#I think about this series entirely too much

[randomwriting]

Love Letters I Won’t Send

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: In the midst of summertime heat and breakdowns, you find yourself falling in love with all the people around you. (some, more than others.)

A/N 💌: I intend to make this a series, haven’t decided if I should make it fully Poly!Marauders x Reader or not yet, so let me know what you think!

Also this is my first fic ever so kindness & reblogs are sincerely appreciated 💕

Beneath the annoyance permeating the halls of Hogwarts, and infesting every common room but the ones conveniently hidden under wonderfully cool lakes, (an amenity you were not jealous of at all), there was an amazingly rare heat wave sweeping over the entirety of scotland. You had to admit, the timing could not have been worse.

The unrelenting heat was the worst in the Gryffindor dorms, where some of the residents had begun looking an awful lot like one of their house colors. This unexpected side effect meant that dorms were essentially uninhabitable, and swarms of students had taken to the courtyard, the common room, or the halls, in refuge. And since hiding from your lingering feelings in your dorm was no longer a viable option, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas had been forced to drag you out into an open space where you were far too susceptible to seeing the three boys you had been avoiding like the plague.

“You are going to bloody fucking kill yourself if you do not get out of that room.” Marlene practically shouted at you, after yet another failed attempt to free you from the boiling temperatures of your bedroom. Her exasperation with you, general fury with the world, and hatred of the weather was a dangerous combination. One you couldn't entirely fault her for.

“I'd sooner die than have to face those men, marls.” you heard her grumble something along the lines of “Merlins fucking beard” at your response.

“Look, I know this whole thing is complicated and whatnot, but you are driving yourself mad, holed up in a ridiculously hot room, overthinking about James, Sirius and Remus, when you should be swimming, or living, or fucking someone else to get over them!”

“I agree. You are too pretty and smart and funny and frankly too fucking hot to be sitting here moping.” Lily chimes in, smiling at you, unrelenting in her beliefs, you take a second, in the midst of the chaos, to admire her smile. The ridiculously engaging quality of her shiny teeth, the perfection of her skin and the red hair that floats around her in the sun, too much like a halo for you not to take note. It is so easy to love her. All of them, really. You only wish, quietly, that it was so easy for you to be loved. The way everyone knows Mary loves Lily, the palpable way you all can feel how Marlene loves Dorcas. It radiates under the surface of the whole group and flows further out into the school, they radiate love, and you feel it, in that brief and wondrous moment before you have to face the world, you ask yourself how on earth you got so lucky, that they might tolerate you enough to allow you this close to the masterpiece of their friendships and lives.

“Okay.” You relent, soft yet reluctant, as you come back to the present, a feeling of inadequacy settling heavily on your shoulders and in your lungs, “I'll leave the room but I'm bringing a book, and I insist on snacks and enormous amounts of lemonade if I'm being forced out into the wild.” You allow them to pull you up and out of the sweltering room, only because you’re not entirely convinced you won’t be able to simply meander away into some obscure hallway, cooled by the touch of the century old stone in refuge, the moment Dorcas and Marlene begin to notice just how little clothing there is between the two of them due to the immense heat. You stare ahead as you walk down through the common room, shoulders tense with something indescribable. Lily notices it, she also noticed the soft, odd look on your face earlier, and just like Lily Evans does, she files it away in a neat folder in her mind with your name written on it, one new thing to figure out about you, where exactly it is you go when your eyes get foggy and you drift off.

“Why are you avoiding the boys?” Dorcas asks suddenly, and you feel marlene and lily stop, to turn and look at her the same way you do.

“It’s just easier, if I don’t see them.” You tell her this half truth slowly, as you all continue to walk down the stairs, you don’t miss the dry look you get from Marlene.

“Easier? You were miserable earlier and I can’t imagine they’re thrilled at the prospect of one of their best friends disappearing without explanation.” She somehow manages to be blunt and soft and so uniquely wise.

“I have to move on, because we are just friends. That’s easier to do when I’m not constantly overwhelmed by Remus reading to me, and Sirius’ relentless flirting, and James calling me-”

“Angel! There you are.” A sweaty James Potter practically yells from across the courtyard as he sees you. Your heart stops, the sun is on his face and bouncing off of his glasses, his hair has never looked this good, ever. It’s damp and sideswept and you just know Sirius has been somewhere near it, because it looks particularly soft. You aren’t sure he isn’t actually an angel of some kind as he jogs over to you and the girls in his white tank top and shorts, positively beaming.

“Nice to see you too, potter.” Marlene snarks with a grin as James enters your personal space.

“Oh come on Marls, you know I’m always positively thrilled to see you.” His smile unwavering as he looks over at her, you take that moment of freedom from his gaze to wipe the sweat that formed away from your brow, and to start a silent conversation with lily, which really only pertains you mouthing “help” and her grinning at you happily, thrilled with the confrontation. She hated when you hid from things, from yourself.

“Did you put on sunblock? Sirius has plenty, if you haven't.” James asks you softly as he leads the small group to the tree where he had come running from, you can just make out Sirius and Remus under it, Sirius sprawled out on the grass, head in remus’ lap, who’s back is against the tree as he reads. You’re struck with fondness yet again as you look at them, finding it all too easy to fall back into that habit of loving them from afar.

“I did. Lily made me.”

You answer, with a playful glare at your favorite redhead. James’ smile grows somehow larger at the playfulness. You watch Lily sling her arm over Dorcas, you laugh as Marlene shoves it off, grumbling playfully about how she should go find Mary if she wanted to get all lovey dovey. Despite the tension you can feel, always present it seems, since you fell for James, there is an easiness. Perhaps because of the warmth and the abundance that comes with this time of year, or maybe just because you have found yourself living here, with people who you feel if you didn't already have magic coursing through your veins, would make you believe in its existence. They were just that wonderful.

[tinietaehyun]

Whims of the Wicked

[Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot] [Series]

Pairing: Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, supernatural, dark romance, action, thriller, Alice in Wonderland inspired.

Contains: Profanity, mention of hallucination, spores, delusions, existential dread, asphyxiation, gaslighting, manipulation, obsessive behaviour.

Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist

Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful support on this one-shot series, I’m so glad you enjoyed them all! I hope you enjoy the last instalment of these one-shots!

Summary: You break the loop and take the Hatter off guard by your boldness, managing to somehow bypass his riddles and games. With all your remaining strength, you run deliriously, where? You don’t know.

All you know is the thousands of signs reading and pointing to an “exit” were taunting you. You couldn’t believe them. Not anymore, you couldn’t believe anyone, or anything in this world. You were not stupid enough to follow those damn signs and so, you go the opposite path. Into the Dark Woods.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear a voice, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

Arrows. Lots of them. Bewildered, you continue walking seeing the hundreds of decaying wooden sign posts with crooked arrows pointing down a path. Exit signs supposedly.

However, after your delightful time in Wonderland so far, you knew those arrows were far from the exit, and far from pleasant. In fact they’d probably lead you even deeper into this hellhole and make you lose your sanity entirely. You certainly were on the precipice of losing it for sure.

Thus, you find your feet sharply walking in the opposite path. The path twisting and winding toward the Dark Woods, the home of the infamous Cheshire Cat. Well, infamous to everyone here, not you, you didn’t know him at all. Though, through your time here, you’d heard more about the Red King of Hearts more than him.

Perhaps that wasn’t exactly a good thing. It makes you anxious in fact, knowing so little. The Hatter and the King, you were anticipating but this…whoever this was, you had absolutely no idea. Your eyes drift to the murky, misty and dark woods up ahead. Living in a place, so dark, decrepit…such a stark contrast to the vibrant and colourful landscape of Wonderland - it makes you think, truly what would this individual be capable of?

Could you make it past him too, in a twist of fate, like you did the Hatter? You don’t know. Just something deep inside your gut, instinct, you could call it, made you feel borderline nauseous. What monster lurked in those woods. The crooked and jagged silhouette of the trees was already enough to spook you.

The path gradually grows crunchier, less neatly trimmed and pretty morphing into dark dirt, with decaying leaves and dark green and black foliage. Oh…how pleasant indeed. It almost looked like the real world (whether that was a good thing or not, was debatable!)

The trees seem to loom over you as you approach closer and chill runs up your spine making your hairs stand on end. The energy here was ominous, making you alert, even the slightest crunch in your footsteps seem to startle you. Every noise, every breath of yours seemed to be just a little louder than normal.

No birds chirping, no scurrying squirrels, not a single glimpse of a deer or even the buzz of a bee. Nothing. Just the trees and decaying leaf litter below your feet which seemed to sound like you were stepping on bones rather than just leaves, but you didn’t want to think too much into it. How on earth did that one escapee get here and make it out?

This place…it was just so different. So isolated, so secluded away from everything, almost like its own pocket dimension or liminal space unaffected by the insanity inducing tendrils of Wonderland. In fact…as odd as it was, whilst yes, you were shaking in your boots, so to speak, you were also relatively…calm.

Almost as if your fractured psyche was not so fractured, or well almost on a time-out of sorts. Your sanity was almost…suspended. An eerie anxiety inducing calmness within you - the calm before the storm perhaps?

You hated this feeling but simultaneously it was a welcome reprieve from your brain getting turned to utter mush and your perception of- well, everything becoming distorted.

You peer up at the sky, that sunset now moving far too fast for your liking (maybe the sun being stuck in one place was more beneficial for you than you had initially anticipated); the thought of being stuck wandering in here at night, not good. Not good at all. It was already dim, murky and misty enough.

Well fuck. You made it this far, that was certainly something right? Your heart pounds against your chest and shaky breaths leave your quivering lips. Was it just you or did it get rather cold?

No, no it wasn’t, you could see your breaths smoke and swirl in the air as you released them. Okay, good to know you weren’t quite insane just yet. It actually had gotten colder.

You find yourself walking a little faster. You yelp feeling a cold caress on the back of your neck. Was that merely the breeze? Oh fuck. You snap your head to the left - you heard a rustle there. To the right - a snap of a twig. With ragged breaths, you speed up your pace.

‘Run, run, run, pretty thing.’ A whisper crawls up your ear canal and you scream.

The world around you morphs and the trees seem to wane and grow, the spiky, crooked arms seeming to reach out towards you. Were those eyes or just the swirl of the bark? Is that a mouth or just a hole in the tree? Why did the ground feel so unstable?

With closer inspection, why did this air seem to have minuscule specs of white pollen suspended in the air. Had you been breathing all this in? Why wasn’t it there before? Your head pounds in disorientation. Every direction, every tree looked the same.

You grimace, clutching your head and crouching attempting to pitifully ground yourself, “Ah…shit, my head…” Scratch everything you had said before. This place was not relaxing by any means! You couldn’t even think straight anymore.

‘Confused?’ A whisper to your left taunts. ‘Dizzy?’ Another whisper behind you sneers. You frantically peer around only to see nothing. Your heart erratically palpitates in your ribcage, your mind attempts to make sense of the situation.

Taunting whispers, snickers, the rustle of bushes and phantom footsteps. You were going insane! You let out a yell of frustration, piercing through the forest.

A tsking mock resounds behind you making you spin around. You probably looked quite like a lunatic flailing around so pathetically. ‘Tsk, tsk, I didn’t think our newest guest was such a scaredy cat.’

You shakily yell, “Where are you? W-Who are you?” You knew who it was but had to confirm it. It had to be the Cheshire Cat! You hadn’t even seen him yet and here he was toying with you as if you were ball of yarn akin to a cat’s paws!

A malevolent giggle resounds out making a shiver travel down your spine. ‘Mm-mm, now that’s more like it! What a lovely little voice you have…’

A cold breeze brushes against your cheek and neck making you shiver. ‘So pretty too, what a shame; the others didn’t even bother to tell me there was a new guest? Then again, most never make it this far. So…that must make you even more special, hm?’

You snap, your senses becoming more and more delirious, “Show yourself!” A low chuckle reverberates as the mysterious voice muses, ‘Are you sure you want that? Don’t you think it’s safer for you if I remain hidden? But oh well, since you insist. Who am I to deny such a pretty thing, their wish?’ Oh hell no! You should’ve kept your mouth shut!

You begin sprinting, weaving your way through the brambles and foliage, feeling the branches tug at your clothes, scrape against your skin. You had to get out of here, escape these taunting voices, icy touches.

Everything seems to converge, everything looked the same, waning shadows, smiling trees, the darkening sky. It felt as though you were spiralling into an abyss of confusion and deliriousness.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear the voice again, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

The air escapes your lungs for a moment as you process the sight. His ebony locks fall haphazardly across his forehead, a few strands over his eyes. Those eyes. Eyes which held forbidden knowledge, secrets, desires, twisted dreams and thoughts. Murky orbs which seem to glimmer with a twinge of curiosity, malice and desire? His gaze pierces into you from his position up in the tree, lounging with his limbs weightless as though he were a big cat. A pointed nose and lush rosy lips, stretched out into a wide smile, a little too wide.

Breathless, you utter shakily, stepping back, “The…Cheshire Cat…” His eyes glimmer and brows furrow as he tilts his head ever so slowly, as though observing every little movement of yours with precision, like a feline zoned in on its pitiful prey.

He laughs sitting up, “Oh…have the others told you about me? I’m flattered, usually they ignore my existence altogether.” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, none of the others had mentioned him, well outrightly you suppose, or at all. Only the Blue Caterpillar had.

Your heart races, adrenaline pumping through your vessels. Was he the cause of the voices…he had to be! Your gaze flits up again and you almost jump seeing him staring at you with such intensity. You notice his sharp black nails digging into the bark of the tree.

His grin widens impossibly so; you shake your head. Was your vision going bad? Were you hallucinating- you swore you just saw rows of teeth, his lips stretched impossibly wide. How horrifying. You peer at him again to see his resting smile again, accompanied with a mischievous gaze.

“Oh? Sweet thing, you look terrified. See something you didn’t like?” He coos swinging his legs off the branch. Your heart leaps to your throat, he was going to jump down.

Instinctively, you take a step back and another. However, as fate would have it, your foot catches on a tree root and you topple backwards with a shriek. You swear that root wasn’t there earlier!

The Cheshire Cat lets out a breathy laugh before leaping down with the utmost grace, knees bearing the brunt of the force of the jump down. His hands on the dark leaf litter brace the impact, not a single sound. As quiet as a cat… he tilts his head with a menacing smile, not showing quite so many teeth this time.

He was simultaneously alluring yet terrifying creating a whirlwind of conflict within your body. You could tell. He was different. Much different. Another entity entirely from the others here. There was a whole other aura surrounding him, making you feel nauseous but you also didn’t want to leave. Wait- why didn’t you want to leave?

The Cheshire Cat murmurs, one hand moving in front of the other as he almost crawls, no-stalks towards you, “So much fear, yet so little noise. Usually, my trespassers make so much noise from their screaming; it really does hurt my sensitive ears. I hear everything, you know. For example…”

In a flash of a second, you let out a shrill yelp as he’s suddenly in front of you crouching over your outstretched legs, placing a hand over his heart with a dark gaze, “…your heart. Pretty thing, it’s beating so fast. Are you scared of me?”

Close up, he’s even more infuriatingly mesmerising, a constant smirk on his lips, eyes that held depths that you couldn’t comprehend. His skin almost glistens alluringly under the dimming sky.

He shifts closer; your eyes widening and breath hitching as he outstretches his hand cupping your jaw, not too tightly but firm enough, and pushes upward closing your lips. You have to refrain from disintegrating on the spot- how embarrassing! Your mouth was hanging open!

With a sly grin, he leans down not letting go, “Having those pretty lips parted in shock, have we? Am I that terrifying to look at or…can you not get enough of me? Which one is it?” Even his tone of voice was enough to bewitch any man or woman. Slightly elongated words, a coy edge to his voice, complete with a touch of condescending and seductive tones.

You feel his nail press into the skin of your cheek and he groans, “Oh, you’re so soft. If I press just a little harder…” you whimper as he does so, “I’d have you painted in streams of red.” A delighted laugh escapes his lips making you shudder. “…Yes, yes, oh you’d look so pretty in red.” The Cheshire Cat gazes down at your fearful eyes and muses with an almost patronising coo, “Oh don’t worry sweet thing, I’m not that cruel. I don’t get visitors often, if at all, and well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so I won’t rip you to shreds and leave you hanging on a branch to rot.”

You grimace visibly at such a revolting thought. He releases his grip and seems to rake his gaze over you with a widening grin, “I’m the Cheshire Cat indeed, but you, you sweet thing, can call me just, Taehyun. Got that?” You say nothing, still reeling in from everything.

His expression falls off his face and he snaps darkly, “I said. Got that?” You stammer, “Y-Yes-“ “Yes, what?” He purrs. You shakily reply, “Uhm…yes, Taehyun?”

An amused laugh almost mocking escapes Taehyun’s lips, “Oh, you humans are always so easy to control. A little fear… a little raising my voice and it gets you to do whatever I ask. How endearing…”

Taehyun reaches out, taking a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his index finger in a nonchalant manner as you’re sat bruised and scraped up, frozen in fear. “You’re rather delicate aren’t you? How did a thing like you make it out this far? Yeonjun would have eaten someone like you right up. Even so, you made it past him. Impressive. Even more so, is fleeing the Hatter. Oh poor Beomgyu. I’m sure you know his pitiful plight? Oh yes, you even managed to get the White Rabbit’s head chopped didn’t you? Oh dear…quite the mess, hm?”

Your eyes widen, he knew everyone. Knew all their mannerisms, situations. He sighs observing the soft strands around his finger, “The sky’s actually darkening. Perhaps I’ll see night for the first time in a long, long time. That’s because you broke the loop right? Quite the feat.” His gaze snaps back up to yours startling you, “Aren’t you just something, oh so, special?”

You murmur tentatively as he lets go of the strand, “How- how did you-“ Taehyun cuts you off with manic glee in his eyes, “How did I know all that?” You nod slowly, shaky breaths leaving you.

“Oh sweet thing…” he leans in incredibly close, breath fanning your face, his murky irises entrancing yours as he slyly grins, “I know everything that I need to know. Even about you..”

You? About you? What? You flinch back, “About m-me? What…that’s impossible- I’m not from here.”He lets out a chuckle, “You’re not. You’re from the other world. The real world, as you call it, no? The boring monotony of humanity lies out there.”

Taehyun’s hand tilts your chin up, his lips inches from yours as he whispers tauntingly. The same as the voices from before. “…that boring old job you have. Typing away. So much dismal paperwork. The same boring routine. Coming home and lounging around, turning that white cat lamp on. Aren’t you glad you set foot here? So much more fun.”

You shake your head frantically, “No, no- absolutely not! This was the worst experience of my life,” your voice cracks, “I feel-I feel like I’m slowly going insane! I can’t stay here any longer otherwise-“ you pause. Wait. White cat lamp? How the fuck did he know that?

You stammer delirious, “How did you-?” Taehyun grins, finishing off for you, “Know that?” Your blood runs cold. He coos, “As I said before, I know, everything. The moment you set foot into this place, you let me into your mind. Let me into your fragile little psyche.” Mockingly, his taps his index against your forehead.

“This little place here, who knows? How do you know if any of this is real? What if it’s just a lucid dream, a fever dream? Oh, did you take any drugs before this?” You shake your head, eyes glazing over as a disgusting sensation of existential dread fills you. “What if you’re just hallucinating? Seeing me?”

All of a sudden he disappears. You peer around in panic. You snarl teary-eyed, “Hey! Hey Taehyun! Get back here! You can’t just-“ He left. An eerie silence permeates the air and you tremble. No. No it couldn’t be. He was just toying with you. Right?

‘Am I?’ His voice rings in your mind. You shriek, “What the fuck?” Did you hear him behind you?

‘Look to the left of you, pretty thing.’

You slowly crane your head to your left and see him standing there with a twisted smile. He blows into your ear, and you grimace scooting back, “Don’t do that!” You splutter out.

Taehyun muses, “Oh? Did you miss me too much in the seconds I was gone?” You snap, “No! I didn’t mean-“ He murmurs, “Well, lucky for you I don’t care what you meant.”

What a piece of-

All of a sudden his index finger presses against your lips and a sly grin appears on his face, “Now, now, let’s not insult me. I don’t like being insulted, Y/n.” Fuck. Even knew your name!

The Cheshire Cat could read your mind. He really did mean that he knew everything. Taehyun really did mean that you let him into your mind!

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, “My, my, having a mental crisis?” He leans down with a dark gaze, “Don’t worry, I won’t pry into your filthiest crevices full of your precious secrets,” he pouts, “I’m not that cruel, you see. Everyone’s entitled to privacy of course, well, that and I’m not feeling that curious. Yet.”

Taehyun sits back leaning back onto his palms with a coy smile, “Ah, I’m beginning to get rather bored now. Should we play a game?” You shake your head frantically with your hands clasped together. “No, no, please. No more games…I can’t handle anymore. I beg.” You couldn’t take it.

Taehyun pouts with a condescending tone, “Aw, is Wonderland’s newest guest tired of playing already? The others must have done quite the number on you then, if you’re so reluctant. But that’s not fair on me, is it? You’ve played with them. Why not me?”

Because you knew this time, you wouldn’t be able to win. This entire place. He could manipulate it with ease, no matter where you ran, his voice would taunt you, distract you, make you spiral into madness.

A devious laugh emits from him, “Mm…quite the pessimist aren’t you, thinking like that. Not even going to try? I was thinking, Hide and Seek. Maybe Tag?” You shake your head, with trembling hands, “I don’t have the physical or mental strength right now for anything, please.”

Taehyun muses running a hand through his raven locks, “You sound so pretty when you beg and plead. Almost enough to make me consider your wishes.” Almost?

The tall man stands stretching his arms with a yawn. He towers over you with a menacing smile, “Yes almost. I like you.”

You peer up at him blankly startled by the random set of words. He resumes, “I like you a lot. So here’s what we’re going to do. As punishment, for trespassing in my woods, you’re going to play one round of tag with me. Think you can manage that?”

Pathetically, you splutter, “That’s not fair! You have so much advantage in this place- I’ll lose!” He lets out a giggle, “Ah, ah, ah, I never said if you lost that it’d be a bad thing. I just want to play. See you in action, after all, you slipped past the others.”

So…just for fun? For his sick amusement?

Taehyun leans down grinning, “Yes. Precisely, sweet thing. For my sick amusement. I want to see your pretty face scrunched up in fear, your delicate limbs deliciously tremble from the very thought of me hunting you down. And after I find you…” a malicious little laugh resounds from his mouth, “Well, anything really. Maybe I’ll comfort you. Maybe I’ll tie you up with some vines, leave you hanging upside down for a while. Perhaps…I can even offer you something that we’d both like,” a seductive twinkle appears in his eyes.

He had just said if you lost it wouldn’t be a bad thing! So what on earth were these options?

“Not a bad thing for me, sweet thing. A bad thing for you, perhaps. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to…maim you in the process. Let me apologise in advance,” he glances down at his nails, sharp enough to pierce skin, “My… nails can be a little…sharp, let’s say. But don’t worry, dying isn’t an option for you. Although, maybe you’ll wish to die, most people do, anyway.”

Your eyes widen mortified as his jaw moves with a sickening crack, rows of teeth appearing as his lips widen horrifyingly. His voice rasps out, “I’ll be a gentleman and allow you a ten second head start. Ten, nine…”

With that, you stand and bolt off in whatever direction. It was pointless, he’d win, you both knew that. It was just a sadistic game to him. However, instinct cried out to you to keep running. After all, you were the prey and he was the hunter.

‘…Three, two, one, here I come…’ his voice taunts you.

Panting, you run as fast as you can, weaving through the trees, jumping over the roots, ducking under branches. The waning shadows and crooked branches seem like they’re reaching out for you, looming ominously watching your every move. It was useless to run, he’d catch you. So why were you doing it? Indulging him? Because you were scared.

Perhaps you could prolong your inevitable fate just that little bit longer. You hiss in pain as a branch tears into your arm as you sprint past. This damn forest!

The caterpillar had said that the way out was here, Taehyun had to know the way out. There was clearly nothing he didn’t know. Would you be doomed to be his toy for his sadistic whims forever?

A menacing chuckle emits from your left side and then your right. ‘I can see you…don’t you look adorable running?’

You attempt to drone out his voice. Run. Just keep running. You couldn’t make it too easy for him after all. The forest seems to spin deliriously around you, your sense of direction lost to the wind.

Your lungs burn, muscles twitching and aching immensely as your stamina depletes rapidly. You weren’t exactly the most fit person- but having it bite you back now, was just dreadful. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention in Physical Education.

‘Slowing down? Don’t tell me you can’t run anymore.’ Taehyun snickers in your head.

You released ragged breaths leaning back against a tree. If you ran anymore, you were sure you would pass out. Tears brim in your eyes and your limbs tingle with pain at the sheer exertion. You close your eyes leaning your head back, lips parted for breath.

What a useless chase…worthless. For a moment, all is silent. You know he’s probably right behind you, prowling around somewhere. Oh well… some twisted part of you thinks, perhaps if you played along, he’d get bored and put you out of your misery.

What the hell? What were you thinking? Had you given up hope so quickly? Your heartbeat eases with your breathing. How has Taehyun not found you yet? Was he just waiting for you to open your eyes?

All of a sudden you hear a breathless laugh. He was here. Your body stiffens and you keep your eyes clamped shut. His voice purrs out, “Found you.”

Yeah, yeah. Of course, how surprising.

Another laugh emits from him, “Don’t think that way. It was rather fun, no? I made it easy for you; didn’t even manipulate the environment. You should be on your knees, thanking me, that I don’t have you hanging by your ankle right now.”

A scoff escapes your lips, “Seriously?” You slowly pry your eyelids open only to see nothing. You peer around the tree—both sides. Nothing at all?

What? Where was Taehyun?

“Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, “Oh you guests always seem to forget to look up.” Your head instantaneously snaps up and you see him lounging in the tree that you were just leaning against. Holy shit! How long was he there for!?

“Since you decided to quit running, sweet thing,” he grins. His hand trails down the bark, nails digging into it, as he gives you a seductive smile, “I really, really like you, you know. You aren’t like the others. Most would have used this chance to try and pitifully escape or run back out of the woods back into Wonderland. But you…”

Taehyun slowly cranes his head, his smile widening into his terrifying grin and wide eyes, “…you didn’t run away, attempt to find your way out. You actually indulged me. You stayed put.” You remain silent.

It didn’t even register in your mind that you could run out of the woods, even if you couldn’t escape Wonderland, you could at least escape the woods and his grasp. So why…?

A giggle escapes his lips, “Perhaps I underestimated you. Maybe you’ve already lost your mind. Mm…or maybe you’re a little twisted, nothing wrong with that,” he begins clambering down, “Nothing wrong with enjoying a little pain, a little hunt—enjoying your sanity shattering.”

Within milliseconds, Taehyun stands right in front of you making you shriek as he grabs you by the throat, twisting you around and slamming you against the bark of the tree, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

A chuckle—half malice, half amusement emits from his lips as he peers down at you. Your lips part, eyes widening egregiously, his fingers squeezing a little tighter around your neck. Stammering, you say, “I-I-I don’t get it- what- why-“

“Because it’s fun,” he muses nonchalantly. “Have I mentioned how lovely your neck feels in my hand?”This sadistic piece of shit! He squeezes harder with a darker gaze, “Ah, ah, such a crude insult, insulting me like that, pretty thing? What have I said?”

Your gaze meets his, his face inches from yours. Your heart palpitates recklessly; shaky and strained breaths leave your lips. Such a piercing gaze, almost as if he were searching through your very soul. Your eyes flit over his face in partial wonder, how could someone so pretty be so deranged?

“It is quite the conundrum, hm?” Damn him and his unlimited access to your psyche!

A mocking hum leaves him as he tilts his head closer, “So you think I’m pretty, hm? My, you have quite the twisted taste. Most are terrified. Is it my smile?” His grip loosens on your neck momentarily allowing your shoulders to slouch in relief.

“Your smile…uh- I don’t think-“ you carefully structure your next words, “…it’s uhm, unique. Special.” He snickers, “Is it now? How cute. Nice white lie.” Taehyun seems to smile down at you, not a terrifying one, but ordinary. A smile carrying amusement, a touch of condescension.

Taehyun leans in even closer, “Mm…I’ve caught you. What should I do with you?”

Briefly, your eyes flit to his rosy lush lips as he speaks the words coyly. Focus. What was wrong with you?

“It’s okay,” he breathes out. “It's not like I haven't had fun with my guests before. In fact, looking at you…” his eyes take in your face and move downward, “I’d say it’d be an excellent use of time, driving you insane with my caress, having you see stars, spasm and come undone with my mouth and touch.” Would you like that? After all…you rather suck at tag. Maybe you’ll be better at this.”

You were sure if it weren’t for this abhorrent place, he’d make a great siren with how seductive he could get. Your knees feel weak and you close your eyes. No…no, he was stopping you from your one and only goal.

The Cheshire Cat was the only being in Wonderland who had such knowledge. Knowledge of the outside world. He had to know the exit. How to leave. Focus Y/n!

Taehyun’s low voice purrs out, “The exit…huh?” A smile coveting pleasure and secrets plasters on his lips. You whisper, quivering from his proximity, “Yes,” you inhale, “…the exit. I want to return to the real world,” your voice cracks, “Please.”

Taehyun’s hand grips your jaw as he coos, shaking your head slightly, “Aw, how adorable. Asking so nicely.” It takes all your strength not to lose your patience at his taunting and condescension. “Mm, so that’s why you’ve chosen to come to my woods and didn’t follow the hundreds of conveniently placed exit arrows and decided to risk everything by trespassing here, hm?” He muses.

“Why? Don’t believe those arrows?” Taehyun grins. You scoff softly, “As if it would be that easy.” He hums, “Mm, sometimes it really is you know. This place is just unpredictable. But in this case, you were right, those arrows lead to a lovely little hole, just waiting for an unsuspecting guest to waltz in and fall to their eternal descent.” Your heart drops, surely not? He was joking right?

‘Oh I’m not, sweet thing, believe me, it’s quite the place. Consider it the junk yard of Wonderland.’ His voice rings out in your mind.

Confusion batters your mind. You came into these woods only to get even more lost. Now that you were in his grasp, was it even possible to leave these woods and flee?

Taehyun’s grin widens, “I wondered when you’d realize that the exit isn’t so easy to find. You’re lost, aren’t you? So lost that you don’t even know which way to go anymore,” a malicious laugh escapes him.

You cry out fisting the fabric of his shirt in desperation, your mind couldn’t take this any further, “Please, Taehyun, please. I’ve had enough, you’re the only one in this place who knows the exit, knows of the real world. Surely you’ll indulge me? You’ve already let one person out of here right?”

He purrs, “Well, yes Alice was rather special, just like you actually. That’s why I adore you so much- just as witty, just as smart, if not more so, and very pretty,” he sighs frowning, “Oh, but she is now very old, quite elderly, truly a sad fact about the real world. You truly wish to return to the land of feeble mortality?”

You nod fervently, pleading, “Yes, yes I do! Just please show me how to leave!” Taehyun cocks his head, seeming to almost consider the request. A dramatic sigh leaves his lips, “Oh, how you guests are always the same, not even one person wishes to stay here.”

Goodness, who would? You just needed to leave no matter what, return to your meager and peaceful life!

Taehyun steps back but remains in front of you, ensuring you won’t just slip by. He says, “Oh, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re too eager to leave.” You stiffen, brows furrowing befuddled.

He resumes with a huff, “You’re so focused on escaping that you’ve stopped seeing what’s right in front of you. The exit isn’t some place that you can just walk into,” he spreads his arms wide as if to emphasise his point.

The fuck? You feel as though your head is going to implode. You didn’t need more riddles or philosophy! Impatiently, you snap, “I don’t care about your riddles! I just need to get out.”

He flicks his hand dismissively; his lips twitching to form another grin, “Oh, but you see, you’ve already found the way out. By engaging with me.” What? What on earth was he spouting?

Blinking, you go to speak but he cuts you off before you can even begin. “The exit is closer than you think. All you have to do is step through,” he gestures to the left of him with a sweep of his arm.

Your eyes widen in shock. Through the mist and amongst the dark trees just up ahead, you see a white glowing doorway bathed in a soft, inviting light. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavy on your limbs and you stare at it in sheer disbelief.

It seems so simple. Too simple.

You snap your head back to him and deadpan, “That’s it? So…that’s the exit?” Your tone is filled with uncertainty but you were genuinely drawn toward the door.

The Cheshire Cat answers, “Yes.” His voice drips with mischief, “It’s right there. All you have to do is go through. No more games. No more riddles. It’s your choice. The door is waiting.”

Your desire to leave Wonderland is overwhelming despite the odd tension in the air. You find your feet seemingly twist and begin stepping slowly toward the door, each step heavier than the next. You are entranced by the ethereal light it emits.

As you reach the threshold of the door, you outstretch your arm, and it seems to faze through the blank space, the space is comforting, like a hug, a warm blanket even. Your fingers wriggle on the other side, a soft breeze brushes past your fingers tempting you further. This…was your escape. Right? Why were you so inexplicably drawn to this door?

You move even closer, the light illuminating your features. Interrupting your moment of tranquility and bliss, Taehyun calls out, “Wait... don’t you want to know what’s on the other side?”

Immediately, you stop in your tracks turning back to him. Wait- what the fuck has gotten into you? Were you just about to carelessly walk into that doorway? Believing the Cheshire Cat of all people?

You stammer, shaking your head to clear your head, “What do you mean? Isn’t the exit the real world? Isn’t that where I’ll be free?” A shudder runs through you as you see Taehyun’s eyes flash with something darker now.

“You think the real world is your escape, do you? Ah, how naive. You see, the problem is that you don’t know what’s real anymore. What if this doorway is just another illusion? A trick, just like everything else in Wonderland?” He utters, voice devoid of any humour or mischief.

His words hang dangerously in the air and you feel your eyes water, you were so desperate. “But I’m so close. I need to leave,” you beg brokenly.

Taehyun raises his hand, with a flick of his wrist, the world around you warps and bends. The trees twist and wane unnaturally, the dark colours begin bleeding together and the mist thickens.

“And yet, here we are, standing at the threshold of the unknown. Tell me, pretty thing—how do you know that’s the right door? How do you know the world you’re so desperate to return to is any better than this one?”

You recoil at his words, any semblance of confidence, or resolute goal you had was in tatters. The forest around you seems to shimmer and shift - the world itself seeming unstable. Was it the world, or was it you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

As you stand frozen, drowning in your whirling doubts, you see Taehyun’s serious expression morph into a wide and sly grin. With a snap of his fingers, another doorway appears beside the first.

However, this one it’s darker, more ominous— glowing with an eerie, crimson light.

“Here’s another exit,” Taehyun gestures to it, “This one leads to another reality. Perhaps the world you’re so desperate to escape isn’t the ‘real’ one after all. What if there’s another reality waiting for you? One where you can have everything you desire. This one is a much safer choice, isn’t it?”

You peer back and forth between the two doors. Overwhelmed, you ask, “But which one is the real exit?”

“How do you know?” He questions, voice barely above a whisper as grins wider. “How do you know what’s real? Every path, every exit in Wonderland feels real. The problem isn’t about choosing. The problem is that you can never be sure. You think you can escape, but you can’t even trust the world around you.”

You clutch your head, shutting your eyes. Your mind is frazzled, your heartbeat seems louder. You were definitely going insane or had you died and ended up in some sickening version of hell? You simultaneously felt like you wanted to scream and weep. Why was everything so difficult? Why didn’t you know what to do anymore?

You stand almost paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, the wrong decision. You were torn between the two doors. The longer you seem to regard the two doors, the more they seem to shift and blur, as if neither one is truly stable.

The leaf and twigs crunch and snap under Taehyun’s feet as he walks towards you, “You cannot trust me, you cannot trust anything in this place. But you can trust yourself. Can’t you?” His voice is mocking, twisted but serious.

“The only thing that is real is you and your choice to move. Because, in the end, the only thing that makes a door an exit is your decision to walk through it,” he finishes off coming to stand beside you.

For a long moment, you both stand in silence. Taehyun stares at you, his sharp eyes fixed on you, glimmering with intrigue, a sadistic delight, curiosity even. You continue to gaze at the two doors, processing his words as they ring out over and over again.

The unmelted remainder of your brain chugs and whirrs pathetically as you once again go over his words. There had to be something, anything to bypass this endless torture of uncertainty. That’s when your brain clicks.

Your eyes widen; a shaky breath resounds from you, these two doors were a trap. These shifting illusions were never meant to guide you out of here. These were here to make a point.

The point being, is choosing to embrace the unknown. Not needing to know the answers. The answer was what was holding you back, keeping you trained to this exact spot in hopeless despair. You had to choose.

The Cheshire Cat chuckles, “My, my sweet thing, you look like a mighty epiphany has been had.” Indeed you did! Taking a deep breath, uncertainty swirls around you but you suddenly feel something shift in the air. You meet his gaze, something had shifted within him too. The way he’s looking at you almost…proudly.

Without a single word, you step toward the door that calls to you the most, that you resonate with. Not because you felt comfortable, no—you had no fucking clue what was on the other side of either door. But you were just going for it. Standing here in insanity inducing contemplation wasn’t worth it.

In other words: fuck it.

As you take the first step toward the door, the world around you begins to unravel. You peer over your shoulder as you hear loud laughter echo. There he was, laughing, throwing his head back, grin as wide as ever. Taehyun runs a hand through his black locks with a twistedly exhilarated expression.

Both of you lock eyes as he steps forward, taking your hands with a manic gaze and wide beaming grin, he brings them up to his lips, a kiss on the back of both hands— enough to make your heart flutter impossibly so.

“Ah, finally. You’ve learned the delightful truth, sweet thing. There is no certainty, no guarantee. There’s only choice, and the courage to take the first step,” he coos, thumb running over the back of your hand, “I have decided to consider your plea, your freedom. You’ve thoroughly impressed me.”

Taehyun leans down, “You’ve certainly entertained me, another person who I’ll never, ever forget.” His hand cups your cheek, before his thumb trails down to tug at your lower lip making your breath hitch.

“Oh how special you are…” he breathes. You look up at him in realisation. As insane, as sadistic and twisted as he was, he truly was the wisest in Wonderland. A being who surpassed comprehension, someone- or something, that no one in their right mind could ever figure out.

All you had to do was last his game- a game in which the very fabric of your mind and psyche would be stretched to their limits. Then, and only then when the Cheshire Cat was thoroughly pleased, would he grant your wish. Guide you to the exit you so desperately seek.

His lips are inches from your, tension between you taut, imposing, some filthy, dark twisted part of you wanted to tiptoe up and press your lips to his. Why? You don’t really know why.

An alluring smile appears on his visage, temptingly leaning down just a little further, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His other hand grasps yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he squeezes.

Taehyun whispers, “Sweet thing, how you tempt me so, I almost want to snatch you up and keep you here forever,” you stiffen and he muses, “But…that would not be fair, I am not so cruel to keep you here after making you lose your mind.” His gaze flits down to your lips, “Mm, but perhaps you could soothe my aching heart…with a goodbye kiss?”

This truly did feel like a goodbye. Throwing any decorum, any ounce of sanity or dignity out the window, you tiptoe up pressing your lips to his. He tilts his head, lips parting welcoming yours with a pleasant hum. Oh how good it felt, you hated yet loved it. It made you feel sinful but how you so craved it, something about him just made you want to…give yourself entirely.

His lips move against yours deliciously, enticingly before parting with a satisfied smirk and he whispers alluringly, breath hitting your face, “Sweet thing, do you promise to never forget me?”

Forget him? God, he’d be the last person you’d forget. You’d be surprised if you didn’t see him in your dreams (or nightmares), after all this.

Taehyun tilts your head up slightly, “Hm?” You shake your head with a breathless laugh, as you step back prying his hands off you, “I promise I won’t. Definitely not for a while anyway.”

“Not for a while, huh? Oh, I think it’ll be a lot longer,” he muses, raising his hand into a wave. “Now get going, weren’t you so pitifully desperate to get back to that awfully boring place you call home?”

You hear a click of a door opening and you gasp seeing the door you chose open up. The familiar trees of the park, the skyline of buildings, the sky. Home! You step forward, stepping into the threshold and feel the Dark Woods fade behind them. The weight of doubt and indecision lift from your shoulders.

It was about deciding to move—trusting yourself enough to take a step without knowing for sure what lies ahead. The real world isn’t perfect either, and it may not be as certain or clear-cut as you once believed, but you’re free because you are no longer waiting for the ‘right’ door to appear.

With that, your vision becomes pure and vivid white, blinding you with its brightness as you feel almost weightless. Finally, your consciousness fails you as you seem to let your body fall into nothingness.

Soon, a gentle breeze brushes across your cheeks and hair. You feel something soft, something crunching under your head. The scent of grass, a touch of street food, (perhaps a hot dog, or was it pizza?), dust and traffic and vehicle horns resound out as your consciousness slowly comes back.

A buzzing and murmuring infiltrates your ears. It felt as though…there was someone talking. No- a lot of people actually. The murmur of a crowd. All around you.

With a final push, you pry your eyelids open and sit up with a large gasp. A few yelps and a cacophony of muttering, whispering and gasp resound from around you. You squint as the daylight burns your eyes and you raise your hand to block out the ray of sun.

‘What happened to them?’ ‘Is she okay?’ ‘Why were they just passed out on the grass like that?’ All questions that seem to hover around you adding to your confusion and disoriented state. It had seemed in this world only a matter of a few minutes had passed.

You just looked like you had fainted, passed out even. A twinge of embarrassment fills you for a moment. Then you peer down seeing the horrendous black and red envelope that you seemed to be clutching tightly with trembling hands.

With a piercing scream, you toss the envelope away startling the small crowd that’s seemed to form around you. The invite daintily flaps and dances around against the ground being strung by the strings of the wind. God forbid, you ever accidentally enter such a world again.

Never were you picking up random shit on the road after this.

The people around you whisper and murmur whilst you groan clutching your head. Oh you must look crazy right now…

Seems about right, no one has the damn courtesy to help you up! Your body feels heavy, exhausted and fatigued with limbs shaking.

With a painful grunt, you bring yourself to your knees and place your hands onto the floor to steady yourself before you get up. The last thing you wanted was to stand up only for your legs to give out on you.

As you go to stand, you spot a pair of sneakers walking toward you, and you crane your head up to see who is walking towards you. Huh? Purple laces?

You stiffen seeing the person’s hand outstretched. You feel the entire world shift on its axis as any remaining breath promptly leaves your body at the abysmal sight.

“Grab my hand, I’ll help you up. These inconsiderate losers can’t be bothered to help you up? Can they?” His voice muses quietly as he doesn’t wait for you to take his hand, in fact, he wraps his hand around yours and tugs you up. You stumble into him wide eyed and speechless.

The crowd begins to disperse rapidly as you’re standing up and you have to make sure you are still in the real world as you frantically look around.

How the fuck? Since when was this possible?

“Since now,” he finishes off for you clutching both your hands. You tilt your head up to meet his dark gaze, “After all, you promised you wouldn’t forget me, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

“I-I- how- but that doesn't explain- how are you here in the real world?” You splutter and stammer.

You feel a tap on your shoulder seeing an elderly woman, “Dear, are you okay? Seems like you must have taken quite the fall, and understandably so, you must be rather disoriented but,” the woman uncomfortably peers in front of you, “But… are you in the habit of talking to yourself, or is it just rambling?”

What? Yourself? But- you gaze back over seeing Taehyun gazing at the woman who just spoke to you. He grins widely, clutching your hands tighter. “Go on, don’t keep the nice lady waiting.”

Your blood runs icily cold. No way.

“So, I’m sorry to ask, I’m just so confused at the moment, did I get up myself?” You question timidly. The lady seems to fidget awkwardly, “Uhm, yes? Yes dear, you did. Quite surprising, you got up so smoothly, after such an event. Do you need any medical treatment? I know a clinic nearby-“

No you didn’t. Taehyun helped you up. You spin back around with a scream as you fist his shirt, “You followed me out here? She can’t see you? She can’t see you? Only I can? How the fuck is that possible?”

The woman seems frightened by your outburst and steps back, “Uhm- alright dear, I- I best be going, just rest for a bit-“ she seems to back away, rushing off.

A cackle escapes Taehyun’s lips as he covers his hands over yours, grin frighteningly wide as he towers over you, “How? How, you ask?” One hand raises and his index finger trails up the bridge of your nose and rests right in the middle of your forehead.

With a delightedly mischievous chuckle, he whispers, “Because of this,” his finger presses into your forehead. “This wonderful mind of yours. Now, you’ll always have someone to talk to, isn’t that lovely? You should be honoured, Alice has got the same present. Not to worry, I can be in two places at once, three, four. Everywhere. All at once.”

Taehyun cups your cheek once more with a twisted adoration, “So don’t worry, you won’t have to keep those wondrous memories of yours, just that, memories. We can keep them alive, even in this world. Isn’t that nice? Your life won’t be so boring anymore.”

As the words hang in the air, you fall to your knees and let the most soul shattering scream you’ve ever released in your existence.

Oh, did you really think you escaped? Did you really think that pesky little invite would be harmless?

No, no, that invite was the gateway to madness. There was no way you’d come out of that world with any sanity left intact.

After all, that would be preposterous wouldn’t it?

Taglist: [CLOSED]

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[caxycreations]

I feel like you guys are missing the point.

He's a 900+ year old Time Lord. He's living as much as he possibly can, and he feels like it's nowhere near enough, and far too much, all at the same time.

This SAME MAN, same face and all, is the person who said "Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long"

He's the man who, literally in his NEXT regeneration, spends a third of his series depressed because he can't find an ounce of joy in the universe himself and NEEDS humans to show around so he can catch a hint of it through them.

The Doctor even states that humans "look like giants" to him, specifically BECAUSE of the fact that they live so much in such a short time.

This isn't a show about an awesome, nigh-immortal time-traveling alien.

It's a show about the pains and soul-crushing responsibilities that come with time travel and immortality.

And, of course, you're all forgetting the glaring fact of this episode, entirely separate from the quotes you're so eagerly judging:

THE MAN THE DOCTOR IS TALKING TO HAS TO EAT PEOPLE TO STAY YOUNG.

He literally KILLS PEOPLE to survive. The Doctor, talking him out of eternal life, is not just doing so because "long life bad", he's doing so because "eating people to live forever is an awful way to be" as well.

You're also disregarding his point entirely in favor of giving bad-faith analysis of the show.

His point is that whether you have 10 years or 20, how you spend that time is what matters, not the amount of time you have to spend.

He has eternity, and it's not worth it. He knows it isn't, and he's trying to stop anyone else from making that mistake. He's living for so long, and has lived so much, but it just isn't worth it anymore.

Lucy Lacemaker, from Satellite City (or, more officially, The August Few: Amygdala, though she never says this in there) puts it very well:

"Billions of years we've been about. And life's not worth much once the rest is gone. You get bored of the wind and the birds and the sound of laughter and the smell of pine. Life is like a piece of paper. And the writing is our lives. Our stories. When you only have 90 years, the ink turns to gold. So valuable are the words, the days you live. Cause soon, the story will end. But what if you have a never-ending page? A bottomless inkwell? The more you write, the less it all means. That's our curse. We live so long that it's not even life anymore. We're not living forever, we're dying forever."

@another-normal-anomaly said that if they kicked ass for 80 years, got saved, and kicked ass another 80, that's twice as much as they would have done. But that's still only 160 years, and it reinforces the Doctor's point; it's not the time that matters, it's the person, because others may spend that 160 years doing nothing, and some may spend that 160 years doing everything.

But they would still only have 160 years. Not forever. What the Doctor is warning against is eternity. Eternity is pointless.

@dagny-hashtaggart said the show is hypocritical in it's transhumanist stance for featuring an "awesome, nigh-immortal, time-traveling alien", but that just tells me they've either never watched the show or they have and 100% missed the point of the character of the Doctor.

Because the Doctor is not happy with his long life. He's not content or pleased about it. He's miserable. The only worth he finds in it is giving other, shorter-lived life forms the pleasure of seeing things they never could otherwise, and protecting the lives of those more fragile than him because he, at his core, has two values above all others:

If it kills me, I can put an end to this opera of my life, and I can finally rest

If it doesn't kill me, it means I've stopped it and other, more meaningful lives will be spared.

The Doctor is not some happy, positive character. He's a victim of a tragedy, and that tragedy is, quite painfully obviously, the fact he lives so long. His lifespan, his regeneration, is a curse to him, not a blessing. The fact you can call the show hypocritical for that tells me you've never seen it, or you've never understood it.

@argumate made a crude joke about a man with a big dick, named after having a big dick, saying that life wasn't about having a big dick.

Well, fun fact. If your dick were, say, 14 inches, as a human (which is a real condition that has happened), you would have heart problems every time you got erect, be entirely unable to enjoy penetrative sex (aside from the heart problems, you'd be unable to get more than a small fraction of your length in without hurting them), and if you ever tried to get a little more out of it, you'd seriously injure your partner.

Not only that, but you'd have social problems as well. Try hiding the outline when your flaccid length still reaches down past your knee. You'd be a laughing stock early on, and if you had frequent erections (say during puberty, post-growth spurt, pre-calming of the hormones), you'd be unable to hide it no matter how hard you tried.

It would cause more issues than that, too, believe me. And yet you're saying if a man who suffered from all of these problems told you "it's not all fun and games, having a big dick", you'd mock him for not loving the "gift" he's been "blessed" with?

All of you missed the point of the show, the character, and even the point of the scene you're remarking on.

I expected better comprehension on this site.

[guiltycorp]

Even though I loved the writing of LoL Jayvik I really appreciate that Arcane is going for a different approach so far, makes things feel less predictable! Instead of ideological differences driving the divide between them it is more so that they are just... out of sync so far?? I mean, during last season Viktor even before his diagnosis was eagerly meddling with the Hexcore with little regard to safety, then straight up went for the illicit and damaging drug to facilitate the transformation process, then when he ran out of that drug he proceeded to try using Hexcore without it (when he already TESTED that on plants and should have known it would backfire) which killed Sky... At which point he went oh shit, ok, I should stop meddling with this thing and just die peacefully maybe. It's not very clear how much of that he told Jayce aside from making him promise to destroy the Hexcore, but Jayce's surprised reaction in s2 when hearing about Sky makes me think it wasn't much at all...? So Jayce doesn't feel as much of an asshole for, once again, going against Viktor's explicit wishes. He pretty much never has the full picture before being forced to make a decision! Idk it makes him very sympathetic to me ngl, just feeling more and more guilt but continuing to fuck up due to lack of knowledge and experience, is that not relatable? And aside from being entirely unprepared for Viktor's death even after s1 I think it's like Jinx says in this Act too, it was something he could fix for once... Perhaps this is why he agrees to the use of Hextech weapons, too, feeling like it's the only thing he can do to 'help' the people he cares about and protect himself too (I guess killing just 1 defenseless child wasn't enough of a learning moment for him lmao). Despite again, this going very much against Viktor's wishes (and Mel's!! we didn't get her with Jayce after this but I imagine she's not very happy with him either... Viktor&Mel team up when). This time Jayce is the one just going for it and hoping for the best despite knowing very little of how it works. I also love how a lot of us in the fandom and also Singed in the series assumed Jayce would be appalled by Viktor's experiments but instead... he immediately goes even further :D And when Viktor wakes up and goes bye Jayce is like ?? but then by the end of the next episode he starts to realise that ohh alright so maybe yeah they should have stopped... Who'd have thunk. I'm not super up to date with League lore but is it really that difficult to find a sane mage for consultation purposes? ...Also I really doubt that hitting that thing (wild rune?) with his hextech-powered hammer was a good move lmao and yet even in this it seems similar to what Viktor is currently doing. Both continue to use the arcane to try and fix things, Jayce through violence and Viktor through transmutation, but it kind of seems like the same kind of mistake. (they are just pretty bad scientists and always have been and i love that for them lmao)

[sandwitchstories]

Hello, Hello! This little scene of Mouse and her Papa has been bouncing around in my head for a few days now, so I had to get it out of my system!

For more adventures in Mouse's Mini-Verse, check out my Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! )

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna and Mouse take a trip to the market.

WC: 600+

CW: toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, I love them together

Sukuna was simmering. If he didn’t love you the way he did and tolerate Uraume the way he did you both would have been scattered about in pieces. He was the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons. The strongest sorcerer alive. Tall, 4 arms, muscular and a master of hand to hand combat. 

Yet the two of you didn’t think he could handle a single trip to the market with Mouse by himself. It infuriated him. She was a 2 year old. It was not that hard…

“Papa okay?” Mouse asked as she walked next to him, sensing his mood.

“I’m fine.”

He paused as Mouse ran to the side, picking a weed and bringing it back to show him and find out the name of it. About the 6th time she did it, he picked her up and put her on his shoulders, tired of answering questions. She loved the view from up there and he could keep moving at a decent speed. 

But at the market… no no, she HAD to be on the ground, she would accept no less. She knew better than to scream and cry, so instead she made multiple attempts at physically escaping her father’s grasp before he set her down in sheer annoyance. They were still a short way from the market but they were going to have a talk.

He held onto the back of her outfit so she couldn’t get away as he knelt down. “Mouse, listen to me.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, moving to hold his face and pull it down so they could touch their foreheads together. “I listening.”

“Good. When we get into the market you are to stay by my side. No matter what, you stay by my side. Am I understood?”

“Okay, Papa. I understand!” she smiled and gave him a kiss on the nose. “I stay by Papa.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, ruffling her hair before standing to his full height. “Lets go.”

When they got to the market Mouse’s eyes got huge and he could swear he saw drool drip from her lips. And then… she apparently decided their entire conversation just moments before had never happened. She set to zigging and zagging through the stands of foods, smelling and looking at everything she could see. 

He couldn’t find it in him to be mad. She was pretty damn cute when she came back to him, jumping up and down telling him about all the foods she saw. And then she got him.

“Papa. We try together?” she wrapped herself around his leg and looked up at him with a big smile. “Food tastes best with Papa.”

He smirked and picked her up in one arm, giving her a little chuck under the chin. “Food tastes best with you too, Mouse. I hope you brought your appetite with you. There’s lots of food to try.”

“I big hungry. Let's go!” she pumped a fist into the air.

“That’s my girl!”

_________________________

It was late afternoon when the two returned home from the market with absolutely nothing you asked them to get, stomach aches from eating too much and both needing a nap after dealing with the general public. You sighed, hands on your hips and shaking your head as you saw the two of them curled up in bed sound asleep. Like father, like daughter.

A small pouch on the nightstand caught your attention. You walked over and picked it up. On top was a note written in Sukuna’s beautiful handwriting. (The man took pride in every single thing he did down to his handwriting. It was impeccable.)

Y/N- As if I would forget about you. - Me

“Such a sap,” you smiled at the bed, feeling butterflies in your stomach. Sukuna was many things. And among them were being a good father, and a wonderful husband. He was a prickly pain in the ass, but gods did you love him. You just… wished he had gotten the items on the damn list…

[redroomreflections]

When in Bloom

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

10/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 7.9k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Note: I spent my entire Sunday writing this. I paused and rewound the movie 50 times. I utilized ChatGPT to help me with timelines. I read the script. I pulled out all the resources to ensure I did my big one for y'all. Special shoutout to Grammarly Premium for making my writing look and sound professional-like. Enjoy =)

Breakfast was always something Natasha found important. In her mind, it was more than just a meal; it was the fuel that powered her through the day. She never skipped it, a rare and comforting constant in her life. Even now, in a quiet city apartment far removed from the chaos of her past, the ritual of making breakfast each morning grounded her.

In the Red Room, food was always viewed strictly as fuel, something utilitarian and calculated. She never spoke much about those years, especially not with Nicky—he was still too young to understand, and she didn’t want that darkness clouding his view of her. But she could remember the harsh regimens, the rigid routines, the lessons drilled into her: taking care of herself wasn’t a luxury; it was mandatory. A weak Widow was a liability; weakness was something she had never been allowed to show.

She tried not to think too deeply about what her training had left her with—it was just one more thing in a long line of things that had happened to her.

"Mama, I'm almost ready," Nicky shuffled to the room with his laces untied and jacket hanging from his body. Ollie walked with him at his tail. He sat next to Natasha, looking up with big, hopeful eyes.

"I don't have anything for you, sweet boy," Natasha smiled apologetically. Ollie whined and laid his head on the floor. Natasha turned away from the dog to inspect Nicky. He was sitting on the floor, his hands attempting to tie his laces as his little tongue stuck out.

"What do you need, Myshka?" Natasha asked, and Nicky held his foot up.

"I can't do the knots, they're too small."

Natasha smiled and tied his shoes. She stood up, and Nicky followed suit, his coat fully zipped and his backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Can we stop for hot chocolate on the way to school?"

"I made breakfast," Natasha shook her head.

"Eggs and toast again?" He asked as he sat at the table.

"Eggs and toast," Natasha nodded. It was all she knew how to make without burning.

"Okay," Nicky sighed, "but I want a donut tomorrow."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," she answered.

"It's a promise!" He said.

"You know how I feel about those," she chided. "I don't make them unless I can follow through."

Nicky dug into his eggs and toast with a resigned but good-natured sigh; Natasha sat across from him, her phone buzzing softly on the table. She’d promised herself that breakfast would always be their time, uninterrupted, but the messages were piling up.

Okoye: "Natasha, we’re seeing unusual cartel activity in Mexico City. I think it’s Barton."

Rhodes: "Saw the same. We have casualties this time—he’s not holding back anymore. Might be time to intervene."

She rubbed her temples, reading over each message carefully. It had been like this for months: catching glimpses of Barton’s brutal one-man war, getting vague reports, but never close enough to reach him. And each new incident seemed to confirm what she already knew—Clint was spiraling, slipping further away with every mission.

Nicky munched on his toast, his little eyes flitting between her and Ollie, who was sulking on the floor. She gave him a quick smile, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders, and typed a response.

"I'm on it. I'll be at the compound in an hour," She typed.

"Who's that?" Nicky asked, his eyes still watching Ollie.

"A friend," Natasha said, putting her phone down. "They're working on a case."

"The Avenger kind of case?"

"Exactly the kind," she nodded.

"Can I go on a mission with you someday?"

"Hmm, you have to finish first grade and learn to tie your shoes," She said. "Then we can talk."

Nicky finished the rest of his breakfast, and Natasha helped him clean up and get his backpack ready. As she grabbed her jacket, Natasha saw a message flash from another chat, this one from Nora.

Nora: "Hey, are we still on for tonight? Let me know what you’re in the mood for."

They’d only met a few months ago, but Natasha was easing into an unlikely friendship with Nora. They both tried to ignore the fact that they'd almost slept together. Their camaraderie was something she needed during this time. Someone who didn't know her world. Someone as a listening ear.

She hadn’t told Nora much about her past or work—what she could share, anyway—but Nora seemed to sense her guardedness and never pressed for more.

Natasha quickly typed back:

Natasha: "Still on for tonight. Maybe something low-key? Let’s catch up."

She tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and helped Nicky and Ollie out of the apartment, locking the door behind them.

Their walk to his bus stop was uneventful. Nicky counted the steps to the corner, babbling to her about something she had no idea about. Traffic at this time was nonexistent, especially after the Snap. It was just her, Nicky, and Ollie walking, their steps in sync.

"Remember your homework and ensure you're practicing your cursive," she reminded him.

"I know, I will," Nicky huffed.

"Have a good day at school," Natasha said, crouching down to Nicky's level. "I love you, always."

"Love you too," he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Ollie!"

He ran off, his backpack bouncing with him, as he met the other children at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, and the children all piled in. Natasha stayed until the doors shut, and the bus disappeared from her view.

This was their normal.

********

The training room was quiet, and the soft hum of electricity was all around her. She could hear the shuffling of her feet and the clank of the bag as it hit the floor.

It had taken Natasha a while, but she found her rhythm again. She stood in front of the mirror, wearing a simple black shirt and sweatpants, her feet grounded to the floor as she pulled her hair into a tight, controlled bun. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, twisting and pinning the strands into place as if the routine and discipline would quiet the noise in her mind. Every movement felt deliberate, a small act of control.

The soft padding of her shoes across the floor felt comforting as she moved to the center of the room. She stretched, her arms reaching above her head, bending into a series of quiet, fluid motions. There was a certain peace in this, a kind of grace she hadn’t known she needed until she found it again.

She moved through pirouettes, the motion sharp and fluid before she landed softly back onto the floor. Natasha paused, standing tall, breathing steady. She was a soldier. A leader. A mother. But for this moment, she was just a woman, letting her body regain balance.

When she had the time, she would sit in this training room. Sometimes, she'd cry. Other times, she would dance when her mind and body needed it.

Today, she'd danced.

Her hands came up in a strong pose, her right leg pointed, and her left hand raised.

The music started with a quiet melody.

Her muscles remembered. Her body knew what to do.

Natasha took a deep breath, and then she began to dance.

The ache in her chest seemed to tighten with every motion, a dull, constant throb she couldn't shake. It wasn't the physical exhaustion, the burn in her legs from stretching too far, too long—it was the grief, the absence, a constant reminder of what had been taken from her.

The anniversary was coming up. Eight and a half years together. She tried not to think about it, but the numbers wouldn't leave her alone. Five years lost. It felt impossible to imagine what those years might have been. What would life be like now if it were not for the Snap? If not for the universe tearing itself apart?

Stella would be nine. Natasha could almost picture it: a small girl with dark, wild curls and an infectious smile. Her eyes would have sparkled with the same mischief as you. She would have been old enough to start thinking about her future and to ask questions that Natasha would have been too tired to answer. But you'd have done it together, as a family.

Natasha stopped suddenly, her foot hitting the ground hard.

A lump had formed in her throat, and the tears threatened to spill.

The pain was like a knife, a sudden, violent stabbing deep inside.

There may have been another baby by now. Maybe she'd have been thinking about balancing the mission, the children, the quiet mornings, and the long days filled with reports and decisions. She'd have retired by now. She'd have given up avenging, given up this life of constant motion, just to hold onto the people she loved.

Her mind wandered, remembering how you’d looked when you held Stella for the first time, the joy in your eyes as you held that tiny life. Natasha wanted to hold onto that memory. She wanted to feel the weight of her daughter in her arms again. But she couldn’t.

Her foot faltered as she spun, the motion too sharp and quick. She caught herself, steadying on one leg before continuing the movement. Her body knew the steps. It was the heart that was falling behind. She could push through it—she always had.

But today, the ache felt too much to ignore. She wished for a moment that she could turn off the grief, pretend that it wasn’t there, that it didn’t eat at her every time she saw a family or a couple. Every time she saw a child running through a park or a mom at the grocery store. Every time, she thought about the future she would never have.

*********

Natasha sat among the ring of holo-screens, only half listening to the chatter from each team member. Rocket, Carol, Okoye, Nebula, and Rhodey spoke, trading updates and frustrations across the galaxy. She held a small peanut butter container in her hand, absentmindedly scooping out spoonfuls as she listened. The sandwich in front of her remained untouched. The familiar, salty taste grounded her, though it did little to quell the churn of thoughts spiraling within her.

The screen shifted to Rocket, whose frustrated voice was loud and clear.

Rocket's voice rang from the Halo. "So, thanks for the hot tip."

Natasha smirked a little despite herself, watching the banter continue between him and Carol. But her mind kept flickering back to the breakfast she'd rushed with Nicky, how she'd promised him she’d be home after her day at the compound. She'd need Nora to pick him up from school again.

Carol’s voice cut through the chatter. "The things that have been happening on Earth have been happening everywhere else. On thousands of planets. You might not see me for a long time."

Natasha swallowed another spoonful of peanut butter, feeling the weight of Carol's words settle over her. It was a reminder of just how enormous this loss was—this endless damage, stretching farther than anyone could have imagined. She’d stayed, kept her footing here, but even her little world seemed to be slipping. Her family was fractured, Barton somewhere out there in the shadows, and her friends scattered across the world, each dealing with their own aftermath.

"All right. Everybody keep keeping their eyes open... This channel’s always active. Anything goes sideways, anyone makes trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me." She said.

One by one, the screens blinked out, each goodbye leaving her feeling slightly lonelier. Only Rhodey remained. She knew what he’d say before he even started.

"Federalés found a room full of bodies outside Juarez. Cartel guys... Guns still in their pants. Same MO as Marseille. And Kiev."

Her chest tightened, the peanut butter sticking in her throat. She nodded grimly, acknowledging what she'd known was coming but dreaded to hear.

"It’s definitely Barton," Rhodey said.

The confirmation settled in her like a lead weight. Clint was too far gone, and whatever had driven him to this point was something she couldn’t pull him back from—not yet. Her fingers clenched the spoon tighter, and she stared at the empty container. She’d been so focused on keeping things together, on somehow pulling everyone else back into orbit, that she hadn’t noticed just how close she was to breaking herself.

"What he’s done here...what he’s been doing...I got to tell you, part of me doesn’t want to find him." Rhodey continued.

Natasha let out a long breath, steadying herself. She had to keep it together for Nicky, Clint, and everyone else who still counted on her to lead them through this unsteady world.

"Find out where he’s going next." She fought through the tears to hold it together. She took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to ease her tears, before dropping it onto the plate.

Rhodey nodded, the screen flickering off, leaving her alone. She rubbed her eyes, letting herself sink back for a long, quiet moment. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem sad enough already."

She looked up, eyes weary, but a small smile breaking through. Steve could always tell.

Natasha turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her.

"Come by to do your laundry?" she asked, arching a brow.

"And see a friend," he replied.

She forced a small smile. "Your friend’s fine."

Steve raised an eyebrow, his expression softening with the familiar look he reserved for her. "She leave the house today?"

"Nothing out there I particularly want to see."

"I spotted a pod of whales coming over the bridge," he said, almost wistfully. "Closer to the city than I’ve ever seen them."

A faint, half-hearted smile tugged at Natasha’s lips. "Guess nature’s making a comeback, huh? Nice to know someone’s doing alright."

They fell into silence, and Steve watched her, something unspoken settling in the quiet. He leaned against the doorframe.

"How’s Nicky?"

Natasha's face softened at the mention of her son, her usual guarded expression slipping just a little.

"Growing faster than I can keep up with," she murmured, almost to herself. "He’s asking a lot of questions these days. Hard questions."

Steve nodded, his voice gentle. "He’s smart, like his mom."

She let out a small, tired laugh, glancing down. "Smart... yeah. And stubborn. Keeps me on my toes."

"Sounds like he’s a lot like you."

She shook her head, smiling faintly, before looking back at the table where her half-eaten sandwich sat. "He’s everything we hoped he’d be. Kind, curious... Sometimes, I wonder if he’s too gentle for this world. For what’s left of it, anyway."

A heavy silence followed her words, and Steve moved a step closer, an understanding look in his eyes.

"He’s got you to look out for him. And you’re both stronger than you think."

Natasha gave a small nod, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Maybe."

After a long moment, Steve looked up at her, his gaze steady, honest.

"Group was interesting. I keep telling them to move on. Grow past it," he said, his voice laced with something like resignation. "And some of them actually do. But not us."

Natasha held his gaze, the weight of it settling heavily between them. "If I move on," she murmured, "who does this?"

"Maybe it doesn’t need to be done," he replied quietly.

The words lingered, sinking into her. Steve was thinking of letting go. She could see the traces of weariness on his face and how he looked around the compound.

She glanced around, taking in the remnants of what had once been their team, their family. "I used to have nothing," she said softly. "Then I got this. This job, this family..."

Her voice caught, a flash of grief breaking through her carefully composed exterior. She took a breath, collecting herself.

"And even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be... better."

Steve’s expression softened. "I think we both need to get a life."

She let out a small, almost hollow laugh. "You first."

He gave her a slight smile, then tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "What about Nora?"

Natasha’s face shifted, her smile fading. "It’s nothing," she said, brushing it off. Her gaze fell, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want my family back, Steve. My wife... Stella..."

A deep silence settled over them. Steve nodded slowly, understanding without needing any more words.

"We did our best, Nat," he murmured. "There wasn't anything more we could have done."

"That's the difficult part," She nodded.

They stared at each other, a long, quiet moment of shared melancholy. The silence wrapped around them, a reminder of all they’d lost and the people who weren’t there to share it with them anymore.

Then, a sudden ping broke through the silence. Natasha looked down at her console, swiping to a CCTV display, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight on the screen.

Scott Lang’s face filled the monitor, his expression hopeful yet bewildered, with Luis’s old van parked behind him.

“Hello?” Scott’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Is anyone home? This is, uh, Scott Lang? We met a few years ago. At the airport?”

Steve leaned in, frowning as he watched Scott on the screen. “This an old message?”

Natasha shook her head, stunned. “It’s the front gate.”

********

Vormir

Natasha and Clint were climbing, their breathing ragged from the exhaustion of the long ascent. The mountain seemed endless, and with every step, Natasha felt the air become thinner. It was suffocating. Her thighs were burning, her legs shaking, but she pushed through, her heart pounding in her ears as they reached the top of the cliff.

They approach an archway carved into the mountain's face, and Clint mutters to himself.

"Really starting to regret my choice here," Clint said half-jokingly.

Natasha exhaled, a dry laugh escaping her lips despite the gravity of the situation. She didn't answer immediately, her mind racing. "Yeah. I'm going to bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain."

"I don’t think technically he’s a raccoon..." Clint grinned.

"Whatever. He eats garbage." She cut him off. But as Clint spoke, Natasha's smile faded, her gaze distant as she took a few more steps, each one harder than the last. There was a tightness in her chest, a knot that grew with each breath.

For a moment, the mountain felt less like a physical challenge and more like an emotional one. Every part of her wanted to stop, to tell Clint it was not worth it, but she couldn’t. She couldn't. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. They turned, guns drawn, ready for a fight.

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me," The hooded figure affirmed.

"Creepy," Clint commented.

"Welcome, Natasha, daughter of Ivan." The hooded figure gestured to her. "Clint, son of Edith."

"Creepier." He murmured.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked.

"Consider me a guide. To you and to all who seek the Soul Stone."

Their journey ended here.

********

"If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead." She said firmly.

Clint’s face was grim, but there was no question in his eyes. He knew what was coming. He already knew what’s been weighing on both of them.

"Then I guess we both know who it has to be,"

There was a pause. A beat where emotion played all over their faces - pain, love, heartbreak. Natasha looked at Clint, and something on her face shifted.

"Yeah, I guess we do," She said.

"I'm starting to think we don't mean the same person," Clint tilted his chin. "Nicky needs a mother."

"And he'll have her," Natasha said. As Natasha began to pull away, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, something changed.

Suddenly, the world around them shuddered. A strange, heavy pressure filled the air, like reality was bending. Natasha stumbled, her eyes snapping around, searching for the source. The ground trembled.

Suddenly she was alone.

"You think this is the end of your choice? I think you’ll find... it’s just the beginning." Red Skull's voice played around her ominously. She searched for the source but couldn't find it.

"What the hell," She cried out.

Before she could process what was happening, the world shifted again. The landscape around her warped, colors bleeding into one another as if she'd stepped through a rift into another plane of existence. Natasha closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. She only listened to her breathing and her senses until her feet hit solid ground. She could hear the running of water. If she could guess, it was a stream or... a river.

"What is this place?" She asked as she blinked her eyes open. Red Skull stood before her. Natasha looked around, hoping to find her bearings, but nothing gave her the indication that she was still on Vormir or Earth. It seemed like a purgatory of sorts. Someone else's dream.

"You’ve come this far. But I think you deserve more than just a simple end. A choice so great—perhaps you should have the chance to reconsider." Red Skull explained.

"What do you want from me?" She demanded. "Where's Clint?"

"I offer you a choice—one you may not have considered. A way out. A chance to undo it all... in a different form." He ignored her questions, only causing more confusion.

"What’s your game, Skull? What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him. "I swear to-"

"Mama?" A voice called. Natasha froze. Her heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing into a single point of focus. That voice. Her heart dropped and then soared all at once. She didn't understand how, but she knew exactly who it was. Her stomach churned.

She turned around, her eyes scanning the familiar landscape, and then there she was.

Stella was the same age as when the Snap happened. Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. Her hair was the same—soft, messy curls that fell around her face. Her eyes were just as bright as those vivid green eyes that Natasha had only seen in her dreams. The little girl looked up at her, pure joy in her expression, a smile that could light up the entire world.

"Hi, Mama," Stella grinned up at her. Her face was unchanged, frozen in time. She looked just as Natasha remembered. Still three. Still lost in a world that didn't seem to age her.

Natasha’s heart felt like it would shatter. She rushed toward her daughter, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She pulled Stella into her arms, holding her so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes stung with tears she couldn't contain.

"I don’t... I don’t understand. How—how are you here? You... you’re—"

But before she could finish, Stella pulled back slightly, her little face furrowed with confusion.

"Where is Mommy?" She asked

"Oh God." Natasha choked back a sob. She wants to say something, but she doesn't have the words. It was too much.

"Why is Mommy not here?" Stella's confusion turned to frustration. "You said Mommy was coming." Stella directed her anger at the Red Skull.

"Stella..." Natasha began.

Natasha’s world tilted on its axis. She held Stella tighter, her mind racing. A thousand questions rushed through her thoughts. How was this possible? What was happening to her?

But the reality of her daughter, there—now—overpowered every rational thought. The warmth of her child’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling her away from the edge of the unknown.

"I'll find Mommy, don't worry," Natasha soothed the little girl. "We'll find her together."

She rubbed her daughter’s back, trying to keep herself from breaking down. Her emotions were a whirlwind—relief, pain, confusion. But something didn't feel right. Something was off.

"I offer you a choice." Red Skull interrupted their reunion. "Stay here, in this moment, with your daughter, forever trapped in the purgatory, or return to the world you know... in a different form. I can give you a new life, a new beginning—a second chance at everything. But there is a price, of course."

Natasha’s breath hitched. "What's the price? What happened to giving up a soul?"

"You will be reincarnated. Your soul, your essence, will live again in a new body. You’ll be free from the pain of this life and the burden of the past. But you will lose everything you know. You’ll forget this life, your memories, your loved ones—your daughter. You will be someone else."

"So either way, I'd die," Natasha guessed. She licked her lips nervously. "Either way, the people I love will lose me. How is this better than the other deal?"

"Not death, Natasha. Rebirth. A chance to begin again, free from the weight of your past. But yes, in this new life, you will forget. The pain, the grief... and the love. Your soul will live again, but it will be untethered, unburdened by the memories of this life. It will be a clean slate.

"So I get to live again but lose everything I ever cared about? I don’t even get to remember the people I’ve fought for, the ones I’ve sacrificed everything for. You’re telling me to give up my life again?" She shook her head. "I would forget her. I would forget all of them."

"You will gain something more valuable—freedom. You will be someone else, someone better, with no shackles. No more ghosts of the past, no more running. You will be given a chance to make a new path. But there is no turning back once you choose. Once your soul is reborn, it will not remember this moment. You will be free of the pain of your past... but also the joy of those moments, those people."

Natasha swallowed hard, her mind racing. The thought of losing everything she fought for—the memories, the bonds she’s built, especially with her daughter—twisted like a knife in her chest. But the idea of freedom and redemption tempted her in a way she couldn't ignore.

"And if I choose the other way? To stay here, to die for the stone... What’s the difference? Isn’t it all just... an end?" She said quietly to herself.

"The difference is that you remain as you are in this choice. You will stay in this moment, this world, and be trapped in it. Without her. A death without peace, a loss without redemption. The universe will continue without you."

A beat passed as Natasha processed the weight of his words. She wanted to scream, to demand more answers. She wanted to tear through this reality, but all she could do was stare at Stella, her little face looking at her with that innocent, trusting look. That face is the one thing that keeps pulling her heart in two directions—back toward this strange, illusory world where she can hold her daughter or forward toward an unknown fate, a second chance.

"Why would I choose freedom if it means losing everything that made me who I am? What’s the point of living again if I can’t remember why I fought so hard to be here in the first place?" She frowned. "Do they come back? Does Nicky get his mother and his sister?"

"The people you love will remember you. They will mourn you. They will grieve, but they will move on. They will find a way to live without you, and eventually, the wounds will heal. It will not be the same, but there will be peace, eventually."

"I don’t want to forget... I don’t want to forget her. I can’t." Her voice broke. She was crying now.

"You are not choosing to forget her. You are choosing to give her a future. A future where the world is saved, where the people you love have a chance to live. That is the sacrifice you make. The world needs you, Natasha Romanoff, more than your memories."

"And if I choose not to live again? What happens then?"

Red Skull’s gaze sharpened, his voice heavy with the finality of his words.

"Then you will die, and the universe will continue without you."

The reality of his words sank in, a heaviness weighing her down. She was faced with an impossible choice—die and have the possibility of everyone coming back or reincarnating with the same result.

Her fingers traced the outline of her wedding band, the cold metal a reminder of all she had lost.

"Why me?" She asked suddenly. Red Skull looked at her with something close to pity, though it was difficult to read on his stone-like face."Does everyone get this option?"

“No,” he replied, his voice cold but edged with something else—something ancient. “Not everyone. Only those whose actions have carried weight—those whose sacrifices have been… significant. You’ve walked a path of endless struggle. Death has followed you, yet you fight; you sacrifice, again and again, not just for others but for a purpose greater than yourself. It is rare to see such a soul. That is why I offer this choice to you.”

Natasha absorbed his words, her mind racing. Her life had always been a series of choices, but this… this was different. A chance to leave it all behind and be reborn, or to give everything, including herself, to save others.

Her thoughts drifted to Stella, still tucked in her arms, her innocent eyes full of love and trust. Could she really leave this behind? Could she live with the knowledge that the mother her children knew would never return to them?

“Why me?” Natasha repeated, her voice soft but unwavering. “Why offer this to me and not to someone else? There have been countless others who’ve given everything… so why now?”

Red Skull didn't answer immediately, the silence hanging heavily in the air.

Red Skull's gaze softened, just for a moment. “Because you are more than what you think yourself to be. You have been a weapon, a force of destruction, and a beacon of hope. You’ve fought against fate, against what you thought you were destined for. This is your moment to choose what you wish your legacy to be. Either way, you shape your own fate.”

Natasha stood still, her heart thundering. Red Skull waited for her decision. The silence hung heavy between them, thick with the moment's gravity.

Natasha swallowed, her hand tightening into a fist at her side. "And if I choose to leave? To reincarnate—what happens to them? To Clint, to my team… my daughter?"

"They will live," Red Skull said, his voice almost too calm, too sure. "They will carry on, their memories untouched. But you will be gone. Your place in the universe will be filled by someone else."

Natasha closed her eyes, the words weighing heavy on her. It was an impossible decision, one she couldn’t fathom.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't choose."

"Mama," Stella questioned. It seemed she was waiting for an answer, too.

"I'm sorry," Natasha let the tears fall this time. "I'm so sorry, Solnyshko." She whimpered.

Red Skull looked at her, his expression almost sympathetic.

"It is not a choice, Natasha. It is a sacrifice. One you have already made."

"Okay, okay, I'm ready." Natasha breathed. "I'm sorry, baby." She kissed Stella's forehead. She could only hope you would forgive her.

*********

"It was supposed to be me. She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone. She bet her life on it," Clint ranted. "She jumped, and one of us had to explain this to Nicky."

Thor and Banner exchanged puzzled glances. The tension in the room is thick; Clint’s grief is a raw wound, and their shared loss weighs on everyone. But this—this was something they hadn’t anticipated.

"Who is Nicky?" Bruce questioned.

Clint’s shoulders slumped as if the question's weight was too much. He took a shuddering breath, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Nicky’s her son,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nat didn’t talk about him much… she didn’t want to endanger him. She kept him safe, hidden, but he’s… he’s still so young.”

“Are you telling us that Nat… that she left behind a child?” Bruce asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

Clint nodded, swallowing hard. “She did it for him, you know. She did it for all of us, for everyone that got snapped. But he was part of that, too. Part of the reason she…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Thor’s expression shifted from confusion to a deep, somber respect. “A mother’s sacrifice… to protect her child,” he murmured almost reverent.

"Children," Tony supplied.

"What?" Clint looked at Tony.

"There were two children. She had Stella," Tony reminded him. "It was for them. For her wife."

Clint glanced up, anger and anguish flashing in his eyes. “And now he’s alone. She’s gone, and he’s got no one.” His voice cracked as he stumbled over the words. “Who’s going to be there for him? Who’s going to tell him why his mom never came back?”

Bruce placed a comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, his eyes sincere. “Then we’ll be there for him,” he promised. “If Natasha’s son needs family, he’s got us. Whatever he needs—support, protection, anything.”

Thor nodded firmly, the resolve clear in his gaze. “We owe her that much. And I’ll ensure he knows exactly who his mother was—a warrior, a hero. The bravest among us.”

That landed heavily among all of them.

*********

You'd been appalled when Happy suggested a joint funeral for Tony and Natasha. The idea left a bitter taste in your mouth. A funeral for Natasha—your Natasha—sounded absurd. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. Not her.

You’d spent five years in limbo, caught between one breath and the next, with no awareness of the time passing. One moment, you were home in Missouri, watching your children play in the den, and the next… nothing. It wasn’t like sleep or even unconsciousness. It was as if you simply didn’t exist. And then, just as suddenly, you were back. But the world you returned to had shifted and moved forward in ways you couldn’t yet wrap your mind around.

Nicky had grown so much taller than you remembered. No longer the little boy you’d kissed goodnight, he was older now, with five years of life etched into his features, years you’d missed as his mother. The last time you saw him, he was just one year old, approaching his second birthday, which you'd planned together. Now, at eight, he was still small but no longer the toddler you had once held in your arms.

In some ways, he was a stranger, a person with a life outside your knowledge. You missed five years of his life.

And now, with no warning, the universe had ripped away the only constant in your life.

It didn't make sense. The universe had brought you back only to take her away. She couldn't be gone.

So you refused the funeral. It was a denial, an attempt to reject the reality thrust upon you. You didn’t need a funeral for someone who wasn't dead. She would come home. You wouldn't bury an empty casket.

And then you looked at your children—two pieces of your heart, tethering you to a reality you could hardly stand. You wanted to honor Natasha, for them, if nothing else. None of this made sense. None of it felt right. But you knew you had to push forward.

That morning, you dressed them with shaking hands, pausing often to steady yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot from a night spent wrestling with grief, exhaustion, and disbelief. You’d barely slept, remembering Natasha and the impossible circumstances that had brought you here. But for Nicky and Stella, you had to keep going.

They sat before you now in Tony’s lake house, their small, trusting faces watching you closely. Everyone else was waiting downstairs—the Avengers, friends from all over, people whose lives she had touched. But before you joined them, you needed this quiet moment with your children to prepare them for the hardest goodbye any of you had ever faced.

"It's time for us to say goodbye to Mama," You breathed. You took both of their hands and kissed each of them. "I know we don't want to. This is the last thing I want to do, but..."

Stella was staring at her feet, a sullen, pained look on her face.

"It's going to be hard. I'm gonna miss her, too," You told him. "But we're gonna get through it. We're gonna be okay."

You turned to Nicky. He was watching you, his face serious. He'd been quiet all morning, barely speaking. He'd lost both parents at different periods of his life. He didn't know what to make of the idea that this was his reality.

"Do you have questions?" You asked him. "About anything?"

"Is Mama... is she coming back?"

You took a deep breath. "No, Nicky. She's not."

He looked down at his shoes, his little eyebrows drawn together. You wanted to hold him and make the pain disappear, but you couldn't. He barely knew you. It would take more than the days you'd known each other for him to trust you. The Snap had taken that bond away from you.

"We'll always remember her. And she'll never forget us," You promised. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said softly.

You looked at Stella. She was probably so confused. You tugged at the skirt of her dress to get her attention.

"Baby, you alright?" You asked.

"Mama's not dead," She cried. "Why is Mama dead?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces.

"Oh, baby." You knelt and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I wish she were here."

"Where is she?"

"She's in heaven. She's with Grandma and Pop-Pop. They're taking care of her."

"But why?" Her lip trembled. It was in that way that always broke your heart.

"The world was a very bad place, and she sacrificed herself to fix it. She was a hero. She saved everyone, including you and Nicky."

"But why does that mean Mama's gone? Why can't she stay?"

You tried to blink away the tears forming.

"Sometimes things happen, and there's no reason, no logic. Sometimes, people leave, and we can't understand why."

"I want Mama. I don't want her to go," Stella's eyes watered. "Please."

"I know, baby. I know. So do I. I'm so sorry."

Stella leaned her head against your chest, her body shaking as she cried. You ran your hand through her hair and held her close, willing your warmth to be enough for the both of you.

Neihter of you were ready but it was something you had to do.

*********

Walking out of the lake house behind Pepper, Morgan, and Peter felt overwhelmed. It felt so wrong. There was no way Natasha was gone. You wanted to turn and run, find a way out of this reality, this nightmare. You scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces and others you'd only ever heard about through Natasha’s stories—a reminder of the secrecy you had kept to protect your family.

Clint and Laura met your eyes, offering quiet support, and you gave them a faint, shaky smile in return. Nicky clung tightly to your hand, his other hand holding a small bundle of Natasha’s favorite flowers. You adjusted Stella on your hip, feeling the weight of her tiny arms wrapped around you, grounding you in this surreal moment.

As you stepped closer to the water's edge, you noticed the questioning looks of some of the people gathered there. They didn’t know who you were; they didn’t know Natasha’s family had quietly existed all this time. Ignoring the stares, you focused on what you came here to do, offering Natasha this final act of love.

Pepper placed her flowers gently on the water, a quiet tribute to Tony. Then, with a soft nudge, you guided Nicky forward. He stepped up, his small fingers trembling as he let the flowers slip into the lake. Nicky's dog, Ollie, had darted out of the house and now pressed his nose against Nicky's hand, sensing the boy’s sadness.

"Goodbye, Tony," he said softly, his eyes shining with tears. "Goodbye, Mama."

Pepper reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Then she did the same for you and Stella, her expression solemn.

"Bye, Tony," Stella murmured, her face pressed against your chest. "Bye-bye, Mama."

Stella didn't know him. She didn't have memories of Tony, but she felt compelled to follow in her brother's steps.

You listened as Pepper began speaking, sharing memories of Tony and words of remembrance. You held it together, swallowing back the ache in your chest as her voice wavered over the water. She looked at you when she finished, nodding gently—it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, holding Stella close, and faced the gathering.

"Natasha is..." You breathed. That wasn't right. "Natasha was my wife." You began. "She was a wife and a mother." You looked down at Nicky's proud eyes. "She loved harder than anyone I'd ever known. She was kind and strong and loyal."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"But above all, she was brave. She was the bravest woman I'd ever met. And we will miss her. Every day. Every second. We will carry her memory with us." You sighed. "For eight long years, Natasha was my rock. Long before then, she was my everything. She gave me two beautiful children. Two amazing little humans who made every moment worth it. They remind me so much of her. A lot of you never knew about me. Never knew about us. It was better that way. Our own little secret. This family was something only we knew."

"But I'm telling you now because... If anyone needs to know about Natasha and how incredible she was, it's the people here. You knew her better than anyone. You've shared her battles, her victories. She was part of your family. So, for everyone who's not part of mine, let me share it with you. Let me tell you about her." You continued. You felt stronger the more you talked. "Having a person makes life easier to live. Having Natasha made my life so much better. She was the best thing that ever happened to me."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. "Natasha and I didn't meet under ideal circumstances. She was a spy, and I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. We worked together on missions. Eventually, those late nights turned into something more. I was lucky enough to know her as a teammate. Later, I got to see the other side of her, the one only a few people knew. She was a good person. One of the best."

Your eyes found Clint's, and he nodded in understanding. He was the one who'd first introduced you.

"It wasn't always easy. Life never is. There were times when it was difficult. Hard choices, difficult sacrifices. But she always made sure to make things right, no matter what it cost her."

You wiped away a stray tear and took a shuddering breath.

"We will never forget her. Not a day will go by when I don't think about her. Her sacrifice will be felt for generations." You sniffed. "I can't promise I won't spend every waking moment wishing she were here. Wishing I could kiss her or hold her or hear her voice one more time. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure our children never forget her. She deserved better. A long, happy life. A future with all of us."

The dam burst, and you held back a sob. Pepper's soothing hand rubbed your back. She felt this grief, too.

"But if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that sometimes things just don't go the way we plan. And that's okay. We'll figure out how to move forward without her. We'll carry her in our hearts and minds and keep living the best lives we can."

*********

It had been three weeks of slowly packing away Natasha’s life, boxing up memories and fragments of her identity. Clearing out her apartment felt surreal; each item you wrapped and labeled was a bittersweet reminder. The decision to move Nicky away from his childhood home had been hard, but you knew it was time for a fresh start, somewhere the kids could grow and heal.

At precisely 8 a.m., the moving truck pulled up, ready to transport everything to your new brownstone. Natasha’s SUV idled in the street as you trailed behind the movers, the last piece you had yet to part with. It wasn’t as if you needed it in New York, but something about selling it felt too final, like letting go of another piece of her.

You ran a hand along the dashboard, the smell of Natasha still lingering, even after all this time. Going back to Missouri felt even harder—that was the home you had chosen together. You’d have to make the trip eventually to pack it up, but the thought alone made your chest tighten.

Lost in thought, you were brought back to reality by a voice from the backseat.

“No, I’m the big sister!” Stella was arguing, her voice firm with a tiny pout on her face.

You turned around, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Stella, honey, you’re not the big sister anymore. Nicky’s older than you.”

Stella scrunched her nose in defiance. “But I feel like the big sister!”

You laughed softly. “I know, sweetie. But it doesn’t work that way.”

Before she could fire back with more questions, something outside caught her attention. “Look, Mama! Another moving truck!”

You saw the large truck parked halfway across the road, its bulk blocking your path. Irritated but resigned, you parked Natasha’s SUV and climbed out, hoping to get them to move just enough so you could pass.

"Excuse me, I have a m—" you started to say but stopped. Your breath caught in your throat, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine.

The movers were busy unloading furniture and boxes into the back of the truck, oblivious to your sudden stillness. You watched them work, your heartbeat growing louder, filling your ears. As you approached, a woman stepped out beside the truck, brushing her hands off her jeans. She had blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and sharp green eyes that locked onto yours. There was something vaguely familiar about her, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey there! Sorry about the truck blocking the way. I was just helping unload,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m Kelly. Just moving in next door.”

You introduced yourself, feeling a slight tug of recognition but pushing it aside. “Nice to meet you, Kelly. We’re actually moving in too. Guess we’re going to be neighbors. Where are you moving from?"

"Nebraska," Kelly nodded. "I'm a doctor. I wanted a bit of change. For some reason, I felt drawn to New York, so now I'm here."

You gave her a tight smile, wondering why her voice sounded so familiar. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you enjoy it here. We'd love to have you over for dinner once we get settled. "

Kelly's smile widened, her gaze turning almost hopeful. "I'd like that."

fin

[malk1ns]

november 8 2024 @ capitals, 4-2 win

the next part in my soulbond series (1, 2, 3, 4). hope you like it!

Sid can feel this season rapidly slipping out of his grasp.

He’d had a lot of talks with Kyle over the summer. Kyle was up-front about his plans for the year, honest and forthright about what he realistically thought the team could do. Their final conversation before Sid signed his extension ended with Kyle telling him, the Penguins are your team, Sidney, but if the direction we’re headed isn’t how you want to finish your career, I understand. It’s up to you.

He’d signed. He’s staying. It wasn’t ever really a choice.

Sid thinks there’s still a part of him that hoped, though. He’s never going to give up on winning, never going to stop chasing the ultimate goal, and the part of his brain that asks his barber to shave down the hair on his temples until the gray is less visible is the same part that clung to the idea of contending.

And, well, anything’s possible. They’re not even a quarter of the way through the season. But.

Worse than the team, though, Sid can feel Geno slipping away.

Geno’s been avoiding him since the Islanders game. After the hellish Carolina blowout, Sid tried to pin him down for a conversation, to actually talk about this bond and how they can fix it, but Geno slipped away, insulated from Sid on the plane by the poker game group and practically running up to his hotel room when they landed in DC.

For a moment Sid even considered going to morning skate to corner him, but Geno’s gameday routine is even more rigid than Sid’s own, and Sid can’t bring himself to mess up Geno’s rhythm, not on a day like today.

Games against Washington always have a little extra importance. Sid takes every game seriously, of course he does, but he won’t lie and say that the Capitals don’t stand out on the calendar more than the rest. Especially now, with records in sight and careers coming to an end.

It’s why he loses his temper and screams on the bench when they blow another lead again in the second.

Losing to an opponent because they’re just better than you is one thing. But what Sid can’t abide, won’t tolerate, is a lack of effort, sloppy play and ignoring the details and fundamentals, making careless mistakes that lead to chances against.

His line is playing well. He can’t say the same for anyone else.

At intermission, Sully stays out of the room at first, and Sid lets loose all his frustrations with the year so far, his anger at the losing streaks and his own struggles, and shouts the team down until they’re properly cowed. And when the coaching staff comes in again, Sid marches up to Sully and tells him to take Geno off the top line.

He says it loud enough for most of the guys to hear, but he doesn’t look over to see what face Geno’s making.

Geno’s been on his wing because of a bond he clearly doesn’t want, and Sid’s been taking advantage of it. If Sid can’t score with the wingers he has, he deserves any failures coming his way.

He spares a thought for his parents, somewhere up in the stands because Sid’s getting close to yet another milestone. Maybe he should tell them to go home.

It was the right decision. Partway through the third, Geno reads a rebound like only he can, breaks the tie, and the Penguins don’t look back.

Winning in Washington always means a lot, but even watching Alex smash his stick and yell at himself on the Capitals’ bench as time ticks down doesn’t make Sid feel better. He keeps his head down when he strips out of his gear, spends entirely too much time on a cooldown bike, and is the last one on the bus, barely making it before Sully would have started yelling about him being late.

At least they have the weekend off.

Sid can feel Geno watching him on the plane. Normally after a road trip like this, Geno would commandeer the window seat next to him, sprawl out and get his legs in Sid’s space, jostling him until Sid relaxed enough to laugh and poke back, the two of them picking at each other until they settled enough to get some sleep.

Nobody takes the empty seat next to Sid this time. He tugs his hat over his eyes and purposely thinks about nothing. At least it’s a short flight.

When they’re deboarding in Pittsburgh, for the first time ever Sid reaches out with the bond on purpose.

The recoil he gets from Geno is enough to send him practically running to his car, racing through the quiet streets to Sewickley faster than he’d normally drive. He feels sick.

Geno might hate him. It was Sid’s lagging production that pulled him into this bond, after all, chained Geno to his side for a week until Sid stopped being selfish and forced them apart again. Geno had been sick, Geno hadn’t been producing, and the second Sid let him free he scored, so… Sid can’t say with confidence that he wouldn’t be furious if their roles were reversed.

He’s so wrapped up in his own self-recriminations that he doesn’t realize Geno’s coming over until he hears a key in his lock, and suddenly Geno’s presence in the back of his mind is inescapable.

“Sid?” Geno calls, and Sid, sitting at his island in his dark kitchen, drops his head into his hands and waits.

When Geno finds him, he swears long and low, a tumble of Russian that Sid would have gotten the gist of even without the bond pulsing concern and guilt his way.

He flinches when Geno flicks the lights on, blinking up at where Geno’s suddenly looming over him.

“We need to talk,” Geno says, and Sid stares at him helplessly, because what is there to say?

Geno shakes his head and sits on the stool next to him, pressing their knees together. Sid feels a wash of relief at the contact so powerful he has to blink away dizzy darkness from the corners of his vision. Geno frowns, the downturned corners of his mouth digging lines into his face. In the harsh overhead lights, he looks haggard, skin pale under the remnants of his summer tan and the bags under his eyes dark and pronounced.

“My fault,” Geno says, holding up one big hand when Sid opens his mouth. “It’s me who starts this, like, after Sochi. I’m think probably I know it’s there and we’re ignore for so long it’s say, no more, has to happen. We have to fix or we’re sick for season.”

Sid shakes his head. “It’s me who made it…whatever,” he says, gesturing. He doesn’t know the right words for what’s happening to them, never read up on bonds because he never expected to have one. “Like, I needed you and made it…this.”

“You needed me,” Geno repeats, and his voice is toneless, but Sid feels a soft bloom of…something in the bond, something that makes him want to reach out and touch.

“I always need you,” Sid mutters, staring at his hands instead of Geno’s face. Almost twenty years together on this team and it shouldn’t feel so strange to admit, of course they need each other, but something about saying it now, out loud…the way he’s feeling, the way he can tell Geno is feeling, makes the words feel fraught.

There’s a long silence, and when Sid looks up, Geno’s biting his lip. “Don’t know what to do,” he admits, and Sid shouldn’t feel relief there, but at least he’s not alone in feeling totally lost.

There’s no real literature for this, not really. They haven’t even been able to have more than a few quick consults with bond specialists since they’ve been on the road.

Sid startles a little when Geno reaches out and covers Sid’s hands with one of his own. His palm is a little damp, but he’s warm, and his hand is big enough to cover both of Sid’s where they’re twisting in his lap.

It’s late. They both should get sleep, even with two full days off from games.

They sit in Sid’s kitchen in silence as night deepens outside.

[1moreff-creator]

What are some dynamics (in terms of like, foils/parallels) that you enjoy in DRDT?

you’re staring at a forest and asking me for every tree i like. do you want me to write another 28k word post /lh

I jest, of course, but not about the number of interesting foils in this series. It does a fantastic job tying everyone into several key themes in ways that make their dynamics endlessly enriching for my silly little character parallel-loving brain. So, uh, get ready for a long-ish post?

CW: One mention of self-harm, self-loathing

Teruko-David: I mean, you gotta start at the center, yeah? David’s the closest thing to a “main antag” we have, and it’s no wonder; the guy’s built like a standard DR protag, obviously he’s gonna have a cool dynamic with the actual protagonist. 

These two could breathe a bit weird and somehow parallel each other doing it, that’s how much this foil permeates both their characters. From their fatalistic outlooks on the world (“my luck will always be terrible, I’ll always be betrayed” vs “people can’t change, the world sucks”), the ways they hide their feelings (Teruko was more distrustful than she first presented herself as, but cares about people more than she shows during most of CH2; while David has an entire different persona up to 2-11 and then pretends to be worse than he actually is), the self-loathing (Teruko refuses to think she could be a good person, David has the whole “inhuman” thing going on), down to the oddball sibling figure (Terubro “I know nothing about you” Tawaki vs Diana “I’m not even sure you exist” Chiem).

There’s their feelings about Xander and Min, too, which are all over the place. Obviously we all saw in 2-12 how much the British twink fucked both of them up severely, with Teruko rejecting any positive or yearning feelings she may have had about Xander (you can’t hide the cactus scene from us girl) while David vehemently defended him from any criticism. On the other side, Min is less of a narrative poltergeist (for now; XF-Ture exists), but she still comes up with them, with David calling her pathetic eleven episodes after Min hugs Teruko and Teruko’s internal monologue gives away how much she cares about the Student. 

And these parallels play into their weird-ass dynamic very well, because their beefing is founded on their similarities and their differences, out of projecting their self-loathing to someone similar at the same time they hate each other because of their disagreements on things like Xander. Crazy stuff.

Xander-Min: Mentioning these two second because they’re also Eternal Parallels. There’s almost not a single thing about these two that isn’t somehow reflected on the other. If you projected them onto each other’s direction, you would get no perpendicular component. Get it, ‘cuz they’re completely parallel- That is, by far, the nerdiest joke I’ve ever made, I apologize.

But come on. Their attitudes towards fate (the Rebel fighting it and Min resigning herself to the XF-Ture thing), the whole “holding on to the past vs wanting to move on from the past” thing, the similarities between how they actually feel about the education system (they have issues with it) contrasted with the things they actually do in respects to that (Min is still the Ultimate Student, but Xander dislikes that), their already mentioned contrasting connections to Teruko and David… Just, absolutely everything about them is a meaningful contrast. And it comes into play a lot, with their eternal beef being born largely out of these parallels. They’re awesome.

Teruko-Ace: Pretty topical for post-CH2. Ace’s entire arc is sort of a reflection of Teruko’s, yet taken to the extreme because of one particular point of contrast; Ace feared death, Teruko doesn’t think she can die. But he still basically serves as a demonstration of all the flaws in Teruko’s all mindset; the feeling of unchangeable fate, the complete lack of trust, all the good stuff. It basically allows an exploration of Teruko’s mindset from an outside perspective, which makes it easier to see the flaws in it.

Ace-Nico: Also topical, these recap foils go kinda insane. Their motives for murder, their contrasting talents (love for animals on Nico's side and fear of horses on Ace's), the way they relate to the rest of the cast, Ace's persecution complex vs Nico actively disliking how much Hu defends them, etc., it’s all very fun to see play out. 

Ace-Levi: The one who doesn’t care but protects others and tries his best to be a good person so he can be accepted in society without having issues, vs the guy that acts like an asshole because he’s scared of caring too much and he thinks the only way he can get out alive is by being the only one to survive. This leads to a fundamental misunderstanding between them that causes some of the most doomed yaoi of all time, which is the whole “Levi getting frustrated at not understanding Ace.” 

Arei-David: You’ve presumably watched 2-13, so I don’t think I need to explain all the awesome stuff that’s come from their shared themes of “good people” and self-betterment and all that. Not to mention, David’s little breakdown over Arei trusting the letter of the only friend she had being presumably born from the way he saw Xander as the only friend he had. Shit goes crazy.

Arei-Eden: Recap foils… Good people… The choice to be kind… Etc… Woah :O

Teruko-Charles: Ah, Teru’s recap foil. This one’s basically opposite of Ace’s, where Charles used to be sort of like Teruko acted in CH2, but later became a bit friendlier, if still somewhat prickly. Basically, if Ace highlights Teruko’s character traits from CH2, Charles post CH1 serves as more or less the “end goal” in a way. It goes beyond that, too, with the whole memory issues (prosopagnosia vs childhood amnesia) and, again, mysterious siblings (Terubro and Elliot what are your deals), so it’s always neat to rotate these two in the brain.

Veronika-Levi: We really don’t know too much about Vero, which always makes it a bit harder when analyzing these dynamics, but they already got some interesting points of contrast. Neither of them are particularly concerned about the deaths of the others, at least post-CH2 (Levi doesn’t grieve and Vero actively laughs at Ace’s death), but it comes from almost opposite ends of perspective. Levi doesn’t understand others because he doesn’t feel much empathy (if any at all), while Vero seems to treat the others not as people, but almost as characters to be analyzed (that’s the impression I get, at least), which makes her come off as very good at reading people but also occasionally causes her to see them as sources of entertainment first and foremost. Not to mention there’s also the fact they’re both very different people than they were in the past (Levi was some form of delinquent and now is a good person, Vero used to be outdoorsy and then no longer was). Wow that’s… more than I thought there was- How am I finding more interesting foils just by writing more???

Hu-Levi: I kinda talked about this in my CH2 PT2 analysis so read that ig.

J-Rose: A pair of recap foils who haven’t had too much yet, but a lot of their themes, in particular about fate and privilege and stuff, are pretty noticeable with them, so this is always a fun dynamic to consider.

Levi-Arturo: More recap foils, this one’s fun because of the dead family member :) Also things like their talents being related to aesthetics and both doing the things they do for a better life.

Veronika-Hu: This one’s kinda more hypothetical, since Vero in particular hasn’t had as much direct focus as other characters yet, but that’s part of what makes them fun. Past history of self-harm (even if brought on by very different feelings) is just the first of many parallels they could have, and it’s fun to see the contrast between Hu defending Nico to the ends of the Earth and Vero talking about how much she likes Arturo because of how awful he is. They’re really silly.

David-Whit: All the recap foils are fun, but I've always struggled to see this one in particular. Partly because I feel like I know less about Whit than I know about Mai :v Still, certain things like Whit ignoring anything that upsets him which connects to David constantly lying about his real feelings for his fans, which is probably what leads to David's outburst at Whit in the second trial.

Teruko-MonoTV: Because fate. Really this is here plainly because it’s just a funny as hell dynamic to even consider lol.

Teruko-Mai: Have they interacted? Has Mai had enough screen time to truly determine that this parallel truly exists? Do we even know a single theme that Mai’s character touches on for certain? No and it doesn’t matter! Because these two are clearly connected somehow and the whole “someone dearly loved - someone dearly unloved” thing makes me ill. Mai is getting mentioned in this post and you're not stopping it.

Mai-Whit: Fuck it! “We tend to idolize the dead” dynamic!!! It's very speculative, but this one’s just fun to ponder even if we have even less idea of what could be going on between the two than with Mai-Teruko.

Anyways ready for a few themes that run through a lot of characters?

David-Levi-Nico-Rose: The “feeling disconnected from the rest of humanity’s experiences” gang!!!

Min-Rose-Hu-Veronika-Arturo: The “wants to move on from the past” gang!!!

Min-Arei-Teruko-Ace: The “trying to fix mistakes” gang!!!

Teruko-David-Eden-Arei-Levi-Xander: The “what makes a good person?” gang!!!

Teruko-David-Xander-Min-J-Whit-Ace-Rose-MonoTV-Probably everyone else: Fate!!!!

And there’s more than I’m probably forgetting because I can’t possibly check every conceivable connection between these guys. At least I hope I covered most of the major ones. Thanks for the ask, these dynamics are always fun to think about!

[jojotichakorn]

i started penning a post about how i always find it narratively unsatisfying when an arc ends with a conclusion the following arc breaks, regardless of how realistic the repetition of the same mistake might be, which is still true, but i actually want to talk about something else right now.

i feel like, at least at this stage, jack is in a position that is both generally unrealistic and untrue to the specific events of the series. 'jack and joker' has a clear focus on poverty and money and class issues, but it seems to treat jack in a very special way. he somehow manages to stand on the moral high ground above other characters. specifically, other poor characters. which is, first of all, a little ridiculous, since he was indeed a debt collector and, in fact, almost became the boss's son. and, second of all, is generally Not Great, because it does idolise the idea that if you "just try hard enough", you won't "allow" yourself to be backed into a corner and therefore won't have to do bad things.

now, don't get me wrong, i am not saying that our characters who have made mistakes are completely blameless. tattoo did shitty things (and hoy followed suit), safe did shitty things, hope frankly admitted to enjoying doing shitty things. however, if we zoom out a little, we will see that all these characters are in a situation that is inherently unfair to them. we have all of these poor people in immense amounts of debt and then we have this disgusting rich motherfucker whose entire wealth is literally based on making their lives as miserable and unfair as they are. and i think that, in this particular case, the series would have actually benefited from a dichotomy. don't get me wrong, i'm usually absolutely brimming with nuance and also asking "what lies outside of it?" but this shall be my exception. (though you could say that joke already brings some nuance to it - he is initially from a well-off family and he actively makes choices to the benefit of poor people, despite it resulting in him being ostracised from said family and its riches).

jack walks the line of being poor and managing not to do anything "too bad" like he is a fucking circus performer on a wire. and, don't get me wrong, he is genuinely a selfless character. he makes choices that a lot of other characters in the same circumstances wouldn't make. he remains in debt and continues working for the boss because he keeps trying to help people and pay off their debts first - that is admirable. however, he himself was already set up for more success than others. sure, being forced to become a debt collector isn't a walk in the park, but most other debtors didn't even have that choice. jack has to work for the boss in order to stay afloat - that is an undeniably hard task. the other people the boss collects debts from, however, have to come up with a lot of money out of thin air - that is not simply a hard task, that is an impossible one that is designed to trap them in the cycle of doing this impossible task forever. that being said, ultimately, jack is still poor. his own hamster wheel should be somewhere around the corner, that's always the case. this idea is where i wish they would have taken jack's arc.

from the moment when he refused to marry rose, there was no escape for him. finally, much like our other poor characters, he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. (and i think that it's very thematically appropriate for jack's particular "i can't do this anymore, i deserve to live a full life" sentiment to be connected to love, since he is, after all, a lead of a romance drama). he made the decision to say "no" and from that point on, he was completely and utterly fucked. because, realistically, that conversation that he had with the boss after refusing rose was insane. i don't know what he would have done to jack exactly, if that was a genuine conversation and there was no exchange of jack's freedom for the ring, but it would not have been anything good.

so i wish jack had to make the actual tough call there, instead of having joke save him all on his own (and later take the fall for it). and if it was, at least in some capacity, jack's decision to steal that ring, he would finally be placed in a situation where every other poor character already inevitably found themselves in. because the entire system is rigged against all of them and they are eventually always forced to do things that they should have never even had to consider in the first place. but they deserve better than living a life set up for them by evil rich people who literally live off of their suffering and they are allowed - no, at some point they simply have no choice but to - fight for a better life.

this, in my opinion, would have been a much more powerful message and - not to circle back to my personal preferences - would have also not left us with joke making the very same mistake that we decided we should never make again at the end of the previous arc.

[c-rose2081]

GOD I have to wonder how Briar is doing after all of this. Like finally coming back down and realizing what has happened. What she has done even if on accident at first and how the magic has corrupted her… poor Briar is always going through it.

And I imagine this only does so much more damage to her and Apple’s friendship if not pretty handily destroying what was left of it. I can’t imagine Apple is able to be around her much without feeling either horribly guilty about how she treated her for years or just generally unsafe in Briar’s presence now.

Mhm. Here’s the thing about that…I’m not sure Briar actually makes it out of Legacies Undone to return to Ever After.

She doesn’t die necessarily, but I think when the magic from the final battle shatters the false world, Briar’s dark fairy magic is reflected back at her. And because she was using the same magic that would eventually put her to sleep for 100 years, her curse is triggered as they’re all chucked back to the point in time when the false world was created (they return to the night of Thronecoming despite having lived many months in the false world). The Storybook of Legends is still in Wonderland, leading into Way Too Wonderland.

I don’t think Briar wakes up, better explaining her lack of presence in later series and giving Apple another piece of grief that eventually leads into her shattering during Dragon Games. Because Apple now gets to see exactly what Briar was afraid of this entire time, and feels the full impact of actually losing her best friend to one hundred years of enchanted sleep. Briar is placed in the highest tower of Ever After to fulfill her destiny, still in her tattered Thronecoming attire.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 57 Cope Posting

Not like this, dear void... not like this. The blessing/curse of Kagurabachi chapters ending in 7 being absolute banger cliffhangers continues and there is not enough copium in the world to get me through to next week. This entry is an absolute mess...

Let's start with practicing on the editor's comments again. Sorry if the colours are hard to read on brighter backgrounds, I live in Dark Mode as much as possible.

First page: ハクリが飛宗の転送に成功! そして- [Hakuri ga Tobimune no tensou ni seikou! Soshite-, Hakuri successfully transfers Tobimune! And then-] Last page: 座村, 漆羽… 事態は混沌へ… [Samura, Uruha... jitai ha konton he..., Samura, Uruha... the situation turns chaotic...] noting that the word used for "situation", jitai (事態), specifically has negative connotations (as opposed to 状況 [joukyou], which is neutral).

These comments are rarely more than fluff just to give the editors some presence in the work itself, so I don't take them as definite indicators of anything going on in the plot. But man. Man. "Bad situation" seems to be putting it lightly. I was ready to take you off the list of possible traitors, Samura! I was seriously going to do it! Whyyyyyyyyyyy

Chihiro and the Pink Menace

Fine, first up... school?

How does our cast stack up to the average student after getting home schooled in murder and cool action poses?

It was obvious to everyone that this arc would involve Chihiro learning about the unpleasant sides of his dad's legacy. So this is just a "hey don't forget" moment for us that also highlights how far removed Hiruhiko and Chihiro are from regular society. Those two (and Hakuri) should be in their last year of high school, complaining about homework or stressing about their future college/job plans right now instead of fighting to the death. Poor guys.

I don't want to presume too much about Hokazono-sensei's views, but I really like directly acknowledging that winners write history and so their wartime cruelty is often downplayed or re-framed as heroism. These kids and even Chihiro only know the revised version of what happened, not the truth of the matter.

Home schooled Chihiro confirmed! Kinda!

Anyway, some more John Plan Reveal. He wants Chihiro to learn the truth about his father's legacy and the impact it's had- that's why he hasn't been "harvested" yet. This implies that there's some terrible thing that could upend Chihiro's entire worldview to be learned. But we kind of already knew that based on everything I just said.

I hope this isn't a flag for John trying to convince Chihiro to join him. There are awful secrets that are going to be unearthed about Kunishige and the Kamunabi this arc for sure, but it's kind of a waste of our time to do the "oooh it was worse than you thought why don't you join us to set things right" rigamarole.

Obviously the Hishaku have some compelling reasons to do all this if they can get someone as loath to kill as Samura on their side to murk his war buddies. It's just never gonna convince Chihiro so I hope we don't get a moralizing yapfest to accompany John's outstretched hand. I trust the writing though! So far it's been almost nothing but excellence so... chill, me. Just wait and see.

I think that no matter what happens Chihiro will continue to forge his own path with allies who care for him at his side. He won't choose the government's path, or the Hishaku's, or even his dad's- he'll create something new. Standard stuff for a shounen series but I never get tired of seeing it!

Before moving on to the coping session, there's something neat in this scene that I want to ramble about:

Local yapper yaps while the guy listening to him literally overthinks

I'll use the JP version if I have to, but I like how Chihiro's inner monologue deliberately overruns Hiruhiko's speech bubble to show that he's not paying full attention while his thoughts are in overdrive. He's still partially listening but he's not quite as composed as he appears to be on the outside, which is confirmed by the close-up zoom into his stressed look with the sweat drops. Yet when we zoom out, he seems a bit more put-together like usual. He's still exhausted from yesterday, man! Really should have rested up... at least the author acknowledges it. (Forced bed rest soon? Hopefully?)

This is how Hiruhiko was able to get the drop on Chihiro. Chihiro's got a lot on his mind and he has trouble focusing, just like Uruha chided him for on the train. His resolve is unshaken but he's still prone to wavering in the moment as he tries to process things. He even misses the fist time Samura's name was mentioned! Clearly Chihiro needs Hakuri or Uruha or someone there to yell encouragement at the right time to stop him from getting lost in his own head. But he's got a lot to think about and work through right now, so it's understandable why he's so stressed out.

Poor Chihiro. He's coming to the conclusions that we, the readers privileged with having weeks IRL to ponder new information, came to long ago. The Master is not treated like a hero but a prisoner, and probably for very, very good reasons. Ones good enough to convince Samura to make a deal with the devil.

What Actually Happened?!

Not all the blades have themes from nature, it seems. Geisha offered many different types of entertainment to guests, from performing music to conversation to serving sake. So now we have the idea behind the name [Swaying Sake]!

First up to delay just a little longer: Kumeyuri power reveal! Seems to be based in some kind of performing arts aesthetic with the geisha that were conjured. Fitting for the guy who wears kabuki eye make-up right? ...And for the next bearer, who interrupted a kabuki performance to pick it up in a theater... I see you and your foreshadowing, Hokazono-sensei.

Fine. I'll admit it. The ending of the chapter makes it crystal clear that Hiruhiko is the new bearer contracted to Kumeyuri by having his origami butterflies come undone as he grasps the hilt in his teeth. Can't even hope it's another case of someone "borrowing" power like Kyora did with the Shinuchi of the bunch.

Magatsumi's the only blade that can be used by someone not contracted to it, hence the extra protections it needed.

So that means... yeah. Uruha's gone. Just like that.

There will be thousands of theories about what exactly happened to Uruha, why Samura made a deal with John, what the details of that deal were- we'll get the truth soon. I'm most interested in the reasoning that ties into Samura's sincere beliefs of killing being an evil act.

The burden of death weighs so heavily on him that he blinded himself in penance. But he's willing to let his own apprentice die -probably even kill him himself!- because of... what? What was so horrible about fighting with the Master and Kunishige's weapons for the good of the nation? What compelled him to help the Hishaku kill the remaining bearers and upend the peace they earned?!

Hey, Samura. Is it really so bad to be called a war hero while being treated like a prisoner in a comfortable government-provided jail facility? Is it so horrible that "alternative facts" pass for real history to bury whatever horrors you witnessed and possibly perpetrated? Is it truly awful to have people willing to die for you despite all the grave sins you've committed? That they're likely completely unaware of thanks to government propaganda and being too young to have witnessed the truth?

...I need those Seitei War flashbacks pronto.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Wait a minute. Jail? Even the friggin' onsen?

Yup! The Master's the only one being treated like a dangerous criminal outright, but the 慚箱 [sanso] are just dressed up prisons for the Bearers. The Kamunabi ain't even subtle about it.

慚 [san] - to feel shame 箱 [sou] - box

The government put these guys in specially-constructed (or repurposed) buildings officially referred to as "shame boxes" and told them they couldn't leave. Even the name given to one of them is a bit much! 国獄温泉 [Kokugoku Onsen] translates to:

国 [koku]- country/state/national government 獄 [goku]- jail/prison 温泉 [onsen] - hot spring

Gee, I wonder if Uruha was having a good time at State Prison Hot Springs?

That said, while there may well be some bitterness between the Bearers and the Kamunabi, it's not the main motivating factor for Samura. His is definitely rooted in how they all acted during the war and how guilty he feels now that they're promoted as heroes.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

It looks like Chihiro's being summoned by Hakuri in the very last panel so we might get some perspective on Samura's reasoning next week. Probably no clear answers right away, but at least enough to see if he really was the one who killed Uruha and a bit of insight into why. And to see if Uruha's dead at all... I mean, if we don't see a body... let me be delusional, okay?!

I'm just not able to go all-in on believing Uruha's dead. But it's not because I don't think he actually is... it just doesn't feel real after spending weeks preparing to let go of Samura. Not to mention the tried-and-true tactic of baiting out strong emotions with implied character deaths.

Normally I don't take death foreshadowing like this too seriously in shounen series. I just wait to see if the author is faking me out or not before getting stressed (unless it's Hakuri, in which case I stress responsibly). But Kagurabachi is a series that lured the MC with a child's severed leg and showed two suicide attempts on-screen, one of which was horrifically successful- right in front of someone who was already traumatized too. Hell we lost most of the anti-Kuregumo squad without much fanfare back in the Sojo arc! Only actually showing a child being tortured on-screen is too much, apparently. This series is dark as hell when the author wants it to be and Uruha's death is probably another one of those times.

There's hope in me that Uruha can still come out of this alive just because I like him so much, but I want the author to follow through on his death when it's presented as such an ominously real scenario. All signs point to Uruha being a goner, so don't make it look iron-clad then say "nah" the next chapter with some technicality that we couldn't have known about until the reveal. I would rather lose Uruha in an unexpectedly painful way than be faked out just to get the reaction out of me, y'know? Don't toy with me. Commit to crushing my heart, dammit.

But, God... oh man. I fell for the bait and got stupidly attached to a Bearer in the arc named after killing them. I even knew bad times were coming because of all the levity at the start of the arc but still went on hoping nothing would happen so soon. Laugh at me, I deserve it. I probably helped this manifest by mentioning how awful it would be if Chihiro found out a Bearer died because Hiruhiko was able to contract with one of the blades. Saying "I crave the angst that will come from this situation with every fiber of my being" in a post tag was overkill. It's just:

Author: names the arc after assassinating the bearers

Reader: gets attached anyway

Author: assassinates a bearer

Reader: ╚(•⌂•)╝

Coping Theory

May as well put my two cents in on how it could have gone down while I'm here...

I wonder if he planned to die in the raid instead so it looked like an unavoidable accident, sparing everyone else from the carnage.

This exact sequence- the Makizumi talking about honor in death for saving Samura, and Uruha's words that the Bearer's lives need to be valued above others'- is what solidifies Samura's resolve. This man is filled to the brim with guilt and self-loathing (much like another swordsman we know). He cannot save himself, but... perhaps he can take some equally bad sinners down with him for the greater good. He's not only a mirror for Hakuri, but Chihiro as well- one's resolve to save no matter the cost to one's self, and one's resolve to go to hell for what they believe is right. That's how I'm reading this until we get his own insight on the matter, at least.

It's not a stretch to infer that Samura thinks the Bearers are better off dead in large part due to the powers they command and things that were done during the war. That's still a huge mystery to be unraveled but I mean:

Seeing the bare minimum of Magatsumi in action really drives home how horrific these "heroes" could seem out on the battle field doesn't it? No wonder the clone sorcerer described the Seitei war as "hell on earth". But the public has no knowledge of this. They only got the sanitized version fit for PR purposes and feel-good stories.

The Hishaku seem to be intent on dismantling this image. Perhaps that's how they got Samura on their side? Not sure how the current Bearers dying and giving the Hishaku access to that dreadful power is better than the status quo, but that's something that will become clear with more reveals about the ideology driving the group. Maybe Samura doesn't care so much about the rest of the world and just wants to do what's best for the truth that's been buried under nearly two decade's worth of secrecy.

As to what happened with Uruha... two things come to mind. One I think is more likely, and one I want to cling to until it's ripped away as I sob and beg for just one little bit of comfort.

Most likely, I think Samura and Uruha had an exchange about ideals and the value of their lives. Samura overpowered Uruha per the plan as the "trump card" and that was that.

In delulu land, I want Samura to have been double-crossed. As in he made a deal on the condition that the lives of the people he cared about would be spared, but of course Uruha couldn't be allowed to live. So the Hishaku ensured that he'd die there no matter what. It's a bunk theory since Mr. Hatshaku left once the situation turned against him... maybe incorporate some of the datenseki mind control stuff in there somehow? I don't know. Just let me have this until canon proves otherwise.

Hakuri and Chihiro, Though?! And Miscellaneous Questions

(Ch. 46) I'm not going to be okay for a while and neither are they.

Best boys are really gonna go through it no matter what Chihiro is summoned back to. They'll be in a rough way... not only did they lose Uruha and hand Kumeyuri to Hiruhiko, but Samura betrayed them all... oof. So much for proving themselves to the Kamunabi. They're going to get an earful and be set back in the "negotiations" big time.

No doubt Chihiro will put this burden on his shoulders too, even if no one could have predicted Samura's defection to the enemy. It's his dad's legacy that's causing all this strife right now. He'll be more motivated than ever to unravel the war's true history and I'll be right there with him hoping he doesn't push himself too hard or harshly. The son shouldn't be responsible for the sins his father committed before he was even born. But that's just like, my opinion, man.

Meanwhile...

"I'm still good for it," wheezes the guy with blood gushing out of his nose at an alarming rate.

Hakuri will probably blame himself too. Depending on how things shake out, it could be for anything from accidentally arming a traitor to seeing someone die in front of him again. There's a good chance he'll (temporarily) lose the thing that makes him useful too, so that'll be an extra layer of angst for him to deal with. What value does a broken tool that couldn't fulfill it's one purpose have?

I also wonder what prompted Hakuri to summon Chihiro away from Hiruhiko. He's kind of in rough shape to do it just 'cause he misses his (boy)friend. They have cell phones to communicate with so it seems a bit abrupt to summon him back without checking first. Hakuri's also not the type to impose on someone to protect him. Nor is he the type to drop Chihiro into the middle of a life-or-death situation without a sense of mutual understanding first. So there had to be some kind of pressing need. The timeline of events means he's summoning Chihiro right after Uruha was killed, so... more soulmate stuff maybe? Their souls call out to each other and resonate when they're in distress, after all (it's canon baybeeeeee). They're in perfect harmony and all that. Sorry for the shipping nonsense I just need any bit of fluff I can get right now.

So many questions that might not get answered...

What about the Makizumi? Will they defect to serve Samura? Or will they try to help get Hakuri to safety with the Kamunabi? Samura doesn't want to kill them at all so no matter what happens they'll live at least. Hooray an elite squad that didn't bite the dust... (I think they will choose Samura because of everything he did for them).

How did Hiruhiko know when Kumeyuri was usable anyway?! Was it some signal from his mystery supporter that was lurking outside the window? And who was that- did Worst Jeanist show up?

Samura's loath to kill innocents, but does Hakuri count as one? Would losing his sorcery be enough to count him as neutralized for the Hishaku's purposes? Was exhausting Hakuri the main reason why Hiruhiko sent all the forces to the temple in the first place?

Hiruhiko wasn't surprised to see Tobimune disappear, so the Hishaku probably know about Hakuri's power. Their mole within the Kamunabi should get a bonus for the turnaround time on learning that bit of info and sending it on. Unless John's playing 5D chess and knew about Hakuri's awakening and team-up with Chihiro before they even met the Kamunabi anyway... perhaps even orchestrated it too... that would definitely need a very good explanation.

Alright. Okay. Let's wait on tenterhooks together, dear void. No waterworks until they show the body, got it?

[sob]

[laniemae]

“I think I have to climb to the top of the hill if I wanna see what's going on on the other side...”

Drew this through tears as an acceptance that Ojima will be the killer of this chapter and that he’ll die and I’ll never see him again.

Vent/rant under cut

——— I’m actually crying right now while writing this. I can’t see any other possibility where Ojima isn’t the killer. Just everything story wise and plot and symbolic wise makes sense. He’s already the prime suspect with his shaky alibi, him going to the medbay at midnight, the blood on Hiroaki’s bed where he slept for the night, his strange disassociating more than usual. 

At this point there’s so much evidence pointing towards Ojima being the one who killed Chiba I’m already grieving his inevitable death this trial. Just, even with the parallels between him and Chiba with the story time episode where he wrote a children’s book with her, hence the text in the art referencing that. And how that one time he talked during his dissociative haze he said the exact words that Chiba said to him while writing the book. I can only think of this as Ojima in shock with how he killed her. There’s also their parallels as well with both having sorts of age regression and coping by living through a childish fantasy lens. It’d be so sad thinking how that could be symbolic of Ojima killing a perception of himself. And with Ojima being a children’s book illustrator who had his childhood taken away from him and Chiba looking like a child and having a similar form of regression I can’t imagine how tragic this story would play out through with the trial. 

I really thought Ojima would have more time as I felt it’d be inevitable we’d get a breakdown scene with his PTSD and learning more about that story, but with how things are going I could imagine that happening during the trial. God I don’t even wanna imagine how his execution would be if it goes the route on playing up his trauma, these killing game staff are sadists and I could completely imagine them doing that, especially with the mention of working on the execution in the staffside.

I’m also in absolute tears over his relationship with Hiroaki. Just… purple is so devastating with the likely idea that Ojima is the killer, and even imagining if he already killed at that time. Them sharing an intimate moment and Hiroaki confessing how he’s so reliant and attached to him and how they’re basically codependent, and as well with how he’s almost finished the drawing for Ojima. When he’s the killer he’ll never be able to show it to him and he’ll have absolutely no one by his side anymore who cares about him or even loves him. It would be the most heartbreaking thing ever.

Ojima is such an incredibly amazing character like I’ve never seen before I can’t prepare for him to be the chapter 2 killer… he would’ve gone too early and I’m such despair. I’ll never be able to see him again in the series, he’ll never speak again I’ll never be able to get exited whenever an episode pops up in a thumbnail he’ll never dissociate again he’ll never be funny and sassy again he’ll never help Hiroaki to open up again he’ll never have a hilariously gay moment with Hiroaki again. He’s lived 16 years of his life going through the worst abuse a human could face, only for when he escapes to be dragged into a killing game and forced to commit a murder of someone who shares so much similarities with him. I’m already feeling the effects of his death a week before it happens and I’d rather fall into despair than yearn for hope only to have it taken away from me. I can’t imagine how I’ll be able to watch tetro with Ojima gone forever. I have been crying the entire day over this and my tears are making this hard to write.

[tinfoil-jones]

For Your Own Good: Intermission

Askbox? Open

If you don't know what this post is about, "For Your Own Good" or tagged as "Early Amnesia AU" on tumblr is a dialogue-only Gravity Falls fanfiction I've been working on that kinda-sorta follows a Mystery Trio -esque timeline, where Ford doesn't build the portal. To sum it up, the whole fanfiction boils down to:

Researcher Ford: I told you I never wanted to see you again.

Mullet Stan: Dude, I don't know who you are or WTF you're talking about right now, but I'm leaving this town and never coming back. You are never seeing me again after this. I'm probably going to forget you in like five minutes.

Researcher Ford:

Researcher Ford: *immediately kidnaps him*

You can consider chapters 1-10 to be Act 1 of the fanfic, and I’m taking a break for at least a week, most likely longer. The chapters so far were already written out in advance, and so was a huge reveal, but I still need to tie things together.

Here’s some authors notes/extra stuff about it, some of it might have already been put in the AO3 before or after notes. These are in no particular order:

This takes place 10 years after Ford and Stan were separated, currently they are both 27 about to be 28. Fiddleford is slightly older than them, being in his early 30s.

Ford is unironically the only person who finds Stan’s really dumb jokes funny.

Ford is the one who displays the most behaviours that would be seen from Mabel and Dipper decades later. Like Dipper, he views washing clothes as a waste of time, and like Mabel he ate an entire tube of toothpaste (granted, it was on accident)

While Ford is the more likely of the two to display traits that later present in Mabel and Dipper, it still happens with Stan as well. Stan has a similar nervous-chewing habit that Dipper displays in the OG series, but his only comes out when he’s particularly anxious. In this case, it was because he had nicotine cravings.

The 'That motherfucker is ugly' line that Stan used on Ford can be considered extra ironic because of how much the Stan Twins look like their dad.

Bill Cipher was originally supposed to speak in Times New Bastard (which is Times New Roman except every 7th letter is jarringly sans serif, a meme from tumblr), but AO3 and tumblr don’t let you change the font.

Stan goes out of his way to avoid using Ford and Fiddlefords given names- but this isn’t because he doesn’t know what they are. In the few times he has used their names, it was a sign that he was being sincere.

If you want to wonder whether or not Fiddleford likes Stan back, consider the fact that he could have walked away at any point, and either washed his hands of the whole thing, or just outright reported Stanford to the authorities. 

Bill is more like Discord from MLP - he’s just chaotic, often to the detriment of others, but he isn’t outright malicious (anymore), and he’s too busy SIMPING to cause any real harm. Basically, Bill is Fords patron for studying weirdness - he helps Ford in his research, but the cost that Ford pays is that Bill is able to possess him when he sleeps, and has unlimited access to his brain.

If Ford knew Rick Sanchez, why didn’t Rick see how similar Stan looked and put 2-and-2 together? Easy; Rick didn’t give a single shit about Ford, so he never committed his face or name to memory. Ford himself only remembered Rick because Rick was such a massive, egotistical asshole. If anything, Rick would think Ford is the lesser version of Stan.

Chapter 10 was the first concrete proof that the Stan we’ve been following likely is Stanley Pines and not some similar conman named Stan Malone. The last time Ford saw Stan would have either been when they were teens, so other than Stans commercials for his failed products there’s no way Ford would know what an adult Stan would even look like, and he’d have to use himself as a reference.

Stan has given some insight on his Thalassophobia (fear of the ocean / large bodies of water). In Chapter 10, he told Ford a number of things he escaped, including the trunk of a sinking car, and cement shoes. Cement shoes are either when you tie someone to a cinder block and throw them into a body of water, or when you literally incase their feet in cement, wait for it to dry, and then toss them into a body of water, so they’ll drown. Presumably, these are still things that would have happened to him even if he didn't lose his memories, so why would it give him a fear of the ocean now? Stan Pines in the OG still had a lot of positive memories associated with the ocean - he grew up on the coast, and had a lot of his hopes and dreams tied to the ocean. But without his childhood memories, he has no positive associations with it, only memories of times he almost drowned. 

Ford himself is not a touchy guy. The reason he hugs Stan even though it isn’t reciprocated is because from his perspective, this is his twin brother who is in pain and has been suffering all by himself for a long time. And Stan - at least how Ford remembers him - had a very touch-based love language. Fords doing it because he thinks it’d comfort him.

Stan seems pretty calm and chill for someone who’s been kidnapped by a ‘stranger’. This isn’t because he’s an overall chill guy because of amnesia, no he’s super pissed and the second he knows he’s free he will let them know that with his words, and incredible violence. He’s remaining calm because he’s been imprisoned and kidnapped enough times to know that pitching a fit or lashing out at his captors won’t do him any favours.

Fiddleford is still married to Emma-May and they do have Tate. But it's one of those lavender marriages (they're both gay and mutually bearding each other)

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I love Fire Emblem so much. I have so many memories connected to it.

This series has been with me my entire life, from my parents playing Path of Radiance while my mom was expecting, to sitting on her lap as an actual infant while my dad played the sequel, to sitting in the couch next to my dad while he played Awakening when I was so young I don't even remember it now. Then to a few years later, in elementary school, now old enough for me to remember now, watching my dad play Fates, truly falling in love with the series.

I think about man who drove me to school every day letting me download FEH on his phone, back in simpler times when the scariest thing you could face in Arena was a Hector. I think about the time that man's daughter was there in the back seat as well, and I excitedly showed her all of my favorite characters.

I remember the joy of finally being allowed to play a real FE game myself in middle school, and playing all the 3DS games on my dad's console within the span of a month. I remember becoming old enough to join the actual fandom, and making friendships I still have today.

I think about borrowing my sister's Switch to play Three Houses for the first time in eighth grade. That game being there for me through COVID, as I transitioned to high school. I think about the person I met in the hallway that year, who complimented me on my (very shitty and embarrassing) Blue Lions mask, and noticing their FEH orb earrings, therefore marking my first IRL friend who was into FE. I think about my sophomore year, when Engage came out, desperately trying to convince the cool upperclassman I had a kind-of-crush on to try it out too. I think about my off and on relationship to the series throughout high school, always in proximity to it but not always fully in the fandom, as other interests caught my eye. I think about returning to it this year and rediscovering all of that joy and love I have for the series.

Fire Emblem has been a part of my life for all 18 years. I consider it as much a constant as I consider my family. I'm about to graduate, and you bet your ass I'll decorate my cap with some kind of FE theme. I just have so much love for these games. Come what may, it will always be my favorite series. I don't think I'll ever stop loving it.

.

[serickswrites]

first- lovelovelove your writing!!!!

no pressure request: a classic team whump betrayal BUT the traitor is team leader!!! (like maybe they work for an organization or something but the leader of this particular team has been secretly working for the enemy)

maybe there’s even another member of the team that’s also working with the enemy (whether they know about each other or not i don’t know, but either way could probably work well)

anyway i was just scrolling ur betrayal tag and you write it so well so i decided to suggest a version i enjoy,, no pressure of course!!! love ur work, keep it up:))

Hello, friend! I can absolutely write this for you (I love this idea!) This is a series with 6 parts including this one. It will be published under 'Twist'

Warnings: captivity, restraints, betrayal

"UNHAND ME! LET ME GO!" Smallest Teammate screeched as they were dragged along the corridor. The absolute worst had happened: they had been captured by their enemies and brought to the enemy lair. They knew it had to be the mole. It had to be the mole. There was no other way for them to be caught.

They had to stay strong. They had to keep their wits about them. And most of all, they had to protect the rest of the team, including Team Leader, no matter the cost. The mission, the purpose of their organization, could not fail. They would give everything up so that it did not fail.

Smallest Teammate's captors handled them roughly, twisting their arms behind their back hard. One captor held Smallest Teammate's cuffed wrists in a bruising grip. "We'll be letting you go, just as soon as you're ready to start talking."

"I won't tell you anything! ANYTHING!" Smallest Teammate shouted as they shoved back against their captors.

"Then you can sit in here and think with your comrade. Perhaps it'll be nice to see there are worse things that can happen to you."

Smallest Teammate's mouth went dry as they were shoved into a cell and saw the familiar hunched over form of Team Leader. Team Leader's wrists were cuffed tightly behind their back, arms twisted painfully. They lay very still in the center of the cell. No. No. "They got you, too?" Smallest Teammate said as they scurried over to Team Leader.

Team Leader rolled onto their side and stared at Smallest Teammate, their bruised face pinched with pain. "Been here.....few days I think. Did they bring in anyone with you?"

Smallest Teammate shook their head. "No. No, I'm alone."

"Thank God for that. Well, not that you were captured. I mean that's terrible, I--"

Smallest Teammate nodded. "I know what you mean Team Leader. It's better just one than the entire team. I don't think they know where Teammate One and Teammate Three live. And Teammate Two is out," Smallest Teammate looked at the door pointedly before scooting closer to Team Leader, "doing some recon as Organization Leader ordered."

Team Leader looked relieved. "That's good about Teammate One and Three. I don't even know where they live."

"Oh, they live two apartment buildings over from me. So not far." Smallest Teammate's brow furrowed. "Hopefully they are more vigilant than I am."

"What recon mission did Organization Leader send Teammate Two on? So much has happened while I've been here. And Teammate Four, where are they?"

"Teammate Four's probably at the coffee shop on Main Street. They have a crush on the barista there." Smallest Teammate took a breath. "Organization Leader reckons they have a way to break into Oppositional Organization's base." They looked around. "Well, I guess that's where we are."

"How would they break in? Think that means they can rescue us without even knowing we are here?"

Smallest Teammate smiled. "Yep, they're definitely going to be able to save us. And as for how they can break in," Smallest Teammate dropped their voice low, "rumor has it that this place imports a lot of product and their receiving team isn't very thorough in their checks. Teammate Two is observing their shipment patterns to come up with a plan of attack."

Team Leader smirked. "Thank you, Smallest Teammate. That's all I needed. All we needed."

Smallest Teammate froze. "What do you--"

Team Leader popped the cuffs off their wrists. "You gave me everything I need to round up the rest of the team and take care of all of you once and for all."

"NO! It can't be. You....You....I trusted you!"

Team Leader chuckled. "I'm the perfect plant. I've been working against Organization for years from within. And now my life's work will be complete. Really, I should be thanking you more, Smallest Teammate."

Team Leader practically skipped out of the cell. They could hear Smallest Teammate's screams from far down the corridor. But it all didn't matter. They had won. They had beaten Organization. And now they just had to round up the rest of the team and then they could stand victorious at long last.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@acer-whumpstuff @organizedchaos03

[kirkwallguy]

i rly think DA's companions peaked with rivalries lol, like that can create such interesting dynamics, when rivaled these people are still following hawke and you can still romance them, Interesting!! THat's cool! why are they doing that, staying with someone who's disagreed with them the whole time or done things they find objectionable - you get different dialogue in cutscenes too, they react to how you treat them (thinking with Merrill you can just chose to not give her the thing to fix the eluvian and you get a different scene after the quest) You can be mean, you can support them or not and they respond to that, it feels like your choices are affecting the characters around you. (diff game but alistair confronts you about Isolde and if you killed her, the kid, or got help, i'd have loved more of that!! more characters going "hey this was fucked up of you, why???" or "I'm glad you handled this" and then you can talk about it more, the companions having Thoughts on your good or bad behavior and actions and voicing it!) also I think not being able to just chat with the companions was a silly choice, especially with the fact that rook can be a crow or shadow dragon etc, wdym we cant just talk about that with the gang??? ask for their thoughts on it all and they ask for rooks, rook could voice support or question what the group is and what they're doing (kinda like with Wynne and mage warden, you can talk about the circles and voice your dislike or support for them), rook could ask for more information and if they know they could share, or they won't if rook isn't a part of that group and it's all meant to be secret or something - and maybe if you ask again when they have high approval they'll tell you anyway cause they trust you, more opportunities for lore and worldbuilding as well as exploring the characters a little more??

idk im :/ rambling lol, i just really enjoyed how much you could say and do in other games, dav feels limited? And like nothing was perfect in the other games but I feel like there were so many more opportunities to learn about everything and the characters felt so much more involved? I do love that the companions talk to each other at the lighthouse like thats great we get to see those dynamics more outside of party banter!

i LOVE the rivalry dynamic and it really helps with each playthrough feeling unique, a hawke who is besties with merril is so different emotionally to a hawke who rivals merril, and it feels like there's a near-endless number of combos? also being able to push back on companions is something people have been complaining about a LOT in dai and dav, being able to spend the entire game disagreeing with a character and still see their entire story (WITH extra dialogue and sometimes entirely different cutscenes to acknowledge the fact that you don't have a good relationship?) it solves such a fundamental problem with relationships in rpgs and i don't get why it isn't more frequently used lol

and yeah i can understand if they wanted to save money not doing chats in the lighthouse (tbh. the inquisition skyhold dialogue options were just annoying and useless to me especially when you had to exhaust them to trigger certain quests), but it just feels like it creates a distance between you and the companions when they can all have conversations with each other at the lighthouse but you can't speak to them? it just feels like such an important feature for the genre and the only other game in the series that doesn't have it is the one that was made in like a year