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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Try not to forget me

Synopsis: Anon request: Can we have a reader who slept with Zemo when they were younger, they were basically each other’s first times. Reader was brought to the mission and when Sam mentions Zemo she only limits herself to saying that she knows him assuming she knows him from civil war. At some point, Zemo mentions it to Sam and since he can’t contain himself he has to ask reader to be sure. Maybe some smut, like ‘I don’t remember you being this good’

Word count: 8.5k

Author’s note: Welp it took me a while but it's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am such a sucker for the trope of seeing someone you once dated years after not seeing them again. Like give me all of that. Also I changed a little bit of the request but not much.

Warnings: Gun shots, SMUT (for mature audiences), Fingering, Vaginal sex, Stripping

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Fingers fumbled with the clasp, the feeling of lips trailing up your thigh, sweet whispers in the air,

‘My princess, my everything’

His kisses on your neck, the desperation in his voice

‘I need you, all of you’

His fingers dug into your hips, his body moving like waves on top of you.

You call out his name to the night, losing yourself in the passion that consumed you.

Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging roughly which elicited a moan from his lips.

His eyes sparkled as he reached his first climax with you, ‘You’ll always be mine’

You woke up still with the taste of his lips upon your mouth. You felt the ghost of him linger on top of you, clinging to that long-ago memory.

But all things fade with time and the cold reality pulled you from the once pleasant dream drenched in sorrow. Sighing you pulled yourself off the made-up bed on the floor, already grabbing a hair tie to pull the bird’s nest of your hair out of your face. You hop over to where your prosthetic leg laid and strapped it onto your thigh.

Grabbing your phone you notice a few miss call from an old friend, calls you must have slept through. Pressing the number you hold it up to your ear as you wander around the apartment preparing for your day.

On the third ring, he picked up.

“Sam?” you ask

“Y/n! I wasn’t sure if I would hear back from you, it’s been a while”

“Yeah, things have been keeping me busy. It’s not like how it was when we were in the army”

You could hear him chuckle down the line, “It’s strange, I would have thought my time in the army would have been the craziest part of my life, but it’s hard to beat all the stories I have of aliens”

“At least you have stories to tell, what do I have? I served for a few years as a new American citizen, almost died a few times till one day I got shot in the leg”

“I don’t know losing your leg is one hell of a story, but speaking of almost losing your life. You remember that time I was able to pull you away from a landmine and you told me, ‘oh Sam thank you so much, I owe you so much’” Sam says down the line in a squeaky voice

“Since when have I ever spoken like that Sam? And why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going”

“Well that’s because it is time for me to cash in that favour”

That’s how you found yourself arriving at an airport, searching around to find Sam. As you walked around the corner you could make out what seemed to be three figures in the distance. As you got nearer one of them noticed you, and started waving exaggeratingly making you chuckle.

You finally reach him as Sam pulls you into a firm hug. “It’s good to see you again y/n,” he says as you pull away.

“Yes, after all these years of avoiding me” you quip making him laugh

“You know I’d never avoid you! It’s you who has always found an excuse to get out of meeting up with old friends”

“Well I’m here now”

“Speaking of old friends, let me introduce to you this man, 106 years old, dermatologists hate him”

The man Sam referred to now stepped forward, holding out his hand, “Hi, I’m Bucky” he says, smiling slightly as you shake his hand.

“Y/n, you look good for your age”

“He moisturises” Sam buts in making Bucky send him a look, “It’s complicated” he mutters and you nod.

“I met Steve once, I understand,” you tell him, making his eyes light up at the mention of his old friend.

“Super soldier serum, the ability to be almost immortal, another reason as to why we have all gathered here to prevent it”

A shiver ran through your spine as you heard that long ago accent which you had removed from your voice. You focus on the man behind Sam, someone you should have noticed when you first appeared.

It had been over twenty years since you had last seen him yet you could still recognise the way his lips twitched up at the sides but dipped in the middle, the softness of his warm brown eyes, and the slight angular twist his eyebrows had. His hair was more well kept than when you had last seen him. Then he was still going through his rebellious phase, letting his hair grow unkempt but now he had a sense of refinement about him. He knew he was ageing like fine wine and now instead of trying to rebel from the prestigious life he had like when you knew him, he lavished in it, enjoying the money that was of so easy access to him and spent it on all the finer luxuries of life.

“Y/n, this is Zemo. You might remember seeing him on the news, he’s the one who framed Bucky”

You knew him more than that, more than any of them could ever know him. The dream from this morning swarmed your thoughts again, taunting you as if your brain knew what was to come.

Sokovia had been your home country, a place you had longed to forget, leave dead. Zemo, Helmut, was your childhood friend. You couldn’t remember the time when you first met as it felt like he had always been in your life. Everything you two did, you did together. Attending the same schools, going around to each other’s houses, exploring the wildness together. You two were closer than siblings. Your family had nowhere as near the same money as Zemo’s family had, yet that didn’t seem to matter, at least not when you were children. It was no surprise to people when eventually you two started dating. There had been bets on how long it would take for Zemo to gather the courage to ask you out. You and Zemo had been each other’s firsts, first partner, first kiss, first making love, which is where your dream had come from. It was cringy to say it but you felt like you loved him with every inch of your soul, and you knew Zemo was just as dedicated to you.

That’s why the break-up was so messy.

You were the one who called it. You had to. Zemo might have been blind to what it meant to be a Baron at that time but you weren’t. His parents allowed him to have his little indulges, allowed you two to be friends, to date. But at the end of the day, he would always be from the higher class and your family from the lower class. They would of never let you two marry so you had to call off the relationship before you got too deep, to save yourself some pain. You’d hoped that you two could still be friends, though it would have hurt, you still wanted to be around him but that was never meant to be.

At first, he didn’t believe you, he laughed it off as a good joke till he realised you were being serious. Then was the confusion, he wouldn’t let you leave. He needed to know what he did wrong, what could have happened for you to want to break up with him. Then was the obsession. He wouldn’t leave you alone, turning up to your house every day to beg for another chance, following you around trying to pick the relationship back up, threatening any guy that went near you. Then the heartbreak when he finally accepted it was over. He didn’t leave his house for months, you heard rumours he drank himself to sleep most nights, till one time at the dead of the night you found him pounding on your door, shouting to let him in. He was pissed and crying, imploring at you to give him a second chance, begging for you to tell him what he could do to get back with you. He would do anything, give you all his money, abandon his family and run away with you. You helped him back home and told him to leave you alone. And to give it to him he did because then came the anger. You would see him outside and he would pretend he didn’t even know who you were. You’d walk past and accidentally hit shoulders and he shouted at you to watch where you were going. Soon he would be seen with lots of different women, taking them to all the places he took you, dancing at parties. Whenever you looked over to them they were making out and it pained you deeply for what you had to give up. Eventually, you ran away. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself seeing Zemo move on with someone else while you were still suffering on the inside, not just for losing the boy you love but the person who had been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You left Sokovia to live in America, completely ridding yourself of your whole past identity. There you decided to enlist in the Army which is where you had met Sam, served with him for a few years till you were forced to retire early due to losing your leg. You checked up on Zemo every once in a while, it wasn’t too hard with the Sokovian news constantly obsessing over him. He married the woman he moved onto, the one you always saw making out with him. You suppose he truly must have loved her because it was your birthday when his son was born. While he celebrated the happiest day of his life you spent the day at the bottom of a bottle drinking away the loneliness. You still remember the moment you found out what had happened to Sokovia. You hadn’t been back there in years but it was still your home, where you had all of your fond memories, now all gone.

You didn’t see anything in the news about Zemo after that, he and his family completely vanished so you had to assume the worst. Till you finally saw him on the news. It was hardly like the boy you once knew. The Zemo you knew was kind, empathetic, caring, beautiful in every way he could be yet the man you saw there was a murderer, cold-hearted, reckless. What had happened to the boy you once knew?

You could make guesses, his family was nowhere in sight and you could only imagine how losing the woman you love and your child could hurt you. You hated imagining all the pain Zemo has gone through.

“Yes, I remember seeing him on the news,” you tell Sam. Both you and Zemo stared at each other, your eyes unwavering.

He knew who you were. He knew from the moment you turned around that corner. As he watched you warmly greet Sam and shake hands with Bucky. He watched the person he never thought he would see again stand right in front of him, not even noticing him.

But now you stood there, staring him down. Both of you almost speaking through your eyes. Would the other one bring up the past? Try to acknowledge all that has happened between you or is that dead, left forgotten. Will you two pretend to have never met before, letting years of memories fade.

Zemo was first to speak.

“I see my reputation isn’t too favourable”

“That’s what you get for blowing up the UN,” you say scowling at him as you cross your arms

Zemo opens his mouth to say something but Sam gets here first, “Y/n served in the Army with me so you better be careful with what you say Zemo”

Zemo’s eyes then flicker back to you tilting his head, like he always used to do, in interest.

“Why is he even here?” you ask, finally pulling your eyes away from him to Sam and Bucky

Sam turns to Bucky with a plastered on a fake smile, “Why don’t you explain Bucky”

Bucky sighs as he glances over to you, “As Sam mentioned to you on the call we are trying to track down this group of super-soldiers called the Flag Smashers. We need Zemo here to help us track down where they got the serum and help us so no one else becomes a super-soldier”

“And you trust him?” you scoff, glaring back to Zemo who just smirked at you

“We have no other choice” Bucky mutters, scowling over at Zemo

“I can assure you, I won’t do anything to betray your trust. For once all of our goals are aligned that it would do us no good to go against each other.”

“I’ll hold judgment till later,” you reply bitterly.

Swifty Zemo swings on the heels of his feet, turning around to start walking away, obviously expecting all of you to follow him. Sighing in annoyance you trail after him.

As you had predicted both you and Zemo were pretending to not know each other, perhaps for the sake of the mission or perhaps for the sake of your well beings. You’re not sure if you could cope even acknowledging the past you two had. He’d been the person you had been closest to, someone you shared all your secrets, all your thoughts and feelings with. Someone who you would have taken a bullet for in the blink of an eye and to suddenly lose all of that, it wrecked you. You had finally managed to build yourself up again, to try and move on and then he comes straight back into your life. It’s as if there is some strange omnipotent god up there and it loved to torment every waking moment of your life.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asks and you all catch up with Zemo and see him walking towards what you assumed was his private aeroplane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam, my family was royalty till your friends blew up my country”

There was a slight change of tone for when he said ‘my’ not enough for Sam and Bucky to pay attention to it but enough for you to feel the slight twist in your heart as you thought back to the country that used to be yours, long ago.

As you got closer you observed a man standing by the plane, ready to welcome Zemo aboard and you felt your heart stop for a moment. Oeznik. The man had aged since you last saw him, he had fallen to the tolling of time but he still had those warm, caring eyes.

Memories swept over you of your childhood as you observed him. He has always been Zemo’s assistant, hired by Zemo’s parents when they were much younger. You could remember times when you and Zemo would be running down the corridors, not where you were supposed to be and Oeznik would find you two, not telling you off but smiling at you two, saying how Zemo’s parents were looking for him. He would sneak you two Turkish delights even if it was only an hour before dinner. Anywhere you two wanted to go he would drive you there. Whenever you slept over he would prepare your favourite meals, making sure everything was just how you liked in the room you would stay in. He was almost like another father figure to you and Zemo.

And now there he was, greeting Zemo. Zemo kissed him on the cheeks fondly before heading inside. Sam and Bucky both follow up but you take a moment to turn to look at him.

“Oeznik” you whisper

He smiles warmly down at you, placing his hand on the side of your arm. “It’s good to see you again madam”

You nod your head, unable to say anymore without letting your emotions get the better of you so you choose to head inside.

You could feel his eyes on you as you enter. You glance up to him and you know he knows why you took a little longer to get onto the plane. It was that knowing look in his eye, the slight twinkle of amusement but also sadness.

You frown realising you’d have to take a seat opposite Zemo, Sam and Bucky already choosing to sit on the other side, showing their dislike for him. You freeze for just a moment making Zemo gesture to the seat in front of him, smirking as he tilts his head. You huff, not bothering to hide your displeasure, taking the seat in front of him but refusing to even look at him.

A few minutes later Zemo chuckles as Oeznik brings out two drinks, a glass of champagne which he offers to Zemo, and a glass of rum which he offers to you. You’re favourite drink. After all this time he still remembered.

You kindly thanked Oeznik, taking the glass as you avoid the confused eyes of Sam who was wondering why you got a drink and he didn’t and the eyes of Zemo, which held an emotion you couldn’t quite recognise.

“The food is out but I will see if there is some good food in a gallery,” he tells Zemo and starts to turn away but then Zemo speaks.

“If it doesn’t pass the food test, give it to them,” he says, speaking in sokovian and gesturing to Sam and Bucky.

You weren’t prepared for the surge of pain in your heart as you heard Zemo use the language of your people. Though it had been over twenty years since you last heard it, you could still remember it perfectly.

Oeznik laughs, “It’s good to have you back sir,” he says, then nods to you before leaving again. Zemo smiles at Sam and Bucky, enjoying the notion of how they didn’t know what he said, before his eyes swiftly turn back to you, knowing you know exactly what he said.

He takes a swing of his drink before speaking again, “It’s kind of him to remember your go-to drink” he says in Sokovian.

And there it was. The first acknowledgement of the past between you two. Your eyes burn into his head as you realise just what he was doing. It was a test. He spoke in Sokovian for just you to understand, seeing if you were to take the bait and talk back in Sokovian. He wanted to see if you were willing to acknowledge the past between you two as well.

But Sam and Bucky had no idea where you were from. As far as they knew from your accent you were American and you planned to keep that secret. You weren’t going to play in Zemo’s little game, you refused to take your turn. Instead, ignoring what he had said to stare at the ground.

He waits for a few moments before accepting you weren’t going to reply. Sighing he turns to Sam and Bucky.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell” he starts “Oh, that’s right, you do” he then carries on, taunting them. If he can’t mess with you then he’ll mess with them.

“Why don’t you tell us about where you are going” Sam replies, ignoring Zemo’s attempt at taunting.

Zemo then instead turns to the book in his hand, thumbing through it. “Sorry, I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” he asks turning to Bucky

Instantly Bucky was out of his seat, his hand around Zemo’s throat pulling him back as he leans in towards his face.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you” he whispers

Zemo nods as Bucky lets him go, letting out a slight breath he had been holding in. Bucky glares as Zemo has he takes his seat again.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“But you’re not sorry” you abruptly say, making all eyes turn to you. “Ever since we’ve sat down you’ve been taunting us, trying to stir up trouble. Soon your annoyance will outweigh any use you have for us”

“I’m sorry if I have caused you any offence, Princess, it is never my intention to upset any of you”

But it was. It fucking was. Because he knew just how much pain that nickname brought to your heart. Princess. That’s what he had always referred to you as when you dated. In his eyes, you were a princess, his princess. You clench your jaw, trying to stop the tears that swelled in your eyes. Something Zemo picked up on and himself felt pained seeing your reaction.

“Don’t call her Princess. Her name is y/n” Sam says, glaring at Zemo.

“My apologies, it was my fault to refer to your girl like that”

Instantly both yours and Sam’s eyes widen at his words.

“We’re not, that’s not-” Sam starts to say, fumbling with his words

“We’re just friends” you but in, glaring at Zemo for you knew why he said that.

“Y-yeah” Sam replies, looking between you and Zemo as you stare at each other. Zemo tilts his head slightly, the edge of his lips twitching up.

“I see”

“Now perhaps you could stop taunting us, Zemo, and answer Sam’s original question about where the hell we are going”

If you had blinked you would have missed it but just for a split second, as his last name fell from your lips, you could see him flinch. These days everyone referred to him by his last name, never his first name. And although in the past you had always called him by his first name, you, like them, were using his last name. That hurt more than he thought it would.

“I’m afraid I can’t say just yet, but all will be relieved in due time’

You just groan, rolling your eyes and then choosing to stare out the window trying to forget all about the man that sat in front of you.

Hoping to alleviate the conversation Sam nods to the book Bucky took back from Zemo.

“I’ve seen that book, it’s Steve’s book for when he came out of the ice. I told him about trouble man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What did you think?”

“I like 40’s music so…” Bucky grumpily replies

“You didn’t like it!?” Sam exclaims leaning forward

“I liked it”

“It’s a masterpiece James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African American experience” Zemo buts in, speaking with his hands as he looks over to Bucky

Sams’s eyes face moves from looking at Bucky, to looking at Zemo then back to Bucky.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody likes Marvin Gaye”

Inside your head, you scoff at Zemo as he talked as if he was sophisticated with music, ‘like you didn’t listen to Nirvana all the time’ you thought. From that point you ignored what they were saying, sipping your drink as you stare out the window. Today had taken a complete turn from what you ever could have imagined it would have turned out to be. And little did you know it was about to get a whole lot messier.

“No fucking way. You can’t make me do that”

“You have to if you want to blend in for the mission” Zemo explains

“She can blend in, in many other ways, she doesn’t have to pretend to be your partner,” Sam says arguing for you

“They will be suspicious of her though and it could risk the whole mission but if she was my partner they wouldn’t be suspicious”

“He’s right y/n” Bucky adds, “I don’t want to be doing this either but if we want to find out where the super-soldier serum has come from we need to”

Zemo nods to Bucky in thanks and then looks to you, the corner of his lip twitching up in amusement that Bucky was backing him up and seeing your anger.

He was deliberately trying to antagonise you. Making you pretend to be his partner for the mission, was his way to get back at you for the pain you caused him when you broke things off. You didn’t think you could cope with having to pretend to be his partner for it, it would just bring up all the pain of what had been lost between you two, what you had to let go of. But they were right. You had to do it for the sake of the mission. If Bucky could pretend to the winter soldier again for the mission the least you could do was this.

“Are you seriously taking his side Bucky, if she doesn’t want to be that then-” Sam starts to argue but you cut him off.

“It’s okay Sam, Bucky’s right I need to do it”

Sam opens his mouth in surprise and then moves over to stand in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “No you don’t y/n, don’t listen to them”

You place your hand over Sam’s hand on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “I’ll be okay with it Sam. It’s not like I’d be dating him”

Your eyes flicker to Zemo who had been glaring at Sam now turned his eyes to you, his lips almost twitching into a frown but he stops them.

“I won’t wear that dress though,” you say, your eyes looking down to the short dress Zemo held in his arms.

He opens his mouth to argue against that as well but you stop him, “No Zemo, I won’t be wearing that, that is final”

He bites back his words, smacking his lips together as he nods, “If that is what you wish”

You weren’t ashamed of your prosthetic leg. It was a reminder to you for all you had given to people. But you weren’t about to walk around Madripoor with it being showed off to everyone. And a part of you wasn’t ready for Zemo to see you with it, though you don’t know why.

You hadn’t been to Madripoor before but it didn’t surprise you that Zemo knew the place well. It looked like the shady place you would find him in. As soon as you stepped out of the car Zemo’s arm wrapped around your waist. It fitted like nothing had changed in the time between. Your face instantly turned to him to tell him to let go but he held his finger up to your lips to stop you, “For appearance y/n, you are after all, for this evening, my partner”

Begrudgingly you accept it and don’t try to move his arm away as you walk together. Sam walks up beside you and as you turn to look at him he rolls his eyes. You chuckle at Sam then felt Zemo’s grip on your waist tighten.

As you walk into the bar Zemo takes a seat on the stool. You glance around but all the other seats had been taken. Smirking Zemo pats his lap, “Hop on princess”

You grasp onto his shoulder, pinching it harshly to cause him some pain as you position yourself on his lap, but he just chuckles at your reaction, his hand instantly going to rest on your tigh which was thankfully covered by your trousers.

“Don’t call me princess” you whisper angrily to him

He leans forward, his lips by your ear as you feel his breath, “We have to make it realistic princess, plus I think that would be the sought of a nickname I would give you if we were dating”

He presses a lip to your cheek as he pulls back from you, chuckling as he sees how your cheeks heat up and the glare you grace him with.

“Hello gentlemen and lady,” the barman says finally coming over to you, “I wasn’t expecting the smiling tiger”

“His plans changed, we have a business to do, with Selby,” Zemo says, trying to take over all conversation so no one gave themselves away.

“And she does as well?” he asks, nodding to you

“Anywhere I go she goes with me” Zemo replies, chuckling as he looks at you with a smile on his lips

“Isn’t that right princess?”

You try your best to push back the anger you felt, instead, forcing a smile as you look back at Zemo, “Of course my love” you tell him then leans forward to place a quick peck on his lips.

As your lips lightly brush against his you could hear the slight hitch in his breath and as you lean your head on his chest you wonder if he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

It’s just for appearances, that’s all you tell yourself but even though it was brief you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that comforting feeling that you hadn’t felt in so long and it was as if all the buried emotions you had come flooding back. Here you were sitting on his lap, kissing him as if nothing had changed and for a moment you wondered if that could be the case. Could you two go back to what time was like before?

But you couldn’t. Not only was it down to the fact that Zemo was a wanted criminal, but he had moved on from you. He fell in love with another, he married her. Any feelings he had for you were long gone and this was just him messing with you, and you didn’t want to let him know the feelings you still had for him after all this time.

The barman seems to accept your display though, choosing to focus on Sam instead as he makes him his ‘usual’ drink.

Zemo orders you and him a drink which you thankfully take from his hand, hoping to drown your feelings away with the alcohol.

A man comes up behind you and instantly Zemo lifted you off your lap, pushing you behind him as he stands up to face the man.

“Got word from on high, you’re not welcomed here,” he tells Zemo,

“Hm” Zemo replies, nodding as he takes the man’s words, “I have no business with the power broker, but if he insists he can either come talk to me...” he finishes, nodding over to Bucky

“Or bring Selby for a chat”

The man leaves as Bucky looks over to Zemo. As Zemo turns around once again his arm wraps around your waist.

“A power broker, really?”

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar”

“Do you know him?” you ask and Zemo looks down at you amused by your question, “Only by reputation”

“In Madripoor he is judge, jury and executioner”

Zemo’s eyes focus now on another man coming towards him. Turning back around to the bar he speaks to Bucky in Russian just as the man places his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You all turn around to watch as Bucky grabs the man and starts to attack him. You’d seen violence before but it still made you wince knowing how Bucky didn’t want to do this.

After one particular nasty hit without thinking your hand grasps onto his hand, needing something to hold on to. As soon as you realised what you had done you swiftly try to pull your hand back but Zemo holds onto it tight, refusing to let it go. You could feel his gaze turn to you but you choose to ignore his cocky face and instead focus on Bucky.

You stand out of the way as Bucky slams the man onto the table and Zemo leans forward to let Bucky know not to take it too far. That was your ticket though as then you were being shown the way to see Selby.

The meeting itself wasn’t too bad. Zemo held onto your hand as he pulled you over to sit with him. He talked to Selby while you just sat on his lap. Selby didn’t pay any attention to you, which you were thankful for. Things were going smoothly until Sam’s phone ringed.

That’s how you found yourself running along with Bucky, Sam and Zemo avoiding gunfire. As you ran you heard one gunfire and felt your prosthetic leg move slightly as the bullet went straight through it.

Zemo must have seen what happened as well, but not knowing you had a prosthetic leg, he wrapped his arms suddenly around your legs, picking you up bridal style. He ran off to the side, leaving Bucky and Sam behind as he hid you down an alleyway.

“Zemo let go of me!” you hissed, hitting him in the chest as he stopped running. He instead places you on the ground, growling at you not to move as he starts to check all his pockets in his coats. Instead, you do move, getting up off the floor and he looks at you angrily. “I said don’t move! You’ll injure yourself more”

You lean down and jank up slightly the trouser leg, showing the fake metallic leg underneath.

“I’m fine Zemo! It’s fake. Now we need to go and find Sam and Bucky”

But Zemo was frozen, staring down at your leg in shock. Because at that moment was the realisation for him. All this time he had been teasing you, testing the waters of how far he could push you to admit to the past. Messing around with you as if you were two lovesick teenagers again. But you had both changed, and he was refusing to realise that until now. Because he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact you were no longer the woman he once knew. The one person he knew better than himself and he had still half-believed that was the case until now. You had a fake leg, lost in what he assumed was the army which you and Sam had been in. He didn’t know because the truth was you were almost a stranger to him now, and he hated that. He just wanted things to be the way they once were. That’s what he desperately craved but it couldn’t be.

“Okay,” he simply says and nods, finally pulling his gaze away from your leg and up to you. Following your lead, he chases after you to find out where Sam and Bucky had gone.

Sam paced around the main room of Sharon’s house. His mind was occupied with so many thoughts it was hard to concentrate but there was one that stuck out like a splinter in a thumb. What the hell was going on between you and Zemo? He wasn’t stupid he could pick up on something, the looks two you gave each other, the tension in the air, the way you reacted when you first saw him. Sam considered himself your best friend, though you two hadn’t seen each other in ages. So it bugged him how this was obviously something big to you, and he didn’t know what it was.

Zemo sat at the table by the side, quietly drinking some whiskey. Both you and Bucky had decided to retire for the night while Sam decided to stay up just so he could find out the truth.

“You look like you are trying to burn a hole through my head by the way you are staring at me Sam” Zemo says, finally looking up from his glass to Sam who was glaring at him.

“Is something the matter?” he asks

“You and y/n. What’s up with that”

Zemo chuckles, looking back down into his glass, “Ah that”

“I’m her best friend, I know everything about her, apart from this apparently”

Zemo’s eyes snapped back to Sam but this time there was no amusement in them, instead a angry glaze as he frowned, “Best friend?” he repeats, standing up and walking over to Sam. “You hardly know her at all”

Sam scoffs as he raises an eyebrow at Zemo attempting to get into his face. “And you do?”

“Yes” Zemo instantly replies, “I know she was born in Novia Grand, Sokovia. Just like me. I know which schools she attended, the same as mine, I know what her favourite meals are, we had them whenever she came round to my house. I know her favourite band, I took her to their first concert. I know everything little thing about her Sam, and you know nothing”

Sam’s eyes widen at Zemo’s confession, realisation dawning on him. “You were childhood friends”

“More than friends Sam, we were lovers. We were the first people we dated, we were each other first kiss, we were each other first time” Zemo claims as if bragging to Sam

“Yet you didn’t know she was in the Army, you didn’t know she had a prosthetic leg did you?” Sam asks and when he sees the slight fall in Zemo’s face he smiles, “You used to know her Zemo, but obviously, you don’t know the person I know now”

With a pair of tweezers lent to you from Sharon, you pull your trouser leg up and search around in your prosthetic leg attempting to find the bullet lodged inside and pull it out. You could see the bullet but you couldn’t quite get the right angle to pull it out making you groan in annoyance.

You were about to throw the tweezers across the room in anger when you heard a knock against the door. You were currently sitting in one of Sharon’s guest rooms as lot were staying at Sharon’s place for the night to rest up then go and find the scientist tomorrow morning.

“Y/n?” you hear his voice call out from the other side

You sigh rolling your eyes, “What do you want” you snap

“May I come in? We need to talk”

“I don’t want to talk”

You hear the click of the door and Zemo pushes it open to stare at you in a slight annoyance. His eyes then move down to the tweezers in your hand and your leg. He takes a few steps towards you, his hand out as he closes the door.

“Let me”

You hesitate for a moment but finally, give in and hand him the tweezers. He pulls out a seat beside you and gently puts the tweezers through the hole in your leg.

“How did it happen?” he asks as he concentrates on your leg while at the same time trying to create polite conversation.

“Like most injuries out there. One of the soldiers was on the floor, shot a round of bullets into my leg. The doctor there couldn’t save my leg so I had to get it amputated”

He nods, finally grasping the bullet with the tweezers and started to pull it out. “Serving in the army, it’s admirable. Something very like you. I was in the Sokovian armed forces. EKO scorpion”

You nod as you watch him pull the bullet out and place it to the side. “I remember reading about it in the news”

His eyes, flickering to you, glimmer with amusement. “So you kept track of me?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he caught you out. You glance away from his intense stare instead to the table. “Did you really expect that I didn’t? You once were my best friend Zemo. It’s hard to let that go. I saw you got married, had a child. I’m sorry about what happened to them”

It was Zemo’s turn to look away now, feeling the pain in his heart ignite as he thinks back to his previous family. “My son, he was born on your birthday”

“I’m surprised you remember my birthday”

He smiles slightly, finally turning his eyes back to yours, “Of course I do. Every year I’d drink a toast to you. You said that I was your best friend and hard to let go of that. Well, it’s the same both ways y/n. I couldn’t just forget about your existence.”

“I had to leave” you whisper

“I know. I know why you left, and I know why you broke up with me in the first place”

Your eyes flash to his in surprise and widen seeing how they were swarmed with tears. “Because of my family, they never would of let us marry because of your status. Y/n I would have left all of that behind for you, without a second thought”

Shaking your head you reply, “I couldn’t have asked that of you Zemo”

“And that’s one of the reasons why you are so perfect. You always put me before you, now this time I am asking you to finally let yourself choose. If you want me to leave say and I will leave. But if you don’t say I will stay with you, and I won’t let you leave again”

“We’re not who we once were, Helmut” you mutter, finally letting yourself use his first name and with that, he already knew your choice. His hand goes up to cradle the side of your face gently, moving it nearer to him.

“Then let’s discover each other, all over again”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed his lips on you, fitting perfectly against yours as if they were made for you. He poised there, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but his lips smirked as you started to move your lips on him, crashing them on top of his for action, which he kindly gave.

His tongue poked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. One which you allow as you wrap your fingers behind his neck, getting tangled in his hair.

You could hardly believe this is where you were, once again with Zemo, his lips upon yours, desire between your legs. In the last twenty years, you had often dreamt of reuniting with Zemo, experiencing this moment again but you never thought it would happen. But here you were.

His hands travelled down your back, swooping under your butt as you wrapped your leg around his waist. Swiftly he lifts you off the chair and walks you over to the bed, placing you down on it and crawling on top of you.

His lips trail down your cheek, across your jawline and down onto your neck, sucking on that delicate pulse spot. A moan escapes from your lips and he pulls back chuckling. “For so long now I’ve longed to hear you moan for me Princess”

You just groan, your hand pushing his face back into your neck making him laugh but he quickly goes back to making a hickey on it. His fingers trail down to your shirt, slowly lifting it and once again he pulls away to be able to lift the shirt off you.

He holds back for a moment to admire your beauty. His hands move behind your back and swiftly undoes the clasps on your bra, tugging it off. He groans seeing you for all your glory and buries his head in your boobs. ‘Oh how I have missed these’

While his mouth latches onto your breasts, smothering them in kisses as his hands go to undo the buttons on your trousers. He starts to tug them down, with no sense of being gentle but rather a primal urge taking over him. He manages to tug them off you and then his lips move down even further. He trails his tongue from your breasts down your belly, leaving a trail of saliva. As he reaches your underwear, his teeth latch onto it. With a slight groan from his lips, he then pulls them off, sliding them down your legs and flicking them off to the floor along with your other discarded clothes.

He sighs in contentment as he buries his face into the side of your thigh as his fingers trail your prosthetic leg. Leaning forward he places a kiss on it, then trails upwards, littering it in soft kisses. The only softness you’ll be experiencing tonight.

As you feel him get nearer your core you let out a shudder in anticipation, as you shudder you feel his lips suddenly press against your core. He instantly latches into your clit, his tongue dancing on it, twisting it in circular motions. Your hands instantly grasp his hair, holding him close to your core, not letting him go. Not that he ever want to. Sandwiched between your legs is where he belonged.

“If I remember correctly, you always liked this part”

You let out a shocked gasp as suddenly a finger presses against your entrance and then slips inside of you, with ease from how wet you have become. He slides the finger all the way into the end, letting a moan rip out of your throat.

“It seems I do remember correctly”

“Instead of commentating everything why don’t you put that mouth to good use” you groan, pushing his face back into your crotch. His tongue instantly went back to your clit as he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, making sure it brushes against your walls. As you start to let more little moans he thrusts another finger inside, opening slightly to stretch you out.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he worked his tongue on your clit and his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. Then his fingers hit just at that right spot and your walls fluttered around him. You hardly got enough time to choke out a warning before you were gushing all over his fingers. When your climax started to edge away he pulled his face back from your clit, removing his fingers and while holding your eye contact he stuck his tongue out, lapping up your juices on his fingers.

He moans slightly as he licks it up, his eyes fluttering half close, ‘Mine Gott, I forgot just how good you tasted’

“Well let’s see if you are as good with that dick as you were in the past” you tease, pulling his face towards your to encompass in another kiss. As your hands hold his face to yours his fingers feel up the side of your waist, ghosting over your skin creating goosebumps.

You could sense when his fingers started to trail to his trousers though and you pull away from his lips making him whine.

“Strip for me”

He tilts his head smirking as he looks up into your playful eyes. “As you wish my princess,” he says as he climbs off you, standing at the end of the bed. Slowly he tugs off his large coat off, laying it on the side of the bed. Next, he works on his turtleneck, slowly tugging it up to his chest, then over his head. Soon it joins the steady growing pile of discarded clothes. Next, he quickly tugged down his trousers and boxers, his patience starting to wear thin.

As he pulled them down exposing his dick you hummed in approval. “Now isn’t that a sight for sore eyes”

“And you were complaining at me for talking” Zemo murmurs, stepping forward to crawl back onto you but your hold your hand up to stop him. “Put the coat back on”

“I see in our time apart you’ve become more demanding,” he says as he picks up the coat and slides it back onto his naked body. As he finally gets to crawl back on top of you, you grasp the fur collar and pull him closer to your face.

You run your fingers through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. Parts of it fell onto his forehead. His hands move down to hold his dick by your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. For a moment he hesitates, moving his head to rest against your forehead in anticipation.

“You’re still as beautiful as when I last saw you”

With that, he pushes into you, rather quickly because of how desperate he was to feel you around him. As he bottoms out he groans, pushing his face into the crook of the neck as you grasp the back of his head gasping. He stays still for a minute, treasuring the feeling of your walls clasping onto him. Then slowly he pulls mostly out of you, till just his head hung in your, and then thrust back into you.

He started to pick up speed, hearing the increase of your moans against his ear. His grunts and moans start to intertwine with yours as you both chase your pleasure.

“Gott, you are so perfect my princess. You feel so good around me” he’d groan into your ear as his hips thrust repeatedly into your, the sounds echoing on the walls of the room. His fingers sneak down your belly to your core, rubbing against your clit. Instantly your back was arched and your fingers grasped onto the coat.

“God Helmut, I don’t remember you being this good” you moan and with your words he speeds up, pumping inside of you. His head kept brushing up inside that perfect spot inside and with his fingers twisting on your clit you could feel your climax steadily approaching.

“H-Helmut, I’m going to, soon I’m-” you tried to get out between moans but there was no need to as Zemo could feel how close you were for the way your walls clung around him tightly.

“Come for me Princess, let me feel you. I need to feel you again my love, after so long”

And his words were music to your ears as you feel the knot within you snap and your wetness gushing over his dick. Zemo bites down on your neck, trying to be gentle, as he feels your walls grasp you even tiger as he thrusts into you. Not long after he felt his own release coming and as you lay there panting he thrusts in time to his release until he squeezed out every last drop.

He hovers over you for a moment, panting, wanting to remain in your warmth for just a moment longer but eventually he pulls out and collapse beside you.

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you Helmut” you whisper

“No my princess, thank you for forgiving me for everything I’ve ever done to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t deserve your love but I desperately need it. I won’t lose you again my darling”

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silverflame2724 · 3 years

Note

Happy Prompt (if you feel like it): WWX being the genius/ex first disciple of great scet that he is realizes they can't sustain the Burial Mounds. So he comes up with a Plan to make them all dissappear. Knowing how important lineage is so them, he asks them to give up the Wen name and take up Wei. (The wens are mostly common folk who just want to live so they agree). He the proceeds to hide them among other clans. People who have met and remember all the good young master Wie always did. He hides them among the Jiang and Nie. (I always head cannon that part of WWX'S flirty reputation comes from him helping women who are in bad situations/ NHS somehow finds out/knows and begins to help him. I figure theyhad to get several Lan women out. Mama Lans ghost helps?). JC knows but ignores it, they aren't WENS anymore, so his pride can leave it be. I'm not sure if A'yuan would still end up with Lan Zhan? But then WWX, WN, and WQ all fake thier deaths and go travel as rogue cultivators. But now WWX has all these living and dead people praying to/for him as the patron Saint of lost causes? And he accidentally becomes an immortal without realizing it? To the absolute fond disgust of WQ, of course. Anyway, I figure old Jin perv still pulls his bullshit at a discussion conference and between NHS, JYL, and LWJ? They somehow clear everyone's nsme. And then newly immortal WWX rocks up in there (to the horror of the Lan Elders who now have to face thier own bullshit/ hypocrisy) and lives happily ever after.

I think I read a prompt or a fic somewhere with the concept of the Wens hiding in plain sight.

________________________

The thought came to him out of nowhere.

It had been a peaceful day with the Wens as he farmed, invented and tinkered with various incomplete contraptions when Wei Wuxian was struck with a thought: they could not continue like this.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that they couldn’t sustain themselves in the Burial Mounds. Their crops hardly prospered, one by one the more elderly individuals of the Wens got sick and died, the resentful energy messed with everyone’s temperament, the cultivators never stopped trying to break his wards.....the list went on and on.

He had to come up with a plan. He thought they could live here for a time, but that was just wishful thinking.

With this in mind, he takes the next few days to come up with a concrete plan.

...............................

The first task, and perhaps the most important one, is to ask the Wens to give up the Wen name. It would be easier from then on.

As he presented this suggestion, he was surprised by how readily they agreed. He knew how important lineage was to them, so the rapidness of them giving up their name was shocking.

“Would you......take up my name?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly.

The Wens were silent before cheering. Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this. The Wens told him that they were more than happy to accept his name since they were his family.

Wei Wuxian held back the tears and laughed happily instead as he went on to tell him the next plan of action: hiding them in plan sight.

Various people from various clans owed him favors and remembered the good in him, as they were more than happy to take on the refugees he hid away now that they were no longer Wens.

They had to do this quietly and slowly though. It would be suspicious if a large group of people suddenly left Yiling all at once. So Wei Wuxian took each of them to different places. Some of them went back to their original homes, some went to the Nie, some to the Yao, some to the Ouyang clan.

He even sends some to the small village of women who he helped run away from their horrible home situations.

It was a little tricky with Nie, but Nie Huaisang pulls through and Nie Mingjue suspects nothing.

He sends some to the Jiang and Jiang Cheng grudgingly accepts them, knowing that they are no longer Wen.

And for A’ Yuan.......He sends A’ Yuan to Lan Zhan, who is familiar with A’ Yuan. Wei Wuxian sends a letter to Lan Zhan asking him to meet and instead of appearing, A’ Yuan is there in his stead. The letter to Lan Zhan details what to do with A’ Yuan and to hide his identity.

Wei Wuxian trusts that Lan Zhan would take his suggestion and tell his brother and uncle that A’ Yuan was a child that Lan Zhan was asked to take care of by a dying mother.

Wei Wuxian watches from afar as Lan Zhan takes A’ Yuan away and takes the last step in ensuring that the cultivation world forgets him: He fakes his, Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s deaths. There’s enough corpses in the Burial Mounds and ones with their physique to replace the Wens and him. He gossips to the town that he’s going to destroy his weapon, the Seal, and subsequently fakes an explosion of resentment, quickly disappearing with the Wen siblings to a random direction.

He always thought how nice it would be to be like his parents and be rogue cultivators. He guesses that he’ll find out now.

..................................

Years pass and Wei Wuxian makes decent salary by taking care of monsters in the area. Wen Qing is a doctor, of course, and Wen Ning becomes her assistant.

They move to a little village near Dongying and settle down there. The people there a little more open to demonic cultivation and dark arts and don’t bat an eye at Wei Wuxian using such means.

Wei Wuxian invents more contraptions, selling them under a false name in towns far away from Dongying.

One day, on a chance night hunt near Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hears whispers and gossip about Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli clearing his name and capturing the actual people responsible.

He’s happy to hear this. Overjoyed. But that doesn’t mean he’ll gladly return to the cultivation world. He’s had enough of that life.

He walks around town for a bit longer, catching bits of gossip here and there. As explores the town, wine jug in hand, he nearly chokes around a mouthful of wine as he sees a small shrine encasing a statue of his likeness. What.....the hell??

He quickly asks around and finds out that people are praying to him for protection. Wei Wuxian squirms a little at this, glad he’s wearing a weimao to cover his face.

All of this...praying makes him uncomfortable. Not long ago, people were spitting on his name and now he’s suddenly become some sort of Patron for protection? The change is remarkable and cements Wei Wuxian’s decision to firmly stay out of the cultivation world.

People’s opinions change like a tide and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to stick around long enough for them to switch back. He sighs, disposing of his empty jug, and leaves the town.

.......

Surprisingly, that’s not the end of the changes.

He got careless on a night hunt and ends up with the claw of a yaoguai piercing him all the way through his stomach. When the yaoguai pulled out its claw, though......Wei Wuxian healed quickly. Too quickly.

He recovers from the shock at this and finishes off the yao.

What just happened?

A quick trip to Wen Qing answered everything.

“Congratulations.” Wen Qing says dryly. “You’re an immortal.”

“........What.”

Wen Qing sighs, “From what you told me, you healed unnaturally quickly, right?”

Wei Wuxian nods.

“There have only been records of immortals recovering that quickly. Even Wen Ruohan healed slower than you did.”

“But I don’t have a core???”

“You do. Sort of.” Wen Qing replies. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t you felt it.”

“.....” I mean, I did think it was odd that I didn’t freeze to death in the winter or die of hunger when money became tight over these years, but I thought those were side effects of demonic cultivation! Wei Wuxian quickly goes through the motions of feeling for his core, willing the surge of hope he felt down.

And he......didn’t feel a core. He felt more of a large mass of energy congregated in his dantian.

Wei Wuxian is glad that he is sitting down right now because he feels very faint. “But.....this......how?”

“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve become some sort of Patron Saint?” Wei Wuxian nods. “It’s rare, but cultivators can gain power from prayers. Take Wen Ruohan for example.”

“He became powerful through the same means?”

“Yes. Well, his people believed him to be all powerful, not so much as what people are praying to you. As the Sunshot alliance chipped down on his people, so too did they chip down on Wen Ruohan’s power.”

“So if people stop praying to me, I’ll stop being immortal.”

“Yes and no. Right now, there’s just a mass of energy concentrated there. It’s basically unrefined energy. All you have to do is refine that power into a core and cultivate normally. Otherwise, yes. You will lose this power as soon as people stop praying to you.”

“I see.......”

Wen Qing raises an eyebrow and brandishes her needles. “What are you doing just sitting here? Go and cultivate!”

“Aiya, Qing-jie! I’m in shock here, give me a moment to absorb this all!”

“I have patients to see! Get your ass to your room and cultivate!”

“Are you my mom or something?”

Wen Qing’s expression turns thunderous.

Wei Wuxian didn’t want to provoke her any further despite wanting to banter more and left to his room.

..................................

“You should visit your siblings.” Wen Qing says one day. “And Hanguang-Jun. I want to hear about how A’ Yuan is doing.”

“Where did this come from?”

“Wei Wuxian.” Wen Qing says patiently. “It’s been over a decade. Your name and our name has long since been cleared. People no longer hate you. And.....they miss you. Your siblings have commemorated the day you “died” and go into mourning for that day. Hanguang-Jun is a little subtler but he wears a mourning sash now.”

“They’ll be better off without me.”

“Says who?”

“The rest of the world.” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“And why should you care for their opinion? You never seemed to mind it.”

“Ummm.....Lan Zhan hates me? Jiang Cheng might resent me? And Shij---Jiang-guniang---the Young Madam Jin has a life already.”

“First, if Hanguang-Jun hates you, why would he frequently glare at people who badmouthed you?”

“Because he’s a good person. How do you know this anyway?”

“I have friends. Try again. Hanguang-Jun is a famously reticent person. Would he do this for every person?”

“.........I don’t know.”

“The answer is no.”

Wei Wuxian pouts.

Wen Qing then begins to tell him how Jiang Cheng frequently takes demonic cultivators back with him in hopes that one of them would be Wei Wuxian and even added Wei Wuxian back to the Jiang sect register. Jiang Yanli smiles while ruthlessly talking people into apologizing every time she hears something bad said about Wei Wuxian.

She even lectures him on his feelings towards Lan Wangji, that he would entrust A’ Yuan to him.

Wen Qing closes off her speech with threats of her needles if Wei Wuxian doesn’t get his ass over there.

“There’s a Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, wait till they’re done and go meet them.”

Wei Wuxian, sufficiently threatened, hightails it back to what was his home.

.......

Wei Wuxian also decidedly forgets that he was supposed to wait for the Conference to end. Well, he had assumed that they would be done considering the empty state of the area in front of the conference room and stupidly bursts through the door to a room full of people.

Wei Wuxian blinks, “Uhh......”

“Wei Wuxian?!”

“Wei Ying?!”

“A’ Xian?!”

Wei Wuxian tittered from side to side, “Hello, all! I bet you thought I was dead! Well, you guessed wrong! Hahaha......”

..............................

Lan Wangji did not know what this time’s discussion conference would be like. He expected Jin Guangshan to try and subtly slander Wei Ying. He expected Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin and himself to stand up for Wei Ying, as he was unable to do before Wei Ying died.

But he certainly didn’t expect Wei Ying, who he thought was dead, burst into the room.

Everyone was silent as soon as they heard Wei Ying speak, but soon burst into a cacophony of noise.

Continuing the Discussion Conference was futile after that and it was quickly closed. Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying be surrounded by many people, some crying, some happily angry, some exasperated and he couldn’t help his reaction after seeing him once again.

He rushes forward and hugs him.

“Wha--Lan Zhan?”

“You’re alive.” Lan Wangji breathes, voice full of wonder. “You’re alive.”

Wei Ying’s arms come up around him and Lan Wangji feels the strong heart beat through their robes. His elders yell at him for his shamelessness and he comes back to himself, embarrassed at his lack of control.

“Aww, Lan Zhan! I’m so glad you missed me!”

“Mn. Missed Wei Ying a lot.”

A slight blush rose to Wei Ying’s cheeks and he laughed, a little shy. Lan Wangji couldn’t help his response to hearing his laugh again after so, so long. He kissed him.

The crowd gasped around them and Lan Wangji pulled back quickly, wanting the ground to swallow him up. But then......Wei Ying kissed him back.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How bold of you! To steal a kiss from me in public!” He giggles, not seeming mad at all and even pressing forward, tangling his fingers in his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji’s breath stutters at the gesture.

“You’d better take responsibility!”

Is Wei Ying asking what I think he’s asking? “Responsibility?”

“Yes! You took a kiss from me in public! It looks like I can’t marry anymore.”

“Will marry Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji replies, voice hoarse, ignoring the cries of outrage from his elders, the angry shouts from Jiang Wanyin, and the smirks from Jiang Yanli and his brother. “Will take responsibility.”

“I hope that isn’t the only reason.”

This is his chance to come clean. Lan Wangji already told himself that he wouldn’t hold himself back if he met Wei Ying again. “Like Wei Ying. Love Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying laughs brightly. “I like Lan Zhan too. Now, you’ll finally admit we’re close?”

Lan Wangji ignores everyone, eyes only on Wei Ying as they should have always been, “Mn. Let’s get married.”

___________________________

I feel like Lan Wangji may be a bit OOC......hmm. Well, whatever. I finally got this done and with that, I think I’ve cleared all the prompts I haven’t answered, so asks will open up again!

Hope you all enjoyed this!

#wei ying #wei wuxian #wen qing #wen ning #wen qionglin #lan zhan #lan wangji #wen remnants #lan yuan #canon divergent au #wei wuxian hides the wen remnants #immortal wei wuxian #fluff #confessions #JYL and NHS and LWJ clear WWX and the Wen remnants' names #this is only happy #I hope

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quissum-ego · 3 years

Text

A Look At Whip It (2009) Through A Trans Lens

** A preliminary note: throughout this post, I will be referring to Bliss with he/they pronouns, both out of respect for Elliot Page, as well as the fact that it feels right for the character. You’ll see why. Thank you for understanding! (:

I rarely make my own posts on Tumblr, but this feels important enough to deviate from that streak a little bit, since I think this is something more people should be talking about. Now, as some of you may know, Whip It is a 2009 comedy-drama film directed by Drew Barrymore. The film is an adaptation of the 2007 novel Derby Girl (a.k.a Whip It) by Shauna Cross. Both the film and the novel follow the life of Bliss Cavendar, a Texas teen pursuing their newfound roller derby dream behind the backs of their parents. While I am by no means saying the novel or the film intended for Bliss to be trans, as a trans masc person myself, I cannot help but pick up on the similarities. Let’s dive right in with some quotes from Cross’ novel.

There are a couple instances throughout the text where Bliss expresses a dislike for his given name.

“ [ ... ] Bliss is not gonna cut it (I’ve been telling Brooke that for years.)”

Bliss’ struggle with his mother-given name and his complete awe at the fact that people (specifically the roller derby girls) so freely adapt an alternative name really hit home with me, personally. His feelings towards his birth name mirror the way myself and many of my trans friends feel, and these feelings were especially strong for me when I was around Bliss’ age. It is apparent that he has wanted a different name to better express himself for years, something that his mother looks down upon.

On a similar note, there are multiple instances where Bliss wonders who he really is, and how he can find and reclaim his own sense of self.

1. “I suddenly wonder what else I have in me that’s been stunted by too many years of pageant participation.”

Bliss would have little-to-no chance to explore how he wants to present himself when around his mother, but the world of roller derby slowly begins to open that door. Leading a double life that his parents don’t know about becomes his ticket to exploring aspects of himself that otherwise might have been pushed down.

2. “In an effort to shake off the pink-suit residue and reclaim my personal identity [...]”

Bliss resorts back to what he feels most comfortable in (graphic t-shirts) in an effort to “reclaim [his] personal identity”. Instead of the traditionally feminine ways that his mother has come to expect of him, Bliss finds comfort in his personal identity that is the exact opposite.

3. “Who are you [...]” “[...] I’ve been wondering that my entire life.”

Bliss struggles with his identity, and obviously has for as long as he can remember.

4. “You don’t even know me!”

“Bliss, you’re only sixteen. You don’t even know who you are.”

“I know I’m not Miss Bluebonnet [...] I know that much.”

Bliss emotionally retorts to the fact that he may not know who he is with the fact that he knows he is not a pageant girl. The identity he has found through roller derby triumphs over the Miss America cage Brooke has tried so hard to secure. He knows who he is, and she can no longer dictate that for him.

In the final two passages, Bliss’ parents begin to come around to the idea of him playing roller derby (an identity of his that feels like an ongoing metaphor for being LGBT).

“But you - you’re Babe Ruthless.”

“[...] she’s not only giving me my skates, but my freedom.”

In the end, Bliss’ mother accepts that he has come to be “Babe Ruthless”, and in giving him his skates to compete, she is giving him freedom. Brooke has finally accepted that Bliss may not be the person she believed him to be, but she wants him to be happy regardless.

“Not that Earl would ever say it, but I’ve always had a feeling he would have loved to have had a football-playing son. I think me playing Roller Derby might be the next best thing.”

Earl would have loved to have a sports-loving son, and Bliss sees his love for roller derby as the next best thing. He is, in his own way, the son Earl never knew he had.

The film adaptation of Whip It offers many great moments that carry this theme of roller derby being used as a metaphor for Bliss being trans.

After dying his hair blue before an important pageant in what feels like an act of defiance against his mother, Bliss is saddened to return home from the hair salon with it all washed out. When Earl notices the family coming home, he exclaims, “Dang it, girl, what has gotten into you?” to which Bliss replies with, “Just defective, I guess.”

Bliss feels defective in the world of beauty pageants because it is so opposing to who he is, and the life he wants to live. All he’s known thus far has been a complete 180 from himself, rendering him to feel out of place.

When Bliss first sees the derby league out in Austin, he is instantly enamored. His wish to live as freely as they do and express himself away from his mother is what drives him towards wanting to join the league.

After the game, Bliss expresses that the league are his new heroes. Maggie encourages him to be his own hero, to go out and live freely.

The film evolves into Bliss leading a double life. His parents believe he is studying with an SAT prep group, while in reality, he is training and playing with the roller derby league. One life where Bliss has to practice for pageants, study, and be who his mother wants him to be, and a second life where “Babe Ruthless” can follow his heart and be himself. The more Bliss embraces his inner Babe Ruthless, the more confident he becomes, both on the track as well as in school, as he finally begins standing up to bullies.

A key moment in the film comes when Bliss’ parents discover his roller derby promotional poster, and his secret double life becomes a lot less secret. The dialogue throughout the scene feels heavily trans-coded, particularly as Bliss cries out for his mother to “[...] stop shoving [her] psychotic idea of 50′s womanhood down [Bliss’] throat”. Bliss explains how he knows his parents wouldn’t have accepted the life where he feels he is truly himself, and the confrontation ends with them parting ways, and Bliss temporarily running away.

After reconciling with his parents and agreeing to participate in the pageant, Bliss initially believes his roller derby dreams to be a thing of the past. On the night of the pageant, however, Bliss’ father warms up to the idea, and seeks out Bliss’ teammates. They all arrive at the venue of the pageant to surprise Bliss.

When Brooke (naturally) disagrees with Earl’s change of heart, he expresses that he “[...] can not taking losing the chance for (our) kid to be happy.”

His parents make it to the game, and end up coming around to the fact that this is who Bliss is, and perhaps who he has always been. After the match, Bliss meets up with his mother to talk with her.

She comes to terms with the fact that she can’t change what Bliss is going to do in life, and he expresses that he needs to know she can accept him. She admits that it will be hard, but ultimately she will try, which is all that Bliss truly hoped for.

The film closes with Bliss’ mother reading his pageant speech and putting away the custom gown (perhaps accepting that this chapter of their lives has closed), Earl putting up a Babe Ruthless sign on the Cavendar’s front lawn in support of their kid, and Bliss sitting atop the Oink Joint, seemingly at peace with this newfound joy in his life. He has found himself, and found what he truly loves doing, and he now knows that he has people in his life who support him through and through.

All in all, while I am aware this is just one way to interpret the film, I wanted to share my thoughts because this has made his film truly special to me. If you haven’t already, give the film a watch. It is more than worth your time. I’d love to hear your thoughts, if you picked up on any of the same themes as me, or what you thought if this post ended up encouraging you to watch the film.

Thanks for sticking around and reading to the end. You’re the coolest. (~:

#Whip It #Elliot Page #Drew Barrymore #Bliss Cavendar #filmedit #lgbt #trans #transgender #film analysis

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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The Bones (Reid Series) Part 1

Summary: Almost a year after Maeve’s death, Spencer reaches out to the recipients of Maeve’s donated organs to reconnect with his lost love. However, when the receiver of her heart, Reader, doesn’t write back, Spencer goes on a poorly-motivated mission to find her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing)

A/N: There is an OC in this story because to me, writing “(y/n)” over and over again cheapens the story and doesn’t flow well. It was a personal decision, and to anyone it sincerely bothers, I’m sure there’s a way you can insert your own name instead. This fic is also inspired by “Things We Know By Heart” by Jessi Kirby. Category: Series, Soft Angst, Eventual Smut + NSFW content* Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC Content Warning: allusions to death, mourning, loss, recovery, arrhythmia (this is an intro chapter, so it’ll get more interesting from here I promise) Word Count: 2.2k

This will be a multi-part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It all started that first autumn after Maeve’s death - just five weeks past a year since I parted with her. I was absentmindedly reading when, rather out of the blue, Mary Donovan called to inform me about a Mrs. Rachel Larsen.

Although we didn’t learn her actual name until later, she was first known to us as the recipient of Maeve’s liver. Not a single one of the three of us - Maeve’s parents and me - had expected a recipient to be in contact with us. That inability to predict such an event was caused by my neglect to remember Maeve was an organ donor. It wasn’t particularly relevant in the grand scheme of things, and for that forgetfulness, I was truly ashamed, but after reading Rachel Larsen’s letter together with the Donovans, it all came back to me.

Every single thing.

You see, despite the anonymity of the person writing to us, it was as if I could actually feel Maeve’s soul coming alive again, as strange as that sounds.

She was still here with me ... in some form.

Later that night, when I would return to an empty apartment, I would wonder why I hadn’t thought of reaching out to the recipients before. Even though I’d already started writing a thank you letter back to Rachel, the thirst for more of Maeve became increasingly insatiable.

While I did have fond memories of her to live by, I couldn’t thrive off of them in the way that I did with that letter. Our only moments together worth reliving were those spent over the phone, a time when I didn’t even know what she looked like. But that letter from Rachel Larsen ... it was somehow more wholesome and pure than any memory of the living Maeve that I could cultivate.

You could say I was doing this to ease my mourning, meaning it should’ve made me feel better, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating away at me piece by piece as I wrote letters to the rest of the recipients.

The Donovans had no idea I was doing this, but I reasoned to myself that they would appreciate the surprise. Though they were still undeniably riddled with grief, smiles embellished their sullen faces when they read about Rachel’s quality of life now with a new liver. So maybe, just maybe, hearing from the rest of the receivers would be good for us all. At least, that’s what I told myself.

In one of those rare moments when inspiration strikes and it courses through your veins at the speed of lightning, I found myself being more productive than I had been in nearly a year. By midnight, I’d successfully composed five letters, each dedicated to the receiver of one of Maeve’s major organs - none of which, though, included my identity.

Given the fragile process of contacting the transplant coordinators, getting consent forms, and premeeting counseling, it would be months, if not years, before I would be able to really speak with these faceless people. Nothing against Donor Family Services - I’m sure they do the best they can - but for me, their best wasn’t good enough. So instead, I enlisted the help of someone I knew could never let me down.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Penelope peered up at me from her seat, her pinky finger hesitantly hovering over the ‘enter’ button.

“Yes.”

With just one click, she discovered the addresses of each one of those faceless people. This singular operation, albeit somewhat unethical, was the final piece to my puzzle. All there was left to do now was send the letters to them, with the tenuous hope they might send one back.

Luckily for me, not a single recipient questioned how I managed to find them or why this process wasn’t being handled by Donor Family Services, but I suppose if they did wonder those things, they didn’t feel comfortable asking me. Especially not after they learned who I was in relation to their donor. I didn’t intend to guilt-trip anyone with what I wrote in my letters nor did I want to take advantage of anyone’s empathy, but how could you possibly make a foe out of your organ donor’s grieving boyfriend? Exactly - you can’t. So you don’t. Instead, you send an inviting letter back, telling me you’d love to meet. Which is what four of them did.

Only one person didn’t reply, and while an 80% success rate was great, I simply couldn’t let this one go. Trust me, I would have ... had it been any other organ.

For quite some time, I was the one with Maeve’s heart.

I just needed to see where it was now.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The heart has several definitions and corresponding connotations.

Scientifically speaking, the heart is a hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation. However, figuratively, the heart can be seen as the central or innermost part of something. The heart of a city, for example. But in literature, the heart is symbolic of love. It is often regarded as the source of all knowledge, which is where the comparison between the head and the heart comes from. The head operates logically, whereas the heart functions emotionally, but despite the rationality the head holds, the heart is what people advise you to listen to because it holds the ultimate truth.

The heart, because it is equipped with your truest feelings, supersedes any logic and reason the head might hold.

But you see, I only ever knew Maeve’s mind. I could understand the inner workings of it - I’d probably be able to navigate through her consciousness if I entered it given the fact that our intellect matched one another’s - and I shared nearly identical thought processes with her, but that was all that I ever knew.

And if that was how much knowledge she held in her head alone, then, undoubtedly, her heart held so much more.

Science defines the heart as an organ. Figurative language uses the heart to establish a focal point. Literature likens the heart to love. But I compare her heart to the ocean. Like the sea, Maeve’s heart was 80% undiscovered, and exploration was simply calling my name.

For that reason, and that reason alone, I couldn’t abandon my pursuit of it.

That’s not to say I wasn’t ashamed of this mission, though. If anything, shame for the man I had become in the face of Maeve’s death was the only feeling I was truly capable of anymore. Any other emotions were fleeting or insincere.

Unfortunately, that slimy, disgusting feeling was only amplified times ten when I found myself driving two hours and forty-five minutes to get to Virginia Beach.

No sane man would drive this far on a weekday for even their most prized possession, and yet here I was, exactly 180 miles away from home, seeking out someone who hadn’t had the courtesy to even write me back, let alone agree to meet with me. Who knows if she’d even give me the time of day.

She being Valerie.

“Valerie Elise Bishop was born on August 5th, 1988 in Henderson, Nevada, to parents Andrew and Sara, but when Valerie turned seventeen, she was diagnosed with arrhythmia,” Garcia explained to me over the phone on the car ride here. “It’s when-”

“When the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don't work properly, causing your heart to beat too fast, too slow or irregularly,” I accidentally cut in. Realizing I interrupted Garcia, I brought her back into the conversation by asking, “I know there are more than 3 million cases per year in the U.S, but isn’t it usually common for ages 60 or older?”

“You are most certainly correct, Boy Wonder. It is more common in ages 60 and older, however, her maternal grandmother passed away from arrhythmia, so the family history increased the likelihood.”

At the sound of this news, I had to pull the car over and physically stop just so I could grasp the weight of what I was really doing.

“In Henderson, Nevada ... maternal grandmother passed away ... family history increased the likelihood …” Garcia’s voice rang in my head.

It was then that I came face to face with the gravity of reality.

Valerie wasn’t just a faceless name or a recipient of Maeve’s heart, she was a person. And her humanity only became more apparent to me the more Penelope spoke.

For god’s sake, she and I grew up in the same state. She and I saw the same sunsets from the same little corner of the earth. She drove down the same highways and byways - we might’ve even crossed paths at one point or another! Not to mention that she lost her grandmother to the same disease that she was suffering from, and if there was one thing consistent about arrhythmia, it was very likely she’d been living with it for decades, if not her entire lifetime. It’s a long term disease that takes years to improve but only seconds to kill. All it would take is just one irregular beat, and she’d be dead. How can you possibly live with that constant fear looming over your head?

She is a person. I had to remind myself. Not just a means to explore more of Maeve.

“Hey, Garcia,” I turned the car back on. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I could just feel panic begin to rise in Garcia.

“No, I’m not talking about life, I’m talking about this.” Though she couldn’t see, I grandly gestured to the location, the car, and the passenger seat that was cluttered with files on Valerie. “I don’t feel right invading her privacy like this. It’s just selfish.”

I wasn’t the only one mourning something here.

“Are you sure?” Penelope clarified. Which was ironic considering she was the one who was unsure of doing any of this, to begin with. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have dragged Garcia into this. Something as immoral as this was totally against her character, but she did it anyway because her loyalty to her friends conquers all.

Like I said, my shame multiplied times ten. If not for Valerie, then certainly for Penelope.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m heading home.”

“Okay,” She softly returned. “Be safe.”

“Oh, and Garcia?” I asked before ending the call. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Dr. Reid.”

By the time I ended the call, the sun was already setting - that’s how long I’d been on the road for. The nearly-three-hour drive I would have to make for the second time today meant I wouldn’t be home in time to beat the pitch-black sky, so considering I was already in for a long night, I made a little detour for the one thing I couldn’t go home without.

A piping hot cup of coffee.

I felt something as rewarding as caffeine was well deserved for the self-restraint I demonstrated minutes ago. And maybe it was my exhaustion, both mental and physical, that brought me to the near conclusion that I would truly let this go, but I was honestly feeling like I could accept this. An 80% acceptance rate. Not bad, right?

Though I was basically half-asleep while waiting for my coffee, I could not miss the barista when she said, “Valerie! Your order’s ready!”

What are the chances?

A jolt of energy surged through my body and brought me back to life, causing me to whip my head around at the slightest semblance of movement. On instinct, my gaze gravitated to the woman walking towards the front counter. My pull to her was so strong that even if I hadn’t studied file upon file on her that included pictures of what she looked like, I still would’ve recognized her in a heartbeat.

I just knew. That’s her.

I had no plan whatsoever for how I should approach this, and yet I still rose from my seat, motivated by nothing more than the single belief that I needed to.

Was this the universe telling me that I was meant to run into her after all? That I needed to meet the woman with an oceanic heart?

But when I finally got to where she was, she glided effortlessly past me, not paying any mind to my presence. Why would she though? To her, I was no one. To her, I was the faceless person.

“Excuse me!” I bolted to the front counter after realizing I might’ve just missed my opportunity. The barista, stunned and concerned, furrowed her brows while she waited for my question. “Is that girl a regular here?”

“Valerie?” She pointed in her direction, to which I nodded rapidly. “Oh, yeah. She comes in here all the time. She works just across the street.”

When I came to this coffee shop, it was simply by chance. It wasn’t even the closest cafe, but it was the one I chose to go to for some inexplicable reason.

I’d like to think it was fate. I was meant to be here after all. Because right behind me stood the storefront of a building I had only briefly read about in Valerie’s file.

The Bones, Art Gallery & Studio

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 2 HERE!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #the bones #the bones pt 1 #juniorgman187

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years

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Director Kate Herron calls from her childhood bedroom. She's staying at her parents' home in Southeast London for the summer, having spent the past year apart due to the pandemic and directing her latest series, Marvel's Loki. "It's so surreal seeing the show go out," she says over Zoom, "and being in the room that I was last in as a teenager."

Loki's first three episodes have seen the God of Mischief (Tom Hiddleston) team up with Agent Mobius (Owen Wilson) and the all-powerful Time Variance Authority to track down a fugitive Variant of himself: A female Loki that goes by Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) who's set on blowing up the Sacred Timeline and, with it, the MCU as we know it.

"My dad, bless him, he was never into Marvel before, but now he's obsessed with it," she says. "When I got the job, he started watching his way through the films, and he's got all these different YouTubers that he now watches for theories, and he tries to get spoilers out of me. He's like, 'What does it mean?!' and I'm like, 'Dad, I can't tell you!' It's very sweet, but very funny."

Now, with three episodes left of the season, she's bracing for their first family viewing experience. "I might not be able to, though. I might be like, 'You have to watch it by yourselves and then we can talk!'" she laughs. "Wait to hear the Loki theme and be like, 'Oh, I can go downstairs now.'"

In the meantime, Herron fielded all of ET's midseason questions about making Loki's bisexuality canon in the MCU, flexing more of his magic than ever before and why Sylvie isn't really Lady Loki or the Enchantress.

We are halfway through the season. Outside your parents, how has the reaction felt so far?

It's been amazing. We had these big ideas in it -- like, about free will and good and evil -- and wanting to [know that] if we're going back in with Loki because he's so beloved, that it's going to be a good story for that character, but some fresh terrain. I think the response has been pretty joyous and it's just so fun seeing what people are liking, what people's theories are. I couldn't be more happy, to be honest.

Being someone who appears pretty online and active on social media, how deep are you going into reading what people say and diving into those theories and all that?

I definitely read a lot of them -- I don't comment on them -- but I used to love Lost and Game of Thrones, and I was on Reddit, commenting, like, "Ooh, maybe it means this or means this," and I think that's the fun thing with our show, right? Our fans are so smart and it's fun seeing what they're getting right and what's not right but is very interesting. The Easter eggs they dig up are always amazing to me. Some of them we put in there, and I'm like, "Well, let's see..." and I'm like, "Oh, they found it!" So, it's really fun tracking it online. It's very weird directing something where you know every frame will be [screen]grabbed by some fans because they're looking for stuff.

I loved your tweet about why it was important for you to confirm that Loki is bisexual in the show. Not really reveal -- because he's bisexual in the comics -- but make that canon. Talk to me about having those conversations with Marvel.

I think it was something very important to everyone. And I felt like, OK, how can we acknowledge this? We have aspects of the story that are there, so how do we build this into the story so it feels earned in the moment? I didn't want it to feel like we were just wedging something in, but we had this beautiful scene where these two characters are being really raw and really honest about who they are, and I was like, "Well, it is a part of who he is and who they are." For me, talking with Michael [Waldron] and Bisha [K. Ali], it just felt like it was the right moment for that line. This episode is really beautiful for me, because it's these two characters getting to know each other, so in that sense, it felt like the right place for that conversation to happen. And I thought it was done really beautifully by the writers.

Obviously, like I've said, it's very personal to me, and I said it was a small step in some ways -- because obviously, he's just talking about it -- but in the bigger scale of things, I'm like, oh no, it's massive actually. If I saw that when I was 10, it would be really big for me. It's been really nice getting comments from people online. Some people were like, "It helped me actually talk about how I feel to my family and helped me come out." And I thought, "Well, if it helped one person do that, then it's worth it."

This is the MCU's first lead character who is openly queer. Did you know that? Were you aware of how big a milestone this would be?

Yeah. Well, in some senses, yes, and in some senses you're never sure, right? Because [Marvel is] so secretive about all their other projects. [Laughs] For me, I was like, I'm telling Loki's story, it's a part of who they are and I just want to acknowledge it. It's canon in the comics and if we can make it canon in the films, that would be amazing. When I came on board, I was like, if there's a way to do this, it would mean a lot to me and, I'm sure, a lot of people. But it was very welcomed, and I think we're all very proud of how we did that.

This may be getting into spoiler territory that you aren't able to talk about, but acknowledging one's sexuality is one important part of representation, seeing it play out through relationships is another. Can we expect to see any further exploration of what it means for Loki to be bisexual in this show?

I'm trying to think how to answer your question. [Laughs] I would say in our story, this is how we acknowledge it. But I hope that that paves the way for deeper exploration.

We're halfway through the season. What were your biggest goals in these first three episodes?

I think the biggest one was obviously, the Loki we're with in this story is on a completely different path, so it was tracking his character in the sense that he basically sees this amazing arc that the other Loki had gone on across the MCU movies, he sees that he reconciles with his brother, but that wasn't him in that moment. He's watching a different version of himself. But seeing that moment and seeing that he has room for growth and change is really interesting with our Loki, because he's in a very different headspace. So, it was tracking, what's familiar about this character from the Loki that we've seen over the last 10 years go from villain to antihero? And what is going to be completely different and completely different sides to this character that we get to now dig our teeth into? That was something really important to me and to Tom and the writing team, and it was really fun unpacking that and what his identity means.

The other challenges, honestly, were just setting up the TVA, because it's outside of time and space and giving that a grounding and a reality and making that feel like a whole new exciting corner of the MCU. That was a big responsibility, and I was really excited by that. And then you have the bigger arc of the story, but you also knowing it's going out weekly on TV. So, how are we going to track this week by week. Where are we leaving the characters and what are we leaving for the audience? Something we always thought about was we knew there'd be discussion week to week, so it was like, "Where are we going to give them certain bits of information across the show?" We wanted to provoke conversation and discussion about even just things like free will, you know?

I will say about the TVA, I'm basically a human Miss Minutes stan account. I think she's the baddest bitch in the MCU. I watch every Miss Minutes fancam that pops up on my Twitter feed.

She's incredible! What I love about it is that she's in our first episode and she actually used to come out of the presentation that Loki watches -- she came out on the screen -- but it was too crazy. We were like, "OK, we can't do that in the first episode. We'll do it in the second episode!" But what I love about her is that we're seeing the TVA through Loki's eyes and it's, like, the status quo, right? And if our status quo is a Southern-talking, Roger Rabbit-style clock, the show is going to probably get quite weird. I think that's what I love about her. And obviously, Tara [Strong] is awesome. Yeah, Miss Minutes is a lot of fun.

You talked about exploring who Loki is and could be. He's always had an arsenal of powers, but in this series, you really get to explore and define what his power set is. What were those conversations like?

That was something else, coming in, I was so excited about. We have six hours of him, let's see some more magic. Because across the comics, he's super powerful, and for example, in the last episode, that's what was so exciting to me about that, the oner at the end of episode 3 was that I've seen a lot of oners but I haven't seen one with magic. So, I was like, let's put loads of magic in there! We get Loki using his telekinesis and his magic blasts and then also Sylvie, as well, and her powers.

For me, it was exciting getting to bring those in in a way that pushed the story forwards. Because I get it, when he first lands in the TVA, they can't use magic, so I know if I was watching, I'd be like, "What? No magic?!" But I think that's the fun thing is, we still have three episodes to go and also it was fun to put him on Lamentis and see him using his powers in different ways. It was definitely something important to me and the team, was to get to show a little bit more of him. But across the films, you can only do so much. Now we have six hours, so it felt like, of course we have to delve into that more.

I don't know if you saw this on Twitter, one of my favorite reactions to episode 3 was someone tweeted a screenshot of Sylvie screaming and her hands glowing and wrote, "she did the meme!!"

[Laughs] That's great!

We've now officially met Sylvie, and we're starting to piece together that this may be sort of a hybrid character of Lady Loki and Sylvie Lushton, the Enchantress. Are you able to confirm that you pulled from both to create your Sylvie? Or is that something that's to be further revealed?

I would say there's more to be delved into. One thing I would say is, like, she's different to the comics. Like, she's a unique character, but obviously, there's things that have been pulled from. I think for her character, she's on the run and she's called Sylvie and she's dyed her hair. The blonde that we associate with Sylvie is played in that sense, but it makes sense for her character within our story. But I would say deeper than that, yeah, there's more to be revealed about her character to comes.

The main thing I would say is: Lady Loki in the comics is a very different character to our character, obviously. I love that character and I think she's got a very different journey. But our Sylvie is a female Loki, in that sense -- because in episode 1 and 2, they know it's a Loki they're tracking -- but I think that's part of the discussion. It's almost like Loki -- as in Tom Loki -- he's like, "Wait, how much of my life have you got? Who are you?" And I think that's the real question is, who is she? So, we will discuss that as the show goes on. Why does she not like being called Loki? What's her past? Where did she come from?

Tom and Sophia have such great chemistry, but how challenging was it for you and Michael and Sophia and the writers to create a character that essentially has to match up with our Loki, who's had however many films to become the fan-favorite character that he is?

It starts in the writing. Because she's a unique creation, and that was exciting and I was intrigued where they were pulling from with the comics. I was like, OK, that's cool. Beyond that, I think it's casting it. Sophia is an incredible actor. I've worked with her before. She has this fire in her and she brings this amazing vulnerability to all her characters, but she's also, like, so funny. It's just, so many of these things she always brings, I was like, they're so Loki. So, I was like, "We've got to get her to read!" And we were just all blown away by her read of it.

She definitely can hold her own. That's the other thing, as well. I know her, and I was like, she will hold her own. I know she will. Because she's going against Tom's Loki and that's such the fun thing about them. Even just on the train, where it's the end of the world and Loki's solution is, "I'm going to have a party and I'm going to have a drink. I'm going to have a lovely time." And her solution is, "I'm not going to have a glass of champagne, thanks. I'm going to focus on the mission of getting off the moon." Those little differences is what's quite fun about them to me. How are they different, and how are they the same?

Was there something you got to do as a director in these first three episodes that you had never done before that you were especially excited or nervous or both to tackle?

I suppose so much of the show, right? Because I've done a lot of drama and a lot of comedy, but they were like, "Here you go! Here's the reins to this massive, genre-driven piece where you have to set up a new corner of the MCU and you're going to have this beloved character." There was a lot to carry. But I'd say in terms of something I was excited about, only because Kevin Feige was teasing me, when we filmed the big oner at the end of episode 3, I was really inspired in the writing, because it sounded like you were really with the characters. I love doing long takes anyway and I remember thinking, "Oh man, this sequence feels like the one that we should do as this oner," because I want the audience to feel like they're with Sylvie and Loki in this moment, and it's also a moment where you finally start to see an apocalypse and it feels more real, because you're seeing the horror and the terror that's going along with that.

For me, that was exciting, but the really cheesy bit that made me so excited is they had these foam rocks that fell on people, but it felt like real movie magic to me. I was so obsessed with the rocks. I was like, "Oh my god. This is like real, big Hollywood filmmaking." And I remember Kevin Feige was like, "You can take a rock home, if you want," and I was like, "Oh my god!" So I have this rock. It's in bubble wrap now, and I'm going to unpack it when I move into my place. But that's probably honestly the most excited I've ever been. [Laughs] I was just so excited by the rocks. Oh, and also, I remember when we were at Roxxcart and Tom gets thrown into those robo dogs, I was obsessed with the robo dogs. He was like, "I think this is the happiest I've ever seen you." So, those are my favorite moments on set. The foam rocks and the robo dogs.

Somebody's going to come into your flat in the future and there's going to be a shelf with just a rock and a robotic dog on it.

Mhmm! And I'll be like, "Yeah, guys, I did something." [Laughs] They'll be like, "What is this...?" But the foam rocks are genuinely amazing, because they look like real, heavy rocks, but they're so light. I was so fascinated with them. I was so excited. I made a lot of low budget stuff before this, so it was a big deal to me.

My favorite part of the first three episodes is the Kate Berlant cameo. How did that come to be?

Basically, I love comedy and my producer, Kevin Wright, does as well, and we were trying to think of people that could be fun. We've got Josh [Fadem] in episode 1, and that was a miracle. I just spoke to her about the part and was like, "This is a very small role, but if you're interested, you're very talented and you're so funny." And she was like, "You know what? That sounds really fun. Renaissance faire? Yeah, I'll come do it." So, it was very kind of her to come down and do that for us. She's so funny, man. She's so funny.

Do you let her riff at all?

We did. We have a lot of alts and a lot of very extended bits of her talking to the Minutemen. I think there's one where she talks about a bird show at the faire. She's so funny. I was very flattered and grateful that she did that for us.

I'm going to start the #ReleaseTheKateBerlantCut campaign. I want a whole episode of her alts. Or she can be the new Stan Lee and cameo in every MCU project. Before I let you go, if you had to choose one word to tease these upcoming three episodes, what is that word?

Hmm. I thought of one word, but then I'm like, it's spoiler-y, so I can't say that. [Laughs] Oh, one word. Exciting? I have to say "exciting," because I can't say the other one I wanted to say!

#Kate Herron #Loki #interview

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vfdarkness · 3 years

Text

AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment…

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places.

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida.

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening.

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves.

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.”

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington.

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

#a voice from darkness #avfd #malcolm ryder #rene dupont

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spicymayo1983 · 3 years

Text

Hiya. This is an existential crisis themed smut fest that I came up with because my insomnia hit me hard again. Lol.

You are an X wing pilot whose twin sister has recently given birth to her first child.

Instead of feeling happy for her you just feel empty inside.

You've always wanted a family of your own but your childbearing years are coming to an end. You are single, sad and frustrated.

As you compile a mental list of male friends and colleagues who could potentially help you conceive a child and possibly co-parent together one name springs to mind.

Poe Dameron.

Warnings, breeding kink stuff, unprotected sex, female receiving oral sex, just plenty of gratuitous, raw sex. Lmao.

Seed Part 1

You can't sleep. You find yourself wide awake at 3 AM having an existential crisis.

Your married identical twin sister (any name) has recently given birth to her first child.

You feel guilty and ashamed because instead of feeling joyful for her instead you feel empty and numb.

You don't feel happy or sad. You feel absolutely nothing except for a slight twinge of envy.

You are an X wing pilot for the rebellion and have been since your late teens. You have survived being shot down, being captured and torture at the hands of the first order.

During your adventures you always tried to find time for romance. Being a bleeding heart romantic you always dreamed of returning to your home planet, Yavin 4, with your husband to put down roots and start a family.

But fate had other plans. After a number of disastrous relationships you find yourself approaching 40 and single.

Even in the future your fertility is on the decline and not much can be done to help. You desperately ache to experience being pregnant and the joy of motherhood. You chart your ovulation religiously hoping that someday you might find someone who could help you out.

Every month this happens. You feel the familiar twinge in your uterus and then the depression hits you like a tsunami.

After spending about an hour rolling around in bed you decide to stop fighting it and sit up.

You stare blankly at the wall of your bedroom. And then all of a sudden the tears start.

Your sobbing must have been fairly loud because you are soon interrupted by a soft knock at your door.

You get up and open it, it's your old friend and fellow pilot Poe Dameron.

"Poe, what are you doing here?" You ask as you rub your bloodshot eyes.

"I was walking by when I heard you crying". Poe replies, smiling softly. "I was just leaving...."

"Someone's quarters". You tease, smiling a little. "I've known you most of your life, I know how you like to have a good time."

The two of you grew up together on Yavin 4 but lost contact when he ran off to join the spice runners. Poe has always seen you as a sister, your relationship strictly platonic.

Your paths crossed when you both became pilots at roughly the same age. Your friendship resumed without skipping a beat. In your early 20's the two of you experimented with and kicked around the idea of being more than friends but the two of you decided not to pursue a romantic relationship.

Your relationship is as close as you can be without being married.

You've been intimate with him on several occasions.

The smoothness of his skin, his absolutely perfect body and cock are still fresh in your memory even though it's been years.

"You've been crying again". Poe says with a deep sigh, his smile fading. "Tell me what's wrong".

"It's nothing, really, you wouldn't want to hear it". You reply, sitting down at a small table in your kitchen.

"You're ovulating, aren't you?" Poe replies quickly as gets behind you, leans down and wraps his strong arms around you in an extremely intimate bear hug.

"You always get like this when you're fertile".

"Time's running out and I haven't met anyone". You reply, fighting back tears. "I never imagined I'd be here, at this stage in my life, nearly 40 with no children".

"This might sound crass, or perverted, or both". Poe tells you as he leans down to nuzzle your neck a little.

"But I think I could help you, I could put a baby inside of you if you wanted".

"You've been drinking". You snap back with a nervous laugh. "I'm depressed and your drunk, yeah, this is getting weird".

Poe immediately pulls away, respecting your wishes.

"I said it was getting weird, but I didn't tell you to stop". You reply with a slight smile.

"So do you want me to help you with your situation?" He asks, gently massaging your shoulders.

"Shouldn't there be a little romance?" You tell him with an awkward laugh. "I don't want this to be mechanical, I want it to be a little special".

Poe leans in and kisses you passionately, taking you by surprise a little. With lust burning in his dark eyes he whispers in your ear,

"Of course not, I planned on warming you up a little".

You both decide to start off with a nice shower together.

He begins by lathering up your breasts, and then his hands trail down further.

You can see that Poe is already physically aroused, his strong hands are all over your body, exploring every inch of your soft curves and gently caressing you.

You begin to soap up his thick cock, you can feel him getting harder and harder, you sigh a little as you crave Poe inside of your throbbing pussy.

"I'm going crazy right now". Poe pants, unable to hide his desire. "Let's wrap this up and head to the bedroom".

Both of you quickly towel off and head for your bed, your entire body is warm and tingling from desire.

The two of you hold each other and enjoy a steamy makeout session, Poe slides two fingers inside of you, you are wet, swollen and sensitive, you shudder in delight.

"Mmmmm I want to taste you". Poe whispers into your ear.

His head quickly slides between your legs, you moan and thrash around in delight as he sucks on your swollen clit.

You cum for him, several times, before you wrap your legs around his waist and Poe slides his thick cock inside of you.

This isn't the first time you've hooked up with him. You were once friends with benefits years earlier. But you both decided to end things.

This felt different, though. Like Poe was trying to impregnate you. Which makes you wonder his own secret desires and motivation. Why would a notorious playboy like him be off of his birth control? Were your yearnings and desires his as well?

Poe cums deep inside of you with his head resting on your shoulder. His soft, curly hair in a dissaray. Afterwards you stay relaxed on your back, careful not to move around and lose even a drop of his precious seed.

"I wonder if it worked?" Poe asks with a slight smile, gently placing a hand on your lower belly, where your uterus is.

"Why were you so willing to help me out? If you don't mind me asking". You inquire, placing your hand over his.

"You're one of my best friends". Poe tells you softly.

"You're brave, beautiful, tough, one of the best pilots in the resistance besides me. Why wouldn't I want you to carry my child?"

"Oh Poe". You reply, fighting back tears at the beauty and honesty of his words. "What you just said means everything to me, it really does."

#poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #star wars smut #star wars

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (33)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Aaaah...(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). What mess are you in? You don't realize how much your life is going to change. Certainly, your career, your business, flourishes day by day, to the point that you are solicited for great events. Well, I recognize that for the moment, you have just been asked for cakes for the local festival. But imagine the success you could have! the whole area could hear from you. But... It may not be for that reason.

Your life could change... because of this "deal" that you have made with Ghostface. I have to admit that, if I had been given the same proposal, I would have finally accepted it. But not as quickly as you did. The curiosity and eagerness you felt to know the true identity of the Roseville Assassin... could destroy you forever. How... it’s still a mystery. But back to our business, will you?

The whole city was aware of your participation in the festival. The information spread very quickly, and in a city like Roseville, it's not very surprising. Everyone is wondering about, this famous cake that you are going to prepare for this special occasion. And it's a good opportunity to get ideas. Even if you already know what you are going to do, having or rather hearing people come up with ideas, can give you new inspirations. Amy and Corey also stay on the lookout for any ideas that might be interesting to explore. As you were preparing the next batches of cakes, the phone rang. Amy being too busy taking the orders, it’s you who take the call.

“Welcome to the Nebula, where our pastries came from Outerspace! How can I help you?”

“(Y/N) sweety!!! How good it feels to hear you after all this time!” said a woman cheerfully.

“Aunt Marnie! How did you get the number of... Oh that's right. Mr Parkson had to tell you about my business and had to give you the number. it's so nice to hear you after... You know what. How is Uncle Joey? And Daisy and Tobias?” you respond with a smile.

“Daisy has managed to get a scholarship for her studies in geology, she will be able to start this year. Tobias still plays on Gary's American football team. The city has not changed. some people come to settle there while others go elsewhere. As for Joey... Let's say he hangs on as he can. You know how much he cared about your mother; She was his little sister... he feels guilty for not being there to protect her.”

“Me too you know. I'm sorry if I left the area but... I needed to change the landscape. To start from scratch.”

“Oh, don't worry you Butterfly, we all understand that you needed to do that. You are much stronger than us, never forget that. So, tell me! How does it go in Roseville? is your business going well?” She replied.

“Everything is fine! I was offered to make cakes for the local festival and Jed and I will move in together!” you answer.

“Jed? Who’s Jed?”

You suddenly realize that you have made a slight blunder. When you separate with Alex, your aunt Marnie protects you like a mother hen. And this is even more the case since the death of your parents. No boys could approach you without her being around to watch for any suspicious movement on their part.

“Jed is...is my boyfriend. He works for the Roseville’s Gazette. It's recent, but don't worry about it, aunt Marnie, he's very nice! this boy is... he’s an angel. He’s the complete opposite of Alex.” you explain, worrying about her reaction.

“... Well, if you're sure what you're doing... And from what you say, I want to believe you. A journalist you say? Well, he had to live things from it! You will have to present him to us one day. And if possible before you are married.”

“Don't worry about it, we're not there yet. As I told you, it's recent but... he’s someone of trust. Believe me. Listen aunt Marnie, I have to go back to work, I'm going to give you my number like that if you want to call, you can call me directly on my phone! you always have the same, don't you?”

“Yes of course! I'm not going to bother you for very long either, I have a few groceries to do on my side. I hope we can see each other soon, and with your boyfriend! I love you very much (Y/N). See you later.”

“See you later Auntie. I love you too.”

You hang up before you get back to work. It felt good to have talked to your family again since the death of your parents. Poor Uncle Joey. He is your mother's closest brother. They both adored themselves. And yet, they couldn't help but argue about something. by force you were used to it and you wondered each time how long they would resist before arguing. And especially on what. And every time it ended in the same way: in the water of the pool, laughing like two idiots. They couldn't even remember why they were arguing.

When your parents died, Joey didn't say a word. For several weeks, he had locked himself in the guest room, without eating or even talking. It was you who managed to get him out of his silence. You sigh as you think back to all this. From the whole family... he’s the one who has suffered the most. And he still suffers today. Luckily, he has a wife and two children who love him and help him. Otherwise, who knows how he would have turned out. Bad, very bad if you want my opinion.

You return to work when Melina enters the café with Mattew and Jed. The three greeted you from afar and went to sit down at a table that Corey had just cleaned. The latter took their order, which did not change the habit. You won't even need to ask them what they want by force. But Jed looked... annoy. You were wondering why.

“This guy is really twisted anyway. Hiring a guy to kill his own partner, it really goes too far. McKellan was an asshole, but Hoggins is twice as much.” said Melina, crossing her arm on her chest.

“What amazes me is that the guy Wilhelm interrogated is not responsible for this murder. Are you sure that he didn't lie?” asks Mattew.

“Wilhelm passed him twice to the lie detector, left him alone for several minutes to see if he was going to say something and the results showed it well: he did not lie and he said nothing. Wilhelm said he knew Devon well, we can ask him anything and everything, but killing someone is not in his ropes and in his principles. At least he doesn't kill when the person has done nothing to him.” said Jed.

“What do you think in this case?” you ask suddenly, making all three of them react.

“... Either Hoggins hired someone else... or he was the one who killed. But in this case, you have to prove that he went at McKellan’s home. But Wilhelm has interrogated the guards. They did not see, neither Hoggins, nor his car in the vicinity. So there remains only the first option, remains to know who he hired.” responds Jed.

“It doesn't seem to be going. Do you have a problem?”

“Let's say in short, that if I had this asshole in front of me, I would beat him to death.”

“Hoggins said things about you two that... didn't really please Jed.” explain Mattew.

“I think I know what he said. But you don't have to care, I won't leave you for anything in the world.” you said, kissing Jed on the cheek which made him smile.

You suddenly remember the conversation with your aunt and take the opportunity to tell Jed about it. If at first, he was a little reluctant, worried and uncomfortable about the situation, he was rather reassured to know that your aunt was delighted to know that you are in a relationship with someone. Luckily for you, she doesn't know anything else... and so is Jed. Better to avoid talking about Ghostface.

*You have all the cards in hand, and two lives. Let's see if you get to the end of the game. *

Two lives...No, more. It’s not your life and Jed's that is in your hands, but also that of all the people who are close to you, Melina, Mattew, Corey, Amy... and even your family. So many lives in your hands, which may or may not be a victim of your choices. It's way too much for your shoulders, but you have no choice, you can't go back now. All you can do is say nothing to Jed. Even if it bites your lips, that your heart tightens at the thought of having to lie to him, you must hold. For the good of all of them.

The day went smoothly, although for once, a few annoying customers gave you a hard time. It takes everything in this low world, otherwise everything would be wonderful. Corey and Amy helped you clean everything up before returning home completely exhausted. Jed was waiting for you outside leaning against his van. You close the café after checking that everything was locked and then join him.

“Still worried about my aunt? I told you, you don't have to worry, they will adore you, I'm sure.” you said when you see his face.

“No, it's not related to that... It's... it’s in relation to Hoggins. How can such a guy appropriate someone like common merchandise? When I heard him say that you were a bird of paradise and that it was a shame that you were with a guy like me... I refrained from sticking my fist in his face. It's easy for him to have a woman by his side, he has the money and the luxury.” He responds, clenching his fist.

“Hey! Don't say that. I could have hanged out with him, not worrying about finances and having everything I want. And I chose you. So, he can do whatever he wants, offer me all his fortune if he likes it, I would say no. He is repugnant, narcissistic, old, a real head to slap. It’s out of the question for me to go out with such a moron.”

“Hahaha that’s why I love you honey. Ready to go?” Jed replied, holding you close.

As you were about to leave, a group of men surrounded Jed's van. And obviously they weren't there to talk. Jed gently pushed you behind him, blocking you between him and the van.

“Get in the car. Right now. And lock yourself in.” He said seriously.

“But Jed...” You start.

“I said RIGHT NOW.”

You get into the vehicle and lock it as Jed asked you. The men came a little closer, revealing iron bars. Some of them made them spin while sneering, others hit the ground with them. Jed didn't seem panicked, he didn't tremble. He gently removed his glasses, tapped against the glass so that you would take the glasses with you and then turned to the group of individuals.

“I suppose... that you were hired, were you not? It's Hoggins I bet.” He said calmly.

“We have nothing against you, man, but the boss... he can no longer stand you. On the other hand, he paid us to bring the girl back to him too.” said one of the men.

“Just try to see.”

It was then that the fight began. Despite the fact that there were several of them, Jed managed with disconcerting agility to dodge punches and iron bar blows. He even managed to put some men on the ground, before unfortunately being blocked and punched before being thrown to the ground. You knock against the window of the truck screaming his name, actually starting to worry when you see him spitting out a light trickle of blood. Suddenly, as if caught in a sudden rage, you see Jed throwing himself at the man in front of him, hammering him with fists.

He took the iron rod to knock one of the men who was trying to attack him and then returned to the one on the ground. Despite the windows you could hear the man on the ground begging Jed to stop. But he kept on. As if he was taken with an uncontrollable rage. A monster. Jed again took the iron rod and raised it to hit the man on the ground, when suddenly he stopped and turned his head towards you, realizing that you were still there. Then police sirens were heard.

“Hands up! not a gesture you are surrounded!” shout an officer.

“Olsen! put this iron bar down! Right now!” said inspector Wilhelm.

Jed dropped the iron rod before collapsing next to the man he had just beaten. You unlock the vehicle and get off it to go see Jed shouting his name. The officers handcuffed the men one by one, while another called doctors to take care of Jed. It took them only a few minutes to arrive and take care of Jed. This one grimaced when the doctor applied the disinfectant.

“Are you okay, Olsen? nothing serious?” asks Wilhelm.

“I'm fine, nothing too serious except spitting a trickle of blood. These guys told me that Hoggins had hired them. They did not say it directly, but they made it clear to me.” responds Jed.

“We're going to take them to the station for that. Both of you go home. Miss, I count on you to take care of him.”

“You can count on that Inspector. Thank you.” You said, turning to Jed. “Does it hurt?”

“A little, but don't worry, I've experienced worse. And then you're fine that's the main thing. I guess I will have to give a deposition tomorrow at the first hour?” He responds.

“Yes, unfortunately for me, it’s I who will have to take your deposition. It looks like the roles have been reversed between you this time. See you tomorrow Olsen. Miss.” said Wilhelm before leaving.

You and Jed go back to the apartment. There is no question of leaving him alone tonight. He will sleep at home. You both go to bed, Jed hugging you. He wished you good night, told you that He loves you and that he will not let anyone harm you. And you take his word for it. The Jed you saw tonight, scared you. He has protected you and protected himself in a sense. But from there to almost kill a man...

Now you understand better why you should never piss him off. And it scares you.

***

(I’ve to finish RE8 Village but I don’t want to kill Heisenberg! He’s my favorite Lord! I must admit I’m a little disappointed about the fact that we can’t choose to help Heisenberg or not. While we could choose between saving Mia or Zoe in RE7. Even if in the end both survive (Thanks the DLC: the End of Zoe). This could have led to an alternative path! But I'm quite curious to see the DLC that CAPCOM is developing for RE8! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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mayibeyoursbanks · 4 years

Note

Can you do a fic with JJ and y/n to the song Summer Love by One Direction because y/n went to the Obx just for the summer but they find a way for the group to be together at the end of the summer while y/n goes back to her house? Lol it’s a lot sorry.

I’m so sorry this literally took forever for me to get to- I accidentally deleted everything halfway through writing it😔

But it’s here now! It kinda took its own path but I hope you like it!!!

“Summer Love”

———————————————————————

Memories of the past two months flooded through your mind as you stuffed your suitcase with all of your belongings. It felt as though every T-shirt, swim suit, piece of jewelry, had a different memory attached to it.

You reached for the woven bracelet on your dresser, thinking of the day you first got it.

“Close your eyes babes. We have a present for you,” said Kie. You shook your head, but complied anyway.

“A present? You guys didn’t have to give me anything. You just met me what? Three weeks ago?”

“Don’t be silly. It’s your birthday, of course we got you something. Besides, it’s not even that huge of a deal,” you hear Sarah say from your other side.

You feel something lightweight fall into your outstretched hand and feel the rough, woven texture between your fingers. You smile as you open your eyes to look down at the handmade bracelet. It was made of three colors- yellow, pink, and orange -all intricately interwoven to make a perfectly wrist sized band.

“A friendship bracelet? Just like bit of yours?”

“Well, not just like ours. We made new ones to match.” Sarah held up her wrist to flash a bracelet identical to the one in your hand, and Kie did the same.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Your eyes watered with tears.

“You may not be in the Outer Banks forever, but you will always be apart of our lives, Y/N. I hope you know that”

You smiled to yourself as you tugged the bracelet onto your wrist and reached for the baseball hat that was placed next to it.

It was a scorching hot day, and the sun beat down on you and Pope as you rode Heyward’s boat back across the island. You had volunteered to help him make deliveries to the Figure 8, but under this sun, you were regretting the decision to pass on surfing with the girls.

“Thanks for helping me out again Y/N/N. These deliveries would have taken me all day to do alone.”

“Anytime Heyward. But maybe the next time you need a hand, you could tell me to bring a hat? Or even some sunglasses?” You said this jokingly, but Pope must have noticed your red, sun-kissed face and how you squinted up at him to talk, because then he moved to remove his iconic “Pong” hat and put it on your head, tugging it into place. You smiled gratefully at him, and went back to counting the tips from the day.

When Pope pulled the boat up to the dock, you went to return his hat to him, but he held his hand out.

“Keep it. It looks ten times better on you anyway.” You did a fake gasp and placed your hand in your chest.

“Is this your final gift to me Pope? A memento to remember you by when I finally return to the horrors of the mainland?” Pope just chuckled.

“Well I can’t let you go forgetting me now. Gotta compete with the others. Well except for JJ, he obviously has a spot secured in your heart.” You felt your cheeks blush furiously.

“What is that supposed to mean Heyward?”

“Come on Y/N/N. You guys have acted like an old married couple since we first met you at The Wreck. Even John B can see it.” You looked down at the groceries swinging in your hand as you walked up the dock next to Pope.

“Is it that obvious?”

“As obvious as the capital of Russia.”

You smirked to yourself at the reoccurring memory of yours and Pope’s favorite inside joke, and gently set the hat on the top of the bag.

Then you saw the worn book that was laying under then hat on your dresser, and picked it up to flip through the pages.

You were wondering around the Chateau while you waited for John B to find the keys to the Twinkie. The two of you were supposed to pick up the rest of the Pogues for a drive around the island, but the absent-minded boy had somehow misplaced the most important part of that plan.

As you walked down the hallway, you stopped at a door you recognized as Big John’s office. You had never gone in here because while John B was very open to talking about his dad with you, you had only known him for a month and a half. Going in felt like an overstep before.

You slowly creaked the door open though, and we’re greeted by stacks of books and piles of maps. There was a model ship in one corner, and glove across from it, with a desk covered in even more maps and books in the center of the room.

You walked to the desk and scanned the stacks of books, eyes landing on a light blue book that looked well read. As you picked it up, you ran your fingers over the embossed lettering.

“Searching for the Merchant,” you whispered to yourself. You opened the book with a crap and started fingering through the pages.

“That was his favorite book in this whole office.” You jumper at the familiar sound of your friends voice and slammed the book closed. You were about to apologize to John B but the boy stopped you.

“It’s ok. I come in here all the time.”

“Do you feel closer to him? When you’re in here?”

“In some ways. In others I feel farther than ever.” You watched John B as he stared down the model ship in the corner.

“I never met him, but just from being in here I can tell he was a good man.” A small smile appeared on John B’s face.

“And a good dad.”

“That he was, Y/N/N. That he was.” The two of you stood in silence for a little longer before the boy spoke up again.

“Why don’t you keep that book? You might enjoy it.” You rapidly shook your head.

“John B, I could never. All this stuff is yours to enjoy.”

“Look around Y/N. I obviously have plenty of things to go through when I miss him. Besides, I already had my great adventure. Maybe that book will inspire you to find yours.” You smiled big at your friend, the Pogues’ treasure hunt was the first story they had told you when you hung out at the Chateau for the first time, and you had always craved to have your own similar escapade, minus the life-threatening pirates.

You gently closed the book and tucked it into the side of your suitcase, thinking about the adventure you had this summer with your new best friends. Zipping your the suit case, you tugged it off your bare bed and began to pull it towards your bedroom door. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a long necklace hanging from a nail next to the door. Your treasured shark tooth necklace.

You barely noticed the dock shift under the weight of someone sitting next you, and you didn’t even bother to look up. You know exactly who it was.

“Are you really leaving at the end of the week?”

“I have to JJ. My parents want to go back to the mainland early, and even though I’m 18, I’m definitely not financially independent enough to stay here.”

“Screw money. We’ll find a way. You can stay with Kie. Or Sarah. Or Pope. Or heck, even John B.” You shook your head, trying not to cry.

“This is why I was afraid to tell you guys. I knew there was no getting out of me going home, and now it’s all you guys will focus on.”

“Can you blame us? You became one of our best friends, my best friend, in less than 24 hours. How do you expect us to let you go without a fight.”

“There’s nothing you can do this time JJ, not even the people that uncovered the Royal Merchant.”

“But wha-“ You placed your hand on his knee to signal him to stop talking.

“JJ, can we please not talk about this right now. I may not have as long as I thought, but I want to spend the time I do have making memories. Not wallowing I’m self-pity.” JJ grabbed your hand in his and brought it to his mouth to gently kiss it. He held it to his mouth for a while, and you looked over to him for the first time during this entire conversation. You shifted to face him, and with your free hand you reached for the shark tooth dangling around his neck.

“Now where in the world does a boy like you get a piece like this?” You said, mimicking the very first question you ever asked the boy. JJ chuckled and met your eyes.

“On a great adventure. One with pirates, and gold, and a giant storm. Almost didn’t make it out, but I found this tooth lingering in my battle wounds after I washed up on the sand,” JJ replied in his rip-off Pirates if the Caribbean accent.

“Oh? And what has this tough-as-bones pirate prince been doing since then? Plenty of damsels in distress I assume?” JJ smirked.

“Hundreds. But only one of them has really caught my heart.”

“And what of her? What adventures has she gone on?”

“None yet. But I’m hoping to change that.”

“Ah, a lucky lady she is.”

“Yes, you are.” Your smile faltered. You and JJ had grown very close this past summer, and had even shared an almost-kiss at one time. But you both knew it was pointless trying to explore that, what with you leaving in less than a month.

“JJ?” The boy in front of you smiled and grabbed both of your hands, placing them in his lap so he could hold your face with his.

“You were mine this summer Y/N. And I was yours. Don’t take that away from me, not quite yet.” You nodded, tears threatening to trickle down your cheeks.

“We can’t last long JJ. We’ve both known that for a while.” JJ just shook his head and stared into your eyes even more intensely.

“Y/N. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whispered. And it didn’t take another second for JJ to press his lips to yours, and like two perfect harmonies you both moved to close any remaining space in between your bodies, all while you tugged at each other’s lips, hungry to make up for all the chances to do this you took for granted the past two months.

When you two finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against his and smiled when he slid his necklace over his head and onto your neck. You reached up to the tooth and held it in between your fingers, and closed your eyes.

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and grabbed the necklace, only to stuff it in your back pocket. Wearing it would only remind you about your summer love, but you couldn’t bare to part with it.

Stepping out of your house, you met your dad who grabbed you suitcase from you to put it in the car. He gave you a sympathetic smile while your mom grabbed your shoulder and squeezed past you in the doorway.

Then you heard the familiar growl of a motorbike, and looked down the road to find none other than JJ and Sarah quickly approaching your house. You walked towards them, but you didn’t make it far before Sarah all but tackled you in a bear hug.

“I almost thought you guys were going to let me leave without saying goodbye.”

“We’re not. Letting you leave, that is.”

“Sarah, I don’t have a choice. I can’t afford to live on my own, and my parents have to go back. There’s no way.”

“What if I told you there was.” The look on Sarah’s face was full of determination.

“What do you mean?” Instead of explaining her antics to you, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward your parents.

“Mr. Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N. Your daughter can not leave the Outer Banks. She’s official Pogue property now.” You just shook your head at your best friend, but let her talk.

“But I understand you two need to go back to those forsaken mainlands, so I have a proposition. As you know, my embarrassment of a brother has just gone off to Ohio for...well, I guess you can call it school. He won’t be returning for at least 4 years, and Wheezie and I can’t bare the empty room for that long. However, we’re willing to let Y/N here move in with us, free of charge. And as for the financial independence, the Carreras have a new opening at the Wreck, and I think it would be a good way for Y/N to make some money of her own. I think 4 years is sufficient time to get on her own feet, don’t you think?”

You looked at Sarah in absolute wonder, and when your parents turned their eyes to you, you met them with a determined glare.

“Mom. Dad. You know how much I love it here. You guys said it yourselves every day, I belong here. And I’ve made the best friends I could ever ask for, and I’m more happy than I ever was on the mainland. I’m 18, and this is an opportunity to prove to you that I’m ready to make my own life.”

You’re parents looked at each other, having not said a word this whole time. Your mom was the first to break.

“Well, it is only a 2 hour ferry ride. And I trust the Cameron’s. And your friends.” Your dad smiled at you and chuckled to himself.

“That’s my girl. Of course you can stay.” You gaped at your parents.

“Wait, really?!?! That worked?”

“It may not be the most stable option, but you’re right, you belong here. And being able to stand up and tell us that proves to us that you’re an adult now.”

You’re mom nodded her head in a direction behind you before she spoke, “Besides, it looks like you may be in a good hands here.” You spun around to find JJ, shyly holding his helmet and looking up at you with a small smile. You broke from Sarah’s grip and ran to him, jumping in his arms and pulling your legs around his waist.

JJ held you tightly and spun you around, laughing with you. When he came to a stop, you pulled away to look at him.

“So, what’s our first adventure, my pirate prince?”

“Well, I was thinking...nothing that involves hidden treasure or getting shot at?”

“And what do you propose instead?”

“How about something with sharks?” You heard your dad cough from behind you, and looked to see his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“With secure cages of course.” JJ added nervously.

“Sounds perfect. When do we start?”

“Right now.”

———————————————————————

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @the-crackhead-next-door @pankows-girl @howdyherron @poguemacking @dpaccione

#outer banks #outer banks imagines #obx #obx imagines #jj maybanks #jj maybanks imagines #jj x reader #obx jj #rudy #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy obx #my writing #summer love #1D #one direction #storytime with emma

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mariacallous · 4 years

Note

hello ms. mariacallous! if you feel up to it, would you mind sharing your take on the ruling of the keira bell case in the uk/minors' ability to give informed consent for puberty blockers? i always love reading your posts and would really value reading your perspective on the case! thanks and i hope you have a good night! (and a belated happy birthday as well!)

First of all, thank you! I appreciate your kind words :)

I’m...conflicted.

Because I very firmly believe in working with people (and, specifically, since this is the topic, people who are questioning their gender identity), and helping them to make the best decisions for themselves and their lives. So I’m concerned that this will add further obstacles and frustrations to an already very difficult and not-quick path for people.

I’m also not necessarily in disagreement with the UK High Court’s ruling - I do think that it would be not particularly easy to be able to get truly informed consent from young people (10 years to 16 years, since that’s the age range in question) in situations like this, but I don’t think it’s impossible, and I think it’s where the screening and working with an individual comes in, and helping to see where they are at. I don’t think that there’s anything inherently wrong with, to use Keira Bell’s situation, 3 one-hour sessions with a psychologist/therapist before getting a prescription for puberty blockers - because that’s not the beginning of nor the only step in the process.

I’m frustrated because of how the phrase “informed consent” is thrown around, and by the fact that part of the issue is essentially how much the Tavistock and Portman NHS Trust was willing to work with and go along with what the patients wanted, and with how that’s being painted as “NHS clinic is transing your children”

I’m irritated that one of the things that gets touted - “you are the best expert on yourself” and “you should have control over your body” is once again being qualified and, in some ways, potentially curtailed.

I’m sad at the comment of Mrs. A with the 15 year old waiting for transition services who said she wasn’t afraid of her child transitioning but of that child “getting it wrong”, and that they felt there was so little “exploration of why a child might be feeling they were the wrong sex before puberty blockers were given” because I think that there is probably some truth to that but I think that, as with Keira Bell, not enough support and guidance seem to have been given. And now all the other parents and children who are or have been getting services and how they must be feeling.

I’m angry at the crowing of a lot of transphobes and right-wing people, and the invoking of “this is actually about protecting vulnerable children” because in many cases these are the same people who have no care or support for other identities and sexual orientations, and at how this will make people more afraid and hostile.

I’m reminded of how fundamentally lonely it is to be trans, or to question your identity, and of the intense pressure to conform and to hide, and the intense identity and self-value issues at play, and the trauma and the re-traumatizing. (My heart does go out to Keira Bell and to the 15 year old and to detransitioners, because they’ve not only experienced that loneliness (and likely still do) but had to confront some even more uncomfortable situations, and who hadn’t been heard or supported, and who, in all too many cases, still aren’t. To try to explore and identify a certain image, to have invested so much of your self and your life, only to feel like it was a failure or the wrong option? That’s devastating.)

I’m sad and worried for the numbers of teenagers who are hearing this and who are even more hesitant or afraid of trying to question and figure themselves out and the message they’re being given about this. Or to those who have already been pursuing things and who will now feel even more pressure and stress.

I’m weary about how the one-size-fits-all framing and approach to transitioning is being applied again, and how that framing and approach, in many ways, is the ultimate issue, and the emphasis on essentially getting as close to a cisgender/binary identity and role as possible, and how not particularly flexible it is in regards to people who are more comfortable being genderqueer, for example.

I’m dreading the inevitable round of discourse that will be kicked off and how soon JKR will be involved.

#Anonymous

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wordgirlappreciation · 4 years

Text

Wordgirl Fanfic Recommendations Masterlist

Thanks for 250 followers, guys! I appreciate you all very much!

At long last, here it is! A full compilation of my personal favorite Wordgirl fics! All fics are complete and in English. Please don’t forget to reblog and review to support fanfiction writers!

Additionally, this blog will post and promote all fanfiction links submitted to it.

Wordgirl & Doctor Two Brains

Title: The Doctor Is In | Author: otempora16 | Words: 23k | Rated K+

Becky Botsford may be an alien, but she's never had any trouble living on Earth - until she's struck with a bizarre disease that no human doctor can cure. Only one person has studied Lexiconians enough to have any hope of saving her. Unfortunately, he's trapped deep within his own mind, under the control of a malevolent mouse...

This is the best Wordgirl fic I’ve ever read. It hits everything I wanted to see from this show--the bond between Wordgirl and Dr. Two Brains, Dr. Two Brains struggling against his own darkest impulses--coupled with fantastic writing and pacing. Everyone is in character while balancing a more sophisticated and darker tone. I’ve read this one at least five times.

Title: Awake in the Night | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 10k | Rated: K+

Two-Brains is fighting with himself again. The results? He's losing. But how could Steven be coming back from the supposed dead? And how can Wordgirl help him win before the sun rises?

Absolutely heartbreaking fanfic centered around Wordgirl’s relationship with Steven as Dr. Two Brains attempts to stifle him. Steven can only take control at night, and attempts to build a machine to separate himself from Squeaky, only for Two Brains to wake up and stop him every time. It’s brilliantly written, very in-character, and it just might make you feel.

Title: Much Abides | Author: otempora16 | Words: 3k | Rated K

Before she heads off to her first year of college, Wordgirl has a few loose ends to tie up. Oneshot. Sort-of sequel to "New and Subtle Shades."

Wordgirl’s last conversation with Two-Brains before leaving for college. Sweet and heartbreaking even if it could’ve gone a little deeper. Brief mentions of past Steven. As their last WG fic, it’s a nice send-off.

Wordgirl/Tobey (or Tobecky)

Title: New and Subtle Shades | Author: otempora16 | Words: 6k | Rated K+

Growing up is hard, and growing up a superhero is harder. But amidst all the stress and struggle of her freshman year of high school, Wordgirl starts to realize that support, friendship, and fun can be found in the most unexpected of places. Oneshot, focusing on an older Wordgirl's relationships with her villains.

Once again, the otempora16′s dialogue is on point. This fic focuses on WG’s relationship with The Butcher, Leslie, Dr. Two Brains, Chuck, and finally Tobey. It’s incredibly sweet and charming, and shows Wordgirl and Tobey in the earliest stages of a relationship in an entirely believable way. Also featuring Dr. Two Brains as an overprotective father figure.

Title: Green World | Author: otempora16 | Words: 3k | Rated K+

Becky Botsford's superhero duties have run her off her feet lately, and she knows she needs to crack down on schoolwork if she wants to finish junior year strong. But when warm summer breezes are blowing, the carnival is in town, and Tobey McCallister is standing outside her window ... well, some nights are just begging to be seized.

A fun and delightful fic of Becky and Tobey having a good time.

Title: From Good to Rotten | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 25k | Rated K+

After the amnesia ray, what if Two-Brains didn't forget everything? What if he was just waiting? Waiting for the perfect moment to get Wordgirl once and for all...

Dr. Two Brains remembers Wordgirl’s secret identity from a previous episode where it was revealed, and uses a special ray to turn her evil and use her to do his bidding. Highly interesting, and written in the style of the show (with a narrator, defined words, and a similar style of humor). Features the rest of the villains saving Wordgirl from herself and Dr. Two Brains being a bit of a jerk.

Title: Something Hidden | Author: HibiscusAngel15 | Words: 137k | Rated K+

Tobey just can't shake the feeling that Becky is WordGirl, no matter how many times he's been wrong before. The only question is of how to prove it.

Nothing to add. Just a great fic.

Title: Have You Seen My Robut? | Author: HibiscusAngel15 | Words: 3k | Rated K

Today was just not Tobey McCallister's day. After his latest robotic creation to help the city malfunctions and runs off on him, he's left with no choice but to work together with his nemesis WordGirl to find it. But how can the two even hope to work together, especially when she's a supervillain? An AU one-shot where Tobey and Becky's roles are reversed.

Interesting concept I’d love to see explored more. I’m always a sucker for Wordgirl as a villain, and Tobey as a hero was nice to see. Additionally, Wordgirl is the one with the crush on Tobey in this universe. I thought it stayed true to both characters and was well-written.

Title: Saving Tobey | Author: Night_N_Gail | Words: 92k | Rated: Gen

“I’m telling you, WordGirl, that kid is a time bomb. You think he’s a menace NOW? Wait until he’s a teenager and his emotions are running wild. Wait until he’s an adult and he’s not afraid of his mother anymore. It won't be pretty, I can promise you that." -:- Post-series

Slowburn relationship with Tobey gradually going over to the good side. First part of a three part series by the same author. I have not read the sequels, so I can’t recommend them, but if you like “Saving Tobey” give them a try.

Dr. Two Brains/Lady Redundant Woman

Title: A Provocloniversary | Author: Unbalanced Enigma | Words: 3k | Rated: K+

A Dr. Two Brains and Lady Redundant Woman fluffy one-shot taking place at a villain convention. It works off the assumption that they've already been an item for awhile, six months to be precise. The doctor wants to celebrate the events, but awkward and silly interruptions ensue. This features a wide variety. Rated K for a little suggestive romancing.

This fic is really cute and well-written. The characterization is spot-on for everyone and has plenty of humor. I especially enjoyed Tobey getting back at Two-Brains for the events of Mousezilla. As someone who did ship Provoclone back in the day, this fic is a definite recommend.

Dr. Two Brains, Squeaky, and Steven

Title: Descent Into Madness | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 1k | Rated: K+

No one really knew what happened. What he went through during the incident. What happened when Prof. Steven Boxleitner became Dr. Two-Brains?

An interesting exploration of the time between Steven’s “Oh no, this is going to sting” and him running into Becky and TJ. Short but dark and interesting.

Title: A Science Experiment Gone Horribly Wrong | Author: 3LNR | Words: 2k | Rated: K+

This fanfic is a detailed description of Steven's thoughts and feelings before, during, and after his fateful experiment. It includes Two Brains' and Squeaky's viewpoints as well. The day starts out very normally, but gradually becomes more creepy and intense as the story progresses. Rated K+ for somewhat disturbing but non-graphic content.

For a fic I wrote 6 years ago, I think it holds up pretty well. Give it a read if you’re a fan of Two Brains.

Title: When I Don’t Remember You | Author: 3LNR | Words: 3k | Rated K+

Dr. Two Brains goes on a mysterious trip to a place he had almost forgotten.

Another angsty fic I wrote six years ago, where Two Brains briefly reunites with Steven’s parents. It does not go well. Song title is inspired by the song of the same name from the series “Adventure Time”.

Title: Take Care of Them | Author: orphan_account | Words: 1k | Rated: Gen

After a stupid mistake, Two Brains and Steven have a heart to heart while Two Brains dies. (Squeaky dies too)

Sad fic in which Steven gets his freedom at the expense of Dr. Two Brains’ life. Short but memorable enough to earn a spot on the list.

Title: A Late Night Chat | Author: Donotquestionme | Words: 1-3k | Rated: Unknown

“Remember, whatever I say, don’t open this door until morning, got it?” The henchmen shuffled their feet anxiously. They never quite understood what went on behind that heavy, padlocked door, and they weren’t sure they wanted to. All they knew was that, every once in a while, their boss would lock himself in that room and, for the next few hours, muffled shouting could be heard coming from behind the door. Even stranger, sometimes they swore they could hear crying.

This might be the first WG fic I ever read, so it holds a special place in my heart. It was also written by someone with a fantastic ask blog that’s been on hiatus for years now (ask-dr-two-brains) who has a perfect grasp on the character. This fic is about the unanswerable question of whether Steven could bring himself to kill Two Brains if he had the chance to set himself free. I wish this person had written more, but it's fabulous nonetheless.

#wordgirl #dr. two brains #tobey mccallister #steven boxleitner #lady redundant woman #becky botsford #fanfic recommendation #fanfic recs #wordgirl fanfic #I might update this list if I find more I'd like to add

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pocketseizure · 4 years

Text

The Queen’s Tears

As Celes and company explore an ancient castle on the shore of a subterranean lake deep under the desert, they learn that nothing about the War of the Magi was as simple as it seemed. Even after epic battles have long since been forgotten, the legacy of more intimate moments lingers on. Also on AO3 · Special thanks to @azurefishnets for the amazing prompt!

. . . . .

“And to think that this has been here for the past thousand years,” Edgar mused as he leaned on his crossbow.

Sabin took a deep breath of the cool underground air, which was pleasantly humid and carried the faint smell of running water. “Where do you suppose the light’s coming from?”

“The moss, I assume. There’s a bioluminescent strain in the South Figaro tunnel. It’s not native to the mountains, and I always wondered where it came from.”

“Do you think the lake is connected to the aquifer under the castle?”

“It’s difficult to say,” Edgar replied as he snapped the bow’s limbs closed and holstered the device. They had followed an ancient road leading through the caves winding within the bedrock, careful to stay within range of the ceramic paving stones. Who could know how all the passages were connected? Edgar’s concerns were the sand and the sky, and the people who lived in the present. Whatever this giant cavern might contain, it belonged firmly in the past.

Still, one had to wonder.

“I’ve been reading about the War of the Magi,” he said, “and hiring scholars to do the same. Some have come from as far as Doma, where knowledge of the old tongue has been preserved.”

Edgar glanced at Sabin, who nodded in acknowledgment and – Edgar hoped – approval.

“There’s a theory that all of this was once a sea,” he said, making a sweeping gesture at the vista before them – the stone cliffs, the still and luminous waters of the underground lake, and the monstrous castle rising from the far shore. “Figaro may have once stretched across an archipelago.”

“That would be a sight to see,” Sabin replied, crossing his arms. “And we might see it again in our lifetimes. I assume you’ve noticed how close the ocean has gotten in the past year.”

Edgar had noticed, and there wasn’t a night that he didn’t lose sleep as he turned the matter over in his mind. Every month the storms that swept over the inland sea carved another mile or two from the shore.

Edgar grit his teeth, torn between confessing his anxiety and passing it off as a joke, when he felt Sabin’s reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be nice to have some water to go with all that sand,” he said with a grin. “If anyone can figure out how to make our castle float, it’s you. And we’ll have plenty of time to map out everything down here once we’ve taken care of our business with the Tower. I hear you’ve become quite the expert at escaping from court.”

Edgar let out the breath he’d been holding. “I learned from the best.”

“That’s the spirit.” Sabin’s laughter rolled down the stone path as he set off to rejoin the others.

. . . . . .

Relm sneezed into her hand. It was just her luck she hadn’t brought any tissues. There was a loose ball of rags in one of her back pockets, but they were all thoroughly saturated with turpentine. It was her duty as an artist to see the world, but she’d had just about enough of abandoned ruins. The magic of this place was as thick as pollen in springtime, and just as aggravating to her sinuses.

She sneezed again and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. It didn’t help.

“That’s a disgusting habit.” Setzer produced a handkerchief from the cuff of his sleeve like a magician and offered it to her.

“Don’t be a creep,” Relm countered, but she accepted the handkerchief and blew her nose properly.

“You want this back?”

“Keep it. My treat. Have some of this too.”

He placed a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid into the palm of her hand before she could object.

“This isn’t booze, is it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s tonic water mixed with mint and a drop or two of ether. I use it for hangovers, but I assume it will work for allergies.”

Relm removed the cork stopper and sniffed the bottle. Small bubbles rose from the liquid, which was pleasantly fragrant. “It’s a placebo,” Relm decided.

“Of course it’s a placebo,” Setzer agreed. “Not even magic works on hangovers. Drink it anyway.”

“Fine.” Relm tilted her head back and downed the bottle in one gulp. The concoction tasted exactly as Setzer said it would – of mint and ether. There was also a touch of citrus, perhaps to keep it fresh.

She sneezed again. “I’m going to sit down for a bit,” she said after wiping her nose. “You go on ahead.”

“I think I’ll sit with you.”

Relm scowled. “I’m not a child. It’s not like I’m going to get lost if you’re not here to watch me.”

“Who said it’s for your benefit? We’ve been walking for hours, and my back hurts. Didn’t anyone teach you to be considerate of your elders?”

Relm shrugged and took out her sketchbook. Setzer wasn’t bothering her, and she’d always liked when people watched her sketch – it was like she could see her drawing through another pair of eyes.

She had been walking with Terra and Celes as they circumnavigated the lake, but she’d allowed herself to fall behind once the path became steeper as it headed uphill toward the castle. It was a stroke of good fortune that Setzer had caught up with her at a particularly good vantage point. Relm made a rough outline of the castle before filling in the details, all the while keeping her eye out for any potential points of structural unsoundness. She was too young to die, although she had to admit that being trapped in the crumbling ruins of an ancient castle would be a suitably glamorous way to go.

Relm glanced over at Setzer, who was neither sitting nor watching her. He regarded the ruins of the castle with a cold and appraising gaze.

“Do you think it will come down on us?” she asked. If anyone would know about things crashing, it was Setzer.

“I doubt it,” he replied. “The magic is so thick in this place I can smell it. Whatever has been keeping this castle standing won’t be affected by our presence. But who can say? With our luck, there’ll be some sort of dragon waiting to meet us in the foyer.” He paused and finally looked down at her sketch. “Notice anything interesting?”

She had, in fact. At the moment she was adding it to her sketch as one of the finishing touches. “I think there might be secret passage.”

“On the lower level, leading into the rock behind the castle? I was thinking the same thing myself. How much would you like to bet that Terra leads us straight there?”

“I don’t gamble,” Relm replied primly as she stood up and closed her sketchbook. “It’s a disgusting habit.”

. . . . . .

Terra sat on a stone bench in the castle gallery, watching as Relm and Celes studied the ossified body of Odin. Neither of them appeared to have noticed that the magic of the stone was sealing the entrance to a secret passageway. She’d bring it to their attention once they finished their examination.

“So this Esper was supposed to be the queen’s knight?” Relm asked with a frown.

“Who wouldn’t want to have a bodyguard like this?” Celes slapped one of the statue’s meaty thighs. “Just look at this big boy.”

“Do you think they were, you know…?”

“They were,” Terra confirmed. They both turned to look at her.

Celes’s surprised expression softened into a smile. “That must have been so romantic, being in love with someone you saw every day but could never touch.”

“Think of the pining,” Relm agreed with a sage nod.

“Oh, but they did touch each other. They could even have had children,” Terra corrected them. “It would have been possible. I remember that was something my parents worried about, but their concern turned out to be groundless. They had me, after all.”

“Wait, hold up,” Relm objected. “You remember your parents talking about how they were worried about having children? Wouldn’t that have happened, like, before you were born? How could you remember something like that?”

Terra was confused by the question. “Doesn’t everyone have memories from before they were born?”

Relm’s eyes went wide, and Celes laughed. She crossed the room and sat down next to Terra before throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“You beautiful creature,” she said, kissing Terra’s cheek and smoothing back her hair. “Never change.”

“Is that an Esper thing?” Relm asked as she joined them, sitting down on the other side of Terra. “That’s not fair! I want to have an Esper father too. Hey Terra, do you think my dad might have been an Esper?”

Terra looked into the past. It was right there beside them, after all, spreading behind them like a rich and vibrantly colored shadow. She could see who Relm’s father was, and she could see the moment when Relm discovered his identity for herself, but she decided not to say anything. She liked to keep some ‘Esper things’ to herself, after all.

“Perhaps,” Terra offered. She paused for a moment and decided to add something a bit more human. “No matter who he was, I’m sure he loved you very much.”

. . . . . .

The dragon guarding the sealed passage leading away from the castle had been a pathetic thing, old and weak from hunger. Its tired eyes had been milky with age and neglect. Celes felt bad about killing it, but it refused to let them retreat once it had spotted them.

The chamber that housed the statue of the ancient queen was a mirror of the gallery where Odin had made his last stand. Celes held what remained of him in her hand, watching his magicite sparkle as its facets caught the light. When called, his spirit had sprung from the stone, riding a horse that had not been a horse, not with teeth like that. He wielded his sword not with grace or finesse, but with absolute power, as one of the old gods might have wielded a gale wind to cleave a mountain in twain.

Celes didn’t know what sort of wizard it would take to turn bring Odin to his knees at the height of his prowess, but she could make a guess.

She leaned back against the stone wall. The bench she sat on was oddly warm. The moss from the tunnel connecting the lower reaches of the castle to the outlying cave system had made its way inside, and patches of luminescence spread across the dips and planes of the vaulted ceiling. The queen’s statue seemed to emit a soft white radiance into the dim interior.

Celes felt rather than heard Sabin approach. Even on the marble floor, his footsteps made no sound.

“Celes?” he called out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she responded. “Is it time to leave?”

“There’s no hurry. Edgar and Setzer are arguing about something, and Relm and Terra are doing a spot of art appreciation. I just came to check up on you.”

“Thanks.” Celes moved to the side, offering Sabin a place beside her. He took it, sighing with relief as he sat down.

A few moments passed in companionable silence. “That was an impressive performance against the dragon,” Sabin said eventually. “I can’t seem to summon Espers for the life of me. Is there a trick to it?”

“No trick, just years of training.”

“I can imagine.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “Or I can’t, not at all. I’ve done my fair share of training, but what you went through must have been on a different level entirely. It paid off, at least.”

“I guess it did,” Celes replied, and Sabin didn’t pursue the matter. She appreciated that about Sabin – he never judged her for anything she’d done, past or present. Not for anything she would do in the future. How rare it was to find someone who only thought the best of you.

Or perhaps it wasn’t rare at all. Perhaps Sabin was normal, and she was the anomaly.

“It was always difficult, after the injections.” The words left her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Sabin nodded to show that he was listening, but he didn’t reply with any questions or comments. Celes decided to keep talking.

“It was dangerous – extremely dangerous – before Cid perfected the process. People died from the injections, and many of those who didn’t had to be euthanized afterwards. I wasn’t supposed to watch, but sometimes I did. I was horrified by how magic transformed the trial subjects, but I was never afraid that what I saw would happen to me. It might have been because I was so young, but the injections never hurt me in the same way they hurt the adults they were tested on – first prisoners, and then soldiers.

“It was the same with Kefka, at least at first. The experiments must have caused him terrible pain, but he never showed it. You might not believe this, but he was always cool and level-headed. I couldn’t tell you why he had such a natural tolerance for the injections, I never paid much attention to the science. Kefka tried to explain it to me himself with some analogy involving blood types, but there were too many words I didn’t understand.

“Kefka was never gentle, not in the way Cid always was, but he was kind, in his own way – or he was kind to me, at least. Then something happened. That was right around the time Vector began its preparations for war, and I think it had something to do with the emperor, but who can say?

“Whatever it was, Kefka began to take injections more frequently, sometimes even daily. Eventually he started to lose control. That’s when I learned to absorb magic. Kefka taught me the technique himself. If he hadn’t, the entire lab would more than likely have been destroyed.”

Celes shook her head. “There was something Kefka wanted, and he would do whatever it took to get it, even if that meant he lost himself along the way. Maybe he meant to destroy the Empire all along, and maybe he trained me to…”

Celes couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought: Maybe he trained me to stop him. She had failed once, but she might still have a chance. It would be a mercy, she told herself.

“Do you ever miss Vector?” Sabin asked, subtly changing the subject.

“No,” Celes replied. She didn’t think she was lying. “When that tower falls, I’m going to go back. Don’t laugh at me, but I want to plant trees. Over the whole mess, so that no one will even know it’s there in another hundred years.”

“I’m not laughing.” Sabin smiled at her. “Once you’re done, feel free to come visit us in the desert. You’re not the only one with ghosts in the basement, after all. We could use some trees here too.”

Celes stood up. It might take another thousand years, but one day all of this would be buried – the terrible things that happened in Vector, whatever terrible things had happened in this castle, all of it.

“What do you think happened to the evil wizard who turned Odin to stone?” she asked as she approached the statue of the ancient queen.

“She doesn’t look so evil to me,” Sabin answered, confirming her suspicions. “The choices we have to make aren’t always so easy, even in hindsight. We do what we can.”

“He must have really loved her,” Celes murmured. Odin’s magicite began to glow and hum as she drew closer. She held it out like an offering and watched in amazement as tears pooled in the statue’s eyes. They fell onto the warm crystal like drops of light.

“We do what we can,” she agreed softly.

#azurefishnets #Final Fantasy VI #Celes Chere #Terra Branford #Relm Arrowny #Edgar Figaro #Sabin Figaro #Setzer Gabbiani #my fic

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