#and she's powerful enough that she can break out of his visions and the traps that he lays for her

[autumnoakes]

this is not what i went off in the tags about but i would genuinely love to do a character analysis/villain breakdown of chronos in hades 2. there's something about him (and melinoë) that keep getting me thinking.

hyperfixations really will have you imagining a 2 hour video essay on some white guy video game character huh 😪

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Escaping The Woods

Request: Yes or No

Finally giving my fem!readers some crumbs

~~~

"Sam, you need to go! Now!" She had no idea where this strength came from to shout at the boy. They constantly sedated her, keeping her numb and tranquil against her will, even when they claimed it was for her own safety. They feared her, just as they feared every other student trapped below the school. She knew well that her food had been tampered with, tainted with a sedative that would keep her from fighting when they did blood tests. The sedative would kick in soon and she'd be left to sleep for hours until she awoke with the hope that Sam finally escaped. 

"But- I can't leave you!" Blood dripped down his cheek, hands and clothes stained with the blood of the guards who had tried stopping him. He'd escaped his cell, just as he had done numerous times before, but he had a chance to finally leave and never return. Her eyes watered and he swallowed, punching in numbers into the pad on her door. It clicked and she gasped softly, wide eyes watching the door slide open. At her feet lied a puddle of blood and a guard with his jaw broken clean off. 

"Sam..."

"Come with us." He pleaded softly and she spotted what he held in his hand. A small supe. A girl. Drenched in blood and sound asleep in the palm of his hand. He held her carefully, as if afraid he'd hurt her with his superstrength. "Let's get out of here."

A chance at freedom. A chance to go home and far away from the corrupt humans keeping her trapped. She swallowed and took his free hand, a wide smile breaking out on his face. He led her down the bloody, corpse-ridden corridor and held the small supe close to his chest, his legs turning corners automatically and leading them to a dead end. Her brows furrowed but then Sam released her hand and braced himself, ramming his shoulder against the wall and making the hidden door burst open. He turned back to her, panting and smiling with his floppy brown curls falling over his forehead. 

"Almost there, (Y/N). Come on!" He took her hand again and they hurried up the stairs, leaving the building and stepping out into part of campus. The fresh air hit her like a truck and she inhaled deeply, the first breath of clean air she'd taken in years. Sam ran out into the field and toward a forested area, the grass beneath her worn sneaks crunching. Real, living trees. She was back in nature. But it wasn't enough. Her hand slipped from Sam's and she collapsed on her knees with a low groan. 

"Sam," She breathed out, feeling the grass against her palms. So soft, so comforting. The grass blades grew and wrapped around her fingers, the use of her powers only straining her more. Sam stepped toward her and offered his hand again.

"It- It's okay, (Y/N). I'll carry you-"

"No, you have to go." She pushed his hand away. "I'll only slow you down. If- If they catch you, who knows what they'll do to you. Save yourself and the girl. If they come, I'll hold them back for as long as I can." 

Sam hesitated, his lips beginning to tremble with anguish and eyes flooding with tears. He nodded and wiped his tears away with the bloodied sleeve of his sweater, turning his back to her and running forward before taking a leap into the air that left a small crater behind. She watched him disappear into the night and sighed, praying to whatever higher power above to let Sam go. To let him finally live a life outside four walls. To let him find Luke and run until nobody could find either of them. 

Headlights suddenly shone behind her and she swallowed thickly, staggering up onto her weak legs. The sedative. She could feel its effects beginning to set in. Her world began to turn and twist but she couldn't let it deter her. She had to protect Sam. She had to. (Y/N) took another deep breath and tried to focus, trying to summon the last of her strength. Nature was all around her. It was her strength, her power. But her vision became blurry and her movements became sluggish. 

"Hey, you okay?" A hand grabbed her elbow and she spun around, swinging as hard and fast as she could but even then, her wrist was easily caught. Her vision grew blurrier and she stumbled right into the chest of the stranger before her legs gave out and her vision went dark. 

Jordan stared at the girl passed out on their bed, teeth anxiously chewing on their bottom lip. They recognized her. She'd ranked 8th in the Top Ten before disappearing, or per Brink's words, 'dropped out due to pressure.' Yet there she was. Weak, delirious, and in the worst state they'd ever seen another person in. Famished, dehydrated, and likely tormented. "Fuck," They cursed softly and ran a hand over their face in frustration. Maybe if they hadn't been so meek back in freshmen year, maybe if they had gotten the courage to speak with her... maybe she wouldn't have been taken. 

She groaned and their heart nearly skipped a beat, shooting up from the couch and watching her closely for signs of consciousness. (Y/N)'s head lolled from side to side, slowly rolling onto her back and carefully sitting up with her eyes cracking open. Jordan slipped into their femme form, their smaller and softer form where they wouldn't be as intimidating. She'd almost cracked their cheek the previous night when they'd been in their masc form, and they'd rather not risk it again. (Y/N) slumped back against the wall with furrowed brows, her fingers curling around the sheets and comforter. 

"Where..." Her voice sounded hoarse. Jordan quickly moved around the bed and bopped open their mini fridge, snatching the first bottle of Vought Water they saw and opening it. They returned to the bedside and held the bottle up to her cracked lips, slowly tilting the bottle so she could drink and refresh her throat. She drank the water without protest before gently pushing their hand away, wiping her wet lips and chin with the tip of her fingers and finally getting a good look at her surroundings. "Where am I?"

"You're in my dorm. I-I'm Jordan Li." Jordan licked their lips and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"Jordan? The... the freshmen that always tried sucking up to Brink?" Their skin flushed and they chuckled sheepishly, screwing the cap back on the bottle. She'd noticed them back then. Butterflies fluttered around furiously in their belly. Oh, how could she still affect them so much after three years? She tiredly rubbed her eyes and leaned forward a bit. "You look... different."

Right. She knew them before they came out and fully accepted their two forms. "Yeah, I..." They pressed their lips together and slipped into their masc form before going back to their femme form. Her brows raised and they braced themselves for a reaction that would shatter their heart. But instead, she nodded and leaned back, content with the wordless explanation. 

"Dorm.." She repeated quietly and her eyes widened, suddenly ripping the comforter off her legs and swinging them over the edge of the bed.

"Woah, woah, easy!" The bottle slipped from their hand and fell to the ground, arms shooting out to steady her before she could stumble and fall. She braced herself against the nightstand and took in short breaths, one hand gently pushing away their arm so she could stumble toward the broad window and peer out of it. She gasped sharply and jerked back. 

"I-I can't be here, Jordan." 

"I know, I know." Jordan's hands found her waist, digging their fingers into the fabric of the grey sweatpants to steady her. Her hands bunched up their jacket as she held onto them, the fear in her eyes making their heartache. 

"No, you don't know. If- If they find me, they'll take me back to The Woods and they'll wipe you so you forget about me. They hurt Sam but he's too valuable to them. I'm not. Jordan, they'll kill me." Her eyes flooded with tears and she shakily inhaled, voice trembling with each word she spoke. "They are going to kill me." 

"I won't let that happen," Jordan assured firmly. "I won't let them hurt you."

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 8 - Romance Isn't Dead

Slasher Handler Masterlist

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Bones, flashback, high anxiety/panic, violence and gore, brandon being brandon (assholery), crying, manic pixie dream ghost (assholery), MREs, descriptions of knives/multi-tools (not in use)

You can’t fucking breathe. It’s like your diaphragm is frozen and you can’t pull air into your lungs. Your vision is tunneled onto the skull in the box, the bright blue scrap of painters tape with Simon’s messy scrawl. Behind and under you, you know he’s saying something. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears.

The last expression you’d ever seen on Brandon’s face flashes before your eyes.

A big hand closes over your mouth and nose.

You flail. Before you even know you’re doing it, your elbow comes up to slam against the man behind you. The hand disappears. Using the momentum of your swing, you pitch yourself sideways. But a huge arm wraps around your waist. You’re trapped. You’re trapped. The killer is at your back and you’re trapped.

Simon’s voice cuts through the panic. “Stop squirmin’ before you hurt yourself, precious. Or I’ll make you.”

Every muscle in your body locks up. You burst into tears.

It’s awful, the way he coos at you. But when he gathers you in this arms and cradles you, you can’t help the way you cling. You’re torn between burying your face in his neck and being too terrified to close your eyes.

Images from that night at the ski lodge flash behind your eyes. Finding Stacy bleeding out from her shoulder, already too weak to stand. Your manager, propped against a wall with his guts spilled in his lap. Amber, her throat slit long before you and Brandon stumbled across her. Brandon, who’d followed you downstairs as you looked for matches and candles. The same Brandon who had been trying to convince you to share a bed with him when the power went out.

“To conserve warmth,” he’d said, with that that stupid smirk on his face as he followed you into the kitchen area.

“No, Brandon,” you’d finally hissed at him, whirling on him with a long, unlit white candle in your hand. You poked him with it as you whisper-shouted, sick of his shit. “No. No. Fucking no. What do I need to say to get you to get it? I don’t sleep with my co-workers. And even if I did, I wouldn’t sleep with you because you’re an asshole who can’t take a hint. Go find Amber if you’re so hard up. She’s actually interested in you.”

“Amber’s a slag,” Brandon said, not bothering to whisper. “What, you’re not actually fucking Riley, are you? Won’t fuck a co-worker, but you’re fine shagging a neighbor.”

“I’m not fucking Riley,” you’d snapped, still at a whisper because you weren’t about to be goaded into shouting.

“Then what’s the problem?” Brandon’d snapped right back. “Stop being so stuck up. I bought you drinks, I walked you home more than once-”

“I told you not to!”

“-I’ve brought you flowers and chocolates. I got you coffee from your favorite spot, and a pastry-”

“You think I’m interested in dating you because you picked up a danish on your way to work?” You’d wanted to pull your hair out. Wanted to wrap your hands around his throat and shake. “Brandon, I fucking hate cherries and you-! No, that’s not even the point. I’m not interested. I’ve never been interested. Leave me alone.”

His fingers closing around your upper arm, tight, had made you push him away. Not as hard as you could, just enough to startle and put some distance between you. But he’d slipped in something on the tile and fallen to his knees.

“Shit,” he’d yelped. “What the fuck? Ugh, the floor is wet. You’re lucky I didn’t break something.”

You had snorted, turned your back and picked up the matches that were laying on the counter. Lighting one, and then your candle, you’d turned back as you heard him getting up. You’d opened your mouth to say something scathing, but… “Brandon, what… is that?”

There’d been something dark and wet on his hands, his sleeve. Whatever it was, he’d slipped on more than a trickle of it, coming from under the table. And when you rounded the table, there she was. Amber, in a pink pajama set and a pool of her own blood.

Yours was the first scream of the night. Brandon’s had been the last.

And now the man that had killed both of them is petting your hair and shushing you. You gasp as you pull yourself from the flashback, teeth chattering with remembered cold. A wave of goosebumps sweeps over you. You’re very aware of the gloved hand that rubs up and down your calf.

“A couple of deep breaths now,” Simon murmurs. You can feel his lips on your forehead through the cloth of his balaclava. “Deep breath in, there you are, precious. Let it out. Slow yourself down. That’s it. There’s a good girl.”

Another memory flashes through your body. Simon’s hands holding your hips steady as you rode him, just last night. His voice smoky and soft, “Easy, easy. There’s a good girl. Let me do all the work, yeah?”

You’re wracked by another wave of sobbing.

Eventually, you tire yourself out. Your limbs are suddenly just so much dead weight. Your eyes are so sore it hurts to blink. Every hitched breath shakes your whole body. You don’t fight it when Simon makes you tip your face up so he can see how puffy and red your face is. Only let out a shaky breath when he lifts the bottom of his mask just enough to let him taste the tears on your face.

“That was the worst night of my life,” you rasp.

Simon hums at that. “Worse than the hospital?”

“I thought I could trust you,” you say. You sniffle, then continue. “I knew you weren’t safe. But I thought I could trust you.”

“Can’t you?”

You think about that for a long moment. Have to concede, “Don’t think you’ve ever actually lied to me. Well… you lied about your name. Fae rules.”

He chuckles at that. “Callin’ me a fairy?”

“Equal opportunity serial killer,” you murmur. If you weren’t so tired, it might have been funny. Right now, it feels like the words are all that carry you from one moment to the next.

“Cute.”

He lets you sit in his lap for a little while longer. It reminds you of being locked in his apartment that first week after the lodge. You’d sobbed yourself empty so many times. Felt hollowed out just like this. You’re going to need water, soon.

Finally, you put your feet on the ground, so you’re perched on Simon’s knee. He lifts a water bottle to your mouth, tips a mouthful at a time for you until you feel ready to hold it yourself. When you look at him, the skull is less menacing than in your memories. But his eyes are just as cold and dead.

“You’re fucked up,” you say to him. “You know that?”

The way his eyes crinkle at the edges means he’s genuinely grinning. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“That’s good, clever girl. Can you tell what I’m thinking?”

You shrug. “Any time I try, I get it wrong. So tell me.”

“I’m thinking,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheekbone. “That you have eleven minutes left.”

Everything in your body freezes. “What?”

“Haven’t found the key,” he says, kissing your cheek again before pulling his mask back down. “Clock’s still ticking until you’re out of the cuffs.”

The urge to burst into tears again wars with the urge to scream. You take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out slow. “Why are you like this?”

“Probably all the trauma,” he drawls. His hands lift you to stand and he pats your ass. “G’won then. Key’s in the box. You have plenty of time.”

Looking back at Brandon’s skull makes you feel ill. “Can I have the key you have?”

“Too late for that, precious. Don’t have enough time left to trade.”

“You fucking fucker,” you mutter around a hitching breath. A few deep breaths and you make yourself look at the skull again. Try to look at it as an object, a pile of shapes, not the remains of a person.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to step closer to the box. But you do. And you realize that the skull is on top of something. Cloth is folded up under it. On the left side of the box is a small, black hard case. You step over to that side, crouch down to pick the box up. Avoid the profile of the skull as much as possible. It has simple clasps. You take a deep breath and hold it before you open it.

Inside, surrounded by foam lining, are what look like three folding knives.

“It’s not in there,” Simon tells you. “Once the timer stops, you’ll have plenty of time for those.”

You don’t bother to answer, just put the case down next to you on the ground. The only other option for looking for the key is to move the cloth and, by extension, the skull. You clench your hand into a nervous fist, take a deep breath, and let it out. The cloth, when you touch it, is stiff. A gentle tug wiggles the skull a in place, just a bit.

You put your hands on the edge of the box and close your eyes for another few deep breaths. Fight the urge to vomit. Try to think.

Simon put it there to get a reaction out of you. Labeled it so you’d panic and cry. He knows you, so he probably knew you’d have to interact with the skull with a time limit. The key is in the box, somewhere, under all of that cloth and the skull.

The key… is under the skull.

Before you can let the nausea set in, you open you eyes and reach out to poke the skull hard with one finger. It tips, the bulk of it falling away from the jaw. And there’s the key, taped to the palate. A tiny metal cylinder, just like the one around Simon’s neck.

Even though you know the answer, you ask, “Do I have to touch it?”

Simon, of course, doesn’t say anything. You tug the cloth closer to yourself so you don’t have to reach too far and lay your fingers on the cheekbone. It’s cold, solid, and dry. You’re not sure why you expected different. You use your thumb to pick at the tape, focusing on that and nothing else. It comes away remarkably easily. The key falls from its spot with a soft clack against a tooth and lands on the cloth.

Unlocking your cuffs feels anticlimactic after all of that.

“Three minutes to spare,” Simon says. He sounds impressed.

You sniffle a bit as you rub your wrists. “New personal record.”

“You did yourself proud, Precious.”

The truth bubbles out of you before you can think better of it. “I can’t think of a reason not to hate you right now.”

“That’s because you’ve got some sense in your head,” Simon says. He stands, turns his back to you to go to the table. He picks up two of the MREs, reads off, “Chili with Beans or Mexican Rice and Bean Bowl?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Gotta eat more than crackers,” he says. “Might as well have some while I tell you about the rest of our little adventure together. Come sit at the table.”

You stand, look at his back where he’s picking grapes from the bag. “What’s outside the door?”

“The not-so-safe zone,” Simon says, without turning. “You go out that door, the next part of the game starts.”

Hunting trip three-point-oh. You sigh and walk across the mattress to the chair at the table. “Mexican rice, please.”

He passes it over. “Good choice.”

He’s quiet while you reacquaint yourself with the heating element and examine the rest of the package. He opens his own MRE and cracks open a bottle of water, offers it to you first. You use it to start the heating process, watch him do the same.

“So,” you huff, crossing your arms. There are a few minutes until the food will be hot. “What’s the next part of the game?”

“We’re gonna play a bit of capture the flag,” he says. “You ever been paintballing?”

You stare at him, jaw dropped. A headache starts to form under your left temple. “Have you lost your mind?”

It’s not often that Simon looks affronted. “Paintball is fun.”

You can’t help the disbelieving laughter. “Then why didn’t you take me to paintball?”

“Gotta train you on gun safety first,” he points out. “And most places make you play on teams.”

“And the guns aren’t real,” you counter. “That’s the real reason, right?”

He shrugs, “I prefer knives. But yeah, I’d want you to have something real.”

That reminds you. “What are the knives for?”

Simon goes to retrieve the little carrying case, snags his chair on the way back. He places the box on the table, turns it toward you and opens it. He picks up the leftmost blade and flicks it open with a quick motion. He hands it to you, black handle first as he takes a seat.

The handle is thick and the whole thing is a bit heavy. You turn it in your hand and realize that it’s a multi-tool.

“This is a Leatherman Free K4,” he says. “Decent multi-tool, lots of uses. How does it feel in your hand?”

How are you supposed to know? “Fine? It’s a knife.”

“Show me you can close the blade?”

You find the mechanism pretty easily, close the knife without incident. Simon nods, presents his hand, so you give him the knife back. He fiddles with it for a moment, and out pop a pair of scissors. And he hands it back.

“This one,” Simon calls your attention to the second item. It has a black handle as well, but the frame is open so you can actually see the tools. “is a Leatherman Skeletool CX.”

It’s impossible for you not to poke around. There are 8 little tools attached the the knife, including the scissors. A few you don’t really understand, but there are three separate screwdrivers and a bottle opener. You can think of a few times in the last couple of years a multi-tool like this could have come in handy.

You snort. “Skeletool?”

“Hush,” he chides you, smile audible in his voice as he hands it over. “This one has pliers, and a few other tools the other one doesn’t. Shorter blade, a bit lighter.”

“I can kind of feel the difference?” you offer.

“Don’t worry too much about it. Open and close it.”

You do. Pliers first, because you can. Then the blade. “Cool.”

He hands you the last one, a tiny thing that’s all silver, as he takes the second from your hand. “This one is the Skeletool KBX.”

You flick it open and closed without him asking. “Itty bitty.”

“That one’s very straightforward. Just the blade and a bottle opener on the handle.”

You pick up the little package of pretzel nuggets that came with your meal and cut into it. The plastic splits like butter. “Dangerous.”

“I dunno,” you admit. “I haven’t used them yet. You gonna tell me what they’re for?”

Simon hums, a noise you secretly have categorized as one of his “happy tiger” noises. You look up to see he’s got those eye wrinkles that mean he’s pleased. He’s looking at the little blade in your hand.

“Do you like them?”

“They’re gifts,” he says. “One for your usual purse, one for your backpack. The little one for the next time you want to go out dancing. After lunch, I’ll show you how to hold them.”

Staring at him, you think that you’d call the way his shoulders come up toward his ears bashful if he was anyone else. “Did you get me romance knives?”

“Skull’s got me in the doghouse,” he mutters, picking up his now-hot food. “Gotta give you something nice to balance it out.”

“Drugging and kidnapping me got you in the doghouse,” you correct him. “The skull has you under it.”

“I’ve got experience digging myself out,” Simon says with a shrug. “Eat.”

You grab your food and start extracting it from the heat pack. “You want to get back into my good graces? Tell me what the fuck happened in 2007. What the fuck does Roba mean?”

Simon chuckles. “That’s not a story you want to hear while you’re eating, sweet thing.”

“You made me touch Brandon’s skull,” you point out as you tear the packaging open. The smell of hot food makes you suddenly aware of how hungry you are. “So you had better start talking.”

“Promise I’ll tell you more when we’re home, Precious.”

“Swear it.”

“Cross my heart,” he says, flat blue eyes staring into yours. “Hope to die.”

“The whole story.”

“Promise you a summary that won’t make you vomit more than once,” he offers. “And I’ll rub your feet.”

You scoop a spoonful of rice and pop it in your mouth. “You’re going to rub my feet regardless.”

Simon gives a dry little laugh as he pushes his mask up over his mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Now eat. I’ll tell you the rules of capture the flag.”

[separatist-apologist]

We Could Call It Even

Summary: Newly made and terrified, Elain Archeron's human fiance tells her of a creature that could turn her back and keep them together and Elain will stop at nothing to make rumor a reality.

There is no force that can undo fate. No magic that can unmake a mating bond. And Lucien Vanserra isn't about to let his mate throw herself in the path of certain death on a fools hope. Lucien will be forced, instead, to watch her love another man for eighty brutal, miserable years.

While Elain Archeron will have to contend with a life she hoped to never live…and a mate she never wanted.

Thank you @shadowisles-writes for the moodboard!!

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

-

“Return to me quickly,” Graysen told her that morning, wrapping a wool cloak around her shoulders. “Return to me human.”

“And…” Elain’s bottom lip trembled as she swallowed her fear, “And if I don’t?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he replied, clearly convinced this was going to work. Elain, though…she was uneasy as she set out. She left in the dead of night to cross back over into Prythian. The closer she got, the more her magic stirred in her chest, crowding against the edges of her vision. 

She shoved it down. It wasn’t natural, she reminded herself. Wrong. She wasn’t faerie, she was simply a human trapped in faerie skin. Like the old stories where faerie magic could trap a child if they weren’t careful or a bargain was worded poorly. She simply needed to break the spell.

True love wasn’t enough, though in the stories it always was. Elain found herself frustrated when she couldn’t keep the magic at bay, her knees sinking to the snow as she crossed the border into Prythian.

Her visions had always been chaotic and half-formed. Disjointed, she supposed. With her forehead pressed to the cold ground, Elain groaned, trying—and failing—to banish what now burst brightly behind her eyes. 

Autumn leaves burning, smoke curling like shadow toward a darkened sky. A ruined, burnished crown clattering to white marble floors. Spring blooms bursting through the ground, the petals opening as rain cascaded from the sky. A night sky, alive with vivid lights dancing across an otherwise empty space. 

Elain gasped. “I hate you,” she whispered, unclear if she was talking to herself or the powers that coursed through her. She’d clenched her jaw so tightly she tasted the coppery tang of blood and her fingers had curled into the frozen ground, causing several of her nails to break. 

It was fine, she told herself, though in truth it wasn’t. Blood oozed over one of her nail beds, dripping three bright red spots over the stained, gray snow still gathered beneath a shady spot. It reminded her of gardening, a hobby she’d promised to give up once she was married. Graysen said he didn’t want a wife with dirt under her nails.

Back before the cauldron, she’d hoped to reason with him. Now, though, it seemed a fair compromise. He’d get an immortal wife that would almost certainly cause them to be shunned from society. And besides, she’d still have a say in the grounds. She could design it, plan it…just not execute her vision.

Graysen expected her to journey on foot to Night Court where she’d board a ship. No human ship would take her toward the faerie held territories, which meant Elain had to make her way back to the one place she’d hoped to never step foot again. It meant using more of the magic she hated. Feyre had once tried to show her and Nesta how to winnow. Nesta had refused the lesson outright but Elain, afraid she’d lose the last place she could stay if she refused, did the lessons. 

Screwing up her face, nose wrinkled, Elain called on the well of magic bubbling in her stomach. It made her want to vomit when she felt the edges of the world press in on her, constricting her breath. It was only a moment, dumping her just on the outskirt of Velaris, but enough to elicit a soft sob from her throat.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was unfair. 

Elain wanted to rage at the few people lumbering down the street, awake despite the glittering stars overhead. Didn’t anyone care? It was as if nothing had happened. She knew they all wanted her to just get over it. Was that what Feyre had done when she’d turned? Elain wracked her brain for the memory of how Feyre became fae, but it eluded her. Elain simply didn’t care how Feyre had handled the loss of her humanity.

Feyre had likely celebrated, Elain concluded as she marched her way down the sloping road to the harbor. She’d probably been overjoyed to shed her old skin and take up the mantle of power and beauty. It suited Feyre so well, which only angered Elain more. Where was Feyre’s grief? The years of life stripped away in favor of binding her to a man she barely knew and was so old, he’d participated in the first war against the humans? 

Elain’s fingers curled to fists, feet stomping on the cobblestone. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see the figure overing at the waters edge where stone met wood.

“Going somewhere?”

That voice clanged through her, bringing with it a veritable rising tide of emotions. Yearning. Hatred. Desire. Loathing. Elain whirled just as Lucien Vanserra, Seventh Son of Autumn, lowered the hood of his cloak. His expression was cool, arms crossed over his chest and legs spread a shoulders width apart.

She tried to shove wordlessly past him, but he used his body to block her.

“Move,” she ordered.

He didn’t.

“Turn around and go home,” he said instead, nodding his head in the direction behind her.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she whispered, her body trembling as she faced him. The wind dragged the soft, masculine scent of him directly to her and every inhuman part of her wanted him.

Elain had never hated herself more. Shame welled up in her—this was a betrayal to her engagement, to the man she’d left behind. She wasn’t supposed to want someone else. 

Lucien cocked his head, oblivious to the slant of her thoughts. Was this his poor attempt at flirting? Or worse, had he somehow known she was coming and intended to drag her off until she was so beaten down she agreed to whatever nefarious plans he had? 

“Let me guess…you think you can make a bargain with a death god in exchange for your humanity?” he whispered, banishing Elain’s shame in favor of pure, undiluted fear.

“How—no—he’s not…he’s a—”

“There is no such thing as benevolence in this land, Elain,” Lucien ground out, looking as if he hated her. Perhaps he did, though that bothered her, too. He wasn’t allowed to hate her—only she could hate him. 

“You don’t know everything—”

“And you don’t know anything,” he shot back, his contempt dripping from his words. “You’re a child fumbling about in the dark, content to damn us all if she can live out a fantasy—”

Elain slapped him. She hadn’t even thought about it. Her outrage had simply consumed her and she’d decided to hit him a split second before she did. Lucien staggered back a step, his fingers grazing his cheek as that golden eye held her wholly in place.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You are nobody. You have no home, your family hates you, and your friends would discard you the moment you’re no longer useful to them. Don’t presume you can stand there like an authority and speak down to me.”

Lucien’s brown cheeks went ashen at her words. 

“You might be right,” he told her, drawing himself to his full height. He was tall, she realized. And fae. Unlike Feyre’s mate and his friends, with their short hair and rounded ears, Lucien looked so very faerie with that magical eye and his long, auburn hair half braided off a face that had once been handsome before he’d ruined it. 

“Get out of my way—”

“I may be all the things you say, Elain, but at least I am not so spoiled, so selfish that I’d risk the lives of everyone so I might be happy.”

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to be happy? I’ve never been given a choice—”

“You’re exercising your choice right now!” he shot back, his voice drowning hers out. “No one stopped you from hiding away with a human. One bad thing happened to you, and now you think you’re owed far more than you’ve ever given.”

“You don’t know me,” she whispered.”

“I don’t want to know you,” he replied, his own voice shaking. “Elain, from Feyre’s stories. Too spoiled and self-absorbed to care if her sister was starving, too. If she was safe, if she was happy, if she had anything comforting. She did one helpful thing once, and thinks it makes her some kind of saint.”

Elain could feel the tears gathering in her eyes. “You let Feyre die.”

“You did so first. I heard, when Tamlin came to collect her, that you hid behind your father and your sister. When a faerie general demanded I tell her Feyre’s name, I kneeled silently and let her torture me. I saved her life in the first trial. You let a faerie take her in the night. Don’t mistake us as equals, Elain.”

“We had no choice—”

“How very convenient,” he sneered. “Is that you have no choice, or you simply refuse to acknowledge your own agency?”

“This is why you remain alone, you know,” she said, wanting to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt her. She wanted to scar Lucien emotionally for daring to say the things she only ever privately thought. “And you can defend Feyre all you like, but if I went to her and showed her what you said, she would never forgive you.”

“I don’t care. Give me the ticket.” He held out his hand.

“I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead. Scream as loud as you like. Let the authorities come and take us both before Rhysand.”

Elain’s stomach bottomed out. “Please—”

“Give me the ticket.”

“You don’t understand—”

“The ticket—”

“I love him!” she cried, the tears she’d been holding back finally spilling like a dam. “Can’t you understand that? Or are you so cold you’ve never once experienced love. I will be careful how I word it, I’ll—”

“He’s a death god,” Luicen repeated, a strange, almost sad look crossing over his features before they hardened back into ice. “He’s not required to honor his bargains and you are not clever enough to beat him on your own.”

A horrible, cruel idea was forming in her head. “Come with me, then—”

“No.”

Lucien spoke the word flatly, devoid of all the hatred that had spilled from him before. Now there was simply nothing, as if his soul had left his body and all that remained was a creature that could do nothing but deny her passage. 

“He could break the bond.”

“Nothing can break the bond,” Lucien informed her in that same, soulless voice. “The Mother made it, and only she could unmake it. Just as nothing can unmake you—your human form is gone, burned away by death. If you beg the death god to free you of your faerie form, there will be nothing left of you but ash.”

“How do you know?” she demanded, wanting him to yell at her again. Anything but whatever this was. 

“I was there,” he whispered, shadow flickering over his russet eye. “He is a god, bound to the land as punishment for a crime lost to time. It wasn’t written down because we had no language, were still creatures running on four legs. Humans were mere thoughts, beasts more accustomed to the seas than to land. To think you could outsmart him is folly and foolishness. Turn around and go back to your home, Elain. Put this idea out of your mind.”

“I promised,” she half wailed, despair replacing her anger. “If I go back—”

Lucien cocked his head, some of that fire flickering back to life. “Yes?”

She pulled the ticket from her pocket and slammed it roughly into his chest. He didn’t move, fingers brushing hers as he took it before it fluttered between them.

“Even if he didn’t want me, I would never want you.”

His lip curled over his teeth. “How very fortunate for me.”

She knew it was a lie. Feyre had told her the men felt the mating bond far more strongly than women, and rejecting it often made them insane. It was tempting to break the bond right then and there and prove Lucien right. He’d accused her of being spoiled and selfish, caring only about herself. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she was vindictive, too.

But Elain was suddenly tired and a little afraid. Anxious, too, that Graysen was going to change his mind when she told him there was no bargain to be made. Suddenly Lucien didn’t matter. The fight had simply gone out of her, blinked out like the stars overhead. The sky, once inky black, had lightened to a pale violet. At any moment, the sun would fully break and the world would see her for what she was.

And she was terrified Lucien was right about her. Every accusation he’d made against her was true. She hadn’t cared, though she had known Feyre was allowing herself to be the martyr if she and Nesta were happy.

And she had hidden, hadn’t thought even once to suggest herself in place of Feyre. She’d just wanted that creature to leave, and if that meant Feyre had to leave with him, well, so be it. Knowing that Feyre had told him that, when Feyre had only ever told her such kind things about Lucien, brought back more of the shame from before. 

“None of this would have happened if you’d stood up to your High Lord,” Elain whispered, holding his gaze. Lucien’s mouth went slack and right then, she knew she’d wounded him just as thoroughly as he’d wounded her. “I may be spoiled, but you're a coward. You did this to me. I will never forgive you for it.”

She turned, then, needing to get far, far away. Elain only dared to look over her shoulder once, but Lucien was gone. Had he ever been there? The ticket was gone from her pocket, but all that remained was the tell-tale racing of her heart. She didn’t know what to do with herself, but she knew she couldn’t stay in Prythian. Feyre would learn she’d been here, if Lucien hadn’t already raced off to tattle on her.

Elain winnowed again, dumping herself with a sob on the border between Spring and the wall. Curling her knees against her chest, fingers balled into fists and pressed against her chest, she sobbed like a wounded animal. It was unfair. Nothing was as it should be. Was it selfish to simply want? Spoiled to hope for something? 

She hadn’t thrust them into poverty.

She hadn’t done anything. Lucien didn’t know anything. He was living his same life, marred only by her presence. She doubted he’d been thrilled to learn they were mates and now he was punishing her for it. Elain decided to discard his words, wiping her eyes on the edge of her sleeve. 

Elain couldn’t go back that night. She needed Graysen to believe she’d at least tried. Instead, once she felt like she could walk away, Elain stumbled through the familiar woods of the village she’d once resided in for the cottage that now rotted on the very edge. The door had been replaced, propped up to keep animals out. 

Elain stepped inside, shivering violently at the memories that came flooding back. She’d been happy here, somehow. No one else had been—Feyre and Nesta would rather have died than return. But Elain remembered how they used to sleep in that too-soft bed, jostling for blankets and space when it got cold. 

She remembered how she’d curl up around Nesta, who seemed to radiate warmth even when she was bone thin and hungry, or how, when Feyre had gotten sick, she’d slept on her back so Feyre could rest her head against Elain’s shoulder. Her younger sister had still sucked her thumb back then, whimpering softly for their mother who’d been dead for years.

Before, in the giant estate, Nesta had been consumed by her lessons and Feyre had taken to all but living in the trees, wilder than an animal. Elain had felt so isolated, trying—and often failing—to find friends that filled the gnawing void in her chest. Those friends had vanished along with the wealth, but Feyre and Nesta had remained.

They’d been her only friends for years and Elain had clung to it, in her way. Perhaps she’d done it badly, selfishly. Perhaps it was spoiled to wish nothing had ever changed. Maybe Lucien was right about her, but that didn’t mean he understood why. He didn’t know her at all, only what he believed because she hadn’t fallen into his arms.

Maybe she was spoiled and selfish, but at least she wasn’t mean. She wasn’t bitter. Lucien could only see the ugliness but standing in that cottage, Elain could still see the beauty of it all. The hope, the joy, the love. And maybe she was simply more human than she wasn’t. Humans were all the things he’d spat at her. Was she supposed to be ashamed?

Elain sighed, making her way to that one room where the bed remained. The window was still in tact, keeping the elements away. Everything looked exactly as it had been, though somehow less bright. In her memory it was all so beautiful, but here in the early morning light, it was dull. Empty.

Ordinary.

There was nothing special about any of it. For some reason, that was the biggest disappointment of the day. Elain sat on the edge of the bed, kicking up a cloud of dust that settled in her lap like fallen stars. She decided to stay for the night before trudging back to Gray and hoping he understood why she couldn’t go.

More than anything, Elain was terrified he was going to change his mind once he realized the only life available to them was one of tragedy. She wouldn’t age—but he would. They’d likely never have kids given how difficult it was for the fae to conceive. He’d be shunned from society for his choice, forced to live as an outsider.

She almost didn’t blame him if he decided she wasn’t worth the hassle.

But to Elain, it was worth it. Even if it meant watching him grow old and die—at least they’d have the time together. 

Elain ate from the rations in her little bag before curling up on the bed. It was too early to sleep, but with nothing else to do, she drifted in and out. When she couldn’t, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to banish Lucien’s voice from her head. He had no right, she decided, to say those things about her.

To her.

Night was worse—the wind howled, rattling the thin glass in the rotting wooden frame. Animals clawed at the structure before the world fell eerily silent. She supposed it was like that—the darkness was at its zenith, scaring even the wind itself. It didn’t stop her from feeling as if she was being watched. 

The dawn broke, bringing with it the realization that she’d made her choice, had burned all the bridges she might one day need to return. There was nowhere to go but back home. Elain set out, bones aching from her restless sleep, mind racing with all the possibilities of what might be waiting for her. 

It was nearly noon by the time she reached the fortress. The doors were opened to her immediately, and the sentry waiting just inside greeted her with a nervous smile. The staff was growing accustomed to her presence, their wariness often replaced with a pitying smile. It was better, she supposed, though Elain wasn’t certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life being pitied, either.

Graysen was up, dressed in his fine breeches and a rather nice blue and black jacket. He paused in the stone hall when he saw her, shadows half obscuring his face. “You’re back,” he exclaimed, eyes falling on her pointed ears. “You’re back early.”

“I can’t go,” she whispered, deciding she would just lie. She’d intended to tell him the truth, but fear gripped her heart. “When the captain learned, he…he said it was an ill omen to travel to a death god—”

“Not a death god,” Graysen interrupted, but Elain knew Lucien was right. Damn him all the same, but he was right.

“Yes, Gray. A death god,” she repeated gently. “He turned me away.”

“Then we’ll lie—”

“They can read minds, remember?” she said, telling yet another lie. He didn’t know it wasn't entirely true, though. Graysen’s face fell as he walked to her, skimming his fingers over her arms.

“What happened to you is an injustice. Is there no recourse, then? They’re just allowed to harm you and I have to sit here and make my peace with it?”

His concern was a balm for her wounded feelings. “I’m alive, at least.”

“That you are,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Still, there was a tightness to his features she didn’t like. He’d been too hopeful and now they were dashed, ruined and wilted. 

“Are you reconsidering?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “We will continue with the wedding.”

Elain sighed, relief replacing the heavy weight of fear. She could still have the life she wanted. 

And maybe, someday, she’d find something to restore her humanity.

Lucien Vanserra be damned.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Nice While it Lasted

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn

A/N: Manga readers.... I... I'm so sorry for this chapter.

Read Full on AO3

[excerpt]

Tomura Shigaraki didn’t dream.

Or at least, he didn’t consider the series of thoughts, images, and sensations that he experienced in his rare stints with sleep to be dreams. Dreams in his mind were fantasies. Visions of a hopeful future or irrational exercises in imagination. Dreams were nonsensical, removed from corporeality and truth. The things that happened in dreams weren’t real.

This is not what Shigaraki experienced when he slept.  

While the flashes in his mind always felt nonsensical at the time, coming in and out of his mind in orderless bits and pieces like a corrupted stream, whenever he came to his senses, he was always able to sort them out. He knew that they weren’t his imagination. These were memories, things that truly happened to him. Even if they didn’t stick with him for long after, he knew that much. Everything he saw when he slept was a horrible, undeniable truth.

Which is why when he shot up in bed around three in the morning with visions of her fresh on his mind he felt particularly unsettled.

He wasn’t sure where they were exactly, somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere endless. The light around them was too blindingly bright to see it clearly. A city sidewalk maybe, he could faintly recognize the hum of conversation and commuters walking past him in all directions, minding their own business.

They stood facing each other, a considerable distance between them, just staring. She wore an expression that should’ve comforted him (and in many cases had) a small smile and a soft, relaxed gaze. She looked content, completely satisfied with everything around them. 

But it unnerved him here, considering the fact that she was just watching him, ragged, desperate and tearing at his own throat with reckless abandon in the middle of the street. She should’ve been horrified by the sight, worried about him. She always had been, even in the beginning of all this, she never wanted to see him hurt.

So why did she look so happy watching it now?

“You told me everything. Gave up everything,” she repeated words he didn’t recall saying, “No… More like that creepy Sensei gave up on you, right?”

He couldn’t speak anymore, didn’t know if ever could actually. His voice was gone, trapped by a burning closure in his throat. He couldn’t even nod. All he could do was stare at her, stuck in a shell-shocked muck of despair.

“You have nothing…” she clapped her hands together happily, “ Finally, you have nothing!”

He couldn’t breathe. The weight of the world, of her horrible joy crashing down around him was too heavy. 

“Oh come on… Don’t look at me like that,” she tilted her head, a taunting little pout on her lips, “There’s no way this can be a surprise. After everything you did to me, did you honestly think that I’d forgive you? That I’d love you?”

The completely shattered expression on his face was answer enough. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What an idiot…”

Finally, horribly, she started walking towards him.

“It’s a shitty feeling isn’t it? Having nothing. You’ve felt it before. I’ve felt it…” 

She planted her hands on his shoulders, tight. Painfully tight, like they were breaking him to pieces.

“And you deserve to feel that way for the rest of your life.”

He wasn’t imagining the pain. It was a searing, cracking feeling surging through his muscles and neck, his joints and very being. He snapped down to look at his shoulders as it intensified, as he began to crack and crumble under her fingers, his entire body decaying away into dust. It hurt and it emptied him, which only served to destroy him further, faster. The feeling of having nothing, of turning into nothing, all while she stood smiling in front of him, happy he was gone. And as his eyes started to go, he could see everyone around them suddenly stop to stare at him, to watch the wind sweep his remains up away into the blinding, parting clouds above.

They were happy to see him disappear too.

Before the last of him faded away was when he finally woke up, body lurching forward, sending the game controller abandoned on his chest clattering onto the floor. 

Lit only by the Game Over screen of whatever he’d fallen asleep playing, he couldn’t remember. It didn’t ultimately matter. Right now all that mattered was the tightness in his chest, the burning in his lungs as he gasped for breath like he hadn’t taken one in hours. It certainly felt like he hadn’t. He definitely hadn’t breathed that entire dream.

No… Not a dream, he reminded himself. After all, Tomura Shigaraki didn’t dream. In his sleep, he only ever saw the truth — horrible and desolate as it was. But this was strange. That interaction between them, he knew that it wasn’t something that had happened between them before.

Which meant it was going to happen in the future.

Continue on AO3

[oliversrarebooks]

Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

tw: forced drugging, restraints, medical whump, forced brain surgery, implied mind control, stun weapon

It was like hitting a brick wall.

One minute, Toshiro was slamming into henchman after henchman, taking them out at a speed faster than the human mind could comprehend. The next minute, his face was rapidly meeting the floor.

His ears were ringing, his vision blurring as his eyes threatened to close on him. His muscles were weak, and it was if someone had pulled the plug on the nerves connecting his brain to his body. The tile floor was cold against his cheek as he fell to the floor with an embarrassing thump, as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and equally able to move.

Some kind of stun gun. Stunning... thing. Vibrations. His newly fogged mind tried to reason through the situation. He was in the middle of Dr. Moon's lair, and although he'd cut a wide swath through her armored goons and lab interns, he hadn't spotted the good doctor herself yet. 

Which meant that this was probably all a trap, and he had obligingly raced into it at top speed.

Fuck. Whatever that weapon was had rendered him helpless. Unless he could recover quickly, he'd be screwed.

He struggled to regain his bearings through the dizziness, managing to force his weakened arms to push him up off the floor, when the low, strong vibrations racked his body again and knocked his tenuous grasp on control far away.

"Well, now, I'd call that experiment a rousing success," said a familiar and infuriatingly smug voice. 

Toshiro struggled to focus on the clean white sneakers that stepped in front of his face. Dr. Moon crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and directing his blurred gaze into hers. 

"Did you enjoy it as well?"

"Fffff..." Toshiro tried to get his mouth to cooperate enough to at least tell her to fuck off.

"Fantastic? Fabulous? Is that what you're trying to say? I think that's what you're trying to say," she said, nonchalantly snapping thick metal restraints on Toshiro's wrists. 

Oh, this situation was getting better and better, wasn't it? He could probably use his supersonic vibration to break these cuffs, but it would take some time, and that was at full power, which he most certainly was not. He was still stunned enough that he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands now, my dear little hero," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Katie, can you get my guest his little party favor?"

A young woman in a lab coat looked confused by the request. "Party favor...?"

Dr. Moon sighed. "The IV. I'm talking about the IV I had you prepare."

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Right away, doctor."

"And let's make him more comfortable! Can two of you get him onto the surgical table?"

"Yes, doctor."

IV drugs? Surgical table? Toshiro's blood ran cold. What the hell was she planning? Her experiments had roughed him up many a time, but she'd never done anything like this. 

"Whaaaa..." he slurred pathetically, flopping like a dead fish as a couple of henchmen lifted him onto a padded table. He was still too numb and dazed to fight, and his window of escape seemed to rapidly be coming to a close. As a couple of scrawny scientists effortlessly held him down on the table -- humiliating enough that his embarrassment fought with his growing fear -- Katie returned with a large bag of translucent blue liquid on an IV pole.

"Oh, you're going to just love this, Toshiro," Dr. Moon said, brandishing the IV line's needle with theatrical flair. "You never get enough breaks, do you? I'm about to give you a nice long one."

Toshiro couldn't help his composure breaking slightly. It was one thing to be injured while fighting, or even to be captured and tortured. It was another thing entirely to be rendered unconscious, completely defenseless against whatever the mad scientist wanted to do with him.

"No need to look so upset. This won't hurt at all. You're just going to get very, very sleepy. You'll be just a bit drowsy and slow for the next, oh, let's say the next while. I wouldn't operate any heavy machinery."

She was bringing that IV needle closer to his elbow. He summoned all of his strength to try and pull away, knowing that as soon as he had that drug pumping into his body, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, his muscles were still largely unresponsive from the double stun just a few minutes ago.

Damn it, he had to -- !

The doctor effortlessly got the IV into his vein with a practiced hand, taping it down securely. He looked on in horror as the light blue liquid snaked down the tube and into his arm, willing the drug to somehow stop before it reached him. His arm felt cold and heavy at the injection site as the sedative began to flow freely into his system.

"That should kick in long before you get your bearings from my wonderful stun weapon," she said, stroking his cheek and looking down at him with malicious glee. "And I want to drink every last drop of your fear as you go under."

Toshiro glared as best as he could, testing his powers. Maybe if he could get his supersonic speed working, he could dislodge the IV from his elbow before he absorbed too much of the drug. His fast metabolism meant it took a lot to put him down, anyway.

He was already so groggy from being stunned, and so focused on forcing his uncooperative body to move, that he didn't even notice the buzzing in the back of his skull until it was too late. In seconds, the buzzing transformed into a deep drowsiness, muffling his thoughts like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow, draining him of energy, making his eyelids droop.

"And there it is!" said Dr. Moon with a cackle. "Isn't that the most delicious feeling of helplessness? You look so tired already. Don't fight it, now. Just let my beautiful drugs sing you to sleep. A nice little lullaby..."

Toshiro's efforts to try to shake the IV off had turned into a desperate struggle against the urge to give in and go to sleep. He was so exhausted, and he could feel his mind zoning in and out, his eyelids threatening to close. But he couldn't give in. 

"Don't worry, you'll be sedated, but not entirely unconscious. We can't have you fully under for brain surgery, you know."

The shock of adrenaline forced his eyes back open. Fuck. Anything but that.

"No need to panic, it's not a lobotomy. We don't use ugly words like that here. And my methods are far more precise," she said, as Toshiro's heart raced. "I'm just going to... slow you down. Make you more malleable. Easily influenced, let's say. And at only a small cost to your intelligence."

His half-asleep mind woke up enough to panic. Suddenly, he could move. He felt strength in his arm again, enough strength to try and shake free of the IV line that would be the end of him.

He had to get it out at any cost. If he didn't, when he next woke up, he might be some stupefied henchman to his archnemesis, his faculties cut out and left on the floor of her lair. A fate far worse than death -- at least in death, he'd be remembered as a hero. Not remembered as a drooling, dull-witted minion who used to be a hero, cut down by one of his former comrades.

No, he couldn't allow that.

His powers responded, and he willed his super speed to vibrate his arm hard enough to loosen the tape, to dislodge the needle. As soon as he got rid of the threat of the drug, he could break free of the bonds and escape.

"Oh, dear," said Dr. Moon. "Katie, be a dear and take the fight out of our guest again."

Toshiro's eyes widened just before he felt the stun weapon rumble through his body. His hold over his power slipped, his limbs sinking back onto the table. Disoriented and unable to move, the sedative quickly took hold of him once again.

"There, there." The doctor replaced the tape on the IV line. "Just relax, go to sleep, and it will all be over soon. Poor, helpless hero."

He groaned weakly, Dr. Moon's evil grin fading from sight as his vision tunneled.

"He's almost out. Finish preparation in the operating room," she said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "If all goes well, you won't be waking up as yourself ever again," she cooed. "You're going to go to sleep, and I'm going to win."

Her voice sounded muffled, from far away, and his tongue was too thick and clumsy to respond back.

"Go to sleep. Just go to sleep..."

----

I've been struggling a bit with writing and the Febuwhump prompts looked delicious, so I decided to do a few of them!

New Bookseller chapter soon, promise.

[lilith-little-world]

Hi, if you still do request I was thinking of a reader x swk or sem. The reader is a sort of time traveler (much like the guy from that movie the butterfly effect) in which she can posses her past selves bodies by looking at picture, video, or reading her diary from that current version of her. During those possessions of get past self her current self (who she posses has no memory of that time of being possed "blacks out") the whole reason for the diaries. She posses an old version of her after her body had previously been dying killed by possed swk during the lbd fight. So she had lived through everything previously and knows whats going to happen.

Ahhh, I can smell the angst from here, I love it! Also don't worry, I'm still doing requests, just been busy and my had to switch from writing on my phone to my laptop, since my Grammarly keyboard officially broke on my phone...

Had to deal with my mom asking questions about what I was writing, since it was now obvious I was up to something.

Anyway, I'm sorry if this wasn't how you expected it, I got too caught up with the angst.

Saving Myself Then You|| Oneshot

Fate is cruel, and the path that leads to it is more brutal. Never have you thought of the person you cared about most trying to take your life. Well, in his defense, he was being possessed and was forced to. However, that didn't stop the fear rushing through your veins. Those piercing, cold blue eyes never left your fearful ones. Yet bravely facing the ruthless creature that brought havoc to heaven itself. Even so, you caught glimpses of the man you love trying to break free from that demon’s control, yet it wasn't enough. 

Nezha happened to be trapped in a thick layer of ice, stuck until someone got him out. Mk disappeared to who knows where, one moment was right behind you, and now he was gone. Which left you to fend for yourself, to survive on your own. You mentally pat your back for lasting this long, questioning if you have gotten good at dodging or was just pure luck.

“Well, at least I got to say I went up against the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven… You're not going to kill me, right? I'm on the ground, defeated. You win.” You said weakly. 

It didn't take a genius to realize things were about to get messy. You didn't want to believe it, trying to last long enough for Wukong to break free. Be that as it may, there was one thing you had forgotten. You were going up against a being that had fought the celestial army and defeated it with ease. 

In other words, you were getting your ass kicked and will not last long enough. Wukong steadily walks towards you. Ready to finish this fight, once and for all. 

“And here I thought, I was never going to use this power.” You mumbled.

Wukong glances at your hands when he sees you pull out the small diary. Quickly, he lunges at you, trying to tear the small journal out of your hands. 

Perhaps, you shouldn't have said that out loud in hindsight.

He pins you to the ground, putting his entire weight to keep you from moving. The air from your lungs forcefully escapes. The heavy pressure on your chest prevents you from taking another breath. Panic floods your mind, trying to open the journal. Any situation was better than this. You tear out a page from one of the recent entries. Wukong expression never changed from the intimating stern look. He glances at the book, casting it aside before settling on the torn paper. Your lungs burn from the lack of air, putting every last energy into reading the text. Your vision fades as it changes to the once-familiar setting.

You gasp loudly. The burning in your lungs serves as a haunting reminder of the future. You fall to your knees with tears falling from your eyes. Not only that, but you try to take as much air in your lungs, afraid of losing it again.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Tang gently places a hand on your shoulder.

You wiped the tears from your eyes. Finally, register where you ended up. Everyone was staring at you, worried. However, you stare at the person who tried to kill you in the near future. His lovely golden eyes were wide with worry. He was close to the cliff, ready to fly off to fight LBD. You push yourself up and rush at him, anger written on your face. Clasping on the hem of his shirt, you brought him down to your level.

“You better sit your ass down and listen! We are not doing this again!” You shout, letting your temper take control. 

Wukong stays silent but nods. Yet you didn't dare let go of his shirt, your glare never leaving his nervous face. 

“I’m assuming, from your mood right now. I failed to defeat the Lady Bone Demon.” Wukong laughs nervously, hoping that your foul mood lightens up. It did not.

“What do you think?” Your eyes narrow.

Wukong didn't say anything, silently cursing his future self for upsetting you. A sigh escapes from you, finally breaking the death glare. You let go of his shirt and wrap your arms around him. 

“Please don't go.” You whispered, leaning close, locking your lips with his.

Wukong body was tense, before relaxing and returning the kiss.

“I won't go, alright? Don't worry, I’ll be right here.” He said softly, resting his forehead on yours. 

The two of you, enjoying the small moment. Tears once again fall from your eyes, not from sadness, but in relief. 

“Sorry to ruin this cute moment, but please tell me you have a plan.” Mk said.

You let go of Wukong, wiping the tears away, and face the bruised-up group. 

“I- do not… I kind of nearly died.” It was your turn to nervously laugh.

“You, WHAT?” Everyone yelled in unison. 

“It wasn’t fun and I rather avoid that, so Wukong, stay here and come up with a decent plan this time.”  You glance at everyone, seeing their shocks faces turn serious but determined. 

“Any ideas?”

[acourtofthought]

Many have theorized that the Archeron sisters were distantly related to the fae warrior mentioned below:

Koschei is first mentioned on page 239.

Elain then talks of her vision of him on page 337.

And we find out, on page 675, that Elain's father was able to bargain with him:

It's totally out there but what if the reason Koschei was willing to make a deal with a human was because he knew that Papa Archeron was the father of three girls who were distant relatives of the fae who trapped him (on their mother's side)? What if a sacrifice of blood from that line was a requirement to free him from the spell?

The Bone Carver was able to show Feyre her future by revealing himself as the son she'd have some day.

What if Koschei had a similar gift and was able to see that one of the sisters from that line would be granted Seer powers, that she would be mated to someone who could break spells, so he set a plan in motion.

He chose Vassa for a specific reason (what is that reason?) but so far, Vassa's importance to the series isn't anything major (at least that I can tell). She's significant to the humans but as far as the current fae plots go, I think her friendship with Lucien is the most beneficial thing to Koschei, knowing Lucien and his mate would travel to free her once she's called back.

Even if the bargain that Papa Archeron made has nothing to do with the sisters having fae ancestry, I still think it's possible Koschei had knowledge that Elain would become a Seer and end up mated to Lucien (someone who might technically be able to break his confinement spell), reason enough to bargain with her father.

If the Bone Carver knew things from the future and Koschei is meant to be even more powerful, than it's not a total reach that he could have foreseen things as well.

[ownedbythescribe]

Diluc R. | Scorching Fears

ıllı Synopsis: "You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward." Pyrophobia was not the easiest thing to overcome, but with an aid by your side, there might be a chance to utilize the vision gifted to you. And may be something more?

ıllı Genre: Romance, Fluff

ıllı Notes: None, Female Reader

ıllı A/N: This is a bit out of character I think. But, it’s also a bit cute! Ahhh! Diluc is gorgeous, but please let me have Tighnari when I lose my 50-50!

Pyro is an element often characterized by its destructive nature. It burns its path to victory, leaving ashes on its trail. It is a symbol of power, courage, and ferocity. Bards claim it is a sign of leadership and patriotism, while others contest for love and passion. However, pyro is not all about strength and power. It also possesses a gentle warmth that heals wounds, dispels fear, and mends the broken. It softly dances across the skin, eliciting a smile from its intended receiver.

Wielding a pyro vision sounded like a fairytale come true, as it was deemed a gift from the gods. An acknowledgment for the better lack of term. It would have been the same case for you if it was not for the fact that you feared the flames. It stemmed from the incident years ago when you were trapped in the storage room after saving a friend from flammable chemicals that he wished to play with. The heat that scorched your skin and the suffocating blast of the wind terrified your whole being. Even now, your body would tremble at the sight of fire.

'Five years had passed, and yet I still can't use my vision. Will... will I ever be able to get over my phobia?' You begrudgingly thought, holding tightly to the glass orb in your hand. The pyro element flickered in line with your distress. As much as you wished to use it during your commissions as an adventurer, you knew you would only freeze in panic.

“Hmm? If it isn’t, (Y/N). What are you doing here, doll?” A familiar honeyed voice asked. You turned around to see Kaeya, who gave a small wave before sitting beside you. The exhaustion from his tasks as the Cavalry Captain was evident on his face and body.

“I was… just taking a break. The last commission I got from Marjorie took me all over to Old Mondstadt.” You replied. Kaeya could not fault you. The winds bellowing under the old tree in Windrise calmed both the body and mind, only a few of the blessings he would thank the Anemo Archon for.

You shifted in your seat to lean further into the tree. That was when Kaeya noticed the tight hold on your vision. He put two and two together and realized that something must have happened again. It was no secret that you could not wield your vision. People may revere those blessed by the gods, but it was also a source of contempt and jealousy for others to hold. When a few adventurers in the Guild discovered that you could not use your vision because of your fear of flames, they called you names for being useless.

'You're so useless!'

'This would have been faster if you could use your vision. Tch!'

'Why did the gods even bless you?'

They could see how their words brought you down, but Rosaria chastised them, leaving a threat anybody knew she would fulfill. Truly unbefitting for a nun, but she did not care. The maroon-haired woman glanced at you and voiced her opinion.

“So what if you can’t use your vision? Your experience and tenacity are enough to survive as an adventurer. The gods gifted them yada yada. Enough of that crap. Pave your own path with or without the vision.” Her words brought you back to your senses.

Silence, a not-so-comforting one, fell between you and Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain was lost in his thoughts, hoping to find a way he could help you utilize your power while also overcoming your fear. Then, a lightbulb lit up, and a grin made its way to his face.

"(Y/N), I know a way you can practice using your vision, but we require somebody to help you. I know just the right person." He uttered, glee and excitement evident in his tone. You squinted your eyes in confusion, but he merely sighed and pulled you up.

"Come on, you'll love it."

In an instant, you found yourself in the tavern. The boisterous laughter and chide of drunkards filled your ears. Rosaria merely smiled and pulled you next to her to sit. Kaeya sat down on the other side and called for the bartender who just happened to be Diluc.

'Huh...? Why here?' You groaned internally. No offense to Kaeya and Diluc, but this was the last place you expected to learn how to use your vision correctly.

Suddenly, a drink slid in front of you. The lustrous blue sparkled against the light, reminding you of the waters in Liyue. You gave Diluc a questioning look, to which he replied, ‘It’s on the house’. Kaeya had a grin plastered on his face while Rosaria raised her glass. You clinked yours with hers and thanked them.

Once you were distracted, Kaeya turned to Diluc. He did not miss the fond look present in the red-head’s eyes. Coughing, he gave him a sheepish look, one that Diluc returned with a deadpan face.

“So, mind telling me what’s with this?” He inquired. Kaeya proudly huffed that he pulled you here to get a drink and forget about the harsh words from the entitled adventurers in the Guild.

Diluc’s interest was piqued. He was also aware of your predicament, the inability to use your pyro vision because of pyrophobia. He once heard those cowards judge you when you did all the work for the commission. It irked him to no end just how prideful they were, but you just gave them an apology and smile. You were too good for them.

“I’m sure you did not just do that for a drink. What’s your plan, Kaeya?” Diluc pushed. The Calvary Captain smirked and informed him of his plan. The red-haired tycoon paled at each word that escaped his brother’s lips. There was no way it would work.

“Oh, come on! You’ve done this before with the knights. Plus, (Y/N) is not incompetent. I’m sure you’ve seen her train every now and then outside of the city walls. You also get to spend time with her~” He teased, the tycoon’s ears turning red at the insinuation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Despite his reluctance, Diluc asked you to meet him by the winery the next day after your commission. You asked him what for, and he replied flatly, “Training”. You blinked in confusion before he explained Kaeya’s request to help you wield your vision. He was blessed with one, after all. It worried you that you would probably waste his time, but he countered it.

“You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward. Haven’t you always wondered if you could get over your phobia? Or at least keep it at bay enough to utilize your vision?” His tantalizing crimson eyes pierced right through your worried ones. Biting your lip, you gave him a determined look.

“I’ll be in your care, Master Diluc.”

Diluc was a spartan. Relentless in every way possible. Your first day with him ended with scorches around his porch and a bit in his garden, which you profusely apologized for. He assured you it was natural, considering how you trembled at the sight of fire in your hands. True to his words, you faltered at the blazing element in your hand. Your throat was closing up, but Diluc tried calming you down with his instructions.

Mishaps caused you to feel a little down, but you did gain one valuable information about your power. The flames you created were a beautiful shade of blue, similar to that sparkling drink your master gave you. It made you smile.

The following days were filled with envisioning the flames in your hands. Diluc said that mental training was necessary for your body and mind to get used to the pyro energy. He made you endure the searing flames and their different shades. It amazed you that it could vary along with its temperature accordingly. Blisters would appear on your fingers, but the tycoon was always ready with ointments and bandages. You even got taken care of by Adelinde after accidentally setting a part of your hair on fire. Hence, you had to get a new haircut. You liked it, though.

“All right, now take your weapon and infuse the fire there. Imagine it as a coating, then keep the shape as long as possible.” He instructed. Taking a deep breath, you held your weapon before you and activated your vision. It was a slow process, but Diluc remained patient. You could keep it for two minutes, but it was not enough.

“Again, try for five minutes this time.”

It took a week to get hold of elemental infusion, but the battle was another thing. Diluc sparred with you, but it always ended up with your weapon being thrown out of your hands. It frustrated you that you could not concentrate enough to keep its shape while dodging and thinking of a way to hit the redhead.

“Focus! The flames are going out again.”

“Your footing is off, you’ll get hit from the sides if you keep that! Balance yourself.”

“Stand up. We’re not yet done. You—“ Diluc was stopped by your piercing eyes and vision flaring up. Silently, you dashed towards him, raised your sword and aimed it at him. He internally smirked before shielding his body with his claymore. His crimson eyes pierced yours, but you had enough of the frustration deep within you.

You trained your eyes on him while keeping the blue flames. There was a plan in your mind that you wished to try. Whether it would fail or not was up to your execution. You ran towards him and were about to parry with him again, but you jumped on his claymore and used it to maneuver yourself. You got behind and set your sword ablaze. Diluc was caught off-guard. Luckily, he deflected it in time, but not unscathed. He got minor burns from the flare.

“So you can do it after all.” He voiced, proud of your accomplishment. You were pulled out of your stupor by his praise, eyes suddenly glazing at the sight of your sword still alight.

“I did… Look, Master! I could do it! This is amazing! I—“ You suddenly fell, exhaustion finally catching up to your body. Diluc hurried to your side and asked if you were all right. Laughter emerged from your lips. You assured him that you were just tired. The smile present on your face and the gleam of your eyes froze him. You were ethereal.

“Thank you so much, Diluc. Although I still have some fear in my heart, you helped me overcome it bit by bit. This flame is so beautiful.” You muttered, willing the same blue flame to appear in your hand. The way it danced before you was mesmerizing. It gave you courage and confidence.

Diluc sat down beside you and materialized a flame of his own. He placed it near you, and they swirled around before dissipating in the wind. It was beautiful. Silence soon overcame you two, but this was a comforting one.

The redhead watched the sunset. After days of paperwork and training, this was the first time he saw how beautiful Mondstadt was. However, this time, he had someone precious beside him. He knew he had to act soon.

“You learned a lot from me, and I honestly don’t want our meetings to end once you fully grasp your vision. Will you… I mean not to bother you, but will you allow me to spend more time with you after?” He asked, cheeks and ears reddened at his request.

“What…?” You saw his embarrassed visage, and it made you shy all of a sudden. This was an unexpected outcome, but not one you were unwilling to take.

“I mean, visit here and—“

“I’d love to. But take me out for a proper dinner after this, okay, Diluc?” You teased. He blinked owlishly before erupting in chuckles. His smile was captivating, and you could not help your hands but touch his cheeks. He stopped and gave you a warm smile. It was right here that you realized you had fallen in love with the only flame in your life.

‘Why is he so beautiful!?’

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[carnivoured]

really curious to know your ideas!! TELL EM

I have soo many so im gonna post down a bunch… here’s some headcanons and other stuff!! sorry if theres grammar or spelling mistakes!!! ⚠️

-

bosses (main characters will be below bosses)

the moss/fungus/whatever covering the emperor and infesting the underground came from the waters that infested the frog folk former homes, taking over half of his mind and making him grow hungry (the fungus has never controlled a body this big before, so it needs to feast often) and eventually ending up invading the east

the west was invaded by blu because the blue wanted their technology. specifically the crystal canons that ended up defeating the titan but also putting giving them all a much less than ideal immortality. the hanged man, breaking free from the crystal he was trapped in, sort of went insane by the fact that his entire family, friends, and his people were either dead or frozen in time. he chose not to free them from the crystals (somehow having the ability to…) because of his guilt, not wanting to cause any damage than he has blamed himself to have already done. save for when he fights the drifter. anyways, i headcanon that his body is covered in more crystals than the rest of his knights is because the blast of the canon ended up impaling him with its power-core thing. so it’s stuck inside of him, some of his insides and maybe even limbs being kept together by the crystals. when he’s defeated, the core is triggered and it ends up killing him.

i don’t have anything for the hierophant 😞.,, sorry

the during their development, the sentients creators have had them interact and fight each other before. they all recognize each other. when the war breaks out, their development is put on hold, so all they know is aggression and battle. but since they recognize each other and are coded not to kill each other, they separate if they ever encounter each other. and in the art where the summoner and the reaper are holding hands, it might be something they don’t exactly understand, it happened just because. but if they were ever allowed to have been worked on further, maybe they would have realized that the hand holding gesture is a sign of affection

i headcanon that the sorcerer and the gunslinger are the same sentient but its legs can be removed and stored away during combat

the archer is easy to kill because they didn’t get to give it aimbot before the war broke out and forced them to flee/killed them all.

-

main characters

the shade doppelgangers show up when the jackal finds a drifter to guide it. judgement recognizes that the jackal has chosen someone and it sends out a shade doppelganger to try to slow their quest, unknowing that their connection is severed and the shade does not listen to judgement’s orders. the guardian has one called the knight (I need to redesign it soon lol). altie’s is called wolf but sometimes she calls it wisp too. the drifter calls his shadow. (if the drunk had one he’d call it fate)

altie is taller than the guardian and the drifter. she is also their roommate as well, but she often doesn’t sleep there or hang around at all. she has a little corner with her stuff. i headcanon that the fur on her back is natural and is long enough to reach her waist (she cuts it sometimes). because altie spends a lot of time outside of the apartment and around town, she learns a lot from the shopkeeper that sells the player grenades. so she is pretty skilled when it comes to working with technology, maybe she even made her combat companion bot herself!

the guardian’s right horn snapped off when they had their first horrible vision of judgment. when they woke up, their reaction to judgement scared them so badly that they had panicked and ended up getting their horn snapped off. it makes them sad to think about. the guardian is tall enough to reach altie’s neck.

the drifter his pretty skinny, he can’t really keep his food down. but his species are pretty quick and can do well without much food. or he’s just got good genes or plot armor. he’s the shortest out of the three, being as tall as the guardian’s shoulder. he has really short and fucked up hair because he doesn’t really care for it. he rarely takes off his headwear. during his time before defeating judgement, he forces himself to stay unemotional when exploring the land of light. the many disturbing and sad sights of death eventually became familiar and stopped making him hesitate to go around. he has experienced it all before, so it doesn’t take long anyways. whenever he’s in town, he barely interacts but he is very kind and respectful to all of the townspeople. if he survives judgement, he allows himself to get comfortable and more emotional, eventually opening up to his friends if they survive as well.

-

npcs

tom decided to spend his limited time underground, assisting drifters with combat.

the dashmaster hates it when people crash into his walls!!! but he doesn’t do anything about it because he knows it’s normal. however, he does keep a poster on the most hit wall that probably says something like “DO NOT AIM HERE” or something about coming to him for assistance with dashing. also on a bad hair day or a day without jell, his hair falls messily over his head and he covers it by holding the newspaper in front of his face.

the swordsmaster and the apprentice are great friends with altie!!! they enjoy her company and she even trains with the apprentice sometimes.

the football kid is a tanu and the apprentice is a blu under their hoods. but they were saved very young and don’t know about the war that happened in the west

the gunsmith is a tanu. also he often gets his bullets and guns by looting dead drifters or getting his gang to steal some. however, the reason he and the other four ganged up on the drunk was because the blu don’t have a specific uniform for their soldiers so they wore their casual clothing to the war in the west. the drunk is also in his casual clothing… they mistook him for a local blu soldier (they do eventually realize he isn’t because of his fur color or scent… but they don’t really care :((( )

the drunk hld. GOD. i headcanon that we kiss everydayNO. anyways. he is a veteran come to the land of light in search for a better life!! so yes he was a soldier but of course he did not fight in the war of the west… he gets his drinks from some drink stand owner that feels bad for him. gives him free ones. if he breaks his horrible drinking habits, he eventually gets involved with the town and sometimes watches the football kid absolutely destroy the drifter in a game

-

other stuff

i know that this isn’t a sentient and is just machine insides BUT i headcanon that they took faulty sentient failures and repurposed them into generators like this one all around the underground facilities in the south.

I just wanted to share this from the spritepage. he’s so cute

in this area, the jackal knows that you’re behind it. it can hear you, it just doesn’t want to break the moment, wanting you to feel like it doesn’t know you are there.

dirks are canonically dumb i know but they have went back to full on kitty instincts mixed in with hulk genes /j

they’re tiny becauseOH MY GOD IS THAT A WEINER??????HELPanyways they’re tiny because they wanted little gremlins that bite your ankles and annoy you while the bigger dirks come for you. also they could spy if they became smart enough. or they’re just some other species, idk

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Dick & Rachel and the Invisible String theory (part 4)

Hey, it's part 4! LAST ONE! I hope you liked part 1, part 2 and part 3. Seasons 3 & 4 get a joined part because while there aren't many String moments in these two seasons, the ones that are there are major.

Season 3 in general doesn't have much, considering Rachel is gone until episode 9 (and if what I'm talking about here was considered canon and writers had some more brains this season, we would have seen the String work at long distance but nooooo) but it doesn't change the fact that the content that is there is still stellar. And the String basically slaps us in the face with it.

For the past few months Rachel had been on Themyscira, where she trained under the Amazons and studied her magical abilities. And in episode 3x11 "The Call Is Coming From Inside The House" she comes back right into the middle of a mess. The Titans are scattered across Gotham City with no way of reaching one another, the city is against them so they need to hide and the big bad of the season took over Wayne Manor. The first person Rachel finds is Gar, who brings her up to speed on the current situation. Then they head out to search for the Lazarus Pit, because Gar had figured out that it might be how Jason came back to life after being killed at the beginning of the season.

Meanwhile, in a different part of the city, we see Dick stepping out in full Nightwing gear to answer Jason's challenge. The fight, to say it nicely, doesn't end well for him.

He gets fatally shot in the neck, then bleeds out on the ground while a crowd of Red Hood followers attacks him.

When it happens, Gar and Rachel are underground of some office building, where the Lazarus Pit is located. Suddenly, the Pit starts glowing and the whole place starts to shake as if there was an earthquake happening - and Rachel senses that something really bad is happening to Dick, though she can't tell what. We see her eyes glow red as her power erupts from her and hear her ear-piercing scream.

Two things here. The Pit isn't reacting to Dick's death — it wouldn't make much sense if there was a small earthquake happening every time someone dies in Gotham, right? — but rather to what's happening to Rachel. And what is happening to her?

It's a reaction to the physical pain of The String being broken.

Her scream literally sounds like she's being ripped apart. It's so loud, Gar is covering his ears. She loses all grip on her magic and lets it explode out of her. She can feel Dick dying and therefore their connection breaking.

Now, remember these two things I mentioned in season 2 breakdown that I said I will bring up during season 3? Now it's time to talk about them.

In Dick's last hallucination in 2x11 we see two memories of Rachel, one of which is the moment she entered his mind trapped in Trigon's vision to save him — which proves that Dick was aware of what's happening at the time and remembers it in great detail. And if he was aware, if he was awake somewhere deep in there back then, it means he was also awake to see this:

Imagine him, trapped in there, banging his fists against the walls of his mental prison and screaming, having no control over his body and being forced to watch it. Had he felt it? If Rachel felt the pain of his death, was he able to feel the String being ripped out of his soul the same way Rachel's heart was ripped out of her chest? How bad did it hurt? Did he also scream in pain?

Episode 3x12 "Prodigal" picks up right where the previous episode left off and we see Gar and Rachel roaming the city streets, looking for Dick. Rachel can feel he's dying (meaning he's not completely gone yet) and she uses that feeling to find him. Again, the String is leading her to him.

They get to the place of the fight and find him on the ground. Rachel screams and runs to him, starts crying as she drops to her knees next to him and that alone is heartbreaking enough because it looks like the weight of her grief is pushing her down. It's not a controlled fall — she stumbles and drops.

She tries to heal him with her powers but it's too late, it doesn't work. She and Gar are both devastated. Having no other choice, the kids take his body to the Lazarus Pit with the help of Gar's new friends - the bats.

They spend their time holding vigil by the edge of the Pit and waiting for Dick to come back. Rachel doesn't want to take her eyes off the water, as if that alone would bring Dick back. When Gar asks if she can sense him in there, Rachel simply replies that "he has to fight". They can't help him anymore. All they can do is wait.

Meanwhile, Dick's soul goes through a little journey through his past, present and possible future, in order to decide whether or not he wants to come back to life. And even while under the magical waters, his connection to the living world remains intact, because before the journey begins, he can hear Rachel and Gar's voices. He can hear Rachel begging him to talk to her.

Eventually Dick emerges from the water and Rachel grabs onto him to help him climb out of the pit. He drops unconscious right after and she doesn't let him go until he wakes up and gets back on his feet. (It's also worth mentioning that this is the first time he sees Rachel in months, he had no idea she was back until now — talk about a crazy reunion)

He's alive. The String is restored. And also more powerful than ever.

And how do I know that? Because season 4 is where it gets insane.

The shit they're pulling here? In season 1 this would have been impossible. There's not many instances I'll be talking about here but they're huuuuuge and also the most logically unexplainable out of the entire series.

In Episode 4x02 "Mother Mayhem", after Lex Luthor mysteriously dies, Dick takes Rachel to the man's office so she can use her magic and figure out what happened. A vision shows her a house somewhere in town, and when they get there, they find a bloodied body of a woman on the kitchen floor and a little girl, Aria, in her bedroom upstairs, who's trapped in a nightmare. By entering her mind, Rachel is able to save the girl from the masked attacker, and from the dream she gets another location — an abandoned building. The Titans gear up and head out to investigate and find out that it's a slaughterhouse turned into a ritualistic lair. They go upstairs and seem to cross the whole length of the building, but Rachel breaks away from the group and comes back downstairs, following a feeling of someone watching her.

Upstairs, the Titans find bodies of five men, including Aria's father, hanging on chains, their blood being drained into the buckets at their feet. They're still alive so the group rushes in to get them down.

Meanwhile Rachel is wandering through what looks like the basement level of the bulidng (look at the high position of the boarded window between the two lamps, all it took me to figure it out is paying attention to the placement of windows throughout the scene), far away from the group at this point, having sensed that the figure that attacked her in Aria's nightmare is hiding here somewhere and she's trying to find it.

The masked figure surprises her and attacks her from behind, knocking her to the ground but she's able to defend herself with her magic right before the masked man is about to stab her.

Back upstairs, Dick suddenly turns and shouts Rachel's name, knowing that she's in danger. He drops everything and runs, leaving Kory and the boys to take care of the victims.

Now, I've rewatched this many times to figure out the logistics. Rachel went at least one floor down, to the basement, while the others went up from the ground level. She is on the other side of the building while the rest is trying to free these guys from the chains. How the hell did Dick know she was in danger? First thought: he heard her. BUT. There's no giant scream. Yes, she shouts at the figure but she seems to be too far from the rest of the Titans to be heard (especially over the rattling of chains and overall commotion) and even if they have comms in their ears, wouldn't everyone be able to hear her? Gar and Tim don't react, Kory doesn't either until Dick turns and calls Rachel's name — and that's not even a reaction to Rachel herself but to what Dick is doing. When he takes off, she looks after him over her shoulder but doesn't do anything, neither do the boys. And if they all heard Rachel being attacked, wouldn't at least Kory go with him? For backup? Wouldn't she have the same kind of reaction?

This is the clearest example of the pattern of Dick being able to sense when Rachel is in danger. The previous examples were really small compared to this. The String tugged at his gut and told him to run, and he left everything and immediately took off. She couldn't be heard. No one else reacted. They didn't know where she was. Only he knew, was able to find her, and then comforted her when she was shaken after the attack.

Now we move to episode 4x08 "Dick & Carol & Ted & Kory"

Dick, Kory and Rachel are stuck in a town hidden behind a magical barrier with all its residents being brainwashed into a perfect life (welcome to Wandavision, everybody). Rachel gets separated from the others and held captive by the Church of Blood, while Dick and Kory, on top of searching for her, are fighting with their own progressing brainwashing (and start confronting their feelings for each other).

First moment I want to mention is a small one and a liiiiiitle bit of a stretch but you've seen enough of my delusion at this point that it shouldn't even surpirise you that it's here.

Kory is rapidly succumbing into the brainwashing and more often taking on the persona of Carol — a perfect wife with the perfect life she shares with her husband Ted, who Dick is turning into. He's having it a little easier to keep control over his mind, but he's starting to struggle as well. They're at "their house", trying to figure out a way to protect themselves from losing their minds (a way that's bringing up some buried feelings as a side effect) so they can search for Rachel. Kory is losing her mind to Carol while Dick is trying to keep a very important conversation going, when suddenly he sees this:

A flock of ravens in the sky is basically an equivalent of Rachel sending a flare. A big neon sign saying HEY, I'M HERE! It's another example of Dick dropping everything and rushing with help. Kory has fully turned into Carol at this point and he obviously can't leave her like this (which he emotionally promises to her, saying that would never) so he takes her with him and asks her to stay in the car while he goes for Rachel.

Another one from this episode, a bit later. And this one's big. Again, it's Rachel bringing Dick back to reality, and this one is at the same level as the one from 2x01, if not bigger.

They found a way to break the brainwashing and the barrier. They head to the location. In the car, Dick is starting to turn into Ted, but all Rachel has to do is snap her fingers.

Later he fully switches into Ted, while they're attacked by guards inside the building — which makes the situation really bad because Ted isn't a fighter. He doesn't have the training and instincts, and curls on the floor in fear as the guards beat him.

And it's up to Rachel to remind him of who he is:

That first memory of her, of that little girl from the interrogation room staring at him with wide, pleading eyes full of tears is his anchor to reality. Obviously, Detroit holds a very special place in both of their hearts, it's the origin of their story, and the mere mention of it brings back who Dick is and what he's fighting for. It snaps him back in an instant and just like that he's back in the game, moping the floor with the guards.

Honorary mention to the third time she has to bring him back in this episode, only not from brainwashing, but from a cloud of rage that blinded him when he got his hands on the machinery responsible for the brainwashing and destroyed it all with his bare hands.

Then we have episode 4x10 "Game Over" which, along with 4x02, is their episode of the season. Now, I could write a whole new essay about the significance of the "Your weapon is your love for this child" line and said weapon, but I'm going to leave this for a fic. Here, I'm going to talk about something that happens later.

Dick and Rachel are performing a dark magic ritual to serve the link between Rachel and her half-brother Sebastian. The ritual gives "the inner evil" a physical form so it can be killed with a blade made out of love (how poetic, isn't it?). The monster that appears is connected to Rachel and feeding off her life force, so the longer it exists, the more energy she loses and in the end can die. After a brief fight with Dick, the monster runs away — Dick hesitates, not wanting to leave Rachel, but she tells him to go chase it.

Now this where we can see the String at work. The communication is the easy part this time — they have comms in their ears, they can talk to each other. But Rachel, despite being vulnerable and drained of energy, can sense both Dick and the monster. The monster? Sure, they're connected, it literally came out of her. It's the whole point of the ritual. But Dick? She knows where he is in the building, can tell him where to go and warn him when the monster is near. It's like she can see through his eyes, she stays connected to his mind and is able to guide him. What's more is that they are both aware of the connection and using it to their advantage. They're working like a well oiled machine at this point.

Technically, the blade can also be backed up by the String, since it's supposed to be powered by Dick's love for Rachel ("Your faith will make the blade. Your weapon is your love for this child."). Through the entire fight and chase, Dick is struggling to make the blade work, because he's thinking about it too much, and only succeeds when the monster takes Rachel for a target and has his hand around her neck, choking her. Fear for her safety is what makes the blade work.

And that's it! Man, writing it all down and gathering evidence took me way longer than I expected lol. What can I say to wrap this up? Dick and Rachel's relationship progresses as any other on the show, it has its ups and downs, but there's also this extra factor that makes it something more. It's right there from the start and it's consistent thoughout the entire series. Whether we call it fate, destiny, the invisible string or just a simple coincidence of events that wasn't thought out by the writers but somehow happened anyway, we can't deny that it's there. At least I can't — that's why I love them so much.

If you somehow read through all of this delusional blabbering and got to the end, thank you for your time and for allowing me to share a piece of my heart and brain with you. Creating these posts reignited my love for these two birds, it was a good decision to do so.

[snowywanderer]

The Meaning of Flowers

Words: 957

Warnings: eye contact

Description: On a fateful day, you see a view on Starsnatch Cliff that easily beats what you’ve seen previously. You can’t help your desire to talk to the stranger.

—

The view at Starsnatch Cliff is a well-loved one, especially by you. You try to find time at least once a month to dance among the cecilias, before heading to the highest point and staring out at the ocean. You swear sometimes you see islands in the distance, though people look at you weird if you bring it up. They aren’t on a map, after all.

Today, you think you’ve found a view even more beautiful than usual.

If you come early enough in the morning, you don’t usually run into as many people. It’s certainly odd that a man, gorgeous at the dawn sky, stands at the edge of the cliff.

He’s turned away somewhat, but what you can see of his features look beautiful. His forehead is wrinkled as he glared out towards the horizon, yet he still looks breathtaking. It strikes you as odd clothes on his back look Inazuman, though you suppose with the lifting of the Sakoku Decree more visitors from the nation have come to Mondstadt.

“Hello!” You call cheerfully.

He turns quickly, eyes wide. Shock quickly turns to annoyance.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, walking towards him. “I just don’t tend to see people here this early.”

“You didn’t scare me,” he lies, but you won’t call him on it. “Are you a Knight, or are all Mondstadters required to greet foreigners so enthusiastically?”

“Not at all,” you laugh. “Like I said, people don’t tend to come here at this time. I was just curious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“The cecilias look best this time of year. I don’t blame you if you want to see them without dealing with others.” Realization strikes you. “Oh, I can leave you alone if you want.”

“You sure like to talk, don’t you?” Despite his tone, the stranger’s feet are planted firmly. He doesn’t shoo you away either.

“I can talk more, if you want.” He cracks a smile for a second, and you decide to push further. “Cecilias, in the language of flowers, represent a wish to free someone of their current situation. You might give them to someone who feels trapped by work to wish they could get days off or something.

“Oh! And did you know cecilias are said to be favored by Barbatos? At least, that’s what I heard from a bard back in the city. Actually,” you add thoughtfully, “he might have just made it up seeing as he’s written songs the Sisters consider blasphemous.”

“Blasphemous?” You might be imagining, but he seems to have perked up a bit.

“He sang once of Barbatos pranking the Geo Archon with false love confessions, sending letters weekly for months, complete with flowers. Oh, and he once challenged the Electro Archon to a duel, knowing she was far more powerful than he. He, of course, failed to show up.”

The man finally cracks and laughs, loud and harsh like he isn’t used to feeling genuine mirth. His eyes shine brightly. “I like that second one.”

You suppose, noting the ornament in his chest, it isn’t odd for an Inazuman with a Vision to have some resentment for the Raiden Shogun. “You know, he had an Anemo Vision too.”

“I think I’d like to meet this guy,” he says, the last of his laughter fading. “You know, back to cecilias, we have some odd flowers back in Sumeru.”

“Oh?” His Vision’s casing, you now notice, is shaped like those of Sumeru, in contrast with his clothing.

“Kalpalata lotuses aren’t actually lotuses, as they grow on the side of cliffs rather than the water. Sumeru roses also aren’t true roses. I don’t personally like the idea of a name that lies.”

“Do you like flowers, then?”

“I don’t particularly care for them.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

In that case… you have a terrible idea.

“Actually, I’ve read about them in books before. Kalpalata lotuses you give to people who need to be reminded of their own mortality, and Sumeru roses are given as a suggestion to someone they ought to break up with their romantic partner.”

He covers his mouth and breathes shakily. “Is that so?”

“Not at all. I just made that up.”

Despite him trying to remain cool, he cracks again. You can’t help but grin in return.

“Why did you actually come here?”

“I’m just a wanderer. I heard the view here’s nice.”

“And is it?”

He meets your eyes for a moment, then turns away, hiding his features with his hat. “I suppose it was worth it coming here in the end.”

“The sun’s more visible now,” you point at the ocean. “You might want to head off if you don’t want to run into anyone else.”

His troubled expression from before returns.

You reach down and pick up a cecilia before offering it to him. “For you. I’m not sure if you need freedom from anything, but perhaps the good will will carry on until you need it.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze yet again.

You smile in response, and head off.

—

It’s merely been a few hours since your encounter, and it still weighs upon your mind. You can’t help but want to know more about that man, and wonder if you shouldn’t have asked his name.

You’re taking a walk near the southernmost fountain when something makes you stop dead in your tracks. It’s the man from earlier, and he’s playing with some of the kids. They certainly seem happy, and you think he must be too.

You lose your balance for just a moment, but it’s enough that you step wrong and several heads turn towards you. The tallest of the group has a recognizable flower in his hair.

[bionicle-ramblings]

So!

The whump ideas, both emotional and physical

Takua, in Ta-Metru, having an inexplicable, sometimes irrational fear of the dark. It gets to the point where he can't even go out at night or go anywhere that has no light. It's so bad that he sleeps holding a light stone. It goes well until he is one day arretsed and left alone in the dark. It's not long until Takua PANICS because he's alone in the dark and anything could get him. After he's let out, he never sleeps without a light stone. It's a fear that stays with him even when he's in Mata Nui, though Turaga Vakama does help him deal with it

The Toa Metru are in Ko-Metru and have to cross a canal. They all have ideas, but Nuju's wins when he freezes the water so it's thick enough for them to walk across. There is the tense feeling that the ice could break at any given second, so the Toa all try to be quick as they walk. There's a moment where someone falls on the ice, but doesn't break it, which makes everyone hold their breath for a moment. They all hear the ice cracking around them and pick up the pace, but they realize that Vakama has stopped moving entirely, and see that he's producing heat and slowly melting the ice around him until it starts cracking beneath him. Nuju and Nokama try to tell him to stay calm as Vakama slowly approaches, trying not to panic as he sees the cracks follow him, and he ultimately falls into the ice. It sends everyone into a panic, more so when Nokama dives after him and, out of sheer panic, Nuju's powers activate at the worst possible time and refreezes the ice, trapping Vakama and Nokama under the water. They are able to get both Toa out of the freezing waters and the team gets away from the canal with their lives, but where Nokama is freezing and can't stop shivering, Vakama is more or less knocked out cold, having passed out after nearly drowning and freezing to death. The team does get to a somewhere they can get a fore going and get their brother and dister warmed back up, but it's the first time they see Nuju look so genuinely afraid for his fellow Toa and also look haunted at what he'd nearly caused to happen, even when Whenua comforts him

Lhikan starting off as an optimistic, looker-ahead when he starts off as a Toa, but he ends up no longer being as hopeful, as he loses his friends, previous life, and even having to kill one of his own friends and see another betray him and get mutated into a four legged monster

Vakama's visions cause him headaches. Bad ones. And if he isn't racing to the visions and either dodging or racing stuff that isn't there, imagine if he instead froze on the spot or had a panic/anxiety attack or, most damaging, had a seizure, either while standing or collapsing to the ground in front of the other Toa. If it's the latter, it's something the team and Vakama keep an eye on because if he starts collapsing during battle, they cannot save him

Roodaka capturing Toa or Toa-Hordika Vakama, and when manipulating him doesn't work, she leaves him alone in the cell/"room" he was tied in. Maybe Vakama shouts that leaving him alone is a bad idea because he can just escape, but after a day or two, and being unable to get out, the solotude starts getting to him and he starts hearing and seeing things that aren't there, the hallucinations getting worse the longer he's left alone. Maybe to make it worse, Roodaka still visits Vakama and offers her proposal again and again. As much as Vakama revels in seeing an actual physical being and not a figment of his mind, he does not listen, so Roodaka casually tortures him and leaves him alone again, even when Vakama shouts for for not to, because he's that desperate to not be alone again.

Nokama having a sort of "freak out" because she's so used to being a teacher, a mentor, a natural leader, and having that weight taken off of her by Vakama and the other Toa is fine, but she's not sure what to do with herself.

This idea came from @sammykat2hb-blog . After their escape from the coliseum, instead of what's seen in the movie/book, Matau, Nokama, and Vakama are shaken and stirred after the day's events, even more so when Dume announces that they're frauds and frames them for all Metru Nui to see. Nokama, in a moment of complete anger and despair, shouts and maybe even punches one of the chute towers, which only hurts her. Matau is completely silent, only crouching to the ground as he reels and maybe gets overwhelmed with emotions. Vakama is caught between the two, being distraught to where he wants to just break down, but freezing because some small part of him knows Lhikan wouldn't have broken like that, and that leads to an inward battle of wanting to be upset, to be hurt, to break for a second; he was a mask-maker and a tool-maker. He knows how to put things back together again. Instead, the three simply sit side by side under the tower, all of them terrified and holding onto each other, a gesture that is awkward because they've never reached out for comfort like needing to be held, but they've got each other

Alternatively, in their cell, Onewa is doing everything he can to try and get out, banging on the door, striking the ceiling window above, and shouting that they were framed, maybe even shouting for the dark hunters to come back and deal with the Toa themselves. Whenua is taking a more quiet approach and trying to figure out what's around them, but he's having a hard time because Onewa won't shut up. Nuju, unlike both of them, has pressed himself into the corner as hard as he can, trying not to snap because, being more of the "solitary" type, there's nowhere he can go to get away from Onewa and Whenua, and, with where their cell is, he can't even look up or see the stars or sky(the light is reflected off a mountain side) so he's not having a good time. It all comes to a head when Whenua makes Onewa stop yelling and Onewa just stares at the Toa with absolute fear in his eyes because they're trapped in prison, they don't have their mask or elemental powers, they have no idea where the others Toa are, and they can't get out, so, for all they know, they could end up worse off than Lhikan: Disappearing, having their names dragging through the mud, and eventually being forgotten amd lost to time. Nuju screams at them both to shut up and the three, like Vakama, Matau, and Nokama, sit side by side, terrified, but together. It's awkward to sit together, but they've got each other and that's enough to calm them down

Vakama and the other Toa Metru struggling with the fact they were chosen and did not choose, dealing with a loss of autonomy over themselves and with how they didn’t get a say in what happened to them because they were chosen and, if they're going to be Toa, then they'll be the best Toa they can be despite it

The Matoran on Mata Nui all struggling post-memory wipe because they all know they're forgetting something, but don't know what it is, and all have knowledge they don't remember learning. It frightens them and confuses them, but they learn to cope as they adjust to their island home

In Time Trap, to try and get Vakama to spill the beans, Teridax uses the illusion of Takua and Jaller to try and get Vakama to tell him where the Mask of Time is, knowing the three were close. It goes well with Vakama being ruefully fooled into thinking he's with his friends, even as he goes to look around Metru Nui for answers about the new "reality" around him. When Vakama does realize and have it confirmed that the world he's in isn't real, he's gutted because he misses his old life and his friends. When "Takua" and "Jaller" try asking him what's up, Vakama admits he knows they're not really there, that they're in their forced slumber and they won't remember him when they wake up, that the world they're all in isn't real even if there's some part of him that wants it to be. With that, and his "friends" asking what he's talking about, Vakama throws a Kanoka disk, and it passes through them both. Vakama is resolved as the illusion breaks, but is still haunted by seeing his friends again because he'll never really have that friendship again

Jaller as a Toa experiencing TREMENDOUS guilt because as much as he fights to do the right thing, it's done nothing but hurt everyone because it didn't stop Teridax. Add to that the events of the final arc in Bionicle where he's mesmerized by a Golden being(I could be wrong about the name) and effects of being free from that feel like going through withdrawl even if being mesmerized left him open to be killed

[team-cap-for-the-win]

Honest question: what would need to differ in the airport battle for everyone on Team Cap to escape with Steve and Bucky?

Hi, thanks for the ask!

Well, the shorter, easier answer is that Team Iron Man would just let them - because ideally they talked it out and Tony could see they have a point in needing to stop Zemo's super soldiers from being activated.

But for the more drawn out what-if scenario, where there still is an airport battle and all, I think the easiest way for them to all escape is to incapacitate as many members of team Iron Man as they can. I feel like they sort of tried to do this - Scott tried to deactivate Tony's suit, Steve got Peter stuck under the airport stairs thingy, and Natasha (honorary team cap member) electrocuted T'challa. All of these factors helped them more than say, Wanda throwing the cars around. So with that in mind I'll try to imagine how they could do this more effectively than in the movie.

So, from what I can tell, they split up in the beginning to try to get to the quinjet and disperse team IM, which isn't a bad idea. You can't account for who is gonna chase who, and throughout the scene, people pick fights with different characters so I'll try to cover who's best equipped to deal with each member.

Tony - Clint could use an EMP arrow, although I can't tell if that would work with the upgrades Tony's got on his suit. Maybe it could slow him down. Likewise, Scott can do the thing he did in the movie and disconnect circuits. And lastly, Wanda could definitely crush the joints of the armor or something like that, but I don't think she'd be willing to risk hurting Tony doing that, for all his faults (I'm not sure how delicate she can be with her magic). Also, any one of them could have a lucky shot and break the arc reactor.

Rhodey - Same as Tony.

Natasha - (disregarding that she helps them later on) Clint knows how she fights the best. Someone super-powered like Steve or Bucky could most likely beat her. Sam could carry her away from the battlefield.

T'challa - He's enhanced and also really wants to kill Bucky, and Steve & Bucky combined could probably take him. Like Natasha's widow bites, Clint could probably use some sort of electric arrow on him.

Peter - The thing Steve did in the movie, trapping him under something heavy, seemed to do the trick. Peter is tricky because he's got webs that could disable like, all of team Cap, but he doesn't use them like that much lol. I don't think anyone is strong enough to fight him hand-to-hand and win based on strength. But he can be outwitted because he's new to super-heroing.

Vision - let's be real the only one capable of making a dent in Vision is Wanda... Which is a problem, since she doesn't want to hurt him again! But to be honest if she did the same thing to him as in the compound (but in the airfield) that could occupy him long enough for them to get away.

Overall Wanda is the strongest member and she could probably wipe the floor with all of them if she really wanted to... Sam (and Clint) gets the short end of the stick here but I think he could definitely distract team IM members and make for easier takedowns. Redwing would be useful for that too. Scott is also a great diversion.

TLDR; Their best bet is disabling team IM members more effectively instead of engaging them needlessly. Which is easier said than done, but maybe in a different timeline they managed that :)

Again, thanks for the ask!

[scarletwidowqueen]

Why ship Wandanat

There was a missing scene in the civil war movie that was later put inside a comic, where Natasha is the first person to comfort Wanda after what happened. And to be honest, a lot of it has to deal with their familiar past. Lives full of pain and suffering that lead them to either be taken from their homes or to lose everything, to being forced or tricked into work for the villains. The decision to turn to the side of good. Russian and Sokovia backgrounds. There are so many similarities to their past making people like me, believe they would be happy together due to the mutual understanding they would have with one another. That they aren’t the monster they were created to be.

Natasha, for example,  cares a great deal about being trusted by others, as well as feeling like she is not a monster. Also, I feel that Natasha has a thing for people with power, someone that can outsmart her. Put her in place when needed. But would never hurt her and instead use that power to save others. Look at her and Bruce's first scene together in avengers. She was impressed that he could out smarter her into revealing they weren’t alone. Natasha was never played like that before. Like many others, I don’t think Natasha and Bruce work as a couple, but I do agree that Bruce's character trait of being the strongest person in the world but refusing to hurt anyone. Is something Natasha would find greatly attractive.

Wanda is that one person Natasha knows she can always trust, the one person she knows deep down she could never lie to. Because She would never need to. Because Wanda understands what it likes. That Natasha can finally trust someone knowing everything about her past because she shares the same one. Things not even Shield knew of or even Clint the man who saves her knows.

As for Wanda, I think these dynamics work much better. Wanda is an observant person, look as she read Tony as a person and instantly knew that his paranoia destroyed would the avengers (Ultron). She was smart enough to know Destroying the avengers would take time, patience, and precision. She can read people like a book meaning she can read Natasha better than anyone else. And now she can read your mind. Also, Natasha know Wanda can tear robot to dust, she has the power to do that to anyone in her way. but chooses to use that power to protect people. A personality trait I explain Natasha finds attractive but deeper than that is Wanda is the one person that would understand Natasha on a personal level with their shared background. Wanda let hydra experiment on her so she could get revenge on Iron Man and protect her country from war. But Wanda has the heart to let go of that hatred to save people and become a Hero.

I personally don’t buy Wanda and Vision have absolutely nothing in common. Vision was only created what three years ago. What similar life experiences would he possibly have to related to Wanda on a deeper level. Wanda spend two day trap under rubble with Nuke. And Vision…. Has the mind stone that connect them on a deeper level doesn’t work. Just because both there power come from the mind stone doesn’t justify building a relationship over.

Compare these to Natasha would went through a brutal and inhumane training program to break her into a mindless Killing Machine. Wanda and Natasha have so much to bond over it crazy the MCU never explored a relationship between the two of them.

[ithecarpediem]

Because my choice has always been you (AO3)

In which Bu-yeon remembered that she's Naksu and Jang Uk has to pick up his wife from Jinyowon.

Continuation of previous one shots "I would choose you in every lifetime" and "You are spring to my winter heart" Preview:

“We can't break off, we are having a baby.” He crossed his arms.

We are what? The words were so out of touch with reality that made her pause in all her agony.

“No, we are not.”

“How can you be so sure? We sure tried a lot.” He cocked his head in arrogance. “A consume marriage can’t be undone, anyway.”

“So you rather trapped me in?” She inquired in a dangerous tone, Naksu could at very least intimidate him.

“Don’t be so dramatic, dear, the one who came back to her prison cell was you.” She opened her mouth to argue, but it was truth, that room had been her prison for years. “I’m not letting you g…” He paused for a moment staring at her.

The Ice Stone user’s strange silence lasting for three heartbeats, she narrowed her eyes in puzzlement.

“What?”

“You have beautiful eyes.” He babbled stunned, Naksu looked away sheepishly, her cheeky burn embarrassed.

“Don’t change the subject!”

“You should come back home.” Her husband announced.

“Of course not! I don’t… What are you doing? Put me down!” She shouted outrage as he simply threw her over his shoulder. “UK! YOU’RE STUPID BASTARD, LET ME GO! GUARDS!”

Jang Uk ignored it all as he opened a portal to their home, and only let her go when they reach her bedchamber, where he dropped like a potato sack on the bed. Naksu leapt to her feet, snarling at the arrogant little shit, chasing him out of the door with slaps and curses. Her husband easily deflect her attacks opening the door.

“Keep in mind if you ran away, I’ll pick you up again.” The mage warned as she closed the door on his handsome face.

“What’s going on?” She heard Maidservant Kim through the door.

“Maidservant Kim, don’t let her leave the house for now.”

“What? Why, Young Master?”

“She wants to dissolve our marriage and let our child be fatherless.”

“C-child? Young Master? Wait!” Maidservant Kim shout behind the door.

Naksu stared at the door speechless to what she had just heard.

What had just happened?

Her hand went to her stomach on pure instinct, before she jumped in fear. She wasn't pregnant, she was going to die!

With the knowledge of true identity it didn’t only came back her despair and pain.  Hate, revenge, fury, violence. Naksu turned to these familiar feelings, and let them consume her to distract herself from the pain, she was used to them. A lifetime of it actually.

And who made me like this? She didn’t need to think much about it, the answer came as easy as breath. Danju.

She didn’t have much time though, for the assassin knew now, her soul would fade away with the wind. The real Bu-yeon explained after pulling Naksu out of the storm of emotions inside her heart after remembering. Soon the priestess would gain back her divine powers and Naksu’s soul would be gone. With that warning came a vision, of the world’s fate.

A world of ashes. The fire bird shall awake very soon.

A world that Naksu once dream of while blind by her fury. But that was before him, when she had only been a child, trained to be an assassin, now she had lived through many lifetimes. The world shouldn’t be destroyed, it should be protected, and the one who was going to do it was Jang Uk.

“You lost enough to understand.” Bu-yeon observed her with the face of Mu-deok with a blindfold.

“I’ll help.” Naksu promised.

Naksu went to Jinyowon to plan, to make them all pay for their sins. It was much more than a just petty vengeance. It was justice. To right the wrong. For the people she failed to protect.

And now here she was again in the household Jang.

After a few moments thinking, she called Maidservent Kim and send word to Lady Jin, so that the woman would not come demanding her daughter back. That was no used to avoid Jang Uk by running. Hurting him didn’t work either.

Why I’m so charming? Why did I seduce him? She blame her face, although her body was different from her original one, her beauty was back.

Not that Mu-deok was ugly or anything, after all she belong to the Jin family of Jinyowon, but Naksu was aware that her original face carried a distinct beauty.

Wait, does that mean that Uk fell for a beautiful woman? The bastard resisted her for how long? Definitively it was less than a month. Perhaps he recognized her just like she recognized him as her husband…

“I did it first this time.” She murmured going to get a bath, it was an awfully long day, after all.

After that she went to sleep, a peaceful dreamless sleep. It was already dark when something woke her up, Naksu tense up for a moment, confused about her surrounding, until she recognized the cool breeze around the room. The invader gently lifted the blanket to join her on the bed.

“Get out.” She said quietly as Uk snuggled against her body, it took a moment to realized he was naked. Not an unusual thing for him, they usually slept like that. Naksu cursed yet again their marriage.  “Get out, Uk.” She urged him.

“Shut up.” He cut her off holding her hand, she fought him. “You are the only one who can get rid of the wraiths, let me have one peaceful sleep, wife.”

“You can do that in your own room, husband.” He turned his back to Naksu, ignoring her, and forcefully pulled her arm to wrap around his middle. “Stop it!”

“You were the one who got me used to this warm, dear, doesn’t matter if we are fighting. Now, go to sleep.”

“You are too cold.” She complained.

“You said you like it.”

“I lied.” Her husband had the nerve to chuckle quietly.

“What else did you lie about?” He whisperer to the dark, she felt a vicious urge to bite him.

“Well, every single time I came for starts…”

“I’ll kiss that insolent mouth of yours until you begged me to take you, if you don’t stop.” He threatened her who scoffed against his neck. “I’m tired, wife, I just came back from the Dark Forest.”

Silence fell upon them, in the last months that became a sort of code for them. Dark Forest meant that the wraiths were fighting him after using the Ice Stone power to kill soul shifter. Her arm slowly tighter around him, this usually were the worst days, where even thought she send the wraiths away, the ice magic took a toll on him.

He sighed in contentment as she cuddled against him, giving a softy kiss in her hand before intertwine their fingers. Seeing him so fulfill with her presence alone made her want to cry in despair, at same time it made her want to giggle in joy.

It was hysterical.

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