#i have clearly angered the Gods because they won't let me have any of this

[maximura]

NI-KI | ENHYPEN at KCON LA 2024

[yowlthinks]

The Final 15: Aziraphale's decision matrix in a no-choice situation

I have been thinking and reading about what happened since season 2 came out, and I think I have finally been able to put it all down into a logical sequence. This meta is the result of both countless posts I have read on tumblr and my own thoughts.

But let us start from the beginning, which is essentially Metatron's offer:

Notice how Aziraphale consistently declines the honour, as Metatron keeps pressing. When he says that Aziraphale is the perfect choice he also mentions that Aziraphale "is a leader, is honest and doesn't just tell people what they want to hear", which is of course a lie and they both know it. Initially, Aziraphale can't deny it because he can't just go "well, actually, I have been doing exactly that, stretching the truth in my reports and on a few notable occasions outright lying to my superiors and even God Herself". So he deflects to "where will I get my coffee?", preferring to highlight his attachment to Earth. In response to that Metatron makes his final move: he knows about Aziraphale's partnership with Crowley, and that means he knows about the lies.

This threat to Crowley gets Aziraphale to the following decision matrix:

Telling Crowley about the threat is useless. Aziraphale knows he will suggest running away together, and that puts them both in danger. Similarly, running away alone / hiding Aziraphale will not be a good move either because Metatron will not hesitate to harm Crowley and use him as a bait for Aziraphale.

So this means that Aziraphale's best option is not telling Crowley about the threat and persuading him to come with Aziraphale, his second best being going alone. Both of these offer best safety guarantees for Crowley, and this is something Aziraphale would not compromise on.

So our angel launches into this entire speech about making a difference. These are the only arguments he can come up with on the fly regarding why he took the position (the position he does not want! At a place he does not want to go back to!). And he is terrified that Metatron will come back and he won't be able to finish this conversation, won't be able to persuade Crowley. Add to this the fact that Crowley is clearly trying to have an important conversation with him too. A conversation they would like to have in private, but which Aziraphale knows can be interrupted at any moment. That's why he tries to stop Crowley, that's why he is constantly glancing out of the window.

Aziraphale is angry and frustrated, but this is mostly anger at Metatron who put him into this position, at the unfairness of it all, at himself for not being able to get Crowley to agree. It is the despair that just when Crowley confesses his love, instead of being able to say "I love you" back, he has to swallow it down again. Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is "I forgive you for not trusting me to make the best choice for us both", "I forgive you for not agreeing to go with me, I understand why you declined". And this aligns neatly with the theory about the Nightingale song in the car being a message from Aziraphale: it is his way of saying "I love you, I chose you, I chose our side, and that’s why I had to go".

And you know what? Crowley is a clever noodle and he knows Aziraphale well, so he will figure it out, he will spot this out of character, under-duress-only style of decision-making and start untangling that mystery.

We all know how it ends, and I can't wait to see it!

UPD: to put the above in perspective, see this meta with graphs!

[chrissv4mp]

AND TELL ME WE WEREN'T JUST FRIENDS

THIS DOESN'T MAKE MUCH SENSE...

"Friends." — "Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear."

The cool air of night felt burning on your skin, the anger you held spilling over the brim. You couldn't believe you were having this conversation with Billie right now. You swear you saw things clearly. You know you read the signs correctly.

"Friends, that's all we are, Y/N." She breathes, never even sparing you a glance as she shifts her weight onto one foot and then the other. She couldn't bear looking at you, "Jus' wanted to clarify since—"

"Since it got a little too far and you said you loved me?" You scoff, squeezing your hands into fists and then releasing them. Every word that came out of her mouth since you got outside made you even angrier, "Yeah, okay, whatever you say."

Billie parts her lips to speak, but all that comes out is a small squeak of sadness or maybe anger? You couldn't even pinpoint it anymore. You didn't even know her. She felt like a completely different person. Like a stranger.

You barely knew the person you stood just a few feet away from. And, sure, you should've known when this whole "friends with benefits" situation began, but it just hit you hard each time she reminded you of it.

She's reminded you of your boundaries countless times before. Neither of you knew why you lashed out this time. Maybe you did. Maybe you were just tired. You were tired of not being able to kiss her publicly. You were tired of only being able to hold her hand behind closed doors. You were so fucking tired of not being able to call her yours.

"Stop—Fuck—Just stop, Y/N." She groans, inhaling sharply as she runs a hand through her hair. It was just as stressful for her as it was for you, but you didn't know that. You didn't know a lot of things about her.

Her eyes meet yours for a split second, but she just can't do it. She can't look at you and speak because if she does, she knows she'll spill her true feelings. And she can't do that. She can't. She can't. She can't.

"Stop what? You're acting like I'm crazy, Billie!" You all but yell, eyes wild and hair blowing in your face from the windy night. It feels like a scene from a movie. You wished it was because there would've been a happy ending.

"Because you are!" She yells, her eyes snapping to yours quicker than you can even process. You let out a short breath as she speaks, tears brimming in her eyes, "You are fucking insane thinking, for even a second, that I ever had actual interest in you!"

Push her away.

Push her so fucking far away she won't ever come back.

"God, you're crazy, Y/N!" She scoffs, a fake smile on her face as she tilts her head, "Haven't you seen the signs?" But the signs weren't of hatred. They were signs of actual love. She was contradicting herself just to push you away.

She had to push you away. She wasn't good for you. Her reputation was too much. She didn't want to hurt you. You'd leave her in the end, anyway. It was better she hurt you than millions of people on the internet. Right?

"Friends." She states, her voice shaky despite her efforts to stay strong, "Is that clear?" Her eyes move away from you again, and your heart breaks just that little bit more.

Tears streak down your cheeks as you sniffle. You just wanted the floor to open and swallow you whole. Embarrassment, sadness, anger—God—Every emotion ran through you. What were you supposed to say?

"Crystal clear." You utter, voice small and weak. Your knees felt like they would give out any second now, the ache in your chest hurting more than it should've.

It felt like the entire world was watching the situation unfold, but in reality, it was only Billie. But what was the difference, really? She was your entire world. She was. Was.

@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie

[alessiathepirate]

The Fate of the Furious

ALIVE: Deckard Shaw x fem!reader

Summary: She thought Deckard Shaw died - yet luckily he didn't. After joining the crew on the rooftop, he had some explaining to do.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

A quiet thank you for my friend who watched these movies with me during a movie night. I love you <3

Warnings: swearing, mentioned violence and death

•••

"Oh, this will be good." Roman said to Tej as he poked - or rather punched - his arm. Both of them looked at the scenario in front of them, suddenly forgetting about their bickering over Ramsey.

Perhaps if things went differently, they'd stop arguing to quietly laugh at Shaw carrying a baby - only silently, because they perefer living over dying. Shaw with a baby was something they couldn't imagine at all, yet the thing Roman pointed out wasn't the baby. No, it was Shaw himself, who clearly overestimated his self-worth if he showed up there after the stunt he pulled.

And just in time, the girl whose feelings were very obviously hurt because of the said stunt noticed Shaw's arrival - and she looked like she's seen a ghost.

"No way, man. I really don't want to see this." Tej answered unsurely, leaning back in his seat.

"You won't want to miss it either. She'll kick his ass, that's for sure." In no other scenario would Roman dare to say that - the guy might have super hearing or something.

And just like that, the show started.

"You dick!" the shouting was so loud everyone's gaze was on her, but then - after understanding the situation - they decided to look away, not wanting to become a target of her wrath. "You absolute fucking asshole!"

"Come on, sweetheart, don't curse in front of the-"

"Don't you act like you suddenly give a shit about someone!"

"Oh, he fucked up!" Roman laughed in his seat.

"He fucked up big time." Tej agreed, and it was very rare that they did.

"No way I'd be him right now..."

Her expression was a mixture of anger and hurt, and she very clearly didn't want anyone else there to intervene - no man would dare to either way and they wouldn't succeed in doing so without getting a punch to the face.

But Letty, understanding her feelings because she was the only one she had talked to about them, did her best to diffuse the situation - in front of the child at least.

"I'll take him, don't you worry." she took the infant seat from Shaw, who had the expression of betrayal on his face.

"Thanks for your help, now why don't you go and talk this out?" if Dom's voice was anything to go by, he secretly very much enjoyed seeing Shaw's face as his son, the safety blanket he could hide behind was taken from him.

"Yeah, why don't we go and talk this out, Shaw?"

Ramsey gasped behind them and Dom patted Shaw on the back, sending him the luck he'll need. Roman poked Tej on the arm again, Hobbs chuckled from not so far away.

Deckard Shaw must have fucked up big time - he himself knew that too. It's been months since she called him Shaw. He was never Shaw, only Deckard or maybe if he was lucky enough, Deck. But he was never ever Shaw.

"All right, let's talk this out, sweetheart."

She hugged herself with her arms, not giving him the opportunity to hold onto her hand. Deckard didn't try to do so though, he understood where the line was and he didn't want to overstep it.

They walked to the other side of the roof, away from their gazes and voices, and only then did her eyes start to water.

Deckard wasn't good at apologies, but even he knew that's the time for one. She's hurt and rightfully so, but he didn't mean to hurt her at all. God, he'd go to Hell and back for her and he knew she'd do the same - they knew more than a few things about the other and they liked the other even if they don't like many people.

But now she's sad and hurt - and angry, because of Deckard and he didn't know what he should do to make it better.

"Sweetheart, I-"

"No, don't you fucking sweetheart me." Sweetheart was the petname Deckard saved for her and didn't use it on anybody else. "I thought you died, do you know how that feels? I thought you fucking died!" she grabbed onto the railing to try and regain her strength. "Do you know that I cried for you? I fucking cried for you. I almost went after Dom by myself to hurt him like he hurt me and Dom is my friend!"

He put his hand on her shoulder and she let him, but she didn't look at him at all.

"And then you just call me to tell me everything is okay, I- I don't know what hurt more: that you didn't tell me or that you don't trust me enough to tell me stuff like that."

"I trust you. I trust you and I don't trust anybody else." Deckard touched both of her shoulders to turn her towards him.

He expected her to be angry or sad, he even expected a punch to the face, like when she playfully hit him after a way too bad one liner on a mission. But she didn't do any of that.

No, she was crying. And if Deckard was bad at apologies, then he was even worse at comforting crying women - especially someone he genuinely cares about.

"Why didn't you tell me not to worry?" her voice was high pitched, the kind Deckard hadn't heard before. She never cried. He hadn't seen her cry.

He made her cry.

"Because I needed her to believe it."

It was a poor excuse. He knew it - she knew it.

Yet it was still better than not saying anything or him just saying a 'fuck you'.

"So you're okay? Not even a small cut?" she asked looking at his face, trying to find some scars.

"You know me, sweetheart." he smiled and she was the only one who has ever seen him smile. "And I know you too, so if you'll punch me please tell me so I can get ready."

She chuckled. "Because?"

"Because your punches are really fucking strong."

That was the kind of compliment Deckard Shaw gave her, the kind only she recieved and no one else. And she smiled at that too, even if her eyes were still teary and the pain and fear didn't fully go away.

"I don't want to punch you."

"Really?" he had a suspicion that she really wanted to.

"Really. I just got you back and you want me to hurt you straight away?"

"I'd let you and I'd deserve it too."

He really meant that, she thought as she examined his face, trying to find some dishonesty. She couldn't find any - but to her surprise, his eyes were soft. There was some softness in there, the kind no one's ever seen, because they didn't deserve to see it.

"No, just..." she wiped away the tears and pushed his hands off her shoulders as she leaned against the railing. "I just want you to promise me that you'll tell me- the next time, because in a job like ours there will be a next time for sure."

"Yeah, I promise."

She smiled softly, her wrath slowly disappearing and tiredness took its place. She looked tired.

"You know, we never really talk about it, but just so you know, you mean a lot to me." she said quietly, as if she's confessing something she's not ready for yet. "And I mean it. I really do. No joke or anything."

"I know." he really knew, and he also knew that not many people would do that for him. "And I'd kill for you."

"I know, you already did." she chuckled. "And not even once."

"They deserved it."

"In your eyes everyone deserves to die who looks at us the wrong way." she said remembering all the times Deckard decided to pull out a gun to shoot someone who was unfriendly. "Actually, I'm surprised Hobbs is still with us."

"I promised to fight him one day."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised about that at all." she looked at the others who sat around the table talking. "You'd win."

"I know I would."

"But he'd kick your ass too. He asked me if I want him to do that after the stunt you pulled. I said I'd think about it."

"And what do you think?"

"You'd deserve it, but I'm leaning towards a no."

Deckard laughed and so did she. It was good to laugh with him again.

They stayed quiet after that. She didn't know what else to say or rather how she should talk about the things she should definitely talk about. She thought of the last few hours and days, how Letty was there for her after Deck's fake death - and what they talked about. How she regretted not telling him the things she wanted to.

"I didn't mean it like that." she spoke up after a while. "When I said you mean a lot to me." she had his full attention, she knew it and felt it in his gaze. "I meant that I think about you as more than a friend."

She continued to look at her friends again, watched as they laughed and talked. Dom had his son in his arms and Roman and Tej were arguing again. She focused on every small detail instead of looking Deck in the eyes.

"I know what you meant sweetheart. That's what I meant when I said I'd kill for you." she had to look at him when his hand was on hers. "I just can't let them see me as a softie, can I?"

He was teasing her and he was grinning, and in that moment for her he was the most lovable, playful asshole in the whole world.

"You dick!" she shouted with a laugh as she hit his arm and she felt the others' eyes on herself. "You come back from the dead and you act like this? I should let Hobbs kick your ass. Being soft with me is the least you can do to apologize."

"I knew you wanted to hit me."

She hit him on the arm again - this time the both of them were grinning like idiots and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Of course I do. This is the worst love confession I've ever seen."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way."

"That's right, I wouldn't. I'd be way too bored without you in my life."

This time he caught her arm before it could land and his hold on her wrist was gentle. That hand could kill and punch - and he looked damn good when he did that -, but it would never ever hurt her. Not intentionally.

They both leaned in to kiss the other - and they most likely argued about who had the balls to initiate the first kiss later. It was a great kiss, a damn good one. The one what's full of passion and emotion, the one that made her stomach tighten.

"I love you, you idiot, but if you act like you're dead in front of me ever again I--" he kissed her again to shut her up.

"I love you too."

"So much for not being a softie." she giggled as she hugged him, hiding her face from everyone - because she was grinning like an idiot in love.

"You won't let this one go, will you?"

"Not at all." she answered. "By the way, just so you know, Dom wasn't the only one who called your mother."

"You did not call my mother."

"I didn't want to punch you, but she'll definitely scold you for me."

She smirked as she saw his expression. "You're one evil woman."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way." she quoted.

On the other side of the roof the table was set a long time ago and everyone was waiting for the two of them to join in so they can start to eat. Although watching the drama before eating wasn't too bad either.

"You know, as much as I dislike him, I'm happy she's happy." Ramsey said after the pair kissed.

"I was right man, I really didn't want to see that." it was Tej's turn to poke Roman, who only stared at Deckard and her in disbelief.

"I expected more drama." Rome said with clear disappointment in his voice. "And why is she in love with the guy? What does he have that I don't?"

"Why don't you go ahead and tell that to him yourself. I'm sure he'd happily answer you with a punch." Tej teased him with a grin. "Go ahead boss, ask him."

"I hate you all..."

[dootznbootz]

LOVED the Vengeance saga, hated Calypso's song I'm sorry

**is being creepy and obsessive over a man who's clearly in distress and doesn't like her, as well as she ACTIVELY keeps him on her island for SEVEN YEARS against his will** "W-Well my love is just too much for you"

I get she didn't rape him in EPIC, but she was still terrible towards him and washing down to "her love was just too much for him" is a bit iffy to me :((

Honestly? I think "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" is actually fantastic in showing HOW Manipulative and selfish she is.

She's doing a "Woe is me" with her loneliness, she is still somewhat putting the "blame" on Odysseus with her "My love being too much for you, sorry that you can't handle it", when it's straight up not taking no for an answer, she even constantly speaks over Odysseus. Yeah, she's "not sorry".

Even with her beautiful voice, (wonderful job Barbara Wangui!) and sweet melody, it's like she IS supposed to be this "perfect paradise, song, goddess, etc."

What really bothers me is Epic Odysseus' "I love you...Just not in the way you want me to".

I think there either needs to be more apprehension in his voice when he says that. Maybe even in Calypso's tangent, he realizes "oh shit, she's making the island do shit. oh think quick to calm her down." and then having to say "Not in the way you want me to." to still make it clear that he's leaving.

I hope we get an explanation from Jay for his wording here? Because while Odysseus did appreciate Calypso helping him heal and recover from being at sea without food and water for a while AND most likely injuries in general, like...He Never loved her.

In some ways, I almost wish we got a bit more of the Odyssey for his answer. As Calypso, basically mocks Penelope and "why do you wanna go back to her? She will age and I won't. this place is perfect. I am perfect."

And then Odysseus being like "...You're an immortal goddess, ofc, she can't compare to you. She will age and go old. But I will stop at nothing to get back home. I've already been through so much shit, if it means going home, I can go through more."

[...] But if you only knew, down deep, what pains you’d stay right here, preside in our house with me and be immortal. Much as you long to see your wife, the one you pine for all your days … and yet I just might claim to be nothing less than she, neither in face nor figure. Hardly right, is it, for mortal woman to rival immortal goddess? How, in build? in beauty?” “Ah great goddess,” worldly Odysseus answered, “don’t be angry with me, please. All that you say is true, how well I know. Look at my wise Penelope. She falls far short of you, your beauty, stature. She is mortal after all and you, you never age or die … Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days— to travel home and see the dawn of my return. And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total— bring the trial on!”

(Book 5, Fagles)

Puttng in Fitzgerald's too because I wike it :3

"[...] If you could see it all, before you go -All the adversity you face at sea- you would stay here, and guard this house, and be immortal- though you've wanted her forever, that bride for whom you pine each day. Can I be less desirable than she is? Less interesting? Less beautiful? Can mortals compare with goddesses in grace and form?" To this the strategist Odysseus answered: "My lady goddess, here is no cause for anger. My quiet Penelope-- how well I know--would seem a shade before your majesty, death and old age being unknown to you, while she must die. Yet, it is true, each day I long for home, long for the sight of my home. If any god has marked me out again for shipwreck, my tough heart can undergo it. What hardship have I not long since endured at sea, in battle! Let the trial come."

Even his usage of just simply defending Penelope by saying "My Wise Penelope" and how he's still saying "Yep! You are a goddess! Penelope is mortal... I'm still going home!"

This is something I find interesting with Epic Odysseus on Ogygia: After he speaks of Penelope the first few times in "Love in Paradise". He doesn't really talk about her on Ogygia again. Even at the ending of "Love in Paradise", when he's about to "close his eyes", he doesn't speak of Penelope or anything. Which is like, his one driving force for living at this point, in the Odyssey and the Musical. He's just wracked by grief, when it's mostly the fact that he's fucking TRAPPED and can't leave to go HOME.

It makes me wonder if for Epic Odysseus, he is trying to not mention Penelope as much to keep Calypso's anger at bay. Especially when you think of how in the source material, Calypso mocks Penelope and he has to carefully word things to not anger her as a goddess yet still make it clear that he will leave. He wants to leave and he doesn't care if there's more shit he has to deal with. He has to try.

Or maybe it's a spell of some sort. idk. Especially as we have Odysseus once more singing about Penelope and how much he longs for her once he's off Ogygia. Just a thought :P

I almost get this weird vibe that Epic is making Circe more of a "villain" than Calypso (which yes. Circe did coerce Odysseus in the Odyssey and was trying to in Epic. I literally wrote a whole essay about it.) But like, in comparison, Circe in Epic is not nearly as bad as Calypso in Epic. Same in the Odyssey. Like Circe DOES eventually become an "ally" after Odysseus begs her to let him leave, Calypso had to be FORCED to let him go. IN BOTH EPIC AND THE ODYSSEY.

idk. funky feelings :/

[persefolli]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @myheartfollower, @laylasbunbunny, @destinyl, @deadgirl02, @sweetllamaparadise

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 (𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝)

You walked into Jake's office,  sitting a bag of jewels and beads on his table, ones he’d gift to you. “I'm done Jake. I need to do this now before it's too late.” 

Jake looked up at you from his map and scoffed. “Mhm. You said that last time. I'll see you tonight.”

“We're done.” You said more intensely, you heard the shakiness in your own voice.

“You're so pretty when you try to be intimidating.” Jake looked back down at the paper and ignored you.

“Okay.” You nodded. “You wait and see.” You stormed out of his home.

----

Jake waited and waited in your designated meeting spot for what felt like hours. He looked at his watch,  then back at the trees in front of him. You were never late, and if anything you knew how much he hated waiting. 

He stood from his spot and went walking back to the village, walking straight to your tree where you slept. “Have any of you seen Y/n?” He asked your roommates.

“We just said goodbye to her earlier.”

“Yeah she moved.” Another said nonchalantly.

Jake felt his insides hollow. Moved? No. Couldn't be.

He walked further into the room, seeing that your belongings and hammock were empty. 

Like a drunk, he stumbled out of the tree, holding his chest realizing you were serious. He laughed at you, knowing that he would see you later but you were serious this time.

Jake stormed back home, where Neytiri was cleaning up the dinner that he had once again missed. “Jake, you're back early.” She approached.

“Don't you fucking touch me.” He snapped.

Neytiri was taken aback, shocked at his sudden anger. “Jake, is there something-”

“Neytiri if I hear your fucking voice again I swear to god you won't get a good nights rest for days.”

His wife stood bamboozled, unknowing of what happened in the last hour or so that made Jake like this. He didn't even get this angry at her when they had to temporarily leave hometree. 

Anger lodged into the leader like a parasite in a fish. The yelling started, the glaring, and the silent treatments remained. Everyone fell victim to his tantrums, even his most- trusted warriors.

Rumor spread that he was angry at Neytiri, for what reason? Who knows? Others said the demon he once was, came back to punish him for turning his back on the other Sky People.

These rumors drove Neytiri insane. She tried everything to make Jake happier, changing her hairstyle, her clothes, initiating alone time, even making him hold Neteyam for hours at a time to at least soothe his soul. But Jake remained a shell. He didn't even look towards Neytiri, and when he held his son his eyes fell grim.

At night Neytiri lay awake next to her husband, thinking. Any signs or any hints about what upset him,  because clearly this was bigger than her and their son. Then her mind went back to her lingering thoughts she had months ago.

The late night returns, the random scratches on his back, nicks all over his body, and the underlying scent of another woman.

“Jake.” 

He sat hunched over, holding Neteyam in his arms feeding him. He was silent, but his ears flinched up at the sound of Neytiri's voice.

“She left, didn't she?”

Jake snapped his head to look at his wife, but his face remained deadpan. Neytiri let out a frustrated groan and crossed her arms. “What has she provided all this time that you can’t even offer me the time of day?”

“Everything.” He finally spoke. “Everything she is, you are not.”

His jabs didn’t phase her much anymore, but it still hurt her to know that although his mistress left him, and she stayed by his side, he still yearned for the other woman.

You heard little chatters of these rumors, having moved to the outskirts of the village, but you only listened silently with no comments. Jake had to regulate his emotions on his own.

You missed him so, not going a minute without thinking about him, his hands, his whispers.

It was ridiculous how much you thought of him, but being together caused more damage to the both of you, and your families. 

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Hello! I have a funny request, what if one of Kai’s(Overhaul’s) subordinates walked in on him and y/n doing the…devils tango?

(Also you don’t have to write this topic if your uncomfortable)

Who the fuck does he think he is?! Some kind of God?!

Those were the only words that practically echoed inside Kendo Rappa's head as he huffed and stomped over the halls much like a feral animal.

Usually no one would care about the male's behavior or mood since practically Rappa was an ass most of the times. But apparently the source of his anger was once again Overhaul.

Much like any other day, Rappa demanded a match out of the dark haired male and again lost... miserably. It didn't even lasted one minute since Chisaki seemed kind of like in a hurry for something, and that pissed of Rappa even more.

It pissed him off so much that he was leaving the underground of the house to track Overhaul again to demand a proper rematch, since the asshole wasn't even looking at him when he had the nerves to kill him... again.

"Rappa, I always say how stupid you are, but have you lost your God damn mind?" It was so rare for Tengai to use those kinds of words that even Rappa stopped a bit to actually listen to the more rational and calm man "Master Overhaul already had a rematch with you today, just let it be-"

"The hell he didn't." He growled "The fucker wouldn't even let me finish my sentence and was already using his damn quirk on me, that ain't even a fight! And that asshole just left like nothing happened."

"I consider you more than a idiot then" Tengai hissed as both got up to the main floor, Rappa almost stomping his feet on his way to Overhaul's usual office.

He was so out of it that he didn't even listened to hushed groans and moans....

"LISTEN HERE YOU DAMN FU-" the man almost kicked the door open but soon shut his mouth pretty quick at the scene displayed in front of him.

His "boss" with his back turned towards, neck visible and filled with hickeys, gloves and shirt no where to be seen, scratches all over his back like he was attacked by some cat, it could be seen thanks by the light of room how sweaty, yes, the mysophobic sweating, he was... at least he had his pants on.. he thought... while you, overhaul's partner, sat on the the desk with legs wrapped tightly on Chisaki's waist and nails almost piercing through the male's flesh, your face was flushed and lips parted, eyes wide open in horror shock as you locked gazes with Rappa, hips immediately stopping from meeting with Chisaki as you shrieked.

Oh... and to Rappa's even more embarrassment.. you had your shirt on the damn floor.

"Fuck." He could only mutter that, he could feel his own cheeks almost burning up at the lewd scene in front of him.. clearly he caught his boss fucking.

But soon his embarrassment was changed to fear. Deep fear.

Overhaul immediately stopped moving, slowly moving his arm far enough to grab his shirt to cover your modesty... until he only turned one side of his face towards Rappa... it was one of the most terrifying death stares Kendo had ever saw on his God damn life. It seemed like all the light was drained out of Chisaki's face as his one eye almost sended the poor subordinate to a place worst than hell.

That side glare was enough to leave Rappa a shivering mess before he slammed the door close and got his ass out of there before he could be killed more than twice that day.

.

.

.

"Rappa, where the fuck were you these past two days?!" Mimic yelled at the man as Rappa groaned.

"Trying not to die."

"What?" Mimic arched an eyebrow before Rappa sat down with a heavy sigh and a hand covering half of his face before he put his mask on

"... I walked in when Overhoe was in the middle of a fuck." Rappa muttered which left Mimic widening his and shrieked. "Shut up. I didn't come here for two days in hopes he would calm down enough to not torture me."

"Shit man, sorry but I think that won't happen." Mimic spoke while patting Rappa's back

"Why?"

"Because for these past two days overhaul has been wanting to... talk... with you. And he still wants to..."

"Shit."

Soon a door slammed open while both man jumped at the sudden sound, Rappa could only gulp thick air when he heard (Y/n)'s begging for him to calm down.

Kai was now glaring at him the same way he did two days ago, now with a mask but he swore he could see at least three veins popping on Overhaul's head.

"Rappa." Was the only growl that left Chisaki's mouth before blood was spilled once again in the whole room.

He really should have stayed with his mouth shut that day....

[gerryrigged]

dicktim - La Beau Au Bois Dormant

idea gripping my tired brain by the throat about Tim being struck by some kind of sleeping beauty poison or spell and falling comatose.

Except the solution is not True Love's Kiss but sending someone inside his soul to battle the dragon that will manifest from his inner demons to keep him imprisoned, forever.

The highest chance for success necessitates sending in the one person that the sleeper trusts most - often their love, hence the poison/spell's reputation, but not always.

And almost everyone immediately turns to Dick, like in you go, Nightwing, what are you waiting for.

Which Dick. Doesn't know how to react to, because. God he would give anything to be that person for Tim again. But he knows that he broke something between them when he stripped away Robin.

They've moved past it, they're...fine. But Dick knows. It's not the same. They aren't the same.

He can't help Tim with this. Tim probably wouldn't even want him to try. And that kills him, but he won't sabotage Tim's only shot to wake up because of his own desperate wish to still be the one Tim turns to first. His north star.

There's a ticking-clock time limit before Tim won't be able to wake up at all. They don't have any time to lose.

He looks away from everyone's expectant, demanding stares.

"Call Superboy," he says, voice scraped raw from his throat. "Or Kid Flash. They'll get here in time."

He can't stand the disappointment on Bruce's face. It makes helpless anger boil hot and toxic in his belly. Bruce wasn't here for everything that happened. He doesn't know.

(Dick's never told him. How badly he fucked up.)

"Wait, not his boyfriend?'" Steph says, raised eyebrows and gesticulating at nowhere in particular and Dick's churning thoughts sputter and die into frozen blankness. Boyfriend?

Babs shakes her head on the Batcomputer's view screen.

"They're not at that level of trust yet. They haven't even been dating that long, Tim definitely hasn't told him about - " she twirls a finger, indicating all of them. Red Robin on the medical bed, cowl pushed down and cape pooled around him. The Cave, vaulting overhead. " - all of this. And he won't thank us for doing it for him."

Tim...has a boyfriend?

Wow. His little brother used to always want his advice on love. Life. Everything. If he doesn't trust Dick enough anymore to tell him even that much... Well. It just proves definitively that Dick isn't the right person for this job.

(It hurts like Dick's vital organs are being crushed in a massive fist.)

"Time is ticking," Jason Blood says quietly, looking down at the open face of his pocket watch. At his feet, a circle of lit candles awaits someone to sit down inside and sink into an enchanted meditation.

"Father, clearly it should be you," Damian says, tapping his foot rapidly. His arms are crossed tightly under his cape in a way that he probably means to come across as scornful, rather than apprehensive. "Or Pennyworth, even."

Bruce shakes his head, troubled. "No. I don't think so. Cassie...?"

"No," Cass responds calmly. "Not me." She seems untroubled by her own denial, even though she and Tim have been thick as thieves ever since she returned to Gotham.

She's looking at Dick. She hasn't looked away from Dick this whole time, or let go of Tim's hand, folded in hers protectively, over his heart.

"It's still you, big brother," she says. Gentle and direct and devastating. "Go. Bring him back."

Not so long ago, Tim trusted Dick to catch him when he fell.

Or, he was depressed and passively suicidal and telling Dick what he wanted to hear. Maybe he even believed it, after the fact.

In the end, it doesn't matter. He's Dick's brother. Dick will always, always be there to catch him, whether Tim trusts him to or not.

Dick goes.

He faces Tim, sinks into lotus inside the ring of flickering little flames, and closes his eyes, heart in his throat.

He opens his eyes. A vast, jagged bramble forest looms dark above him. Far in the distance, he can just make out a spindly tower piercing the sky, a flickering little light shining at the top.

He hacks his way through the biting brambles of Tim's resentments, leaving blood and sorrows dripping from the thorns in his wake.

He fights the sly, sinuous dragon of Tim's despair, singing with every breath that he can spare, so that Tim might hear him and know he's not alone.

He wishes he could remember happy songs, bright and lively songs - wishes he could be the light in the darkness that Tim deserves, that he looked up to and chased after and for some reason tried to model himself upon, even when he was already so very bright himself.

But any song is better than none to pierce the lonely vault of silence, so he sings of pain, of loss, of faith and faithlessness. Of holding on past the point of breaking. He sings of two hands open and outstretched, waiting to be clasped and held.

When his voice falters, when adamant scales break his sword and claws shatter his shield, he throws himself at the winged serpent, letting it coil about him and grappling it in turn. Fangs strike at him again and again, piercing flesh and armor both, before he winds his arms around its jaws and holds them shut.

It hisses through clenched teeth about failures, his and Tim's both. He holds its jaws shut, and sings of two ships tossed in a maelstrom, anchored to each other, weathering the storm.

It hisses, venom dripping from its furious curled lips, about abandonment and betrayal. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about two robins, flying with an olive branch held aloft between them.

It hisses to him of ice unending, frozen hearts, shattered trust. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about the steady radiating warmth of a hearth, of a hug, of a new dawn. Of new beginnings.

He rests his forehead on the dragon's growling snout, and sings, "Come home with me. Come home to me. Tim, I love you. Tim, Tim, Tim."

The beast shudders and shivers. And starts to break apart.

The crumbling wings buffet and beat at Dick even as they begin to crack and collapse. Dick lowers his head and holds on tighter.

The massive coiled tail squeezes around Dick convulsively, thrashing and withering. Dick's ribs crack, but he holds on tighter.

Scales etched with Tim's regrets flake off and fall away, like a tree shedding razor edged leaves in autumn. Dick closes his eyes as they kiss and cut his already tattered skin, but just holds on tighter.

Eventually, the violent disintegration comes to an end, and all goes still and quiet.

Save for a familiar shape shaking and weeping in Dick's arms.

Dick opens his eyes, blinking away sweat and blood just to be sure. But yes. It's him. Blue eyes reddened with tears, staring in horror at the ragged torn-up mess of his older brother, come to rescue him.

"Tim," Dick sighs, bones papier-mâché from relief. And exhaustion. "Timmy. Thank god."

"Dick," Tim cries out, gripping him tightly in distress. He lets go immediately at Dick's wince, and tries to pull away. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm - your wounds, we have to - "

Dick doesn't let him move an inch. "Shhhhhh," he breathes. "It's a dream, don't worry about it." Tim wriggles in protest at first, determinedly attempting to staunch some of the heavier bleeding, but Dick just holds him tighter. "Please, Timmy," he begs. "Please. Just let me."

Tim's breath hitches, then he wraps his arms around Dick just as hard as Dick is squeezing him, strong and anchoring. Dick's own breath shudders on the edge of a whine, and he buries his nose in Tim's hair.

-----

"Missed you," he whispers hoarsely, several minutes later.

Tim lifts his face from where he's been leaking a silent wet spot into Dick's collarbone.

"Missed you, too," he whispers back, as if they're sharing secrets and might be overheard.

Then Tim hesitates, before setting his mouth firmly. He meets Dick's gaze, and there's a fierce light in his still reddened eyes that transfixes Dick. He almost lost this. He almost lost Tim - so many times, more than he probably even knows about. He never wants to look away.

"And I love you, too, you know. That's never changed. It never will change." His brow is furrowed intently, gaze searching Dick's, like he can find and burn away any hint of doubt or disbelief.

"I know," Dick murmurs, warm down to his battered toes. Tim's alive. Tim's going to wake up, and keep living. Tim loves him, and forgives him, and still trusts him more than anyone else. "I do know. I - "

He releases one arm from its death grip, because he can no longer resist the urge to cup Tim's face, stroke a thumb across his cheek. Tim closes his eyes briefly as he covers Dick's hand with his, leaning into it, brows still drawn together. Like he's in pain, even though all the dings and scratches are on Dick, not him.

Dick's heart seizes.

He dips down, to the impossibly inviting bow of Tim's mouth, and kisses him. At Tim's small, quiet gasp, he gentles further, catching Tim's lips, pulling the full lower curve between his own in a soft tug. To his delight, Tim follows him, chasing his mouth, and they share the sweet cling and press, back and forth.

-----

Dick's wounds are somehow all still present upon waking. Magic, ugh, such a pain. The resulting frenzy of medical attention and getting bundled into another bed - too far away from Tim - like he's one foot through death's door isn't exactly fun, either.

(But still. Well worth it, for that first moment Tim's eyes flutter open and hazily lock on his. The world can keep spinning, now that Dick knows Tim is safe.)

As it turns out, Tim's recollection of what happened inside his own soul is equally hazy.

He remembers enough to melt bonelessly into Dick's chest when Dick sneaks over to share his bed, which dissolves the hard knot of worried tension in Dick's chest that he wouldn't remember anything, that he'd be back to subtle distance and awkward texts and not even feeling comfortable enough to share that he likes men, and Dick. Isn't sure he could have handled that.

So he ignores his aching ribs and multiple lacerations and puncture wounds and curls around Tim with his whole body, warmth and gratitude suffusing every aching muscle.

Tim...doesn't seem to remember the kiss. Which. Is a shame.

But Dick remembers it. Every moment is burned into him like the most intimate pyrography. That will have to be enough, until he can make it happen again.

(Tim's boyfriend doesn't stand a chance.)

[happyk44]

Do you have anymore of this written? Annabeth's way of helping Percy actually making it worse until he runs away and finally gets a taste of peace elsewhere? I love it so much.

https://www.tumblr.com/happyk44/749307578218053632?source=share

Pretty sure I've written something (or a couple somethings) similar to that piece before. It's a concept I really like. One of my first "Percy runs away to the Nome" pieces points out that Annabeth has been kind of preparing for the inherent trauma in being a demigod under the thumb of not so helpful gods her whole life compared to Percy who was thrown into it at random and retains a lot of bitterness over it versus passive acceptance the way Jason and Annabeth have kind of grown up to. Yeah, she has her beef with Hera but like. More or less, it's kind of "that's just how the gods are" with her and Percy is very much "well they should be fucking better".

I think that with her having known she was a demigod since she was a little kid, the difficulties she went through in getting to camp with Thalia, Grover and Luke, Thalia's sacrifice and seemingly having been holding onto the possibility of war at least since she was 12 and Percy came flailing into her life and into the prophecy - she's just able to compartmentalize her pains better than Percy who we know suffers more aptly with emotional regulation and anger issues. Whether she processes them in a healthy manner through this or represses, represses, represses is up to you, but I can see it being her default, and subsequently she gets very stressed out about Percy not being able to do the same thing.

Also people just process trauma differently and Annabeth gets very headstrong and stubborn about being right and that her way of doing things is superior (which is. like. one of the reasons I lowkey wanted to add her to the cluster B roster because imo her fatal flaw would fit NPD so well, but unfortunately I don't think enough of the diagnostic criteria suits her so RIP). So her way of handling trauma not working for Percy doesn't make sense to her, or the fact that Percy is still clearly having problems even if he pretends otherwise just makes her feel like he's not trying hard enough to get over it, so she starts pushing in ways that don't help because she's Annabeth and she knows how Percy works and she can map his way through this and if he would just try, then it would work (except they don't and they won't).

I've also mentioned before that Annabeth strikes me as someone who gets so beholden to her ideas and plans that any deviation from that plan (even if not well-thought out) is Not Allowed, and no matter how obvious the solution (change course, make other decisions, break-up and stay friends), she is extremely reluctant to do so. In Tartarus, she clung to the idea of her and Percy making it out alive and safe and moving to New Rome and being happy and going to college and growing old together and now, faced with the reality that the goal is likely unattainable (I really don't see Percy moving to California for college of all things, like let's be real) or facing some hitches (Percy's depression and self-isolation negates the whole happy and healthy thing), she gets further into her head about him not being able to get with the program.

So she tells him how to fix himself. He can't do it because her methods don't work for him like they work for her. She gets mad because there's no improvement from him and she doesn't know what else to try because she's exahusted all the options that Make Sense and Will Help Him and her way of doing things is right so he must be doing something wrong or not trying at all. He starts to withdraw from her because Percy doesn't really instigate fights and he's angry and unhealthy and doesn't want to hurt his girlfriend, and she gets mad because that's not how this is supposed to work, and they argue and the cycle just continues over and over and over again unti he's gone.

Personally I can write Percy disappearing in a bunch of ways. He fakes it until he realizes he can't make it and no one notices. He fakes it and people notice but they can't get him to open up about it. He suffers obviously but no one knows how to help him and he refuses to communicate. It will always culimaniate in him turning to isolation, turning to self-harm, turning to suicide, turning to whispering Carter's name like a desperate lifeline because if he kills himself Grover might die and his mom might be sad (he doesn't know, Estelle is there and she's good and she's normal and it's fine, his mom doesn't really need him, does she?) and Annabeth would probably be mad at him.

And if he calls out for Carter and he doesn't come or he doesn't care, well, then at least he can say he tried getting help, right? He didn't give up right away. He tried.

(Carter will always come and always offer the Nome as sanctuary and Percy will always accept it, even if he freaks the fuck out when they get there)

[captianprices40thson]

They'll be chaos on the rails when the railway strikes.

Ghost x M!reader x Soap.

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: ANGST!!, blood, descriptions of bones breaking, icky gross torture (only a small bit) memory loss, Ghost won't stop cracking jokes, canon-typical violence.

Based on the prompt by @happylighttraveler. You can find it here: Request!

Reader uses He/him pronouns, Y/N is used to refer to the reader, second person POV.

(Oh my god!! I had so much fun writing this!! Please, request more stuff for me!)

Right! Lets get into it!!

“What are you talking about?” “I said you’re staying here!” You and Soap were arguing about the newest mission assigned to the task force, clearly having opposing views. You knew that you weren’t the most experienced with the terrorist, but neither was Soap. In fact, none of you really had a clue what you were doing when faced with the threat that was Vladmir Makarov, apart from Price but, well…he was Price. Ever since you were injured on your last mission and had to spend a week recovering, Ghost and Soap had been extra protective of you despite your protests.

“I have just as much of a right to go as you or anyone else does.” You argued, but Soap had made it clear he wasn’t listening. He shut his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in order to stop himself from exploding. He wanted to yell, to sit you down and tell you that you were a liability to the mission, that you couldn’t handle it…but he couldn't. He loved you too much to even burden you with those thoughts, but someone else didn’t have a problem with it.

“Soap’s right. You’re staying here.” Ghost spoke up from the corner of the room that he had been hiding in. He stood in the shadows a lot, something you had gotten used to in your time knowing him. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes showed no emotion, as they always did. It had been hard learning to read Ghost, hell, you still couldn’t properly distinguish from mild anger and mild disgust.

“Riley-” Your protest was cut off by him holding up his hand, instinctually shutting your mouth at his motion. You knew better than to argue with your superior, it still angered you though. Your face scrunched up in disapproval, but you kept your yap shut tight in case you said anything you regretted.

“Y/N, It’s too risky for you to go. Your leg hasn’t fully healed yet and we have no idea how it’ll react to the environment. Price has already taken you off of the assignment. You’re staying here and leading us through behind the monitor. Is that clear?” Ghost stated, walking over to where you and Soap were standing, his steps were small compared to his usual stride, but that was probably because the room was so small. The two men were standing in a line in front of you, like a triangle was formed and you were the point. 

Neither Ghost nor Soap wanted to do this to you, they knew how much you enjoyed the missions you went on with them, but they loved you too much to wager your safety in an unfamiliar environment. Ghost wasn’t afraid to use his position to threaten you and Soap didn’t mind backing Ghost up on that. The Scotsman was a bit more hesitant to be mean to you than the Brit, but it didn’t matter. You were staying here and that was final.

After fighting yourself internally, you clenched your fists and looked down, giving a small nod. You knew that they were just trying to protect you, but you still hated it. You weren’t a child in need of protection, you were an adult that could handle yourself, but you couldn't risk being court marshalled…again.

“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” Ghost added on, brushing his shoulder up against Soap’s in order to tell him it was time to go in a non verbal matter. Soap nodded and took one better look at you, before following Ghost out of the room, leaving you there alone. There were a million thoughts rushing through your head, none that you could quite pinpoint. There was sadness, anger, betrayal, understanding…and fear. Fear that without you, your team wouldn’t make it back. Or maybe, they’d do everything without you and you’d be left alone without them.

You couldn’t quite understand what you were feeling…but you were hurt.

So when a week or so later, when the team had left and arrived at their destination, you couldn't help but groan and lay your head on the table as you heard their chatter over the radio.

“Y/N, do you have us going?” Price’s voice cackled in over the radio and you looked up at the monitors. You had the amazing view of Ghost’s chest cam that was half-obscured by the snow falling everywhere. You gathered yourself and responded, looking over at the radio you had on your desk. It was a clever thing, you didn’t need to press a button to communicate, it just picked up any noise from your end and put it through to their walkie talkies without you having to even move.

“I’ve got you, Captain.” You responded, trying to make your voice sound less tired and annoyed than you were. You could see Soap walk in front of Ghost’s camera and give a little wave, knowing you were there and trying to cheer you up. You couldn’t help but grin, seeing his stupid smile that he wore proudly. But now was no time for smiles, because you knew they had a very important mission at hand. Finding and taking down Vladmir Makarov. It was a capture or kill mission, so everyone was a little nervous. You could see Gaz do a little jig and adjust his hat as he walked alongside Price, kicking the thick snow on the ground in order to move. For a moment, you were grateful you weren’t there and wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle that is thick snow.

But that moment passed and you realised you wished to be with them. You were alone in the base, the silence was painful. You were always used to hearing a scream from Soap that somehow always had something to do with Scotland, or Gaz and Price acting like a father and son. Ghost was always quiet, but you always knew that he was there. You were the guys, a team, a squad!…and now it was just one of you.

Watching as the team made their way into the base, you made sure to check over the detailed map of the area, letting them know when to turn and when to check for guards and other enemies. It was halfway into the mission where you felt a sense of unease in your stomach, like something was off.

“Y/N, are you still with us?” You heard Soap’s voice over the radio and brought yourself back to reality. You still couldn’t shake off that feeling that something was wrong…very wrong.

“I’m here. Is everything alright over there?” You asked, your voice unsure and trembling. You could only hope that everything was okay on their end and that it was all in your head, but even with Gaz’s reassurance that they were all fine on their end, something was wrong…very wrong.

“We’re breaching his office now, this ends here.” Price announced to you and the rest of the task force, his thick British accent making him sound more confident in himself than he actually was at the moment.  You spun around in your chair, looking over the room you were in as clearly, they did not need you anymore. You looked up at the security camera in the corner, thinking to yourself. That’s probably what was wrong, they had been meaning to change the batteries in the cameras, even from there you could see the light flickering and trying it’s best to continue working. In a way, kind of like yourself.

“Y/N, we’ve got a problem.” Price’s voice called out and you turned around to see the monitor on your screen. They were all standing in an office type area, the one that had been marked to be Makarov’s office. Confusion took over you as you realised why Price had a problem.

“Where’s Makarov?” You asked, raising the question that everyone else had been thinking. You watched Ghost move around the room, along with everyone else. Price and Gaz had left the room in order to go search the halls, which was probably a stupid idea to split off from the soldier who was carrying the only man who knew the instructions around the place, but they did it anyway.

“Y/N, can you look back through your feed? Can you see if we missed something?” Soap asked, his Scottish accent making his words a bit hard to understand to the average person, but handing around the man so often, you had learned how to understand his jibber-jabber. You moved the mouse over to the side of your video, trying to see if that was something you could do. Still, the feeling of unease was there and bigger than ever. It felt like someone was right behind him ready to kill him, that’s how bad it was.

“I honestly don’t know how to do that. I-I’d have to end the recording on the tape, so I wouldn’t be able to see you guys. I don’t think I can help you guys here. Could you go get P-” Your speech was cut off by a slam against your head, sending you to the floor and off your chair. You hit the floor with a thud, yelling out of instinct. Your vision was blurry, but you still managed to look up and make out the figure looming over you.

Makarov.

You tried to get up or even just move away, but a boot slammed down to your chest prevented you from moving. You heard the cracks of several ribs breaking, blood collecting in your throat as the pain coursed through your body. You yelled out in pain, but were quickly stopped by him placing a rag of sorts against your mouth. Your tear-filled eyes cleared and you could see his face just a couple inches away from yours, his heterochromic eyes staring into yours. You could see several more soldiers surrounding you two and you realised you were completely and utterly screwed.

“Jesus…these are the people that Price is working with. You were so easy to sneak up on, honestly.” Makarov commented, moving his foot that wasn’t on your chest to your right wrist, pressing down on it hard so that you would be in too much pain to even try and make a move with your left. Your heart stopped as you realised that this man was an actual terrorist and you were in actual trouble. You shivered as he bent down, grabbing your chin and inspecting you like you were a brand new toy that he was to play with.

“I can work with this.” He smiled, before moving his hand to the back of your head. He moved his boots off of your chest and wrist and you breathed a sigh of relief, before he raised your head and slammed it into the floor. You let out a cry of pain that was only mildly muffled by the rag as you felt your nose break, before Makarov took a step backwards and slammed his foot down on your neck, causing your voice to be temporarily restricted and your breathing to become a difficult task..

You could hear Soap and Ghost’s yells over the radio as they heard you being attacked, which filled you with a bit of hope…before Makarov hissed something in Russian that you couldn’t quite make out and the man closest to the two of you took the radio and slammed it on the floor, stomping his foot on it for good measure. You watched the pieces scatter, some of it landing close to you and cutting your skin. You would cry��but you could feel Makarov’s grip on your head get tighter and the thought of him slamming your head into the cold concrete floor again wouldn’t end well for you.

You could only watch as the blood from your injuries created a pool under you, some of it coming from your chest, others from the cuts on your arm or the blood pooling from your head injury. You could feel your breathing get shallower and your eyes close as the realm of unconsciousness took you into its surprisingly warm arms. You could swear that you were dying, that this was it…this was how you died.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Soap and Ghost were freaking out as their only connection to you was cut off unexpectedly and they were pretty sure you were dead. They looked over to one another, Soap with tears in his eyes, Ghost with his own being wider than anyone had ever seen them before.

“Price! Gaz! D-Did you-” Soap called out to the duo, before the two rushed back into the room, both with frantic looks on their faces. The rest of the team had seen this look on Price before…it was the look of pure fear and panic.

“We heard. It was Makarov. He’s not here. He’s there and I’m pretty sure he…he just killed Y/N. We have to go now.” Price ordered, looking over at the group of frightened men in front of him. He had to shut off his emotions in that moment in order to remain strong and lead the team, but his team couldn’t do the same. He could see the pure fear in their faces that they hadn’t seen in their darkest moments. Ghost carefully placed his hand on Soap’s shoulder, trying to be the stronger one out of the two. He gave a nod to Price, who nodded back and turned so he could lead the group out of there.

It was harder to leave without your help, meaning they ran into a few more enemies and a few more bullets no longer lay in their magazines. Soap’s head was rushing with thoughts, tears streaming down his face blurring his vision. He had Ghost’s hand on his shoulder to guide him as they ran through the thick snow. Even when they loaded into the emergency helicopter, he had Ghost to help him in and hold his shoulder tight..

Getting back to base was scary and they all tried to prepare themselves for the worst. They didn’t know what they were going to find when they got back. Soap was utterly terrified that you were dead and when they entered the room they’d find Makarov standing over your dead body, but then again it was a long while till they’d be back and he doubted Makarov would stay just to see their reactions…but his brain couldn’t be convinced that whatever would happen would be otherwise.

Meanwhile, Ghost couldn’t help but blame himself. It was his idea for you to stay behind in the first place. He was the one that convinced Price and the rest of the team that you were in no condition to fight…and they had all agreed. He was to blame. He was the one that let Makarov find and murder you…this was his fault.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours, I’ve notified Laswell and told her to get the closest possible people to rush over to our base and figure out the situation. I’m sorry for leading you guys into a dead end.” Price told the base, shutting the door that separated the pilot from the rest of the crew. He strutted to the back of the helicopter, where everyone was sitting. Ghost and Soap next to each other, Gaz sitting with his head down opposite them. Price sat down next to Gaz and put his hand on his shoulder as a father would.

“It’s not your fault, Price. You couldn’t have known, none of us would’ve. We were told he was there, everyone thought he was.” Ghost responded, keeping it together a bit better than Soap was. Inside, he was screaming. He was screaming because you might be dead. He heard the slams, the screams, the unmistakable sound of bones breaking…if you didn’t die from that then you’d die from not getting medical attention.

“I know but…we’ll figure out what happened when we get back.” Price ended the conversation, not wanting to focus on the fact that he had been misled and had put not only you, but his team in danger. He felt like a failure of a captain, unable to even keep his team alive and safe for a minute.

When they arrived back at base, they basically rushed in. The other team that was close by and able, The Rat’s Nest, was already at the scene. Their leader, Captain Darryl ‘Aragon’ Wilson, was there and ready to walk Price and the rest of the team through the scene.

“We ran in here, the windows were broken and the doors had their locks taken off. But…we couldn’t find either of the men Laswell had described. We only found…” Darryl trailed off as they entered the room you were previously working in, letting it speak for itself. 

There was blood on the floor, so much blood. The chair you were sitting on was laying on the floor in the corner, clearly having taken a hit or two. They could see the smashed radio on the floor, some of the blood that was presumably yours had surrounded the outsides of it, making Soap cringe out of disgust and distaste. There was a short blood trail that looked like somebody had been dragged in the liquid all the way to the door, before it stopped. Ghost looked over in the corner to see the security camera, its light no longer blinking.

“Have we checked the camera?” He asked, his thick British accent hiding the desperation trying to claw out of it. He was terrified, they all were. Darryl looked over into the corner, shaking his head. He crossed his arms, looking down at Ghost from where he was standing.

“We just assumed it was dead and wouldn’t have anything useful. Do you reckon it’s worth checking?” He asked, crossing his arms, his face showing interest and curiosity. Soap nodded, turning over to the two Captains who were blocking a concerned Gaz from the Scot’s vision.

“It's worth a shot.” Soap confirmed what the nod meant, hoping his thick scottish accent covered his shaky voice, but he knew it didn't. Ghost looked over to Soap, knowing he was scared. Who wouldn’t be? This was the man they loved who had been possibly murdered by the man they hated and feared most in the world.

When the usb was placed into the projector, fast forwarded to a couple hours earlier and pressed play, the team hitched their breath as they watched the scene. They watched you spin around in your chair, begin talking to Soap and Ghost before being slammed in the head by a very aggressive Makarov that had snuck in through the door on the side of the room.

The recording cut off with you on the ground, bleeding and still. And when they played it over and over for some sense of closure that you were alright…it was the same every time. You, on the floor, not moving, not even breathing. Soap could feel the tears in his eyes as he and everyone else in the squad realised what had happened.

Makarov had murdered you

And there was nothing they could do about it other than hunt the bastard down and murder him in the name of you.

1868 days, not that they were counting or anything.

Who were they kidding…they were counting. Every single day without you was agony for every single one of them, but it was especially hard on Ghost and Soap. Price and Gaz had noticed how much they missed you, it impacted their performance and Soap had to even be sent home after punching a recruit that mentioned you. Ghost took leave to stay with Soap, not wanting the man he loved to be alone to grieve the man they lost. Every single time a new mission was announced and assigned to them, they begged it to be going after Makarov. Hell, the whole team wanted it to be going after Makarov, you were important to all of them.

“What’s this?” Ghost asked, looking down at the file that Price had placed down in their briefing room. Price had a smile on his face, meaning only one thing. The captain took a moment before explaining the mission.

“One of Makarov’s allies, Konrad Geilen, was tracked down to an abandoned trading base in the south of Germany, just west of Schwarzwald. We believe that he’s got some pretty good ideas on where Makarov is hiding out. Therefore, if we find Konrad…”

“We find Makarov.” Soap finished Price’s sentence for him. Price gave him a smile and a finger gun, indicating that he was correct. The amount of relief that flowed through the other three members of the task force was bigger than any wave on earth. They had waited too long to get revenge for you, and now was their opportunity to do what they had been waiting for.

“When do we head out?” Gaz asked, ready to get this show on the road.

“What time is it now?” Price responded and the rest of the Task Force grinned like teenage girls that had just been looked at by their crush. Even Ghost, although you couldn’t see it from behind the mask.

“I have a mission for you.” 

Two days earlier, Makarov had walked into your room and explained what he wanted you to do. See, in the three years that you had been taken hostage by the man…everything had changed. The days he spent torturing you for information turned into weeks, then months. Then after you broke into a shell of a man you once were, Makarov used it to his advantage and took the opportunity to create you into the perfect soldier, something the 141 would never see coming.

“I’ve just put out a fake, a diversion by the name of Konrad Gielien. He’s an old friend of mine named Henning Mesyats that owes me a favour or two. He’s been set out as…bait for Price and his men to take. And that’s where you come in.” Makarov explained, walking over to you and sitting next to you on his designated chair. You took in his words, nodding and taking the information in. Stuff was a bit hard for you to remember, mainly because of all the memories wiped from your mind but there was probably another reason that you believed in.

“Your job is to find Price and the 141 and whilst they’re distracted by moy khoroshiy drug Henning, you murder each and every one of them. Don’t stop until their bodies are mangled and unrecognisable…got it?” Makarov continued, looking at you when he was done explaining to make sure you understood. When you gave him a nod back, he smiled and patted your shoulder, getting up and walking to the door.

“Tomorrow…you leave tomorrow morning to make sure you get there before them.” He instructed, knowing you wouldn’t sleep in, that’s not how he made you. That’s not how he designed you, sleeping in or doing anything remotely human was…unheard of from you. He hated to admit it, but at times even Makarov himself found it a bit weird. He understood that he had done this to you, deprived you of yourself, your personality, even your name and had turned you into some kind of…dog for him to own, yet it still bothered him a bit.

“Alright, Gaz and I’ll go round the back. Soap and Ghost, take the front. We’ll meet up on the rooftop after clearing the building and finding Konrad or if we are unable to locate him. Remember, this is a capture mission.” Price instructed as they left the helicopter, watching it retreat back to its home of the air after they had given the signal to the pilot.

“Remind me of what he looks like again? Don’t want to capture a random soldier and confuse him for a friend of Makarov’s.” Soap asked, before being elbowed in the stomach by Ghost who couldn’t be bothered to even look at him. He clutched his chest, giving the Brit a ‘what was that?’ look. Ghost didn’t look back at him, keeping eye contact with Price.

“Soap…he’s the only guy there. This building is abandoned, he’s using it as a hideout. If there is someone else there, you’ll know it isn't him…also I told you what he looked like.” Price reminded him, an exasperated expression on his face. Ghost smiled under the mask and Soap now knew why he was so brutally elbowed.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…this is for Y/N.” Gaz reminded them all and they all serioused up. Gaz was right…this mission was about getting revenge for the man that not only were they all teammates with, but the man Gaz knew like a brother, Price had a bond with like a son and the man Ghost and Soap loved. The whole squad nodded and began making their way through the rough terrain and over to the outsides of the abandoned building. Soap and Ghost watched Price and Gaz make their way to the other side of the building. They gave each other a look and walked inside, guns at the ready.

“See anyone, Lt?” Soap asked as they made their way through, checking through the different rooms and occasionally having to lift up their guns whenever they saw movement or a shadow, but it was either their own shadow or a rat that had gotten accustomed to living there.

“No, just a bunch of really outdated guns and a stupid amount of blankets. Speaking of, why did the soldier bring a blanket into an active battle zone?” Ghost asked and Soap sighed as he realised Ghost was making another dad joke. His refusal to reply just meant Ghost finished it on his own.

“Because he needed cover.” Ghost joked and Soap backed out into the hallway where they were standing. He gave his lieutenant a disapproving look, watching as his eyes crinkled from the smile behind his mask.

“Seriously, Ghost. If I was your superior, I’d have court marshalled you by now.” Soap groaned as they walked forward. Just as Ghost was about to make another remark that would probably make Soap want to shoot him, they both heard the sounds of boots hitting the floor. Someone was running…and they both knew it wasn’t Price or Gaz.

The two ran out to the main area and out of the hall, into the main storage area and the duo could see how big it actually was. The roof must have been as tall as fifteen Ghost’s stacked on top of eachother, which is a really funny image if you think about it long enough. They both followed the footsteps to a figure running on a walkway that they could get to by accessing some stairs. Ghost nodded to Soap, who nodded back and practically bolted up those stairs, desperate to get to the person.

As Soap ran, Ghost took the other stairs in order to corner the man they saw sprinting. He pushed himself up and made his way around the corner, so now that they were all on the railings up above. Their eyes followed the figure, both rushing after him. They chased after him and fired a few bullets that he seemed to dodge effortlessly, before watching him run around the corner. Soap ran forward and around the corner to get to the man. Ghost waited outside the corner, gun at the ready incase the man managed to get by Soap.

He waited there for a moment, before hearing a yelp from Soap, his eyes widened as he figured out what that meant. It didn’t sound like he was in pain, more like he was shocked at something. Ghost shook his head and moved around the corner, being met with a sight that took a few moments to process.

Soap was on the floor, a gun pointed at his face being held by the man they were chasing. The man had placed a boot on Soap’s right hand and another on his left leg, the Scott’s gun laying on the floor a few feet away. Ghost’s eyes trailed up to the man pointing a gun at the man he loved, lifting up his own weapon in order to put a bullet through his shoulder and take him down without murdering him…but he stopped once he recognised who it was…

“Y/N?” He whispered, lowering the gun in realisation. Your head turned to him, still keeping your gun pointed at Soap’s head, your finger resting on the trigger. You studied Ghost’s mask, trying to figure out what he was going on about. Of course, you didn’t recognise who Y/N was…that wasn’t you anymore.

“You take one step further and your friend with the shitty haircut gets it.” You spat, pushing your gun further to Soap’s temple. They were both in shock, the man they had loved and had believed to be dead for five years…was right in front of them, brainwashed to not remember who he was or what he was…he was like some kind of winter soldier…with a weird russian accent.

“Y/N, stop. W-What…what happened to you?” Ghost whispered, placing his hands in the air. The shock was getting to him, the idea that you were ALIVE all this time and didn’t recognise neither him nor Soap…that hurt him deeper than anything anyone in his childhood could have done. When he saw you rest your finger against the trigger, he called out once more.

“Stop! My hands are in the air! I-I…What the fuck happened, Y/N?” Ghost exclaimed, his heart tearing in half and his British accent coming out stronger than he had intended. He couldn't even form a proper sentence without letting everyone that could hear him know he was going through something…something huge.

Meanwhile Soap was going through a crisis of his own, having the man he loved and had mourned for over FIVE YEARS pointing a gun right at his head and not even showing the slightest bit of hesitation at pulling the trigger. It was like he was a completely new person

And he probably was.

“You are going to listen to me, Ghost. You are going to close the door and place any and all guns or weapons you have on the floor…if you want to do it the easy way. The hard way is…much more uncivilised.” You told Ghost, your eyes staying on his. He felt a pang in his heart when you called him Ghost, because he was never Ghost to you. To you, he was Riley and on the odd occasion, Simon. But never Ghost.

Ghost looked down at Soap, both their eyes as wide as the others. Soap didn’t nod or shake his head at what he thought Ghost should do, it was up to the Brit to work it out. 

After a moment of contemplation, he slowly kneeled and placed all his weapons on the floor, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. Your eyes never left his, meaning that your peripheral vision was smaller…and you didn’t see the signal Ghost had motioned to Soap.

Kicks to the balls hurt, everyone knew that, and despite you being a brainwashed robot, Soap wasn’t going to do that to you. Instead, with his leg that you had left free, he chose to lift up and kick you in the knee, causing you to recoil back a bit, lifting your foot off of his hand, meaning he could grab the gun Ghost had pushed towards him.

So, it was you backed into a corner by the two men, both of whom holding guns and calling you by a name that triggered something in your brain. It felt familiar to you…yet so foreign at the same time. What was happening?

You didn’t have time for feelings right now, you told yourself, getting right back to the task at hand and pulling out your gun strapped to your thigh. You wasted no time in pulling it back and pressing the trigger, just narrowly missing Ghost’s shoulder. No…this wasn’t you. You never missed, never in your five years of shooting had you missed. What were they doing to you?

“That was a warning shot.” You hissed, trying to intimidate the two men from the position you were in. They both looked like they were going through the five stages of grief at the moment, it wasn’t hard to make them scared. The one with the skull, Ghost as you had been told to call him, was harder to read, his face hidden by the mask on his face.

“Y/N…What happened to you? How are you alive? W-Why are you fighting us?” The shorter one with the mohawk, Soap as he had been classified, stepped forward, gun pointing to your face. You moved your hand to go shoot him, but the bullet hitting the wall right behind your gun told you to stop.

“Who the fuck is Y/N?” You hissed, ready to tear off their limbs if they didn’t give you an answer, although you were going to do that anyways once you had them in a position similar to yours. They kept referring to you by that name…the one that inflicted such a strong emotion in you.

“Y…You’re Y/N. Don't you remember that…remember us?” Soap asked, walking closer. You could see the tears in his eyes, the look of pure despair on his face. He looked like everything he loved had been ripped out of his arms and been forced to watch die infront of him ten times over, and as far as the Scot knew, it had.

“No. I have no relation to either of you men, the only reason I would ever remember you two is seeing your faces on my wall of soldiers I’ve murdered.” You spat back, getting defensive. You couldn’t figure out why, but something in you told you that Soap was onto something.

You looked over towards Ghost, trying to scan him for any weak points, but his gun was still trained on your own and you decided it was best to not go for him at the moment. You quickly focused on both of them, trying to find your objective and directive.

That's when you were hit with something, nothing physical…but something about the situation and positions you were in had triggered something in you.

“Is that clear?” A voice spoke, it was blurry and distorted, but you knew deep down that you knew it. You moved your head, where were you? Everything was blurry, but there were two people in front of you. Their faces, whilst familiar, were blurred out, most everything was.

You looked down and clenched your fist, but it wasn’t you the one moving. You knew it was you…but this was a different version of you. You watched yourself nod, and the figures shuffled a bit.

“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” The taller figure spoke once more, that name reaching deep into your soul and finding something in you. Y/N…that was your name. You were Y/N. Those men in front of you…Soap and Ghost. N-No…Johnny and Riley. Your Johnny and your Riley…your boyfriends.

“Y/N?” The Scotsman's voice brought you back to reality, but you had changed. It had all rushed back to you, everything about you, what and who you had been, who you had loved…everything was back now. They both took small steps towards you, watching as you lowered your gun and looked up to the both of them with tears in your eyes. 

“Y/N…Are you…?” Soap asked, walking towards you. He noticed that you were no longer hostile, and instead were going through seven stages of grief yourself. That's how much distress you were in, there were now seven stages of grief just for you.

“I-I’m here…I’m alive and I’m back. I-I…oh god…what the fuck have I done?” You whispered, breaking down right then and there. The torture, the murder, everything you had been through the last five years; it was all coming back to you.

“Hey, hey we’re here and we’ve got you, alright?” The scotsman assured you, placing a gloved hand on your face and holding you close to him. Tears started to stream down his own face as he held you close. It wasn’t a moment later before you felt the weight of a 6’4 brit holding both of you close to him.

It was a nice moment, and you all wanted it to last forever, but that isn’t how life worked, because not long after the hug began, it ended just as quickly by Price contacting both the boys via radio.

“Ghost, Soap, we’ve got Konrad out the front. Where are you both?” His thick-accented voice came in through the radio, and not even words could describe how nice it was to hear it again. You looked up at the men you loved, tears still streaming down your face. Soap smiled and kissed your forehead, for both him and Ghost seeing as the taller male was unable to.

“We’re taking you home…alright?” Soap whispered and you nodded, holding him tight. Ghost smiled under the mask and held his radio in order to report back to Price.

“We’re solid, just in a room near the top, we’ll head over to you ASAP…and we’ve got a surprise for you both.”

(Soooooo how we feeling!??!?!) Honestly, such a great time writing this, and if you want to request something yourself, here's your place to see what I do! (anyone who got the fact that Daryll was a reference to DNDADS, I love you.) Take care, everyone!

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 40

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,106

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 40 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Mild Touching

Prev | Next

Shit. Maybe Hoseok is right. Maybe you did get sick because your nose won't stop running, your throat itches, and you've been sneezing. A lot. You didn't want this to ruin movie night so you tried your best to maintain the sniffles and sneeze as silently as you can. You even excused yourself to the bathroom to blow your nose to which Hoseok said he'll accompany you. You told him no but he still came and is waiting for you outside the locked door.

"Jesus fucking christ," you mumble after a sneeze.

There's a gentle knock on the door followed by Hoseok's worried words.

"Baby let me in. Please?"

Your nose feels stuffed and there's a whistling sound when you try to breathe through the stuffage.

"Just give me a minute." Your voice sounds nasally.

In response Hoseok jiggles the doorknob.

You sigh and roll your eyes but you let him in anyway lest he break the damn door down.

He has a worried look on as he goes to cup your face.

"Maybe you need something stronger than what I gave you." He's referring to the cold medicine.

"No," you say. "It's not going to work immediately, Hoseok. It's going to take some time."

"But still," he huffs. "It's like what I gave you just triggered you to get worse. I'll have the servants grab you something stronger."

You're about to tell him to forget about it but he leaves you to find some help.

You sigh and go back to find some toilet paper to blow your nose in. The noise you make as you blow your guts out into the paper sounds gross but it's not enough to clear the stuffed feeling in your sinuses.

"Are you okay?"

You jump at the sound of Taehyung's voice.

"Christ don't do that," you say.

He actually looks a bit sheepish when he apologizes.

Throwing away the toilet paper you grab more for yourself as you answer him.

"I'm fine, Taehyung. I just got a little sick."

"Ew."

Your brows furrow at the voice that clearly isn't Taehyung's. When you peek around the doorframe you see that it's Jimin.

You frown. "What are you doing here?"

His hackles seem to rise because his eyes widen in anger. "This is my house."

"It's our house." Taehyung says before directing his attention back to you. "He followed me because I wanted to see if you were okay."

"And clearly she's fine. Now let's get back to the movie."

"Where's Hoseok?"

Jimin stomps his foot when his brother doesn't follow him.

You throw your hand in the direction he left in. "He went to get some help. Wants them to find me something for the cold."

"So you're not okay," he says as a matter of fact.

"Not really Taehyung but I promise it's nothing bad. I'll get through this."

"Why is everyone out here?"

You look down the hall to see Seokjin.

You bring your hand to your temple and rub it. "Oh my god."

"She has a disease." Jimin grumbles.

"She has the cold." Hoseok corrects as he comes back.

"Oh." Seokjin walks up to join you all. "Did you give her anything for it?"

"I did." Hoseok says. "But I sent someone to grab something stronger."

"Ah."

"Is everything okay?"

All of you turn your head to see Namjoon as he walks over.

"She has gonorrhea." Jimin says.

"Y/N has a cold." Both Hoseok and Taehyung correct their brother at the same time.

"How are you feeling?" Namjoon questions as he goes to place the back of his hand against your forehead. "You're warm."

"No shit."

"Jimin shut up." Hoseok chides.

You sigh out loud. "I'm fine. It's just a little cold. Nothing I can't handle."

"Everything okay?"

Every single head in the hall turns towards Yoongi that comes waltzing over.

You're clearly feeling irritated but also worried. "Guys come on. Jungkook wanted you all together for a movie night and you're over here checking up on me. He's going to be pissed."

Yoongi throws a thumb over his shoulder. "Jungkook fell asleep about 30 minutes ago."

You throw a look of disbelief his way. Wasn't this all Jungkook's idea. To have a movie night? Now he's asleep and his brothers are in the hallway bothering you.

You weren't expecting your night to take this kind of a turn.

"Look," you start. "I'm sick but it's not a big deal. Someone will bring me something for the cold and I'll be fine. Just go back to watching the movie. Jungkook may be asleep right now but when he wakes up he might get upset if none of you are in there with him."

Yoongi hums. "You're right." He looks at his brothers. "Everyone done here?"

Seokjin shrugs while Hoseok runs his fingers through your hair in comfort.

"I've been done." Jimin grumbles.

He grabs Taehyung by the arm and tugs him along despite his brother clearly wanting to stay. Seokjin follows behind them without a word and you're left with Namjoon, Yoongi and, of course, Hoseok.

"I hope you feel better, Y/N." Namjoon smiles and it warms your heart. "Can't have you missing our quality time together."

You huff a laugh. "I know."

Yoongi looks between you two as he tongues his cheek. It's unnerving how much he stares. To the point that you have to smile his way to get a different reaction from him.

He gives that halfway smile before patting Namjoon's back.

"We should get going. Leave these two alone."

There's a slight tug he makes on Namjoon's arm. When the tallest of the brothers looks down at him his brows furrow because Yoongi is giving him a certain look.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Namjoon nods as he's dragged away and you're a little worried. Yoongi seemed pretty hellbent on talking to him alone. He actually leads him to the playroom but you doubt they're in the rumbling theater room.

"Hey."

You look over to Hoseok who smiles.

Before either of you can say anything more a servant approaches the two of you with a call to Hoseok by his title.

"My Lord," he says.

Hoseok angles his body to the servant who bows to him.

"We have this for colds." He presents two bottles. "This one is for daytime and the other nighttime. The latter will make her sleepy so I think it's best the Lady takes it when it's time to sleep."

You're not unfamiliar with these types of medicines. Having taken them a time or two before when you used to work. You're sure Hoseok isn't unfamiliar with them either but he thanks the servant nonetheless and sends him on his way.

When he turns to you he hands you the daytime medicine with a smile.

"Take this for now. I'll give you the other one later."

Without a second to waste you open the bottle and pour the liquid into the little cup it comes with. You take the medicine and grimace at the taste but you know it's something you just have to deal with. Hoseok smiles when you lock eyes but you hurriedly look away and go to wash the cup.

He leans against the doorframe waiting for you to finish. When the rushing water comes to a close he stretches his hand out for you to take. You ignore it though and hold the medicine with two hands. It doesn't deter him though because he comes over to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

"It's almost time to eat. Once the movie is over we can head to the dining room."

You make a face to which he coos at.

"Would you prefer if we have the food sent upstairs? We can do that. So you can rest."

To be honest that sounds a lot better than sitting in front of everyone while you're sneezing and coughing. You think the brothers would prefer you not attend with them anyway because of how sick you are so you nod.

"Okay." Hoseok chirps. "We'll do that then. Let's head upstairs."

"What about the movie?"

"I think it's best we get you to bed. Jungkook would understand."

You guess so, you guess not. Jungkook is an unpredictable character just like Hoseok. You never know what's going on with him until he speaks out loud and even then you don't entirely know. He's blunt. That's for sure. Outside of that he's mysterious.

Once you're inside the room you practically collapse onto the bed. Hoseok chuckles as he takes the medicine from you and places it on your nightstand along with the one he held.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you more comfortable."

He slips your slippers off and helps you get under the covers. Curling up you rub the side of your face into your pillow and sigh. The coolness of it feels good and you relish in the feel of it.

Hoseok makes a call to have the food to be sent upstairs and hangs up soon after.

"That's done. Is there anything you need before I lay down?"

You think on it and there's only one thought that comes to mind.

You purse your lips before biting the bottom one. The thought you have is if he'd give you another hit. You'd appreciate it really. You know he's already given you the high you crave but you hope he'd be willing to give it to you again.

"Y/N?"

You look up at him and he raises a brow.

"Um," you start. You curl up further before looking off towards the side. "I was wondering if, if you could give it to me again."

His brows furrow. "Give what?"

He's utterly confused and you're not helping with your cryptic message.

"I was hoping you would give your saliva... again."

Realization graces his face as he goes to sit down on the bed.

You're a little too embarrassed to lock eyes with him so you look away. He's not having it though because he crawls over to hover over you.

"Hey," he says. "Look at me."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute. You're nervous and you know he knows it.

His hand comes up to your chin so he can angle your head towards him. With it comes your eyes shifting over until you're looking directly at him. He smiles though it barely reaches his eyes.

"I would but you're sick. I think it's best that I just let you rest."

You frown. That's not at all what you wanted to hear.

"What does me being sick have to do with anything?"

Hoseok releases you and sits back. His smile never leaves his face even though he can clearly see the annoyance on yours.

"What you need is to rest."

"But it wouldn't hurt me if you gave me what I want."

To this he sighs. "Y/N."

"Hoseok," you bite back.

His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare. "Don't," he says. "Remember what you promised me."

Your hand comes up to rub your eyes before covering them with your arm.

You're feeling frustrated.

"Did you think that because I gave it to you earlier that I would later give it to you again?"

You did think that and right now with him making it sound like you're out of your mind - it leaves you feeling upset.

Hoseok sighs deeply. "Y/N," he calls to you but you don't respond. "Y/N. Hey."

He grabs your arm to remove it from over your eyes but when he does you're not looking his way.

"Y/N." He tries again but before he can say anything further you mumble.

"You made me this way. You know that?"

Silence fills the room. His grip on your arm tightens making you wince. When you look at him he looks upset.

"Hoseok. You're hurting me."

He releases you without a problem but the frown on his face doesn't leave.

"Maybe I did make you this way," he says through clenched teeth. "But don't hold it over my head. Do you understand me?"

You swallow in discomfort.

You don't know why you weren't expecting him to get upset with you but you didn't. It shocks you a bit and it makes you a little shy as you shift your eyes away from him. He isn't having it though because he says your name in a strong commanding voice that makes you flinch.

"I asked you a question."

You lick your lips. "I understand." A pause before you tack on these final words. "I'm sorry."

His expression softens at your apology before he huffs and looks off to the side.

You wonder what's going on in that head of his. Is he still upset? Is he disappointed? Is he realizing you're not the one for him? You can only hope and dream that last one but that's all it'll ever be. Hopes and dreams.

"After we eat."

You look over to him in mild confusion until it hits you what he means.

"For real," you ask.

He looks over to you and no longer does he appear annoyed.

"For real," he says.

You're going to get what you want. That's all that matters to you now. You sigh in relief and he catches it.

"Thank you for apologizing."

Your brows furrow the slightest bit before you look away. You only did that because you wanted him off your back. For your sake.

You shrug your shoulders in response.

Hoseok's body comes to rest on his side with his arm keeping him perched up. His hand comes up so he can brush his thumb over your cheek to which you let him. It's one of those gentle touches he does that you don't mind too much but it still makes you a little uncomfortable.

"What wouldn't I do for you? Honestly."

You don't know how to respond so you keep quiet.

It's like this for a little bit. Him looking down at you as he caresses you and, of course, you're stuck in your head. You're far away from here. Your mind is far from his reach and you worry just a little bit that he'll go back on his word and control you again. But he doesn't do it and for that you are grateful.

After a while there's a knock on his door and you know that it's the food. You sit up quickly not because you're hungry but because of what comes after. If Hoseok knows that's why you look positively excited to eat he doesn't say. He's just happy to see you wanting to eat.

The trays of food are given to you and you both rest them on the bed. Your legs are crossed as are Hoseok's and you're left to eat with the servants leaving the room.

"Here." Hoseok says.

You look at him to see he's holding up some rice to try and feed to you. You frown as you pull your head back.

He pouts. "Why don't you let me feed you?"

Is he actually pouting over this? You try not to roll your eyes before you speak.

"I don't know. It's just embarrassing."

His head tilts a little. "Why would you be embarrassed? I just want to take care of you. There's nothing wrong with that."

You sigh. "I just don't like being babied."

He brings the rice down back into its bowl before turning to you. His hand comes up to the back of your neck where he rubs it gently.

"I get you don't like it but I want to pamper you. Treat you like the queen that you are. You mean everything to me and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

These declarations of love are always too much for you but you know he won't listen when you tell him to stop. Look how he is now and all because you won't let him feed you.

Hoseok grabs the rice again with his utensils and brings it up to your lips.

"Please?"

You sigh deeply and avert your eyes as you open your mouth. You don't see how wide his smile grows at this. He's absolutely elated to be feeding you while you feel a warmth coat your cheeks and ears due to embarrassment.

Closing your mouth you chew the rice that tastes like misery. Before you can even fully swallow the whole thing he brings a piece of meat up to your lips. You look towards him to see he's looking at you expectantly. He's smiling happily and how badly do you want to erase it from his face, but then you remember something.

He's going to give you your high after you're done eating. What if he changes his mind and all because you snapped at him? Because you wouldn't let him feed you? It's a thought that makes you grind your teeth in irritation but you have to play it safe.

After swallowing the rice you open up for the meat. Hoseok's heart shaped smile is nearly blinding as you accept his offering.

"Good girl," he says in a whisper.

You don't know if he was actually planning for you to hear it or not but either way you did.

He keeps feeding you in between the mouthfuls he takes himself. At some point after finishing his food he switches from his bowls to yours and feeds you again. You're starting to feel full and turn your head away when he brings up some kimchi.

"Come on, my love. Just one more bite."

"I can't. I'm going to feel sick if I have another bite."

It's already bad enough you're dealing with the cold. You don't want to feel nausea on top of that.

Hoseok brings the kimchi back to your bowl on your tray and chuckles.

"You're right. Let's not force it. You've eaten quite a lot at least." He smiles. "Any room for dessert?"

You groan to which he laughs.

"I'm kidding. We don't even have dessert here." He stands up and grabs his tray. "Let me just set these out real quick."

And he does. Both your and his tray are waiting outside the door for someone to pick them up. When he's done he dusts his hands as if they were dirty before coming over to his side of the bed where he kneels down before you.

You slip further under the covers and rest your head on your pillow. You feel absolutely stuffed. It's unknown how many mouthfuls of food you had but you know that it was more than enough.

"You were very good." Hoseok says.

Your eyes shift to him to see he's biting his bottom lip. He looks over the moon because you let him feed you. Like he said, he just wanted to pamper you but you're not used to it and you sure as hell didn't like it.

Hoseok crawls over to you before kneeling back down. His knees are pressed up against your arm and he brings a hand up to your face to cup gently.

"Thank you for letting me have this. I know you don't like it so I won't expect this from you every time but once in a while let me have my way."

That's the thing. He always has his way. No matter if you like it or not.

"And so I'll give you want you want." He leans his head closer to yours. "Open up and stick your tongue out for me."

You know what he means and you happily part your lips for him.

There's a smirk on his lips before he procures a wad of saliva that slowly descends from his mouth to yours. It lands on your tongue and slides down until it reaches the back of your throat where you swallow it.

From the moment it hit your tongue you felt it. The real reason why you're here. What started it all for you. The high. You can never have enough of it. It's intoxicating.

Hoseok pulls back to watch the way your body reacts to his saliva. You see him - feel him as he caresses your cheek. Your eyes close in bliss and you just let the feeling take over you completely.

How could you explain this feeling to someone who's never felt something like this before? There's not enough words in the vocabulary for you to express this feeling. You just know it makes you feel good. Like you're above and beyond everything and everyone. Untouchable. Elated. Enraptured.

You angle your head so that you can rub the side of your face into Hoseok's hand. You can hear him giggle at your action but you don't care. You're enjoying this too much.

You feel Hoseok straddle your waist and you would open your eyes to see what he's doing but you don't dare open them. His hand moves so his thumb can rub against your lips. He applies a bit of pressure to which you react by parting them slightly. You hear him huff a laugh before he slips the digit into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue laves over the pad of his thumb and he gives a half hearted moan. One made more out of interest rather than pleasure.

"You look so pretty like this," he says.

Your eyes open and you swear you see a halo over his head. Maybe you're losing it because of the high or maybe it's the ceiling light up above his head. Either way you see it and for a moment the devil looks like an angel. That's what he started off as anyway.

Hoseok slips his thumb out and watches as you lick your lips. His hands come to rest on either side of your head as he tilts his own in silent wonder.

The high is still running strong but you're interrupted by an unexpected sneeze. Right. You're sick. It makes Hoseok jump at the sudden sound before he begins to laugh. It has to be the high because you laugh along with him though it's more airy.

"I should probably bring you some tissues. I'll bring over the little trash bin from the bathroom too."

He sits up straight before climbing off to grab you the things you need. You sigh at the loss of contact and blink a few times. You think the high might be wearing off now but you don't want it to leave you. Will Hoseok give it to you again if you ask? Probably not. Unless you do something for him.

You can't believe you're thinking this with a semi sane mind.

When Hoseok comes back he places a box of tissue paper on your nightstand and the bin from the bathroom by your side of the bed. He's unsuspecting and so it catches him by surprise when you sit up and tug him forward by his pants.

"What," he asks.

You rest yourself on your knees and reach a hand out to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down towards you while your other hand finds his cock through his pants.

He gives a surprised sound as your lips come together and there's a slight bit of hesitation before he reciprocates your kiss.

It's smooth sailing up until this point because he doesn't part his lips despite you running the tip of your tongue against the seam of them. You can feel the way he hardens in your hand and he moans but he ultimately pulls back and stills your hand with a hold to your wrist.

"We can't," he says.

Why couldn't you? You're starting to feel a little too sober for this.

"Why not," you ask.

Hoseok smiles as he removes your hands from him.

"As much as I would love to continue - you're sick. You should be resting."

You frown. "But it didn't stop us from doing what we did in the shower."

"Yeah but you weren't sneezing and coughing like you are now."

You know he's right but it frustrates you. Couldn't he have just ignored it and let you get what you want? Even when you're playing your cards right do you still not get your way.

Hoseok helps ease you back down beneath the covers that he brings up to your chin.

"We can pick this up another time. For now just rest."

You sigh but acquiesce to him.

To fill the silence in the room he turns on the TV. This turns out to be a boring night in where you're feeling gross and Hoseok is tucked in by your side. Your plan failed and you have nothing to make this cold a bit more bearable.

You weren't expecting him to deny you. It was a bit surprising to be honest. You thought he'd go for it but Hoseok is always a step or two ahead of you. As always.

Besides the TV the occasional sniffle, cough and the sound of you blowing your nose fills the room. Hoseok had put on a movie from On Demand that you're half paying attention to. It's not that it's a bad movie but you're starting to get a headache because of how clogged your sinuses are. At some point Hoseok maneuvers over to you so he can check how warm you are. It makes him frown but he doesn't say anything about it. He just asks if you're thirsty to which you reply that no you aren't.

You're about midway through the movie which you only know because Hoseok pauses it and you're about to ask why when there's a knock on the door. Hoseok welcomes them in and when the door opens you're a little surprised to see that it's Taehyung. He has a little mug with him that he places on your bedside table with a smile.

"I brought you tea," he says. "Drink it while it's still warm."

You're sure your face says it all. You're astonished by his actions and it honestly warms your heart.

"Thank you," you say as you go to sit up.

Taehyung just continues to smile as you grab the cup of tea and blow it a little before taking a sip.

"How was the movie?" Hoseok asks. "Did Jungkook wake up?"

His brother hums with a nod. "The movie was good and Jungkook was a little disoriented. He didn't even notice you were missing. Jimin helped in taking him to bed."

It's Hoseok's turn to hum. "And what brings you here? Besides bringing Y/N some tea?"

Taehyung bites his bottom lip and twiddles his thumbs together. "I just wanted to make sure Y/N was okay." He directs his attention towards you. "How's the tea?"

You take another sip before bringing the cup down. "It's good. It's soothing my throat. Thank you again."

He nods his head along with a little bow.

You take your time with the tea as it's still too hot to drink in one go but while this happens Taehyung stays by your bed side. It doesn't go unnoticed by you or Hoseok who raises a brow his brother's way.

"Do you want to sit, Tae," he asks.

Taehyung's brows perk up and his lips part. "Oh um, it's okay. I'm just waiting for Y/N to be done so I can take the mug back downstairs."

Hoseok sends him a knowing look. "Taehyung sit down."

"Okay." Without resistance he comes to sit on the edge of the bed by your legs.

You smile at him and he smiles back.

If there's one thing you've learned about Taehyung it's that he's a little clingy. To you at least. You don't know how he really is with his brothers. He might be the same way with them but you haven't been able to witness it since you're almost always with either Hoseok or Namjoon. It brings forth a different feeling inside of you. You don't know what but maybe it's a protective feeling? He seems really sweet and you're so glad you don't have to witness the scarier side of him anymore.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you sneeze and reach for a tissue. When you tug it out you see it's the last one and point it out to Hoseok.

Your captor's brows raise for a moment before he sits up.

"I should have more in the bathroom. Give me a second."

He gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom leaving you alone with Taehyung who looks like he has something on his mind.

"You okay," you ask curiously.

Taehyung looks a little surprised but covers it with a shy smile. "Um it's nothing."

"You sure? You can tell me if you want." You don't want to push him if he doesn't want to talk about it.

He shakes his head softly and you swear you see his cheeks turn pink.

"It's just," he pauses. "I don't want to freak you out."

Your brows furrow. His response isn't what you were expecting and it honestly makes your pulse rise.

He seems to notice this and panics a bit. "It's nothing bad it's just that um... I've never had a girl friend before."

You tilt your head. "Girlfriend?"

"I mean like a friend who's a girl." He points to you then himself. "You're my first friend who's a girl." And like it needs clarification he continues on. "I've had a girlfriend before but it was more of a fling than anything deep. Outside of that it's just been men in my life. Both in friendship and love life."

You're a little surprised by his admission. Not that he's been with men but because you're his first friend that doesn't fit his usual criteria.

"Oh," you say. "So I'm the first? For real?"

He nods his head. "For real."

You take another sip from your tea though this time it's a little longer now that it's cooling off a bit.

What do you say to that? You don't know but right now it's like Taehyung is exposing you his heart and you have to be very careful with it. So you just nod your head and mutter the word "Cool."

To this his smile widens into a box shape that makes you smile yourself though it's a little more reserved.

"Cool," he says. "Sorry if it's weird. I just thought it was nice. For me at least."

That feeling of being protective of him resurfaces and it really surprises you. Who would have ever thought that you and Taehyung will be friends? That he'd admit this to you like it's some big secret? A secret he was so shy to admit. It makes your features soften and without a second thought you reach for his hand to hold.

He looks down at your hand for a second before tentatively placing his own on top. You give a little squeeze that he smiles to and squeezes back.

You don't know what you're doing. It just seemed right to do but you feel like you should stop.

All of this will come to an end some day. You're making friends with the enemy's family. Friends and a lover. The day you run out of Hoseok's life is the day this will all end and all you'll be left with is a family of vampires that will probably want to end you for hurting their Hoseok's heart. Everyone except for Namjoon who knows you want to escape. Namjoon who if his brothers find out what he's doing with you - you don't even want to think about what they'll do to him. These thoughts make you swallow deeply before you turn your attention to your tea that has cooled down enough for you to drink it all down.

You clear your throat before handing him the mug that he takes after letting go of your hand. He gives you one last look of that box shaped smile before he stands up to leave.

"I'll see you around then," he questions you.

You purse your lips with a nod. "See you around."

He smiles one last time before leaving the room. Leaving you alone with Hoseok who you notice is leaning against the doorframe to his closet with his arms crossed. He's smiling and it makes you frown.

"What," you ask.

He stands up straight and walks over to the bed to crawl on top of it and hands you a new box of tissues. You take it but before you can open it he leans over to gently hold your head so he can kiss your forehead.

"What," you ask again.

He releases you to get under the covers.

"Thank you," he says.

"For?"

"For being you. For being nice and getting along with my brothers. For everything."

You look down at the box in your hands and hastily open it. You take out a tissue and blow your nose ignoring the fact that Hoseok is thanking you for being nice to Taehyung. Your thoughts are a little jumbled right now with the fact that you know this all won't end well for you. It's a fact but would you rather be in a house with friends or enemies? Of course the former. It's just a little scary knowing how things will go once it's time.

Hoseok brings a hand up to rub your back and helps ease you down on the bed and into his side. You let him maneuver you how he sees fit as your mind is too busy fumbling around with facts you don't like. You can hear the way his heart beats beneath your ear. How it creates a lengthy rhythm compared to yours that's steady like a human's because that's what you are: a human among vampires. It's a scary thought.

He presses play on his remote and the room is filled with the sounds from the TV again. You try to drown out your thoughts with the movie. Take in word for word of what the characters on the screen are saying just so you can ignore what's going on through your head. It works for the most part. Especially when you start to grow a little tired. Hoseok notices the change in your breathing and wakes you up so you can take the nighttime cold medicine. It tastes bitter and you wish you had something to wash it down with. Hoseok takes the little cup with him to the bathroom to rinse out and smiles when he sees the way you're curling up in bed after he comes back. The movie is done and he switches the TV to some random show that's on. Something to keep him entertained while you're on the precipice of sleep.

It's when you're in a slightly delusional state due to the cold and the medicine do you ask Hoseok something.

"What happens if I-" Your words begin to slur.

Hoseok hums questioningly and turns on his side so he can face you.

"What happens with what, my love?"

You should stop where you're at but you're not yourself right now so you try again.

"What happens if I break your heart?"

You can feel the stillness even without being totally coherent.

Your eyes are closed and you can't bring yourself to open them. Maybe if you did you would have backtracked on that question.

"You won't," he says though his words are barely above a whisper.

"But what if I do?"

Hoseok sighs. "I don't know what's gotten into you but if were talking hypothetically," he pauses.

He stays silent for a moment too long and just when you think he won't speak he does.

"For whatever the reason may be I will never give up on you. I won't ever let you leave and I'll make sure we get through this. Together. Outside of that I know you won't even try and dare do that. Not if you know what's good for you." He leans over to place a kiss onto your forehead.

You don't realize it but a tear slips out and he wipes it away.

You're completely out of it now. Falling asleep so close to him. You don't hear, see nor feel the way he curls up closer to you. How he wraps an arm around you or how his lips stay pressed against your forehead. Nor how his eyes shift from left to right in worry nor how they gloss over with unshed tears. You don't see him the way he sees you.

[wanderingthroughsands]

III. Come not as you are but as you wish to be seen

I close my eyes then I drift away Into the magic night, I softly say A silent prayer like dreamers do Then I fall asleep to dream My dreams of you

- "In dreams" by Roy Orbison

I spent the next few days searching for information about the Dream Lord. Afternoons found me in the library, poring over every available mythology, seeking any clue that might help me confront him or at least hide from him—both in the waking world and in the Dreaming. Unfortunately, the more I learned, the greater my fear grew at the thought of our potential next meeting.

Lord Morpheus, as Matthew the Raven had called him several times during our talk, was an infinite being, divine almost, more powerful than any other entity in the universe. He had the ability to take on human form, perfectly mimicking our gestures and words. He gave and took away dreams, imprisoned and freed from nightmares. He rewarded and punished both mortals and gods alike. His existence and all his actions were centered around bringing hope—or depriving it from those who incurred his wrath.

Someone like me, one may say.

I also read extensively about the nature of nightmares. Where they come from and why, how they affect the body, and ways to prevent them. Most sources attributed their occurrence to stress and prolonged emotional tension. Carl Gustav Jung believed that nightmares never speak of what we already know, but of what we do not know or refuse to know. Megan Chance on the other hand, in her book „The Spiritualist”, wrote:

You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness.

Nightmares are also said to signal trauma, a painful experience from years past. Within their terrifying images, they carry a message in an unknown language. The author of one of the many articles on nightmares I had read summarized her reflections as follows:

"The mysterious god of dreams, Morpheus, is described in Greek mythology as a being endowed with exceptional wisdom and insight. So when he sends you a message, read it carefully."

I couldn't shake the memory of Dreamlord's deep gaze from my mind. I saw it in the raven that, despite my outburst of anger, watched me from afar every day, sometimes allowing himself to be seen on rooftops and in the treetops. I saw it in the shadows dancing among the falling autumn leaves, and sometimes I felt I saw it in the nightmares to which I fled from him each night. I was certain that Lord Morpheus was out there, waiting for me, and that he would inevitably find me if I let my guard down.

The day after my conversation with Matthew, I decided to send a short letter to Rose Walker. I found her publisher's address in Florida and, before bed, penned a few words to her. The next morning, I sent it off, hoping that someone who had clearly encountered the Lord of the Dreaming might help me prepare for a possible confrontation.

Rose,

You don't know who I am, but I believe we have a mutual acquaintance. During my journey through the Dreaming, I encountered Lord Morpheus and his raven, Matthew. The Dream Lord wants to capture me to destroy the power that allows me to awaken dreamers from their nightmares.

I know your book won't be published for another month, but if there are any relevant details within its pages, or if you possess any information that could help me, please, reach out to me. I'm leaving you my address and my phone number. I hope we can talk soon.

PS His eyes are as dark as night and as deep as the universe. If you have met him, you surely know what I mean.

"I can help you, but only if you let me."

That night, as in the previous few, I tried not to intervene in the nightmares within I hid. However, merely observing them proved to be incredibly hard to bear. People, as always, dreamed of traumas, fears, loneliness, and escapes, but this time I did not want to, I could not free them, because the threat mentioned by Dreamlord had taken too deep root in my consciousness. So I limited my actions to single images of death, as they evoked the most intense, overwhelming sensations in people. I allowed dreamers to break away from the loss of a child, a spouse, a close friend... and from the loss of their own lives.

"Help my brother instead! I beg you!" We stood by a pool, where a young Asian girl was desperately trying to retrieve the pale, drifting body of a small boy. Despair on her face mingled with terror as she shed tears into the large pool and reached out toward her brother, drifting farther and farther away.

"I cannot bring him back to life," I replied, kneeling beside her. "But I can bring you back to the waking world. Come with me."

"I won't leave him here! I will never leave him! Please, please, help him!"

"Your brother will be waiting for you beyond those doors," I touched her face and directed her towards the courtyard, where a gateway to awakening appeared next to a small, colorful slide. "He will be in the memories you cherish, in the photos you sometimes look at, in the places you both visited. What you see in this nightmare is not your brother. It is your pain. Your grief."

The girl froze for a moment, bestowing upon me a lingering gaze.

"Why did I have to lose him so soon..." she sobbed, her voice filled with agony as she suddenly became painfully aware of her loss. "If only I hadn’t let him go outside that day, if only I had stopped him..."

"There are so many things we would change in our lives if we had the chance. The death of that boy was not your fault; it was nobody’s fault. You don't have to torment yourself by constantly revisiting this nightmare. Come with me, I will help you wake up."

I guided her to the door and finally opened it for her. I expected that once she disappeared, the nightmare landscape she had created would vanish too—the suburban house and the slowly sinking body in the pool.

But as I felt fear creeping slowly up my spine, I realized that I had been found. And now, until dawn, I would have to run.

"You did not do what I asked of you," I heard behind me, but I had no intention of turning around. Focusing all my power within me, I pulled the handle and ran into another nightmare, and then another, and another—yet I still felt the coldness of his piercing gaze on my neck.

I opened another doors blindly, rushing through them without thought, passing countless scenarios of horror, pain, and suffering, unfolding in various buildings, on moorlands, in mountains, and within families from all over the world. Naively, I believed the Dream Lord would not be able to find me in the nightmares of others. I must have done different something today that draw his attention. I longed to escape, tried to wake up, but at the same time, I feared stopping, knowing he wouldn't hesitate for even a second. I mindlessly passed scenes of catastrophes, hell, destruction, separation, betrayal, running as fast as my power allowed me.

"Stop running," I heard Dreamlord behind me again, so I slammed another door shut. I didn't believe it would hold him back for long, but I had to survive until awakening.

In my situation, I had no other choice but to keep running.

"I told you to stop, Rebecca Surrey," this time his voice appeared almost right by my ear. Fear tightened my insides so much that I had trouble catching my breath. Dreamlord was following me step by step, and I wasn't sure when I would be able to wake up. I hoped that behind some door I would finally lose him — though deep down I knew that this night all my attempts would prove futile.

"I won't let you kill me, Dreamlord!" I shouted into the void, running further through countless nightmares. "You'll have to chase me here for eternity!"

"Matthew delivered your message to me," I heard before I slammed the next door. As I opened another, his voice came again: "I want to show you what will happen if your power is not restrained. Just. Stop."

I still can't explain what finally drove me towards Fiddler’s Green. Perhaps it was the futility of running, which I grew more aware of with every passing moment. Perhaps it was the fear of what might happen if I didn’t comply with his demand.

Or maybe it was the calmness in his words, their deep tone devoid of threat. The hint of a deal the Dream Lord wanted to present to me.

I stood amidst the endless greenery, with its tranquil waterfalls and valleys full of flowers, feeling for the first time in the realm of Dreams an exhaustion—not of the body, but of the turbulent emotions within me, exhaustion from fear and anticipation. I closed my eyes—not to wake up, but to sense his presence among the trees. Dreamlord approached me unhurriedly, just as he had during our first encounter here. The closer he got, the more intensely I felt his strange energy. I looked at his face framed by dark hair as he stopped in front of me with his hands clasped behind his back.

“You are a brave creature, Rebecca Surrey,” he said, capturing my gaze with his own. “Frustrating, but brave indeed.”

“If you try to kill me again, Dreamlord, I will flee to the waking world,” I clenched my fists, ready to wake up if he so much as flinched. “And I will keep running until you finally leave me alone.”

“You would not be safe in the waking world if I decided otherwise. Matthew accompanies you there for a reason. There are things happening that you clearly do not understand and will not understand until you see them for yourself.”

“I’m not destroying anything, Lord Morpheus. Since I met you here, I have not interfered with most of the nightmares I enter. I will no longer travel through the Dreaming, but I need you to promise that you will stop tormenting me in both your world and mine.”

He remained calm, inscrutable, but something changed in his features.

“Your world and mine are in equal danger because of what you do,” he took a step towards me so I immediately took a step back. “And I intend to show you this so that you will return to me of your own accord the following night. Your actions are affecting the people around you. With each journey through the Dreaming, even more so.”

“Affecting... how?”

“You will see it as soon as you wake up,” this time I didn’t step back when he moved closer. I had to lift my head to look at him, and for the second time, I saw that slight, joyless smile. I was convinced that he could easily capture me now, but surprisingly, the fear I had felt earlier had almost vanished. “I will be waiting for you here, within Fiddler’s Green. In the meantime, it seems you have a Nightmare to dispel. And this time, Rebecca Surrey, I will allow you to do it. But in your world.”

I suddenly opened my eyes only to find myself back in my own bed and immediately heard a scream coming from the next room.

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Hello, I hope this is okay for me to send. I'm one of the blogs you blocked. (First off, this is your good right, and I completely understand and I hope this isn't a breach or invasion of privacy to send this from a different blog)

I always made sure to only tag content of Nolanverse Crane when it's really him and not any other Cillian role because I understand the frustration. And like I said, I absolutely understand that he's not a proper Scarecrow in your eyes. But it kind of hurts to get lumped into a group where I don't feel like I belong (if that makes sense)

Scarecrow in general is my favorite character in any comic related media. Arkhamverse Crane and Audio Adventures are at the top for me, and I also have a deep love for Fear State and little fan interpretations where he's just a funky little freak. My blog is Nolanverse centric atm because I just haven't gotten around to writing fics for the others. (And I'm worried I won't write them well tbh)

But all of that aside, my reason for actually sending this was because I was genuinely missing your posts and opinions on my dash. I was honestly a little worried that I didn't see anything from you before I realized what happened.

This isn't me being angry or petty and please don't think I feel entitled to seeing your posts (I don't want to be THAT person)

I guess this is just me saying goodbye to a pillar of the Scarecrow fandom, and it makes me a little sad

From the bottom of my heart, I hope your mom's recovery goes well and you have a great rest of the day/week/month. And a happy early birthday, Moffy

(ALSO SORRY FOR THIS ESSAY OMG)

A couple of things </3

I THINK I knew who this is. I blocked one person after I made that post. Looking back, that was probably a stupid mistake. I'mma unblock to check when I post this, and you let me know? (I was thinking....oh god I'm gonna get hate from the fangirls and taht legit clouded my judgement. I still fear anon hate)

See, that post was mainly about people I blocked weeks/months ago. I often only block the fangirls, for lack of a better word. I actually made the Cillian post on a whim. I needed some content for the day. (you probably know I upload daily) And sometimes, a little anger is okay. it's a valid emotion. Again, the people I block are more fans of the actor than the character. My main complaint was seeing Cillian stuff, which was not from the movies, in the tag. It just sorta....clogs it up?

Anyway, I can clearly see you're not one of them. If some reason , within the next ten minutes, you're still blocked. Send me the url. I am human. I understand. Mistakes and stupid shit happens. (especially with all I am dealing with irl) (I've been so stressed I think it clouds my brain)

You clearly love the character behind the actor, and I respect that. I think you may have been following me, cus my count went down after I blocked ya. So yeah, I did think that was WEIRD.

I'm sorry if you felt lumped it, it was just an error on my part. I hope you can forgive that.

and ya know, just because I'm not a fan of nolancrane, doesn't mean it's bad. I should reiterate, it brought so many into the fandom. That's great! I still reblog fan content of him. I suppose, the truth of the matter is my autistic brain doesn't do "live action" -- I can't think of one human who could play Jonathan Crane to my expectations. Voice actors yes, Dino Andrade forever lmao

But I just...live of art/comic/animation/games

and anything else feels uncanny. Like now. I dont imagine Crane as a real person. I have no image inside my head unless it's a comic illustration or game render. I Hoooope that makes sense

[minalblood]

I'm back and I'm so sorry! I won't make any promises for the last 2 ep of the Winchesters, but I will be reviewing/rewatching them anyways just ... who knows when, I dont!

But let's get started on You've got a Friend 1x11.

I hopefully will be a bit less rambly since O have a draft of my thoughts already written for this and its less... as Im watching (i can post that too if yall wanna but dunno if ull understand my handwriting)

We begin where we left off and I love that we have this scene of them needing to clean up, adds realism, adds dimension to the world. Love also that we begin with Lata being the Lata we all love - dejected in this case about her chimera paw was ruined. Queue Carlos with the teasing. The 2 of em banter a bit before Mary redirects us all to the matter at hand.

And Mary has come a long way in these episodes, because she may not join the banter (still closed off somewhat as opposed to Carlos and Lata's easy repartee) but she is going off of it and adding them into her area of interest.

But all stops when John come in blood soaked and in shock - Mary instantly worried he might be hurt, but nope, not this time.

I am so happy to see them portray the actual shock and numbness John is feeling, then the guilt and sadness, just all the reaction to Kyle's death really. And considering the survivor's guilt John is lugging around, it makes it even more heartbreaking. I also love seeing that Mary is the level headed one here - she,.imo, is clearly pushing down the grief to focus on John's issues here, hell we see very little of her grieving in this episode and everytime we do, she's quick to redirect that feeling into action - sometimes into violence point blank. She does it here, asking what the Akrida could want, she does it even moreso with Millie, where she does open up a bit since Millie is offering comfort, but then it turns into Millie coming with a plan which directly leads to Mary wanting to storm the police station guns blazing and the ep ends with Mary and John discussing Kyle (also god Mary looks absolutely exhausted here, fuck) but Mary derails it by saying they need to find Dean instead. She's def not allowing herself the moment to deal with Kyle's death which may prove relevant when discussing next episode.

I'd forgotten this ep was the Lata episode. Like ep 8 was Carlos', this one is Lata's. And god does it hurt.

1st, move the feather boa, Carlos!

2nd, I do genuinely believe Lata and Maggie were together. Everything in this episode points that way to me (but especialy the sweetpea nickname) We'll round back to this though.

The other thing we note in the sequence in Maggie's room is how close Carlos and Lata are to each other. Which we knew, but I always love seeing it again in action.

Before we continue with the emotional core of this ep, we have to get back to plot with Betty! I love Betty..I also can't blame her for being ....hesitant to say the least. Like imagine what she's seen so far: the guy who, before leaving to the marines illegally, proposed to her, is suddently interacting with, apparently, imfamous Mary Campbell, who is seen at several murder/investigation scenes suddenly appears ro have killed someone? And she already knows John had anger issues before hand. Like i get her here. And still shes trying to be nice while doing her job.

Which leads me to the next part, her job. So the detective... he's wording (even with him being really Akrida) echoes a lot of corrupt cop rethoric which only gets further emphasized when he later threatens to have John... killed 'accidently'. And, on top of them, speaking pf policw corruption even a 'good cop' like Betty becomes complicit simply because of the power the Akrida gained via the detective role cuz she was unwittingly helping them throughout.

But god, was John a bit too cocky here. (My notes have this marked as "this is why you let villains monologue, John!"). Especially since he actually doesn't have any info on Dean. (Love that we see the pic of Dean, missed him) l.

Meanwhile Lata and Carlos have found the bracelet and it's fucked them over. Also, I fucking hate the shadows thing, very creepy. Also also it reminds me of the daeva that Meg uses in s1 of SPN. I'm also reminded of SPN with the story the detective tells John about how they'll get rid of him - SPN's own crooked cop ep featured exactly this sorta plan too, but in killing Dean.

Really though, the main thing I found interesting upon rewatch is just how much Lata is our Dean mirror in this one. Specifically, in getting targeted by the bracelet she's forced to relive a trauma (Sania's death) via Carlos acting as substitute, only this time she succeeds where prior she thought she failed (which lemme make clear, no, Lata was at no point and in no way at fault, but she did internalize that guilt - much like Dean tends to internalize guilt) . Which Dean, much like Lata ends up doing when getting involved with this universe, ends up reliving a trauma (his parents death - Mary especially) of something he failed, in his mind, to prevent/save via rescuing this universe's Mary. And much like Lata, who can't undo what happened to Sania, but can "begin to make it better" (the Hey Jude line just hit me so I had to use it), so too can Dean. It won't change what happened in his life, wont save his mom, but it will help him heal nonetheless.

Adding to this Maggie? Who opperates as a Cas parallel here - she was Lata's person, who shared everything with Lata but Lata couldn't in turn for fear of judgement/shame, who notably is dead and thus Lata can't ever reveal her secret to. Well, it hurts is what it does.

But watching this I noticed another interesting thing though, for all that the bracelet seems to work like Osiris (pulling on the guilt the person feels is most agregious), the bracelet actually seems to want the wearer to get out. Carlos is taken just as Lata begins wondering which secret it's trying to make her face and is sent to Sania's room - direct answer. Then later,.even more blatant, using Maggie's face, tries to get Lata to disclose the secret, but Lata talks around it instead til the creature takes her too.

It seems like Erebus had a test for his warriors, one he wanted them to win.

Throughout all of Lata's story, I was seething. I truly hate her family and Carlos was 100% saying exactly what I was thinking.

Another thing I appreciated though, about Carlos, is the emotional maturity. Yes they were dying and yes it was urgent that Lata disclose her secret but Carlos made certain to reassure her throughout. Tried to give her as much space as possible.

In other thoughts, Lata's mom making that "vs family" distinction, uuuh it rattled sth in me only to them have Lata say "my parents would never look at m the same way"? In the Dean Winchester show? God, the echoes of John's shitty parenting were deafening. Bur yes to eveything Carlos said. It truly wasnt Lata's fault.

And I adore also the ending conversation between Lata and Carlos (both wearing blue and god I want Carlos' coat) because yes, this kind of stuff shouldn't be forced out on anither persons whim. Lata doesn't have to tell John and Mary anything, it is her story to tell, but also yes, Carlos is right to reassure her that if she wants to share it with them, they'll likely react well like he did. And yes the reason this particular scene hit so hard is partially personal, but because of that it drove me insane in SPN where there was a tendency for people to push other to open up at their own whim (and yes, Sam did it often to mutiple people, hounding them until they cracked and spilled whatever trauma they were trying to deal with but then have nothing to give in return, no comfort or even really reaction, and yes he most of all did it to Dean a lot and it did puss me off) So yea, love this episode for the Lata and Carlos of it all!

Also I have a few questions, when Millie was trying to convince Betty about the supernatural, at one point she said "it's not like-" and cut off. She was trying to defend against the accusation of 'playing make believe). Also, Betty says sth like "Mary, I expected.this from" with relation once more to her not believing in monsters soooo.... has Mary ever been taken in under suspicion of being delusional? Was Millie? Or John?! I've questions ok i need y'alls opinions on this one.

Also, I would've soo cracked if the Akrida asked about Dean, cuz I def miss him a lot and id fucking gush about him at that point.

Anyways, that's it for this one. See you guys next time where we'll be clowning (have I mentioned I hate clowns?)

@noybusiness thanks for push earlier this month, i needed that a lot and thanks for the support for this rewatch ❤

@shallowseeker thanks the new posts, been inspiring me to get back to writing this ❤

[simping-invader]

PART 3~

So not going to lie there's probably a lot of inconsistency throughout the story just because I'm writing each part on a different day and I don't really read through the last part to remember the details I put in so some things are shoehorned in ignore those <3

ANYWAY

Onto part 3

Zims Pov:

Dib's actions make my head spin. does he know what he's doing to me? not to mention how he won't give me my own shirt back! And to make it worse he even has my pac! most confusingly why is he insisting to 'hang out' as he put it.  "You still haven't explained why you think you can just 'hang' around my base, Dib-stink" I huff, having to almost speed walk to keep up with him." Because I'm bored." dib only briefly looks back at me when he speaks, thankfully so. my mind won't get out of the gutter. "How is that my problem, go find some humans to bother. I have much better things to do!"

 hopefully we get to my base soon...these 'swim shorts' are clinging to my skin and driving me mad.  not to mention if Dib keeps being so...Whatever he is! I'll have a... bigger problem other than my antenna.  It's not helping that Dibs shorts are also clinging to his skin, and that on its own is making me feel all sorts of ways. Dib laughs a bit, snaping me out of my filthy thoughts. "Better things like what Zim? it's been years since you've done anything. you're just locked up in your base all the time doing nothing." How DARE this stupid human claim to know what I! ZIM have been doing! " I'll have you know I'm simply waiting for my tallest! soon enough I'll bet off this blasted rock and your EaRtH will be part of the great Irken empire!" I yell, much to my Suprise Dib stops in his track. good. maybe that stupid human is going to beg for Zim's forgiveness.

dibs pov:

Zim's confident proclamation catches me by surprise... there's no way he really believes they're still coming. i turn around, expecting to see some look of sarcasm, but instead Zim's body language actually matches his voice for once. Then smaller alien was glaring at me, his antenna Stright back, and looking sharp enough to stab me if he wanted to. I feel my face Morph from amusement to pity and shock. "You... Zim you actually think they're coming back?" Zims anger only seems to grow from my question, his glare now shooting daggers at me. " OF COURSE, THEY ARE" he yells at me, a real yell, for the first time in years. " My tallest are simply preparing the armada!" I take a step towards him "Zim...I've heard them... On my radio... they're not coming." Zim looks like he's ready to attack me as I get closer to him...Luckly, I have his Pac, so if he decides to lunge, he won't have any machinal advantage. not that he really needs one. I may tower over him Hight wise now, but I know his irken strength can still out match me. " Shut up! you know nothing!" he spits out, his words filled with venom. 

I can't help but sigh, the harsh sun beating down on us starting to annoy me. " Zim, I can prove it to you. when's the last time you even heard from them?"  Zim pauses, clearly having to think about it. " Well, when i last called them was at the Hiskool graduation. I reported that I had collated all the information we needed for the invasion and would stand by for their instructions." I just look at him. god he's fucking oblivious. " That was almost 5 years ago Zim. 5 years. Don't you think they would have at least updated you by now?" Zim's antennae drop down briefly, almost as if he's considering the truth, but they almost immediately shoot back to their angry position. "They're just busy!" His absolute stubborn obviousness' starts to piss me off, the heat not helping. "Zim oh my god. if you're so sure about that, why don't we call them. " Zim seems happy...Ish about that suggestion, his body language relaxing and his antenna going into a more neutral position. "Fine. let's go call them! then you'll see!" I can't help but roll my eyes as we start heading to his base once again. part of me want to laugh at him when his 'beloved tallest' confirm that they want nothing to do with him...the rest of me worries about how this will completely destroy him...

After not too long of a walk we reach his base. Zim wastes no time to push past me once we get inside, almost marching towards the tv.  "Computer!  call the tallest!" with his command, the tv switches from the random show Gir had left on, to a standing image of the irken symbol with 'calling the tallest' in bold letters across it. the line rings for far too long before it's finally picked up and the two leaders of irk appear on screen, immediately looking annoyed to see it was Zim who called. the red one smacked the purple one as Zim turns around to look at me with a ' i told you so' smirk. "What did I tell you about answering transmissions from earth!" red scolds, not even attempting to whisper. Zim doesn't seem to pick up on the clear annoyance towards him, that smirk still on his face.  "My tallest! it is Zim! I'm called to ask about plans for earth, when will i be taken off this soon to be part of our great empire!" I sit back on the couch as the red leader sighs in annoyance "never Zim." his words are short and his tone his blunt.  Zim spins around to face me with a cocky smirk" see Dib! I told you they-" his antennae drop down as his face shifts to one of shock. he slowly turns back to the screen, facing his uncaring leaders. "What?" he mumbles out, only getting two annoyed looks back " we're not coming. stop calling us. you're not an invader and we want nothing to do with that pathetic rock." reds voice was full of hate as he spoke, and with each word Zim seemed to shrivel into himself. "Congrats on at least growing some. " The purple one adds sarcastically. over the past 10ish years Zim has been on earth, he's only grown about 2 and a half feet, still leaving him rather short. both cracking up in laughter before the line is dropped.

My 'I told you so' suddenly self when Zim faces me once more, looking betrayed and crushed. "Zim..." I say softly, wanting to comfort him. "Get out" he utters, his gaze looking towards the floor. "Zim I'm sorry... i tried to war-" Zim cuts me off glaring up at me, his eyes filled with rage and hurt. " I said GET OUT! leave me alone!" my lips part as i go to speak but i decide against it, sighing as i get up, leaving his things on the couch before heading to the front door. before i leave i turn back to him "you know where to find me if you need anything..."  with that I leave, heading back towards my house, feeling guilty about shattering his illusion, even if reality needed to be brought to his attention.

3rd person pov:

A few days pass with neither boys hearing from, or seeing the other. After the reality check from the Tallest, Zim hasn't left his base, nor has he left his private quarters, allowing his s.i.r unit to run rampage around his base. After 5 days of not seeming Zim leave the house, Dib started to get more worried about the alien then he already was, and on the 6th day he decides to go see him. 

Dibs pov;

once again i was woken up before my alarm, my thoughts making it hard for me to sleep. its's been days since last saw Zim...I don't know how he'll react to seeing me, but i just...i need to make sure he's ok. i look out my window, seeing that the sun slowly raising across the Horrison, its golden light softly lighting up the sky. maybe an early morning walk can brighten Zim's mood... yeah...I'll do that. I nod to myself as i swing my legs off the bed before slowly getting up and stretching.  I throw on a random pair of blue jean shorts and a tank top before heading downstairs and out the door. I hope Zim won't attack me on sight... after a short 10-minute walk i find myself at his door, and with a bit of hesitation i knock. much to my surprise the door immediately opens.  when the door opens i can see the absolute mess that is currently Zim's base, and equally messy Gir smiling up at me " HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII." the state of the base makes me more worried for zims mental state. "Hey gir...where's zim?"

 i gently push the robot to the side, letting myself in. almost instantly my nose is assaulted with a combination of smells, almost none of them pleasant. " He's sleeping SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." i look around at the mess surrounding me " how...long has he been asleep?" Everything about this is..so concerning... " few days. he must be reaaally tired." days?? zim hasn't left his room in days???  I walk past gir, my feet moving on their own as i walk towards zims bedroom. Without knocking i open the door, slightly relieved to find the room clean. The room was completely dark aside from the slivers of sunlight filtering in through the window. in the middle of the room was a large, round green and pink bed. the walls were bare side from the now ripped up irken flags. zim was laying almost lifelessly on the bed, his back towards me.  his irken uniform was thrown onto the floor, and it looked like he was wearing some old gym shorts from skool. "zim..." i speak softly as i walk into the room, slowly approaching the bed. When i don't get a response i get closer. "Zim it's been days...are you ok."

ending this here because its long as shit <3-

Previous Part 👇

[acourtofthought]

I think Elain’s book is going to be much more plot heavy than Nesta’s book. We have:

- Elain’s powers. She’s clearly not *just* a seer, so we have a lot to explore. I love your theory about her being a shifter and a healer. I think the reason the Cauldron reacts so positively to her is because she reminds it of the Morher - not violent, kind, nurturing, etc. I know a lot of people see her as weak and as much as I love my sword girls, we need some variety.

- Vassa and Koschei. Elain will be involved, I’m 100% sure. I doubt killing such a powerful death god will be that easy. With the loss of most of Nesta’s powers (which I hated), she probably won’t be able to help much.

- If Lucien is endgame, he has powers to discover, too. Plus all the family drama. Sarah didn’t set up all that to ignore it.

- The bond. Eventually she has to decide what to do. It’s been years and while she doesn’t owe him attention or a relationship, it’s starting to get cruel. I don’t think she has any negative feelings about him otherwise she would have told Feyre to stop inviting him.

I really hope their book is next. I like the NC, but again, we need some variety. All books taking place in 1 court is starting to get boring. Not to mention we don’t even get to see any beautiful, secret places. River house, house of wind, Illyrian camps and the CoN. That’s it…

I agree and I do think the Cauldron, on some level, may have sensed that same nurturing vibe from Elain that the Mother had when used the Cauldron so long ago. It might sound cheesy but there has to be some reason it liked her enough to gift her with something.

Nesta has a possible direct link to the Mother so it's not all the crazy to consider Elain has her own connection (the scene from Moana always pops into my head when I think of Elain, where Te Fiti is throwing flowers everywhere 😂). She has a Mother Earth vibe about her.

The biggest part of Nesta's journey was Nesta learning to let go of the anger she had in her heart that prevented her from making connections with others and from being happy.

Even after trauma and drastic changes to her life, Elain has been able to bounce back and still connect with others, even people she's never met before. Do I think she's 100% fulfilled right now? No, but I don't think she's struggling to have human connections in the same ways Nesta did so her story won't need to focus on the same things.

I would be surprised if Elain were only a Seer which basically keeps her delegated to the background waiting to have visions. How can she defeat Koschei being just a Seer?

Feyre is Rhys's mate, his equal and she not only inherited his powers but the powers of all the other High Lords as well. He might be the most powerful High Lord in all of history but she's unlike anyone else.

Cassian has a raw killing power that is on a whole other level than a normal Illyrian and Nesta, his mate (and equal) was given the power of death that even trumped Cassian's own. We don't know exactly what remains after giving back what she took but her ability to wield the Trove items makes her power limitless in battle.

Lucien is set up to be a High Lord of Day with a beast form AND also has a strong affinity for fire from his mothers line. I'm sure Seers are uniquely powerful in their own way but does it make sense that when SJM prefers the females to shine and partake in the action, Lucien gets to be a High Lord with the ability to winnow, with the ability to shift into a beast form, with the ability to wield fire, with the ability to not only fight as he trained as a warrior throughout his life but also with a clever and cunning inteligence, with the burning light of the sun, with the ability to work with spells and such, and Elain, his supposed equal, is only a Seer? Something about that does feel unbalanced to me. No, I don't think Elain will ever be a warrior but again, Lucien having the ability to do all that while Elain sits around calling on visions seems anticlimactic and a bit boring for a main character in a fantasy novel.

But Elain as a healer of which there may actually be hints for? That's a big deal considering it would give her the ability to do something for others when they are hurt which canonically bothers her. Elain as a healer with the ability to defeat Koschei as Yrene was able to defeat the Valg and the Valg infections? That's a big deal. Elain being able to shift into an owl and fly which is a match for Lucien being able to winnow and having a flying beast form (like Helion's which I think is supposed to be an eagle type of creature?) Again, that makes her a match for Lucien. If I'm remembering correctly, Rhys also mentions that others outside the NC would have expected him to gift Feyre powers as his High Lady which means Lucien, if he were to become High Lord could grant Elain powers too.

And just as you said, there is SO much plot that is hinted at in SF for them. Is it a guarantee these things will happen? Definitely not, we won't know until their book.

But there are things in the book that we can connect to them.

Freeing Vassa from her curse and defeating Koschei.

Elain and Lucien in Spring, either helping Tamlin get back on his feet and the people trusting him again or THEY could be responsible for leading Spring in some way especially as Vassa and Jurian are currently "ruling" over the land that borders Spring and we know it's important that human / fae relationships are strong at this time in their history.

Lucien discovering his full powers and finding out about Helion.

Elain discovering her full powers.

Lucien is connected to the Prison through Helion and the Pegasus which means Elain could have a connection through Lucien and the plants (I'm guessing?) that the Pegasus used to feed on have disappeared, something she could possibly fix. There's also a chance that Koschei's soul is hidden somewhere within the walls of the Prison.

Lucien could reconnect with his mother in his book, finding his way back to Autumn. He could end up having to kill Beron which would finally bring him peace for getting justice for Jesminda.

They both need to let go of their pasts for good (Jesminda and Graysen).

They can connect over Lucien having spent time with Papa Archeron.

Lucien and Elain have a lot of possible ground to cover in their book. Spring, Day, the Prison, possibly Autumn, the Continent. It would be so different from any other ACOTAR novel and SJM might have set things up for a really epic adventure.