#there's no way she could have purposely done that“
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astonmartinii · 18 hours ago
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i will always love you | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem bodyguard reader
what he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his bodyguard? this IS a rom com
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
f1insider
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liked by user1, user2 and 45.925 others
f1insider: red bull have confirmed that max verstappen will have a bodyguard for the rest of this season after increasingly aggressive fan activity towards drivers at races. what do you think about it?
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user3: i completely understand that it’s insane that it’s gotten to the point where he needs a bodyguard ��. but like JEALOUS
user4: i pray there’s never any need for her to do her actual job
user5: f1 need to sort it out i agree
user4: i meant because i would be no better than a man im sorry god but i want to watch her fight someone 😫
user6: this should’ve been done so long ago but i’m glad they’ve finally made the step
user7: what i find crazy is that people can afford a paddock pass and wanna fight the drivers ??? what a waste of money GIVE THEM TO ME
user8: i’m being completely serious when i say … any punk ass influencer tries to film max in the bathroom i want this bodyguard to shoot them with a gun
user9: no i agree
user10: and when i do it on purpose so she can beat the shit out of me ??
user11: choke
user12: she look familiar to any of you?
user13: i thought i had seen her before but like i just can’t quite recall
user14: swiftie here! she was taylor’s bodyguard for a couple years so you probably have seen her in paparazzi photos or something
user15: taylor swift and now max verstappen i need her agent
user16: the thought of that massive hunk of a man cowering behind her is killing me
user17: it’s killing you? it’s getting me excited this is so romance book coded
user18: you people’s obsession with putting people in “relationship” is the worst thing to happen to the sport
user19: i agree! (they would be unbelievably cute)
user20: i’m glad to see we’re all being very serious about the state of the sport where a driver needs a bodyguard and not the fact that said bodyguard is visually appealing
user21: sky i will deal with your bias if you give us the visual on her
user20: jesus wept
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 120,399 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: new job, same friendship bracelets
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user22: WE FOUND YOU
user23: hi mother !!!!
user24: we miss you serving face with taylor :(
maxverstappen1: you were a bodyguard for TAYLOR SWIFT ???
yourusername: you didn't read my CV? you had the last say on me being hired?
maxverstappen1: i let GP read them and he's never steered me wrong before
yourusername: that seems irresponsible
maxverstappen1: ANYWAY my point was going to be ... can we still get eras tour tickets?
yourusername: i can see what i can do
maxverstappen1: what if you just called taylor up?
yourusername: do NOT reference the kardashians if you want tickets
maxverstappen1: noted :3
user25: i can't have anything in this life ??? what do you mean you've worked with taylor and max?
user26: she looks so hot with a gun i'm starting to think the NRA are on to something
yourusername: absolutely not get out of here with that shit
user27: oh she educated as well? will you accept my hand in marriage?
maxverstappen1: 🤨
landonorris: and if i said you could guard me all night
yourusername: it's kinda my job to guard max all night
landonorris: but you'd rather guard me 😉
yourusername: i doubt you'd pay me as well as max
landonorris: i can pay you other ways 😉
maxverstappen1: lando i will break your fingers one by one
user28: max is out here like SHE IS MY BODYGUARD
user29: him being possessive... idk where to look but both of them - mark me scared AND horny
user30: TOO REAL
maxverstappen1
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liked by schecoperez, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,452,099 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: simply lovely to be back on the top step in brazil, @yourusername you're clearly my lucky charm
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user31: max does a generational drive and immediately gets on instagram to flirt with his bodyguard
user32: he's so real for that because look at y/n
user33: i once thought swifties were crazy for being so obsessed with her but now i am just as bad lol
yourusername: nuh uh that drive was all you big boy
maxverstappen1: heheheehehe
maxverstappen1: did i make a good first impression?
yourusername: a very good first impression ;)
maxverstappen1: are you proud of me?
yourusername: very proud maxy
maxverstappen1: :3 thank you <3
user34: what in praise kink did i just read?
user35: i know he's done it in a very public forum but just leave them to do whatever they gotta do
user36: i know this man saw her in a suit and with a gun and fell to his knees
yourusername: well... close enough!
landonorris: idc about all of that ^^ i'm still going to shoot my shot
yourusername: is me rejecting you luck or talent?
landonorris: HUH ?????
yourusername: i may just be a bodyguard but i still have working ears 👍
user37: okay so she does serve more than just looks ...
user38: she's got a fan in me now
charles_leclerc: let me just sit back and observe
yourusername: you good?
charles_leclerc: i am sitting back and observing
yourusername: you are observing very loudly
charles_leclerc: i am just watching max embarrass himself, this is very healing for my younger self
maxverstappen1: RUDE
yourusername: he's not embarrassing himself if it's working?
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redbullracing
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liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 2,451,045 others
redbullracing: statement regarding today's incident.
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user42: sorry red bull but i want that video tattooed on my eye balls
user43: i am so unbelievably hot and bothered after seeing that video
user44: red bull i'm afraid you'll have to take that video out of my cold dead hands
landonorris: i didn't realise the paddock came with dinner and a show today
oscarpiastri: lando they tried to kill max...
landonorris: well he was never in any actual danger with y/n around
oscarpiastri: do you ever read the PR briefs?
landonorris: PR whats?
oscarpiastri: this is starting to make a whole lot of sense
user45: they'll try to cancel lando for this but like he's being real
user46: no because why was george russell and kimi antonelli literally in the back of the footage eating LITERAL POPCORN
user47: i've never wanted to be two people so bad
maxverstappen1: i lived bitch
yourusername: MAX????
maxverstappen1: because of you, i'm forever in debt to you <3
yourusername: just doing my job :)
maxverstappen1: so you didn't just do it because of your undying love for me :(
yourusername: i think that would be inappropriate
maxverstappen1: THAT'S NOT FAIR, THEY CAN'T TRY AND KILL ME AND YOU CAN'T SAY YOU HATE ME IN ONE DAY
yourusername: oh maxy, do you need a cup of tea
maxverstappen1: and a hug ????
yourusername: yes, even a hug
user48: oh to have max that pathetically down bad for you
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 2,309,773 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: can you people stop thirsting over my girlfriend please - i may not be able to fight but she can
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user49: HE HAD ENOUGH
user50: i mean i too think thirst comments from my literal friends would throw me over the edge
user51: he was like winning in brazil is not enough i gotta watch my gf beat the fuck out of someone and then publicly claim her
yourusername: you're puffing out your chest in the paddock when all the girls on the internet are thirsting over you - if anyone should be jealous it's me
maxverstappen1: but you're so much better than anyone else i am horrendously in love with you
yourusername: HORRENDOUSLY
maxverstappen1: i have never felt anything like this? im scared???
yourusername: no need to be scared baby i'm in for the long ride
yourusername: and i can and WILL protect you
maxverstappen1: i need to report a hostage situation? it's me in my bedroom - i need to be saved
yourusername: you're so cheesy, you're lucky i love you
user52: i have another hostage situation - it's me in this comment section
user53: watching them be in love is like torture to me i'm so lonely
user54: they need a trigger warning i fear
maxverstappen1: @landonorris @pierregasly @olliebearman suck on that
landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE
pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game
olliebearman: why did you say fuck me for ????
maxverstappen1: i've seen those looks ollie don't lie to me
yourusername: babe i think he might just be scared of me
olliebearman: WOMEN IN POSITIONS OF POWER SCARE ME I'M SO SORRY Y/N
yourusername: no worries ollie! max is just possessive
maxverstappen1: ugh duh! you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, obviously i want to keep you to myself
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yourusername
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liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen and 342,067 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: and iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii will always love you! sorry it had to be done - whitney houston is a LEGEND
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user56: of course she knows that song, she's basically living that story
user57: OF COURSE SHE KNOWS THAT SONG IT'S ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS SONGS EVER ???
yourusername: and you can bet your ass the red bull garage have been singing it non stop since i arrived
redbullracing: singing is our passion
maxverstappen1: they'd have to kill me to keep me from you DEADASS (pun intended)
yourusername: and that won't be happening because i'll be there to protect you
maxverstappen1: i'm not opposed to watching you deal with a problem in the paddock
landonorris:WHY WAS I MADE THE BAD PERSON WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO WATCH ???
maxverstappen1: because it was my life that an attempt was made on ?
landonorris: and?
maxverstappen1: AND?
landonorris: it would've made winning the championship much easier ?
yourusername: nuh uh i would jump into that red bull and win out of spite
maxverstappen1: it's true, i've been training her up
landonorris: you gonna let me have anything
maxverstappen1: nope :P
yourusername: nope :P
user58: oh they're so annoying 😭
user59: true ride or die couples are so irritating
user60: i still wish i was them
danielricciardo: i get fired and you get a girlfriend ??? how is this fair
maxverstappen1: idk what you want me to say, i'd never give y/n up for anything
danielricciardo: not even a red bull maxiel reunion
maxverstappen1: sorry buddy, maxiel is dead
danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME?
yourusername: sorry daniel, there's a new sheriff in town - should've charmed max when you had a chance
maxverstappen1: try as he might, he'd never be you
yourusername: awwwww considering your massive teenage crush on him... i love you!
danielricciardo: so fuck me then?
fin.
note: TWO IN ONE WEEKEND WHAT?
714 notes · View notes
seongwars · 3 days ago
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strangers by nature | i
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Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor & fluff in later chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.8K Warnings: angst no comfort, swearing, suggestive content, puppy!!!!
Fic Masterlist
a/n: here's the first part to the revamped mingi drabble series someone tell me to finish my other wips
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“Don’t fuck this up for me,” you hissed, slipping on your heels and casting a sharp look in his direction.
Mingi, lounging by the door with his tie half-done, didn’t even look up. He adjusted his cufflinks instead, his movements slow, deliberate, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You think I’m the one who’s going to mess this up?” he replied, his voice laced with mockery. 
“You’re lucky I’m even bothering to show up at all. God knows I could be elsewhere.”
“Did you forget that you sabotaged last year’s event when you showed up completely shitfaced?” 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you hissed, hoping no one would notice. Mingi just laughed, a bitter, mocking sound that rang louder than you’d intended to speak as you pulled him aside.
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he slurred, his words coming slow and thick, as if savoring each one. “But look at you, all dressed up like it matters.” 
His gaze raked over you, and for the first time, you felt small—like everything you’d done, everything you cared about, was nothing but a performance in his eyes.
Throughout the evening, he continued, unleashing a trail of subtle digs and outright insults, each one cutting deeper than the last. 
“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts,” he drawled. You felt the sting of the insult, a wave of humiliation creeping up as he smirked at your expression.
And as he went on, his words got uglier, accusations laced with venomous insinuations about your foundation, about the people you’d invited, about you. 
“You know what’s funny? This is all she has. She begged me to be here, begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”
It was the cruelty of it that made you flinch. He looked at you, pleased with himself, with that twisted smile that told you he had come tonight for one reason only: to break you down.
Mingi didn’t hate you. He didn’t even care enough to despise you. Hatred would have required him to feel something at all, but to Mingi, you were nothing more than an obligation, a piece of his life he had to endure when the occasion called for it. 
You had to exist in the same spaces as him, but only on his terms, only when he wanted to remind you how little you meant to him.
Mingi had taken so much from you already—had eroded every bit of independence and dignity you’d fought to hold onto. But the annual Gold Gala, hosted by your foundation, was different. It was one of the few things left that was still unmistakably yours.
The Cromer Foundation wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of teaching in, but it was something. It was your way of keeping that dream of becoming a music teacher alive. It was a way to support arts education, a way to pour hope and passion into the future. 
It was the only part of this new life you’d been forced into that felt like it had real purpose, the only place where you could still feel yourself making an impact, even if it meant facing Mingi’s ire every step of the way.
“I had to work my ass off,” you bit out, voice trembling with the strain of holding back everything you wanted to scream. 
“I had to clean up your mess to convince donors to continue supporting the foundation after you nearly destroyed it last time. This is the one thing I have left that actually matters to me.” 
The words were punctuated by the ache in your throat, your heart pounding as if it might burst from the sheer weight of your frustration.
“I’m not begging you to be there. I never asked for that. But I think we both know that neither of us wants to hear our families complaining about your belligerence, especially since I made concessions to let her be there.”
Your voice caught on the word, but you forced it out. He knew exactly who you meant—her, the woman he’d flaunted just enough to humiliate you but never enough for his family to call him out on it. 
Jeong Ahri. His first love, the girl who knew him before he became what he was now. She was also his best friend’s sister, the one woman who, even in her absence, always held a piece of him. Just the sound of her name was enough for him to lay his arms down. 
Mingi didn’t consider himself religious. He’d never felt the pull toward faith, despite his family’s insistence on portraying themselves as god-fearing, pious people. But the day his father announced that he was considering a merger, weighing options to secure their legacy through an alliance, Mingi prayed for the first time he could remember. 
But his father chose otherwise. Mingi hadn’t heard his father’s reasoning in detail—only the clipped statement that “it was decided” and that it would be you instead of Ahri. It wasn’t that she was lacking in education or accomplishments; her qualifications were impeccable. 
But you were different, his father had said. More refined. More…controlled.
Where Ahri was unpredictable, a free spirit with an uncontainable passion that Mingi had always adored, you were composed, you brought a stability that his father believed Ahri could never offer, and to him, that was paramount. It was a choice made for optics and security, the perfect union on paper, a marriage that would uphold the family’s reputation.
Now here he was, bound not to her, but to you—an arrangement forged by titles and alliances, with love considered an afterthought at best. This marriage wasn’t just a partnership but a meticulously crafted piece of his family’s foundation. 
And you—perhaps unwillingly, perhaps reluctantly—were the chosen piece in this carefully woven tapestry of alliances.
“How could I forget? We’re putting on a show, some picture-perfect life that everyone else could admire.” His gaze was sharp, unyielding. 
“Picture-perfect life?” You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. 
“Please. This is far from that. All I wanted was to make something meaningful out of this sham of a marriage, to salvage whatever was left of my life.”
“Meaningful?” he sneered, his eyes narrowing. 
"You think you're the only one making sacrifices?" he snapped, his voice low but venomous. 
"I lost any chance at a real life the moment I agreed to marry some pathetic charity case." The words dripped with contempt, his gaze locked onto yours as though daring you to react.
“Playing the victim as always,” you replied coldly, your gaze steady as you met Mingi’s glare. His jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark passing over his eyes, but you pressed on,  undeterred. 
"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”
That struck a nerve. Mingi’s expression twisted, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his armor. He scoffed, but there was no humor in it—just a bitter edge, sharp and unrestrained.
“You think I didn’t try? They didn’t care who I spent my time with as long as they got what they wanted—a merger, a legacy. So I went along with it. It wasn’t worth the battle when I already had Ahri.”
His words stung, sharper than you’d anticipated, cutting right through you. But as you stared at him, searching for any hint of regret, any flicker of hesitation, there was…nothing. Just the same cold, unfeeling expression that had worn down your patience over time.
“And here we are—both miserable because you took the easy way out,” you sighed. 
“All those sacrifices you keep talking about, all those things you supposedly gave up? They mean nothing if you can’t even own up to them. Including marrying the ‘charity case’ you despise so much.”
You saw his eyes harden, his shoulders tense, but you refused to back down, leaning into the truth you both knew but never spoke.
“You wanted a convenient life, and you got it. But don’t you dare try to make me the villain just because you couldn’t stand up to them—or to yourself.”
You held his gaze, a cold, bitter silence stretching between you. Without another word, you turned, steeling yourself for the night ahead, knowing that the only thing left between you was the hollow image of the life you failed to create.
Your wedding to Mingi was more of a business transaction than a celebration. The ceremony took place in an office that bore more resemblance to a boardroom than a place for vows. 
The only witnesses were your parents, your cousins Jongho and San, and Mingi’s best friend, Yunho. All were seated with neutral expressions, gazes locked on the officiant as if marking the completion of a financial report.
You barely remembered the words exchanged. There was no music, no flowers—just the murmured vows, the scratch of a pen signing your names, and the cold weight of a ring slipped onto your finger by a man who didn’t even meet your eyes. 
When it was over, the officiant closed the book with a finality that made your stomach drop—a reminder that there was no turning back now. Your parents offered restrained congratulations, their smiles polite but empty. 
Only your cousins seemed to look at you with genuine sympathy, understanding the weight of what you’d just committed to. Mingi’s mother, on the other hand, wore a sharp, proud smile, one devoid of joy but full of satisfaction. To her, this wasn’t a marriage; it was a completed transaction.
Following the ceremony, a small reception was held in the upstairs lounge. Glasses were raised, and toasts were made to "a prosperous future," though they felt painfully empty. 
Mingi barely spoke to you, instead engaging in brief, clipped conversations with his father and yours about the two families’ businesses and the outlook for the next quarter.
You sat in silence, barely tasting the champagne in your glass, as you watched the people around you discuss the "success" of this union. You wanted to scream, to tell them this wasn’t a union, just an arrangement—a legal binding that had stripped you of any choice you once had.
The room felt cold, and as you glanced at the man who was now your husband, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something lonely.
You had spent years nurturing a different dream—one that had nothing to do with boardrooms or mergers. You had wanted to teach music, to live a quiet, meaningful life, far from the shadows of your family’s empire. 
Drawn to the idea of leaving it all behind, you envisioned moving abroad to pass on your love for music to young, eager minds. The plan was simple: save enough, book a one-way ticket, and disappear into the life you wanted. 
But when you told your family about your plans, their reactions left you stunned. They couldn't see a future for you as a teacher—not when you were the heir to the Choi Group, not when your last name carried so much weight. 
You fought them on it, desperate to hold onto the life you wanted. Shouting matches stretched late into the night, but when arguments proved fruitless, desperation drove you to action. 
Just as you reached the final hurdle, minutes away from your flight, the authorities stopped you. Your heart dropped as you realized just how deep your parents' control ran—how their reach extended even across oceans you hadn't yet crossed.
By the time you both left the reception, it was clear there would be no honeymoon, no illusion of a romantic escape. Mingi went to his own car without a word, and you followed in your own to the penthouse, wondering how a marriage could feel like a prison on the very first day.
Crystal chandeliers cast their glow across the gala hall, the soft hum of conversation mingling with the gentle clink of champagne flutes. This event was one of the few things you could call your own—a charitable foundation you’d helped establish to support arts education. It wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of, but it was something—a way to keep that dream alive, even in the world you’d been forced into. 
You moved among the guests, offering a polished smile and gracious words about the foundation’s mission, with Mingi at your side, his arm draped around your waist as you made the rounds together.
To the crowd, you looked like the perfect couple—a united front. But you felt the coldness between you, the way Mingi’s hand barely touched your waist, how his gaze slid away from yours the moment anyone’s attention drifted.
The evening was moving along smoothly until you noticed her—the woman standing near the bar, her eyes fixed on Mingi. Dressed in a red gown, she radiated confidence, her gaze unflinching as she watched him. She was the shadow that trailed him, the one he turned to whenever he could no longer bear the weight of pretending with you.
Beside you, Mingi’s posture tensed almost imperceptibly, his hand lingering at the small of your back. He noticed her too, of course; he’d be a fool not to. Yet his grip on you remained firm, as if bound by an invisible script dictating the image you two were expected to maintain. Nothing amiss, nothing unseemly, as though the weight of her presence hadn’t shaken him at all.
To anyone who looked closely, the story between them was clear: her gaze was steady, defiant even, a silent reminder that she held a part of him you would never touch.
This was meant to be your night—the one place to grieve the shattered pieces of your own dreams, had you succeeded in escaping the clutches of this arrangement. 
But as you held yourself in place, the warmth of Mingi’s hand was nothing but a reminder that even when he stood at your side, his heart was somewhere else entirely.
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You returned to the penthouse alone, the buzz of the gala still ringing in your ears, though the evening itself felt hollow and cold now that you were by yourself. The laughter and polite applause, the countless exchanges of small talk and polished smiles—none of it seemed to matter. 
Mingi had left your side almost as soon as the event began winding down, disappearing into the night with the excuse of business matters to attend to. You didn’t need to ask; you already knew where he was headed and with whom.
You weren’t bothered by Mingi’s connection to Ahri. Sure, he brought her to the penthouse on your wedding night, but you understood that their story existed long before you ever came into the picture—a chapter of his life that, despite the complexities, didn’t take away from your own sense of self-worth or purpose in this arrangement.
The memory of that night still lingered. You had walked into the penthouse to find Ahri there, her laughter filling the space as she sat comfortably on the sofa, a glass of wine in hand. 
Mingi was by her side, his arm draped casually around her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns along her thigh. A soft smile played on his lips—a smile you didn’t know he was capable of, one that felt like a taunt.
And when you retired to your room, the primal sounds from the both of them escaped through the confines of Mingi’s bedroom. 
“Shit, just like that, right there, Mingi!”
“Fuuuuck, takin’ me so well.”
You knew they were both trying to hurt you, flaunting how intimate their relationship was in front of you, as if to remind you of your place. Their calculated cruelty seeped into your consciousness like poison, amplifying your insecurities and sowing seeds of self-doubt. 
Every laugh, every touch between them was a dagger to your heart, a reminder of the love and warmth you were denied. The pain was a constant, gnawing ache, leaving you feeling more alone and unworthy with each passing moment.
You had hoped, at the very least, that Mingi might see you as more than an obligation—perhaps even as an ally. Instead, you were nothing more than a prop in his life, a fixture he resented. If only he’d see you for who you really were—not the enemy in this tangled web, but someone who could make this shared fate a little less lonely.
You kicked off your heels, draped your coat over the back of the sofa, and sank down, staring out at the glittering city lights beyond the penthouse windows. Loneliness settled over you as you replayed the night’s events. 
Your gaze drifted to the piano in the corner. For a moment, you could almost see him there—Hongjoong, with his fingers drifting effortlessly over the keys as he coaxed a melody from the instrument. 
He had been the son of your piano teacher, your best friend, and your first love. You remembered the way he’d listened to your dreams, encouraging you to reach higher, even when you could see the exhaustion creeping into his features, the shadow of his terminal illness never far behind. 
“Would you still believe in me now?” you murmured to the empty room, the silence thickening with the question. You knew what Hongjoong would say. 
“Fuck it, sell your shares and leave. Start over. Eat the rich.”
He had shown you what passion looked like, not only for music but for life itself, even as he faced an uncertain future. He had given you strength and taught you resilience. The long afternoons spent together, his hands guiding yours over the piano keys, had been a sanctuary from the expectations and pressures of your family.
The silence in the room seemed to shift, becoming less oppressive, more contemplative. You could almost hear Hongjoong's voice, softer now, more encouraging. 
"You've got this," he would say. "Just take the first step."
You closed your eyes. Tomorrow would come with its demands and pretenses, but for now, you surrendered to the silence, letting it carry you into a sleep that softened the loneliness—if only for a little while.
Ahri’s laughter filled the confined space of the car, soft and unrestrained as she collapsed against Mingi’s chest, her fingers drawing idle patterns along his jawline. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, a playful daring that stirred something in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“Your wife looked like she wanted to kill me,” Ahri giggled. She knew exactly what she was to him—a temptation, a release, a break from the predictability of his life.
Mingi only smirked, his large hands cupping the curve of her ass with ease as he let out a low chuckle, brushing his thumb along her skin as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
“I would’ve stopped her,” he murmured, the words casual, devoid of any true weight.
Ahri tilted her head, her eyes searching his face, a smile curling at her lips. She could read the lack of hesitation in his expression, the cold confidence of a man who knew he was untouchable, who knew he had nothing to lose by being here with her. 
“You’d really do that for me?” she asked, her voice soft and playful, but she knew the answer. 
They both did. She didn’t need him to reassure her, didn’t need promises or apologies—she was here because she understood exactly who he was, what he wanted, and how little he cared about the impact it had on anyone else.
“Of course,” he said simply, brushing his lips against her neck with an easy familiarity. His smirk grew as he pulled her closer, rutting up against her with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
The idea of hurting you wasn’t something he dwelled on; it was merely collateral, an afterthought in a life where his own desires came first. 
To him, this wasn’t betrayal—it was freedom. Being with Ahri wasn’t about guilt or regret. It was about the thrill of defiance, the joy of stepping beyond the lines and indulging in the part of himself he’d never fully let go. 
“Let’s get out of here,” Mingi suggested, his voice low, laced with an eagerness that hinted at the thrill of escaping somewhere no one could find them.
The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between them as Mingi guided the car along the winding roads leading out of the city. The quiet hum of the engine settled between them, and Mingi’s grip on the wheel tightened as he let the night swallow them whole.
His gaze flickered to Ahri, watching the way she leaned back, eyes half-closed, utterly carefree. She was always like this with him—at ease, undemanding, dangerous in all the ways that made him forget everything else. With her, he could let go of every responsibility, every burden weighing him down. 
The soft, velvety vocals of jazz singer Kim Taehyung drifted through the radio, wrapping around the pair in a warm embrace. For a fleeting second, Mingi allowed himself to sink into the fantasy. Here, with her beside him, the world outside felt like a distant dream, nothing more than whispers beyond the car windows.
But dreams eventually come to an end. 
Out of nowhere, a pair of blinding headlights burst through the night, a harsh, unforgiving brightness that tore through the calm. Mingi’s eyes widened, but the oncoming vehicle was so close, so sudden, that there was barely a second to react. His hands jerked on the wheel, trying to swerve, but the road was narrow, and there was nowhere to go.
In an instant, everything blurred into chaos. The impact hit them head-on, a deafening crunch of metal against metal, a violent jolt that rattled through the car as it skidded off the road. Mingi’s head slammed back against the seat, his vision blurring as the car spun, skidding to a brutal stop against the guardrail. The world seemed to fall silent in the aftermath, a surreal quiet settling over them.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint wail of sirens approaching, growing louder with every passing second. As the darkness closed in, Mingi felt the weight of it all—the choices he’d made, the life he’d led, and the person waiting for him at home—weighing down on him, filling him with a regret he could no longer ignore.
It was after midnight when the phone rang, the sudden sound breaking the uneasy stillness of the penthouse. In your sleepy stupor, you hesitated for a moment before reaching for it, your heart pounding in your chest. A vague sense of dread built as you picked up the receiver upon seeing your mother-in-law’s contact photo.
“Y/N! Oh, thank goodness! Mingi—he’s in the hospital! He was in a terrible accident and is in critical condition. Your father-in-law and I are on our way now!”
Mingi. Critical condition. Hospital. The world seemed to tilt on its side, and you felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you struggling to breathe.
“Wh-what happened?” you stammered, barely able to get the words out as you clutched the phone, your knuckles white. “How… how bad is it?”
“It’s bad. They… they’re not sure if he’ll make it through the night.”
In that instant, any resentment or past grievances faded into the background. You couldn’t deny the strange ache settling in your chest as you thought of Mingi lying in that hospital bed, perhaps alone, facing something he could not fight or push away.
You didn’t remember much of the drive to the hospital. The city lights blurred past you as you sped through the streets, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out every other thought. All you could focus on was getting to him.
When you finally reached the emergency wing, the harsh, fluorescent lights made you feel even more out of place. You spotted his family first—his mother and father huddled together on the worn hospital chairs. 
Mrs. Song was barely holding it together, face streaked with tears as she leaned against her husband, clutching his hand so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs that she tried to stifle, but each gasp tore through the silence, raw and full of anguish.
It was odd, seeing her show so much emotion for her son when, for so many years, her presence in his life had been so distant. There was no trace of the stoic woman who had always seemed to keep the world at arm's length. Here in the unforgiving lights of the hospital, she looked like any mother, grieving, terrified of losing her son.
Your own parents were there too, solemn and tense as they stood a little to the side, offering whatever silent support they could. 
When your mother noticed you, her gaze softened, and she reached out, wrapping you in a brief, tight hug. Yet even in her embrace, there was a certain restraint, like she wasn’t sure how to give more, wasn’t sure how to bridge the space between you in a way that felt natural. 
But then you turned, and that’s when you saw him.
Through the window of the ICU room, Mingi lay on the hospital bed, looking nothing like the man you knew. He was pale, his face bruised and battered, his body still and weak beneath the sheets. Tubes and wires connected him to a series of machines, each beeping and whirring to keep him alive, monitoring his vitals after hours of surgery to stop the relentless bleeding.
It was a jarring sight, seeing someone usually so full of life, even if that life had often been directed at you in anger. Now he seemed so small, vulnerable, a shadow of the man who had once looked at you with such disdain. 
Despite all the bitterness, you couldn’t deny the weight settling heavily in your chest as you found yourself wishing he would open his eyes, even if it meant another one of his sharp, dismissive looks.
“H-Hey.” 
You whipped around to find Yunho. His shoulders were slouched, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes, and worry etched into his expression. He offered you a small, tired smile, a weak attempt at reassurance that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hi,” you murmured, tearing your eyes away from Mingi. 
The silence between you and Yunho was thick with unspoken concerns, a tension that felt almost palpable.
“I know things between you two have never been easy,” Yunho murmured, his voice low and hesitant. He avoided your gaze, eyes lingering on Mingi through the glass. His tone was careful, a mix of sympathy and regret. 
“I’m sorry that he’s been awful to you. My sister, too.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned. For so long, the hostility from both Mingi and Ahri had been an almost constant presence in your life, a simmering resentment that had shaped almost every single facet of your relationship with your husband.
But hearing Yunho acknowledge it so openly was…strange. Disarming, even. You weren’t used to someone seeing it, let alone speaking about it without any pretense or defensiveness. In his soft, understanding tone, you could sense not just sympathy, but regret.
“How’s Ahri?” you finally asked. 
“She’s pretty banged up,” he replied, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion evident. 
“But doctors say she’s expected to leave here in a few days. Nothing too serious, thankfully.” He hesitated, his eyes drifting back to Mingi. 
“But Mingi is still pretty touch-and-go.”
You could hear it in Yunho’s voice—the worry, the fear that his best friend might not make it. It was a stark reminder of just how fragile life was, how quickly things could change in the span of a heartbeat.
“He’s got so much fight in him,” you acknowledged softly, as if you were trying to convince yourself.
“If anyone can pull through this, it’s him. He just… he has to.”
Mingi’s presence, for all the ways it had complicated your life, was something you weren’t ready to lose. The ache in your chest betrayed the truth: you wanted him to fight, to come back, to have the chance to be more than the sum of his anger and bitterness.
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“Hey! Can you hear me?” A voice cut through the silence, clear and sharp. 
Mingi’s eyes fluttered open to an otherworldly darkness, pierced only by the eerie glow of dim, floating lanterns. He felt weightless, almost translucent, his last memory fragmented—the screech of tires, the blinding headlights, the sound of metal twisting. He tried to move, but his limbs felt disconnected from him, as if he were less a person and more a shadow drifting in an endless void.
“Where… where am I?” he whispered, his voice echoing through the vast emptiness.
A figure emerged from the darkness, wearing a calm, almost unsettling smile. Dressed in flowing black robes, the man stood before him, his gaze sharp and cat-like.
“My courtroom,” the man replied, his voice smooth but cold. “People know me as The Judge, but you can call me Wooyoung.” 
His eyes gleamed as he looked down at Mingi, as if he could see every mistake, every regret, every flaw carved into his very soul.
“I’m…I’m dead?”
Wooyoung tilted his head, his gaze unwavering, assessing Mingi as if he were little more than a curious object. 
“Not necessarily,” he replied, a slight, detached smile curving his lips. 
“At least, not until you plead your case.”
A chill ran through Mingi, spreading from the base of his spine up to his shoulders. He was no longer in the realm of the living, yet neither was he truly dead. This wasn’t a dream, nor was it a fleeting punishment. 
This was judgment.
“It seems you have unfinished business,” Wooyoung continued, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather. 
“Regrets. Mistakes. Wrongdoings that tether you to the life you left behind. And now, you will face them.”
“W-What…” Mingi stammered, struggling to find words, every attempt at forming a coherent thought falling apart under the man’s unrelenting stare. 
“What… unfinished business?”
Wooyoung’s expression twisted, a mix of disbelief and disdain crossing his face as he raised a brow. 
“Really?” he said, his tone heavy with incredulity. He let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head as if Mingi’s question had been the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in centuries. 
Wooyoung’s eyes gleamed as he summoned a scroll into his hand, the parchment unfurling with a dramatic flourish and rolling all the way down to the ground. An endless list of Mingi’s transgressions and misdeeds spilled forth, each offense scrawled in elaborate detail, stretching on as if it would never end.
“Selfish. Petulant. You’re the kind of person who only considers what you want, regardless of who gets hurt.” His voice grew sharper, each word landing like a blow. 
“You cheated on your wife without a second thought, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience in your life. And let’s not forget—” he tilted his head, a dark gleam in his eyes, “bullying other kids in middle school.”
Mingi felt the words hit him like a punch to the gut, dredging up memories he had buried long ago, things he’d justified or ignored. He shifted uncomfortably, every accusation pulling him deeper into his own shame.
“That… that was so long ago,” he whispered, barely audible. “I was a kid. I didn’t know any better.”
“Ah, so ignorance is your excuse?” Wooyoung’s tone was icy, unimpressed. 
Mingi swallowed, his mind flashing through a thousand faces, fragments of past encounters that blurred together but still left an unsettling weight in his chest. All the people he’d dismissed, manipulated, pushed aside. The friends he’d neglected, the promises he’d broken, and, above all, the way he had carelessly stomped on the one person who had also been innocent in this situation–you. 
“So how do I fix it? I—I don’t want to die. Please,” he choked, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at the man with pleading eyes. 
Wooyoung’s gaze didn’t soften, but there was a pause—a brief, quiet stillness that felt like a moment of reckoning. He tilted his head, studying Mingi as if weighing the depths of his fear, his regret, his desperation.
"Is that it, then? Now that you’re here, now that death is staring you in the face, now you want redemption? Not when you had the power to make different choices, not when the people who cared about you needed you to be better?”
Mingi swallowed hard, feeling the weight of each accusation sink into him. He could barely meet the man’s gaze, shame twisting in his stomach. 
“I made mistakes. I didn’t think…I thought I’d always have time to change, to make things right. But I can’t…I can’t end like this.” His voice broke, and he felt the desperation bubbling up, raw and unfiltered. 
“I’m begging you. Give me a chance. I’ll do anything.”
Wooyoung watched him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he took a step closer, his dark robes fluttering against the ground.
“Anything?”
“Anything,” Mingi whispered. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
Wooyoung’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “If you want to escape this fate, then you’ll have to complete three tasks within three months.”
Mingi’s heart pounded in his chest, but he nodded, his eyes shining with desperate determination. 
“I’ll do it. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Good.” 
With a single snap, Mingi felt his body contort, an overwhelming, suffocating pressure enveloping him. His form began to shrink and his vision blurred. A high-pitched yelp escaped his throat as he realized he was no longer human. 
He was small, helpless, wrapped in fur with tiny paws trembling beneath him. He had been transformed into a puppy, looking up at the man from the ground, his new form shivering in fear and confusion.
“You’re much cuter when you’re not hurling insults at people and lying through your teeth,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching out to poke Mingi’s snout. 
Indignation boiled in Mingi’s tiny chest, but he was powerless to do anything but stand there, his fur puffed out as he tried to look fierce while Wooyoung continued to pet him.
“First,” Wooyoung began, “you’re going to learn what it means to be vulnerable. Focus on letting go of control completely, and start with small acts. ” 
“For your second task,” he continued, “you’re going to help someone who’s hurt or lost. You have to figure out how to comfort them. You’ll need to offer genuine support, not just do what’s easiest for you.”
Mingi whimpered, his tiny body shivering, but Wooyoung didn’t give him a chance to protest.
“And finally,” Wooyoung said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “you’ll help someone find happiness. You’re going to show them kindness and bring them joy, with no expectation of getting anything in return. For someone as self-centered as you, that’ll be your most difficult challenge of all.”
With that, Wooyoung straightened, a mischievous glint in his eye. 
“Simple enough for you, little guy?” he chuckled, scratching behind Mingi’s soft, floppy ear. 
“Complete these tasks, and you can have your life back. It’s not so hard, right?”
Mingi looked up, wide-eyed and uncertain in his new, pint-sized form. The world felt so large and overwhelming now, every shadow looming like a mountain, every distant sound magnified. His tiny paws shuffled nervously, a soft whimper escaping him.
“But, hey, if you can’t handle it and end up staying here, at least you’ll be the cutest little thing in the afterlife. You’re so small, I could just carry you around in my pocket!”
Mingi huffed, his tail puffing up in what he hoped was indignation. The thought was absurd! He couldn't decide whether to feel insulted or embarrassed, but Wooyoung’s warm smile and the affectionate scritch behind his ear made it hard to stay mad.
You sighed and sat down on a bench, the quiet stillness of the early morning hours settling around you. Mingi’s mother hadn’t let you leave, insisting that you stay for any updates on his condition. It was easier to wait outside, where the air felt fresher and the weight of worry wasn’t as suffocating.
Two years. Had it really been two years? You leaned back against the bench, staring up at the faint dawn light peeking through the trees. You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. Mingi’s bitterness had been a slow, creeping poison. He blamed you for the engagement, even though it was hardly your choice, and his resentment seeped into every corner of your life.
Every conversation was strained, every look filled with contempt, and yet here you were, waiting outside a hospital, a dutiful spouse in name alone. 
The weight of your commitment felt heavier now that he was teetering on the edge of life and death. The responsibilities and promises you had made to each other took on a new, almost suffocating significance. It wasn't just about keeping up appearances anymore—it was about being there, truly being there, when it mattered most.
You sighed, the sound mingling with the faint rustling from the bushes nearby, pulling you momentarily from your reverie.
From the corner of your eye, a small white puppy emerged, its fur dirty and matted with leaves. The tiny creature padded forward, nose twitching as it sniffed the air and hesitated as it spotted you. Something about its curiosity struck a chord in you, melting the heaviness in your chest just a little.
“Puppy!” you gasped, crouching down and holding out your hand. 
Mingi’s ears perked up at your voice, and he took a tentative step forward. 
You appeared more exhausted than usual, the shadows under your eyes more pronounced, and a weariness etched into your features that he hadn't noticed previously. There was a fragility about you that tugged at something deep within him, a vulnerability you rarely allowed to show.
But the way you whispered, with that soft, delighted tone and the way your face lit up when you saw him—it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
Without thinking, his little tail started wagging, betraying him completely. He could feel his new puppy body responding instinctively, unable to stop the joyful swishing, even though part of him knew how ridiculous he must look.
“Why are you by yourself?” you asked, wiggling your fingers in front of him. 
Mingi watched, trying to resist the urge to play, but then—damn it—he couldn’t help himself. Before he knew it, he’d pounced forward, his tiny paws reaching for your hand, teeth closing softly around your fingers in a playful nibble.
No, stop it, Mingi! He cursed, attempting to restrain himself from giving into his instincts. But he couldn’t. The look on your face, the warmth in your eyes, was worth the humiliation of his tiny, floppy form and the impulse to play like he actually enjoyed it.
He flopped onto his back, revealing his soft, fluffy belly, earning an immediate squeal of joy. The sight of his tiny paws tucked adorably close to his chest and his big puppy eyes was simply too much.
The sheer cuteness of the puppy version of him was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but scratch his belly. His hind leg kicked instinctively, a sign of his enjoyment.
Mingi let out a soft, high-pitched whimper, as you scooped him into your arms. This is…nice? And when your hand ran gently down his back, he melted further, his tiny body going limp as he nuzzled into your chest. His heart thrummed with a fluttering feeling he didn’t recognize. 
Why does this actually feel good? 
You didn’t have that look of quiet disappointment that had seemed to settle on your face since the day you both said, “I do.”
You just looked…happy.
For the first time, Mingi realized how little he’d truly known you. It hurt to realize that a tiny puppy—his current form—could make you feel more affection than he ever had when he was human. He hadn’t given you any reason to smile at him like this; he hadn’t even tried.
“I guess the universe is exchanging my husband for you, huh?” you mumbled, stroking his tiny head with your thumb.
Mingi bristled internally. How rude! He was irreplaceable. You couldn’t simply replace him with a puppy!
You stood up, carefully bundling him against your chest to shield him from the chill of dawn. 
He wondered if he would ever feel this again once he returned to his original self, or if he would only carry the ache of what he could have had—if he’d been a different person, if he’d ever let you in.
ii >>
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a/n: I have a taglist signup to keep things organized! feel free to fill it out for any fics that I'm currently working on! also this first chapter will be the longest and future chapters will be shorter
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Forgotten friends
So I read a lot of ancient Y/N cookie stuff because why not and I decided to make my own. Bear in mind that this is a work of pure imagination and judgment will not be tolerated.
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Long ago, You were baked along with 5 other cookies, an immense power created within you by the witches. You were all created to the purpose of protecting earthbread and providing guidance to those who resided within it. Knowledge, Volition, Change, Happiness, Solitude and Patience. All created for a great purpose.
Alas, great power always begets corruption. You watched as how your friends will crumbled onto their own strength one by one. You wished you had seen it sooner. Wish you had taken notice of their behavior changing and shifting into corruption. You wish you could've done something sooner. But you couldn't.
You felt... foolish, to put it kindly. All the signs had been there. More cases of injured cookies, more homes being destroyed out of nowhere, the constant plea from the cookies to be protected. But every time you asked who had hurt them, they never replied. You should've realized it sooner. What other cookies had powers strong enough to wipe an entire village out of existence and only leave ashes, flour, jam and crumbs as it's remains?
Regardless of not having seen it sooner, you knew something had to be done. You had to intervene, make them come back to their senses somehow. But every time you got the courage to even walk to their quarters, you never entered. You were scared of what your friends had become, a lot more than you would've liked to admit. Besides, there were five of them and one of you. Even if they haven't crumbled you already, they're still capable of doing it.
With little to no options left you were forced to seek out the help and guidance of the witches. Fortunately for you, they had already come up with a solution. The unfortunate part?
The solution was to seal them away.
You were unsure how to take in this information. Part of you wanted to plead and beg that they find another way. But the other part knew this was the only way to protect earthbread. With a heavy heart you agreed to lure your fallen friends into a trap. Did you like it? No, of course not. They were your friends. But did you have a choice? Also no. It was for the sake of earthbread.
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"Are we there yet?" Shadow milk cookie asked, though it came out as more of a whine. You were leading them to the agreed spot where they'd be sealed, having promised them that you wanted to show them something.
"Patience, Milk. We'll be there soon." You said, followed by a soft chuckle. Though you knew that was only to hide your dread. Here you were, leading your friends into a trap, and all you could do was try to divert any suspicion by acting like everything was ok when in reality it wasn't. "We've been walking FOREVER! How far must we go to see this thing?" Burning Spice cookie complained. You had to fight hard to suppress that deep sigh gathering in your lungs. If this experience wasn't already dreadful enough, they had been complaining time and time again how long it was taking and you gradually grew annoyed of them. "Look, not my fault you don't have any wings to just fly there. We all could've been there ages ago if SOMEONE wasn't a wingless pepper, don't attack me!" You retorted. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again you snapped something else.
"And don't even THINK about bringing up Silent Salt cookie. I know he doesn't have wings but at least he ain't complaining!" Though you're not sure if it's cuz he won't or if he can't. Either way, Burning spice cookie let out a grumble of annoyance before keeping quiet.
"Hey can we-" Eternal Sugar cookie let out a long yawn as she stretched out like a cat before snuggling back into her soft pink clouds. "Can we like, take a break or somethin'? We've been walking for ages..."
"Your feet haven't even touched the ground since we left!"
"Mmmh, too much work."
Another deep sigh you forced to not surface out brew up in your lungs again. You hadn't realized what pricks your friends had become. They used to be so nice. Now they're just... Annoying. Though you can't really say you were surprised, seeing as they corrupted in general.
"Applying pressure on Y/N cookie is futile. Our journey will on prove to be more insufferable and longer if we continue to be uncooperative." You heard Mystic flour cookies dull voice say.At least SOMEONE wasn't breathing down you neck. You also couldn't help but realize that the only thing that seemed to be different about her was the fact that her voice held no annoyance in it.
Heck, it practically held no emotion in general. Regardless you found her more tolerable in this moment then the other three. It kind of stung though, knowing she along with the others were following you so willingly to their own demise. But it had to be done.
Finally, you made it to the spot. You told them to stand in specific spots, which they complied with. As you got out of the way, you looked over at them all. You felt your smile falter and your heart began to ache. So you were really doing this, huh? You didn't want this. Not at all. But you had to do this. Once you felt the witches about to begin you let out a shaky sigh.
"Forgive me... I never wanted this..." you said softly, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Before they could react you watched five forks come down and imprison your friends, much to your displeasure and their shock. You turned away, unable to watch further. You tuned out their cries for your help. And without looking back, you walked away, your head hung low in shame and pain.
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You hid yourself away and watched how the world around you changed. You now concealed your souljam as a pendant on your clothes and you concealed your identity. In fact, you changed it completely. You wondered for many days and night if your forgotten friends would ever forgive you.
Maybe... just maybe... with a lot of patience. Even if they did, nothing anyone said was gonna ever allow you to forgive yourself. Not even the light of patience would allow it.
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therandompagesblog · 3 days ago
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SKZ Mate Chapter 24
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Trigger warnings: Angst, murder, blood, assault, violence, *bring tissues*
A week went by and Y/N didn't speak to Chan. A week went by and Chan had left to meet his friend. A week went by and Hyunjin and Y/N worked on options to use their dark aura to stop Ateez. A week went by and the wolves were divided. Seungmin and Felix sided with Y/N believing her experience of living there would help them solve this problem, but the rest of them chose Minho, the annoying ridiculous beta who acted like the head alpha. It pissed her off the way he was taking charge. She couldn't stand to stay in the same room as him, despite Jisung trying to comfort and reason with her. Jisung did see Y/N's side, but it was Minho's stubbornness and his politics that made him difficult to challenge. Minho was an elder wolf. Now what that means was he was above all wolves. He was the law of that council. Minho had spent years training at the werewolf sanctuary to become an elder. He spent years learning the skills and crafts of one. Minho had the power to connect with his ancestors and others. That is why Minho had high self-esteem and confidence. His biggest weakness is not being an alpha but his rapport with the werewolf community gave him that power, so when someone disrespected him, he became agitated, especially when someone he cared about disrespected him.
Y/N and Minho had been clashing all week. It started with ignoring him and purposely leaving the room when he was there. Then it escalated when Jisung said she was being mean causing him to get shouted at, which lead to Minho trying to discipline her but the same remark of 'you're not a fucking alpha's came out. Chan had even alpha commanded her to apologise which led to her ignoring him. But today the omega had high opinions as she stood there in the living room arguing with Jeongin while Changbin and Jisung sat there behind pillows with a mixed look. Changbin was shitting himself in fear but his fear resulted in him laughing while Jisung was amused. Jisung was curious to see how the new alpha would handle the situation and he was handling it quite well. Jeongin stood there with a stoic face watching the omega shout profanities at him, knowing the beta was next door listening. None of them knew what was going on anymore but all they knew was she was upset but her words were becoming spiteful. "So what he's a fucking elder. He should know how to listen to people and understand all options." Y/N yelled at the alpha. "Y/N. Listen to me." Jeongin called out in a commanding tone. He was getting frustrated. He understood her anger and fear. He understood her projection was coming from her inner trauma and he allowed her to express that but insulting the other wolves he wasn't going to tolerate it, especially a wolf who worked day and night to save her, the least she could do was be grateful. Jeongin tried to reason with her, but she wasn't having it and he could feel his anger start to bubble inside of him. "Y/N. If you-" "Like you know anything. You're just a baby alpha who thinks-" "Go. Upstairs. Now. I don't want to hear your pathetic little whines." Jeongin alpha ordered, his eyes glowing red as he looked at her. His actions caused her to shudder. His words bled deep into her veins, forcing her up the stairs. On the way she saw Minho sat on the floor in the kitchen crying. His body jolted with every breath as he tried to stifle his cries. What have I done? "Y/N!" Jeongin shouted causing her to run up the stairs and straight into her room, her eyes glowing blue as she tried to calm herself down. I made him cry. It was all falling apart left right and center. Minho was a sobbing mess in the kitchen as he heard her hurtful words. They cut him deeper than he expected. He was listening to her. He had spent hours pleading with the council. He even disrespected another alpha on the council for her. Minho didn't understand why it wasn't enough for her, he felt sick. Jeongin was livid and kicked the back door open so he could phase. He hated the power it gave when he ordered her. He felt like a monster. 
While all this was going on, Chan had met up with his friend Jaebeom who helped him before when things went bad. Chan wanted to create a plan with him so he went to meet him in the woods, but something was wrong. The more Chan walked deeper into the woods to meet Jaebeom, the more he felt something was off. Chan felt incredibly uncertain about stepping on this side of the woods. He knew Jaebeom but he hadn't actually spoken to him since he was seventeen. "I'm surprised you came alone. You're not a smart alpha, are you? Christopher." A dark voice stood behind him, taunting him. The male laughed at him, well, more like cackled at the alpha like a madman. "Hongjoong," Chan whispered. His heart dropped as he heard the voice. "Come on Chan, let's talk like alphas." Hongjoong taunted. Chan slowly turned around to see Hongjoong standing there with his arms crossed with three other wolves. An alpha, a beta and an omega. He guessed the alpha was Wooyoung, but the other beta he wasn't sure of. He didn't recognise this beta, nor the omega. Chan couldn't believe Hongjoong brought an omega with him. Did he expect the omega to fight? Chan couldn't fight an omega. No, he couldn't. Y/N adored those omegas. They set her free. They helped her escape. He couldn't take one of them out.
Hongjoong watched Chan's eyes study his wolves. He was calculating them. "Come on Christopher. There's no point in sniffing my boys out. I can introduce you if you'd like. This is Wooyoung, Mingi and Jongho. Seonghwa is hiding in the woods somewhere so if you run, he will attack." Hongjoong laughed. "What do you want Hongjoong," Chan asked, his eyes glowing red. "To kill you, obviously. " Hongjoong stated. "Did you really think that I would let you win after everything you have done to my pack? You had me exiled. You stole my alpha. Then you stole my omega and then had my beta killed. I had to let you think you had a chance with those council members. I will say your Minho made a great case against me. Trying to use maleficium against me. He's a smart wolf but not smart enough to realise my father is on that council too. How humiliating. I hope he's not too gutted about it." "She is not your omega. She never was." Chan growled stepping forward. "No, she wasn't." Hongjoong stepped forward, "but Joshua helped me get her." "What?! You're lying." Chan growled as he looked at the mad werewolf who laughed. Hongjoong in the midst of laughing signalled Mingi to attack.
Mingi was quick on his feet and grabbed Chan who took the blow, but he was quick on his feet. Chan managed to disarm him for a brief second but lost when Jongho phased and scratched the back of Chan bringing him down. Chan could smell the fear of the omega who didn't want to appear in the fight but acted on command. Chan pushed the omega off of him when Mingi shifted and pinned Chan down in his human form, biting in his shoulder, ready to rip his arm off when Chan phased into his grey wolf. He allowed his wolf to take over as he attacked Mingi, biting and snarling at him. Jongho pounced and dug his teeth into the grey wolf's tale, almost snapping it off, but he stopped. The blood of Chan fell out of his mouth and he panicked, but the shouts of his alpha forced him to fight and destroy. Chan managed to break free from Mingi and shoved Jongho into the tree, before heading towards Mingi. Chan got hold of his back leg and ripped it off carelessly. Chan didn't care. He needed to get back home to his omega.
As soon as he made the mistake of thinking about her, he felt a white-hot pain pierce through his leg. Wooyoung had phased and tackled the head alpha, dragging him by his tail before shoving him into the tree. Chan whimpered but tried to get back up but the two wolves attacked him. Chan managed to lock his jaw onto the beta's neck to snap his neck. Killing him. Wooyoung raged in anger at the death of his pack mate and charged forward snarling in rage as he tried to get the omega to help him, but Jongho couldn't get up. The omega was petrified. Chan used this against Wooyoung and pounced on him, biting into his leg and dragging the wolf harshly. Wooyoung tried to call out to Hongjoong but the alpha stood there in frustration as he watched Chan destroy them one by one. "Alright. Stop this." Hongjoong yelled. He needed Wooyoung. "I won't kill you. Go to that fucking whore. You can have. She's been used quite well, but I will say this, don't trust Hyunjin near her. Hyunjin is obsessed with her."
Chan didn't care but took his chance to retreat running as fast as he could back home. Chan didn't care about the pain in his body or the blood, he wanted to go home. He wanted his pack. He wanted her. Nothing else mattered, but Chan was struggling to continue. His vision was starting to blur as he ran, occasionally stumbling over. Chan got up again and kept pushing himself until he could reach his home or at least the clear, but he couldn't, his legs caved out and he fell to the ground, crying. He couldn't make it back. He couldn't go on any longer. I'm sorry Y/N.
Taglist for the iconic readers:
@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim
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cyb-by-lang · 2 days ago
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Cascade
Someone a while ago asked me about what Kei's school life in Shell Game would've been like if she was a kid in 1-A as opposed to 1-C, so here's some noodlin'.
(Kei replaces Mineta's slot because I don't feel like dealing with him.)
The facet of being a UA student that bothered Kei the most (immediately) was the scrutiny. The celebrity. The total inability to fold herself and her flat expression and sleep deprivation back into the comforting anonymity of a world without widespread cell phone usage. Every other rando in Japan—arguably the world—knew the school’s reputation and its uniform. The more invested enthusiasts knew the names and faces of all the hero kids in each year and ranked them based on their apparent promise. Kei’s entire being retreated from the spotlight as though possessed by a cockroach. 
The runner-up of annoyances was being trapped in high school again. She’d done her time one life ago and resented that the experience just pigeonholed her into bilingual missions now. But explaining that to Sensei wasn’t on the table, so away she went. 
In the end, though, there was a small silver lining, as thin as cobweb. Unlike general education students, the two heroics-focused classes had occasional permission to use their Quirks to achieve their goals. Such as winning a sports contest between students, but still. It was something. 
“Gekkō. Your turn.” 
Kei jolted back to life like the engine of a forty-year-old car, covering her mouth with one hand as she yawned. Sure, Bakugō’s big boom ball throw had startled her awake, but she’d slept like total garbage last night. The stress from anticipating a new development in any mission made staying asleep an impossibility. 
So she’d kind of sleepwalked through the first few rounds of fitness tests. A lot of the other students’ Quirks didn’t help with their performances—exemplified by the invisible girl and the boy with electric powers—and so Kei didn’t meaningfully stand out. It helped that the students with physical Quirks usually really excelled at very specific tasks, but were dead average elsewhere. Kei barely needed to work to keep in the middle of the pack, only using her water manipulation for effect. 
And now everyone was looking at her. 
Dammit, Kei thought. She rolled to her feet with a little huff and made her way off the sideline with the air of a two-toed sloth dragged out for a quirky sports movie. 
“Do you need a reminder of what the rules are?” Aizawa asked, his voice as dead as Kei sort of wished she could be in this exact moment. 
“No, Aizawa-sensei,” Kei replied as she passed him. An instant later, she caught the tracker-equipped softball without looking, thought it had been thrown at her head. Not like it would have done any damage even if it made contact.
“Then quit wasting our time.” 
Kei didn’t even remember her placement during the UA entrance exam, but this still felt targeted. The numbers didn’t matter. She’d already known she was in, so the only consideration left was keeping the extent of her powers under wraps.  
It wasn’t like Kei didn’t get why Aizawa “Eraserhead” Shōta hated her presence in the class. Her enrollment in UA was basically anathema to the entire purpose of the program. Sensei and the principal couldn’t just cut the guy entirely out of the loop without causing Kei logistical problems when it came to doing her job. At the very least, an uninformed teacher might ask questions when Kei inevitably ran out of the classroom to deal with some crisis. Just because Aizawa looked like he wouldn’t care if his students fell down an open manhole cover, but that was the trouble with judging by appearances alone. 
I could take over the moment it leaves your hands.
Be my guest. 
Kei tossed the ball in the air, clapped her hands together, and summoned a blob of water that expanded in sync with her hands as she pulled them apart. When the falling softball landed amid the watermelon-sized sphere, it warped briefly into an image of Isobu’s curled-up shell before stabilizing. That was a telltale sign even to people without worthwhile chakra detection abilities—as long as they knew. 
So, basically Aizawa. Kei didn’t need to look in his direction to feel his glare.
There we are. Isobu’s power reached forward to engulf the brand new source of ammunition. 
Then the blob, the captive softball, and some simulacrum of Kei’s dreams shot off into the void. Only the thinnest possible thread of water connected Isobu’s new toy to Kei’s index fingers. Kei and the a couple of her classmates watched its erratic balloon-like course until, inevitably, the thread snapped. 
Eventually, there was a beep from Aizawa’s phone. “Five hundred and fifteen meters.” 
Kei rubbed at her eyes, already done with the entire affair. At least this data might be useful for Kei and Isobu’s future adventures in mass hydrokinesis. Perhaps Isobu’s range would be even larger if they added more of his chakra. Running those experiments would have to wait for another day, though. 
“Next,” said Aizawa. Going by the way a couple of students jumped, the next contestant was already on deck and suffering from stage fright. 
Kei wandered out of the chalk with barely any uptick in energy levels. She even yawned again. If the teacher wanted her out of the way faster, he could damn well throw her out.
But because this mission clearly wanted to establish the kind of pattern embodied by a combat deployment—boredom followed by intense spikes of activity, and then more boredom—Kei didn’t get a chance to nap. She found herself blinking away the drowsiness to the sound of Aizawa verbally ripping a kid to shreds. 
And it wasn’t Kei’s fault. Or even related to her. 
Novel.
While Kei had sat down and read brief profiles on all of her classmates on the Saturday before the term started, their names occasionally slipped her mind despite how painfully on-the-nose they could be. She’d get that data into her head later; for now, all Kei needed was a list of powers. 
Part of the reason Midoriya (today’s sacrifice) stuck out to her was how his name didn’t contain even a hint of his Quirk—just like hers didn’t. Because she didn’t have one. Going off the logic displayed by his classmates’ parents and their naming choices, Midoriya’s personal name should have had something to do with turning his own skeleton into dust. 
With his capture weapon and hair floating like the entire scene was underwater, Aizawa laid out everything wrong with the nervous kid’s approach to the ball toss. Given that the test in question was literally throwing a softball and this kid tended to hover around the middle of the pack, maybe he’d been planning to use his hyper-destructive Quirk to finally get an edge. Like any kid sitting through someone else getting shouted at by a teacher, Kei pretended not to hear the specifics.
It was still sort of difficult not to, even with her classmates trying to build a small reservoir of side chatter to insulate themselves.
There was a lot in Aizawa’s lecture about “basic competence” and paraphrased warnings about not breaking all the bones in his body. Because, well, someone who did that would probably need to be carried off a battlefield on a stretcher if not in a body bag.
“With your power,” Aizawa was saying, his voice as flat and cold as an executioner’s blade, “you can’t become a hero.” 
Midoriya’s expression said he knew damn well what was at stake now. If he couldn’t figure out how to throw a ball without laying himself out flat, he was screwed. 
The real question was if breaking bones was the prerequisite to accessing that monstrous strength, or just a shitty side effect of having no control? If it was the former, the first time the kid fell off a jungle gym or crashed his bike should have made the news along with a crater. 
While the other students consulted among themselves whether they’d ever heard of Eraserhead before—which disengaged Kei even further from the conversation in favor of naptime—Aizawa withdrew from the chalk circle to let Midoriya figure his shit out. He’d either fly or fucking die. 
Aizawa probably didn’t care which. At least, not out loud. Better that this catastrophic failure happened in school and not in the field with lives on the line.
Kei shaded her eyes and awaited some conclusive result.
Midoriya didn’t disappoint; one colossal BANG later, the softball was rocketing off into the distance with a smoke trail marking its trajectory. But unlike the utter travesty that characterized his entrance exam footage, the kid that turned to face the group did so with all limbs intact. He’d destroyed only one finger in the process of setting off his Quirk this time.
Kei frowned while the other students cheered. Aizawa, too, looked excited to find improvement so close on the heels of his first sharp criticism. 
Sure, Blasty McSplode had a problem with Midoriya’s (qualified and still bone-breaky) success and then needed to be wrestled into submission for being a loud jackass literally a foot in front of the teacher, but that wasn’t Kei’s problem. Or, at least, his attitude wasn’t an interesting problem for Kei to puzzle over. 
Midoriya’s, though… There’s something wrong here.
Hm?
I don’t think his Quirk requires him to destroy himself to use it. If it did, he should’ve figured out how to minimize the damage way before he got here. Kei pressed her curled fingers against her lower lip as she thought. Damn, I usually just shrug off questions like this… 
But this secret may affect your risk assessment process when dealing with all of these humans. 
Maybe. But hell if it’s not a personal question. “Hey, what’s the deal with your Quirk totally pulverizing your vulnerable teenage skeleton every time I’ve seen it used?” That’ll go over well. 
“Gekkō,” said Aizawa, interrupting Kei’s thoughts with more school nonsense. He’d apparently picked her out as a zoned-out straggler. “Finish your tests. Side-hops and grip test, go.”
Kei sighed internally and trotted off to a different part of the field.
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wrenkenstein · 3 days ago
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OC creation musings + Juno retrospective
I was rewatching this video by Rea, and it struck me that this exact phenomenon happened to me in 2022, with the first inklings of Juno's design - back when I couldn't decide on whether or not her name would be "Juno" or "Kite", and desperately trying not to make her a scientist. She's obviously come such a long way since then, having now become a very well-known character in the fandom, but I often think of the fact that had she not become on of my artistic passions, I probably wouldn't be anywhere near where I am today.
Juno is absolutely everything to me. She is a representative of my passion for storytelling, and she connected me with so many of my now closest friends - one of which is currently living in my house! How crazy is that, man! All of which I can attribute to simply becoming so fixated on my own OC that I couldn't stop thinking about her, or drawing her.
Of course, that's come with some highs and lows. She's getting a professionally done cosplay, a 3D model and potentially a Battlefront mod - but she also has her own dedicated group of haters who think she represents the 'wrongs' of fandom, lol. I certainly have recieved my fair share of 'Juno hate' in my 3-4 years here, but the positivity and support make it well worth dealing with a few rotten apples. It's radiant and outpouring, like a warm ray of sun, and it keeps me going deep into the night.
Anyways. Total tangent. Want to see all her design iterations? Yea you do ;) Here's the first ever Juno ref!
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I made this on my phone in 2022, at the tale end of watching TCW and back when TBB was just one season. You can definitely see that the idea was always there, just a bit disjointed in its application. That gas mask on her helmet ended up causing a lot of confusion, so I removed it in later iterations - but to this day, I think this one picture is what really captivated me. Something about the aura, man,, she scary lookin
Then, of course, I had to draw what her face would look like - if it hadn't been for a RP, I don't think I would have.
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Woah - she's like a whole different person! And you can see the beginnings of her white hair streak, though back then, I wanted i to be really subtle. And I was soooo adamant about this lol. She also was almost beat for beat Ellen Ripley, and you can see me paint over a picture of Sigourney below with her OG faceclaim haha.
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Then we have the Juno-ing... part two. Where I went darker!! Both in themes, and in her color scheme. This one still has so much personality, and I remember being obsessed with how I drew her eyes and face back then. Nowadays, I think it's hideous. xD This was also around the time I was phasing out her gauntlets and oxygen mask, but both still remained for practicality purposes, even if they didn't serve anything to the design. Oh, and the hair streak. Now it's a Thing :tm: but it isn't really flowing well with the design - not yet, anyways!
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We finally get to a point where I, begrudingly, accept the fact that her white streak is going to be her facial focal point - and at this point I'm laughing about how much I tried to avoid it LOL. But here, we also see her get more and more refined. Her face is still a bit wonky, but the stern vibe and posture are starting to come together and tell more of a concrete story, even if the reference doesn't have as much color or personality as the last one. I also did this one for my senior year of college!
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I even designed her some totally BS civvies - and I gave her a s2 paint job, which admittedly looks hideous LMAOOO but we ball regardless. The second design was scrapped anyways almost immediately. The civvies stayed!
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And then, of course, THE FINALE! Her face went through so many iterations with her current ref, but thus far, it's been the longest standing and most accurate one. It atually started out just as me goofing off with a marker pen in CSP, that quickly changed to "hey... this could be something good." And I was right! This is the Juno that's currently circulating today, and I've been polishing and refining her as I go, since I still feel as though I could perfect things.
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And then, of course, her various outfits, which I posted about a while back. Oh - and have you seen Baby Juno?
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Well now you have. :)
I think it's so cool to see how someone can fixate on a character and pour so much love and thought into them, that this character becomes their entire brand. Juno inhabits every part of my brain space and is what I think about 24/7. I'm so proud of how far she comes, and she reminds me about how incredible fandom can be and continues to be! Something about her is just so intoxicating to me. I can't get enough of her, and I can't wait to keep developing her over the years to come.
Which then begs the question - what is your equivalent to this entire thread? Do you have an OC like Juno, who you're fixated on and who dominates your creative pursuits? Do they have multiple artistic iterations? Because if you do, share them!! I WANNA SEEEEEE.
Anyways, that's Wren's Ramblings for today ~ I got bored haha
SHARE YOUR OCS!!!! >:0
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discordiansamba · 3 days ago
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still thinking about the bad end variant of the lee from the tea shop au and just. it's been years since the gaang met lee for the first time. he might not have gone on an adventure to save the world with them, but he's become their friend all the same during the time they've known him. his tea shop is a safe haven in ba sing se, away from their duties. away from all the political intrigue.
then katara sees his scar, and it turns everything on its head.
katara's so shocked that she doesn't say anything to him in the moment- and no one else saw it. lee's wife literally just gave birth. she holds it in desperately, until it's finally time to go. toph immediately demands to know what's got her heart racing like an ostrich-horse, so she tells them.
lee's scar looks exactly like zuko's.
it clicks when she says it. that's why lee has always felt faintly familiar. he's zuko. she wants to be angry. did he hide his identity from them on purpose? but he's so... different. it's been over twenty years since they saw zuko last, but he couldn't have possibly changed that much during that time, could he? she can't imagine the prince zuko she knew settling down and peacefully running a tea shop.
something's not right.
they pour over the dai li's records. sokka's the one who finds the logbook in code. it's accompanied by several others, but the dates in this one match up to after the fall of ba sing se. sokka spends a few days just decoding the logbook, before he carefully transcribes it into a separate volume. he doesn't get very far before he has to stop, hurling out the contents of his lunch into a bucket.
katara's right. lee is zuko. or he was.
sokka decodes the entire thing in one day. he doesn't want to have stop and come back to it later. everything in it is awful. tui and la- he didn't even like zuko, but he doesn't deserve this. to be rewritten into a completely new person, with new memories and a new personality? it's horrifying. it makes sokka's skin crawl. the way the person keeping the records writes about it is even worse.
the bulk of the logbook is from the four years after the fall of ba sing se. after that, it was only ever updated periodically- small updates. the last entry before the drop off simply says that the brainwashing is no longer simply permanent- it is self-sustaining. the subject's brain is now inventing its own answers to questions he asks about their past- answers which were not provided for him. the alteration is now complete.
i have good reason to believe it is irreversible, it says.
once he's done, sokka shoves the transcribed version on the others, and lets them deal with it. he collapses in bed- and it's only exhaustion that lets him sleep. when he wakes up, he just has to take one look at everyone's face to know they've read it- and told toph about the contents, judging from her equally green look.
zuko wasn't their friend.
lee is.
...how can they possibly face him now that they know the truth?
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melmedarda · 18 hours ago
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i agree with your theory re: mel’s armor. it’s definitely something that activates when she’s in danger because we see that occur again while she was giving the speech (there’s a similar glow that is reminiscent of the glow in s1 finale). you might be on to something with your idea that it may be suppressing her powers. you mentioned that it could be ambessa protecting mel from herself. i’d like to add to that and suggest that maybe her memories were altered after she was given the armor? this could be one of the many twisted methods ambessa used to protect her daughter.
my mind went to altered memories largely because mel is not the kind of person to be unaware of her skills and limitations. noxians also don’t appear to have the same discomfort with magic that the piltovians have. one would think that mel would be aware and then proceed to hide the armor because of where she lives. but she doesn’t. it’s on full display all the time. if she knew what it was, she would’ve taken great care to hide it and, honestly, i think it would’ve affected her reaction to the second assassination attempt. mel’s reaction to the memorial attack and the kidnapping is one of someone who is unable to defend themselves. at no point does she engage in self-defense (which honestly surprised me, because one would think that a child of ambessa would know how to fight)
going back to my first point, it’s hard to believe mel would have the gold on her body and not know what it is nor what it’s capable of without some sort of alteration to her thoughts. the power within her could be related to kindred, and the black rose might try to "activate" it through some scary means. (maybe mel’s armor was taken from them 👀)
Hello darling! Firstly, if Ambessa ever brainwashed her daughter..... wow. Idk I feel like that's just something you don't come back from. But if so, then perhaps when Mel's magic awakens, she will Remember, and realize what her mother has done.
Way to read my mind!!! I was talking to a friend about the fact I expected Mel to be able to fight and defend herself, especially as a child of Ambessa. I assumed she was trained in the art of killing, but my friend made a good point that perhaps it is her Choice, not to defend herself. Not to use violence like her mother does. Which, is so, is interesting to consider.
I don't think she would have to hide her armor though, if she Knew what it was, because wealthy Piltovans have a lot of gold jewelry and augments, so she could treat it as something of a status symbol and no one would be the wiser.
Something that I found intriguing was that the armor is still on her body. I thought it might be a one time use, but no. After the bombing it was still on her back. Additionally, why did it not activate with the attempt at the memorial, or when the Black Rose took her? *shakes Arcane writers* How does it work???? My hope it that, just like they should Ambessa's schemes, they'll go back and show how Mel and Jayce survived the bombing.
I LOVE the idea of Mel's armor being taken from the Black Rose. It would make sense for them to hunt the magically capable for their own purposes, but then again, Amara was a Black Rose witch, and the armor would have been recognizable to her, right? I'm not sure, but thankfully, we still have two acts left for the writers to give us answers!!!
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garciaasfluffypen · 21 hours ago
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take care of me (like i take care of you) pt. 3
pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: SURPRISE i finished part three and wanted to post it so i could get this cross posted to ao3 hehe. its time to talk(tm) about everything that happened! y/n's rejection sensitive dysphoria episode is a prominent aspect of this part. poor emily doesn't really know what to do except comfort her girlfriends, jj has some issues she's working through, y/n feels absolutely horrible about everything that conspired
after everything that had happened in the past two hours, you were drained. you barely made it to the bedroom before bursting out into tears. this was it. this was the big kablooey. jj hated you now, there was no doubt about it. considering the way she reacted when you had let the term slip past your lips… you never should have done it. you pushed too hard, and this was the end. you’d have to change your name and move to timbuktu so nobody could find you ever again and you’d never be able to embarrass yourself in front of jj and emily anymore. the harsh what did you just call me? reverberated through your mind as you let the sobs take over your body, practically doubling over with the sheer force of guilt. you couldn’t believe yourself. how could you let it get that bad? it hadn’t even been three months and you already fucked up. but that was just it, wasn’t it? the three month curse you were stuck with. nothing romantic ever lasted past three months. it was only time that this one ended, giving you a chance to reset and find something new. your exes were right, you were never good enough. you always did something wrong. it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, and you needed to expect the worst. 
peeling off the clothes you had worn to the zoo, you blindly felt in what had been dubbed your drawer for your jammies. you had gotten the shirt from an online store and it was the perfect shirt for when you were having bad days or sensory overloads. and a bonus, it was long enough to cover your butt and go halfway down your thighs. you had gotten it big on purpose, and you were glad you did. once you felt the fabric, you pulled it on and stumbled back to the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest as you continued to try and calm yourself down. logically, you knew you were over reacting, but the fact you were tired mixed with the immense guilt you felt for making jj feel bad… everything piled up and you found yourself trying not to spiral more than you already had. 
the door opened and a figure stood there for a second before coming over and pulling you into the biggest hug they could muster. after a second, the scent of emily flew through your senses and slowly but surely you started to calm down as you curled into her arms. 
“oh, lovey…” 
this was one of the downsides to how bad your adhd and rejection sensitive dysphoria was- when you cried, you cried hard. you had gotten good at bottling up your feelings into a little corner of your mind that barely got touched unless you had a whole weekend carved out to mope around. those weekends were far and few between these days, seeing as the budget increase the bau got gave them more opportunities to take cases. it wasn’t too bad, until this happened and you cried so hard you felt like you might throw up. 
you curled into emily’s chest, barely registering the door opening. a red eyed jj stood in the doorframe, hands wringing together as she looked for you. jj looked worse for wear, emily noted. the last time she had seen jj like this was when they were at the fertility doctor earlier in the year, when they talked about the possibility of emily carrying a viable pregnancy. but that wasn’t anything they could talk about right now. the puffiness around her eyes was evident, tear marks showing where she had piled on concealer earlier that morning. she sniffled, gaining your attention. your head perked up and you felt your heart drop when you saw how upset jj was. wordlessly, you shifted on the bed to make room for jj, letting her crawl in, curling herself up between the gap you had created. she wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight as she could as a single tear fell down her face. you wiped it away with the pad of your thumb, shooting her a small smile. 
“i’m sorry i reacted that way, baby.” 
her words were muffled into the palm of your hand, her breath dancing across your skin as you put your cheek on top of your head. your logical thinking skills slowly started to poke through the barriers your rejection sensitive dysphoria always put up during these moments, the realization that it also upset jj hitting you like a ton of bricks. you hated seeing her so upset, especially when you knew you caused some of the upset. granted, everything was still so new and you all were getting used to the idea of the three of you being together, but it still hurt you more than you could ever put into words. 
“no, it’s my fault.” you started. “i pushed you too hard. i should have asked before assuming i could just call you mommy and get away with it. do you…?” you trailed off, hoping that jj knew what you were trying to ask.  
“i’m not sure how i feel about the use of mommy.” jj said, quieter than normal. “it didn’t make me feel… i didn’t like it.” 
emily raised her eyebrow, slightly shocked that jj didn’t give you the full truth. while she knew what seemingly the true reason jj didn’t like being called mommy, she knew that it would be something she revealed to you in due time. hell, jj was still figuring it out herself. the dislike of the feminine terms was something that had started within the past year and a half. yes, jj was very feminine presenting and loved dressing up when given the opportunity, yet she had begun to start hating when she was perceived in a feminine matter. it was an interesting late life dilemma to have, and she wasn’t sure how to go about it. she had been so secure in her identity for years, and to start questioning everything? it had started to send jj into a spiral of thoughts she frankly wasn’t ready to think about yet.
the only other person who knew about her dilemma was tara. it had come out one night while the two were having wine after a long case and emily was stuck at the office filling out more paperwork than intended due to her having shot the unsub. the two of them were a bottle and a half deep into pinot gritiot, and jj had blurted out “do you ever just… not want to feel like a girl?” and now here they were, with emily being the second person to know that jj had started to despise the feminine terms of endearment she had been taught to love growing up. it scared her. but not as much as the thought of you thinking you lost her. 
“emmy?” you looked to emily. “do you like being called mommy? because for some reason it felt very natural and i don’t know why.” 
“we can toy around with it.” emily squeezed your hand. “thank you for asking.” 
“i’m sorry i was super bratty earlier, too. i let it go too far.”
“i thought it was hot, actually,” jj started to blush. “i do think we need to play around with different dynamics and what we’re okay and not okay with. nothing has to be set in stone, but if i’m being honest… it was…”
“i liked it when you got all controlling.” you finished jj’s thought. “i really did.” 
“would you want to play around with that more? me being more… in charge sometimes?” 
you nodded. “i’d like that. because i like listening to emmy but…” 
“it’s very easy for you to listen to me, i know.” emily smirked. “and it’s very endearing.”
“is that something you’re okay with?” you looked over to emily. 
“if you’re comfortable with it, then yes.” 
“color system applies to everything we try.” jj stated. “any time, you can tell us to stop and we will. or call yellow and we can talk it out. and it applies to you, too. if there’s anything that we don’t like, we’ll tell you.” 
you nodded. “is there anything else that i’ve done? have i made either of you uncomfortable?” 
emily couldn’t help but clock the nervous look in your eye, seeing the fidgeting start in her peripheral vision. it was sad for her, seeing you like this. she hated when you got sad. you felt certain emotions more than others, and when you did feel them they hit you like a ton of bricks. emily most likely would never know how that truly felt, but she could only imagine the thoughts flowing around in your mind that would make you feel less than. she couldn’t control herself, searching your eyes for any emotion other than guilt. it pained you knowing that you thought you were the reason the conversation was happening. she wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you that it was not your fault and would most likely never be your fault, but she knew that would be counter productive. the three of you were all adults, you could talk about it like adults. 
jj on the other hand, felt horrible. her reaction was the reason you felt as if you were the reason the problem persisted. guilt plagued her as she stared at you, her hand coming up to gently brush back some of the strands that had fallen from your braid. she knew her own insecurities were the reason everything was going the way it was, and the main reason the three of you were sat here in various stages of emotional distress, but it was something she knew taking the blame for would just make you feel worse. she didn’t fully understand how your brain always made you think that you were the problem, but it was something you had been fighting for years. even penelope couldn’t get it through your brain that nothing was ever your fault. and that was saying something, since you and penelope had been friends for ten years leading up to when you joined the bau. both emily and jj knew it would take a while to get past the walls you had put up, but they didn’t realize how tough it would be. but it was a fight they were going to get through together, no matter what it meant. 
“nothing you’ve done could make us uncomfortable, y/n.” jj’s voice softened. “i know this is new, and it’s making you react in ways that you normally wouldn’t react, right?” 
you nodded. “i’m trying to be better, promise. i guess i just want to be taken care of?” you questioned. “but i have a hard time accepting it. like… i just want someone to take care of me like i take care of you. i’m just… i’m getting used to it.”
“is that why you were pushing today?” jj looked at you. “because you wanted to feel taken care of?” 
you sheepishly nodded. “a little bit. i liked it when you told me we were leaving and got all bossy.” 
jj smiled. “i can do that more. do you want to have a certain phrase or word to let me know when you want it?” 
“um… maybe like… a shoulder tap to start? i don’t want to say anything out loud, especially if it happens in front of the team.” 
“how about three taps left shoulder?” you nodded, a small smile forming on your face. “and if there’s anything we do when we’re out that you don’t like?” 
“i’m not sure of that one yet.” you swallowed. “i’m sorry we didn’t have this conversation earlier. we could have avoided this.” 
“lovey, having these conversations is one of the things we need to do to ensure we’re all happy. we can’t necessarily schedule them.”
“i still feel guilty." you sniffled. “i made jj feel bad.”  
“oh baby,” jj pulled you back closer to her as the guilt washed over you again. “i’m not mad at you at all. if anything, i over reacted to that. i promise you i’m not mad. i’m not mad at all.” 
“you promise?”
“i promise.” jj placed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “i’m sorry i made you feel like you hurt me.” 
“i’m sorry i didn’t ask you if i could call you mommy and made you upset.” you looked down at your hands, which were fidgeting with your shirt. 
jj lifted your chin up with her finger. “hey hey, none of that now. no more feeling bad.” 
you chuckled. “okay. i’ll try.” 
“how about i draw us a bath?” emily smiled at the two of you. “with the epsom salt for your sore muscles?” 
“that sounds really nice.” you smiled. “can we light the candle i like too?” 
“vanilla swirl or the one that smells like disney?” 
you pursed your lips, thinking. “the one that smells like disney.” 
“i’ll go grab it.” emily placed a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better?”
“a little bit.” you nodded. “i’ll be better soon.” 
“good.” she squeezed your hand. “i’ll go get everything and let you know when the bath is ready.” 
emily slipped out of the bed and went to go get your candle, leaving you and jj sitting on the bed together. she placed her forehead against yours, her hand going to cup your cheek as you sat in the silence. 
“i-”
“if you say i’m sorry i’m pushing you off this bed.” 
you chuckled lightly. “i do feel bad.”
“and i’m telling you that you don’t have to. promise. every relationship is going to have it's issues. we’re just able to talk them out because we’re adults.” 
“yeah, you’re right.” you put your head in the crook of jj’s shoulder. “thank you for not being mad.” 
jj smiled. “thank you for listening and not freaking out when i told you i didn’t like it.” 
“i mean i freaked out a little bit.” 
“but not a lot.” jj chuckled. “you’re adorable.” 
“you are too. like, a lot.” 
you snuggled into jj’s arms, curling into her side. it made you feel a lot better knowing that she wasn’t super mad at you like you thought. while you still felt guilty for making her feel bad, it made you feel better knowing that jj didn’t think of you any differently. 
and that she still deeply cared about you. 
taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen
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sketchyartthings · 1 day ago
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While I was drawing/looking at reference images, I realized that the king doesn’t look like he was killed by anything void related at all. His eyes don’t drip with void like every other character killed by overexposure to void in game, so what happened? What if he sealed himself away not to save himself, but to preserve the kingsoul? I mean, if I wanted to preserve an important object within me, I would think the dream realm would be a very suitable place to go. Evidently, the king hasn’t survived this, but it doesn’t look like there was a struggle. There was no evidence of the formation of a void creature in the room to have killed him the old fashion way, and no injury on the body itself. Nothing but a force of nature like the knight was ever going to get in or out of that room past all of those saw blades, and based on that, I don’t think the king planned on leaving that room. It looks to me that the king simply let himself wither away on his throne, and that he did it on purpose. The king was by no means a fool. He did not assume that locking himself in a room forever would be safe, and even if he did, he would’ve done more to solve his problems. The king had no workshop for him to toil in, no library to research from, and there was no effort made to stop the infection after he resigned himself to that room. The king was not there to save his kingdom in safety, and he was most certainly not there because he wanted to outlast the infection. The king wanted to die somewhere that was near impossible to reach. Somewhere in a near impregnable dream behind a nigh unwalkable path. But I don’t think that’s because he didn’t want to be found. After all, the king has tried tasking his children with a near impossible task in the hopes one will rise to meet the challenge before, and it worked. If we trust The White Lady’s perspective, The Hollow Knight was the perfect vessel before it was “tainted by an idea instilled,” so the idea that the king trusted the strength of his children enough to predict, or at the very least hope that one of them would reach the king would despite these measures, is not out of the question. In fact, the increased security of a task like this would make sense as a more intense test of the purity of a vessel. If the parkour skills needed to define THK as hollow were as simple as escaping the abyss, then the saw blades could certainly be explained as either a revised test of a vessel’s purity, or its will. Maybe the king predicted the creation of the void heart? If the vessel’s will is being tested, it would support the idea that the king knew about the possibility of the void heart, as it unites the void behind the bearer’s will. If this is true, then it may explain why The White Lady gives you the white fragment with the following quote. “I have a gift, held long for one of your kind. When united, great power is granted, and on the path ahead, great power it shall need.” This is most definitely referring to the unification of the king soul, but what if it were also a thematic parallel to the great power granted with the unification of the void? If this is the case, I don’t believe that the white lady was informed about all of the details, but likely just that a vessel was needed to end the infection, and that she must give the white fragment to a vessel she deems worthy. To ask the last question about this theory I could think of, why is the corpse of the king in a room dark with what is likely void if void is not what killed him? It could be deduced that the king’s regrets’ darkening of the room was meant to be a more subtle nod to his disposition at the time of his death than a hint as to what killed him, as the void tears found on those killed by void serve that purpose well and wouldn’t have impeded his design, but a darker room alone would be an interesting thematic note as evidence of a nagging question in the king’s head: “Have we payed a cost this great for nothing?” Anyways. Call me a deranged lunatic in the notes.
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ladyravenjadethe2nd · 3 days ago
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Hisoka's sexual interests are both better and worse then we thought.
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A lot of people are caught up in oh he draws the line at bestiality, but not pedophilia, but I think we need to focus on the fact that Hisoka is straight up calling fighting to the death sex.
No foreplay, not build up that makes him horny, fighting and killing someone is the definition of sex to Hisoka and that changes everything.
First of all if his end goal is to murder someone and not do anything with anyone's genitals then while he may get hard over it or even off to it we would not consider him having sex with that person by fighting them to the death.
By our definition of sex Hisoka is not a pedo because he doesn't want to actually do anything we consider sexual to kids or possibly anyone else. I want you to think about that for a min. If fighting plus killing equals sex for him he might have no interest in real sex at all. The most horny dude on the planet might not actually be down to literally fuck anyone strong that moves.
He could not even get off to it and just enjoy being horny and not letting himself cum. This fucking clown man could actually be super chaste by common meaning of the word sex. Virginity is not impossible. Let that sink in.
Even if he does cum if I came whenever I shake someone's hand they didn't have sex with me when I shook their hand. That's a me problem. If it happens when I shake a kid's hand that's weird and gross and horrifying, but I don't think that's sexual assault? Although if it was done on purpose it may be something else? Hell of a weird thing to think about. I don't know what you would call it.
So for someone that has been certain from the beginning that Hisoka cannonly wanted to stick his dick into little boys this is pretty mind blowing, but....but the thing is.
Hisoka does think he's a pedo.
If fighting a strong animal to the death is bestiality for him and fighting lots of people to the death at once is an orgy then fighting a child to the death is pedophilia by his own definition.
Assuming hear me out here that Hunter X Hunter has an age of consent in that world at all or that it's anywhere close to ours. I know gross idea. No one likes it, but it would track.
Mito allows 12 year Gon to get on a boat by himself to take a dangerous test that could kill him. The whole island loves it. No one says he's just a kid. Certainly no that's illegal children must have adult supervision or even a school is mandatory. She doesn't want him to go, but there are no laws that would make him stay. At least on whale island so let's look at the exam.
Captain, crew, and passengers think it's weird a kid is taking the exam so young, but no one is concerned about laws or what not.
Exam officials are just like here's your number. No parent's permission or signing a waver at all. No one in the exam is concerned. Moving on to the next place Haven's area is the same.
I see you two unaccompanied minors would like to enter into a tournament where you might die! Right this way please! They aren't hiding it. This is a big city and if Gon died on live TV to Hisoka no one would get sued.
Child endangerment laws don't exist. If a 12 year old can sign up to die why would there be laws about them not being allowed to jump on adult dick?
Also Hisoka says very sexual things about the children in front of people that do not treat him like the scum of the earth for it. Like there are deeply evil people that would lose their shit at a mild suggestion that someone wants to fuck kids.
You think Bisky didn't notice how he stared at the boys on greed island? The kids she felt motherly towards? Didn't bother her at all.
I mean I don't think it's wildly accepted to fuck kids, but I don't know if it's illegal there. Most people see or hear him being creepy and act like he said he likes pineapple on pizza. Everyone could hear him talk in his fight with Gon. No one was calling him out on saying he's hard in front of the child.
Does Meteor city where Hisoka is from have any laws at all? Baby's are dumped off there. As insanely dark as it is at least some kids are gonna picked up for sex work.
The reason I bring this up is that Hisoka says he's normal and while he is a lair he was talking to himself and he's normally self aware. If pedos are a thing there then I think he would consider himself one and therefore I don't think he would use the word normal.
At the very least I think the age of consent might be terribly low or Hisoka was so used to seeing kids fucked in his hometown that he thinks it's normal, but again he doesn't actually want to fuck them, but he thinks killing is fucking so......ARUGH!
Don't get me started on his thing with Illumi. Are they fucking??? Clearly Hisoka thinks their relationship is going to lead to his kind of sex. We don't know how they met so they could have started out as fighting to the death and it was a tie so he thinks they are lovers?
Does someone have to die for it to be sex for Hisoka. Like if someone is fighting of their life and he spares them for later is that foreplay or a blow job?
Does Hisoka think he's done the nasty with Gon, Leorio, and Kurapika?
If Chrollo had used the spider members to cheat with his fight with Hisoka (I don't think he did) making it more then one on one without his permission does that mean Hisoka would consider himself gangraped since the rules of the sex changed?
Lots of things to consider here. Personally I have a fanfic that I was very proud of him being in character that I need to make serval changes too. I thought killing animals if he couldn't kill people would help with him control bloodlust, but I've misunderstood him in a big way.
How does everyone think this changes their view of Hisoka if it does at all and do you think that if Hisoka is a pedo with his own way of thinking then he should be considered one regardless of the exact actions he's taking towards children?
Also what is up with everyone's weird reaction when Hisoka doesn't hide that he's getting turned on by children? Are the laws super different or does no one think he would actually fuck a kid? Like what's going on with that? Is Togashi just blind at how most people see pedos?
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halcyonarylus · 15 hours ago
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Honestly, I don't blame Alhaitham for opting out of researching something in this scenario. While many scholars would have been over the moon to research a relic like the wedject eye - especially one connected to gods like Deshret and the Dendro Archon because people put gods to a high esteem - Alhaitham doesn't. Gods and humans are just different forms of existence in his eyes. So to me, he would view the object like someone else's possession - something very personal that contains nothing but memories. Like yeah, it's a magical item, but functionally it would be no different from a container of momentos. It would be like breaking into a box of childhood possessions or a locket to find a personal family photo or something to that effect. (And I'm of the opinion Alhaitham does have more moral guidelines than most people give credit for because of his objective perspective and monotone delivery. Seriously, he's very emotionally aware and human).
The only thing left of interest for the relic is how it records the memories as a mechanism. Or look at the material of the gem itself, or any potential inscriptions on the relic. Which wouldn't take much time to observe. So instead of taking personal time off from work or other life to travel a good distance just to look at something for a few minutes doesn't seem like a time worthy investment. If it were me, I'd rather wait for a stars align situation, like maybe when I go to the desert to research something else and oh the temple of silence is right there. Or, even better, that the item in question comes to me.
That said, Alhaitham being lazy crushes my hope to drag him to places of interest to me - like Enkanomiya, Dragonspine, etc. (I desperately want to bring the smart people to places of mystery in game as a lore person so they can explain things to me). and it dashes my hope that this amazing Sumeru cast can interact with characters of other regions, like Cyno and Tighnari with Albedo. I'd like more of that. Please let Alhaitham and/or Kaveh leave Sumeru or participate in other festivals. (Yes, I'm biased)
It is interesting Sethos is so cool with being open to letting Alhaitham (and Kaveh) research it and other things the Temple of Silence has, considering I don't think they really interacted directly in it (I haven't done Cyno SQ II yet; I just know the main points that happen). I take it Sethos has a good vibe check and can tell the scholars in the Crew-meru friend group would treat materials of the Temple of Silence properly and with respect. There's a lot I could say about how Sethos really isn't that close to Cyno despite being initially tethered to him, and how despite this he is finding a place and purpose outside the life that had been set for him, making all sorts of connections past the desert - hence why he is steadily creeping in to be a true member of the gang - but I should reserve that for when I actually do the story quest proper. He's in such a unique position in many ways, with a lot of story potential and growth available.
Sadly, little do all these characters know there is a high possibility that the memories contained within the eye might show the truth of the original Dendro Archon. I kinda hope, if not for the wedjat eye, that we get a future story or event at the Temple of Silence, given that the location is permanent even after Cyno's SQ II, instead of being a one time domain like in other story quests.
Regardless whether the wedjat eye comes back or not, I do feel we're inching closer to a Deshret and Nabu Malikata reveal - like with Guizhong. Candace did catch bits of conversations between the two gods (things like "will she find out" and "follow the tracks.") And I hope we get all of the Sumeru crew to research that (copium, I know). Like, I know the scene is functionally covering their tracks of 'the characters are so close to accidentally stumbling on a big truth on something they never questioned the validity on before (Rukkhadevata's existence) and giving excuses for them to avoid it - but it's precisely that that makes me think we'll at least revisit the topic in some form.
And speaking of which, they were not subtle about Nahida at least suspecting something. I expect Nahida to learn about Rukkhadevata eventually, though as a thought experiment I like to imagine what would happen if the other characters involved in the rescue operation were to also learn the truth - how that would affect or challenge their understandings of knowledge and memory. Like Alhaitham is especially fascinating in that regard because he both values written records, as shown in his teader, while also constantly questioning 'truth.' It's one thing to be critical, but how would your worldview change knowing the world actively deceives you and hides things. (Again, don't think it'll happen; just a thought experiment of mine)
Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.
i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!
alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger
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but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??
as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!
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alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read
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i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates
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cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event
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each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru
whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey
as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)
going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!
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darth-jess · 2 days ago
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Alright I normally stick to charcoal on paper but I've really wanted to experiment with digital art lately, so while I had a bad case of writer's block I decided to draw how I imagine Evil Padmé from my fic. (Disclaimer: I’m not an artist)
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If you're not familiar with my fic (Beauty & Rage) this apparition haunts Vader constantly– at first he believes it's some manipulation the Emperor created to torture him, but in truth she is a manifestation of Vader's own darkness. She is actually Vader's own creation, his own way of torturing himself for what he has done.
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The dress is supposed to be Padmé's wedding dress, but it is black and corrupted. Her wearing the dress is another way Vader tortures himself, as it is a reminder of the promises he made to her and how he failed her. In his twisted, broken mind, he sees that Anakin was not strong enough to save her, and so Anakin did not deserve her. The "apparition" wearing this dress is an insult, it is his way of blaming himself, a visual reminder that he could not save her/that he killed her. This image tells him: the moment she married you, her fate was sealed. You did this. Her wedding dress may as well have been her funeral shroud. (This is not exactly true, but that doesn't matter to Vader. Because the purpose of this is self loathing, the purpose of this is making himself pay for what he's done.)
Her lips are always painted red, red like Vader's lightsaber, red like the blood of the innocent lives Vader has taken. (I also gave her slightly elongated incisors in the drawing, it felt right and definitely made her look a bit more evil, but I haven't described that in my fic… maybe I will in a future chapter?)
Her eyes are amber-gold, flecked with red. They are Sith eyes, like Vader's.
I wanted to draw her smiling, especially because it is nothing like Padmé's real smile.
Everything about this image of her is a reflection of how Vader has corrupted himself. The apparition of Evil Padmé in Beauty & Rage is meant to represent Vader’s darkest self, as well as his broken psyche.
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I feel like we need to talk about Watergate more because we clearly haven't gotten over it
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viciousoverlord · 1 day ago
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He would nod as the other would leave. Taking advantage of this to pull out a box of cigarettes and take one out to smoke. Getting away from the table and leaning against a tree to quietly enjoy it. Much of the conversation of the other had been unheard on purpose. He could have listened if he cared to do so, but he did that only when he was wearing the uniform of a soldier. Knowledge was important. It was the first thing that life taught him. To have power was not just about being able to defeat anyone and everyone. It also meant knowing things that could give you an advantage over someone. At least when you considered them an enemy, and he didn't feel that way about the other. Not foolish enough to fully trust her, though. She was a destroyer, and there was no telling what could happen in the future. Her attraction for him was obvious, but she was mature, if the situation required so, she would ignore her feelings and take him out. At least, that's the conclusion he made with the little time they had been around one another. The purple smoke being ejected through his nostrils as he heard the woman step in his direction. He inhaled the poison into his lungs and turned the cigarette to nothingness before exhaling.
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Taking his seat at the side of the woman, then turning his gaze in her direction. Yes, I did, Kefla started while placing a palm on top of the closest hand and interlacing his fingers with the hand. Who wouldn't miss the presence of such a gorgeous woman? Moving the hand down to her wrist so he could bring her hand up and deliver a kiss to her knuckles. Do you think of me while we are away? He could not deny the way he felt about her. It was one thing to feel sexually attracted to a woman, and if it was just that. He would not feel the need to do anything he has done for the other. There were countless things he wanted to learn about the woman. Such confirmed that he was interested in being more than just a body to embrace at night. If asked, he would not mind spending another night exploring her body. It would be stupid to refuse something that would allow him to see her without anything on.
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buddyhollyscurls · 10 months ago
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yall ever wonder if charlotte bronte knew how erotic jane eyre was without it actually having eroticism in it like i think about it so much esp now since i just got done re reading it like jane and Rochester both equating their love for each other to a religion jane being like i made an idol of him Rochester saying he wanted to submit to her to do as she bid the scene where he proposes to her and he's like "give me my name call me edward"
charlotte wrote jane eyre and sprinkled in enough so that we know they like kinky sex and Rochester likes to get tied up
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