#that was somewhat prevented by ben/damned??

[artificerstimetable]

muahaha doobles

[munohlow]

Just finished season 4. I saw people were upset about Five getting up to some bullshit without spoiling myself but damn I wished that was the only problem. Everyone else has already expressed more thought out and passionate reactions but here’s what I got:

I like the Mandela effect/ true timeline cult premise after the Umbrellas have caused and prevented a handful of apocalypses. I also like them revealing the incident of Ben’s death and it being a big cover up. Reginald’s selfishness coming back to destroy the world makes sense. The details and everything beyond that is wack

They should’ve gone back to stop Reginald from ever spreading the marigold. Make him the big antagonist who is inadvertently causing the world to end and putting the responsibility on his kids. Have big fights and plot twists, etc. but the actual finale is a better version of the convo from season 2, they get through to him and manage to reason with him. Maybe they explain how in every timeline he still has to rely on them. Even with a different academy roster, the Umbrellas imperfect humanity and family support is what helped them endure different timelines and apocalypses and is still superior to his cold heartless way of thinking. Boom! The kids AND the dad go to therapy.

He either doesn’t release the marigold and they’re natural born in the fixed timeline and get to live normal happy lives. Or the marigold is still released but Reginald decides not to interfere so the Umbrellas still exist somewhat as they are but are more functional people I guess? At the very least, Pogo raises them and everything is cool

[biblioflyer]

Discovery S5E1 first reactions (spoilers)

Every season, Star Trek's ugly duckling starts finding its footing a little better. I'm actually sad now its at its end.

I was prepared to be grumpy. For the first half hour or so, I was a little bit of a sourpuss. All the classic Discovery sins were on display in full force.

The main character syndrome. Burnham is leading from the front. Again. Didn't we have a whole season character arc about how captaining means sometimes you have to delegate?

Okay, okay, don't at me. The reasons for her to Kirk it up in the thick of things were reasonably well thought out.

I'm really torn between appreciating the whole "Iron Man" sequence in space as a smart, logical extrapolation of the technological development of the series and just being somewhat numb and feeling like the whole thing was rule of cool from start to finish.

They better not skimp out on Raynor's backstory and motives, because thus far every call he's made has been even more devoid of compassion as Captain Shaw, but critically none of his hard man making hard choices directives make sense. He's being set up as an Ahab type character.

Now this isn't the first time we've have a Starfleet Ahab. Ben Maxwell was just such a character. Critically though, he was a renegade that our hero characters were called in to hunt down like a mad dog precisely because, understandable motives or not, he was so far outside the bell curve for acceptable Starfleet standards for rules of engagement, compassion etc. that he was on the verge of provoking a war with the Cardassians.

A war that a lot of revisionist fans, mapping Cardassia and its ultimate alliance with the Dominion to Russia and the invasion of Ukraine, have come around to thinking a preventative war was good and cool, rather than risking an apocalypse. I've talked about this a few times, but the fact that the protomatter, temporal, isolytic, trilithium, biological etc. weapons haven't been deployed in quantity in the wars that have been depicted in Trek means everyone got damn lucky. Strange New Worlds has even seen fit to remind us that even with just conventional weapons, its not hard for casualties to run up into the millions given the scale of the civilizations butting heads.

But that's a rant for another time.

So Raynor being within spitting distance, if not wholly inside of the Section 31 anything for the mission mentality, is irksome. I'm probably not doing my due diligence by complaining without watching episode two yet, but still its a bad look. Its a nasty callback to depictions of casual jerkiness and military caricature from Picard's third season and Discovery's first.

Also I don't care about Burnham and Book’s relationship. I just don't. Nor am I particularly interested in Tilly finding love. They’re all fine and interesting characters without needing to inject relationship drama into the mix. This show has really started to feel like it doesn’t need to rely on cheap sources of melodrama. Finding love isn't the only pathway to character development. I don't watch this franchise for NCC-90210 storylines.

And I'm also a raging hypocrite because if anything happens to Saru and T'Rina, I will be even grumpier! Same with Culber and Stamets.

I may have a soft spot for warm, lived in, tender relationships and minimal patience for stories about relationship drama among the stars.

Also, I do appreciate that at least in the first episode, the Burnham - Book "ship" feels less overwrought. The awkwardness between them reads as a more mature, more nuanced incarnation of the relationship. Even when they inevitably patch things up, I really hope its less showy and melodramatic, and more cozy.

Grumpiness aside, I have to compliment the cast, writers, and crew enormously. This show has matured so impressively in the sense that the cast are able to find the characters in a natural and seamless way. The writers are putting better dialogue in their mouths even if I don't always necessarily want to see the specific storylines playing out.

Its a testament to the idea that art is a thing you practice and the human beings involved in producing this stuff need time and space to get it right. By legacy TV standards, Discovery is only just starting the equivalent of its third season. We used to talk about the two season rule for legacy Trek. The idea that it really only got good, not merely watchable if you have a good tolerance for cheese, but actually good in the third season.

The action sequences, mostly, were really good too. Well composed, clear and easy to follow while having a decent amount of drama and uncertainty to them.

The chase sequence really managed to capture the power and physics of having starships operating inside the atmosphere of a planet and what they can do. Although I'm sure the tech fans will froth at a number of obvious inconsistencies in scaling, at least we actually see some interesting consequences of ships interacting with planets.

Additionally it also accidentally portrays one of the world building problems with the version of the Star Wars universe depicted by the Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith Incredible Cross Sections books. Yes, I'm one of those kinds of fans who has argued both sides of that particular controversy. I've always found Dr. Saxton's attempts to quantify just what is going on and then contrive explanations for how its possible fascinating, but ultimately it presents serious world building problems. Like the idea that one scoundrel with one relatively diminutive ship, like the Falcon or Slave I, could utterly wreck a populated area in seconds causing thousands, if not tens of thousands of casualties if they're having a bad day. Such are the elemental forces and energy levels at the disposal of even common riff raff in Dr. Saxton's depiction of Star Wars.

In Discovery, we see what happens when a couple of scoundrels have their back up against a wall, and it comes within a hair's breadth of tragedy.

BIG SPOILERS

The callback to the Progenitors is also really interesting. I'm curious as to what the MacGuffin will ultimately be, because if you scrutinize the various technologies of the week in Trek, most of the mature space faring peoples already seemed to have the capacity to do what the Progenitors could do: seed a planet with life and then guide that life across billions of years of evolution to a desirable endpoint. The main thing that is missing is the ability to ensure, in the style of Expanse's Protomolecule Builders, that your project can babysit itself without direct intervention for all that time.

Also kudos to Discovery for its cutesy storytelling device of grabbing a background character and turning them into someone of great significance. This is something that can be overdone, see also: Star Wars, especially the Legends continuity; but I have a soft spot for lore nerds.

Also speaking of Lore, I'm a little curious as to whether this is the last we'll hear of Fred. Synth "death" is kind of an ambiguous thing. They were able to harvest usable data from him, but perhaps there's a meaningful difference between the systems responsible for consciousness and memory storage? Perhaps the ocular memory is a sort of buffer in which information is triaged, analyzed, and then either committed to long term memory or deleted.

[medusasterling]

My Unpopular Opinions #3: Character Development - Star Wars Sequels

When I say unpopular that means one of two things: a) stuff the people I know don't give a damn about and don't care to hear or b) stuff the people I know don't agree with and don't care to hear.

I don't think the character development the original trio went through between the Original Trilogy and the Sequels is completely baseless. I'm not saying it is great but it's not completely garbage either. (Do note that this is based solely on the films as I have not read any of the books, comics etc)

Now, hear me out:

Leia: ... Actually, I don't think there's much to talk about here. New threat rose so she fell back on past experiences and formed the resistance... So that's that.

Han: I have heard it said that the problem with Han's characterisation is that there was sub-zero development between the OT and the Sequels and it rolls back on his development from the OT. And that is... not wrong, I'd say, but it's also not quite right - or maybe "implausible" is the better term.

Yes, Han was pretty underwhelming as a parent. And yes, he does go back to being a smuggler and scoundrel after Ben becomes Kylo. And yes, that seems to be in contrast to where his character is at the end of ROTJ.

But, is it? Being more readily/openly caring and helping toppling a galactic empire doesn't necessarily qualify you for being a good parent. You can care about your friends, family, lover and still be completely out of your depths with handling a child. Even your own, even if you love the kid. Love does not equal good parenting. It's certainly a big part but it's not all you need. And Han might just not have been ready to have a kid (or not as ready as he thought at least) and add to that the Force, which he has come into contact with but doesn't know how to handle and of course he's going to be out of his depth.

And when people are out of their depths, they like to fall back on the familiar (sometimes even if they know its going to be unhelpful / is a bad choice). So with the turmoil of a kid you don't actually know how to handle, teach or help and then the added mess of that kid turning evil, I can totally see how Han might fall back on smuggling & being a scoundrel. The split up with Leia is something that follows from that, a mix of stress, being out of one's depth and the somewhat traumatic experience of "your son just killed his classmates, tried to kill your brother/brother-in-law, burned down a temple and joined an evil would-be-empire, just like your father/father-in-law" could put enough of a strain on your emotional/mental state and your relationship to break the camel's back.

Luke: His characterisation is considered almost heresy it seems. But I think there is a way to look at it that might at least be somewhat understandable.

And it all begins with the idea that Luke wasn't hiding to protect himself or to shut out the world but to protect the world from himself.

Luke in the OT is the paragon hero with unfailing belief in the good in people, especially his family and who is completely unwilling to give up on people.

Now imagine that, knowing his father's story, Luke is constantly sensing the darkness lingering around his nephew who is also incidentally very powerful in the Force. And this paragon decides to believe in his nephew because of course he believes in his family but it still persists and it keeps coming back to his mind. And then, in a moment of weakness, he gives in, he actually contemplates killing his nephew to avoid giving rise to another Darth Vader. Then he catches himself, realises what he was just about to do and regrets it immediately but the damage is done.

So now Luke has just accidentally through one moment of weakness caused the exact thing he wanted to prevent. He created this problem. He was what pushed Ben over the edge and caused him to become Kylo Ren, the new Darth Vader.

And it eats at him. If he was willing to give up on his own nephew, to even consider killing him, what else might he do? It's not just a lapse of judgement, it's a betrayal of what he thought fundamental about himself, his belief in the good in people.

So with what he tried already in shambles and his faith in himself equally battered, he runs to the farthest corner of more or less known space, where there is no-one. No-one to find him, no-one he can hurt in another lapse of judgement. And to be thorough and extra safe, he cuts himself off from the Force. Because he knows how to astral project and he can't risk the temptation of meddling even from a distance because what if he lapses again?

So he lives out the next years in self-imposed exile. Not to protect himself or because he has lost faith in the world, but because he has lost faith in himself and wants to protect the rest of the galaxy from what he might do if left unchecked. And he would be unchecked, because who could match him for power?

And then, years later, a girl he knows nothing about shows up on his island, offers him a lightsaber he last held when he was a much younger, very different person. And she's brimming with all this power but there's darkness too and he's scared. Scared Rey might become like Kylo Ren - failed by her mentor and turned to evil, scared he might fail her like he failed Ben. So he's grumpy and dismissive and does what he can to get her to leave but she won't. So he reluctantly does teach her, but he's still not sure it's a good idea, afraid, not even so much of her turning to the dark but of making the same mistakes he did with Ben. Plus years in isolation probably made his social skills rusty.

Now, I know there's no concrete evidence for this in the films. We don't get to hear characters' thoughts. But it's a possible interpretation.

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Hi Ceph! OC Birthday as for Renato - gift, envelope, & music!

Thank you for the asks, and for feeding Renato's need for attention <3

🎁 Gift: What sort of presents would the other characters get them? Which gift would be the favorite? Least favorite?

Mergus, his maker, used to pick out presents consisting of hard to find goods when Renato was still a human. CDs, vinyl record players, a Gameboy color (phones and computers didn't make a real comeback until decades after the break). Shoes, clothes. Comics, books. Renato stopped paying attention to his birthdays soon after becoming a bloodborn, but Mergus still gets him gifts now and then when he sees something his fledgling might appreciate.

Isaac wouldn't bother the first couple of years after meeting Renato (and who could blame him). But once things improve between them somewhat...he'd very awkwardly start offering small things. Decorations for Renato's fishtank, interesting seashells he found, vampire-related novelties. Eventually, Isaac would work up the nerve to give him something fancy like cologne (Elfy would help him pick it out and lend moral support). Renato would treasure each of these above all other gifts.

Ollie, Renato's ex-girlfriend, has gotten him the same thing every year since they broke up: a rotting fish stuffed into his belongings. This year it's going to be a halibut left in his car. Renato hates this for obvious reasons, but especially because he knows it's coming yet can never seem to prevent it.

Dorian would get him a wide variety of things that they just happened across and thought he might like: little paintings or figures of Catholic saints, sea creature art, ships in bottles, and, of course, coats/jackets.

Ben's gifts tend to be, hm, quite personal, and can be left at that when in polite company.

Kinslayer would reconstruct a pleasant or sentimental memory in vivid detail for Renato in his dreams. This would be done in secret and they would never let on they'd had any hand in this whatsoever.

✉️ Envelope: Who would be on the guest list for their birthday party? Who would get left out and why?

In no particular order:

Tesoro (Renato's goldfish and the real guest of honor in his eyes)

Isaac

Dorian

Elfy (who insists on bringing the drinks)

Kinslayer and their friends (Renato is actually terrified of what so many psychic vampires in one place might do, but is more terrified of offending them by not extending an invitation)

Desmond, Micaela, Ben, and the whole damn Olympia group of bloodborn

Tilda

Ursula von Trier and the Council of the Sepulchral Lamp (similar situation as with Kinslayer and co.)

Larry Hart and the wereshark community

Ceph (if they promise to behave themselves)

Ollie (despite the rotten fish thing he does still love her)

Mergus, Hawthorne, Mayer and the rest of the Unseen Hand wouldn't get invited. You know, on account of the whole betrayal and trying to kill one another thing.

🎶 Music: Being sung a birthday song. Yea or nay?

People celebrating him being alive? Yes, he'd like some more of that please.

[nevertheless-moving]

Lost Luke Part Three

Star Wars Time Travel AU #19  (Wholesome Luke Time Travel AU) Part One . . . Part Two

One of the best things to imagine in this au is how the Skywalkers interact with Obi-Wan Kenobi because this is just before/interrupts the incidents that profoundly broke their faith in him but after he earned their unshakeable devotion (that is, to say, after he met them).

Anakin: “So you lived with your Aunt and Uncle but Obi-Wan was the one who actually raised you, right?” Luke, who has barely ever had a conversation with Old Ben: “No, I mean he seemed cool obviously but no. I mean he was around sometimes I guess...” Anakin, nodding knowingly: “Yeah, he totally raised you. He’s stealthy about that sort of thing.” Luke: ...?

Later on, as Luke is learning about the force and stuff, he starts to get a little bit more of a sense of how Ben had in fact been a feature in his life 

(he’s been hired on as civilian mechanic with the 501st. Obviously this should be banned because a) that’s not a thing and b) attachment, but consider: He’s genuinely talented at everything, the Council reluctantly kind-of liked this one, Anakin pulled the slave card right when the council was at peak-slave guilt, Obi-Wan was quietly sure if they said no Anakin would quit, and also when Palpatine first heard about twin brother he went, ‘oh, worm?’ (The whole Luke vs Palpatine is a separate thing))

Pretty much everything he figures out about Ben on Tatooine is just- really sad. Like, he knew the Jedi were gone and Ben was upset about it but the Jedi are clearly Obi-Wan’s entirely family and culture oh my gods he really didn’t have anything did he.

And Luke doesn’t quite share Anakin’s conviction that Obi-Wan was on Tatooine just for him- it is in Hutt space, not a bad spot for avoiding imps. Luke was maybe a coincidence, or a bonus. Why else would he wait so long to actually introduce himself? It’s uncomfortable either way to think about this incredible Jedi Master and General fallen so low, an outcast and a drunk. But living on Tatooine for the sole purpose of being the same vague proximity as his dead friend’s son would be...yikes, pretty tragic.

The more he meditates and learns, the more he feels that something about Obi-Wan’s force-signature is familiar, but he can’t quite make it match up with his hazier pre-training memories. 

It’s not until Obi-Wan is truly miserable- maybe a trooper Obi-Wan tried desperately to save dies in his arms- that Luke goes oh. Because the ozone-heavy-petrichor-aura of Obi-Wan’s grief is a lot more familiar. 

The impression of Obi-Wan’s quiet sadness clung to the incredible hand carved ships Luke found on Shmi’s grave as a child, and ok that explains where those came from. 

A few nights when he was young he tasted the scent on the wind, always when there rumors about Sand People Raids, and that also explained how their homestead sometimes seemed mysteriously protected, even if Owen’s irritation and anger about the fact still didn’t make sense.

One time while racing alone in begger’s canyon he had panicked at the rumble of a Krayt dragon beneath his speeder, only to nearly crash in relief when a mating call from over the ridge redirected it. He had even tried to describe the petrichor smell to his friends but everyone in town acted like he made the whole thing up, because Old Ben had even been seen leaving town around the same time and he didn’t look eaten either.

The time he most vividly remembers the force-impression was just a couple years ago, when he and Biggs were in trouble with some of Jabba goons over a complete misunderstanding- long story. Luke admitted that he might have been a little drunk- again, a total misunderstanding. He and Biggs were hiding under a filthy cantina table when they heard shouting just outside, one of the voices recognizable as a particularly sadistic enforcer. Someone entered the bar and approached the bartender to ask a question; the two tensed up in fear. Footsteps drew closer to their not-very-good hiding spot and a man sat down, inadvertently kicking Luke in the face.

Old Ben peered beneath the table, looking extremely surprised, “Luke? What in the core are you doing under there?”

Biggs shushed the drunk Hermit, desperately whispering, “Please Mr. Kenobi, Jabba’s goons are after this, you can’t let them know we’re under here.”

“Jabba’s goons?” Ben asked, sounding bewildered, “You mean those ruffians who were standing outside?”

Luke and Biggs nodded frantically. 

“Oh, they left, you don’t have to worry about them.” Ben took a sip of his drink, leaning back with a smile. 

The two boys exchanged a look, “Are you- are you sure? They seemed pretty mad.” Luke asked tentatively.

“Oh, yes. Apparently there was a break-in at one of Jabba’s warehouses and he’s extremely displeased at all of his servants for their failure to prevent it. I imagine whatever small quarrel they had with you will be totally forgotten in the fallout.”

The pair dragged themselves up to the bench across from Kenobi, slouching over in relief. 

“Oh my gods- thank the Krayt! Let’s get out of here, Luke. See, I told you things would blow over.” 

Luke punched Biggs in the shoulder, “Yeah, right. We got lucky, bantha brains.” Luke cleared his throat and addressed Old Ben directly, “Thank you- I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t shown up.” 

At the time he had ignored the hair raising on the back of his neck, the surge of foreign mixed emotions, and the strangely familiar smell-that-wasn’t-a-smell he could never quite identify. 

At 17, he was somewhat used to what his Uncle called his ‘damn bleeding heart’ and what Bigs called ‘being weird about other people.' He figured it was kind-of like how deep spacers got twitchy about crowds after spending months with just himself- he spent so much time on the farm that sometimes just being around other people was overwhelming. Plus he was a little drunk at the moment.

Ben cleared his throat, “Oh no, no need to thank me, I’m sure I had nothing to do with it.” 

Biggs rolled his eyes. “...Right. Well, anyway, thanks for letting us know. Come on Luke, let’s beat it!” And they scurried out, not looking back. 

-

Luke hesitantly tells Anakin about the almost-familiar force presence that clung to these memories and Anakin gets frustrated and sad and happy and confused because force why did Obi-Wan have to be so weird about feelings? He appreciates that he was obviously silently protecting his son for 19 years but he seriously couldn’t have talked to him? Luke quietly grieves a man he never really had the chance to know and who he’ll never fully understand while firmly attaching himself to the current Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan: Fucks sake, now they’re both clingy, what did I do to deserve this?

[shatterpoints-and-fractures]

New Jedi Order: The Old Masters

Purge Survivors, those who remember a time before the Empire, before the Dark Times. A lot of them are actually very hands off, content to let the new generation do their work.

Anakin Skywalker: Didn’t become Palpatine’s apprentice or slaughter the Jedi at the Temple, but did cut off Mace’s hand, and promptly passed out from shock. Has plastic surgery so he looks relatively normal, and honestly just hangs around and fixes the Order’s ships. Dies 21 ABY, becoming one with the Force to prevent Palpatine’s second attempted resurrection, saving his youngest granddaughter, Shmi, in the process.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Unfortunately dies in 10 ABY, his adventures and various injuries (especially those caused by Palpatine & C’Boath) finally running him down. Sassmaster to the end. Proves ghosts can cry when Mara names her and Luke’s firstborn after him (Obi Wan, Ben is actually a nickname). Basically became Yoda in his last years.

Ahsoka Tano: Cool aunt, later cool grandma of the Order, and operates the Order’s unofficial intelligence network, which she later hands off to Mara Jade. Ben’s master alongside Cal Kestis. Joins the fighting during the Yuuzhan Vong War and might have to be physically restrained to keep her from fighting the First Order (though there’s a large section of the Jedi who think they shouldn’t bother).

Soaring Hawkbat Clan: Led by K’khruk and Chase Piru, a small community of Force more beholden to the old Jedi’s ways, and somewhat estranged from the much more reformed New Jedi Order. Comes back into the fold during the YZV War, with both K’khruk and Piru serving on the Naboo Council by 38 ABY.

T’ra Saa: A Neti Jedi, taken up exile on a remote world following her husband’s death, but returned to the wider galaxy after being discovered by her lineage descendant, Ezra Bridger. Embarrassing Grandma for Ezra, Pypey, Barratk’l, Jacen and Korto Vos. Sacrifices her life to allow the Jedi to escape the Yuuzhan Vong siege of Yavin 4 in 26 ABY.

Ikrit: A Jedi who served with the Order during the High Republic, who went into a state of prolonged Force Hibernation on Yavin 4, completely circumventing the Jedi Purge. Would be awoken in 20 ABY by Anakin Solo and Tahiri Veila, the former xey would take as xer official Padawan. Would give xer life to allow both xer pupils to escape the siege of Yavin 4, breaking a centuries long vow of pacifism to hold off a team of Slayer Vong and drawing fire from Peace Brigade.

Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy “Scout”: A member of the Fulcrum intelligence network in the Rebellion, who re-founds the Antarian Rangers following the foundation of the New Jedi Order, and would weather the YZV War before retiring to serve as a mentor and advisor at the Ossus Jedi Temple.

Cere Junda: Cal’s second master, gets in debates with Obi-Wan and Anakin. Forever grateful she lived long enough to new the Jedi born anew. Dies peacefully in 23 ABY. Tionne’s informal teacher and responsible for training new searchers.

-----Old Jedi who didn’t rejoin, yet still stayed close-----

Katooni Muwal: Lucky enough to have escaped Operation: Knightfall, unlucky to be the only escapee to have outlasted the Empire. She would find herself with her old friend Hondo Ohnaka, eventually becoming his right hand...up until she ousted him (he couldn’t be prouder). The Pirate Queen would eventually join the New Republic as a privateer against the Empire and the Yuuzhan Vong, and flirt with the idea, but never commit to, going straight, including trading an apprentice by the name of Sidon Ithano...

Oppo Rancisis: Laying low on the planet he was on during Order 66, by the time of the NJO’s foundation, had found a place in the re-established Church of the Whills, alongside people like Lor San Tekka. Would be a keystone member of the Great River underground refugee network during the YZV War, finally dying at peace on Zenoma Sekot in 32 ABY.

Barriss Offee: Jedi, Sith, healer, killer, damned, redeemed. Barriss’ journey has been a long and fraught one, and her journey to the Light has revealed ugly truths about herself. Yet she continues on, a wandering healer and holy woman, close with the NJO yet following her own path, her only desire to help the downtrodden and heal the sick.

Asajj Ventress: Ventress’ adventures during the reign of the Empire would remain unknown, but by 20 ABY, she would return to the valley of the Nightsisters, maintaining a solemn vigil over her dead people and exploring the Force. Such vigil would be broken, repeatedly, by members of the NJO, until she resigned herself to helping the next one before they began begging.

[kisstheassassins]

Hi there😊May I request a HC with Connor and SO who is an assassin in The Tyranny of King, but in this SO doesn't remember him when he finds her in the same prison as Kanen'tó:kon hanging by her wrists being tortured by a bluecoat(similar to what happened to Leliana in DA Inquisition). Also she would the same person he originally knew, but cold & kind of emotionless. Not to mention she wouldn't trust him either. Lol sorry that got dark, but thank you for taking the time to read this!

I hope this is to your liking 😊

Also im using (p/n) as your preferred pronouns.

The two men had finally been liberated from the prison they were held in, but Kanen had one last thing to do here before he could finally leave.

There they were at a four-way cross section of the jail, with Kanen looking around at each hallway as if he were trying to remember something.

"What is it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked his friend; his hand was pulling on Kanen's arm to make him hurry, but he pulled away.

"We cannot leave yet," the other man says, running down one of the halls. If Connor hadn't trusted his friend he would have gone the other way, but he follows close behind.

They find themselves at a closed door, and behind it a voice can be heard. It's cold and harsh, and upon creaking the door open Kanen realizes its not just one person, but two. You hang by your wrists from the ceiling by chains, feet barely hitting the floor as you gasp for each breath.

"I know that there were more of you," the guard says harshly. He has some sort of blunt weapon in his hand to strike you when he thinks you're either lying, or doesn't like the answer you give him. Your face is bloodied and bruised.

"Beat me all you want," you growl, "I'm not saying a damn thing. You and your false King can rot in hell."

Your voice rang through Ratonhnhaké:tons ears like a cannon firing just beside him. His breath quickens as he and Kanen rush in just before the guard strikes you, startling him.

However, before they can reach him your legs wrap around his neck tightly, using your chains to lift you up and choke the man with your limbs. You apply more pressure with each passing minute, and eventually jerk your hips sideways to result the sound of his neck snapping. His body slumps to the floor, as well as your legs. You're exhausted.

Kanen moves the dead body to the side and searches for the key while Ratonhnhaké:ton looks you over. He's still trying to process that he even found you, let alone in this prison. And the state of you; it made him sick to see you so beaten. He always promised to protect you and to prevent this type of thing.

"Took your bloody time," you say, an exasperated smile gracing your lips. Kanen unlocks the braces one by one, and Ratonhnhaké:ton helps you stand when each hand is free. You can't help but fall to the floor, and he helps you down gently. Kanen kneels on the other side of you.

"I don't particularly enjoy leaving my friends behind," he says. You rub your wrists and wince at the pain; no doubt these bruises would be here a while.

Your eyes meet the other man's, suspicion building up the more he stares. His eyes are soft and his mouth is partially open like he wants to say something.

"Friend of yours?" you ask, looking up at Kanen. He nods.

"More like a brother. This is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

You both lock eyes again, and a sense if warmth and familiarity fill your chest. It confuses you; you know you have never met this man in your life, so why are you so..... fuzzy?

You nod at him in greeting.

"(Y/n)," you say, and even though he knows it, he smiles to you anyway.

Kanen and Ratonhnhaké:ton help you stand up and keep you close to support your legs, as it was somewhat difficult to walk after the beatings you received.

"Go on ahead," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, "I'll help (p/n)."

With just you two now following a ways behind Kanen, Connor has a close grip on you and you can't help but notice how closely he watches you. You don't have to look to know, but you can feel his eyes on you.

You try to break the wall with small talk.

"Thanks for doing this," you say, "uh.... " A laugh escapes you. "Sorry, I don't know how to say your name."

He knew it was coming, but he played a long.

"What would you like to call me then?" he asks softly. Your eyes meet his once again and you chuckle.

"My mentor," you begin, "he had a son. Died when he was only six." A pause. "Is Connor okay?"

The man smiles and nods, fixing his grip on your back. You fall in closer to him as your legs are still weak.

"It's perfect," he chuckles, but you weren't able to feel how his heart ached and yearned for you at that moment. "How about we get out of here, hm?"

-----

Benjamin Franklin had been attending to your wounds on your hands and wrists, while the other two who saved you leaned over a table discussing their next move for the revolution over Washington. You can't help but stare at Connor and wonder why he felt so familiar to you, but you never met the man.

"Something bothering you, (y/n)? " Ben asks. You keep your eyes focused.

"How come I've never met Connor," you say. Your friend looks to where you are looking.

"You mean Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Your eyes glance to Ben and then back.

"We settled on Connor since I can't pronounce his name," you say.

Ben finishes up wrapping the bandages around the cut on your palm, watching you wince as he tucks the fabric in.

"Well," he begins, "I don't think Kanen'tó:kon expected to find his friend here in the midst of all this. He went to war with Washington even before Ratonhnhaké:ton and his mother did."

You sit up off the table and pulls your sleeves down over your bandages.

"Do you trust him?"

"He's been very helpful so far," he states, "in fact, I believe he's done more for us in the past week than we have in a month. I dont think you have anything to worry about."

----

A brief war table meeting later, and everyone has departed to complete their duty for the day, leaving you to rest and Connor to go over what he had missed over the past few weeks. You find yourself beside him staring at the wall of photos and drawings that you and your colleagues had collected for evidence and tracking. Connor stares up at Washington, eyes malice and eager to find the man.

"You seem to have a personal vendetta with him," you say, more so than we do."

Connor looks to you and then back at the wall, exhaling sharply.

"He has done a lot of harm and damage to my people, as well as the rest of the world. My home was burned, my people enslaved."

He stops a moment to collect himself and take a deep breath, almost preparing himself for what he had to say next.

"He... murdered my mother. My father."

You swallow the lump in your throat; people were lucky enough to survive Washington's wrath, let alone escape it. A majority of those here weren't so lucky.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

A few moments pass and you can't help but stare at him, that feeling familiarity hitting you dead in the chest again. Your palms are sweaty too, you notice, and you're chewing the inside of your cheek. Connor glances your way and turns his head when he sees you.

"What?" he says. You exhale sharply.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He shakes his head. "I feel like I've seen you before and its driving me mad."

Connor shifts in his spot, thinning his lips and staring at you, waiting, as if he wanted to speak. But he doesn't. Instead he watches you get closer.

"I don't normally trust people so easily," you say, "but seeing Kanen being so open and close to you, I feel like I can too. Don't take me the wrong way Connor, but you feel real familiar to me and I don't know why."

He smiles sheepishly, memories if you flooding his mind back in.... his original world. All of this surely had to be a nightmare.

"Perhaps we should work together," he begins, "see where this goes from here."

You smile at him and he does the same for you, making you chuckle. You pat his arm and make way upstairs; he is in close pursuit.

He prayed to his ancestors nothing happened to you after this.

[pascalpanic]

Sunscreen (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: You take a trip with Frankie and his three idiotic best friends. They find an interesting purchase in the gift shop.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, implied sexual content, lots of innuendo and flirting

A/N: HI!!! this is the first fic of the Beyond The Sea series Rach and I are writing! I can’t wait for everyone to read these! I also love @mandoalorian for doing this with me and putting up with my shit!

and happy birthday to the man behind it all!! lots of love for Pedro on this day <3

The moment Frankie steps off the plane and into the hot weather, he feels instantly at peace. He’d never even heard of St. Kitts before Santiago brought it up a few months ago, but as he looks around, he’s already thinking this might have to be the place he brings you on your honeymoon someday, once he gets the courage to propose.

Your bright laughter rings out behind him, a few steps higher as you walk down the stairs for deplaning. “It’s gorgeous,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Frankie’s neck from behind and pressing a loud kiss to his cheek.

“Shut the fuck up and keep it moving,” a loud voice calls from further behind Frankie- it’s Santiago, grumpy from the somewhat-long flight. The energetic man hates sitting still for too long. “You two can make out at the hotel. There’s a whole plane behind us.”

Sighing, you walked along until both you and Frankie had your feet on solid ground. Frankie pulls you into his side with a strong arm, kissing the top of your head and grinning at the way he can already feel a little sweat forming on his brow. God, it’s fucking hot. He loves it. It’s not the grueling heat that plagued the men when they were at boot camp all those years ago; it’s not the sticky humidity that makes Frankie’s curls turn to tufts of frizz beneath his ball cap. It’s just right, he thinks, as a cool breeze rushes through and moves the still heat of the tarmac. “Welcome to paradise, baby,” Frankie grins as he slides his hand down your arm until your fingers lace together.

-

The resort is beautiful. The lobby is open-aired and gorgeous, with high ceilings and marbled floors. You bounce excitedly alongside Frankie as the two of you walk in, the other three men trailing behind. Benny makes comments to Will about how the two of you are about to be insufferable, and Frankie turns and shoots him a glare.

After you check in, you drag your luggage up to the highest floor. The other three men go to their respective hotel room next door, and Frankie opens the door to your room for you.

As soon as you walk inside, your breath is taken away by the large window, showing you the expanse of the Caribbean Sea, glimmering turquoise. A hand reaches up to cover your mouth, eyes watering as you look up at Frankie. “Oh my god,” you murmur and drop your bags, rushing over.

Frankie had planned this moment. He knew you’d never seen the ocean before just moments ago, but knew you’d love it. You’ve always loved water, loved swimming in pools and creeks and any body of water you could find. The two of you had kept your little window shut during the flight, preventing you from any sneak peeks. “You like it?” he asks as he walks after you, where your face and hands are pressed to the glass.

With eyes sparkling from tears, you turn to him with a grin. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You know there’s a balcony right there,” he teases, putting a hand on your waist and pointing to the side where there’s a sliding glass door. “I’m an idiot,” you laugh and rush over to open it. You step out into the warm air once again, and the smell of sea salt fills your lungs. You can hear the rushing of the ocean, the way it crashes against the shore.

Frankie steps out after you, removing the flannel over his t-shirt. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re an ocean kind of girl,” he tells you quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” you agree and grin, kissing the side of his face.

The peaceful moment is interrupted, as always, by a loud whoop from Benny. The sliding door on the balcony over flies open and out rush the Miller brothers and Santiago. “It’s fuckin’ amazing!” Benny laughs as he grips the railing tight, leaning out over it.

“Calm down, Ben,” Will laughs but steps out as well, resting his forearms on the railing. “Look at that. The lovebirds beat us to it.”

“Ah, damn, so they can’t fuck out here now,” Santi teases, causing you to make a face of annoyance.

You lean back against Frankie and roll your eyes. “I was just telling Fish I’ve never seen the ocean,” you admit, placing your hands on his forearms and tracing the strong skin with the pads of your thumbs.

“Really?” All three men ask in sync, surprised.

You nod and shrug. “Parents never took me as a kid or anything, and I’ve never really left the Midwest before I met you fuckers,” you chuckle as you watch the white-capped waves rolling along out in the water.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Santiago grins over at you. It was his whole idea to come, and you’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it. “Could’ve mentioned it sooner though.”

“Didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug, smiling at the way you can feel Frankie’s chest bounce with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go to the beach,” you turn in Frankie’s arms and ask him with a grin, eyes wide with excitement.

“Sure thing, babe,” he nods and steals one more kiss before the two of you walk back into the hotel room.

There’s a voice from the other balcony before Frankie slides the door shut. “We’re going to the bar,” Santi yells. “Meet us there after!”

-

“What the fuck is this?” Will Miller’s gruff voice conveys across the gift shop, to where you’re admiring a shibori-dyed garment.

Looking up, you hear Benny’s loud laugh. “No way. Why would they even make this shit?” You wander over to where the four men have congregated, all staring at something in Will’s hands.

Santiago does the work for the three of you who have yet to see it and reads the label on the bottle aloud. “Seduction: pheromone sunscreen.” He laughs, absolutely in disbelief. “Awaken her passion with this pheromone-infused tanning lotion. Contains a masculine fragrance and the male pheromone, to attract a female. Damn. Does it work?” He asks the woman behind the counter, who shrugs in response.

Frankie picks up the bottle, and Will grabs another, reading the fine print. “Why in the hell did someone think this was necessary?”

You shrug and lean against him to read it too. “I don’t know. Probably for guys like Will who are desperate,” you tease, earning a playful shove that pushes you into Frankie and makes you lose your balance for a moment. “Fucker,” you mutter and steady yourself on your boyfriend’s arm.

“I’m buying it,” Santiago announces and puts it on the check-out counter. “Fish, I’m going to steal your girl with this,” he declares and pulls you into his side. “The power of the pheromone sunscreen.”

Laughing, you allow it to happen. “Maybe it’ll be irresistible, I don’t know.”

“Hey, don’t awaken my girl’s passion, man,” Frankie whines teasingly and pulls you back, wrapping both arms around you protectively. “If you’re using it, Santi, I’m using it too. It’s only fair.”

“It’s only fair if you don’t,” he shoots back. “She already loves you. It’s not like it’s gonna make her think you’re hotter. It’s only fair if I do it alone, and you’re the control.”

“Hi, I’m not a lab rat,” you speak up and push Santiago’s chest teasingly. “Try it on yourself and see if you can make other girls around here fall in love with you. Better yet, like I said, put it on Will. That’s a real test.”

The quietest of the men is your favorite to tease, mainly because of how he takes it. “You’ve never been in the ocean. I will personally make sure you never get to,” he threatens, lunging after you and making you squeal and dodge it.

-

“Is it working?” Santiago asks, giving you a full body twirl. You have to admit, the man is good-looking: you’ve always known it, and his glistening abs definitely emphasize it. Sadly for him, nothing about the pheromone sunscreen is making him unbearably attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are hidden behind mirrored sunglasses as you look at him, but you pull them down to roll your eyes at the ridiculous man.

“No,” you say with a sweet smile, taking Frankie’s hand from where it rests on his chest. He’s lying next to you in the two-seat cabana, wearing his swim trunks and ever-present ball cap. “I like this one still,” you grin as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Frankie grins back at you. “Maybe I’ll have to try that shit out,” he laughs, adjusting his hat. “If it’s so seductive, I wouldn’t mind having you all over me.”

Santiago makes a gagging noise and wanders down the beach, to where the Miller boys are playing sand volleyball a hundred yards or so away. “You know that you don’t need that for me to be all over you, baby,” you grin and lean over to give him a kiss. “Can we go swim?” You ask, sitting up and putting your sunglasses on your head.

Frankie sighs softly. This cabana was just getting comfortable. “I was thinking we could tan first,” he says, cracking his neck. “But if you want to, let’s go.”

You squeal and hop up, taking off the sunglasses before tugging on your bikini top and adjusting the bra. Frankie ogles your chest in the swimsuit and you smack his arm. “Francisco Morales, cut that out or I’m going to sit you back down and suck your dick right now.”

Frankie gulps. “Is that an offer, or-”

“Come on, Fishie,” you laugh. Grabbing his arm, you take off running through the sand, leaving him to follow. You both grin as the sand flies around you, the warm wind brushing against your skin. When you reach the edge of the water, you stand at the edge for a second and let the water rush over your feet and ankles. You look up at Frankie with big and confused eyes. “The water is so warm,” you laugh, slightly confused as you wade a little deeper.

“It’s the Caribbean Sea, babe,” Frankie chuckles, walking backwards and holding your hands, leading you deeper into the water.

“I guess,” you chuckle as the warm water surrounds more and more of your legs. “I suppose I just- Frankie!”

Note to self: never turn your back on the ocean, you mentally conclude as a wave hits Frankie from behind and knocks him over, into the salty and sandy water. You laugh a little as he falls over with a large splash, squealing as the water sprays you. He comes up a moment later, shaking his head to get the water out of your eyes. “Come on in, it’s really warm,” he tells you with a laugh, spitting the salty sea water out of his mouth. It’s only about thigh deep now, and you look down at him and wade a little deeper. He swims out and you follow, grinning.

“Hey, Frankie,” you ask, when the water reaches your navel.

“Yeah, babe?” he asks, confused when you drop your hands.

“Catch me!” You squeal as you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms catch you, but he purposely falls backwards until the both of you are under the crystal-clear water.

When you surface, you wipe your face. “That wasn’t what I meant by catch me,” you laugh, swimming over to your boyfriend, who’s surfaced in a shoulder-deep area.

“Doesn’t matter. Now you went all the way under,” he grins at you. “Now you’ve really swam in the ocean- swam? Swum?”

“Have been in,” you offer, laughing and wading over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, then your legs, and his arms encircle your middle. “It doesn’t matter. I love you so fucking much, Frankie,” you tell him with a wide grin, looking over his shoulder at the waves further out.

“I love you too, baby,” he mumbles and kisses you. His lips taste like the salt water the two of you have been submerged in. His hands grip your hips as he wanders through the water, you hanging off of him like a koala.

You rest your face in his neck, admiring the scent of seawater and sunscreen and Frankie’s skin. Frankie starts singing a terrible version of the Piña Colada Song, making you laugh and press a loving kiss to the side of his face. “Is this your way of telling me you want to hit the bar?” You tease and squeeze him a little tighter.

“Maybe. You know I hate the flying part of getting here.” It’s ironic, you’ve always thought, but you suppose it makes sense that Frankie doesn’t really like airplanes. Helicopters are and always have been his forte, and it’s a feeling you understand: when he isn’t the one flying, he gets antsy. Things are out of his control, and he doesn’t like that. “I just need a strong drink and some lovin’ from you and I think I can finally relax.”

You grin and pull back, kissing him happily for a moment before pulling back and grinning. “Well, one part of that accomplished,” you grin. A realization hits you and you gasp. “Oh my god. You’re Fishie, and you’re in the ocean,” you laugh. “How did you ever get that name?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Frankie shakes his head, his hair starting to curl as it dries. The salty water makes it even wavier. “Doesn’t matter.”

You shrug and rest your head in his neck. You sigh and enjoy the feeling of Frankie’s arms and the warm water, the way a breeze rushes past and makes the back of your neck chilly from the drops of water resting there. Frankie mindlessly watches the other three men playing volleyball, wandering around the water with you. “Frankie?” You murmur into his skin.

“Yeah baby?”

“This has already been the best vacation ever, and it’s the first full day,” you tell him and remove yourself from his body, standing next to him in the water.

He grins and kisses you softly, wrapping an arm around your side to keep you close. “I fully agree.”

The two of you wander up to the shore a while later, plopping back down in your cabana. Will has gone to the bar and comes back with tropical drinks for each of you, which you hold in one hand and sip, your boyfriend’s hand in your other one.

A while later, Santi and Benny run back, covered in sweat from the heat and the game. “How about now, huh?” He asks you, flexing his arms, grinning.

You play into it, gasping and sitting up straight. “Oh, Santi,” you coo seductively, pouting. The face drops immediately. “Nope. Not working.” “Ah, should’ve figured. Anyone attracted to Fish would have weird preferences,” he shakes his head.

Frankie takes the alcohol-saturated lime from the rim of his drink and throws it at him, which makes a smack noise as it makes contact with Santiago’s chest. “Fuck off.”

“I will do no such thing,” Santi grins at him and plops down in the chair next to him. “My sole job here is to pester you two lovebirds and ruin your wonderful vacation.”

Benny, ever the prankster, sneaks up behind Santiago and pours a glass of ice water from the bar over his head. Santiago practically squeals at the sensation and Benny launches off into a run. Santiago follows. “You little shit! Just because you’re a fighter doesn’t mean I’ll kick your ass, Benjamin!”

The two of them occupied and Will up at the bathroom, you sigh as you roll over onto your stomach. “Frankie baby, will you sunscreen my back?” you ask him, propping yourself up on your arms.

“Sure thing,” he nods, sitting up and grabbing the bottle from your beach bag. He gets up and squirts some in his palms before working it into your lower legs, then your upper thighs. When he reaches your ass, he takes a few liberties in squeezing it. “That’s not how you put on sunscreen, flyboy,” you tease and giggle at the motions.

“Just got carried away,” he chuckles and works at your lower back, then your shoulders and arms. “There. All good.”

“Thanks, baby,” you coo and kiss him softly when he sits back down. “You want some too?” He nods, flopping onto his back. You repeat what he did, standing and working on his legs.

The further you get up his thighs, you can hear his breath hitch slightly, the wet swim trunks sticking tight to a hardening crotch. “Frankie,” you coo, working your hands up beneath the fabric.

“Sorry,” he winces, willing himself to force the growing erection down. Naturally, it doesn’t work.

You giggle softly, working some sunscreen into his stomach. “Don’t be. Pull up that shade, baby,” you tell him, referring to the shade that can completely cover the cabana when pulled up.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles as you pull his swim trunks down just enough. “Guess I didn’t need that stupid pheromone sunscreen,” he murmurs hurriedly as the shade covers the both of you.

-

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: maybe a bad word or two? I forget, sorry

Summary: If it’s green, it’s healthy. Nobody tell Steve otherwise.

Word count: ~2k (oops my hand slipped)

A/N: This was supposed to be a very short drabble based on a conversation I had with @kentuckybarnes​ last night...and then I don’t know this happened. Anyways! This is a little gift for @nacho-bucky​ , who deserves all the extra whip; the story features her character Agent 41, as well as a brief appearance by @kentuckybarnes​ Agent 28! A “reader” character may or may not make an appearance ;) Enjoy!

He hasn’t said so out loud - not yet - but Steve is really proud of her. She’s been doing really great this time around. Really, really great. 

After last year’s health kick ended (sometime around the holidays, even the heroes stop caring), everyone’s diets slid back to a state of normal that was…somewhat shy of their (read: Steve’s) original goals. Sugary cereals and waffles dripping in syrup and butter; everyone having their own pint of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer; Sam and 41 insisting on an extensive comparison of all available delivery pizza, often side-by-side taste tests that led to multiple pizzas devoured each night. 

Steve gave them a warning this time, 4 weeks in advance. It would be hard to jump right in and change their habits on January 1, since they’d be up late partying the night before, and then of course there were the holiday leftovers, etc etc. So he’d give them some time to mentally prepare.

“Mark your calendars, guys,” he warned, eyebrows arched, Captain Six-Pack posed in the community kitchen. “We’re cleaning up this kitchen - starting February 1st.” 

A month of healthy eating - but he picked the shortest month, so he was going easy on them, right? 

Like before, he had worried a little about their agent with the biggest sweet tooth. Poor thing, 41 had nearly had a breakdown last time, and Steve thought she might hate him forever. It was probably a close call. But she made it through the first time around, and February is only 28 days anyway. Well, 29 this year. 

She took it like a champ. Met his announcement with quirked brows and an amused glance in Clint’s direction, but no more wailing and gnashing of teeth than the rest of the team. Bucky had watched them over his steaming mug of coffee, secret smile around his mouth. 

“You know,” 28 piped up from across the island. “It might be a good idea to cut back on caffeine, too. It is an addictive substance.”

Bucky’s eyes had twitched, big knuckles flexing as his hand tightened on the mug.

“Come back with a warrant,” he grumbled. 41 giggled behind her hand and patted his shoulder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

Fast forward a few weeks, just over halfway through this little challenge, and he has to admit that she’s really leaned into the healthy lifestyle. More so than last time; in fact, she’s the one in the kitchen, night after night, iPad poised with a healthy recipe from Pinterest. Everything she’s made has been damn good - he always goes back for seconds. And she’s the first to volunteer to go for grocery runs for the team, dashing off to Whole Foods and the farmer’s market, a triumphant return with a beaming smile and arms full of lush, colorful produce. 

Feeling accomplished, and not a little proud of his leadership skills, Steve decides they’ve earned a little treat. Just a little one. 

Modern coffee and Steve Rogers have struck a deal - he’ll pipe down about price margins and inflation, as long as they continue to deliver strong, kick-you-in-the-teeth flavor. He loves a mean cup of joe, bitingly bitter, with only the occasional splash of milk to soften the harsh taste in his mouth. Coffee was scarce during the war, desperate rationing pared down the drink to little more than brown water, drunk from a helmet while he crouched down next to Buck in a foxhole. He’ll dig a little further in his wallet for something stronger than that. 

He’s familiar with the Starbucks down the block from the tower, having stopped in several times after runs with Bucky and Sam; they haven’t been in a while - a part of his health initiative includes less eating out and more making their own food and drinks. But it’s just coffee. And coffee has plenty of health benefits - he was just reading an article this morning about studies on the preventative effects of caffeine in dementia patients. Not that his brain cells are likely to be affected, but still.

Coffee it is.

41’s eyes light up when they walk in the door, a chorus of “Hello!” and “Welcome to Starbucks!” greeting them from behind the bar. She can smell the syrup in the air, blenders whirring double chocolatey chip frappuccinos with extra mocha drizzle and - what did the menu say? A…caramel ribbon crunch? Yum.

Steve Rogers is a purist in terms of coffee. The concept of frappuccinos and white chocolate mochas makes him want to roll his eyes a little. But he doesn’t make the rules - and hey, the people who invented this are raking in profits, so it looks like they’ve got the right idea. 

Clint’s got his arms around 41 from behind, his chin propped on top of the beanie he knitted her, both of them swaying a little as they glance over the menu. Steve knows Clint is a coffee-addict, too - he’ll probably order straight espresso. 41 loves her lattes, the sweet-flavored ones of course, but she’s done so well cutting out sugar. He trusts her. She’ll be fine. 

It’s just the three of them, with a list of coffee orders to bring back for the team. The cafe doesn’t seem too busy, so he doesn’t feel like an asshole when he shuffles up to the register, pulling up the list on his phone. 

“Be with you in just a second, okay?” 

His head pops up and he notices her standing there, smiling over her shoulder as she preps a new batch of coffee to brew. He nods, a little smile - “sure” - and slides one hand in his pocket while she finishes. She’s efficient and fast, measuring the grounds into the basket, sliding the urn into place and pressing the right button. He notices the way her hair swings, twisted up into a big butterfly clip at the back of her head, the ends falling like a ponytail, longer strands hanging next to her face. 

And then she’s twisting back around and popping up at the register, a nose-scrunching smile and a “What can I get started for you today?”

Blink.

“Um, I’ve got a list-” He fumbles for his phone again. “Sorry, it’s quite a few drinks.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” she nods. Smile still curling up her cheeks - he can’t quite tell if she’s wearing makeup or if that glow is just natural. 

“O-okay,” he clears his throat, swipes at the notes app on his phone. “So first, a tall dry cappuccino with an extra shot-”

He gets through Sam, Bucky, Nat, Wanda, and 28’s orders, before sliding his phone back in his pocket, puffing a harsh breath past his lips. 

“What else can I get for ya?” The barista leans a hip against the counter, tilting her head, smiling eyes still watching him. There’s just something about that look - like she’s in on a joke and he’s still waiting for the punchline. 

“For me…uh,” he shrugs, falling back on a standby. “An Americano, with a little bit of milk and cinnamon, please.” 

That makes her smile deepen, and he would really love to be let in on the joke, but she just nods and repeats the drink, tapping the buttons on her screen. 

“Okay - anything else?” 

“Oh, and whatever they’re having.” 

Over his shoulder, he nods Clint and 41 forward, their hands linked as they slide up to the register. With a smile and a quick greeting, Clint goes for a triple shot, double cupped, one Stevia. Pretty standard - whenever he’s not sharing sweets with his sweetheart, Clint tends towards strong flavors. For Christmas, 41 bought him a bag of something called Death Wish coffee - he brewed it all within a week. 

When it’s her turn, 41 grins at the girl behind the counter, standard sweet and friendly. She leans close to the register and tilts her eyebrow as she orders. 

“I’ll have a spinach milkshake,” she hums. “Venti, please. Oh! With extra whip.” 

Spinach milkshake, huh? Steve’s ears prick up, a little bubble of pride floating up in his chest. He knew if she just gave it her best shot, she’d get used to it. 

The barista grins back at her, and Steve does not at all notice the dimple in her cheek. 

“You got it, girl,” she winks. 

Steve pays, leaving a generous tip in the jar by the register, as the girl flits away from the computer to help prep their drinks herself. She smiles and chats with 41 over the espresso machines, her hands wicked fast between steaming milk and pulling espresso, lining up the finished drinks in the little cardboard tray at the end of the bar. Under her apron, she’s wearing a pair of baggy overalls and for a moment a memory sweeps up in him - factory girls and borrowed boots and rolled up sleeves. A victory smile, that’s for sure. Standing next to Clint at the counter, he pretends not to watch. 

She’s got the trays loaded up, all except one, and turns around to the counter behind her, pouring cold milk and some kind of green powder into a blender. Must be 41’s drink - she’s busied herself at the counter writing everyone’s names on the tops of their cups, adorned with little hearts. Characteristically cute. 

The blender whirs loudly, and as she reaches for a cup and lid the barista meets his eyes over the machines. It startles him, that guilty thump in his ribs, like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. Her smile stays glued in place as she turns back to the blender, fetching the pitcher and neatly filling the cup with the creamy, green drink, before dropping the pitcher in the sink to rinse. She flips the metal canister in her hand, shaking it a few times, before swirling up a veritable mountain of whipped cream on top. 

Steve sighs one of his long-suffering sighs, his eyes flitting up to the ceiling before he catches the look of excitement on 41’s face, already peeling the wrapper from a straw as the pretty barista snaps the plastic lid over the cup. Well…what can some whipped cream really hurt? At least it’s a healthy drink…she called it a ‘spinach milkshake’ and he has no idea what the ingredients would be in that, but the bright green color has him sold on some marginal health benefits. She’s earned a little dollop of cream. 

“Here you go, babe,” the barista grins as she hands over the drink to an eager 41, who immediately scoops her finger under the dome lid and pops a little whipped cream into her mouth. 

“Mmmm,” she smiles, dreamy. “You did great.”

“Oh, thanks,” the girl laughs back, now wiping down her counters with a rag, cleaning up any of her milk and coffee spills. 

“Seriously,” 41 insists, between slurps through her straw. “You’re, like, my new favorite person.” 

“Hey, now,” Clint hip-checks her as he reaches around to grab the drink carriers. He offers the barista a smile. “Thanks, kid, it looks great.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she insists, sliding away her steaming pitchers and milk jugs. 

They’re turning to leave, all drinks accounted for, and the girl gives Steve one last smile as she turns to restock the cups next to the espresso machines. He sips his Americano - good, bold, perfect combination of milk and cinnamon. 

“Steve?” 41 is slurping at her…spinach thing, Clint holding the door open with his back, hands occupied with the drink trays. Steve licks his lips. 

“Excuse me, miss?” Starbucks employees have their names on their aprons, right? He remembers that being a thing.

She turns back, bright-eyed, expectant. 

“Yes, Captain?” The smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. “Anything else I can help you with?” 

He opens his mouth, starts to say yes, not surprised she recognized him but willing to hope-

His eyes slide down to the top of her apron, corners adorned with colorful, cute little pins, black name tag fixed to the top left corner. A neat cursive scroll spells the word ‘Fourteen’ in stark white chalk. 

Oh. 

His mouth shuts. 

41 gives an exuberant wave as she grabs his elbow and all but drags him out the door. The grip around his drink tightens when he almost stumbles over her behind him. 

“Thanks, see you next time!” 41 grins. 

Without breaking his gaze, the barista leans against the counter and winks, waving her fingers at them. 

Maybe he should give one of those spinach milkshakes a try. 

[stilessdylanobae-ddixonlove]

Surviving The Walking Dead - Truth (Chapter 20)

Author: @stilessdylanobae-ddixonlove

Characters: Daryl Dixon, Lydia, Magna, Negan, Beta, Alpha, Whisperer Terry, Whisperer Ben, Evan, Maggie Rhee, Ezekiel, Judith Grimes, RJ Grimes, Yumiko and Reader.

Summary: Y/n struggles with new and old feelings as her and Magna attempt to escape the Whisperers. Negan gives an epic apology and Daryl recovers from his wounds.

Note: All you who wanted to see more of Y/n and Negan, you’ll like this chapter. <3

Though the story line is greatly different and many changes have been made, a small amount of the dialogue in this chapter is the same as or is very similar to those that took place in AMC’s The Walking Dead Season 10 Episode 11. I do NOT take credit for those. 

Warning: Cursing, violence, sexual content, threatening dialogue, painful triggers/loss, vulgar remarks and quite a bit of fluff.

Chapter Twenty - Chapter Twenty-One

Lydia had just barely managed to pull Daryl from the old gas station and into the woods, as he was in and out of consciousness. They stumbled through the trees, where he finally collapsed underneath the trunk of a very large one. Luckily, it was out far enough from the recent danger. Lydia quickly tore off a piece of her blue and baggy long sleeve shirt and tied it around his bleeding thigh as tightly as her hands would allow. Daryl looked to her and only saw one thing; you. Things were blurry and the world was spinning, but he saw you none the less.

As he tried to keep his eyes open, he called out your name in his compromised mental state. “Y/n.” He mumbled, his voice fading as he finally lost control and let go of the world around him once again.

Everything went black.

Several hours later, Daryl woke in a panic. His head felt somewhat normal again after he recovered from all the blood loss.

Lydia put her hand on his chest to calm him and to force him to stay sitting. “Easy.” She said. He slowed his breathing and watched her tearing away anxiously at a pile of leaves in front of where she sat.

“How long have I been asleep?” Daryl questioned.

“Most of the day.”

He squinted his eyes at her in wonder, still feeling rather weak. “And you were just out here?” He asked.

“Yeah I left Alexandria, couldn’t stand it. I want to help. So I was watching you and then I was watching them. And then I was watching you and my mom.” She admitted, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

“Did you kill her?” Daryl asked, knowing Alpha wasn’t in the best shape either the last he saw of her.

“If it was your dad could you have?” She replied, her deep brown eyes quickly moving back and forth between his hooded blue ones.

______________________________

You had found it. The secret route the Whisperers would take in and out of the mine. It was well hidden, the entrance was small, very dark and behind a large boulder that took a lot of man power to move. You’d just traveled through it with them-still at the end of a rope, still their hostage. The outside world was blinding to your adjusting eyes. You were forced to sit in the dirt beside Magna as the two of you watched Beta pace uncomfortably in front of the caves. He was getting nervous.

“Somethings wrong. Alpha should’ve been here already and now he’s losing it.” You noted. Magna nodded in agreement while Negan leaned against a tree waiting and watching, unsure what the brute would want to do next without his leader to decide for him.

“Maybe you should go looking for her.” Negan suggested, trying to conjure up his own plan. Beta growled at him. “I mean, something obviously is keeping them.”

“Stop talking.” Beta enforced. Negan frowned. He hated how quiet these people were all the time. They didn’t talk or engage in each other at all. Truthfully, he was going a little crazy by the uncomfortable silence.

Magna watched the exchange, trying to prevent herself from wanting her fate to rest in Negan’s hands. She still couldn’t stand the guy but a part of her wondered if he’d be the cause of your escape and survival. “What’s he doing?” Magna leaned in and whispered in your ear.

“Fishing for a way to help us I imagine.” You responded. “He owes me.”

“I can’t believe he joined them. What do you think they’re up to? Are they gonna attack?” She wondered out loud.

“They’re gathering up the herd, so probably.” You both sighed, ultimately being distracted from your conversation by the sudden commotion of someone else’s. Beta was leaving.

“But, what about them?” One Skin asked, short in height and hiding behind his mask. He pointed to you and Magna.

“I don’t care!” Beta hollered, taking off with only a select few.

“I’ll watch them.” Negan offered. Beta shrugged it off as a few more of their people followed him back to the road. You rolled your eyes, unamused by whatever he had up his sleeve. He came and knelt down in front of you, smiling from ear to ear. “He may be big but he’s dumber than a god damn post.” He chuckled to himself.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, looking up to see the other less important Whisperers that stayed behind staring at the three of you endlessly. “You can’t help us. If they come back and we’re gone, they’ll know you can’t be trusted and our entire plan is ruined.” You said quietly. Magna instantly turned to you in question. She furrowed her brow and waited for more information.

“So what, you want me to let you die?” Negan said quietly but with more frustration in his voice.

“If that’s what it takes.” You answered while Magna shook her head intensely.

“Well that’s not gonna happen, obviously.” Negan scowled at you, noticing something was different. You didn’t have your usual spunk or determination. Your sparkling personality was immensely lacking.

“She doesn’t mean that. And what plan? Will someone tell me what’s happening?” Magna insisted. You shushed her, firmly placing your hand on her arm and lightly shaking your head. She huffed in response.

Negan stood and spun around, anxiously rubbing his hands together. “Well, everyone’s gotta piss at some point right? We’ll be right back.” He told his fake ally’s and grabbed the rope that was still attached to the both of you where your hands were tied. “Well come on then, we got shit to do.” Negan pulled forcefully. He brought you around the corner and further into the bushes to speak freely. The wind blew through your long y/h/c hair as you all came to an abrupt stop. “If you really do have to go, now’s the time.” Negan smiled as he tilted his head to further gawk at you. “Still wearing those pretty pink panties?” He teased. Magna’s eyes grew wide and you deadpanned him. Once again taking note of his infamous leather jacket he wore, much cleaner than the last time you’d saw him. Maybe the Whisperers had finally stopped testing him and let him in, it was a good sign. His hair was nicely pushed back and his smile was bright. He was handsome but he was still Negan. 

“I’m serious. They will kill you before you are able to kill her.” You insisted, letting Magna in on the plan since not having another choice. She let her mouth gape open in surprise and tried to hide it as she brought her tied hands up to scratch her nose, awkwardly.

“You really are a genius.” She put together. Negan winked.

“You can’t say anything to anyone.” You told her.

She huffed again. “Who the hell am I gonna tell when we’re clearly gonna die out here?”

Negan was trying to think on his toes, trying to ensure that wouldn’t happen. “Ladies, we don’t have long before someone comes checking in on us, so-”

“So, nothing. I told you they will kill you and this will have been for nothing.” You interrupted.

“Are you saying you care about what happens to me now? Or is this all still just part of your plan to save the folks back home?” Negan harassed. You locked eyes with him as he leaned in closer and watched your chest as it began to rise and fall heavily. He was making you more uncomfortable than the life threatening situation you were in. “Relax. I’ll be fine. And so will you.” Negan told you, placing his hand on yours and sliding his small pocket knife against your palm and within your grasp.

Magna watched closely. “Smooth.” She admitted. Negan kept his eyes on only you as you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his need to protect you.

“When the time is right.” He said, squeezing your hand and then letting go to take you back to the caves entrance. He shoved you back down where you sat before and tied your rope around a tree. Then he made his way back over to the group of Whisperers who were still awaiting the return of their leader.

“I get it now.” Magna said, blinking her eyes continuously at you. You turned to her, overly frustrated and confused. “He’s in love with you.” She pointed to where he stood with his arms crossed.

“What?” You hollered. “Negan doesn’t love anyone. He’s too in love with himself.” You grimaced.

Magna stared in disbelief. “Does Daryl know about this plan of yours?”

“No. I didn’t want anyone to know until it was done.” You admitted, looking to the ground with a heavy sigh. “Carol knows because she caught me leaving that night. And now you.” You told her honestly.

Magna readjusted herself, moving her legs out straight in front of her. You rested your hands in your lap, firmly gripping onto the knife Negan gave you. Your wrists were red and sore, as were hers. “What if Negan didn’t have that? Would you really just give up?” She asked you sincerely.

“I don’t know.” You admitted, letting a single tear fall and stain your dirt covered cheek.

“What about your baby?” She asked, concerned. You sniffled, took a big deep breath and thought a moment.

“You were right, I didn’t mean it. Okay?” You told her. She hesitantly nodded, thinking about her own heartache. Wondering whether she was still in a relationship or if she had anyone to go home to. She was sure you at least had that feeling in common.

_____________________________

About another hour had passed and it was all too quiet now, almost eerie as a heavy fog entered the forest. The sun was going down and it was quickly getting dark. Two men-Whisperers, who’d removed their masks stood guard now which was good because if Negan was the last to be watching you when you escaped he might be blamed. They looked you and Magna up and down for much too long, putting her on edge. She grunted and scowled at them.

“Ugh. Men are pigs.” She noted, disgusted. The taller one with messy long black hair bit his lip as he peered down your tank top. “Why don’t you just kill us already?” She asked, unable to take them staring anymore.

“Maybe we will.” The other man with a short graying beard told her. “Or we could have some fun first.” He grinned. Magna let out an exaggerated gag.

“Like Alpha says, we’re animals.” The black haired man agreed, laughing. Negan shook his head, wanting nothing more than to knock them both out.

“Hey, since when do any of you people talk so much?” He yelled at them. They chuckled.

“Since Alpha and Beta aren’t here to keep them in line. They’re weak, frightened men. That’s all.” You glared up at them while they instantly lost the smiles on their faces. “Don’t listen to them.” You turned to your friend.

Later that same, long night after many Whisperers had finally dozed off, Negan came and sat next to you. It was very dark and very cold. Magna rested her head back against a tree a little ways back and pretended to sleep as well. Your body was shivering uncontrollably now as you began putting Negan’s knife to use, planning to sneak away in the dead of the night. He stopped you though when he suddenly grabbed your hands and brought them to his mouth, blowing his warm breath onto them. You raised your eyebrows, a bit taken back by his kind gesture. You stared into his eyes while he continued to try and warm you. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” You said, slowly lowering your hands away from him and continuing to cut away at the rope.

“Not gonna say goodbye?” He asked, looking to your hands.

You shook your head, pulling away at the remaining rope and quietly handing the knife off to Magna. “You’re taking too long here.”

“I have to earn her trust. I’m not there yet, why can’t you just trust me?”

“Gee, I don’t know.” You hissed.

“Listen, Y/n. In all seriousness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re here. I’d much rather you be safe some place far from here.” He told you.

“I know.” You sighed.

“And I’m sorry about everything else. I’m sorry about, you know, them all those years ago.” He said, referring to all the friends and family you lost back at the Sanctuary. You swallowed nervously, never expecting to hear a sincere apology from him. “Being locked up all those years, I had a lot of time to think. And the truth is, I fucked up. A lot. But I was always honest and true to one thing.” He shared, searching your eyes for several minutes before awkwardly looking down to his hands, wringing them uncomfortably. “I promise you now, when this is all done...and I will get it done, that I am indebted to you. Whatever you want, need I’ll get it for you. And I will not harm anyone that means something to you. Ever.”

“I wish I could believe you.” You gulped.

“I’ve never lied to you.” He quickly replied, smiling at you. He could see it on your face. Your cheeks red, your eyes glossy and your expression stoic. You cared for him, it wasn’t just about using him to save the others. “There’s a shack of some sort a few miles north from here. An old cabin more like, if you need some place to stop and rest. No one here knows about it to my knowledge. You’ll be safe there.” He stood up and reached his hand down to help you up. You looked at him the way you hadn’t looked at him since the beginning. It warmed his troubled soul. “They are gunning for Hilltop. Warn them.” He whispered. 

You nodded. “I still have to see this thing through. If you are able to get away for a minute to update me, meet me there.” You asked just as Magna stood up, now fully free of her ropes as well. He agreed and turned to walk away. “Negan.” You stopped him. “Try to meet me there. So I know you’re okay after we leave here.” You gulped.

He grinned. “Will do, Princess.”

________________________

The following morning, you spotted the cabin deep in the woods that Negan spoke of. He told the truth. You slowly entered it, holding Negan’s pocket knife high in the air; it being your only weapon now. 

Magna pulled at some spider webs near the front door as she followed you inside. “What are we doing here?” She asked. “I was all for getting as far away from those freaks as possible. But shouldn’t we warn Hilltop?” She asked.

“Yeah. You have to.”

“What? What about you?” She bellowed.

You shook your head and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not ready to go back. I’m not sure I was before all this. Please go and warn them. You know where I am.”

“Y/n, Daryl thinks you’re dead.” She firmly pointed out.

You shrugged. “So tell him I’m not. By the time anyone comes looking for me again, it’ll all be over. I know it.” She sighed heavily and pulled you in for a hug.

Magna searched your worried eyes, her expression nearly matching yours. “I don’t like a lot of people. You are one of them, so please don’t be stupid.” She begged. You nodded with a smile and hugged her back.

“Go. Seriously.” You grinned and watched her leave on a new mission. Magna had become a friend and you didn’t want to lose that but you were more focused on this plan with Negan than ever.

_________________________

Back at the Whisperer camp, Negan woke to find Alpha had returned. Standing in one piece, staring down at him. 

“Shit.” Negan jumped. “You shouldn’t wake somebody standing over them like that.” He said, standing up. “Glad to see you’re alright, I was getting worried.” He grinned, flirtatiously. 

Alpha scowled at him, raising her right eyebrow and placing her hands behind her back. “Beta tells me we had some stragglers from the caves.” She began. Negan nodded. “Where are they now?” 

Negan played dumb. His acting was beyond brilliant. He spun to the tree where your severed ropes still laid on the forest floor. He pointed and then looked back in fake utter confusion. “Terry and his little sidekick were on guard last. Clearly, they did an excellent job of that, damn it. I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed up watching them.” He told her. She eyed him and sighed. 

“Fine. We are leaving for Hilltop soon, we will put an end to them there.” She told him. “Help gather the horde.” Negan nodded, secretly terrified she might still suspect him. But for now, he was safe. He still feared he might have to do something extreme to fully earn her trust back.  

“I’m ready for my skin suit. I am all in.” Negan told her. “So, let me be in.” He shrugged. 

Alpha smiled, gratefully. “Go with Beta. I have a meeting with Ben and Terry.” She smirked, preparing to punish them. Negan was more than okay with letting those perverts take the fall. 

By that afternoon, Negan had his mask. He roamed the area watching others collect loads of sap from the surrounding trees. He was bored and pretending to help gather more of the dead to join the herd that would surely take out Hilltop in just a few short hours. 

He swung his bat around proudly. “So uh, what’s with the sap? Some sort of fire starter?” He asked Beta who led the group collecting it. But he only grunted in response, always a man of few words. 

__________________________

Several hours had passed back at Hilltop. Daryl and Lydia had safely returned to rest and allow his leg to heal. They saw Alpha and Beta reunite on their journey home, not knowing they’d just missed you.That evening, he sat alone on a table outside near the line of occupied trailers. He was quietly brooding over his losses while the people slept soundly in their homes with their families. Most of them anyway. He stared into space, lost in thought as Maggie appeared from the shadows and approached him cautiously. She looked down at his wrapped leg. “I’m sorry about before. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She told him. 

He sighed as she grabbed his upper arm, squeezing it gently to comfort him. “We’ll have to talk about her, all of it eventually.” Daryl mumbled to her before they both fell distracted by figure running towards them. As he slowed his pace and stopped in front of them, they could now see it was Evan struggling to catch his breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked, frightened.

“Magna.” He said in between pants. Daryl instantly stood up. “She’s here.” He said, gesturing for them to follow. As the three of them came to the main house, there she was sitting on the steps next to Yumiko. But it was only her-you were no where in sight. Daryl’s heart pounded in his chest as he hesitated to go any farther. 

Her face was covered in blood and she instantly felt saddened by the sight of Daryl approaching. “We kept pushing. Searching.” She began, locking eyes with Yumiko. “And then we separated.” She added. “I had to blend in.” She explained how the blood on her face was not her own. “We both got out and were held hostage by the Whisperers. Negan’s with them now.” She let slip out, then hung her mouth open not wanting to say anymore. “They’re coming here. The horde wasn’t far behind me.”

“And Y/n?” Daryl asked with a harsh swallow. 

“She told me to come warn you, I don’t know. But she’s alive.” She replied. Daryl let his shoulders fall in relief.

“Get the others. We’ll evacuate the kids first.” Maggie ordered.

“They are too close for that. There’s no way we’d make it anywhere in time.” Magna shook.

“Then we fight.” Lydia appeared out of nowhere. Daryl looked to her and smiled. Both feeling a little better after hearing you were okay. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. “You two.” He pointed to Magna and Lydia. “Come with me.” They followed him inside rather quickly. “Wait here, please?” He asked before disappearing up the stairs. Daryl came back with Judith and RJ who’d been staying here the last few days with Aaron and his daughter while Michonne remained at Oceanside. People were panicking, running in and out looking for their loved ones. Daryl caught a glimpse of Ezekiel and called after him, then ran to meet him on the front porch. “I need you to take the three of them to Earl before we start this. Maggie has him watching the rest of the kids.” Ezekiel nodded. “If one of us doesn’t make it out of this fight-”

“Then the other will go find the kids.” The King agreed completely. Daryl patted him on the back in thanks and returned to the living area inside.

Daryl crouched down in front of little Judith. “Promise me something.” He said to her. “If Ezekiel comes to find you after the fight you go with him, again. You and your brother, okay?” Judith hesitantly nodded. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared.” She said firmly.

“Maybe I am, a little bit.” Daryl admitted honestly to everyone in the room. 

The young girl readjusted her sheriff’s hat and folded her arms tightly across her little chest. “But if I was, maybe I would be scared for RJ because he’s so little.” She sighed. 

“I get that.” Daryl replied.

“Maybe I’d be worried about my mom. Or I’d be afraid you’d get hurt and I’d lose you.” She looked to her feet. Daryl leaned in and hugged her tightly as she wiped away a few tears. Daryl rubbed her back gently, feeling torn between her and finding out more about you. He always thought he would never be brave enough to have kids of his own-especially not in this world. But even still, with a father like his and the way he was raised, he never felt like he was good enough. He always figured it would be kinder of him to not. He’d also watched Carol lose not one, but two and he witnessed Rick struggle to keep his safe time and time again before he died. He never felt he had it in him, watching after their kids was hard enough. But when he hugged little Judith just then, thinking about you-something about it instantly felt a little different. For family, for you-with you he would do just about anything. He finally let go and smiled at her, then pointed to Ezekiel. “Wait.” She said, reaching for his vest that sat on the arm of the couch next to Magna. “I made you something. It’s for luck.” She said, holding his iconic leather vest high in the air, showing off her latest art project. She had painted on his missing angel wing. It was different shades of blue and white and matched perfectly, looking better than it ever did.

Daryl smiled uncomfortably. “No way.” He brought his hand to his mouth with a smile. He felt happier than he had in days. “I love it.” He finally said, slipping it back on to wear for the battle, as she clearly intended. “How does it look?” He asked, spinning around to show it off. Judith finally giggled.

“It looks good.” She agreed. He smiled back and got closer, looking the small girl in the eyes. 

“Promise?” He asked her again. She nodded. “Give me another hug.” Daryl said as he brought her in close and looked up to Lydia next. 

“You too.” Daryl added as he stood up straight, tapping the teens forearm. 

She instantly frowned. “What? I saved your life yesterday!” Lydia cried, throwing her arms down to her sides. 

“And now I’m saving yours.” He said, pulling her in for a hug. He held her tight, needing to keep her safe from this as well. He knew it would be entirely too much. She let out a big regretful sigh in his ear before finally letting go and leaving with Judith, who took her little brothers hand. Daryl watched them disappear into the night with Ezekiel. He then remained a little dazed, staring long after they’d been gone.

“You aren’t leaving?” Magna asked. Daryl shook his head and limped his way over to sit next to her on the couch for a moment. 

“I can’t yet. I’m gonna fight. But before I do that I need you to tell me everything.” Daryl stated. “If Y/n stayed out there and she knows what’s coming, she might do something stupid. Something that gets her killed. Do you know where she is?” He pleaded. She ultimately nodded, trying to decide whether to tell Daryl the entire story. 

____________________________________

@jodiereedus22 @dashesoflipstick @theunofficialduke @dixonluvv@nikki082489 @jordangdelacruz​ @lunatheumbreon @dbtvluv​I @letsstarsfalling​ @escaping-reality-22 

Let me know if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters (:

Thanks for reading! 

I hope you are enjoying my version of this story. Sensing a love triangle yet??

Yes, I changed this into it’s own chapter instead of doing two parts like I was originally planning. I ended up going a different direction and I think it works better this way. 

Next time: A fiery battle at Hilltop, an unforgettable reunion and an intense moment between Y/n and Negan.

ANDDD let me know what you thought of this chapter here —–>

<<Chapter 19, >>Chapter 21

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Tuesday - Student Council Pt. 4

*Lafayette x Reader

*Summary: Reader sets up meetings so she can avoid interacting with Alexander and Jefferson. Burr overhears something he really should not have.

*Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of jealousy. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: So a lot is going on now. I hope everyone is staying safe and please practice preventative actions for you and everyone else. I might do a life update post just because I like spilling everything every once in a while.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Outfit

**********

Planning pep rallies was never fun. Sure, there were instances that could be fun, like actually seeing the pep rally in full swing, but most of the planning was very annoying, just getting the small details to work out. Normally you’d have the stress of Hamilton and Jefferson at each other’s throats added onto that, but for once they were actually behaving. And it was all because they wanted your vote. If you hadn’t made the circumstances clear, you knew that it’d be hell. They’d be trying to text you to undermine the other, send thinly veiled bribes, anything to butter you up to vote for them, but for once, they let you do your thing without bothering you.

You had a few meetings planned for the next few days, each one sure to keep you out of ASB for the period. You made sure you’d be unavailable to Jefferson and Alexander, lest they try to sway your decision during class. The next time you’d be in class, it would be time to vote. Yes, the budget vote was very important for the upcoming semester, but you had more pressing matters at hand. You brought Lafayette with you to these meetings, even though he wasn’t even in the events committee, which John made sure to point out when you told Lafayette it was time to go.

The first meeting of the day was with Vice Principal Adams to actually get the ideas for the pep rally approved. Vice Principal Adams had little actual control in the school, so where he did have power, he really took hold of that. Thus, Adams being an actual tyrant concerning pep rally ideas - or as he called it, ‘student affairs.’ 

“So, here’s the idea list. Right now we’re planning on making it fun, have a few games and a couple prizes for some students, with a few raffles throughout the pep rally,” you explained, handing Adams the official paperwork you’d put together with Eliza. Lafayette sat there, letting you do your thing as you pitched the rally. You’d made the idea list pretty long, knowing Adams would say no to at least half of them. You and Eliza had perfected the whole foot-in-the-door approach when it came to Adams, and you were making sure you’d get what you actually wanted from the introductory pep rally.

“And where are you planning on getting the funds for these prizes and the rentals required for some of the activities?” Adams questioned, flipping through the pages without actually reading any of it. Lafayette sat up straight, knowing the paperwork detailed exactly that. He shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head. You were used to Adams’ power plays. It was completely stupid that he was trying to establish dominance over kids he was somewhat in charge of, but you could tell it was the only way he could feel like he was actually in charge of something.

“If I could direct your attention to page four, my committee outlined our sources of funding, as well as where we plan on arranging for other things we don’t need to rent. We’re going to use the school’s sound system, utilize a student DJ - who will play a pre-approved set list and be compensated for the hour - and use decorations we already have or can make using items in the ASB room. We have funds allotted from the school’s fall semester budget, as well as some funds from last year’s fundraising efforts,” you explained as Adams flipped to the page in question. If you had to print that using your own paper, you were going to make sure he’d look at it.

“I thought Washington said you kids hadn’t done the vote for the fall budget yet?” Adams asked, looking up from the paperwork.

“We still have our tentative budgets. Everything is outlined in the paperwork.”

“I’ll look over this and send Washington the finalized list in the morning,” Adams told you. He placed the papers on his desk, next to his computer. You didn’t know if he’d keep to his word, but you’d be damned if your first pep rally was ruined by the likes of John Adams. “Now, get back to class. I have another meeting in a few minutes.”

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes until you were safely in the hall with Lafayette. “The fucker doesn’t even have a meeting, his secretary told me we were the only ones pencilled in,” you immediately complained. If anything, you probably had more meetings this week than Adams did in a year.

“Is he like that every time?” Lafayette asked, taking your hand is his as you walked to the next meeting of the day - the music room to speak with someone you knew was a pretty good DJ from the few house parties you’d been to. You figured you’d be in and out in about ten minutes, 

“Yup. Why do you think he hates Alexander so much?”

“I thought it was for obvious Alexander and authority reasons.”

“Well, yeah, but Alexander isn’t intimidated easily so that just gives Adams even more reason to hate him,” you explained. Lafayette made a little noise of understanding, following you lead down the halls. It only took a few minutes to get to the music room, and you immediately spotted your target. You turned to the teacher after you scanned the room. “Can I speak to Benjamin for a moment? I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Of course, just don’t take too long, (y/n),” the teacher agreed. Benjamin immediately went to you and Lafayette, eager for any excuse to get out of class. The three of you left the room, stopping a few feet down the hall.

“Hey (y/n), what’s up? What’d I do to piss off ASB?” Benjamin joked. You were in a few classes with Benjamin before, and the two of you were pretty cool with each other. Imagine your surprise when you saw him playing DJ and he wasn’t bad at all.

“I dunno dude, you tell me,” you jumped in. The two of you just looked at each other for a second before laughing. Lafayette seemed a bit confused, which was fair considering Benjamin was more of a class friend than an actual friend. “Nah, but really. We need a DJ for the intro pep rally-“

“Ew.”

“Hear me out. We wanna get more students involved so I wanted to know if you could DJ for the event. You’ll get the same get out of class free card as we do for the day, and you’ll get paid for it too,” you explained. You knew you needed to get this deal done fast or Benjamin would lose interest. You had a bit of an advantage since the two of you were friends, but you still needed his enthusiasm.

“We’re talking like actual money and not exposure, right?” Benjamin questioned.

“Actual money. We’d never insult you like that,” Lafayette jumped in. You looked over at him, but let it slide. You never made an agreement that you’d be the only one talking in these meetings, but it was kind of assumed. If anything, you would probably say something eerily similar.

“Alright, I’m in. Do I gotta bring my own equipment?”

“You have your own equipment?” You asked.

“Hell yeah. You think everyone just has the same sound stuff? You know what, I’ll bring it, but it’ll cost extra,” Benjamin tried bargaining.

“How much extra?” You had your expenses estimates down to the last cent, with only about $100 for a margin of error.

“Twenty-five for transport, and I’m gonna need someone to be here to help me unload.”

“Alright. You get a hundred for the hour, and that’s including your transport fee. We got a deal?” You put your hand out for him to shake. Benjamin looked between you and Lafayette before shaking your hand.

“Deal. And thanks for bringing this to me first,” Benjamin said.

“Alright, get back in there before your teacher complains to Washington,” you replied, immediately jumping back to the joking tone you took with Benjamin.

“Aw, no chance I get to stay out for the rest of the period?” Benjamin whined, walking back to his classroom door. 

“You get pretty much the whole day off in like a week, chill,” you laughed. Benjamin went back to his class, leaving you and Lafayette in the hallway with about fifteen minutes before the period ended. You turned to your boyfriend, who was still looking at the door Benjamin had just disappeared into. “Alright, we should probably go check back in with Washington.”

“Right, we should probably do that,” Lafayette said with a bit of a strained smile. You took his hand and led him in the direction of the ASB room. After a few moments of silence, Lafayette spoke again. “I didn’t know you knew Benjamin.”

“Oh, yeah. We had a few classes together so we’re kinda friends,” you explained. “I didn’t even know he did DJ stuff until we went to Jefferson’s party.”

“Alright. So the two of you never?”

“Babe, we’ve been dating since sophomore year and I met Ben the same year. I’ve never had anything beyond a classroom friendship with Ben, and I’ve never wanted something with him,” you reassured Laf. 

“That’s all I needed to know. And what about your little scheme?” He asked, turning attention back to more important matters than fleeting jealousy. 

“They haven’t caught on yet, and I’ll be fine until we actually have to vote on the budget.”

“Haven’t caught on to what?” You heard Aaron’s voice from behind you. You stopped dead in your tracks, Lafayette walking forward a bit before fully realizing you’d stopped. 

“Aaron, what’re you doing out of class?” You asked, turning to face this new problem. You shouldn’t have been talking so openly about your schemes, look at where it got you now. Aaron simply held up his water bottle in explanation before going back to the matter at hand.

“Now that we’ve established that, who are they and what haven’t they caught on to yet?” Aaron questioned. 

“Her parents, mon ami. Their anniversary is coming up and (y/n)’s been planning a surprise evening out,” Lafayette immediately jumped to your defense.

“And what does that have to do with the budget?” You had to hold in a groan. You hated the fact Aaron was so attentive to everything, especially if he could use it against someone later on. Aaron really wasn’t going to let this go, and you really needed him to.

“My parents know not to bother me when I have something important coming up in ASB. After the vote my parents are gonna start being a lot more involved in what I’m doing,” you lied. Lafayette really set up the perfect cover story for you and you weren’t going to throw away your chance. 

“Hm, I suppose that makes sense,” Aaron said, nodding slightly. You could tell he didn’t quite believe you, but was willing to let it slide for now. You knew this was bad, and if Aaron brought his suspicions to Jefferson and Madison, your entire plan was down the drain. Aaron took one last look at the both of you before walking past you and continuing to the ASB room. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Laf. 

“I’m dead. If they find out I’ve been withholding my decision until the vote, then neither of them are gonna be willing to work with me this year,” you immediately started rambling.

“First, we need to stop talking about this at school, obviously it’s no longer safe. Second, I told you this would happen.”

“Okay, right, we’ll talk about it at your place. And of course you were right,” you gave in. You took a second to compose yourself in the hall before having to face Aaron in class. If he saw you were a little shook up by your interaction in the hall, then he’d know he had something on you. “Alright, let’s get back to class. We need to tell Washington what’s going on.”

**********

Tag List: @snazzydoesthings, @bagpipes606, @a-hopeless-fan

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 115

Chapter Summary - Tom is at the Thor Ragnarok Premiere and Danielle is working, but they still get in a few minutes of talking.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

‘Come on.’ Danielle walked into the trailer she was using for the shoot, Mac joining her. When he looked around the kitchenette, she gave a knowing look. ‘We will be back home soon, don’t worry.’ Mac groaned. ‘And soon, we will be getting your little buddy.’ His ears perked up. ‘You two are going to have our heads wrecked, I can tell already. You will have to be nice, you need to teach him how to behave, like a big brother.’ Mac snorted. ‘Good boy.’

*

‘Hey, how was the premiere?’ Danielle smiled as she answered the phone.

‘Good, we are having a good time.’

‘Is James liking it?’ She asked with a smile, since Tom had brought his father to LA with him for the Ragnarok premiere.

‘.....Yes.’

‘Oh dear, what was the hesitation about?’ Danielle asked curiously.

‘Well, I cannot say too much, after all, the movie is not on general release yet.’

‘The blanket silence is officially over through, you cannot give plot, but minor details should be okay.’ Danielle reminded him.

‘That is true, actually.’ Tom conceded. ‘Well, Dad is less than please with one of my lines in the movie.’

‘Oh really? It can’t be that bad, it’s not 18 rated.’

‘I may, in the movie, say the word anus.’

There was a moment of silence. ‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘I say the word anus.’ There was more silence. ‘Elle, are you trying not to laugh?’ A moment later, there was the sound of someone blowing raspberries before fits of laughter. ‘Yeah.’

‘Sorry,’ It was clear from her voice she was not particularly so. ‘I bet he loved that. Why does Loki talk about an anus?’

‘He was not too happy with me asking someone for safe passage through the anus.’

‘Well, I mean, that is all anyone would surely want...when going through the anus.’ She forced out as she tried to prevent herself from giggling. ‘He is from a working-class family in Scotland, they curse as part of a sentence.’

‘I know but somehow talking about anuses, anus...what is the plural of anus?’

‘I don’t know “Double First” you’d have to tell me.’ Danielle laughed.

Tom laughed with her. ‘How are you two doing?’

‘We are good. Mac and I had a walk there not too long ago, we are on set now, organising a few things.’

‘How is it having him with you?’

‘Fine, great actually, I am hoping to have him trained so our other little guy will be able to follow his Big Brother’s lead.’

‘Any idea on what to call the “little guy”?’

‘Not really, I am so bad at naming animals, honestly, this is something I worry about if I ever have kids, what will I call them.’

‘Well, we will not concern ourselves with such things right now.’ Tom stated. ‘As for our new arrival, we can talk more when I get back.’

‘What are the plans for getting back, how many are you doing?’

‘Only a few things over here.’

‘No London premiere?’

‘Nope.’

‘Why not?’

‘I am busy.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes, we are getting the puppy this week and you and Mac will be coming back soon after. We are busy.’

‘Tom?’

‘I want my life back, my private life, but I need to warn you, Chris is adamant he is going to meet you when they stop over in London.’

‘I knew that would happen sooner or later, I am sort of nervous to meet him.’

‘Why?’ Tom frowned, hearing her genuine concern.

‘Because, like Ben, he is one of your closest friends, I want your close friends to like me.’

‘He will adore you.’ Tom swore. ‘They all know what you mean to me.’

‘I promise to be good.’ She joked.

‘Be you, I told everyone what you were like, even Dad was singing your praises.’

‘Oh, Jesus.’

‘Nothing too much, just that you were a better fit and it was about time.’

‘Sweet God, does he ever stop?’

‘I was told to tell you, and that that is what you get for not ceasing the whole “Dr Hiddleston” thing.’

‘Well now, that is is fighting talk.’ Danielle scoffed.

‘Oh dear.’ Tom laughed. ‘I am keeping out of this.’

‘Probably best.’ Danielle recommended.

‘I would have thought you would be getting indignant that I was not taking your side?’

‘What are you supposed to say against that, exactly. “Dad, how dare you say lovely things about my incredible girlfriend”?’

Tom laughed. ‘You are incredible.’

‘Damn right.’

‘I miss you.’

‘We miss you too.’

‘Why not come back a few days earlier, you are finished before then?’

‘Because you need to get the puppy his second set of vaccinations before he and Mac interact, otherwise Mac, who is vaccinated, can carry the diseases and pass them to puppy who is not immune and we end up forking out a fortune to a vet and could lose our little boy or at best, have him suffer horribly because of being irresponsible. Imagine him, weak and sick, hooked up to a drip, no, it is not worth it. When we said yes to this, we said yes to forced separation for a few days.’

‘That is fair enough, and it would not be right to put Mac in kennels for it.’

‘Well, that is a no on two fronts, one, it is just not fair and two, kennel cough vaccines, which you are getting for him, I left that note there for you, take longer to work, so again, if Mac came back with that, he again would suffer. Kennels mean added risks for a young puppy.’

‘If I stay in mum’s the night after getting him, can he come in contact with Poppy?’

‘Who is Poppy?’

‘Mum decided to name his sister Poppy.’

‘Yes, because they have been exposed to the same things together, they are fine.’

‘How do you remember all this?’

‘I worked reception for my dad a lot, I told you that already. Plus, you don’t really forget when he lost the rag with idiots causing their pups to suffer because they blatantly ignored his advice.’

‘I can well imagine.’

‘Yeah, so...I just want what’s best for our little boy.’

‘It’s weird.’

‘What is?’

‘Us talking like this, doing something so domestic and official, a living creature.’

‘Are you…. Do you not...?’ There was sadness and uncertainty in her tone.

‘No, Jesus, I want this, so much, I just…..I did not see this happening, not after last year, in fact, not in a few years leading up to this. I did not plan on finding you, us planning a life, us getting a pet and moving in and changing everything so drastically and I sometimes feel as though I got a huge whack to the head and I am going to wake up alone and I don’t want that. I love this, so much.’

‘You big romantic,’ Danielle smiled at the other end of the phone. ‘I love you, and I am incredibly glad that whatever happened to cause us to go into this occurred. I honestly did not see me with someone, I always felt too…..odd to be in a relationship, too focused on other things to do so and I am so glad you proved me wrong.’

Tom was about to say more when he realised that there was someone standing next to him, seeing it was his father and Luke, he smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you. Elle, I do not mean to cut off this very important conversation…’

‘Say hi to Luke and your dad for me.’

‘Do you have some sort of magic vision?’

‘I have Luke Radar.’ She laughed.

‘What?’ Tom looked at the phone before looking to Luke, who had heard what Danielle had said and looked somewhat perturbed.

‘Relax, your tone alters in his presence, so I can tell when he is nearby.’ She laughed.

‘I was getting worried for a second.’ Tom admitted.

‘I have people watching you, Hiddles.’ Danielle jested. ‘Though, I would imagine it is not hard to get a thousand pictures of you from eighty different angles right now because of the premiere.’

‘Only eighty?’

‘Well I mean, I am sure that there are people behind you on the carpet taking photos that are not supposed to be there too. Enjoy your evening and I will talk to you soon.’

‘Bye.’ Tom hung up the phone. ‘What is next?’

‘Post-premiere party.’ Luke informed him. ‘I see Danielle is up early?’

‘She has work today, so Mac is walked and they are on set. She sends her regards.’

‘Very good.’ Luke gave a small yet genuine smile. ‘She has you well figured out.’

‘She’s observant, you have to give her that.’ James acknowledged.

‘Yes.’ Tom smiled. ‘She says she’ll get you back for the “Dr Hiddleston” thing too, just a warning.’ His father chuckled. ‘You are incorrigible.’

‘I would have thought both of your parents having a bit of sport with her would be a good thing.’ James challenged.

‘It is, but I get worried.’

‘She is a nice girl, too nice for some fella like you.’

‘Goodness, thank you, Dad.’ Tom growled, he noted Luke looking down as he attempted to not be found to be laughing. ‘You are some friend.’

‘I am not going to apologise.’ Luke grinned. ‘Though it is true, you are very lucky both your parents adore Danielle so much, so many are not so lucky. Need I remind you of my family.’

Tom had to agree, Luke’s brother’s partner was met with open hostility by his parents until it became too much and the pair went their separate ways, much to their mutual heartache. ‘Yes.’

‘So, other than “Luke Radar” what is new with Danielle?’

‘Working hard and giving me my orders.’

‘For what?’

‘The puppy.’

Luke paused, ‘What puppy is this then?’

‘Danielle and I are getting a puppy.’

‘What about the other dog, the one you brought to my office?’

‘What about him, we will have two now.’

‘How are you going to juggle two dogs?’

‘Well, we juggle one as it is, adding a second is not overly hard, is it?’

‘An older one, no, but this is a puppy.’

‘They are not puppies for long, and with how Danielle trained Mac, we will have this little guy trained in no time too.’ Tom grinned.

‘You are getting very domestic.’ Luke noted.

‘Well, I am in my mid-thirties, surely that is a good thing.’

‘Because of course, you were so wild before.’ Luke rolled his eyes. ‘I really am unsure why I am even saying anything. Danielle is perfect as a partner for a client; not interested in publicity, works hard, intelligent and independent.’

‘Then why are you being like this?’ Tom asked.

‘Because as a friend, I am worried you love her and with time you could have a broken heart, and I don’t think you can brush this away like you did before, because I truly think you do love her wholeheartedly.’

‘Look, we had a rocky period, but we are doing really well and we are really happy. It won’t always be perfect, but we can work through it.’

‘This is the most mature I have ever seen you.’ Luke noted.

‘About time, right?’

‘You said it, not me.’ Luke laughed back. ‘Come on, we better get to this party.

[fuxkingmarvel]

Get that Gold

Request:  Can I request some Lance Tucker × reader smut where the reader is lance's protegé and things get heated between them while he trains her?

Summary: After an intense training session, Hope decides to stop by the gym to stir up trouble with you in regards to Lance, the tension in the room trickling down to you and Lance... until you get home, that is.

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angry Sex, Explicit Language

Hope and Ben walked out of the gym, Hope storming out much more dramatically than her counter, who somewhat apologetically sauntered off with Hope. The two then got in the car and drove off, the gym sitting in quiet, tense silence.

You sighed and kept your fists clenched, pulling away from Lance as you started to pace, noticing you had garnered the attention of your fellow gymnasts, who stared in silence.

Lance looked over and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ladies, there's nothing to see here. Go." Lance said, heading to the door and leading all the girls out, who spoke under their breaths as they left the building.

Lance sighed heavily and closed the door, shaking his head as he looked down, scoffing and heading into his office. He then looked at you and started to approach you and put his arms on your shoulders, but you quickly bit back and pulled away.

"Don't," you said, shaking your head. 

Lance furrowed his brows and looked at you, confused. 

"Babe, what's going--"

"I don't need your fucking pity and help when it comes to fighting Hope, I can stand my own ground," you said angrily, looking at him.

Lance raised an eyebrow and looked at you, his star athlete and girlfriend—his protegé.

"Pity? What the hell are you talking--"

"Oh please, Lance! Did you honestly think I was supposed to believe that--that act you gave Hope about me? Those lies?!" you said, grunting and pushing him away.

Lance grunted and stumbled back a bit, looking at you.

"Lies? They weren't fucking lies, they were the truth! Why would I lie to Hope about how I feel about you--"

"Because it's how you are Lance! You sleep with women because you like them and you want them! Not because you love them! What, did you think I wasn't gonna get warned when I first came here, Maggie told me everything, how you act!" you exclaimed angrily, looking at him.

Lance furrowed his brows and looked at Maggie and another gymnast, who stood by and glared at Lance, before Lance scoffed and turned around, shaking his head.

"You're all free to fucking leave," Lance said strictly, getting his things. Maggie bit her lip and quickly hurried to get her things, not even bothering to change as she quickly slipped on her sweatpants and sweater, along with her shoes, and looked at the other gymnast, who simply nodded and led her out.

You headed to your things to grab your stuff to follow Maggie but stopped when you heard a stern voice.

"Stop. You're leaving with me." Lance said, walking out to you and leading you out. You looked at him and rolled your eyes lightly.

"I'd rather not--"

"Shut up and let's go," he said strictly, opening the door as he expected you to walk out.

Your eyes widened a bit as he spoke to you.

He had never spoken to you with such sternness before.

But you tossed your bag over your shoulder and headed out to his car as he followed.

Lance popped open the trunk with his car keys and entered the car as you put your stuff in, closing the trunk once you were done putting your gym bag in, and you met Lance in the front seat.

Lance was already buckled up and ready to go. You buckled up without saying a word, as you were quite angry with him yourself, and as soon as you were done, Lance was off.

The ride was quiet and the air was tense. You avoided his eyes and kept them towards your side window as he drove through the city...however, the buildings were not buildings you were familiar with.

You furrowed your brows and squinted your eyes past the darkness and bright city lights to confirm this.

"This isn't the way to my apartment, where the hell are you taking me--"

"Mine. We're not finished talking." Lance simply said.

You scoffed and glared at him.

"Fuck you and your apartment, I want to go to mine, take me to--"

"Shut up Y/N, we're going to mine. I'm not done talking to you and I think by the tone of your voice, you aren't either." Lance said, looking at you.

You narrowed your eyes before rolling them and scoffing, sitting back in your seat.

You thought to yourself, knowing Lance wouldn't stop the car until he arrived at his building.

"This is the second fucking time he's told me to shut up..." you thought to yourself.

You sighed softly and shook your head, remaining quiet for the rest of the ride.

Once arrived at Lance's apartment, you were quick to get out on your own, not wanting anything to do with Lance at the moment, especially if that meant him opening the car door for you, a simple task you could do yourself.

Lance noticed you get out and rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly and muttering a few things under his breath as he headed over to you, walking ahead.

You stayed behind a bit, trying to make a point that you weren't going to head inside with him.

Lance turned around and saw you there, scoffing.

"Fine, you wanna stay outside, you can do so. But it's getting windy and it's pouring, and you probably won't get a taxi or an Uber home; not with this weather and not at this hour." Lance said, turning around and walking off to the elevator of his building.

You clenched your fists and turned to the street, staring at the street a bit as you noticed most of the Ubers and taxis were filled with people who wanted to avoid the nasty weather that was getting colder and the thunderstorm that would happen that night... the thunderstorm that'd already started.

You groaned and headed into the building with Lance, going in and catching the elevator right as it hit the lobby floor.

You entered with Lance, but kept your distance, and looked away.

"You're being petty--"

"Oh hell yeah, I am. And I think I have every right to considering what happened tonight. Why the hell wouldn't you let me swing at her Lance, still trying to defend her or something? She won't fucking stop, ya know! Are you sure she wasn't that great of a lay, because you really seemed to want to prove a point to her--"

"Don't you fucking speak for me, I know what I want and what I want is you. Why is that so fucking hard for you to believe, Y/N?!" Lance said, getting angry as you assumed his words and behaviors for him. You looked at him with wide eyes in disbelief.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You're Lance fucking Tucker, you could have whomever you want, Lance! Why would you choose me when you literally have other gymnasts waiting for you--" "Because I want you, damn it! I don't care about the other gymnasts, I only care about you! I'm not the same guy I was 13 years ago Y/N!" Lance yelled.

As the elevator landed, you quickly exited the elevator and headed to his room, blocking him out.

Lance groaned in frustration and followed you, opening the door and leading you inside.

You hesitated at first but walked in, tossing your bag down.

"You wanna talk, let's talk about. You wanna know why I don't believe you, Lance? It's like I said before! You could have anyone you want, Lance! Women chase you all the time! And nobody approves of us, do you know how difficult it Is to compete with that Lance!?" you exclaimed.

Lance sighed and shook his head lightly, approaching you.

"I don't look at those other women, Y/N! I don't want to and I don't have to. And people have started to accept our relationship, and if they don't, fuck them! Why do we need other people's approval to be happy?" Lance questioned. "I know you're angry about what I said about the sex, but I don't regret it because I meant it--"

"Lance, come on! You know what, I can't with this anymore!" you said, pushing him away.

Lance grunted and pulled you in, trying to prevent you from lashing out on him, but that only triggered it more.

"Let go of me, Lance!" you exclaimed, fighting against him.

Lance only pulled you in closer as you tried to fight against him, causing you to grunt and turn around in his arms and slap him hard as he refused to let you go, your hand connecting hard with his face. It was quick and sudden, and you hadn't really realized what you'd done until you did it, and you yourself were in shock about it. Lance grunted in the after-phase, his face red and stinging from the impact of your slap.

He looked over at you and lightly rubbed his cheek before, his eyes having looked a bit darker now--as if mixed with something mischievous.

He smirked and chuckled softly, lightly rubbing his chin and shaking his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk... you shouldn't have done that," Lance said, looking at you.

You blushed hard but remained serious, scoffing and rolling your eyes and you turned to leave the Post-Olympian standing, but as you started to walk away, Lance stopped you and pulled you into him, encapturing you in a heated kiss and gripping your shoulders, his large hands holding you in place.

You tried to fight back against him, you were angry at him... or at least, you were trying to be... it wasn't really working, and proof of that was evident as your resistance fell weak into submission, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in, deepening the kiss.

Lance grunted against the kiss and lifted you up off your feet, supporting you by gripping your thighs and holding you.

You pulled him in close and pressed your hips up against him, gently biting down on his bottom lip and tugging on it, moaning softly.

Lance groaned and looked at you, smirking.

"Where'd you learn that from?" he asked slyly.

You rolled your eyes and blushed, fighting a smile. "Shut up," you said.

Lance chuckled and smirked, leading you to his room and avoiding obstacles as he held you steady. 

Lance quickly closed the door behind him and pinned you against the wall, grunting and running his hands up your sides, kissing your neck hungrily.

He growled lowly in pleasure and sucked on your neck, causing you to moan an outcry of pleasure.

You gently pushed him away and removed your top, tossing it to the side.

Lance looked at your chest and smirked a sexual smile, his hands quickly undoing your bra to catch your breasts in his mouth, his large hands gripping them and kneading them as he sucked heavily on them.

You moaned out in pleasure and melted into putty as Lance continued the assault on your breasts, bracing the wall to keep yourself stable.

"Fuck, Lance--!" you moaned out, earning a chuckle and a groan of satisfaction from Lance as he pulled away and led you to the bed, dropping you on it before standing back and relinquishing himself of his clothes, his shirt coming off first as he tossed it to the side.

You bit your lip and moaned, gripping your breasts as you pleasured yourself in front of him, watching his body as it flexed and tensed with every subtle movement.

Lance stared at you and removed his pants...revealing a very sexual tattoo.

He had the gold, and it sure as hell wasn't a fucking medal, but God, was it big. Lance smirked as he presented himself, his hands falling in front of his tattoo proudly.

You bit your lip and crawled your way over to him, sitting up on your knees. "Seems I missed out on the real prize," you said sensually, running your nails up his chest.

Lance hissed in pleasure and tossed his head back before looking at you, gripping your waist and pulling you in before laying you down on the bed roughly.

"Not for long, doll," he said, smirking.

You smiled and blushed, laughing as you pulled him in and down with you, wrapping your still clothed legs around his hips. Lance made quick work to remove your pants, laying you down and making his way down your body as he left kisses down your chest and stomach, all to lead to your core, which was slicked with your wetness as heat started to gather down below the closer Lance got.

Lance fiddled with the hem of your panties, gently nipping the skin right above your navel... and right in between your thighs.

You clenched your bedsheets and whimpered in a mix of pleasure and sexual frustration as Lance continued to tease you.

"Damn it, Lance, just pull them down already!" you begged, your voice faltering as you felt a pinch on your clit and jerked your hips up with a whimper.

"Patience, doll. Or you'll never get what you want." Lance said, stroking your clit with his thumb.

He looked up at you and smirked, winking before he headed to your panties and pulled them down with his teeth, his lips gently grazing your wetness as he held your panties in his mouth and tossed them away.

He then kissed up your legs, admiring your body as he whispered compliments. "How could you think I'm lying about my love for you..." he said as he went up your legs.

You arched your back and gripped his bedsheets, feeling his tongue graze against your inner thigh before flicking the bundle of nerves at the tip of your core.

You moaned out loudly as the sensitivity erupted from inside you.

Your moans triggered something in Lance as he went in for the kill, delving his tongue in deep within you, eating you out as if you were his last meal.

His lips went up to your clit and he kissed it harshly.

His tongue moved up and down your folds with expertise and precision--he knew what his goal was.

"Oh fuck, Lance!" you moaned out, something out of a pornographic film leaving your lips as he finally gave you what you'd been wanting.

His tongue swirled around the folds of your sex while his nose nudged your clit.

His eyes watched up at you, clearly satisfied with what he was causing in you. 

Lance held you down roughly with his forearm as you squirmed beneath him.

Lance continued his assault on your pussy as his mouth ravishingly attacking your clit sent shockwaves through your body... you were coming close to cumming, and he'd barely been on you.

But God was he skilled!

The pressure built up in your body was so intense, your legs began to shake as you came close.

You whimpered in pleasure and clamped your thighs around his head, bucking your hips forward as you begged him to continue.

"Don't stop!" you begged.

You'd never wanted to cum more in your life. Lance smirked and spread your legs, holding them in place as he licked fast stripes up your wet cunt, eliciting loud moans out of you.

You arched your back high as you came to release, your eyes rolling back as you moaned out loudly, releasing your heavenly juices onto his face.

His dinner had been served.

He quickly lapped you up and groaned in pleasure, nibbling on your clit and sucking it heavily as you shook beneath him, continuing your release.

Lance discarded his boxers and sent his hand going down to his length, pumping himself as your body fell on the bed with a thud, your orgasm having been an intense one.

Angry Lance was a God-sent.

Lance headed up to kiss your eager lips, moving your hair out of your eyes as he captured your lips once more; you tasted your own sweetness covering his face and the feeling was intoxicating.

You breathed heavily and whimpered in pleasure as you took Lance in your own hands, pumping in yourself.

Lance grunted as he hovered over you, hissing in pleasure as profanities left his sinful lips.

Lance kissed you deeply, his hands finding your hips and gripping them before he pulled away for air.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked softly, kissing your neck gently. You looked at him and nodded, kissing him deeply with a kiss filled with passion and love and lust.

You wanted him... you needed him.

You blushed and ran your hands through his hair, tilting your head so he could have better access to you as he moved from your lips to your neck.

Lance kissed you down your collarbone and sucked on the skin there before you nodded, gasping in pleasure.

Before the night was over, you'd have love-bites all over, you were convinced. Lance smirked and kissed you deeply before aligning himself with your core, gently rubbing himself against you and moaning in pleasure against the kiss.

You tugged on his hair and ran your nails down his back as he teased you.

Lance then eased his way into you slowly, kissing you deeply to distract you from the pain he knew would come.

You kissed Lance back but dug your nails into his back as he went in slow, shutting your eyes tightly and trying to bare through the pain and pressure that was being applied to your lower half.

Lance groaned as he entered you, hissing.

"Fuck, you're tight!..." he grumbled, gasping before he pulled out again slow, trying to get you adjusted to his size.

Your walls tightening at the feeling of him, moaning as his slow thrusts began to feel pleasurable, and with that, you whispered sensually in his ear, gently nipping at it.

"Faster... please..." you begged.

Lance smirked and he began to pick up his pace, repeatedly slamming into you as he sped up.

His face was contorted into one of pure pleasure, his lips forming a perfect O shape as you clenched around him.

You gasped in pleasure and strew profanities out loudly, meeting his hips with your own as he thrust.

His gaze stayed fixed strongly on your features that were shocked at the feeling--intoxicated by the feeling of pure pleasure he was causing you.

The sounds coming from you were pure filth.

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, and the moans that filled the room was enough to wake the neighbors... but also make them think if they wanted to join in.

You then gripped his shoulders and moaned, flipping him over and sitting up on him, bouncing on him as he laid on the bed, his hands meeting your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Fuck, fuck!!" Lance grunted, his hair slicked with sweat as his 'gold medal' buried itself inside of you.

"Oh god, you're fucking amazing!!" you called out breathlessly.

“God, don't stop! I love your cock inside of me Lance!" you exasperated, tossing your head back as Lance met your hips with his own.

"Fucking shit baby, I fucking love you!" Lance grunted, picking up the pace as the slapping of skin against skin filled the room.

The bed shook and creaked, the headboard hitting against the wall, serving as Lance's motivation.

His tight grip on your hips was sure to bruise you tomorrow. "I'm gonna cum Lance, you’re gonna make me cum!” you shouted at him. This only encouraged him to pick up his movements and slam your g-spot with every thrust.

He growled as he lifted you off of him and practically slammed you on the bed, your legs over his shoulders as he lent down towards you meeting your lips. The position had you a moaning, cursing mess which Lance gladly took advantage of.

His grunts filled your ears as he was coming closer to his own release.

Lance growled, hitting your g-spot, which sent you down a tumbling spiral that you didn't think could get any more pleasurable... until Lance rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck!!” he growled into your neck. His hips were getting lazier, his thrusts more sloppy. You whimpered.

"I want to ride you, Lance, please let me cum on your cock!" you begged, your sinful words leaving your lips like music. He groaned in pleasure and sat back, letting you work your magic on him as you continued to ride him, grinding against him.

You pinned his arms up above his head and met his lips with a sloppy, sinful kiss, moaning as you clenched around him.

"I'm cumming!" you moaned out, the air taken out of your lungs as your climax took over like waves crashing over the rocks.

You cried out a pornographic moan as your legs shook around him and your walls clenched down on his length, squeezing him into his orgasm.

He continued to sloppily snap thrusts into you dragging out your orgasms, your name leaving his lips like a prayer. "Oh fuck, Y/N!!" he moaned out, as his thrusts came to a halting stop as he came to his climax.

Lance groaned in ecstasy as he came into the rubber wrapped around him, gripping the sheets as you rode him, your hands on his chest as you came, for the second time, in sync with him, moaning out loudly in pleasure as you arched your back, grinding back and forth as Lance gripped your hips.

You bit your lip and dug your nails into Lance's chest, continuing to ride him as you came down from your high, breathing heavily as you fell over him, your chest falling over his as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

Lance breathed heavily and held you, sighing in pleasure and content as sweat slicked your body and his, the room smelling of sex.

You were sure Lance would get a complaint from the neighbors; you were quite the moaner.

After some time on Lance, you weakly climbed off of Lance and moaned out softly as you left him, the absence of him inside you making quite the difference. You cuddled into him, your core still extremely sensitive as you tangled your legs with his and rested your head on his chest, Lance's left arm finding its way around you and pulling you in close.

The room was quiet for a bit, the only thing being heard by the other being rampant heartbeats and heavy breathing. You blushed and traced random shapes on Lance's chest, laying with him, until he spoke up with a small chuckle, lifting his right arm behind his head.

You blushed harder, lifting your head a bit to look at him.

"What?" you questioned softly, biting the inside of your cheek.

Lance looked over and smiled cheekily at you, chuckling once again.

"You were amazing, doll." he simply said. You blushed hard and put your head down, burying it in his chest as he simply laughed lightly and kissed your head. 

You settled into him and kissed his chest, Lance running his hand through your hair.

"You're not mad at me anymore?" Lance questioned, looking into your eyes with his deep ones.

You blushed and straddled his lap, resting your head on his chest.

"No, Lance Tucker... No, I am not mad at you anymore... I love you." You said. Lance smiled and pulled you in, kissing you deeply.

"And I love you... Believe it," he said, earning another smile from you and another deep kiss, the two of you resting the after the passionate, angry sex session.

[roxannepolice]

But yah rey as a character is just so frustrating you know? Cause like, yeah sure she could be complex with a powerful arc where shes forced to come to terms with the fact she wasted years of her life on self-imposed delusions in a cathartic way, or she could be a flat piece of marketing cardboard which Disney is banking on vagina+superpowers=profit without having to go through that persnicty character flaw overcoming or the like. Because like you said, hearing shes a nobody (which ngl, her assuming she was a somebody wasn’t really ever supported in tfa, just that her family was coming back and she desperately wanted them to) is apparently the worst thing but it changes absolutely nothing, not her approach, not her demeanor , if vaguely sad is the absolute worse a character is gonna experience in a goddamn space opera then yeah, full offense ill take the l on Mary sue discourse but her character will definitely be a boring ass wash. We all make fun of whiny new hope Luke but him being a kinda nuisance to both the audience and those around him is what made is transformation into full blown Jedi knight so powerful. With Rey so far what weve got is badass perfect cinnamon roll finally get her due as such, which is clearly working for some people, but I fail to see how that isn’t spectacularly tone deaf to make a protag in this genre such. Operas about drama, not patting you on the back. Rey (assuming she remains as is) would’ve been fine as a protag s the only piece of Star Wars media we ever got was a new hope. But rn she a chosen one architype (and I know that bunch of ppl are gonna go but the series ‘but shes not the chosen one, Anakin still is, the new series isn’t trying to make her one!’ but lets not beat around the burning bush, if u got a character that walks on water and the reason why is because god said so, ur dealing with a chosen one trope and if a character is star wars is made ultrapowerful in lore breaking ways because force said so? Yeah were dealing with a chosen one.) when we had both the deconstruction and the reconstruction done. Shes a straight hero when the success of the ot rest on hitting the formula near perfect the first time. What exactly is Rey, the individual character, bringing to the table? What makes her story supposedly so important the a perfectly good ending had to be made invalid to tell it? A bunch of ppl will say heroines’ journey! But if that’s the case I gotta say, wheres all the feminine shit? Im serious, if the heroines journey is reintegrating the feminine and realizing ‘oh shit mom had a point’ there where is both the feminine skills/coping mechanism and the mom? I mean I saw some ppl arguing for leia in a ‘reys Persephone!’ meta (she isn’t, you can make a much better case for ben himself as Persephone to be quite frank, yall are focusing so much on the trees ((girl gets abducted by guy)) that u forgot the forest existed, the actually story ((girl winds up queen on the underworld, well gee whiz which character just took control of that after leaving the world of living and a grieving divine mother behind, it’s a mystery apparently) behind, it’s a mystery apparently) ((but seriously though even if we hope for dark rey does anyone assume its gonna be taking control of a dark/dead coded org at least partially at this point, do you, do you really??). but given the fact she had what, one line of screen dialogue that’s breaking ur arm with that stretch. As far as skills go I guess you could make an argument for scavenging, but if that’s the case dlf did a shit job of conveying that as female-coded. Everything about rey in tfa seems deliberately androgynous, and yeah, she had her hair let down/mascara moment, but that’s tied to her ‘failure’ on the supremacy thus something nw.SPEAKIGN OF FAILURES ON THE SUPERAMCY AND LACK THERE OF. I find it kind funny that bunch of reylo bnfs (you know who they are) are all ‘hur dur fanboys/antis are dumb and don’t get story structure.’ And then going, ‘why are yall asking how/assuming rey fucked up in throne room/climax of her story in the second portion/darkest point of her character arc? Why do you hate women/ur own ovaries so much?’ because it like walking into a prefurnished house and being told by the relator ‘HERES THE LIVING ROOM’ and having no damn couch. It’s a living room, I expect a couch here. And in a movie where it’s the low point of a character arc and they drag puppet yoda out to tell me the movie is about failure, I expect a damn failure in whats clearly the climax of the characters arc for this movie. As it stands now there are three possibilities imo. 1st, rey had no failure, she is the pure badass maid o light ppl want and every inch the boring cardboard she is accused of by fanbros, remains static, and is relegated to an also ran to benlo taking the most compelling character trophy this trilogy in 10 yrs2nd possibility and the one im hoping for, failure speech wasn’t just thematic explanation but also foreshadowing, rey fucks up big and dramatic in a way that makes her manage to stand out as unique with both her contemporaries and her predecessors(last part, if its ever to much lemme know pls im sorry i just gotta get it out) 3rd and most likely possibility, rey isn’t the main character, benlo is and that’s why his failure both moral in the throne room and logistic on criat take center stage for the last third or so of the movie. Rey is merely a pov character to tell the dramatic villain protag story they wanted and have their very marketable unproblematic Disney heroine cake too.

Ok, so this discourse kinda died down by now, but thanks to that it’s possible to maybe have a calmer look at it I’m totally not trying to justify my late response.

Anyway, the good result is that quite recently my brother, who’s not overly taken with Rey - or the sequels in general, for that matter - said something which really stuck with me as a possible crux of the problem: 

She’s neither comical nor tragical. Just bland. 

This neither comical nor tragical really struck me. And the more I though about it, the more it was appearing to me that this qualm really applies to the sequels as a whole. The thing is that DLF are essentially telling a straightforward story that they’re trying to make captivatingly convoluted. And not just make, but keep this appearance over four years. And this is... a narrative teeth crasher. Like, when you’re honest about the endgame (in the context of the most structural meanings of comedy and tragedy), you can maintain a decorum, though you can also play with it, of course, whereas when you don’t want to be honest about the endgame, you end up mixing the styles somewhat messily. You can’t break or discuss with the rules without acknowledging them, so to speak. Because the originals were honest about the happy/hopeful endgame (the first episode is title A New Hope ffs), they could allow themselves deeply tragic moments like Larses’ deaths, Han getting frozen, destruction of Alderaan, etc. Because the prequels were open about being a tragedy, they could allow themselves lighthearted comic relief for the sake of lighthearted comic relief. 

The sequels... badly want us to consider the possibility of FO winning and Ben dying unredeemed while simultaneously insisting we root for those things not happening, while appearing conscious we’re definitely not buying the former and the latter only somewhat. And it’s tiresome. Dishonest. And indeed, bland. If the story is a tragedy it will be a bloodcurdlingly real one, if it’s a comedy it will be a borderline grotesque one. 

But yeah, returning to Rey, I guess as the main character she’s a lens which focuses the above problems. A very bitter tragedy of what her parents did t her prevents her from being comfortably comical whereas whoohooos I like thats and prancing like a husky on red bull over idols and visions because it’s for children so it must be hopeful prevents her from being intriguingly tragical. So I guess the intentioned effect was tragicomism but, from pov of an engaged casual fan that is my bro, it’s neither. 

As far as Rey’s heroine’s journey lacking some of the usual elements, I blame it on Disney being... a bit too ambitious, maybe. I think they tried to make a heroine’s journey that isn’t ostentaciously seeped in traditional feminine/masculine traits, maintains the structure without what could be called accidentals. On the one hand, I would point out that hero’s journey has pretty much desexualised itself over time, we are rather accustomed to “shero’s” journeys, but on the other... maybe Disney set out on a too novel a territory and may crack their teeth on it, alongside trying to out-Vader Vader at redemption. To elucidate, “toxic femininity” in which a heroine is supposed to find herself in the beginning of her journey, in Rey’s case is uprooted from any of our usual concepts of feminine-masculine social roles (it’s space, duh). My interpretation is that Rey’s version of toxic femininity kind of exists in contrast with Kylo Ben’s version of toxic masculinity - and since the apparent focus of the story is the attitude towards the past/parent figures, toxic femininity would mean her clutching onto the past. Which is why I predict that some act of IX will find Rey inebriated with apparent success in masculine world, meaning she’ll be the one rejecting the old gods this time - and I would point out that panel in Poe comic where she shows herself more sceptical towards idolisation of past don’t mind me, I’m just expressingmy trash dreams for a proper sith lady Rey.

Then again, Rian Johnson said she already found perfect balance between Luke’s clinginess and Kylo’s rejection of the past, so... idk, maybe I’m giving DLF too much credit again.

As for the Persephone thing, I guess the rub is that this reylo reading focuses less on the traditional reading of the myth (where Demeter is the actual main character and Kore is a Princess Peach MacGuffin) and more of an interpretation of it as one of the eldest (at least in Europe) versions of story depicting a transition of a girl into a woman, making Persephone more of a protagonist. 

Like, y’know, this Persephone (D. G. Rosetti, source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proserpine_(Rossetti_painting))

I’m no expert, but myths can lose their original meanings because of power relations (anyone still remember about Dionysus, the god associated with excessive drinking, going through a very Christ-like death and resurrection?) and I think it’s possible that this is the case with the story of Persephone becoming a pre-scientific explanation of seasons changing over the year. So teah, that’s how I always understood the Persephone theme regarding Rey.

But yes, I must agree that I’m confused about Disney’s handling of the mother figure, which... Look, SW became a legend of a modern myth because of how epically Lucas handled the hero dealing with his very explicit father. So yes, I don’t understand what exactly is their game with Rey Nobody from Nowhere in this regard. It’s one thing that they had a cool idea with giving her no lineage, another that parent figures are an essential element of archetypal journeys and from symbolic viewpoint the case of a female character the biological relationship is even more crucial than in male’s. And I swear to all the ewoks and porgs in the galaxy, I do hope Disney’s idea of Rey healing the mother/daughter divide isn’t through her healing the divide between Leia and Ben. Again, this isn’t the idealistic sphere. Just... no. 

Anyway, I still maintain hope (this whole meta blog is built on hope) that Rey will indeed turn out to have a proper personal mistake which will make her stand out in the saga. I do have to admit, though, that I find your last theory very likely. I mean, even when I read all the reylo metas going oh, Rey is going to have such an exciting arc in IX, she has so much to deal with though of course it’s not going to compromise her morally, it will be sooo exciting, I just... f*ck’s sake, what you’re describing isn’t a dramatic character only a dramatised role model. It’s great if that’s your thing, but don’t claim it is space opera-worthy, in operas people drown themselves because of cursed sailors, kill over a break up, decapitate over a bad dream and get dragged to hell over a dinner, not persuade their fallen lovers to change their ways, let alone patienly wait for them the understand the error of their ways (and if they do it’s doomed to end in someone dying).

[silentauroriamthereal]

This seems like fun! Thanks for the tag, @swissmissing! 

1. AO3 handle: SilentAuror

2. Ships I write: Johnlock. Oh, and maybe a touch of Freebatch. In the past I wrote a crapton of Harry/Draco and a few other scattered ships hither and thither, but these days it’s pretty much pure Johnlock over here. 

3. Ships I read: I don’t read much fanfic, but if I do, it’s definitely Johnlock! 

4. When I started writing: I don’t remember my first piece of fiction ever, but it was definitely sometime in childhood! My first fanfic was posted in 2002, I believe! 

5. First fic I wrote: In this fandom? Resurrection. 

6. Favorite fic I wrote: I really can’t say! 

7. Hardest fic I wrote: Again, I really can’t say. Different stories have been hard for different reasons. Against the Rest of the World comes to mind, just for sheer length and complexity & detail of plot, but Scars was very different to write for the emotional and physical abuse it contains. Some of the angst-heavy stories I’ve written have practically given me ulcers. Sometimes I make the cases so complicated that I have to keep a whole separate file just on case notes (witness The Bells of King’s College, which features not just six cold cases, but they all had to be related to: a) the murderer (obviously), b) each other, and c) a potential seventh victim, and d) Mary!). Bridging the Ravine features something like 21 named OCs, about 8 of whom have fairly major parts. And The Final Proof was hard as hell to write because it made me cry throughout, lol. Along with basically 98% of the people who have read it, which was sort of the point, but there you go. :P (See warnings!!!!!) 

8. Most research-intensive fic I wrote: That has to be a toss-up between Against the Rest of the World for the location research specifically, and Scars, for which I did extensive research (including interviewing three separate therapists who specialize in female->male abuse and gaslighting). 

9. Fic that is most dear to me: This is like asking me to pick a favourite among my children! Of which I now have 84 in this fandom alone! Really can’t say! 

10. Favourite trope to write: I mostly avoid actively writing tropes, though I’ve unapologetically used fake-couple-for-a-case twice now (once where it goes quite well for them (Bridging the Ravine) and once where it goes quite badly for them (The Bells of King’s College)), and smaller tropes like sexual coaching (Isosceles), bed-sharing (numerous), and then apparently I’ve used some accidentally, such as amnesia (The Wisteria Tree). Lol. 

11. Something I wouldn’t write: An unhappy or non-Johnlock ending, a version of Mary that doesn’t line up with her actual canon behaviour, fluffy familial sitcom that’s wholly out of character (which isn’t to say that parentlock can’t be IC, but it’s a stretch to make it fit with these two particular men, IMO). 

12. Favourite scene I ever wrote: I’ve just written too many to choose only one. :/ Sorry, I keep saying this! 

13. Where I get my inspiration: From Moftiss’ resolute determination to prevent these two from having an honest, direct, and complete conversation about their relationship, their history, and their feelings. I WILL make them talk, damn it! And then kiss. Like a lot. :) 

14. Hardest scene I ever wrote: There’s a rape scene in chapter 3 of Scars. I avoided writing it for days. Then, once I finished it, I remember literally just closing my laptop, standing up, putting on my shoes, and walking out of my apartment to clear my head. 

15. Favourite characterisation I wrote: Oooh. Okay, I’m giving this one to Sherlock in Against the Rest of the World, specifically because it’s told in first person, which means that I spent four solid months living inside this version of his head, and I found it very difficult to not be in it once the story came to its eventual finish!

In this fandom, I’ve now written in the POVs of 12 different characters (not counting the “characters” of Ben and Martin in my four Freebatch fics), and I’ve loved writing every single one of them, even if I don’t necessarily love the character themselves! The breakdown goes like this, though for the last two, it’s only single chapters/parts of stories, never a full stand-alone story: Sherlock (36 times, including both novels), John (37 times), Mycroft (3 times), Lestrade (3 times), Mary (3 times), Molly (twice), Rose (Rosie at age 19, once), Janine (once), Ella (once), Vee (Mummy) Holmes (once), Mrs Hudson (once), and Sally Donovan (once). 

My current project is one of my rare mixed-POV stories, heavily John-POV, but with contribution scenes from Sherlock, Ella, and Molly. 

16. Sequel I would write, if I had the chance: I’m actually somewhat planning, pending my muses’ inspiration and general whims, a sequel to Isosceles, where Sherlock and John visit Corey Graham in LA. :)

17. Story I want to write, but I don’t think people would enjoy reading: It’s so masochistic, but I never let that stop me! :P I did suppress my urge to write my first Freebatch fic (The A.G.R.A Complex) for about eight months before finally giving in. I fully expected to be shot for writing Scars, and I’m somewhat expecting people to hate my current project, but if the muses demand it, then I write it. What can you do. :P

18. A line from a WIP: I never do lines. It’ll have to be a snippet, lol. Not to channel Culverton Smith or anything... 

Ella thinks of the long story Sherlock told her one stormy afternoon only a few weeks ago, during one of the appointments she cannot, by dint of professional vow, acknowledge to John that are happening, and of the fact that Sherlock admitted that he’s never yet found a way to casually bring up the snipers in conversation with John, his hesitancy to rock the boat, the surface stability they’ve seemingly found in the wake of the events with Sherlock’s unbalanced sister. She sighs inwardly, but keeps her expression neutral. “You’re still angry about that,” she says. It isn’t a question; after all, she knows John rather well by this point.

John frowns, but nods, still looking down.

“And how has that anger come out?” Ella asks, conscious to keep her tone even. 

John’s mouth opens, his breath drawing in sharply and stopping in his chest.

19. A recent comment on a story that made me smile: That someone commented at all makes me smile! Unless it’s overt hate, I guess. :P 

20. A discontinued work I would love to finish: I have never, in my 2.1+ million words of Sherlock fiction, or 1.5 words of HP fiction, not finished a story that I started. 

21. Fic writers I admire: Honestly, for these last two, I just don’t read enough to be able to comment well on this! I also know that if I list anyone, I’ll leave out someone who really, really should be mentioned. I’ll just say this: anyone who is actively working at the craft of writing and putting themselves out there deserves all the praise and admiration in the world. Same goes for artists! You’re putting a naked little piece of your soul out there for the world to see, criticize, hopefully (but not necessarily) love, and that is SO brave! So the truest answer here is: all of you! 

22. A story I recommend: Same answer as above! I would recommend @swissmissficrecs for recs! 

Tagging: anyone who reads this post and writes. You’re tagged. :)