#and its as natural as being alive. turns out both things exist in me and idk how to do anything with them

[steampoweredskeleton]

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[paddockletters]

we always come back to each other | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader summary: you thought you’d moved on, but when fate brings you and Charles back together during a race weekend, old feelings resurface. Can you break the cycle, or are some things too broken to fix? author's note as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

The paddock was alive with its usual buzz—mechanics, journalists, fans, and the unmistakable scent of burning rubber in the air. As I walked through it, I couldn’t help but feel out of place. This used to be so familiar, second nature. Now, it felt foreign, like I was walking through a chapter of my life I wasn’t sure belonged to me anymore.

I hadn’t planned on coming back here. The breakup with Charles had been clean in some ways, at least on the surface. We had gone our separate ways, focused on our own lives, as if we hadn’t been each other's world for so long. But Monaco was a small city, and the world of Formula 1 even smaller.

I was here for work. That’s what I told myself. A quick interview with one of the drivers, a feature piece on the lifestyle surrounding the sport. I didn’t have to bump into him. I didn’t have to see him. At least, that’s what I kept repeating in my head.

But it felt inevitable.

The first memory hit me hard as I passed Ferrari’s garage. It was impossible to avoid. I could still remember the late nights standing beside him, just watching him talk to the team, his confidence radiating even after a hard race. The garage was always his sanctuary, but for a while, it had been mine too—until I realized there was no room for both of us.

“Y/N, hey!” A voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see Carmen, George’s girlfriend, waving at me with a smile. She jogged over, her familiar energy cutting through the heavy emotions clouding my mind.

“Carmen,” I said, forcing a smile. We had bonded back when we were both still relatively new to the F1 scene, both trying to find our place in this chaotic world.

“It’s been ages,” she said, hugging me tightly. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d be back after, you know…”

I winced. The breakup with Charles had been quiet, no major headlines, but the people in this circle knew. They always knew.

“I’m just here for work,” I replied, hoping she wouldn’t push further.

But Carmen had always been perceptive. She glanced over my shoulder, and I followed her gaze—straight to Charles, standing with his back to us, talking to Carlos Sainz and a few team members. My heart lurched in my chest. He looked so… unchanged. Like he had stepped straight out of my memories.

“You going to talk to him?” Carmen asked softly.

I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s… we’re not...”

Carmen gave me a knowing look, her lips curving into a sad smile. “I get it. But you know, we always find our way back to the people who matter, even if it’s painful.”

The flashbacks started coming harder as the day went on. Each familiar sight—a car being wheeled into the garage, a reporter setting up for an interview, the roar of engines—triggered memories I had tried so hard to bury.

One particular memory hit me like a punch in the gut.

We were in Charles’ apartment, lying in bed after a rare weekend off. The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. I remember tracing the outline of his jaw, feeling the soft stubble beneath my fingers.

"Do you think we'll always come back to each other?" I had asked him, my voice barely a whisper.

Charles had smiled, pulling me closer. "Always."

I had believed him. I believed that no matter what, we would always find a way back to each other, that nothing could break us apart.

But racing had. Racing had broken us apart piece by piece, and neither of us had known how to stop it.

Later that evening, after most of the media duties were done, I found myself lingering near the hospitality area. Carmen had long since left to find George, and I had promised myself I’d leave too. But instead, I sat down at a table with a glass of water, my mind still racing.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice cut through the noise.

The voice, soft yet achingly familiar. It was Charles, standing there with a hesitant look on his face. He seemed just as conflicted as I felt. His Ferrari gear clung to him, the red still as vibrant as I remembered, though the warmth in his eyes seemed a little dimmer.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. A wave of memories rushed through me—late nights in his Monaco apartment, his laughter echoing in my ear, the way he used to pull me close after a bad race. But those good memories were always followed by the bad. The fights, the cold silences, the feeling of being left behind while he sped off to the next track, the next race.

I didn’t know if I wanted to hug him or walk away. Instead, I forced a smile.

"Hey," I managed to say, my voice barely audible over the noise around us.

“Can I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty chair across from me.

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. This was the moment I had been dreading, but also the one I couldn’t seem to avoid.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. It was strange, sitting there together after so much time apart. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many questions I wanted to ask, but the words felt stuck in my throat.

His name felt strange on my lips, like I had forgotten how to say it. But it didn’t stop the memories from crashing in. All the times I had called his name—after his wins, his losses, his moments of doubt. But now, it was like we were strangers.

"You look... good," Charles finally said, breaking the silence.

I forced a small smile. "So do you."

He chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

“How… how have you been?” he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The confident driver the world saw wasn’t sitting here right now. This was just Charles, the man I had loved, who had broken my heart without even realizing it.

“I’ve been good,” I lied. I couldn’t bring myself to admit how lost I had been without him, how empty my life felt after we ended things. “Busy, you know. Work.”

“Yeah, same,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you.”

I nodded, even though it hurt. Seeing him wasn’t good. It wasn’t easy. It was like reopening a wound that had barely begun to heal.

“I heard you’ve been doing some great things,” he added, his voice low. “I always knew you would.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. “Thanks.”

The tension between us was thick, almost suffocating.

“I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a wave of emotions crash over me. “Then why did you let it happen?”

He looked down at his hands, the silence stretching between us. “I don’t know. I thought I could balance everything—racing, us. But I guess I couldn’t. And by the time I realized it, it was too late.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Yeah, it was.”

Charles’ eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw the Charles I had fallen in love with—the one who had made me believe we could survive anything. But that Charles had been lost to the world of F1 long ago.

“We always come back to each other,” he said softly, repeating the words we had once whispered in the dark.

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “Maybe we do, but it doesn’t mean we should.”

Charles looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there, staring at me like he was trying to memorize my face all over again.

“I don’t think I can keep coming back,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

Flashbacks of happier times haunted me as I walked away from him. The late nights spent watching movies in his apartment, the way he would wrap his arms around me after a tough race, whispering promises of forever. But those moments felt distant now, like memories from another life.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and awkward. But before I could come up with an excuse to leave, I heard another voice.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

I turned to see Pascale, Charles’ mother, approaching us with a smile. My heart twisted painfully at the sight of her. I hadn’t just lost Charles when we broke up; I’d lost his whole family. Pascale had always treated me like a daughter, inviting me to Sunday dinners and family events. Seeing her now reminded me of what I’d walked away from.

“Hi, Pascale,” I said, forcing another smile.

“It’s been so long,” she said, pulling me into a hug before I had a chance to protest. “How have you been?”

I caught Charles’ gaze over her shoulder and felt my throat tighten. “I’ve been okay. Just, you know, work keeps me busy.”

Pascale smiled warmly, but her eyes flicked between me and Charles, clearly picking up on the tension. “Well, it’s lovely to see you both. I always thought you made such a wonderful team.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Once upon a time, we had been a team. But that was a lifetime ago.

“I should get going,” I said quickly, stepping back from her. “Lots of interviews to do.”

Charles’ face fell slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Pascale gave me a sympathetic smile, squeezing my hand. “It was so nice to see you, ma chérie.”

As I walked away, I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t turn back. I didn’t trust myself to. I needed to get out of there, to breathe.

I found myself sitting at dinner with some of the other drivers and their girlfriends. Carmen sat beside me, giving me a reassuring smile. Pierre and Kika were across the table, laughing together, completely in sync. Even Lando sat with his latest girlfriend, radiating joy.

I felt like an outsider.

Midway through dinner, Kika leaned over, her eyes full of sympathy. “You know, Y/N, Charles is still in love with you.”

I blinked, startled by her sudden comment. “I don’t think that’s enough anymore.”

She smiled sadly, nodding in understanding. “Maybe. But sometimes love doesn’t fix what’s already broken.”

Her words lingered in the back of my mind for the rest of the evening.

Later, at my hotel room I scrolled through my messages, landing on one from my best friend, Lisa. She had been there for me through every step of my break-up with Charles, listening to my late-night rants, offering advice I never took.

Me: I saw him.

It took her less than a minute to reply.

Lisa: Oh my God. How was it??

Me: Awkward. His mom was there too.

Lisa: Ouch. Did you talk to him?

Me: Yeah, but it was weird. I don’t know why it still hurts this much.

Lisa: Because you still love him.

I stared at her words, my heart sinking. Did I still love him? Part of me wanted to deny it, to say I had moved on. But the truth was, I hadn’t. I never really had.

Me: He hasn’t changed, has he?

Lisa: Not unless he learned how to balance his life with racing. You know that was always the problem.

I sighed, leaning back against the pillows. Charles had never learned how to make room for me in his world. I had always been second place to racing, and it had worn me down until there was nothing left.

Lisa: What are you going to do?

I stared at my phone, feeling the weight of the decision hanging over me. I knew I had to make a choice, one that would finally let me move on.

The next day, I walked through the paddock again, my mind swirling with everything Lisa had said. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face Charles again, but I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever.

As I passed by the Ferrari garage, I saw him standing there, talking to his team. He looked so at ease in his element, so confident. I remembered all the times I had watched him race, my heart in my throat as I prayed for him to cross the finish line safely.

But now, watching him from a distance, I realized something. Charles had always been a part of me, but I could no longer let him be all of me. I had spent so long loving him, waiting for him, that I had lost sight of who I was outside of our relationship.

I turned away, walking toward the exit. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was making the right choice.

Weeks later, I sat on my balcony, staring out at the sea. Life had moved on, as it always did, but there was still a part of me that clung to the past. I hadn’t spoken to Charles since that night. I hadn’t wanted to. We were always drawn back to each other, but this time, I needed to break the cycle.

Sitting there, watching the sunset, I realized something.

We had always come back to each other because we didn’t know how to let go. We had clung to the idea of what we could be, ignoring the reality of what we were. But now, I knew I had to let him go—for good.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through old photos of us. There were so many happy memories, so many moments that had made me believe we could make it work. But as I looked at them now, I realized that love alone wasn’t enough. We had loved each other fiercely, but we hadn’t known how to hold onto it.

With a deep breath, I deleted the photos. This time, I wasn’t coming back.

That’s how it ends—with me finally realizing that love wasn’t enough to save us. And as I sat there, the sea breeze tugging at my hair, I knew it was time to move forward. To find a new path, one that didn’t lead back to Charles.

Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is walk away.

[internetskiff]

I've sometimes seen this sentiment, especially among reviewers, that SOMA's WAU ""monster plot"" contributes nothing to the main game's story, and that the storyline would infact benefit from the WAU's removal. If you ask me, that couldn't be further from the truth. The WAU is at the root of everything. Frankly, it's the main reason the game's moral dilemmas are.. well, dilemmas at all. If the WAU wasn't making monsters, wasn't there to warp the life around Pathos-II as it saw fit, the game wouldn't have even started. Pathos-II would've just remained dormant forever. Simon wouldn't be there, and neither would any of the obstacles he faces on his journey to preserve humanity. The main reason the WAU isn't directly beneficial to Earth is exactly because its understanding of "life" is so skewed. Its not just bringing things back - its bringing them back incorrectly. Every single "monster" we meet builds a case both against and for the WAU's continued existence.

The Construct shows the WAU's failure to understand humanity in the physical sense, shoving a Human brain scan into a misshapen robot body and calling it a day, leaving it to babble to itself as it aimlessly wanders the halls of Upsilon.

The same could be said for Carl Semken and the other Mockingbirds, though to a lesser degree - though capable of speech, they're still very delusional and oftentimes end up going insane. Still, in some ways you see the WAU's understanding of human psychology progress with each new mockingbird - they become increasingly coherent and increasingly sane, Catherine and Robin Bass being great examples. While the Construct has lost so much of itself you can no longer tell who it used to be, the other Mockingbirds have their sense of self intact. With the WAU's unreliable nature cemented, we move on to its attempts at preserving humans physically, with Amy Azarro being the first proper example Simon gets to witness.

She's kept alive in what seems to be a perpetual state of discomfort, and judging by the structure gel slowly overtaking her I believe the WAU may be slowly converting her into one of the Fleshers. Its keeping her alive, yes, but its doing so at any cost necessary - it doesn't matter if she's in constant pain as long as she doesn't flatline. Its treatment of actual organisms is practically an inversion of its treatment of the Mockingbirds - instead of prioritizing the mental wellbeing of the subject, the WAU prioritizes their physical wellbeing with little to no care for the mental state its "patient" is in the entire time.

Fleshers live and breathe, but they seemingly aren't "all there" at all. The lights are on, but no one's home anymore. All they do is wander the ruins of the CURIE and lash out at anyone who enters their territory - the WAU has basically reduced them to animals.

Terry's been driven insane from all the structure gel infesting his insides, and though his goal was "technically" benevolent (putting everyone into a permanent dream state where the WAU could make them live the best possible versions of their lives), he achieved it through incredibly violent means, conducting what was basically an attack on Theta and causing its downfall. So far, its attempts at preserving humans physically have simply resulted in increasingly grotesque and violent monstrosities - but I would argue you see that begin to change when Simon reaches Omicron.

When you reach it, you see the aftermath of a particularly gruesome procedure WAU had carried out - everyone's blackboxes have exploded, turning their heads to mush. We find out that one of the employees, with the help of someone particularly close to the WAU, had figured out how to poison it. They have been receiving "visions" and "messages" from a comatose Johan Ross - the WAU's "AI psychologist", someone it desperately tried to restore from a comatose state by manipulating structure gel with electromagnetic fields. Either the WAU deliberately retaliated when it figured out the poisoning plot, or it had simply overdone it when restoring Johan Ross - sacrificing an entire station's worth of lives to bring someone back. Either way this shows a tremendous amount of intelligence on the WAU's part - and also paints it as either exceptionally cruel or exceptionally empathetic depending on the perspective you view it from. Either it considered Johan so important to it that it was willing to sacrifice most Omicron staff, or it was willing to violently retaliate in order to preserve itself. Either way, Omicron houses what I believe to be a sign of the WAU's steadily improving understanding of humanity - Dr. Johan Ross.

He has been restored with both his physical health and mental faculties (relatively) intact. He isn't violent, and he perfectly understands what condition he is currently in - but despite that he doesn't seem to be physically suffering. He is still driven to eliminate the WAU, but it seems to be less out of personal suffering and more out of fear in regards to the suffering its other creations may go through. I believe he's an example of a semi-perfectly restored human - both him and Simon himself. They're both cases of, as Catherine puts it, "a sound mind in a sound body". But although the signs are there, there is no outright definitive proof that the WAU's creations will only continue to get better.

And that's what makes the game's final moral dilemma so compelling to me. The whole game has been providing us with both evidence and counterevidence towards the WAU's idea of restoring humanity. Now, it's up to you to act as its jury and executioner. By killing it you either stop it from torturing the memory of humanity, or you doom humanity to extinction in all senses of the word. By keeping it alive, you either doom the remnants of humanity to an eternal torturous existence, or you give the WAU a chance at creating something new. There is no way of knowing what choice is correct - because you don't know what the WAU is thinking. You never get to. You don't know its plans, you don't know if it even has the capacity to actually learn from its mistakes, hell, you don't even know if its capable of thought - but here it is. Making things. Terrible things, but there's a chance that it'll only get better with time. Simon himself is evidence of that chance. It has already managed to make what could be classified as a "complete" person. And if you kill it, Simon's going to be the last "complete" person it managed to bring back.

[storiesoflilies]

Of Angels and Curses

Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.

Pairings - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.

Warnings - Descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut. Cannibalism(?) (idk it’s Curses eating each other), violence of war. Toji being a lil spicy ;)

A/N - Apologies for the delays with this one! The edits for Chapter 6 and 7 really took it out of me (if you haven’t re-read them yet, then I highly recommend you do!) Anyways, enjoy this chapter! Ko-Fi.

-•-

Chapter 8

It was frightening how easily Y/N slipped back into the dance of war.

But then again, it was second nature to her; a tune to a song that had been sung for a thousand years. It was etched into her very being, she’d heard the words sung from inside her mother’s womb, felt its resonance the moment she was born, and sung it herself when she descended to Earth from Heaven. No Angel, from the dawn of time, had ever escaped the call of this haunting song.

However, the song had a far different tune in Hell than it did anywhere else.

Battles won on Earth had been marvelous victories, where just a bit more sin had been cleansed from the world. But here in Hell, sin multiplied tenfold, especially after a battle was won. Y/N didn’t know why every victory she won felt like a loss. Perhaps it was the sight of her own soldiers feasting on the corpses of the dead, both enemies and comrades, their greed knowing no bounds as black blood gushed forth to make the ground muddy. Perhaps it was the fact she took no prisoners of war, leaving none alive because the severity of torture they would face would be a waste of her soldiers time. Or perhaps it was the persistent feeling that, despite every victory, the end was nowhere near in sight.

Naoya and Jogo’s soldiers proved relentless, pounding against Geto’s borders without pause.

Again.

And again.

And again…

Y/N hadn’t slept in seven days, and how could she? There was no time, and it was far too dangerous to sleep. She hadn’t seen Geto for nearly a month; any and all correspondence was done via Suda, who never rested either as she relayed messages between all Geto’s different battalions throughout Hell. While her brother fought more offensively, assembling his most savage and strongest Curses to directly attack Jogo and Naoya within their own borders, Y/N was charged with defending their own lands. Their enemies could instantaneously appear in the hundreds – if not, tens of hundreds – across various locations.

For this reason, Sukuna’s ring of teleportation had been particularly invaluable for her defense.

It was eerie, almost as if the King of Hell had somehow predicted the war and their strategies. Y/N had been reluctant to even put the ring on, but as soon as she did, sliding it on the exact same finger as Toji wore his, it had shrunk and hugged to the exact size of her finger. She told herself it was a necessity, as there was no way she would have worn it otherwise. Y/N often wondered what Sukuna thought of all this, if he even cared that his Curses were busy slaughtering each other instead of the seraphim. But this wasn’t the first war of Hell, and she guessed that if he hadn’t intervened previously, then it was unlikely he would care now.

Despite when Geto had claimed, even challenged, that this would be the most bloody and violent war that Hell had ever seen.

Y/N often found herself lost in thoughts of what might have been. Amidst the seemingly endless time loop of a fight, her body moved with pure instinct in the dance of death. She didn’t need to use her mind to fight, and so it often wandered to a future that didn’t exist – one where she had become Gojo’s wife, fighting alongside him against the Curses she now fought beside. That would have been a holy and noble war, enacting God’s justice against those that turned against his light. Sometimes, Y/N glanced at her fellow soldiers, and wondered if she would have been forced to kill them in a world where she remained an Angel. A world where Satoru loved her, and she returned it equally. So strong was her daydream that her old soul almost took over, and time seemed to slow as her blade hovered dangerously close to her own soldier’s neck.

Until its maw opened unnaturally wide, and its razor-sharp teeth buried into an enemy Curse’s head. Y/N pulled back sharply, her mind and soul snapping back place as her body recoiled.

How had she not noticed her foe approach her? She would have been deep within its clutches if not for her fellow Curse, whom she had almost contemplated killing.

She cracked her neck with an audible pop and rotated her wrists, feeling the tension release with each twist, and nodded at the Curse who had saved her. It stared at her expectantly like a lost child, haunting vulnerability in its eyes, pink flesh dangling in shredded ribbons between its stained fangs. In one swift motion, Y/N swung her katanas in her hands, and her companion startled out of their momentary trance, returning to the savage dance of the battle around them.

There was something so beautiful about that moment, but Y/N couldn’t place her finger on it.

She wanted to chase that feeling.

If this war was to be so vicious, then Y/N embrace it all and return it tenfold. She readied her body to dance as her soldiers rallied around, completely surrounding her. The notion might have once frightened her, but not anymore. There was nothing to fear, only death and the beautiful song of war.

And then, hellfire started to rain from the sky.

Jogo…

Now this, is what the end is supposed to look like.

“Y/N!”

Miguel’s familiar voice shouted from a distance, causing Y/N to swiftly turn in its direction. In an instant, he was next to her. “Y/N! Suda has just informed me; Geto has begun the siege on the Zenins!”

Her eyes narrowed. “So Jogo sends his soldiers here. He thinks we cannot fend him off with only half an army.”

She surveyed her own force, rapidly formulating strategies in her mind. It was unclear how many Jogo had sent to the border, but one of the Curses was definitely one of his higher-ups, judging by the hellfire. Y/N doubted Jogo himself had come, not yet anyways. Suddenly, a blast of fire erupted outside her circle as a droplet landed beside them, and a Curse screeched in agony.

“Find Curses to form a barrier above us,” Y/N said urgently, shielding her head as another bout of fire erupted near her. “We cannot defend ourselves with this.”

Miguel nodded, sweat beading on his forehead. “And you? Do you need more soldiers?”

She looked at the Curses surrounding her, their gnashing teeth and pounding legs thumping the ground, as if they were her hellhounds eager to be off their leash. Y/N shook her head. “No, these are all I need. Send more to protect the supply outposts. We cannot afford to lose another.”

Miguel nodded and disappeared, leaving Y/N to take charge. She roughly dragged a Curse from the circle closer to her, then placed a hand gently on its head, as if seeking to make amends. She whispered softly, her voice like a soothing prayer that she found Curses responded well to. "Go and find me the one responsible for the hellfire.”

The Curse blabbered nonsense, its cloven feet stomping into the dirt, before speeding off into the fray, barreling into enemies and swinging them into the air with reckless abandon. Y/N raised her katanas over her head and launched herself against their foes. Her soldiers followed closely behind, swept up in the fervor of her charge. Y/N was the relentless tide crashing against the shoreline, the herald of a catastrophic tsunami that would engulf them all.

It was some time before her hoofed Curse returned, it’s battered and bloodied form charging towards her. With a powerful thrust, it impaled into an enemy Curse that Y/N had suspended high into the air with her katanas. The Curse snarled and spat, but she knew to follow its lead. And through the maze of death and corpses it led her, a twisted beacon amidst the darkness and chaos.

Straight towards Jogo’s second in command.

Hanami.

For a split second, Y/N was gripped by sadness. Why had fate forced them to cross paths? Yet, it seemed inevitable; the two generals of the Kings must be the destined to confront each other. Why did God make such things come to pass? Hanami was innocent, a Curse born from the fear of Gods own nature that he himself had created. What was there truly to fear? Hanami embodied nature’s beauty as much as much as its cruelty. Thorns and vines coiled around Y/N’s soldiers, ruthlessly tearing them apart, but she couldn’t shake the memory of her fever dream. The voice that had condemned her to be scratched into pieces. Was it actually a vision from this very moment? Was Hanami to be the orchestrator of her demise, strumming the strings of her death like a harp?

Y/N thought it was what she deserved, to be killed by God’s nature from which she had turned her back.

Hanami seemed to finally notice her, releasing the soldiers entangled within her thorns and spreading out her arms as if welcoming Y/N home. She wanted to cry; both with homesickness and with the sickly sin she was about to commit. For she had no intention of dying, even if it was what she deserved. Yet, tears slipped from her eyes regardless.

“Why do you cry?”

It was Hanami’s voice in Y/N’s head, and it startled her. All the Curses around them had turned to fight each other, paving a makeshift pathway directly between the two of them.

“Do you cry for yourself? For your mate who shall surely grieve you?”

“No, I cry for you.”

“For me? You don’t know me.”

“And I never will, but I would have liked to.”

“I have been charged with your death, and I will not fail as Mahito did. If you must know me, then know this. I do not hate you, I only seek a world where my nature can thrive. You and your brother stand in the way of that.”

How cruel, God why must you do this to me – to her? She would have been a wonderful Angel.

“We should have been on the same side then, because I don’t hate you either.”

With that, they launched themselves at each other through the garden of thorns and ruby roses. Each step brought forth a flurry of petals, swirling around them like a tempest. Y/N's blades sliced through the flowers and roots, yet Hanami countered her with a strength and speed that seemed to match the blooming growth around them.

They collided in a chaotic tangle of petals and gleaming metal, the air thick with the sickening scent of blood and blossoms. The behemoth Curse’s vines and thorns twisted and writhed, entangling Y/N in a deadly embrace, and the ground beneath them trembled with the force of her strikes against the roots. The air crackled with raw energy, as victory remained shrouded in a misty cloud. Through their bond, Y/N felt Toji’s essence urging her on desperately, and she clenched her jaw in determination.

This would end, one way or the other.

-•-

She trudged through from the portal with a slight limp, dragging the full weight of Hanami’s body behind her.

Y/N hated how this was so undignified for Hanami. She deserved a proper burial, or at least a smiting, but Y/N had no more divine energy to spare for that, and Curses would never bury their enemies. This was the way it had to be done, what was expected of her. The village she had teleported to was one of the largest at the border, serving as Y/N’s base to travel between. As the Curses around her stared, taking in the lifeless body of Jogo’s general, they erupted into frantic joy. Y/N was too tired for it, too saddened by what she had done, to find any enjoyment in hearing chants and cheers of her name in reverence.

Her bones ached, and her eyes felt as dry as sand. Y/N knew she needed to sleep, but she could hardly bring herself to do it. Every time she closed her eyes, she was haunted by that nightmarish red color, and a phantom pain bloomed over her face where Mahito had touched her. To sleep felt like a death sentence now, and it was beyond infuriating that their enemies had stolen her very basic right to rest and sleep.

On top of that, Y/N missed Toji fiercely.

The exhausted part of Y/N wished she had taken him up on his offer, because then she would have been at peace and safe. But the rational part of her would never allow it, standing firmly in her resolve not to run away from this war. But still, Y/N felt as if their bond had shifted to something more… intense. It was as crippling as it was exhilarating.

Suda and Miguel were waiting for her outside an old stone house that once belonged to a local villager, but now served as her own personal quarters. Miguel looked exhausted, but still kept up his cool demeanor in front of Suda, whose eyes widened into saucers as she took in Hanami’s body.

Y/N finally stopped dragging the body and let go, and it thumped loudly as it hit the ground. “Bring her head to my brother,” she instructed, making it clear that she would not be maiming any corpses herself.

Suda grimaced further, lip curling in disgust. “Anything else?”

“Tell him not to worry about us, and to focus on the siege. Just let us know when he needs supplies so we can send a group to transport it quickly.”

Suda nodded and looked at Miguel for support, who began to drag Hanami away from Y/N. With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the door, stumbling through and hoping nobody saw her. Hanami’s thorns had cut through parts of her armor, creating deep welts that throbbed and bled. One of the vines had gripped Y/N’s ankle so tightly that it was a struggle to walk straight. She knew she needed to sleep; it would help heal her wounds, and probably her ankle. But the sheer amount of obsidian blood covering her body, red rose petals clinging to it like feathers in tar, was a reminder that sleep was out of reach.

Y/N knelt at the edge of the bed, clasping her hands together as her knees scraped harshly against the floor. Prayer kept her from falling asleep, and from staying awake, fearing an assassin lurking in the night. And in some strange way, she felt as if God was still listening, even all the way down in the depths of Hell.

“Dear God in Heaven,

I ask that you deliver me from this darkness.

Help me cleanse this sin, and bring forth light an-”

“What are you doing?”

She’d never sprung into action so fast in her life. Her body acted on pure instinct, all speed and rage as she crashed directly into the bulky form of the stranger in her room. It was unnerving, frightening, that Y/N hadn’t heard anything approaching her, especially after swearing to herself that nothing was going to sneak up on her again. Her attacker grunted in surprise, and they wrestled for just a moment until Y/N registered Toji’s bright green eyes and familiar shaggy black locks. She had him pinned to the floor, her forearm pressing deep into his neck, and her dagger delicately close to his temple. He was breathing hard, nostrils flared in alarm, and tense.

“It’s me,” Toji whispered, with just a hint of panic in his eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N groaned, her head hanging low as her heart pounded, as if it took great effort for the muscle to pump anymore adrenaline through her veins. “I-uh, sorry.”

He tentatively rubbed her arm, the metal still pressing uncomfortably hard into his neck. “S’ok, you want to let go now?”

She awkwardly rushed to get off of him, and extended her hand for Toji to take. He accepted it and pulled himself up, his intense gaze weighing and sizing her up.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked gently, still hesitant, as if she was going to attack him for the slightest thing.

“Tch! It doesn’t matter,” Y/N muttered, moving over to the edge of the bed and sitting in a slump.

“It matters,” Toji started, and she could feel the beginning of a lecture coming on. “When you can’t even hear someone approach you. Why don’t you just sleep?”

“You know why. Just leave it.”

He moved over towards her, sitting beside her, his spread knees touching hers. “You still pray,” he stated, more of an observation than a question.

“Yes,” Y/N replied, the exhaustion creeping back into her voice as the adrenaline left her body. “It helps. It keeps me awake and stops me from thinking.”

“About?”

Flashes of pain.

Burning blood and bones.

Foggy visions of something seen long ago, but never to be remembered.

Y/N cracked her neck suddenly, feeling her bones crunching. “Mahito, I suppose. And Geto fighting so far away.” Toji hummed, and she suddenly felt quite nervous. “You’re not going to… judge me for this, are you?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “For praying?”

“Yes.”

“It’s something you do alone, and if it helps, then why stop? It has nothing to do with me, so I’m not going to judge.”

For some bizarre reason, the anxiety and tension she had been holding in her chest dissipated, and Y/N sniffed as she wiped her nose.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, voice cracking.

Toji looked at her strangely and said in a low rumble. “There’s no need for that. I told you before that I don’t care about Fallen or Angel customs.” He looked away shyly and added, “I just want you to be well.”

She blew out a deep breath and slumped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I will be when this war is over.”

He slowly joined her, their shoulders and knees touching. “And how’s it going? I heard Geto has started a siege on my old home.”

“Oh, yes he has. Mei-Mei?”

“Her crows are everywhere.”

“Even here?”

“Especially here.”

“If you want to see me, then you should just do that. No need to spy, Toji.”

“I’m not spying, just… keeping an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Toji looked over and gave her a pointed look. “Of course I do.” He looked back at the ceiling and huffed quietly. “Stupid thing to say.”

Y/N snorted, perhaps due to her exhaustion, but also partly due to a giddy nervous part of her soul that came out when Toji was around. She couldn’t help herself, and erupted into a fit of giggles. He looked over at her in amusement, and chuckled lowly along with her. They eventually settled into a comfortable silence, with her head slightly tilted towards Toji’s. Suddenly, he took her hand in his, observing her bloodstained nails and thorn cuts.

Displeasure…

“I killed Hanami,” Y/N confessed, as if bursting forth a deep secret she couldn’t withhold anymore.

Toji nodded, his fingers tracing the lines of her hands. “Good. It will take Jogo some time to re-organize his forces.”

She hummed, quiet tears spilling from her eyes onto her cheeks. “I suppose so, yes.”

He looked at her with concern deep in his emerald orbs, and gripped her hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just… really didn’t want to kill her.”

“Why’s that?”

Y/N didn’t really know herself, and so it took her some time before she could finally come up with somewhat of an answer. “She was part of nature. It felt like killing an Angel.”

Toji was moving each of her fingers back and forth. “Hanami was no seraph. You should have heard the things she’s done to Angels.”

“I’m sure it’s not much different to what Angels have done to us.”

“Do you not think you could do it, then? If you ascended and came across a seraph.”

No.

Y/N didn’t need to say it aloud; Toji knew her answer from her soul speaking volumes through the bond. They lay together in hushed stillness, interrupted only by Toji curling her fingers into a closed fist. His hand covered hers, offering silent reassurance.

“You need to sleep,” he finally said gently.

“I know, but I can’t.”

“I’ll stay with you, then.”

“Won’t you get tired?”

“Pft! No.”

“Toji, are you sure?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Just sleep, nothin’ll get past me.”

Y/N smiled softly at him, and moved up higher onto the bed, not caring about dirtying the sheets with the stains of battle. Toji stood and pulled over a chair closer to the bed, spreading his legs out and crossing his arms. The flickering candlelight cast a shadow on his chiseled features, adding to his alluring enigma, and she wanted to keep discovering everything about him. His gaze darkened, and she knew that he could sense her desire trickling into the bond like a gentle rain.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Y/N huffed, burying her face into her pillow.

“Like what? I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“What do you want me to do, stare at the ceiling?”

“No…”

Y/N heard the chair scrape even closer to the bed, and she peeked out from the pillow to see Toji resting his upper body on the bed while still remaining seated on the chair. He nestled his head on his crossed arms, alarmingly close to her face, and closed his eyes.

“Better?” he quipped.

“Mhm.”

“Good, now sleep.”

-•-

Toji’s hair was the first thing Y/N saw when she woke.

The top of his head was directly in front of her, black curtains spilling onto the bed. His arm extended out, as reaching out to try and touch her. He seemed like he was asleep, but Y/N knew he probably wasn’t. This was the most peaceful she had ever seen Toji look, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him alluring. She reached over and softly stroked his hair, and Toji groaned softly.

“You slept well,” he grunted, pushing his head closer to her and leaning into her touch.

Y/N hummed, twirling strands of his hair between her fingers. He moved his head, resting his chin on his arms, green eyes trained watching her toy with his hair.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” Toji remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. She smiled widely, humming again, but more shyly. He took her hand that was playing with his hair and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, igniting a wildfire deep within her.

More…

His green eyes blazed with emerald flames, and he pressed featherlight kisses along each of her fingers. Her breath hitched; nothing else in the world felt real anymore, except the sensation of his lips on her skin.

One.

Two.

“Did you dream of anything?” Toji rumbled, rubbing his cheek into Y/N’s fingers.

Three, four…

She shook her head, looking at him with eyes wide and pupils blown. “No, nothing at all.”

Five.

He moved to her other hand, and Y/N wondered just how far she would let him take her.

One, two.

“So, you want me to stay with you every night?”

Three.

“You couldn’t do that.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to.”

Four.

“Of course I do, bu-.”

“Shh! Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Five.

His hands enveloped hers, rubbing them tenderly.

“Toji!”

“What?”

“Toji, you can’t do this every night! And I don’t expect you to either.”

“Y/N, if it means you’re safe and sleeping well, then I’ll do it.”

“But your people need you more than I do.”

“Fucks s-, why won’t you let me help? You won’t stay with me, so why can’t I stay with you?”

Y/N cupped Toji’s face, her thumb stroking his cheek. She craved him; he made her pliable, like clay in a sculptors hands. In that moment, she wanted to give him everything he wanted. There was nobody else more willing to help her pass the time in the night. Who else could say they could fight off her nightmares with his bare hands? Toji was made of smoke and steel, breaking through and sliding between every crack and crevice inside her.

“I want you to, but we can’t indulge this,” she whispered, her tingling lips almost unable to speak. “Not now, not until the war is over.”

Toji groaned with exasperation and fell silent. Y/N could feel him thinking hard, and she indulged in his distraction, exploring his face with the pads of her fingers. She traced his furrowed brows, smoothing them out, moving on to the strong bridge of his nose and his smoky lashes.

“What’s the point of praying?” Toji asked suddenly. “How do you know God even listens?

Y/N’s finger froze, just as she was about to trace the scar on his lip. “It’s just what faith is. There���s something that happens when you pray. You can feel God’s presence watching and listening.”

“So, you can still feel it? Even here?”

“Not anymore, but I think he’s still able to listen. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I like to know how you think. I want to know what you expect from me, because I don’t really understand your… customs.”

Toji stood up, almost reluctantly, and Y/N’s inner voice cried out as he untangled their souls from their intimate moment. “Where are you going?” she whispered, urgency lacing her words.

“I’ll be back here tonight. Wait for me,” he replied, stroking her cheek before disappearing.

Later that night, true to his word, Toji was there waiting for Y/N, but he wasn’t alone. He was with a with a girl, her shaggy cropped hair framing her face, with a thousand and one angry scars crisscrossing every bit of her skin. There was an undeniable connection between her and Toji; their auras mirrored each other, as if they were cut from the same cloth, made of the same blood and flesh.

Y/N hesitated slightly but approached them nonetheless, regaining an air of authority as she walked. Today’s battle had gone awry; Jogo’s soldiers had overwhelmed them completely at a supply outpost. It took both Miguel and Larue to drag her away from the fight, so strong was her desperation to defend their resources. Now, she was left drained and filled with dread, knowing that Geto’s army, as well as her own, had lost even more supplies for their war.

I’m sorry, brother. I will do better.

Concern…

Y/N shook her head at Toji, hoping he understood that now was not the time or place to discuss her feelings. He frowned, seemingly conceding, and introduced the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Maki Zenin.”

She raised an eyebrow at Maki, though not entirely surprised at the revelation of her relation to Toji. “Zenin?”

“Not anymore,” the girl interjected, her tone a touch sour. “Just call me Maki.”

“I see,” Y/N replied flatly, unimpressed with Maki’s tone, and turned her gaze back to Toji. “And why exactly is Maki here?”

“She left the Zenins and joined my court,” Toji answered, looking at Maki with reserved interest. “But I think she would be able to help you win this war.”

“Is that so?” Y/N sized Maki up, assessing her from head to toe. “Why did you leave the Zenins?”

Maki’s demeanor seemed to shatter and harden instantaneously, her voice strained as she muttered through gritted teeth. “They murdered my sister.”

“And you want to join us because you want revenge? This war isn’t your emotional playground.”

“It’s not, no. And I don’t want to join Geto, just you. Fushiguro is the only family I have left, family that I’ve chosen, and you’re his mate. That makes you my family too, and no more of my family is going to be murdered.”

Y/N’s resolve softened, and she glanced at Toji, who regarded Maki with just a slight hint of pride. He turned to her, and said lowly. “She’s not like them. I trust her to fight alongside you and watch over you when I can’t.”

She clicked her tongue in thought and nodded. What was there really to lose? If Toji trusted her, then Y/N would too. “Fine then, Maki. You can join us.”

Relief…

“Maki, give us a moment,” Toji said, and the girl nodded before walking off into the hustle of the barracks.

“You didn’t think I’d let her stay?” Y/N questioned, her gaze following Maki as she was stopped by Larue, who immediately seemed to be trying to provoke her.

He sighed and stood beside her. “I didn’t think you’d let just anybody get that close to you.”

Y/N hummed. “She doesn’t seem like just anyone if you let her stay with you.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, and he muttered. “I know how it feels to be chewed and spat back out by that family.”

Larue poked Maki’s scarred arm, and she swiftly had him pinned to the ground in a headlock. A group of Curses gathered round, egging on the confrontation, their appetite for violence and bloodshed insatiable. This was the brutal hierarchy of their world, where strength was the only clear language understood. Maki could either overcome it, or crumble. Y/N expected her to survive, otherwise Toji’s plan would have failed before it even began.

“She’s fast,” she commented, and Toji nodded.

“Maki’s like me, nearly fights exactly the same. Through her, I may as well be fighting this war with you.” He nudged her gently, his gaze softening. “What happened today?”

Y/N sighed, pinching her nose. “We don’t have the numbers to defend ourselves and our supplies. We’ve lost too many resources already, and Geto needs all the help he can get to wage out the siege.”

She knew that Toji wasn’t going to offer aid. Doing so would risk openly aligning his kingdom with theirs, and subjecting his people to the wrath of two layers. It would plunge nearly all of Hell into chaos, and subject his people to the same suffering that Geto faced.

Nearly all of Hell.

But not all…

“What will you do, then?”

As Maki brought her clenched fist straight into Larue’s throat, the beginning of an idea started to form in Y/N’s head. Toji chuckled beside her, the ghost of his hand next to hers, as he watched his younger cousin establish her dominance. Though he may not have realized it yet, by bringing her to Y/N, Maki’s willingness to switch allegiance opened up new possibilities.

“I think I might go and visit someone.”

-•-

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[undermine-the-instinct]

Stop looking at me with those eyes!! JJK Pt l | Pt ll | Pt lll

Characters: Sukuna, Mahito, Kenjaku, Choso.

Warnings: YANDERE. Minors DNI. Due to the nature of said characters I will classify this as yandere/ darkfic. Soft(?) Gore mentions.

(A.N:I don't know what you did to get these men's attention, but good fucking luck, lol)

Love is what they this, this lesser thing beings pursue for some semblance of worth, importance. A liability, and a weakness that {Sukuna} doesn't have. But he supposes that is love by human standards. Curses fare no better. He will not debate whether curses can love or not, he does not exist to either, and he will hold himself to no standards but his own.

You are soft and sweet in his arms, and he enjoys that. Your sounds please him, whether in pleasure or pain. He savors the taste of your blood on his tongue. He wants to rip you to shreds, but he holds himself back. It will be too troublesome to find someone good enough to replace you.

So he supposes that he loves you, in his own way. The only way that matters.

He admits that he greatly enjoys the way you look at him. Your eyes shine, and while mortal means of wealth never enticed him, these are the only jewels he wants to hold in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes."

You're held up against his side, cradled in one pair of arms, bloody and tired and limp. He is not quite sated after his latest binge, and so he holds you; the remains are scattered around you both, twitching and shivering in the open air. Much like you are, you have to stop that–Predator instincts demand he sinks his teeth into you. Your flesh is a delicacy that he knows well.

But your sweet eyes– so wide and tinged with horror, are alive and bright, like lanterns cutting through the dark mist of night. So pretty. What would he do without them?

"Stop looking at me like that pet, or I'll pluck your eyes out again, like the pretty jewels they are." They were soft and veiny in his mouth, popping like gushers. Reverse cursed technique keeps you in one piece.

As if to taunt him, your eyes gleam brighter with your tears, and his hands twitch around you.

He must always catch himself. Sometimes he doesn't. He wants to keep going, keep going further and further till you're nothing more than viscera, blood in his mouth. Until the pain turns you into a curse, held above them all, just like he is. It would be better for you. It would be better for him.

But, no, not yet. He enjoys your human softness. He deserves it.

"Oh dearest." Your tears fall out unbidden, and he sighs, brings you up to his face, and licks the tracks they run down your face. Sweet, just like the rest of you.

You will stay here forevermore. You will never belong to anyone else, much less yourself.

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Mahito} is a creature born from every nasty thing humanity has ever felt or thought or done. A maelstrom, a calamity. Not a catastrophy. He is still happening after all.

Love is twisted for him, it's a thing of malcontent for him. In fact, it's one of the main things that made him up. A lover's anger at a cheating partner, vicious joy at their pain, the satisfaction of a lover's vengeance. The soft vindictiveness that comes after, when you pick up the pieces and put them back together again. It twists and quivers up in the light, and Mahito offers it all to you with a smile and horrid gleam in his dual colored eyes.

"Stop….stop looking at me with those eyes." You can barely whisper. There is a weight in your chest. Mahito quirks his head, a mockery of innocence, and doesn't even pout to make light of the situation, like he usually does.

Maybe its because he's never gone this far before. His pupils are blown out, leaving hardly any color, and they don't leave you. It scares you. He is smiling, he has been smiling this entire time, and you hate that smile. It has never been a good thing.

"Do I scare you?"

You keep quiet. Because you can't think, and you know better to blurt out the first thing in your head.

Yes, yes, you do. You know you do. And I know you like that.

"Your soul is finally trembling back into place." He hums, trailing his hands along your prone form, and you can't help the little whimper that slips past your clenched teeth. You can't handle it again. But Mahito grins, and squeezes, hard. Like a child with a fresh new toy. You're sure he's leaving bruises. The kindest touch he's given you so far.

"I worried for a moment that I'd have to mish-mash you back together, but you're fine. We're fine."

You are not fine. You are absolutely not fine.

"I tried to be gentle, like you asked me to. I tried to be considerate. But, just, look at you." The shaky exhale of his breath sends your heart racing, and your hands rush over to clamp over his wrists. He lets you.

Your skin is broken and bruised and bleeding. Your head is fuzzy, but panic keeps you alert. Your heart lugs in your chest, heavy and thumping and you feel the blood pound in your ears, it makes you want to tear yourself out open in order to stop the sick rhythm. You are sore, and you can't tell what exactly is broken, or bent out of place, but you're not dead, not this time.

You don't know how many next times you have.

Mahito softly shakes his head, looks down at all your broken and bloody bits. A breathless smile spreads across his face, while his brows furrow in question.

"How am I ever going to replace you?"

You whimper.

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Kenjaku} has means of helping you 'reincarnate'. He says helping, but really, you don't have a choice in the matter.

He has done this dozens of times, every time he obtains a new body. You are always the first thing he attends to after, your resurrection is priority. He wants your opinion, he says, and your attention, he doesn't. Your love. You're the only one worthy, and interesting, enough of standing by his side. You will remain there.

He smiles at you in this new meat suit, long black hair and smooth skin, a monks ensemble. He sits cross-legged, chin in hand.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes dearest."

"Or what? You'll pluck them out again?" You join him at the low table, if only to glare at him closer. He smiles, almost blissful.

"Not this time, I think this form suits you more than the last. I'd hate to blind you once more."

"I'll kill you one day, Kenjaku." He nods, mockingly.

"They say love is the greatest curse."

"You don't love me." You don't hiss, you don't growl or grit the words out through clenched teeth. Your hatred and malice is a dark, cold thing, settled in the pits of your belly like sediment at the bottom of the deepest ocean. It slips from your lips like the oldest poison.

"We've done this song and dance for centuries. Your morbid curiosity and lust for power is what keeps me here. I'm a pet."

"No love," he reaches over and boops your nose. He has gotten more playful in this body, and it makes you see red. It makes you afraid.

"You're an experiment."

"Like your cursed wombs?"

"No, something more personal." You roll your eyes, and move to serve your own tea. Fuck him.

"And what experiment am I an unwilling participant in, hm? How long it takes to break me?"

"How long it takes for you to love me," he corrects. The lines of the body's scar are shiny pink in the light. You want to tear it bloody.

"Which is one and the same, I suppose."

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Choso} exists for his brothers, and that is all. That is all he wants and all he feels he was truly made for, and there is no room for anything else.

Anyone else.

Much less you.

"Stop looking at me with…those eyes." He doesn't understand adoration, only duty, and he is unused to the soft rapture in your eyes. It is wasted on a being like him, anyways.

"What eyes?" You droll out, still clearly lost wherever your mind went. He tries not to think where.

"You know what eyes you're making. Stop it." He hates how the softness leaves you, brow tugging down.

"Oh, sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable with all the, um, staring."

"It's not the staring. It's the reason behind it. Your feelings are wasted on me. Place them elsewhere." You don't flinch but your shoulders hunch, and he does not take back his words. They are true and they need to be said. Your feelings are wasted on him.

He just wishes he didn't return them.

"...I can't help the fact that I love you."

"You don't." You can't. You can't.

"Even if you did, it doesn't matter."

"Don't say that. Of course it matters."

"If love ever mattered my brothers and I wouldn't exist. You would understand the situation, and what this means for all of us. Your love is shallow, because you only see that which is in front of you." He sighs, and does not meet your gaze. He doesn't know what you see.

"There is no future for us." And no future that he can secure you.

His…father created him and his brothers on a vicious whim. He will not let you be dragged into that same cruelty.

There's no need to weep. He lets you leave to compose yourself, and doesn't let you take his heart with you.

A half curse, half human thing such as he– half wretched and half tainted blood, all sharp edges and harsh things.

He was not made for love. He was not made for soft things. He was born for tragedy and he will end that way too, and he will comply with his duties as an older brother.

He can not offer you soft things. Even if he dreams of your smiles.

So, please. Stop…looking at him with those eyes.

[mischiefmaker615]

To Better Use

Rating: R

Summary: Captured, you now find yourself doing anything to protect your comrades. 

You claw at Baron’s wrist as he keeps a firm hand over your mouth while his other holds tight to your wrist pinned behind your back. Your struggling lessened the more you were sure he would break your arm whenever he yanked upon feeling you jerk. Of course you made yourself feel better by telling yourself you merely held back during your capture, he was your friend after all.. was. ‘’she managed to find our location sir, but we’re sure her capture took place before she had the chance to send out a signal.’’ Clint reported as your eyes lift up and widen to find Loki turning towards the both of you with an unreadable look on his face. Or at least, for a moment before what you could read was triumph and hunger as his eyes scanned over your body. Your SHIELD uniform did a good job hugging your figure, something you wished wasn’t existent right now as your struggles began again when he stalked towards you. You had indeed kept the chase up on your own after headquarters sunk into the ground when Loki escaped, and without working equipment, couldn’t risk staying behind with the rest and lose sight of them. Of course, a million of different results popped up in your head on how you could have gone about this differently so you didn’t find yourself before Loki now being held tightly by the friend you used to know and work with. ‘’using your natural blue orbs to blend in with the rest was indeed intelligent on your part, but coming alone was the most foolish thing you could have done.’’ Loki chuckled and flashed his eyes at Barton who understood and uncovered your mouth by relocating his arm across your throat in a hold but didn’t choke you. Taking a deep breath once your airway worked properly again, you dug your nails into Clint’s arm while your eyes glared back at Loki. ‘’you didn’t look much like a threat so I decided to take my chances.’’ You replied with sarcasm dripping in your voice as he merely smirked and placed a finger under your chin, his thumb stroking your skin as he admired your eyes. ‘’Don’t test me Y/N, I can make your life a living hell if I want to.’’ Loki replied, his voice rather calm as his eyes scanned you once more as he seemed to be thinking before his eyes switched to Clint. ‘’take her to the chamber, I shall deal with her myself.’’ Your body tensed at his words but kept your expression almost unreadable as Loki gave you one last smirk before he moved past you to the other fellow agents following under his orders. Before you could question anything, Clint moved forward, pushing his legs and chest against you so it moved you forward with his grip never faltering under your harsh nails you were sure was making him bleed. Dragging you down a few halls and around a handful of corners, he finally released you after shoving you into an extremely small and dimly lit room; with the only thing accompanying the lamp, was a bed. Spinning on your heel to face him, Clint slammed the door shut behind him before you could even try to talk him out of.. whatever spell Loki had him under. This was bad, very bad.. Your eyes scanned for a door other than the one you just came from- a window, a vent perhaps? Nothing.. the only thing you did have currently was the fight to survive and a million things going through your head; first one being, why were you still alive or mind controlled.. Your thoughts didn’t have much time for answers before the door was opened to reveal Loki who wasted no time shutting it behind him and his body noticeably relaxed itself. Trying to take over the world had its stressful moments probably.. “I’m surprised you didn’t try the door darling.’’ Loki smirked as he opened his eyes and turned to face you with a hand going directly to lock the door behind him. ‘’..it was unlocked?’’ you asked, a little surprised honestly as he smirked and took a step towards you in which you offered a step back. ‘’as soon as he left, unless you thought trying the door would be to obvious?’’ he smirked, his hands placed behind his back as if he were observing an unearthly creature. Your eyes flashed him a glare and your posture offered a position where you would try to defend yourself if he tried anything. ‘’did you just come here to make me feel stupid or are you just going to kill me now?’’ you snapped. Loki’s expression softened as he cocked his head to the side in curiosity ‘’kill a fine creature like you? Now wouldn’t that be a great waste of flesh.’’ He chuckled and proceeded to move forward. Your eyes side eyed him as you backed away, your body somehow forgetting your combat skills as you pressed yourself up against the wall before he found himself standing before you. You flinched when he raised his hands but he didn’t hit you, but merely rested his hands against the wall on either side of you, making your blue orbs move to his own questionably. ‘’Afraid I will try to pull something... ungentlemanly? Scandalous perhaps?" he seemed to mock and you gave a slight glare. ‘’why else would you be in my personal space..’’ ‘’you’ve come onto my hideaway, this is all my personal space darling.’’ He smirked and used a finger under your chin to keep you looking at him when you began to look away. Somehow, his gaze seemed to almost make you weak in the knees but.. he didn’t need to know that. ‘’this is not your planet.’’ ‘’ah, so an ambassador i have here’’ he chuckled. ‘’what do you want?’’ you demanded. ‘’oh darling, you know what I want.’’ He smirked. ‘’don’t think I didn’t notice you hiding upon my first arrival to earth. What amazes me the most is how you apparently survived my mild purge. I take it you are grateful he managed to survive.’’ The last part was laced with annoyance in his voice but your look of surprise changed his features. ‘’oh, didn’t stick around long enough to find out? So eager to keep up with me?’’ he smirked and your eyes widened in denial and confusion with your body suddenly feeling small before him. ‘’you.. you knew I was following you?’’ ‘’for quite some time darling, I just thought you’d arrive aster than you had, but I suppose your attempts to blend in took some time before my men finally picked you out.’’ He chuckled. ‘’w-why did you let me follow you?..’’ His chin tilted up slightly with his eyes glued to yours, the silence getting thick as he contemplated a moment before he simply grinned. ‘’It gets awfully lonely in almost an eternity of seclusion.. and a ravishing creature such as yourself needs to be shown the correct way of how to serve and not for these weak mortals..’’ Your back couldn’t have sunk farther into the wall by his words, nor could your eyes have gotten any wider as you came to the realization of what he meant. ‘’..don’t think for one second that I’d ever-‘’ Your words turned into a yelp when he snatched your jaw in his hand and tilted your head up, looking over your face with a mild-serious expression as if inspecting something. Your hands gripped his wrist, a move foolish on your part where he then noticed your trembling and he merely chuckled, eyes softened. ‘’you are shaking way to early darling, but do not fear. Behave and I shall be gentle with you.’’ He said softly and his hand switched to your hair, making you wince and your hands moved to his wrist once more. Once the thought of kicking him struck your mind, he had already shoved you down onto your knees before him, causing you to yelp. ‘’ah ah ah darling, I wouldn’t dare if I were you or I’ll go back on my promise n being gentle. You wouldn’t want your precious comrades getting hurt either would you?’’ he smirked and you glared up at him when he released your hair. ‘’now darling, I will give you a choice. You do it or I will.’’ The last part was a warning tone, somehow making a threat sounding sexy as you glanced in front of you with something catching your eye. His growing erection. Your eyes flashed up at him as he took a seat behind him on the bed, manspreading as you began feeling your limbs ach and shake. Why the hell did you come here alone.. why the hell in another life perhaps you could see yourself wanting this.. why the hell.. ‘’.. I’d rather be mind controlled then do it willingly.’’ You snapped and he merely chuckled as if you told a joke. ‘’you clearly don’t care about the well being of your fellow comrades do you? You saw- what? Dozens out there all under my control and you are telling me you’d carelessly sacrifice all of them all because you don’t wish to take it upon yourself to pleasure your king?’’ ‘’your no kin-‘’ ‘’ill start with Baron first. And I’ll be sure you watch. Every single drop of blood fall as a make his suffering last.’’ Loki said casually, his voice a sigh as if he had no choice but to do the simple chore and that’s what made you stop him. Clearly he showed no emotion or care in killing others, even when he first arrived he didn’t even hesitate.. there was no bluff. He would do it. ignoring the sick feeling in your stomach, you avoided his gaze and eyed his groin, crawling over to him in which you saw his erection twitch by the mere act in doing so. Sitting on the back of your heels, you raised your shaky hands and moved them over his lap to try to find an opening, a zipper, something. You could practically feel him smirk as he made you feel like a fool and in one simple motion, he pulled himself out of his complicated Asgardian attire. By the gods it was huge.. you’ve seen many men before in your lifetime but him.. you truly knew now the difference between a man and a god. Giving a quick glance up at his eyes was a mistake as he gave you a smug and knowing look. Ignoring his cockiness, your eyes moved back to his.. well, more than ready cock as it glistened with slight precum. There was no way you thought you could take it all the way in your mouth but you’d worry about it later as you just told yourself it was all to protect your team. You had to practically use both our hands as you gripped him, feeling his body almost flinch as he sucked in a breath by your touch and you almost seemed to be filled with a sense of power. Despite your situation here, the fact that he was hard because of you, the fact that his breathing and body reacted because of you, it almost made you want to return the smugness back at him. With a good grip on him, you used your hands to stroke him up and down while you leaned more forward to his tip. Taking one last breath, you ran your tongue across the tip and felt him shudder. Keeping your eyes glued to what you were doing, you bent and ran your tongue up his shaft before taking him into your mouth. You took as much as you knew you could handle and your hands cared for the rest and by how much that was, your mouth couldn’t even take half of him. That thought didn’t seem to bother you as it didn’t bother him as you took a quick peak and he was taking deep breaths, his head tilted back with his eyes closed. In that moment, he was the most beautiful being you had even seen.. it almost gave you the main motivation to get you to keep going as you began using your hands to stroke him while your head began to slowly bob up and down. It was hard to concentrate on the positives of why you were doing this in the first place when, to your demies, felt a pool formulate between your legs that almost made you pause. Were.. were you wet? ‘’this is obviously not your first time darling..’’ Loki breathed as he stroked your hair and you almost wanted to hate him. why couldn’t you? You used your tongue to run against him and your throat on the other side of his cock to be what gripped him. most girls you figured spent most of their time trying to be impressive by taking it all in rather than focus on the mere focus of making it feel good. Your knowledge seemed to work on Loki at least as you could hear him let out a breathy moan. Beginning to pick up the pace, you bobbed your head a bit faster while also doing your best to suck on him more. You could feel his leg muscles tighten and you figured he was doing his best not to buck. Hoping what you were doing was just enough, you kept at it before you jumped at the feeling of his fingers in our hair. Starting to pull back a little, his fingers tightened to stop you and took the initiative by pushing your head down more before pulling it back up repeatedly. Trying not to resist so he could understand he didn’t need to force you, it didn’t seem to come across him. hat, or he didn’t care anymore as he began bucking his hips up now to match your throat. With him guiding your head with his fingers in your hair and his hips snapping up, the face now began making your eyes water and your gag reflex to begin to trigger. You remembered a small trick to prevent your gag reflex which was to squeeze your thumb down but his harsh movement canceled that trick out. Panic began filling your chest as you tapped and pushed against his thighs to try to free himself but that just seemed to make him down faster as his heavy breathing and moans filled your ears. The thought of choking to breath flashed in your mind and before you could feel like you’d die if he kept going longer, you felt his cock twitch in your throat and his thrusts slowed. Your eyes widened as your body tensed, feeling hot liquid shooting and running down your throat. Releasing a small whimper, Loki kept your head down and stilled his movement. ‘’you will take all of me little one’’ he growled and didn’t release you until you swallowed every drop. Once you had, he finally released your hair and you fell back onto your rump, taking in generous amounts of air as your hand held your sore throat. ‘’f-fuck you..’’ you croaked, rubbing your neck as your eyes timidly glanced at him and he chuckled, standing up where his hands moved to properly undo his pants. ‘’well what did you think was going to happen next..’’

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to kill my evil(ish) symbiote?

For context, I (19F) am an adventurer. I come from a small town, but I really like to travel and fight and explore. Also for context, one of the gods in our continent's pantheon doesn't really exist anymore— they used to be a sentient entity like all the other gods, but wanted to become 'more' than that, so they gave up all of their conscious thought, emotions, stuff like that, and locked all that stuff away in a tower to basically become more of an omniscient force of nature, like a law of physics. That tower was in my small town, and a few years back, something messed up broke out and escaped from it. We've just been calling it the shadow.

So, my best friend (19F) and I had been adventuring around our town for a few years, and a couple times now, we'd been accosted by this shadow monster. It started two years ago. It had basically been jumping from body to body, surviving in the bodies of animals and random people and corrupting them to attack us. After a particularly dangerous mission out of town, I fought with it, and it promised to kill everyone I love before immediately darting away. I panicked and we raced back home, but it got there before we did, and it had attacked my dad and injured him really badly. A really powerful family friend at the time managed to fight it off, and as I got back, the shadow realized I had some pretty powerful associates and became interested in me, and decided it wanted me to be its host. So it jumped into one of my tattoos and, essentially, became a symbiote. For the most part, it just talked to me (it was a real asshole), but it also gave me powers that could make me fight better, and even brought me back up from the brink of death a few times. But it also used magic to charm me once when I didn't do what it said, and even took control of my body to help us win a really brutal fight. I learned that what it wanted was to build itself a body of its own. Since it was basically made up of all the parts of a god that it didn't want and was imprisoned in a tower for what felt like eternity, it had been through a lot and only really knew being cast off. We learned more about each other and were times it felt like we were even starting to bond. But it still hated me and I still hated it.

After we managed to save our town, both of us decided this arrangement couldn't work anymore, so the shadow offered two options: we could wait several years as it started to build a new body as the body incubated, or we could go on a trip to try and find it a new host. I did not want to wait that long, so we started to travel together. It took about a year, and to tell you the truth we sort of bonded a bit along the way! There were times when we would laugh and joke together, it saved me a couple times, I learned more about it. It seems like it just wanted to have a real body and be able to interact with the world more than anything else. But it still attacked my dad and hurt my friend and charmed me before. It's hard to forget that stuff. After months of traveling, I stowed away on a pirate airship, where I learned the captain was a witch who was going to die soon. This is where it gets a bit iffy: I knew she was going to die. Like, soon. So I tried to offer her as a host to the shadow, because I figured if she died, the shadow would probably die too. It turns out, it was listening in, and it knew she was dying too, so it got really hurt and offended that I was trying to kill it. It found a different host instead, and now things are really awkward between us. On one hand, I did try to deceive and kill it while it was in a very vulnerable position, and also tried to foist a malevolent shadow monster off on a dying woman. That's sort of bad. On the other, like, it is (was?) evil! And did all that bad stuff! And maybe it's better for the world that it's not alive? I don't know. I feel a bit guilty. AITA?

[winxdoodles]

One thing that has always bothered me about Season 5 is how isolated it feels from the rest of the seasons—almost as if it exists in its own bubble (pun intended).

The moment the Winx get their aquatic transformation or the ability to go underwater, suddenly, nearly every-single mission is on the damn ocean. I really can’t stand how half of season is spent underwater. It just feels so unnatural. It's like they locked the Winx into a single setting. Season 8, for example, which is space-themed, still manages to give a variety of settings beyond just the cosmos. It takes on the "space" theme without feeling like every episode has to be about a star or another planet. Season 5 on the other hand feels so constrained and reluctant to step outside its theme.

And one can say that Season 4 is a similar example of a bubbled season since its majority is set on Earth. But In my opinion I don’t think it suffers from the same issues. Not only does it feel like a natural continuation from Season 3, but it also brings a lot of diverse environments into the mix. It feels alive and varied.

Season 5, on the other hand, despite being set across multiple planets, feels like it’s constantly drawing us back underwater, making it repetitive and claustrophobic. Especially in the second half of the season, the Infinite Ocean just looks the same no matter where the Winx are, turning it into this blurry, watery backdrop where every corner feels identical. It didn’t help that the episodic structure felt repetitive, with each episode looping back to yet another quest for the gems or the pillars, which made the story feel stuck in a cycle.

And sure, maybe I'm a bit biased, considering Season 5 is one of my least favorite seasons, but the issues are just so obvious in every episode that it's so hard not to point them out. The transformations are almost identical for each girl, stripping away any unique touches that each Winx used to have, and the forced 3D doesn’t help either. But beyond that, I hate how the season seems to regress everything the Winx accomplished by the end of season 4. It’s like they took a step backwards in both character development and story.

Season 5 felt like rainbow was trying too hard to modernize the show that it ended up taking away its charm.

[intuitive-revelations]

Doctor Who Thoughts! (Ep 1 and 2)

Since the spoiler situation is so risky this year, I'll keep my usual episode notes below a read more for now. Took these non-chronologically while watching and rewatching (becuase even though I'm ridiculously busy rn with thesis and work stuff, of course I'm doing that), so it's less of a reaction and more of a moment-to-moment breakdown.

Ep 1: Space Babies

"I was adopted and the planet that took me in... they were kinda posh. They'd use titles like the Doctor, or the Bishop, or the Rani, or the conquistador. Say Doctor for a thousand years and it becomes my name." So we're right in with the recap. Good. Also still leaning on the Timeless Child thing, which I have mixed feelings about. I love it not being ignored... but I would still rather it not become THE origin for the Doctor. At least not without acknowledging some of the ambiguity on how exactly the Timeless Child is linked to the Doctor. (Personal favourite explanation: they're just the Other. They're not a previous 'incarnation' of the Doctor, but a previous 'REincarnation', something which we know existed on Gallifrey even prior to regeneration, and opens up its own questions about Gallifrey.)

A little odd emphasis on the titles, given it's such a renegade thing. Makes me think of entry-level fans who assume all Time Lords use such titles.

Love the Rani name drop though, of course. A bit odd to get one now, considering there was JUST almost one in The Giggle. Russell what are you up to...?

"You're the Doctor, but you're… the police?" "Police box, no! No, no, no, no, that's a disguise." "Oh." Ruby takes a deep breath realising she didn't just join a cop.

You CAN'T just spring This is Gallifrey on me like that Murray Gold. Not this early.

"I am the last of the Time Lords"... ugh again. Thanks Chibbs.

Also still a bit interesting that all Time Lords are assumed to be gone, given there's nothing as catostrophic as the Time War that caused it, just the Master raging out. There's still plenty of room for surviving renegades and such. (cough!Rassiloncough!) Pretty sure the Division agents in Flux were Time Lords too, though who knows if they're from the 'present' era. More on this in Ep 2.

"And I am so, so glad to be alive." Wow, you can tell 14 went through his break. Quite a turn around from 12 hesitating to regenerate and 13's hidden struggles.

The Doctor healing the butterfly... on one hand, it's not unprecedented with stuff like 10 and the TARDIS crystal, 11 healing River's hand or 12 and Davros, but compared to those cases it's a little odd seeing it done so easily for something with no tech or inate regenerative ability.

I find it interesting that Lizard!Ruby looks almost Silurian, but clearly isn't given her hair and antennae.

The TARDIS trip gags of this and 'mavity' are a fun stylistic switch for the show, but I do hope we don't get too many of them.

"Is that a matter transporter like in Star Trek?" "We've got to visit them one day." Assimilation^2 canon?! /s (but seriously, love stuff acknowledging the 'everything is canon' nature of the DW uni-/multiverse).

So much emphasis on the coincidence with Ruby. RTD loves that trope doesn't he?

"Baby farms boost the population. Sometimes a world goes sterile or... I don't know, goes mad and bans kissing." Or in the case of Gallifrey... maybe both, depending on how you follow Platt or Parkin's lore for the looms.

Don't think I didn't spot that Mavity easter egg on the overlay.

The phone call is a nice moment... even if entirely RTD ripping himself off.

So... the space babies! It's charming, it's campy, it's fun... it doesn't really work... I'm still glad for it, because what is Doctor Who if not being exceedingly ambitious with a dumb idea (if anything I'm glad that even with Disney money, DW's production value shines through!), but the babies expressions always match so poorly to the dialogue that it's pretty distracting. I hope kids will like it though.

I kinda wish these were just child actors, instead of cgi, babies, and voice acting. It would have made a lot more sense in the story, and probably been cuter tbh. (Side note: didn't Disney ask RTD to propose a more ambitious first episode? I wonder if that had some part in this.)

"I made this for you. It's a little flower." Some of Eric's expressions with the dialogue do make me crack up a bit though.

Also glad to see more "[blank] in space" formula episodes, since that was one thing the RTD era always really shined with.

The waiting for Mummy and Daddy thing is very charming too. As is the Doctor and Ruby taking time to give them all hugs.

The multi-pronged satellite design weirdly evokes the Division's timeship design. Definitely just a funny coincidence though. It's cool seeing less 'one-way-up' station designs though.

"Did we grow up wrong?" 😥 (Also with looms on mind, this weirdly feels like a reverse 'childe' situation.)

"Oh 'Nanomatrix electroform'." With the revelation that 'Nan-E' is a person, I like to think this is the Doctor just bullshitting his way through.

The snow and the memory changing is... interesting. More later.

"Oh, I thought my birth was crazy!" Let's not get into it Snail.

The shutting down of the baby station, yet it being illegal to actually stop birthing them even though the station has a limited lifespan feels VERY topical to me, in a weird way. It evokes the post-Roe abortion bans in America, and how pro-life people only care about the fetus, regardless of viability or post-birth care.

"That's the fate of every refugee in the universe. You physically have to turn up on someone else's shore." Again politics, quite explicitly with the use of 'shore' rather than orbit or a similar term that makes sense in an interplanetary context.

"Children will return to the upper levels, or have no /expletive/ dinner. Let Nan-E say fuck!

I love all the actual info in the screen art. If I was an active wiki editor I'd love to take the time to break down all the system info.

At first I thought the bogeyman would be a more 'fantasy' creature a la the Goblins, between it's storybook nature and scaring the Doctor, so it being an artificial creature designed to be scary down to its sounds was a cool twist. Also being made out of bogies?

The fact the story also firmly decides that it's worth saving too? That it's "one of the children"? Muah! 👌 No notes.

The way the airlock works with the 'oxygen field' is a little counter-intuitive and confusing, but I'll allow it. I take it as a safeguard force field gradually powering down, hence the slow depressurisation.

"A great pile of sh-" Let the Doctor say shit"

I buy the methane working to get them to Mondo Caroon a bit less. Hopefully planetary orbit is close enough for refugee status.

Again, Eric's face cracks me up.

TARDIS key! I like this tradition.

A bit cruel to not take Ruby to Ruby Road after bringing up the mystery during the episode, even if it makes sense. Clearly also a bit of a callback to Father's Day.

The emphasis on Ruby's adoptive mum vs bio mum is good.

This arc with Ruby feels weirdly like RTD giving his own take on a Series 6/7 story arc, even down to the ambiguous TARDIS bioscan like with Amy.

When the Doctor mentioned Time Lords and titles again, I was bracing myself to see something related in the scan, so didn't even realise it was snowing until the wide shot. But it said her species was human, so nevermind...

"My name was..." Such a tease! I doubt he's actually giving his birthname, even though it's not unprecedented for the Doctor to tell people. Probably either just explaining the title or something.

Ep 2: The Devils Chord

Maestro emerging from anything playing music is so Wordlord-core.

"Henry get away from him." "Them." Woo!

I could have sworn 'Timothy Drake' would be a real person (at first I assumed he was somehow linked to the Beatles), but a quick google doesn't seem to find anything? All I found was a modern-day composer, who seems to have done an album based on Voyager data. Weird choice to go with just a random person sharing the name of a DC character.

Henry Arbinger is neat. If he's actually a seperate character, I guess he's technically the Toymaker's grandson? He does seem to pre-exist Maesto's imprisonment.

Maestro is so good throughout the whole episode.

The fourth wall breaking with the theme! Transition into the main theme could have been smoother though. I kinda wish they just kept a full piano version all the way through, like Capaldi's guitar.

Speaking of the theme, it somehow appearing in universe on the jukebox?! Really funnily lines up with a later joke in retrospect.

"My mum she had a girlfriend: Claire." Between this, the "heartbroken lesbian song" later and Maestro, this episode really starts to showcase the queerness of this era.

Ruby's first plaid dress is so Clara-ish. As for 15… while I don't mind the Doctor being a bit more casual, seeing him wandering the TARDIS in jeans and trainers is kinda meh. The period costumes are great though. Always happy to see those.

Speaking of 15 and Ruby. They continue to be a delight.

Not gonna lie, as someone who's never really listened to the Beatles but knows their songs only vaguely, it took me a moment to realise there was something wrong with their 'dog' song.

Wasn't expecting the Cilla Black cameo!

Very weird doing a historical with living people. Particularly Paul McCartney, given he has a fairly prominent role, along with John Lennon.

Probably a bunch of easter eggs I'm missing because I don't know the Beatles. I only just discovered while writing that the "Mr Epstein" the Doctor mentioned was their manager.

Weird that we've had two mentions of the First Doctor and Susan in 1963 in two episodes. With it being Feb 11th here… cue more fan debate about when exactly they arrived in London, especially if you account for the "bad smog" in December 1962 line.

"You've got children?" "I did have. I will have." Now he could just be referring to the First Doctor's future, but I can't help but imagine this as a Miranda Dawkins reference! In fairness, he does say that "Time Lords get a bit complicated" which doesn't really match that interpretation. Could also connect it to the future!Other + Other'sGranddaughter!Susan interpretation of things I suppose.

"Where is she?" "I don't know. The Time Lords were murdered. The genocide rolled across time and space, like a great big cellular explosion. Maybe it killed her too." Uhhhhhhhhhh, WTF does that mean? It doesn't sound like the Master's actions, unless he went on a killing spree beyond Gallifrey? My best guess is it's referring to the Time War (in general, rather than just its ending - which tbf does at least match our current knowledge about Susan's fate). If it does refer to it, it kinda seems to ignore both the Moffat and Chibnall arcs with Gallifrey, both its return and its destruction again, by referring to the Time Lords as being 'murdered' in that genocide. Sounds more like The Ancestor Cell than anything tbh. The wiki connects it to the Death particle, but I doubt that.

Maestro giving the Giggle, already connected to music, and the Doctor immediately grabbing Ruby's hand and running running?!

The Doctor removing the sound with the sonic sure is... another sonic power. I've never been one to complain about the sonic use, but between this, plugging in the sonic last episode and the holograms and force field in the anniversary specials, this is getting a bit much. I'll allow it in this case though, as I assume it's working through the TARDIS translation circuit.

The sound design is great this episode.

Also again, the fourth wall breaks rule.

"That thing must be part of the pantheon" Wait... it's obviously linked to the Toymaker but... the pantheon as in the Pantheon of Discord? Like the Trickster's part of?

"One trick once: that's all you get with gods."

June 2024. Woah, so it's been a big time skip! 6 months from Ruby's perspective, and she has been travelling at least some of that time. The Doctor might know what's up with Ruby by this point?

Kinda crazy how much emphasis we've gotten ever since Flux on time's malleability, with the time tracks shifting so easily. Really supports my idea that the Ravagers' attempt to undo the Anchoring of the Thread has had an ongoing effect.

The ash turning to confetti when Maestro appears!

"Lord Temporal" ooh, how Obverse Books of you Maestro!

"Child of the Toymaker" Huh. That works surprisingly well with the version of the Toymaker's origin that has a sister (Hecuba from "The Queen of Time"). Interesting, considering The Giggle seemed to lean more in the Crystal Guardian direction.

"The Music of the Spheres" I know it's an actual term, but you can't say that without me thinking of the Prom minisode.

"You might be bright, and hot, and... *dun du-dun* timey-wimey." Heck yeah. Only contention is it could have been slightly more perfect if Maestro played the four-beat baseline, since 'heartbeat of a Time Lord' and all that. I guess that's kinda synonymous with the Master though, which might have been misleading.

Though they do then play four beats when attacking the TARDIS (also awesome), so I guess they could have gone with it in the first place.

"The only thing I can do is take us back to 1963!" Fast return switch time?

Him kissing the TARDIS better!

Weird emphasis on the TARDIS groan once they exit. Seemed disconnected from Maestro, but didn't come back again.

"I thought that was non-digetic" Perfect! So should we take this to mean that the Doctor can hear the show's soundtrack?!

The music while Ruby is dragged away. At first I thought it was "The Sun's Gone Wibbly", but listening closely it sounds closer to the music from the climax of Waters of Mars, itself very similar.

"Playing lovesick songs for heartbroken lesbians." I mentioned the queerness of the episode already, but can I also point out I think this is the first time we've actually used LGBT terminology in the show? We've certainly used the descriptors before and plenty of people have explicitly had partners of the same gender etc., but for example, Bill never called herself a lesbian, nor did Clara ever identify as bi. Only exception is 'gay', and even then it's mostly only been jokes (eg. the thin fat gay Anglican marines, Rose calling Nine gay as an insult etc.).

"How can a song have so much power, and power like him? The Oldest One. The night of her birth, he can't have been there. What for?!" Oooh, so the One Who Waits is connected to Ruby. Interesting... also another connection to the Guardians and/or 'pantheon'. Is the One Who Waits one of either of those? If a Guardian, then the only candidate is the Red Guardian (who was technically there that night being the Doctor), but that would be ridiculous to be the answer. If connected to the latter, then... the Trickster? Or more likely someone completely new, of course.

Ngl, at first a little part of me thought the 'reverse devil's chord' would end up being part of the theme song.

The Beatles were surprisingly underused through the episode, but them finding the chord is a decent use of them, even if it could be seen from miles away.

The wink launching into a song and dance number, less so! I was wondering when the musical scenes from the trailer were coming...

Shout out also to the Murray Gold cameo on the piano, somehow playing himself according to the credits, despite this being in the 60s.

I'm not familar with them so not 100%, but I think the two dancing with the Doctor and Ruby here are cameos from Strictly Come Dancing too? Specifically Shirley Ballas and Johannes Radebe.

Speaking of "the twist in the end" pretty cool that "Harbinger" survives. It's unlikely, but I'd love to see Maestro return, maybe for a full-on musical episode?

The piano dancing was cute. Very 'Big'!

Overall thoughts in a few words?

Space Babies was kind of meh, even if I appreciate the campiness of it and the ending is pretty good. Pretty standard decent, if not great, episode.

The Devil's Chord however might actually be one of my favourites? Maybe even my favourite RTD episode, though I'd have to think through them all. And that's without being a Beatles fan and probably missing all sorts of flourishes.

Looking forward very much to next episode too, with Moffat back! I saw the episode was about the Doctor stepping on a landmine, but I thought that was a joke before the Next Time teaser. 😅 Apparently it's Ncuti's favourite episode of the season, which is a good sign!

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Depersonalisation Derealisation is hell. I've had it 24/7 for as long as I can remember, from early childhood- thank you early traumas- and honestly. I don't know if I've ever known what it was to feel alive, or present, or like my body is even my own.

I describe it in the following ways, some more poetic than others;

- I'm ghost, whilst everyone else is alive. Maybe I've tricked them into thinking I'm one of them, but I can never truly reach them or interact with the world, and they can never truly reach me.

- Existing, but a step to the left.

- Sort of like that hazy state when you're drunk, but oh boy, life is sober

- Like when you're playing VR, and you're aware its a game, but its real life and I can't get this fuxking headset off... added bonus of hearing yourself speak, but the voice does not sound like your own. Your face looks like a stranger in the mirror, your hands move, but you don't truly feel in control of them.

Also? Dissociative fugue states and dissociative amnesia are a thing, and they suck. "Waking" up not being able to remember the past few hours, days, even months, still feeling incredibly unreal, not truly able to explain why you are where you are is the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. Thankfully these states are rare, I have short lapses of the amnesia these days, and few fugue states.

I legit ended up funded to see a clinic for complex trauma and dissociation, my therapist specialises in dissociation disorders, and have been through years of therapy in general. It will never be cured- mine appears to stem from some combination of trauma, genetics, being born 3 months premature and comorbid diseases that impact the brain function- but I now have a solid understanding of it. I'm not afraid of it anymore, but by gods, did I used to be.

Its one of the single most isolating things I know of, and so hard to succinctly describe. How can you make someone understand what it feels like not to be real? How can you explain that you just. Don't exist? That your body is a shell, that you're living a stranger's life, that you don't know who you are or what reality actually is...

But hey! Its great for writing trauma/whump, and decidedly underutilised in both. Dissociation is the brain's natural response to complex and prolonged trauma, and whilst I have rarely met anyone with dissociation as severe as I experience, 99.999999% of people who have experienced trauma will be intimately familiar with Dissociation in some way shape or form. Hell, almost everyone trauma or not will have experienced very mild forms of dissociation even in their day to day life- that feeling of being spaced out during a long day, or not really having a memory of your ride home from work - do with this info what you will (note again these examples are mild , severe dissociation is much worse please don't downplay what I and others with trauma truly go through)

Well this turned into a ramble, sorry OP for hijacking your post I just... like talking about dissociation, it makes me feel less alone.

i think the funniest thing about living such a surreal life while having dissociative disorders is that shit sometimes starts feeling so profoundly unreal that im not exactly sure how to even explain to myself anymore what my life is, like this just feels like a weird cyberpunk tv drama im watching sometimes but like no girlie this is ur life

[carnalcervid]

(22, FTM here) // I know this is weird but I redownloaded tumblr just to find someone freaky af on here to confess to. it’s eating me alive and I genuinely have no one I can tell so I hope you’re okay with this (ignore if not and I’m sorry, btw this isn’t some “hot confession” this is something that’s bothering me)

this is about to be REALLY strange, but again I have to tell someone. I have been watching rick and morty every night before bed, and idk if you’ve ever seen the show, but it has a crazy amount of incest “jokes.” it’s so abundant it’s one of the main complaints about the show.

there’s a lot of incest in the show, mostly about r&m. they literally fuck each other with a sex dragon during a “soul bond” and in another scene they marry in a different, yet canon, reality. apparently when justin roiland was still around, him and the other co-creator both tweeted and said they approve of and even encourage the r&m ship, and said they might make an episode on it in the future (they even said it was canon in several different realities) and it’s hinted at A LOT in the show, like a lot.

there are some fucked up scenes too that try to be passed off as a joke but they’re clearly someone’s fetish or something (think dan schneider putting feet in so many shows/episodes “as a joke/to be funny”)

well… one of the most disgusting scenes actually turned me on a little and I’ve been struggling with it since. I’m not into incest, and even was touched as a kid by my brother. like, I’m not into incest or the roleplay incest at all, and of course I’m not into anything underage either. I know it’s just a cartoon, it’s not like any of it was real, but I’m still really conflicted.

there’s a scene where r&m have sentient facehugger aliens on their faces that control them, and the two aliens fall in love together, and start passionately making out. it was literally r&m making out but they had an alien facemask on, and again this is the type of humor in r&m that’s supposed to “be a joke,” meanwhile it’s turning me on and then making me feel ashamed of myself.

can you… offer advice? or anything at all? is this…okay? I don’t know how to end this confession. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all, and again, you don’t have to answer this (obviously, it’s your blog you can do what you want).

-🎪

i feel like this touches on very genuine issues ive thought about before.

first off, it really is okay to be aroused by something and not like it, not want to participate in it, and not want to be aroused by it again. i feel like that both goes without saying and needed to be said just in case

however. what do you do when a piece media arouses you in a way you don't like, and also when that media is doing it intentionally.

it is genuinely only natural to be drawn towards taboo, in reality and in fiction, and most kinks and feitshes are a form of power exchange, or some kind of attraction. it can be helpful to break down your arousal into broader categories to find out specifically why it's arousing and reassure yourself that you like it because its a similar dynamic to your already existing kinks, and not because youre a bad person who wants genuinely bad and harmful things.

however. even though r&m is fictional. even though its okay to be aroused by these topics and not want it. to me, whats happening is that you're getting ready for bed with a TV show, and instead are being shown trigger porn for various feitshes. especially with the creators explicitly saying thats what theyre doing. and personally i don't think its fair for the creators to do this. just the same as dan schneider putting feet in so many shows/episodes - it's not fair to create a piece of media for regular viewing and then fill it with their personal fetishes. (unrelated, but i just had this exact problem with the anime hunterxhunter)

i fully believe creators are allowed to do whatever they want with their creation, but also when the biggest complaint about the series is the fact that the creator is doing whatever they want with their creation. they're probably showing it to the wrong audience, or doing something shitty lol

It's different when the eroticism has a point in the media, but these "as a joke" type insertions usually just make no sense and are really uncomfortable for viewers to have to sit through. i only ever saw the first 3 seasons as they came out before deciding i no longer can watch it because it just makes me uncomfortable in various ways i dont fully remember because its been so long.

my recommendation is that, if you can't view the media without being like "okay we get it your have a [insert thing here] fetish can we move on", and if its genuinely bothering you because you can't compartmentalize your reaction to it (for example, knowing its something arousing but not being interested in it), i would stop watching the media. at this point its clear that these topics will be heavily featured in the series, and that doesnt mean anyone who's watching wants or expects that, just that. it's something youll have to sit through if you're trying to enjoy the show.

[sovereignsimmer]

I am deeply fascinated by astrophysics and cosmology. There is something profoundly humbling about these fields. The more I learn about the cosmos and expand my limited understanding of the universe, the smaller and more insignificant I feel. As someone inherently self-aware and confident, this new perspective has fundamentally changed the way I interact with my surroundings and experience the world.

I identify as a pantheist, or what some might term a spiritual atheist. I have no tolerance for the submission or devotion often demanded by monotheistic religions. I find no respect for the hypocrisy and bigotry that many deities' followers exhibit, often demonizing those outside their cults. However, in the vast expanse of the infinite void we call space, I feel both humbled and fortunate. The scientific evidence currently available suggests that life is indeed a miracle, an exceedingly rare occurrence in the universe. I consider myself lucky to be alive and aware of my own existence.

This awareness doesn't necessarily have to carry a deeper meaning. I am small and finite, but my atoms and subatomic particles will persist in the universe even after the sun explodes, consuming our planet and turning everything to ash and dust while its light continues to travel deep into space. Ultimately, we will all become stardust and photons, a notion I find incredibly poetic. Learning, understanding, and accepting these truths helps me cope with life's struggles. While such knowledge may seem daunting to many, it reminds me how insignificant my worries are in the grand scheme of things.

In the universe, chaos prevails. It is only natural for our lives to be chaotic, as total annihilation is inevitable for all living stars. Eventually, we will all reach tranquility and equilibrium in the darkness of empty space once all stars die out. Perhaps the universe will collapse in on itself, and we will become one in singularity, equalized and neutralized—a state of being or non-being that is equally poetic.

In the end, nothing truly matters. Neither I nor you. Nothing does, really.

[badnikbreaker]

dark sonic headcanons! i love this guy!

firstly, it's worth nothing that while i am obviously basing this off his brief appearance in sonic x, i'm also Making It Worse. the watsonian explanation is that sonic's gotten worse himself since sonic x; his brain's more fucked, as is his internal chaos energy. the doylist explanation is i love pain.

now, from a mechanics point of view — dark form can only be reached when sonic's exposed to chaos energy of a particular kind; it must be corrupted, false, etc. normal chaos energy can't cause it, and no emotional extreme can take him there in and of itself. dark sonic is, fundamentally, a corruption of sonic's super form — and he can't reach that just by willing it, either.

dark form works similarly to his super form in other ways, too — his speed and strength both increase dramatically. he can't be physically harmed, but being struck or damaged will shorten the time he can remain in his super form. he can't stay in the form as long as he can stay in super form — dark just takes a lot out of him — but it's, conversely, harder for him to get out of it early. he can turn super form off and go back to normal sonic basically whenever he wants, but it's much, much more difficult to get out of dark form. not impossible! but harder.

as far as the emotions and etc involved in going dark — dark sonic is born, in x, from a combination of protectiveness, rage, and corrupted / false chaos energy. dark sonic often exists in the fandom as a sort of generic rageform, but it's not just anger or fear — it's a particular flavor of anger and fear born of protectiveness for those he loves. he's exposed to fucked up chaos energy, sees two people he loves, one of whom has been harmed to the point of unconsciousness and one of whom is bruised and clearly terrified, both of whom are caged, both of whom are looking forward to death at best if he can't get them out.

the intensity of sonic's protectiveness isn't always obvious outwardly. but he moves from his characteristic easy confidence to literally unlocking a dark and uniquely violent form the minute he sees his friends in meaningful danger ( particularly at the hands of a monster who's dehumanizing them / using them to get to him, which infuriates him in its own way ). the false chaos emeralds allow him to express those emotions — in a truly extreme way — but they don't cause those feelings. without the emeralds, sonic's reaction would have been much more level, but, to me, that just means that he is feeling a lot more violent protectiveness than he typically expresses.

i don't mean to imply that sonic is, like, secretly harboring homicidal feelings that he is repressing. he's not going to wanna commit murder the next time someone threatens knuckles or something. what i mean is that his natural state tends towards a very intense protectiveness and he's an act first, ask questions later type — those traits are just kept in check and balanced by his other characteristics as well.

dark sonic strips away a lot of those other characteristics. the form functions as an extreme form of fight or flight, though it tends to be pointed at love and protectiveness towards others rather than himself ( and i don't think dark form could be triggered by fear for his own life ). but it's the same basic thing; his body shuts off every instinct that isn't pointed at keeping himself / others alive and heightens the ones that are useful in a highly dangerous situation. his quick temper and tendency towards anger and his deep capacity for violence and hatred, which aren't typically obvious, are all on display.

additionally, it also ends up serving as a kind of fucked up catharsis. all the feelings he doesn't acknowledge, all the fears he doesn't touch, that aren't safe elsewhere, find their outlet here. sonic is a DEEPLY repressed guy, despite appearing the opposite, and even at a base level part of why he loves fighting and danger and adrenaline ( especially against an opponent that can really match / push him ) is that it's an outlet. he can't deal with his complexes or his traumas, but he CAN go FUCKING NUTS in a fight, which is the next best thing. dark form takes this instinct and worsens it.

that's not to say he's particularly expressive as dark — he really only has two modes. a strained, quiet sort of smiley, maybe with a few unsettling laughs thrown in for good measure; or totally silent, seething rage. he's not incapable of quipping, particularly early in the fight, but any chatter is very short — "you want a fight? THEN HERE IT IS!" — and come much more rarely than they do at a default level.

it's very obvious that he's extremely out of control of himself and his reactions. even when he's grinning, and he isn't often, it's apparent that he's also miserable and stressed. he's so terrified and tunnel - visioned, he can easily end up hurting those he doesn't even want to harm. because dark form functions as a form of fight or flight, his mind is focusing on potential risks and blocking out anything that doesn't fit that mold. it's easy, in that state, to not see a loved one while trying to get at an enemy — or, worse, to see an enemy where a friend stands.

[artbypaz]

Art Deep Dive #1: ‘Rooted’

Art Deep Dive #1: ‘Rooted’

When I was 29 I created this mixed medium piece I’ve titled ‘Rooted’. I love trees. They’re fascinating, kind, and inspiring. I took a trip out to Oakhurst where I met an oak tree, go figure. I was inspired by not only the size of the tree but also its beautiful leaves highlighting a gorgeous variety of greens that moved gently in the wind as the tree stood proudly on its own. I named the tree Bob Oakenkirk for my own amusement. After talking to the tree for a moment the only thing left was to paint.

I drew out a loose outline of the tree on the canvas. I love trees that twist and turn with their branches knotting into themselves. I think that’s when they really have character. Acrylic made sense for the branches, but I wanted to give the wood a shine as if a golden morning light was hitting it. So, I mixed my umbers with metallic copper and a few drops of metallic gold. Then it was just adding layer after layer. I love texture, especially in paintings. I know I’m done with one of my paintings when I want to touch it and feel every bump, every brush stroke, every layer. This piece got thick fast. I wanted the tree to feel big and mighty as well as feel alive and centered. I wanted to capture Bob’s personality. For the leaves, I added subtle textures and various shades of lighter forest-inspired green colors, as a base coat. Nothing special, just splatters and strokes here and there. The real green painting was used for the hill the tree is standing on. However, I used darker greens for that section to not take away from the focus of the tree’s leaves. Finally, that small bit of sky blue. I was finished painting but the piece was far from done.

After letting the paint set overnight, came the messy part. I knew I couldn’t capture the color value of the leaves through paint alone, I needed something that felt and looked more natural. I decided to go with a Hawaiian tissue paper dying method that my art mentor, Michael Zlocki, showed me. This involves submerging pieces of white tissue paper by hand into baths of dye, along with inks and oil paints, to create different palettes of colors and patterns then setting them all out to dry. After drying, the pieces are good to be used for art or whatever else I suppose. I cut the pieces into rounder shapes before I applied them on the canvas with a UV protective varnish giving it a result that is both eye-catching and beautiful. After I created the leaves from the tissue paper, I thought the piece was finished. After a few days, the papers finally set and I loved all the textures, but the piece still felt unfinished but I wasn’t sure why. My mentor suggested adding something or someone under the tree. I decided to add a young girl reading under the tree in acrylic paint which for me tied the whole piece together.

As an artist, I have a vast respect for anything that changes or challenges my perspective in life. I think that’s why I’m often drawn to writing or creating female characters. It’s a different perspective from my own. I wanted her to be reading because to me reading is a subtle way to communicate meditation. I love meditating, I believe it’s a great way for your mind to get rest. That being said, I believe there are an endless number of ways for people to practice meditation whether they are even aware of it or not. Some of the most enlightened, balanced people I’ve ever met are completely unaware they are that way, and it’s quite beautiful. I think reading is one of the most universal forms of meditation. It translates easily, mostly anyone can do it if they allow themselves, and that’s what I wanted. I wanted this painting to be easy to take in, to have it be easy to get lost in, like a good book. This piece represents those still, quiet moments of meditation where you get so lost in what you’re doing you don’t realize how long you’ve been sitting there. You feel at peace. Simply just existing for that moment. I hope to have captured those peaceful moments.

The title, for me, has a few meanings: ‘Rooted’ as in the girl sitting under the tree reading and getting lost in the book, and how the tree is literally rooted into the ground, but also how she is connecting herself to the tree and world around her. She’s building roots in the moment that will grow with her and help define who she is. It’s also an acknowledgment that we all come from the earth and we are rooted in it because it is our home.

‘Rooted’ is currently on display and for sale at the San Diego County Library in Imperial Beach as part of the ‘Deeply Rooted’ Art Exhibition until February 29th, 2024, and is open to the public, along with the rest of the exhibit, for viewing. For sale information or further details on the piece, please DM me directly.

For more of my art, please check out my Instagram: @art_by_PAZ or my Facebook Page: Art by PAZ, where I post my latest pieces, announcements for any upcoming shows, and tease artwork I’m currently working on.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed my first ever ‘Art Deep Dive’. I’m planning on doing more, so if you enjoyed deep diving with me please follow and comment your thoughts on the piece or ask me any questions about the process.

- PAZ

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Fate - Chapter 9 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

The human woman bustles about her home and gently urges us to sit.

She attempts to straighten the lace table runner laying in disarray atop the oak dinette.

When she spots the collection of debris and mud smeared into its surface, a sigh of frustration escapes her lips.

"I'm Maggie," she says in an attempt of introduction and her eyes land on the soiled lace.

Embarrassment stains her cheeks.

"Please excuse the mess. I was hoping to have things looking a bit nicer for your arrival."

She collects the dirtied cloth and glances down the deserted hallway, no doubt searching for the two men who hastily disappeared the moment we entered the cottage, one of them being the cloaked man.

I can hear the timbre of their voices from rooms away but the words are muffled, as if they're both speaking behind a wall of glass.

"C-can I offer either of you anything to eat or drink?" she tries again, gesturing to the well-worn couches.

Neither of us responds.

The silence unnerves her and she brings her hands together, wringing them again and again.

Is she nervous to be alone in our presence?

Or at the realization that the object of Reyo's obsession is now being held hostage in her living room?

Perhaps it's a combination.

She has to realize the risk of capturing me, knowing it puts a target on all their backs.

"I'll... I'll just go get a platter together, then," Maggie mutters.

"I'm sure you're both tired after... well, I'm sure you could both use a pick-me-up."

She retreats to the kitchen, leaving the stagnant emotion of angst trailing after her.

What she doesn't realize is this moment of reprieve is exactly what I need.

I angle myself towards Douglas to assess the damage from today.

Cuts and bruises paint his tanned skin like a human canvas of war.

Dried blood clings to him, his hands, his face and his clothes.

The bruise beneath his right eye is turning the color of a moldy plum.

I don't smell any fresh blood from him, though, nor do I smell the beginnings of rot from within him.

He will heal.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your fellow guards today," I offer in condolence.

"From this point forward, for as long as you are in my care, I will do all I can to protect you."

Douglas' eyes turn downcast.

"That's the same promise I made to the Secondary Guard when I was sworn in to protect you, Finn. I should have died out there today protecting you. I should have fought until my last breath."

I hum in disagreement.

"If you had died today, I would have shown no restraint sparing the others. And I'm not certain I would have stopped there. Once I allowed that demon within me to break free, he became difficult to reign in. If I had reached town in that state, innocents would have died."

I frown, feeling that dark chain connecting me with the monster inside me.

It's back to its silent, dormant state and yet I can feel a flicker of dark elation that I've allowed his existence to become known.

Allowed his power to be known.

"If that had happened," I say firmly.

"I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself. Not ever. By staying alive, Douglas, you saved me from this fate. You protected me. Your oath remains intact."

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Douglas' mouth.

"Only you would find a way to spin my human inadequacy into a strength."

"Humanity is the greatest strength there is. Don't ever question that."

Douglas huffs a trite laugh.

"Coming from the most powerful being I know."

"My only true power is having the strength to hold on to whatever shreds of humanity reside within me," I confide.

"The part of me that's vampire is dark. It's a cruel predator. Today is the first time I've truly submitted to it, to that side of me. He consumed me and you saw the result of that choice."

I shift my gaze, staring at the oak dinette.

Now bare of a runner, the natural wood bares its true form before us, riddled with beautiful chips, divots and crevices of imperfection.

"I don't know your past, Finn," Douglas consoles me.

"But I know you. Even if you're wholly vampire, there's humanity in you. There is. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Humanity doesn't exist in vampires," I argue.

"You know that."

Douglas pops his shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

"According to Mr. Primary, anyway. But he also believed vampires were pretty much extinct. Turns out, that's not true either."

His words are biting as he replays the day's destruction.

The loss. The bloodshed.

"Here we are," Maggie reappears, bringing us a bounty of food splayed across a silver platter.

It triggers a memory of living in the Fortress.

Every night, a packet of blood was delivered to my chambers on a tray similar to this.

Every night, for months.

There was never a note. Never a clue.

Overtime, Reyo confessed that it was his doing.

He explained that I needed my strength and blood was the easiest way to get it to me.

I needed to keep up appearances with the rest of the Secondary population, though.

If they witnessed me drinking only blood without the supplement of food as sustenance, they might start to wonder.

The rumors would continue to spread.

Reyo could have none of that.

Maggie offers me a metal goblet filled with blood.

Unlike the tray, this piece is weathered, with small bits of rust collecting at the bottom.

There's something nostalgic about it, to see the change forced onto its state of being beneath the pressure of Time's hand.

Something nostalgic, indeed.

"Not many humans have fresh blood like this on hand," I note aloud. I bring the cup close to my nose, breathing in the scent of human blood.

It's not tainted with the decay of Secondary blood and it is just as fresh as the blood I received in the Fortress.

It can't be more than a day old.

"And from what I've heard during my travels, purchasing such quality product is not cheap."

Accusation poisons the words, passively chiding her of whatever means she used to acquire it.

She's already guilty of assisting in plotting and capturing her sworn leader's second hand.

Stealing blood or killing to acquire it, don't seem like such far-fetched ideas.

Besides, Douglas and I are in a precarious situation and I need answers to survive.

Before today, I didn't truly believe I was in danger of being captured.

I certainly didn't believe vampires existed to this degree, either.

I need a strong, mental footing, an even playing field, to keep us safe.

Maggie loosens a breath and glances down the hallway a second time.

Douglas senses her discomfort and clears his throat, reaching for a napkin and setting a hand pie into it.

"Thank you for this," he says to Maggie, nodding his appreciation before wincing at the pain.

Her eyes follow the movement.

"I never thought things would turn out the way they did today. We hadn't planned..."

"But you knew it was a possibility," I argue.

"Why else bring in such heavy artillery for a simple capture?"

Maggie caves into herself and Douglas gives me a pleading look.

There's no hostility or anger coming from her emotions, only genuine sorrow and shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"I really am. For your losses and all that happened today. I'll go check on the others and bring you back some medical supplies."

"I really am fine," Douglas starts but she's already on her way out.

He nudges me when she's out of earshot.

"Drink it. You're going to need as much of your strength back as possible if we have any chance of escaping."

He's right.

I should be plotting our escape route instead of poking and prodding for more information.

I bring the cup to my lips and drain it of its contents.

Pairs of footsteps steadily move toward us and Douglas tenses as the two men who orchestrated our capture come to greet us... a human and the cloaked man.

[arvandus]

Hey Arv, since are very good at pacing your relationships and having them develop naturally, I was wondering if you could give me some pointers on how my two OCs might fall in love over time. This is a fantasy setting where the only means of lonv diatance communication care a magical equivalent of a telegraph btw. Here is a brief explanation of their personalities.

Character A is a cool, go-with-the-flow kind of guy. He’s an ex con man turned leader of a rock band (he plays electric guitar but its not electric its like magic you know?) and he treats his bandmates like family (a bunch of outcasts, I’m a sucker for found family lol). He is reliable and resourceful, but acts this way so that his bandmates always have someone to rely on. He feels he must keep all of his stress and negative emotions inside where they can’t bother anybody.

Character B is a badass monster hunter who specializes in sea monsters. She’s the captain of an all female crew (she wants to spite the myth that women are bad luck at sea) that hunt down sea monsters that are terrorizing sacred reefs or causing storms. She’s headstrong and fiery, always charges headfirst into battle and uses brute strength as her primary weapon. Basically your definition of strong independent woman who don’t need no man.

The two meet when Character B is knocked overboard during an encounter with a hurricane. She is washed ashore on a beach close to a marina where Character A likes to practice guitar. So he untangles her from the debris and hauls her unconscious body back to his band's hangout spot. She wakes up and goes through the "where am I?" "who are you?" phase and perhaps she tries to attack him which makes for a silly situation.

Long story short, she doesn't have a way to get home or call for help out to her crew, and the two are forced to spend lots of time together, where they eventually become close and fall in love. They part ways once her crew finds that shes alive and comes to pick her up. But Character B promises to come see Character A again when she can.

Using this very limited context (I have a whole personal wiki for this world and these characters), how can I go about pacing the relationship between these two? How might their personalities mix? i think they would both bond over being leaders of their respective groups. What do you think?

Thanks,

Anon❤️

Hi anon! Wow, this is so much info. I don’t think I have the spoons to dive deep into this for you, and really the decisions and the how-to will be up to you because no one understands your characters and the world they exist in better than you.

I think the biggest thing when it comes to getting characters to interact and develop a relationship is looking at their motivations. What are their primary goals? What are they working towards and what are they avoiding? And then constructing situations that guide them to make the choices that you want them to make based on that information. So for your female lead, she may spend the initial part trying to figure out how to contact her crew or locate them. Like if she knew the port they were heading to she might try to find a way to get there. So you’d have to create ways to impede her ability to do that so she is forced to stay where the male lead is. It could be weather, injuries, etc.

If you want her crew to come find her, then perhaps you can create a portion of the plot where the the male lead helps her get a message to her crew (connections with other artists, or songs/music that may tell her story and give clues to her location, etc.)

But yeah. Think of their motivations, their personalities, etc. think of what choices they’re going to make to allow the plot to move in a believable way and then create circumstances or events that will force them to choose to spend time together.

Best of luck, anon! It sounds like a fun story! And remember you can always go back and revise as you get a better feel for the finer details of the plot. It’s a natural part of the writing process.