chromietriestowrite - Tumblr blog

[chromietriestowrite]

My dad sends me. Doctor Who character analysis sometimes and here's his latest:

11, more than any other Doctor, is the reason that River says, "Never let the Doctor see you get older." Rose, Martha, Amelia, Clara, Billie, Ryan, and Yaz are all young, all full of a sense of wonder for the things that the Doctor shows them. Donna is an adult. She first decided to become a companion because she was in a rut and wanted to run away from that. So 10 thought she would be like the the others. On their first trip, 9 showed Rose the end of the Earth. When she assumes that he is going to save the Earth, he corrected her. Stating that this is an unchangeable event. From the beginning, he trains her not to question his judgement on what he says cannot be changed. Donna was too old to fall for that and pushes back constantly. Okay, so you can't save everyone in Pompeii, then just save one person. It isn't an all or nothing proposition. He learned from that and tried to do better. Until he got too arrogant and tried to save someone he really should have let die. But then he became 11, the Doctor who forgets. The one who keeps running away more than any other. 200 years running away from Lake Silence. Years in a cloud over Victorian London. Years spent in a monastary.

If he can't save everyone, then fine. He won't save anyone.

Then he became 12, with a face to remind him of Donna's lesson.

[chromietriestowrite]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

[chromietriestowrite]

HEEEEELP

[chromietriestowrite]

Donna and the Doctor are the best 🔥🥹

Forever obsessed with how Donna Noble was supposed to be a one off Christmas special character and then it was like "OOPS! We accidentally wrote The Doctor's soulmate and home. We should probably get her back on huh"

[chromietriestowrite]

Be kind. 🩷

Mr. Gaiman, is there any advice you would give to a fellow human being? (asking for a friend)

Be kind.

[chromietriestowrite]

I don't know how to be me anymore

Pairing : platonic!Buckyxgn!reader

Summary : Bucky's always felt different. When he finally starts being ready to figure out what it means, he turns to you to try and find out where to go from here.

Warnings : Nb!Buckyxnb!reader, tiny bit of angst, comfort, fluff, dragcreature!reader, Buck trying to figure out who he is

Word count : 2,494

A/N : Hi guys, I finally decided to post my second fic! I tried to write something as wholesome as possible. Hopefully some of you will find some comfort reading this.

English is not my first language. Don't hesitate to tell me if something is incorrect.

Bucky opened the door abruptly. His hair was a mess, as if he had been running his hands through them for a while. You could see he was nervous.

He had been cryptic in his text asking you to come over. You weren't sure what it was about but seeing his trembling hands, you knew it had to be important. You looked at him with a smile, trying to ease his nerves.

'Can I come in?'

He then registered the fact that you had been standing in his doorway waiting for him to move his body out of the way. He look at you sheepishly.

'Sorry. Please do come in. I'll get you some water. Are you hungry? I should have made us something to eat. I can heat up some leftov-'

'A glass of water is perfect. And I just ate before coming, thank you though'. You stopped his rambling, a reassuring look on your face. 

He went to the kitchen to fill up two glasses with water.

'So, what did you want to talk to me about?'

He looked at you surprised. 'How do you know I wanted to talk to you about something?'

You smiled. 'Well I guess I know you that well. Or maybe I'm clairvoyant. Also, you might have sent me a text saying are you free, I need to talk to you about something.

'Oh, right' He chuckled a bit, his hand finding its way behing his neck, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.

You could see how hard this was for him, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he eyes looking everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

'Hey, whatever it is, it's me you're talking to. I understand you're nervous but I’m here to listen. I'm not here to judge or give you unsollicited advice. I'm your friend, and I here, always. You can count on me.'

A small smile found its way on his face. He figured he might as well dive into it, no point in delaying it.

He had known he needed someone to talk to about this. Not just someone, you. And he felt ready. No matter how hard it was to actually say the words out loud, he wanted to. 

He sat down on the sofa gesturing for you to do the same. He took a big breath, and started talking.

'Do you remember when you dressed me up and did my makeup for your show?'

A few weeks back, during one of your shows as a dragcreature, the public had to come wearing at least one item a drag queen/king/person/creature. Bucky had wanted to go all out. He always loved coming to your shows and was hell bent on being the fiercest in the audience. 

You nodded. He had been praised by all your fellow drag performers, having shown up looking like a dark priestess, slaying makeup, hair, outfit and demeanor.

'I felt something as you were doing my makeup. I felt powerful and amazing when I looked at myelf in the mirror'

'I know. I saw how you face lit up. And I noticed how you kept staring at your makeup in the rear view mirror.'

Bucky blushed looking down. 

'Don't be embarassed, I do it too.'

Bucky took a breath, you could see he had started to relax a bit. What he said next showed you he felt safe enough to open up. 

'Back in the army, with the howling commandos, we went out for a drink one night.

We were exhausted, both physically and emotionally and it felt good to take a break. To not be soldiers but a group of people, having a drink, not thinking about the war raging around us. 

Steve was having a hard time relaxing. He didn't know how to put the shield down, not even for one night. So the guys and I, we decided to go do a little private show for him.

We went to the dancers' tent and tried their USO costumes on. The amosphere was light, we were having fun being silly together.'

He took a pause. Looked down, his hands trembling harder. 

'When I put on the costume, I felt that thing. The same thing I felt when you dressed me up. I felt b... I felt beautiful. It felt right. 

And I had the biggest smile on my face. I twirled, I danced, I laughed. I felt like there was nothing that could take that feeling away. 

Steve noticed. Of course he did. He knew me better than anyone. He didn't say anything though. Well, not with words anyway.'

A small, nostalgic smile crept up on his face. 

'He stole one of the USO uniforms, the one I had on that night and gifted it to me. He said it was to remember that night by, but we both knew there was actually a way deeper meaning to it.'

Bucky looked at you, for the first time since he started talking.

'Did you know they kept it? It was in the museum along with the howling commandos' stuff from the war.'

You knew his question was rhetorical so you just nodded, urging him to keep going. 

'While I was recovering in Wakanda, Steve visited me often. Well, he said he came for me but we all knew it was the goats really.' he joked.

The atmosphere felt lighter. Like the more he talked about this, the less scary it became. 

You knew the weight of what he was telling you and it moved you to know you were the one he felt safe to talk about that with. 

He kept going.

'After Okoye helped get rid of he trigger words, he came to celebrate. We spent the night drinking, laughing, remeniscing about our childhood. 

He told me of his life since he'd been in this time. What he had learned, how he tried to build a life for himself here without really ever succeding. How he missed our world. 

He felt that Captain America was all he was anymore. Steve Rogers had died that night on the plane and he never managed to get past that. He never really tried to give himself a new life here. 

He was stuck in this time. I'm so happy that he got his chance to go back. To live the life he was always supposed to live.'

You could see how much he missed his best friend. He had talked to you about that before. The first time the two of you had talked was actually after Steve had gone. You were both overtook with emotion, sad to see a friend go and happy that he finally had a chance at happiness. 

'We both knew I wouldn't want to but he did ask me if I wanted to go back with him. But I knew I didn't belong there anymore. 

I don’t belong anywhere anymore... But I could and I want to. 

'The night before he left, he came to me with a gift. It was that very same costume from all those decades ago. He had stolen it from the museum a few years back. 

He told me that night when we dressed up was one of his fondest memories. One he held close to his heart. Because he understood that I had found a part of myself that night.' 

A tear made its way down his cheek. His voice starting to get uneven. 

'We never really talked about what I felt, what it meant, what I wanted. I think we didn't know how to. But he did tell me something that stuck with me.'

'He said that now, it was my responsibility to bring back the Bucky I was. Or to discover the Bucky I am. Maybe a bit of both. 

This time suited me better than it ever did him. And here, I could actually have a chance to figure out who I wanted to be. Who I had been all this time without knowing, without having the luxury to be. 

'I'm so grateful for that night. And I'm so grateful I got to meet the Steve you knew, even for a little bit.'

You looked at each other and smiled. Steve was the reason you two had met. Even gone, he had found a way to make both your lives less lonely. 

More confidently now, he kept going. 

'I made him a promise that night. To learn to never let anybody define or decide who I am. To learn that only I had the power to do that.'

A tear escaped you. 

'That's beautiful Bucky. And really brave too. 

I'm glad you had those moments. Even if they were few and far between.'

Bucky smiled. He took a moment to think back. He was grateful to have been able to experience those tiny little moments where he felt whole. But he wanted more. 

He looked at you expectedly.

'I asked you here because I need your help. I'm trying to figure out who I am. How to be the person I want to be now. How to be a person now. I know what I want to learn but I don't know where to start or what to ask.

Or who to talk to, exept you. I trust you, I have since the moment I met you. And you have taught me so much already. I'm asking you to teach me more. To support me and guide me through this journey.’

You smiled and took his hands in yours. 

'You are so brave. And you should be so so proud of yourself. I know I am. 

This is a potentially difficult and terrifying journey but oh how beautiful a journey it is. It won't always be easy, but no matter what you find out about yourself, it is worth it. Believe me. 

We've talked about what the gender spectrum is and how it can express itself. How it's vast and both very simple and quite overwhelming. And how you don't have to know where you find yourself in it. 

And the way you're feeling today, how you would define yourself today doesn't have to be the same as the way you feel tomorrow. 

That's part of the beauty of gender.'

'Was it hard for you? Did you always know?'

'It was hard. Very hard at times. But it was also so easy. I didn't know, not for the longest time. 

It came slowly at first.  When I would read about transgender people, non-binary or otherwise, sharing their story, I would understand. I would relate even. 

After a while, I allowed myself to realise that if I felt like I understood, like I knew where they came from then maybe it was where I belonged. 

The more I thought about freeing myself from the binary, the lighter I felt. The closer to myself I felt. 

I was lucky enough to have very supportive friends who were by my side as I naviguated all the questions and changes that came.

They never rushed me or asked me to know exactly who I was or to have any sort of answer. They understood that I was trying to figure out my identity. That I felt as lost as much as I felt found. 

I can't tell you it will go well with everyone because unfortunately it won't. But I hope you know you can find that kind of support with me. I think you can find it with Sam too, if you want.’ 

He nodded. He might not be ready to talk about that with Sam yet, but he did know he could. 

'The world has evolved, but there are still some people who don't want to accept it or who don't want to see it. And they can be so violent in their need for us not to exist. 

And then there are people who will love you and accept without ever really understanding. Not because they don't want to. They just can't seem to, i guess? 

My family is that way. When I came out to them, they asked questions. Tried to understand what it meant, how it felt like. And no matter how much they tried, they never really did understand. 

You looked down.

'They are the only people who still use my deadname you know.

Some of them because they are having a hard time wrapping their heads around the idea that I'm not the person they saw me as. Some of them refusing to accept that I'm not actually the person they saw me as.'

'I'm sorry y/n. I know how much it hurts you.'

'Yes, it does hurt. When they use my deadname, when they don't use the right pronouns. When they invalidate me feeling bad when they do that. 

But they still love me. Me being me has never changed the way they love me. 

Of course I wish they would respect who I am. And I know my situation would not be acceptable for some people. And I get that I really do.

Having your parents still love you after you come out shouldn't be something to be grateful about. But for now, I guess having their love has to be enough for me.'

You took time to reflect. Thinking about how your family is handling your transition hurts, and it's hard to navigate not wanting to lose them while asking for them to respect who you are.

You tried to find the right words. 

'My family is the one I made. The one I'm making, the one I'm choosing everyday. Composed of both relatives and the amazing people whom I love and want to share my life with. 

And you are one of them you know. One of the people who sees me for who I am and loves me unconditionally. 

And I love you and I see you.'

You were both crying. Not sad tears, maybe not happy tears either. But the tears you get from beeing seen. Truly seen. The tears you get from feeling the love someone has for you. The tears that make you feel like maybe you can learn to love yourself that way too. 

He smiled. 

'I love you and I see you.'

'I'll by your side, Buck. Through this journey and any other, always. I'll support you, I'll be there when you need a hug, a book, a sickening makeup, a person to cry with, a person to laugh with. When you need my wonderful vegan banana bread.'

He laughed. You loved hearing him laugh.

'I mean it. I'm here, for it all. I love you.'

He came closer and took you in his arms. Held you so tight. You stayed like that for a while, neither one of you ready to let go. He was crying. You could feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder. You didn't mind. He put his head in the crook of your neck and whispered

'I love you.'

Thank you for reading and remember you are loved ❤️

You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. We have to be there for each other 🥰

[chromietriestowrite]

Already Gone

Pairing : Bucky x gn!reader

Summary : You wake up one day to find that Bucky's gone. You don't know why, or what happened. When he comes back, you sit down to have a much needed conversation.

Warnings : angst, established relationship, lack of communication, heartbreak, hint of eating disorder, Bucky doesn't talk much, he knows it's too late

Word count : 460

A/N : Hi guys, this is the first fanfic I wrote, I know I have a lot to learn so don't hesitate to give me feedback ! English is not my first language.

'Do you still want us to be together?'

'I don't know anymore...'

The words you'd both had been dreading to hear.

Bucky had been gone for a week, this is the first words you've spoken to him since that time. Your heart broke when you said them, but you couldn't ignore this, not anymore.

'You left.'

'I needed space.'

'But you didn't tell me. How do you think it felt when I woke to find out you were gone?'

You took a breath. You didn't want this conversation to be a fight.

'You needed space, fine. You need anything, that's okay, we talk about it and we figure it out. But you have to talk to me.'

'I didn't know how to say it.'

'We're in a relationship Bucky, without communication we don't have anything!

It's okay to need space. In fact, it's good to realise when you do.

What is not okay is for you to leave in the middle of the night without saying anything. No note, no nothing.'

'I texted you I was okay.'

'Yeah, the next day. After I'd been worried sick. And all you said was not to worry. I didn't know when you'd be back, or if you'd be back. I didn't know wether I'd done something wrong.

You left without telling me. I spent the worst week because of you. My last meal was the day before you left, I haven't slept, I was at my worst, I needed you and you weren't there.'

'I know, I screwed up, I'm sorry.'

'Sorry's not enough. Not anymore. You can't hurt me and then come back with a 'sorry' and expect everything to be okay.'

'I know.'

'I don't want it to keep happening either. I never want to hurt you. I'll do better, we'll do better.'

'This is not the first time I was hurt because of you, of us. We keep hurting each other no matter how much we try not to.

I cried all the tears I have. I don't want it to keep happening.'

'I don't know that we can.'

'What can I do to make it better?'

Bucky was in tears, you could see the hurt in his eyes. He was pleading, begging you to give him another chance. But it was all too much. You knew this was going to be some of the worst pain you've ever felt, but eventually you'd both be okay. You believed that. What you didn't know was if you'd both survive hurting each other again.

'I don't know that there's anything you can do.

We've built a relationship on the fear of losing each other. I don't know that we can come back from that.

We're unhappy when we're not together. We can't spend too much time apart.

I don't have a life outside of us and that's not fair!'

'I know it doesn't mean anything anymore, but I'm sorry.'

'I'm not saying all that's on you. It's on me too.'

You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't be an us anymore.

'I love you. More than anything in this world. I don't want to lose you.'

I know it's missing a lot. It's basically a conversation with not enough description, not enough of an understanding of what the characters are feeling. I don't know how to do that yet but when I do, I'll rewrite it.

'I love you too. I'll always love you. But I'm already gone.'

It felt so good writing this. I hope you'll like it!

[chromietriestowrite]

i’ll never get over how gorgeous the interior of 13’s tardis is 🥺🥺

[chromietriestowrite]

Being the change I want to see in the world by making more doctor who memes

[chromietriestowrite]

💙

"it's always you and her, isn't it? long after the rest of us are gone..."

- the TARDIS and her Doctor

[chromietriestowrite]

Hey Neil! Do you have any advice for aspiring authors around dealing with tropes? I'm writing something but at times it feels like everything is too trope-y. I don't want to go against the tropes though just for the sake of it! Cheers - A very self critical writer

I kind of wish that the whole "TV tropes" thing had never happened, to be honest. As far as I'm concerned it's like a website that analyses word use or letter of the alphabet use, with the additional function of making people self-conscious.

There aren't a lot of story shapes. In a love story, people get to meet. Either they meet dramatically or they meet in a way that is interesting by being undramatic. Either they fall for each other or they don't, or one falls but the other doesn't. Something had better prevent them from getting together, whether it's pride or a guard with a gun, because otherwise you don't have a plot, unless they get together and then something goes wrong... and on and on. Everything is going to be some kind of trope, and none of that actually matters. What matters is the story. Pretend you've never heard of tropes.

Tell your story. Tell it new, tell it freshly, have fun telling it. Make characters we care about, give them interesting problems to solve, sort it out in the end or at least make the ending, whether happy or sad, feel satisfying, and you'll be fine.

[chromietriestowrite]

Anyways here’s some positivity for trans people who go by their birth name. You aren’t any less trans for using your birth name and you are 100% valid and wonderful. It’s okay if you dont feel uncomfortable with your birth name, and it’s okay if you don’t want to change it you are wonderful and still part of the trans community ily <3

transmeds don’t you dare fucking breathe near this post

[chromietriestowrite]

Tips for kids online

Pseudonyms! Use them! Even if it’s a nickname, a favorite character’s name, a letter, your username, use a pseudonym. Especially if you have a unique name

Private information is PRIVATE. Last name, age, full birthday. Things that could be used to identify you should not be shared. Remember those “enter anyone’s name and learn everything about them” websites? They aren’t kidding around, and they’re dangerous.

Your house is your business. Don’t share your home address, school name, city, even sharing what state you live in could be risky. There’s no reason for people online to need to know this, there’s no reason for people online to ask for it. This is a red flag

Pictures are worth a thousand words. Take note of what’s in pictures you post. Can you see a state flag? A pet’s collar with a home address on it? Does that screenshot have your phone number in it? Be careful with EXACTLY what you post.

Once you post it, it’s not yours anymore. Anyone on the internet can share a post, take screenshots, repost to other websites, send to other people, etc. Once you post something, what happens to it is out of your hands. Make sure you be careful with what you post.

Face and voice can reveal a lot about you. They can reveal age, agab, in some cases they can be used to determine where you live (accents anyone?) be careful.

Please kids on the internet, BE SAFE. Remember these are strangers. Remember the internet is full of real people with their own motives and intentions. Remember that you can’t control the internet. Please please PLEASE be safe!

[chromietriestowrite]

Are you sad that June is over and you don't have a pride month anymore? Fear not, friends! There's a different pride month just beginning! lgballt

[chromietriestowrite]

This scene is so important and that's something I never had with my parents when I came out. They never understood that the hurt they caused with their remarks was actually there. They just think that since it happened before they knew, it's on me.

Seeing that scene felt sooo good because I actually saw a parent, taking responsibility for the hurt they might have caused and try to stop any kind of guilt Simon might have been feeling.

[chromietriestowrite]

Happy Pride Month everyone, I'm sooo excited 🏳️‍🌈 💙💛💖

uh oh my hand slipped

Happy Pride Month! 🐝

[chromietriestowrite]

I'm feeling sooooo many emotions right now. I cried so hard, this was beautiful ! I didn't know how much I needed Zemo to see his family one last time 🥺

And the way her past trauma is affecting her now has me completely hooked, I wanna find out more ! And I definetely like her slowly opening up, I'm so glad Zemo's here and so soft and understanding 🥰

I can't wait for the rest !

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 13

A/N: Y’all this took me forever to write and it was heartbreaking as well. 😭 Be prepared to cry I guess. Let me know if you would like to be tagged. 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside.

Warnings: language, angst, blood, nightmares, supernatural, brief mentions of past trauma

You had awoken with a start that night, sweat beaded at your forehead and your chest heaving with jagged breaths that felt like icy daggers piercing your lungs. You choked back a sob, throwing your cold and clammy palm over your lips that were wet with the salt of your tears and sweat as you tried to suppress the cry that dared to escape your throat. You had yet another nightmare, but this wasn’t the same ones you had of Ares. No, this was different. You had instead dreamt about the time you received the scars on your back. But it wasn’t so much this dream that had you terrified to your core, no, it was the one that followed that filled you with the utmost dread and horror.

You could still see the images of your dream playing vividly in your mind. The way everything was dry and devoid of water and life, covered in ash everywhere you looked and surrounded in this eerie darkness. Thick, dark clouds blanketed the sky, banishing the sun out of existence where not even a single ray of sunlight could pass. The clouds moved at an unnatural pace, which you thought should have accompanied winds of an incredible speed, but no, the air was deadly still and silent. The only sounds were the cracks of lightning that would strike the earth, yet there wasn’t any signs of rain as far as the eye can see. You remembered seeing how the earth beneath your feet was split open in cracks, from which fire would occasionally spring forth through the openings at the surface.

And as you neared one of the cracks to investigate, you found yourself peering down at a pit so deep, that if you had dropped a coin in it, it would have taken nine days just to reach the bottom. And there at the bottom was an ocean of flames and lava, and what you found at the very bottom filled you with this cold chill that you never wanted to ever experience. There at the bottom lay thousands of souls of the wicked, wailing in torment as they were chained to the ground, their bodies naked and skeletal looking as they reached their arms out above them, desperately grasping and clawing for anything they could use to climb their way out.

You’ve seen this place many times before. You were in Káto Kósmos (underworld) where you used to work with your uncle Hades, your role was to guide souls from the mortal world to Káto Kósmos and Elysium, hence one of your nicknames ‘torch-bearer’. When you had first came to this place with your uncle, you had never been more terrified of the scenery. And though you spent many days here, you could never get accustomed to the anguish that surrounded it.

But this abyss in particular was none other than Tartarus, where your grandfather Kronos was locked up. And as you looked to the corner, there you saw him, Kronos, chained up to the walls of the abyss, his skin reminiscent of the lava and dark cracked walls around him. You stood frozen to your spot as he turned to face you, his eyes blazing like the fires of the pit as he bared his sharp teeth in a sinister grin, lava dripping from the corners of his mouth. You saw him glance down to where your arms were, and as you followed his gaze your eyes widened in horror and your blood ran colder than the iciest parts of this hell. There in your arms lay your daughter, devoid of any color and paler than the vampires you had known, her body stiff and cold.

And that is when you woke up.

You were currently still sat on your bed, your face resting between your hands as you shivered from the bundle of nerves. You felt like throwing up from the ocean of emotions that made you feel like you were drowning. With a shaking breath and trembling hands, you peeled the covers off your body, moving over to get off the bed as you repeatedly told yourself how it was all just a dream, nothing more, just a dream. It’s just a dream. With knees that felt like they were about to give away, you wobbled over to the bathroom, clutching the walls as you went. After turning the lights on, you nearly jumped at the sight of your arms. That deathly color had returned to your arms once again, that charcoal gray mauve purple hue that started as jet black from your claw like fingers and hands before fading out to the previous color, now spread to your biceps with a movement similar to vines.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the violent throbbing in your head as the voices of the tormented from beneath the earth below, filled your ears like a wave had come crashing down on your head. You clasped your hands over your ears, the throbbing increasing in intensity as you slid down the bathroom door, muttering the repeated words of a spell over and over until everything started to ease. As the headache and voices died down like the passing of a breeze, you opened your eyes back up, reaching over to turn the bathroom lights off. You rubbed your temples, a string of curses and a groan leaving your lips before glancing down at your hands to see that the color was fading away, crawling back down your arms like vines and leaving your skin back to its natural tone. You sat there for a minute with your head leaned back against the door and your legs spread straight out on the cold tile floor. With a shuddered sigh, you grabbed onto the cold counter and pulled yourself up with a grunt, turning on the faucet and tying your hair up in a loose bun before washing your face with the cold water, drying yourself off with a towel straight after.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you navigated through the dark bedroom and went to open your bag that was on the table, pulling out your bottle of aged Olympian wine that your sibling Dionysus made specially for you. The wonderful thing about Dionysus’s wines were that they never ran out, the bottles always managed to remain full. Though that could have posed as a problem since most of the attendees at Dionysus parties were always passed out drunk on every part of his house imaginable. You once found someone passed out cold on one of the ledges near the tall ceiling, you wondered at how they even got there in the first place. But Dionysus was always known for throwing the wildest parties and that was what was to be expected when others attended them. You had only been to one of their parties because you weren’t a fan of them in the first place, but Dionysus had insisted, telling you how much of a blast it would be. You ended up spectating with horror in the corner of the room as everyone trashed the place and pulled the most absurd stunts and pranks. At the end of the night you made sure no one rode their pegasus home drunk.

But the reason you pulled out the wine in the first place was because you needed something strong after the visions you had, you weren’t looking to get drunk but you at least wanted to calm your mind after what you saw in your sleep. With your bottle in hand, you went to sit on the window nook, your feet perched up on the other side of the wall that was connected to the window. You looked like a mess with your unruly hair and the hem of your lace trimmed calf length nightgown ridden up to the top of your thighs while one of the thin straps had slipped down your shoulders, almost exposing the entirety of your breast. You sat there for a while, taking occasional sips of the wine and closing your eyes from the deep rich berry flavor that still lingered on your tongue as you stared out at the neon city of high town Madripoor. You prayed that what you saw was just a dream, nothing more, just a simple yet incredibly petrifying nightmare and not some twisted prophecy. But though Olympus may had been gone, the underworld still remained. That is why you had taken every precaution in your power, spell after spell, and enlisted every demon and monster under your command to make sure the doors to the realm below remained chained and locked so that none of the evils from it could escape. Some time had passed until you heard a light tap on your door, making you almost choke on the wine as you swallowed it down, closing up the bottle and rushing over to shove it back in your bag.

“Come in.” You said out loud enough for the person outside your door to hear but not to the point where everyone else could. You grabbed your robe and turned around, adjusting the strap of your nightgown before slipping on your robe just as you heard your door open and shut. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you like this, and most importantly you didn’t want them to see the scars on your back. Tying the belt of your robe around your waist, you turned around to see.........

“Zemo?” You raised a brow at him, seeing him standing at your door in his matching pajamas and robe. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and his hair looked out of place for the first time. “What are you doing here?”

“I apologize if I had disrupted your sleep.” He looked to the floor with a slight bow of his head. His voice was quiet and he didn’t meet your eyes, his gaze still focused on the floor. It almost looked as if he felt rude for coming to your room and disturbing you at this ungodly hour.

“Well I’ve been awake for a while now so you’re not the one to blame.” You sighed, gesturing over to the window nook. “Have a seat. Do you need some water? You look like shit.”

“Please, if you don’t mind.” He scoffed lightly at your observation of him as he finally looked up at you, thanking you as he went over to sit by the window.

You went over to the table that had your bag and opened up the bottle of water Sharon had already placed there, filling up the two glasses that were there. Zemo watched you as you fixed up the glasses, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were more so trained on your back instead. He knew. He had caught a glimpse of them when he stepped into your room, right when you were slipping on your robe in a hurried fashion. You were too late. And from the way they were lined across your back, Zemo knew there was only one way you could have gotten them.

You stood there for a moment at the table, contemplating on an idea before you made up your mind and reached into your bag, pulling out a small glass vial and swirling the glowing blue contents around. Popping open the cork top, you poured just a drop into Zemo’s glass, watching it dissolve into the water. Grabbing both glasses, you walked back over to where Zemo sat and handed his glass to him.

“What’s in it? Poison?” Zemo quirked, he saw you drop a strange liquid into it and you weren’t even trying to be sly about it.

“Nah.” You scrunched your nose. “I’m too tired and lacking motivation to poison you. I added a tonic, to help you with whatever the hell you are feeling. It’ll make you feel and look less like shit. You gotta finish the whole glass though, not that it tastes bad. Ice?”

“Oh, um sure. Thank you.” Zemo looked up at you. Well that was kind of you.

You waved a hand over his glass and a clinking sound was heard as three cubes of ice formed in his drink. Zemo stared at the glass, he really had to start getting accustomed to your strange ways. You formed ice cubes in your own glass as well before sitting down on the other side of the nook.

“I want to apologize about the gestures I made towards you and putting you in that predicament. You didn’t deserve to be put on display like that, especially near Selby.” Zemo spoke up.

“It’s fine, really.” You shook your head. “I have your ring by the way.”

“Keep it. As a sort of compensation.”

“I can’t. That ring looks expensive. You could at least return it and get your money back.”

“Keep it, I insist. It looks good on you anyways.”

“Oh........okay then. So what’s really bothering you?” You questioned as you took a drink of the cold water to help waken you up.

“I saw my family again in my dreams. Or at least, what I last saw of them.” Zemo glanced down at his glass before taking a sip of the tonic you prepared for him. There wasn’t much of a taste, maybe a slight hint of a berry, but right after doing so, he already felt slightly better.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“And what’s keeping you awake?”

“Things that were...things that are...and some things...that have not yet come to pass.” You leaned back against the window.

“Did you really just-“

“Yes I quoted Galadriel. I didn’t know how else to put what I’m going through.” You sighed before sitting up abruptly, staring at him like he had asked you the most bizarre question before dropping your expression to that of a solemn one. Did he just? “You want me to contact your dead family, don’t you.”

Zemo whipped his head towards you. Did you just read his mind? You said you wouldn’t do that unless absolutely necessary.

“Well your thought was incredibly loud might I add.” You answered. “I can’t do anything about it when you mortals like to scream in your heads.”

“I apologize.” Zemo shook his head. “It was a ridiculous thought. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No.” You stopped him. “I.....I can do it. If you want to of course. I....can’t bring your family back, it’s too risky and won’t end well. But I can contact their spirits.”

Zemo looked at you as if you had lost your mind, unable to form words at the moment. Were you really going to contact his deceased family? He was a bit uneasy about it at first, but at the same time, he needed to see them again, even if it was for one last time.

“I......I would like to see them again, but mostly so I can properly say goodbye.”

You nodded your head in understanding, going over to set the glass down on the table before pulling out your dagger.

“What is that for?” Zemo eyed the dagger in your hand as the blade glinted in the moonlight.

“Well I’m going to have to open up a portal to the dead, and in order to do that, I need blood. But don’t worry. I’m using my own blood.” With a wave of your hand you made five lit candles appear in a circle on the floor, representing the five points of your pentagram, the burning flames stood still from the lack of a breeze. “You don’t have to watch this process if it disturbs you.” You turned to him, to which Zemo shook his head. He wasn’t going to back out now, in fact, he was curious. Never had he thought he would be seeking the help of the goddess of witchcraft herself to preform an act of necromancy. You kneeled down on the floor in the center of the candles, holding your arms out before you with your dagger clutched in one hand. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you dragged the tip of your dagger through your palm, wincing from the pain and using your blood for the the runes you painted on the floor. After the last incantation, you sat there in silence as Zemo did the same.

“What are you-“

“Shhh.” You hushed him, putting a finger to your lips as you waited for the telltale signs. And there it was. There came a small chilly breeze, flickering the flames of the candles though there wasn’t the slightest opening in the room for a breeze to pass through. The temperature of the room dropped to where you could see your breath escape your lips in a cloud of fog. Zemo shivered, and as you looked ahead, three silhouettes began to take form in front of you, taking the shape of an older gentleman, a beautiful woman, and a little boy who looked like a much younger version of Zemo and the woman, until they looked fully human like they haven’t touched or seen the slightest shrivel of death. Their presence instantly brightened up the room in a warm, comforting glow.

Zemo held his breath at the sight before him, he thought that his heart might stop, or that he was just in another dream, that none of this was real. The three spirits bowed their heads to you in respect as you gave them a kind smile, the same smile a mother would give a child. You looked over at Zemo as they did the same, following your gaze until their faces lit up once they saw who sat before them. You stood up and went over to Zemo, taking the glass out of his hands and setting it down before he dropped it, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Go say hi.” You smiled down at him.

Zemo looked up at you, unable to form words from the emotions he was currently feeling. You swore you thought he looked like a scared young boy at that moment, his eyes filled with this slight fear and surprise. Zemo gulped, looking back at his family as he choked out their names, his voice hoarse and dry.

“Papa!” The little boy ran to him.

Zemo jumped out of his seat as he frantically rushed over to the boy, kneeling down to hold him in his arms.

You widened your eyes at Zemo’s sudden movement, secretly flicking your wrists to solidify their forms before they came in physical contact with each other. You couldn’t bear to see their expressions, especially Zemo’s, if he had come to find out he couldn’t even touch them, that his hands would pass right through his loved ones. You’ve seen it happen before, they were only spirits after all, no longer mortal.

“Carl. Oh Carl.” Zemo sobbed as he kissed his son’s forehead, clutching his son’s small frame to him with his hand cradling his head like it was the last thing he could do.

“I missed you Papa.” Carl smiled at up Zemo. “Princess Hekate helped us, did you know! She’s so nice! She gave us a beautiful place to live in........in......” The boy furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the name of the place they currently resided in before looking at you for help.

“Ēlýsion my child.” You smiled, tears brimming the corners of your eyes at the heart wrenching scene before you.

“Yeah! El.....El......Ēlýsion!” Carl grinned as he got the name right, making Zemo chuckle.

You almost gasped at the sound that left Zemo’s lips. You had never seen him genuinely smile, or even laugh. But this, seeing him like this made you feel a sense of peace within yourself, and yet, there was that guilt, because this was only temporary.

“It’s sooooo beautiful there dad! And there’s so many nice furry animals there that are my friends!”

“That’s wonderful Carl.” Zemo smiled down at his son as he stroked his hair. He wished he could freeze time, so he could live in this moment forever.

“Helmut, my love.” The woman now softly spoke as she smiled down at him.

Zemo looked up at her with wide eyes before standing up and embracing her, holding her as close to him as possible. “Heike, schatzi.”

You turned away as they shared a kiss, looking down at the floor and playing with the silk fabric of your nightgown.

Zemo went to embrace his father next before holding them all as close to him as possible, afraid that if he let go, they might disappear at his fingertips.

You glanced at them once more smiling at seeing them so happy together before starting to make your way towards the door to leave them some privacy but Zemo had stopped you in your tracks, calling you by your name. “Wait, don’t go. We would all like it if you stayed with us.”

You turned back around, seeing them beckoning you back with kind smiles, and so you did. Even though Zemo knew you had already met his family, he still wanted to introduce you to them like he would if they were alive. He was able to do what he couldn’t do before, he was able to look at his family in a much more lively state, he was able to catch up on events with them, he was able to tell his son more stories, he was able to tell them how much he loved them. But the last thing left for him to do, was to tell them goodbye, for the final time.

You placed a hand on Zemo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Zemo, but time is almost out.”

Zemo nodded his head as he understood what you told him, the same saddened expression returned to his face, but this time it was different, it was almost a peaceful kind of sadness, one that signified a sense of acceptance. Zemo embraced each of them for one last time, keeping a memento in his mind of their individual scents and the feeling of their frames in his hands as he told them all goodbye and how much he loved them for one last time. His father, wife, and son held hands with each other as they stood before him, each of them wearing a glowing smile on their faces.

Heike looked to her husband with an expression that held much more meaning behind it, one that you had seen the deceased give their loved ones. “It’s not your time yet.” She told him before turning to you with a smile that said thank you, though her eyes told you there was something more she wanted to share with you. So as you glanced into her thoughts, you saw her mention one thing. ‘Be there for him, he needs you.’ And then they faded away, returning to the Elysian Fields and leaving your room in the darkness it was before, the moonlight being the only source of light since the candles had burned out.

“Goodbye.” You heard him say farewell once more, and for the very last time.

You looked over at Zemo to see if he was okay and saw him still standing there, staring at the same spot they stood at not too long ago.

“Thank you.” He muttered as he now turned to you.

“No need to thank me. You both needed to see each other.”

He stepped closer to you now, his eyes scanning the floor as he searched for a way to thank you. You had done so much for him, maybe it was a simple task for you, but it meant everything to him, how could he ever repay you. You glanced down as you saw his hand reach towards you, he was much closer now, merely inches apart as you could almost feel the heat radiating of his body. If you moved just an inch towards him, your chest would have brushed against him, the only thing separating you two would be a layer of fabric. You shivered as you felt Zemo’s fingers brush against the side of your neck as he moved away your loose strands of hair that had fell out of your bun. His fingers left a trail of goosebumps as they went over your bare collarbone and shoulder, before going over the fabric of your robe and down your clothed arm before brushing up against the bare skin of your hand, the same hand where you had just sliced yourself.

You watched as his fingers wrapped delicately around your wrist as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles before gazing down at you. Your face was hot as you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you felt as if you would melt into a muddle at his feet from the way he held you before him. He made you feel entirely vulnerable and you did the same to him. Zemo thought you looked absolutely radiant in the moonlight, perhaps being the goddess of the moon had something to do with it, but you looked entirely ethereal. Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he turned your hand over before breaking his gaze to glance down at your palm, tracing a finger over the area where you had sliced yourself, the fresh wound that was there was now replaced with a scar. Zemo placed a soft delicate kiss on your scar that had formed, afraid that it might have still caused you pain even though it had healed over.

“Thank you.” He whispered before looking into your eyes once more.

Your hand was still held in his as he used his other hand to caress your cheek, cupping your jaw softly while his thumb brushed along the skin that was there. You reached your free hand up to where his was on your jaw, placing your hand on his wrist and seeing the softest smile on his lips as you did so, you stood there, held in each other’s gaze before he started to lean in. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you knew what was to come next. You parted your lips, desperately wanting to cave in to the feeling of his lips on yours but you turned your head, your eyes closed and your jaw tight.

You couldn’t.

Zemo saw the way you turned and the expression that was held on your face, feeling your grip on his wrist become firm. Zemo let out a soft breath he was holding in, not knowing why you had turned away from him in the last moment. Did he upset you? He didn’t mean to upset you.

“I’m sorry Zemo, I just.......I can’t.” You refused to look into his eyes or else you’d burst into tears in front of him.

“I understand Schatzi.” He whispered to you before placing a soft kiss on your cheek instead, his lips lingering there for a minute as he let go of your hand after placing another kiss to your knuckles. “Get some sleep schatzi. You deserve it.”

You heard your door close softly behind him as he left your room, the tingling sensation on your cheek still lingered like a phantom, from the feeling of the kiss he left behind.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic