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mickyschumacher · 26 days

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz

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shiny-jr · 7 months

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Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I love the way you write Malleus so I was hoping you would do yandere malleus x reader. where the reader knows twisted wonderland is a game (but not imposter au pls) and after they got isekia'd are trying to stop the overblots from happening and malleus is just terrified for them. Idk just an idea I've had for awhile but never found a fanfic like lol. Obviously it's totally fine if you don't want to do it or if I accidentally broke a rule. Anyway remember to drink some water and take a break if needed! Have a amazing rest of your day/night!!

Warning: Yandere (not really, not at all). Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Malleus Draconia.

Summary: MC sees affection meters and it's not good.

Note: These are mainly thoughts and random words my mind spewed out.

How did one claim victory at a game? Well, it entirely depended on the game, the mechanics and the options. It should've been impossible to lose a mobile game that was primarily composed of the gacha mechanism and visual novels.

When you suddenly found yourself in the series of twisted villains in a prestigious school of magic, you found that it was much more complex than it appeared on screen. Especially when only you could see these small bars occasionally floating above people's heads. Bars which you recognized as affection meters, nearly all of them stagnant at a dull gray 0% when you first arrived. This was the hurdle blocking your way to an easy victory. Because how else were you to escape the game, other than complete it?

Situations became messier, when you didn't have a dialogue options between two mere choices. Add making good impressions and keeping a character's favor, to the list of quests alongside avoiding death by inky overblotted characters. By some miracle, you had increased the affection of the characters you met and interacted with to a healthy 5% or 10%, sometimes more. At any cost you wished to avoid getting in the negatives, because you did not want to find out what would happen then.

Sometimes, the numbers would drop dangerously close to zero, mainly when an overblot was occuring. Never had you realized how the visual novel failed spectacularly at portraying the utter horror of the overblotted in all their wicked glory. The black inky darkness leaking from them like tears or blood with those crazed unhinged looks in their eyes–– was the stuff of pure nightmares.

And yet the one whose overblot you had been dreading the most, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, was surprisingly docile as you dealt with others. However, you knew even when conversing with him, that you would one day witness him overblot and look like some ethereal but deadly fallen angel. So mentally you prepared yourself, while taking on the task of keeping up appearances.

Malleus' affection meter, was a good 20% and a friendly pink shade, quite the accomplishment you were proud of, considering the majority of the cast wasn't even at 15%. The Draconia heir was certainly someone you never wanted to see reach below zero, so you did your absolute best to appeal to him, even if he was quite intimidating at first with the way he stoically watched you complain about the least of your worries, homework and classes.

By the time you spoke to him about your troubles with the Ramshackle dorm and Azul, during what you knew was the Octavinelle arc, the prince's affection had sprouted to a 22%. When you went into more detail of the potential loss you could face, it went to 23%.

The next time you saw him, you were weary and antsy since witnessing Azul's break-down. If the blot of his tears had the magic to gather, it would've been enough to drown, you were sure of it. Even by that maniac look in his eyes, you're sure he would've purposely drowned you if he got close enough.

Throughout that charlatan's chapter, his affection meter had slowly been rising, dropping during the overblot like the tides only to rise once again by the end to a good 45%. This was good!

But no matter how much you may have pondered, strategized, or try to predict each next action, you could've never guessed that the next time you saw Malleus after Azul's overblot, his expression taut with concern, his affection meter had made a jump to 55% and turned red. This entire time you had been avoiding the negatives, but you never once worried of the dangers and implications a red affection meter above 50% would mean for you. Or heaven forbid, anything close to 100%.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #yandere malleus draconia

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awearywritersworld · 1 year

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"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

#m!writes!smut #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smut

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hiiragi7 · 23 days

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I've been seeing quite a lot of discourse lately defining transness as "identifying as a gender opposite to/different from what society expects you to be".

This is incredibly vague, and I feel misses that, for many people like me, there is not exactly a clear gender in which society expects us to be, nevermind a clear "opposite" or "different" gender which we can identify with. Many intersex people have experiences in which one person calls us a "failed male" while another calls us a "DSD female". Many of us have been assigned, reassigned, degendered, reassigned again. In this sense, for many intersex people, it would appear that no matter which gender we are we would fall under this definition of trans if we so choose it; society so often does not expect us to conform to a singular gender, rather they expect us not to exist at all. Even for many intersex people who identify as cisgender, their gender and sex are constantly brought into question and suspected of being inauthentic, an imposter of a different gender/sex "pretending" to be cisgender. In this sense, any gender we choose is "opposite" of expectations, even cisgender identities, because we are intersex.

And yet, the discourse I have been seeing lately has been attempting to sort intersex people into easily digestible and simplified boxes based on AGAB ("AFAB intersex" and "AMAB intersex") and trying to claim what kind of intersex person is allowed to call themselves transfem based on their AGAB, as though this event at birth always determines what gendered expectations are set for you and where you can transition to after.

Which of my gender assignments should I refer to as my "assigned gender"? The choice made by the medical professionals at my birth? The choices made by my parents? At which time? By which parent? And why does it matter to people so much that I have an assigned gender to refer to when it's all so messy anyway? Why must I invent convenient acronyms to describe it to you for your judgement? Why is it not enough simply to say I know my own experiences and identity best and that it's none of your business? Why are you trying to decide for me what I should call myself?

All this to say, I wish people would stop making assumptions about and policing other people's identities. I will readily admit I don't always understand an identity, and this is a good thing; it means there is an infinite variety of us and an infinite amount to learn about each other.

I wrote this post with the recent intersex transfem & afab transfem discourse in mind, but it quite honestly applies to a lot of the very exclusionary and rigid attitudes I've seen in our community lately. Once again, why are we using the actions of oppression (for example, the action of nonconsensual gender assignments; AGAB) to define our trans identities, to the point of excluding each other within our own community? How are we helping each other in doing this?

(I do have similar questions regarding the divide in language between "AFAB transfem" and simply "transfem" - Why specifically the label of "AFAB transfem" rather than just "transfem", if the argument is that AGAB does not determine gender? Personally, I would like to move away from AGAB language altogether.)

I've never had a clear gender to transition from; I only hope that in the future the community will support people like me in using whatever language we find best to describe the gender we are transitioning to.

Trans is a word open to anyone who identifies as such. That's the best part of it.

#intersex #trans #transgender #intersex transfem #afab transfem #afab transfem discourse #queer discourse #transmisogyny #actually intersex

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the-newlymadeweeb · 9 months

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His Girl

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.

Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.

*****************************************************************************

It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.

Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.

And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.

"Luke? What are you–"

"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"

You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."

"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"

He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.

Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.

That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."

You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.

"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."

"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."

"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.

He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.

"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.

"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah you will. I love you."

"I love you more.'

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #lc

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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months

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Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger

It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.

For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.

I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.

Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.

If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.

What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.

This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.

Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.

How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.

This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.

Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.

On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.

Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.

The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.

Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.

Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)

Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god

Artist

#monsters reimagined #fiend #yeenoghu #undead #deity

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hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 7 months

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Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

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tangents-within-tangents · 5 months

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Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs.

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people.

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before:

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding:

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful.

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual:

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience.

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation.

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life.

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation

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she-is-ovarit · 1 year

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Identifying as.

This is Rachel Dolezal, who legally changed her name to Nkechi Amare Diallo. Dolezal is a white woman who identifies as black and insists that she is transracial. Growing up, her religious white parents adopted four black babies, claiming that they "saved them from being aborted", and routinely delivered strict punishments to their kids including Dolezal. Dolezal does not seem to have a good relationship with her parents and, based on interviews, wanted to distance herself from them and distance herself from rural white culture.

"I've never questioned being a girl or woman, for example, but whiteness has always felt foreign to me, for as long as I can remember. I didn't choose to feel this way or be this way, I just am. What other choice is there than to be exactly who we are?"

She apparently "passed as black" for several years before her parents came out and said that she was white and is identifying as a black woman, and she was asked in a TV interview if she was African American and responded with "I don't understand the question". She taught Africana Studies at Eastern Washington University. She crafted a fake story in growing up as black and has argued that she experiences race-based related hate crimes. She darkens her skin and gets perms and started using hair products she observed her adopted black sibling to use. She lied about her father being black and lied that her black adopted brother was her son.

I hope that as details of Dolezal's story are read about, we are able to understand that tanning white skin does not make someone a black person, that blackface is wrong and racist. I hope we recognize that what makes someone black isn't a collection of racial stereotypes, isn't based on feeling a kinship with black people more than with white people, and that being black isn't based on not feeling a connection with white culture. I hope we understand that a black person cannot identify out of racial oppression, and that a white person cannot identify out of white privilege.

Jewel Shuping, age 38 now, was born healthy but dreamed of being blind since age 13. She stated her mother would tell stories about finding her walking down dark hallways at age 3, and mentioned that by age 6 the thought of being blind comforted her. When she was a teenager, Shuping bought a white cane and learned to read braille, becoming fluent in it by age 20.

She claims to have asked a psychologist to pour bleach in her eyes so she could fulfill her lifelong dream of being blind, and that the psychologist "understood her" and agreed to do so after giving her numbing eye drops to help with the pain (which was not ultimately helpful). She deliberately waited to seek medical attention so doctors were unable to save her eyesight. Gradually, over the course of six months, she became blind.

What Shuping has is considered a real mental health condition called Body Integrity Identity Disorder (BIID), a rare condition in which people who are born without disabilities believe with conviction that the should be disabled. There is another name for this in political activist circles, termed "transableism".

"I went blind on purpose, but I don't feel it was a choice."

Several other people with BIID are pretending to be paralyzed to use wheelchairs, with many not being driven to the point of causing harm to themselves to become disabled but instead living full lives faking being disabled.

I hope that as details of the stories of people pretending to be disabled are read about, we are able to understand that feeling like oneself should be disabled is an incredibly serious mental health condition and does not really mean that a person is "disabled inside". I hope we recognize that identifying as disabled does not make someone disabled, and that feeling a kinship with disabled people or a comfort in the thought of being disabled does not mean a person truly is or should become disabled. I hope we understand how people with mental health disorders claiming to be disabled can place further strain on resources and accommodations provided to disabled people. I hope we understand that inflicting pain, disfigurement, or physical altercations on healthy people to "help them physically match how they feel" is an inhumane way to treat a mental health condition.

Paul Wolscht, who changed his name to Stefonknee Wolscht, was married to a woman for over 20 years and fathered 7 children before deciding to live life identifying as a six year old little girl. Living as a six year old little girl allows Wolscht to escape depression and suicidal thoughts because Wolscht gets to now play - even when in jail in solitary confinement for nine days for an undisclosed reason.

“If I’m six-years-old, I don’t have to think about adult stuff.”

Wolscht still drives and drinks coffee, but does so feeling and identifying as a six year old.

Emile Ratelband, age 69, petitioned the courts to allow him to change his age to 20 years younger because he "does not feel" 69 years old. Ratelband has argued that he did not feel comfortable with his date of birth, that age 69 did not accurately reflect his mental state, and that at age 69 he experiences limits.

“When I’m 69, I am limited. If I’m 49, then I can buy a new house, drive a different car,” he said. “I can take up more work. When I’m on Tinder and it says I’m 69, I don’t get an answer. When I’m 49, with the face I have, I will be in a luxurious position.”

Ratelband even asserted that doctors have told him he has the body of a man 20 years younger, and he said that he was willing to renounce his right to a pension. He argues that if people are able to legally change their sex on documents, there is no reason why he should not be able to change his age.

I hope that as we read these stories of people identifying as a different age, we are able to understand that feeling like you are 20 years younger or 40 years younger does not really make you that age. I hope that we understand that even though identifying as a different age might help avoid suicidal thoughts, being discriminated against on dating apps, or denied resources, it does not really change biologically what is. I hope we understand that there are also broader societal and legal consequences to being able to legally change one's age. That an adult might identify as a certain age to trick kids into trusting them so they can sexually abuse them, and/or that allowing an adult to legally consider themselves a different age would make it easier for adult predators to gain legal access to kids in environments in which they would normally be socially and legally discouraged from being in.

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pinkrangermemes · 4 months

Text

EPIC: The Musical

lyrics that absolutely fuck me up, feel free to change pronouns and such as needed

"A mission to kill someone's son, a foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before."

"I'd rather bleed for you."

"This is the will of the gods."

"Don't make me do this."

"The blood on your hands is something you won't lose. All you can choose is whose."

"You're as old as he was when I left for war."

"How could I hurt you?"

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home."

"When does a man become a monster?"

"When does the reason become the blame?"

"Forgive me."

"We should try to find a way no one ends up dead."

"You can relax, my friend."

"Think of all that we have been through. We'll survive what we get into."

"This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms."

"I see in your face there is so much guilt inside your heart."

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you."

"Have you forgotten your purpose? Let me remind you."

"Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind."

"Don't disappoint me."

"What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?"

"Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?"

"Your life now is in my hand."

"A trade, you see. Take from me like you took from me."

"You shall be the final man to die."

"It's just one life to take."

"When we kill him our journey's over."

"Captain?"

"You've hurt me enough."

"When I kill you, my pain is over."

"Mark my words now. This is not the end."

"Remember them."

"Who hurts you?"

"If nobody hurt you, be silent."

"He's still a threat until he's dead."

"Finish it."

"What good would killing do, when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?"

"The blood we shed, it never dries."

"I am your darkest moment."

"I am the infamous _______!"

"This way, you won't disappoint me."

"This way, you won't waste my time."

"Unlike you, every time someone dies, I'm left to deal with the strain."

"I'll remind you, I saw you as a friend, but now we're done."

"This way, you won't plague my life."

"This way, you'll close the door and have your damn goodbye."

"Since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone?"

"You're alone!"

"This day, you sever your own head."

"This day, you lost it all. Consider this as my goodbye."

"Don't forget how dangerous the gods are."

"How much longer 'til your luck runs out?"

"You rely on wit, and people die on it."

"I still believe in goodness."

"Lead from the heart, and see what starts."

"And what will we do when it tears us apart?"

"You're like the brother I could never do without."

"How much longer 'til your strength takes leave?"

"I can't have you planting seeds of doubt."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Sometimes killing is a must."

"Friends turn into foes and rivalries."

"Never really know who you can trust."

"The end always justifies the means."

"So much has changed, but I'm the same."

"I'm left without a choice and without a doubt."

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves."

"You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great."

"You are far too nice."

"Mercy has a price."

"Unlike you, I've got no mercy left to give."

"The line between naivete and hopefulness is almost invisible."

"What have you done?"

"I am your darkest moment, the monster that always draws near."

"Remember me."

"There's only so much left we can endure."

"Think of your past and your mistakes."

"No, I'm not a player. I'm a puppeteer."

"I can hardly sleep now, knowing everything we've done."

"It's a game of wits, but you don't have to play."

"A foe like ____ is not to be messed with."

"You could be hurt or you could beat her."

"I'll help you conquer her."

"Wouldn't you like your outcome preferred?"

"Don't thank me, friend, you very well may die."

"Did you do something to them?"

"I don't know who you are or why you're here, but let me make this one thing clear."

"I've got people to protect, friends I can't neglect, so now there is no turning back."

"Back at home my wife waits for me. She's my everything, my _____."

"Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road."

"This land confuses your mind."

"All I hear are screams every time I dare to close my eyes."

"I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died."

"Why would you let _____ live when ruthlessness is mercy?"

"I keep thinking of the infant from that night."

"____, when you come home, I'll be waiting."

"Even if you're the last thing I see, I'll be waiting."

"I took too long."

"I'll always love you."

"Your past is always close behind."

"I see a song of past romance."

"I see portrayals of betrayal and a brother's final stand."

"I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you."

"We've suffered and sailed through the toughest of Hells, now you tell us our efforts were nothing?"

"I see a wife with a man who is haunting. A man with a trail of bodies."

"How has everything been turned against us?"

"How did suffering become so endless?"

"Do I need to change?"

"What if I'm the monster?"

"What if I'm the problem that's been hiding all along?"

"If I became the monster, and threw that guilt away, would that make us stronger?"

"So what if I'm the monster lurking deep below?"

"If I gotta drop another infant from a wall in an instant so we all don't die, then I'll become the monster."

"I'll become the monster."

#since I haven't seen one yet #epic the musical #roleplay prompts #rp prompts #roleplay starters #rp starters #rp memes #roleplay memes #epic the musical starters #sentence starters #rp sentence starters

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444paigebueckers · 3 months

Text

PART 3: out of my league - paige bueckers

prologue previous part

✿𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚞𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✿𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚄𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕?

✿𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: cussing?

✿𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 582

✿𝙰𝙽: 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠/ 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜! 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 :)

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ

You swing the coffee shop door open, nervously surveying the room for her and her cerulean eyes that never fail to put you in a trance.

At that moment, you catch her glance. She smirks at you, gesturing for you to come join her at the table in the corner.

"Hey!" you greet her, still with a bit of hesitation and nerve behind your tone.

"Hey, freshie! glad you could make it," she replies, licking her lips.

"I'm gonna be honest when I asked you to go for coffee, I was completely unsure of where to go. Like, I still don't know much about Storrs so I spent the night Googling and looking at Yelp reviews," you admit as you scratch the back of your head sheepishly.

Paige bites her lip and laughs, "Don't worry about it, you made a good choice. Plus, I'll give you some mercy- I still don't know my way around Storrs even after being here a year already."

"So, uh, wanna order?" you suggest. "It's on me, you know, since you went out of your way to find me and give me my bottle back."

Paige smiles at you, "I'd like that."

The two of you get up and place your orders. Soon after, you receive your iced chai latte, along with her iced coffee, you carefully carry them back over to the snug corner table you'd both claimed.

Paige smiles up at you, quickly getting up to help you bring the drinks to the table.

The two of you settle yourselves at the table, awkward silence rising.

Finally, Paige decides to break the silence. "So, how's your first few days at UConn going?"

You sip your drink and reply, "It's pretty good, I mean I've met some pretty cool people already and I'm starting to settle in."

"Am I one of them?" she teases. God, you couldn't keep yourself from blushing as she messed with you like that.

You tease back, "I guess you could say that."

The two of you spend the next hour getting to know each other further, on a friendship level of course (?).

Abruptly, KK walks in, her eyes filled with surprise at the sight of Paige with you, a girl she's completely unfamiliar with.

"Paige!" KK shouts across the cafe.

"Oh fuck." Paige mumbles as she slowly turns to KK.

KK quickly approaches you both, giggling as she walks over.

"Soooooo......who's this?" KK asks, looking you up and down, maybe out of slight interest.

Paige catches onto KK's intrigued glance and replies, "This is Y/N. She's on the soccer team at UConn. She's a freshman so I figured I'd get to know her."

You smile at KK, "Hey! Nice to meet you."

KK replies, "I'm KK, Paige's teammate. You're new around here?"

"Yep", you reply.

KK grins mischievously, "Oh my god, you should totally come out to Ted's with us tonight then. I'm sure the team would love to get to know another athlete and it'd be a fun way to meet new people. What do you think Paige?"

Paige smiles and nods, "That sounds great. You seem super cool and I'd love to spend more time around you."

THE Paige Bueckers just told you she wanted to spend more time with you, right after you both went on a one-on-one essentially unofficial date. You still had no idea if she liked girls or not but your days at UConn kept feeling more and more like a dream come true.

#wlw #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wcbb x reader #uconn women’s basketball #wbb x reader

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teojira · 4 months

Text

[Caesar and Proximus' day to day life] [headcanons]

Summary: You're a human companion to the two apes, this is little things to expect as you live with them and in addition, the rest of the apes.

Word count: 900+

Warnings: None that I can think of! This is mostly platonic, some romance in Caesars if you squint.

Pronouns: Not specified.

A/N: first Planet of the apes request!! I'm so excited, shoutout to the other writers on ao3 I've looked up to for years. I hope this is okay anon! I couldn't reference back to your ask since I lost it and I hope this is the general idea you were hoping for 💀🙏

[Caesar]

For the sake of this, Caesar did NOT die at the end of war, and you're immune to the disease! (Nova is also fine here bc fuck you that's my daughter)

Truth be told it was very very very fortunate for you that you appealed to his good side after all this time, He's tired.

Tired of being hurt, tired of losing family, but he has no choice but to push on, when you offered at first to help him with any injuries or issues that arise in the colony, it's a firm no.

Despite everything he's been through, Caesar does love humans, he think a part of him always will, so just keep trying and you will crack his shell.

Once you two finally have something akin to friendship, is when he finally learns that he can rely on you.

It isn't uncommon to see you holding Cornelius and walking to and from different parts of the colony, Caesar trying in vain to tell you to let the boy down, saying you'll start to spoil him (it's too late, Cornelius will start to go to you for when his dad tells him no.)

Caesar doesn't really think he'd ever find another mate, but without his notice, you start to fill in that role.

Spending the most time with him, helping him make decisions, taking care of Cornelius, helping the other apes learn and sign, you take on the role fairly well.

It isn't uncommon for you to tend to his wounds, he prefers to go to you versus the others, he acts akin to a child when in your care though, hissing dramatically when you rub a salve on his forearm. It results in you slapping his shoulder and it makes him laugh.

Speaking of laughing, he never thought having you around would lighten the weight of the world he constantly holds over his shoulders, you make him feel young again. Before all of this.

He grows fonder of you when he sees some aspects of Caroline in you, noting just how loving and caring you are not only to him, but to everyone, Maurice, Rocket, even Bad ape with how much of an odd ball he is.

Caesar may be the leader (and old, you remind him. He ignores you.) but it doesn't mean he can stay at the colony all day, he goes out to hunt with the others, and when he does, he'll come to you and do a palms up, waiting for your permission.

He doesn't need it, but it makes you feel better when you see him off.

Maybe this is me projecting but he is SO possessive of you, he's lost so much, he lost Buck, Luca, Blue eyes, Cornelia, Koba, Will, his grandfather.

It puts him on the defense, never wanting you to go anywhere without at least one ape to protect you. It'll lead to arguments you Will not win.

Sorry if you just want to go to the river to wash up, either he's coming with you or Rocket is. Too Bad so sad.

Other apes come to you to ask you to ask Caesar if they can do something they Know he would never approve of, it's because they know out of everyone here, with the exception of a handful of apes, you're his soft spot.

Many apes were concerned with you joining them, but you've earned your spot among them, you are loved and trusted.

Koba would be rolling in his grave, seeing you work alongside Caesar, being a genuinely good person and a loving companion.

[Proximus]

It's canon that Proximus has a fondness for humans, but it's so severely different than Caesars, no matter how much he claims to be like the former.

You're more so of a toy to him, similar to Trevathan, but while he reads the Bonobo literature and teaches him things, you're like a pet. You keep him entertained.

This isn't to say he treats you cruelly though, all things considered, you're taken care of fairly well with a lot of luxuries the other apes under his rule are not privy to.

You wear a collar, which is demeaning, but it is better than having a chain connected to it, so everyone knows you're his.

Poor Sylva being forced to be your guard when you ask if you can go walking alone the beach, he doesn't want to do it but he WILL (he becomes fond of you begrudgingly, partially out of respect for Proximus but you're too nice for your own good, asking him how his day is going and whatnot. He hates you.)

Proximus calls you pet, btw. He knows your name but will only use it when it's the two of you or for special occasions.

Brings you out into the colony to show you all the progress being made, he's looking for his ego to be inflated, go ahead and do it so you two can head back inside and get out of the heat.

He likes to show you off while he does, telling his subjects that you're special, like Nova was to Caesar. He's delusional and Caesar would be fucking pissed to be compared.

He doesn't need you to do much honestly, you're meant to sit there and look pretty and make him feel important. Maybe help him out with grooming and taking care of his belongings. He trusts you to mend and keep his crown and his attire in good condition.

Likes to play with your hair, the texture is different than apes, and he finds it soothing to run his fingers through it or just pet your head. Once again, it is very demeaning, but it could be worse.

Like Caesar, he is possessive and will try and limit your contact with the others in fear you'll like them more. Your little trio consists of you, himself, and Sylva. He lets you interact with Trevathan, but it's not an everyday thing.

He does care for you more than he'd ever admit, but it doesn't mean he'll particularly change for your sake, at least not intentionally. He's kinda insane and kinda a piece of shit, and you're aware of this.

Makes you sit next to him when he hosts dinners, making sure to pat your head and coo at you (When Noa first sees you at the table getting treated like how he'd treat an eagle, he gives you one of his signature side eyes bc lmao what the fuck is going on)

When it comes down to the ending of the movie when he dies, you're at a loss, Mae frankly thinks you're too far gone, and Noa is not willing to take a chance to offer you a home.

All you have really left to do is to go back to the colony and what's left of it, back to the remaining apes and humans still left unattended. Telling them they're free to go.

At some point among the years of being the closest to Proximus, you do care for him, and it's hard to think he's gone, he offered you a sense of security and belonging, but it's gone now.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

#heres the apes post lets see if anyone unfollows me /j #i dont care i warned on the pin LMAO #teddy loves apes ☆#planet of the apes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #planet of the apes caesar #kingdom of the planet of the apes Proximus Caesar #Proximus Caesar #Caesar

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 4 months

Note

Yooo this is not a request but it’s an idea and it came to me in a dream so I must share 🤭

(It’s kinda dark tho)

Okay so after Ultron, Wanda’s lost everything. Her brother, her home. So when someone *cough cough* dark Natasha comes along one day, suddenly claiming that Wanda was hers and hers alone, Wanda thought nothing of it. She needs to be loved, and Natasha was offering that. So fast forward a bit right, they’re dating. And Nat never lets Wanda see her dark or sadistic tendencies, not outright. She treats the witch with love and affection, but she’s just firm enough to make sure she follows the rules, like always listen to her, don’t leave the house without permission, and ect. And Wanda was happy to do so. After all, she had Nat. Why would she want to leave? So R, a new avenger, stumbles upon their relationship and upon seeing it’s not healthy, tries to convince Wanda of that. As expected, Natasha doesn’t take too kindly to these attempts. Wanda is hers after all. So she kidnaps R, with the full intent of torturing and killing her, but she’s like mmmm R’s kinda cute and Wanda gets kinda lonely when I have to leave for missions so what the hell. But before she can let R have any type of contact with Wanda, or anyone for that matter, she needs to be re-trained. And if Nat can corrupt a powerful witch into being dependent, submissive, and docile, she’ll have no problem doing the same to R.

Lmao sorry this was long but I had to get it out. Again, not a request, just an idea I had! 💕

Becoming Yours

Dark!Natasha x Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Natasha is possessive over Wanda in an unhealthy way. When you try to come between them things take a turn.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dark themes (kidnapping, torture)

A/N: I've never written something like this so I hope it's okay!

After the fall of Ultron, Wanda Maximoff was adrift in a sea of grief. She had lost everything: her brother, her home, her sense of purpose. Her heart ached with the weight of it all, a hollow space where her twin once stood. Days bled into nights, and the world seemed to blur around the edges.

Then one evening, as the shadows grew long, Natasha Romanoff appeared in her life. There was a darkness in her eyes, a fierce, possessive edge that sent shivers down Wanda’s spine. Natasha’s presence was commanding, intoxicating in its intensity.

“You’re mine, Wanda,” Natasha whispered, her voice a soft, seductive promise. Natasha’s hand caressed Wanda’s cheek to which Wanda melted against. The touch of another for the first time in months. “And I’ll never let you go.”

Wanda, desperate for an anchor, for anything to fill the void inside her, found herself unable to resist. She craved love, needed it like a drowning person needs air, and Natasha was offering her just that. The lines between right and wrong blurred as Wanda allowed herself to be enveloped by Natasha’s embrace, surrendering to the fierce passion and the promise of belonging.

In the depths of her soul, Wanda knew she was making a dangerous choice, but in her brokenness, she clung to Natasha’s love like a lifeline, allowing herself to be consumed by the darkness.

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Natasha treated Wanda with a kind of reverence, showering her with affection and care. She was the steady presence Wanda had craved in her life, always there to hold her, to whisper soothing words when nightmares of Sokovia or Ultron haunted her sleep. But Natasha was also firm, ensuring Wanda followed certain rules, ones that she insisted were for Wanda’s own good.

"Remember, always listen to me, Wanda," Natasha would say, her voice gentle but unyielding. "It's for your safety."

Wanda nodded, feeling the warmth of Natasha's hand against her cheek. "I understand, Nat. I trust you."

"Good girl," Natasha murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Wanda was happy to comply. After all, she had Natasha. Why would she ever want to leave? Natasha's rules felt like a small price to pay for the love and security she provided. Wanda never left the house without Natasha's permission, and she always made sure to check in, just as Natasha had asked. It became second nature, a routine she didn’t question.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Natasha's arm wrapped protectively around Wanda's shoulders, Wanda looked up and smiled. "I love this, Nat. Being here with you. It feels...right."

Natasha's eyes softened, and she stroked Wanda's hair. "It is right, Wanda. We're meant to be together."

Wanda nestled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment. She didn't see the flicker of possessiveness in Natasha's eyes, nor did she notice the way Natasha's grip tightened ever so slightly. All she felt was the warmth of Natasha's love, and that was enough.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Wanda’s world shrank to the confines of their home, but she didn’t mind. Natasha was her world now. She didn’t need anything or anyone else. The occasional moments when Natasha’s firmness bordered on something darker, Wanda brushed aside. Natasha was only looking out for her, protecting her.

"Wanda," Natasha said one day, her tone serious. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Wanda replied without hesitation.

"Never question my decisions. They're always for your benefit. Can you do that?"

Wanda nodded, her eyes filled with trust. "I promise, Nat."

"Good," Natasha said, her expression softening into a smile. "You make me so happy, Wanda."

"And you make me happy," Wanda whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

As Wanda rested her head on Natasha's shoulder, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was loved, she was safe, and in Natasha's arms, she had found her home. Little did she realize the delicate web she was entangled in, one spun with threads of love, control, and unspoken darkness.

--------------

You had joined the Avengers not long after the fall of Ultron, eager to make a difference and help where you could. It didn't take long to notice the peculiar dynamic between Natasha and Wanda. At first glance, they seemed like a perfect couple, but as you observed more closely, something felt off. Natasha's control over Wanda was unnerving, and the way Wanda seemed to shrink into herself whenever Natasha was around set off alarm bells in your mind.

One day, you found Wanda alone in the common room, her eyes distant and filled with a sadness that tugged at your heart. You took a deep breath and approached her.

"Wanda, can we talk?" you asked gently, sitting down next to her.

She looked at you with a small, forced smile. "Sure, Y/N. What's up?"

"I've been noticing some things...about you and Natasha," you began cautiously. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Are you happy with how things are?"

Wanda's smile faltered, and she glanced away. "Natasha takes care of me. She's...protective. It's just her way."

"But Wanda," you pressed, "it seems like she's more than just protective. You deserve to have your own freedom, to make your own choices without fear."

Before Wanda could respond, Natasha walked into the room, her expression darkening as she saw the two of you together. "Y/N," she said in a dangerously calm voice, "I need to speak with you. Now."

You felt a chill run down your spine but nodded. "Sure, Natasha."

She led you to a secluded part of the base, her grip on your arm like a vise. Once out of earshot, she turned to you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"I'm just trying to help," you replied, keeping your voice steady. "Wanda deserves to be happy and free."

Natasha's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wanda is mine. She doesn't need your help, Y/N. But it seems you need a lesson in minding your own business."

Before you could react, Natasha struck, and darkness enveloped you.

When you awoke, you were in a dimly lit room, bound to a chair. Natasha stood before you, her arms crossed and a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"You've been a thorn in my side, Y/N," she said, circling you slowly. "But I've been thinking. Wanda does get lonely when I'm away. Maybe you can be of use after all."

You glared at her. "I'll never be a part of this. Wanda deserves better than to be controlled by you."

Natasha chuckled darkly. "Oh, you'll come around. If I can make a powerful witch like Wanda dependent, submissive, and docile, you'll be no trouble at all."

She moved closer, her face inches from yours. "First, though, I need to re-train you. Can't have you trying to contact anyone or running off, now can I?"

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Days turned into weeks, and Natasha subjected you to a relentless regime of psychological and physical conditioning. She alternated between harsh punishments and twisted rewards, breaking down your resistance bit by bit. The isolation and constant manipulation were almost unbearable, but you clung to the thought of Wanda, the determination to free her from Natasha's grip fueling your will to resist.

Natasha watched your struggle with a cold, calculating gaze. "You're strong, Y/N," she admitted one day, a hint of grudging respect in her voice. "But everyone has a breaking point."

She leaned in, her voice a whisper of menace. "And I will find yours."

Despite the darkness, you held on to a glimmer of hope. You had to believe that somewhere within Wanda, the strong, independent woman you admired still existed. If you could find a way to reach her, to show her the truth, perhaps together you could break free from Natasha's control. For now, you had to survive, endure, and wait for the right moment to turn the tables on Natasha Romanoff.

-----------------

Despite your initial resolve, Natasha's relentless conditioning eventually found your breaking point. She was a master manipulator, using a combination of psychological and physical tactics to wear you down. Isolation, sleep deprivation, and the constant pressure of her presence slowly eroded your resistance. Her voice, once a source of anger, became a guide, a comfort in the dark. She played on your fears, your loneliness, and your need for connection until you began to depend on her.

The day you broke was marked by a quiet acceptance. Natasha knew the exact moment your spirit gave in, your eyes losing that last spark of defiance. She smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes, as she gently caressed your cheek.

"There, there," she murmured. "It's all right, Y/N. You don't have to fight anymore. You're safe now."

You nodded numbly, your world narrowing to the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand. The idea of rebellion seemed distant, almost impossible. Natasha had become your anchor, and you found a strange comfort in the structure she provided.

Natasha brought you into her fold with Wanda, and the two of you became bound by your shared dependence on her. Wanda, ever the empathetic soul, welcomed you with open arms, relieved to have someone who understood her situation. You and Wanda grew close, finding solace in each other’s company, both tethered to Natasha in your own ways.

---------------

Life with Natasha was a blend of affection and control. She treated both of you with a kind of twisted love, ensuring your needs were met while reinforcing her dominance. She showered you with affection, making you feel valued and cherished, but there were always rules to follow.

"Remember, my loves," Natasha would say, her voice soft but firm, "I do this to protect you. You need me, and I need you."

You and Wanda nodded obediently, grateful for her attention and care. The rules became second nature: always listen to Natasha, never leave without permission, and always show her your loyalty. The outside world faded into the background, your lives revolving around Natasha and the home she had created for you.

One evening, as you and Wanda sat together on the couch, Natasha watching with a satisfied smile, you felt a pang of contentment. Wanda leaned against you, her hand in yours, and you felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known before.

"I love you both," Natasha said, her voice filled with possessive pride. "We're a family, and I'll never let anyone come between us."

You and Wanda echoed her sentiments, your voices blending in a quiet affirmation of your bond. The outside world seemed distant, almost irrelevant. You had Natasha, and in her control, you found a strange kind of peace.

---------------

As time passed, the dynamics solidified. Natasha’s control was absolute, her presence a constant reminder of your dependence on her. She was careful never to show her darker tendencies outright, but the underlying threat was always there. You and Wanda followed her rules without question, your lives intertwined in a delicate balance of love and submission.

In those rare moments of clarity, you wondered what might have been if you had resisted longer, if you had found a way to free Wanda and yourself. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the reality of your situation. Natasha had molded you both into the perfect companions, reliant on her for everything, bound by a mixture of fear and affection.

And so, you stayed, locked in a dance of submission and control, your world defined by Natasha's rules and the strange, twisted love she provided.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#ley writes #ley writes requests #dark!fic #dark!natasha romanoff #dark!natasha x reader #dark!natasha x wanda #dark!natasha x wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat x gn!reader

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