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magicalbats · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 Day 12: Harbingers x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7456

Warnings: Afab!reader, Traveler!reader, noncon, orgy, bondage, sensory deprivation, vaginal fingering, piv, squirting, brief pelvic exam, whatever is going on between Childe and the reader

A/N: I decided to keep this one to just the Harbingers I was familiar enough with so Scaramouche, Childe, Arlecchino, Dottore, Pantalone and Capitano are featured. Six people definitely make for an orgy, right? Right. But a fair warning for the Capitano fans , after taking what I currently know of him into account he ended up largely being a bystander for most of this until the end so I just wanted to be clear on that expectation going into this. I still haven't gotten around to the 5.1 Archon Quest yet 🙈

⭐

The Balladeer is not gentle about the way he steers you down the chilly hall, his grip on your upper arm pinching and tight even through the heavy coat he’d thrown over you to ensure you didn’t succumb to frostbite. You were grateful for that small act of kindness from him since it was the only thing you’d been left with other than your boots, but you were still freezing underneath all that excess of fabric and fur. Hardly any surprise there. Snezhnaya was even more frigid and inhospitable than you’d expected it to be.

As to why he’d stripped you bare, you had no idea. After capturing you inside the old, decrepit Inazuman mansion where the Fatui were operating their Delusion factory out of, he’d kept such a close eye on you that you never would have had the chance to retaliate or escape even if you’d wanted to try. And you did. More than anything else, you wanted to flee from him and return back to the island nation so you could search for Paimon. She was the second person you’d been forcibly separated from in Teyvat and that knowledge stings more than you would have expected it to. You just hoped she was alright, wherever she was.

But as soon as you’d reached the Snezhnayan border, Scaramouche had taken the time to relieve you of all your clothes before replacing them with the heavy cloak you were currently bundled in. Initially you’d assumed he was going to do something truly heinous and disgusting to you but, to your ever growing uncertainty, he’d left you alone after that. You were inclined to think it was just some sort of foul humiliation tactic meant to further solidify your position as a captive and discourage any thoughts you might still harbor about escaping. It was clear that the coat wouldn’t save you indefinitely out in this harsh environment.

Now you’re not so sure though. He’d relentlessly dragged you all the way here from Inazuma, hardly even stopping long enough to let you rest or eat along the way, and had barely spoken more than five words to you over the long journey. And he was clearly proud of himself for capturing you. That was easy enough to see at just a glance, yet he hadn’t gloated about it or dangled it over your head. It seemed more likely that he had an objective in bringing you here like this, in such a vulnerable state of helpless undress, and you were understandably nervous of what awaited you in this magnificent yet eerily cold and silent palace.

“Relax.” He snaps at you when you start to drag your feet, roughly yanking on your arm to keep you in line. “We’re almost there.”

Stumbling alongside him, you have no choice but to comply. You were regretfully powerless to do anything about it when your wrists were tied behind your back with a thick knot of unbudging rope and you can’t even complain about it either. Effectively gagged to silence with the uncomfortable bit of bamboo he’d wedged in your mouth, all you can do is impotently hiss around it as he pulls you along.

Finally you reach the end of the corridor where he leads you straight up to the imposing set of massive, intricately carved double doors that loom up out of the dreary darkness at you. They almost look like something a giant would have used rather than any mortal person and you anxiously wrench back on his hold in an attempt to stop him from taking you any further. Somehow you got the sense you weren’t going to like what awaited you on the other side.

It doesn’t work though, of course, and Scaramouche easily keeps his bruising grip on your arm as he reaches for the smaller, more human looking door built into the impressive structure. The hinges give a vaguely ominous creak when it swings open to grant the two of you entry but he doesn’t even give you a chance to fight it before you’re tripping through the entryway under his guidance.

You immediately understand that your intuition was correct and you were right to fear what was inside as soon as your eyes land on the long, ceremonious table situated within, and Childe promptly shoots up out of his seat at your sudden appearance.

“Traveler?”

Noising a wordless exclamation at him, you swing your attention around at the rest of the room's occupants. You didn’t know any of the other Harbingers by their looks alone but you could probably guess at some of their identities based on the brief descriptions the Eleventh had given you back in Liyue.

The one with the beaked mask was probably The Doctor and based on the chilly, disinterested look she sends you you’d wager the woman was probably The Knave. You’re not sure about the bespectacled man with dark hair or the toweringly large one with his face covered, but it was probably safe to say that they were just as dangerous as Childe had said they all were.

Your skin nervously prickles as you break out in an ice cold sweat, jerking your attention back and forth over the assembled faces. Where was Signora?

“You really did it,” The beak masked one marvels, sounding really quite pleased by this development. “And the gnosis?”

“Our Fair Lady is taking care of it.” Scaramouche says, making you snap your head around to look at him in surprise. Glancing over at you at the sudden movement, he studies your face for a short beat before he allows his mouth to curl in a mean, haughty little smirk. “Oh, did you not realize she was in Inazuma too? After already running into her twice before you really should have expected as much, right?”

You squawk at him through the gag but there’s too much happening in the room all at once as people start to stand up from their seats for him to pay it any mind.

Swinging his attention back around, Scaramouche looks down the length of his nose at his fellow Harbinger’s like a powerful king might regard his lesser peons. That manages to impress you somewhat, given his ranking as only the Sixth. “Where are the Tsaritsa and the others? I’ve brought back a souvenir for us all to share.”

“Her Majesty is not in the mood to see anyone today.” The imposingly tall man in the mask says, unfolding himself from his chair to rise. Your eyes widen slightly when you realize how much bigger he actually is than the rest of them, but then you register that Childe is coming towards you and he manages to successfully distract your attention from the others.

“What happened to you?” He murmurs as both of his gloved hands reach out to cradle your cheeks between the gloved palms. You’re almost floored by how tenderly he tips your face up at him, looking you over with those depthless blue eyes, but all you can respond with is a weak little mewl through the gag.

It was making your jaw hurt something fierce, unseemly drool threatening to escape from the corners of your stuffed lips. You prayed he at least would be kind enough to take it out of your mouth for you but he doesn’t get the chance.

Aggressively yanking on your arm, Scaramouche pulls you away from Childe so hard you nearly stumble right into him but you manage to catch your balance just in time to watch the taller ginger round on him with a snarl. Surely they weren’t going to come to blows fighting over you … right?

“What do you think you’re doing? Explain yourself, Balladeer. Now.”

“Please. Spare me your weak sentimentality, Tartaglia. It’s enough to make me wretch. The Traveler is my prisoner and I get to decide what happens to her, at least until the Tsaritsa issues her final verdict for her crimes. But until then, I call the shots. Not you.”

“Bastard - -“

“Boys.” The only other woman in the room calls over, drawing your gaze to find she’s also stood up and come around the table to lean against it with her arms crossed. Lifting a somewhat sardonic brow at you, she condescendingly tips her head to one side. “I believe The Balladeer is correct. He captured our little guest which makes her his prisoner. It is not our place to question how any in our ranks accomplishes their goals.”

“That’s hardly the point, Arlecchino!” Childe insists, confirming that you had indeed guessed her identity correctly. “Prisoner or not, she’s - -“

“In safe hands, I’m sure.” The Doctor throws in with a smug, simpering smirk under his mask. “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa only said not to kill her. She never said anything about not being permitted to … play with her a little bit. Don’t you think this is an ample opportunity for us to properly introduce ourselves, Regrator?”

You follow the direction he glances in to see that he’s talking to the one with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. So that was Pantalone, then.

Huffing and puffing his frustration with all of them, Childe disbelievingly glances around at the assembled Harbingers as if he couldn’t quite believe what they were suggesting. It’s not hard to see he’s the closest thing you have to an ally here, but he was only one in a group of six and the youngest among them at that. There was no way he’d be able to save you from your ultimate fate unless he wanted to take everyone on by himself.

And given the way his hands clench into tight, angry fists at his sides, you’re not so sure he won’t do it.

“And what exactly are you proposing we do with her?” Arlecchino finally hedges, ignoring the murmurs of rising discourse from her colleagues in favor of getting straight to the point of the matter.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Scaramouche clicks his tongue in annoyance as he jostles you forward to stand just in front of him. “We’ve got a point to make now that we have her so why pretend otherwise? None of you are good people so don’t kid yourselves into believing otherwise. Yes, that includes you, Tartaglia.”

Your wide, panicked eyes flicker in his direction to find Childe opening his mouth to snap at the puppet, his body so stiff and tightly braced that you think he might really launch himself in attack. He never gets a chance to follow through on it though as Scaramouche’s unoccupied hand comes up to grab a fistful of your cloak and yank it open with a violent jerk.

All at once your bare body is assaulted with a sudden, merciless rush of cold air, and you squeak a horrified sound around the gag as you jerk in alarm. Your nipples were already stiff and achingly pointed coils, and they just tighten even more against the wafting air to make you tremble a sensitive shudder. Whatever Childe had been about to say dies in his throat, choking on it when his mouth drops open in genuine shock. It’s like he truly couldn’t believe what he was seeing and you whimper a flustered sound at him, pleading for him to help you.

“Don’t even think about it.” Scaramouche viciously hisses behind you, though you can’t quite tell if he’d aimed that at you or his colleague. But it doesn’t really matter either way, because he just shoves you forward to steer you towards the table without giving anyone a chance to say anything more about it.

Openly blinking at the fleshy bounce of your naked tits, Arlecchino slowly unfolds her arms and steps aside to allow The Balladeer room to shove you up against the side of the table. You wildly kick and flail, struggling against the rope keeping your arms bound behind you with every ounce of strength you have left, but it’s no use. After a perfunctory fight for leverage, he manages to get you hauled up on the table and flipped over where he roughly pins you down by the shoulders.

Raggedly panting through your nose now, you peer up into Scaramouche’s leering face. The distant prickle of frightened tears registers somewhere far in the back of your mind but you valiantly force them back, knowing good and well that such display of weakness wouldn’t do you any good here. Not in this particular crowd. Not with these people, and you merely hiss like an incensed cat as you try to squirm free of his hold.

“Mmffh!”

“That’s it, Traveler. Keep struggling. I’m sure that’ll just excite some of us even more.” The Sixth croons at you, laughing a silken, throaty sound under his breath as he crawls all the way up to fully straddle you.

For a split second you can make out a commotion rising up behind him but it’s quickly subdued, and Arlecchino’s soft spoken voice filters through the oppressive atmosphere immediately after. She must be talking to Childe, you think. No doubt trying to talk some reason into him even though he was the only other reasonable person here besides you right now.

Unfortunately you don’t get to linger on that thought for very long because a gloved hand reaching into your space catches your attention, and you squeak a terrified sound as you tip your head back to follow that arm up to its owner. Somehow you’re not particularly surprised to find it’s The Doctor curling his fingers around the meat of your tit to give it a consideringly tight squeeze, making you whimper at the sharp discomfort. He just chuckles a low laugh though, clearly amused by the flash of pain that crosses your face, and he quickly does it again.

“Fret not, little Traveler. If Tartaglia wants you so bad then we’ll be happy to give you to him. After we’ve finished playing with you first, of course.”

“I didn’t take you for the sort, Dottore. Your interests always seemed to lean more towards that of machine than the comfort of human women.” The exceptionally tall one comments in a rather offhand manner considering what was happening right in front of him.

“Oh, but you wound me, Captain. I’m always a scientist first and foremost before anything else, and I’m quite curious to find out how human this one really is.”

You noise an equally confused and startled sound at that, brows furrowing up at his awful beaked mask. If Scaramouche hadn’t been pinning you down with the full brunt of his weight, you would have happily flung your foot through the air to kick him right in his smug face and you would have taken a great deal of satisfaction in doing so. Something told you he probably deserved it more than anyone else here.

But then the sensation of another hand slipping over the opposite side of your chest startles you back into the present, and you glance over to find Pantalone gently groping at the weight of your breast. At your helpless wail through the gag, he just smiles a deceptively saccharine look at you, head tipping to one side almost inquisitively.

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, you know. I’ve heard so many good things about you but I wasn’t expecting such a formidable swordswoman to be quite this pretty. You’re a lovely little thing, aren’t you?”

Working his fingers a bit higher, Pantalone rather unceremoniously grabs hold of your pebbled nipple to give it a thoughtful tug. The immediate burst of sharp, hyper sensitive sensation makes you twist on top of the table but it’s no use. They’ve got you so thoroughly pinned down and trapped between them that no amount of effort on your part was going to get you out of this. Your only hope was Childe and he’d gone mysteriously quiet wherever he was in the room, if he was even still here at all.

The thought that he might have left you to the wolves scares you more than it has any right to, and you try to call out to him through the bamboo gag. This, too, is an effort in futility though. Even you’re not quite sure what you’re attempting to say.

Humming a thoughtful sound, Dottore gives your aching tit one last, lingering squeeze before dragging his hand further down your body. Your stomach wildly flexes under his palm, fast pumping fear making you inch dangerously close to full on panic, but he just keeps going. Lower and lower.

Scaramouche is quick to take his empty spot and, leaving his hands pressed into your shoulders to keep you down, he bends his head over your chest to take that abandoned nipple in his mouth. You outright jolt at the sensation and suck in a startled breath but there’s too much happening all at once for you to focus on any one thing. It’s hard to say if you should be more concerned about the Sixth Harbinger enthusiastically suckling at your sore teat or the way Pantalone is insistently tugging on the other to stretch the pliant skin.

Even worse is the vague sense you get of Dottore stepping into the space at the bottom of the table where he rather forcefully shoves your legs apart in a wide spread. Your cunt is the only part of your chilled body that feels in any way warm at this point, but that natural heat seems to quickly leave you without the press of your thighs there to keep it in. The end result makes the fleshy seam feel indescribably bare and exposed in a way you’d never known before, like you were overly aware of every tiny little sensation that courses through it, and you wildly buck underneath Scaramouche in an attempt to dislodge him.

“Keep her still, won’t you?” The Doctor coos as one of his gloved hands slides inward to lightly tease over your pussy. “I’d like to find out what sort of state her reproductive organs are in.”

You squawk a startled sound at that but Pantalone just tweaks your poor nipple harder for it.

“Now, now,” He murmurs in that liltingly soft voice. “If you don’t behave yourself, we’ll have to resort to doing something that will make you feel a bit more inclined to cooperate. Surely you don’t want it to come to that, do you?”

The pointed, deliberate way he pinches down on the teat between his fingers makes your stomach twist itself into knots for reasons you can’t quite explain. Despite his arguably polite and handsome facade, you suspected he was just as dangerous as Dottore probably was. It wouldn’t be smart to test your luck with either of them.

So you simply lie there and take it, wincing as The Doctor sedately works your cunt lips open and slips two long digits in to apply pressure just at your entrance. You let out a smothered cry when your body tries to reject him, not even close to being excited enough to make the penetration smooth and easy. But he simply keeps pushing in on that vulnerable spot until he can slowly inch his way into you down to the knuckle. It’s uncomfortable and borderline painful, especially with the material of his glove adding another layer of friction that didn’t need to be there, but he doesn’t care. None of them do, except maybe Childe, and all you can do is noise a shrill sound around the bamboo when Scaramouche suddenly bites down on your nipple none too gently.

And to think he’d had you completely at his mercy this entire time but decided to hold off until he could really humiliate you and drive the point home with the other Harbingers. It was astoundingly petty of him.

“There, that’s a good girl.” Dottore croons at you as if you were nothing more than a dog for him to bring to heel in his eyes. It’s an impression he only further solidifies when he gives your tender inner thigh a series of companionable pats before taking that hand and sliding it up to brace along your lower stomach. “You might feel some pressure but it’s nothing to worry about. Take a deep breath now …”

He starts to push down then, surprising an undignified squawk out of you as he presses right in on your uterus. At the same time he angles the fingers in you upward to feel along your inner sleeve and gently massage against you, alarming you even more when you feel your cunt reluctantly respond to the clinical stimulation. It feels like your heart is going to jackhammer right out of your chest as you stiffly writhe against the top of the table, struggling just to keep drawing oxygen into your lungs while he rudely violates you like that.

“Hmm. Everything certainly seems to be in order. I suppose you really are just a girl after all. Lucky you.”

“Isn’t that good news?” Pantalone teases you, tauntingly walking his fingers down the length of your shuddering body to crowd in next to Dottore’s between your thighs. “The Doctor has given you a clean bill of health, which means we can play as much as you’d like.”

You give your head a terse shake, trying to tell him you didn’t want to play at all. But of course he doesn’t listen, slyly curling his fingers inward to lightly rub over your clit and help Dottore in his effort of turning your own body against you. The two of them work in shockingly perfect tandem with one another, almost like they’ve done this before. While one thrusts in and out of your cunt to encourage the production of sticky slick, the other caresses over that sensitive pleasure button to ensure you were feeling just good enough to help the process along. It was insidious and cruel.

Not nearly as cruel as the way Scaramouche can’t seem to detach himself from your aching breasts though, and now that Pantalone has vacated his spot he quickly redirects his mouth to slurp on the opposite nipple instead. Except it’s already so raw and sensitized from the bespectacled man’s merciless tugging and pinching that the puppets mouth shocks a ragged gasp out of you.

Your head spins wildly from the total onslaught of stimulation as you blindly kick your legs in a desperate bid to at least push Dottore away enough to give your pussy a short reprieve. But he’s situated too firmly in the space between your legs for you to budge him from this angle, and the heel of your boot just harmlessly slides right off his hip.

Clearly realizing what you’re trying to do, Pantalone reaches down to hook his free hand in the bend of one knee and tug it out the side so you wouldn’t be able to find enough leverage or try to close your thighs from The Doctor’s concentrated attack. The sound of your cunt wetly clicking under the vigorous force of his hand seems to echo endlessly in the space between your ears and you valiantly try to fight it when the internal pressure steadily builds under his ministrations.

There’s nothing you could do to stop it though when Dottore seemed to know exactly where to jab his fingers at inside your body, making your pussy scream in agony at the rough treatment. But against all odds you suddenly feel the dam break and your cunt let’s down under the insistent pressure, spraying slick all over his wrist and along your shuddering inner thighs. Outright wailing in horror, you mindlessly renew your effort to thrash yourself free but, still, it’s no use.

You were completely, utterly trapped.

“That’s a good girl, Traveler. Such a sweet, obedient little cunt you have.” Dottore croons at you, his voice laced with sharp edged malice. “I haven’t had need of a woman in at least two-hundred years now, but for you I think I’ll make an exception.”

“Wait.”

You startle at the sound of Arlecchino’s voice coming from right beside you, blearily glancing up to find her standing just next to your head. Somehow you’d almost forgotten she was there at all.

“Wait for what?” The Doctor impatiently snaps at her.

“Let Childe have her first. He’s the youngest so it doesn’t seem very polite to make him wait until after you’ve already used her up, and … he’s still not particularly happy about what’s happening anyway. It should make him feel better if he understands what we’re doing to her.”

A faint growl rises from Scaramouche when he finally brings his head up from your aching chest, leaving the nipples feeling flushed and raw in the wake of his mouth. “Watch it, Knave. I thought we already agreed she’s my prisoner.”

“No one is disputing that, Balladeer. I’m only suggesting what I think will benefit us the most. Besides,” Cooly dragging her gaze over to regard you, she studies your frazzled, wide eyed expression for a short moment. “I suspect she will appreciate that consideration as well. After all, their rapport with one another is a fascinating development that I don’t think any of us saw coming. It only makes sense to capitalize on it, no?”

Scaramouche draws a quick breath to snap back with something no doubt sharp and biting, but Dottore cuts him off with an abrupt laugh.

“She's right, puppet. This should at the very least be an interesting show to watch.” Abruptly slipping his fingers out of you with a tiny wet slurp to leave your pussy weakly contracting around nothing, The Doctor steps to the side to presumably make room for the Eleventh Harbinger. “Go on then, Tartaglia. I’ve already got her warmed up for you. Surely at your age you don’t need any instruction on how to fuck a woman, do you?”

You can’t quite make out what’s happening behind Scaramouche aside from a briefly heated exchange that makes you foolishly hope he won’t go through with it. Childe could still put a stop to this if he just didn’t give in to Dottore’s jeering peer pressure and instead used his brain to think of a way to get you out of here.

But when The Balladeer pushes up to sit on top of you, throwing a vaguely disgusted scoff over his shoulder before he grudgingly moves to climb down, you implicitly understand that this is not going to work out as you’d hoped it would. He would have no reason to dismount otherwise when he’d seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your breasts like little more than a newborn.

Sure enough, once everyone has moved aside enough for you to lift your head and glance down at the foot of the table, you find Childe standing there with a truly tortured look marring his youthful face. He’s visibly torn and conflicted about the situation, whatever feelings he had for you clashing with his duty as a Fatui Harbinger. You had no idea what Arlecchino had said to him but it must have been sufficiently convincing if he was even considering this.

“Mmffhh! Mmm mmnngghh!”

Slowly lifting his head at your wordless cries, Childe looks down at you with a truly regretful frown tugging at his expression. And for a drawn out moment he just stares at you, spread out on the table completely naked save the tall boots on your feet and the heavy cloak spread out underneath you. It was something you probably would have been happy to show him under better circumstances, but better circumstances would not have found five of his peers standing around you in a loose circle watching on in rapt, fascinated silence.

It was enough to make anyone cry, and you sniffle rather sadly when he at last gives his head a solemn shake.

“I’m sorry, Traveler. If you hadn’t been caught … if you hadn’t let Scaramouche defeat you and take you prisoner we wouldn’t have to do this. But you’re a threat to our plans only as long as you can back it up, so we have to show you just how powerless you really are.”

As if you really needed to have that demonstrated to you like this!

Indignantly squawking, you try to push yourself upright to sit but Arlecchino is quick to grab your shoulder with a clawed hand and shove you back down. Even realizing for the upteenth time that you were thoroughly at their mercy like this, you still weakly kick your legs in the air in an attempt to dissuade anyone from slipping between them again.

But Childe just shuffles forward to grab your ankles easily enough despite the flailing, forcing them to bend towards your chest as he steps right up against you. The front of his pants presses into your bare cunt like this and you immediately squeal at the weight of him pushing in on your body. For a split second you almost don’t believe it. That he would really get this achingly stiff from watching you be defiled by other men, but he was young and hot blooded enough that it made a certain amount of sense. Of course the fight to subdue and dominate would get him worked up.

“Mmffhhh!”

“Shh, shh. Just relax, Traveler. I promise I won’t hurt you, okay?”

That hardly makes you feel any better as you screw your eyes shut and turn your head away so you don’t have to watch Childe reach down to free himself from his slacks. In truth, you would have otherwise been happy to sleep with him but not like this. Just not like this!

“Oh, isn’t that cute.” Pantalone purrs from somewhere just to your left, chuckling a soft laugh under his breath. “I think our little guest is getting emotional now.”

“As expected.” Dottore agrees with him, also laughing at your expense.

“Here.” Arlecchino suddenly says, prompting you to blink through the rising sting of tears at her. You’re more than slightly taken aback to find her holding a long, dark strip of cloth in front of your face and you whimper up at her in question. “This should help. Deep breaths now, sweet dove. That’s it. Just relax.”

You realize she’s going to blindfold you as she starts to bring it closer but there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it, mewling a helpless sound while she works to tie it off at the back of your head. With the loss of your eyesight comes an even greater perception of your hearing and you listen to Childe fumble between your legs as your neck lolls back against the table. There was certainly comfort to be found in the impenetrable darkness but it doesn’t do much to ease the nausea inducing anxiety in your gut. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse.

But you don’t even have the ability to tell her you don’t want it when your mouth is still thoroughly gagged, and you pitifully jump when Childe finally reaches down to take hold of your hips. Dragging you closer to the edge of the table, he takes a moment to press his cock into the seam of your body again, this time without anything standing in the way, and he just basks in the sticky heat coming off you for a drawn out beat.

You understand in a far off, dreamy sort of way that this was really going to happen and your powerlessness to stop it soon has the tears breaking free to soak into the cloth around your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Traveler.” He says again, one last time before the fleshy drag of his cock head angles down to your entrance where he slowly starts to push in.

You plaintively squawk at the pressure on your already sore and abused cunt, fiercely shuddering underneath him as he leans his weight into you to help ease himself inside. The worst part is that he’s far from small and he stretches you out even more than Dottore’s fingers had, but at least he’s gentle about it where The Doctor certainly had not been. It’s a small consolation in this nightmarish scenario, and even for as much as you appreciate it you can’t quite seem to stop your chest from frantically heaving with the labored gasps you suck in through your nose.

And he sensitively groans over you, clearly trying to stifle the sound but your enhanced hearing picks up on it anyway. You didn’t doubt his feelings on the matter were not dissimilar to yours, yet he doesn’t stop. He just keeps reaching deeper and deeper into your body until he at last settles his pelvis against yours with a rattling breath and you positively squirm where he’s got you impaled on him. Your arms were already long numb from laying on top of them for so long with the circulation to your hands impeded by the too tight rope, but they still scream in protest at your restless fidgeting.

“Burn everything, that’s a tight fit.” Childe murmurs, breathless and stretched thin.

He stiffly hovers you for another moment, no doubt trying to find his bearings, which you were admittedly glad for the chance it gives your pussy to adjust to his size. But then, he’s moving against you, experimentally rolling his hips at first and that quickly turns into a halting, unevenly cantered thrusting motion that makes your tits start to bounce with the force. The sensation of your painfully stiff nipples cutting through the air is a stark one, prompting you to dramatically arch your back in a vain bid to stop them from moving so much.

It fails, of course, and you hear Scaramouche suck in a faint breath that he doesn’t actually need from the right side of the softly creaking table. You weren’t entirely sure what his fascination with your tits was about, but you weren’t convinced it was anything good.

“She likes it.” The Captain announces rather abruptly, reminding you that he was standing off to the back of the gathered assembly to disinterestedly watch the proceedings. You can’t help thinking that was probably for the best, as you really did not want to find out how big someone of his size was firsthand.

Worst of all, you were ashamed to admit that he was right. Despite all the rough treatment and the less than ideal circumstances, your pussy was indeed warming up to the stretch of Childe’s cock inside you, and tingly little sparks of pleasurable friction were beginning to light up all of the nerve endings in a potent rush. Oh, this could not be happening right now.

“I think she’d like it more if you put your back into it.” Dottore drawls, adding his two mora even though no one had asked him. Of everyone here, you found him to be perhaps the most insufferable of all.

Grunting a masculine sound, Childe distractedly shifts against you to presumably glance over at The Doctor. “Hey, this isn’t supposed to be a spectator sport, you know. If I’d wanted your — ooughn, your commentary, I would have said so.”

“Well, I for one think you’re doing a spectacular job.” Pantalone chimes in, the condescending note in his otherwise pleasant voice making a self conscious shudder work down your spine.

“Damn. Just be quiet! All of you.” Hunching further over your prone frame, Childe wraps his fingers around your ribcage so he can nudge you down to meet the rhythmic push of his narrow hips. It hadn’t taken him long to fall into a natural, even paced tempo that makes the meaty smack of his skin colliding with yours ring loud in the room.

You can also pick up the sticky clicks coming from your cunt each time he drives into you, carving out a space for himself and forcing your squeezing cunt to take him, again and again. It’s humiliating to realize just how wet you were getting, all the more so when you knew at least half of it was because of that damned Doctor.

For better or worse Childe doesn’t seem to take any offense, or at least his body doesn’t, and he quickly begins to lose himself in the tight clutch between your legs. The initially tentative thrusts turn quick and desperate, his hips taking over for his higher functioning mind to instinctively guide him towards the finish line. You can tell, just as the others likely can, that he’s not very experienced when it comes to this particular activity, and you almost find yourself feeling thankful for that when his hushed grunts soon take on a dire tinge. This part of your humiliation at least would be over sooner rather than later.

“How cute.” The Balladeer snips, clearly unimpressed with the effort of his colleague but Childe deliberately ignores him.

He’s much too caught up in chasing his release now to pay them any mind, your breath hitching in your throat when his fingers start to subconsciously dig deeper into your sides. He was getting close and, you were beyond mortified to realize, your own arousal was steadily ratcheting up as well to nearly keep pace with his. The tension in your guts was tortuous but you don’t quite make it to the breaking point before he heaves a sensitive sound and yanks himself back, once again leaving your pussy to impotently squeeze around nothing.

You can tell by the sharp, seething hiss he lets out that he’s cumming — probably straight into his waiting hand, if you had to guess — and a dizzying rush of numb relief immediately crashes over you. At least you probably didn’t have to worry about him getting you pregnant. Aside from Pantalone you weren’t so sure about the others, if they even had seed that could take in your womb, but you were glad for Childe’s foresight on the matter all the same. It seemed he still cared about you on some level.

“Bah!” Dottore suddenly exclaims, making you jolt in surprise. “Get out of the way, Tartaglia. I should have known better than to leave this to you. What’s the point in it if you don’t even leave your mark on her?”

A brief shuffle of bodies starts up by your feet, the two of them no doubt trading places again, but you’re distracted by a pair of hands carefully touching your head. You give a fearful little start only to realize it must be Arlecchino, given the sharp claws, and you whimper a soft sound when she nudges your neck up to get at the tie keeping your gag in place. It takes you a prolonged moment to understand that she’s going to remove it from your mouth, your heart galloping out of control as you suck in a harried breath.

Thank the stars! Your jaw felt like it would never work right again after being wedged open for so long.

“Watch and learn, boy.” The Doctor says ruefully from somewhere down by the foot of the table but you hardly have the presence of mind to focus on him right now.

The strip of bamboo finally loosens and you weakly work to spit it out as Arlecchino reaches around to pluck it from between your swollen lips. You suck in your first real, full breath of air in a very long time when she pulls it away, feeling dizzy and more than a little nauseous from the head rush.

You’re still gingerly working your jaw to try and restore some of the feeling to the numb joints when she carefully angles your head back against the solid wood, holding you in place as if to make sure you can’t escape.

“Wha -“

She’s suddenly kissing you, smothering your mouth with hers to swallow the squawk of surprise you let out. There was some part of you that has assumed she wouldn’t touch you, either by virtue of not being attracted to another woman or because she would have no need for the boys’ leftovers once they were through, but she’s managed to successfully catch you off guard.

Perhaps even more concerning is the fact you slowly start to kiss her back, coaxed into it by the steady, demanding push and pull of her painted lips. There’s something in the way she works her mouth over yours that begets compliance and you’re hardly in any position to fight it.

Until, that is, you feel Dottore line himself up with your entrance, the fleshy brush of his glans against slick creases and folds causing you to startle. Rattling a vicious sound, you yank your mouth away from Arlecchino’s to turn your face up at The Doctor even though you couldn’t see him through the blindfold. You know he’s there though and that frightens you perhaps more than anything else at the moment, but The Knave merely slides one of her elegant hands forward to wrap it around your neck.

“Little Traveler,” She softly hums at you, giving your throat a brief squeeze. “Are you so frightened of my colleague here that you think you can forget about me?”

You give your head a mute shake, struggling just to keep your lungs expanding as Dottore roughly enters you with a quick snap of his hips that seems to sink him about halfway inside. The only indication you have that he’s not quite finished yet is the rumbling sound he issues before leaning further into you, feeding even more of his cock into your pussy, and you choke at the sensation of being stretched open in a completely different way than before. You didn’t think he was necessarily bigger than Childe, but the shape of him …

“Uwa - aaaah!”

“Hush, girl. This is no way for a warrior to face their enemy in defeat.”

The sound of The Captain’s voice suddenly right beside you alarms you a great deal, and you blindly push back on Arlecchino’s hold with a frantic little sound. Anything but him. Anyone but him!

The Knave firmly keeps you in place though no matter how wildly you try to thrash yourself free, keeping your head slightly elevated while Dottore begins to fuck into you with quick, demanding thrusts that seem to knock something loose within you. Your pussy positively gushes around him, loudly sucking at his length each time he angles his hips back now, but you’re a bit too distracted by the sensation of something massive leaning over you to give him your attention right now.

It must be The Captain getting right up in your face, of that you were almost certain. Oh, how you wished you could see what was going on. But when you try to work your mouth to ask Arlecchino to remove the blindfold, all that comes out are tiny, breathless little moans that Dottore forces up your throat each time he sinks himself in you straight down to the hilt. You couldn’t even get your tongue to formulate a single word now that you were actually capable of speaking. Dammit.

“I expected better from you.” Capitano rumbles, making you uncontrollably shake when you realize he seemed to be hovering mere inches from your nose. What was he — “I usually have no interest or need for such activities, but I can see now that you haven’t been taught this particular lesson yet. You need to learn from a more accomplished warrior before you are set loose again.”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about but then you feel something slimy, long and snake-like reach out to flick over your cheek and you practically wretch in disgust. Was that a tongue?

“Do you understand why I brought you here now, Traveler?” Scaramouche purrs almost directly into your ear, so close you can feel his lips just barely brushing against your skin. You can’t help the gasp you suck in at his unexpectedly close proximity only to immediately choke on it, teeth gnashing when his hand comes up to idly pull at one of your nipples again. He was a relentless thing! “If she doesn’t already, she will soon enough.” Pantalone softly adds to further make your head spin. It seemed like there were too many voices and sounds coming from all around you, your overwhelm only exacerbated by the constant drilling of Dottore’s cock into you. It was too much and you felt like you were going to be sick. “After all, we have to wait for Her Majesty to decide her final verdict so we’ve got plenty of time to ensure she understands. Don’t worry though, Traveler. We’ll make sure to take good care of you while you’re here.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #arlecchino x reader #self insert bullshit #il capitano #il dottore #pantalone #arlecchino #scaramouche

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galebrainrot2024 · 10 months ago

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GalexFemYou Boat Scene 18+

Summary: FemReaderxGale NSFW 18+ on the boat in the astral plane after you and Gale discuss the crown. Tried to be a little slower and tender in this one. Done at the request of another, thank you for the idea! :) Content: Explicit and slow piv sex, Minors DNI!

Master List | Read on Ao3

“I don’t think I deserve you at times - I told you of my ambitions, the likes of which many would baulk at - and yet, you remain at my side. Permit me to show you something, please? Indulge me - a little boat voyage, that’s all.”

Despite your hesitation, you obliged - Gale meant more than words could express and you knew you’d do whatever you needed to help him see that.

“Astra navigabimus.” As he uttered the words, you felt your consciousness and body shift, pulling away from the material plane and cast elsewhere. It was jarring and surreal, yet you kept your eyes shut, trusting Gale implicitly.

“Few mortals ever glimpse what you’re about to see,” Gale said in a husky, quiet voice as his warm hand engulfed yours. “Don’t be alarmed, I’m here with you. Open your eyes.”

You inhaled, the air around you a chilled mist. Goosebumps undulated across your skin as your eyes fluttered open, absorbing the impossible swirls of purple and blue iridescence that surrounded you. As you drift on the small wooden boat, your fingers lithely traced the air, trying to capture the gossamer fog.

You turned to Gale, his face bright and the impossible colors swirled in his dark eyes. “The outer planes… this is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play things of us.” He frowned, gesturing to the skies, “They would keep all of this from us - the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them… die for them. What if we didn’t need them and welded their power instead to help ourselves in all the ways they refuse to?” Gale’s voice was thick with anticipation and delirium, “I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality… with you by my side.”

You froze, gripped by the possibility of what he offered. You’d be lying if you said the thought wasn’t tantalizing… yet, as he sat here before you, pleading and desperate for approval, you knew that Gale - the man before you - was enough. He would always be enough. When was the last time he’d been told that?

Had he ever been told?

“I don’t need the stars, Gale,” you laced your fingers with his and brought his palm to your lips, brushing them against the skin. “I have you.”

Your romantic gesture fell on deaf ears as Gale insisted: “Then have me, but have the best, possible version of me. The tadpole, the orb, these threats to our existence, the gods could aid us if they wished and instead they cower behind Ao. With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent, any obstacle dwarfed by our might.” Gale sighed, clutching your hands like a penitent seeking redemption. “I used to believe Mystra was worth dying for. I was wrong. You showed me how much I have to live for. With you, I forget my goddess.” Your heart thrummed violently, threatening to jump from your throat and your body instinctively began to scoot forward, craving him. “I love you. Tell me you feel the same, that you want what I want… please..” Gale’s voice broke and you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and rested your forehead to his.

“I love you for the man you are,” you said, brushing your lips tenderly to his and he shuddered, emitting a gentle groan. Your knees were flush to his and you moved forward, chasing the adrenaline that flowed through your veins like a raging river.

“Think of what I offer, the vastness of eternity, the Weave at our fingertips… you’d really prefer me as I am?” Gale looked into your eyes, the dark pools beseeching earnestly for your truth. Could you mean it?

“You’re everything I need you to be,” you murmured before allowing your fingers to twine into his hair, pulling him close as your lips captured his. His gentle moan ignited the blaze within you and you feel the heat between your thighs stir.

Gale returned your kiss passionately, hungrily, a man starved with disbelief that mortality would be enough. “I hope you’re right. Godly power I can live without but you - you’re everything.” His hands ran up your thighs, brushing against the soft skin and teasingly trailed closer to the source of your desire. “You put the stars to shame… let’s sit here awhile, I want to drink you in.” He brushed his tongue across your lower lip before he sought entrance, your tongues gliding together in the familiar wonton dance. He tasted faintly of earl gray and something rich - perhaps a lingering flavor of the nights meal.

Your bodies entangled with familiarity, and you felt Gale’s smirk widen against your lips. He pulled back for a moment to caress your cheek and rested his forehead to yours, “Would you be opposed to staying here a bit longer?” He murmured as his fingers traced the edge of your shirt, tickling your torso beneath. You shivered, feeling the electricity burn and you whimpered as his cool hands pulled the shirt over your head. He licked his lips as his eyes consumed you, his pupils blown wide with desire, his cheeks flushed a dark pink. You shook your head, the bitter mist shrouding you as heat swelled in your center.

Gale leaned forward, his lips brushing against the freckles that littered your shoulder and your hands trailed under his shirt, lifting. He obliged, leaning backward as you slowly pulled his shirt off. Typically, Gale and you would ravage one another if given the opportunity.

Tonight, though, felt different. You craved him tenderly, wanting each moment to be a standalone symphony. You traced the orb, how its tendrils licked up his neck and brought your lips to the pattern. He sighed, pulling you closer to him and the seats of the boat seemed to de-materialize as you and Gale stared at one another, admiring.

A plush blanket appeared beneath you and you rose a brow curiously as your fingers ran over the sensual fabric. Gale wrapped his arms around your torso to pull you into his lap. Your legs circled his waist and you cupped his face in yours, allowing your lips to meet in a supple, painfully slow kiss. You moaned as his tongue sought yours, as he slipped it into your mouth greedily, your hips rolling against his for friction. You felt the girth between his thighs stir as your hips rocked and you pressed yourself tighter to him as the kiss deepened. The carnal need grew, rooted in your core as the lustful dance began.

Gale’s lithe fingers hooked into the waist of your pants and you gasped, the iciness of his touch juxtaposing the primal heat pooling within you. He took his time unlacing your pants before pushing them unhurriedly down. His eyes flick down to your clothed sex and you heard him intake his breath sharply. Gale leaned forward, kissing you lecherously. Each move of his tongue was precise and painfully slow, and you felt your body begin to squirm impatiently. You felt him grin against your lips as he cupped your chin and pulled your face closer to his as his tongue indulged.

Your fingers clumsily worked to remove his trousers and he chuckled, “Let me lend you a hand,” he said as his fingers grazed yours. He shook out of the pants and your eyes widened as you admired the firm tent pressed against his underwear. He guided your hand, slipping it beneath his underwear and he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his arousal. He was warm, firm and you felt a surge of dripping arousal soak your underwear. He groaned as your hand circled him and began to deftly pump, matching his agonizingly steady pace. His fingers sought entrance between the cloth of your undergarments and sex and trailed along your inner thigh, right where the seam met your skin.

You mewled, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection glide against your covered arousal. Your hand worked quicker before his hand covered yours, his breath hot and quiet as he murmured, “Let’s take our time tonight…” Your body was desperate, wanted to move with a vicious urgency yet Gale continued with such excruciating gentleness. A light brush would likely be enough to send you off the cliff.

His fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you squirmed, seeking him and friction. He chuckled darkly before slipping his fingers away, “The more impatient you are, the longer I’ll wait…” he teased and you leaned forward, biting into his neck. The sinful noise that fell from his lips sent another wave of arousal through you.

“Gale, please,” you begged, your wetness seeping from your underwear and onto his, leaving evidence of your need. Gale traced your lips with his fingers and you shivered, licking the fingers before you before pulling them into your mouth. Gale groaned, his hips bucking upwards into you as you sucked on his fingers. “Touch me,” you whimpered against his fingers and he brought his slick hand into your underwear.

“Rather needy tonight,” Gale teased again and he moaned as his fingers slipped between your folds, “Gods, how divine… how eager you are for me…” as he slid his fingers between your thighs you rolled your hips, whimpering again. His thumb circled your clit, the movements unrushed despite your protests. Gale kissed you again as you gripped his shaft, encircling him as you toyed with him, wanting to feel him inside of you. Gale, as if reading your mind, said, “Have you been patient enough?”

You shook your head, moving your hips, deprived of his fingers. You felt him slip a few into you then, stretching you slowly and massaging you. The sudden entrance made you shudder violently and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers pressing into his back as you moaned. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, biting down to stifle your unholy sounds.

“No need to suppress yourself,” Gale murmured, pushing your hair back as he thrusted his fingers harder into you, forcing your body to tighten around him with arousal. “I want to hear you,” he demanded, pressing deeper into you and against the deepest source of your arousal. You cried out and bit down on his neck again.

You lifted your hips, bringing them down onto his fingers and you mumbled against his neck, “I need you, I need more…”

“Woe be it from me to deny you…” he murmured, pushing your underwear off your body and did the same to himself. He held himself for a moment, stabilizing as you brought your hips over his erection. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you gazed into his lustful, brown pools and felt him fill you. Your mouth watered as you brought yourself down deliberately only allowing the tip of him in.

He whimpered, thrusting his hips up and you pulled back, smirking. “Why the rush?” You retorted and he growled, surrendering to you. You rolled your hips before bringing yourself fully over him, allowing him to stretch you full and welcomed him into your slick cunt. You both moaned as he filled you and he thrusted into you aggressively, gripping your hips. Your lips brush against his neck, his jaw, until your tongues are tangled again and he drove into you. Your bodies moved of their own accord now, both of you desperate for release and pleasure, the sensations overwhelming. Every fiber of your being thrummed with sin and you moved quicker, pulling him deeper into you and clenching around his erection. He moaned as you did, gripping your waist tighter, using his other hand to pull your hair back and kiss you. Sweat began to cover you both as your movements became carnal, needy - your breathing jagged and unsteady as you felt yourself swell with bliss and ecstasy.

“I….” Gale moaned, the kiss sloppy and wet, “I… please…” his voice was raspy and deep as he thrusted violently into you and you cried out, begging for more, needing more. Abruptly he flipped you over so you were on your stomach, he hovering over you and pulled your hair back to kiss you. You moaned as you felt him enter you again from behind, your hips rolling backward to bring him further into you. He held your hair to steady himself, the pain from the pull overstimulating as he filled you. Your mouth was full of hot saliva and you whimpered as he grew more urgent, your bodies moving together in a steady, unholy rhythm. He pushed so hard against you that you felt a sharp pain and cried out, enough that he paused for a moment to whisper into your ear, “Are you alright?” And you nod, delirious from the pleasure, and you heard him whisper, “Come for me, then.”

You press your face into the blanket and muffle your cries as he pumps deeper, harder, and his hand wraps in front of you for his thumb to circle your clit. It’s too much. You writhed and every cell in your body seized, tensing in preperation until you heard him groan gutturally, his hot climax filling you as your own climax roiled through you. The unadulterated bliss that pulsed through you was divine, both of your bodies moving in shared harmony, in your shared symphony of pleasure. Gale collapsed onto you, his lips pressing to your ear and neck as he murmured praises, how much he loved you, how much he adored you and when your breath returned to you, you rolled onto your back, cupping his face in your hands. “Mortality has its perks..” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as you smirked.

Gale laughed, pulling you tighter to his chest, kissing your forehead. You settled into a comfortable silence, allowing the boat to rock you as you both marveled at how lucky you both were to have one another. “I can’t wait to explore your body a thousand more ways… eternity wouldn’t be enough for me.”

#gale smut #gale bg3 smut #gale of waterdeepthroat #gale fanfic #gale kiss #gale angst #gale fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfic #gale x femreader

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multific · 2 years ago

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The Ones Left Behind

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: smut, impotency, incorrect book spoilers

A/N: This is lightly based on the books, so if you are not looking for spoilers don’t read.

Summary: After the war, only two remain in the giant castle.

You were married to Aemond not long before the war began. His mother and yours were great friends at one time, and so, your marriage to one of her sons was unavoidable.

You were there through all the pain. You have seen so many deaths. So much misery that you wanted to run.

You wanted to leave and never come back. But at the same time, you never wanted to leave.

You loved Aemond. He was a great husband.

You were there when Aegon got hurt. Your heart broke for him.

"Where's the King?" you asked a servant.

"In his room, resting."

"Alone?" she nodded at you, confirming your suspicion. While your husband was ruling, Aegon was all alone in his room, suffering.

You headed over to his room, entering without question or warning. There you found him, shaking in pain, sweating as his eyes found yours. You could see he was trying to hide his pain but he couldn't.

You walked over placing your palm on his forehead.

"You have a fever." you said as you quickly moved to the other side of his bed where the nurses stored every medicine. You looked around at the labels. Finally, you found two vials. "This one will help with the pain, the other will help with your fever." you said as you tried to give him the medicine but he refused to take it, slightly moving his head away from you. "Come on now, I'm only trying to help Aegon, please." you said as he looked into your eyes. As if searching for lies.

He didn't say a word, only took the medicine from you.

Soon, his breathing evened as you sat by his side on the bed, your hand holding his, checking his pulse as he just looked at your face. You sat there for a good couple minutes, trying to make sure his fever was going down.

"It's okay, go to sleep." you smiled as he slowly closed his eyes.

You really shouldn't have such feelings for another man. Especially when you were married to his brother but you couldn't help it.

Aemond, while you still loved him, was a cold man. He didn't care for you, and while he didn't hurt you in any way, his revenge and family values were more important to him than anything. Even if that meant leaving you behind.

On the other side, you only heard bad things about Aegon, what he used to do, what he did to the servant girl and all of his antics. You heard nothing but bad.

So, you expected him to be much like his actions. But his eyes said otherwise. He looked more like a broken old man who had been through way too much.

You watched while the Queen hugged and cherished her other children, she clearly didn't care as much for Aegon.

The only time you saw her smile was when he was crowned. But even then, you saw she wasn't happy for her son, but rather for herself, being the mother of the King.

Aemond wasn't a terrible husband by any means. While he liked to ignore you, he had his kind and gentle moments.

But he was filled with anger and rage.

And that ended up being his end.

Aemond died in the war, fighting against his uncle. A true tragedy and you truly mourned his loss. The loss of your husband.

Thankfully, the war ended soon after.

Leaving only you and Aegon behind.

Your parents reached out many times even during that time, but you refused to leave. And after, the news of you being a widow made your mother ask you to move back, after all, what do you have left?

Nothing.

You had nothing.

You were a widow, childless and you had no one.

But neither did Aegon.

You remember after the fact, when everything calmed down, you were walking down the quiet hallway when you came face to face with him.

You wearing your black dress while he had his crown on his head.

It was only you two left. And you had a feeling, he too, realized that right then and there.

Things became a lot quieter.

While you have won, you didn't feel like a winner.

"I will have a statue erected for my brother. In his memory." he told you one morning almost a year after his death.

"I think that would be lovely."

"I do have to ask Y/N, why are you still here? Almost everyone left, even the servants..."

"I have no one. Where would I go?"

"To your parents."

"My parents... they will have me marry an old lord or sell me off. And if I leave, you would be alone as well."

"I'm used to being alone."

"I don't want you to be."

"Used to it or alone?"

"I don't want to be alone and I don't want you to be alone either. The way I see it, you are all I have left. Aemond let his revenge consume him and it lead him to a grave. While I did love my husband... it wasn't the kind of love I was hoping for."

"What kind of love were you hoping for?"

"You will laugh at me." you said as both of your plates were taken.

"I promise, I will not."

"Remember when you were hurt and I went to your room? You might not because you were really sick, but... I helped you and while I know how bad it is... I felt in that moment that while I was married to Aemond, I wished to be your wife."

Everything went still.

The silence in the room was so thick it nearly suffocated you. You felt a cold feeling run down your spine as you avoided his eyes.

"My King, the council is here." interrupted a knight as he arrived at the diner. It made you quickly stand and leave.

You were so stupid! Such an idiot! Why did you have to open your mouth?

You could have left it at that! There was no need to confess your deepest inner feelings!

Why did you dump it all on him? Why were you so stupid? How will you ever look into his eyes again?

Thankfully, you barely had to see him that day, he spent so much time in meetings.

But then dinner came.

And you were terrified, knowing there would only be the two of you.

You hoped Aegon will choose to ignore the topic as will you.

But as soon as he made all the servants leave, you knew you were in for a long night or embarrassment.

"Did you mean what you said this morning? Or were you just saying it so I don't send you back to your parents?" he was avoiding your eyes, and you were avoiding his, you took a deep breath.

"I meant it, Aegon." this time, he took in a deep breath before releasing a long sigh. As if the weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"When mother said she found a wife for Aemond... when she said Aemond was to marry a young woman, one of her friend's daughter... I nearly drowned in jealousy. I was forced to marry my sister and Aemond could marry a beautiful woman... I was furious."

"Your sister was a very beautiful and kind woman."

"But I didn't want her. And then you arrived. You are so beautiful, I would have given my own eye just to be married to you. Aemond often said you are a good wife. He often taunted me by saying kind things about you, but I knew the truth and so did he. He knew you didn't love him and he knew I wanted you. He was smart, and I felt a little guilty for longing for his wife. And then, it was you who came to my aid when I was hurt. Not my mother or brother, not even the nurses or the healer, but you. I remember you sitting there by my side, holding my hand and helping me with my pain. You looked like an Angel."

"I felt very bad for feeling like this. All I heard were people telling me how awful you were. One time, your mother drank too much and she just... kept going on and on about you. All I wanted was to slap her."

"I'm open to try. I can get us married by the morning or tomorrow. That way your parents will stop asking you to go home and you can stay here with me. If that is truly what you want."

"I think it is all I ever wanted." a smile finally found its way to your lips. "You have changed a lot." he made a face at that.

"Yeah well, sorry to already burst your bubble, but your new fiancé has his own... issues." you knew what he meant. You heard him yelling at the nurses the day he realized he could no longer use his cock. You heard him throwing and breaking things.

"I know. I heard you that day." he looked away from your face. "You must think lowly of me if you think I would only care about that."

"I do not. I just wanted to give you a warning before the wedding so you can run away." he placed his hand on the table, turning his palm to you, asking for your hand, which you gave to him without thinking.

"I'm not going to run away, Aegon. As long as you don't."

"I won't." he suddenly looked back at you.

And it was all done, as you two smiled at each other, he did not lie. By the morning you two have been wed.

Once you let know your parents that you were once again married, they got off of your back, and no more letters. This is how much they truly cared about you.

But you were happy with Aegon.

Your life was rather simple and comfortable considering you were King and Queen.

It was you two and the servants.

They called you Queen which didn't affect you, but when Aegon called you his Queen, now that did the trick. Always making a blush creep to your face and you smiling at him.

He really did change a lot after and during the war.

And now, he stood before you, a real man.

"Congratulations my Queen." as soon as the nurse said that, you didn't need to hear any more.

You stood up and ran into the throne room where the lords just left from, they all bowed to you.

"Leave us." you told everyone and waited for the room the be cleared. "I have great news!" you turned to Aegon who was now standing in front of you. "I came from the healers. Looks like you are not completely useless as you tend to claim." you smirked and he looked at you confused.

---

Your wedding night was anything but usual. It was more of him and you talking about your insecurities. He opened up about his scars. He showed you his arm and legs. He told you that no matter what, he couldn't get hard after the fire.

He told you how he hates fire now.

It didn't stop you from trying though.

You tried for many moons.

"It's not working! Nothing is working."

"Aegon, it is okay." you tried to calm him as he got out of bed, agitated as he started to pace around.

"No, it's not! I use those fucking things to please you because I can't! I hate this! I can't fuck my own fucking wife!"

"Hey, don't say that! You do more than enough with your fingers and mouth and I don't mind your toys. I don't need your cock, I just want to be close. I don't care that-"

"I care. I care about this and about you. I finally have the perfect woman as my wife and my fucking body is..."

"You had a terrible accident. You had broken bones and you were burnt badly. I care more about the fact that at least you are still alive. I care not for your..."

"Say it, Y/N. Impotence."

"I don't care for your impotence Aegon. I care about you." he took a deep breath as he sat on the edge of the bed, you moved so you could lean against his back, running your hand up and down his skin. "I love you." you whispered and you felt and saw him shiver.

"I love you too."

"I know, and I know that's why you are so agitated but I'm telling you there is no reason for you to be, I'm happy as long as you hold me every night and kiss me every morning."

You felt him shake with a laugh.

For the next moons, you two just stopped thinking and let everything happen.

You were happy.

You still missed Aemond, but the statue that was erected in his honour did look exceptionally good. You saw it as the true end of your chapter with him.

As you placed a single blue flower against the bottom of the statue.

"Goodbye, My Love." you said as you walked away.

Aegon and you were really comfortable around one another. You picked up his bad habits while he picked up your good ones.

All lords were surprised to see the King was always on time as they were more surprised to see their Queen reaching for extra wine during dinner.

But they did see the love you two shared.

You giggled as Aegon put you to bed.

"Your laugh is so sweet."

"I have something else which is sweet." you said with such a tone, Aegon almost laughed but you were serious. Drunk, serious and horny. "Would it be too much to ask my husband to use his beautiful lips and fingers on me tonight?"

It wasn't. And it also wasn't the only thing that Aegon used that night.

---

"You remember about... three weeks ago? When you were able to get hard?"

"Yes, I wasn't able to since."

"And I was feeling sick after?"

"Yes, you have been running to the buckets since, but what does this have to do with anything?"

"It looks like the Gods have been extremely generous with us. They not only let you use your cock but... I'm with child."

Aegon nearly doubled over.

"You...how is that possible?"

"You might not be able to get hard, but it seems like that one time was more than enough. The healer confirmed just now. I'm pregnant. Are you not happy?" you asked, suddenly worry filling you.

"I am! I am! I just don't believe it!"

"You know I'm loyal to you right? I haven't been with another man."

"That's not what I mean! I know you wouldn't, Y/N. I'm just so confused. Are you really pregnant?" you nodded.

"Yes." you confirmed with words and Aegon immediately hugged you.

You were so happy. So extremely happy to see his eyes swell with happy tears as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"Thank you. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Aegon."

Perhaps it all would have been different if you married Aegon instead of Aemond from the beginning. It wasn't possible you knew that, but the what ifs still played in your mind daily.

But now, now you had a reason to focus on the present. A little gift from the Gods.

A new start for both of you.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARIZE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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currentlyherlunch · 2 months ago

Text

IN THEIR HANDS

── .✦ Ellie & Abby x you

── .✦ fem!reader, Just look, my darling…

── .✦ cw: sexual content, touch denial, sub & dom, humiliation dadadadadada (so sick of do it, plssss)

part 5

The whole body trembled, but there was something deeply satisfying in the way they controlled you, how their power over you seemed to intensify with each punishment. And, at that moment, you knew you were willing to go as far as they wanted to take you.

The air in the room was still charged, the intense sensations of pain and pleasure still pulsating on his marked skin. Your body trembled slightly, each blow of the belt still echoing in your mind, but at the same time you were looking forward to what would come next. You felt completely exposed, vulnerable, and Abby and Ellie's gaze on you only intensified that feeling.

Abby let go of her head slowly, her fingers sliding through her hair in a gesture that seemed almost gentle, but the control she and Ellie exercised over you was still present, as intense as before. Ellie, kneeling next to him, still ran her fingers gently through the marks she had left on her skin, as if she were enjoying her work.

"Now," Abby said, her voice low, but loaded with an undeniable authority, "I think it's time for you to learn to be patient."

You looked up at Abby, your senses still on alert, trying to understand what she meant. Ellie smiled, as if sharing a silent secret with Abby, and then got up slowly, moving away from you, her presence creating an emptiness that you immediately felt.

You tried to move, reach out, seek any contact - but Abby was faster. Her firm hands held your wrists, holding you back to the ground. "Oh, not so fast," she murmured, a smile of pure satisfaction dancing on her lips. "You won't touch anything... neither us, nor yourself."

The idea of denial of touch hit you like a shock. After all, all the stimulation, the pain, the pleasure, the feeling of having all this denied seemed almost cruel. Her body was on edge, begging for more - but Abby's words sounded definitive.

Ellie approached again, but this time, instead of touching you, she just stood by your side, looking with those eyes that shone with a mixture of provocation and authority. "You're so ready, aren't you?" She asked, her voice loaded with an almost sadistic pleasure. "Ready for us to touch you... so that we relieve you." She leaned slightly, her lips dangerously close to hers, but without touching them. The proximity made her breathing accelerate, but she didn't take the last step. "But you won't have that... not until we decide."

Frustration rose inside you, a growing heat spreading through your body, but there was an impotence that made everything even more intense. Ellie and Abby were so close, but completely inaccessible, and every inch of her body cried out for their touch, for the relief you knew they could give.

Abby let go of her hands, but there was no relief. Instead, the two moved away a little, just enough for the lack of contact to become a torture in itself. You tried to move close to them, but Ellie raised a hand, her expression severe. "No. Stay exactly where you are."

Your body was burning with desire, every nerve in you on the surface of the skin. Every little attempt to move towards them was frustrated by a silent command, a look. You were completely at their mercy, and the absence of touch was worse than any physical punishment they had inflicted before.

Ellie started walking around you, watching your reactions with attentive eyes, while Abby sat on a nearby chair, crossing her legs slowly, without looking away. "You will learn to be patient," Abby repeated, as if she were reinforcing the concept in her mind. "Waiting for us... wishing without ever being able to satisfy that desire."

Ellie stopped in front of you again, bending down, her eyes fixed on yours. "Say it" she murmured, her lips almost touching hers, but still keeping her distance. "Say you'll wait... and that you won't touch anything until we allow it."

His breathing was heavy, his thoughts in disorder with the intensity of the moment. The need for relief, to be touched, was almost unbearable - but their expectation was clear. You needed to submit completely, even if it meant denying yourself.

With a choppy voice, you whispered: "I... I'll wait. I won't touch it... until you allow me."

Ellie's smile sidened. "Good girl."

And with that, the two moved away once again, leaving you alone in the center of that room, your body boiling with need, but without any relief in sight.

You were kneeling on the floor, your body still burning from the marks left by the belt, and the absence of touch was an unbearable torture. The heat on your skin did not dissipate; on the contrary, it increased every second, as if your body was begging for relief. The sensations of pain and desire mixed, forming a storm inside you, but what really dominated your mind was the need - the need to be touched again, to feel their hands on you.

Ellie and Abby were close, watching you with a calmness that contrasted cruelly with the chaos that was going on inside you. They were almost untouchable, distant, as if all the pleasure in the world were within their reach, but they deliberately held him back. The frustration was immense, and every second of silence only intensified the agony of not being able to touch them, of not being able to touch themselves.

You tried to move, tried to get closer to Ellie, extending your hand in the hope that she would finally allow contact. But before her hand could reach her, Ellie raised her finger in a movement of denial, shaking her head slowly, with a satisfied smile. "I said... not until we decide."

Frustration exploded in his chest, and unable to control himself, the words began to come out. "Please, Ellie... Abby... please!" Your voice was hoarse, a desperate whisper that escaped before you could contain it. "I... I need... I can't take it anymore."

Ellie tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining with a mixture of fun and satisfaction. She bent down, getting closer to you, but still keeping that provocative distance. "Are you begging?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper, as if she wanted to prolong her agony even more.

Abby smiled from where she was sitting, her eyes shining with approval when she saw you in that state. "Oh, yeah she's begging, yes. Look at her... so vulnerable, so desperate."

You swallowed dryly, feeling your whole body tremble. The humiliation of begging only increased the intensity of desire. "Yes," you managed to murmur, almost out of breath. "I'm begging... please... touch me, I need you."

Ellie smiled slowly, a smile full of power. She got a little closer, just enough for you to feel her warmth without being able to touch her yet. "You want it that much, don't you? You want our hands, our touches... you want to be filled by what we can give you." Each of her words seemed to carry more weight, and you felt your muscles contract with expectation.

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling. "I'll do anything... please, just don't leave me like this... don't leave me waiting."

Abby got up slowly, walking towards him with a predatory grace. She stopped next to Ellie, both looking at you with that same intensity that made her whole body react. "Did you hear that, Ellie? She would do anything."

Ellie laughed softly. "She's so obedient, when she begs like that." She finally extended her hand, and placed it lightly on her face, only to remove it soon after. The touch was so brief that it was like a shock - a taste of what you were desperate for more.

"Please..." The word came out of his lips almost like a moan. You felt the despair grow inside you, knowing that they were in absolute control of your satisfaction. "I need you... please touch me... I can't anymore."

Abby took a step forward, her fingers running along her jaw gently. "You're going to beg more," she said firmly, her hand now holding your chin so you wouldn't look away. "You will beg until we decide that you deserve it."

"Yes," you agreed quickly, the desire dominating any other thought. "I beg... I beg more... please, Abby, Ellie... do whatever you want with me, but touch me... give me what I need."

Ellie ran her fingers through her hair, pulling her head back slightly, exposing her neck. "You will keep begging until we are satisfied with your submission."

Her body was on fire, the desire to be touched, filled and controlled by the two was so strong that it seemed to burn from the inside out. "I beg you... please... I'll do anything, I'll be yours, just don't leave me like this... please..." Your voice was broken, each word carrying all the intensity of what you felt.

Ellie and Abby exchanged glances, a smile of satisfaction shining on their faces. "Good girl," Ellie murmured, the sound of approval sending a wave of relief and excitement through her body. "Now that you know your place... maybe we can consider what to do with you."

Abby leaned over, her lips brushing her ear as she whispered: "Keep begging, and maybe, just maybe, we'll give you what you want so much."

[ soon here comes part 6 (I think the last one cuz I don’t like odd numbers)

#ellie x y/n #ellie willams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x you

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loving-n0t-heyting · 7 months ago

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Hi! So, seeing you in my notes reminded me that I meant to ask you about that Instrumentality poll. Being as I am tumblr user 人類補完計画, I have, asyoumightimagine, a lot of interest in the topic, and I'd be very curious to hear *your* thoughts on Shinji's choice - in part because you mentioned in the tags that you were wondering whether your take aligned with the consensus view, but also because I feel like you're among the most distinctive & intellectually honest philosophical voices I've encountered on here, and I do wonder how your faith, along with your overall view on things, influences your take(s) re:EoE.

I was going to wait until the poll finally closed but i think its been plateauing for a couple of days now anyway so i might as well. This is all going to be pretty vague and mysticism-y ofc, especially given the vagueness and mysticism of the source material itself, and im going off of memory on top of that (i am not putting myself thru the emotional hurdle of rewatching EoE just for a post, sorry)

So, first off, my interpretation of shinjis ultimate choice is to reject instrumentality for all of humanity, to retain our ATFs and our individuality. And i lean towards thinking this was a mistake, on his part. I sometimes see ppl suggest that he offered everyone a choice to either join or refuse instrumentality, but i tend to think this is just projection; idr anything in the text to clearly support this

Im not really sure how to go about arguing for this position directly, beyond rebutting objections. To the extent we are given a clear explanation of what an ATF is, it is smth like the secrecy of our own thoughts and desires and personality; ie, others ignorance of those things. Ignorance is a terrible thing, just generally, in itself! Like impotence. Its terrible in proportion to the importance/value of the things one is ignorant of, and ppl are about the most valuable things there are. Thats much of whats so bad about death, which is why it makes perfect sense the dead get to join in HI as well. So, putting it all together, the presence of ATFs is a terrible imposition, and their removal thru HI is a great blessing, maybe even the greatest possible blessing. And this shows itself in the end of strife and discord and the beginning of real unity of spirit and will, but its already present in the mere dissolution of interpersonal ignorance

The narrative itself frames this as an erasure of individuality, but im not sure how to understand this. Is the idea supposed to be that we would not survive the loss of our ATFs? Im not sure thats even intelligible: the loss of our ATFs is just the lifting of certain kinds of ignorance or, in other words, the instilling of certain kinds of knowledge. Knowledge in whom? In those undergoing human instrumentality. So clearly we survive HI, if it involves us coming into knowledge, and thus being around to know these things. Is this supposed to mean our distinctive contributions to the diversity of human experience etc would all be destroyed in favour of some uniform replacement? I dont see why that would be necessary; we can certainly imagine ways ppls varying idiosyncratic quirks can all "make it into" some sufficiently rich collaborative work. Why should HI not be the same? I suppose the fact it involves everyones bodies into a homogeneous sea of yellow goop speaks against this, but my inclination is to read this as a sort of pupal stage from which a mature instrumentalised humanity can emerge. Tho thats admittedly a bit of a reach

Theres yet another negative interpretation of the "destruction of individuality" i sometimes hear: that it would somehow rob us each of our agency and ability to shape the world in accord with our desires and beliefs. This goes along with a worry that the inauguration of HI would necessarily be a violation of consent and mental autonomy, which strikes me as misguided for much the same reason. Our ignorance of one another is not an individual condition of oneself in particular one can opt in or out of irrespective of the choices of others; if my not being able to retsin my ATF is a violation of my "autonomy", why is my retaining my ATF not in turn a violation of the autonomy of the others being thereby kept ignorant of my deepest self? Mutual ignorance of one anothers mental states (including that very ignorance) is in no interesting way reducible to the ignorant subjects each having certain "individual" or "intrinsic" or "internal" states that can individually and unilaterally be shifted without affecting those of the others; it is an "external" relation. So thinking about HI in terms of individual, unilaterally revocable consent is confused; the fact it is changing is irreducibly collective, and thus consent to it and only be given or refused collectively if at all. Hopefully thats not too opaque

This reply feeds into my answer to the worry about the dilution of ones agency and control over the world. This objection makes sense against a background view on which, for an agent A to control the answer to a question Q and a distinct agent A* to control the answer to a question Q*, Q and Q* must be modally independent: any answer to the latter must be compossible with any answer to the former. Or that, if this isnt true, this is bc As control over Q or A*s over Q* must be only "limited" or "partial" or w/e. My rejection of this assumption (which is i think what lies behind the last objection about autonomy) is probably my deepest, most abstract anti-liberal commitment. Its a conception of control or freedom that i think ultimately requires a debilitatingly narrow view of what full freedom could look like, or of what facts can amount to states of a person. (For example, i think it prolly requires you to say that knowing that the sun rises, a property entailing the "external" fact that the sun rises, is not actually a state of a person, in some important sense, rather than smth like a conjunction of a state of a person and a state of the horizon/sun.) But going all the way into this would probably take a lengthy book; mb i will try to work it out slightly more precisely at some point tho

You asked how my feeling about EoE connect with my faith, and broader view of the world. This illiberal assumption is close to the heart of it. I am always tempted in this context to quote marxs comments in the 1848 manuscripts about the whole of nature being the "inorganic body of man", and i dont think im alone in seeing connections between those passages and remarks like pauls about the mystical body of the church ("So we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another." Now there is smth for mereologists to chew on!!) And this is a trend you see elsewhere in the Christian tradition, like dantes description of the celestial eagle in paradiso xviii-xx. I was surprised, when talking to an atheist friend about my tentative support for HI, that they said my christianity made sense of my disagreement with them about this point; not bc i dont think theres a connection but bc idt of these emphases on the unity of the mystical body as particularly prominent in outsiders impressions of Christian belief

Anyway, hopefully that was at least somewhat illuminating. Thx for the kind words ^^

#jinruihokankeikaku #ask

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idontknowreallywhy · 10 months ago

Text

Resurface 4 - Reel

EVERYTHING IS FINE!

Previously (in case this jumpscared you and you have no idea what’s going but I’ve clearly gone a bit feral over this today - apologies for flooding your dash!)

First scene, second scene, third scene

(And the history of this is this one)

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

The first thing Scott noticed was Shadow stationary and clamped firmly to her ‘roost’ on the cliff side, with two figures buzzing around the cockpit.

The second thing he noticed was Alan perched on a rocky outcrop about 40m below where Shadow clung to the cliff.

The third thing was that there were tears running down his baby brother’s face as he squinted into the sky overhead.

The fourth thing was the telltale glint in the rosy blue of early evening that meant the space elevator was on its way down.

He flew over to Alan and made a hurried enquiry as to his health. Alan dashed the wetness from his face and said he was fine. Scott didn’t believe him and said so. Alan shrugged and clamped his lips together but then his face crumpled and he blurted out:

“They said I had to leave. That Virgil wouldn’t want me to see. But I already did so what’s the point. I want to help! What use am I down here?”

“Alan, what did you see?”

Alan looked guilty. Scott looked up to where Gordon and Kayo were hovering either side of Shadow’s windshield which appeared to be partly raised.

“Alan!”

The response was barely a whisper.

“He thinks you’re flying Shadow to… to…” nothing but a strangled sound came out here but Scott knew exactly the word Alan couldn’t bring himself to say. “He says he has to go too… but there’s nobody in the pilot’s seat Scott.”

“Right.” Scott had no idea what to do with this information and hovered impotently in midair for a moment.

“I’m scared.”

Big brother instinct triggered, Scott snapped out of his panicked indecision and took change.

“I’ll look after him I promise. Please go and fetch the big blue first aid kit, Allie? The one with the… uh, the everything in it.” The word “tranquilliser” was almost as dirty and unspeakable as “Bereznik” was in the Tracy household, but at that height Scott wasn’t going to take any chances with his stronger, heavier brother.

“FAB Scott.”

He watched his little brother leave then made a beeline for Shadow, popping up beside Gordon who was pale and ever so young-looking and Kayo, unflappable Kayo who… whose face was as tear stained as Alan’s had been. Scott swallowed hard and peered through the semi-raised hatch to meet his best friend’s eyes.

“Virgil?”

“Dad!”

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Chapter 5…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #thunderangst #Tw: mental health #Idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Resurface fic

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miamochi-writes · 2 years ago

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Hello! I saw you had requests opened and was wondering if I could bother you for a Vash x Reader? I was thinking of something small where they comfort each other after they both wake from their nightmares at the same time. Hope this isn't too vague! Love your writing!

A/n: Hi! You can always bother me for a Vash x reader! Also thank you for asking this! I know you asked for something small, but I got too into this 😅 I'm so sorry this took long! I finally recovered from my cold. I kinda added some angst but I promise there's still fluff and comfort scenes to this. Also this is my longest fic with 2.7K words! Hope you like it!

Silver Lining

Vash found himself in a beautiful garden surrounded by geraniums. The sunlight’s warmth adorned his face. He was resting by an enormous tree that provided enough shade from the sun. All was right with the world for the space cowboy. That was until Vash blinked and saw Nai standing before him.

“Just how much are you willing to gain their adoration with your silly little tricks? You’re no hero Vash. Never forget what happened,” he warned. Before Vash could react, Nai disappeared. As Vash turned around, certain townspeople appeared before him. Rosa sent death glares along with Tonis.

"If you didn't show up, none of this would have happened! Leave this town and never come back!" Rosa yelled as Vash flinched from the anger in her voice.

"You said you'd save us. You're no hero. If you were, I wouldn't have lost my arm," Tonis said in an unforgiving tone. Vash tried reaching out to the little boy as he wanted to talk. As he reached for his shoulder, Rollo appeared with a face of disgust. Vash's heart rate spiked as he saw the little boy he once knew.

“You liar! You said you would come back for me! You said you'd save us,” he hissed. Before Vash could say anything, a gunshot resonated in the air. Vash flinched as Rollo transformed into his current form and fell limp. Vash's breathing became erratic as he remembered how helpless when Rollo was shot.

"You're so irresponsible. You can't even take care of us. Let alone keep your promises. You're not a hero. You're a coward who can't stand to watch people die," Nai reprimanded. The guilt was building up and weighing on his heart. He never meant to disappoint and fail to protect the people he cared for. Vash truly wanted to save everyone, but the fact that he couldn't save every human haunted him.

As he looked away from Rollo, a familiar figure appeared in the corner of his eye. Rem. She reached her hand out towards him, gesturing to him that everything would be okay. Desperate for the familiar warmth and safety he once felt, Vash ran towards her. As he got closer, Rem's eyebrows furrowed as a sorrowful smile appeared on her lips. Vash's heart quickened as he was confused. Why was she giving him that look? Then she started to disappear slowly.

"WAIT! DON'T GO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Vash pleaded.

"I'm so sorry, my perfect boy," Rem spoke as tears trickled down her cheeks. As Vash was about to grab her hand, she vanished. All that was left were wilted geranium petals in her place. Vash's legs buckled in defeat. He was all alone again. His eyes were closed shut from the physical, mental, and emotional pain he's endured all these years. He dug his fingernails into his palms. The shame, despair, and impotence were too much for him to bear. Vash's past was creeping up more than ever as his survivor's guilt grew exponentially. The poor plant was succumbing to despair until a silver lining made itself known.

"Vash!"

Vash's ears perked up as he knew that voice by heart. He looked up and saw the one person that held a special place in his heart. The person called out for him again. Vash stood up as he tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. He squinted his blue eyes until a familiar face appeared. They cupped their hands around their mouth and yelled his name again.

"Vash! I'm right here!”

The person was waving at Vash as he ran as fast as his legs could. He hoped this time they wouldn’t disappear like Rem. Tears were welling up, but Vash wiped them away as he refused to lose sight of this person. The closer he got, the clearer he saw that radiant smile that always washed away his fears. The person welcomed them with open arms as Vash ran faster. All he wanted was to be comforted with a tight embrace that he so desperately craved. He yearned for that familiar warmth that he could find solace in. This person, Y/n, was his safe haven where no one could hurt him. Once he got close enough, Vash tightly embraced them as he thanked any higher power out there that Y/n didn’t disappear in his arms.

“Y/n, you’re real. I’m so happy you’re real and here with me,” he choked up as they returned the hug.

“Hey, it's okay. I’m right here Vash,” Y/n reassured him with their gentle words. Vash didn’t want to let go of them, fearing they would be whisked away. He looked at their precious face and saw the love and adoration that he’s come to love. Y/n gave them a sweet kiss on his soft lips after what he’s been through. Oh how his heart always fluttered any time he received affection. Once he pulled away, Vash let out an audible gasp as his eyes dilated with fear. Bruises and cuts appeared on Y/n’s face. Those wounds weren't there a second ago. Vash cupped their face and trembled at the sight of his lover's face.

“Y/n, what happened to you? Who did this to you?” He asked. Tears were forming in his eyes as Vash’s anxiety spiked once more.

“Vash what are you talking about? I’m fine. If anything, I should be asking you what’s wrong. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re shaking,” they replied. Before Vash could answer, the world around them started to crack, almost as if everything was made out of glass. The ground shook, causing the two of them to lose their balance.

“Vash, what’s going on?” they asked as the cracks in the area grew around them at an alarming rate. Then everything started to fall apart as pieces of your surroundings fell like glass. One large piece landed between Vash and Y/n, causing a large rift separating the pair. Once Y/n regained their balance, a strange force was pulling them away from Vash as an ominous dark void appeared.

“Vash! Something is pulling me in! I’m scared!” They called out. The blonde panicked as he tried to run and close the distance between them. The more he ran, the farther the distance grew. Vash desperately tried to grab Y/n’s hand as he put all his energy into lunging himself towards them. He was so close to them as his fingertips were in reach of their hand. Yet, familiar sharp bladed tendrils emerged from the void, grabbing Y/n's entire body. The look of horror was plastered on Y/n’s face as they were dragged away into the dark void with no trace left behind but their scream. Vash’s heart dropped as the void disappeared. He clawed and kicked away at the spot, hoping it would come back. Once he realized nothing was happening, Vash let out a guttural scream built from all the loneliness and pain from all these years.

“Vash! VASH! VASH WAKE UP!”

Vash shot up from his bed and let out an ear-piercing scream. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw his hotel room illuminated by the moonlight. Beads of sweat covered his face, and his clothes clung to his sweaty skin. Vash held his head with both hands, pushing some of his hair back as he tried to process what happened.

“Vash?”

The blonde snapped his head towards the source of the sound. His shaky hands held Y/n's concerned face. His blue eyes stared deep into their e/c eyes. No signs of cuts, bruises, or wounds were found on their face as his thumb slowly brushed their cheek. Once he confirmed that they were real, Vash sighed in relief. His eyebrows furrowed, and his lips quivered. His eyes began to water with his body shaking.

“Vash, what’s the matter sunshine? You were squirming all night,” Y/n added. The minute he heard Y/n call him by his nickname, he immediately pulled them into a bear hug. Vash couldn’t hold back the tears as he bawled his heart out. He was relieved that his Y/n was here with him by his side. He held onto Y/n for dear life, afraid that they would disappear after experiencing the worst nightmare he had so far.

“Y/n, I’m so happy you're okay. I'm so sorry I let go of you. I promise I’ll never let you go and protect you as best as I can,” Vash wailed as his voice cracked every time he spoke. He shook like a leaf and kept hugging Y/n tighter each second. Even though Vash was squeezing the living daylights out of Y/n, they kept rubbing his back and reassuring him.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m right here Vash. Did you have a nightmare again?” Y/n asked. Vash nodded as Y/n pulled away slightly to wipe the tears off his face. Vash tried to explain what happened, but his shaking, sniffles, and lump in his throat made it difficult to understand. Y/n then placed both hands on his shoulders and instructed him to follow their breathing. Inhale for four seconds, hold for four seconds, exhale for four seconds, hold four seconds, and repeat. They repeated this until Vash’s tremors subsided, and his breathing was normal again. Y/n then slid their hands down to his hands, and gave them a slight squeeze.

“Better?” Y/n asked as Vash nodded his head again. They then gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Good. Wanna start from the beginning?” Y/n asked as Vash took a deep breath.

“I had the same nightmare again. The one with Nai. Except, more people showed up. People like Rosa, Tonis, Rollo, Rem, and…you,” Vash started. It was still fresh from his memory. The guilt, the disappointment, the cold stares, and the broken promises were too much. But what hurt the most was seeing Y/n.

“When I saw you, I ran to you and didn’t let go. Then when I looked at you again, you had cuts and bruises all over your face. I tried to figure out what happened, but everything around us collapsed. Then we got separated again, and I tried reaching out to you, but it was too late. You were pulled away from me and vanished right before my eyes. I thought I lost you like the others Y/n,” Vash finished as his voice cracked at the very end. Y/n then pulled them into a hug as their arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Vash. You had a bad dream, but you’re awake now. This is real. I’m real, and everything is okay now,” Y/n reassured.

“Yes, but I couldn't save those people back then. What if I can’t save you? What if-?” Vash asked, but Y/n cut them off before he spiraled. They firmly squeezed his shoulder and ensured they were making direct eye contact.

“Vash, you’ve saved so many people. Remember the Sand Worm? The bandits? The police? E.G Bomber? That was you. You saved as many people as you possibly could. You saved Roberto, Meryl, Wolfwood, and my life many times. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here now. So I know you’ll always be there for us and the people in need of saving. And I’ll keep reminding you just how capable you are. Plus, what happened back then was not your fault. You couldn't have predicted what was going to happen. So stop blaming yourself for something you couldn't control. When life gets rough, we keep moving forward,” Y/n reminded them as they gave him a soft yet hopeful look. Vash was about to tear up from those words, but managed to wipe them away with his hand. Even though he felt he didn't deserve this comfort, he knew that Y/n wasn't wrong and knew what to say to put him at ease.

“Thank you for staying by my side Mayfly. You’re so patient and understanding. I honestly don't know how I got so lucky to have you with me. Also, sorry for waking you up like that,” Vash sniffled after pulling them into a gentle embrace.

“Actually, you’re not the only one who had a nightmare,” Y/n confessed. Vash pulled away to look at them with a face that read ‘You too?!’ Y/n reluctantly pulled away and brought their knees to their chest.

“I had a dream where everyone I cared for suffered in front of me. My family, friends, Roberto, Meryl, Wolfwood, and you were in my dream. Each of you was tortured in front of me by these horrible people. All of you were begging and screaming for help. I tried to do something, but my body wouldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t even look away. I was forced to see everyone get hurt. It was...it was horrible,” Y/n explained as their voice cracked at the last few sentences. Their eyes were welling up with tears as Vash pulled Y/n into a side hug. His hand slowly rubbing their back.

“Then these people were about to deal the final blow to all of you. I was so scared that I tried to scream and move. Then I woke up to you screaming. I was so scared that I called out for you. That’s when you woke up and screamed. I was shocked but relieved to see that you were alive. I’m just glad that it was a bad dream once I realized you held me, and I saw your face. I couldn't bear the thought of losing people close to me, especially you Vash,” Y/n sobbed and covered their face with both hands as the dream felt too real.

Vash gently moved their hands away and cupped Y/n's face. He wiped away their tears, but his heart sunk seeing Y/n like this. Vash wasn't exactly sure what to say, but knew what to do. He closed his eyes, gently placed his hands on both sides of Y/n's head, and slowly leaned forward until his forehead touched theirs. He knew Y/n wasn't a plant, but it was a natural instinct for him to do. Anytime Y/n felt sad, scared, frustrated, or anxious, he would rest his forehead on them. He would hope they could feel willpower, and energy trying to calm you down like he did with the plants. Sure enough, Y/n's breathing calmed down, and the tears stopped falling. Then he heard a content hum as Vash smiled. That's the sound he was looking for. He opened his ocean blue eyes to see a more relaxed Y/n who's eyes were slowly opening.

"Better?" Vash asked.

"Just what I needed. Thank you Vash," they replied. Vash beamed at his accomplishment as he caressed their head with his human hand and held their back with his prosthetic hand. He quickly pecked their forehead and lips before nestling his neck on Y/n's shoulder.

"Anything for my precious Mayfly," Vash commented with a content smile as Y/n hugged them back and kissed the side of his head. Vash then laid down in bed and pulled Y/n with them to where they rested on top of his chest.

"How late is it?" Vash asked.

"Late enough to have a nightmare and comfort session," Y/n replied as Vash chuckled.

"Want to try to go back to sleep?" Y/n suggested.

"Maybe if I get a kiss we can," Vash teased as he flashed his cheeky smile. Y/n laughed this time and kissed his beauty mark, then his lips. Vash's smile grew wider as his eyes crinkled with joy.

"Happy?" Y/n asked as they rested on his chest once more.

"Happy as can be," he replied while intertwining his fingers with theirs.

"Maybe you can sing that song of yours with your pretty voice before we go to bed?" Y/n requested as Vash blushed at the compliment.

"Promise you won't let go?" Vash asked as he squeezed their hand.

"I promise, now sweet dreams sunshine," Y/n wished as Vash gave them a goodnight kiss.

"Sweet dreams Mayfly," Vash replied as he started humming his song. He watched Y/n get comfortable and steady their breathing. Once he made sure Y/n was asleep, he cuddled them with his prosthetic arm before slowly drifting off to sleep in hopes of a calming dream.

#vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede #vash reboot #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede x you #trigun stampede x y/n #trigun fic #I swear this is a comfort fic #I may have added too much angst #trigun #trigun reboot #miamochi writes

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butnodamage · 7 months ago

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Hello, hello, I have been tagged by the lovely @wylstarion ❤️

Rules: in a rb or separate post, post the last sentence you wrote in any of your wips (original, fanfic, etc), and tag as many people as there are words.

So. I haven't posted fanfiction in...maybe 8 years. But the BG3 brainrot is real, and, uh, I've been cookin'. I'm feeling extra and benevolent, so here is the first chapter from my current WIP, in which both Astarion and Cazador get tadpoled, and many fun times ensue.

Tagging a few mutuals: @anniecrestaodairs, @m3rricat, and @undercover-cactus

Feel free to share anything you're working on (but no pressure!!).

CHAPTER 1 - ASTARION

For the first time in two hundred years, Astarion woke to the sun’s raw, golden warmth caressing his face.

So, of course, he started screaming.

A chunk of wreckage thrust up from the sand nearby. He lunged for it, squeezing himself into the deepest, darkest corner, and buried his head between his knees. A minute passed. Maybe an eternity. Once the immediate panic subsided, Astarion realized something else was wrong.

He was not in pain.

There was the hunger, of course, an ever-present, nauseating ache, a bruise on his being. But his skin remained attached to his body. His fingers flexed and straightened at the correct angles. His ribs sat in orderly rows in his chest. And where all that raw, unfiltered light had raked his bare flesh, he was not burnt.

There was only one way to be certain. He inched forward, creeping a hand toward the shadow’s edge. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he thrust the hand out.

Warmth.

Enveloping. Embracing. A heat that didn’t sting or cut but instead cradled him gently, sinking into his flesh to wrap tender hands around the very marrow of him. A soft, gasping cry escaped Astarion’s lips. Water stung at the corners of his eyes.

Panic gave way to sudden, heady delight.

The sun did not burn him.

Then something behind his right eye began to squirm.

Images flashed. Fragmented memories, sensory impressions.

Shouting. Fleeing. Yellow eyes and groping tentacles. The slash of a silver sword. A half-elf woman screaming behind a pane of glass, hammering useless fists against the confines of a mindflayer’s fleshy pod.

More flooded in, memories of the night before. Clawed fingers fisted in his hair, dragging him across the derelict courtyard of the Szarr Palace. Cazador’s fury, choking, all-encompassing, tight as fingers around his throat. Astarion’s desperate pleas falling dead in the dirt, the rising sun a throbbing golden specter, those first damning golden rays teasing the palace’s walls.

Astarion had failed to secure a mark that evening, had opted to race back to the palace and risk Cazador’s wrath rather than be incinerated by the coming sun. Cazador had decided to correct those priorities. They’d made it halfway across the courtyard to the post, half in shadow, that Cazador used for punishments, when monsters had started falling from the sky.

Astarion came back to himself doubled over and panting.

So. The good news.

He was not chained to a post in Baldur’s Gate, contorting his body to escape the creeping advance of the morning sun. He was, seemingly, impossibly, at least momentarily, safe.

The bad news.

Astarion had not been saved. He’d been infected. And if he didn’t do something about this little unwelcome infestation soon, then who knew what would happen? (Astarion had a guess what would happen. It was not particularly inviting.)

Well. He’d take it all the same. The tadpole had given him the sun, hadn’t it?

Perhaps it could give him more.

Buoyed by this knowledge, he stood, dusted off his doublet, and turned to head further up the beach, only to freeze.

Cazador.

Cazador lay in the sand.

For a moment, Astarion knew only terror.

His mind reeled, struggling to make sense of it. Cazador was here, not in Baldur’s Gate. Cazador was here. Which meant Cazador had also been abducted by the mindflayers. And wasn’t that a delicious thought—his master pinned down, impotent, as the tadpole was crammed into his wide, panicked eye, the sting of its teeth as it burrowed deep, Cazador’s screams—

No. Oh, no.

Because bad things for the Master only meant worse things for Astarion. Cazador had only been infected because of Astarion. Because Astarion had failed to bring back prey. Because Astarion had to be punished. And there would be no mercy, no forgiveness for a mistake like this. It’d be another year in the tomb, two years, Hells, a century, Gods, he was so, so fucked—

Cazador did not move.

The panic faltered enough that Astarion could look at his master, really look. Cazador’s eyes were closed, his hair and fine robes disheveled, caked, Astarion noted with some satisfaction, with illithid slime. He looked like a scrap of wet laundry that had blown off somebody’s line, trampled along the roadside.

He looked—well. Dead.

Astarion should run. He knew it, his body knew it, muscles screaming to turn and flee before Cazador saw him, caught him…

But another part of him had to know. Had mindflayers accomplished what countless monster hunters and political rivals could not? The very thing that Astarion had fantasized about for the past two centuries?

He crept closer. As he did, his fingers closed around a scrap of driftwood, small enough to tuck against his palm, and ending in a jagged point. His hands shook. The fear surged up again at his master’s proximity, primal, instinctive. Astarion choked it down.

His mouth set in a grim, determined line.

Fate, luck, a mindflayer kidnapping, whatever had brought Astarion here, it didn’t matter. There was only him, the stake clenched in his trembling hands, and the man stretched out before him, for once no chains or commands to stand in Astarion’s way.

One thrust, and he’d be free. Truly free. But only if he moved now. He hefted the stake.

Cazador’s eyes opened.

With a sound part scream, part sob, Astarion rammed the stake down.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Because though they were both battered and bloodied, crusted in slime and debris, Cazador was a vampire lord, and Astarion was a weak, pathetic, useless spawn, the runt of the litter, and he hadn’t eaten in a tenday.

Cazador caught his wrist, stopping the stake inches from his chest, and broke the fragile bones with one clean, practiced jerk. His grip tightened—Astarion shrieked as the shattered bones ground together—then Cazador’s other hand caught Astarion’s collar and shoved him into the sand. Astarion barely had time to do more than flail his limbs like an overturned beetle when, a second later, a boot slammed down on his chest. With one final crushing application of pressure, and another scream from Astarion, Cazador pried the stake from his hand, tossing it into the water.

“Stupid, foolish child,” he said, his voice sounding a touch slurred, and raised his boot.

A sharp pain lanced through Astarion’s temple. It threw him backward, out of himself, into an enormous cavern of turquoise stone, scrawled with archaic symbols. A feeling of anticipation flooded him, of hunger, of triumph, of centuries of plans finally coming together, Woe a wicked weight in his hand and, painted over everything, the sweet, salty tang of hot, fresh blood—

Astarion reared back into his own body once more.

Cazador stood over him, clutching his head. Through a tangle of hair and claws, Astarion glimpsed a single livid red eye, fixed on him. Then Cazador jerked Astarion toward him and bit down—hard—into his neck. Reflexively, Astarion went limp (if he struggled, he’d make a mess, and Cazador hated mess) as Cazador tightened his hold, pulling Astarion flush against him. Tears scorched the backs of his eyes. It’d been so long since he’d fed. He couldn’t have more than a few meager swallows in him. Cazador took them all the same.

Once he’d drunk his fill, Cazador released him to tumble gracelessly back onto the sand, cleaning the excess off his lips with a thumb.

For a moment, Astarion thought that Cazador would leave him like that, discarded with the rest of the Nautiloid’s detritus.

“Get up, boy,” Cazador said.

So, Astarion got up, and followed.

***

And so the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day begins.

In other news, I am also writing the BG3 X The Thing AU we all need.

#will i ever finish this?#that is between me and numerous higher powers #two being my job and limited free time #but i sure do like putting these boys in Situations TM #this will be an alternating astarion/wyll pov by the way with eventual wyllstarion (and minor laestarion??)#50% of my goal in writing this fic was to ensure that cazador experienced the horros of camping and i think i've delivered on that #anyway - if you like it/want to read more #please scream at me <3 #my fanfiction #my writing #bg3 fanfiction #tagging game #astarion ancunin #cazador szarr #baldurs gate 3 #tadpoled!cazador au #in progress

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kimyoonmiauthor · 7 months ago

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Sections of the Terfs and "Gender Critical"

'cause the rule is "Know your enemy" and as soon as you make them into one amalgam, you've lost.

So I've been paying attention and they come in these categories...

The Religious Right

There is no such thing as gender.

But women have to be the most oppressed.

Gender and sex are the same thing.

The Religious Right

Usually they are Christians, I haven't really met any of any other religions.

They usually come with the Bible and Bible thumping.

While they are Bible thumping, the people they are most likely to quote, since people have narrowed them to not use Jewish texts... since Jews are not Anti-Trans by an large and people have soundly defeated them about Genesis and what Genesis was truly about--they are likely to quote Peter or Paul, Paul more likely than Peter.

I bothered to read the whole thing for context. And often the people that claim to have read the Bible, don't remember it. I, unfortunately, do and often pull the context from the quotes they pull from.

Paul was the OG incel, at least to me. He had all these opinions about women, but never had any relationships with women. He also was the least liked by his peers according to religious scholars and because of this went off the sulk (these are not my words, BTW, this comes from the mouth of Christian theologians from the Real Face of Jesus documentary, etc). He also never really quoted Jesus in any of his texts. He referred to various speeches in his letters of conversion, but he never really quoted or retold Jesus' stories in any of his work, rather this is more like what he thought Jesus' work meant.

Peter, the said-to-be-first Pope is less likely because the majority of the non-Catholics don't like him as the first Pope. They tend to see him as a sign of corruption of the church, etc. He also tends not to quote Jesus, but if you want the person who made the whole freaking list of long rules in Leviticus into the 10, this is Peter. Peter is also anti-women in many ways and also talks about things like submission—which is useful for a non-Trad Christian type. For the Trad Christian type, they are usually too far gone.

The next likely person they'll pull is Matthew. Matthew, for context did often quote Jesus, but if you read his text in full (for one, he reads like a Jew, at least to me, as a Jew...) He wrote in Hebrew, BTW, which the majority of the people don't read. The majority of the texts are about acceptance of the other. The whole of the ideas is to not limit who can join the Church. And, in fact, he refers to different genders that were outcast at the time, quoting and talking about Jesus accepting those genders. And in Judaism, there are 6 or 8, depending on if you go Torah or Talmud.

Poor Luke... I suppose they don't want to deal with him. The top three are always those three.

Jesus specifically said that all "Eunuchs" (which is a poor translation of the Hebrew, BTW, because it doesn't translate well) were welcome in his Church, though he recognized there were 2 sexes as defined in Genesis. This is probably better defined as men that voluntarily have their organs removed were considered unclean by the Jewish religion at the time. Later texts revised this. (So men who got castrated or vasectomies) And also under this was "men who are impotent" who were allowed in.

They are not considered genders now, because of mainly Thomas Aquinas, who worshiped Aristotle. And if you notice, Aristotle and the Greek Scholars that Thomas Acquinas took from were not Jesus.

Meaning Jesus, the real OG recognized all genders and said they were welcome, while a non-Jesus Christian who worshiped Pagans did not.

Thomas Aquinas also gave the world ideas of women being inferior in Christianity, and the ideas of ensoulment, which are not in the Bible, but taken from Greeks. Greeks who are not Christians, and people should really examine if they want to worship pagans as Christians.

In addition, God wears a Dress on the Sistine chapel several times over. He did not care.

Pink, was only a feminine color after about the 1950's, though it's a bit more complex than that.

But even so, it doesn't matter.

The reason they hate it is because they think it's Bible Tradition, when it's not Also in Matthew is the story of the Good Samaritan which is about a Sumerian traveler who helps a Jew regardless of religion.

They want justification for their feelings of disgust and because they engage so much, they think that the other side is "invading." But the rule is often their quoting is out of context and they didn't read the whole thing, which is the worst game of telephone I've ever seen.

Usually when you say then read me the books of Matthew and direct quotes from Jesus, they lose steam. Because often they haven't read the Bible, and only quoted from what they were given, and fail to see their arguments are really from pagan-lover Thomas Aquinas who was neck deep into agricultural thought at the time and needed to justify the subjugation of women, thus pounding on the idea of only two sexes and genders with women as inferior was useful to him.

Often, too, they are reliant on the English translation, rather than being able to pick up the words, which is why one can defeat their arguments about Genesis easily since Genesis is about the invention of language as gendered, as much as it is about the invention of the world. Thus a Jew can defeat a Christian because often a Christian doesn't know enough about Hebrew of Judaism to understand the full context from which Genesis was birthed. (Maybe intentional; pun). So they don't know the rib is a penis bone aka Baculum, for example. The man and woman part if you understand the Hebrew context is talking about the invention of gendered LANGUAGE and why the language has gender to it. But English lacks for the most part these genders, so the separation doesn't work this way.

Then they lean on Noah, 2 by 2, and then you have lizards that are mostly female and reproduce by Parthenogenesis. The Lesbian lizard, The almost all female Mourning Gecko, for example. There are males, but they are mostly infertile.

There are Christian websites that argue that Jews just don't know their own lore well enough, but most of those also refuse to cite the Hebrew words because if you look up the Hebrew words, the Jews and Hebrews flat out say there are more than 2 genders and then the Christian argument is sunk.

By here, they either rage block while you're having fun knowing the Bible more than them, or they start trying to empty preach at you because they got nothing else. The second you can acall them on because they got nothing and they can't accept what God really said, thus are they Christian or trying to use their religion for hate, which BTW, Paul, ironically had words for. But it also ignores the whole of Matthew's ideas that all should be accepted in their natural state. BTW, if they are conservative--there are always conservative white male politicians you can find who get into grooming scandals or are pro-child marriage recently and statics you can utilize from RAINN.

2. There is no such thing as Gender

This camp believes usually these things:

Sociology is useless because they don't agree with Sociology.

That biology proves their point. (though it doesn't)

Therefore gender doesn't exist. There is no male, not female, no woman no man.

What they want is hardcore proof of the existence of gender itself. Though going a few rounds teasing them they are sounding very agender, which is trans is entertaining. I won't lie, it's not helpful in the long run.

There are science articles about the make up of the brain to show that gender does exist and gets programmed in over time.

BTW, hormones can change a person's sexual orientation, but not their gender. More testosterone makes men more likely to be same-sex attracted.

Yes, the most masculine men are gay, yo. Haha. People will flip outtttt.

While they are claiming they don't like sociology, Sociology also designs the internet, road and most of civilization itself as researchers apply it to make roads better the internet more usable in UX models, etc.

Usually the people who claim to this argument are white men, and they have a poor ability to read the articles in question. So they will try to back behind not having any proof on their side at all by saying well they just don't believe in gender.

This is easily defeated by picking up on socialization cues and they will quit because they won't want to admit anything that might feminize them.

If you ask, did you play dolls and dress up wear pink frilly dresses, because your parents didn't care... you never were called "gay" as an insult as a child... this is about when they will quit because all of those things come from culture. And saying that gender is not socially constructed and doesn't give feedback to you on your behaviors is a path that fragile white man doesn't want to go down.

If they are in defense of Rowling, well, that's even better. Because Rowling is definitely not in this camp.

She's in the next camp.

3. But Women are the most oppressed.

So this camp believes there are men and there are women, and they ARE socialized differently. By and large this is mostly white women. They do not want the religious arguments because they think the Catholic Church are oppressors.

Often they argue things like Trans people are a threat to their well being because Trans people are lying about their gender.

But they also are often coming off the back of a trauma with get this... cis men (usually white). That's the case with Rowling also. She's deflecting her trauma with her ex-husband and father onto trans women because subconsciously they are easier to attack than cis men, because to her, trans women aren't women, but men as a threat.

And it's fair of me to talk about because look, I've gone through r***, and abuse that I probably shouldn't share because it'll trigger someone, but I don't think that her habit of displacing her anger and grief on minority groups is that healthy. She did it with adoption too (which I posted about already).

The core of this is the victim mentality which gets you a TON of attention, which feels *good* after a lot of abuse, but the thing I have to say having gone through it so many freaking times is that high doesn't last long when you're not looking at self-care and perpetuating hate, so you need a new supply of what might feel like schadenfreude, but it isn't.

They think they are being embraced for their traumas with cis men, but they aren't. And I'm here to say they need to reach for survivor because victimhood isn't a good mental space to be and launching yourself into hate campaigns against minorities won't help heal the hurt and pain when you can't take power from your true oppressors. Hate is isolating which is often why on the path of survivorship there is forgiveness asked for.

So, the argument here is to ask them why they won't go after white cis men who oppressed them in the first place and the core of the patriarchy which they are too afraid to fight.

4. Gender and Sex are the same thing.

Usually white again, but I've seen other races mixed in.

So the argument usually says that women are all female and then all men are male (and excuse this language) intersex [people--though this word isn't usually included either.] are mutants only worthy of scorn. (Even if they cover the same population as the population of Mexico as of 2024 in the entirety of the human pop proportionally. Though when facing this fact, they usually hesitate to say that Mexicans don't count in the world pop because they'd get marked for racism.)

This says it's a binary model. If you go test it it usually goes this pathway--you test mourning gecko, they say but that's in REPTILES and REPTILES don't count. Only mammals do.

Which is about time you counter with the Lions that turned masculine.

And the general weirdness of cats in this area.

And then they narrow it to humans.

So the argument goes the gender is the same across the board.

Around here, There is Thai, Native American/Indigenous American, Bugis of Indonesia, and historical articles. And Japanese men use questions which in English are gendered for women. If gender and sex are the same they should be the same internationally, but they aren't so the argument is racist.

Often they try to argue that this gender ideology thing is "new" which is why I usually pull Eleanor Rykener around this time and point out that they were ordered to dress female all their life.

The very gay James I. And also the whole of Shakespeare while we're at it.

Showing changing gender norms over time will often cinch it. Because do thy think wearing silk stockings, a dress, lace, etc is "appropriate" for a man?

Then they usually back into the "Well I don't think children should be groomed and have sex reassignment surgery."

And then there are PLENTY of articles disproving this to be the case and pointing out what puberty blockers are for and the process to get them.

Usually around here, you either get blocked or they try to call in reinforcements.... in which case you should argue that you want to know their opinions, not anyone else's. And then they fold.

The truth is they want to hate someone they think is weak. But if they find a strong opponent it won't be fun for them anymore which is why they usually slink off or try to hit that report button, etc.

BTW, avoid using the word "cis" and use "cys" on Twitter (deadname Twitter hard).

The thing with Terfs which isn't true about the trans community, is if they disagree or see someone taking an argument different from theirs, they abandon them.

The thing about the trans community, is though two people might not agree on what trans-ness is for them, and what it means to them, or how to describe the thing, there isn't abandonment, because there is no thrill or schadenfreude. There is more thrill in sharing stories of being trans itself and sharing the identity. Someone identifies with he/they. I'm not offended at someone who is open pronouns. Someone is a trans woman. I'm not offended as an NB.

But terfs and anti-trans, yo—they jump ship and scold their own fast. It's sharks out there. I've seen it in real time when you win an argument they will turn on that person and try to eat them alive.

#queer joy when facing terfs #anti terf #know your enemy

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