favor. until i found out that girl was an enforcer," she grumbles, her head falling further back. her voice is bordering on a growl now. "what was her name, her name..."

she's repeating the question like a vice, more to herself than you.

"her name?"

"her name! i can't remember it, god damn it..."

your lips purse, and you wrap the gauze around once again. careful not to wrap hard enough to cut off blood flow, but still with enough pressure to keep the bleeding at bay. jinx starts to laugh, a low, rumbling sound.

is that what this is about? she doesn't seem bothered about the wound, not that you'd expected anything less from jinx, of course- she's constantly injured in one way or another, and her ego is too big for her own good. she's a strong, capable girl. you know that well. but you also knew that there was a very real possibility of that ego getting her in trouble one day.

your free hand comes to rest on jinx's thigh, squeezing gently in an attempt to bring her back to reality.

"her name, her name..." she continues.

"why is her name important?" you sigh, grabbing a roll of medical tape from the open box. "she's an enforcer."

"yeah, an enforcer who managed to bag my sister."

fair enough, you suppose.

it struck you as odd, for a zaunite to be willingly in close relations with an enforcer of all people. especially when said zaunite's parents were killed by enforcers. but you keep those thoughts to yourself, knowing jinx is likely thinking the same thing- you don't want to fan the flames of her anger any more than necessary.

another moment of silence, then her voice cuts through again. breathy, firm.

"caitlyn."

your eyes widen momentarily as you apply the medical tape, securing the gauze around her leg.

"kiramman?"

not exactly a common name around here, and caitlyn kiramman was an enforcer. along with being the sole heir to the kiramman estate, the daughter of one of piltover's most influential figures. a councilor.

"i don't know," jinx mutters, her hands coming to grip at the sides of the chair. she's not fighting you patching her up, but she seems to be trying to anchor herself so she doesn't squirm. "probably? fancy topsider, with a fancy last name. it doesn't matter."

you take a step back, putting your hands on your hips and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. that makes things even worse- for her sister to be running around with an enforcer is bad enough on its own. but a kiramman is an entirely different monster that you don't even want to think about.

walking over to the back of the chair, you drape your arms around jinx's shoulders from behind. it'll probably strain your back, but you still lean down to rest your chin on jinx's shoulder.

"she doesn't matter," you murmur, your lips brushing the pale skin of jinx's neck. "she's just some stupid topside enforcer."

"but she got my sister," jinx groans. she's still tense, but you can see the way her jaw unclenches with your kiss. "i mean, doesn't she remember what happened to our parents?"

your lips press into a thin line. jinx is right, and words are failing you right now.

"i don't know what to tell you, honestly."

you whisper, your chin still resting on jinx's shoulder. as much as you wish you had all the answers to reassure the girl, you didn't. you'd never met her sister, and you'd never met caitlyn- not personally, anyway. you weren't there when they had reunited.

"it was a trick. all a trick," jinx whispers. "she wanted that stupid hex crystal. not me, not her little sister."

the words make your heart clench in your chest, and you shake your head. that sounds out of character, despite you having never met vi. the way jinx reminisced on her, how caring she was, how sweet. the fact that she'd told jinx she could fix anything.

"there has to be more to it than that."

"it doesn't matter. just... i don't wanna talk about it anymore."

you nod slowly, and press another gentle kiss to jinx's neck, then to her jawline from behind. she leans into your touch and one of her hands comes to hold onto the arms wrapped around her, a subtle sign of acceptance. she's calmed down, at least for the most part.

it's not much, but it's all the comfort that you can offer her right now. you'd learned the hard way during previous episodes that when jinx says to drop something, you drop it.

"alright, baby." you whisper. "but if you change your mind, i'm here to listen."

[doonalli]

The Dummies, Midori, The Banquet, and what it truly means to "be human"

And here we are at the finale. if you haven't seen my previous analyses on the Dummies I recommend you read them before reading this one since i am going in assuming you have. But if not here they are in order; Why Anzu is Important Hayasaka and how humans change Kurumada and trust in your allies Ranmaru: Doubts in Humanity, and Humanity in Doubts Mai and Humanity in Autonomy Hinako; Humanity in Affection and Connection

With that said, let's start talking about the Banquet, Midori and what that says about the dummies' humanity.

At first the Banquet seems like a strange choice for the finale of the chapter, after all, we just went through a whole chapter about proving the humanity of the dummies, yet here they are all killed of one after the other here for the sake of Gin, a human. It comes off as a bit jarring, even seeming like YTTD is going back on its message a bit.

But I’m here to argue that isn’t the case, that the Banquet not only doesn’t conflict with the messaging of the chapter and the game as a whole, but instead works to push it even further to culminate in a perfect ending.

And to start with that, let's talk about one of the key players in the banquet, Midori. In a way Midori is everything it means to not be human, and he himself revels in this inhumanity. Midori has thrown away his own humanity, and this is shown to us in so many different ways, but the main one is the way he treats his own body.

What's particularly interesting about Midori is how unclear the line between what's real and what's fake is when it comes to him, from his relationships with the participants during their pasts, to the constant lies and half truths the tells over the chapter, to his death itself, it's hard to get a grasp on the reality of the situation when it comes to him.

And this of course extends to Midori himself, as he is presented as a mystery ever since Alice told Keiji about his murder, and in the way we don’t quite know if he is human or not until the banquet itself, and even then we don’t know exactly how much of his body is human.

During the Banquet Midori reveals that he has slowly been replacing parts of his body with doll parts, 

And to Midori this is equal to no longer being human, this mentality can only be achieved if you equate humanity to what you physically are, and it's through this that Midori acts as the opposite of what the dummies all stand for,

Where the dummies stand for Humanity not being tied to the physical truth, Midori stands for the opposite notion, that the physical truth stands above all. In his eyes humanity is a weakness, and we see that in how he treats them and the traits that prove humanity.

And so Midori tries to escape it, to escape his own humanity, no need for allies or connections or doubts or fears, all those "human" traits when you can just stand above it all, as some unstoppable force.

Midori is the perfect example of this because he constantly rubs it in your face just how inhuman he is, he does so when he starts spinning his head and when he rocket punches Yabusame and literally asks

And he furthers this mentality with his actions too, because Midori is denying his own humanity, he denies his fear of death, he constantly berates and betrays his allies like Maple or Hinako, he denies others of their choices and autonomy, laughing at their despair and refusing to connect, and even his “affection” for Sou is a twisted, messed up version of what affection is. All of it to dehumanise himself and others.

It's honestly hard to call Midori human after it all, and that's just what Midori wants. That's why Maple’s last act of defiance near the end of the chapter was so important, because it shows us and to Midori that that's all it is, a facade.

Just one small moment where Midori wasn’t in control and that's all it took to show us that he isn’t invincible, and with that the image of a fearless unstoppable force is shattered, and it shows us that he isn’t as above humanity as he thinks he is.

It's important that this happens here because it allows the cast to fight back during the next section, both himself and his ideals.

Midori’s mentality of humanity being defined by what you physically are goes head to head with the Dummies in the banquet, and that's what it's about, it's a battle between Midori, and the Dummies, who are trying to prove their own humanity, with all the ups and downs that come with it.

The banquet itself plays into this too, the hint system draws a straight, clear cut answer on who is a doll and who is a human, using exclusively what they are physically.

And the cast isn’t exempt from doing this too, with many of the first discussions being centred around “who is human?”, whether it be figuring out what the lights mean, questioning whether Midori himself is human, or questioning who among the Dummies is a human.

And it's only when Mai’s hands are revealed to be Midori’s human hands, that the lines start to blur. 

Does Mai having human hands make her "more human"? What if they aren't even hers? Plenty of people use body parts from others in real life too right? It gets you thinking about the line between human and doll and just how fragile and unclear it can be.

And sure we designate Midori as the human here, but later we find out we were wrong, because trying to designate a human through physical traits is wrong. But before that…

After picking a coffin and killing either Hayasaka or Kurumada the next hint reveals a human, Sara tells Midori that he must be afraid as hypothetically there is a 50% chance he dies, but Midori denies he is afraid of dying and picks the coffin anyways, revealing it to be Hinako

This just blurs the lines even more, since up to this point we thought all the dummies were dolls, yet a human was able to sneak in there entirely undetected. Can you really say they're that different if you didn't even realise it at first?

And importantly, as we discuss who Hinako really was, we confirm her humanity, but not through any physical traits like many people tried to do during the banquet, but through a painting and the connection between Alice and the real Hinako.

During the next section we figure out the truth about Midori, and about how he has more doll parts than human, spinning his head all the way around to prove it. Obviously this isn’t something that any human could do, but more importantly it shows us Midori’s inhumanity in an undeniable way, it's so flashy, bold and in your face, that you’d be hard pressed to call him human.

When Sara then stands firm and states that this proves Midori is a doll and Gin is a human she is agreeing to the line that Midori drew and separates Humans and Dolls even further. This goes as far as to picking a red coffin, picking a doll, just to keep Gin the human safe, Midori even calls Sara out on it if she is really alright with picking one of the dummies, and notably Sara’s internal monologue doesn’t question that fact, but instead wondering why Midori is so confident, and why he doesn’t seem to be scared.

Sara is being pushed even further into believing Midori isn’t really human anymore at this point, Questioning if their logic was even correct. Until…

The surviving dummies inspire Sara through their words, and with that, prove their own humanities in their own separate ways, showing Sara and the player that their lives have purpose, have value, and that they are truly human.

On the surface it seems like Sara is simply making a choice to sacrifice the dolls for the sake of a human, and the tragedy of that is the fact these scenes show the truest form of their humanity. There is a reason these scenes are such a focal point in my analysis of each of those characters (Mai, Kurumada, and Hayasaka) and it's because it shows that they are able to make their own choices, for the sake of their allies, despite their contradictory emotions, and that's something that's inherently human. 

We see this when characters like Mishima, Kai, and Kanna all do something similar, and it all just works to prove that fact the dummies aren’t separate from the humans.

So why does this happen? Well to me it shows that despite their efforts, Sara still couldn’t shake her bias, playing right into what the Banquet and Midori want, by dehumanising the dummies.

But it isn’t over and the dummies still have a chance to show their humanity.

Tragically, Sara misses, not knowing at this point that Midori isn’t even in one of the glowing coffins, and Midori now has a free shot that's basically guaranteed to hit Gin, but Midori gives her a chance to talk to Gin, and that confidence ends up being his undoing.

While talking to Gin he mentions Keiji, reminding Sara of her wish she got from signing the consent form. She demands Midori to change it, and after some arguing, he does. Only he picks the #2 coffin, killing Anzu, and it's here where we reach our lowest point, where Sara herself admits that she undeniably sacrificed a doll for the sake of a human.

However it's always darkest before the dawn, and that's true here too, this is the Dummies’ last chance to prove themselves, and they won’t go down without a fight.

Through a discussion the cast figures out that Hinako swapped coffins with Midori before the banquet even began, meaning he is actually in a non-glowing coffin, and through this they are given an actual chance to fight back, because, as Sara rightfully called out, this proves Midori is afraid of death.

Despite his claims otherwise, Midori is scared of death, and because of that he swapped coffins with Hinako out of a fear he’d die outwise.

Midori claims that this doesn’t matter though as no matter what all 3 of the non glowing coffins have dolls inside, meaning the hit will be red no matter what. 

Regardless Sara presses the hint and it ends up blue, meaning that there is a human inside, much to everyone’s surprise.

The fact that Midori believed so strongly that the coffins would end up red only for it to be blue just blurs the lines between these two options even more. The fact that the contents in this coffin are unknown is just the first step in this counterattack.

Before that however, Ranmaru’s coffin is picked, sending Sara to give up, but Q-taro tells her that it's not what she thinks, as Midori is revealed to be struggling with his next choice.

This goes into the war of words against Midori, and the thing about this one is that compared to the other war of words our goal here is to confuse Midori as much as possible. First we refute his claim that Keiji isn’t in the coffin, despite it being blue. Then when he brings up the victim videos we tell him that the Hinako in the video isn’t even the Hinako of the dummies. He reasons out Maple must have told Keiji about the Banquet, and reveals that the coffins designate between human and doll through the collars, as both dolls and humans would be ashes after being cremated.

All these contradictions are designed to blur the lines between red and blue, real and fake, human and doll.

The way Midori doubts a human is in the blue coffin, or the way we bring up how not all the dummies are dolls of people who died, or how he admits that the coffins don’t even tell the content apart by physical traits but instead by the collar put on them.

And by the end we’ve blurred the lines so much that Midori thinks the coffin contains his collar, despite his own claim that he himself would be counted as a doll. All due to Q-taro's trick.

As if Hinako being a Human among the dolls wasn't enough, there has been a doll among the humans the whole time, and no one could tell, not even Midori, who dies before he ever learns the truth.

The fact that a doll of someone could so easily fit in just shows how vague the lines really are. We see just how much a doll can seem like a human, how they can feel and learn and grow like any human, how they laugh and cry and shout like any human. And at that point... was there ever really even a line at all? And this all culminates in the final act of the Banquet, Midori and Sara’s last choices. Midori is now doubting himself,

struggling between the 2 options he has to target, struggling with his conflicting feelings,

 and Sara thinks to herself that Midori has no allies to rely on now,

because he denied that connection, and killed them all himself.

She tells him to choose, to make his own choices now,

and he does, he picks the non glowing coffin… Missing Gin and ultimately dooming himself.

Sara ends up making her choice, choosing Midori’s coffin, and as the drill goes through Midori, he realises just how scared of death he is, but it's too late for him.

We prove his mentality of humanity being decided by physical traits is wrong in this moment, because here, in his final moments, Midori is undeniably human, and even he can’t run away from that.

"I'm a human. Which is why I don't wanna die..."

Unlike somebody such as Rio, who also spent his last moments as a human, Midori doesn’t deserve any sympathy, because he did that to himself. Just like how he denied that connection to his allies like Hinako, and killed them, Midori essentially killed his humanity, or at least tried to, so when he’s backed into a corner he doesn’t get to rely on his allies, and while we’ve proven that his mentality of humanity isn’t right, Midori himself he only realises this right as he is about to die, when it's far too late to go back now.

Through the Banquet and its final choice we prove to not only Midori, but to the cast and ourselves that humanity can’t be defined with just the physical truth, and that's what victory means for the dummies, because if someone who actively threw away his own humanity, with all his rocket punches and spinning head can still struggle with contradictory feelings, can try to rely on his allies, can still be forced to make his own choice, and can truly fear death, then humanity  just can’t be defined by something as simple as how much of your body is a doll, and the lines that seemed to divide that, ceases to exist at all.

================================================================================================ Afterword: So that's it. This set of analyses is finally done. Some of you all might have noticed that this is being released exactly one year after my first Anzu analysis, and I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this with me, the fact that there are people who like and agree with what I have to say is still unbelieveable.

I started this series because I thought the dummies were an underappreciated part of YTTD and 3-1 was underappreciated in general. To me this chapter is just incredible, my favourite bit of fiction ever, and I just wanted to put it into words why I love it so much, and as I wrote this series I only grew to love it more!

I hope I was able to share that love to whoever took the time to read any of my posts, its been an incredible time, thank you so much! and i hope you're able to love it a bit more too.

Sorry this one took so long to come out, I've been working on a few projects that i'll hopefully be able to drop soon, and if you're a fan of the dummies I think you'll like what I have in store.

Lastly I want to thank Crazy Sunshine for being such an incredible friend and for helping me so much with the latter half of these analyses, they were improved so much with their help!!!!

And I'll try to be more consistent with these posts but uhh i said that before and that hasn't exactly worked out, regardless this isn't the end, i have a few asks to catch up on still and i am not even remotely close to saying all there is to say about this incredible chapter, so I hope you'll be there when it drops. I hope you've enjoyed this era of my blog and moreso I hope you look forward to the future.

Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed! and I hope I got you thinking about this incredible chapter even just a little bit more.

[nagiwrites]

Chapter Two: The Capitol’s Rules.

Characters: Caleb, you

A/n: I swear formatting on here is a job in itself. Anyways another chap is here if u wanna be tagged feel free to tell me. Also I’ll put content warnings for this fic.

☆ Content: body stripping and forced undressing, non-consensual physical contact, loss of bodily autonomy, mild nudity and humiliation, emotional distress, depersonalization and identity erasure, as well as themes of classism and systemic oppression.

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📌 Synopsis :

On the way to the Capitol, she learns the Games are more performance than survival. Caleb promises to protect her, but his motives remain unclear. Once inside, she’s stripped of her identity and remade for the Capitol’s stage—left feeling like a stranger in her own skin.

The hovercraft hummed through the sky, the engines too smooth, too quiet for something moving this fast. The tinted windows gave nothing away—just endless stretches of blue fading into the neon glow of the Capitol ahead.

The farther they got from District IV, the cleaner everything became. The shanty towns and dust-covered streets disappeared, replaced with pristine high-rises, gleaming transport stations, and well-maintained roads. This was the rich side. The part of the district that still belonged to the Capitol, where officials, Peacekeepers, and the privileged few lived untouched by hunger and fear.

She’d never been here before.

And she wouldn’t have time to take it in now.

Across from her, Caleb sat in perfect stillness, his hands resting against his knees. Not restrained, not worried. Like a man who chose to be here.

She still didn’t understand that.

Or him.

She leaned back, staring at the ceiling as she exhaled. “So,” she said, breaking the silence, “are you going to explain how this works, or are we just supposed to figure it out as we go?”

Caleb blinked once, slow and unreadable. “The Hunter Games?”

“No, the weather,” she said flatly. “Of course, the Games.”

A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crossed his face before vanishing. He shifted slightly, adjusting his posture like this conversation was a negotiation. “There are three phases before the arena,” he said. “Training, evaluations, and interviews. All designed to entertain the Capitol before the real event.”

She frowned. “Training?”

He nodded. “Weapons, survival tactics, close combat. You’ll be assigned a score at the end of it. Higher scores mean more sponsors. More sponsors mean a better chance of making it past the first few days.”

She absorbed that, tapping a finger against her knee. “And the evaluations?”

Caleb’s gaze darkened. “Private sessions with the Gamemakers. They decide how dangerous you are.”

That made her stomach twist.

“And the interviews?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Propaganda.”

She snorted. “Figures.”

She expected him to leave it at that, but after a beat, he continued. “They want a story. Something they can sell to the people. Fear. Tragedy. Romance. It doesn’t matter as long as they can control it.”

She turned that over in her mind. The Games weren’t just about killing—they were about putting on a show. And the Capitol would twist every moment to fit whatever narrative kept the audience entertained.

Her fingers curled slightly. “And you?”

Caleb tilted his head. “What about me?”

She gestured vaguely. “You forced your way in. Which means you’re either my mentor, my handler, or some new Capitol experiment.”

He studied her, quiet for too long, before saying, “I’m here to make sure you survive.”

She didn’t know what to do with that.

Because there was something unsettling about the way he said it. Like it wasn’t just an objective. Like it wasn’t just duty.

Like it was personal.

She looked away first. Outside, the hovercraft was already descending, the glowing skyline of the Capitol stretching beneath them.

It was beautiful.

And it was a graveyard.

They were about to be thrown into a machine designed to tear them apart. And she still didn’t know why the man across from her had chosen to step inside it with her.

But one thing was clear.

Whatever his reasons, whatever he wasn’t saying—

Caleb wasn’t going to let her die.

And that might’ve been the most dangerous thing of all.

The hovercraft descended into the heart of the Capitol, the neon skyline shifting from a distant blur into something towering and suffocating. Buildings stretched high enough to disappear into the clouds, their sleek metal surfaces reflecting the glow of holographic advertisements. Bright screens displayed last year’s Hunter Games champion, a sharp-jawed boy dressed in golden armor, smiling like he hadn’t torn through twenty other tributes to get here.

The hovercraft docked on a landing platform that was too clean, too sterile. The moment the doors slid open, the artificial scent of processed air and something vaguely floral hit her nose. It smelled like a place that had never known real dirt, never known hunger or desperation.

Capitol attendants were already waiting—dressed in shimmering, impractical outfits, their skin airbrushed to perfection. She barely had time to get her bearings before one of them stepped forward, flashing a too-bright smile.

“Welcome, tributes! Right this way.”

She forced herself to move, stepping onto the platform with the same numbness she’d felt since the reaping.

Caleb was right behind her.

She didn’t know why she kept looking for him—why the solid presence of him at her back made her nerves settle instead of spike. But she did. And it unsettled her almost as much as the Capitol’s suffocating opulence.

A camera drone zipped in close, scanning them both, projecting their faces onto a screen above. The words DISTRICT IV TRIBUTES flashed beneath their images.

People in the town murmured. Some leaned forward, eager for a first look at this year’s new prey. Others watched with the detached amusement of people who would never have to step into the arena themselves.

She could already feel them assigning labels.

Would she be forgettable? A sacrifice? A tragic figure to cry over before the real show began?

And then there was Caleb.

They didn’t know what to do with him.

A colonel in the Games wasn’t normal. The murmurs grew louder, questioning. Whispering. A Capitol official in a crisp suit gestured for one of the attendants, eyes narrowing as he spoke.

She glanced at Caleb. “So… you really weren’t supposed to be here, huh?”

Caleb didn’t look at her, just kept walking forward. “No.”

The admission should’ve scared her. Instead, it made her pulse quicken for an entirely different reason.

The grand entrance of the Tribute Tower loomed ahead—a massive glass structure built solely to house the competitors before the Games. As they stepped inside, a holographic display of the Capitol’s logo shimmered above them, accompanied by a soft, artificial voice.

WELCOME, TRIBUTES. PREPARE FOR THE EXPERIENCE OF A LIFETIME.

She barely resisted the urge to scoff.

A set of attendants approached, separating her from Caleb in one swift motion.

“This way, dear,” one of them said, guiding her toward a long hallway lined with marble and gold trim. “We’ll get you cleaned up for the Opening Ceremony. You want to look your best, don’t you?”

She turned slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Caleb before they pulled him in the opposite direction.

For the first time, his gaze met hers fully.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

Because something unspoken passed between them in that brief second.

Something that felt suspiciously like a promise.

Then the doors closed, and she was alone.

The hallway smelled like artificial roses and something chemical, a scent so sharp it stung the inside of her nose. Everything here was too clean, too polished, too perfect—designed for the people who had never known struggle, never worked their hands raw, never bled for something they couldn’t keep.

She hated it already.

The attendants guided her into a pristine white room, the walls smooth and seamless, as if they had been molded rather than built. A glass platform in the center illuminated as she stepped onto it, a soft chime sounding as an AI scanned her body.

“Preliminary evaluation complete. Commencing preparation process.”

The attendants wasted no time. Hands—cold, impersonal—pulled at her clothes, unfastening buttons, peeling fabric from her skin. She stiffened instinctively, her breath catching as they stripped her down without ceremony.

Her clothes, the last thing connecting her to home, were tossed into a disposal chute without hesitation.

Gone.

Just like that.

She was naked before she could process it, surrounded by strangers who didn’t even have the decency to pretend to care.

“Arms up,” one of them instructed. “We need to remove all the excess.”

She barely had time to ask what excess? before a warm, sticky substance was smeared over her legs, arms, and anywhere else the Capitol deemed unworthy.

Then came the ripping.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

It wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt—nothing compared to a deep wound or the ache of hunger—but it was the humiliation of it. The raw exposure. The way they talked over her, not to her, as if she were nothing more than a project being refined into something presentable.

Her skin burned by the time they were done, stripped raw under the bright lights.

Then came her hair.

One of the attendants examined it with a critical eye, fingers prodding at her scalp. “We’ll need to smooth this out,” she murmured, already reaching for a brush.

Her stomach twisted.

She clenched her fists. She knew what was coming.

The first pass wasn’t too bad, but the second—

A sharp pull.

Her scalp screamed in protest, her head yanked back as the attendant worked with mechanical efficiency, oblivious to the sharp sting radiating from each tug.

She held her breath.

Another pull.

Her fingers curled tighter.

She wouldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

But when they reached the knots at the base of her skull, ripping through them without care, the pain sent sharp pricks behind her eyes.

She blinked rapidly, but it didn’t stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks.

Silent. Unnoticed.

Just another thing for them to strip away.

“Almost done,” the attendant said cheerfully, as if she wasn’t yanking her head like a ragdoll. “You’ll look stunning for the ceremony!”

She wanted to tell them she didn’t care about looking stunning. That she didn’t want to be something pretty for the Capitol to admire before they threw her into the dirt.

But she stayed silent.

Because it didn’t matter.

It never did.

By the time they finished, her body felt foreign—smooth where it shouldn’t be, styled in a way that didn’t belong to her.

They wrapped her in a robe, soft and expensive, guiding her toward another room where stylists awaited.

As they led her forward, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective wall.

She looked like a stranger.

And she hated her.

By the time they were done with her body, they moved on to her hair.

She sat stiffly in a plush chair, the fabric too smooth, too foreign against her stripped-down skin. The stylists surrounded her like architects examining blueprints, their eyes sharp with calculation.

“We should straighten it,” one suggested, running a comb through her curls with far too much force.

“No,” another chimed in, twisting a section between their fingers. “Texture is in this year. Let’s enhance it.”

She exhaled slowly through her nose, already exhausted. She wasn’t sure what was worse—the pain of them yanking through her scalp, or the way they talked about her like she wasn’t sitting right in front of them.

At least this time, they weren’t completely careless.

The hands that worked through her hair now were more delicate, though not out of kindness. It was precision. They conditioned, softened, twisted each strand into something elegant, something that would look effortless but had taken painstaking effort to achieve.

When they finally stepped back, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Her hair had been shaped into an intricate design, cascading down one side, threaded with delicate metallic strands that shimmered under the light. It wasn’t her, not really. But at least it wasn’t stripped away.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and turned away.

Then came the dress.

They led her to a display where rows of shimmering gowns hovered in the air, each one programmed with effects that reacted to movement. Some flickered like fire, others rippled like water, shifting colors as the fabric swayed.

“For the ceremony, you need to make an impression,” the lead stylist said, gesturing to the options. “The Capitol loves a tribute with presence.”

She barely heard them.

Her gaze had already landed on one dress, and something inside her cracked.

Her favorite color.

She didn’t even mean to laugh, but the sound burst out of her—loud, sharp, and broken.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as she covered her mouth, shaking her head. “Of course,” she choked out. “Of course they’d have one in my favorite color.”

The stylists exchanged confused glances, unsure if she was amused or unraveling.

Maybe it was both.

She reached for the dress, fingers brushing over the material. It was smooth, impossibly soft, but beneath the surface, she could feel the embedded tech, ready to activate at a moment’s notice.

The fabric pulsed, reacting to her touch. A slow shimmer ran through it, the color deepening, shifting like liquid under moonlight.

It was beautiful.

It was ridiculous.

It was hers.

“I’ll take this one,” she said, her voice steadier now.

The stylists hesitated before nodding, pleased with her choice.

As they helped her into the gown, adjusting the fit, setting the effects to highlight every movement, she stared at herself in the mirror once more.

The stranger was still there.

But this time, beneath all the Capitol’s work, there was something else.

A flicker of her.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

By the time they finished preparing her, the weight of everything settled over her shoulders like an iron chain. The gown clung to her frame perfectly, its advanced fabric shifting ever so slightly with her movements, rippling like water under the bright artificial lights.

The color—her color—stood out against the cold, sterile surroundings.

She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

A set of attendants ushered her down a corridor lined with reflective panels, the sleek, high-tech design making it impossible to forget where she was. Every few steps, the floor beneath her pulsed, scanning her biometrics. The Capitol left nothing unchecked.

Then, the doors at the end of the hallway slid open, revealing a lavish waiting chamber.

And there he was.

Caleb.

She came to an abrupt stop.

He was already dressed for the ceremony, standing with the kind of stillness that made people uneasy. His uniform had been replaced with something undeniably designed to impress—black, sharply tailored, lined with faint streaks of silver that pulsed like slow lightning beneath the fabric. The effects were subtle, but when he moved, the suit seemed almost alive, shifting with the kind of controlled power that the Capitol adored.

Of course they’d make him look like a leader. A warrior.

But she didn’t care about that.

She only cared about the fact that he was here. That the Capitol had let him be here.

That he had forced his way into this nightmare right alongside her.

He looked up, his gaze landing on her immediately.

And then—something flickered in his expression.

Not surprise. Not admiration.

Something deeper.

Something unreadable.

She swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how ridiculous she must look. Dressed up like a doll, painted, polished, made into something more palatable for the audience that would soon be watching their every move.

His gaze swept over her once, calculating, before returning to her face. “You picked that?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What, does it offend you?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Then, in a low, unreadable tone, he said, “No.”

Silence stretched between them.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected. A comment about the absurdity of it all? A reminder that they were about to be paraded around like showpieces before being thrown into a death match?

But he just kept looking at her, as if trying to decipher something she didn’t understand herself.

Finally, she crossed her arms. “Well? Do I look like a proper tribute now?”

Caleb’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You look like someone the Capitol won’t forget.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning.

Before she could decide, an official strode into the room, checking a holographic tablet before gesturing toward the exit. “You’re up next. Don’t keep them waiting.”

Her heart slammed once against her ribs.

This was it.

The first real moment where the world would see her. Where she’d step into the light, not as a district worker, not as a girl who had volunteered for a child she didn’t even know—

But as a tribute.

A piece in the Capitol’s game.

She inhaled slowly, forcing herself to move.

But just as she passed Caleb, his voice came low and steady, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Don’t let them define you.”

She turned slightly, meeting his gaze one last time before the doors opened—

And the world swallowed her whole.

A/n : thanks for reading maybe I’ll post more later in the night if I’m up but it’s a lot to have for format and edit this ngl. But I appreciate the likes feel free to repost with credits please.

Tags:

@mysticcollectionvoid

[tokkiwrites]

in which kraven gets very jealous and needs to remind y/n that she's his. this is a continuation to another one-shot i wrote (check pinned 📌)

tags: keaven x fem!reader, afab!reader, use of y/n because yes, dom!kraven, kind of dark kraven of you squint, sub!reader, degradation, deah (mentioned like twice), pet names (kraven calls reader doll, bun, bunny, pet), kraven likes to be called master (ik right?!?!?), p in v sex unprotected (don't be whimpy, wrap that pp), lmk if i missed anything !!!

it was O8:O4 PM, where was she? she'd been such a good obedient pet up until now. Is this the moment she wanted to slip? as those thoughts fill kraven's mind, the sound of keys jangling at the door snaps him awake.

she's here.

y/n timidly pushed open the door to her cozy apartment. A faint blush graced her cheeks as she entered, her sparkling eyes revealing a hint of embarrassment.

she knows she's late.

Carrying her books and course materials, y/n's steps were light, almost as if she tiptoed through the space. Her frame was adorned in a pastel sundress that swayed with every movement. A subtle floral fragrance trailed behind her, making kraven visibility hard.

As she walked further into the apartment, she set her books down onto the couch before stopping in front of kraven, who was sat in the doorway to her room.

" 'm sorry for being late. "

"care to explain why you're late, bunny?"

" had to stay a bit more at uniㅡ teacher said he needed my help with something."

he...

HE?!

"what did he need that was so important, bunny, hm?" kraven stepped closer to y/n, dragging his calloused finger over her rosy cheek.

moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a cold glow on them. It was evident that kraven wasn't going to let her off with just a warning, no matter what the motive for her being late is.

With a sigh that ragged through her throat, y/n looked up at kraven through her lashes, hoping he'd at least be a bit more endearing this time.

"answer me, doll. y'know i hate when you make me ask twice, yeah?" y/n swallows thick, nodding her head in response. "heㅡ um, he wanted me to ask where i got my p-perfume fromㅡ he wants to get it for his, uh.. girlfriend..."

kraven's gaze sharpened, turning into a piercing stare that seemed to bore into her soul. His jaw clenched. "that so?"

his silent but intense gaze spoke volumes, conveying the deep displeasure with the situation. "p-please don't do anythingㅡ he was only being nice-"

But her words were abruptly silenced by her boyfriend's stern command, "quiet."

A shiver ran down y/n's spine as she felt a mix of fear and anticipation. She knew she should run, remove herself from the brewing storm, but something inside her hesitated. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins or the thrill of the forbidden, but she found herself rooted to the spot.

Her heart raced, and a warm, tingling sensation spread through her belly. It was a confusing mix of emotions - fear, desire, and a hint of excitement. She wanted to reach out to him, to ease his worries, but the intensity of his gaze had her frozen in place.

In that charged moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and she couldn't deny the want of the storm that threatened to consume them bothㅡ her even more.

As the tension hung heavily in the room, kraven took a slow, deliberate step towards her, his eyes still locked onto hers. His earlier anger seemed to have evolved into a complex whirlwind of emotions, making his intentions unclear.

y/n's heart pounded louder in her chest, her breaths shallow as she watched him approach. She couldn't decipher what he was thinking, but a part of her yearned for his touch, even in this moment of uncertainty.

His other hand, which had been clenched tightly at his side, slowly reached out, hesitatingly brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "beg."

"s-sorryㅡ?" she stammered, her voice trembling. "i said beg. beg if you don't want me to take you to his house, fuck you in front of him then rip apart his body right after."

"k-kraven Iㅡ"

"so you want that."

"god, no! 'course i don't i justㅡ he was just being friendly, you know..." she whispered, her voice quivering. "you know I'm only yours."

kraven's face contorted with a mixture of anger and jealously, eyes glinting gold. y/n's words hung in the air. His grip on her hair tightened slightly, causing a sharp pain that made her wince.

"think that's enough, bunny?" he hissed. " think you can just say those words and everything will be fine? you are mine and that's why I won't tolerate anyone else trying to take you away from me."

kraven's words were laced with possessiveness, and y/n could see the turmoil within him. she struggled to find the right words to soothe his anger, but at the same time she wanted to let her mind go blank. in this moment ㅡ his idea sounded kind of good.

for a long, tense moment, kraven didn't speak. The room felt suffocating.

"on your knees."

"whㅡ" taken by surprize, she's pushes down, making a loud thud as she hit the cold floor.

"c'mon, bunny...you know what i want." he smiles darkly, hand still tangled in y/n's hair. "make that pretty head of yours think and tell me what i want to hear, yeah?"

kraven's smile sent a shiver down her spine. she knew what he wanted from her. Her mind raced, struggling to find the wordsㅡ her heard pounding in her chest, the loud thumps echoing in her head, nothing was accepting to leave her lips, it was all getting stuck.

"c'mon, doll. don't make me wait." he growls menacingly.

"p-pleaseㅡ" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "please, i know I've been bad. and iㅡ i need to be punished for what i did, i shouldn't have worn that perfume to his class."

"yeah.." he hums reaching for her chin and making y/n loon up "but you were a little whore who wanted to get attention, yeah?"

"y-yes.."

"guess i should fuck you like the little whore you are, huh?"

the room seemed to close in on her, the tension and lust between them so palpable. "gotta hear you beg more, though. gotta hear you cry before i fuck you stupid."

fear gripped her heart, the intensity of his demands and his dark demeanor filled her with a deep sense of the situation. Simultaneously, desire smoldered within her. His possessiveness, his filthy wordsㅡ the raw power he exuded ignited something in her she couldn't explain. the intensity of his words, though tinged with danger, had a mesmerizing effect on her.

towering above her, in the night's veil, kraven was shrouded in darkness, his presence like a labyrinth and his power over y/n like an unsolved puzzleㅡ an unspoken rule.

she should be more scared of him, yet she sits there and takes it, each of his commands, she obeys and does as she's told. his strength was evident in every moveㅡ he didn't need to say a word. he's a silent tempest that leaves an indelible mark.

y/n leans in forward, palms flush to the floor "please show meㅡ show me how to be good, please... i don't wanna think, jus' want to be you dumb bunnyㅡ"

"you're so pathetic, doll. even from the first day i saw you, i could smell it on you... could smell you were made for taking this cockㅡㅡ made for me to break and use."

y/n presses her thighs together, her panties now wet with her slick, sticking to the fold of her pussy. "k-kravenㅡ"

slap.

"wrong." he chuckles murkily "try it again, pet."

y/n sniffles, her cheeks stinging from the harsh slap delivered to it. "master."

"see, that wasn't so hard, huh? now...you gonna be a good girl and listen to me?"

"y-yes, master."

kraven hums, rubbing his finger onto the cheek he slapped, smiling contently as the skin flushed a bright red.

"get undressed and bend over the counter. now."

y/n swiftly compiles, scrambling to her feet and discarding the frilly dress she had on. her skin tightened as the cold air hit it. even so, she still removed her panties that had accumulated a big wet splotch in the middle of them.

obliging kraven's orders, she bends over the counter, her bare ass and cunt on full display. "mm.." kraven licks his lips before palming the small of her back "so pretty for me, bunny."

she completely shattered under his touch, his fingertips drawing small fires that spread through her in clusters, a desperate whine escaping past her lips.

"master, pleaseㅡ" kraven strongly grabs her by the hair, pulling her in a way that makes y/n arch her back. he leans into her ear, his enormous bulge pressing firmly against y/n's ass.

"did i say you can talk yet? are you so dumb, bun?"

y/n shakes her head, mewling at the sensation of kraven's facial hair against her skin.

"wanted to fuck you stupid, but since you're such a dumb whore already ㅡ maybe if i fuck you hard enough ... I'll bring some sense in that pretty brain of yours, yeah?"

y/n bites back another moan, succumbing to kravens touch, his palms making their way up her torso and to her breasts, kneading them roughly.

pushing back her hips in gripe, she manages to gets her face unwaveringly pressed to the countertop "don't be greedy now, doll. gotta see you work for it..." with that he nimbly plunged two fingers into y/n's mouth, making her gasp.

"suck if you want this cock inside of you, pet."

that's all she needed to hear, fleetly wrapping her lips around his thick fingers, sucking and swirling her tongue around them like there was no tomorrow. drool started to drip down her chin, her moans vibrating vigorously onto kravens skin.

pushing the fingers deeper, he wins a muffled gag, her tongue pressed flush against them. "yeah, good fucking pet." her walls were twitching around nothing, her warm wetness spreading between her thighs that were parted by kraven's knee.

he retrieves his fingers from her mouth, y/n starting to pule at their sudden lack. kravens laughs, as if mocking her at the same time pulling his sweatpants down only a bit, letting his dripping cock spring free and slap against his abdomen.

"want me to prep you, doll?"

"n-no, masterㅡ please..."

"fuck, bunny, ill rip right through you." he smiles somberly "you're such a filthy, filthy girl."

inhaling a sharp breath, her muscles tense up as kraven plunges inside of her wetness all at once, with no warning. she writhes in pain, tears already welling at the corner of her glossy eyes.

"fuck, look at that tight pussy swallowing me all in." he groans, sinking his fingernails into the plush of her skin "c'mon, doll, show me you're sorry for being such an attention whore. show me you're sorry so i don't kill that bitch and fuck you over his dead body."

it was all so wrong, so dirty and vile, but it was making her tummy churn and blood pulse through her veins like nothing else. she felt so insane for liking the ideas kraven put into her head, she loved feeling insane as long as he was with her.

her head now filled with murky thoughts, vision hazy, y/n feels her body being plunged further into the kitchen surface, hips violently crashing agains the hard material. "you take this cock so well, bunnyㅡ fuck!"

his movements become so fast, it sends y/n practically into another dimensionㅡ at least that's how she feels. her eyes roll back, and for a second, she's pretty sure she can see into the future.

"gonna come, bunny? huh? you gonna come around my cock?"

"yes, m-aster!" her body feels warm and fuzzy as she senses her orgasm approaching. "p-leaseㅡ!"

"go ahead, doll." kraven grunts, hitting that spot perfectly. he feels himself close too, brows furrowed as he pushes inside deeper and harder. "shitㅡ bunny, I'm gonna fill you up so good. gonna make you keep this cum inside of you all day."

with a loud plead, y/n releases, her walls tightening around kravens shaft, causing him to growl. she starts shaking, her thighs uncontrollably wriggling, barely holding herself up if it wasn't for the counter.

kraven pumps himself a few more times, at last releasing and painting y/n's insides with warm, white ribbons. they're both left panting, y/n babbling incoherently.

"thank y-ou, kraven.."

"you liked it?" he asked, amused. "so that's why you keep on misbehaving, bun. "

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : hi guys!!! this might have some grammar mistakes, oh WELL. its 2.1k words so kind of short SORRAYYY, wrote this for a special someone u know who u are wink wink ;) but thank you all for supporting me, i know im at the beginning of my journey, but I've already grown so much. hope you enjoyed day 7 of tokki's kinktober <3 (now proofread !!)

[echantedtoon]

Father To Be P2

In a since, some of the upper moons reaction to holding their child(ren) for the first time. Plus how they react to their birth.

Warnings for pregnancy/birth mentions

All art found on Pinterest and not mine. Doing the rest of the male Moons. Couldn't find any relevant pictures for Yahaba or Hairou.

KAIGAKU:

*He's already not prepared to be a parent let alone go through the entire hardships of labor. So when you go into labor he either faints or he's freaking out yelling at everyone. You, the doctor and midwife, himself, and even the baby(ies) despite them not even being present yet.

*He's not really moving out of the room. Whether it's because he's genuinely worried about you or because he's frozen in fear is unclear, but he's completely frozen as you destroy his hand and arm.

*Once he hears the baby(ies) crying he's still frozen solid. Not numb or yelling. Just..still. Staring off into space as his brain is blue screening. He's still that way as the doctors are taking care of you and even when they congratulate him before placing his child(ren) in his arms.

*He still sits there for a few hours just staring off at nothing holding them to where it starts to concern you. "Hun, are you ok?" ".....Yeah. why?" Give him a few more hours. He's still trying to process the entire situation he's in and trying to figure out a good excuse to tell Muzan for why he's bringing a diaper bag to the next few meetings.

GYOKKO:

*(for the Gyokko fans) He's probably not going to be too present for the birth tbh. His appearance alone would scare away any doctors and he wants you to have a safe experience. So it'd be safer to just stay in his nearby pot and agonizingly wait a few hours as the doctors worked and then left.

*trust me it's not a delightful experience for him to do nothing but wait for hours on end as you screamed bloody murder. But it was worth it when you both were finally able to be alone and he has a moment to look over his child(ren).

*They look surprisingly normal except for a few specks on their arms and legs that might be scales and purple hair. Surprisingly they aren't afraid of him despite his appearance.

*He suggests making them a pot large enough to use as a cradle for them but you shut that right down.

ENMU:

*Is very unnaturally calm during the entire process. He'd probably suggest to you that maybe he'd be the one to help you during labor but as he wasn't a real doctor he'd later change his mind. Much like Kokushibo, he'd rather have this be as safe as possible so he'd just silently offer encouragement to you as you murdered his hand allowing the doctors to work, real doctors too.

*He's just calmly smiling throughout the entire process even when you curse him out for putting you in this situation.

*When the deed's finally done and everything is calm, he's not waiting for the doctor to hand him his baby(ies). No he's holding his arms straight out EXPECTING them to hand them over. An excited smile on his face as he chirps away with happiness.

*Speaking of chirping good luck on getting any rest that night. He's going to be non stop talking all night to and about his baby(ies) to the point you are going to have to either throw a pillow at him or tell him to shut up and let all of you rest.

*He's taking care of you and your baby(ies) really well during this time aside from the talking however so you can't complain too much.

KYOGAI:

*He's panicking of course when you first go into labor. But he's a collected freaking out. By that I mean, he's freaking out while taking his time to carefully move you to a comfortable position or quickly getting what you need with shaking hands and his teleporting skills.

*He's still freaking out however despite how much he seems calm on the outside- "It's alright. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out-" "Kyo. I'm fine." "I know. I was talking to myself."

*Steadying himself on his knees, he's holding both your hands shaking and trying to mentally calm himself down as your practically screaming in his ears.

*Almost falls over himself once he hears his baby(ies) cry out for the first time. He's watching in complete awe as the midwife handles the tiny crying being before he's handed a whimpering little bundle(s). He's shaking so badly as he slowly accepts the tiny being(s) in his arms, trying not to shake as badly as he is.

*He's so scared as he looks at his child(ren)...and then he melts seeing their chubby chunk cheeks and chunky little body(ies). Holy cow. We're they supposed to be so small and squishy? He's in love at first sight and just holds the squishy little bundle(s) in his arms gently. May or may not have cried.

HAIROU:

*He. FREAKS. Out.

*The moment he knows that he's about to become a father he's overwhelmed by a symphony of fear, panic, anxiety, worry, and frustration(not at you but because he's not prepared for the situation). Excuse him for just a few seconds. He has to run into the woods to clear his head before he can steal himself to come back and help you with a clearer mind.

*Nevermind that he's still shaking like a wet cat in winter as he runs around and tries to help you. Key word tries. His anxiety gets too much that he has to leave the room at your insistence and wait outside before he decides to 'clear his mind' in front of the doctor and freak him out too.

*Had to step outside to have some breathing room before he becomes overwhelmed again to that point. Doesn't go back inside until all the screaming has stopped and things are calm for everyone's sanity. Eventually he'll walk back in to you holding the baby(ies) and offering to let him hold them.

*He refuses at first but eventually you convince him to hold them carefully putting them in his arms. He freezes up seeing them... before tears build up in his eyes and he cries from the rush of emotions. Give him twenty minutes. He's just a bit overwhelmed by pride and joy.

YAHABA:

*He refuses to hold them when they're born. He's gonna stay while his child(ren) is delivered to make sure you're but he's not holding the baby(ies).

*You won't be seeing him. Like at all. Bro disappears and stays ten feet away at all times whenever he bothers to stop by to just check up on you both.

*Man's a germophobe and while he'll reluctantly watch the baby(ies) and make sure nothing harms them, he won't bother coming close or making physical contact beyond making them take a bath or until they're a teenager(s) because he doesn't like the messes that comes with little kids and babies.

[lakesbian]

welcome to my post about why blake and rose from the wildbow webserial "pact" are doppelgangers of each other, which fucks

a doppelganger is literally defined as someone who looks identical to another person (while being unrelated to them), and while rose and blake look very similar because they are male and female iterations of the same person, no one is going to be mistaking them for each other. so one may ask: then how in the world are they doppelgangers. (it's me, i asked myself that while trying to figure out why i instinctively called them doppelgangers.) to which the answer is: they tick virtually every other box that doppelgangers are associated with so precisely that they've managed to become the world's first set of doppelgangers who do not actually look identical

doppelgangers are frequently written as unnerving due to unclear origin and intent--a doppelganger's lack of appearance distinct from a preexisting character is often associated with lack of a distinct & traceable identity, which is consequently associated with lack of clear intent, which means potential for ill intent. they are often intuitively interpreted as a potential threat encroaching on a place in the world that only one person was supposed to be able to fill. the "evil twin" type of horror story, the idea of being interchangeable with someone or something else who steals your life. maybe they follow the theft up by ruining or hurting who or what you cared about. maybe they just keep living cheerfully in your place while you're locked out. either way, the core idea is the horror of being completely replaceable.

and that's fundamentally what blake and rose are polarized against each other over. the central determining factor in their relationship is the fact that, even before they realize it, they're in a fight over who gets to exist. they used to be the same person, but that person got ontologically torn in half, and only one of the halves can fit in the space in the universe where the whole used to be. only one half gets to have the house, and the friends, and the feelings, and the life.

when rose is first introduced to blake, it's mysteriously and abruptly. rose is clearly frazzled and confused herself, she states clear intent to help blake, and blake quickly receives proof that rose's message to him was life-saving. yet even before anything markedly suspicious occurs, he's still intrinsically afraid of--and right to be afraid of--theoretical hidden intent. rose is slated to replace him in his own life while he acts as a lamb to slaughter for her, she knows it, she hides it from him, and she does take his place as intended. it's only by a sort of cosmically fortunate misfortune that blake still exists afterwards to realize that his paranoia was validated and experience the rage and despair of watching her unknowingly reveal the mechanisms through which she deceived him to his friends, who are none the wiser about the fact that they ever knew him instead of rose.

then it's rose's turn after blake climbs back out of oblivion and barges back into her life--being erased from the universe's memory means that he was erased from her memory too, and now she's the one in the spot of questioning how she could ever prove that this person who looks exactly like her-but-wrong (and knows so much about her life, and talks like her sometimes, and acts like her sometimes) actually has the decent intents he claims he does. and after she learns where he truly came from--the cleaving of the person they both used to be--the fear is only stronger, because she knows that he has impetus to fight to replace her so that he can be the extant one.

and i've said all of this without citing specific excerpts from the book because it is much harder to find pact excerpts than worm excerpts, but i definitely remember multiple of the little moments that highlight these more overarching ideas: blake first seeing rose in the mirror and having to touch his chest and watch as the movement fails to align to verify that it's not him. blake finishing a sentence the same way as rose at the same time as her and rose's following displeasure. rose and blake's former friends standing in front of him once he's the one in the mirror, discussing him as a potential threat. it's Good. they both get their turn on being the doppelganger. they both get their turn on being the threat of replacement. it's good. when will the horror enjoying wormfans read pact and think about blake and rose with me.

[killervelveteenrabbit]

Reaction to “El Toro de Piedras” (S6, E7)

After much consideration, I’ve decided to publish reactions based on the .to leaks rather than waiting for the Disney broadcast. While I want to support the official release, the fact is that Disney’s scheduling of premieres is erratic and unpredictable, and there’s a strong chance that one new episode, “The Ruler”, may never air on Disney at all. And let’s be real: everyone is already watching the French rips on the Tongan site anyway.

Raúl makes an immediate and fearful impression, physically taking up the entire screen. His plan to steal the Mona Lisa is a grand spectacle intended not only to reestablish himself as a supervillain but to carry his legacy into a new generation. (Incidentally, the subtitles have Raúl calling Ivan “mi miro”, but this isn’t a phrase in Spanish. It appears to be the editor’s mistranslation of “mi mijo”, or “my son”.)

Gabriel Agreste as we knew him would never surrender the time or the dignity to record a message implanted into a stuffed toy. What happened? Adrien traces the change to when Gabriel started “traveling”. It seems Gabriel's obsession with finding a cure for Emilie’s illness, followed by his quest to capture the Miraculous and revive her, caused him to lose sight of and neglect the person at the very heart of it all.

Why hide such an important message in an old photo album? I suspect Gabriel was attempting a combination Batman-Thanatos Gambit. Gabriel anticipated that if he died, a mourning and sentimental Adrien would look through all those boxes, discover the note and its commission while doing so, and in a moment of grief and emotional vulnerability pledge to fulfill his father’s mission, bringing both his parents back. Again, Gabriel is not the same person who recorded that message for Froggy.

We only see Luka from the shoulders up, although we know his new look incorporates an open shirt :O

It’s unclear how Luka can support the Miraculers while in self-imposed exile in Brazil. One thing hasn’t changed, however: his empath ability. He’s the only one who notices something’s up with Marinette.

Ivan’s increasingly frantic drumming forms an inadvertent backdrop to the tense conversation between Marinette and Nathalie: a brilliant choice by the writers.

Chronologically, this episode precedes “Revelator” (ep 11). Airing that episode first creates the false impression that Alya planted Marinette's initial doubts regarding her secret, whereas in reality Marinette has been pondering the implications since London.

Who was that sitting on the bench outside Maison Agreste as Ivan left, and then approached the men’s room as he went in? Surely this must be Cerise in another brilliant disguise. She was counting on Ivan getting upset enough to warrant akumatization, and when Ivan didn’t rise to that level of frustration, she pivoted to Raúl.

Um… can we talk to whoever within the “Nouvelle Chance” initiative that assigned a former supervillain to a security detail at a museum housing thousands of priceless objets d’art? They couldn’t find him a position on a loading dock somewhere?

Ivan made the best decision he could under the circumstances. Going along with Raúl’s plot was never an option, but dropping a dime on him would guarantee his return to prison. Stealing the duffel bag and leaving the note in its place split the difference. It’s not his fault Raúl reacted so badly to it.

Most abusive parents are former abused children. They inflict the same maladaptive parenting styles on their children because it’s all they know… and perhaps because the strict parenting “worked” somehow, gave them an alleged mental or social advantage that supposedly vindicates and justifies everything they suffered. Hence, Raúl must raise Ivan as a “bull” to keep him from becoming a weak and exploitable “dairy cow”. (As an aside, I’m guessing it was Ivan’s maternal grandmother who raised him. Otherwise, he would already exhibit “bull” tendencies.)

The letter as a prompt for an akumatization is a callback to Ivan becoming Stoneheart during the “Origins” two-parter. His first akumatization happened because of the note Kim passed to Ivan taunting him about his feelings for Mylène; the second time, the trigger was a crumpled sheet of paper on which Ivan wrote a song for her. And those of you who speak Spanish have already observed the connection between Stoneheart and “El Toro de Piedras”, or “the bull of stone”, who wants his son to have “a heart of stone” as well.

Damn, Toro even scares Chrysalis within her own dimensional space!

The tribute to Mayor Bustier testifies to the value of the lessons she tried to impart. Granted, some of her students (i.e., Chloe and Lila) took advantage of her humanistic approach, the same way Raúl exploited the Nouvelle Chance program. It’s the risk you take when you appeal to people’s better natures and reach out to “habitual offenders”. Sometimes you get tricked, but the difference you make in so many people’s lives makes it worth it.

Nathaniel’s statement about how Mme. Bustier taught the kids how to “fight for their beliefs” becomes dangerously relevant in “The Ruler”, which broke containment the following week.

Minotaurox summoning Ladybug to the sewers isn’t just a matter of convenience. Ivan feels like shit and considers himself a piece of shit.

This may be a French show, but I can’t help feeling like this episode was made for the American audience, considering the United States has the highest incarceration rate of any developed country, and five times that of France. That means a lot of kids with a parent in jail, to the point that Sesame Workshop created a toolkit on the subject. Ivan’s struggles are the same ones faced by many children with incarcerated parents: the inherent estrangement, the social stigma, loving the parent but hating their offense, and worrying they too will become a “bad” person.

Juleka’s another child in her father’s shadow, coping with estrangement and the expectations of others. Season 1 Juleka could never have pulled off that solo performance. As her song explains, support from Miss Bustier helped her find a voice, part of the “legacy” she created within Collège Françoise Dupont.

Am I the only one who noticed the yellow tint on the fight scene, as if the animators put a Mexican filter on it?

Usually, it’s Ladybug or Chat Noir who breaks the akumatized object. But this time, Ivan did it, breaking both the whip and his father’s symbolic control.

This isn’t the first time LB has successfully prevented an akumatization victim from getting arrested, as previously seen in “Qilin”. And both times, the cops honor her request. Compare that to first-season episodes like “Copycat” and “Rogercop” where the police treated Ladybug and Chat Noir like either nuisances or criminals.

So more people besides Tomoe Tsurugi (obviously “the Machine”) had interests in Gabriel procuring the two main Miraculous, and they’re not pleased that Gabriel used them for “selfish” purposes. Nathalie’s father is a member of “the Council”… perhaps this was why Nathalie assented to the custody agreement proposed in “Werepapas”, so Adrien would not become entangled in the Council’s machinations or Nathalie’s obligations toward it.

[astroyongie]

Astroyongie Podcast S01 E01

Note: This is the sum up resume of the Podcast held on my discord channel voice channel. Another episode will open next week.

All notes were made by the talented @killuachii <3

Censured Version

Connection between Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Chungha?

→ Hongjoong-Chungha: some type of connection, some type of relationship, not romantic but are

close, share friends together, at the moment close friends one might have crush on other

→ Seonghwa-Chungha: not very good relationship, Chungha pick me perception, might not like her very much, energy feels off, Seonghwa tends to not like female friends of the members, possessive?

On going problem between txt and one female managers/supervisor. What’s the situation?

→ two members who had complications: Beomgyu, Taehyun,

Beomgyu: issue happened a few years ago, had rumors/scandals, a time where everyone thought he would leave, behind the scenes: had a very unhealthy way to cope with relationships, slept around a lot which managers had to step in, felt very overwhelmed with the music industry, fame, tours, coping: unhealthy relationships, that stayed, one sponsor left so they had to find another one, Beomgyu doesn’t like how company treats him, how group/life/paycheck is handled, is very frustrated, has to wear a mask and can never express himself, troubles with one female and one male manager, everytime he wants to do something for himself they restrict him, member could be caught in the middle

Taehyun: has some clashes, is very reserved, thinks in a certain way, company tells him what to do and so fights happen between him and the manager

Enhypen currently preparing for comeback: what are the thoughts on the comeback?

→ Jungwon: he is happy with the comeback, exactly what he expected, isn’t very stressed, no anxiety, expects that this comeback will get them further than before

Heeseung: just like Jungwon, he also thinks that other members improved their skills a lot, is very content with everything, expect him to have a lot of attention for this comeback

Jay: very tired, a lot of chaotic and heavy energy, he feels like he isn’t ready yet/ not as good as the other members, touching his mental healthy, he likes it but still is unsatisfied with his lines, screentime, etc., a little insecure about the comeback

Jake: super confident/happy, he will slay the boots house down, he is confident with everything he has done for this comeback

Sunghoon: fragile, nothing to do with comeback, his body a little fragile (injury?), pain in the hips, tired, unsure about his movements, how he will perform, afraid he will not exceed expectations of fans

Sunoo: isn’t very happy with the comeback, thinks he is a filler member, thinks company gives more to the other members than to him, not very excited for the comeback, fights in the background, had issues with his sponsors, stayed a long time without and company didn’t support him to get another sponsor, felt left out

Niki: also in a good mood, expected to show a new version of himself, wants to show his fans that he has worked on himself aesthetically wise, is very confident, expecting to reach a new goal, win new awards and get more recognition

how does stray kids feel about joining Lollapalooza?

→ one member (probably Hyunjin) feels very confident about the performance, wants to show people what he can do, very excited, Minho is also very excited, has no fears. Chan not very excited, probably very tired due to the going from place to place, wants more in Korea, doesn’t want to go to socialize with other idols/performers at the moment one of the members (unclear) going through harsh period, many schedules seem overwhelming, is very tired but in overall very excited

Enhypen has a world tour, thai fans angry at company, in Thailand big event coming up but

Enhypen are not coming to Thailand. Reason why they don’t?

→ connected to the money they would receive (opinion without cards), behind the scenes: for two

reasons: one of the people in the company isn’t doing their job right, made group loose money, while other countries offered more money for them to come one of members sponsors, probably worked some strings to go to another country

what was the reason for bullying and who were the perpetrators/victims?

→ happened in the beginning when they were in iland, victims: A and B perpetrators: X, Y and W, things are better now, members are better, physical/verbal fights, staff would also joke about it, Y was mastermind behind it, W easy to influence when it comes to the people present, when he is with bad people he acts like them, when he is with good people he adapts their way of thinking, C wasn’t doing anything against it but made jokes, main A but B because he protected him and therefore became the next victim, a lot of jealousy + were young boys, X felt guilty later

Does xh’s Gaon have a girlfriend

→ no

can i ask about txt Hueningkai social group? if he has people that will support him in need?

→ he has but they are not physically in his life, people he isn’t with him everyday, groupchat, probably online friends

How is keita pookie doing?

→ is doing fine and good, very focused on finances, investing in himself, wants moneyyy

Who was jake's EX idol girlfriend

→ [Censored]

I wanna ask about Wonwoo Seventeen. Is he still in relationship with his idol girlfriend now after he faced some problems with her recently?

→ still with his gf, have been together for more than 3 years, they will end up marrying probably

Jay and love

→ high standards, easily bored, has honeymoon phase but then looses interest, when relationship gets serious he freaks out, has been with a lot of people, mommy issues

Biggest ego in kpop

→ Jungkook, type to get annoyed when people talk to him, Baekhyun he is type too roll his eyes when people talk to him, a lot of younger idols with big egos

Which group is almost the same on camera and off camera ??

→ too complicated to answer, all groups have their image

Does Yeonjun has mommy issues?

→ doesn’t think he has mommy issues

Who is the idol that you think has beef with the most people?

Wooyoung and Seonghwa from ateez

Is there any idol that you think would be amazing to have as friends? because of their energy or something else

→ Chanyeol, he is always chill, doesn’t push introverts, on the contrary: johnny: doesn’t understand mind of introverts

Was there ever an incident where you do readings for idol and then realize holy shit this bitches gay.

→ yes, [Group censored]

How's Felix love situation rn?

→ very complicated, doesn’t understand his own feelings, very fragile mind, has this one *individual*, gives him unconditional love, he needs it a lot, finds comfort in it, *individual* will lways stay with him despite the toxicity

Continuing the gay theme, have you ever encounter an in-group relationship?

→ [Censored]

all txt members are straight

You've said before that Felix and that dumbass might be soul mates

→ have karmic relationship, might be the reason that their relationship is very complicated

I’ve heard jaemin gf was someone from the company and I've herd there on the verge of breakup

→ complicated, hasn’t done reading on him in a long time, had a longtime relationship with someone of [Group censored], no news if they are still together, doesn’t have insights if he is with someone of the company

Who is Hueningkai idol gf?

→ [Censored]

Will you ever do readings on smaller groups like xh, cravity, etc?

→ currently only JO1

What's happening in han jisung skz love life?

→ ever since he broke up with *individual*, things have been a mess, currently single

Yunho situationship

→ dating life chaos, was dating an idol that wasn’t in Korea but then started flirting with a younger idol, not ongoing, motives: thinks with dick (lmao)

Protecting younger idols?

→ sponsors are not all bad and are professionals for the money, but also some that are perverted, there are no specific things that protect them

What about Wonyoungs sponsor?

→ a powerful man, has an unhealthy obsession with her, is very strict with her image, her weight, etc.

Rei confessed feelings to older member member?

→ was [Name and group censored], but never physical or romantic they just went eating or something crispy and hot tea: *member* also tried to talk to *individual* and tried to snatch him despite Rei’s feelings for that person

Is Seok Matthew dating rn?

→ not dating, his heart is broken, not seeking any relationships and is healing his heart

Which idols would be survivors if a zombie apocalypse happened (Group: Skz)

→ Hyunjin, Felix, Han, Changbin and Jeongin would die, Minho would turn into a Zombie so he can bite Chan’s ass

Sunghoon gf

→ [Censored]

[retroactivebakeries]

Corinsael Ashina

“I am the gold, I am the grain, ne’er has an imperfection marred me: a pilgrim of the Wyrd.”

Corinsael Ashina is a Strategist dying of damnatio memoriae. He is always being written out of history — official  histories, at first, spreading over to any attempt to describe him in the past, and eventually erasing his presence from the past itself. It is therefore his nature to live in the moment, to indulge in fleeting pleasures and give little thought to consequences. It’s really all he can do to keep going.

Some number of millennia ago — the precise count has been rendered unclear — the man who would become Corinsael found a hole in the world, a hole in his people’s history, and now, a hole in him. He told his people of it. He desecrated shrines to the gods of false histories. He was exiled, his name stricken from history, and as he fell into that hole he finally understood what it was: the world was wrong.

He spent the new few…decades? centuries? Doing…Magnum Bellum stuff? And on Earth, some history stuff? He can tell you about it, but it probably won’t stick. That’s why he’s out of the game, these days. Corinsael’s a vain one, and not getting the credit for any of his triumphs just finally got to him, one day. He still thinks the world is wrong and deserves to be destroyed, but the Host isn’t getting any help from him until they’ve apologized properly.

Over the centuries, Corinsael amassed the kind of wealth, political influence, and high-placed connections that an immortal can. Not all of it has been lost to his sickness: a ruined manor, a much put-upon valet, a half-dozen or so prominent figures in his contacts, of which some will still talk to him. Pride demands that he conceal his status as a perpetually embarrassed millionaire, putting on a lavish front despite being a teacher at a community college. (A temporary situation, of course).

Traits

Eide 3, Flore 3, Lore 1, Wyrd 4, Ability 0

Bane: Damnatio Memoriae.

Techniques: Shady Backrooms Dealings. Corinsael excels in matters of  intrigue, politics, corrupt dealings, cover-ups, and general manipulation.

Treasures:

His ruined manor, which can vanish and reappear somewhere else, as if it had always been there. 

His valet, who’s possessed of inhuman strength, speed, resilience, and sensory acuity when acting to protect Corinsael or to perform domestic tasks or uphold social obligations on his behalf.

A sniper rifle, forged from the metal of an ancient sword. It is precise enough to shoot and kill only part of a person: their memories, their cruelty, their hopes and dreams.

The stone head of one of the idols he desecrated, which has devoted itself to seeking atonement for the falsehood it once stood for. Its stony gaze pierces through illusions, strikes a fear into the hearts of liars that prevents them from speaking untruly, and reveals when weird time stuff is having an effect on things.

Sphere: The deep, subtle forces of λ-time and the unkindled impossibilities of alternate λ-histories. Corinsael tames the spirits and creatures that partake of such forces, winning them over to his service. Their appearance tends toward the insectile, the crystalline, and the clockwork. His most frequently used Arcana-pets include:

Intercalary bees build their hives in the gaps where moments of time have been erased. Their honey is a potent hallucinogen that occasionally comes with prophetic foresight.

His stasis spider’s webs that slow down time.

Time flies feed on people’s free time.

His retroactive scorpion’s poison takes effect before its sting.

His parallax moth flickers from place to place without crossing the space in between by skipping through the flow of time, and is large enough to ride.

Destruction: Erase an action done in the recent past, undoing anything directly caused by it.

Eternal: You’re free from aging, hunger, thirst, needing to breathe, fatigue, and most other requirements of human life. You get significant Edge in most endurance contests. Very little requires actual perseverance or Greater Steel — running a marathon is no harder than running down the block.

Sanctum: A monumental memorial to Corinsael, dominated by a colossal statue that bears his visage, around which the statutes of faceless kings kneel in supplication. Megalithic steles record those parts of his history that have been erased, and he can draw them into himself to begin mending his tattered history. The gate that leads to it lies in the catacomb-like basement of his ruined manor.

Infection

Infection 0: Corinsael’s sickness resists being his being recorded in history, but has yet to become efficacious in doing so. Undergrads tend to skim through the pages in their textbooks that mention things he was involved in, even that time he taught a whole seminar on the assassination of JFK. Written accounts have more typos than usual in the parts about him. People discussing him occasionally blank on his name for a second. This doesn’t cover the very recent past — thing that happened within the last few months are safe.

Infection 1: It’s sometimes hard to describe Corinsael’s past. Word documents crash or get corrupted. Things written on paper seem to almost throw themselves into puddles or into the way of falling coffee cups. Undergrads display no motivation in discussing historical records about him. 

Infection 2:  Corinsael’s bane erases him from written and oral histories. His actions and their consequences are either ascribed to someone else, left as unexplained historical mysteries, or omitted altogether. This also includes transcripts of anything he says.

Infection 3: Corinsael’s bane erases him from any written description or recounting of him in the past. When people talk about it, they tend to stumble on him — can’t remember his name, mix him up with someone else, lose their train of thought. (This includes people who are currently having those conversations with Corinsael, which complicates dating). This now creeps up further in time, leaving only the last week or two safe.

Infection 4: It’s starting to become unclear whether Corinsael is just being erased from historical records, or being erased from history itself. This is more ambiguous than his erasure from the record — there’s never anything conclusive, but enough to call his entire past into question.

Infection 5: There are moments in Corinsael’s past in which he no longer exists. He vanishes from them in a wracking fits and spasms, as if suffering from consumption and spitting up droplets of his history. It’s hard to predict how exactly this will impact the present — each change to the past plays by its own rules, like episodes of Doctor Who. The only consistency is that they make Corinsael’s life hell.

Infection 6: Corinsael’s erasure from history is no longer spasmodic; he’s constantly bleeding away the moments of his life, slowly but steadily. The erasure also creeps up into his more recent history, hitting things that happened just yesterday. If he does not return to the void, there’ll eventually be nothing left of his past, and his present will crumble into nothing.

Infection 7: Corinsael’s bane now erases him from things that happened an hour ago, a few minutes. The moment he put on his seatbelt. The moment he looked both ways before crossing traffic. The moment his heart last beat. There’s practically nothing that he can do at all without his bane erasing a crucial moment, including surviving the day.

[thewalrusespublicist]

hello！It seems rare to see your opinion on Paul's songs. I would like to know your thoughts on "However Absurd," a song that constantly lingers in my mind, both for its lyrics and the way Paul sings it. Honestly, whenever I find myself doubting whether they had sexual relationships, I always revert to the moment when Paul clearly mentioned John and their relationship while explaining those lyrics：Something special between us,When we made love the game was over.I couldn't say the words,so I keep talking to you.

Hi anon!

I've never thought about it before but you're right I don't talk about his songs much, even though I love them and have a lot of opinions (shocker lol). To be honest, a big reason is I just haven't been asked!

Saying that, of all the ones to ask about...

However Absurd is like the one ring from LOTR to me. I keep that thing hidden in a drawer in the back of my mind despite its always there lurking: an enigma, a puzzle, an unresolvable question. I take it out sometimes to stare at it and it stares back at me, mocking me with its bloody egg dish. It knows that my take on their dynamic is 'queerplatonic but blurry' and it knows that it raises so many questions that make me doubt everything. It does not care, it delights in toying with me.

But as with all questions from my lovely anons, I'll try my best to give some form of coherent thought! The one good thing about the Pound is Sinking's eviler twin is that Paul did give us something to go off:

“‘Absurd’ was another thing you start off and think ‘Ooh no, that’s too Beatley, so I won’t do it.’ So I resisted it for a little while, but… it was a good system then, why ignore it now?.. .There’s a sort of ‘Walrus’ intro to this track… It’s a style I know and love. The lyrics on this one are a bit bizarre, but then again they make a kind of sense… In the middle it explains itself a bit… ‘Something special between us… Words wouldn’t get my feelings through’. That’s taking off into The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran – there’s a line of his that always used to attract me and John, which was ‘Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it just to reach you.’”

Paul McCartney, 1986

So, just from the quote alone, we have the following information:

The lyrics are meant to make sense, even if done in a surrealist style

The middle section is the key to everything

The feelings and emotion connect to the phrase that both he and John enjoyed. This phrase is about trying to reach someone even if you can't express yourself properly

The music and theming is nostalgic to late 60s Beatles

Looking at the lyrics with these points in mind, I'm pretty certain one can decipher a basic outline or meaning to the song, however the following is just my interpretation:

However Absurd - Analysis

Ears twitch, like a dog, Breaking eggs in a dish. Do not mock me when I say This is not a lie.

From the off, we are introduced to the themes of unclear communication and vulnerability. If you've seen a dog at dinnertime, they perk up at any suggestion of food. The scrape and crack of eggs against a dish is a sharp sound that a dog's hearing would pick up on. Whatever's being said is enough to grab the attention of the person, but they, like the dog, cannot fully comprehend the meaning. Does the sound mean something for them? Is it for their owner? All they know is the sound is there.

Then the core vulnerability of the song, the fear that the person they are trying to open up to won't take it seriously. This indicates that the person might not accept that the singers feelings are possible or true. The denial suggests either the subject's dim view of the singers emotional depth towards them, or that the singers feelings are out of the ordinary/unexpected.

It's funny thing, half serious, With our hands on our ears. Living dreams with mouths ajar, Wide awake, we go to sleep.

Again, the joke that isn't a joke, the thing that the singer can't outright say.

Now we move to the seemingly current state of play. Our hands on our ears' is reminiscent of the 'speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil' monkeys. Is this a western or eastern interpretation of the monkeys? Is the singer and the subject (or general society?) refusing to let negative thoughts in, or refusing to hear the truth? Then the 'living dreams' vs 'wide awake' going to sleep dichotomy. There is something absurd and dreamlike about the life both lead that leaves them a little slack-jawed, overwhelmed perhaps by the insanity of their lives. If we were to put Paul into the narrative for a moment, the wide-awake dreaming would makes sense for someone whose dreams are so vivid and waking life so strange, perhaps there's a sense of escapism there. If the first stanza introduces us to the situation of uncertain communication, the second stanza gives us the context of a strange dreamlike existence wherein the singer and the subject avoid the uncomfortable truth, whatever that truth may be.

However absurd, however absurd It may seem. However absurd, however absurd It may seem.

Something special between us, When we made love the game was over. I couldn't say the words, Words wouldn't get my feelings through, So I keep talking to you

This section is supposedly the key and it's quite a bombshell key. This section reveals that the song is nonsensical to reflect that the singer cannot express themselves properly. They keep trying but what they feel is beyond words, or at least, beyond what the singer is able to express in words because crucially, they 'couldn't say them'. Another key point is that this is the only section where the past tense is used. In this framing, the making love was the inciting incident that lead to the current stalemate. What's intriguing to me is if you were to take this in any way autobiographical is that in other songs like Let Me Roll It and in interviews/general anecdotes, Paul expresses that he uses sex as a cover for real emotions and it's his easiest and potentially meaningless (?) form of expressing affection. Paul is very much a sex-first ask and talk about anything later (or never). So why would the game be up if he had sex with someone? It's Paul, he flirts with literally every woman that moves. Why would it even have taken a while to have sex or it be a crossing the threshold moment if its his first port-of-call? These are questions that I will come back to at the end.

However absurd, however absurd It may seem. However absurd, however absurd It may seem.

Custom made dinosaurs, Too late now, for a change. Everything is under the sun, But nothing is for keeps

'Custom made dinosaurs' is an unusual phrase, who are the dinosaurs and who made them? Did they turn themselves into has-been dinosaurs through their own personal issues or are the dinosaurs the people around them? That dinosaurs are perhaps best known for being extinct lends yet another meaning to 'nothing is for keeps'; it's too late to change things between them either because the dinosaurs are too set in their ways ... or because they're dead. The singer and the subject could have had it all, everything under the sun, but they couldn't keep it, either because what they had or the other person is no longer here.

However absurd, however absurd It may seem. However absurd, however absurd It may seem.

The final refrain. Normally the chorus connects a song together but here its doing double duty by reinforcing the central meaning of the song. The singer will keep talking to the subject; no matter how nonsensical, no matter how meaningless, they will never stop trying to reach them.

Overview of the song

So in a rough translation of the song: The singer keeps trying to reach someone, to tell them something that the singer feels too afraid to speak of and that the subject might not believe to be true. Whatever the truth is is either preposterous to the subject or is framed in a funny/light-hearted way that gives the singer an 'out' emotionally. The pair lived/live in a half dream-like reality which renders them unable to communicate their feelings or allows them to avoid them. Whatever the situation, this fragile peace/ignorance was ruined when the pair consummated their relationship and things were never the same, exacerbated by the continued difficulty of the singer to convey their feeling. The last two stanzas are a sad contradiction. They had the potential to have everything and they squandered it and it's now too late to go back or change anything BUT the singer will keep trying, no matter how absurd the attempt is.

So, what the hell to make of it?

Well, I mean...well. Like I mean ... it's the timing of the mid 1980s, it's the similar theming to another song confirmed to be at least partially about John ('This One') as well as the sentiments expressed about John in several interviews/'Broad Street', the nostalgic reminisces to the late 60s and most of the presentation of the relationship and living in a dream-like world. I mean come ON. And yh, if this song was taken to be entirely autobiographical and entirely about John then yes, the middle section is explosive. There's no two ways about it. Hidden in the last track of one of Paul's albums is the revelation he and John had a romantic relationship and that they slept together.

But there are a few problems with this viewpoint that make me hesitate. The first is the fundamental issue of taking songs as a 1-1 autobiographical account of events as that's just not how songwriting works, especially not how Paul's writing works. Songwriting is often autobiographical but not necessarily in an 'this is x from my real life, I love x. Here's a song entirely about x. Yay for x'. A lot of songs are like that true, but in many cases it's more a 'this is x from my real life that has inspired feelings. I'm writing a song about those feelings and inserting them into a song about a fantasy relationship with y. As it's a fantasy I can also pull feelings from my other real life relationships with Z and Q. Therefore the song is inspired by X but contains elements not applicable to X as the relationship has been fictionalised.' A perfect example is 'Don't go jumping into waterfalls' which started out as feelings of protectiveness Paul had towards his children but then morphed into a romantic song. Even if he was heavily inspired by John and their late Beatles work, it doesen't rule out the relationship depicted in the song being made-up or based on other relationships throw in as well.

Adding on to this is Paul's own words in interviews and general response. This is probably better in another post but, hell its my blog and I'm just going to say it: to my mind there has been nothing Paul has ever said that has indicated that his relationship with John ever got to having sex. Have some of his interviews, comments and song lyrics about John come across as blurring the boundary between platonic and romantic? Yeah, especially the 'if I was a girl' and 'confessing all our past affairs' and 'last mistake' malarkey. But most of these come across as Paul grappling with something he himself does not quite understand/has yet to come to terms with. Paul has also been quite emphatic about his love for John being brotherly and there have been no rumours of Paul being bisexual outside of his relationship with John. Am I willing and open to believe Paul is perhaps concealing something? Yes in theory, but I would need a lot more evidence than what has currently been laid out.

It's this contradiction that has me in such a bind about However Absurd. For my reading of the current evidence to work, I have to believe that the song was only partially inspired by John or by something else we don't know about (which itself is plausible, we read into songs what we know, especially if we don't have the full picture). In addition, I also have to believe that the weirdness of sex as a 'no turning back' moment despite that not being how Paul works at all in his relationship with women is due to it being a made up circumstance. In that reading, I have to ignore how confessional and weirdly specific it all seems and the sense that the emotions and circumstances are being concealed. Then there's the feeling that whoever the middle section of the Pound is Sinking is about is also the subject of this song. That's nothing but my gut talking but this feels like a continuation of that song and if that is the case, then there was a real life muse for both.

On the other hand, if I just throw caution to the wind and say 'yep, this is a confession' I have to chuck out most of what Paul has said in both public and what we know he said privately over the past 50 or so years. Am I willing to do that for a line in an highly ambiguous, potentially at least partially fictional song? No, that would be poor reasoning. But that doesen't mean everything sits right with me.

I'm really sorry anon I usually can come up with better than this but this song is like a kill-switch for my brain. There just isn't enough information and context available for me to come up with a better take on However Absurd. Weirdly, I think that was the point, I'm not sure we as listeners were ever meant to. There are some things that Paul wants to keep under wraps, and I personally believe However Absurd might be one of them.

[itsdeniini]

𖹭 SUNOO'S FUTURE PATHS IN CAREER 𖹭

(₊˚ʚ🪼₊˚✧ ) note ᰔᩚ ⊹ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ𓆜ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂㅤ🪩 𓇼

i am a self-taught tarot reader, and the interpretations i provide are personal. if anyone would like to share their own insights, i would be more than happy to hear them! please be kind <3

career atm!↪

《ten of wands, eight of swords, the devil》

:c Ah, how do I start? Well, you deserve much better, Sunoo. MUCH BETTER. At the moment, he feels extremely drained, like he's so exhausted by everything that's happening at the moment. it's too much to handle, and the pressure on him is going overdrive. But... he's standing on both feet strong to not disappoint engene. There are a lot of tears, late-night talking, and thoughts like, "Am I doing everything right? I suppose I'm doing a good job and I should push it more; it's still not enough, and I still have a lot of things to bring to the table, but... I feel like losing my ground, and there is a lot of competition surrounding me. How can I maintain myself in a good mood and do my best at the same time when it's so tough and I'm almost worn out? Hm, I should be patient and keep working hard." I've been going through the oracles and they're literally saying that he's been feeling lost and excessively restricted in his career. There is a lot of self-doubt that is plaguing him. deep inside, he wishes he would have the chance to take some control over his own career, but he understands that now that's something surreal, and he has to keep agreeing to the terms of his hard obtained contract and follow the rules that were set for him. And those are impediments that are literally suffocating him and his artistic soul, making him feel like he's not moving further and standing in the same place for too damn long. that's not something that has been happening for just a few months; no, it's been almost 4 years, and there are still a lot of fears to overcome and challenges to face. His inner child may be happy that his mature self managed to pursue his dream career, but at what cost? 

However, he feels a bit more at ease lately as he's getting some opportunities to showcase himself. It's not like he's feeling satisfied with the bare minimum though; that's not even something he's associating himself with because Sunoo is aware he's got the talent, the visuals, and the overall presence that can carry him through his whole life. He knows it's not just a natural gift that was given to him; it's constant hard work he's been putting in for a long time now, and he wants the seeds he planted as a young man to blossom until the time he reaches his peak. That's why now he's trying to snatch every opportunity in his way (in fact, there were a lot of them in the past, but they were all fumbled because of be-) .. ANYWAYS 😌 Sunoo is really thriving at the moment with those little lucky chances he's getting; he knows that's his time to shine, and he wouldn't want to stop any soon.

future career paths! ↪

《the magician, the star, the ace of pentacles》

GRANDIOSE PLANS!

Sunoo will get involved in a lot of activities in the future, BUT there is something... 🐟 .. yeah, something FISHY will be going on. I think there will be a big crew that will manage Sunoo's career, and some of these crew members may not exactly be his perfect co-workers. There will be people who may want to screw him by creating behind-the-scenes rumors or even a whole scandal that revolves around him. It feels like echoes from the past will also reappear and will make themselves known. It will be an unexpected blow to his career. Everything will fall on him at once, and this will be one of the most difficult periods of his life. From here, the energy breaks off, and it’s a little unclear to me what he’s going to do next, since the picture seems to be that this is a fatal knockout that cannot be avoided, but knowing Sunoo, I think he won’t give up without a fight. Still, some outcome is foreseen. This story will have an ending.

But let's talk about the good stuff now!

He is a entertainer. He knows how to 🌟ENTERTAIN🌟 the public!

First of all, he is an incredible fit for the variety shows (and that's not a secret to anyone), so... I think he's most probably thinking of one of his own. It may be a podcast or daily talk show where he would be able to express himself and maybe even talk about his own activities, like something casual, his daily routine, for example, but mainly about photo shoots, his involvement in the media, and most importantly, about his ACTING! Yeah, actor Sunoo is coming, and that career branch of his can even potentially overtake the singing one. Like, we'll be GAGGED when he gets that male lead role (he'll be starting with something BIG; this opportunity will be one of a kind and thus will give him a boost that many newbie actors would wish to have). He will be all over the place, and his singing capabilities will also be used rightfully (he will probably sing an OST?) to attract the audience and gain more attention to his new beginnings in this field. And of course, a lot of individuals will not be happy with that situation because, as I said, some echoes from the past will be sure that this success is thanks to them, and they're the ones who made him famous. This battle for justice will last for some time, and the outcome will become clearer with time. Some things may indicate that the initial stages of this conflict are already behind the scenes at the moment, and when it all becomes public, there will be THAT period when everything will collapse at once.

In addition to the things that I mentioned earlier, there is also the possibility of him starting his own brand, which will initially generate passive income, but then grow into something with a fairly larger impact.

Sunoo may start as a muse for a brand (🧴🌬️) and take this as experience for creating his own thing later. He wants to participate in the making process of his product and then translate this on his platform so he can show everything, from how the idea appeared to how you use it.

Something cute and practical like this, hm?

That was it, I wish Sunoo all the best, I know he'll make it through and we'll be so proud of him! >.<

[moonlightgrisha]

Make a choice

Ch. 7 You feel like you don't belong anywhere, but the Darkling makes you a proposal which helps you make up your mind . [Masterlist] Previous - Next

You need to make a choice.

The tsaritsa called for a private meeting this morning, which you didn't expect at all, not so soon anyway. You left your chambers in the Little Palace to be escorted to the royal quarters. You had left the Grand Palace only a few days earlier, but it already felt so unfamiliar. It used to be your home, but you have no home, now.

The tsaritsa welcomed you like you just came back from a nice visit to Novyi Zem, and asked her servants for tea and biscuits. Then she managed to compliment you for the dress you chose in the morning. You thanked her, but kept feeling slightly suspicious, waiting for the storm to come. And just as you were taking your first sip of tea, she added: "I see you are not wearing a kefta".

"No, I'm not, moya tsaritsa".

"May I ask why?"

You wished you told her it was none of her business. But somehow you managed to take a small sip of tea and then answer, perfectly calm: "My position at the Little Palace is currently... unclear".

She raised an eyebrow. "How odd. General Kirigan seemed already fond of you. But I guessed not everything is how it seems, as you proved us to be, dear".

There it was, the first blow. You smiled and gulped down your tea, hot as your shame.

Your royal cousin stood silent for a little while, before casually saying: "Maybe we could pretend nothing happened".

"Excuse me?"

She leaned over to you, whispering. "I could arrange for you to leave. Disappear. Wouldn't you like that? Living your life, far away. No more talking of summoning, sorcery or whatever all this matter is about".

"This matter is..." you were hurt, somewhere deep inside, because you had realized that you were no more than dust to be swept under the carpet. "I am Grisha, cousin".

"And royal". She remarked. "There are no Grisha in the royal family".

"I am the first".

"Are you?"

She left you wondering, and doubts and questions fell hard on you, like winter rain. How many more Grisha were born in the royal family, and how many disappeared?

And precisely, how did they disappear?

"I'll think of your generous offer", you smiled, hiding your fear and your rage behind the prettiest of smiles.

But now, you storm through the Little Palace. You are done, being a prisoner or waiting for whatever destiny has in store for you. You don't know if you are supposed to be wondering around, and any Grisha on your path would surely wonder what is this polished girl in otkasat'sya clothes doing around their home, but you don't care anymore at this point.

You need to make a choice. And you need to think.

So you run down the stairs, sneak in the stable and reach for your horse, which you missed terribly. While you proceed to saddle him, you think of some witty explanation for anyone who could surprise you right there.

And just as you're tightening the straps under the saddle, you see the Darkling entering the stable.

You stay completely still, while he pats his horse on the head, taking the reins in his hand. You are considering sneaking out unnoticed, when he turns and sees you.

There is a moment of silence. Then he says: "I'm glad to see you out of your chambers".

"That's it?" you snap. "All you have to say?"

"Is there something else you wished I said?"

Not really, but you are still waiting to figure him out, to figure all of this out. You simply shake your head, and turn to leave.

His voice reaches you at your back. "Please, don't leave".

He sounds earnest, just slightly exasperated. You stop.

"I was just about to head out", he continues. "I know how you like riding".

He can't see you over there, but he can feel the smile in your voice. "We already know who's going to win the chase".

"No chasing this time. We ride together".

Maybe it's the way he says it. Maybe it's the words. Eventually, you take you horse and follow outside.

You've been quite unfair to him. He is an exceptional rider. He's also the only person you know in the Little Palace, except for Genya, and even know you don't trust him yet, it feels good not being alone with your thoughts.

You ride side to side, and only sometimes you talk, but not about moon and darkness, destiny or summoning. You talk about the path you are riding, the blurred horizon and the skeleton trees not ready for spring yet.

You don't ask him once where he's taking you. You like to pretend he's taking you far away, further than what the tsaritsa promised you. A place where you can glow with moonlight without fearing to be thrown on the battlefield.

Then you remind yourself that he's the one who's probably going to throw you on the battlefield, and your heart cracks a little.

You stop by a fountain, to let the horse drink plenty. You notice the carvings on the side: skulls, soldiers and sorcery.

"How charming", you mumble, recognising the Black Heretic's tale in the pictures. "To remind me of my duties".

"And what exactly are your duties?" he asks, and that irritates you more than you care to show.

"You perfectly know that". You gesture to the fountain. "Once upon a time darkness fell on the land. Since then, people have been waiting for someone to get rid of their nightmare. It never occurred them that the chosen one might have her own nightmares".

You are no longer looking at him, but you can feel him frowning. "What do you mean?"

You hesitate, but then you tell him. "I've been dreaming about it for years. Shadows. Monsters. Blood".

He stares at you, and doesn't talk. For a moment he seems terrified. Then he smiles.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I took you here because this is one of my favorite spots, and for no other reason whatsoever?"

"No."

He laughs. It's the first time you hear him laughing. You let a smile escape your lips. His eyes are still laughing when he asks: "I expected you to run away on the first day at the Little Palace. Why did you stay?"

The question leaves you speechless. He's right. Why haven't you? "I guess..." you try to collect your thought. Finally, you find them. "I am tired of hiding".

He nods. You are sitting by the fountain, at this point, and he sits next to you, but not too close.

"I would like you to join me on an expedition", he says.

You flinch. "Where? Why?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow for the Fjerdan border. I would like you to come".

"So you are taking me to the batterfield".

"To the border", he remarks. "See with your eyes what the stakes are. What we are fighting for".

You don't answer, so he stands up and goes to kneel in front of you, just like he did on that first night in the Little Palace. The memory makes you blush, but he speaks before you can stand up and leave.

"We fight so that no Grisha will hide anymore", he says, looking at you in the eye. "No one. Ever".

"And there is a price to pay", you whisper.

"Everything has a price". His voice is heavy and regretful, and you almost feel his pain in his words.

You stand up. You feel like a queen with a postulant knight at your feet, and you'd like to think that you have the upper hand, but you also know it's much more complicated than this.

You are the one to give him your hand to help him up, this time. He accepts it with a cunning smile, and even if your skin fizzles as you touch him, you control your power, so that you only glow a little.

"Fine", you say. "I'll come".

At least, today you have made a choice.

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