#where all of his family members and friends

[sylvianritual]

‼️Stop and Read 🇵🇸🕊️

How much work do you think goes into building a house? Laying the foundations, creating the floorplan, putting in the plumbing and wiring, there are so many considerations. But the hard work is worth it to know that your family will always have a place to call home, and your children will always have a roof over their heads and somewhere to live out happy lives.

Siraj, @siraj2024 , knows this process very well. He spent 10 years investing in and building a house for his family, so that he could provide them with hope for their future, and create a home full of love. Siraj and his family loved their house, but the occupation cannot let Palestinians have any happiness. Siraj’s home was bombed by Israel, and has recently been bombed again while he is trying to organize the effort to rebuild it! Why does Israel need to bomb a house that is already destroyed, if not to shatter the dreams and hopes of the future of the Palestinian people!?

Siraj refuses to let the occupation make him flee. He has decided to firmly plant his feet on the ground and rebuild his house, because it is his right to live in his own homeland. But he cannot accomplish this alone. He put a lot of time and effort into building the house the first time, before Palestine’s infrastructure was destroyed by the occupation.

Now it is difficult for him to prepare to build again while caring for his family of 23 members. He has an incredible weight on his shoulders, and his work and his campaign are the sole hope of his entire family. They live and sleep in a tent with little protection, but they have not given up on their beautiful home, and they need your support to see it restored.

If you are in the Northern Hemisphere, I'm sure you’re already feeling the weather starting to cool down. We all know that as fall begins, winter will not be long behind. But when you live in an exposed tent, where you are already vulnerable to insects and disease, the winter can be very dangerous.

The changing seasons will bring a whole new set of difficulties, and Siraj needs your support to care for his family in these times. Siraj works very hard to promote his campaign, walking several miles each day to access the internet, but he cannot do all the work on his own. He needs your support. Only by helping him spread his message and donate to his campaign will we see their beautiful home restored.

Verified #219

Siraj’s campaign is currently at

$81,108

He has a short term goal of 82k, that he needs to reach by the end of the day. His current overall goal is 150k.

Please donate to Siraj’s campaign, any amount helps a lot. If you have nothing to give, then please put your effort into sharing his campaign and speaking to your friends and others around you about it. You have more influence than you know, and your voice matters. Your donations and your assistance in spreading the campaign can be the difference for Siraj’s family.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi gorgeous how you doing? I have a request for a few things so just hear me up on this. I just had this in my mind by the way jey uso x reader Rhea and Damian has been friends with the reader since NX T but when the Yeet master comes along they started to be friends but the reader gets hurt  badly not so good judgement day ( i’m sorry to say that but the new judgement day nah) and who comes out and saves them terror twins and jey

jey uso x reader (romantic) / terror twins x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed !!!

‼️ a little angsty, fluff, the new judgment day being awful (just like they are)

forever my girl

the bond between you, damian and rhea was unique. you’ve been friends since the old days at nxt, where the three of you tried to make it up to the top in the company. if you had any problem, any doubt, any question, you knew that you could count on rhea and damian, the same way they could count on you.

you all made it big, being drafted from nxt to smackdown and raw where you all gained more respect and success.

being on the big rosters meant that you all got to make more friends and so a few people started hanging out with you.

rhea and damian got lucky that they got paired together for being a part of the judgment day while managers thought of giving you a solo push. it was working really good for you as you have been both raw and smackdown woman’s champion. you won your matches at wrestlemania and summerslam, so everything was really working out for you.

even if you were all pretty booked, you never stopped seeing each others outside work. a few people joined you too, especially jey uso who couldn’t stop teasing and annoying rhea. you thought it was funny and you pranked her a few times together.

jey was nice to hang out with. he was kind and funny and never fail to make you laugh. you were all like one big happy family, the judgment day members too. but when the judgment day broke up at summerslam you knew that rhea and damian were going to be alone. jey was busy with the whole bloodline mess again and you knew that you had to pick a side.

so you went ringside at bash in berlin and stopped finn when he tried to ruin the match for rhea and damian. you helped rhea when her leg got stuck over the ring and you were ringside again when, much to your surprise, jey joined damian in a tag team match.

but now it was you facing liv morgan. one on one. and it was an easy match as you were basically destroying her. she wasn’t as strong as you were and it was easy for you to pin her down quickly. she was mad that she lost and of course, in judgment day style, she started hitting you. she hit your back while the ref held up your arm as you won the match. your back immediately feeling an intense pain, you tried to get up but she shoved you on the ground. finn, dom, jd and carlito circling the ring, so now you were trapped. live kept hurting you and it felt like hell.

suddenly, rhea’s music echoed in the arena and she tried to run as fast as she could to help you inside the ring.

but she was alone and hurt so she was an easy target for the group. only a few minutes later both damian and jey ran out and followed rhea’s lead.

as rhea tried to stop dominik from running away, finn and damian began fighting. jey ran inside the ring and liv, as the coward that she is, ran away and tried to save dom from rhea.

you were laying there, hurting.

jey kneeled next to you, trying to see if you were still conscious “y/n…” he softly whispered “are you still with me love?”

you wanted to answer but no words came out of your mouth, instead you nodded but the slightest movement made your head pulse.

“medical staff is coming…we got you, i got you love” he gently whispered, moving some hair from your face.

“everything hurts…” you whimpered, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. jey’s heart broke, he couldn’t stand to see you in pain.

he didn’t understand why. it’s not like you were dating but the idea of seeing you hurt and crying made his blood boil. he was so mad and at the same time so conflicted because he couldn’t do anything to help you.

medical staff got there immediately and when they tried to move you, a soft scream left your lips that made jey shiver.

“i got you love…” he whispered “let me carry you backstage okay? the stretcher is too uncomfortable for you…” you nodded at his proposal and even though you felt like your whole body was in flames “hey shh…i got you, you’re safe with me” he gently whispered leaving a kiss on your forehead “i got you” he kept repeating, mostly to himself because he needed to be sure that you were okay.

once he brought you backstage, rhea and damian followed along, both worried about your condition. jey followed the staff instructions and he gently laid you down over the stretcher waiting for you in the medical room.

“she will be okay” one of the nurses tried to reassure the trio but non of them dared to leave the room.

rhea and damian were pissed. it wasn’t fair for you. you won your match without cheating and yet they cheated and doing so, you ended up badly injured. jey was stressing out, he couldn’t really understand what he was feeling. he always thought that you were beautiful and kind but he never thought about you in a romantic way so why was he so angry? why was he hurting? he hated seeing you barely conscious on that bed, doctors working on you. you shouldn’t be there, no, you should be backstage happily celebrating your victory with your friends and family.

“is she okay?” jey asked, pacing back and forth around the room.

“we are still checking her out…she has a concussion from the hit on the head she got when liv attacked her from behind…probably a few broken ribs but she should be fine…we still need time to finish all the tests” one of the doctor spoke and jey felt like fainting. he was beyond mad.

rhea and damian watched how stressed jey was and they couldn’t really understand why.

“uce” damian called him “what’s going on?”

“what you mean?” he pretended everything was fine.

“we mean, why are you so stressed? rhea stepped up.

“why aren’t you? she is your best friend and you’re here without saying or doing anything…” he said, passing a hand over his hair.

“uce you gotta stay calm…” damian tried one more time.

“i can’t…” he whispered, trying not to break.

“what is going on jey?” rhea was confused. she never seen jey so agitated and uneasy.

he took a chair next to them and shook his head “i don’t know…when i saw her in the ring and she couldn’t move, i felt like someone was ripping part of my body off…i don’t know how to explain it but it hurts seeing her like this…and when i brought her backstage she was softly crying in my arms…and i couldn’t do anything to help her…”

damian was still confused but rhea immediately understood why jey was acting like that. a smirk appeared on her face, shocked that none of the men were able to understand the situation.

men - she thought.

“you have feelings for her jey” rhea said, a little smile appearing on her face.

“what?” he was shocked. he knew he had feelings for you but hearing someone saying that out loud made him unsure.

“you like her and it’s pretty evident. you can’t even stay sit for five minutes, always checking on her or what the doctors are doing…you have feelings for her and that’s okay…she’s my best friend and if you hurt her i’m gonna kick your ass, but you like her and that’s normal…” rhea tried to reassure a very confused and scared jey uso.

he looked at rhea with a confused look. maybe she was right. he couldn’t understand the sudden pull towards you. but all the time you’ve spent together, pranking rhea, flying together, watching movies and training together, he never realised how much he actually liked you and now, seeing you hurt, laying on a hospital bed made him feel so helpless. he wished he realised it sooner, he wished he could tell you how much he likes you.

“she needs to rest…at least one month at home, no wrestling, no training, just rest so she can get better” the doctor said to the three adults. all of them nodding their heads before medical staff left the room, leaving them alone for some privacy.

“do you wanna stay alone with her?” rhea asked jey. he nodded, moving the chair next to your bed while the duo left. you were still unconscious. jey didn’t know if you actually fainted or if the doctors gave you some painkillers to ease your pain and to calm you down, but anyway, both cases sounded bad to him as he wanted to see you awake and smiling.

he gently stroked your cheek, his calloused hand moving delicately on your face “you’re so pretty y/n” he smiled to himself “i wish i realised sooner what i feel for you…”

you, on the other hand, woke up when the doctors explained that you had a concussion to the team. you heard rhea talking with jey, you heard him confessing. you didn’t know what to feel. you’ve always had a little crush for the twin but the idea of him actually being in love with you never crossed your mind.

your body was still on fire, your head hurting but you needed to let jey know that you were there, that it wasn’t his fault, that you were in good hands and that you were going to be okay.

“jey…” your broken voice caught his attention.

“hey…” he whispered, a soft breath escaping his lips, relaxing a little bit.

you coughed a little before opening your eyes. they were burning, meeting the strong and white light of the room. it took you a few minutes to get adjusted to the ambient light and temperature “by the way, i think you’re very handsome…” you took him off guard and you saw it by his embarrassed face.

“how much did you hear?”

“pretty much everything” you tried to laugh but you coughed more and jey, trying not to panic, handed you a glass of water “thanks…”

he smiled “so you weren’t sleeping uh?”

“i was but you all couldn’t keep your mouth shut and you woke me up” you made him laugh. that’s what he always liked about you. your sarcasm and funny personality, the way you always tried to find the good in bad situations. you were so similar and yet so different at the same time.

“everything i said it’s true…i like you, i should have realised it sooner…but i really, really like you…” he confessed once again, making you smile. you tried your best to not to laugh but he was jey uso, always trying to be funny and sarcastic, so a few laughs escaped your lips “girl, im trying to be serious”

“sorry sorry…” you smiled, making him chuckle “but i think you’re pretty cool too…”

“just cool?” he teased you.

“cool, funny, very good looking…” you were playing his game and he loved it. you were making him go crazy “and i think i like you too…fuck, i’ve had a crush on you since rhea introduced us…”

“oh wow, you’re good at keeping secrets uh?” he winked, making you laugh again “would you like to be my girl?” his voice got a little bit too serious now “i’m serious when i say that i like you, a lot…i’m probably just too stupid because i could have realised it sooner…but i promise you that i’ll be here for you, i’ll help you heal and you’ll get stronger than ever…”

“this means a lot to me…it sucks not being able to be at bad blood though…i needed to see liv crying after she loses the title” you faked being disappointed, earning a laugh from the uso.

“i’ll take care of you girl, my girl, forever my girl if you let me…” he whispered, looking into your eyes.

“how can i say no when you look at me like that?” you matched his serious tone, making him smile.

“then say yes…be my girl” he moved closer to you, sitting on the bed instead of the chair next to you. his hand gently caressing your cheek, brushing delicately over your lips.

“yes…” you whispered meeting his smile.

he felt relieved that you were okay. probably not okay mentally and definitely not physically but you were there with him. comfortable in his touch and that was enough for him.

[mechaknight-98]

Outrage II (NSFW) FT Nayoung

Operator's Notes: Now back with more x-men lore and gratuitous nudity

The hectic sound stage made finding where to go for the girl group Lightsum difficult. Thankfully their manager was there to guide them. She led them to their markers and where they were to stand when performing and gave clear directions as they waited. After this last show, they’d be free to explore California to their heart’s content. For Nayoung this meant seeing her best friend Davy Jones also known by his stage name Kraken. As the music played Lightsum crafted an excellent and explosive performance of their newest song. After the performance, they sat across couches from the talk show host.

“Well, Lightsum that was a Pretty great performance. (The audience claps while the talk show host gesticulates to encourage more) you guys are so talented. Can I ask what drives you?”

The interviewer shifted her attention to Chowon. “Chowon, what drives you?”

Chowon smiled confidently, leaning into the question with the poise of a leader. "Honestly, I think it’s the desire to keep improving. Whether it's dancing, singing, or just connecting with our fans, there's always room to grow. That pushes me every day. We’re constantly evolving, and I love being a part of that process."

The host nodded thoughtfully. "That's a great perspective, always reaching for more."

Next, she turned to Sangah. "And what about you, Sangah?"

Sangah, known for her strong stage presence, gave a warm smile. "For me, it's my family. They've always been my biggest supporters, so I do everything I can to make them proud. My younger sister especially—she’s like my biggest fan. So I just want to give back to them in any way I can."

The audience let out a collective "aww" as Sangah’s sincerity resonated with them.

"And Hina?" the host asked, directing her attention to the youngest member.

Hina beamed with her usual youthful energy. "I just love being able to perform! When I see people dancing along with us or singing our songs, it feels like we’re all sharing this huge, exciting moment together. That’s what keeps me going—it’s like we’re all connected through the music."

The host smiled at Hina’s infectious enthusiasm. "It sounds like the whole group has such a strong connection to your fans and each other."

Nayoung, sitting beside them, listened as her members gave their answers before offering her own thoughts on being enamored with performing. The interviewer noticed that Nayoung’s answer stuck out the most, however. She cited a love of performing and being enamored by it.

“Oh enamored with performing huh?” The host said Smiling. Nayoung nods as she shifts in her chair.

"Speaking of Enamored, it seems like you have the eye of another performer, and fellow mutant right?"

Nayoung blushed and said, "Oh Kraken is just a friend but also a good musical partner. Our flows work really well together." Nayoung explained.

The interviewer smirked and said, "Right? Well, then I hope you two do many collaborations in the future because the chemistry between you two is electric in any genre."

After the interview Nayoung and the rest of the group head back to their hotel. They move through really quickly as they all get into their rooms, and when she’s showered and done she texts “I’m done” to Kraken” She is happy when she hears the knock on the door. She opens it to see her boyfriend the unclean vocalist for The Flying Dutchman Davy Jones, but also known for his side project Kraken, which most of the world knows him as. Nayoung holds him tight before giving him a myriad of kisses all over his face covering him in her lipstick. Nayoung smiles and says, "I missed you,"

Kraken smiles and says, "Well I am here for you, and the weekend is ours."

Nayoung smiles and says, "I am going to have so much fun with you this weekend,"

Kraken smiled and said, "I look forward to it.

Kraken teleported Nayoung with him to the studio where his friends were. It was her last off weekend before their next comeback and she wanted to spend it with Kraken whom she hadn't seen in almost a month. However JD and the rest of "The Flying Dutchman" were back in the studio, working on more songs for their new album. After Fans heard the single with her and became ravenous for more. So JD started writing Sledgehammer. Their heaviest song yet.

JD's bandmates were surprised to see JD with a woman. They thought their friend had taken a vow of celibacy a long time ago, but here they were meeting his new "Friend"

"So what is she doing here?" Douglas the "nonchallant" member asked.

"She wanted to hang out and likes our music so this seemed like a good idea to show her the new stuff we were working on."

"Are you sure about this?" Jojo the more cautious friend asked.

Nayoung opened her jacket to show her "The Flying Dutchman T-shirt and everyone relaxed as she sat on the producer's side.

Nayoung sat in the cozy, dimly lit recording studio, watching as the band members of The Flying Dutchman adjusted their instruments and fine-tuned their equipment. Kraken had invited her to join them for the session, and she was thrilled to witness the creative process firsthand.

As Kraken excused himself for a quick break, Jojo, the band's drummer, approached Nayoung with a friendly smile. He was stout, with a very brotherly demeanor that belied his intense focus when he played.

"Hey, Nayoung, right?" Jojo asked, taking a seat next to her.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied, smiling warmly.

Jojo leaned back in his chair, glancing toward the door to make sure Kraken was out of earshot. "So, Kraken’s been talking a lot about you lately."

Nayoung felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Really? I hope it’s all good things."

Jojo chuckled. "Mostly. But seriously, we’re all pretty protective of him, you know?"

Nayoung nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it. He's a great guy, and I’d never want to hurt him."

"That's good to hear," Jojo said, his tone still light but with an edge of seriousness. "Kraken’s been through a lot with the band and all the pressures that come with it. He’s like a brother to us, and we just want to make sure he's happy."

"I really care about him," Nayoung said earnestly. "I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up."

Jojo studied her for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied with her sincerity. "I believe you. Just know that if you ever need anything or if something’s bothering you about the whole band thing, you can talk to me or any of us."

"Thanks, Jojo. I appreciate that," Nayoung replied, grateful for the support.

As Kraken returned to the studio, oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place, Jojo gave Nayoung a reassuring pat on the shoulder and stood up.

"All right, let’s get back to it!" Jojo announced, picking up his drumsticks and heading back to his kit.

Kraken smiled at Nayoung as he sat down beside her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything’s great," Nayoung said, feeling elated.

When everything was set up Jojo started with some heavy percussions. Followed up by AJ's haunting baseline. To compliment Noah and Dougla's powerful riff lines on keys and guitar. The AJ started singing about Massive machines mashing municipalities. Nayoung watched happily. They worked so well together and then she noticed JD had taken his Psionic barriers down. And the edges of the room began to fray ever so slightly. Her eyes went wide as she hadn't really seen the visual effects of his powers but noticed that reality began to unravel at the seams.

She watched intrigue. Tentacles began to grow from the walls as his power superimposed itself on reality. The room seemed to take on an almost misty appearance like they were truly aboard a ghost pirate ship. Nayoung smiled seeing Kraken so at ease, and in his element.

"Controll the Mob, Master the tides. Control the people's covered eyes. Destroy identity and replace it with malady. Crush dissidents like a sledgehammer. Broken bones and dreams left to die."

JD screamed and Nayoung watched in awe as his voice tore through the slowly distorted reality. It created this super interesting effect on his voice that made it sound almost filtered. Nayoung listened to the rest and after finishing JD put his barriers back up and turned to see Nayoung rocking out and headbanging her hair whipping in the producer section.

"How was that Nayo?" JD asked taking Nayoung out of her trance.

"Oh, that was so good. I loved the breakdown where you held the Hammer growl for 15 seconds, and you guys (Pointing to the rest of the bandmates) killed it." Nayoung said happy. The rest of "The Flying Dutchman laughed and all started packing up. When they finished they all walked over to the other side and began listening to the runthrough. Nayoung sat in the back jamming as they mixed and mastered the song before she realized that one of the drum sections had a similar bounce to it like Honey or Spice. She turned to JD who was focused then smiled.

After they finished this song a couple of hours later Nayoung and Kraken were off in his car. As they drove Nayoung opened the window and had her hand wave outside of it when an idea popped into her head.

“We should go to Krakoa?” Nayoung says happily

“Um, why?” Kraken asked

Nayoung smiled, “Well You’ve never been and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kraken said and Nayoung noticed his psionic barriers were back up. Nayoung smiled and said,

"Worried? That's so unlike you." she chided Kraken.

Kraken raised an eyebrow and then said, "Um well the issue is my dad was quite vocal against the leadership of Krakoa. So the moment they hear my name there may be an issue...or several."

Nayoung looked at Kraken worried, "Well do you believe what your dad said?"

"Some of it yes, and some of it no. He believed that having a super sapient continent that allowed mutants to be gods was a bad idea, which I disagree with. He also believed mutants were safe with regular humans, and seeing what happened with him and various hate groups over the years I disagree, but at the same time quite a few of the people who are in positions of power aren't good people."

Nayoung's eyes widened and asked, "Who?"

" Beast is a xenophobic racist trying to put a wall around Krakoa... Well, it's a psionic barrier that hurts mutants but you get the idea."

"Oh I remember that, but he did say it was hypothetical." Nayoung countered.

"He also made mention of chipping, tracking, and cataloging mutants," Kraken adds.

"Yeah, that was a crazy thing to say." Nayoung agreed

"Also this is discounting what dude said about mutants who stayed with humans as being house n-words," JD answers.

"Yeah Spike was a bit angry then but he's calmed down. On second thought you may be right because they have been in a weird spot these last few years"

"you know what" Let's go. Kraken said

Nayoung looked at Kraken shocked and to ease her worries he said,

"Well you know if I live in fear my whole life then nothing will change, so I might as well try to live outside of that fear."

Nayoung smiled proudly at Kraken, "Okay Let's get you packed."

After getting packed for the weekend trip Nayoung used her mutant's band to transport them to the mutant nation. She arrived in her family's other home. She smiled as she led Kraken to the room they'd be sharing. Kraken was surprised by the massive size of the whole house.

"Wow is your family like rich here?" Kraken asked.

Nayoung shook her head, "No just early adopters. My dad and mom took a chance and were rewarded greatly. It might not seem like it but we are a pretty big deal here."

Kraken nodded as he responded, "Okay that makes sense."

"So you ready to go out and see the country?" Nayoung asked Kraken

Kraken nodded as Nayoung led him outside. As she walked out she shed her "human form" and took on her fiery Psychic form. Kraken smiles as he looks at her, and lets his barriers psionic barriers down.

As Nayoung and Kraken stepped out of the house, the warm breeze of Krakoa greeted them. The sky was an impossibly vibrant blue, the sun casting a golden hue over the lush, sprawling landscape. Everything felt alive here—the trees seemed to hum, the ground pulsed with quiet energy, and the air itself felt rich with possibility. This was a place where mutants thrived, and Nayoung seemed to be in her element.

Nayoung let out a content sigh as she shifted into her fiery psychic form, her energy radiating in soft waves that shimmered around her. She glanced at Kraken, her eyes playful and bright. “Ready for the full Krakoa experience?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of excitement.

Kraken chuckled, finally letting down his psionic barriers. He felt a lightness as the psychic weight he constantly carried dissipated. “Lead the way,” he said, feeling more at ease than he had expected. There was something about being with Nayoung, in this place, that made everything feel...right.

They wandered through the lively streets of Krakoa, where other mutants greeted Nayoung with warm smiles and friendly waves. She was clearly well-known and liked here, and Kraken couldn’t help but admire the way she fit so effortlessly into this world. As they walked, she pointed out some of the landmarks, explaining bits of history and culture.

“That’s the Arbor Magna,” she said, nodding toward a massive tree that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. “It’s where the resurrection protocols happen. If a mutant dies, this is where they’re reborn.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Reborn? Like...completely?”

“Yep,” Nayoung replied, her fiery form flickering slightly as she spoke. “Their memories, their essence—it all comes back. It’s kind of beautiful in a way, knowing that death isn’t the end here.”

Kraken thought about it for a moment. “It’s...different,” he admitted. “But I guess it’s comforting, too. Knowing you can come back.”

Nayoung smiled, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die while we’re here. I plan on keeping you around for a while.”

Kraken smirked, glancing down at her. “Oh, is that so?”

She looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course. I still have a lot of things I want to do with you.”

As they continued walking, they found themselves by the beach. The sand was soft beneath their feet, and the water was a sparkling turquoise, inviting and serene. Nayoung kicked off her shoes, laughing as she ran toward the shoreline. She looked back at Kraken, her fiery form now glowing more brightly in the sunlight. “Come on!” she called out, her laughter infectious.

Kraken shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed her. The cool water lapped at their feet, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. He wrapped his arm around Nayoung’s waist, pulling her close. “This place is amazing,” he said quietly.

Nayoung leaned her head against his shoulder, her fiery aura softly blending with his energy. “It is. I’m glad you came with me.”

They stood there in silence for a while, just enjoying the moment, the calmness of the waves, and the warmth of each other’s presence. Finally, Kraken spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this whole trip. Krakoa...it’s not exactly what I expected.”

Nayoung looked up at him, curious. “What did you expect?”

Kraken shrugged. “Something more...chaotic, I guess. With everything I’ve heard about the politics here, I thought it would feel oppressive. But it’s...different. It feels free.”

Nayoung smiled softly, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his face. “That’s what Krakoa is supposed to be—a home, a safe place for all mutants. Sure, there are problems, but every place has its issues. What matters is that we have each other.”

Kraken stared into her eyes for a long moment before leaning down to kiss her gently. The kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with all the unspoken words between them. When they finally pulled apart, Nayoung’s smile widened, and she playfully tugged him toward the water.

“Let’s go for a swim,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Kraken laughed. “You know I’m not really a swimming kind of guy.”

“Come on,” Nayoung urged, her hand slipping into his. “It’s Krakoa. Live a little!”

With a resigned sigh and a grin, Kraken followed her into the water, their laughter echoing across the shoreline. As they splashed and played, it was as if the weight of the world melted away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other’s light and warmth.

For the first time in a long time, Kraken felt completely free. And he realized, as he watched Nayoung float effortlessly beside him, her fiery aura casting a soft glow over the water, that maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.

As the day wound down Nayoung took Kraken to the last spot he "needed" to see the memorial of the fallen. As Nayoung and Kraken stood by the memorial of the fallen, the atmosphere was somber. The names of long-dead mutants etched into the stone served as a heavy reminder of the sacrifices made to build Krakoa, a place where mutants could be safe—at least in theory. The two of them stood silently, side by side, paying their respects to those who had fought and died for their people.

“I know I should probably say something deep here, but—” Kraken began, only to stop mid-sentence as his body tensed. Nayoung turned confusion and worry spreading across her face.

A pale hand erupted from Kraken’s chest, and blood pooled in his mouth. Nayoung’s heart raced as she watched, horrified, while a familiar, ghastly figure burst forth from Kraken’s body. Cassandra Nova. The pale figure smiled coldly, discarding Kraken’s body like an old shell.

"Ah, well, you were a good vehicle, Dai, but you’ve served your purpose,” Cassandra said casually, as though Kraken’s life had been nothing more than a tool for her rebirth. She extended her hands toward the graves. “Now, for revenge.”

Nayoung could do nothing but watch as Cassandra’s powers stirred the corpses buried beneath the memorial. The ground began to shift, and slowly, the long-dead mutants began to rise from their resting places, their bodies twisted and shrouded in shadowy forms.

Kraken’s vision dimmed, his consciousness slipping as Cassandra’s influence overpowered him. It was like fading into a dream he couldn’t wake up from. Everything became surreal—until a voice cut through the dark haze.

"Wow, that was horrible," the voice said, vibrant and full of energy.

“Huh?” Kraken replied, utterly confused.

“Well, long story short, Cassandra Nova used your mind as a Psionic safety deposit box to revive herself when she had enough energy. Unfortunately, killing you was kind of the last step in her plan. But good news! You’re not dead. At least, not fully. I can revive you, but there’s going to be some... changes.”

The voice explained that Cassandra had altered his X-gene, farming his psionic energy. That was why his barriers had always been up, protecting him even from his own powers. But now, his original mutation could reemerge.

Kraken nodded, unsure of what exactly that meant, but trusting the voice. “Well, I guess that beats being dead.”

“Great! I’ll fix your body, but you’re going to need to fight—like, right now.”

Before Kraken could even fully register what was happening, everything burst into a force of bright colors. Then, in an instant, he was back in the real world, standing face-to-face with a very surprised Cassandra Nova.

“That’s impossible!” she exclaimed, but her disbelief lasted only a second before Kraken’s fist connected with her face. The impact knocked her out cold, her body crumpling to the ground.

The next few minutes blurred together as Kraken dealt with the remaining shadowy corpses and assessed the situation. Nayoung rushed to his side, her face a mix of shock and relief. Kraken quickly explained what had happened with Cassandra Nova, how she had manipulated his X-gene and used him as a vessel for her resurrection.

As soon as he finished, Cyclops approached, his expression stern but not hostile. “We need to talk,” he said, gesturing for Kraken and Nayoung to follow him.

They were led to a secluded part of Krakoa, a quiet space away from the bustling center of the mutant nation. Waiting for them were Beast and Jean Grey, their faces serious as they gathered around to discuss what had just occurred. Cyclops crossed his arms, his eyes sharp as he addressed Kraken.

“We’ve been monitoring your arrival since you set foot on Krakoa,” Cyclops began. “We were aware of your connection to Cassandra Nova, but we didn’t know the full extent of it. Until now.”

Beast adjusted his glasses, his voice clinical but with a hint of concern. “Your X-gene has been... tampered with. Cassandra Nova didn’t just farm your powers for energy; she altered your entire mutation. What you have now is unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

Jean Grey chimed in, her tone softer. “We want to help you, Kraken, but we need to understand what’s happened to you first. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s clear Cassandra Nova manipulated more than just your abilities.”

Kraken shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. “I didn’t know she was using me as a backup plan. But now that she’s gone...”

Cyclops raised an eyebrow. “Is she gone? You knocked her out, but we both know someone like Cassandra Nova doesn’t stay down for long.”

Nayoung, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Kraken didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t know he was being used. We should be focusing on how to help him, not interrogating him.”

Jean nodded in agreement, stepping forward. “You’re right, Nayoung. Kraken is a victim of all of this. But he’s also a survivor.”

Beast interjected, his voice more pragmatic. “We need to keep a close eye on him. If his mutation has evolved beyond our understanding, we need to be prepared for any potential dangers.”

Kraken clenched his fists. “I’m not a threat.”

Cyclops uncrossed his arms, his posture relaxing slightly. “We’re not saying you are. But we’ve seen how dangerous tampered mutations can be, especially ones manipulated by someone like Cassandra Nova.”

Kraken looked to Nayoung, her presence calming him amidst the tension. She gave him a small, reassuring smile before turning to the others. “He’s not alone in this. Whatever happens, I’m with him.”

Cyclops exchanged a glance with Jean before nodding. “We’ll keep an open mind. For now, get some rest. We’ll reconvene once we’ve had more time to assess the situation.”

As they turned to leave, Kraken felt Nayoung slip her hand into his, grounding him once more. They had survived Cassandra Nova’s return together, and whatever came next, they would face it side by side. They arrive at her house for the night and walk in exhausted.

"That knockout punch was so funny." Nayoung teased. Kraken rolled his eyes as they moved around the living room eventually finding themselves in their shared bedroom getting ready to sleep.

When Nayoung bent over to pick something up Kraken noticed her perky jiggly ass for the first time. It looked so soft and squeezable. His intrusive thoughts told him to "grab it" repeatedly. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed it. Nayoung yelled at the unfamiliar feeling but as she felt the large hand grope and tease her ass she felt herself beginning to get wet. She turned around to see a dazed Kraken mindlessly grab her ass. She smiled as she bit her lip before turning to him.

“Oh naughty boy,” she teased, and Kraken lost control. He brought Nayoung in for a lurid kiss as he continued groping her soft bouncy ass. He had no idea where these impulses were coming from but just followed them. Nayoung on her part felt his strong hands roam her ass and smiled at him seductively in between chaste kisses. As they kiss Nayoung begins to grind her ass on Kraken’s crotch she smiles as she watches him shiver in pleasure.

“You like my ass baby?” she whispers with a seductive voice before going in for another kiss. Kraken nodded

“Then you should fuck it,” Nayoung said seductively as she casually dropped both of their pants. She marvels at his hard cock.

“Oh nice.” she cooed. Kraken lines himself with her asshole and watches as it clenched. Without warning Kraken slams his cock into Nayoung. She moans and groans in pleasure in pain as she arches her back into him. She rams her aching ass back onto Kraken hoping to get his dick deeper in her ass. As she did she guided his hands to her petite but bouncy breasts.

“Oh fuck yes. Tear my ass up.” Nayoung moans as her slick drips under them. Krakens’s grip tightens around Nayoung’s Breasts as he pounds her tight little ass. She doesn't even need to read his mind to know his brain is overstimulated by her and his new feelings. She laughs when she feels him erupt inside of her ass.

“Oh such a big load for me,” Nayoung says.

Kraken catches his breath as he and Nayoung fall into the nearby bed. She stares at him tenderly. She notices he is still hard for her. She smiles as she gently strokes his cock. She stares at him with the biggest heart eyes she has.

"you know I was beginning to think you didn't find me attractive." Nayoung teased.

"Why would you think that?" Kraken asked

Nayoung groaned as she said, "Well you never made a move until now?"

Kraken shrugged "well the urge never hit me until now."

"Huh weird. I guess Mrs. Nova was locking your libido down too." Nayoung suggested as she began to pick up the pace a bit on her handjob. Kraken groaned as she did so. Nayoung smiled.

"this new body is so responsive. I don't think I have ever seen you so reactive." Nayoung teased.

"Fuck Nayo keep it up I'm close." Kraken moaned. Nayoung smiled and said,

"What if I were to just stop right here, and leave you on the edge." to illustrate her point she slowed down to a tortously glacial pace. she smiled at Kraken, who moaned and bucked his hips into her hand.

"Um no no. I am in control baby. you'll get pleasure when I say so," she says as she grips on his meat tighter. she smiles when little beads of precum drip out into her hand, and she continues to stare at Kraken with those heart eyes before saying, "Okay now." before taking an unrelenting pace that's only goal was to get Kraken to cum. a few seconds later he exploded in her hand, and Nayoung smirked reveling in her control of her man.

The next morning, the sun rose over Krakoa, casting a warm golden light over the island's lush landscapes. Kraken and Nayoung were sitting outside, enjoying the peace and quiet after the chaos of the previous day. Kraken, still adjusting to the idea of being back in his original body, let his mind wander, wondering what the day ahead would bring.

Just then, a shimmering portal opened in front of them, and out stepped X-23, Magik, and Nightcrawler. Kraken tensed, recognizing them immediately as some of Krakoa's elite. Nayoung glanced at him with a reassuring smile, though her eyes were curious as well. They both stood as the trio approached.

"Kraken, Nayoung," Nightcrawler greeted warmly, his distinctive blue skin and gentle smile instantly putting Nayoung at ease. He glanced at Kraken with interest before turning his focus back to the group. "We wanted to check on you after yesterday’s... unexpected event."

"Unexpected is one way to put it," Kraken muttered, his arms crossed. "But I appreciate the concern."

Nightcrawler’s golden eyes studied Kraken for a moment before a look of recognition crossed his face. “Wait… I know you. You’re Daizen’s son, aren’t you? Daizen from Stanford, the professor.”

Kraken blinked in surprise. He wasn’t used to people recognizing his family, especially here. "Yeah... that’s my dad. Daizen Ishikawa. You knew him?"

Nightcrawler nodded, his expression a mix of admiration and somberness. “He was a great man, a prominent pro-mutant activist. He always fought for understanding between humans and mutants. I remember hearing him speak at the United Nations once. But...” Nightcrawler hesitated, "he was also... vocal in his opposition to Krakoa, wasn’t he?"

Magik, standing next to Nightcrawler with her sword resting on her shoulder, raised an eyebrow. "He was the one who said Krakoa would turn mutants into gods, wasn’t he?"

Kraken sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that sounds like him. My dad was always complicated. He believed in mutants and humans coexisting, but he didn’t like the idea of isolating mutants on an island. Said it made us look like we were turning our backs on the world instead of fixing it."

X-23, quiet until now, crossed her arms and stepped forward. "So what do you think? Are you like him?"

Kraken met her gaze, his face unreadable for a moment before he spoke. "I’m not my father. I don’t agree with everything he said. He believed humans were capable of protecting mutants if we gave them the chance. But after seeing hate groups rise up, after what happened to him... I can't say I have that much faith."

Nayoung placed a comforting hand on his arm, sensing the emotion behind his words. Kraken took a deep breath, trying to find the right way to explain his beliefs. "I believe... that standing up for yourself is the only way to survive. You can’t wait for someone to save you. If you don’t fight for your own freedom, no one else will. And when you stand up, it gives others permission to do the same. That’s how you build stronger relationships, whether it’s between humans and mutants or between anyone. You show people your strength, and that pushes them to respect you."

Nightcrawler tilted his head, thoughtful. “So you believe in mutual respect earned through action?”

“Yeah," Kraken said, nodding. "I think mutants have to show the world we won’t be victims anymore, but that doesn’t mean we isolate ourselves. We have to engage with humans, show them we’re not going to be pushed around, but we’re also not above them. That’s how real relationships grow."

Magik gave a small smirk. "Interesting. You sound like you’d fit right in here after all."

X-23 uncrossed her arms, her expression softening slightly. "You’re saying we need to be strong, but not just for ourselves. For everyone else, too."

Kraken nodded again, more firmly this time. "Exactly. Standing up for yourself teaches others to stand up for themselves. And once that happens, respect grows naturally. It’s not about being superior or inferior—it’s about being equal, but not relying on someone else to define that for you."

Nightcrawler’s gaze softened with understanding, and he nodded in agreement. “Your father was a wise man, and it seems that you’ve inherited his passion, even if your paths differ.”

"I suppose," Kraken replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "But it’s not just about mutants being ‘better’ than humans, or setting ourselves apart. It’s about making sure we’re part of the world, standing our ground, and not letting fear—or anyone else—dictate our place in it."

Nayoung looked up at Kraken, her eyes bright with pride. “You’re right. If we want things to change, we can’t just run away from the world. We have to face it.”

X-23 nodded, stepping back as if the conversation had satisfied her curiosity. "Sounds like you’ve got your head on straight. Guess we don’t have to worry about you being like Cassandra Nova, after all."

Kraken let out a small, dry laugh. “Definitely not.”

Magik’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You might just survive here, Kraken."

Nightcrawler smiled warmly, reaching out to shake Kraken’s hand. “Welcome to Krakoa, my friend. I think you’ll find there are many here who share your beliefs.”

As Kraken shook his hand, he felt a sense of acceptance from the group, something that had been missing since he set foot on Krakoa. Maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a place here after all.

As they turned to leave, Kraken exchanged a glance with Nayoung. "Looks like I’m not so out of place here, huh?"

Nayoung smiled. “Told you so.”

Kraken glanced at it absentmindedly, seeing that he was tagged in a post by The Flying Dutchman’s official page. He opened the app, expecting some promotional material for their upcoming album, but as he scrolled through the post, his stomach twisted.

The words felt foreign, even though they were written clearly in front of him. “New sound, new direction. Excited to welcome our new vocalist…” Kraken’s grip tightened on his phone as he kept reading. Anger flared first, but sadness soon followed, settling deep in his chest.

Nayoung’s voice was light and cheerful in the background, talking to her members, but the sharp contrast to Kraken’s mounting turmoil felt like static in his head. She turned back to him, noticing the shift in his energy before she even saw his face.

“You okay?” she asked softly, stepping toward him.

Kraken took a slow breath, forcing a smile that felt brittle. “I’ll try to be.”

Nayoung didn’t seem convinced. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and peppering him with soft kisses. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. Stay safe, okay?”

Kraken only nodded, watching as she headed off with her group. Once she was out of sight, he turned and walked home in silence.

Two weeks later.

At Nayoung’s concert in LA, Kraken sat in the audience, enjoying the energy of the crowd, though a part of him still felt disconnected from the excitement. Afterward, they met up at a quiet burger joint, the dim lighting and soft murmur of conversation providing a sense of calm after the high-energy performance.

Nayoung looked at him curiously, sensing something had shifted in him. He looked different somehow, more distant. She couldn’t quite place it.

“You know,” she began, taking a sip of her drink, “there’s this new artist I found recently. Reminds me a lot of you. His name is Daikaiju. He’s really good.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Oh yeah? What’s your favorite song of his?”

Nayoung beamed, glad to see him smile, even if just for a moment. “Definitely Rampage. It’s eerie and moody but the lyrics are so fascinating. It’s like he’s trapped in this city full of people who use him. And then there’s Calamity, oh man, that one’s about standing up for yourself even when it’s terrifying.” She paused, watching him for a reaction. “Kind of like you.”

Kraken chuckled softly, nodding. “Sounds like my kind of music.”

“But enough about that—how’s The Flying Dutchman doing? I thought you guys just dropped a new album.”

Kraken’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he shrugged. “You should give it a listen.”

Nayoung frowned, confused. She took out her phone, pulling up the album she’d saved but hadn’t had time to hear yet. She tapped on Sledgehammer, expecting to hear Kraken’s familiar voice. As the song played, she frowned, skipping ahead. His voice was nowhere to be found.

Her confusion turned to shock as she checked the lead single—the one they’d worked on together. Nothing.

“They kicked you out,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kraken nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

“But why? What happened?” she demanded, her anger rising.

Kraken’s smirk was bitter. “It’s simple, really. They saw the fight in Krakoa, saw me getting involved with mutants, and got scared. Said it was bad for the band’s image. I guess it wasn’t about the music anymore.”

Nayoung’s eyes flashed with fury. “That’s ridiculous!”

Kraken shrugged again, the weight of it all heavier than he let on. “It is what it is.”

Nayoung reached across the table, grabbing his hand. “You didn’t deserve that. You’re an amazing artist, and if they can’t see that, screw them.”

Kraken’s smile returned, softer this time. “Thanks. But hey, at least there’s always Daikaiju.”

Nayoung squeezed his hand, determined to support him, no matter what. Kraken smiled mischeviosky as Nayoung hugged him. She noticed and said,

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” Kraken responded. Nayoung pouted, “you're hiding something.” she said suspicious of Kraken.

“I am but I can't reveal everything just yet.”

Over the next few days, Nayoung found herself listening to Daikaiju more often than she intended. At first, it was just curiosity. The artist had dropped four singles seemingly out of nowhere, and the buzz around him was growing by the day. But it wasn’t just the hype—it was the music itself that grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. Each track carried a weight, as though the artist was unburdening himself with every note, every word.

Rampage was the first to hook her. It began with a slow, steady pulse of industrial beats, building gradually into a cacophony of heavy guitars and eerie synths. The sound was so raw, almost unpolished, but in a way that felt intentional. Like the music itself was a fight to maintain control, to keep from spiraling. The lyrics were sharp, almost biting. Daikaiju spoke of being trapped, surrounded by people and forces that drained him, used him, and cast him aside. But beneath that rage was something more—a sense of defiance.

The bridge of the song was quieter, almost a whisper, and Nayoung found herself leaning in, waiting for the next line. “Claws sharpened on broken chains… wings clipped, but I’ll soar again,” he sang. There was something unmistakably mutant in that imagery, something that spoke to the struggle of hiding, of being forced to suppress a part of yourself that should be free.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d heard this story before.

As the days went on, Nayoung dove deeper into Daikaiju’s music. Calamity came next, and she listened to it on repeat for hours. The song was slower, more haunting, with dissonant chords clashing against a backdrop of ambient noise. The lyrics painted a picture of cowardice and bravery, of the terrifying moment when you have to choose between hiding or standing up for yourself. “Courage isn’t in the absence of fear,” Daikaiju’s voice crooned, “it’s knowing fear, and standing anyway.”

There was something achingly personal in the way he sang those lines. It felt less like he was performing and more like he was confessing.

Every time Nayoung played one of his tracks, she felt a sense of familiarity tugging at the edges of her mind. It was more than just recognizing the themes of struggle and defiance—it was as if the person behind the music was someone she knew intimately. His voice carried a vulnerability she recognized, though it was often masked by the layers of distortion and effects. Daikaiju didn’t just sing about pain, isolation, and determination—he lived it in every note.

Late one night, Nayoung was scrolling through fan comments on one of the music forums when something caught her eye. Someone had written under a post about Eclipse, one of Daikaiju’s singles: “This guy sounds like Kraken but with more raw emotion. Anyone else getting that vibe?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Kraken. It couldn’t be, could it?

She tried to shake the thought from her mind at first. Kraken had been through a lot lately—getting kicked out of The Flying Dutchman, the fight in Krakoa—but this? This seemed almost too coincidental. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The sudden change in Kraken’s behavior after the trip to Krakoa, the distant way he had been acting during their last few conversations. There was something unspoken hanging between them, something Kraken hadn’t been able to say outright.

And now, listening to Daikaiju, she could feel it. It was Kraken’s voice. Not just in the literal sense, though it had that same familiar grit and tone—but in the emotional depth, in the way he laid bare his struggles without fully explaining them. This was Kraken, stripped of the bravado and stage presence of The Flying Dutchman. This was Kraken speaking directly from his soul, unfiltered.

Her fingers shook as she hit replay on Rampage. This time, she listened even more intently, her mind racing. She heard the subtle shifts in his voice, the way he struggled to keep the anger in check. She recognized the lines that spoke to her directly, that made her think of the conversations they’d had late into the night about what it meant to be a mutant, about the battles they faced just to be themselves.

It was all there, hidden in plain sight. The identity Kraken had hidden from the world was woven into every beat, every word of Daikaiju’s music. He hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was there, for those who listened closely enough to understand.

Nayoung’s heart swelled with pride—and a deep sadness. Kraken had gone through this alone. He had taken all of the pain, the rejection, the confusion, and turned it into art. But in doing so, he had distanced himself from the people who cared about him.

She couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been planning this. Daikaiju wasn’t just a side project—it was his way of rebuilding himself, of finding a new voice after losing his place in the band. But it was also a way of hiding. By releasing this music under a new name, he was protecting himself from the vulnerability of exposing his true feelings.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized how deeply personal Daikaiju was. Kraken had taken his childhood nickname—Kaiju—and combined it with his first name, Daizen, to create something entirely new. It was as if he was reclaiming a part of himself he had lost over the years, a part that had been overshadowed by the fame and pressure of being in The Flying Dutchman.

Nayoung smiled, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. She had always known Kraken to be someone who fought for what he believed in, who stood up for himself no matter the odds. But now, she was seeing a different side of him—a side that was more introspective, more vulnerable. And she admired him even more for it.

With a soft sigh, she put her headphones down and sent Kraken a text: “You should know, Daikaiju is amazing. I’m proud of you.”

A few minutes passed before Nayoung’s phone buzzed, breaking her reverie. It was Kraken—no, Daikaiju now, she reminded herself. She couldn’t help but smile as she answered, excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

“So, you figured it out. My little sleuth,” he said, his voice laced with a playful mischief that immediately made her heart skip.

“Yeah,” Nayoung replied, trying to match his teasing tone, “on my fifteenth listen of Rampage, I finally cracked the case. I didn’t know you had more in you than just metal, Kraken.”

“Daikaiju,” he corrected, but there was no seriousness in it. “And yeah, there’s a lot I’ve been keeping under wraps. Metal’s great and all, but there’s more to me than just screaming and shredding.”

Nayoung grinned. “Mmm, there is, isn’t there?” She let her words hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the way they teased out a little silence before Kraken spoke again.

“Well, you know,” he began, his tone becoming more reflective, “one of the biggest things I pushed for in The Flying Dutchman was trying new sounds, experimenting beyond metal. But for them, it was always about being technically perfect. Especially Douglas. Everything had to be precise, academic even. Time signatures had to be flawless, tempos had to be perfect, and they were obsessed with hitting every mark.”

Nayoung could hear the frustration in his voice, though he kept it light. “Sounds exhausting.”

“Oh, it was. They were so caught up in making the music ‘perfect’ that they couldn’t finish anything. Before I joined, they could barely complete a song. It was like they were more interested in the mechanics of music than the art. I remember at one point saying, ‘Look, how are we supposed to play half of this stuff live?’ You know? Live performances are where we make a big chunk of our money, and some of their ideas were just impossible to pull off.”

She laughed softly. “I can’t even imagine trying to sing along to that.”

Kraken chuckled in return. “Exactly! It got so bad that it sucked the fun out of creating. Music stopped being about making something that spoke to people—it became a math equation. Sure, we sounded good on a technical level, but we were missing soul.”

“Well,” Nayoung said, her voice teasing again, “I think you’ve done an exceptional job with Daikaiju. Your sequencing is impeccable. You’ve got a way of blending chaos with melody. It’s clever. Really clever.”

“Thank you,” Kraken replied, a warmth creeping into his voice. He paused, as if taking a moment to absorb her compliment. “Daikaiju’s different because... it’s me. Completely independent. I can do whatever I want with it, release music when I’m ready, on my own terms.”

Nayoung giggled. “So, basically, you’re saying you can release music at an almost uncontrollable, chaotic rate?”

Kraken laughed. “Pretty much. Like a wildfire—once it starts, it’s hard to stop.”

“Sounds like you’re enjoying the freedom,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.

“I am. It’s been liberating. No more pressure to fit into someone else’s vision or be perfect all the time. I get to mess up. I get to create without the fear of being judged for it. And it’s funny... the less ‘perfect’ I try to be, the more people seem to connect with the music.”

Nayoung’s heart softened at the vulnerability he was showing. “That’s because people can hear you now. The real you, not the version someone else wanted you to be.”

“Maybe,” Kraken replied quietly, almost to himself. Then, in a lighter tone, he added, “Alright, last question, detective Nayoung.”

“Wait, no,” she protested, “I get to ask the last question!” She couldn’t stop herself from grinning, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Fine, fine,” he said, playing along. “What’s your final inquiry, detective?”

She bit her lip, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “When’s the Daikaiju tour, and when are you coming to Seoul? I want to see you again.”

Kraken laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent a flutter through her chest. “Ah, that’s the question, huh?”

“Of course. I’m your biggest fan now,” she teased, her voice softening. “I think I deserve a VIP ticket, at least.”

“You’re more than a VIP,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone that made her pulse quicken. “I could visit Seoul anytime. You know that.”

“Hmm, well, I’m waiting,” Nayoung said playfully. “Just tell me when.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I’m packed. How does that sound?”

Nayoung’s smile widened. “It sounds like a plan. Just make sure you bring Daikaiju with you.”

“Oh, I’ll bring more than that,” he replied, his voice full of promise. “I’ll bring everything.”

Nayoung’s heart fluttered at the playfulness of his words, but there was an underlying sincerity that made her feel like this was more than just music. Kraken—no, Daikaiju—was stepping into a new chapter, one where he was fully himself. And she couldn’t wait to be a part of it

[auntiejohn]

I love fics that explore internalised homophobia but I especially enjoy when James struggles with aspects of it because I've seen people say that he wouldn't struggle with it at all because he grew up in such an accepting and kind environment but I feel like it's so much more than that.

my parents have been taking me to pride marches every year since I was a baby and I have queer and trans family members and I haven't struggled with internalised homophobia but ive definitely dealt with aspects of it.

at the end of the day being queer is hard no matter what. coming to the realisation you're something you didn't think you were is difficult and living as a queer person is difficult.

I really enjoy fics where James struggles with his queerness because it wasn't something he ever considered for himself, basically all of his friends are queer in some way so he knows it's okay but being the only straight one was like part of his identity and coming to terms with the fact that he's not straight it hard for him.

[upprahfunnel]

Help a Mother Overcome Hardship and Provide Stability

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I want to give my children the best childhood possible, and your support will help me provide the stability and security we currently lack. Together, we can make this dream a reality.

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[imfoive]

The Youngest Son - Chapter 10 | END

Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: non-idol au!, Suspense, Angst, Romance, Mature Warnings: tw-descriptions of car accident, mentions of blood, cursing, attempted m*urder, implied death, somewhat proofread WC: 6.8k A/N: I literally can't believe this series has finally come to an end. I had such fun creating this word, the characters and the story. I truly hope everyone who read this, enjoyed it as much as I liked writing it! Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The youngest son of the Lee family was stubborn, he was arrogant, he was conniving. Hiding it all behind the mask of a calm and collected man, the youngest son was a master at mind games. Playing a dangerous game where trust is a luxury and betrayal lurks around every corner. He had sworn once, to not let family ties or any feelings hold him back. Yet, against all odds, she had him completely wrapped around her fingers, and he had no desire to break free.

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

CHAPTER 10 ───────────────────

The youngest son had never known what a life of normalcy would look like. Not having to double, triple-think about what to say, what to do. Not having to distinguish what those expression on the faces of his so-called family members meant, were not things Minho had ever thought about.

The youngest son had always lived with his eyes peeled open. His gaze sharp, his actions calculated.

His heart, guarded.

The chairman’s lessons were engraved in his mind. Love has no place in business. Love was distracting, it hinders one’s ability to think with a sound mind, unbiased. A conniving businessman didn’t need those useless emotions.

The youngest son didn’t know what love was, he had never cared to find out. Yet he found himself already drowning in it even before he could realize.

Lee Minho had started to dream of normalcy.

The night he kissed Y/N the first time.

Perhaps even back when he drank that salt-laced water.

The loud bass of the music, bounced off his ear drums, vibrating the very ground he stood on. The vibrant colors, bright against the dark of the club.

His eyes scanned for just a few moments before he was drawn to her figure. Like a moth to a flame, hypnotized by her. He stood rooted to his spot, unable to look away, no matter how much his mind told him to leave. He was stuck.

Like an insect in a spider web. One she had intricately woven around him as she broke down his walls.

And deep down he knew he had no intentions of trying to break free.

The birthday girl swayed to the music, eyes shut, serene almost in the chaos of the club around her.

He inhaled sharply.

Minho didn’t plan on showing up. God, he should have just turned off the light and went to sleep that night. Yet when he had caught a glimpse of Y/N in that photo, uploaded by some other person amongst her group of friends, his breath hitched. Eyes scanned over her. Her smile, her figure, her dress.

He found himself moving on his own.

He found himself at the club, trailing behind her as she staggered her way off the dance floor, eyes searching for friends who she failed to recognize amongst the crowd in her drunken haze. Her words were jumbled, yet fingers easily clawed at whatever shot of alcohol was handed to her.

Minho’s body moved on it’s own.

The alcohol burned down his throat. A silent hiss escaped his lips as he slammed the glass down. Staring at her big eyes that glared at him.

Some accusatory words were exchanged, he couldn’t even recall it anymore, his mind had been fixated on the fact that her lips had engulfed his ones. On the kiss, the hot and wet kiss, that had sent alarms ringing through his head.

He should have never held her. Should’ve never allowed his fingers to cup her jaw, returning the kiss almost instantly, desperately.

He shouldn’t have allowed her to tie him in her web. Shouldn’t have loved her.

Minho shouldn’t have dreamt of normalcy.

───────────────────────

There was a chill in the air, the night enveloping the chaos that had occurred in its darkness.

Minho’s car a few feet away, slammed against the guardrail.

The larger, white car that had hit it stood alone in it’s own scrappy mess.

Lee Joohyeon’s senses were reeling as he gasped against the deflated airbag, the suffocating smell of smoke and the taste of his own blood made him groan. Made him nauseous, his head spinning.

His glasses lens was shattered, the frame digging uncomfortably into his temple. His neck throbbed painfully, and every movement sent sharp reminders of the impact coursing through his body. A constant hissing noise hitting his ears.

Slowly, he peeled himself away from the airbag, his hands trembling from pain, and aftershock as he gripped the wheel.

Reality crashed down on him with brutal force almost instantly.

He had caused this. 

The realization made his stomach churn, his breath hitch. Joohyeon leaned back into the seat, staring through the wrecked windshield, shards of glass casting shattered patterns across his view.

The chaos around him was surreal, aftermath of his violent collision. His car was a twisted mess, the front of it crumpled and the engine smoking.

He was lucky to even be alive. Lucky to have seemingly minimal injuries.

But even before he could take a sigh of relief, he stared mortified at the other car.

The sight of Minho’s car.

The younger brother’s totaled vehicle, sent a fresh wave of horror through him.

Joohyeon’s eyes traced the damage, a new fear tightening in his chest. He had struck Minho’s car with almost full force, driven by a storm of emotions that had instantly disappeared as he looked at this scene. 

Was it truly worth it?

The words of his grandfather, Park Hyunmin, echoed in his head. Their words of dismissal, of being deemed unworthy compared to his favored brother, Minho.

Lee Minho was capable.

Lee Minho was worthy.

Lee Minho deserved to become the next leader.

They had called him useless, not worth their time, while Minho basked in their praise and expectations. Raising in ranks, falling in love.

Being happy.

Anger had simmered beneath Joohyeon’s surface for years, fueled by resentment and the constant feeling of being overshadowed. Things he had suppressed in attempts to keep his facade as a capable son.

But today, something snapped. 

He hadn’t planned this. No. It was just a mere coincidence.

Truly. The older man’s actions were not premeditated.

A wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time kind of situation.

But perhaps this was exactly the right opportunity for Lee Joohyeon. To soothe the anger that coursed through him.

When he had spotted Minho’s car on the road, triple checking the license plate, the make and model, a sudden surge of fury had consumed him. A fury that drove his actions without conscious thought.

He remembered the moment vividly.

The white-hot rage that had coursed through him as he stomped on the accelerator. In that brief, reckless instant, nothing else had mattered but the desire to lash out, to take a revenge he didn’t know he wanted. Nothing else had mattered when he was determined to hit the car. But now, all that was left was fear. Only one thought repeating in his mind over and over again.

That he was absolutely fucked.

Slowly, the second grandson gathered his senses, his trembling hands tracing the cracked frame of his glasses. Struggling against the pain, Joohyeon managed to pry open the door that rattled at the slightest touch, wincing as he stumbled out onto the pavement. He leaned heavily on his shredded vehicle, his breath catching in his throat as he limped towards the crumpled remains of Minho’s car, praying that he hadn’t actually ended up killing him. 

As he drew closer, he realized Minho’s car was much more of a wreck up close, its passenger side a mangled mess. His wide eyes scanned, peering inside.

He froze.

There, amidst the shattered glass and twisted metal, lay Y/N Park. Her serene stillness and the stark contrast of her blood against her once-white dress, blood running down her face, sent a chill down Joohyeon’s spine. 

He suddenly wished he did kill Minho. 

Joohyeon staggered back, his mind reeling with disbelief and horror. He swallowed hard, tears mixing with the blood on his face, panic setting in. The ringing in his ears drowned out the distant sirens approaching the scene. He was still in pain, but he knew that he should just consider himself dead now. There was no way Park Hyunmin would let him out of this alive. 

So the second grandson of the Lee family, did what he does best after creating a mess.

He ran away.

But of course he doesn’t think about the cameras, the witnesses that watched him do so.

Because after all, he wasn’t worthy of leading anyone, forget L Corporation. A dimwit indeed.

The news of Lee Joohyeon’s reckless actions and the tragic aftermath of the car accident spread swiftly through the media, overshadowing what should have been a joyous occasion celebrating the civil marriage of the youngest Lee son and the Park heiress, which had barely been announced before tragedy struck.

Breaking News.

This just in.

What should have been a happy day for the couple.

Brother attacks brother.

The headlines flashed across screens, capturing the attention of viewers nationwide. Among them, Chairman Lee stared at the broadcast, his face drained of color, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. The reporters at the scene of the accident were mere feet away from the twisted wreckage, their voices somber as they described the scene. 

Secretary Cha entered the room hastily, but his steps faltered when he saw the stunned expression on Chairman Lee’s face. He approached cautiously, concern etched on his features as he realized the impact of the news on his superior.

Chairman Lee could feel it again. That pain in his chest. But this time, the pain struck him suddenly and fiercely, stealing his breath. He groaned in agony, the pressure in his chest unbearable.

   “Chairman!” Secretary Cha exclaims, holding onto him before he collapses.

Amidst the chaos, another alert flashed across screens.

Breaking News: Chairman Lee of L Corporation has a heart attack. 

Then there was Park Hyunmin.

Y/N’s father was beyond pissed. The kind of fury that could only be extinguished by seeing Lee Joohyeon pay for whatever chaos he had left behind in his recklessness.

Just this morning the father had seen his daughter, giddy and glowing. Radiant. She had hugged her mother, dressed up more than usual. Exclaiming she had a surprise for them, one she would bring home that same night. An inkling that it had something to do with Minho.

Yet the only surprise he received was a phone call. The kind no parent wanted to get. 

He stormed through the house security and kicked down the doors of the Lee Residence, wielding a katana.

Inside, the remaining members of the Lee family were gathered in the living room, visibly shaken by the day’s events. The Chairman’s two older sons had rushed him to the hospital, while Jihoon sat among the women, who were in hysterics over the family’s misfortunes.

   “Where the fuck is Lee Joohyeon?!” Park Hyunmin roared, his fury unmistakable, seethed through clenched teeth.

Joohyeon’s mother rushed to him, her voice trembling with desperation.

   “I’m so sorry Director Park, my son has done something so terrible. He didn’t mean to hurt Y/N. Please. Please forgive him.” She pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

Park Hyunmin shot her an angry glare.

   “Even if he didn’t mean to hurt Y/N, his original plan was to harm Minho. My son-in-law. He’s had it out for him—even going as far as airing out his illegitimacy!” He spat, his voice laced with venom.

His words took the members of the Lee family and Minho’s so-called mother off guard, bewildered. Unaware of exactly what kind of misdeeds her competent son had been stacking behind their backs.

Now, with a sword in hand, Y/N’s father was searching for the man he had treated with kindness only hours earlier. Even going as far as pretending his nonsensical babble over their brief encounter, was nothing but drunken words.

   “I don’t care if I get arrested. Only god can save that son of yours. Because if I see him.” He warned, leaning in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

   “I will end him.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

───────────────────────

Minho’s eyes snapped open, his chest rising and falling rapidly, breath coming out in ragged exhales as he adjusted to the blinding hospital lights. The sterile smell of the hospital overwhelmed his senses, as his eyes darted over the pale ceiling, trying to figure out exactly where he was.

And almost instantly his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. The image of his bride, who had smiled so brightly at him, the image of her bloody figure slumped limply at just an arms length away, came surging back to him.

But now Minho was alone. In the room that smelled heavy of antiseptic and the loud, sharp ringing of machines. He was alone and his new wife was nowhere to be seen.

The youngest son grimaced as his hands attempted to push himself up, wincing in pain at the sharp sting he felt on his left arm, realizing it was in a cast. Struggling, he still managed to sit up, another surge of pain shot through him, making him groan.

His body was a patchwork of bandages, perhaps even cuts and bruises he hadn’t gotten a chance of looking at, the cast on his hand felt heavy. But not heavier than that anxious feeling weighing in his heart.

He glanced around at the emptiness of the room he was in a daze, confused, panicked. 

The door slid open, Secretary Kim, who Minho hadn’t seen since the day he found out about his mother, entered the room. Upon seeing him awake, the younger man rushed in, his face etched with a mixture of relief and distress.

   “Sir!” Yongguk exclaimed, hurrying to Minho’s side.

Minho attempted to rise, a sudden rush in his actions. But his legs felt weak, and he nearly toppled over before Yongguk steadied him. Minho’s eyes, filled with a desperate and pained intensity, searched for answers. Fingers clawing at the fabric of Yongguk’s jacket.

   “W-where’s Y/N?” Minho’s voice cracked as he barely managed to whisper, the horrifying image of her bloodied form haunting him.

Yongguk hesitated, his face falling as he braced himself to deliver the crushing news. “Miss Park… she’s—”

   “She’s what!?” Minho’s voice was a raw, desperate plea as he gripped Yongguk’s jacket with a tighter grip, his tears spilling over.

   “She hasn’t regained consciousness.” Yongguk said softly. “The impact of the accident was on the passenger side. She sustained critical injuries. Miss Park has been unconscious since the accident.”

The weight of the words crashed over Minho like a tidal wave. He slowly sank back onto the bed, his face a mask of pain. After a long silence, he wiped away his tears, his gaze piercing as he looked up at Secretary Kim.

   “Who did this?” Minho’s voice was barely more than a whisper, quivering with dread.

Minho knew.

His mind raced, fearing that this was no mere accident. His grandfather? Because he decided to leave? Or Jungshin? Getting revenge on him for the overseas slush funds? Perhaps even his uncle?

   “Lee Joohyeon.” Secretary Kim’s voice was grim.

Minho was surprised. 

No. 

He didn’t see this coming. He thought he didn’t ever have to worry about that idiot. Thought he took care of him, sending him away with his tail between his legs. But now the only person that Minho cared about was hanging between life and death because of him.

   “He had fled the scene.” Yongguk continued, his voice heavy with frustration. 

   “The authorities are trying to track him down, but he’s vanished.”

Minho’s hands clenched the bed sheets with white-knuckled fury, his eyes burning with a dangerous intensity.

    “Release the CCTV footage from the yacht.” The superior ordered, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

   “I want Joohyeon found. I’ll kill him myself.”

Yongguk swallowed. His form rigid as he took in the sight of his superior’s cold expression. He nodded, suddenly understanding the gravity of Minho’s command. Understanding the “risky” tasks he had been warned about.

   “I’ll take care of it, sir.” He found himself stating.

A sudden silence ensued. The secretary wondering if he should bring it up or not.

   “There’s more.” Yongguk added, hesitating. 

   “The Chairman had a heart attack after hearing the news.”

The chairman’s youngest son stared at nothingness as he processed the additional news. For a moment there was an unreadable emotion in his eyes before his gaze darkened.

   “That old man won’t die. He’s as stubborn as they come.” 

Minho was right.

The Chairman wouldn’t die so easily. 

As if Minho’s recovery was his medicine. Chairman Lee’s resilience was remarkable. Despite the heart attack, the news of Minho’s waking up, mostly fine and alive, seemed to invigorate him anew. 

The old man sat in his hospital bed, reading the news. He was angry, but after Secretary Cha came in with the news that Minho had woken up, the father felt fine, as if his heart was healed. 

Though it was a pity that Y/N Park was still in such a critical condition. As long as Minho was okay, it was solace enough for the greedy Chairman.

   “Secretary Cha.” Chairman Lee’s voice, though weakened, was still cold, authoritative.

   “Has Joohyeon been found yet?”

   “Not yet, sir. He’s injured, so he can’t stay hidden for long.”

   “Find him.” Chairman Lee ordered, his voice carrying sharply.

   “Yes, sir.” The secretary responded promptly.

   “Find him and deal with him.”

Secretary Cha blinked, a little taken aback. Even after working over thirty years for the Chairman, it was a first that the superior had ordered him to harm his own blood. But Lee Joohyeon had already been on thin ice because of his hand in Jae’s demise.

   “I will not tolerate anyone who harms my family.” Chairman Lee declared, his voice unwavering. 

   “Especially someone who attempted to kill my son.”

The Chairman’s words were cold. As if the man in question wasn’t his grandson. But some scum that was a threat to their lives.

The scum, Lee Joohyeon was painfully aware. Of course Joohyeon knew. 

Fully aware of the gravity of his situation, Minho’s awakening and the Chairman’s recovery had sealed his fate.

Oh, the things Minho had probably planned to do to him. The older “brother” knew what the youngest was capable of.

Chairman Lee had recovered and most definately would bury him alive.

Even Park Hyunmin wanted his head.

Lee Joohyeon had managed to anger three people that were capable of demolishing him. The threats against him were overwhelming.

He was better off in Japan. Exiled.

The second grandson made a fateful decision. A decision driven by fear. By his lack of choices, cornered.

Probably the best one in his pathetic life.

Wounded and desperate, he limped into the police station. He would rather surrender, than live with the relentless fear of being hunted down by his enemies.

At least he had some sense in him. 

───────────────────────

Minho gazed at his new bride, a sight that shattered him every time.

She wasn’t in the beautiful white dress she had chosen just for him. Instead, she lay in this hospital bed, littered in cuts and bruises, stitches and castings. An oxygen mask obscuring her face, while the relentless beeping of the heart rate monitor echoed in the oppressive silence.

Five agonizing days had passed, and still, Y/N hadn’t awakened.

The doctor’s words echoed in his mind. The longer she remained unconscious, the slimmer the chances of her waking up.

That thought terrified him more than he’d ever thought possible. He leaned closer to her bedside, taking her limp hand in his. Gently, he pressed his lips to her cold fingers, trying to hold back his tears. She looked so peaceful, almost serene in her stillness, a sight that only deepened the clench in his heart.

Still, an anger festered within him. Fueled by the knowledge that Lee Joohyeon had surrendered to the police while he sat here, helpless. 

He should’ve found that man first. Should’ve taken Joohyeon’s life for snatching away Y/N’s radiant smile.

Minho should’ve protected her.

Another promise he failed at keeping.

The Chairman’s heart attack ignited an inheritance battle between his two sons, unaware that neither had even been favored by the old man. 

The two sons sat down with the Chairman’s attorney, their greed barely masked by their feigned concern. They demanded the reading of the old man’s will. Even though he wasn’t even dead yet. 

Those greedy bastards.

   “I’ll just tell you myself.” A voice came from the doorway.

Mooyoung and Doyoung were surprised. Chairman Lee, seated in a wheelchair and pushed by Secretary Cha, entered the room. His expression contorted in annoyance and disdain.

   “You ungrateful fools couldn’t even wait for me to actually die.” He spat, his disappointment palpable

   “Father!” Mooyoung rushed to his side, his younger brother trailing behind.

   “It’s not like that.” Mooyoung stammered, trying to salvage his dignity. 

   “We just wanted to take precautions.”

   “Yes, brother is right.” Doyoung chimed by his side, attempting to justify their greed. 

   “Especially with everything that’s happened this week.” The brothers shared a glance.

The Chairman’s glare was unyielding, unconvinced. He looked past his sons to Attorney Goh, who stood by, waiting for instructions.

   “Attorney Goh.” The Chairman started.

    “Please, go ahead and tell them what I’ve decided. You have my permission.”

Although the lawyer didn’t have the document on him, he was familiar with its contents, especially after the numerous revisions. He had been relieved when he was told that the final draft was indeed final.

   “Chairman Lee has decided to give seventy-percent of his assets and shares of L Corp. and all businesses tied to L Corporation, to Lee Minho.”

The old man watched the expressions on his two sons’ faces fall. The shock on Mooyoung and Doyoung’s faces was immediate and profound. Their expressions darkened with disbelief and resentment.

   “Twenty percent will be divided between Lee Mooyoung and Lee Doyoung, with five percent allocated to Lee Jookshin, to her son, Chairman Lee’s great-grandson, five percent. Should something unfortunate happen to Lee Minho without an heir, the remaining assets will be sold, and the proceeds will be donated to charity.”

This new information shocked Mooyoung and Doyoung even more, hittling them like a sledgehammer. Anger flared in Mooyoung’s eyes as he turned to his father in his wheelchair. 

   “Father, how could you do that!?” Mooyoung’s voice trembled with fury.

Doyoung, though silent, was visibly seething. Falling into a silence as he began to ponder.

   “You built everything from the ground up. How can you just give it away to charity?” Mooyoung’s voice cracked with a mix of outrage and disbelief.

The Chairman’s eyes flared with anger. Already thinking about the what-ifs of Minho’s death.

   “Someone in this family tried to kill Minho. How else am I supposed to protect him?” He demanded with a glare.

Lee Mooyoung’s brow furrowed deeper, his frustration evident in his expression. “Why do you need to protect that bastard?”

The venom in Mooyoung’s words only served to further enrage both his fake father and The Chairman, his real father.

   “He’s my blood, Mooyoung.” the Chairman said with a chilling calmness.

The intensity of his gaze silenced Mooyoung, who took a step back, his anger turning to sullen defeat.

Lee Doyoung, however, was already plotting his next move. 

   “You’ve made a very wise decision, Father.” He said with a grin, clearly scheming about the potential shift in power, the change of ranks within the family.

   “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” The Chairman said coldly. 

   “If you think you can continue to exploit Minho, you’re a fool. He’s no longer the boy you could keep pressed under your thumb.”

Secretary Cha began to wheel the Chairman towards his bedroom.

   “He surpassed you a long long time ago.” His words seemed final.

Of course, Lee Doyoung didn’t grasp the gravity of his father’s words. He was, indeed, a fool. A fool who had made his way to the hospital where Minho sat by his new bride’s side. The new husband still clung to Y/N’s unconscious hand.

The hospital door slid open with an intrusive screech, jolting Minho. His gaze shifted from Y/N’s still form to the entrance, where Doyoung’s imposing figure appeared.

   “I knew I’d find you here.” The “father” declared, his eyes briefly flickering to Y/N before settling on Minho.

Yongguk ran closely behind, halting at the door and bowing deeply. 

   “I’m sorry, sir. I tried to stop him but—”

   “It’s okay. You can go.” Minho interrupted, his voice firm.

Doyoung’s eyes narrowed in irritation as he watched Yongguk exit. “What kind of secretary did you keep, that disrespectful fool—”

   “You’re the disrespectful fool.” Minho cut in, his tone icy and unyielding.

Lee Doyoung’s face twisted in disbelief. “How dare you speak to me like that!” He snapped, his anger bubbling over, suddenly recalling Chairman Lee’s words from earlier.

Minho was pissed. How much more shameless could he get? 

   “How dare you barge into my wife’s hospital room like this?” He said, his voice low, rage simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

   “Oh. You must have heard about the Chairman giving you seventy percent of the shares. That’s why you’re so cocky now, talking to your father so rudely?” Doyoung came to his own conclusions.

Minho’s eyes darkened further. And without warning, he shoved Doyoung against the door, the impact echoing through the room. He pinned Doyoung with his good arm, his face a mask of intense fury. The man under his grip stared back with bewilderment. A shock that made his face grow almost pale.

   “I don’t care about the shares of L Corp., Lee Doyoung.” Minho said, his voice a chilling whisper.

Doyoung’s eyes widened with shock at the way Minho addressed him. The intensity of Minho’s words left him momentarily speechless.

   “You’re not my father. You never were. The man you look up to so much, the one you’re so terrified of, set you up twenty-eight years ago and you didn’t even realize it.”

Doyoung’s anger surfaced on his face, shoving the injured man back. 

   “You ungrateful brat! The Lee family has taken care of you for all these years, and this is how you repay us?” He poked Minho’s chest, his voice dripping with venom.

Minho’s laughter was a bitter sound that filled the room, almost in disbelief.

   “Take care? You must be joking.” He said, his laughter abruptly stopping as his expression hardened.

   “The Lee family made a mess of itself. Don’t blame me. Rather, you should be grateful I had been there to clean up your messes. Or you would have fallen a long time ago.”

Doyoung’s realization that Minho was no longer a pawn but a force to be reckoned with was dawning on him. A realization he made after being humiliated. He suddenly understood, Minho would no longer be controlled, instead would be the one in command now.

   “Son, listen—” Doyoung began, his voice trembling.

   “I’m not your son, Lee Doyoung.” Minho cut him off coldly. 

   “And I don’t want to hear your rambling.”

Doyoung’s face paled with sudden anxiety as he looked up at Minho, who now seemed towering over him.

Minho leaned in, his breath hot against Doyoung’s ear. 

   “Make sure to tell that pathetic Joohyeon, that I was the one who sent those threatening texts.” He whispered, pulling back to watch Doyoung’s face contort with shock and horror.

Minho’s laughter, dark and menacing, filled the space as he opened the hospital room door and forcefully shoved Doyoung out. The door shut with a faint slam, and Minho closed his eyes, his jaw clenched in frustration.

It was one thing after another. The reporters wouldn’t stop calling him, Chairman Lee kept trying to contact him, the company couldn’t get anything done without him.

All he wanted was Y/N to be by his side.

Awake.

   “Min...ho.” A soft, fragile voice called out.

His eyes flew open, and he turned to see Y/N slowly turning her head toward him. His heart leaped as he rushed to her side. She weakly tugged at the oxygen mask, removing it with trembling hands.

   “Y/N!” Minho’s voice cracked with emotion, tears pricking in his eyes.

She tried to smile despite the pain, her tear-filled eyes meeting his as he held her hand to his lips, letting out a sob of relief. 

   “I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered with his cries.

   “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She murmured, tears mingling with her smile as she watched him break into a vulnerable chuckle, crying into their loose grasp of entangled fingers.

───────────────────────

The youngest son of the Lee family might have been on the lowest ranks when it came to the members of the family, but he was now the only one capable enough to run L Corporation. 

Lee Minho was the only one left. Mooyoung and Doyoung guessed it correctly, their times of pushing around Minho had come to an end. They were forced to acknowledge Minho’s authority, bow down to someone decades younger than them. 

Bow down to their younger brother. Though they never found that out.

The youngest son had been ready to leave behind the Lee family and L Corp. altogether. But after the accident, a realization dawned. 

Without the power and influence that came with his role, he could not truly protect those he cherished.

Protect Y/N.

The Chairman had practically begged Minho to return. His declining health, suddenly made him desperate perhaps. He could not bear to watch L Corp. crumble because of the rotten sons he unfortunately fathered. 

His company. His child. 

Minho went back.

But of course it came with clauses.

There were going to be significant changes in the dynamics of the so-called family he grew up in. A revenge in its own.

A change that amused the youngest son plenty, unable to hide his sinister smile as he stared at the faces of all those who looked down at him. The disgust-laced gazes were suddenly filled with desperation. A look he enjoyed the sight of.

Lee Jihoon, who had always wanted to live his life away from the spotlight of the Lee family, was free to do so. He took that opportunity to leave for his next trip to South America. Last anyone had heard from him, he was road tripping through Brazil. Though he did keep in touch with Y/N from time to time.

Lee Jookshin didn’t interact much with anyone in the Lee family following her brother’s fall from grace. Her interactions became sparse, her presence a distant figure.

Lee Jungshin, tainted by the scandal of the slush-fund fiasco, chose to disappear after learning of the potential prison sentence for money laundering. He fled overseas, with his mother in tow.

As for Lee Joohyeon, his fate was sealed with the weight of multiple crimes. Convicted not only of attempted murder but also of manslaughter in Jae’s death years earlier, Joohyeon’s downfall came swiftly. 

Prosecutors received an anonymous email with the yacht CCTV footage. Then a few days later, the chip containing Lee Jae’s car dashcam evidence showed up on the lead detective’s desk. 

As if it all came with the wind.

Minho’s ascend to the presidency of L Corp. was solidified with the success of The Rose Garden Resort, a testament to his leadership and vision. His victories affirmed his place as a formidable figure in both business and the family.

Chairman Lee rejoiced, as if he had planned everything from the beginning.

Except he didn’t plan another heart attack.

This one however, kept him tied to the hospital bed for the next three years.

───────────────────────

Lee Minho walked into his new office, its grandeur evident in the bright white walls and gold-framed paintings. His fingers brushed over the crystal plaque bearing his name.

Chairman Lee Minho. 

He paused, feeling the weight of his new title settle around him. Uncertainty and pride mingled within him. He did not know how to feel. He had once wanted this position. Only for the sole purpose to drive the company to the ground.

Yet, now that he was here, he found himself hesitating.

A knock on the glass door drew him from his thoughts. He turned to find Secretary Kim, greeting him.

   “I’ve declined the invitation from the directors for a celebration as you requested.” Yongguk reported.

The new chairman nodded, looking out of the large window once again.

   “There’s also a gala hosted by the Director of Yeom Arts tomorrow evening. I’ve arranged your schedule around it.” Yongguk continued.

Minho turned with a raised eyebrow. “Yeom Arts…Isn’t that where the Hwangs married into?” He tried to recall, to which his secretary nodded.

   “Their second son Hwang Hyunjin married Director Yeom earlier this year.” Secretary Kim clarified.

Minho let out a nonchalant “hmm”, already lost interest.

   “Madame Park has arrived and is waiting in the lobby.” The secretary continued.

The mention of Y/N brought a genuine smile to Minho’s face. The only one he wanted to celebrate with.

His family.

Heading to the lobby, Minho’s heart lightened at the sight of Y/N. Her presence already made him relax into a familiar comfort. She beamed as he approached, and Minho’s smile widened in return. Then his gaze flickered down to the approaching patters of small feet.

   “Daddy!”

Minho instinctively crouched down to catch his two year old running towards him, into his arms. Her laughter erupted as he scooped her up, his grin wide. 

   “Did you miss me princess?” The father asked, his voice full of warmth.

Y/N approached the father-daughter duo, reaching over and gently brushed back the little girl’s hair.

   “She got really excited when I told her we’re having dinner outside today.” 

Minho laughed, holding his daughter close before reaching for Y/N’s hand.

   “Let’s go.” He smiled softly.

There was a time the youngest son had doubted his capabilities as a father. But now, looking at the admiration in his daughter’s eyes as she played with his tie, made his heart swell.

Minho didn’t know what being a good father looked like. He had never seen a true example of one in his life.

The father figures, the fake, the real, had never embodied the qualities of a good father that Minho had glimpsed throughout his life of other children, of his siblings.

But he swore. To himself, to his then unborn child in the quiet of the night when Y/N had long drifted into her slumber.

He would be a good father. He would try to be a good father. He would do everything his fake father, his real father, hadn’t done.

Minho read the baby book. Studying it with such intensity that it felt like he might tear it apart.

Y/N would giggle, brushing back his hair as she pulled away the glasses that had been perched on his nose. A soft graze of her fingers that brought him out of his thoughts.

   “Are you planning on getting a PhD on newborn babies?” She laughed, settling on the edge of his desk.

Minho shook his head, closing the book before staring at her with a new intensity. His eyes darted from her soft expression to her stomach. Deep in thought once again.

   “Don’t be so nervous. We have plenty of time to prepare. I’m sure everything will be alright.” His wife’s words were reassuring, her smile unwavering.

He rolled his chair closer, sighing as he took her hand into his, attempting to thin his lips into a smile as he nodded.

But Minho was afraid. Still afraid that he wouldn’t be a good father. That he couldn’t be a good father. He was a mess of a man who was the outcome of a disastrous family line. An embarrassment he didn’t have the courage to even admit let alone bring up.

Minho knew he would be protective, just as he was with Y/N, the love of his life, the only person he truly cared for. He knew he would stand by his child’s side, watching over them and keeping them close. But he wasn’t sure if he could truly love them.

The youngest son had always claimed he didn’t know what love was. For a long time, he didn’t understand what it felt like to be loved. Not until Y/N had entered his life. 

Even then, he didn’t know that the feeling clenching in his heart whenever she hurt herself, whenever someone spoke ill of her was protectiveness. 

The sour taste in his mouth when hearing her name connected. To another’s, seeing her attached to someone else, was jealousy.

The overwhelming fear of losing her was, in fact, love. Nothing but love. Something he took too long to recognize, nearly losing her in the process.

But perhaps the cries were all he needed to hear.

The pure, innocent wails of a newborn that echoed, loud in his ears. A call to the world that she was finally here. A part of him, a part of Y/N. Evidence of the love he swore he didn’t know about.

And all his worries, his nervousness that he had bottled up during the months before she had arrived, melted in an instant. And the new father suddenly knew that he was going to be fine.

Lee Minho would make an excellent father, one that he had never known.

───────────────────────

Lee Minho was an excellent father. But he could never be a good son.

He would never be a good son. Both to the fake and the real.

The former Chairman had been bed bound ever since his second heart attack. The stillness of the hospital room was both suffocating, but serene.

Secretary Cha entered quietly. Like he did every day, a routine he had fallen into over the past three years. But this time he had a somber expression on his face.

The old man lay in bed, his movements slow and breaths labored, an oxygen mask over his nose.

   “Did Minho refuse to visit again?” The old man asked in a raspy whisper.

Secretary Cha’s silence answered him. The former Chairman managed a small, knowing smile.

   “Call him for me.” The old man requested, his voice strained.

Secretary Cha made the call. Minho didn’t pick up the first time, nor the second. By the fourth ring on the third attempt, his voice finally came through, cold and detached.

   “Chairman Lee, your father wanted to see you. He wanted to congratulate you in person.”

Minho’s silence was followed by a laugh, harsh and dismissive. 

   “Tell the old man to stick to the deal we made. Don’t contact me for such trivial matters.”

The call ended abruptly. Secretary Cha looked at the former Chairman, who continued to gaze at the ceiling. A faint smile spread across the old man’s face.

   “My son.” He murmured, his voice a mix of pride and resignation.

   “He’s achieved what he set out to do... reach the very top.”

The old man coughed, turning his head to meet Secretary Cha’s sympathetic eyes.

   “Perhaps it’s time for you to retire, Cha Wonshik.” Former Chairman Lee said softly.

Secretary Cha hesitated before nodding, his pity evident. “Go prepare for you granddaughter’s wedding.” The Chairman added weakly.

After a heavy silence and Secretary Cha’s hesitant exit, the room fell silent once more, the only sound the steady beep of the heart monitor.

The former Chairman stared up at the ceiling again, at the bright light and slowly whispered to himself.

   “My youngest son…is stubborn, he is arrogant, he is conniving. But he’s always done a very good job hiding it all behind his mask. He’s a master at mind games.” He attempted to chuckle to himself.

His laughs morphed into labored coughs. Former Chairman Lee took a strained deep breath, and whispered once more.

   “Lee Minho is…”

His voice trailed off into silence, the heart monitor’s beep stretching into an unending, haunting note.

Minho walked into the private dining room of the restaurant, his gaze softening as he saw Y/N and their daughter seated at the table. He placed his phone down and slid back into his seat.

Y/N looked up from her meal, her eyes curious. 

   “Who was that?” She eyed the phone he had discarded atop of the table.

Minho gave a reassuring smile, shaking his head.

   “Not important—How’s the food?” He easily changed the subject.

Y/N had always been one to easily read Minho’s expressions, his body language. And although she was aware that it was more than just a “not important” phone call, that his shrug as he sat down was to shake off her worries, she just smiled in return, nodding as she took another bite.

Minho’s gaze shifted to their daughter, who was happily making a mess with her food. Pasta sauce smeared across her lips which made her father chuckle, his eyes creasing into crescent-moons. Y/N watched as her husband leaned over to gently brush back their daughter’s hair and wipe the mess from her face, his eyes filled with the same warmth and affection he showed when he was with Y/N.

She watched Minho with a tender smile.

Lingering.

And for a split second, her expression wavered.

Y/N’s smile faltered.

Just for a fleeting moment though.

A millisecond of uncertainty.

A millisecond of something else.

Her husband glanced back up at her, hand reaching over to caress hers. Minho smiled. The genuine ones she loved seeing on him, one that she returned with her own wide grin.

Lee Minho is… just like his father, isn’t he?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.

── thanks for reading! - @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23, @tsunderelino, @thecutiepieme, @candyquokka

[livi-in-digital-circus]

10 Bunnydoll story ideas

(free to use because I have a writer block and a hard time at school)

– Jax is a celebrity that everyone loves, except Ragatha, who openly despises him. Secretly, she is actually his crazy obsessed fan who stalks him almost 24/7

– Years ago, Jax and Ragatha had an affair and since then their paths have diverged. Now they meet again and Jax quickly realizes that Ragatha is not the same sweet rag dolly she used to be, especially since she is now a single mother

– Caine organizes a quiz show about Ragatha for her birthday (imagine they celebrate birthdays) and Jax doesn't want to participate. In the end, it turns out that he knows the answer to every single question, at the same time revealing that they are in a relationship

– Jax and Ragatha have been a couple for quite some time. At some point, the rabbit starts to suspect that his girlfriend might be thinking about starting a family, which makes him a little uneasy. One day, everyone except him and Ragatha turns into babies, while Caine magically disappears and they automatically have to take care of their friends

– One day a child arrives at the Digital Circus. Confused and frightened, it gets "adopted" by Ragatha, who takes care of it and treats it as if it were her real child, which also makes Jax jealous. Later it turns out that this is in fact Ragatha's son/daughter that she had before she got trapped in the circus. After finding out, Jax has a hard time accepting it

– Similar to the previous one, there's a new addition to the circus. This time it's Jax's girlfriend from the real world. Slowly they rebuild their relationship, which Ragatha quickly notices and gets sad because she and Jax recently started to get closer. She tries to make friends with his girlfriend but fails as the girl hates people like Ragatha

– Everyone thinks that abstracting is like death. But when Ragatha abstracts, her subconscious comes back to her body in the real world and she wakes up in a hospital. For the first few weeks, she feels alone, although she is reunited with her relatives and former friends. One day she runs into a guy who seems very familiar for some reason. Later, it turns out that Jax also abstracted and got sent back to the real world

– Ragatha is a teacher's pet who is often bullied by the school's most famous troublemaker, Jax. When she meets some guy online, she befriends him and even develops a crush on him. Little does she know that it's actually Jax, who also has no idea that it's Ragatha he's been texting all along

– There is a Valentine's Day event and the circus members are sent on a special adventure where a mischievous cupid is hiding somewhere on the map. Jax tries his best to avoid him, as it turns out that cupid has the ability to make someone deeply in love with the first person they see after being hit by the arrow. Later, Jax notices Ragatha's strange behavior and suspects that she is the one affected, so he tries to ignore her as much as possible. But he also feels different and doesn't know why. In the end, it turns out that it wasn't Ragatha who got hit, but Jax

– A Halloween adventure where Jax and Ragatha are trapped in a haunted house. Unlike the rag doll, the rabbit isn't scared at all, since the monsters there are just some silly looking NPCs. However, the scariest thing happens when they are suddenly separated and the worst events of their lives as humans are presented to them. After they reunite and leave the haunted house, they feel a strong need to comfort each other (and beat the shit out of Caine when it comes to Jax)

Let me know if you like any of these ideas and feel free to use them! <3

[cissa-calls]

Foreword to Agatha All Along

After years of waiting, tomorrow witches, marks the anticipated start to Agatha All Along! But, before the first two episodes stream, it's time to take one last crack at discussing some possible theories (and hopes) for the series:

Akin to how Wandavision was an exploration of American Television sitcoms, this series is partially an exploration of depictions of witchcraft and referential to horror in pop culture (the Witched Witch and Glinda from the Wizard of Oz).

Is Rio dead? How does she seem to emerge from the ground on the side of the witches road? Did she and Agatha try to walk it long ago, and Rio perished, thus she is now trapped there forever?

At some point, Agatha will end up alone. She will be walking alone because either everyone has died, or those remaining leave. This however will not be indefinite.

Conversely, it could also recall the beginning when it was just her and the teen, but just the two of them make it out.

I keep thinking of that scene with her and the teen in the metal room, where they both appear to be in patient gowns. Are they in facilities at S.W.O.R.D.? Is the teen crying because Agatha is making him walk through memories and realize his identity?

Agatha's knowledge of the road is either from the Darkhold or what Evanora taught (or rather tried to keep from her daughter).

As a green witch, Rio is connected to plants. Her costume quite literally looks like vines and roots growing are forming the bodice. Are plants relevant in the sense of bloom and regeneration? Or rather decay and withering?

Using, dismantling, subverting, or cannonizing of symbols or tools of witchcraft. From kitschy to terrifying.

The hooded figures who appear in front of the teen, is there one for each member of the coven? Is it a haunted form of themselves, or a twisted appartion assigned to capture each?

Part of this story is found family, and Agatha's fear of comraderie. Built off a lifetime of distrust, backstabbing, and taking, Agatha has to learn to trust. In a similar vein, Agatha has no sense of comfort or home.

The scene where Agatha's face is covered in small cuts or splatters of blood. Either that is the cataylst to a glorifying rise near the end of the show, or a horrifying turn of seemingly irredemtion.

Rio was once Agatha's companion, her only companion. A betrayal between the two sent Agatha into permanent solitude.

I sincerely hope this show explores horror and gives into the darkness that Multiverse of Madness teased. Comic relief is a needed presence, but the tone is overall geared towards darker themes and storylines

Speaking of darkness - night! The majority of this series will take place at night! At least the juicy and important scenes.

DOES AGATHA POSSESS THE DARKHOLD AGAIN OR WAS ITS APPEARANCE IN A FLASHBACK

When Agatha was young and on the run, she was targeted for possessing the Darkhold.

Rio and Agatha...history may call them the best of friends.

The Ballad of the Witche's Road might be sung in several versions/genre's (we've already heard two)

More lyrics of the ballad will be revealed and sung as the story progresses.

The Witches Road may be terrible, but it is a unifying force as it welcomes everyone. Remember the lyrics: "Seekest thou the road, all that's foul and fair," the road is a living thing, inviting everyone but casting judgement on those who can achieve

I will cry at some point. I am certain this will break me just as Wandavision broke me.

The glowing tree in the middle of the Witch's Road has something hidden beneath and growing within the roots. (Is it the heart of the Road, because it is a living legend?)

Each of the witches will have to confront their greatest fears manifested as scenes, memories, or landscapes of their personal hells. Only when they begin to trust each other or confront/admit their weakness can their proceed. Agatha would obviously have the final and hardest challenge.

Without her magic, such a core tenant of her identity and confidence, Agatha will be even more combatative and threatening (borne entirely out of insecurity).

Agatha's cameo, and the lock of hair in it, is a reminder of her humanity and connection.

At some point, Agatha will break, spilling out centuries worth of every held back, messy emotion (and Kathryn Hahn will SERVE).

Perhaps it is based on the obvious Eve allegory, but there will be more biblical allegories or subversions. Is Agatha being born anew?

Teen and Señor Scratchy bond. It is likely a trauma bond. (The rabbit may also gain a more horrifying form or eat an entire monster/adversary)

Elaborate outfit reveal. ELABORATE FINALE COSTUME OUTFIT REVEAL! AGATHA ACHIEVES ENLIGHTMENT AND HER MOST POWERFUL FORM WHEN SHE FINALLY RECLAIMS HER MAGIC...possibly foiling Wanda when she became the Scarlet Witch.

This is not an exhaustive list, but it will be interesting to compare these ideas to how the show actually plays out. In all of this excitement, there is still a touch of trepidation. After pouring so much love into counting down the days to release and yielding art, writing, research, and costumes for this character, Agatha has remained a fun force of exploration and expression for me. However, the excitement over seeing where Kathryn Hahn takes the character next assuages any and all fears, as we finally will confront who exactly Agatha was all along.

Get ready witches, it's time to walk the road.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

hi! I'm new to the beatles lore and I've been trying to catch up on an insane level of information for weeks. it's been fun but also heartbreaking 💔💔 anyways, I wanted to ask a couple of questions if that's ok? for example, I keep seeing this narrative that john was using yoko as some sort of weapon against paul... what was john trying to achieve by that I mean where does this idea even come from? according to this, john was hurting paul on purpose while he was singing him love songs in the studio asking him to be partners again (as in songwriting creative partners) WHAT WOULD JOHN ACHIEVE DOING THAT? also it sounds very one sided like paul is the most innocent in the break up eventho he was the one who came up with a secret album and a lawsuit. I don't know what to think. before knowing them I used to think lennon was in love and on drugs so he got so annoying to the point that he broke up the band but now...

Hi there! Welcome to the fandom! don't worry about feeling overwhelmed at first there is a LOT to take in.

I want to say, I do get the feeling you are somewhat mixing things up here, though I don't particularly blame you for being confused. (if not then sorry! just want to clarify as much as I can)

Tedious as it sounds, I find keeping a timeline in my mind (ideally, accurate to the month) helpful to provide some clarity regarding the breakup era specifically, so the period of 1968-1971. John's studio taunting you're referring to would have happened between mid '68 and mid '69, but Paul worked on his solo album (what I presume you meant by "his secret album", though it wasn't all that secret – John had already released solo music of his own by that point*) in late '69 and early '70. He filed a lawsuit against the others in late '70.

*I think you're conflating the album itself with the fact that, along with the release of McCartney (said album), Paul "surprise revealed" he had quit the band to the public, which the other band members, especially John, were not impressed with.

That being said, the events of the breakup are still convoluted at best, even to "seasoned" fans, I'd say. One of my main pieces of advice I can provide as someone who's been doing this for more than 3 years is get comfortable with not knowing things and with some of the actors involved doing something fundamentally irrational sometimes. They're humans, they don't always make sense and they won't always be forthcoming about why they behaved the way they did.

Which brings me to the narratives you mention: I say this as nicely as possible, but sometimes people want to tell themselves the best story rather than the most truthful one. It's more important to some that John is taunting Paul out of some twisted form of love than why specifically.

To answer your question regarding where this particular idea comes from, I would say: Paul has indicated that he felt John replaced him with Yoko (in whatever way he meant by that – some think it's sexual, some it's about creative partnership, or simply as a best friend); John's behaviour clearly and drastically shifted for the worse in mid '68, which is around the time he got together with Yoko, left his family, and started doing heroin; footage from Get Back shows John both all over Yoko and trying to reach out to Paul periodically.

There's probably more, but I don't know if there's much point in getting into the weeds of it right now. My point is: it's not the only valid theory, IMO, and probably not the whole truth if it is true, but it's not unfounded.

I think it may be a misstep to dismiss a theory because "what would John achieve by that?" Again, people are not always acting in a way that strictly makes sense, especially not people with the issues John struggled with. Some people might say John was testing Paul, trying to make him fight for him. Some might say John had an outright sadistic streak. Others that he was too out of it to notice the pain he was inflicting on others. I think it could very easily be a mix of all three. When dealing with human emotions, I personally think it's a mistake to assume things are simple and straightforward, which is why a lot of tinhattery turns me off. It very often feels like a blanket-statement self-confirming axiom, rather than a truly thoughtful and multifaceted argument.

My most condensed version of events would be: John became incredibly difficult to work with in multiple ways (including but not limited to bringing Yoko to the studio) by mid '68; Paul, for the most part, tried to accomodate him, to diminishing returns, while having his own longterm relationship fall apart and being completely in over his head running a brandnew business; Paul deals with distress by burying himself in work, the other three do not – this leads to further conflict, along with issues over creative control; the band decide they need a new manager type to help them out with their new business and provide the guidance they haven't had since Brian died; cue John wanting Klein and only Klein and massively distrusting Paul's "nepo" choice of Eastman + apparently not trusting Paul's belief that Klein was bad news; extreme resentment over money issues which are incredibly underrated by the fandom because at their core they are boring, emotionally, ensue; John decides he's "over" the band and tells the others he's out; Paul is destroyed over this (and everything that led up to it), spends months spiraling and recording his album; wanting to get this all out of the way, Paul finally breaks down and admits he's leaving the Beatles to the world and to the band itself, even though he had asked John to stay quiet about his own quitting the band months earlier; John (understandably, IMO, though I don't blame Paul exactly – this is what I mean by not everything makes perfect sense) assumes Paul is using the band breakup for PR and gets a hell of a lot angrier than he already is about the money stuff; John undergoes primal therapy which opens up about 43273289635298 wounds; John does an interview in which he spills his guts and tears down almost everyone in his life except Yoko; meanwhile more financial issues. I cannot overstate that those matter too, tumblr is just not a place where finance peeps hang out; Paul is getting more and more fed up with all of this and he, as a last resort, files a lawsuit to no longer be legally tied to the others.

I for the most part left out George and Ringo here* and I'm writing off memory here without re-checking sources, so take what I say with a massive grain of salt. My main point is that this shit is complicated and don't let people tell you it isn't.

*I'm of the opinion that John and Paul are at the center of the breakup, but they also aren't the be-all, end-all of it. But because in the end George and Ringo fell "in line" with John and you didn't ask about them, I decided to mostly leave them out.

[phoenixkaptain]

If you're taking prompts, could you write something about Tim being the most spiteful, feral teenager ever and the rest of his family wondering why the hell everyone presumes he's the sweet, well behaved one?

This isn’t precisely what you requested, but I did have an idea of something similar a little while ago! Only, it’s Tim being terrifying and everyone in his family realizing it, but Tim not understanding what they’re talking about.

I never finished it entirely, but I’ll share the opener, since I think it has the vibe:

Tim felt like he was perpetually exhausted. He’d felt this way since he was three-years-old and trying to work out the confusing mess of emotions that came with watching two people die the first time he went to the circus. His parents offered no support. In fact, they seemed to believe he would just get over it on his own.

Really, and people wondered why he became Robin. As though he was normal. Ugh.

The exhaustion had only gotten worse over the years. With every problem he solved, more anxieties crept into his mind, poisoning his thoughts. He couldn’t sleep unless he passed out. He could barely breathe when he saw any of his so-called “siblings.” Ra’s Al Ghul was still sending him thinly veiled threats, or maybe they were abnormal declarations of affection? Bruce seemed to think so.

Anyway, Tim was tired. There were times when he wasn’t, of course. There were times when he fought alongside Kon and Bart and Cassie, just like old times, and they all devolved into acting like fifteen-year-olds. Fighting criminals still gave him a sense of living, something he intellectually knew was adrenaline but also didn’t care. There was the thrill of a case solved, a plan gone correctly, his teammates working in harmony with him.

He probably should’ve been worried about it all. The only times he felt alive were when he was in mortal danger, after all. But, he’d come to accept that he might’ve lost a few screws when he let Ra’s Al Ghul kick him out of a building without full-proof backup. Even before then, really. He kinda tuned into it when he realized that he was trying to pull a mad scientist and clone his best friend.

Tim was very aware of himself. He could be suave and charming, but he was mostly a perpetually slouching young man with his hair grown out and his clothes mostly being stolen from his friends. He could keep up his poker face all the way to his death. He could lie to Batman. He faced death every evening and ran towards it.

He still remembered when Kon muttered that he was creepy. Tim still maintained that Kon shouldn’t have gotten distracted to the point that he didn’t notice Tim’s presence until Tim was right in front of him. Kon retorted that he had been eating cereal at the Kents’ farmhouse and that Tim shouldn’t have dramatically appeared from a shadowy corner. Tim told him that if they didn’t want people to dramatically emerge from a shadowy corner, they shouldn’t have any shadowy corners to begin with. Kon asked if Tim thought the Kents could afford lamps to put in all the corners of their house. Bart told them to stop arguing because even he wasn’t capable of following their leaps of logic.

Tim didn’t believe he was scary. Not like Batman or Nightwing (Nightwing was occasionally scary… when Dick felt like being so). Definitely not on Red Hood’s level, because Tim would have to be a criminal to be on Red Hood’s level. He was criminally disadvantaged when it came to comparing himself to Robin because Robin carried around swords. Oracle was a force of pure evil when angered. Black Bat was just scary in general.

Honestly, compared to anyone else in Gotham, Tim believed he was the one rogues worried about the least. He hardly ever went out, honestly, so they probably all forgot about him.

(There were some rumours, spread amongst the criminal underground, that there was a Gotham vigilante who was never caught on camera. Who was impossible to see coming and even more difficult to keep track of. Rumours said this vigilante wasn’t human, was metahuman or worse. They said the vigilante must’ve fallen in battle, because the vigilante suddenly reappeared like a demon, attacking ruthlessly and yet… Still no images of him. The rumours said he was a ghost, a vampire, or maybe even a demon.

Tim figured they were just being dramatic and told Dick to stop telling him about weird things that didn’t relate to anything. He’d asked if Dick knew why Hood kept laughing at him every time Tim saw him recently, not if Dick knew any fairy tales among criminals. Dick had stared at him blankly for a long time, then turned on his heel and left. Tim wondered if it was a bonding tactic. He wondered why Dick thought he needed to use bonding tactics on him. Tim was pretty sure any extra bonding was just overdoing it.)

Tim didn’t think much of himself in general, but in comparison to the other vigilantes in Gotham? There was no way he held even a candle to them.

Or, at least, he assumed.

[mystmesstolemysoul]

me: Seven...?

707: ye?

me: how much does Zen hate cats?

707: oh, he doesn't actually hate them, he just gets violently ill

me: oh thank God. I have three cats I'm unwilling to part with, and if Zen threatens that it won't work out.

zen: *long-suffering sigh (except it's a struggle because he can't breathe out of his nose because cats)*

[konfizry]

because who's gonna vouch for her existence? who can say for sure that she is a real person who existed, say, 5 months prior to the game's events?

no one!!!!!

[killjoy-prince]

Ray's After Ending is so funny because for a good chunk of it, most of the RFA members are knocked out by V's sleeping gas (Saeran is immune, Saeyoung isn't present bc he was kidnapped by his agency under his father's orders and MC wakes up in like an hour) but the game has a call feature where you can call the characters and it would be a waste if you couldn't use it bc the characters were unavailable so instead they have other people pick up the call (Jumin's driver picks up Jumin's phone, Jumin's father picks up Zen's phone, Yoosung's friends and mom pick up Yoosung's phone and Jaehee's coworkers pick up Jaehee's phone) and we do get to learn about the characters from outsider's point of view but it's so funny to me that these people are visiting their loved ones and suddenly the phone rings and they decide to just. answer it. and start talking to this stranger they've never met

[thingsidonethunked]

Fitz's 'not-so-secretely secretly queer family member/friend' energy, where everybody around him knows but just doesn't say anything, either because he's not ready to accept it himself, or because it wouldn't help anything/doesn't really matter and doesn't impact how they feel about him anyway.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok is no doubt the best off amongst the main crew when it comes to his life post-Voyager. His wife and children are still there, he won’t have any personally complicated feelings to sort out about Starfleet (other than its treatment of the Maquis he served with and Seven of Nine but again he seems to be very loyal to Starfleet as a baseline and generally willing to give them the benefit of the doubt) and he’s got that Vulcan emotional control. However, I do wonder what being seen as the one who’s got it all together would have on him. I can easily imagine other members of Voyager’s crew casually asserting that Tuvok is doing well, better, the best compared to all of them. He’s got nothing to complain about, does he? Now that his illness has been cured. I can imagine this was also the case on Voyager. Tuvok’s gonna be fine in the end, he’s Vulcan and he never seems to be affected by all the weird and disturbing shit that happens to us. Tuvok himself likely adds to this perception of himself because I imagine it’s easier to lean into the idea that you’re above any potential damage you might’ve sustained when there’s so much of it. If you assert hard enough that you’re fine, you’re mature, you’re Vulcan, and everyone around you seems to affirm that then maybe you don’t have to work through everything. Especially when there’s so much, more than you’ve ever experienced in your life, and time is so limited.

Vulcans have very volatile emotions and have to process them carefully in order to function. I can’t imagine that Voyager, the horrorship with ten disasters a day, (all of which concern you as its inhabitant and security officer) is conducive to being able to completely internalize and accept your emotions especially when you’ve just lost essentially your entire support network (immediately after being undercover) and are surrounded by aliens who you’re not allowed (culturally and also because you’re sort of stubborn and reclusive) to be fully honest with and lean on for that support. (It would be a weakness, you might think. Not for them, they’re humans but you are not human. You can handle things on your own.) It’s just you and you alone really. No one to turn to, no one who you think might understand and help you the (Vulcan) way you need.  But also again I don’t think Tuvok would dwell on this much on Voyager because there’s nothing he can change about it so it’d be illogical and very unhelpful. Also because the idea that he’s unaffected is ‘good’ for him (better than the alternative which wounds his self-image and also to an extent ship morale <- latter is somewhat of an excuse, in his nightmares he can hear people gossiping that even the Vulcan’s losing it.) and his general personality is one that is obviously prideful to the point of others calling him arrogant or holier-than-thou. Tuvok would definitely take being seen as unfaltering and unflappable (undamaged) to anything else. Anything less. He can do a bit of unintentional self-mythologizing as a treat instead of therapy. It would help him feel like he’s still himself, still Vulcan, still whole. However, when he’s back in the alpha quadrant and amongst other Vulcans, people who are allowed to and do know him intimately (or even strangers who are just the same species as him and thus are not encumbered by preconceived alien notions of Vulcans) I bet this facade of being unaffected by everything would come crumbling down fairly quickly. 

[cherry-shipping]

not that id ever want a job, and in reality if me and sans lived together hed probably be the one mostly responsible for our income on account of his countless fucked up jobs, BUT. i love the thought of sans being a cute shitty little househusband sending me off to work with a kiss and a lunchbox except the lunchbox is just, like, a compact bomb of as many sausages and a gross slurry of a million fucked up condiments as he could fit in there