#first I didn't because I was worried it would give my identity away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cy-cyborg · 1 month

Text

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

210 notes · View notes

mellifluouaamor · 2 months

Text

TANJIROU KAMADO ⍣ FEMALE READER

synopsis. tanjirou thinks you're like a flower.

you're just like a wisteria flower, TANJIROU would always think to himself. beautiful and elegant, kind yet resilient - and your beauty was akin to that of a blooming flower. there's an air of tranquility around you whenever you're on the battlefield, the smile you'd wear soothing your frazzled teammates and reassuring them that everything will be okay.

tanjirou never regretted meeting you that day - the day he saved you from being devoured. you were the only survivor of the squad that was sent to the inn infested by a formidable demon, and he clearly remembered witnessing you struggle to live as you fought with a breath style that he had never seen before: the breath of ayatori style. it appeared to branch off from the breath of love style as it heavily involved agility and flexibility, and the blade of your nichirin sword was also identical to the love pillar's. watching you fight was like watching a dancer perform, and he had never been so mesmerised by graceful movements meant to kill.

after his first meeting with you, the two of you grew closer to each other, and slowly but surely, stronger feelings blossomed in your hearts.

when the sun rose from the horizon, marking the break of dawn, tanjirou was prompted to pick up his pace and ended up jogging the rest of the way to the butterfly estate. he had received worrying news of you returning from a mission severely injured just as he completed his, and he wanted to check up on you as soon as possible.

as he approached the familiar gates of the butterfly estate, he spotted a particular flower growing amongst yellow daffodils. its striking purple colour reminded him of you, causing him to stop in his tracks. would you like this? he could bring it as a small gift since he didn't think of bringing anything for you until this moment.

without another second to waste, tanjirou knelt down and plucked the sweet violet.

❀

tanjirou spotted you lying on your side on the veranda. you were fast asleep, eyelids drawn shut and lips slightly parted as soft breaths slipped past them. traversing the garden, he soon came to a stop in front of your resting form before reaching out to brush away the stray strands of hair covering your face.

he hesitated to wake you up because of how peaceful you looked. although he could have just left the violet for you to wake up to, he wanted to give it to you in person, all so he could see your expression light up like the sky at dawn. tanjirou released a long, drawn-out sigh and then lowered himself on his knees, eyes never leaving you. he subconsciously moved his free hand to cup your face, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek.

as if on cue, you drifted out of your slumber, your eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. a slight frown etched itself onto your countenance when you tried to figure out who was in front of you.

"tanjirou...?" you mumbled, recognising his scarlet hair, "what are you doing here?" stifling a yawn, you carefully propped yourself up on your elbow, kneading one eye with a fist.

"why are you sleeping out here?" he asked, chuckling, "the mornings are still cold."

"i was stargazing last night... i guess i accidentally fell asleep," you replied, scratching your lower cheek sheepishly. you then gave tanjirou your signature smile and added, "welcome back by the way! you must be tired from your mission."

he beamed. "thank you! but i'm probably not as tired as you. you should sleep on a proper bed since you're still healing from your injuries..." his gaze swept over the bandages on your body as his red hues flashed with concern. "how are you feeling?"

"some parts of my body are sore, but i'm generally feeling okay. kochou-san said i should avoid strenuous work for now," you said, shifting your body to sit properly.

suddenly remembering the flower in his grasp, tanjirou presented you with the sweet violet he had intended to give you, making your eyes widen.

"it's for you!" he chirped, "i found a flower that reminded me of you on my way here. i... think it suits you."

your cheeks heated up at his remark. with a shy "thank you", you happily accepted the flower and inhaled its sweet scent. "it smells nice... and it's so pretty."

"just like you," tanjirou blurted out before covering his mouth upon realising what he just said.

instead of getting embarrassed, you surprised him by leaning over to kiss his cheek, eliciting a blush from him.

"you're so cute~" you cooed, giggling.

tanjirou let out a huff. before your brain could register what was happening, you found yourself being carried like a princess in his strong arms. you immediately clung to his shoulders with a squeal, afraid that he might drop you (even though you knew that he wouldn't) as he strode away.

"h-hey! put me down!" you exclaimed, kicking your legs.

feeling a bit bold, tanjirou leaned towards your face and lightly bumped your nose with his, smiling. your breath hitched in your throat; that little gesture was effective in silencing you as he brought you inside the infirmary and tucked you in bed.

truly, you're a flower he wants to protect with his life.

#loveletters—!#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #scenario #female reader

197 notes · View notes

nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma · 1 month

Text

HOTD stans: "Ugh those TB fans whining over every change and insisting HOTD is biased against them. Don't they think that maybe the writers made changes just so the story would be more interesting, not because Otto Hightower placed a gun to their head? Don't they see how much more interesting and complex the characters are now than in their fictional history book?"

also HOTD stans: "The Greens are just so much more interesting though. Sorry Rhaenyra, on principle I do support female succession. But you, Jakey boy and the rest of the pot plants just can't compete with Alicent and her poor tortured fucked up kids. They are THE dysfunctional family they are just so much more interesting-"

Wait... you mean ignoring half the cast didn't make them more interesting? Could it possibly be that bias isn't just a case of which side is portrayed as sympathetic, but which side is given attention?

Nah, of course not. I mean, a script direction stating that Jacaerys had already gone through an offscreen identity crisis over his parentage years ago and had come to terms with it? I thought that was so much more interesting than actually depicting it. I'm glad they got rid of Jace being bullied and focused on Aemond instead - it really made Jace a much more interesting character. Exploring the internalised shame of being a bastard, or what it's like to be constantly targeted and bullied by a kingsguard knight whose obsessed with destroying your mother, just isn't as interesting as Aemond being sad he doesn't have a dragon, or Aegon's daddy issues.

Giving Baela and Rhaena no screentime or dialogue? Genius. I'm so much more intrigued now. When they established Rhaena's yearning for a dragon I was worried we were going to see more of her, but to my upmost relief we spent her mother's funeral following Aemond instead. And the writers appropriately only used Rhaena to keep Aemond sympathetic, by having her be the one to initiate the fight instead of him hitting a toddler - once she was done serving Aemond's character we really didn't need anything further from her.

That one-off line about Daemon ignoring Rhaena was sufficient really, no need to explore that relationship any further. Just as there was no need to explore Baela's relationship with Jace, or the girls relationship with their stepmother. Let's go back to how Aegon is so sad that he has to rape women, or Helaena's bug collection. Let's throw sympathy on Vaemond while the female heirs to Driftmark stand silently in the background. Let's fart around in a Green-centric episode with a 100% stake-free race to find Aegon first. Let's throw in a scene of Larys masturbating over the Queen's feet, because the more powerless she is the more we can see Olivia Cooke's beautiful brown eyes weeping. The Blacks certainly don't need their own episode to breathe.

Sure, I did feel bad for book Rhaenyra when she was ordered away to effective exile on Dragonstone by her own father after the fight at Driftmark. And when her father almost called her home again to be his Hand, but then prioritised placating his wife and chose Otto instead. That sure SOUNDS like a compelling father-daughter conflict on paper. Perhaps we COULD have seen the tragic tale of a daughter whose father keeps failing to fight for her and unwittingly sabotages her, as his peacekeeping 'neutrality' effectively chooses his wife over her time and time again.

But I don't know, there was just something about Rhaenyra voluntarily bouncing because 'the wise sailor steers to avoid the storm' that felt much more intriguing than being forced away by her own father. Rhaenyra staying away for years was much more intriguing than her father passing her over as Hand. It really made the moment where Viserys drags his corpse out of bed to defend her stand out, you know? And it let us keep the focus on how Alicent is sad that her husband doesn't appreciate her, because the more victimised interesting Alicent is, the more interesting everyone is!

Daemon bashing his wife's head in with a rock also really made him more grey as a character.

As did Rhaenys slaughtering the smallfolk and championing the Geneva Convention the very next episode. That writing decision definitely had nothing to do with shock value. I mean, when asked why she didn't just end the war there and then we got solid Watsonian explanations such as 'it wasn't my war to start' or 'she wouldn't do that to another mother' (women, right?). That's how you know that creatively it made sense, because they wanted it to happen. Where was she keeping that change of armour?

Who needs Laena matchmaking to secure Driftmark and the Iron Throne for her daughters when she can spend her time wishing for self-immolation? Who needs Laena trying to fly one last time, desperate for that last taste of freedom before she dies, when she can instead kill herself via self-immolation?

Laenor faking his death via the murder of an innocent bystander and leaving the charred remains of the body to traumatise his parents and children (whose biological father has just died in a fire)? That needs no further exploration, I'm sure that didn't psychologically scar Jace and Luke any more than Laena's self-immolation affected her daughters. All that matters is we didn't bury our gays, isn't that great? This way Laenor didn't get assassinated, just his character!

I mean, we could have had Laenor's death be a tragic mystery, with unconfirmed rumours that Daemon had a hand in it. We could have placed the audience in Rhaenyra's point of view, we could have watched her grapple with the doubt, struggle over whether it's a possibility she can live with. We could have had the moment she gets passed over as Hand be the moment she decides to marry Daemon, like in the book. That could have said something interesting about her character and their relationship. But on second thoughts, "we'll fake Laenor's death and then we can be the ultimate power couple and RULE THE WORLD" was much more sophisticated.

Oh, and de-aging Aegon the Younger? Just look at the emotional range on that baby.

The casting for Addam and Alyn too... Honestly, not just their casting, I think overall the decision to cast characters aged 13-15 with grown adults is really going to underscore the tragedy of their stolen childhoods. It worked for Game of Thrones!

Nettles? Don't we have enough black women in the background?

#hotd critical #team black #pro team black #house of the dragon #pro rhaenyra targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #laena velaryon #valyrianscrolls #laenor velaryon

109 notes · View notes

day-drawn-blog · 8 months

Text

Part II : Slow burn ❤️‍🔥

Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

I feel your breath on my neck, the soft caress as cold as death

Your blood like wine, I want it in, oh darling make me drink and make me feel

- I want to live

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- Set in Act I

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V : Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I'm not to blame

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours

Part VIII: your blood like wine invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

---------

Next day, you woke up early and you remembered the rollercoaster your heart had been through. And your little secret. Ah, you almost forgot. So caught up were you in your pining you ignored the safety of those around you, and the resolve you had made last night to help and protect those around you. And right now, nothing posed more of a threat than a blood sucking vampire posing as an ally. You did not quite trust him yet. After all, you did not know him well at all.

You left your tent, resolved to confront him.

To settle this issue as best as you can on behalf of those innocent of his real identity. You spotted him next to his tent. His messy curls, even more disheveled in the morning. But his countenance brighter than yesterday. You wondered if it was the effect of the favor you did him. Somehow a part of you felt happy, that you made a difference to him.

You broached the subject.

"Can we talk?" He looked up surprised. "About your... condition. I was curious how we were going to feed you from now on."

His eyes widened.

I guess he did not realize you would confront him about this first thing in the morning. But it has to be done, sooner the better. Before everyone else wakes up. "How... how are you?" He managed, flustered. At least he has it in him to be polite and ask, you thought. You approved of his shallow charm. Now to the point.

"I am alright. But I am worried." "You have my word. I will never put any of us in harm's way. And if I ever do, I will ask, first" he flashed his cheeky grin. You almost gave in. And then suddenly, rustling behind him, startled you both.

Shadowheart walked out of his tent.

You were completely blindsided, Astarion was more embarassed and looked away.

Shadowheart was surprisingly, normal. "Good morning. Are you guys planning breakfast? I heard talks about a meal, or something... " she drawled in her usual charming manner.

"Ah yeah.. something like that.."

you managed to say, and decided to drop it. Before your heart shattered into pieces again, you decided, you walk away.

You wished you could leave them at camp.

So you didn't have to be distracted by those two as you navigated such dangerous lands. But, you all always travelled together and at least there will be other people, to distract you, from Shadowheart and Astarion's intimate moments together, where he held out his hands, to help her on a step. Or she cast her guidance and radiance to protect him, or where he took out a threat with his sneak attack before they ambushed her.

You felt weaker in combat that day.

Several times, Karlach had to protect you. You almost got knocked down, and she had to help you up. Thankfully Wyll had your back too. You felt terrible how much you let this matter get to you. Back at camp, exhausted, and down to your last breath, you decided to put him out of your head once and for all. You needed to wash up, and rest.

This was not serving you.

As you sat in your tent that night, going over the events of the day. You felt tears come up. You wanted to be the one being protected. Looked after..by him. To be important enough.

To be valued and loved, by him.

Dammit. Why should you put him on a pedestal like this. Better start thinking really hard how you could avoid that from happening again. This was your only way. Should you ask them to stay behind at camp the next day? No ..you need every ally you can get fighting for your life.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. You were confused, you thought everyone had gone to bed early that night, tired from all the ambush you had faced that day. So who was it? And why were they coming inside your tent?The tent flaps parted, and you saw a familiar tall silhouette.

You stopped breathing in surprise.

You both stared at each other for a few moments before he broke silence. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, the hour is late. Terribly, and truly" and it seemed like he was second guessing himself and walking back out again. Then he stopped and turned around "You see, this was my first.. I had never drank from a ...thinking creature before. Cazador... my master, would only ever let me feed on rats. "

Where was he going with this?

"Would you be so kind, as to grant me this favor one more time? I completely understand if you don't want to, and this is, well very embarrassing for me to admit" You could see his ears turn red as he shiftily looked anywhere but at you. "But ever since last night, I have not been able to forget... how you tasted". "I could do anything for one more time...please?" And he looked at you with his eyes full of endless misery, that familiar pleading voice and gaze...

You were weak against that but you were annoyed.

Who does he think he is. Does he think himself so charming that he can just waltz into your tent, demanding you donate your blood for free while he went back to Shadowheart right after? You did want to be the hero to those that needed you, but this is just taking advantage of you. You liked him a little less at that point. You were fully resolved to turn him down. After all, this felt wrong, not just to you, but to Shadowheart as well.

You got up.

"I am afraid, Astarion, I will have to turn you down tonight. Isn't Shadowheart waiting for you? What will she think of your absence?"

"She doesn't know. No one does. And I would like to not tell everyone, as long as I can, if you help me. You are the only one, who knows. And if everyone were to find out, I am afraid they would not show me the kindness you did. I would be cast aside. And left to fend for myself."

For all the outward intimacy between him and Shadowheart, you realized, they were not after all, close at heart. What did you expect. Did you expect him to be someone that would allow himself to fall in love with someone or genuinely love and care for someone other than himself? Your first impression of him, was right. The suave and snooth bad boy, with a thousand charms was after all, just that.

You sighed.

Battling with your moral dilemma. You wanted to cave, and earn his trust even more, and maybe a bit of affection. But was that really the right way to go about it. To exploit his weakness? You couldn't. You needed to save everyone. Even the ones that were too proud to admit they needed saving. You sighed again.

"Astarion, I would like to help you. However I cannot, be your only source of.. sustenance. This will affect me in battle. And I thought we agreed you would feed on our enemies, since they are as good as dead, as you said."

If he was disappointed he did not let it show.

"But of course. I only just wanted a little bit. You wouldn't even feel it. I promise. It will be a gift, that I will never forget" He looked at you with his intense gaze that sometimes betrayed the storm raging inside him you suspected. "I understand..." His countenance fell. He was pained. "Have a good sleep. I'll see you around in the morning" And he turned to leave.

"Wait"

Dammit. You cannot turn him down. Or anyone. When they genuinely seem to need your help. But did Astarion really need you? Or was he being greedy? Were you being deceived? Probably. Behind the facade of one who seeks your help is someone simply using you. You felt that. And yet, you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

"Yes, you can...again, tonight. Only a little bit"

"Really? You would?" Genuine surprise in his voice. He quickly stepped in and drew the tent flaps shut. He took your hand and suddenly took the lead. Taking you to the back, gestured to you to sit. You sat down, he knelt in front of you, lifted your arm like last time, with both his hands, gave it a kiss, and looked at you one more time, as if to ask for your permission one last time, and when you nodded, proceeded to bear his fangs at which you looked away.

It didn't hurt, nor did it last longer than a few minutes. Afterwards he drew away, and sat down next to you, as if sated to his utmost. A grin across his face like last time. you looked at your wrist, and the two little dots where his fangs had pierced your skin. The ones from last night were fading. Tonight's red. He looked at you looking at your wrist. "Does it hurt?" He seemed...guilty.

"Let me wrap it"

He proceeded to tear a bit of linen from somewhere nearby and tie it around the bite marks. Hiding your doing, I see. This is no act of kindness. You felt your resolve melt. You felt glad to have been of use to him. But also sad, he was about to leave. And go back to shadowheart. You had served your role. He had used you, and no longer needed you.

Thank you ...you whispered to him

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #astarion angst #emo

163 notes · View notes

treeofnonsense · 10 months

Text

So I'm going to preface this by saying: I am cis as all hell. I'm not any form of trans or nonbinary, I have never been any form of trans or nonbinary, and thus I tend to stay pretty quiet on that front over here. Ain't my place to tell people who know better what to do, and I'm not trying to do that here. However, after having made a lot of friends under the trans umbrella, after being lucky enough to have some of those friends share with me some of their struggles, their joys, their lives, and after noticing a couple of patterns in their journeys... I think there is one message I would like to share that may help some of you to hear, if you'll give me a minute of your time, and I think it may have to come specifically from a cis person.

The message is this: If your cisgender friends are good friends, you being your true self is not a burden to them.

For the people in the back: If your cisgender friends are good friends. You being your true self with gender. Is not a burden to them.

I didn't know my friend in high school was trans until he transitioned socially and I heard his new name. He didn't tell me first because I was raised fundamentalist Christian and probably did not look like a safe person to tell; when I pulled him aside in class so no one else could hear us, told him he could tell me to buzz off if he was uncomfortable, and politely asked for confirmation on pronouns, I remember the surprise and joy on his face. It took me about five minutes of chanting his new name and pronouns in the shower to get it to stick in my brain. That tiny amount of effort was nothing compared to seeing him pull himself out of the depressive funk dysphoria had put him in, of celebrating senior year when he legally changed his name, of drawing him a snowflake dragon for Christmas and hiding the trans flag colors in the shimmer of the ice so it would get past our conservative school's radar. We became closer friends after he came out because I knew him better and he knew he could trust me. He got me my first ace ring. I was not only supporting him, but learning from him, and sharing in his joy.

The genderfluid roommate in college took me a little longer to adapt to, I'll be honest, I was still learning, but hey - it turns out it's not really that hard to check the pronoun pins on a lanyard before you address someone. It's pennies when that person comes along to teach you the wonders of thrift shopping and takes you to meet a drag queen for the first time. I've met so many people online whose identities I do not always intuitively understand, but who I support anyway, and who have made me consider so many new things. It's not a burden to know about my friends' journey when it comes to gender, it's a privilege to know them more deeply and be trusted in that way. It's a new dimension to this person I already love, that's all.

Look, I am not saying that all your cis friends are going to be perfect, that we're not going to fuck up occasionally because we don't know better or we had a bad day, that we understand everything - we're not, we will, and we don't. I am not saying that everyone is a safe person to talk to either - god knows that's not true, unfortunately. But. If your worry about expressing yourself is of being a nuisance, of burdening someone with your problems or needs, of being too much or too out-there or too confusing, consider this: Your friends may not only be willing to learn and help you, they may be happy to. In a true friendship, both people benefit from one person's joy. If you're happy because you're able to be your honest self, they'll be happy too. Suddenly that weird shyness and sadness they saw from you but didn't know the cause of has gone away. Heck, maybe they'll learn from you and start following in your genderfunky footsteps. Or maybe you'll just have a cis friend who texts you celebration emojis when you have a good gender day, or is there when you wake up from surgery, or goes shopping for new outfits with you, or even brings over ice cream when you're having a hard time. And then you both get ice cream. Come on. This is what friends do.

Be safe, of course. Trust your judgment when it comes to sharing information. But if you're simply scared, try to balance out the fear of what you may lose with the thought of what you may also stand to gain. Don't let the anxiety beast turn your identity into a problem. It's not a burden, it's a part of you, and the people who love you will love to meet it.

#transgender #nonbinary #genderfluid #i hope these are the right tags like i said i don't go here much #i simply thought people could use a bit of positivity based off my own experiences #because this myth of being a burden is something i've seen a few times now but not true. not with people who love you

255 notes · View notes

seonghwa10ve · 2 months

Text

Protector of my life|01

Pairing: ceo!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

Theme: fluff , angst ,eventual smut, strangers to co-workers to???.

Synopsis: You saved a man when he was almost assassinated by two men but you save his life. What happens when you join an academy only for female bodyguards.

A/n: Finally started writing it and I hope you guys will love it and don't worry I'll be updating the rest soon anyways... enjoy 🥰💞

It was beautiful

The sky was so blue without clouds and the sun has never shun so bright in the morning making the view in the city with large buildings so breath-taking.

The cafe was rich with the aroma of coffee beans and the sound of the customers either ordering or talking to their loved ones was peaceful.

When you were younger, you always imagined having the best career and so many journeys you could dream of. But as some people say life is a bitch and that's how you ended up here trying to look for a suitable job but all of them were already taken.

Being the only child throughout your childhood was lonely but you got to understand yourself and even got a best friend , Yeji.

Yeji always had a cheerful personality till now and was always a supportive friend.

That's why you two became roommates. She came from a very wealthy family which is hard to believe that she actually made you her best friend. Yeji has been a humble human being since you two bonded. You didn't even know she came from a rich family until she brought you to her house when you two were in highschool.

When you came out of the cafe to head back to your apartment, You were lost in thought until you saw a man. He he was tall,had nice beautiful silky hair and was built because his jacket looked like it wanted to give up on him

You looked at his side profile while you were behind him but couldn't really see him properly. When you looked at his face again, you noticed a dot on his head not just any dot, a red dot.

When you looked at the direction the light was coming from you saw a guy with a cape and he wore a mask trying to hide his identity in the black car he was in and he was trying to aim the gun at the man in front of you. You did what any smart person would do and ran to him .

You pushed the man in the black suit which ended up with him falling down on the pavement with you on top of him how cliché

And that's when you heard the trigger and people on the street scattered while some stood in shock.

When you opened your eyes you first looked around for the shooter and he was nowhere to be seen. Then you looked at the man in front of you who you saved and oh gosh

He was absolutely gorgeous

He looked like he came straight out of a movie . He had a mole under his bottom lip with one piercing on his eyebrow and the other on his lip. His eyes were so memorizing .

When you you cleared your throat and stood up trying to find something to say or ask.

"A-are you alright sir?" You asked while trying to help him get up and he stood up dusting his suit that you're very sure costs more than your phone. "Yeah I'm fine don't worry. Thank you for saving me " he smiled at you with his cute bunny teeth that were pearly white.

"No need to thank me sir I was just saving someone's life" you said while you noticed a bruise on your arm and winced as you touched it. "I guess I should be the one asking you if you're alright" he lightly chuckled and look at you as if you two were not just strangers who met not even three minutes ago. "I'll be fine it's just a bruise. I'll clean it up when I get home."

"I should repay you for saving me." He insisted and you brushed it off saying that anyone could have done the same thing to him but he was stubborn and refund until you gave in. "Fine, okay you can just not today." You agreed and he smiled while walking away and he stopped his tracks and turned to look at you "I didn't catch your name by the way" he looked at you , hoping you would answer and luckily you did " I'm Y/n " you replied and he repeated it just to remember it . "I'm Jungkook, nice to meet you." He smiled at you "Nice to meet you too, Jungkook."

"So how did your day go?" Yeji asked while bringing the popcorn for the movie you two were about to watch." It was alright just saved a random guy in a suit" you explained while stuffing the popcorn in your mouth.

"Was he cute?" Yeji asked forgetting about the movie you were supposed to watch.

"I guess, I just feel guilty because you have to pay more for most of the bills that I was supposed to pay for." You told her while she looked at you a smiled "Hey Y/n, don't feel bad I actually saw a flyer a few days ago it was for a job asking for a bodyguard." You looked at her and she looked at you with sympathy in her eyes .

"Wouldn't that be for males or something?" you asked her while trying to process the information you were being told."No it's all genders plus they get paid at a very high amount. Why don't you try." She looked at you with convincing eyes and you wanted to protest but you though of the salary plus you took training way back when you lived with your parents.

"Okay .....I'm going tomorrow did you take a photo of it?" " Yeah I'll send it to you."

You woke up early , took a shower got dressed up and ate some breakfast before you went to the company .

The company wasn't far from the apartment so it didn't make anything better because you were nervous. What if the CEO was an old creep or something.

When you reach you were stunned by the huge building in front of you.

The sun only blinding your eyes due to the glass that the building had plus the big name of the company on top.

JEON CO

'Damn.....they surely get paid a lot here' you thought while entering the building. The lobby was even more beautiful than the outside of the building and you went to the receptionist and told her you came for the interview. She checked the system and you read her name tag Park Chaeyoung. She was so gorgeous and tall no doubt she would be a model. "Lim Y/n?" She asked "Yes that's me " "Okay, the interview is on the 20th floor and I wish you all the best" she bowed at you and you did the same before you left.

When you had your interview you were nervous and you hoped that this was the only chance you to avoid life biting you in the ass . "We'll tell you about our decision when we're done have a good day" The man who you found out was Mr. Kim Seokjin said and you left the building hoping for the best.

You went home, thinking about whether you would get the job or not while Yeji kept on encouraging you not to overthink and that everything would be fine.

After a week or two passed, You got a notification congratulating you that you got the job and man did you scream your ass out of happiness .

"Are you alright what happened did a thief try to attack you?!" Yeji came in full panic mode until she saw no one and was confused. "No I got the job!!!" You yelled out of excitement and she screamed while running to hug you. "Congrats bestie, see I told you everything would work out" she said while she was still hugging you.

You read the message out to her while you forgot to read one part and your smile turned into a frown. "What's wrong?" Yeji asked and you were trying to find the right words to tell her "I-i'm going to have to leave for two months and live with the rest of the other females." You said failing to look at her in the eyes or else you would cry ."Maybe I should just turn it do-" "Don't I'll be alright Y/n okay?" "I guess you're right" you said lowering your head trying to fight back tears

"Welcome ladies, today you're just going to arranged your luggage and mingle with your fellow co-workers but before that , I would all like you to meet the CEO of JEON CO."

People were all wondering who he was and everyone was thinking about all the things he would do to us .

"Sorry for delaying, Oh, hello everyone my name is Jeon Jungkook and I'm the CEO of JEON CO I hope you ladies will feel comfortable and please feel at ease." He bowed and smile at everyone while you looked at him wide eyed and he tried to hide that he was shocked too but he failed and you looked away.

No way the man you saved is your boss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

A/n : I finally managed to write the first part but I'm wondering if I should have a tag list if so please tell me . 🥰💞

#jungkook smut #bodyguard #bts #bts smut #bts army #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook angst

89 notes · View notes

shwoo · 5 months

Text

Okay here's my headcanons of which Bugsnax characters actually know the Journalist's name. I'm also headcanoning that Lizbert mentioned their name when she told the others she wanted to invite them, and that they tend not to give their name unless prompted. They're a journalist, is that not enough?! (They may also have some personal identity issues)

REMEMBERED THEIR NAME

Lizbert: Knows their name and maybe also their address.

Beffica: Knew their name because she's read all their articles. Pretended not to know at first as part of her facade of detachment, which is why she said "You're that journalist!" when first meeting them.

Clumby: Presumably knows them as something more specific than "obsessed monster hunter who made me have to work late."

Chandlo: Remembered because he is definitely the kind of friendly and outgoing person who can remember anyone's name after hearing it once.

Wiggle: Makes a point of remembering journalist's names. Tends to unconsciously assume that any media person is there mostly for her, so she wants to make a good impression.

Snorpy: Remembered in order to look into them and figure out if they were the heroic truth-seeker kind of journalist or the villainous sensationalist kind. Liked what he found, but still suspected they were a Grumpinati impersonator when first meeting them.

Floofty: Remembers their name, but refuses to use it out of spite.

DID NOT REMEMBER THEIR NAME

Gramble: Forgot their name, and either asked them when they met, or asked Wiggle.

Triffany: Terrible with names, apologised and asked them for it when they met.

Cromdo: Told himself he'd remember their name in case they did show up and he had the chance to sell them something, then totally forgot. Asked them what it was when they met, and immediately did the "[diminutive], can I call you [diminutive]?" thing. The Journalist said "Sure," because they didn't really care.

Eggabell: Didn't pay much attention to what Lizbert said about them, since she didn't think they'd take the invitation. Despite having quite a bit of interaction with them and worrying about their health, didn't realise she didn't know what to call them until halfway through her "I just need Filbo and... Filbo's... buddy." line.

Shelda: Tried to remember their name so she could address them by it before they introduced themself, and impress them with her mystical knowledge, but got distracted by everything else that was happening and forgot. Got away with it for a while because of her tendency to refer to people with descriptions when overacting, but exposed herself when she said "Floofty, did you ask the journalist to throw acid at you?" The Journalist made fun of her for keeping up the charade for so long, so she reminded them that Floofty had asked them to throw acid at them, and they'd done it.

Wambus: Took a little while to realise that he couldn't get away with just calling them Stranger forever, and then was too stubborn to admit defeat and ask. The Journalist specifically suggested he use their name after his "I been calling you stranger, but you been around a while" chat, but he still refused to ask what it was, or admit that he didn't already know. Eventually heard Triffany refer to them by name, but she had to do it a few times before he decided that he knew it now.

Filbo: Forget immediately after being told, and also forgot to ask when they met. Didn't realise they probably had a name until after they'd interviewed him, and didn't want to ask out of awkwardness. Hoped they or one of the others would mention it, but coincidentally, nobody ever did, at least in an unambiguous way. Eventually asked them while they were heading back to the mainland, but continues to call them Buddy anyway.

Jamfoot: Clumby told him their name when she let him know that they were also going to Snaktooth Island, and he forgot their entire existence immediately. Was confused when Clumby mentioned them by name after they returned alive, even after she clarified that they were her ex-employee who went to Snaktooth Island.

82 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 1 year

Note

happy birthday! identity shenanigans in the fandom of your choice, please?

Part 1 2

Chris doesn't get through more than two upper level demons before the sisters' calling for him starts to give him a headache.

He orbs back in the manor, arms crossed. "Did you figure out how to put the sword back in the lake?"

Leo is here now. Great. As if this whole situation wasn't already terrible.

"My liege," says a tall man in a ridiculous outfit, going into a deep bow. "I felt when the sword was removed. I am here to teach you how to wield it."

Chris can't even pretend to give a fuck. "Go away."

"Um, he seems to a lot about the sword?" Phoebe offers. "Maybe he can help you put it back. His name is Mordaunt."

"It would be my honor to-"

"Am I your king or aren't I?" Chris demands. "Fuck off."

Paige seems delighted by his attitude while Piper is taken aback and Leo is frowning.

"Perhaps you are not the king," Mordaunt suggests, "your combative attitude could be a result of the sword's corruptive power. It's strange that the sword would appear in the Charmed Ones' home only for you to take it from the stone."

People thinking the sword can't possibly belong to him is nothing new. It was always supposed to be Wyatt, no one ever questioned that, but when the time he came he couldn't make the sword budge, no matter what he did.

Chris's time with it had been brief. He'd been too young when he'd pulled it free and Wyatt had stolen it and corrupted it and been corrupted by it. No one had believed him.

Well, almost no one.

"Are you saying Excalibur doesn't know it's master?" he asks sharply.

Mordaunt visibly hesitates.

"Go," he says. "Before I make you."

His face sours but he gives a shallow bow and disappears into a vortex. Interesting. Those are typically associated with neutral parties.

The sisters and Leo look wary. He holds back a sigh and says, "If the sword were truly corrupting me, I wouldn't want to put it back and I'd be trying to conquer the world. It's mine."

"You're King Arthur?" Paige presses. "You're a whitelighter!"

Piper's face softens. "Were you king before you died?"

There are so many reasons that this is a disaster, but the questions it brings up are the worst for him personally.

He supposes he's just lucky that Piper hadn't grabbed for the sword. She's his mother, and the half of him that will eventually become, well, him, is still inside of her. She would have been able to pull it from the stone, it would have corrupted her, and it would have been almost impossible to get it away from her without revealing his identity.

"It's not king like you're thinking of it," he says finally. "Don't worry about it. Unless me being king means you'll actually listen to me, in which case it means exactly what you think it does."

"If you're the king, why didn't you say that when you first appeared?" Leo challenges. "It would have meant more than you just being a random whitelighter from the future."

Chris stares. "Yeah, because historically the Charmed Ones have responded so well to authority. It doesn't matter. I'm not a king here."

His identity matters in the future. It's the only reason the Resistance exists at all.

Wyatt doesn't use Excalibur against him in battle. The sword, even corrupted, knows its king. It won't harm him.

His brother found that out that hard way, in front of too many witnesses. It's the only reason anyone is crazy enough to go against someone who's seemingly almost all powerful.

"You're so young, though," Phoebe frowns. "How long have you been a whitelighter? You're not even born yet. And - why would the Elders make you a whitelighter? You need to be reincarnated. It's your destiny."

Destiny is horseshit.

It's Paige who figures it out. He'd always worried that it would be her, that he'd see the similarities between them that no one else noticed. "Unless - you didn't die. You're not a whitelighter."

Piper frowns. "Honey, he's pretty obviously a whitelighter."

"No," she shakes her head. "I mean, yeah, but he's like me. You didn't die. You were born a whitelighter."

This day really can't get any worse.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #charmed

207 notes · View notes

merao-mariposa · 2 months

Text

In this ship I only know two things (and one is you)

Alternative title: A typical meeting with the space headquarters, me and my platonic-alien husband

This au is not mine, it is from: @rainbowchaox (In the original post said tag to give credit. So I hope you don't mind for tagging u!)

Fair warning; this is long, sorry for any mistakes this is not my first language

(...)

The computer made a soft noise when it turned on, there were about 20 minutes left before the meeting where multiple terrestrial researchers would update about the findings of the planets in one same sector.

These meetings were annual and generally occupied one field researcher per planet.

This year Missa was one of these, but not the only one.

That helped relax the pressure on his shoulders. Running a hand delicately through his hair Missa was aware of two things.

One; He hadn't cut his hair since the last time he slept in the habitable building.

And two; His left arm was still not fully healed since his last exploration accident.

It had been a simple thing, his boat had collided with a submerged mineral formation which caused him to hit the railing and fall into the water. Fortunately, certain leaves cut from the planet had quite appropriate properties to close some minimal capillaries through stimulating them.

Kissing it better also worked (Missa was joking, he swears he did)

The urgent coos sounded worried to which Missa said he only choked a little, almost nothing, but I didn't seem to calm Phil down much. Now under his lab coat was the makeshift bandage surrounding his left bicep.

Missa's eyes lingered on one of the computer's loading screens, two dots for eyes, one for nose, a taut line creating a happy face. It was the logo of the Galactic Federation, a regulatory entity that, in the midst of so many companies that sought to register the outer galaxies, sought to delimit what they could and could not do.

His company (Quesadilla Space Research Center) was not an exception, so he knew they would have at least one Federation agent.

Missa was not afraid of speaking in public, but the idea of facing a federal agent struck him because they had a terrible reputation due to accusations of being “a tyrannical force.”

He waited a few minutes, settling uncomfortably in his chair, which had been too long since they had sat in it, when the opposite camera turned on and the red light on his holographic screen appeared.

For the first time in 10 Earthling months, another voice that was not prerecorded or the mellifluous tone of Missa, did resonated particularly loudly in the compact building.

-“Hello Misaaa how are you??”

-“Quackity? Que?!"

-“Hello researcher Sinfonia”

ElQ says just after his brother's effusive entrance and Missa quickly passed his eyes between the two identical faces that greeted him on the screen.

The twins had basically grown up in the Quesadilla facility. Quackity was one of Missa's mission supervisors while ElQ worked as an administrator for the department where Missa worked.

In simpler words he was in front of two of his bosses right now and he was stunned to see them, which led Quackity to a fit of laughter.

-“What are you laughing at, pendejo?!” Missa shouted

-“Your face- your face looks like one of those fucking catfish from planet M213 like that”

The most talkative twin, proceeded to do an imitation with his mouth as open as possible and Missa saw his opportunity.

-“This is how your face looks like whe you see Luzu!”

The comment earned a chuckle from ElQ so Missa considered it a victory regardless of how Quackity made a comically offended gasp before launching into insults.

-“Researcher Sinfonia”

Like someone interrupting two children fighting, Missa quickly moved away from the monitor because when the screams started he had leaned over the writing panel for more impact.

-"Yes sir?"

-“I assume you know why contact was initiated from the crew on Earth before the update meeting, right?”

-“…wasn't it because you guys missed me rigth?”

-"What?"

-"El para que cosa de que?"

-“... Ok. I guess you don't know, as this will be your first meeting at this level, we thought it would be appropriate to give you some warnings regarding the meeting participants."

Missa never considered himself the smartest of the investigaion crew at all, but he wasn't stupid (he was a research scientist for God's sake) he knew what they meant.

-"The Quesadilla station" ElQ proceeded. "Is an Earth station, which is well know, but it also has agreements, living assets and work centers even outside the Milky Way that need to be regulated and monitored by an external entity that avoids conflicts of interest".

Quackity interrupted his brother's speech like someone who already knows it too well

-"In short, there will be outgoing beings of other species in the same position as you and there will be person, a federal, supervising the meeting."

He soured a little at the name and ElQ tensed as if he were punched by that name.

-“But the most important”

-“You must obey Cucurucho” / “Be careful with Cucurucho”

The twins looked at each other in surprise, again in perfect coordination. It was always intimidating to see the twins talking or moving at the same time, a feeling of inherent discomfort.

And speaking of discomfort and intimidation, when the meeting had finally started Missa realized that his chair was stinging his back, but it was too late to stop as the supervisor sent by the Federation seemed to pin him to his chair with just their blank stare lacking off all emotion.

The Quackitys stood one on each side and stared absently at the camera as if they weren't happy to give up their seat to… whatever the feds were.

If Missa were more paranoid he would think that the subject with features of both humanoid and bear looked like a dictator of the kind that space had not seen since wilder times. But that was exaggerated.

No?

As it were, the default screen was the one that connected with the crew at home and it changed whoever was presenting their findings in the habitable areas of the sector to be explored.

Planets and moons above all, but of course Etoiles, a kind of organic being similar to a pickle, had to explore near a possible black hole.

The photos were hilarious because he could be seen in the full suit making the human peace sign.

That made him laugh the most (internally, of course he did not dare to laugh out loud with the presence of the federal officer there). One by one the researchers went by to present their findings and Missa noticed that the majority were indeed human with some hybridized.

Until finally it was the turn of the planet Vita Vitaris, which was more or less 150,000,000 km away from the nearest sun, but it was known for sure that those distance was more between this and other planets. A a lonely planet.

When Missa began to speak, he immediately realized that he was doing well, he soon shared the screen and turned off his microphone, letting the computer read the results (which took a huge weight off his shoulders because he now knew without a doubt that the transmission to earth would only see his results and not him)

Missa, taking advantage of the data count made by the robotic voice, let out a deep yawn, he couldn't sleep in a seat as uncomfortable as that, but he was so tired, and he should check the bruise, and his brain which was still excited by the new information also had too much to process.

The cloud of sleep above him suddenly vanished as he heard a weird noise.

It sounded like a sharp thump, something falling, but nothing should fall because everything was controlled by machines, human error hardly existed. Missa's eyes were fixed in the darkness searching and regretting for not requesting to turn on the lights as it got dark, Missa shifted uncomfortably, suddenly he felt observed, he gave a sideways glance at the holographic camera but but was still off, his body keep itching and the robotic voice continued citing possible PH compatible with some form that now he could not care less about.

Like a prey about to be hunted by a predator, the muscles under his lab coat prepare to run, his conscious brain sought to give himself security despite just tripping over himself; There is no way that something could have gotten in, it was impossible for something to cross the defenses of the compact laboratory without activating an alarm so, logically, it was an i-internal failure No, no, there is not a damm way for the station to fail because if it did… he was dead, his entire livelihood was there and clearly the only way to get home was that, believing that the station had failed was as improbable as the idea that something had entered.

And both ideas were catastrophic.

Missa's less rational brain was already in the catastrophes that awaited him, an unknown evil making its way through the darkness to finish him off, angry at having a stranger in his ecosystem would launch itself and he would be finished, eventually (in a hundred of years) nature would reclaim the mobile station, swallowing every trace left behind of its existence..

The voice continued in the background but Missa had already partially stopped listening, with his gaze fixed on the darkness he realized that perhaps he did not want to be the end of his bloodline so he slowly directed his hand to his weapon. According to the regulations it did little more than stun small fauna in case they were too violent to take the samples normally.

He was dimly aware that he wouldn't be heard or seen until the results were finished being dictated, the plan was; sudden movement = electrocute, buy time and ask for help.

He swore he heard something low and shallow under the synthetic voice and his grip on the shock weapon tightened.

Slowly, very slowly in the darkness a small figure with… stripes?appeared.

Missa let out a sharp sigh

“P…Philza!” The sapient Vitaris's face lit up at the pure relief that could be heard in his human's voice and he made a trill in greeting.

Missa's shoulders basically slumped, his heart still pounding but it would only take a moment to calm down now that he knew Phil was there and, wait, why was he there?

-"Philza…? How did you get in querido?"

Missa looked back at the holpographic screen, already showing more than half of his arduous findings, all transmitted with a voice so dead and robotic that he was almost disappointing to see his effort transmitted like this.

Buzzing Philza pointed to where the glass tunnel that connected both buildings was, but that didn't make sense, the glass is unbreakable and if it had broken the alarms would have go on.

-"But… like inside the building?" Missa turned his head like a confused dog and Philza found that adorable.

Buzzing even louder Philza approached to his seat, which was like a kind of semicircle embedded on the floor in front of the holographic monitor and Missa finally saw Philza, the Vitaris hermit who had saved him countless times on that remote planet, the most fascinating being to study and greatest source of happiness in the jungle that were for planet was wrapped in Missa´s favorite blanket with his straw hair disheveled and his semi-drooping antennae had an appearance that made Missa melt.

How could someone in a blanket look so good? he still moved as only a predator with years of hunting behind him could do, the fine lines in the corners of his eyes revealed his good character despite everything and his eyes; they trapped him like a black hole to an unfortunate ship.

Crossing over the back of the seat he crouched next to Missa's seated body. His urgent eyes went to his left arm as if he wanted to ask something.

-"What's the matter? Are you worry Phil?"

Philza made a soft trill and in one quick movement covered Missa's body with the same blanket that he uses

Wrapped in an unexpected hug, Missa's hands moved instinctively to cup Phil's back, careful not to touch his wings. A while ago he would have been afraid to put his hands on other people, but after several months of investigation and bonding time the research scientist had concluded that the Wise Vitaris was a little touch-starved.

And after almost 10 months away from all types of non-virtual interaction he could also want some attention. Months of time together had brought them closer than Missa had ever allowed himself to be brought closer to others. Was it because there was no one else around? Or perhaps the strongest bond they had was one too strong that crossed planets?

With Phil practically purring through his wings Missa decided that for now the answer didn't matter, he knew that Phil was very bothered by contact with his antennae but part of his body was more insensitive so he lowered his hands to Phils hips and maneuvered Philza in a more comfortable position than squatting next to him.

The blonde-haired Vitaris made a series of clicks that sounded satisfied at Missa's initiative, quickly settling his head under the human's chin and his hands gripping his human shoulders in a lazy touch, his throat vibrating with happy gurgles. Missa felt… he didn't know how he felt, he literally put a being from another planet in his lap while he discussed a meeting with other researchers light years away from his planet Earth.

He would laugh under other circumstances but the lump in his throat felt dry and heavy, like one of those roots near Phil's tree hut that maybe he shouldn't have eaten.

Uncanny was a word to describe how he felt when Philza raised his head and his eyes slowly closed like cats would around Missa (only if, you know, if the cats blinked horizontally and not vertically)

Missa's breath escaped from his throat..

Bathed in blue light from the hologram the black haired man realized how much Philza didn't belong there, he belonged where everything was much bigger than him and bigger than Missa. He was surrounded by that huge garden that was his own world while Missa was surrounded by some artificial light, he also noticed how it was reflected in Philza's irregular eyes and suddenly he was slapped with two things at once.

One; Philza didn't belong with him, he was such a small thing compared to Philza and Philza didn't deserve to carry Misssas feelings when they couldn't belong together.

And Two; Philza looked beautiful, out of place, yes, but always welcome in Missa's arms, Missa's cheeks warmed by a wave of affection that made him want to kiss this alien-bug-man so bad that makes Missa looks stupid.

Philza made a high-pitched trill that caught his attention, directing his gaze to some photos of the planet's fauna. He had several photos of Philza himself but did not include them in the presentation, saving them on a separate USB memory.

It felt too… intimate for him to tell them about Philza, and regular reports with the crew on Earth confirmed that as a researcher he had established communication with the dominant species of the planet Vita, just not to what extent yet.

Missa recognizes those photos as the ones at the end of his presentation, the most recent data is read by the computer as background noise and Phil looks particularly less impressed than the other times he's been in there.

A deep sigh that he didn't know was holding came out softly from him, more pathetic than he thought as he realized how Philza did burst into the station.

(…)

He didn't, Missa let him in after his accident, they were closer to his station than Phils treehouse and even though he didn't like to leave his terrotory for too long, Phil's instincts were closed at the mere thought of his mate taking care for his own wound all alone.

It had hurt his pride that the human he was courting had gotten hurt with him present so he had managed to get the human to share not only his hiding place but to make a space for him and his eggs in his very own nest. Which in no way struck Philza's brain with the idea of how the human corresponded to his advances, nope, not at all.

Well…

maybe a little

That was a good sign! how close he was to being able to have the human as his partner, his efforts to prove to the black-haired man that he was the best option were giving results if he was easily accepted into his nest.

But you can imagine his surprise when he woke up in a half-made nest with his babies without his partner to court, the smell of the human was overwhelming and the space was limited. If it were up to him he would make a bigger nest that covered the entire room a nest worthy of his humand and children. A deep, disapproving vibration left his throat; He could do a better one and he will once they return to his territory.

He allowed himself to judge the materials of the human kind of nest, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were not good enough for his Missa, almost enough to sleep in but it did not allow him to snuggle or cuddle comfortably with his wings, much less with his flock, needed more space, fresher materials, safer structures, needed!-

His antennas moved suddenly, something boiling beneath his surface led him to stretch out on the small bed in the room, searching for his mate. He wasn't there, but the best next thing was his blanket, which smelled deeply like him. It was probably the softest of the few that Missa had laid out in case they wanted to rest (he put all the ones he had) its smell was overwhelming and almost calmed the serious discomfort caused by the idea of Missa sleeping in such an inappropriate nest. Overwhelmed by his delicious smell, he felt his brain become comfortably cloudy. He could keep that, just a little longer.

When he woke up again the blanket was no longer enough, call him greedy but he wanted more (that doesn't mean he was going to discard the blanket yet, had their smells mixed in) that's how he easily wandered around the room, the habitable building (which was not very big) seeing his husband's mark printed everywhere, he had good taste, he would not let him build the nest (because that was his duty when courting him) but perhaps he could help choose some materials.

"Violet. Tallulah likes purple. Decorate me violet, Use Liliacs? mate would like it. He likes purple, Lilac, Violet"

He rambled as he quickly passed the tunnel that connects the two buildings, habitable building to the laboratory. He had already been in the laboratory building, it was not his favorite place but missa was there so best building between the two.

Phil rushed to meet him, the audacity of this man! leave him alone in an empty nest where his children should be protected by them, Philza was ready to drag him if necessary, his wings vibrating behind him and accidentally hit something that he overlooked in the darkness, he stopped with the impact, noticing the fear in the human´s eyes so Phil did approached more slowly, as he would do with an injured animal that he wants to keep, a good decision because now he is comfortably on his lap, Philza would scold him later

His face illuminated by the blue light looked adorable but he had a frown ruining his expression

He vibrated, curious to find out what he disliked

(…)

Missa was caught by surprise when he felt Philza's warm breath on his neck, almost making him jump out of his seat. He could feel Phil´s throat vibrating in conjunction with his wings. He wondered if it had been a good idea to put the blue-eyed Vita on his lap afterwards.

It could be that he was going to open his mouth at any moment to eat him(and Missa found that he wasn't all that against that idea, after all there were worse ways to go, I mean-)

He realized that everything felt very quiet then, except for the wings vibrating and their the soft breathing all was silence for a second, before the Federal's voice broke the silence.

The holographic screen had gone from the results of his operations, to traversing what were months of work in what felt like seconds to give way again to the headquarters at home.

Cucurucho look weirder than usual, still expressionless as a corpse, but had their brooding air gotten worse?? like something wasn't in place, to make matters worse he actually seemed to be able to see Missa in the eyes, through his eyes, into his brain, and through his brain into him, he tensed and swore that Phil's buzz grew louder, suddenly the fed seemed to focus only in him and suddenly he move-

"...Hahaha"

No mames-

"Researcher 564, your holographic camera and microphone are still off" Reported the cold, robotic voice that sounded frighteningly similar to the canned voice of his computer.

Missa was startled by his voice, his hand automatically moving to carry out the order when suddenly a growl interrupted his movement.

Philza was bristling like a cat, his face turned to face the Cucurucho hologram eyes fixed on it, his hand on Missa's shoulders went from a soft and light touch to a vicious grip, his wings seemed to spread and twitch and the muscles in his back were tense.

Missa struggled when Phil's claws tried to dig into his shoulders.

"Philza, cariño, stop" The wise vitaris growled louder like a cat looking to intimidate.

-"Please s-stop- can you? wait a second, just, wait-“

Pressed by the surveillance of the hologram and the fear that Earth headquarters would activate the cameras themselves, Missa wrapped his arm around Phil's wings, making them recoil vaguely in his grip before melting in his hands.

His other arm flew towards the microphone ready to turn it on when he fixed his eyes on Phil's absorbing orbs, a deep blue that swallowed all the light as if only night existed there, they reflected the light of the room as if it had a moon inside and against them, Missa's constricted pupils floated in a miniature canvas of rich, enchanting purple that burned fervently like only the sun.

-“Please” the scientist whispered and finally the sun won that battle.

-“Y-Yes, I'm really sorry, the rains seem to have, eh, damaged something inside the camera, I already cut to get to the button but it seems that the humidity reached too deep, I can't turn it on.”

-“Unacceptable”

-“In fact, it is reversible damage” a voice from the call, a researcher at Destoier planet, intervened. Presumably a human with a white tuft.

- “It will take a while but it is repairable”

Missa gave a grateful look at the hologram that took the form of that researcher even though he knew they couldn't see him. Cucurucho, stopped, as if they were weighing what the researcher had said

Their heavy gaze returned to Missa but its time but this time they didn't say anything.

Missa's microphone automatically closed to make way for the next researcher and his data and finally the black-haired man felt like he could breathe again.

Slowly Phil's buzzing subsided until it gave way to its normal volume, just a little fast and urgent, if Missa had managed to relax his shoulders after the tense exchange they now tensed again when the Vitaris buried his face in the juncture between neck and shoulder of the man with the amethyst eyes.

-“Phi-Philza?! What are you-?"

Was- was he rubbing? A series of muffled clicks collided with his neck, "Threat Mate. Keep Away From Flock, Protect. No-Live. So Strange"

Missa hesitantly placed a hand on his blonde head, gently stroking his hair. Subtle nothings left his lips, seeking to reassure Phil. Unfortunately, he still did not understand the language in Vitaris, which was especially frustrating at that moment.

They stayed there in each other's arms, as the bright blue holograms mutated in shape according to the results of other operations, other false voices mechanically read the investigations in the background, as time progressed Missa thought about how the meeting fell on deaf ears for him because he couldn't find himself to be minimally interested.

A planet passed, then another, and another, he could almost believe that the holograms looked beautiful, another planet and Missa gasped deeply.

He woke up, blinking slowly with a vertigo that he only felt when he was 9 and he teleported from the couch to the bed while he slept (the haters would say it was his parents) suddenly aware of two other things.

One: he was in his bed .

And two: he had not slept in his bed.

Revealing himself from the blanket, he noticed that buried in a kind of circle of blankets and pillows there were two eggs, ahh. Chayanne and Tallulah Missa would never forget that, they could move and semi-communicate like their father but the little Vitaris (presumably) remained inside the shell until they had completely finished their development, they had a tendency to sleep a lot until that moment (mainly Chayanne) and they still depended on their caregiver (Philza) for food and protection.

Still some sleepy, Missa placed a hand delicately on tallulah¨s shell, warming easily under his hand as if the little girl inside could tell he was there and respond to the touch, an aww died in his throat when he noticed that his left arm wouldn't move.

I mean, he could but he would have to take down an adult Vitaris for that. Phil was curled up on his left side while the children (his children?) rested on the right of him, the heat quickly hitting his cheeks as he noticed how close they were and that they were sharing beds? Wasn't that very intimate for the Vitaris kind? with their eggs there??

In front of the children?

Phil had one arm around Missa's waist, his wings pressed uncomfortably against his back in an attempt to keep them from hanging, and his other arm. Oh, it was on the bruise, which was no longer a bruise because it had healed, the bandage was missing and in its place was Phil's calloused, warm hand.

Missa looked at the hand on him, then at the Vitaris's sleeping face, then at the arm around his waist, and finally at the two eggs resting on his bed. It was fine, feel nice. Feel so nice and and diffused inside him. Missa guessed one last thing; That he could let himself sleep, just a little. He probably hallucinated but he felt a kiss on his hair before falling into a comfortable, surrounded and safe sleep.

//I finished, I finally finished this one, it could have been better, much better but I really wanted to publish it for the death duo/pissa anniversary. Thanks so much for reading love u goys :,)

44 notes · View notes

bellshazes · 2 years

Text

a list of bdubs-centric continuities that make me fucking wildly insane, in chronological-ish order:

boomers + vote scar posters in the moon base as a memento of the prior season

don't worry, it's not the clock (start of hcs8 with impulse, who has come to give bdubs presents and spots the accessory on his new skin)

this brings back memories (the very first seconds of partnering with etho in last life)

now it feels like home! (cleo arriving in what will become the snow fort for the first time, to lighthearted complaining from etho)

I heard you've been messing with my buddy (cleo bullying etho mostly for fun, but an opportunity she had solely because she'd already been doing pointless favors for bdubs (pretending to have found the enchanter randomly while both red, even though no one would fall for that bc she's red) solely because he asked and she's still fond of him)

that man has a hold on me, I guess (about his habit of making dumb deals with scar for no good logical reason)

I trust you because bdubs trusted you (not only is the crastle a running undercurrent in LL, it's also transitively extended to etho)

that was in another world (tango to bdubs, not long before escaping obliteration by moon in an extended bit where he chooses to take his horse instead of his business partner despite some asymmetrically heart-wrenching videos exchanged after it was too late)

Double Life #1: The Nick of Time (bdubs makes impulse, his government assigned soulmate, get him the thing he betrayed impulse for in an identically titled third life episode)

I have NEVER lied to you, Bdubs (cleo taking bdubs to task for not continuing to return the loyalty they've had to each other over the seasons)

he's just jealous (explaining that etho, who despite being the first person to call bdubs and impulse married can't stop asking if bdubs is really happy, is insulting impulse's honor because of missing their past partnership)

she scolded me so badly, one time (explaining above scolding to ren as a relevant criteria to cleo's hcs9 court audition tape)

and, in fact, the way that bdubs' reputation as the hermitcraft server's most dedicated sleeper led to his constant carrying of clocks as a done thing, to keeping clocks close in the life series where you can't one-person sleep the night away so they're much less useful, leading to I'd do anything for a clock because that service he provides in another world has become central to who he is as a character, to the keeping of time and history, and also bundled here associations with the moon, which recalls the passage of time and now also the ending of worlds, and you'd think it should have been planned from the start but he's just always taking every opportunity to say, "that world is over, but don't you remember what I did or didn't do? doesn't it still matter, here and now?"

#bdoubleo100 #blogging with bdoubleo #the self-restraint it took not to put wellsglazes let'sbuild and wellsglazes buildingwith in here. please clap #meta tag #ive made a 'betraying tango in LL lead to his obliteration by moon in a passive aggressive act of revenge tango denied wanting' post #but the world still isn't ready for my essay on how mindcrack s5 led to his sleeping obsession.#AND the magma cube death loop in hcs7 -> his avoidance of it in s8 -> his foolhardy braveness in the nether as an intentional shift #toward something brave and heroic.

918 notes · View notes

eighthdoctor · 7 months

Text

Maximianus Philophonos Bard 11/Rogue 1

Because we're at the end of the campaign, I wanted to write up a little bit about Max.

Max started as a combo of two A+ tier ideas:

A charisma caster but the charisma is "the most pathetic little man you've ever seen, you can't possibly say no"

A bard who thought being a bard was like being a professional musician and is shocked to find out that it is not, in fact, at all like being a professional musician.

The other thing going into Max is (before naming him, the name is only accidentally a pun) I wanted to abuse the shit out of the bard class. Minmax that fucker. Dating the DM is an excellent method for getting away with this. Turns out a single level in rogue gets you some expertise (2x proficiency bonus to some skills) which you then get MORE of with bard levels, and eventually bard gets you jack of all trades (1/2 proficiency to anything you're not proficient in) meaning that most of his skill checks are something like +5.

So out of universe I needed a guy whose first level was in rogue, remainder in bard, a classic pathetic little wet rat of a man, who is both wildly talented and also just. Completely incapable of using that for malicious OOC purposes otherwise my wife would kill me.

What I wound up with is someone who has crippling anxiety. Max is very nearly too anxious to function in society, gets outsize sympathy for it, and really can only do social interactions in the framework of performances.

See, at about 18 Max went to magical Juilliard to become first violin in the Requiem City Orchestra. After the first semester he realized two things:

Magical Juliliard is not really Juilliard at all, but more like the CIA academy if they also taught music.

He's trans. (Sidebar: He does not actually have a deadname. Maximianus is his stage performance name that he just sort of. Went with. After coming out.)

This is all hideously awkward and embarrassing and he has multiple fullblown panic attacks about the first thing.

Max's family is huge and overbearing and supportive and he doesn't really want to come out to them because it will be a Whole Thing TM and he is so, so, so bad about receiving affection, and he really doesn't want to tell them about the school mixup because then he's wasted their money and they'll never ever ever say anything about it but he's just a drain on their resources and also everyone will be so caring, so sympathetic, poor kid, homecooked meals for months, mom knocking on the door every day to see if he's still crying--

So he goes no-contact. To avoid explaining why he's dropping out of school.

He did accomplish one thing in that semester though, and that was making friends with a tabaxi student named Ihava (Ihava Nayme, because Jo mistakenly didn't give her a name and we promptly engaged her in conversation and also a subplot). Ihava is a budding revolutionary and realized that (a) Max totally has subversive tendencies and (b) the ability to baldfaced lie to cops and make the cops feel bad for you is priceless.

That's how Max got involved in a budding insurgency, and over the following year or so took his first class in rogue. Some theft, but mostly just skulking around, standing watch for others, passing info, etc.

Then he got itchy feet--Requiem isn't tiny but a year trying to avoid contact with any relatives, your luck will run out eventually, and Max is also just. He's not flighty but he does like novelty, and at some point the Violet Guard were gonna figure out that this kid was turning up at a lot of crime scenes. So he dropped a letter to the family (identity crisis etc graduated early etc going off to join the circus don't worry about me), and really just started moving across the country, working as a travelling minstrel.

He very rarely pays full room & board, instead playing for his dinner. He eventually washed up in Suncrest, and met the rest of the party when the tavern down the street [checks notes] exploded.

And this is where he really started taking off, because Max is two very cool things in one package:

He is just a good kid. When asked by a NPC why we were putting so much effort into helping her, his immediate, honest answer was "how could we not?" and he stands by that 11 levels later. He's somehow remained mostly Lawful Good despite some VERY sketchy actions, because at his core he wants to help people, and he wants to do so within a strict code of morals. They're just...sometimes unusual.

He's also got a VERY nasty imagination and will put his spell list to work in deeply creative (and fucked up) ways.

As an example. At level 4, Max got the second level spell Phantasmal Force, which lets you convince one being that Something Exists. This is obviously a spell mostly constrained by the player's creativity.

Also at level 4 Jo dropped us in a dungeon at the bottom of which was a Young Blue Dragon. This was moderately outleveled for the party and we should have fucked off.

Instead Max went "hey is that a male dragon" and the DM said yes, and Max mindfucked the dragon into thinking there was a Young Red (male) Dragon coming into HIS LAIR, and then the dragon spent multiple rounds trying to fight the illusion and we completely killed a dragon without major injury at level 4.

This became Max's Thing: Using his spell slots to wildly outsize effect, through monopolizing a major enemy, convincing NPCs to let us go where we really should not go, utilizing cold iron + animate objects to do serious damage to the Wild Hunt...

He didn't usually do the most damage and he didn't often get the kill shot, but he was doing battlefield control. A lot.

And so then we come to the final arc. Jo wrote up the bit about the Wish spell here. (I need to add that once again we fucked up her plans, because of COURSE the WIZARD would attune to the STAFF OF THREE WISHES, and no. Consensus was to let Max do it because Max is the words person. This worked out very well, see here.)

But just. You have the world's most anxious bard. He didn't even want to be A Bard, he wanted to be a musician. He also has a mindblowingly powerful artifact.

For over a minute, Max had to maintain perfect concentration to save the world. A friend died in that minute. Multiple friends fell unconscious and had to be revived (mostly by Max). Almost everyone in the party temporarily incapacitated themself (see here) to ensure that he passed Concentration saves he should have failed.

There's a massive battle going on entirely around Max. He is the focal point of everything. Everyone he loves is risking literally everything to keep him focused, and he spends most of it in a pocket dimension trying to keep breathing. He's channelling impossible power to try and fix the converging planes and defeat the Summer Queen, and he can only do this by not fighting, by hiding away and curling up tight and thinking very, very hard.

And he does it. He succeeds. We find out tomorrow what that looks like but god damn I am proud of my boy.

#HE'S SUCH A GOOD #i'm not sorry for putting this massive thing on everyone's dashes y'all deserve it #julis runs d&d

64 notes · View notes

loggiepj · 1 year

Text

FORBIDDEN

Part 7 | Part 8

Part 9

AT THE CRACK of dawn, Pietro and Y/n journeyed on horseback towards Steve's camp, with fresh supplies in tow they disguised as merchandise if ever the encounter with a Deviant couldn't be avoided. The two had also disguised themselves as traders, with Y/n pretending to be a man.

News had somehow reached Y/n's ears that Deviants were looking for someone with Y/h/c hair and Y/e/c eyes; they were looking for her. She knew he was looking for her.

As a precaution, Yelena and another Avenger scouted the pathways last night to assure the roads were clear from any surprised attacks.

The entire camp was devastated when they found out what Deviants were doing to witches they had captured. The team was hesitant to reveal the information at first, but Y/n knew they deserved to know the truth, so they'd know the urgency of rendering more rescue missions even when winter was still at its peak.

Wanda took the lead on gathering more volunteers from her kind, teaching them what she knew and telling them that some humans could be trusted too.

This didn't go well with Vision when he found out about the unjust slaughter. He immediately complained, even raising anger along his peers, that all humans should be punished for what they have done. If Wanda weren't there to oppose his actions, he could create a mutiny within them.

This was what led Y/n to ask Pietro about Vision. Not because he was Wanda's soon-to-be-husband, no, Y/n reminded herself. But it wouldn't hurt to ask. Wanda deserved to be with someone good regardless.

"Tell me something about Vision," Y/n said.

"Mm?"

The snow wasn't too deep along the main road; the sound of their feet, the horses' and the wheels from their small cart scrunching against the soft ground filled the air. Y/n hesitated, hoping to let the sudden question go away. But she knew she wouldn't have the chance to ask Pietro alone later since he was always with Wanda or his friends.

"Is h-he . . . Is he a good person?"

Pietro sighed, immediately thinking about the reason why Y/n was asking. He thought she was worried about the camp's safety.

"You don't have to worry about him, Y/n," he answered, giving her a pursed smile. "He may be arrogant and self-absorbed, but he can be trusted. I even think he's softening around the others, too, if you ask me." He chuckles.

Y/n forced a laugh; jealousy rumbling in her stomach. She didn't bring it up anymore, settling on the fact that Vision and Wanda are together and she wouldn't let herself come in between. She's not that kind of person.

Upon reaching Steve's camp, which was a small terrain as compared to the main headquarters, Yelena was already there chatting with someone by the entrance. Four women were standing and giggling beside her.

When Yelena saw Y/n and Pietro approached, she waved to the others. Yelena holding one of the woman's hand made Y/n realize her bestfriend was urging the woman to come along with her.

"Hey, Y/n. Hey, Piet," Yelena greeted them. She instructed them to park the horses and the small cart in the courtyard outside the great hall, the camp's own pavilion. Smaller tents and wooden sheds were set up next to it. "Steve's just finishing up some work in his shop." She pointed at one tiny shed beside the hall, with a furnace on top bellowing smoke to the air.

The place had lesser campers, mostly rescued witches who would be transferred later to the Avengers' main camp. Y/n had only been in their camp twice, thrice counting now. It almost looked identical to the headquarters, with Steve and Bucky, his brother, wanting to make it look like home. It almost felt like Y/n never left.

Yelena jumped giddily as she placed her arms around Pietro and Y/n's shoulders, pulling them to meet the women standing before them — the witches Steve had told them about.

"Hey, lovely ladies. Let me introduce you to my friends. This strapping handsome man here is Pietro," Pietro smiles shyly as he waved his hand, "and this is my bestfriend Y/n, the one I told you about."

Y/n's face flushed red as she stood there awkwardly and smiled, avoiding the eyes of the women swaying in front of them. Steve was right. They did have that aura of allure Y/n couldn't place. It was as if anyone who'd stare longer at them, they would be ensnared with desire.

Well, except Y/n, of course. She was already enchanted by a certain witch who answers to the name of Wanda. Her entire being was already ruined by the witch's presence in her life. How Y/n could still exist knowing that the person she wanted most in this world already belonged to somebody else was a wonder to her.

"Piet, Y/n, these are Monica, sisters Nebula and Gamora," Yelena winks at the last one, "and Kate."

When one of the witches attempted to walk forward heading towards Y/n, Y/n stepped back.

"I thought you were a man at first," the witch named Nebula said, brushing a strand of her own hair over her ear. "I've never had a woman before. I heard they're great lovers, insatiable under the sheets."

"Now, come on, sis," Gamora appeared right beside her, invading the normie's personal space. "Don't be selfish. We can share." She brushes the collar of the tunic Y/n wore. "And two is better than one, if you know what I mean."

Y/n forced a nervous laugh as she ducked and quickly stepped away from their grasp to escape. "Excuse me, ladies," she said in a hurry as she pulled Yelena to the side, leaving a confused and glaring Kate behind.

"What are you doing?" Y/n hissed in a whisper. "We're just going to provide the supplies to Steve. And then we're done."

"Steve says it's fine. Plus, you need loosening up. And the witches like it, Y/n. They love pleasuring people as much as they get pleasure from it. It's not like a brothel—"

"I don't need loosening up."

"C'mon, Y/n," Yelena massaged Y/n's tense shoulders, "have a little bit of fun, we still have a spare time before Steve finishes the concoction he's making. And the sisters seemed nice."

Y/n and Yelena looked back behind them and the witches were already staring at them, smiling seductively.

"No," Y/n said firmly, shaking her head. She pulled Yelena with her as she led them to the shed where Steve was.

"You used to do these with me, Y/n."

"What? Galloping around brothels to brothels. We don't—"

"Okay, when you say it that way, it sounds worse."

Y/n only grew silent. Like a bulb lighting up inside Yelena's head, a smirk slowly spread on her face. "Wait, is this because of a certain witch waiting for us back home?"

Y/n's breath hitched. "What? No, it's not because of Wanda. She's just a friend."

Yelena only laughed, clapping her bestfriend's back. "See? I didn't even mention her name, yet you concluded it was her I was talking about."

Y/n's eyes suddenly widened, realizing her mistake. She couldn't think about how to protest against her accusations.

Thankfully, Steve came out of the shed, with a small burner and two vials containing a murky liquid in his hands. "Oh great, you're all here."

Yelena only groaned in annoyance, followed by Pietro, who was already wrapped around by Monica.

All of the excitement vanished the moment Steve led them inside the camp's own infirmary, where a few patients, witches and humans alike, were lying on bed, injured and immobile.

"What's wrong with them?" Yelena asked, pointing to a few barely moving, with bodies wrapped around in bloody bandages.

"The last mission they went to was horrendous. They barely made it out alive. Deviants had been brutal, their weapons laced with venom." He raised the vials he brought with him. "I have been making a serum to cure them, even just to lessen the pain they feel."

"Y/n got stabbed before," Yelena said. "But Pepper was able to heal her."

"Jane had tried all means." Jane was the healer in Steve's camp. They saw her busily tending to one patient at the corner, an old woman, who was groaning in pain. "That one over there, we rescued her from a carriage. She's an elder witch, a rare find in the eyes of a Deviant."

"Elder witch still exists?"

"In hiding." Steve nodded. "A few of them though. But I think she's dying along with other normies."

"Maybe, Pepper can help," Y/n suggested. "Maybe, she knows more spells."

WHEN THEY returned to the main camp later that day, Y/n immediately headed to Pepper's hut to ask her. It wasn't hard to convince the witch to help, but Y/n could see a moment of hesitation in Pepper's eyes. But she could just be imagining it.

Later that night during dinner, Pietro immediately shared some details about their visit — the famed enchantresses — to his friends. Eventually, it reached his sister's ears. Even Vision seemed interested, giving vague hints suggesting himself to volunteer for the next mission.

Wanda glanced at Y/n, who had her head down the entire conversation. She wondered if the blush on the human's face was of a seductress' doing. But she didn't stay long enough to find out.

Y/N ACCOMPANIED Pepper back to Steve's the very next day even when the sun had barely made it out of the horizon. They were disguised as men so as not to attract any passerby's attention, even when they knew no one was up at that time.

The disguise didn't work on Wanda, her eyes following Y/n's movements as the human arranged her hair in a tied bun underneath her cloak, keeping her hair inside. Y/n still looked like a beautiful woman in Wanda's eyes underneath all the clothing she wore. Wanda was blessed with a quick display of the human's sculpted stomach before she inserted her tunic into her trousers and fastened a belt around her waist. There was a moment when not a single thought crossed Wanda's mind but of Y/n's lean figure underneath her garments. A forced cough from Pepper brought her out of trance, making her cheeks red when she realized she was actually ogling over Y/n.

Wanda shrugged her silly thoughts aside, then stiffened when she suddenly remembered about the witches Pietro had shared to the group yesterday.

"Wait, I'm coming with you," she said, volunteering herself. Y/n could only furrow her brow in confusion but before she could complain, Pepper was already throwing Wanda another pair of men's clothings her way.

The moment was tense and silent when Wanda and Y/n rode on the back of the horse together, the witch sitting behind the human. The horse's stability made Wanda glad she wouldn't have to rely on holding unto Y/n. But when they encountered a tricky pathway, the sudden gallop made Wanda grip tight around the human's waist. She could hear Y/n laughing in front of her and when Y/n turned to look, asking if she was okay, there was a swift moment where Wanda savored the look of happiness on Y/n's face before she playfully slapped the back of her shoulder.

It took Y/n a second to calm herself down when Wanda slowly wrapped her arms around her stomach and stayed in that position for the remainder of the journey, her forehead or cheek sometimes pressed against the human's back. Y/n prayed the sound of the horses and surrounding noises from the early hours of the morning could hide the loud thudding of her own heart.

Wanda savored every second of it, grateful Pepper was riding ahead of them. She terribly missed the human. She missed the wonderful nights she had spent with Y/n and longed for them to happen again. Sometimes, she'd find herself leaning unto Y/n's back, breathing her in, treasuring her warmth, prolonging the feeling. Her mind filled with thoughts, pretending for just this moment that this was real, that Y/n has reciprocated her feelings.

No matter how amazing the ride was heading to the destination, Wanda still couldn't help but feel jealous when one camper immediately approached Y/n the moment they arrived in Steve's camp.

Pepper immediately went ahead, before someone blocked Y/n and Wanda, stopping their tracks.

"Hey, you came back," a female witch said, slowly approaching the two. Y/n waved and smiled at her. "Maybe we can continue where we left off yesterday. Luckily, my sister's still asleep, so I'll have you all to myself. Ohh, and you've brought a friend. How nice."

Consumed with inexplicable emotion close to rage, Wanda pulled Y/n away from the witch's grasp. "We're here on a mission, Y/n. We have no time for you to make sheep's eyes at."

Y/n eagerly followed Wanda, or let herself be dragged by her. "I'm not here for any of that."

"Yeah, lie all you want. But I can see it in your face."

"What? There's nothing on my face."

Wanda gave her a quick glare. "You're as red as a tomato."

Y/n scoffed. "I am not."

"Yeah, keep it in your trousers for the rest of the mission, maybe."

"What? You're being mental."

Wanda stopped walking, which made Y/n bumped into her back. She turned to face the human. She was about to open her mouth to retort but the close proximity between them suddenly rendered her speechless, her own heartbeat starting to race. Her line of vision drifted towards Y/n's lips, craving to have her thumb brush over the lower lip just to gain access, hoping she'd have the courage to taste Y/n and claim her.

Y/n wasn't faring much better; she could literally smell the wonderful alluring scent that she knew only the witch possessed. The closer they were, the more certain Y/n was in wishing she could just take Wanda, kiss her and make her her own.

When Pepper called out for them to follow her to the infirmary, they jumped apart in an instant.

"What took you so long?" Pepper asked the moment the two entered the tent.

Wanda let out an annoyed sigh. "This one right here is a philanderer."

"It's not true," Y/n immediately said. "I barely even talked to Nebula."

"Oh, Nebula, the girl has a name. And for your awareness, you were this close to bedding with her." She demonstrated the length of the distance by her thumb and forefinger, showing only more or less an inch.

"This is outrageous. We're not even standing that close. And I didn't even acknowledge her advances."

"You smiled at her."

"I was being courteous."

"What a load of rubbish! Courteous or aroused?"

"Stop arguing like a married couple," Pepper said, breaking them apart. "Some of the patients are still resting."

Wanda immediately stepped away from Y/n as she calmed herself down, her arms crossed over her chest. Pepper was partly right. She was acting like a jealous wife, when she had no right to any of Y/n's business. Y/n could literally have any of the witches outside and Wanda shouldn't care. Fuming, she walked towards the end of the tent.

When Wanda passed by one of the bed, the occupant, an old frail woman, suddenly bolted upright and pulled her wrist, surprising her.

"You."

Wanda looked behind her before turning back as she stared at the woman in confusion. "Me?"

"You're the offspring of Iryna Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch."

Wanda glanced at Y/n, Pepper and some witch she could assume was the healer of the camp, who were still discussing about the spells, not noticing their interaction. She turned back to the injured woman and nodded.

The woman's pupils were suddenly gone; her grasp on Wanda's wrist becoming tighter each second that passed.

"Be wary;

Not everyone is what they portray to be;

To end the great war between flying foxes and soaring eagles,

A red spider lily will come after the devil's kin."

Then the woman collapsed on her bed, her body shaking violently. The healer and Pepper immediately ran to the patient's aid while Y/n towards Wanda.

Y/n held Wanda's hand. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Wanda couldn't reply, her eyes widening at the scene before her.

The woman eventually stopped moving. The healer Jane checked her pulse. After a moment, she let out a sigh.

"She's dead," Jane announced.

Author's note:

Follow me on my social media accounts. Thank you. ❤ Facebook : loggiepj | https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089779552892&mibextid=ZbWKwL Instagram : loggiepj | https://instagram.com/loggiepj?igshid=NDk5N2NlZjQ= Twitter : loggiepj | https://twitter.com/loggiepj?t=EiFoKQyY1L-HCAMkBV2qCg&s=09

Taglist :

@bibliophilicbi @swiftie1-0-1 @whitewidowsbite @aliherreraaa @smromanoff @wandanats-goodgirl @supaheroine @eliii1sblog @bananasplits-world

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda angst #short prompt #enemies to lovers #elizabeth olsen

153 notes · View notes