#right lighting and scenes its all like a fever dream
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could hurt my brain and read both sha po lang and can ci pin at once and see which sucks me in faster
the downside being it may keep me from being able to focus into either ;-;
on an unrelated note, STILL feels like a fucking fever dream you can now look up video edits of Silent Reading with it’s SHOW’S actors and scenes like actual SCENES from the book. in my dream world eventually we’d get that for Can Ci Pin but i know the state of things and even if (b)romance cdramas had a Huge Green Flag, sci fi dramas just do Not get picked up often
also on a mildly related note, sha po lang’s drama is DONE, filmed, approved, rumors ran that it’d air in march. where is it ;-; tan jianci. will it ever be public. will an audience ever get to se it. ;-; tan jianci... please...
#rant#sha po lang#can ci pin#silent reading#look 1. silent reading was my FAVE and i looked up edits lmao and so seeing ACTUAL in character acting with the#right lighting and scenes its all like a fever dream#2. i suspect im going to like Can Ci Pin more. if im honest. im sure spl is great but on PAPER at least comparing summaries? can ci pin is#more My Thing. so part of me wants to read spl first cause im more likely to finish a novel if i know theres MORE im looking forward to late#later. on the other hand though can ci pin was written AFTER silent reading so better chance its written even BETTER than silent reading#and THAT hope it letting me finish silent reading even though it means it'll end#so like. part of me just wants to go right to can ci pin#also? priest could surprise me. who knows. maybe i'll like spl better. maybe ill like The Great Blue Seal better than either
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Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - THE CROMER
Masterlist
First Appearance: Diary Film
Hongjoong is asleep on the couch when his alternate self from the Black Pirates appears to him in a dream and hands it over
Hongjoong awakens and the Cromer rests on the coffee table in front of him, indicating the Black Pirate was not just in his dream but physically switched from the Z- to the A-World
Known Versions
Z-World: Destroyed by Yeosang in Deja Vu/Fever Part 3 Diary Entries
A-World: Currently in use by Ateez/Black Pirates after being taken to Z-World following Yeosang's destruction of the original Z-World Cromer
Presumed: Unknown World/Halazia World: giant shattered Cromer Yunho was sitting in (could've originated from yet another reality) plus the unknown shattered Cromer seen at the end of Crazy Form
Unknown Location: The 4 Witnesses in Halazia also utilized a Cromer to leave the Halazia World
CROMER ABILITIES:
The origin of the Cromer's powers are unclear. However, Sciensalvar has a theory in both the A- and Z-World:
A-World: it's a Mayan Relic with inherent power
Z-World: it contains some form of Quantum Energy (whatever that means - quantum just means extremely small, like quark-sized small)
Important side-note: the Cromer's abilities are influenced by the phases of the moon which also dictate its size. This is first mentioned in the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries
Time Travel - UNKNOWN
Visual Indicator:
The sand inside the Cromer flows from bottom to top.
Documented Instances of time travel:
Ateez when they first travel to Z-World: Forward in time
Ateez when they returned to the A-World: Back in time
The first time is made less clear but took place right after Z-World's Hongjoong handed over the Cromer to his alternate self.
Proof of this is, for one, the gravity-defying sand in the Cromer which can be seen in the Fever Part 1 Diary Entries, but also a scene from the Fever Part 2 Diary Entries in which the Grimes siblings know the Black Pirates were captured by the time they first meet Ateez right after their arrival in the Z-World.
At that point, enough time must've passed for the news to reach the siblings. This implies Ateez traveled forward in time when they moved to the Z-World since the Black Pirates were captured right after the Cromer was handed over and A-World's Ateez came here right after receiving it.
The second instance took place when Yeosang shattered the Cromer to save his members while he was being captured by the Android Guardians at the end of the Fever Part 3 Diary Entries and leading into the Fever Epilogue Entries.
They assumed it was because the Cromer was destroyed but that has yet to be confirmed. However, if true, we may find out soon since Crazy Form ended on yet another shattered Cromer.
If confirmed, the reason it wasn't necessary the first time may be because we were dealing with two alternate versions of Hongjoong interacting with each other in the dreamscape. Weird stuff has happened between them before like when they interacted through the glass prison cell wall and the Black Pirates outfits appeared on A-World's Ateez so this wouldn't be unreasonable.
Jumping Between Realities - FULL MOON
First of all, I'd like to clarify that early diary entries referred to the alternate universes as different "dimensions". However, that term is normally used to talk about the three spacial and one time dimension our real universe is made up of (given our current understanding of it) which is why I call them "worlds" or "realities" like newer Ateez content does.
Documented Instances of travel between realities:
Black Pirate Hongjoong: Z to A to Z in Diary Film
Ateez: A to Z in Diary Film
Ateez minus Yeosang: Z to A in Deja Vu
Ateez: A to Z in Fever Epilogue Diary Entries
The 4 Witnesses in Halazia: Halazia World to Unknown
Presumed: Halazia's Ateez: Halazia World to A, then A to Z
Visual Indicators and Required Circumstances:
In Diary Film, the Cromer later lights up which we've also seen at the end of Deja Vu
This seems to be an early warning sign of what's to come: a gravitation anomaly
Random objects begin to float like we're used to seeing in zero gravity environments while other objects and Hongjoong remain firmly on the ground
This is something we get to witness again during Halazia (yet another alternate reality) in which Yunho was sitting in the giant Cromer (the moon must've been extremely close or something else must've gone really wrong to blow it up to these proportions)
Aside from Ateez, the four witnesses to the events in Halazia also used a Cromer to leave the Halazia World which was indicated with a roll of thunder and a bright white flash of light as if frequently described the Diary Entries
Additionally, Crazy Form ended with a shattered glowing Cromer on the ground, followed by a bluebird flying away (a symbol heavily featured in Halazia)
I can thus only conclude that the glow, rising sand and gravitational anomaly are all indicators of a reality jump
While we don't get to see the moon in Diary Film, we do get a clear and intentional shot of it in Crazy Form which lets us know this power can be accessed during the full moon
We see another presumed instance of Reality-Jumping in Matz when we see Halazia's Hongjoong and Seonghwa (presumably) take down Sciensalvar in the A-World
HOWEVER, going by the size of the Cromer Yeosang shattered in Fever Part 3, it was not the full moon then which leads me to believe that, if you wish to access a power that is not accessible during the current moon phase, you need to fully destroy it which will free all the energy inside and enable you to use that power
Traveling Into Dreams - CRESCENT MOON
Unlike the former power, this one is less flashy but we do get to see it used just as frequently as it allows for more fun, out there music video concepts.
Documented Instances of Dream Travel:
Black Pirate Hongjoong: Hongjoong's Dream in Diary Film
Potential: Ateez: a shared dream in Eternal Sunshine
Ateez: a shared dream in Illusion
Black Pirate: Ateez's shared dream in Illusion
Ateez: a shared dream in Wave
Black Pirates: a shared dream with all Strictland residents in Crazy Form
Visual Indicators and Required Circumstances:
Diary Film: Hongjoong is asleep while he sees his alternate self who is gone when he wakes
Eternal Sunshine: Unnatural colors, laws of nature and physics do not apply
Illusion: Everyone is asleep at the beginning of the MV, the environment is all pastels, backgrounds are often cartoonish and nonsensical
Notably, the crescent moon is shown on multiple occasions which links dream-traveling with this moon phase for the first time
Wave: Once again, the MV begins with everyone waking up which makes 'Illusion' a dream within a dream
In addition, we also have this album's aptly named track "Crescent" with the repeated line of "Open your eyes" so we can now safely connect the power to the crescent moon
Crazy Form: We open on a crescent moon shot, Black Pirate Hongjoong fires his finger gun and real bullets appear, the video has frequently glitches, cartoon panels pop up, etc.
Additionally, we also get the album track "Crescent Part 2"
Teleportation - UNCLEAR
Given the frequent use of this ability, I currently believe it to be non-moon phase dependant, meaning it can be accessed at all times.
Documented Instances of Teleportation:
Fever Part 2 Diary Entries
Direct quote from Seonghwa's entry:
The Central Government put the men in Black Fedora on the wanted list, but they repeatedly failed to arrest them due to them being able to teleport using the Cromer.
Guerrilla
At the beginning of the MV, Hongjoong teleports away from the rooftop
The jump is indicated by the screen flashing red and a whooshing sound effect
Movement Diary Version: The Revolution
At the beginning of the revolution, when the Black Pirates and Ateez are performing in the streets and handing out flyers, Android Guardians try to catch them
To avoid capture, they begin to teleport short distances among the chaos, allowing them to complete the mission and return safely to their hideout
Outlaw - The World Ep. 2 Diary Entries
Yunho uses teleportation to safe the boy's brother from falling to his death and (presumably) to safe Wooyoung from getting snatched up by a Guardian
Both Ateez and the Black Pirates also uses teleportation as a part of their performance for the Prestige Academy students
Will - The World Ep. Fin Diary Entries
Half of Ateez use the Cromer to teleport prisoners out of the Disposal Site before also using it to teleport back to rejoin the rest
Mingi uses it to safe the boy from falling into the incinerator and dying like his brother
He also uses it to dispose of the remaining Android Guardians at the Disposal Site
San teleports them away from the Disposal Site before it could bury them as it exploded
Matz
Hongjonong and Seonghwa seem to teleport at 1:54
A negative frame is seemingly used to indicate this
IT's You
Wooyoung, Yeosang, and San teleport at the conclusion of the MV
A negative frame flashes before black grain blurs into their frame and makes it seem like they're dissipating
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This Life and the Next: A Nessian Playlist
It's finally @nessianweek! And of course for Day 3 I had to make a playlist!
We love their banter, their angst, their passion, and their deep undying love for one another. To watch Cassian and Nesta find each other despite their own personal challenges was such a beautiful and satisfying love story. For this playlist, I tried to follow a somewhat narrative structure that fell in line with ACOSF. I wanted to represent these two people finding one another and lifting the other up. This playlist also has a fun little bonus track for your fun Nessian writing needs. LISTEN HERE and take a look at some lyrics behind the cut.
As The World Caves In-Matt Maltese
My feet are aching And your back is pretty tired And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe And set our grief aside And here it is, our final night alive And as the earth burns to the ground Oh, girl, it's you that I lie with As the atom bomb locks in Oh, it's you I watch TV with As the world, as the world caves in
Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene-Hozier
Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet
Lose My Cool-Amber Marks
I was so full of pain just stuck in my head There was no one that could get me out of it Yes I think the drinking was a bit excessive Just to be frank the drinking ain't what caused me to be aggressive My heart has been taken over Everyday I get colder to 'em I realize need to let go expression from the get go to 'em Feeling it like I just need to speak my brain
Banquet-Bloc Party
And if you feel A little left behind We will wait for you on the other side 'Cause I'm on fire 'Cause you know I'm on fire when you come
Homage-Mild High Club
Please just have a laugh with me 'Cause you know I'm borrowing by now These sounds, have already crowned Come on it's a silly dream Dreaming of the imagery unfound The view sits nice from that cloud
Make You Better-The Decemberists
I'll love you in springtime I lost you when summer came And when you pulled backwards I wanted to, I needed to Oh-oh, to make me better
Andromeda- Weyes Blood
Treat me right I'm still a good man's daughter Let me in if I break And be quiet if I shatter Gettin' tired of looking You know that I hate the game Don't wanna waste any more time You know I been holdin' out Love is calling It's time to give to you
Skulls-Bastille
I don't want to rest in peace I'd rather be the ghost that annoys you I hope you can make me laugh Six feet down when we're bored of each other A match is our only light
When our lives are over and all that remains Are our skulls and bones, let's take it to the grave And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms I'll be buried here with you And I'll hold in these hands, all that remains
Leather-Tori Amos
Look, I'm standing naked before you Don't you want more than my sex? I can scream as loud as your last one But I can't claim innocence Oh God, could it be the weather? Oh God, why am I here? If love isn't forever And it's not the weather Hand me my leather
waves-Miguel & Kacey Musgraves
Put it out, I'm on fire, fire That’s what I’m about, take me higher, higher, tonight I'm gonna ride that wave
the last beautiful thing I saw..-Paris Paloma
And I looked up, and saw the sun It separated all the colors And the ice, into my eyes It fell and left me blind That was the last thing that I saw The fractured glass and its downpour I felt the blood mix with the water And I didn't see no more
Rut-The Killers
So I'm handing you a memory I hope you understand That steadily reminds you of who I really am
This city's always breathing, I wish that it would die The kickbacks and the bachelors, the fever for the velvet rope The money from my mother's men I'm not like her, you're not like them
Tell Me You Love Me-Sufjan Stevens
My love, I've lost my faith in everything Tell me you love me anyway, tell me you love me anyway My love, I feel myself unravelling Tell me you love me anyway, tell me you love me anyway My love, I feel the darkness on my back
Eternal Flame-Saint Sister
I believe it's meant to be, darling I watch you when you are sleeping You belong with me Do you feel the same? Or am I only dreaming? Is this burning an eternal flame?
Milk & Black Spiders-Foals
Oh, I hope you can hear me All those million miles away, you'd stay 'Cause I'd love you dearly All those billion miles away 'Cause I've been around two times And found that you're the only thing I need
BONUS TRACK: Smut-Tom Lehrer
Give me smut And nothing but! A dirty novel I can't shut If it's uncut And unsubt-tle
Taglist: @asnowfern @damedechance @foundress0fnothing @foreverinelysian @gaeleria @goddess-aelin @itsthedoodle @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-does-stuff @labellefleur-sauvage @moodymelanist @c-e-d-dreamer @nessianweek @octobers-veryown @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @spell-cleavers @sassyhobbits @separatist-apologist @secret-third-thing @thesistersarcheron @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @witchlingsandwyverns @xtaketwox @wilde-knight @witch-and-her-witcher @iftheshoef1tz @ofduskanddreams @talons-and-teeth
#nessian#nessianweek2023#acotar playlist project#acotar playlist#Spotify#cassian#Nesta#pro cassian#pro nesta#pro nessian
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Actually Ive been thinking I could ask YOU for movie recs recently which sounds wild but it was in reference to the horror genre and I assume you like that stuff. Doesn't have to be horror though, in fact I am 100% down for something lighthearted right now mentally/emotionally lol
Anyways. I was wondering if you have any that aren't super heavy on sexual innuendos or gore/violence because those make me uncomfortable. I think Shaun of the Dead is the most graphic thing I've seen to date and honestly I like that one. it didn't scare me really (makes sense considering it's a comedy, idk if i want to watch something that graphic if it's intended to be like. disturbing and sickening) and I'm considering rewatching it.
:3 (no pressure if you can't think of any)
Eeekkk!!! SPECIAL INTRESST SPECIAL INSREST!! :D
( light spoilers for the lighthouse and the shining)
A few horrors i can think of right now are:
Christine 1883 directed by John Carpenter
The Lighthouse 2019 - there is a slight sexual scene but it isn’t very graphic and doesn’t drag on too long. Also one short scene depicting a dead seagull. This is a very very strange movie tho so keep that in mind.
I wasn’t sure if i should put it in here but The shining 1980 - like the Lighthouse its main focus is isolation and the horror of Cabin fever.
But!!the shining has about 2 scenes where in 1 you can see two girls axe murdered laying on the floor, this only drags on for like 1 second but still. And another scene in wich a slightly decomposed body is shown ( no blood or organs or bones tho )
So again the shining doesn’t utilize gore or jump-scare as the main focus of horror . Once again like to add that the gore isn’t overly graphic. :)
——————————————-
Not onto non horror!!!
Electric Dreams 1984
A space odyssey 2001
The thirteenth Floor 1999
Metropolis 1927
And thats all i can think about as of right now!!! maybe something suits your taste!!!
Thank you so much for the ask and farewell!!!
Ps- i might add on to this is the future >:]
#thank you!!!#i hope you have a fantastic day dear anno#i could talk about the shining and the lighthouse like for ever#no seriously i have essays planned out#asks#eeewwkkk specal intrsesst!!!#horror movie rec
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PROMPT #27: Memory
"What is memory? Men forget that which pains them. …Create new memories to please themselves. …Lie to themselves, believe their own lies. The VKP may have wielded the brand that burned your soul, but you… you wanted them to do it." -Sydney Losstarot, Vagrant Story
He awoke from stasis to his daughter's screams echoing in his ears. Throughout all his meager dreams, she had cried out for him in her agony, as she had not had the chance to do at her own death-
"Breathe, Riot."
The voice, a woman's, maddening for its presence, filled his head with a lurid sense of wrongness. He struggled on instinct against it, but his body would not heed him, and so he obeyed the voice's instruction. The breath he drew in tasted chemical, cloying; even in his fevered desperation, some great and overwhelming shame remained.
"This is intake session 13 for Case 72-Alpha. Subject is lucid and vitals are strong."
He opened his eyes to a blinding light, and the speaker's thin, vague outline behind it: white Garlean hair, crossed legs, a writing pad on her lap. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, unimportant though it was.
"Ashley," the woman said. "Can you tell me what happened on the day of King Theodoric's suicide?"
He breathed again, this time a strangled gasp. "I…" His throat ached and itched with rawness; his limbs, still restrained, recalled the memory of running through Ala Mhigo's ruined streets, and yet- "I was… tasked with subduing a cell of undercover Garlean operatives-"
The woman tilted her head to one side. Within half an instant, pain flooded his body, sharp and electric.
"That's not right," the woman replied, with a gentleness bordering on pity. "You were with your wife and daughter. Your family."
The pain slowly faded, and a familiar scene filled his head before he could conjure it of his own will: that of a sunny day, almost as bright as the lamp he'd been made to stare into. Marco's tree, Tia passing him a bottle of wine, his daughter's laughter.
"You were a loyal husband, and a devoted father. No matter your role in the Dangerous Criminal Task Force, you would never have abandoned your family in favor of your duty to a mad despot."
Again his muscles ached, though not from abuse or overwork. He nodded.
"There's just one more thing I need to understand. And I need you to be the one to tell me." Only with that prompting did he remember the name of the woman speaking to him: Camilla. "Who is Blackram?"
He might have lunged for the woman, the nearest and only target for his hate, were it not for the Garlean fiber straps that restrained him. His mouth was full of the sharp tang of his own blood, and even that brought to mind the ruin of Ashelia's tiny stomach as she had been rendered like-
"Marco," he sobbed. "They killed Marco. It was... It's all my fault."
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My OC makes an appearance! It's very important to develop the love interest in these types of stories, so as I said, from this point on, it will no longer be a vague xreader type series.
Here is me keeping my promise of tagging you @lovra974! I hope you enjoy!
If you're new to the series, make sure to start here!
Bakugou Unearthing Baggage
Bakugou arrived outside her apartment in Saitama, ten minutes earlier than he said he would. He watched at the sidelines as she trained by herself.
There's a blank look in Tatsumori’s eyes as she pounded at the wooden stake with her metal fists. Splinters fly out with each blow, and the dent on the thick log gets deeper and wider until she reaches its center. Once she's around halfway through, a similar punch breaks through the thick log, snapping it in half. It falls with a loud thud, landing on the ground across from her.
Even after it snaps, her fists continue to punch forward at the air, with the same consistent, mechanical punches as if the wood was still in its place. Her silver eyes dulled into a lifeless gray. A blank expression took over as if she was possessed by something that wasn't her.
Just as Bakugou decides to step in, she stops, her fist suspended into the air. The life in her eyes returns, as though nothing happened, she picks up the hundred-pound log effortlessly atop her shoulder to set it aside a pile of similarly broken logs—all of them huge and broken in half.
Before Bakugou could process the sight he just saw, the firm hum of her voice breaks through his mind.
"Hey, Bakugou. Ready to train?" she spoke as if the scene he witnessed was just a fever dream. As she dusts the splinters off her hands, the light clanking of her metal fingers grates on his ears. She wipes the sweat off her brow with those same metal arms.
"...yeah," he replies with reluctance. Bakugou was beginning to believe that he stumbled over a scene he shouldn’t have. Despite the burning curiosity, turning the other cheek seemed like the least troublesome option.
And so, everything continued as it should have, following their normal format—a few warm-ups to start it off, then straight to sparring without their quirks. She guided Bakugou through his mistakes and counters as usual, and he did his best to keep up with her fast pace. Tatsumori was comfortable with the fight. She danced around the moves like clockwork, letting the years of training take over during the spar. Her mind relaxed to the calming rhythm of their shared movement.
Tatsumori was not aware that her mind was slowly drifting away. Bakugou knew something had changed when he became the recipient of more violent attacks.
“Old hair?” Bakugou called out to her with no response. As he backed away to disengage from the fight, she was in close pursuit, turning up the intensity and strength of her blows as if he were a rat escaping. Her metal arms were the only weapons she needed, as the stronger hits proved more fatal with the accompaniment of a hard surface.
Without his quirk, there was still no way Bakugou could beat her, and she was beginning to push him to a corner he wasn’t very familiar with.
Sensing that their sparring session had gone awry, Bakugou turned to more drastic measures to escape her onslaught. With his signature right hand, he swings and detonates the sweat in his palm. Without missing a beat, Tatsumori’s shell-like body raises a metal arm in defense. The plates surrounding the skeleton of her prosthetic dismantle, snaking around the limb to reform into a diamond-shaped shield. With a loud clang, Bakugou’s blow lands.
The dissipating smoke revealed the metal glowing slightly red. The impact dents the hot titanium, but seconds were all it took to repair this dent to its former shape. Bakugou doesn't get the chance to admire his handiwork, as a counter soon follows.
She swings, a blade extends past her forearm, and Bakugou narrowly misses its tip, the wind of her swift strike blows past his neck. He stiffens his body, lowering his hands in anticipation for a familiar blow to his abdomen, though it doesn't come.
That was it? His thoughts pause briefly.
He continues on to deliver bigger blows, with greater explosions. As he continues to fight, he encounters more instances of her mindless body disappointing his expectations. Each instance of weakness fuels the intensity of his attacks, as he lets the flares of anger and irritation explode outward. He roars as he delivers each blow carelessly, knowing his sloppy swings would lend itself to openings she could capitalize on.
And yet no harm came to him.
Bakugou became very familiar with her style of fighting. If she was truly present, that first strike would have landed, and he would have been on the receiving end of at least three more blows. Whenever he carelessly swung his right hand, she would always have something to say to him. Tatsumori always punished his carelessness very severely, and yet this version of her wasn’t aware of such a simple thing.
It was far from what Bakugou was familiar with, and it wasn't the strength that he admired in her. Because her mind wasn't present, her movements shifted from deliberate, calculated dances to stiff, mechanical reactions. He was fighting a robot stiffly trying to imitate what it thought was old hair's fighting capability. Whatever this is… it wasn’t her. This was weak, and he knew for sure that old hair wasn’t anywhere close to being weak.
For the first time in the fight, Bakugou met Tatsumori’s eyes. A cold, stiff face stared past him, as if he wasn’t there. A cloud once again dulled the silver luster of her orbs. He felt an unnamed, disturbing feeling bubble in his stomach. Much worse than irritation or anger, it was damning and uncomfortable.
"WAKE UP DAMMIIIIIT!!!” Bakugou roars again.
One large explosion and she falls backward. Before she can catch herself, Bakugou follows up, messily charging forward and letting his hands trail behind him to enhance his movement. He holds out his hands to pin down her metal arms against the concrete floor, all the while she struggles against his hold. The metal in her arms glows red in defiance, scalding Bakugou’s exposed palms. He flinches but keeps his hold steady, using his whole weight to heep her there.
“Tatsumori!” At the mention of her name, the clouds in her eyes slowly drift away. Her struggling stops and Bakugou releases his hold, fanning his hands out from the heat. Once the life in her eyes appears, a confused expression follows.
“Bakugou?” The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach dissipates once he hears the gentle hum of her voice. Bakugou stands up from his position on top of her, looking at his own hands with a grimace. He could have been angrier, but he was just so lost trying to figure out what brought all of this on.
"What the hell was that, old hair?!" In a daze, she looks around at the situation and panics–an expression Bakugou has yet to see adorn her face. Her brows raise as her eyes widen, revealing the entirety of her shining silver orbs.
Her eyes… that’s what it normally looks like. Bakugou took care to remember those eyes. His shoulders untense once it truly sets in that she’s back to normal.
She flinches at the loud sound, holding a hand up to her head as she sits up. When she takes her hand away, it reveals her closed eyes and furrowed brow. She takes a deep, frustrated breath and shakily exhales the air out.
"Are you hurt?" Concern was one of the first things to grace her lips after such a hellish encounter. Bakugou holds out his hand to help her up, but instead, ends up showing the redness and blisters appear on his palms. Instead of taking his hand, Tatsumori hurriedly stands by herself, taking his hand and inspecting it herself.
"God, I'm so sorry…" As she traces over the wounds, the coolness of her metal fingertips sooth the burns on his palm. The usual knots in Bakugou’s resting brow unfurl as he gazes at her worried expression. Her brows furrowed and wrinkles formed on her head.
As he continued to stare at the changes in her expression, he began to notice other things about her form that he hadn’t noticed before. Her eyes carried dark circles and her hair was oily and unkempt despite being tied up. Grime and sweat littered her tan skin. Small pieces of wood clung onto her cotton sweats. Though it was her day off, she was very far from being well-rested, and there was evidence that she had been training for a very long time prior to his arrival.
In his reverie, Bakugou didn't realize he was being pulled into her apartment. Tatsumori led him to her kitchen sink after clearing away unwashed dishes on the counter. The cool water ran and soothed the hot pangs of his palm as she gently guided his hands to the stream, leaving for the bathroom after some time.
While he was there, Bakugou took a good look around.
The apartment would have been normal, if there weren't piles and piles of titanium everywhere. The whole space was one big room, with no separation for the kitchen, dining and living room, so Bakugou could see everything by just turning his head slightly. Her shield from high school, bent inwards and unusable, was displayed, hung on the walls. Several sticks and weapons were also mounted—a short sword, despite being broken in its blade, had been hung. Several sticks leaned on the walls. There were metal picture frames hung everywhere. Some with two other, older people that looked to be her parents, and some with familiar faces from high school.
The place was messy. Evidence that a busy person lived in it. If the unwashed dishes weren't already a sign, all sorts of random objects were misplaced like she never had time to put them away herself.
Tatsumori came back with a small bag in her hands. Wordlessly, she takes his hands and applies a salve generously on the affected areas. As if she's done so a million times, she dresses the wound expertly with bandages.
"Luckily, I didn't turn up the heat too high while we were fighting. It looks like you only have first degree burns, so it will sting for a while, but you'll be better in a few days," she mutters to him softly. She was so close that he noticed the slight variations of a low rasp that sent sparks running up and down Bakugou’s spine. "We… should probably stop training for the day."
He didn’t like the sound of ending their time together so early. It’s not like he minded getting hurt. Bakugou’s eaten much worse wounds than that burn so he was ready to continue training right where they left off—but he sensed that Tatsumori wasn’t in any state to continue fighting, and if they weren’t training or sparring… then what would they do? He didn’t just want to leave.
"What happened to you?" Bakugou asked. If he was leaving, he at least needed to know the reason why this mess happened in the first place.
"Ah…" she shifted uncomfortably. Bakugou asked the question, but he also knew that he wouldn’t get the answer that he wanted so easily.
"Don’t worry about it. It's… nothing serious.”
Bakugou scoffs at the statement, remembering a moment in their training where her blade came dangerously close to his neck.
"Nothing serious? You almost cut my head off.” He didn’t mean much from the comment, but Tatsumori flinches at the perceived accusatory tone.
"I'm sorry. That usually doesn’t happen. I've just been… thinking about things recently." She turns away from him. Bakugou catches a glimpse at her downcast eyes and knitted brows.
He sighs, knowing that it wasn’t in his place to pry. Bakugou wasn’t usually one to care about things like this. He didn’t give a damn about what happened to anyone that wasn’t directly connected to him, or his dream of becoming the number one hero, and yet not knowing about her seriously unsettled him. It didn’t help that he could barely recognize himself anymore. He recognized that he was feeling and experiencing all sorts of foreign emotions—and he was caught up in trying to make heads or tails out of every situation he’s been in so far. Because he didn’t know what anything was, he can’t react the way he wanted to—like how just the other day, he let his body do what he wanted, and ended up looking like a damn fool.
Deciding to go against his curiosity, Bakugou lets the matter slide, guiding their conversation elsewhere.
"Whatever. Your place is a mess. When was the last time you cleaned it, old hair?" The said girl looks around and scratches her head in embarrassment.
"I didn't know you'd be coming. It's hard to clean because I'm usually busy with work…" she lets the excuses pile on, and her voice subtly raises as she speaks. Bakugou scoffs at this.
"Tch. You told me you had the day off today. You could have cleaned your apartment instead of training all day, idiot."
"Ah… yeah maybe that is something I should have done."
Bakugou was getting annoyed at how careless she was acting. Impatiently, he stands and starts picking up the litter around the house. Several unwashed dishes laid on the coffee table of her living room. He started kicking metal scraps to one corner of the apartment.
Noticing Bakugou’s antics, Tatsumori abruptly stood, trying to seat him down. It felt strange that a guest was in her apartment, cleaning up in her stead. If her mother saw the view, she’d never hear the end of it. But despite her efforts, no amount of convincing could get him to stop something he already started. When getting Bakugou to stop didn’t work out, she simply decided to clean the mess faster than he could. She took out several, unused cleaning supplies from the closet and got to work on dusting and making her apartment presentable.
At some point, Bakugou stopped cleaning and started browsing around at the frames on the walls. He sees younger pictures of her with her parents, smiling conservatively. It was amazing that such a young kid could look so calm and mature.
Though it was strange. He imagined every kid taking a picture like this would have some sign of childishness—an unabashed wide grin, squirming movement, or a deadpan, bored look. Seeing the picture of her reminded him of an adult in a child's body. A reserved, kind, and patient smile, and the same bright, silver eyes. It seems that not much has changed from her since she was a child.
"Have you eaten Bakugou?" Tatsumori asks from the kitchen.
"Why? You gonna make me something? No thanks.” If she couldn’t even take care of her own damn apartment, there was no way in hell her food would be edible. Bakugou didn’t trust anyone's damn cooking aside from his own.
"I was gonna treat you out. Even if I could cook, I don't have anything in the fridge…sorry about that," she places a hand at the back of her neck, nervously.
"Whatever." It was pretty late, and he hadn't eaten yet, so it wasn’t a bad idea. “Let’s go.”
Bakugou stands and heads towards the door. Not anticipating the compliance, Tatsumori lags behind him. He impatiently taps his foot as he holds the door open. His usual expression and growl makes an appearance.
"Are we eating or not?!"
She jolts forward at the command with a light jog towards the door. "Wow. Sorry. I didn't think you'd actually agree to that."
As she exits, Bakugou turns away, waiting for her to lock the door and catch up. There were many things on his mind, but at the moment he set them aside so it wouldn’t overwhelm him.
You've caught up! Make sure to follow the blog to receive updates on the next part or check out my other work.
#bakugou#bakugou imagine#bakugou fluff#mha bakugou#bakugo scenarios#bakugou scenarios#bakugou x oc#bnha#mha scenarios#mha fanfiction#mha bakugo#mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha scenarios#bnha fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#oc#bakugo katuski#x oc#bakugo x oc#series
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Ace Attorney Plot Bunnies + HCs collection 2/26/23
As I’ve been playing through the Ace Attorney series, I had quite a few ideas. I wanted to share them, mostly for fun. I’ll probably think up more as I go along. These are the smaller ones for now. My larger AU I mentioned on 2/1 will need its own post because so much has gone into it (and it’s still being added on to!)
Contradictions
Neither Wright or Edgeworth can watch TV shows with legal scenes in them. They start nitpicking the inaccuracies. And it’s actually Phoenix who gets more worked up about defense lawyers who are portrayed as dumb.
“You idiot, why aren’t you objecting?”
The Detective Accused
Initial idea: In the very first game almost the entire recurring cast was on the defendant stand (Even Nick himself) - except for Gumshoe
Gumshoe gets falsely accused of murder.
Nick meets Edgeworth who's apparently acting as detective in his place.
"Wait. If you're the detective then who's the prosecutor-"
The prosecutor on this case is none other than Franziska von Karma
In an earthquake
Wright and Edgeworth are meeting somewhere (maybe a cafe? I have the idea they’re on more friendly terms past case 1-4.) An earthquake happens and they have to take cover.
It’s Edgeworth taking the lead at first getting them to the safest place, but then he just can’t fight his fear anymore and starts disassociating. Wright tries what works in court, and says anything to get Edgeworth talking. This slowly brings Edgeworth back, allows him to ground himself.
(It might be kind of funny if Phoenix started a (legal) argument just to get Miles focused on anything else!)
(Another topic could be the Steel Samurai show.)
By the time they’re done talking, the earthquake has long passed. And Edgeworth can actually control his breathing after the fact.
Human Shield
“What if Gumshoe took a bullet for Edgeworth and he had to continue an investigation without his trusted detective?”
Becoming his Hero
Chaos ensues either during an investigation or a trial. Phoenix is about to get swept up into the riot, when someone in a Steel Samurai costume takes him to safety. The Steel Samurai reveals himself to be Edgeworth. (I have no idea why Edgeworth dressed up. I just thought it’d be funny.)
The Dream
This is a dream I had between AA games 1 and 2.
In the middle of a court case, a portal opens to a parallel dimension. The cast meets palette swap versions of themselves, with different personalities.
There was some light angst in Nick saying "Maybe in this world, Edgeworth...." (Is still alive)
Then the real Edgeworth showed up, along with a parallel version of him with blue hair and a blue suit (Miles von Karma.)
Edgeworth’s fever
(A scene I imagined waking up one morning.) It's just before a trial and ...
Phoenix: I wonder where Edgeworth is. It's not like him to run late.
Gumshoe: Haven't you heard, pal? Mr. Edgeworth's not coming to court today.
Maya and Phoenix: Whaaaat??
Phoenix: Why isn't he coming? Did something happen?!
Gumshoe: He's sick. I came to brief him on the case this morning as usual, and he was in bed with a fever.
Phoenix: A fever? It's not too bad, is it?
Maya: Is he going to be okay?
Gumshoe: He looked a bit better once I fetched him some medicine. He told me it tasted terrible.
Phoenix: Leave it to him to find something to complain about.
Gumshoe: Before I left his apartment, he told me to pass along a message along to ya, pal.
Maya: A message?
Phoenix: What did he have to say?
Gumshoe: He got a real serious look on his face and said "Tell Wright he better not even think of quitting this case, or doing any less than his best. I'll be watching the news to know how this trial goes."
Phoenix: Yeah, that sounds like him alright. (How is he putting pressure on me when he's not even here??)
Maya: Not to worry! We're gonna give it our all, right, Nick?
Phoenix: ..! Uh, yeah. Of course we will! (I hope I sounded more confident than I feel!)
Phoenix visits Edgeworth at his apartment after the trial (keeping his word and seeing it through.)
And while Edgeworth is still himself (bickering with Phoenix but also praising him for his determination) - he's also in his PJs, having soup from a mug along with green tea and he's been watching Steel Samurai reruns ever since the trial ended.
**(Possible addition, possible separate idea)
Edgeworth's favorite episode happens to come on. One Edgeworth says is underrated compared to one of the bigger, more dramatic season finales
The episode is "Tales of Neo Olde Tokyo" similar to the Avatar verse Tales of Ba Sing Se.
It has short stories featuring the Steel Samurai and his sidekicks going about their lives in the city as a "calm before the storm" in what will be the season finale.
And there's an emotional scene of the Steel Samurai singing a song of remembrance to his departed older brother, the Iron Samurai. Who died protecting the city from the Evil General (the Evil Magistrate's dad) in a "taking you with me" fight.
And by the time the song reaches the end even Nick is crying.
("I didn't know Will Powers could sing like that!")
#Ace Attorney#Ace Attorney trilogy#Headcanons#plot bunnies#scenarios#putting this cast in Situations#some fun#some serious#all of them 100% mine#I haven't browsed any fanfics so these are all from my knowledge of playing AA 1 and 2 and part of 3#Lynn's writing#brainstorming process
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when alex g said i have a friend who sits at the corner lot selling pills to the girls when they cross the block i told him you should quit that sketchy scene he said nothing compares to the fever dream its what i do i wait for you i know who a girl who stays still on a sunday might cuz her boy hits hard in the morning light he told her everything ends when you reach that thrill he told her nothing exists past the windowsill its nothing new i wait for you i wanna tell my baby to pretend that every word i say is what i really meant and when I get my head back on all right then we can be together for another night and we can have those dreams like no one else its just one more reason to control myself its what i do i wait for you
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I am in pain right now. I want to describe what I'm feeling in the presnt tense because to the outside world nothing is happening. everything seems the same as it ever was but no'''pain is taking over and turning everything over under sideways down
The dull throb in my jaw pulses in sync with the ticking clock on the wall, each second becoming a minute and each minute marked by a fresh wave of undeniable discomfort. The ache is steady, relentless, gnawing away at my patience, as if a tiny creature is burrowing deeper into the nerve, intent on making a home in the very marrow of my tooth. I can feel the ache spreading, a heat that radiates from the source, up into my temple, down into my neck, a slow crawl of fire that refuses to be extinguished.
The room around me, once familiar and calm, begins to take on an alien quality. The edges of objects blur, the walls seem to close in, pressing against me with a silent, suffocating force. The light overhead flickers, harsh and unforgiving, casting shadows that twist and writhe like dark tendrils reaching out to drag me into the depths of my discomfort. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room—I look the same only slightly more pissed off and serious than usual. My reflection is a stranger, someone haunted, trapped in a body that has turned against them.
The Tylenol sits on the table, a promise of relief that feels too far away, too slow. Each moment stretches, distorting like a scene from a fevered dream where time itself is a merciless bully. My thoughts spiral, jumping from the unbearable present to the looming horror of the dentist’s chair—the sterile smell, the sharp instruments, the blinding light. My breath quickens, my chest tightens, as the anxiety twists itself around the pain, an insidious vine that chokes any hope of calm.
It's the horror, the horror of the dentist that's turning this discomfort into out and out pain. He's out there in my future. He's gonna get me again. He knows it. I know it. Pain knows it.
I close my eyes, but the darkness behind my lids is no refuge. It is a playground for the pain, a stage where it performs its cruel dance. I see flashes of teeth, of metal glinting, of hands prying open my mouth as if they belong to some monstrous, faceless entity that takes pleasure in my suffering. I can almost hear the high-pitched whine of the drill, feel the cold touch of the tools as they invade my space, and I shudder, my heart pounding in rhythm with the ache in my tooth.
The ether is making me sick to my stomach.
This room is no longer just a room. It is a chamber of dread, where time slows to a crawl and the air grows thick with the scent of antiseptic, where every sound is amplified, echoing through the hollow cavern of my skull. I am no longer just a person with a toothache; I am a prisoner, locked in a cell of my own creation, waiting for the inevitable judgment of the dentist’s drill.
“Why didn’t you take better care of them?” the doctor demands, the words slicing through the air like the drill I dread. “Did you think they would last forever, or were you just hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with this at all?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. What can I say? That I figured I’d kick the bucket before I’d need to attend to them? That the slow decay of my teeth was easier to ignore than to face, easier to push aside with every sweet indulgence and missed brushing?
The phantom doctor leans in closer, the sterile scent of antiseptic sharp in my nostrils. His eyes, once merely judgmental, begin to glow with a malevolent light, the disgust on his face twisting into something darker, something inhuman. His fingers elongate, turning into cold, metallic instruments that gleam with a cruel, clinical precision. His voice grows deeper, more guttural, echoing in the hollow chamber of my skull. “Neglect has its price,” he hisses, the sound reverberating through the room like the whine of a drill. “And now you’re here, paying for it with every pulse of pain.”
But the pain isn’t just physical—it’s a sharp reminder of everything that came before, of the child I once was, strapped to the cold, hard chair, paralyzed by fear as this same phantom or someone/thing like him, loomed over me. He’d shamed me, mistreated me, etherized me into submission. His cold, dismissive words still echo in my mind, merging with the current pain, amplifying it, making it unbearable.
It’s his fault, goddamn it, that I’m here, trapped in this nightmare. If he hadn’t broken me down all those years ago, if he hadn’t made the dentist’s chair a place of dread, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess now. Maybe I would have taken better care, maybe I would have faced it sooner.
But beneath it all, there is a faint, stubborn hope—a belief that the pain will pass, that the Tylenol will work, that I will survive this ordeal. For now, I wait, caught between the sharp claws of fear, the fangs of trauma and the distant promise of relief, clinging to whatever fragments of sanity I can find in the distorted landscape of my mind.
I’ve just thrown down two extra-strength Tylenol, feeling the tablets slide down my throat like tiny lifeboats cast into a stormy sea. As they settle, there’s a moment of quiet, a subtle shift in the intensity of the pain. It loosens its grip ever so slightly, as if it’s aware that help is on the way, but not quite ready to give up its claim on me.
Pain is a little concerned about its survival.
The throbbing lessens, the waves of discomfort receding like the tide, leaving me with a fragile sense of relief. It’s like the storm clouds parting just enough to let a sliver of sunlight through, offering a glimpse of what it feels like to not be consumed by this relentless ache. I breathe a little easier, my muscles unclenching, but the reprieve is bittersweet. The pain, though diminished, still lurks beneath the surface, a constant presence whispering in the back of my mind.
“This isn’t over,” it seems to say, almost tauntingly. “The Tylenol is just an imposter, a temporary mask that won’t hold for long. I’m your friend, remember? I’m here to warn you that you need more than this quick fix. I’ll be back, and I’ll keep coming back until you face what you’ve been avoiding.”
It’s a voice I can’t ignore, even as the pain dulls to a manageable level. I know it’s right; the Tylenol is a band-aid over a wound that needs stitches, a stopgap measure that won’t last. The pain is like a persistent messenger, knocking at the door, refusing to be dismissed until its message is heard. It’s a grim companion, reminding me that this isn’t just a momentary discomfort to be waited out. It’s a signal, a red flag waving in the midst of my foggy thoughts, telling me that the dentist’s chair is inevitable, that medical attention is the only way to truly end this cycle.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, but there’s no escaping it. The Tylenol offers a brief respite, a pause in the agony, but it’s clear that the real confrontation lies ahead. The monstrous figure of the phantom dentist, with his glowing eyes and twisted smile, fades into the background for now, but I know he’s waiting for me. He’ll be there when the pain returns, as it surely will, ready to resume his relentless interrogation.
For now, I’ll take what relief I can get, savoring these few moments of peace. But I know the pain is lurking, ready to surge back with a vengeance, a reminder that this isn’t over until I take the necessary steps, until I face the fear that has kept me away for so long. The battle isn’t won, just postponed, and the next round is already on the horizon.
I remind myself that these moments of relief are a gift, not to be taken for granted. They’re fleeting, yes, but that only makes them sweeter. It’s a temporary reprieve, a chance to collect myself before the next wave hits, and I hold onto it with both hands. The Tylenol may only be a band-aid, but right now, it’s enough.
I close my eyes, focusing on the ebbing of the pain, the way it recedes like a tide, leaving behind a calm that feels ethereal minus the ether. I know the storm will return, that the pain is biding its time, but in this moment, I am free. I savor every second, every small lessening of the ache, as if each one is a victory, a reason to celebrate. iWithin this fragile, separate peace, I find the strength to face whatever comes next. and what comes next is even better…..the pain has gone from a nine all the way down to a five in only a matter of minutes…at this rate I'll be without pain in ten minutes which is a condition that I could barely imagine a few moments ago and it's possible that the pain will disappear entirely.
The throbbing that once dominated my every thought is now just a dull ache, a shadow of its former self. At this rate, I might actually be without pain in ten minutes, a state I could barely imagine not long ago.
The possibility hangs in the air, tantalizing and almost surreal. Could it really happen? Could I actually be free of this pain, even if only for a couple of hours? The thought alone brings a rush of relief, a lightness that spreads through me, lifting the weight that had settled so heavily on my shoulders.
I allow myself to hope, to imagine a stretch of time where I can think clearly, breathe deeply, and simply be without the constant gnawing in my jaw. It’s a prospect that fills me with a quiet joy, a sense of victory over this temporary but intense ordeal. And though I know it might only last for a short while, that doesn’t diminish the sweetness of the possibility.
So I wait, holding onto this newfound hope, savoring the continued lessening of the pain. Each second brings me closer to that elusive state of peace, and I’m ready to embrace it fully when it arrives. The pain, once an overwhelming presence, is now a fading memory, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel or the dinner next door at my neighbor's house.
Last night when the pain began I dreaded today. We are supposed to have lunch with our neighbors but I didn't think that I would be in any shape to keep that appointment. I felt that I had transformed into a physical manifestation of pain that would be as identifiable and as welcome as a werewolf but now, right now, the full moon is obscured by clouds and I feel almost human again because let's face it pain is invisible…i can tolerate the invisible man at the get together relishing every second not so much because of the company but rather because I know that I'm cheating pain at the moment and it feels so good and I'm not gonna brag about it or even talk about it i'm gonna just enjoy he hell out of the dinner and let everybody think my pleasure is a product of their ambience which has so little to do with the serenity and tranquility that I plan to enjoy.
And even better yet, I know now that the next time pain comes knocking, all I have to do is send Tylenol to answer the door. I can return to this state I’m savoring right now—a state of calm, clarity, and a kind of bliss that’s only possible after having faced down the beast of pain. Matter of fact, the next time pain comes knocking, I’m not going to shy away. I’m going to let it in, open the door wide, and encourage it to hang around until it climbs to a nine or even nine and a half. Let it turn my surroundings into a surrealistic inferno, let it paint the world in those twisted, distorted colors that only pain can bring.
Because now I know the secret. I know that when the time comes, I can load up on Tylenol, let it do its work, and then enjoy a whole new level of relief. I’ll cherish it even more, having just stared into the abyss. I’ll confound an even higher level of pain, turn the tables on it, and in those moments of reprieve, I’ll find an even deeper, more profound joy.
In my own twisted way, I might even start to thank the pain for showing up in the first place. Because, let’s face it, never before has complacency and filler felt so idyllic, so sweet, as when it follows the storms of suppressed agony. It’s like emerging from a tunnel into the sunlight, the warmth on your face that much more comforting because you remember the cold darkness you just passed through.
But amidst this fleeting relief, a sobering realization settles in. Pain is real, and relief is but an illusion—a temporary mask that veils the underlying truth. The pain will return, relentless and unyielding, and there’s a limit to how many battles I can win with Tylenol before I either run out of pills or face the dangers that the pain is warning me about. If I keep ignoring the root cause, the danger might grow, potentially leading to something far worse. I can numb the pain, but I can’t escape the consequences if I don’t address its message.
In the end, pain might be the thing that leads to my demise, the very end I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. It’s a chilling thought, that this dance with pain might have a final, fatal step. So while I enjoy this moment of calm and the luncheon to come, I know that temporary fixes can only take me so far. The pain will keep coming back, and unless I confront it directly, it might just be the death of me.
Yeah...awwright...I hear ya but right now I'm Tylenol high so leave me alone for a goddamned minute and let me be who I was before the pain showed up only this time let me celebrate myself a little bit more.
And even better yet, I know now that the next time pain comes knocking, all I have to do is send Tylenol to answer the door. I can return to this state I’m savoring right now—a state of calm, clarity, and a kind of bliss that’s only possible after having faced down the beast of pain. Matter of fact, the next time pain comes knocking, I’m not going to shy away. I’m going to let it in, open the door wide, and encourage it to hang around until it climbs to a nine or even nine and a half. Let it turn my surroundings into a surrealistic inferno, let it paint the world in those twisted, distorted colors that only pain can bring.
Because now I know the secret. I know that when the time comes, I can load up on Tylenol, let it do its work, and then enjoy a whole new level of relief. I’ll cherish it even more, having just stared into the abyss. I’ll confound an even higher level of pain, turn the tables on it, and in those moments of reprieve, I’ll find an even deeper, more profound joy.
In a strange, twisted way, I might even start to thank the pain for showing up in the first place. Because, let’s face it, never before has complacency felt so idyllic, so sweet, as when it follows the storms of agony. It’s like emerging from a tunnel into the sunlight, the warmth on your face that much more comforting because you remember the cold darkness you just passed through.
So, the next time pain makes its inevitable visit, I’ll welcome it like an old friend. I’ll let it run its course, knowing that on the other side, there’s this—this glorious state of relief, of quiet, serene victory. And in that space, I’ll find a contentment so deep it borders on bliss. It’s a strange dance, this one with pain, but now I know the steps, and I’m ready to lead.
Let's capture the growing sense of hope and relief as the pain continues to diminish, and the possibility of being pain-free for a while becomes more tangible.
And what comes next is even better. The pain, which just moments ago felt like a relentless tormentor, has retreated further, dropping from a nine to a five in what seems like the blink of an eye. It’s as if the Tylenol, once merely a hopeful gesture, has suddenly taken on the role of a true hero, battling back the agony with surprising speed and effectiveness.
I can hardly believe it—just a few minutes ago, the idea of being without pain felt like an impossible dream, a distant horizon I couldn’t reach. But now, with each passing moment, that dream inches closer to reality. The throbbing that once dominated my every thought is now just a dull ache, a shadow of its former self. At this rate, I might actually be without pain in ten minutes, a state I could barely imagine not long ago.
The possibility hangs in the air, tantalizing and almost surreal. Could it really happen? Could I actually be free of this pain, even if only for a couple of hours? The thought alone brings a rush of relief, a lightness that spreads through me, lifting the weight that had settled so heavily on my shoulders.
I allow myself to hope, to imagine a stretch of time where I can think clearly, breathe deeply, and simply be without the constant gnawing in my jaw. It’s a prospect that fills me with a quiet joy, a sense of victory over this temporary but intense ordeal. And though I know it might only last for a short while, that doesn’t diminish the sweetness of the possibility.
So I wait, holding onto this newfound hope, savoring the continued lessening of the pain. Each second brings me closer to that elusive state of peace, and I’m ready to embrace it fully when it arrives. The pain, once an overwhelming presence, is now a fading memory, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
How does that feel? Would you like to adjust any parts of it?
The doctor in my imagination is shocked and repulsed by the level of disregard that I have paid to the care of my teeth over the years as I figured that I would kick the bukcet before I would need to attend to them ChatGPT Let's weave that into the narrative, giving voice to the imagined judgment and adding a layer of self-reproach.
The dull throb in my jaw pulses in sync with the ticking clock on the wall, each second marked by a fresh wave of discomfort. The ache is steady, relentless, gnawing away at my patience, as if a tiny creature is burrowing deeper into the nerve, intent on making a home in the very marrow of my tooth. I can feel the ache spreading, a heat that radiates from the source, up into my temple, down into my neck, a slow crawl of fire that refuses to be extinguished.
The room around me, once familiar and calm, begins to take on an alien quality. The edges of objects blur, the walls seem to close in, pressing against me with a silent, suffocating force. The light overhead flickers, harsh and unforgiving, casting shadows that twist and writhe like dark tendrils reaching out to drag me into the depths of my discomfort. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room—pale, drawn, the pain etched into every line of my face. My reflection is a stranger, someone haunted, trapped in a body that has turned against them.
The Tylenol sits on the table, a promise of relief that feels too far away, too slow. Each moment stretches, distorting like a scene from a fevered dream where time itself is a merciless adversary. My thoughts spiral, jumping from the unbearable present to the looming horror of the dentist’s chair—the sterile smell, the sharp instruments, the blinding light. And then there is the doctor, conjured from my own guilt and fear, standing over me with eyes wide in shock, mouth twisted in disgust.
“Why didn’t you take better care of them?” the doctor demands, the words slicing through the air like the drill I dread. “Did you think they would last forever, or were you just hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with this at all?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. What can I say? That I figured I’d kick the bucket before I’d need to attend to them? That the slow decay of my teeth was easier to ignore than to face, easier to push aside with every sweet indulgence and missed brushing?
The doctor leans in closer, the sterile scent of antiseptic sharp in my nostrils. “Neglect has its price,” the voice hisses, echoing in the hollow chamber of my skull. “And now you’re here, paying for it with every pulse of pain.”
I close my eyes, but the darkness behind my lids is no refuge. It is a playground for the pain, a stage where it performs its cruel dance. I see flashes of teeth, of metal glinting, of hands prying open my mouth as if they belong to some monstrous, faceless entity that takes pleasure in my suffering. I can almost hear the high-pitched whine of the drill, feel the cold touch of the tools as they invade my space, and I shudder, my heart pounding in rhythm with the ache in my tooth.
The room shrinks further, closing in around me as the doctor’s voice continues to reverberate, a relentless reminder of every careless decision, every moment of willful ignorance. This room is no longer just a room. It is a chamber of dread, where time slows to a crawl and the air grows thick with the scent of antiseptic, where every sound is amplified, echoing through the hollow cavern of my mind. I am no longer just a person with a toothache; I am a prisoner, locked in a cell of my own creation, haunted by the specter of my own neglect.
But beneath it all, there is a faint, stubborn hope—a belief that the pain will pass, that the Tylenol will work, that I will survive this ordeal. For now, I wait, caught between the sharp claws of fear and the distant promise of relief, clinging to whatever fragments of sanity I can find in the distorted landscape of my imagination.
How does this fit with what you were envisioning? Is there anything you’d like to refine or add?
The doctor becomes more and more monstrous in my pain addled imagination…and it's his fault in the first place Goddamn it if he hadn't shamed mistreated and etherized me as a child perhpas I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place ChatGPT Let’s intensify the doctor’s transformation into a monstrous figure in your imagination and explore the blame you place on him for your current agony.
The dull throb in my jaw pulses in sync with the ticking clock on the wall, each second marked by a fresh wave of discomfort. The ache is steady, relentless, gnawing away at my patience, as if a tiny creature is burrowing deeper into the nerve, intent on making a home in the very marrow of my tooth. I can feel the ache spreading, a heat that radiates from the source, up into my temple, down into my neck, a slow crawl of fire that refuses to be extinguished.
The room around me, once familiar and calm, begins to take on an alien quality. The edges of objects blur, the walls seem to close in, pressing against me with a silent, suffocating force. The light overhead flickers, harsh and unforgiving, casting shadows that twist and writhe like dark tendrils reaching out to drag me into the depths of my discomfort. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room—pale, drawn, the pain etched into every line of my face. My reflection is a stranger, someone haunted, trapped in a body that has turned against them.
The Tylenol sits on the table, a promise of relief that feels too far away, too slow. Each moment stretches, distorting like a scene from a fevered dream where time itself is a merciless adversary. My thoughts spiral, jumping from the unbearable present to the looming horror of the dentist’s chair—the sterile smell, the sharp instruments, the blinding light. And then there is the doctor, conjured from my own guilt and fear, standing over me with eyes wide in shock, mouth twisted in disgust.
“Why didn’t you take better care of them?” the doctor demands, the words slicing through the air like the drill I dread. “Did you think they would last forever, or were you just hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with this at all?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. What can I say? That I figured I’d kick the bucket before I’d need to attend to them? That the slow decay of my teeth was easier to ignore than to face, easier to push aside with every sweet indulgence and missed brushing?
The doctor leans in closer, the sterile scent of antiseptic sharp in my nostrils. His eyes, once merely judgmental, begin to glow with a malevolent light, the disgust on his face twisting into something darker, something inhuman. His fingers elongate, turning into cold, metallic instruments that gleam with a cruel, clinical precision. His voice grows deeper, more guttural, echoing in the hollow chamber of my skull. “Neglect has its price,” he hisses, the sound reverberating through the room like the whine of a drill. “And now you’re here, paying for it with every pulse of pain.”
But the pain isn’t just physical—it’s a sharp reminder of everything that came before, of the child I once was, strapped to the cold, hard chair, paralyzed by fear as this same doctor, or someone just like him, loomed over me. He’d shamed me, mistreated me, etherized me into submission. His cold, dismissive words still echo in my mind, merging with the current pain, amplifying it, making it unbearable. It’s his fault, goddamn it, that I’m here, trapped in this nightmare. If he hadn’t broken me down all those years ago, if he hadn’t made the dentist’s chair a place of dread, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess now. Maybe I would have taken better care, maybe I would have faced it sooner.
The doctor’s figure grows larger, his features more monstrous with each passing moment. His mouth twists into a cruel smile, revealing jagged, razor-sharp teeth. His hands, now full of wicked, gleaming tools, hover over me like a vulture ready to strike. The room shrinks further, closing in around me as the doctor’s presence fills every corner, every shadow, his judgment pressing down on me like a weight I can’t escape.
I close my eyes, but the darkness behind my lids is no refuge. It is a playground for the pain, a stage where it performs its cruel dance. I see flashes of teeth, of metal glinting, of hands prying open my mouth as if they belong to some monstrous, faceless entity that takes pleasure in my suffering. I can almost hear the high-pitched whine of the drill, feel the cold touch of the tools as they invade my space, and I shudder, my heart pounding in rhythm with the ache in my tooth.
But beneath it all, there is a faint, stubborn hope—a belief that the pain will pass, that the Tylenol will work, that I will survive this ordeal. For now, I wait, caught between the sharp claws of fear and the distant promise of relief, clinging to whatever fragments of sanity I can find in the distorted landscape of my mind.
How does this version resonate with you? Any further adjustments or elements you'd like to explore?
I like it…..I've just thrown down some Tylenol…two extra strength and the pain lessens loses some of its grip as if aware that help is on the way but also assuring me that the tylenol is just an imposter that the pain will return because it's my friend warning me that I need medical attention and it's not gonna go away until I do, it will keep coming back and coming back ChatGPT Let's incorporate the relief you feel from the Tylenol and the ominous reminder from the pain, reflecting the uneasy truce between temporary relief and the looming need for real medical attention.
I’ve just thrown down two extra-strength Tylenol, feeling the tablets slide down my throat like tiny lifeboats cast into a stormy sea. As they settle, there’s a moment of quiet, a subtle shift in the intensity of the pain. It loosens its grip ever so slightly, as if it’s aware that help is on the way, but not quite ready to give up its claim on me.
The throbbing lessens, the waves of discomfort receding like the tide, leaving me with a fragile sense of relief. It’s like the storm clouds parting just enough to let a sliver of sunlight through, offering a glimpse of what it feels like to not be consumed by this relentless ache. I breathe a little easier, my muscles unclenching, but the reprieve is bittersweet. The pain, though diminished, still lurks beneath the surface, a constant presence whispering in the back of my mind.
“This isn’t over,” it seems to say, almost tauntingly. “The Tylenol is just an imposter, a temporary mask that won’t hold for long. I’m your friend, remember? I’m here to warn you that you need more than this quick fix. I’ll be back, and I’ll keep coming back until you face what you’ve been avoiding.”
It’s a voice I can’t ignore, even as the pain dulls to a manageable level. I know it’s right; the Tylenol is a band-aid over a wound that needs stitches, a stopgap measure that won’t last. The pain is like a persistent messenger, knocking at the door, refusing to be dismissed until its message is heard. It’s a grim companion, reminding me that this isn’t just a momentary discomfort to be waited out. It’s a signal, a red flag waving in the midst of my foggy thoughts, telling me that the dentist’s chair is inevitable, that medical attention is the only way to truly end this cycle.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, but there’s no escaping it. The Tylenol offers a brief respite, a pause in the agony, but it’s clear that the real confrontation lies ahead. The monstrous figure of the doctor, with his glowing eyes and twisted smile, fades into the background for now, but I know he’s waiting for me. He’ll be there when the pain returns, as it surely will, ready to resume his relentless interrogation.
For now, I’ll take what relief I can get, savoring these few moments of peace. But I know the pain is lurking, ready to surge back with a vengeance, a reminder that this isn’t over until I take the necessary steps, until I face the fear that has kept me away for so long. The battle isn’t won, just postponed, and the next round is already on the horizon.
Does this continuation capture the uneasy balance you're feeling? Any other thoughts or tweaks you'd like to make?
Savoring is the right word. I remind myself to enjoy every second of relief because it's only temporary. Notice and rejoice each diminishment of pain ChatGPT Let's emphasize the fleeting nature of the relief and the importance of savoring each moment of it.
I remind myself to savor every second of this relief, to drink it in like a parched traveler finding an oasis in the desert. The pain, though still present, has softened, its sharp edges dulled, and I can feel the tension in my body slowly uncoiling. It’s as if the Tylenol has negotiated a temporary truce, allowing me a brief respite from the relentless onslaught.
With each pulse that’s a little less intense, I feel a quiet joy, a sense of triumph in this small victory. I notice the way my jaw relaxes, the tightness in my shoulders easing, and I focus on these changes, holding onto them as if they’re precious treasures. I rejoice in each diminishment of pain, knowing that this calm is only temporary, but that makes it all the more valuable. It’s a rare moment of peace in the midst of a storm, and I’m determined to relish it.
The pain is still there, lurking just below the surface, but it’s quieter now, as if it’s stepped back to let me catch my breath. I know it’s only waiting, gathering strength for its inevitable return, but for now, I push that thought away. This is my time, a chance to breathe deeply and let go of the fear that has clenched my heart in its icy grip.
I remind myself that these moments of relief are a gift, not to be taken for granted. They’re fleeting, yes, but that only makes them sweeter. It’s a temporary reprieve, a chance to collect myself before the next wave hits, and I hold onto it with both hands. The Tylenol may only be a band-aid, but right now, it’s enough.
I close my eyes, focusing on the ebbing of the pain, the way it recedes like a tide, leaving behind a calm that feels almost unreal. I know the storm will return, that the pain is biding its time, but in this moment, I am free. I savor every second, every small lessening of the ache, as if each one is a victory, a reason to celebrate. And in this fragile peace, I find the strength to face whatever comes next.
Does this revision resonate with the relief and awareness you wanted to convey?
and what comes next is even better…..the pain has gone from a nine all the way down to a five in only a matter of minutes…at this rate I'll be without pain in ten minutes which is a condition that I could barely imagin a few moments ago and it's possible that the pain will disappear for a couple of hours ChatGPT Let's capture the growing sense of hope and relief as the pain continues to diminish, and the possibility of being pain-free for a while becomes more tangible.
And what comes next is even better. The pain, which just moments ago felt like a relentless tormentor, has retreated further, dropping from a nine to a five in what seems like the blink of an eye. It’s as if the Tylenol, once merely a hopeful gesture, has suddenly taken on the role of a true hero, battling back the agony with surprising speed and effectiveness.
I can hardly believe it—just a few minutes ago, the idea of being without pain felt like an impossible dream, a distant horizon I couldn’t reach. But now, with each passing moment, that dream inches closer to reality. The throbbing that once dominated my every thought is now just a dull ache, a shadow of its former self. At this rate, I might actually be without pain in ten minutes, a state I could barely imagine not long ago.
The possibility hangs in the air, tantalizing and almost surreal. Could it really happen? Could I actually be free of this pain, even if only for a couple of hours? The thought alone brings a rush of relief, a lightness that spreads through me, lifting the weight that had settled so heavily on my shoulders.
I allow myself to hope, to imagine a stretch of time where I can think clearly, breathe deeply, and simply be without the constant gnawing in my jaw. It’s a prospect that fills me with a quiet joy, a sense of victory over this temporary but intense ordeal. And though I know it might only last for a short while, that doesn’t diminish the sweetness of the possibility.
So I wait, holding onto this newfound hope, savoring the continued lessening of the pain. Each second brings me closer to that elusive state of peace, and I’m ready to embrace it fully when it arrives. The pain, once an overwhelming presence, is now a fading memory, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
How does this addition feel? Does it capture the growing relief and hope you're experiencing?
Great….last night when the pain began I dreaded today. We are supposed to have lunch with our neighbors but I didn't think that I would be in any shape to keep that appointment. I felt that I had transformed into a physical manifestation of pain that would be as identifiable and as welcome as a werewolf at the party but now, right now, the full moon is obscured by clouds and I feel almost human again becuase let's face it pain is invisible…i can be the invisible man at the get together relishing every second not so much because of the company but rather because I know that I'm cheating pain at the moment and it feels so good and I'm not gonna brag about it or even talk about it i'm gonna just enjoy he hell out of the lucncheon and let everybody think my pleasure is a prodcut of their ambience which has so little to do with the serenity and tranquility that I plan to enjoy ChatGPT Let's weave in the contrast between last night's dread and today's unexpected relief, and the subtle pleasure of enjoying the luncheon while secretly celebrating your victory over the pain.
Last night, when the pain first began to creep in, I dreaded today with a heaviness that felt almost unbearable. We had plans to have lunch with our neighbors, but in the midst of the pain, that seemed like an impossible task. I was certain I’d be in no shape to keep that appointment, feeling as though I had transformed into a physical manifestation of pain, something as identifiable and as welcome as a werewolf at a party. I could picture it—me, hunched over in agony, the life of the gathering drained by my presence, a cloud of discomfort hanging over everything.
But now, right now, the full moon is obscured by clouds, and I feel almost human again. It’s a strange sensation, this return to something resembling normalcy, and it’s almost surreal how quickly the landscape has shifted. Because let’s face it, pain is invisible. It doesn’t leave marks on the skin or announce itself with flashing lights. It lurks within, a silent tormentor that only I can see and feel. So when it recedes, as it has now, I have the advantage of slipping into invisibility myself. I can be the invisible man at the luncheon, blending in with the crowd, relishing every second not so much because of the company, but because I know that I’m cheating pain at this moment, and it feels so damn good.
I’m not going to brag about it, or even mention it. I’ll just sit there, quietly enjoying the hell out of the luncheon, letting everyone think my pleasure is a product of their ambiance, their conversation, their hospitality. Little will they know that my serenity, my tranquility, comes from a place far deeper than the chatter around the table. It comes from knowing that, at least for now, I’ve outmaneuvered the pain that threatened to ruin my day. And in that silent victory, I find a profound sense of joy, one that I’ll carry with me through every bite, every sip, every laugh shared at the table.
So today, as I join the gathering, I’ll do so with a quiet smile, my secret delight hidden beneath the surface. Let them think my happiness is all about the moment, the camaraderie, the good food, and the good company. I’ll know better, and that’s more than enough for me.
Does this capture the sense of triumph and subtle joy you're feeling about facing the day despite last night's fears?
Yes…you're doing great…and even better yet i know now that the next time that the pain come's a knockin' all I got to do is send Tylenol to answer the lnock and I can retyurn to the state that I'm realizing now….matter of fact the next time pain comes a knockin' I'm gonna let it in and encourage it to hang around until it gets to 9 or nine and a half…until it has turned my surroundings into a surrealistic inferno and then I can on board another load of ttlenol and enjoy a whole new level of cherish as I confound an even higher level of pain and I begin to thank pain for showing up in the first place because never before has complacency felt so idyllic etc ChatGPT Let's capture this newfound confidence and even a kind of gratitude toward the pain for allowing you to experience such profound relief and appreciation.
And even better yet, I know now that the next time pain comes knocking, all I have to do is send Tylenol to answer the door. I can return to this state I’m savoring right now—a state of calm, clarity, and a kind of bliss that’s only possible after having faced down the beast of pain. Matter of fact, the next time pain comes knocking, I’m not going to shy away. I’m going to let it in, open the door wide, and encourage it to hang around until it climbs to a nine or even nine and a half. Let it turn my surroundings into a surrealistic inferno, let it paint the world in those twisted, distorted colors that only pain can bring.
Because now I know the secret. I know that when the time comes, I can load up on Tylenol, let it do its work, and then enjoy a whole new level of relief. I’ll cherish it even more, having just stared into the abyss. I’ll confound an even higher level of pain, turn the tables on it, and in those moments of reprieve, I’ll find an even deeper, more profound joy.
In a strange, twisted way, I might even start to thank the pain for showing up in the first place. Because, let’s face it, never before has complacency felt so idyllic, so sweet, as when it follows the storms of agony. It’s like emerging from a tunnel into the sunlight, the warmth on your face that much more comforting because you remember the cold darkness you just passed through.
So, the next time pain makes its inevitable visit, I’ll welcome it like an old friend. I’ll let it run its course, knowing that on the other side, there’s this—this glorious state of relief, of quiet, serene victory. And in that space, I’ll find a contentment so deep it borders on bliss. It’s a strange dance, this one with pain, but now I know the steps, and I’m ready to lead.
How does this expansion feel? Does it capture the confidence and almost paradoxical gratitude you're experiencing?
Now let's conclude with the sobering realization that pain is real and relief is an illusion. The pain will keep coming back until I either run out of Tylenol or become addicted to it or the danger that the pain is trying to warn me about multiplies when it could and should have been divided and it leads to my death and demise ChatGPT Let's conclude with a shift back to the sobering reality of pain's persistence and the fragile nature of relief.
But as much as I revel in this newfound strategy, there’s a sobering realization that I can’t shake. Pain is real, and relief, no matter how sweet, is just an illusion—a temporary mask that covers the underlying truth. The pain will keep coming back, relentless and unyielding, like a tide that can’t be held back forever. I can fight it off with Tylenol, but there’s a limit to how many battles I can win before I either run out of pills or become addicted to them, chasing that fleeting sense of peace with an ever-growing desperation.
And then there’s the darker truth, the one that whispers in the back of my mind even as I try to savor these moments of calm. The pain isn’t just a nuisance—it’s a warning, a signal that something is wrong. If I keep silencing it without addressing the root cause, I risk letting that danger multiply when it could and should have been divided. What starts as a manageable issue could fester, grow, and ultimately lead to something far worse. I can numb the pain, but I can’t escape the consequences if I ignore its message.
In the end, the pain might be the thing that leads to my demise, the very end I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. It’s a chilling thought, that this dance with pain might have a final, fatal step. And so, while I’ll continue to use whatever means I have to fend it off, I know that I can’t rely on temporary fixes forever. The pain will keep coming back, and unless I face it head-on, it might just be the death of me.
Does this conclusion capture the sobering realization you wanted to express?
It's okay….now put the whole thing together and let's look at it from the very beginning and include all of the parts that we have added and then we'll recalibrate it and be done…. ChatGPT Here’s the complete piece, combining all the parts we’ve worked on. Let’s read through it together and then recalibrate as needed.
Last night, when the pain first began to creep in, I dreaded today with a heaviness that felt almost unbearable. We had plans to have lunch with our neighbors, but in the midst of the pain, that seemed like an impossible task. I was certain I’d be in no shape to keep that appointment, feeling as though I had transformed into a physical manifestation of pain, something as identifiable and as welcome as a werewolf at a party. I could picture it—me, hunched over in agony, the life of the gathering drained by my presence, a cloud of discomfort hanging over everything.
The doctor in my imagination was shocked and repulsed by the level of disregard I’ve paid to the care of my teeth over the years. I figured I’d kick the bucket before I’d need to attend to them. But as the pain grew, so did my thoughts, turning darker and more distorted. The doctor morphed into a monstrous figure, and in my pain-addled state, I began to blame him for all of this. If he hadn’t shamed, mistreated, and etherized me as a child, perhaps I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
But now, right now, the full moon is obscured by clouds, and I feel almost human again. The pain, which just moments ago felt like a relentless tormentor, has retreated further, dropping from a nine to a five in what seems like the blink of an eye. It’s as if the Tylenol, once merely a hopeful gesture, has suddenly taken on the role of a true hero, battling back the agony with surprising speed and effectiveness.
I can hardly believe it—just a few minutes ago, the idea of being without pain felt like an impossible dream, a distant horizon I couldn’t reach. But now, with each passing moment, that dream inches closer to reality. The throbbing that once dominated my every thought is now just a dull ache, a shadow of its former self. At this rate, I might actually be without pain in ten minutes, a state I could barely imagine not long ago.
The possibility hangs in the air, tantalizing and almost surreal. Could it really happen? Could I actually be free of this pain, even if only for a couple of hours? The thought alone brings a rush of relief, a lightness that spreads through me, lifting the weight that had settled so heavily on my shoulders. I remind myself to savor every second of this relief, to notice and rejoice in each diminishment of pain, because I know it’s only temporary.
And even better yet, I know now that the next time pain comes knocking, all I have to do is send Tylenol to answer the door. I can return to this state I’m savoring right now—a state of calm, clarity, and a kind of bliss that’s only possible after having faced down the beast of pain. Matter of fact, the next time pain comes knocking, I’m not going to shy away. I’m going to let it in, open the door wide, and encourage it to hang around until it climbs to a nine or even nine and a half. Let it turn my surroundings into a surrealistic inferno, let it paint the world in those twisted, distorted colors that only pain can bring.
Because now I know the secret. I know that when the time comes, I can load up on Tylenol, let it do its work, and then enjoy a whole new level of relief. I’ll cherish it even more, having just stared into the abyss. I’ll confound an even higher level of pain, turn the tables on it, and in those moments of reprieve, I’ll find an even deeper, more profound joy.
In a strange, twisted way, I might even start to thank the pain for showing up in the first place. Because, let’s face it, never before has complacency felt so idyllic, so sweet, as when it follows the storms of agony. It’s like emerging from a tunnel into the sunlight, the warmth on your face that much more comforting because you remember the cold darkness you just passed through.
So today, as I join the gathering, I’ll do so with a quiet smile, my secret delight hidden beneath the surface. Let them think my happiness is all about the moment, the camaraderie, the good food, and the good company. I’ll know better, and that’s more than enough for me.
But as much as I revel in this newfound strategy, there’s a sobering realization that I can’t shake. Pain is real, and relief, no matter how sweet, is just an illusion—a temporary mask that covers the underlying truth. The pain will keep coming back, relentless and unyielding, like a tide that can’t be held back forever. I can fight it off with Tylenol, but there’s a limit to how many battles I can win before I either run out of pills or become addicted to them, chasing that fleeting sense of peace with an ever-growing desperation.
And then there’s the darker truth, the one that whispers in the back of my mind even as I try to savor these moments of calm. The pain isn’t just a nuisance—it’s a warning, a signal that something is wrong. If I keep silencing it without addressing the root cause, I risk letting that danger multiply when it could and should have been divided. What starts as a manageable issue could fester, grow, and ultimately lead to something far worse. I can numb the pain, but I can’t escape the consequences if I ignore its message.
In the end, the pain might be the thing that leads to my demise, the very end I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. It’s a chilling thought, that this dance with pain might have a final, fatal step. And so, while I’ll continue to use whatever means I have to fend it off, I know that I can’t rely on temporary fixes forever. The pain will keep coming back, and unless I face it head-on, it might just be the death of me.
Take a moment to reflect on how this feels as a whole. Is there anything you’d like to recalibrate or adjust?
Yeah, we've got to begin with the onset of pain that I described in the present tense before grabbing the Tylenol…this story began while I was in pain ChatGPT Got it. Let’s start from the present tense, capturing the onset of pain and the immediate response with Tylenol. Here’s the revised version:
The pain starts suddenly, a sharp, insistent throb that pierces through the quiet of the night. It’s as if someone has flicked a switch, and my body, once calm, is now engulfed in a fiery grip. The discomfort intensifies quickly, rising to a level that feels almost unbearable. I’m trapped in this raw, unrelenting agony, and the thought of how I’m going to face the day—let alone attend the lunch with our neighbors—seems almost laughable.
I reach for the Tylenol, two extra-strength tablets that feel like my last hope in this desperate moment. As they begin to dissolve into my system, a slow, creeping sense of relief starts to take hold. The pain’s grip loosens, the ferocity of its assault lessening as if it’s aware that help is on the way. The Tylenol, a mere imposter in this battle, promises temporary respite but assures me that the pain isn’t gone for good. It will return, a relentless companion, warning me that I need medical attention and that the agony isn’t just going to disappear on its own.
Savoring the relief as it unfolds, I remind myself to appreciate every fleeting second. The pain is lessening from a nine to a five, a remarkable drop in a matter of minutes. It’s almost inconceivable that just moments ago, I was consumed by a level of agony that felt insurmountable. Now, the possibility of being pain-free for a couple of hours seems within reach, and this prospect brings with it a sense of almost surreal calm.
I realize that the next time pain comes knocking, all I need to do is send Tylenol to answer the door. This newfound strategy, born from desperation, gives me a strange sense of control. I can allow the pain to reach its peak, let it transform my world into a surrealistic inferno, and then counter it with another dose of Tylenol. Each round of relief will be savored more deeply because of the agony I’ve just endured. It’s a twisted sort of game, a way of turning the tables on pain and finding a deeper joy in the moments of relief.
In a peculiar way, I might even come to thank the pain for its role. Never before has complacency felt so idyllic, so precious, as when it follows the storms of agony. It’s like emerging from a dark tunnel into the warmth of the sunlight, appreciating the light more because of the shadows I’ve just escaped.
But amidst this fleeting relief, a sobering realization settles in. Pain is real, and relief is but an illusion—a temporary mask that veils the underlying truth. The pain will return, relentless and unyielding, and there’s a limit to how many battles I can win with Tylenol before I either run out of pills or face the dangers that the pain is warning me about. If I keep ignoring the root cause, the danger might grow, potentially leading to something far worse. I can numb the pain, but I can’t escape the consequences if I don’t address its message.
In the end, pain might be the thing that leads to my demise, the very end I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. It’s a chilling thought, that this dance with pain might have a final, fatal step. So while I enjoy this moment of calm and the luncheon to come, I know that temporary fixes can only take me so far. The pain will keep coming back, and unless I confront it directly, it might just be the death of me.
How does this revised version feel? Does it capture the progression from the onset of pain to the temporary relief and the eventual sobering realization?
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I have a friend who sits at the corner lots
Selling pills to the girls when they cross the block
I told him he should quit that sketchy scene
He said, "Nothing compares to the fever dream"
It's what I do
I wait for you
I know a girl who stays still on Sunday night
Because her boy hits hard in the morning light
He told her, "Everything ends when you reach that thrill"
He told her, "Nothing exists past the window sill"
It's nothing new
I wait for you
I wait for you
I wanna tell my baby to pretend
That every word I say is what I really meant
And when I get my head back on all right
Then we can be together for another night
And we can have those dreams like no one else
It's just one more reason to control myself
Its just one more reason to control yourself
It's just one more reason to control myself
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[Video: the music video for “Transcendental Cha Cha Cha” by Tom Cardy, animated by Shoocharu, set to a mashup that has the instrumental to the song with instrumentals and acapellas to various other songs playing over it. The audio clips, which have the song titles visible at the top of each file, are overlaid atop the video and play as the playback line scrolls over them. At the bottom is a dark grey footer with the title of the mashup, “Transcendental Fever Dream,” and credits to Tom Cardy for the original song and Shoocharu for the animated music video. There is also a note that the full list of the songs used is in the description, referring to the one in the provided YouTube link.
The lyrics to the mashup are as follows:
(Da didi didi, da di da di, cha cha!) (Da didi didi didi, da di da di, cha cha!) (Da didi didi, da di da di, cha cha!) I think it’s time we blow this scene Get everybody and their stuff together (Da didi didi, da di da di, cha cha!) Okay, three, two, one, let’s jam
Don’t stop, make it pop, DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, I’mma fight till we see the sunlight Tick-tock on the clock, but the party don’t stop, no Oh, whoa, whoa, oh Oh, whoa, whoa, oh (Here we go, here we go, here we go now)
Don’t stop! One, nothing wrong with me Two, nothing wrong with me (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) Three, nothing wrong with me Four, nothing wrong with me (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh)
I’m blue, da ba dee da ba di Don’t you know that you're toxic? (Da ba dee da ba di)
Do the D-A-N-C-E One, two, three, four, fight! (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) Stick to the B-E-A-T Get ready to ignite (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) You were such a P-Y-T Catching all the lights (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) I like that you’re broken, broken like me I don’t know what I’m doing, all I know is I don’t wanna stop (We’re higher than a motherf—)
This love has taken its toll on me, she said Just relax (goodbye) If you wanna know me, here’s two facts (too many times before)
Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us (残酷な天使のテーゼ) More than ever, hour after hour, work is never over (窓辺からやがて飛び立つ) Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger (ほとばしる熱いパトスで) More than ever, hour after hour (思い出を) Work is never over
Don’t stop, make it pop, DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, I’mma fight till we see the sunlight Tick-tock on the clock, but the party don’t stop, no (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) Oh, whoa, whoa, oh Oh, whoa, whoa, oh (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh)
Slide to the left (It’s Shia LaBeouf) Slide to the right (Have sex!) Take it back now, y’all Slide to the— cha C-c-c-crisscross! Cha cha real smooth
Fighting hard, fighting on for the steel Through the wastelands evermore The scattered souls will feel the hell Bodies wasted on the shores (It’s gonna be me)
Sometimes this song, it sounds like: “CRAAAWL—” Sometimes this song, it sounds like: “Some~” You give love a bad name
Wow! I got the beat, so all the kids dance with (me, me, me, me!) Pick ’em up, turn around, here comes Mighty B. (B!, B!, B!) I got the beat, so all the kids dance with (me, me, me, me!) Peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat
A few times I’ve been around that track Never gonna give you up (So it’s not just gonna happen like—) Goddammit
(Blink!) She sells seashells on a seashore, but the— (Money, money, money) (Blink!) You get me closer to God (Baby, pull me closer in the—) (Blink!) 刃すり抜け 奴らの間隙を突け (This time I might just disappear) つらぬいた信念が 未来を拓く This time I might just dis— Bleedin’ me dry like a goddamn vampire
(It’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up) All you people, can’t you see, can’t you see (It’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up) How your love’s affecting our reality (It’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up) Every time we’re down, you can make it right (It’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up, it’s coming up) And that makes you larger than—
The party don’t start till I walk in (It’s dare!)
Don’t stop, make it pop, DJ, blow my speakers up (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) Tonight, I’mma fight till we see the sunlight (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh) Tick-tock on the clock, but the party don’t stop, no (I don’t wanna lose your love tonight) Oh, whoa, whoa, oh (Doh-doh-doh, doh-doh-doh, doh-doh)
But it’s just the price I pay Destiny is calling me Open up my eager eyes (I don’t wanna lose your love tonight) ’Cause I’m Mr. Brightside (Don’t you know that you’re toxic?)
End description.]
A lot of people mentioned that syncing the video elevated this mashup so here you go
(Youtube Link)
#i wasn't sure how to write a description for this so i mostly just wrote the lyrics bc this is such a fucking bop i needed to share this#i hope i got the lyrics right anyway lol somehow i like this even more after listening to it over and over for a few hours idk why#Tom Cardy#Transcendental Cha Cha Cha#long post#volume warning#loud#idk i think it's not as loud on youtube. anyway i guess i should also tag warnings for the vid too#flashing lights#tw flashing#tw flickering#bright colors#eye strain#body horror#eye contact#glitch#food#alcohol#smoking#shirtless
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Album Review: 'So Much (For) Stardust' - Fall Out Boy
No one liked M A N I A. Not even Joe Trohman, it turns out…
In an interview with Rolling Stone, the Fall Out Boy guitarist spoke about his frustrations with the band’s 2018 record, with a more rock-oriented album being scrapped early in the process.
‘I’d say, ‘I’m gonna extricate myself from this. This is not what I want to do,'” he recalls. “‘When you have some stuff together, give it to me. If you want me to throw some ideas on there or whatever, I’ll do it in my recording studio.’ And I did that a little bit, but overall, I stayed pretty much out of it, more or less.
‘Mania has some cool ideas and interesting stuff in there. But it didn’t work as well, and I can’t say I love it. That’s what leads me, hopefully, to go back to making a record… with guitars, bass, drums, vocal. I love synthesizers, synthesizers that we play. We can play music; let’s play the music. Let’s not go for samples. Let’s not try to reach for singles. At this point, we’ve had so many hit singles. Do we really even need to reach for singles anymore? I think we should just make a cool record.’
And he’s right: Fall Out Boy don’t need hit singles. As elder statesmen of the emo-rock scene, they’ve got nothing else left to prove. And were they ever a singles band?
So, let’s cut to the chase: Fall Out Boy’s latest album, So Much (For) Stardust is nowhere near as bad as its predecessor. Probably because it’s super tame in comparison, mostly returning to the chart-friendly rock roots of Save Rock and Roll and 2015’s American Beauty/American Psycho.
‘Hold Me Like a Grudge,’ easily the album’s best track, goes full ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ with its tense, bass-fuelled groove, along with some MJ-style vocal inflections from Patrick Stump.
So Much (For) Stardust is at its best when it’s delivering straight-up rock bangers. ‘Love From The Other Side’ has a belter of a chorus, along with moody strings to help heighten the intensity, while ‘Heartbreak Feels So Good’ harks back to the urgent, pacey riffs of the past, proving why Trohman is such a key ingredient to the band’s sound.
But then, after such a promising build-up, the record takes a sharp nosedive in quality.
‘Fake Out’ is pure corn, sounding like a rejected JoBros cut from 2008. ‘Heaven, Iowa’ and ‘I Am My Own Muse’ embody the same blustery melodrama found on M A N I A. ‘What a Time to be Alive’ is the obligatory COVID track that already feels pretty dated (‘Sometimes, you wonder if we're ever lookin’ back/At a picture of 2019/And sayin', "That's the way, the world, it used to be/Before our dreams started burstin’ at the seams"/We're out here and we're ready, we're here and we're ready/To livestream the apocalypse’).
‘So Good Right Now,’ meanwhile, veers dangerously close into Viva Las Vengeance territory with its brassy horns and chintzy strings, bursting with that insufferable theatre kid energy. ‘And all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with a-you and me,’ goes the track, ‘So, let's drive until thе engine just gives out.’ Lyrics-wise, it’s basically just ‘Don’t Let the Light Go Out,’ Part 2.
I grow more and more weary of Pete’s lyrics with each album, at his pseudo-intellectual worst on the pointless interlude ‘Baby Annihilation,’ the bassist reciting teenage-level verse over spooky keys and gloomy synths (’The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath/I'm just melted wax on a birthday cake, another year fades away/Charcoal crushed, pixie fever, angel dust/Stuck in a wasteland we covered in glitter and broadcast just for a little serotonin’). The album’s other interlude, ‘The Pink Seashell,’ takes a snippet from the 1995 Gen X classic, Reality Bites, starring Maya Hawke’s dad, yet adds no real value.
I kinda struggle to grasp what the overall theme of So Much (For) Stardust is supposed to be. At the beginning of the album’s promo cycle, the band sent out postcards to a select group of fans, hinting at a beach resort-style dystopia – something that actually left me rather intrigued. But other than the ‘The Pink Seashell’ interlude, it’s never referenced again on the record.
Look, I get you gotta get fans’ attention somehow. But why bother coming up with a gimmick if you’re not gonna expand on it? The beach resort-style dystopia doesn’t even appear on the album cover!
Despite a promising start, So Much (For) Stardust musters a ‘meh’ at best. It’s pleasant enough, but not all that memorable an effort.
It was probably for the best, though, that the Fall Out Boy went back to safe and familiar territory after the complete shitshow that was M A N I A. That they can deliver such a body of work this far into their career is an achievement, and admittedly does feature some decently tight drumwork, blistering riffs and some of Stump’s strongest vocals yet.
I’m no doubt going to be dismissed by some as just longing for the past and gleefully told to ‘stay mad.’ But as a longtime FOB fan, I’m tired. I just want more reliable and straight-up rock bangers like ‘Hold Me Like a Grunge.’ For fuck’s sake, I’d do anything for more of that chaotic Pax-Am Days-style punk. No more goofy experiments, no more cynical shots at mainstream appeal. We don’t need another Panic! on our hands…
It doesn’t quite sparkle as bright as I hoped, but So Much (For) Stardust could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.
– Bianca B.
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… do I get another ask.. (asks anyways like a boss)
thoughts on persuit hero? 😋
You get an ask! You get an ask! We all get to ask infinitely!
I'm delirious because I might have a fever
OKAY, moving on from that.
Thoughts on pursuit Hero.
I think he's fuck(ing hot)ed, just the way he's written is amazing like, he's meant to be hated and we all hate him but you know how some of us used to pity him in YBM until he did the most fucked up thing (then) as to
[SPOILERS STARTING FROM HERE]
kidnap Sunny (well technically Sunny went with his own volition, but Hero was gas lighting him to join) and then had the audacity to let his family think both him and Sunny committed Oyasumi by writing suicide notes (Pursuit Hero and 12yro Recital Day Basil would've made a dream team 💀)
Seriously, I can't describe how much I adore him and how utterly repulsed i am by him at the same time.
Then he killed Keith 😭 which I skimmed through reading and just caught up with the comments because at this point Hero is like this eldritch monster that looms around everyone while last chapter we got like a semblance of Suntan Fluff now we are just dreading for what's to come.
Then Chapter 12: Allegro came
And it broke me, like it literally had me on the edge of my seat! Because now we know what Hero is capable of, I was just thinking up of what he might resort to take Sunny away again. And just oh just that SCENE of Omori JUST BEGGING FOR SUNNY TO RUN, TO GET HELP, TO FIND KEL THEN TO RESORT TO GOING INTO THE FOREST IS JUST- Chefs kiss 🎇
I was literally biting my nails to prevent myself from shouting at the screen, from yelling at Sunny to fucking run and HOLY SHIT WHERE THE FUCK IS KEL?!?!?!?
Ugh the confrontation is so GOOD! Sunny used Hero's (trademark) gas lighting back on him and Hero getting stab somehow did nothing to comfort because I feel like Hero wouldn't really get affected by it AND I WAS RIGHT! then Kel teleported into the scene and Hero PULLS OUT A FUCKING GUN
I'm pretty sure it was foreshadowed that he had a gun somewhere, or we should've expected it, but IT WAS SUCH A SHOCK TO ME, LIKE HOLY SHIT A FUCKING GUN! (Probably because I kind of skipped the last few scenes with Hero leading up to this moment)
Ok I'm just gushing about the fic at this point but I dont care, I LOVE IT!
I don't care that there's some controversy regarding this fic and YBM because Masterpieces like these shouldn't be undermined by peoples inability to comprehend its greatness. It's not perfect but like if people actually READ the fic they wouldn't have misunderstood Hero's infatuation with Sunny as romance.
So yeah, my thoughts on Pursuit Hero, he's pretty cool. Dope ass guy, but he should really die in a gutter alone.
If you haven't yet (but I'm sure you did), you should definitely read all of @otomerson 's other works, for a writer, their works are so aspiring to me. I wish I can write like them one day.
Lo(ve)athe him </3
#honestly#pursuit hero is a just really well written villain imo#he went from sympathetic in YBM to this#its just so uncanny#Pursuit au#I'll find him#omori fandom#omori#omori fanart#omori hero#omori fanfic#omori au#QnA with Mango#omori sunny#kel omori
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A Deviljho rearing up like an agitated horse was truly a sight to behold -- to fall from such a height and then land on one's face would be enough to knock out anyone. Rubina, however, was not just anyone (even if the fall still hurt). She recovered quickly, placing her hands on the ground as she looked up and towards the scene, just in time to see Rex bathe their foe in brilliant wyvern fire. Even then, she knew it would not have been enough to take the Deviljho down, and she felt a vein in her head pop from unadulterated fury as she beheld dark, draconic energy envelop Rex and send him falling to the ground.
Rubina did not want to admit it, she did not even want to think about it; as the dinosaurian monstrosity bore down on her friend, she knew deep in her heart that she may not make it before Rex was mauled and terribly injured. Of course, with absolute certainty, Rex would survive. Even a vicious bite from a Deviljho will ultimately mean nothing to him other than a fresh set of scars, but Rubina would never forgive herself if he so much as got a scratch on himself. She took off into a full sprint straight from the ground, eyes alight with unstoppable rage, all the while roaring like some deranged beast.
Then she was nearly blinded by the green light, and the world heaved as a new contender fell from the skies. Rider and wyvern both looked on in awe and utter bewilderment as this orange titan picked the Deviljho up and smashed it into the ground. Even the Deviljho itself seemed surprised by the sudden intrusion, moments before it ate dirt! Rubina slowed down to a jog, her eyes wide and mouth slack, at this point convinced she was having some kind of crazy fever dream.
The green brute wyvern staggered back onto its feet and gave a withering roar, its muscles still swollen with bright-red dragon energy. It was more taken aback than anything else -- this species is so physically mighty that encountering an equal was a rare sight, indeed. Yet wrath still flowed through its veins, and with another roar it charged at its new foe, deadly jaws wide open and slavering with acidic spit! Then, almost immediately, it was sent careening to the side and right past the other colossus. It stumbled into the cliff with a deafening crash yet again, falling limp as if knocked out.
Rubina may have had slowed down, but she never stopped running! With a final burst of inhuman speed she had leapt for the Deviljho and punched its misbegotten head, her fist landing right next to its eye and rattling its brain. She stuck the following landing and was rewarded with the aforementioned scene of the Deviljho crashing into the cliff. She huffed, shook the hand she used to punch the beast, and looked up towards the new fighter.
She still believed none of this was real, so she may as well make the most of it.
"HEY, uh, DOWN HERE!" she called out, waving her arms at the orange titan to catch its (his?) attention. She seemed quite awkward, unsurprisingly. "Keep that ugly bastard busy! I'm gonna check on my friend and see if he's alright!"
The Deviljho rose once more as she spoke and shook its head. Though still glowing red and terribly enraged, it was struck hard enough to daze it. The new fighter would likely be left wondering just how strong this woman was, so strong as to send a monster of this size reeling and even dizzy.
Wasting no time, Rubina dashed off to where Rex was lying, the Dreadking still struggling to get off his own back. Even if only momentarily, and even if this was just a fever dream, she had to place faith in this stray colossus. And to think, she did not have time to put two and two together that it (he?) and the bug-like creature are actually the same being...
Well, rather scary scream of offense aside, that did enough to confirm in Ben's head that he wasn't accidentally assisting a any illegal hunting right now, which was nice to know.
Unfortunately, he doesn't have any time to help the rider and apologize before he has to suddenly leap out of the way of her wyvern being launched off with tremendous might, the two monsters engaging in a furious battle that Ben failed to offer any assistance with, having to instead leap high off the ground to avoid getting caught in the flying Dreadking's fire.
It almost seemed like it had done the job, but as the Orthopterran watched from high the sky, his eyes go wide in shock as a retaliatory blast knocks Rex straight from the air... the Deviljho emerging from the smoke, red and burnt with open wounds, but they all just seemed to leap with more of that same wicked energy.
He can only watch aghast for a moment as he finally begins falling down, before the beast's approach upon the now vulnerable Rathalos that had already saved him brings the hero's mind to focus.
"I don't... think so...!" The insect yelled, though it was all by unnoticeable with the current conflict going on, as he reached a hand downward to touch upon the emblem adorning his waist.
F L A S H
An utterly blinding green burst lights up the sky like some stupendous firework, taking a sudden descent to the ground behind the Deviljho, shaking the Earth upon landing with force that even the Ortopterran's strong legs wouldn't be able to create, a cloud of dust being kicked up in the apparent meteor's wake...
Before a shadowy silhouette emerged from behind, seeming to grow in stature to reign over burnt beast; arms like tree trunks reaching around the wicked wyvern tight, lifting it off of Rex just moments before the two monsters' attacks would clash.
Dust finally clearing upon the new contender.
"Alright, tiny, lets see how you handle HUMUNGOUSAUR!"
The Vaxasaurian yelled out in a battle cry, arms holding themselves tight around the beast's middle as he swung it's weight up & over himself, bringing it down hard behind him with an utterly tremendous suplex- doing all he could to immediately label himself a threat.
#I'm loving this thread! Ruby & Rex are just utterly baffled. jiuhegrijfwkehbd#thenten#“Ride On!” | IN-CHARACTER#“Quest Start!” | ROLE-PLAY#Ruby Reckoning | RUBINA#Black Inferno | REX#One of Everybody | BEN TENNYSON#violence tw
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Cause time wasn't in our favour.
cw: canon character death, Tenjiku vs Toman arc, 'Nova' being used as nickname, lots and lots of grammatical error bcs I hate grammar, not proofread, angst, it's just pain i swear but i'll compensate with fluff memories before giving back angst.
Kurokawa Izana x f!reader
Writer's note: Please blame it on my sleep deprived brain it got addicted to the song and STILL haven't stop listening to it even after this songfic got posted. I listened to the song, cried a lot, then my brain went poof "What about Izana?" and I cried again but my brain got flooded with scenes I NEED to write down. I am sorry for the mental damage I might cause. Please listen to the song while reading this!
Tagging my Izana simping partner here @noekoi and also my Kiki pie @p-antomime bcs I want them both to know they inspired me to write a lot, for being the cool authors I aspire to be some day, and ofc, for being the firsts to see the fics as it is. I love you guys.
"𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴"
Bile rose in your throat once your heard the gun shots, praying to whatever God above for it to not be what you think it is.
But you saw his red clad body dropped onto the ground, confirming your worst fear.
"IZANA!" you shouted, running to your lover.
The commotion behind you faded into background noise when your focus zeroed to the boy in front of you, the boy who stole your heart and devotion.
"Nova. I'm sorry. My body just moved on its own." you just shooked your head, tears streaming down your face as Izana tried to explain. "No. Everything's alright. I- I'll call the ambulance right now! You'll be fine 'zana. You're going to be fine." you supplied, trying to convince yourself more than the other. Hands shaking trying to get a grip on your phone but it slipped out of your hands causing you to curse as you tried to get it back and dial the emergency number.
Quivering hand grasped your own.
"Hey Nova." you hummed to him not trusting your voice. "The moon is beautiful right?" Izana asked, smile on his face- fuck that goddamn smile of his, one that he would never ever showed anyone else.
"Y- yes, I wish I could watch it with you for good." you choked out a response, with sobs leaving your mouth. The hand that was holding yours dropped, along with the beat of its owner's heart, stilling into the silence. And you, barely hearing "I'm coming too Izana.", from Kakucho, sat still as realisation that he's gone, him the love of your life is gone for good trying to crawl itself into your brain. You came to your senses once you felt hands all over your body, urging you to stand up and leave the place as sirens filled the area.
"NO LEAVE ME ALONE! HE'S NOT DEAD! HE'S JUST SLEEPING! LET GO OF ME, MANJIRO!"
"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳"
The funeral passed by like fever dream. Toman members came by despite the fact that the funeral was one of their enemy's, murmuring condolences and back pats to you.
"Y/N, I know this might not be the right timing but please know that although we never talk much, you can come to me. Please do not hide yourself away." the owner of the voice, the boy Izana Kurokawa hated the most, snapped you out of your trance.
You didn't reply, only lifting your head up and meet Manjiro Sano's gaze, causing him to flinch at the empty look inside your eyes before casting your gaze back at the black frame in front you, the picture inside it, snow haired boy with wisteria coloured eyes taunting you with the his smile, frozen in time.
"The world is cruel" Izana once told you. You never get what he was implying but now you do.
"The world is cruel, but in this cruel world it I FOUND YOU, my light and I wouldn't have it any other way."
"𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦."
Dating Izana was never an easy task. He was so used to deep dark isolation and in his muddled mind, he could never make sense on to why you stick with him. On top of that, your safety always had been his top concern, the running doubts inside his mind if he's the best for you.
He never understands you, who's a sucker for romance, unrealistic happy endings, would always stick with him, the tyrant king of Yokohama. But he knows that you understands him, as much as he's perturbed by the fact. He knows that you understands how much he's scared to be abandoned again, he knows you will always welcomed him back with open arms, your understanding of his hesitations on relationships were the ones that made him depend on you, because you will never leave him, you promised.
"Why are we watching Disney princess movie again?" Izana sighed exaggeratingly throwing his hands up in the air. "They have the best romance!" you argued back. "Yeah but it's always ended happy ending. It's not like real life would be that way." Izana groaned. "BUT STILL!! It's a royal love story for you my king and even if it's all end in happy ending, it taught us 'bout love and how kingdom works! You should know that by now Izana."
"A kingdom isn't ruled by one, BUT TWO people."
"𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐'𝘮 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘖𝘒 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴"
Fights with him were always the worse. It will end with him disappearing for days, convinced you're just going to abandon him like everyone does at the end.
You proved him wrong every single damn time.
Your patience with him always caught him off guard. You showed him the love he never thought he'll ever experienced, gave him the home he can find shelter in.
In you, he learned what was unconditional love was all about.
"Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?" Kakucho said, gaining your attention. You faced him to show that he had your full attention. "How did you do it?" you blinked, not understanding the question. "What Kakucho trying to said is that, how did you stay with Izana still? If I were you, I would had given up trying to understand him.", Ran, who was beside Kakucho the whole time explained what Kakucho's question was.
The other executives trying to hide the fact that they're listening in but you can see their ears perking up. You chuckled at them before giving them the answer. "I actually find it funny that people always thought 'unconditional love' means unconditional tolerance towards your partner. Izana, as much as he would always disappear after our fights, I know he would come back. I might not immediately search for him, he needed the space, I'm giving him the space and boundaries he needed, as much as he think he didn't need it."
Unknown to you, Izana was right at the door behind you, listening in and signaling his executives to not mention his appearance. "Izana and I talked 'bout unconditional love before. You can love someone to the moon and back but still have boundaries. That's what I taught Izana."
"Boundaries DON'T DIMINISH the amount of love you have in your heart."
"𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯? 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦?"
The smell of him dominates the apartment you both shared as a home. Everywhere you glance, you see him. His untouched clothes in the wardrobe. Everything reminds you of him. The black sky filled with stars at night taunted you as the memories of both of your nightly sky watching on top of the apartment roof flooded back into your brain.
"Nova." you, who was laying down on Izana's lap, looked up to him, confusion and questions swirling inside in your eyes at the foreign name that came out of his mouth. "I'm gonna call you Nova as your nickname." Izana added. "Oh? Why is that?" you asked him curiously, sitting up and your eyes met as you can see the affection that ran deeply for you shone in his eyes.
He chucked and raised a hand to your face, tucking your loose strands of hair back behind your ear. "Nova means new star that came suddenly, exploding and influence the other. In a way, it reminds me of you. You came in barging into my life, shining like a star."
"Unlike the stars that died out quickly, you remained and SHOW ME THE LIGHT I've never seen before."
"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦."
The whisper on the streets of the fallen king. The pity glances. The story of a tyrant king. They don't know Izana like you do. They didn't see your late night dancing with him. They never hear his naggings of your unruly sleeping schedule. They would never see how both of you laughing and helping each other cooking in the kitchen.
"Shit!" you cursed as you accidentally sliced your finger by accident. "Nova? Love, what happened?", Izana who was taking a shower immediately rushed into the kitchen once he heard you cursed, bad scenarios running through his head. You, who was running your bloody finger through the water, spun around to look at Izana. "The knife slipped out of my grip." you supplied, still hissing from the sting.
"Awww, poor baby, come give me your finger." Izana teased as he took your finger in his palm to take a look at it before plopping it inside his mouth. "I-Izana!" you stuttered at his action before trying to push him away. Doing so, you just realised how he's only wearing a towel with water still dripping from his hair, fresh out of bath.
"Don't move love, I'm trying to help you right now. I'm taking the emergency box don't move." Izana chuckled before moving away and going to the living room where said emergency box is located. "Oh, did I mention your nose is bleeding too?" blood rushed towards your face as you immediately put your finger underneath your nose, hearing Izana's roaring laughter.
"What kind of King am I to let HIS QUEEN got hurt?"
"𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 '𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦', 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 '𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳'"
Placing the white baby's breaths on his grave, you whispered "Even if it takes ten years, this isn't "goodbye", this is simply "see you later".
©copyright 2022 by Sei. If you steal this work istg i will haunt you down to the end of the earth. You are not allowed to repost this on any platforms.
#[🐨sei.sfw! post]#izana x reader#izana x reader angst#izana angst#izana kurokawa x reader#kurokawa izana x reader#kurokawa izana x you#izana kurokawa x you#kurokawa izana angst#tokyo revengers angst#tokyo revengers x reader#Tokyo Revengers x you#[🐨📝sei.writes!]
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Fic Finder
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1. hi, mods and everyone, thanks for all the great recs and finds! i have a request for the fic finder, if that’s ok. it’s canon divergent, i guess? or maybe a canon au would be a better description. wwx is a man out of time. he’s frozen in the past, then is defrosted in the future (@ cloud recesses, pretty sure). in any case, it’s future!lwj who helps him recover and reintegrate. does this sound familiar to anyone? i’m kind of starting to think i either imagined it or took a plot i read in another fandom and imposed the mdzs charas on it lol. however this turns out, thank you all very much for your time and help
FOUND! Alexandria by LilyMaxwell (T, 23k, wangxian, scifi au, time travel, romance, fluff, hurt/comfort)
NOT FOUND! Do androids dream of Lan Wangji? by DizziDreams (T, 27k, wangxian, scifi au, everybody is a robot au, android WWX, android LWJ, minor violence)
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2. henlo! im looking for the fic were WWX was clueless that he was pregnant. its in modern era where he and LWJ was in some sort of fuck buddy relationship. then he just felt diff in months but never realize he was pregnant. he ended up giving birth in their apartment, and in a sequel it happened once again but instead he was already married.
FOUND? Blood, Google, and Love by Prairie_Grass (E, 4k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, ABO, getting together, mpreg, fluff & angst, semi graphic description of giving birth) and it’s inspired by fic Surprise Baby! by trulywicked (M, 10k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, ABO, established relationship, unplanned mpreg, accidental baby acquisation, birthing scene)
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3. Dear, wangxianficfinder. I am in need of your assistance. I seem to have lost the link to a series where Wangxian are both females, Lan Zhan is a CEO while Wei Ying is her secretary, and they were childhood friends. There are two main scenes that stick out: One where Lan Zhan threw down Jin Guangshan for groping Wei Ying in one story and Wei Ying getting her hand stuck in a vending machine in a another. Please wangxianficfinder collective, you're my only hope! I couldn't find it on my own! @kaitou-cure-prism12
FOUND! Beautiful mess, a colourful wreck by covalentbonds (Not rated, 12k, wangxian, rule 63, fluff & humor, mild smut, childhood friends, first meetings, evil vending machines)
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4. Hello wonderful mods of this blog, I have lost a fic I want to reread and I hope you can help me. All I can recall is the beginning of the fic where Wei Ying, Lan Zhan and A-Yuan travel back in time due to dying in the timeline before returning. Wei Ying due to the Stygian Tiger Seal, Lan Zhan to his whip marks and A-Yuan to a fever. Please help.
FOUND? Lan Yuan's War by BurningTea (G, 191k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Angst, Sick LWJ, Hurt/comfort, Eventual Happy Ending) iirc Lan Wangji and Yuan both time travel because of the whip marks and being sick, I haven't finished it so I don't if Wei Wuxian does too
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5. Hi! Thank you fr all your hard work! I need help finding a specific nsfw fic. do you happen to remember a smut fic where wangxian get schooled on gay sex by a male sex worker?
FOUND? Smoothing things over by Aki_no_hikari (E, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, case fic, married couple, anal sex, learning about lube)
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6. Hello! I hope I'm doing this right. I need help finding a fic where Sizhui told his friends that his dads didn't love each other. He discovered that wwx and lwj only got married to adopt him. It was a modern au, I'm almost sure. Thanks!
FOUND! Play your love songs all night long by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf and tardigradeschool (E, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Marriage of Convenience, Mutual Pining, Light angst, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings)
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7. Good day/eve mods!! For the next fic finder I'm looking for a fic in where JC and NHS were like 'how dare JGS bad mouth WWX' so they set up this plan where NHS pretended to offend JC. Which caused JC to 'accidentally' kick JGS down the stairs and then everyone proceeded to laugh at him. Hope ya guys are having a great day! ~
FOUND? A little help (can go a long way) by syriala (G, 5k, JC & NHS & JZX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Sworn brothers, Hurt/comfort, Humor)
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8. hello mods! thx for all ur hard work xx I've been tryna find a fic where everyone travels back in time but only the ones who died remember their memories? they hold a discussion conference and wrh is there and at first the jiangs think wwx doesn't remember but it turns out he was just pretending and during the conference WRH suggests an arranged marriage between WQ and WWX
FOUND! Second Chances by YumichanHamano (T, 76k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, those who died remember, WWX centric)
not FOUND sounds a little like The Wild Geese's Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, wangxian, time travel fix-it), but there wasn't an arranged marriage.
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9. Hiii! I can’t remember the name of this wangxian fic but it was after the fall of lotus pier, essentially JC choked WWX to near death and I think LZ helped call his spirit back. It was a hurt/comfort that I can’t find anymore.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME FIND IT ( ू•⌄• ू )✧ @ramenchan
not FOUND the river brought you here by chilianxianzi? (Not Rated, 11k, Wangy,. Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Happy Ending, Recovery, Last abuse, Strangulation) it doesnt quite fit the description but could it be 'the river brought you here' by chilianxianzi?
FOUND! a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 65k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Heavy Angst, Self-Worth issues, Amputation, Situational Mutism, Slow burn, Angst with a happy ending) It's fits most of the description except it wasn't a near death choke, and it's not exactly hurt/comfort?/ i would call it hurt with v little comfort, but there is a scene where lwj talks to wifi using inquiry, and because wifi is so close to death from jwy choking him, it works
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10. Hello! I hope it isnt to much but I'd like some help in finding a fic. It was canon divergence with wwx was successfully escaping lwj at mo village and settled at an in(?). I remember that it that it the anniversary of the d3@th of the yllz. Lwj came to his inn/tavern bcs he wanted to buy alcohol in memory of it and wwx introduced himself as mo xuanyu and i think there was a reveal of sizhui being ayuan. Thank you <3.
FOUND? all i want is nothing more (than to hear you knocking at my door) by jojkees (G, 4k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Getting together, Happy Ending)
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11. Hey I’ve been looking for this fix for a while and wanted the give it one more try before giving up. I don’t remember much but I think the Jiang sect were able to shift into dragons, wei wuxian gave birth during the fall of lotus pier and gave his baby to madam Yu to escape with. I also remember that wei wuxian was a Phoenix shifter that saved the sect disciples. I would really appreciate if this is found 👏🏻😭
FOUND! Changes by Duochanfan (Not Rated, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Shapeshifters AU, Baby LSZ, Mpreg, Angst with a happy ending, Good Madam Yu)
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12. Hello! I would like to ask for help in finding a fic. I've tried searching for it but I haven't had any luck (I'm beginning to wonder if it was deleted or if it was actually a Twitter thread instead 😭) basically wx are married but they're both so busy the "spark" is beginning to go out in their marriage. And then lwj gets a new coworker that reminds him so much of a younger wwx and on a business trip he ends up sleeping with him. This starts an affair and eventually wwx finds out that lwj has been cheating on him and is understandably heart broken. They go to couples therapy and work it out and lwj transfers jobs. It had a happy ending more or less and it wasn't that long I don't think and it was definitely complete. Any help in finding it would be appreciated!! Thank you!!
FOUND? Twitter fic by @giraffeter (CW: infidelity)
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13. Hello there! I’m looking for a modern au fic where WWX ended up “ghost marrying” LWJ, who was declared dead because JGY had him murdered. LWJ (barely) survives and ends up haunting the house because he’s angry and WWX helps him resolve the situation. There was a side of LXC/JGY, and I remember a scene where WWX was possessed(?) and playing music and it freaked everyone else out. I’m also 99% sure its a complete fic. Thank you for the help!
FOUND! lovers be lost (but love shall not) by la_muerta (T, 13k, wangxian, 1910s au, arranged marriage, ghost marriage, case fic, happy ending)
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14. Hi mods! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian raised a child (I think a-yuan?) and once they're a teenager, they realize that wx were never actually married and they get upset. I recall there being something about connected apartments. maybe that wangxian each had one, but bc their kid is graduating, they were gonna rearrange and give one of them to their kid. (There might've also been something about their kid's SO also moving in?) Tyvm everyone for the help!
FOUND? Ticking Away the Moments by airinshaw (E, 13k, wangxian, modern, kid fic, getting together, fluff, pining, minor LSZ/LJY)
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15. Hi mods! Hope you're having a lovely day! I was wondering if anyone knew the fic where a-yuan gets adopted by the rich lan fam, but keeps thinking of wwx who took care of him, so the lan fam starts a search/invites ppl over to their house. wwx arrives at the mansion(?) and offends some rich person or something and doesn't get let in, but meets lwj (I think) who asks him some questions about a-yuan. wwx meets a-yuan and eventually, I think lwj invites wwx to live with them and the wens encourage him to go too. Thank you!
FOUND? The sun'll come out Tomorrow by Cy_anne (T, 33k, WangXian, Modern AU, Annie Fusion/AU, Light Angst, Fluff, Mostly Gen, Good Uncle LQR, Happy ending)
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16. hii!! I heard there's new mod, welcome mod c! (Hi ^^ ~ Mod C) hope am not bothering you mods too much. so, do you know i u have encountered a fic were wangxian was childhood friends playing to be boyfriends but they weren’t actually one. (idk if it fits fake/pretend relationship tag, didn't found anything.) there was a moment in their teens (midschool ig) where a girl confessed her feelings to lwj and wwx immediately says lwj has bf and it's him. they were roommates, too. I think it was due to university of something like that. they were questioned by jc and nhs if they r real lovers or not. also, there was wedding (not 100% certain if it's jzx & jyl’s) wwx starts questioning himself if he was really inlove with lwj. reminder that they r not friends with benefits. they were just playing, holding hands or hugging e/o. I am not actually the person who was finding this fic but I am interested, til now, no one has found this fic. Thank you! @vdjixian
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17. Hello there, hope you're having a wonderful time where ever you are! This is for the next fic finder, I remember reading this fic about the Yiling villagers peeking in on the oh-so infamous Yiling patriarch whenever he bathes in the lake and this fixes everyone's perspective of him and saves him from his canonical demise. I want to revisit that fic again but I can't seem to find it. If anyone knows anything, that would be great thank you!!
FOUND! That Time Everyone Assumed the Yiling Patriarch was Ugly by tinitin (M, 4k, wangxian, canon divergence, inappropriate humor, crack, shamelessness, getting together)
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18. Hello! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian is engaged and madam yu tries to break their engagement bc she doesnt think wei ying will be happy with lan zhan? It was a one-shot iirc? Thank you! Hope the mods have a nice day!
FOUND! Still Waters by PorcupineGirl (G, 6k, wangxian, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, YZY pov, arranged marriage, protective YZY)
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19. Hello dear mods, and thank you for all that you do! I’m trying to remember the name of this fic and hope you can help me; iirc, it’s focused on the junior quartet and the ending involves them using some kind of time travel array to reach into the past and Sizhui catches WWX as he’s falling to his death? They were on a mountain that turns into a lake or something from the massive power drain of the array. Thank you! @bookkbaby
FOUND! Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not Rated, 46k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Family Feels, Junior Quartet)
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20. Hi:) Do you know a little fic, after Lan Zhan's punishment, where Xichen deliberates what to do with A-Yuan and how close to keep him and qiren outright says that his name will be Lan Yuan and a member of their family, because curently its the only reason Wangji wants to stay alive. There is a possibility that it has been deleted because I couldn't find it in my recs.... @krysaniar
FOUND? Ch. 5 of The Untamed Drabbles and Tiny Vignettes by Sally M (sallymn) (T, 2k, WangXian, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, 3 Sentence Fiction, 3 Sentence Ficathon, Not all are ficathon entries, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Undeath, character death but they deserve it)
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#mdzs#wangxian#the untamed#wangxianficfinder#wangxian fic search#wangxian fic recs#wangxian fic finder#long post
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