#which is probably a good thing! considering he wont always be able to go to his brothers with everything that happened | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

domoz · 1 year ago

Text

An attempt at a Hikaku/Itama thing that I just can't seem to get past a block on. so i'm turning it over to you.

The Uchiha clan has every right not to trust outsiders with their health. Unfortunately, the Senju have healing techniques worth risking it for. Even more unfortunately, the injury Hikaku had taken to his left arm had been noticed, and even worse than that, the Hokage had suggested it would be a show of good faith for him to go to the hospital that his clan has taken charge of running. And Madara had agreed.

So now here he is, tense and nervous in a waiting room chair because just the act of being here is a signal of weakness that no shinobi should ever willingly send. The long stares and flustered glances of the people manning the intake desk haven't helped improve his mood

"Ah, Uchiha-san?" A vaguely familiar voice calls.

Hikaku looks up and locks eyes with one Senju Itama, who is one of the most immediately recognizable people in the entire village despite the fact that his reputation is entirely shadowed by his brothers'. Dual colored hair is swept up in a high bun, though some fly-aways have started to pull loose, and a few larger strands dangle loose around his ears. He's in a doctor's coat, but there's nothing on him to indicate that he pretty much runs the building.

The head of the hospital probably doesn't need to see him for a broken arm and dislocated shoulder, but perhaps this is just the good faith he's supposed to be offering being returned.

The Senju gives him a small smile, "If you're ready, I can see you now."

Hikaku nods, hiding a grimace of pain in the collar of his battle coat as he pushes himself to his feet and follows. Instinct has him examining the back so easily offered to him. There are no obvious weapons, but there's no way Itama doesn't have something on him. Medic types tend to go for senbon, which are easy to hide -- besides that, the Senju may be the shortest in his family, but he still has a good few centimeters on Hikaku and a not insignificant amount of muscle. With his broken arm, Hikaku would be at a significant disadvantage if they got into a brawl.

…Which is not going to happen, Hikaku tiredly reminds himself. Because it would cause a political incident, which would negate the whole point of him coming here. And because Senju Itama, from everything he has seen and heard, is as mild mannered as they come, and is also holding the door to an exam open for him. The look on his face is somewhere between the compassion Hashirama might wear and Tobirama's analytical gaze. Hikaku ignores it and walks into the room, arm twinging in pain as his muscles reflexively tighten as he hears the door close behind him.

"You can sit on the table there, Uchiha-san." Itama says softly. He's gotten a clipboard from somewhere and is already marking down notes on it. "Is there anything else besides the break and dislocation?"

Hikaku seriously considers lying for a moment, because he wants to be out of here as soon as possible, but good medics always seem to be able to tell that sort of thing and make your life hell for trying.

"Just some minor bruises and scrapes." Hikaku grits out, hoping that wont extend the time he's kept here even longer.

Itama hums and makes another note before looking up to make eye contact again -- which Hikaku only now registers as unusual. Most Senju still don't.

"Well, we'll deal with the worst first. Are you alright with me using a medical technique to examine your arm?"

Hikaku blinks, and Itama waits expectantly. He had been assuming thats was where this was going -- after all, what was the point of coming here if not to experience those techniques. He's not sure if he's actually being given a choice, but the illusion of one still feels kind enough to unwind some of the tension that had been building and making his shoulder ache even worse. He exhales.

"What exactly would that entail?"

The corner of Itama's eyes crinkle. Rather than upset at being questioned, he looks pleased.

"I would use my chakra in a series of specific highly compact sensory bursts to determine the severity and nature of the damage, which is painless and non-invasive. After that, if you're willing, I would use another technique to directly stimulate the regrowth and repair of injured cells. I can also temporarily reduce the pain your nerves are transmitting as well."

Hikaku mostly knows the words he's just heard, but that all seems very…

Well it seems like it's something that no one should casually admit to being able to do, which is to say that it seems very Senju.

"…How does the recovery time compare to letting it heal the natural way?"

Itama smiles at him, one cheek dimpling.

"I'd have to see the damage more specifically, but for bone breaks full recovery tends to take about half the time, and for minor fractures most people leave clear to go back to light duty."

Which means that it's way too useful to pass up on, no matter how dubious Hikaku feels about the matter.

"Alright." Hikaku agrees, "That sounds… Good."

Itama only nods. "I have to touch you for this as well. Are you alright with that?"

Hikaku can't decide if he's thankful or annoyed that he keeps asking. He thins his lips and nods.

"You can tell me to stop at any time." Itama says. He steps closer, telegraphing his movements like he knows the proximity has set Hikaku's heart thundering. If he'd had time to rest before coming here, perhaps he wouldn't be so paranoid, but he hadn't, so Hikaku watches warily and braces as Itama's hands light up a soft mind green and reach towards him.

…It doesn't hurt.

Izuna has been through this before, and he had described the feeling as being overwhelming. Like drowning in someone else's chakra, and hideously painful and uncomfortable. Granted, his wound had been far more severe, but it had set Hikaku up with a certain expectation that's not being met.

The foreign chakra brushes across his senses feather-light and almost cooling. The pain of the break fades to a dull ache, and then, slowly, to nothing at all.

"This may be a bit unpleasant." Itama warns him, and Hikaku braces for what is mostly nothing. The cool sensation grows until it's mildly uncomfortable, but not more than that. It's like a chilly winter wind that saps away all the warmth, but it never starts hurting, not even when Itama slowly lifts his arm to pop the joint back into place. The longer it goes on the more Hikaku feels the tension leech out of his shoulders. Pain relief so instant and without any apparent side effects is… Nice.

Itama steps back, looking Hikaku over with a critical eye.

"Take care to watch for inflammation and take it easy for the next few days, but you should be fine. The break was clean. Do you want me to heal the smaller things as well? Or I can bandage them up to heal the slow way."

"I…" Hikaku almost rejects the offer on reflex, but now that what is presumably the worst is over he feels a little silly over how worried he was. If he's already taking the easy way, why should he stop now? "Yes, if you don't mind."

Itama nods and reaches out again, seemingly already aware of where the worst of the cuts and bruises are.

"Thank you." Hikaku finds himself blurting, "For -- this. I've been impolite, but you've been very accommodating."

Itama smiles again, but he doesn't look up from where he's focused on Hikaku's other hand -- numbing the sting of a scrape so minor Hikaku hadn't even realized it was there until the pain was gone.

"You're welcome, Uchiha-san. And don't worry, you've been a model patient. You wouldn't believe how hard it can be to get people to just sit still sometimes."

Maybe that's not surprising; shinobi are a jumpy bunch at the best of times and being injured only makes it worse. He can use himself, today, as the perfect example of that. He resists the urge to duck his head.

"Well… I'm sure that once people know how useful this is it'll get easier." Hikaku honestly means it, too. Because he's fine -- coming off one of the worse missions he's ever had --certainly the worst in recent memory-- and he's going to go home tired and fine.

"…You'd think that, but sometimes I have trouble convincing people who have grown up with the option to use it." Itama sighs, resigned or amused, Hikaku doesn't know him well enough to tell, and continues his work, chakra easing the strain in his muscles and fading bruises to pale yellow.

"…Actually." Itama says after a moment, pulling his hands away, "Do you think if we taught more people how these techniques work, it would make them more willing to use them? I don't really know how else to encourage it short of forcing it."

…Like Hikaku basically had been, though he's not certain if Itama knows that or not. That aside --

"Oh, I...I think so, yes. I men, it's a trust thing right now, isn't it? And the more people who know how to heal like that, the more likely it is that someone who needs help will know someone who can do it."

More practically, Hikaku is pretty sure that the number of Uchiha who have managed to get that technique to work for them in all of the history he knows is in the single digits. There's clearly some secret to it that the sharingan can't copy. If Itama is willing to share even a fraction of it, the clan needs to know. Or-- the village does. Both, since that's the same thing, now.

"That is…" Itama steps back, "A good point. And I think I'm all done here, so you're free to go, Uchiha-san."

"Oh. Thank you." Hikaku slides off the table, rolls his shoulders and test his muscles. There's the burn of exhaustion, but compared to how he'd come in, it's like a miracle.

"Of course." Itama smiles at him again, "Come back any time."

#oops! no writing tag #naruto blog for naruto things #itama is not mild mannered btw #if this was a full fic hikaku would learn that itama can manipulate his brothers into doing anything he wants #anyways this brought to you by me learning that itama/hikaku only has a singular fic on ao3 #sorry i lost track of my brain and forgor how to write immediately after

29 notes · View notes

wickdcreatures · 10 months ago

Text

@ohfiendangelical sent me THIS post: Character development questions for trans and gender diverse muses, specifically to answer questions for Salem. I originally thought about reblogging and having yall ask me the questions but i decided i would just answer them all in one go because i think these questions would be really fun to understand about him SO!!! HERE GOES NOTHING

TW: gender dysphoria and transphobia

How does your muse describe their own identity? Do they use a different label or describe themselves differently depending on who's asking?

He doesn’t much like the labels — trans man feels too limiting, nonbinary masc presenting is probably the closest but still doesn’t quite hit the mark. He isn’t super well versed into other form of gender on the spectrum so he hasn’t looked into anything else — so for the most part he defaults to trans male, which he doesn’t proclaim from the mountaintops nor does he keep a secret. He will tell those who ask him with no shame, but he’s also not about to start a conversation with it (unless in an appropriate situation ie a queer centric meetup or something like that)

How does your muse most enjoy dressing, when they feel at ease to present however they like? Is this different to how they present most of the time?

He just likes dressing alternative. Probably best described as goth punk. And punks wear whatever the fuck they want, so for the most part he feels comfortable in almost everything these days — the most comfortable thing for him to wear is a larged oversized hoody and maybe a nice pair of nineties straight leg jeans — bagger clothes always feel safer.

How does your muse handle feeling dysphoric or insecure in their appearance?

When that dysphoria be hitting he will have a good, long cry about it. He isnt so insecure that he will try to cover the mirrors in his house but he certainly wont be looking in them. How he tries to get OUT of that dysphoric slump is to emulate those he thinks are “peak masculinity” in his eyes. His favorite actors and musicians, or friends he knows that fit the bill of his perfect, idealized version of masculinity.

Did your muse's orientation or way of feeling attracted to others shift with their gender identity?

Absolutely not. Hes very comfortable with the fact he is so into just about everyone LMAO

What was the moment your muse first realized (or began to realize) their gender roles didn't match up with who they were or wanted to be?

It was slow and gradual for him. He lived a very sheltered childhood, only allowed to spend time with very specific people that his dad deemed “worthy” and he wasnt allowed much in the way of internet access so he wasnt able to stumble upon the labels of it until he was in high school and thoroughly embroiled in his “tomboy” era.

Is there someone your muse considers a "gender icon" or aspires to be like?

@skullfck and @ohfiendangelical both actually. Salem thinks that if you mix those two together (NOT PERSONALITY ABSOLUTELY NOT PERSONALITY THIS IS ALL LOOKS AND VIBES) that would make the perfect man. Absolute gender god. He wishes to achieve that some day LMAO

What does your muse's ideal example of their gender look like? Eg. "the ideal man" and so on.

Strong, brave, willing to embrace femininity (as that is a very important part of the human experience to him since he was so embroiled in it and also for religious reasons), if we are also talking PHYSICAL then like. Prominent adams apple. BOY HANDS????? This is a long and very complicated question and i might get back to this on another post sometime but for the most part he thinks he has reached his ideal in many ways, but of course there is always room for improvement

Have the people in your muse's life been more of a support or a hindrance in them exploring or coming out and/or learning about themselves?

Save for his brother, his family wasnt understanding, they were anti-med in general so he wasnt able to begin his medical transition until after he left home and moved up to san francisco. NOW, however, he is very lucky to be around people who love and encourage him <3

Talk about a key moment in your muse's journey towards becoming their more ideal self.

Changing his name was really hard for him because his mom was the one that gave it to him, and he had just freshly lost her around the time he decided to go through with it. Not only did changing his name really feel like a turning point where he was fully embracing the fact that he is trans and that this is who he is, but it was also a way to distance himself from his family.

Is your muse confident in their identity? Still questioning? Is there anything that ever makes them feel doubtful about themselves?

His confident that he is masculine, but he thinks his very personal definition of “man” might very strongly differ from those who identify as a man themselves. But at the end of the day, he thinks thats just the nature of gender. Hes comfortable in that.

Does your muse consider themselves out and proud, or would they rather live their life quietly and unnoticed?

OUT AND PROUD BABY he wears his scars visibly a lot, like you can see them through mesh shirts or popping out of the bottom of a crop top or something, and like i said before he has no problem telling people.

What very personalized piece of advice would your muse give, either to their younger self or to someone else just beginning to explore who they are?

if youre questioning your gender identity in any way, chances are you arent as cis as you think. and thats okay! down with cis!(jokingly) lmao

Is there a seemingly gender-unrelated thing that gives your muse a feeling of gender euphoria? (Eg. an activity outside of the usual societally gender-coded ones that they associate with their gender for some certain reason, an article of clothing that isn't specifically gendered but feels flattering or validating in some way, etcetera.)

Shirts like these, and having a SHIT ton of tattoos. Thats so gender to him

Did your muse experience a grieving process at the beginning of realizing their identity, or was the revelation wholly positive and affirming for them?

GOD YEAH. his dad very much made it seem like transness was inherently unnatural or just very rare — for the majority of his high school days he was told that it was just a phase, and for a while he really hoped that it was because he had a very hard time dealing with the disrespect and blatant misgendering from his family members. “If i were a girl like they tell me i’m supposed to be, this would all be easier and they wouldn’t be so disappointed” sorta thinking. Sometimes he still catches himself grieving, but for entirely different reasons now. Mostly because he feels robbed of a childhood as a boy, but then he remembers that as a child he was his most authentic self, really. Gender didnt matter then. He was him and thats what matters.

Did your muse feel like they had to "learn" how to perform their gender, or did they slip into the role naturally? Did they change much about their mannerisms or how they interact with the world, at all?

He tried for a bit to play the hyper masculine role when he first discovered his transness, most specifically to appeal to his families very dated and limited views on masculinity — but once he left and starts spending more time with flamboyant gay men and queer masc leaning individuals, he quickly fell back into what he was before. A healthy dose of masculine and feminine both, but the way he sees it — he’s just him.

#☽ salem — headcanon. ☾#☽ salem — musings. ☾#i love him so much. i love love love him #long af post under cut

3 notes · View notes

ooglywooglies · 4 months ago

Text

medical stuff 🔽

so recently we figured out that magically my top surgery is just covered (possibly, its technically unconfirmed but it seems likely) because my husband can dip into his retirement fund so we dont even need to go into debt or anything!

ive been processing it a bit because like, honestly ive been stressed out about this for a long time i was prepared to take up a frugality eating disorder, and we just weathered some really rough social stuff so we basically lost a lot of fundraising ability (which was already not looking good due to my disabling chronic pain) and yeah all of that is literally just melted away because of this fund we already had and didnt really know about. its superannuation and you normally cant use it before a certain age but if you have a good enough reason you can and saving my life turned out to be a good enough reason. ive been high and low about my emotions about it, sometimes angry because i wasted a lot of time and energy stressing and planning my own death about this shit but today im feeling the relief.

and anyway since we dont have to scrunch out budget or go into debt we can start thinking about other things we may want to do with our regular money and im considering that we may start looking into permanent forms of pregnancy prevention.

i would really like to get a hysterectomy, like a full everything outta there type deal because obviously giving birth is my literal actual worst nightmare, but getting pregnant isnt really safe either but its pretty expensive. and like, my uterus doesnt really give me that many problems. i still get my period but my doctor says itll probably stop soon, i get cramps but theyre not that bad i kind of just dont like the IDEA that its in there, but its fine if i have to put up with it yknow, its not like i have to see it every day.

so if were looking at just pregnancy prevention itd probably be a better idea to go either the tubal ligation or vasectomy route. i dont want to get an IUD because ive heard its painful, its not forever, it can move/slip, and i dont want to have something inserted into me like that. like i know im being a chicken but i really dont think im able to get something like that installed, i put off getting tested for hpv until literally this year bc i was too scared (luckily you can take your own sample now so i did get tested dw 👍)

tubal ligation is WAY more expensive than a vasectomy but the thing is, my body getting pregnant is the problem, and i dont know if my husband and i are always going to be together. i never want to get pregnant or give birth and i dont ever want to have kids but he thinks its possible he COULD potentially want kids, like wed just never have kids together. but if we broke up it wouldnt be off the table for him to have kids with someone else. so its like, one of these two options seems to be what we are left with, one is a lot easier to get but were not sure if we want to close that door forever (we know vasectomies are technically reversible but its not always 100% especially the more time that passes apparently)

so we have some thinking to do, weve been talking about this for awhile but we didnt think it was going to come up because the financial aspect of my top surgery was kind of a big obstacle

oh i just realized thisll take the load off pursuing a diagnosis/medication for my adhd since we wont have any debt, i wasnt gonna be able to put that off bc its pretty debilitating but i was really worried it was going to wreck out shit.

#trans text #a lot of talk about reproduction stuff #and some good news as well

0 notes

semi-imaginary-place · 1 year ago

Text

thoughts on unit builds 4: church and comparisons

For Byleth the intended progression is swords but besides swordsmaster, also consider assassin which sill has swordfaire but better movement. For Byleth Wyvern lord is a good choice (as it is with most physical units) good for high damage and flying. and if you aren't as player phase focused missing darting blow as a male unit isn't bad it's the same as any other male wyvern unit. On NG+ you can buy darting blow too I think(?) so its not that big a deal. Unlocking wyvern rider is a little annoying and usually involves some gambling but once you're in you should naturally be able to class into wyvern lord, and you can always broken weapon dodge grind if you're desperate. War master is always good too for male byleth. If you have dlc slap brawl avo and the chalice on him and send him to solo half the map. Byleth is pretty versatile and some of the exclusives like falcon or warmaster are pretty good Byleth would do fine in any physical class. Wyvern Lord compared to Falcon Knight gives up a tiny bit of spd for a lot more str and the str is waaaaay worth it. So if you want Byleth to be a flier Wyvern Lord is optimal.

Jerizta does well in any class really, he's really strong probably to compensate for getting him so late. He's also the only male unit (minus ng+ byleth) to get darting blow. Mastering death knight gives you counterattack at any range.

Trickster Manuela as it allows her to frontline which is where she can heal (no physic) and her personal actually works without dying while also allowing limited warp and silence. to address the other options: Having used Manuela as mortal savant she just dies, you have to hand feed her kills. I haven't used assassin Manuela much but I'm assuming levin sword/hexblade? yeah that could be decent with swordfaire giving up on warp though oof. Gremory is decent but grinding reason is a slog and it doesn't offer that much over Bishop so Bishop is probably the better choice actually.

Primarily trickster. This gives her steal and duelist's blow (+40? avo when attacking with swords) which helps her frontline survivability. The frontline is the only place she can heal and use her personal. You only get 1 warp but that usually all you need and you get so much utility in exchange. Manuela (like Ignatz) is a utility unit, she will never put out top damage and trickster capitalize on that utility by allowing her to frontline with good movement while still being able to cast spells.

Other options are bishop for more warp (but otherwise i dont find her very useful this is the easy way out but not really a good use for her), assassin for swordfaire (assassin has stealth d movement like trickster), or swordsmaster (this is risky as she wont have stealth). Could also do sword falcon for range+canto but eh no faire. I've heard of mortal savant but her survivability is also bad there and mortal savant tanks speed.

If you have ng+ and skill points to spare you can start doing interesting things. On maddening it can be pretty difficult to double or deal damage. Luckily Manuela has access to pegasus knight and darting blow one of the only ways to consistently double. Pick up fiendish blow from mage and maybe +2 mag from monk. Manuela may want to spend time in a magic class to keep up her mag stat if you want to do damage with her. If you can buy s+ swords she'll need it since her damage is low and her primary damage will be from hexblade and levin sword+. Dark flier is an option on ng+ but really only feasible if you've been training reason over multiple playthroughs. Gremory is great for bolting and warp, even if you dont use bolting the bonus from linked attacks in great but has an even higher reason req. If you're starting reason from scratch the reason classes aren't really worth it.

Edit: recommendations go TRICKSTER> assassin>> gremory (ng+ only), swordmaster, mortal savant> falcon, dark flier(ng+)> bishop. Hmm I guess you could also do war cleric for the brawl avo.

Probably the best agreed upon units/most broken are the Lords: Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude who are designed to be your carry units. Byleth and Felix are strong in part 1 but fall off in part 2 to become decent but not extraordinary. (And this is assuming you get them off of swords because swords suck on maddening). Units I personally like are Sylvain (reliable physical, free recruit for female Byleth, swiftstrikes), Hilda (excellent Wyvern and one of the few to get darting blow), Ferdinand (more swiftstrikes, can stick him on a wyvern and dodgetank ep pp vers), Leonie (crit QUEEN, great personal combat arts, does great with a bow).

All of you saying Lysithea is the most overpowered unit in golden deer but she has no enemy phase, in practice I find units like Hilda or Leonie to be more useful than her. And of course Claude like all lords was designed to be strong. Lysithea is one of the best mages (the other is Constance) but mages themselves have limitations, she's a glass canon so you're tactics have to revolve around keeping her alive. Bernadetta is good but she's not really better than the other archer line characters like Leonie and the thing about archer line is that anyone can make a half decent sniper because of the low stat thresholds.

If you want warp and bolting Manuela should be in gremory but grinding reason in a apin so efficiency wise Bishop is used to capitalize on warp. If you want to use her overall skill set and my personal favorite go trickster. Manuela has the highest spd in the game and roughly equal str and mag. Her personal only activates up close and she doesn't have long range healing. Trickster has stealth to keep her alive on the frontlines, duelist's blow + high spd means she never gets hit. Trickster was made for her more than Yuri.

Likewise Bishop is the cheap and easy way to go with Flayn. I don't bother with magic weapon builds usually because they're still inferior to axe combat arts and swift strikes while having a squishy unit that can't take a hit and can't use the versitility of magic. Falcon Flayn isn't very good she is only a damage dealer and there's better damage dealers out there (like Hilda). Dark flier if you want less damage but more range. Gremory if you want more damage and spell uses. Dancer if you aren't using her otherwise.

If you look at the abilities holy knight there's white tomefaire and Flayn doesn't even get damaging white magic besides the default nosferatu. Gremory has the highest mag stat boost and good growths but bad mov. Dark flier is the only flier magic class and best mobility but you take a damage penalty on flayn it's mostly for rescue shenanigans.

Dark knight hanneman might be best no one uses him because he's in contention for worst unit so good for you yes please use him. He does fine in warlock but the mov and canto of dark knight makes a difference. Teach him heal to make him more useful.

Manuela: enemy res is usually lower than enemy def so for equal mag/str units like Manuela you go for mag so a mix of magic weapons (levin sword) and magic combat arts. Manuela's main problem is her reason weakness. Try and get mage for fiendish blow if you can. She will never be a powerhouse unit instead Manuela (like Ignatz) is a utility unit. Level her reason just to D+ to gamble the mage cert then A faith for warp and get sword as high as possible as sword will be her main skill and where all ber combat arts are from. The lazy Manuela is just bishop for double warp. If you do her supports she's canonically a really good fencer. You can also switch her between bishop and trickster depending on what you need for the map. So priest (default), mage (ideal), trickster (or bishop if level 20 and sword isnt high enough yet while you work on sword). Also don't forget you can use swords while in bishop you just don't get the skill bonus. I don't quite remember but thief cert might be required for trickster, you sont need to master it just pass the test.

DO NOT put Catherine in mortal savant if you want a good unit. Mortal savant is for mages well actually this is the other class in contention for worst class in the game so it might be for no one except maybe Marianne. Catherine wants to be a war master so bad too bad it's gender locked. Meta is basically equally split between swordsmaster, assassin, and war cleric. The sword line in general is a spd str class line and units like Catherine and Felix are also str spd units (the irony being fist is also spd str and better at it than sword). However mortal savant slaps a massive -20% growth on speed. Mixed str mag builds in general suck in this game, fe3h rewards minmxing. Meta is actually to give thunderbrand to another unit but since this a church run do swordsmaster if you want crit and assassin for mobility.

Shamir is actually better at sniper but i have a soft spot for bow knight. Bow knight tanks your stats and offense in exchange for unparalleled reach like bow knight outranges every other class in the game so if you want to hit before the enemy and zoom around go bow knight. Sniper has the best class combat art in the game hunter's volley and one of the only ways to 1 round enemies on maddening, like on maddening bow knight often won't kill.

Cyril kinda gets screwed on SS. On most other routes (VW, AM) Cyril would be great as bow knight but because of the stat loss on SS he often won't kill on bow knight. Sniper has a lower effect stat threshold which is also why Shamir who has bad stats does well in it. Otherwise as the saying goes wyvern fixes everyone between excellent growths and excellent mobility. You're choice you want reach go bow knight, you want low investment go sniper, you want power, better stats, and mobility go wyvern.

#fe3h

1 note · View note

inkovert · 2 years ago

Note

Hey it's 🌌🧭! [Side note: Do you say the emojis when you read or do you skip over them as like a name?]

I just want to start by saying your writing holds such a good emotional weight to it, I really love the way you string together dialogue the part were Jeremy said "You’re grieving. We both are. We just do it in different ways.” actually made me begin to tear up a bit. I just wanted to let you know since I know how important hearing from readers is.

I also really want to know what podcast it is, I personally have been listening to Unresolved Textual Tension a lot recently. Seeing others talk about things that bother them in writing makes me want to write.

To answer your question Alchemist are part of The Society of Scholars and could lose their right to preform magic if found out to be going against the rules. However they can repent in a way by washing in cold water and taking an extra hour of studying.

This was a smaller project I was working on with a friend and in it the main alchemist character has spent months in a foreign land learning all about the different ways they handle magic as well as collecting books to bring back. In one moment he brushes hands with someone and shivers really badly so I'd say that is the main reaction. Though by the time he goes to leave he's made great friends with someone, and knows he probably wont see her again so he gives her a goodbye hug for the first and last time.

Random and completely unrelated however, I got a fortune cookie and it made me think of you. Not the fortune itself but I guess the idea that even the littlest of things could be a story.

Have a good day 📎

Hello again ☺️ (I skip over the emojis as I read them as if they're a singular symbol representing a name haha....I don't even think I know what that first emoji is. stars? all this time I thought it was a heart rate monitor oops).

Anon. I just want to say I am deeply deeply grateful for you coming into my ask box and sharing your thoughts on that excerpt I posted - I wasn't expecting that at all! Because you are right, hearing from readers is super important. But it is especially meaningful to me bc I've been considering lately whether or not I want to stay on writeblr for various reasons. Lack of feedback is really only like 5% of the reason, if that, but receiving any kind of interaction or thought about my story makes me tip back toward hanging on a bit longer.

That said, I'm glad - not that I made you tear up per se haha - but that the excerpt moved something within you. That's really my main goal with my writing since many authors have had that same impact on me with their writing. And so to see that I'm succeeding with that is always great to hear ☺️ (also I feel dialogue is my strongest writing skill so your compliment of that made me especially smile).

Oh! Haha. Re the podcast it wasn't one talking about writing in any way (although now I have to check out that podcast you just plugged 👀). It's just two black women talking about their personal life/opinions on things that affect them as black women. And around the same time as I was listening to that podcast I was reading a black romance novel that just...severely disappointed me, which has been the case with a lot of books in that specific genre for me. Romance is not my go-to genre by any means in terms of reading or writing, I typically just read it if I want something light or am in a slump (as I currently am). And so, in the vein of what you brought up last time of being able to find stories anywhere, the combined experience of hearing black girls (specifically a dark-skinned black woman) talk about their struggles with romance/finding partners and this disappointing book just drove me to write a black love story out of spite, specifically one centered around a dark-skinned black woman. So that's what I'm working on now unfortunately (I say unfortunately as a joke bc I really never thought this would actually manifest into something. I've never been able to write or think up a true story outside of my wip SCIF. But apparently this is happening so. Yeah. Truly tragic).

Aw that poor Alchemist ): I can't imagine not being able to show physical affection to a friend who I love dearly. Also their lifestyle sounds very monastic, makes me wonder if there's a religious element infused in there or that you draw inspiration from.

#🌌🧭Anon #not me thinking that first symbol was a heart monitor...how very med school of me #also the fact that the fortune cookie made you think of me is sweet 🥰#will forever associate that phrase with you anon - the littlest things could be a story #asks

0 notes

darlingmunsons · 3 years ago

Text

SFW Alphabet: Daryl Dixon

Template credit here

This is my first ever daryl fic so go easy on me lol, please let me know if you enjoyed this and feel free to send me any requests if you’d like to see me write anything, and if this gets good feedback maybe I’ll write a NSFW alphabet next!! Thank you!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

It depends on his relationship with you, before the relationship almost completely unaffectionate but as your relationship blossoms he would definitely be more comfortable.

I think it would be shown in more subtle touches than grand gestures of affection. In public he would always choose to take a seat next to you or stand next to you if the moment allows it and then using that for small brushes of your fingers together, shoulder to shoulder, the furthest he would go would probably be a hand on your lower back or pressing a quick kiss to the back of your hand he’s holding when he thinks the others aren’t looking.

In private I think he would be a lot more forward, not having to worry about the attention from others I think it would become a lot more obvious that our big archer is possibly touch starved. An arm around your shoulder, kissing you any chance he gets, hugs, lots of hugs, big tight bear hugs with your head pressed perfectly under his chin almost like you were made to fit there, soft kisses added to your crown. Pulling you close to him when you’re not quite in reach to hold his hand. LOVES when you lay on his chest in bed, the full weight of your body on top of his is one of his greatest pleasures in this shitty word.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think the friendship would start through admiration, you admiring his loyalty and protectiveness over the group and him learning to admire the same things about you.

I think it would take him a little long to warm up to you than you to him. He’s incredibly guarded and doesnt want to risk getting let down but once he realises you’re going to be around for the long haul he’d start letting himself see what a good person you are, how quick you are to put everyone else above you, the way youre always everyones shoulder to cry on even when you don’t necessarily have the energy to be, then he realises he wants to be that for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yes!

As mentioned in ‘A’, he loves when you lay on his chest, the weight if you becomes so comforting to him.

He also loves spooning you, having you tucked into his body and being able to completely wrap his arms around you to keep you safe, its comfortable and practical. He’s also not completely opposed to being little spoon, on bad days when he might not even want to talk the feeling of your whole body pressed against his back is just enough to keep him going, he probably wont ever admit it but he likes when you make him feel safe and when it feels like you’re protecting him.

Also enjoys laying face to face, sharing a pillow, arms over each-others waists. Whether you’re asleep or awake he loves being able to study every inch of your face, the soft fuzz covering your cheeks and jaw, the shape of your nose to the dip of your cupids bow, even the old scars from your teenage acne to the new scars from the new world. He just loves your face and being able to trace his finger lightly over the details.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Before meeting you settling down was the last thing on his mind, after meeting you and developing your relationship he would definitely want to settle down. He couldn’t ever see himself being with anyone else and wouldn’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t see it ever being a discussion of settling down i think it would just casually happen which both of you prefer.

Considering the state of the world you both know certain domestic traits aren’t important in one another, but once you’ve settled down in Alexandria and have a safe place to share, house work would definitely be equal, i think daryl would cook less just because he’s the hunter in the couple so once he’s back from hunting you’d probably offer to cook for the both of you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I can’t see him ever being the person to end a relationship, he loves you too much to even ever considering breaking up with you.

But for the sake of the question I think the only way he’d ever end your relationship would be if he thought you could be better off without him, maybe a situation arises where he knows you’d be safer without him then he would end the relationship. I think despite him not being good with expressing his emotions he’d be gentle with you, explain everything clearly because he knows it’s what you deserve.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I think after meeting you he’d be more open to the idea of marriage but you both know it’s not the most important thing in this world, as long as you’re both together, married or not, that enough for him.

But if the opportunity came around I definitely think he would marry you, I think it would be super subtle and maybe not even include the group in the actual marriage itself. It would be a case of ‘do you want to get married’ and you both agreeing on it and from there you would consider each other as spouses.

When it comes to jewellery he would definitely make you a ring, just a simple band nothing that can get caught on anything, maybe sculpted from a piece of wood or welded from a piece of metal, a scrap from his motorbike maybe. The rings would probably be how the group would find out, once you’d confirmed their questions they would give a quick congratulations knowing daryl wasn’t one for a fuss, I do think Carol would organise something small, just a meal with your closest friends and family.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite his rough exterior, physically he is the most gentle with you that you have to remind him he’s not going to break you.

Emotional he would be as gentle as he knows how. He’s not great at expressing his emotions so while he tries to be gentle with you he has his moment. He’s quick to get defensive and snaps faster than he’d like but as soon as he realises he’s upset you he’s quick to try to fix things and apologise.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes! Daryl loves hugs but only really from you and the occasional one from his closest friends.

When you’re alone in a safe space he’s always hugging you, he’s definitely the type to follow you if you leave the room, he definitely could be considered clingy by some people but you love him like that.

He would definitely be a bear hugger, he hugs with his entire body, his arms wrap you up completely and he likes to bury his head into your neck and breathe in your scent, or having your head under his chin so he can press soft kisses to your hair.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would take him a while, he’d be nervous about putting his feelings out there incase you didn’t feel the same way.

He’d only say the words when he was absolutely sure you felt the same way. But he would show his love in other ways before that, bringing you home a candy bar he found, cooking the occasional meal when he knows you’ve had a bad day, taking you to a field of flowers he thinks you’d like that he briefly drove past on a run.

It might take him a while to actually say the words but he knows you know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He would get super jealous really quick. I imagine him to be the type to get jealous over a man even looking at you a certain way, not in a toxic possessive way but in an insecure way.

No matter how long you’d been together he’d always doubt himself and whether or not he’s good enough for you, he thinks you deserve the world and then some and he’s worried he’s not giving you that so when he sees someone else giving you attention he can’t help but think they could be better for you, that’s where his jealous stems from.

You’d always be quick to reassure him though, letting him know it’s him and only him which definitely helps his insecurities.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

In the beginning of your relationship his kisses are soft, light and a little tentative. You don’t get a lot of alone time so it takes him a while to figure out what it is you like. Once you’ve been together a while his kisses would become surer, he’s not afraid to really press his lips to yours, your face cupped in his hands.

Other than your lips he would love to press kisses to the top of your head and the back of your hand. He would love when you press kisses to his chest when you’re laying on him, and he would love when you press a kiss to the crown of his head or forehead not that he would ever admit to that.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s amazing with kids, every time he’s with Judith you swear your heart melts. He would do anything for those kids and it’s one of the things you love most about him.

As for kids of your own I think neither of you would be desperate for your own, you know it’s not exactly practical with the world you’re in. Maybe if you’d met before the turn you’d have considered it more but you are both happy with how your relationship is and don’t have a specific preference for kids.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Most mornings you don’t spend a lot of time together, there’s usually a lot to get done around whatever community it is you’re calling home but neither of you start the day without a kiss, even if the other is asleep you always make sure to press a kiss to their head or cheek.

Any mornings that are spent in a safe space with no plans are always perfect, they’d start really slow with not a rush in the world. You’d spend as much time in bed together as possible either talking nonsense or basking in the comfortable silence before deciding to make a move and start with the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights that you’re both home are probably the closest thing you’d both consider a date. I imagine he would like to cook together and have a sit down meal, I think he’d even go to the effort of lighting a couple of candles and pouring a small glass of whatever alcohol is available, if it’s available.

Then it’d move to the sofa where you’d both spend the evening just relaxing and talking about anything and everything. If you can, I think you’d both enjoy a card game occasionally after daryl found an almost undamaged pack of cards on one of his runs, keeping it a secret from the others so he could just share something with you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take a long time for him to start revealing things about himself, especially in any relation to his unfortunate childhood. You’d seen a glimpse of his scars peaking out of his sleeveless shirts a few times but you never question it which he appreciates a lot, you’d wait for him to tell because you know he hates to be emotionally vulnerable.

When you’re finally in an established relationship I think would be when he would open up more and share stories of his childhood. He definitely wouldn’t tell you everything at once and would take his time opening up but you’re willing to wait as long as you can for him and he loves you for that.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s never easily angered at you because he knows you’d never do anything to purposely hurt him but he would be so quick to anger when it was about you.

Whether that be someone’s hurt you or even spoke rudely to you or about you, he would not hesitate in getting angry. He wants to do everything he can to protect you and if that means throwing a few, maybe unnecessary, fists he will. Though he knows you are perfectly capable of looking after yourself that doesn’t stop his hot headedness getting the best of him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything about you, literally everything. He uses the things you tell him as ways to show he loves you.

Like telling him you’re favourite type of flower those first few months you met, now years later he’ll go out of his way to bring you some home. The specific type of cookie your grandmother makes for you, he’d ask carol to try her best to bake you some for your birthday. He remembers everything you tell him because when you talk to him he’s so invested in you it’d be hard for him to ever forget the little things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Personally, I think it’d be the moment you both said I love you. You might’ve known you loved each other before but saying those words just cemented everything for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s the most protective person you’ve ever met, over you and everyone else. He’d go to the ends of the world to protect the people he loves. He would die if it meant saving you and you’d do the same for him.

I think he’d like to be protected more than he’d ever admit. While he’s not the most vocal he’s not oblivious to the way you speak up for him if anyones ever out of line and he appreciates that more than he could ever express to you. You’re not afraid to use your words especially when it comes to Daryl.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

With it being the middle of a zombie apocalypse I don’t think either of you fuss much with dates and anniversaries. I do think he would try his best to do something every once in a while, just to show you that he does care about that small stuff but only because it’s you and he loves you more than he could ever express.

You’re not entirely sure of the exact date but Eugene keeps a rough calendar that he follows so he knows when it’s your birthday, even if it’s just to get you a pretty flower or a cheap piece of jewellery he found that he thinks you’d like. He’s also handy with a tool and will make you gifts, other than your wedding rings he would probably make you little trinkets if he found the time, those would be the gifts you cherish the most.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His short temper is definitely not something he’s proud of, especially if it’s aimed your way, which is extremely rare.

He’s also not a fan of the fact he smokes, he wishes he could go without it but sometimes it’s a quick fix for the stresses in the world.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not very concerned about the way he looks, he would definitely try every once in a while if he had a date planned but other than that, vanity isn’t a necessity.

It doesn’t matter much to you, you love him for him and he’ll always be the most handsome man you’ve ever known and won’t be shy in telling him that.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Before meeting you he never thought much of feeling whole but once he had you he couldn’t imagine himself without you.

You’re the only constant joy in his life. You’re his whole heart and a life without isn’t a life worth living in his opinion. He doesn’t know how he ever coped before you and he never wants to find out.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I think even though he’s a really serious person, when he’s completely comfortable with someone he’s actually really funny.

He would enjoy making people, especially you, laugh. He would have an easy, comedic back and forth banter with people he’s comfortable with, would definitely lightheartedly tease the little things. The first time he realises you cant reach a top shelf thats it, expect a life time of short jokes even if you’re not short.

Also for a little extra extra one I think he could be really romantic when he wants to be but only if you promised to never tell anyone, he’s got his tough guy reputation to uphold after all.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I really think he’d dislike selfish people, as someone who lives his life for everyone else, selfishness is a huge no, whether it be a romantic relationship or a friendship.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Daryl’s known by everyone to not sleep much, he’s a man that’s always wired, even before the world turned he could run on only a couple hours of sleep. He finds it hard to relax fully, knowing there’s always a chance of danger even when he does sleep, he’s a very light sleeper.

Any nights that he sleeps through full are nights he spends with you in a safe place, next to him or preferable on his chest. You make him feel safe and he allows himself those few hours of real relaxation, if not for you he’d probably never sleep fully through the night.

—

Thank you to @theteasetwrites for the help on this, if you’ve not already checked out their work please do!!!

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #sfw alphabet

286 notes · View notes

valdomarx · 4 years ago

Text

“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

#PLEASE ENJOY THIS HOLIDAY ROMCOM NONSENSE #i am feeling festive and also sappy #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

2K notes · View notes

lazyliars · 4 years ago

Text

The Quackity Meta: a Tale of Two Absolutes

More than anything else, Quackity wants control, and to never, ever lose his own autonomy. And that is why he despises Technoblade.

But wait, how is Technoblade a threat to Quackity's autonomy? Techno is all for individual freedom! He wants to eradicate the government so that no one can be controlled!

There's the question though... How do people exercise control within the framework of a video game like m/inec/raft?

“a person exercising power or control in a cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary way.”

Power on the Dream SMP cannot be translated one-to-one with real life power. In real life, yes, a government had infinitely more power than an individual, for numerous reasons. But on the Dream SMP, the government's power is always directly tied to the power of the individuals who are willing to defend that power.

Technoblade is powerful. This is not debatable. How he uses this power, historically, has been a mix of generosity and self-interest*, although primarily the latter.

Generously, He gains resources and then distributes them to his allies during the Pogtopia Rebellion, gearing everyone up and giving them a fighting chance against Dream. However, in the aftermath of Tubbo's being appointed president, Techno turns on them, swiftly and mercilessly. The moment that it becomes clear** that Pogtopia's interests don't align with his own, he crushes them with the aim to prevent them from ever recovering.

( *I use self-interest as a neutral term here. Everyone on the SMP is selfish to some extent – it doesn't make them evil, and in fact has been treated as a positive at times, as well as a negative.

**I want to note that whether or not Technoblade knew of Pogtopia's goal of reinstating the government is unclear. It would seem that from Techno's POV that he didn't know, or assumed that it was a minority who wanted another government. But on the other hand, no one was actively lying to him about their intent, and people like Tommy and Quackity made their goals very clear. Further doubt is cast on the idea that Techno had no idea when you take into account that he enchanted the Netherite armor in the vault with worthless enchants like Fire Res.

Ultimately, there's no way to know until it is confirmed by cc!Techno himself, and it doesn't pertain that much to this analysis, but I'm aware that it's a hotly debated topic so I wanted to address it.)

It can be argued that Techno's destruction of L'manberg, both the first and especially the second time, was necessary. It can also be argued that it was cruel and a disproportionate retribution against both culpable and innocent parties. Extant of these arguments however, how does it feature into control?

Well, we can’t talk about control without mentioning the most controlling force on the server and the other person on Quackity's hitlist, Dream.

Dream is a tyrant. I don't think anyone can really make an argument against that in good faith at this point. He ticks off every box, no matter how vague or esoteric. This makes the interactions that Quackity and Techno have with him very interesting.

Quackity despises Dream. He's one of the earliest adopters of the hating-Dream-train, to the point that some people have compared him to Cassandra, a priestess who was cursed with the vision of prophecies that would always be true, but never believed. And indeed, Quackity's apprehension of Dream comes in as early as Pogtopia, and grows at a steady pace after the fact.

But despite his rightfully calling out Dream's hypocrisies and his controlling tendencies, Quackity was largely ignored on this front, especially when the time came to exile Tommy and Quackity basically predicted the next arc – If they gave Dream this concession, they would never be able to get out from under his thumb. Flash forwards to the Green Festival, and the moment Tubbo hands over the discs, any illusion of nicety drops and Dream proceeds to destroy them, side by side with...

Technoblade has always had an amiable relationship with Dream. From their first proper interaction on the server being Dream giving Techno some hefty resources, to their snap team-up on Doomsday, they've had a smooth time, with some notable bumps.

Techno fought against Dream during the Pogtopia rebellion, but when it became clear that Dream was more invested in chaos than his other allies, Techno temporarily allied with him to summon the Withers and drive the nail deeper into Manberg’s coffin.

The only time Techno has really bothered to challenge Dream directly is when he came for Tommy in exile. Techno went to great lengths to protect Tommy, hiding him and distracting Dream.

He did give Dream the option to call in his favor and take Tommy, but there are arguments to be made that he did this more as a challenge – that Tommy is worth the favor. Again, we probably wont ever know.

The difference in their relationships with Dream is polarizing. It also reflects the difference in personality – Quackity is an aggressive, ambitious person, whereas Techno leans more towards passivity and caution. Quackity is looking for enemies to challenge, where Techno is avoiding them, people who actually stand a chance against him most of all.

Technoblade is an individual with extraordinary amounts of power. Others have pointed out that he is rarely challenged by other characters or the narrative, and regardless of the merits or flaws in that, it paints him as nearly untouchable. His being in the good graces of Dream only adds to this.

And like with Dream, the only way that people have been able to threaten Techno is when they work together. The Butcher Army, for all it's flaws, managed to capture Techno through numbers – with Tubbo and Fundy (barely) holding off Techno's blood rage while Quackity snuck off to take Carl hostage. And they would have gotten away with it too, if the other most powerful person on the server hadn't stepped in – both by pointing Techno to a totem of undying in the days before the attack, and by getting Punz to cause a distraction and directing Techno to the final control room, where he could escape with Carl.

So, if the most powerful person in the world can only be threatened by people working together, and the most common form of organization is by government, then what does it say about Technoblade, who wants the government destroyed?

People like Tubbo, Fundy and yes, Quackity, all benefit from organizing and working together. They all tend to be less armed, less ready to defend themselves, and completely unable to stand up to titans like Techno and Dream on their own. It's safety in numbers, but it's also control, and control is power.

Ranboo's insistence that Snowchester is a Government is interesting when viewed through this lens. Ranboo is another person who is insanely rich, and able to defend himself and his belongings consistently. Ranboo doesn't need other people to defend him – he's living with Techno and Phil not out of necessity for his survival, but out of need for connection with others.

This seems to be the main difference he finds with Snowchester, which has a more structured environment, geared to defend itself and it's people, if harm should come their way.

Which makes sense, considering it's founder, Tubbo, holds no earthly belongings, and Jack, another prominent member, has made a character trait out of losing his things every other day. The two of them have no conceivable way to defend themselves against people who are stronger than they are. But together, holding the keys to nuclear armaments, they can suddenly play on the field of gods.

The anarchist commune, despite having all members working together and being on good terms, aren't really an organization, they're individuals with common goals and interests. They don't need to live together to be strong, they're all already strong, they choose to be near each other because they want to.

Snowchester is not a government and has no ruler, but together, it's members hold power. They have sway in the world when they work as a collective, and most members have a vested interest in keeping themselves and each other defended because of this. Consequently, the “identity” of Snowchester becomes more prominent, resulting in the flag, the uniforms and the, well, identity.

(Now, the more perceptive among you might have noticed that I basically just compared Techno Phil and Ranboo to the ultra rich 1%, which. Um. Is a pretty serious comparison to make about in a block game rp?

And I wanna say that I don’t think this was necessarily intentional on the parts of either the CCs or the characters, and beyond that, it’s just one way of examining the text. This analysis is by no means the “Right” way to view the story, just a different one.

Regardless...)

Techno uses his considerable power to further his own goals, first and foremost. This is not inherently good or evil, it just is.

Contrast with New L'manberg's cabinet; Four people, pooling their limited power to further their shared goals. Not good or evil, just a way of exercising power.

But power is not static. Power is fluid and changing, moreso now on the SMP than ever before, and Quackity and Technoblade are fighting to define what Power means going forwards.

Techno is fighting for the status quo, knowingly or not. Individuals with power should lead the world, and those without should strive to emulate their betters. He destroys all forms of government, which strip away the rights of the individual in exchange for hierarchy and consolidated power within that hierarchy.

At it's best, this is a very freeing ideology, where nothing and no one can hold back the individual. The world is your oyster if you are willing to work for it.

But at it's worst? “Violence is the only universal language,” is the key phrase. Where does this ideology leave people who aren't strong? Where does it leave those who cannot fend for themselves? If Violence is the only universal language, then the weak have no means to speak.

Quackity is fighting to get a foothold for a contrary ideology – One that prioritizes words over violence and offers alternative methods of gaining and exercising control, such as through currency and conversation. Quackity has tried to varying degrees of success to implement this on the level of his own individual power, such as during the elections, but his attempts at employing this on a grand scale have all been short-lived.

At it's best, this ideology can uplift anyone, regardless of their strength. It encourages more communication, more commerce, and thrives under, you guessed it, strong government.

At it's worst however, it creates a brutally controlling environment. Where a few people gain absurd amounts of power through the complex machinations of a fiat currency, and are then able to use their sway and influence with governing forces to exercise power that they would never be able to hold on their own.

Again, neither of these ideologies are inherently good or evil. They both have flaws and benefits, and benefit no one more than perhaps Techno and Quackity respectively, while hindering the other.

Techno is benefited by anarchy because he holds incredible amounts of individual power. He is the strongest person on the server, he is rich beyond anyone's wildest dreams, and on a meta level, he's straight up good at the game. The current status quo puts him firmly at the top of the food chain, and this is most obvious on Doomsday, when he and the other two most powerful individuals (Dream and Philza) come together and crush the combined forces of New L'manberg. They are not meaningfully challenged in any way, whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Quackity is deeply hindered by the current status quo. He's not strong, he's poor, and he's vulnerable to anyone who wants to bully him with brute force. On a meta level, cc!Quackity just straight up does not play m/inecraf/t as much as some of the other people that on the server. (To be clear, I do not mention that as a criticism, just to contrast Techno. Neither of their levels of play are better or worse for content, they just add to the experience differently.)

On the other hand, in a government? Quackity “Law Student” HQ is suddenly on top. He's charismatic enough to debate with Wilbur “Can Talk His Way out of Anything” Soot during the elections, and come out of that arena smelling like roses. Back during the days of El Rapids, Quackity held his men back from conflict with Dream, and talked him into a corner of technical truths where Dream had to concede that he viewed El Rapids as an independent nation if he wanted to get involved with their conflicts.

And Techno, while he is brilliant and an English Major, suddenly loses a lot of his intimidation factor if he has to respect laws preventing brutal murder. Techno can certainly debate, but his go to conflict resolution is usually violence, and if you take that away, you take away the threat of challenging him. Because make no mistake, challenging Technoblade right now? Is suicide.

And this duality, this grey morality and clash of ideals, is why Quackity is my favorite character on the SMP. He isn't strong. The power he holds is tenuous and balanced on a knife's edge. It would make more sense for him to stay quiet, keep his head down, and if anything, try to change things from the shadows, where he'll be in the least danger.

But he isn't quiet. He doesn't just challenge authority, he challenges the authority; Dream, Wilbur, and of course, Technoblade.

And in all but one of those matches, he's come out with a concession from his enemy gripped between his teeth. He schooled Wilbur in the debates. He forced Dream to grant El Rapids Independence at a time when he hadn't done so for New L'manberg.

But he failed miserably when he challenged Technoblade. Quackity lost that fight in the final control room before it began. He lost the moment he formed the Butcher Army. He would have lost if he managed to kill Technoblade, and he lost still when he died.

He lost because he conceded that the only way to achieve his goal was through violence. He decided that the only way to establish himself and New L'manberg as powerful? Was to kill Technoblade. And he lost that fight and he always will. There was never a way that he walked out of that fight with the victory; Quackity lost the ideological battle long ago.

But not the war.

As of writing this, Quackity is in the process of introducing an economy to the Dream SMP, on Sam's initiative. There is no action I can think of that is wiser for him to take right now. Now, when Dream has been deposed and there's a vacuum in power; Now, when people are getting tired of endless violence and the loss it brings; Now, when people are looking for something new.

An economy is a direct challenge to Might Makes Right. Trading, supply and demand, politics. It offers a new way for people to obtain resources and a direct alternative to brute force; other methods to pay for slights and breaches of honor and etiquette. No more will pet wars be fought with iron swords and shields, but with money! A healthy sum of cash for the murder of Fungi!

If Quackity can get this system off the ground (and with Sam's help, he definitely can,) the stage would suddenly be tilted in the favor of not just Quackity, but the people who he has associated himself with most closely – Tommy, Fundy, even Schlatt. They're all business men, all scammers. This could be Quackity's world, and he's damn well intending for everyone to live in it.

We’ll have to see what Techno thinks of this - Quackity hasn’t made any moves to start another government, and an economy doesn’t inherently contradict anarchy. But it does hold a potential threat to Techno’s current power.

And as for Quackity? What will he do once he’s at the top? Will he finally become a true tyrant? Will he usher in a new age of equality and justice? Or will he eschew all of that in favor of personal riches. For once, the cards are in Quackity's favor, and we might get the chance to see what he does when he holds real power.

#Dream SMP #Quackity #Technoblade #Ranboo #Dreamwastaken #Dream SMP analysis #lazytext #long post #its done its done i did it its done #ive been working on this for THREE WEEKS #THREE WEEKS OF CHECKING VODS AND WIKIS AND AAAAAAAAAAAAA #If theres typos I DONT CARE #I LIVE MY LIFE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

470 notes · View notes

maximov-widow · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You

Pairing: Wanda x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, some fluff and angst, sexual suggestion.

Summary: Y/n thinks she has met the one until she joins the Avengers..

Word Count: 6.8K

Part 1, Part 2

Before being an Avenger, you were practically nothing but some part time vigilante whilst working full time to earn enough that would last you a whole week, you saved a few people from robbers and muggings which made you feel a little bit better about yourself, I mean not that you ever doubted yourself but knowing that you could help others whilst never having that protection during your youth times was rewarding in a way.

That’s how you have met your girlfriend, you saved her from couple of guys trying to rob her when she was working, it was also the time you discovered you had powers, you are able to control peoples minds and rewind time just enough to avoid any injuries.

It feels like it happened yesterday, you went to buy yourself a coffee from a new café that just opened up recently when suddenly there was a gun shot and a lot of screams along with some shouting telling people to get on the ground, you did that and watched the whole event unfold before your eyes.

At first it was them waving their weapons to scare people around them and demand money but as soon as they got what they wanted, they planned to at least kill someone and that was the girl behind the counter, who was scared shitless, she tried not to show it but when he pointed his gun at her and had the most disturbing smirk across his face, how could she not be, he pulled the trigger and you jumped out reaching out to the girl when everything stopped and time went back that’s when you ended up in the same place couple minutes before the men arrive.

You looked around to see if you were dreaming but before you could practically be amazed at your new ability, you jumped into action, running to the front door as the girl behind the counter looked at you funny, trying to stop you but you didn’t listen. You held the door and told her to call the police, you saw those men standing outside looking at you as they pointed a gun at you, you knew they would shoot so you ducked but held the door like your life depended on it.

For your luck the girl called the police and just when you were about to let go of the door and have them shoot you right there and then, the police surrounded all of the men with guns in their hands and with a huge sigh you let go of the door and fell back onto the floor to rest.

They were arrested and after giving your statement to the police, of course you had to lie mostly about how you knew it was going to happen, you said you had a bad feeling and figured something would happen, they were just happy they didn’t have any runners to extend their time on a case that would end up being forgotten.

The girl approached you with a small smile across her face “Hey.. I just wanted to thank you for doing that.. You saved not only me but a lot of people inside too.”

You smiled at her “It’s really not a problem, I’m just glad no one was hurt”

You reached your hand towards her “I’m Y/n” she shook your hand and replied “Olivia”

And that’s how it all started, you came by the café more often just to see her and she was happy to see you either way, she knew your order by heart and always had it ready for you. She liked your company so you stayed until you finished your coffee and was on your way, you gathered the courage and finally asked her out which she eagerly agree to. The first date wasn’t fancy but it was perfect, it was short which wasn’t a big deal and following that you had a few more dates before starting dating, eventually couple years in things started to be more than good, that’s when you decided you wanted to move in with her.

It was all perfect, you felt like nothing could go wrong but that was until you was caught trying to do your part time vigilante work by Iron Man, he dragged you to the Avenger tower to Nick Fury and he offered you a place within the team as he saw potential within you. You was taken back but agreed to join, you rushed back home as you weren’t needed until the team was back since they went off on a mission, and waited for your girlfriend to get back from work, she was an assistant for some big company so she was mostly busy but she always loved listening to your day to take the stress off her mind.

Even though you wanted to tell her everything, she didn’t know you was the vigilante, she knew you helped people out with your powers but you knew her opinion on hero'svigilantes, she hated it but was grateful for them as she felt safer within the city. You knew her intentions were pure but you had a different opinion.

You waited anxiously for her on the couch, bouncing your leg up and down from the nerves, you know her reaction will be something you wont like but this is huge for you. You will finally be able to help without hiding behind the whole vigilante ‘Time Breaker’ nickname the public made for you.

As soon as she walked in, she noticed your anxiousness “What’s wrong” She looked worried but you jumped up with a smile.

“I have news” Joy was practically dripping from you.

“I’m going to be on the team with the Avengers” You exclaimed with so much joy in your tone that you thought this somehow will make her be happy for you.

She dropped her bags and her face wasn’t like yours but with shock “What?”

“Well I helped someone out and Tony Stark caught me and dragged me to the Avenger tower and then I was offered a place in the team and I just took it”

“What?” She repeated herself as if you wasn’t talking in a language she would understand.

You looked at her confused and she finally spoke up from her shock state “You didn’t even think about considering this? You just took it without even consulting with me?”

You wanted to look confuse at her but you knew this would be her reaction “Olivia, come on you know how huge this will be-”

She interrupted you “You should’ve spoke to me about it as well.. We are a couple after all”

She took her bag and walked off towards your room as she closed the door behind her, usually when you have arguments you try to just listen each other out but when she shut the door you knew she didn’t want to listen to you so you just took your keys and walked out to give her some time to think about it and you made your way towards the tower again to meet the whole team.

The whole team was actually very welcoming when they heard about you joining, they all said that they have been watching you do your vigilante work and they were all pretty impressed. They gave me a room which you said you wont need but apparently its for long missions where you would have to be here for.

Everyone was excited to have a new member on their team and they all tried to show off their skills and abilities except this one redhead. You spoke with everyone and they all were chatting amongst each other so you took the opportunity to walk up to the redhead that was not far from yous.

She was sat at the bar, just paying attention to her drink, not really expecting anyone to approach her “Hello” you spoke up which made her jump a little.

She faced you and looked at the group of people who were just having usual banter “Shouldn’t you be over there with them?”

You leaned on the bar as you observed her “Probably but they are too busy with each other to even notice I am here”

She had a small smile across her lips as she traced the edge of the glass with her finger “Why are you here?”

“Well you are the only one who didn’t show what you can do”

She laughed “If I did that, I’m pretty sure the whole room would be upside down”

Something about this girl made you want to stick around, she was interesting and closed off a little which you didn’t mind. She was insanely beautiful and she was around your age which made you feel a little bit at ease to know that you aren’t the only young person there.

The only reason you didn’t know her was because she was new as well, she recently joined as well and felt a little bit left out as everyone in here already knew each other well enough to feel comfortable around them.

An idea popped in your head as you smiled “Pick a person and I will show you something”

She narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what you are trying to do “Okay? Steve Rogers”

You looked at him and called out “Steve!” His attention was now on you and you spoke up again “Do a chicken dance”

He looked confused and refused to do that, which you just shrugged your shoulders at and closed your eyes when you opened them they turned white and his too and suddenly he was dancing just like you wanted. The redhead had a smile across her face as she was amazed to what you could do, and so was everyone else in the room. You broke the trance and Steve stood there completely clueless as everyone around him laughed.

You looked at her “Okay now it’s your turn”

She just smirked as she blurted out couple seconds in “Bruce is disappointed as he wanted someone to join them with the same level of knowledge as him so he can have a partner”

You narrowed your eyes at her “How do I know you’re not making that up?”

She turned towards the group and spoke up “Bruce I can’t believe you are disappointed in our recent recruitment”

He looked so shocked “How did you- Get out of my head!” and you both just laughed.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n” You reached your hand towards her so she could shake it.

“Wanda Maximoff” She shook your hand with a small smile.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Couple hours later

You came back home, it was late and you expected Olivia to be fast asleep but your unresolved argument kept her up. You walked through the door and that’s when Olivia came out from the bedroom worried about you.

“Y/n?” She called out as you walked further into the house and saw her with something in hand.

“Olivia? What are you doing?” You eyed the weapon she had in hand and she sighed with relief.

She shook her head “I didn’t think you would come back today so I thought someone was breaking in”

You knew she still had some PTSD from that café incident so you didn’t think much of it “Of course I was going to come back home.. Why are you up?”

You placed your keys down in your usual spot and walked over to her after she placed the object down near her “I couldn’t sleep”

You reached for her hand and held it tight “It’s okay, I’m here, just let me go toilet and we can just lay in bed until you fall asleep”

Even if you were upset with how she reacted, you loved her and wanted her to feel safe.

She nodded and you did just that, you went toilet and then you both laid in bed after you changed into something more comfortable to sleep in, she was laying on your chest cuddled tightly into your body as if you was going to disappear.

She looked up at you, you could see in her eyes something was eating her inside out “What’s wrong?”

She sighed and sat up, you mimicked her actions and turned on the little night lamp you had so you could see better “I wanted to talk about the disagreement we had earlier”

You nodded and she continued “I know my reaction to what you told me was upsetting but you know how worried I am already when you put your life at risk helping people out a little, I just don’t want to lose you”

She cupped your face with both of her hands “I love you and I don’t want you to think I won’t support you but I’m just worried”

“I know and I’m sorry I didn’t ask for time and told you about it before taking the place. I was just so excited I just don’t want to hide” You played with your ring on your thumb to calm your nerves down.

“I know and now, you can finally be more than just the ‘Time Breaker’ vigilante”

You looked up at her from your hands and she had a small smirk across her face “You knew?”

She nodded “Of course, I knew you would never pass the chance to do anything that could save peoples lives and just so you know I am proud of you”

You hugged her as she giggled from the sudden attack, she hugged you back and you both fell back to your original position and fell asleep couple minutes after.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

3 months later

During this time, you and your girlfriend were on good terms but with missions getting in the way you never had time for each other, even if she said she was proud of you for doing what you always wanted, you knew she is still upset about it which caused some arguments and you would usually just spend your days in your room at the Avenger tower watching anything to take your mind off Olivia.

Today was one of those days, you wanted to spend your 4 year anniversary with her before you had to travel to the compound for the mission but she had other plans for that day with her friends so you ended up walking out whilst she was getting dressed and ended up here.

Did she bother to call you? No, were you waiting for her to? Yes, you wanted her to say she’s sorry and that she actually had something planned for you but she was actually at a party because you saw her friends posting stuff on their social media.

You held the phone in your hand, staring at it waiting for it to light up and display an apologetic message from her but there was no luck, even though you was watching something, it just didn’t take your mind of her.

“Are you just going to stare at your phone all day?” A voice appeared from the door way which made you look.

You saw Wanda standing with her arms crossed and she gave you a smile as she walked over to you when you didn’t say anything “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, you placed the phone on the night stand and sat up, not saying anything which Wanda took as an invitation to sit down near you.

Over the course of 2 months, you two were close friends but were still learning a lot about each other. For example during the team movie night, they all wanted to watch horror movies but you hated them. Of course you were teased for that but Wanda made sure they would choose something else. She wasn’t the only one who stuck by your side.

Natasha Romanoff did as well, she was quick to become your favourite person here, she was hilarious and could easily beat anyone here except Hulk because.. Well that dude is just not her size, though you could argue if it did come down to it. She loved playing pranks on the team and you soon become her partner in crime when it came to that, with your ability to control people’s minds you helped her do a lot of things like make people spill things or add too much spices to their food and watch them choke.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it but I can’t let you look this depressing. Come join me in the kitchen, I’m cooking dinner this time”

You raised your eyebrows at her to tease her “You cook?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes “Of course I do. Now come on” She grabbed your hand, you took your phone with you and you two walked hand in hand towards the kitchen.

You help the Sokovian out a lot actually, even if you didn’t really had time to cook before but you always knew how to. When you would finish your part, you would just lean and watch her with admiration at how concentrate she was but you would snap out of it, reminding yourself that you were in a relationship.

She brought the spoon up to your face so your attention isn’t turned towards your phone “Here, taste it” which you did and your face lit up at the different taste.

“Good? Am I missing something?” She asked a little worried but you shook your head still trying to process how good her food is.

“No! Its perfect, not only you’re dead ass gorgeous but also an amazing cook” You were too memorized by the food to even think twice what you were saying.

She blushed and before you had time to even correct yourself she quickly changed the subject “So will you tell me what’s wrong?” She looked up from what she was doing at you.

You sighed and looked down at your phone to see nothing and decided to open up “Today is mine and Olivia’s 4 year anniversary but she decided to spend it with her friends instead”

“At least you’re not alone today..” She said with a small smile on her face, trying to light up the mood.

You nodded and she questioned “So what are you going to do?”

You shrugged “I’m not sure but I know one thing”

She looked confused to why you stopped and suddenly, your eyes turned white when Tony barged in with his eyes white, she looked at both of you and within seconds Tony got ahold of flour as he dumped it over the Sokovian witch.

You broke the trance and looked at Wanda who was covered in white from head to toe and Tony who was lost at how he even got here as he held an empty bag of flour in his hand.

You laughed as she used her powers to throw some of the flour on you but you went back in time and avoided the attack which made her chase you around the kitchen “I teach you how to cook a good meal and that’s how you repay me Y/n. You wait”

You knew she was going to do something and you were right, she made you freeze in place and had an egg held in her hand, you knew what she was going to do, she walked towards you with a smirk across her face.

“You have no way out, you can’t rewind or control anyone. The only fate here is the egg to be cracked on your head” The red mist entangled with her fingers controlling your captivity.

Tony was going to just walk out without protesting but she held him as well which made him speak up “What did I do?” He basically whined but Wanda didn’t care.

“For all I know you could get someone to help Y/n, so you’re staying here” She stated which made Tony shake his head “Actually I don’t care-”

She used her powers to stick a cloth inside his mouth so he would shut up, you was laughing at the whole thing but suddenly the egg turned into 10 which were floating in the air and were ready to be thrown at you but she was waiting.

“Come on Wands.. You don’t want to do this..” You tried your luck but she shook her head “Oh but I really do” and with that all those eggs aimed at you, covering you with the egg goo, she walked up closer as she held the last egg

“That’s for the flour” and she just cracked the egg on your head making it slowly run down your head which made her laugh and she let you go.

That was a mistake

What she didn’t notice was that you were planning to give it back to her, and suddenly your body collide with hers, holding her tight making sure she has some of that egg too. That’s when her eyes widen at how close yous are, making yous both blush and you let go off her, that’s when the rest of the team walks into the kitchen that’s covered in flour and egg shells.

“What in the world happened here” Someone exclaimed from the team, whilst Natasha laughed.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

The next day

You ended up in Wanda’s room after the dinner, Nat did join yous for a while to watch some sitcoms but she wasn’t really into that, so she left later on when Wanda was drifting to sleep.

Somehow you ended up falling asleep along with Wanda, yous must’ve shifted in your sleep as now Wanda is cuddled into you with her head resting on your chest.

She has been awake for some time but she didn’t want to move, risking waking you up and parting away from her. She enjoyed your company a little too much, she always wanted to be around you, you made her days better, especially when she is having a rough day, she always knows she can count on you and that’s what caused her to fall for you.

When you joined the Avengers, that night you met them all, she was a little sceptic rather than welcoming, she sat away to avoid any interaction with anyone from the team, she was still a lot more closed off than she is now and when you approached her she knew she could trust you, it was a gut feeling.

Finding out you were in a relationship kind of bothered Wanda but she brushed it off, especially since there was nothing she could do about it. The more she got to know you the more she liked you, you were like a golden retriever; Happy, beautiful, smart but if someone pissed you off you was like Natasha which was why Natasha found herself hanging out more with you than the rest of the team.

Wanda looked up from where she was, staring at your relaxed featured, just taking in how calm you looked, her heart melting at the sight of you.

“Watching me sleep creepy lady?” You asked still with your eyes closed.

She tensed when you suddenly spoke up but relaxed within seconds when she rolled her eyes at you “No?” She had a blush across her cheeks for being caught.

You smiled as your hand reached to your face to rub your eyes and stretch out “Mhm sure”

Your raspy voice in the morning will be Wanda’s favourite thing from now on. The only girl you ever had in bed (besides your ex girlfriends), was Olivia and now that Wanda is here with you is.. different. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like it but you did, her embrace was comforting.

Yous decided it was best to get up and cook breakfast before the whole team wakes up. Well Wanda cooked breakfast whilst you quietly stare at her, drinking your coffee at the same time.

Natasha was the first one up from the rest of the team and ate Wanda’s breakfast, she wanted to spar with you so you agreed, it was a good idea to just get fired up before the mission. She was good and you needed some hand to hand combat skills in case your powers refuse you.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Couple hours later

Travelling to a Hydra base wasn’t something everyone was thrilled about, the whole team was needed for no reason, you and Wanda could just take the whole place down with your powers but this mission was tricky, yous didn’t need to just beat them up but you needed their data and blow their base up, S.H.E.I.L.D. intel wasn’t the best, they barely gathered anything apart that this base had some dangerous weapons that’s why you were needed.

As soon as the whole team along with you jumped out of the Quinjet, you expected agents to be flooding the field but there was nothing. You was instructed to go near the base just in case they flooded out since you could rewind time, so just like that you started to approach the base.

You walked inside and there was no one there, you expected it to be heavily guarded but no one was seen, so you went further inside as you reached to your ear to inform the team, that’s when the guards made their way out and spotted you.

You pressed your ear so the team can hear you whilst you talk down the guards, just in case your powers failed so the team would be informed to help you “Look fellas, I’m here.. you are here. Can we not be buddies?”

You tried but they launched at you and you simply went back in time, just enough before they spotted you. You reached to your ear and spoke quietly “This must be a set up, the guards know we are here they are waiting for us to approach the base, I can sneak inside and just do the work quickly. Just wait for my signal”

The team agreed that you should do it but Wanda protested “No Y/n! Come back and let’s do this together”

“Maximoff, Everything will be fine besides I can rewind if anything goes wrong. It’s okay.” You spoke and started to make your way towards the guards, you hid behind them and controlled one of their minds as you made them fight each other, knocking them out, you pulled their bodies to where you were so other were not alerted. You took their weapons and attached it near the bomb that you was suppose to plant.

You made your way to the core of the base and there was no one but you knew better, you closed your eyes and searched for any soul near you which you did find, you forced them to the centre and pushed them as their body was shot multiple times.

You reached to your ear to let know the team that you made it “Okay, I’m at the core of the base, I have the pen drive, I’ll plant the bomb as soon as the data starts to transfer.”

The team sighed in relief that you were still alive but they were pretty much surprised that the amount of guards. Wanda and Natasha knew something was wrong but they couldn’t go against orders, even if they were your orders they were approved by everyone.

You plugged the pen drive inside the slot and placed the bomb near the weapons, the timer will start as soon as you let Tony know to start it, you started at the huge screen as the percentage increased. You knew it was too good to be true to just leave without being detected.

A sharp sting in your shoulder and thigh occurred that muted the gunshots from behind you as you turned around to see the guard with a gun in his hand and little smoke coming from it, making you aware that you have been shot twice, you looked back you at the screen which was closer to finishing, as you controlled his mind and made him shoot his leg himself and knock himself out.

The focus for the mission was keeping you busy from the pain but as soon as you moved your leg, the pain was stronger which made you groan and limp towards the computer, as soon as it hit 100%, you snatched the drive and slowly made your way towards the exit where you saw about 5-10 guards standing with their guns pointing at you.

You laughed a little and took the weapon attached to your belt as you started to shoot at them, they were shooting at you but they missed as you went back in time but each time you did the less energy you had, it was mainly because you was losing blood and was hit couple more times, you didn’t even notice until you moved from your place to hide behind something.

You reached to your ear, taking a deep breath and speaking “Tony start the timer.”

“On it” He spoke to your ear and soon enough his voice spoke up again “Okay, you have 3 minutes before the whole place blows up, can you make it?” He asked the question he didn’t want to, which he earned a shocking glare from Wanda and Natasha, they weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah, I’m on my way out” As you spoke, gunshots slipped through which made the team be more worried.

“Y/n do you need back up?” Natasha asked and there was no reply, they were about to run inside from the Quinjet but Tony started to fly above. You and him had a plan which the team wasn’t inform off, this way you wouldn’t be stopped, they thought they will be joining you but you was suppose to go alone.

“Tony what the fuck are you doing?” Natasha harshly spoke as she stared at him from behind but he didn’t answer.

Wanda worried stood up “We need to help Y/n!” But she was ignored as well.

You knew you didn’t have time but you hoped this will work out, the reason to why the team wasn’t needed was because that could cause a lot of problems like compromising the mission but they were there in case things went south.

You took a deep breath and with everything you had, started to run towards the exit, with the pain becoming more stronger, which had some guards there but you manged to knock them out with your mind control, you failed to notice that one of them pretended to be knocked out so when you approached the exit, you was shot again, this time nearer to your heart which punctured your lung, you knew this is bad but you went on.. At least tried to, right as you reached the end, you were close to dropping to the ground but that’s when the bomb went off, sending you flying into the air, several feet away from the base and where the Quinjet was.

You was barely breathing and barely conscious to what was happening around you, but one redhead made it towards you. You smiled at whoever was there and started to close your eyelids since they become so heavy.

“Oh my god, Y/n” A shaky voice spoke up, you could tell it was Wanda.

You tried to wave your hand to dismiss it but the pain was too much so you spoke up “It’s fine..”

She covered your mouth with her hand “Shut up and save your energy! You can’t die now”

You was trying hard to stay awake but it wasn’t working and the darkness was much closer than you really wanted, you passed out the second the Sokovian redhead lifted you with her powers.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Long couple hours later

The medical wing wasn’t keen on giving anyone any information about your condition which only worried everyone. Wanda barely left the waiting room in hopes that they will crack and tell her about you but nothing.

She wanted to barge in there and demand answers but she knew better than to delay your way to recovery. Wanda was more than worried, she was terrified, at the thought of your body going limb when she picked you up really scared her.

At the loss of her parents and her brother, she thought she would never open up to anyone but when you waltzed into her life, you instantly melted her walls with just one look, you made it easier to breath when she was around you, that’s why she can’t lose you.

Tony along with Natasha and Steve made their way towards Wanda, they knew she was upset.

she looked up, her blood boiling at the sight of Tony, she stood up with her eyes turning red “What do you think you’re doing here?” the question was laced with venom.

“Are there any news?” Natasha asked knowing that anything could trigger Wanda.

She shook her head but her glare didn’t leave Tony which angered her more, she wanted him out of this hallway, she wanted to see you smile and laugh.. Just be alive but you are in there with no updates.

“Look Witch, me and her had a plan before we went on the mission, she was suppose get out there before the bomb went off but obviously the plan didn’t work out exactly like we wanted, she was suppose to be on the Quinjet before it exploded, she knew it was a set up but she went anyways, we needed that data and now we are able to create better weapons because of it.” He tried to explain the best he could to Wanda, he felt guilty he didn’t let someone else come with you but they both knew it would be dangerous.

“Why didn’t you just let me or Natasha come with her!” She screamed, it made some lights flicker as her powers slowly emitted from her.

Tony took a deep breath “She didn’t want anyone, I tried to convince her to take someone but she said that would rather die than let anyone else suffer”

With his words, Wanda’s eyes turned back to normal as it filled with tears, she was so mad at you for doing such a reckless thing without even talking to her about it. Natasha approached her and gently wrapped her arms around Wanda, she was trying her best to keep her tears in but that was slightly impossible.

Doctor Helen Cho walked out to the scene, she made herself known by clearing her throat, immediately Wanda turned and stared at her, she was dreading this moment but put a brave face.

“This might be hard to hear but Y/n flatlined three times before going into a stable condition. Some of the bullets made their way towards further into her body, especially into her lung, it was difficult to even take it out but we did it and she should be okay, she lost a lot of blood so we put her into a medically induced coma to record quicker but she can easily slip into her own coma from so much trauma so we will be monitoring her for now” She spoke, explaining everything that went on inside that small room.

The only two things that stuck with Wanda was that you flatlined three times but you’re alright. She closed her eyes, trying her best to keep calm, as she sat back down in the chair, they all looked at the Sokovian, it was kind of scary to see her like this.

Natasha took it as an opportunity to ask if anyone can go in and visit you “Is visiting possible?”

Helen nodded “Yes but one at a time, too much people might disturb her”

Wanda stood up with the most dull face you could witness “How many times?”

Helen took a deep breath “She was shot 7 times”

Wanda nodded and just walked inside the room leaving the 3 behind, she needed to be there when you wake up, she knew how much you hated bright white rooms, she never knew the exact reason but she never asked, she wanted you to tell her.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦��◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Two weeks later

The air in the compound was thick with tense, especially since Wanda never wanted to leave your side but she was needed in some small missions, now that you was gone she was needed twice as much, you and her made missions seem so much easier but now that you are still in the coma, she was forced to leave you.

Wanda was currently after her mission, she was exhausted but she rushed to your side to be there when you wake up, she had a feeling you would wake up. She was there for hours but still no luck, that’s when there was a knock on the door which her head followed, she saw Vision.

She relaxed and walked outside to see him, he tried to convince her to go shower and rest but she didn’t want any of that, she just wanted to be here, you woke up during that time, your eyes scanned the room that’s when it landed outside the window to Vision and Wanda, you were so high on painkillers that you didn’t even notice any pain.

He was extremely close to her, his hand on her cheek and looked at her so lovingly, she looked sad and his other hand was on her hip holding her close. You wasn’t sure how long you have been out but it must’ve been long since Vision and Wanda are now together (Obviously they weren’t), at the sight of them that close, your heart broke. You had feelings for Wanda for sometime now but Olivia was your girlfriend and you knew you had to bury those feelings, especially now that Wanda is with someone else.

You hated bright rooms so your breathing increased, slowly having a little panic attack when you came to your senses, the heart monitor started to beep faster which caught Wanda’s attention.

She ran inside leaving Vision, to which he just walked away a little disappointed, she held your hand “It’s okay Y/n, I’m here sweetie”

You relaxed at her touch but your breathing didn’t steady “Y/n look at me and follow my breathing”

She started to breathe slowly in and out which you mimicked, you was relaxing, she always had that effect on you, tears started to run down your face which Wanda carefully wiped with her thumb.

You leaned into her touch as you blurted out “Take me home please..”

Your pleading broke Wanda’s heart, she knows how much you hate these rooms “Y/n..”

“Please Wan.. I can’t stay here, its too cold and lonely” You begged her and her grip tighten around your other hand.

“I’m here Детка (baby), and I’m not going anywhere” She spoke as she stared into your eyes.

“I can’t stay here” Another tear slipped down your face, Wanda nodded with a sad smile “Okay.. I will talk to the doctor but for now rest, I will be here моя любовь (My love)”

You didn’t understand what she was saying, for all you know she could call you an idiot but the way she said it, just made you want to listen to her talk all the time.

You nodded and a thought struck you “Wanda…” She hummed as an answer to which you continued “Could you lay with me here until I fall asleep?”

Wanda wanted to just stay in your arms forever but to be asked to cuddle you till you fall asleep because you are terrified of this hospital room, made her even happier, she nodded and climbed next to you as you carefully hugged into her, with her scent filling your nose and her heartbeat you felt safe.

“Do you want to know why I don’t like bright white rooms?” you asked and she nodded.

You wasn’t sure if you should look at her because if you broke down it would be harder to stop but taking a deep breath you looked up and stared into her green eyes, they held this reassurance, she didn’t need to use her words, her eyes said it all

“When I was young, my mother and father decided they didn’t want me so they gave me up for some experiments..” You paused as a flashback of the white room appeared before your eyes, you exhaled shakenly “ All I really remember is the multiple white rooms and the cold empty feeling whilst they did whatever they did”

“So please.. Get me home, I don’t want to be here” Another tear escaped your eyes.

Her free hand cupped your cheek as she wiped the tear and nodded with a smile “You’ll go home, just rest”

It pained her listening to your past, as a little girl to be put through something like that, it must’ve been really scary. Wanda’s hand traced circles on your back, relaxing you, making you fall asleep with her. The red power coursing through her hand near your head as she gave you pleasant dreams.

“Sweet dreams Солнечный свет (Sunshine)”

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #the avengers #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda #maximoff #avengers x reader #avengers x you

142 notes · View notes

valwentinefics · 4 years ago

Note

Ahhhh I love your fics and your NSFW Zemo headcanons. Would you consider doing a full NSFW Alphabet for him?

Helmut Zemo NSFW Alphabet (18+)

A/N: My tumblr was so laggy writing this I wanted to scream so sorry for any errors I wasn’t really able to fix them. Thank you so much for enjoying my stuff I hope you like this!

Warnings: mostly dom Zemo with a little bit of sub (I’m horrible at writing subs ok sorry), sexual choking, breeding kink, some bdsm dynamics, pegging if you’re afab in one part, innocence kink, very very brief pee mention in the no section,

Letters C and T were written with an afab reader in mind.

After sex Zemo would dote on you, holding you close into his warm chest as he praises you for how well you took him and calling you sweet Sokovian pet names.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you Zemo is a big fan of your thighs. No matter what they look like, big or small, stretch marks or no stretch marks, he loves them. He enjoys the way he can trail his hands up them, loving your pretty little whimpers as he gets close to touching the spot you want him to touch the most

On himself Zemo loves his hands. They’re soft and well taken care of and make the prettiest necklace when wrapped around your throat.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

This man has a breeding kink, if you don’t want to have a child or unable to have one that’s fine with him he at least likes the fantasy of it. He cums a lot and will ensure you don’t waste a drop, keeping himself in you to make sure nothing spills out until he goes soft. If you’re bad he’ll make you cockwarm him with his cum in you until he gets hard again, then fucking it further into you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Zemo wants to get fucked in the ass. He’s usually a dom because he enjoys having control as well as making you feel good, but sometimes he wants to be put in his place and what better way to do that than to make him get on his hands and knees and pound into him?

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I can’t see Zemo having had many partners, but he definitely knows what he’s doing. He encourages you to be vocal about what you like and don’t like so that he can hopefully be the best you’ll ever have.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Because of his breeding kink I see him loving the mating press position the most, especially since it lets him get super deep inside you and allows him to see your face while he plows you which he absolutely loves as well as it gives him control over you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Zemo seems like he’d be more on the serious side during sex, but if you feel more comfortable cracking a few jokes then he wont mind. All that matters to him is that you’re both having a good time.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Zemo doesn’t seem like the type to shave fully, instead he’ll keep it trimmed short.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

This man is romantic. Sometimes you’ll come home to rose petals leading to a candlelit bedroom. He’s real cheesy and dramatic like that most of the time before sex, although he won’t be all too opposed to doing it anywhere regardless of if its fancy and nice or not.

He can be degrading or sweet during sex, it depends on what you want, Zemo is a very generous lover and is down for nearly anything. He mostly enjoys being strict with you though if you let him. He is usually a dom and a good one at that.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Zemo doesn’t masturbate that much, why do it when he can just fuck you? However if he’s gone for long periods of time and can’t stop thinking of you he’ll have some lingerie sent to wherever you are and ask you to send pictures wearing it for him.

Other than his breeding kink I see Zemo having a thing for innocence. Zemo loves to be the only one to touch you and make you feel good, to have you trust and depend on him completely for your pleasure. He’s a good teacher too if you’re a virgin. (will be elaborated on in a future fic)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Zemo is a traditional man, he loves to fuck you in the bed. Although he also loves quickies in whatever closet he can find, he worries about hurting your back when he’s pounding into you somewhere that isn't soft.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Zemo loves it when you listen to him, even if he’s just asking you to do something like the dishes. He also loves when you wear things he gives you and are impressed with him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I’m sorry but I’ve got to say it, Zemo’s not gonna piss on you. He’d like to keep it clean of things your bodies produce unless it's like spit or cum.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Zemo is great at giving and will if you ask him, but he doesn’t really like oral that much.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Zemo changes depending on the mood, but he loves to fuck you slow but hard, usually ending up fast and rough when he’s about to cum.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Zemo likes to be romantic, but sometimes he can’t help pulling you into a closet and fucking you roughly as a punishment if you tease him in public.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Zemo is 100% down with experimenting. He loves to try new things to find out what works and doesn’t work for the two of you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Zemo can go for an average amount of time but he makes sure to give you multiple orgasms during it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Two words. Vibrating panties. Good luck if you accompany him while he does business, you better be good and silent for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Unless you misbehaved Zemo wouldn’t tease you… too much. But when you warrant it he loves to push you until you’re begging him to fuck you, and when you’re on your knees before him with such teary and needy eyes, he can’t say no.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Zemo is pretty quiet despite moaning a lot. It makes it really easy for quickies in public as long as you’re able to be quiet too.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves to be called Baron, he loves how powerful he feels when you call him that, especially if you call him your baron.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Pretty average, I think he’d be circumcised.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Zemo fucks. A lot. The man will have you bent over whenever humanly possible.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s super tired afterwards, but always makes sure to be awake long enough to make sure you’re doing okay and have everything you could possibly need before falling asleep.

#baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo #zemo smut

218 notes · View notes

needleanddead · 4 years ago

Text

remember when i was like ‘i will probably use this blog to write some horrible reader-insert fanfiction too’? yeah.

knife-edge, strade x reader, 3.2k

trigger warnings: not sfw, non-con, blood, violence, gore, references to torture/snuff films, honestly i figure you probably know what you’re getting into if you’re seeing this. reader uses no pronouns/neutral pronouns but is vaguely implied to be afab.

cross-posted to ao3

You do not know how you still have it in you to scream, and cry, and beg.

Well.

That’s a lie, really; you have it in you to scream, and cry, and beg, because you know that the moment you stop – the moment you let yourself truly succumb to that pit of nothingness that lies heavy and waiting in your chest – he will lose interest in you completely, and you will meet the same fate as all of the rest of them do.

Despite the shock collar that lies heavy around your throat; the proof that he had seen some value in you beyond what you might feel like if he tore you into pieces and let you rot, you know that any peace you have here is temporary. He’ll get bored. He’ll lose control. He’ll--

Sometimes you wonder if those things might be better. The idea of death hovers at the edges of your vision like a spectre, waiting for you – and you are a coward and you run from it, whimpering and sensitive with tears rolling down your cheeks whenever he takes you back down the creaking basement stairs and wraps rope around already rubbed-raw wrists.

You don’t think you’d recognise the sight of your own wrists without the rope burn any more. It seems so long since you’ve been anything other than captive. You’re not sure you even know who you are unless you have a blade half-buried in your thigh or thick fingers digging and reopening wounds or pliers too close to vulnerable flesh.

You think he likes that, too – that you don’t seem to exist unless you’re hurting. Delights that he’s broken you without breaking the part of you that he really likes; the one with the trembling lip and the gasping and the tears beading in your eyes. You beg less now; you have learnt that he’s always able to turn a ‘please, please don’t, not that--’ into something that’s somehow worse. But when you’d first woken up all rope-burnt and disoriented with your arms wrapped around a pole in a basement that smelt like copper and oil, you had begged until your throat was sore.

What you had gotten for your troubles was your own hand wrapped around the knife handle as you sliced into too soft, too giving flesh and stared in horror at bubbling rivulets of blood with the dim thought in the back of your mind; I did this to myself.

It’s a dangerous knife-edge that you’re walking; don’t fight too much, but don’t give in too much. Don’t break, but don’t entirely yield. If he gets bored of you, or if you push him too far – then the collar around your neck will be carefully unlocked and you’ll regret everything. You’ll meet the fate that you so narrowly avoided, bleeding and broken and disoriented as your life slips away to the tune of Strade’s fingers wrapped too hard about your throat.

Or worse, you’ll meet the fate you’ve seen some of the ones who have broken too early become acquainted with; bandana wrapped around his mouth and camera painstakingly readjusted to perfectly centre a sobbing, terrified face. You have been far too close to the ones who end up that way; brought down to the basement and given a nail gun as you’re shoved onto your knees in front of a girl who might once have been pretty but is a little too matted with blood and bruises to be called the same any more.

“I thought they might like to see someone else hurt her this time, schatzi,” his smile had not dimmed a watt. When you had first met him, that smile had put you at ease; his eyes had reminded you of honey, and you’d been so flattered, so warmed, to have the attention of someone who oozed easy charm--

You know now his eyes are not the soft amber of honey but the sharp yellow-orange of a hawk; a predator. When he had smiled at you, he had not been thinking of the kindness of making someone feel comfortable – he had merely been imagining how prettily you would break. Which, as he had not failed to tell you after you’d sobbed out every plea you could and had jagged stitches and broken bones and blood crusted on your face to prove it, had been even more lovely than he had imagined.

The nail gun had been too heavy in your hand; the trigger sweaty, because Strade himself was over-excited and flushed dark pink under tanned skin and excitement beading at his brow. Your fingers had slipped all over it as he’d murmured;

“They want you to put a pretty pattern in her up her shins to her knees. Start at the . . . haa, start at the ankle--”

You’d felt something inside of you snap as if it was very far away as you stared at her legs; already cut up a little and stitched messily, as Strade is so wont to do to make sure his captives last longer. You hesitate too long, because suddenly thick, strong fingers are gripping your jaw and squeezing too hard as they turn your face towards the camera like a rabbit caught in headlights.

His fingers will bruise your face, you know – and he will see it tomorrow, and dig them harder, make the bruises deeper until you can barely open your jaw--

“Ah, they think you’re cute, mäuschen,” Strade says, an uncomfortable lilt in his voice that sets your teeth on edge. “They’d be happy to see you as the star instead – and I’m sure our other guest would much prefer it too.”

(The girl in the chair leans forward, babbling words that don’t make sense; bubbling drool slips from her lips, tinged pink, and you think that this one must have talked too much and Strade has done something to her tongue).

“Now,” his tone is endlessly patient. “You know I want to keep you, ja? You’re very sweet. I like you a lot - so be good and do what the audience want, and I won’t have to do something I don’t want to, will I?”

He is hard to read. Cheerful to angry in moments; snapping and bouncing from side to side with a laugh and a wild light in his eyes that you don’t understand. He does like you – insofar as you think Strade is capable of really feeling for other people – but you can’t wager your life on him bluffing. The girl looks at you with agonised eyes and you pull the trigger, the nose of the gun pressed against her ankle.

You hear her scream – wet, through a throat clogged with blood, the sound mixing with the disgusting crunch-squelch of the nail being driven into her skin too close to the bone – and it echoes far longer in your head than it actually lasts. You feel far away as you trail the gun further up her leg, pulling the trigger, your marks on her surprisingly straight considering how much the both of you are trembling – but you know you’re crying because you can hear Strade breathing a little heavy, see the bulge in his pants (level with your face) from the corner of your eye as you finish the first leg and move to the second.

It’s not the last time he makes you hurt someone on stream. Sometimes, he checks the stream whilst you’re there and whichever poor soul he’s got taped to a chair whimpers and squirms, whistling cheerily through his teeth as if the situation is perfectly normal. You see the comments as they scroll by; asking you to do horrible things, the ping of donations, the occasional plea to dig a screwdriver into your eye socket and make you scream or pull out your teeth with pliers or slash a heavy knife through your ribcage and fuck the wound he leaves there--

You think he lets you see them on purpose, as a reminder of what he could do to you. He always makes sure the stream sees your face perfectly clearly, too – and you never fail to think; ‘he is making me an accessory to his murders’.

(It is not just you; you find out that Ren is subjected to this same treatment, this same reminder that Strade’s moods are volatile and he loses self-control too quickly and there’s every chance that one day, he will go too far. You do not share your thoughts with Ren that even if, by some miracle, the two of you found yourself outside of Strade’s control, your face is probably plastered all over the darkest shadows of the deep web. You never talk about what might happen. You do not quite trust each other beyond sharing in patching up each other’s wounds, occasionally seeking one another out for company, trembling in the night. There is a kind of tension between you; fear that the other is the favourite. That Strade perhaps isn’t capable of keeping both of you long-term.

It makes Strade himself laugh when he sees that you’re on edge around each other and he leans forward to rest elbows on knees and tells you with a wicked glint in his eye that he just wants the both of you to get along. Perhaps you two need to share something very special, like what he shares with the both of you.

When he tells you to hurt one another, Ren has the advantage of animal nature. It’s clear to you where you stand in the pecking order of predators. You think, too, that Strade prefers you there. Master, fox, mouse.)

You never hear anything from the room designated as yours; it doesn’t escape notice that there is no other bedroom, aside from Ren’s domain and the one that Strade himself barely uses. Nowhere for someone else, if Strade were to take it into his head that another captive would be an interesting pet to keep--

It has been long enough that there are some things you have asked for, tremulous and whimpering, decorating surfaces and scattered about the room. There are also reminders of Strade, too; a hammer and nails on a chest of drawers, a knife in the bedside cabinet, too many things that could be used as weapons at the same time as being summarily excused as simply the detritus of a man doing home improvements.

You’d woken up that morning (you know it is morning because early fingers of dawn have penetrated even through the curtains you keep closed) to see Strade silhouetted in the doorway, smile on his face, shirt spattered with dark red and brown. You know that expression. You sit up, letting the covers fall, and he keeps smiling as he closes the door behind him and approaches you like a wolf approaches a frightened rabbit.

“Last night was disappointing,” he says, his tone light. You’d heard a thump in the middle of the night; assumed it to be Strade dragging a body down to the basement, and had resolutely buried your face into your pillow and pretended you heard nothing.

It’s easier to think of Strade’s other victims – the ones not so lucky as you or Ren – as faceless, foolish creatures. Food. Sustenance. Not people.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice quiet, cracking. Strade reaches across and chucks your chin, too fondly, bright smile and bright eyes.

“It’s alright,” he tells you. He’s pleased with the apology. He likes it when you’re polite. “It just means that I’m feeling a little . . . ahh. Restless. You’ll help me with that, won’t you?”

“Of c-course I will.” The stutter; he likes that, you know. He shifts as he sits on the bed.

A chuckle.

“You’re always so well-behaved,” he tells you. “sehr süß.”

The knife-edge you walk; the tight-rope. Well-behaved, but not broken. Responsive, but not troublesome. You’ve gotten it down to a fine art.

He’s on top of you before you can respond, knees shoved between your legs, your hand shoved hard against the bedside table so it knocks uncomfortably against hard wood and you flinch at the shock of pain.

The brief pain, though, is nothing to the anxiety that crawls up your throat as you realise he grabbed the hammer and nails as he walked in.

He chuckles as he sees your eyes widen in fear, cooing softly to you;

“That expression. So hübsch. Stay still for me.”

Your wrist is shaking as Strade carefully places a nail right in the centre of your hand; testing the angle, the positioning. His breath is uneven and panting in excitement at what he’s going to do – and excitement, too, that he knows you won’t pull away. Because you know if you do, it will not merely be a nail through one hand, but perhaps through your other and your knees and your feet, perhaps a knife slicing through you like butter, perhaps the feel of chisels and needles and sharper and more painful objects (knife, pliers, screwdriver, chisel, bradawl, drill--).

He lifts the hammer. He watches intently. His eyes are lit with bright excitement, chest heaving, sweat-soaked and greasy. You taste copper and realise you’ve bitten through your lip.

You’ve grown used to the smell of copper and motor oil and meat. If it weren’t for the flood of blood across your tongue you doubt you’d have noticed.

Crack. The first blow. The pain is blinding.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Every single hit of the hammer sends a new shock of pain through you that echoes through the inside of your arm through to the bone marrow, shaking you. It’s not the most painful thing you’ve felt at Strade’s hands; but you are still partly asleep, still not quite aware, and you are simply looking at your hand with the crunch of fractured bones (twenty seven bones in the human hand; is that your capitate, that’s been splintered through?) and the sick wet noise of blood and muscle and you can’t think.

You stare, unblinking, at where your hand is nailed to the bedside table - the gore and blood that oozes from the wound as he uses the clawed end of the hammer to drag it out again. Strade’s smile is beatific, eyes wide and bright, sweat dampening his collar and his cheeks flushed and ruddy.

You’re unable to process anything for another long, agonising second; relief flooding you when finally, you respond. The whimper a delayed reaction, the tears that roll fat and hot down your own face taking a beat longer than usual.

You fear that you’ve broken for the moment you’re staring in horror; that he has finally, well and truly snapped you in half. Because if you’re broken, that means he’ll lose interest, and that means the basement and the fear of death finally catching up with you.

Occasionally the thought flits across your mind that death perhaps would be preferable; but you are a coward, and you have hurt people (even if it was on Strade’s command), and you do not want to know what awaits you on the other side of a non-beating heart and the light in a tunnel.

Strade chuckles, affectionately rubbing his nose against the line of your jaw, teeth digging just a little too hard into the flesh of your neck.

“You had me worried for a second, mäuschen,” he practically purrs. “I thought I’d heard the last of your squeaking.” Big fingers, tugging at your thighs, guiding you to wrap them around his hips. Despite the softness of his body, the proof that he enjoys lazing around and cheap beer and meat a little too much, there’s raw muscle beneath the chub. Even his hands on you are a reminder of how strong he is.

(Strong enough to drag dead bodies across floors, to lift them into kilns, to hold down unwilling, screaming captives and make them regret they ever laid eyes on him.)

“Unzip,” he tells you. One of your hands is free; unpierced, though scarred from being pressed against stove burned and soldering irons and heat guns, from grabbing the blade of a knife when he’s told you to fuck yourself with the handle, from sanders applied to formerly soft skin. You do not use that hand.

You force yourself to move the one dripping in your own blood, the ruined hand pierced straight through. The movement of your fingers burns, sending shock waves of pain all through you; but you tug at the zip of his pants nonetheless. You get blood all over his clothes but he just chuckles low and dangerous, as you reach into his underwear too and squeeze your eyes shut when you feel how hot and hard and heavy his cock is in your grip.

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you, soft, and you force yourself to open them. He drinks in the expression on your face like he’s a starved man and it’s his first meal.

There’s a bloody handprint on his shaft when your fingers and wrist finally give out and your hand falls onto the sheets and pillows beneath you, staining them too, and you think that Strade is going to drive more nails through your hand just to prove a point about not doing as he says.

But his cock presses hot and needy against your inner thigh, smearing blood and pre-come on your scarred skin, and he’s panting and practically drooling as he murmurs;

“You know you’re not going to break, schatz. You want to live too much.” He leans his face further down. He does not kiss you so much as take control of you; worry teeth into your bottom lip, transfer his own saliva into your mouth, conquer the cavern behind your lips and teeth (one of them is loose; from being hit and squeezed. He pushes his tongue just a little too hard against that one and your body contracts, a whimper transferred from your throat to his mouth, and he swallows it up like your protests are a fine steak). “Ah. That’s what I like about you.”

Are you going to break? The push of him pressing inside of you makes your toes curl, a soft noise that might be a moan escape; Strade laughs, again, the sound too hearty and friendly to come out of the monster that you know he is.

“You like it,” he presses, as his thumbs come to your hips and dig into wounds that have been stitched together; you hear the stitches pop, feel him re-open barely healed gashes. “You like being special to me. You like this.”

You don’t think you do.

You don’t think you like any of this; his body on top of yours, the pain, the mistrust, the fear that prickles hot and sharp and sour in your throat whenever you hear the door (the one you can’t go near) open. But you also know that saying that is the wrong answer. Hitting and screaming like a wildcat is the wrong answer. Saying nothing at all is the wrong answer.

So instead, you open your mouth, you shiver and shudder as his thumb presses deeper into the re-opened wound, and you manage to choke out a mouse-squeak of;

“Pl-please—”

It’s the right answer. His face does not soften; but his smile widens, his hips tilting until you’re so full you can barely move and you ache everywhere, and Strade simply smiles down at you as whatever passes for affection for him leaks into his tone and he coos;

“Don’t worry, mäuschen. I’ll give you exactly what you want. For as long as you need.”

[german translation dictionary; schatzi - sweetheart/dear/darling/treasure mäuschen - little mouse sehr süß - very sweet/very cute so hübsch - so pretty idk how accurate these are i am just using google translate always]

#strade x reader #strade x you #btd strade #reader-insert #not sfw #non con tw #gore tw #torture tw #i think this is the nastiest thing i've written but it's probably just gonna get worse #🦇 pip writes #i had to delete a lot of old fics from an old ao3 for this so it wasnt in the same place as my other reader-inserts dfvnnjbgf

107 notes · View notes

norestwithoutlove · 3 years ago

Text

“If jimmy came back from the dead, what do you think he’d say when he finds out Dean and cas are together and have kids”

(i was asked this on twitter and shared there. but i know not all of you follow me there i thought i’d share on here too. this is how i answered)

sorry this one took a while to answer. i wanted time to think about it because i never even considered the thought before. a lot of people say to me "imagine if jimmy had never died in tbah" and kind of miss the point of the fic. like yeah, it’d be great. it’d be great if none of the people we loved had died. yeah, “imagine if jimmy had never died” misses the point - but this question doesn't. and i think it's what a lot of bereaved people wish for, anyway. just a chance to say everything, one last time.

where to start.

i think if jimmy came back for a day (and the thought makes me cry)... he'd knock on the door of the big white house. or they'd just find him sitting in his old armchair in the living room like nothing had happened at all. but something has happened, something massive and irreversible, so maybe him knocking on the door would fit better.

jack's probably the one to open it. he frowns and thinks he recognises the face smiling back at him, but it's older than he's ever seen it, and he's not so good with faces, so he's not sure. jimmy smiles and says hello, does castiel still live here?

and jack says “yes, why?”. jimmy still smiles. his smile is wider, warmer now. he says he's travelled very far. he says he's an old family friend. could he come in? it’s raining outside. it’s raining - and though jimmy stands under the porch, it’d be mean to leave him out in it. jack pulls open the door and says if jimmy is selling anything, they probably wont need it: they have everything they need in this house. jimmy smiles and says he's glad. he treads slowly down the hall, looking around him, like he's trying to savor it. he runs his finger along the crack in the mirror that has always been there, at least since jack arrived. he smiles to himself, but it’s a little sad.

he stops at a photo of dean and castiel playing on the tire swing they made when they were kids. his eyes pinch at their corners. jack says, “what are you smiling at?” jimmy says, i was there when that was taken. jack says “oh. that's my father”. and he points to castiel. jimmy turns to jack and smiles so wide tears wring out of his eyes. he asks, really? jack frowns and says “of course”. why would he lie about that? jimmy says, i hope he doesn't miss his own dad too much. jack says “sometimes he and dean get sad about it”. jimmy pauses. castiel and dean are friends? he asks. jack nods seriously. “best friends,” he answers. “everyone knows that.” jimmy takes a gentle hold of jack's shoulder and squeezes.

jack says “that's how dean squeezes my shoulder, too”. jimmy asks, you see him often? he asks it with a hopeful smile. jack nods with a frown, very serious. jimmy laughs and says, you know, you frown just like your father. funny thing, family resemblance. jack shrugs and says “maybe, but i was adopted”.

jimmy falters. he blinks. he glances down the corridor again, and his eyes light on a different picture, taken decades after the one on the tire swing. he treads slowly towards it. jack follows after him, speaking. “i just think,” he frowns, and it's still castiel's frown, “if you really were close family friends with castiel, you'd know he adopted his children.”

jimmy has stopped in front of the photograph and he stares at it, lips parted in a ghost-smile. family, friend. family, and a friend, jimmy corrects. that’s what i meant. i’m old family, and an old friend. jack watches him. “that's them on their wedding day,” he supplies. jimmy smiles. soft tears, tears like a gentle autumn rain, are on his cheeks, now. yes, he says, it is. a little late, considering, but maybe... he trails off. timed perfectly. a heavy footfall sounds on the stairs, a thunder to match the rain outside, and claire calls to jack, “dude, you said you'd get me a snack! it’s not rocket science! what’s the holdup?” but she stops short at the sight of the old man in the hall. claire's better with faces than jack.

hello, jimmy smiles, but claire is already yelling for her dads.

it's a sunday afternoon. dean hadn't planned on being awake and active. he’d been napping while cas did a grocery run. but claire screaming to high heaven is a surefire way to set elanor into confusion. he groans and rolls out of bed, rubbing his eyes. he picks elanor up and carries her down the stairs in one arm. “claire,” he grumbles, “you know cas is out fuelling your damn addiction to lucky charms. what is it?”

he stops short at the foot of the stairs. his mouth is open and his eyes are glassy. elanor keeps asking “daddy are you okay? who’s that man?” and it takes dean a minute to stop staring before softly putting elanor down and telling her to go get her brother, jacob. “tell him there’s food in the kitchen, or something,” dean says, and jimmy hasn’t stopped staring or smiling warmly at him and his eyes are leaking autumn rain. “but there isn’t,” elanor says, and dean answers “so lie. there’s someone i—” but he can’t finish the sentence. and elanor shakes her head with serious disapproval and climbs back up the stairs.

dean steps toward him, trying to stammer out his name, but the tears strangle his voice and before he knows it he’s wrapped tight in jimmy’s arms, taller than him by far, now, but feeling eighteen again. feeling eighteen again and like he’s just finished yelling at jimmy that he doesn’t need a father, never needed a father, that he coped just fine without one, anyway. all of those things were lies when dean said them. he wants to say they were lies, wants to tell jimmy now that he needed a father, always needed a father, didn’t cope without one but that also, when he needed one most, jimmy was his father. he wants to say thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you for everything and sorry for every angry answer and scowl and bitter lie, please know dean didn’t mean them, he was just hurt and afraid. but jimmy already knows this. knew that, even then, and besides, the words won’t come. he just holds onto jimmy tight and thinks he probably did fall asleep in his bed and this is another one of those grief dreams, another one of those grief dreams that’s gonna throw him off for weeks but one he wants to savor forever.

he’s soaking jimmy’s shirt with tears. the guy smells like his old cologne. and blueberry pancakes. dean cries a little harder, afraid to let go.

“are you proud of me?”

it’s the first thing he’s managed to say to the old man. “are you proud of me?” he keeps asking, over and over again, and jimmy holds him tight and answers yes, yes, every time. yes.

and then cas comes home. cas comes home dripping from the rain from the walk to the front door and drops the damp brown paper bags onto the floor and apples roll onto the floor and he’s staring at his father and can’t speak, just like dean couldn’t speak, and can’t breathe. and jimmy is sat at the kitchen table with his grandchildren just like castiel mourned he would never be able to, and jacob is showing jimmy one of his paintings and elanor is holding his hand and claire has just made him a cup of tea, and jimmy smiles at castiel. “i see you got my last letter,” he says. and castiel steps into the kitchen and sobs that he’s sorry he never got to reply. and jimmy says that he’s sorry, too. cas shows him the little saplings they all planted for tu b'shevat, standing in a line on the windowsill. jimmy loved growing things. and cas asks how long jimmy has with them. when he’s going… back. to wherever ‘there’ is.

and jimmy says he has until the rain stops. and castiel wishes it would rain forever, that all of kansas would be blanketed in it, a second flood, torrenting about the land, and them in their own ark, the big white house, bobbing about on the water, sharing food and stories and laughter and lost time, stolen time, time which was stolen from them. aren’t his and dean’s tears a substitute enough for rain when it stops, anyway? their tears are sure as rain in autumn, and not likely to ease soon. he wishes the rain would never stop.

but it has to, eventually. all things do. no matter how blessed.

#tbah #to build a home #obviously we cant consider this canon but #honestly if jimmy could come back and see dean and cas together...#i dont think for a minute he'd be surprised #maybe unable to stop smiling but #he'd probably not even reference the fact that for a while it seemed impossible that dean and cas would ever get together #instead he'd say he was sorry he couldn't make the wedding #and they'd cry and say yeah. me too #oh and the kids !!! the kids would love him of course #i can see jacob getting so attached to him #sticking to jimmy's side like glue #eventually cas takes down the poetry book he wrote for jimmy #places it in jimmys hands #jimmy flips open to the dedications page - sees cas's handwritten note to dean in it #the note that says 'often in my mind and always in my heart. remember you were in his too'#and he smiles and looks at dean who's looking down and trying not to cry #but jimmy knows dean and presses his hand to the back of dean's neck before pulling his son and his son in law toward him for a hug #and he says youve made excellent fathers #and they say we learnt from the best #we learnt from the best

58 notes · View notes