#sex segregated work
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“…The term ‘working woman' (is) a tautology. There is no such thing as a woman who doesn't work. There is only a woman who isn't paid for her work. Globally, 75% of unpaid work is done by women, who spend between three and six hours per day on it compared to men's average of thirty minutes to two hours. This imbalance starts early…and increases as they get older.” - Caroline Criado Perez (Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men)
#caroline criado perez#Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men#women’s work#female labor#unpaid labor#womens history#sex segregated work#womanhood#feminism#this is why we need feminism
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#Polls#I have been pondering cultural alienation as it relates to access to gender roles#And also traditions that come with duties#I.e. do cultures that push no premarital sex pair that with a duty to then support people to find Good [religion] partners#To just make it work#And then westernized assimilation comes along#And maybe you retain the value but not the duty#So kids are left to just magically produce a DoctorLawyerAccountant partner the day they turn 23#Regardless of being in a culture that sex segregates and you aren't allowed to fraternize w the other gender#But you're Western Now so parents don't help you navigate#Idk#I ponder#My posts#Hopefully this makes sense#I briefly tried to find one of those blogs specificly for polls but gave up
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I don’t like talking about the whole trans people and bathrooms issue because it’s fucking stupid and I’m also not very articulate but I was listening to this video about “gender criticals” and women’s only spaces that was very interesting and all these posts they’re referencing make it sound like if somebody goes into a bathroom and commits a crime then the actual issue isn’t the crime committed but which bathroom they were in. And that by claiming to be the “correct” gender suddenly the hypothetical crime never took place or doesn’t matter cuz I guess bathrooms are places where the law doesn’t apply. The fucking Wild West or some shit. It did make me wonder if they fear trans women joining the ranks of primarily white cisgender women who commit crimes, even serious and violent crimes, and get off with shorter sentences than a cis man would receive or even with just a warning but I don’t think they’re actually self aware enough to even think of that. But that’s what it sounds like when they’re making all these claims that all a man has to do is claim to be a woman and suddenly there will be no punishment for the crime.
Like I said it’s fucking stupid. Who cares what gender somebody is or what parts they may have if somebody takes a piss washes their hands and leaves who gives a shit. I like that one post about Alamo drafthouse bathrooms every establishment should have bathrooms like that I’ve been to one and they’re great. I don’t really have much of a choice but to use women’s restrooms and they sure as shit ain’t some holy sanctuary of divine feminine energy and girls supporting girls or whatever. They’re gross and people try to get out as soon as they can because who the hell wants to be in here longer than necessary you fucking weirdos.
#transphobia tw#I know I’m not articulate enough to talk about anything ever#but I don’t have anyone to talk to at work and these thoughts just sit in my head so now#im inflicting them on you#don’t even get me started on the fucking sex segregated sports#when feminists have been trying to draw awareness to the fact that it’s fucking useless#and only serves to further the idea that women are inherently biologically inferior to men#fucking imagine insisting ‘but women ARE biologically inferior to men they CANT compete on the same level’#and still calling yourself a feminist what a fucking idiot
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"yikes" you're equally chronically online. we're in this mud pit together <3
What is your Hogwarts house?
jk rowling is an antisemite and transphobe who actively funds a trans exclusive domestic violence shelter in the uk.
here's a timeline of a good chunk of her public transphobia, going back about 9 years.
leave.
#if you think being online makes you trans then go ahead and log off#i didn't actually consider it until i met trans people irl#and i've been happier and healthier for it!#and to your prior point- exactly zero spaces for ''females'' are gonna let people with full beards in. sex segregated spaces do not work.#not unless you're perfectly cis and perfectly gender conforming.#trans men. cis women with pcos. intersex people who get termed women no matter how accurate that may be.#all of them get fucked because you're scared of trans women and scared of nonconformity#you're not arguing in good faith and you know that. this isn't the way.#i'll keep you in my prayers until you excise this anger from your heart.#the unfortunate discourse that comes with wizardblogging
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The hypocrisy in how gender and sex are used interchangeably by some gender activists is often a source of frustration for feminists. While activists claim that sex and gender are distinct, they also demand access to sex segregated spaces like bathrooms and sports based on gender identity. This inconsistency reveals a deeper ideological confusion that often sidelines women's concerns in favor of prioritizing gender identity over biological realities.Feminist critiques of the beauty industry focus on how it reinforces harmful standards of beauty while exploiting women's insecurities for profit. Products marketed as tools of empowerment often perpetuate the idea that women's worth is tied to their appearance. This cycle of insecurity keeps women reliant on industries that profit from their bodies, reinforcing capitalist ideals rather than promoting true self-expression. Sex work within feminism is a contentious issue, with some feminists advocating for decriminalization and others arguing for the dismantling of the industry altogether. Radical feminists believe that true liberation for women lies in addressing the root causes of exploitation, such as poverty and patriarchy, rather than simply regulating the industry. Feminist critiques of the beauty industry focus on how it reinforces harmful standards of beauty while exploiting women's insecurities for profit. Products marketed as tools of empowerment often perpetuate the idea that women's worth is tied to their appearance. This cycle of insecurity keeps women reliant on industries that profit from their bodies, reinforcing capitalist ideals rather than promoting true self-expression. Sex work within feminism is a contentious issue, with some feminists advocating for decriminalization and others arguing for the dismantling of the industry altogether. Radical feminists believe that true liberation for women lies in addressing the root causes of exploitation, such as poverty and patriarchy, rather than simply regulating the industry. The last time I sleped a female, it ended with penis in Bowsers hot tub.The men may be weird, but it still knows how to gurgle. LIP:Ive had enough of grumbp always trying to grap in The underground bunker. me:Nothing good ever comes from peang with explosive banana. LIP: How did a Saiyan as snubilius as this end up goocruxing in The underground bunker? me:
#misandrist#lesbian radfems#gender is bullshit#gendercrit#radicalfeminist#radical misandrist#tehm#male entitlement#radblr
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BTW as a trekkie the funniest thing you can do is find someone who isn't and try to explain Spock's Brain to them.
"so trek got canceled after two seasons, but fans launched a massive letter-writing campaign and got it renewed. First time that'd happened in the history of TV, I believe. They came back with an episode called Spock's Brain."
"interesting. So what's the plot?"
"aliens steal Spock's Brain"
"what. And what else?"
"no that's pretty much it. His brain gets stoled. They have to go find it."
"huh. Why do the aliens steal it?"
"they need a computer to run their society."
"and they decide to use Spock's Brain?"
"yep! So the Enterprise crew rigs up a remote control device for Spock's body so they can drive it around like a toy car, and go looking for his brain."
"wait. They don't leave it behind in, like, medical stasis?"
"nah they're worried they won't be able to get the brain back to his body in time. So they bring it along. As a remote controlled body. They've got a little remote with like 5 buttons. Walk forward, turn left, turn right, Kung-fu attack, and so on"
"attack?"
"yeah they have to fight off the aliens at one point. With Spock's body."
"huh."
"the best part? The ultimate moral of the episode seems to be against gender segregation"
"WHAT"
"yeah see the aliens who stole Spock's Brain are a bunch of cavemen living on the nuclear-winter surface and a bunch of women living below ground, with PAIN RAYS. the women steal Spock's Brain to run their society, because they're not smart enough to run their machines."
"that seems... Sexist?"
"yeah a bit. So at the end when they get Spock's Brain back, they solve the society's problems by convincing them to reintegrate the sexes and work together on solving their problems. Also Kirk says something like 'in time you'll learn that women can provide not only pain, but pleasure!' to the cave men"
"... Do the women have pleasure rays too?"
"no. He's not talking about that. Anyway this is all skipping over the fact that when they meet up with the alien woman they saw steal Spock's Brain, she doesn't know how to put it back in. Or take it out. She doesn't know what a brain is."
"what"
"yeah she was sent on this mission by the old computer that was failing, and it used a Teacher Machine to temporarily give her SUPER SURGERY skills to get the brain out."
"so she went from not knowing what a brain is to being able to do neurosurgery?"
"yeah. And here's the thing: McCoy can't put the brain back in either. It's too compilated for him."
"so they went searching for Spock's Brain, knowing that they had no way to put it back in?!"
"exactly! So McCoy gets taught how to do Super Brain Surgery by the Teacher Machine, and he starts putting Spock's Brain back in his body, but the skills wear off before he can finish"
"they wear off?"
"yeah you only get them for a few hours. So he has the brilliant idea of hooking up Spock's vocal cords so that Spock can walk him through hooking up the rest of his brain."
"there are so many reasons why that doesn't make sense"
"YEP! THAT'S SPOCK'S BRAIN!"
"so this was a guest writer who never worked before or again, right?"
"no, it was Gene Coon. He wrote like 15 episodes, most of them pretty good, and went on to do some other scifi films. He's the guy who created Khan."
"why do you like Star Trek again?"
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Ethnic cleansing? Genocide? Apartheid?
Throwing around these buzzwords to describe the Israel-Hamas war because you’ve seen them on social media doesn’t make you right, and it doesn’t make you an activist.
It makes you ignorant, intellectually dishonest, and lazy for parroting biased talking points with no concept about what these terms actually mean.
What is apartheid?
Well, it was first used to describe the political system in South Africa and today’s Namibia whereby racism was institutionalised. This manner of governance meant that clear racial segregation would occur, in a manner that benefited the white race and would actively oppress those who had darker skin.
This meant that there were white-only spaces, white people would get prioritised when it came to education and jobs, and relationships/marriages between white peoples and coloured people were illegal.
Is Israel objectively an apartheid state? There are no laws that actively favour one group over the other. There is a sizeable population of Israeli Arabs that can thrive in the same way as the Israeli Jews can. There are laws against discrimination on the basis of gender, race/ethnicity, and sexual orientation.
Palestinians from Gaza are allowed to work in Israel through a work permit system. There are about 150,000 Palestinians working in Israel, most of which live in Israel and some come from Gaza/the West Bank. They aren’t denied rights institutionally.
Is it harder to get a job or education in Israel if you’re a Palestinian from Gaza? Sure, because of different governments. It’s like how it’s a lot easier for you to find a job in your own country (in terms of paperwork and bureaucracy) than overseas. But you’re not denied the right to apply.
Of course, if you have a history of violence, a criminal record, or your family has ties to terrorists, then it’ll be a lot harder to get an approved work permit. But that’s not apartheid. That’s common sense, and a regulation practiced by all countries that minimally desire to protect their own population from danger.
Ethnic cleansing and genocide
These two concepts can go hand-in-hand. Ethnic cleansing refers to the mass expulsion or killing of a group of people based on their ethnicity. Similarly, genocide is the purposeful killing of a group of people solely with the intention of annihilating them.
Famous examples? The Holocaust, of course, where the Nazi regime believed in the superiority of the Aryan race and decided to declare genocide on the Jews, Romanis, the LGBTQ+ community, people with disabilities, people with “Asian features”, and many many other groups. Anyone who they didn’t think was “pure”.
Their aim was to ensure that the Aryan race propagated without having “impure” blood affecting the bloodlines. They even started a eugenics programme called Lebensborn to ensure that more pure Aryan babies were born.
More recent examples? The Rwandan genocide where the Hutus attempted to wipe out the Tutsis on the basis of ethnicity. They mandated that Tutsis mention their ethnicity on state-issued ID cards in order for the Hutus in power to be able to identify them and then kill them.
Or the Yazidi genocide which happened so recently, in which ISIL killed, raped, and sent thousands of Yazidis into conversion camps on the basis of their ethnicity. They also took Yazidi women as sex slaves and raped and tortured them.
Or the Rohingya Muslims in the Rakhine State in Myanmar, and how there was a mass killing and expulsion of them from the country, forcing them to flee to Bangladesh to take refuge, crating the world’s largest refugee camp.
Or how ISIS killed thousands of people from Christian groups in Iraq, Syria, Egypt, and Libya because of their faith, leading the US, EU, and UK to label this as religious genocide and condemned their actions.
Has Israel been practicing ethnic cleansing and genocide on Palestinians all these years?
Well, the birth rate of the Palestinian population in Gaza, the West Bank, and in Israel has been steadily increasing all these years.
So, no. No ethnic cleansing, no genocide. They are free to have as many children as they desire.
The UN Genocide Convention
The United Nations has 5 actions that constitute genocide.
1. Killing members of a target group
Israel is targeting Hamas officials with the aim of wiping out the terrorist group and ensuring that such a deadly attack on Israeli soil doesn’t happen again. I suppose you could call it genocide against Hamas, but they’re killing Hamas because they’re terrorists, not because they’re Palestinian. Shouldn’t everyone believe in genocide against terrorists?
But look at Black Saturday. Look at Hamas’ rhetoric. They repeatedly call for the annihilation of Israel and genocide of Jews. When will the media start believing what they say, word for word, instead of trying to spin it into “hmm maybe they want to kill all the Jews because they’re freedom fighters!”
War has collateral damage. Of course the innocent civilians don’t deserve to suffer just because of the actions of their government, but there have been warnings given to the Palestinian civilians prior to Israel striking the areas. There are consequences of attacking a country first, and then having that country attack you back.
2. Causing people of the group serious bodily or mental harm
The UN refers to sexual violence as the prime example of non-fatal harm.
Sexual violence has occurred. Hamas have kidnapped and raped women and even paraded the bodies of half-naked women around. But I f Israel had done the same, it’ll be the first thing appearing on everyone’s BBC push notifications (without even being confirmed as true).
3. Imposing living conditions intended to destroy the group
Many people refer to the blockade that Israel imposed around the Gaza Strip as an example of this.
This blockade was imposed by both Israel and Egypt in 2005. Its aim was to prevent smuggling of weapons into Gaza, and isolate the reign of Hamas to the region. This was to ensure the safety of Israel and Egypt.
Did this blockade pose serious challenges to the Gazan civilians? Of course. But that’s a consequence of having a terrorist government. If you have a terrorist group running your country, don’t be surprised if neighbouring countries are extra careful about who or what they allow in or out of the borders.
Many authorities from other Arab nations have also expressed approval of Egypt’s border restrictions, and even encouraged Egypt to flood the terror tunnels that Hamas has dug under the city. As a side note, other Arab nations have not historically been very kind or welcoming to Palestinians. Syria has killed over 4000 Palestinians, and many Arab countries are now refusing any refuge for Palestinians. But no one cares about that because it doesn’t make Israel look bad. All they do now is use the images of dead Palestinians under the hands of Syria and reuse them to propagate fake news.
The blockade has been labelled as a human rights violation because of collective punishment. Many humanitarian organisations believe that the blockade has caused the Palestinian civilians disproportionate harm.
Contrary to popular belief, Israel isn’t disallowing humanitarian aid from coming through the borders. Fuel, food, hygiene products, clothes, and shoes have been coming through the borders regularly for years. The Gaza Strip also has electricity and internet access and water.
Do all these items reach the Palestinian civilians? Well, there has been evidence that Hamas has been intercepting a lot of the supplies sent by humanitarian groups. This is not surprising since the UNRWA tweeted that Hamas has stole fuel from hospitals in Gaza in order to launch more rockets at Israel (but quickly deleted it after realising that it goes against their agenda to paint Hamas in a bad light.) In addition, the returned hostages have mentioned that there are many aid supplies hidden in the terror tunnels by Hamas. Instead of giving them to the civilians, they are hoarding it for themselves.
There has also been video evidence that some people are reselling these aid items in stores at exorbitant prices in order to turn profits. This has been well-documented for the last 10 years.
Is blockading the region to mitigate terrorism a disproportionate response? Well, it’s like asking if heightened security and stricter border control at airports is a disproportionate response after 9/11. Is being cautious and worrying about the security of your country an irrational reaction to the constant threat of terrorism?
4. Preventing births
Gaza’s population growth rate per annum is about 1.99%, which is the 39th highest in the world! Their population is allowed to propagate freely.
Israel isn’t preventing births of Palestinian babies.
5. Forcibly transferring children out of the group
No, Israel hasn’t been taking Palestinian children and forcing them to convert/keeping young Palestinian girls as sex slaves. Like I said, if this was truly happening, all the news outlets would be so quick to publish the story before verifying it.
Can we trust the UN Genocide standards?
The UN is known for corruption and have been exploiting the Palestinian people by selling them the humanitarian supplies instead of distributing them for free, which they should because these supplies literally are donations.
The UN also has differing standards of what they would label as genocide. For example, they refuse to call what China is doing to the Uyghurs in Xinjiang as genocide, even though the situation does fit many of their own criteria.
Hence, to all of you out there overusing these terms without knowing what they mean, make up your own mind about things. No one can force you to believe anything and no one can force you to change your mind.
But at the very least, do your due diligence and educate yourself before spouting tired buzzwords. Repeating misinformation doesn’t help anyone and can be very harmful.
#i stand with israel#israel#palestine#gaza#stop hamas#pro israel#am yisrael chai#hamas#fuck hamas#hypocrisy#i support israel#using buzzwords doesn’t make you smart#do your homework#do your own research#unrwa is a scam#make up your own mind#reading Al Jazeera headlines isn’t education#media bias#call out fake news#stop fake news#stop anti semitism
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Filters in the way of technologically advanced life in the universe and how likely I think they are
1. Abiogenesis (4.4-3-8 billion years ago): Total mystery. The fact that it happened so quickly on Earth (possibly as soon as there was abundant liquid water) is a tiny bit of evidence for it being easy. Amino acids and polycyclic hydrocarbons are very common in space, but nucleotides aren't, and all hypothetic models I've seen require very specific conditions and a precise sequence of steps. (It would be funny if the dozen different mechanisms proposed for abiogenesis were all happening independently somewhere.)
2. Oxygenic photosynthesis (3.5 billion years ago) (to fuel abundant biomass, and provide oxygen or some other oxidizer for fast metabolism): Not so sure. Photosynthesis is just good business sense -- sunlight is right there -- and appeared several times among bacteria. But the specific type of ultra-energetic photosynthesis that cracks water and releases oxygen appeared only once, in Cyanobacteria. That required merging two different photosynthetic apparati in a rather complex way; and all later adoptions of oxygenic photosynthesis involved incorporating Cyanobacteria by endosymbiosis. For all that it's so useful, I don't know if I'd expect to see it on every living planet.
3. Eukaryotic cell (2.4 billion years ago?): Probably the narrowest bottleneck on the list. Segregated mitochondria with their own genes and a nucleus protecting the main genome are extremely useful both for energy production (decentralized control to maximize production without overloading) and for genetic storage (less DNA damage due to reactive metabolic waste). But there's a chicken-and-egg problem in which incorporating mitochondria to make energy requires an adjustable cytoskeleton, but that consumes so much energy it would require mitochondria already in place. Current models have found solutions that involve a very specific series of events. Or maybe not? Metabolic symbiosis, per se, is common, and there may have been other ways to gene-energy segregation. Besides, after the origin of eukaryotes, endosymbiosis occurred at least nine more times, and even some bacteria can incorporate smaller cells.
4. Sexual reproduction (by 1.2 billion years ago): Without meiotic sex (combining mutations from different lineages, decoupling useful traits from harmful ones, translating a gene in multiple way), the evolution of complex beings is going to be painfully slow. Bacteria already swap genes to an extent, and sexual recombination is bundled in with the origin of eukaryotes so I probably shouldn't count it separately (meiosis is just as energy-intensive as any other use of the cytoskeleton). Once you have recombination, life cycles with spores or gametes and sex differentiation probably follow almost inevitably.
5. Multicellularity (800 million years ago?): Quite common, actually. Happens all the time among eukaryotes, and once in a very limited form even among bacteria. Now we'd want complex organized bodies with geometry-defining genes, but even that happened thrice: in plants, fungi, and animals. As far as I know, various groups of yeasts are the only regressions to unicellularity.
6. Brains and sense organs (600 million years ago): Nerve cells arose either once or twice, depending on whether Ctenophora (comb-jellies) and Eumetazoa (all other animals except sponges) form a single clade or not. Some form of cellular sensing and communication is universal in life, though, so a tissue specialized for signal transmission is probably near inevitable once you have multicellular organisms whose lifestyle depends on moving and interacting with the environment. Sense organs that work at a distance are also needed, but image-forming eyes evolved in six phyla, so no danger there (and there's so many other potential forms of communication!). Just to be safe, you'll also want muscles and maybe mineralized skeletons on the list, but I don't think either is particularly problematic. An articulated skeleton is probably better than a rigid shell, but we still have multiple examples of that (polyplacophorans, brittle stars, arthropods, vertebrates).
7. Life on land (400 million years ago): (Adding this because air has a lot more oxygen to fuel brains than water (the most intelligent aquatic beings are air-breathers), and technology in water has the issue of fire.) You're going to need a waterproof integument, some kind of rigid support system, and kidneys to regulate water balance. Plenty of animal lineages moved on land: vertebrates, insects, millipedes, spiders, scorpions, multiple types of crabs, snails, earthworms, etc. Note that most of those are arthropods: this step seems to favor exoskeletons, which help a great deal in retaining water. Of course this depends on plants getting on land first, which on Earth happened only once, and required the invention of spores and cuticles. (Actually there are polar environments where all photosynthesis occurs in water, but they are recently settled and hardly the most productive.)
8. Human-like intelligence (a few million years ago?): There seems to a be a general trend in which the max intelligence attainable by animals on Earth has increased over time. There's quite a lot of animals today that approach or rival apes in intelligence: elephants, toothed cetaceans, various carnivorans, corvids, parrots, octopodes, and there's even intriguing data about jumping spiders. Birds seem to have developed neocortex-like brain structures independently. Of course humans got much farther, but the fact that even other human species are gone suggests that a planet is not big enough for more than one sophont, so the uniqueness of humans might not necessarily imply low probability. (We seem to exist about halfway through the habitability span of Earth land, FWIW.) The evolution of sociality should probably be lumped here: we'll want a species that can teach skills to its offspring and cooperate on tasks. But sociality is also a common and useful adaptation: many species on our list (octopodes are a glaring exception) are intensely social and care for their offspring. I mentioned above that the land-step favors exoskeletal beings, which in turns favors small size; but the size ranges of large land arthropods and very intelligent birds overlap, so that's not disqualifying.
9. Agriculture and urban civilization (11,000 years ago): Agriculture arrived quite late in the history of our species, but when it arrived -- i.e. at the end of the Wurm glaciation -- it arrived independently in four to eight different places around the world, in different biogeographic realms and climates, so I must assume that at least some climate regimes are great for it (glacial cycles are a minority of Earth's history; but did agriculture need to come after glaciations? Maybe a shock of seasonality did the trick). And once you have agriculture, complex urbanized societies follow most of the time, just a few millennia later. Even writing arose at least three times (Near East, China, and Mexico), and then spread quickly.
10. Scientific method and industrialization (300 years ago): We're getting too far from my expertise here, but whatever. The Eurasian Axial Age suggests that all civilizations with a certain degree of wealth, literacy, and interconnection will spawn a variety of philosophies. Philosophical schools that focus on material causes and effects like the Ionians or Charvaka have appeared sometimes, but often didn't win over more supernaturalist schools. Perhaps in pre-industrial times pure materialism isn't as useful! You may need to thread a needle between interconnected enough to exchange and combine ideas, and also decentralized enough that the intellectual elite can't quash heterodoxy. As for industrialization, that too happened only once, though that's another case in which the first achiever would snuff out any other. I hear Song China is a popular contender for alternative Industrial Revolutions (with coal-powered steelworks!); Imperial Rome and the Abbasid Caliphate are less convincing ones. For whatever reason, it didn't take until 18th century Britain.
11. Not dying randomly along the way: Mass extinctions killing off a majority of species happened over and over -- the Permian Great Dying, the Chicxulub impact, the early Oxygen Crisis -- but life has always rebounded fairly quickly and effectively. It's hard enough to sterilize an agar plate, let alone a planet. Disasters on this scale are also unlikely to happen in the lifespan of planet-bound civilizations, unless of course the civilizations are causing them. A civilization might still face catastrophic climate change, mega-pandemics, and nuclear war, not to mention lesser setbacks like culture-wide stagnation or collapse, and I couldn't begin to estimate how common, or ruinous, they would actually be.
****
I have no idea how common the origin of life is, but the vast majority of planets with life will only have bacterial mats and stromatolites. Of the tiny sliver that evolved complex cells, a good chunk will have their equivalents of plants and animals, most of which may have intelligent life at least on primate- or cetacean-level at some later point. At any given time, a tiny fraction of those will have agricultural civilizations, at an even tinier fraction of that will have post-industrial science and technology. Let's say maybe 1 planet with industrial technology out of 100 with agriculture, 100,000 with hominid-level intelligence, 10 million with animal-like organisms, 100 millions with complex cells, and 10 billions with life at all?
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the discriminatory acts described as transandrophobia come from the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, because transphobes see trans men as women and treat them in a manner informed by that belief, whereas transmisogyny refers to discrimination caused by the fact transphobes consider trans women not to be real men or women but in a category referred to as sissies, failed males, traps, he-shes, futas, femboys, dickgirls, MtFs, etc., which is similar in inferiority and sexually objectified like women, but deemed less worthy of life due to the tendency of misogynists to associate a woman's worth with how well she adheres to patriarchal standards of beauty, her aptitude and willingness to be a mother and housewife, as well as her ability to have children. in tandem is posturing from conservatives that transgender women are debauched perverts angling to gain access to the women's area in gender segregated spaces and caregiver roles in order to rape and molest women and kids, pretty much begging the vigilante public to hurt or kill us.
in the US and globally trans women, specifically trans women of color, even more specifically Black trans women, and even more specifically than that Black trans women sex workers are murdered in disproportionate numbers compared to other trans people based on 2024 global data from the nonprofit Trans Europe and Central Asia and 2024 national data from the Human Rights Campaign in the US. the Human Rights Campaign also has data on the transgender wage gap, showing trans women in the US are paid the least compared to a cis white man in the same role, with further decline when the trans woman is Black, Latine, or Indigenous.
again, trans men and trans women are both negatively impacted by transphobia and misogyny. it's important for us to do the work of dismantling both forces together, and we can do that while recognizing the two have specific intersections with other axes of oppression which allow us to identify, based on statistical analysis, those of us who are at an outsized risk of harm: those to whom transmisogyny is applicable.
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Heather Cox Richardson 11.15.24
One of President-elect Trump’s campaign pledges was to eliminate the Department of Education. He claimed that the department pushes “woke” ideology on America’s schoolchildren and that its employees “hate our children.” He promised to “return” education to the states.
In fact, the Department of Education does not set curriculum; states and local governments do. The Department of Education collects statistics about schools to monitor student performance and promote practices based in evidence. It provides about 10% of funding for K–12 schools through federal grants of about $19.1 billion to high-poverty schools and of $15.5 billion to help cover the cost of educating students with disabilities.
It also oversees the $1.6 trillion federal student loan program, including setting the rules under which colleges and universities can participate. But what really upsets the radical right is that the Department of Education is in charge of prohibiting discrimination on the basis of race and sex in schools that get federal funding, a policy Congress set in 1975 with an act now known as the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). This was before Congress created the department.
The Department of Education became a stand-alone department in May 1980 under Democratic president Jimmy Carter, when Congress split the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare into two departments: the Department of Health and Human Services and the Department of Education.
A Republican-dominated Congress established the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare in 1953 under Republican president Dwight D. Eisenhower as part of a broad attempt to improve the nation’s schools and Americans’ well-being in the flourishing post–World War II economy. When the Soviet Union beat the United States into space by sending up the first Sputnik satellite in 1957, lawmakers concerned that American children were falling behind put more money and effort into educating the country’s youth, especially in math and science.
But support for federal oversight of education took a devastating hit after the Supreme Court, headed by Eisenhower appointee Chief Justice Earl Warren, declared racially segregated schools unconstitutional in the May 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision.
Immediately, white southern lawmakers launched a campaign of what they called “massive resistance” to integration. Some Virginia counties closed their public schools. Other school districts took funds from integrated public schools and used a grant system to redistribute those funds to segregated private schools. Then, Supreme Court decisions in 1962 and 1963 that declared prayer in schools unconstitutional cemented the decision of white evangelicals to leave the public schools, convinced that public schools were leading their children to perdition.
In 1980, Republican Ronald Reagan ran on a promise to eliminate the new Department of Education.
After Reagan’s election, his secretary of education commissioned a study of the nation’s public schools, starting with the conviction that there was a “widespread public perception that something is seriously remiss in our educational system.” The resulting report, titled “A Nation at Risk,” announced that “the educational foundations of our society are presently being eroded by a rising tide of mediocrity that threatens our very future as a Nation and a people.”
Although a later study commissioned in 1990 by the Secretary of Energy found the data in the original report did not support the report’s conclusions, Reagan nonetheless used the report in his day to justify school privatization. He vowed after the report’s release that he would “continue to work in the months ahead for passage of tuition tax credits, vouchers, educational savings accounts, voluntary school prayer, and abolishing the Department of Education. Our agenda is to restore quality to education by increasing competition and by strengthening parental choice and local control.”
The rise of white evangelism and its marriage to Republican politics fed the right-wing conviction that public education no longer served “family values” and that parents had been cut out of their children’s education. Christians began to educate their children at home, believing that public schools were indoctrinating their children with secular values.
When he took office in 2017, Trump rewarded those evangelicals who had supported his candidacy by putting right-wing evangelical activist Betsy DeVos in charge of the Education Department. She called for eliminating the department—until she used its funding power to try to keep schools open during the covid pandemic—and asked for massive cuts in education spending.
Rather than funding public schools, DeVos called instead for tax money to be spent on education vouchers, which distribute tax money to parents to spend for education as they see fit. This system starves the public schools and subsidizes wealthy families whose children are already in private schools. DeVos also rolled back civil rights protections for students of color and LGBTQ+ students but increased protections for students accused of sexual assault.
In 2019, the 1619 Project, published by the New York Times Magazine on the 400th anniversary of the arrival of enslaved Africans at Jamestown in Virginia Colony, argued that the true history of the United States began in 1619, establishing the roots of the country in the enslavement of Black Americans. That, combined with the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020, prompted Trump to commission the 1776 Project, which rooted the country in its original patriotic ideals and insisted that any moments in which it had fallen away from those ideals were quickly corrected. He also moved to ban diversity training in federal agencies.
When Trump lost the 2020 election, his loyalists turned to undermining the public schools to destroy what they considered an illegitimate focus on race and gender that was corrupting children. In January 2021, Republican activists formed Moms for Liberty, which called itself a parental rights organization and began to demand the banning of LGBTQ+ books from school libraries. Right-wing activist Christopher Rufo engineered a national panic over the false idea that public school educators were teaching their students critical race theory, a theory taught as an elective in law school to explain why desegregation laws had not ended racial discrimination.
After January 2021, 44 legislatures began to consider laws to ban the teaching of critical race theory or to limit how teachers could talk about racism and sexism, saying that existing curricula caused white children to feel guilty.
When the Biden administration expanded the protections enforced by the Department of Education to include LGBTQ+ students, Trump turned to focusing on the idea that transgender students were playing high-school sports despite the restrictions on that practice in the interest of “ensuring fairness in competition or preventing sports-related injury.”
During the 2024 political campaign, Trump brought the longstanding theme of public schools as dangerous sites of indoctrination to a ridiculous conclusion, repeatedly insisting that public schools were performing gender-transition surgery on students. But that cartoonish exaggeration spoke to voters who had come to see the equal rights protected by the Department of Education as an assault on their own identity. That position leads directly to the idea of eliminating the Department of Education.
But that might not work out as right-wing Americans imagine. As Morning Joe economic analyst Steven Rattner notes, for all that Republicans embrace the attacks on public education, Republican-dominated states receive significantly more federal money for education than Democratic-dominated states do, although the Democratic states contribute significantly more tax dollars.
There is a bigger game afoot, though, than the current attack on the Department of Education. As Thomas Jefferson recognized, education is fundamental to democracy, because only educated people can accurately evaluate the governmental policies that will truly benefit them.
In 1786, Jefferson wrote to a colleague about public education: “No other sure foundation can be devised for the preservation of freedom, and happiness…. Preach, my dear Sir, a crusade against ignorance; establish and improve the law for educating the common people. Let our countrymen know that the people alone can protect us against [the evils of “kings, nobles and priests”], and that the tax which will be paid for this purpose is not more than the thousandth part of what will be paid to kings, priests and nobles who will rise up among us if we leave the people in ignorance.”
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freeuse w/ atz • maknaeline
part two of a request from anon: somno and free use with ateez.
i felt that, incidentally, somno and free use were more suited to the elder and younger members respectively; with that in mind i divided this request into two parts, the first being somnophilia with hyungline, which can be found in my masterlist.
this post contains relatively intense kinks; read on for specific warnings.
‘free use’ is defined as “a kink in which someone consents to being available to have sex with or to be "used" by their partner at any time.” as such there will be themes/instances which could be interepreted as lacking consent if you don’t know what free-use is; rest assured that consent is forthcoming in every scenario.
warnings: free-use, rough sex, bruises & marking, public sex, segregation, humiliation, conditioning, power imbalance, strength kink.
if you are not comfortable, please scroll on; your triggers are not my responsibility and any hate will be deleted and blocked.
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for san, free-use is about expressing love. which may sound a bit weird, but hear me out here. now don’t get me wrong, the idea of his precious girl being ready and waiting for him, a toy for him to use, is thrilling to him — he’s a red blooded male, who can blame him? but it’s much, much more than that for him.
agreeing to this kind of arrangement — being someone’s toy, to be used and fucked at any point without asking — takes a huge amount of trust on both sides. the sub has to trust that the dom will cherish this power and not abuse it any more than they want to be abused. the dom has to trust that the sub is genuine, and will communicate honestly and effectively if they don’t like something, even safeword if necessary. and the act of trust each other with that — particularly the sub trusting the dom to use and own them in that way — is, to san, an incredible act of love.
san doesn’t just acknowledge and appreciate the trust you put in him by agreeing to this, he adores it. it’s the most special, beautiful thing to him and the highest honour of his life. so seeing this whole arrangement as an act of trust, and thereby of love, it’s natural for him to view using the arrangement as loving itself. and of course, sex can itself be an act of love too, which it certainly is for san.
compared to the others, there’s a lot less mind games or control at play here; you’re his toy, and he likes that you know that, but you are equally (more so, actually) his angel, his favourite thing in the world. and for him, the idea of fucking you whenever he wants, or simply taking you into his arms, working your hole open and sliding in, is a way to show his love for you, to truly feel it, and to release the pent-up energy you cause him — your beauty is, to him, unbearable at times, and just by looking at you he gets worked up and flustered, so of course he needs a release. and you, ready and waiting for him, are the perfect vessel.
san prefers to make love than to fuck — but don’t for a minute thing that he won’t fuck. occasionally (relatively often, actually), when he’s really pent up from work or other stresses or, in most cases, how fucking incredible you look that day; when holding you and making love with slow, deep strokes just wont do it, he’ll fuck you and he’ll fuck you hard. because he doesn’t do it as often it’s easy to forget this, but i think san is one of the hardest fuckers in ateez; he uses everything he has, from his strength to his pent-up energy and tension, to fuck you into oblivion, making you scream, even cry from the unending, overwhelming pleasure. yeah, he’ll drill into you mercilessly; probably not saying much because he’s completely focused on ravaging you. it’s a rare(ish) treat but that’s probably good; he goes so hard that you couldn’t handle it much more often.
in free-use terms this definitely comes into play. if he’s pent-up and frustrated enough to be fucking you like that then he’s definitely pent-up enough to not want to wait. he doesn’t have time to proposition you or tease you or do anything except hurriedly bend you over and slam into you. as mentioned before he’s not super talkative in these moods; if he’s crept up on you in a hurry he’ll just hiss “take it” in your ear, maybe repeat it if you’re not being still or pliant enough for his liking. but when he fucks you like that there’s no doubt, you are the one making the noise. screaming, yelling, begging — though for what, you never really know. it’s another strangely thrilling thing for you that reinforces your current position as his fucktoy — you can scream, cry, make whatever noise you want and he’ll just act like he can’t hear you. he’ll just keep going, faster and faster until he is done.
afterwards of course, he’ll be sweeter than ever. holding you in his arms, cooing and praising you as he scans you for marks and bruising; he’ll take such good, careful care of you — his precious, pliant girl. and he’ll be extra gentle with you the next day, getting you whatever you want, hugging you on the bed and couch while you relax and recover. you’ll be blissed out and completely carefree — but in the back of your mind you know that once you’re better, once the marks fade and the aching in your bones subsides, you’re be getting ruined all over again.
mingi is the biggest free-use culprit in ateez, and he’s not quite sure why exactly. there’s several reasons why he likes it; first of all, you’re incredibly attractive, and cause him to have an even higher sex drive than usual — so whenever you’re around him, he’s about 10 seconds from getting hard. a free-use arrangement allows him relief whenever he needs it, without the hassle of asking for and building to full sex. there’s no need for permission (in the moment — of course your consent is established prior) or foreplay when you’re constantly available for him — all he has to do is tell you to bend over, or bend you over himself, then slide in and fuck you til he comes. it’s pretty quick usually — the sight of you bent over whatever surface he chose, your holes happily exposed; and the knowledge that you’re happily and willingly his to use and take advantage of whenever he wants, usually drives him to orgasm pretty quickly. he can’t help it — you’re just so pretty and so pliant that he loses control. and when he does take a little longer, he knows you’ll lie there and take every second of it until he’s done, just like he taught you to; and if he wants to finish a little quicker, all he has to do it bark out that singular command — “clench, slut” — and you’ll have him coming soon enough just from the way your walls tighten around him.
sometimes though, maybe after a long day or a tiring performance, mingi doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you. but don’t worry — you’ll still get your fix and so will he. he’ll just order you on top of him — if he doesn’t just grab you and put you there himself — and make you ride him to completion. if you’re lucky, he’ll help you; iron grip on your hips or ass as he guides you up and down, groaning about how good you are. but being a free-use toy, he knows you don’t really need that — you’ll ride him until you can’t and then some just because he told you to, so if he wants to keep watching tv, or maybe work on a track if you’re in the studio, he’ll tell you to get on with it and ignore you until he finally finishes. maybe he’ll wrap a hand round your neck to encourage you along but that’s his prerogative.
after you’re done, mingi is the tenderest with aftercare — he knows it can be draining physically and mentally to be used and regarded as an object, so even though you love this and it was probably your idea in fact, he’s sure to take good care of you afterwards and in general. not the usual kind of immediate aftercare — he’s not giving you a bath and fussing over you the way he usually does; probably because you requested that, believing it would defeat the idea of free-use. but if he came in you he’ll be sure to wipe you down gently, using a wet cloth to wipe any cum that’s dripping down your legs, before gently pulling your panties and any clothes you might have been wearing back up and pulling you into a hug before walking away or, if you’d been riding him, letting you fall asleep on his lap. either way, the real ‘tenderness’ will be when you’re both snuggled up in bed at night — he’ll comb a hand through your hair, kissing your head as he tells you how lucky he is to have such a good, obedient toy.
two small side notes — i think mingi is definitely the type to, if you’re down, offer you up to his members when they’re particularly stressed. this would have started from your idea, of course, and he might have been hesitant at first but now he loves it; loves watching his baby get fucked and used by his cherished members and the reminder it gives to both him and you that you really are his toy, ready to be used at his command. and of course he’s watching the whole time, making sure they’re treating you the way his pretty slut deserves to be treated.
secondly, i think he’s another one who may enjoy a no-clothing-in-the-house rule, though he wouldn’t enforce it as strictly as, say, yunho would; he’s fine with you wearing clothes when you want but he loves it when you don’t — loves being able to watch as your ass and tits bounce while you walk around or do chores. maybe he’ll pull his dick out and get off just to the sight of it — and the knowledge that you’re such a good toy that you don’t even need to be touched to be used in this way.
for wooyoung, free-use is a game. not that he doesn’t take it seriously — he recognises the seriousness of it and the level of trust you put in him just by agreeing to it more than anyone. but wooyoung is the type of dom who likes to play, to toy with you. as i’ve mentioned before he loves acting like everything is all good fun, and he loves to laugh at you, if only to see the way you flush and hide your face in embarrassment. and free-use is a perfect way to achieve all this. and wooyoung, perhaps one of the most adventurous kink-wise, truly takes it to the extreme; within your own boundaries of course, he takes free-use very literally — you are free to be used anytime, anywhere, regardless of where you are or who you’re with.
the most common scenario is when you’re out; say at a restaurant with your friends or his. your phone will buzz and you only have to turn to see the look on wooyoung’s face to know who’s texted you. go to the bathroom, it says, and wait for me with your holes spread. seeing you stare open-mouthed at him he’ll tilt his head, feigning concern as he asks “everything alright, babe?” cursing him to hell, you’ll nod sweetly before excusing yourself. he’ll wait a moment to not seem suspicious before, a worried look on his face, excusing himself to follow you — “she seemed quite unwell, don’t you think? i’ll just go check on her” — and the others, none the wiser, will nod and tell him to take all the time he needs. i will, he’d think as he practically slipped away. little do they know, when he arrives in the bathroom to see you bent over, spreading your cheeks just as he’d ordered you, he quickly fucks your to completion before dragging you back out with a smile and a warning to not give it away. “she’s fine!” he’d beam, “just a bit of nausea. she’s ok now, aren’t you baby?”
of course, the free-use is much more open at home — you definitely don’t wear clothes in the house and though he won’t punish you if you do, he’ll look at you like you’re crazy, or unwell maybe, face scrunched in confusion and amusement as he asks “what is that you’re wearing, baby?” the reason he’s so against you wearing clothes is first of all so he can ogle at you, just like mingi — he likes to catcall you as you walk by, commenting on the way your tits are swinging or, if he feels a little nicer, just telling you how pretty and fuckable you look. he’s a big groper too — he’ll feel you up silently as he walks by, squeezing and lightly slapping your tits and ass, sometimes commenting on the marks or movements it results in and sometimes just moving on without a word. he also, predictably, likes vibrators — if you’re washing dishes or something he’ll sneak up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and you’ll think he’s pulling you into a hug until something cold starts to penetrate you. and you don’t have to wait long to figure out what it is; as soon as it’s in he’ll have it on at the highest setting (it’s probably one of the ones you can control with your phone). ever the gentleman, he’ll offer to help you with your chores since you’re a little distracted now, but you know he’s not asking to be helpful; he wants a front-row seat as you squirm, whine, maybe even come.
he’s quite mean when he’s using you as i’ve touched on — he takes the idea of you as an object or a toy very seriously, and treats and talks to you as such. if you’re not red in the face from what he’s doing to you, you certainly will be from the way he laughs at and degrades you. especially in the public plays mentioned previous; he loves to take advantage of the vulnerable, exposed position you’re in just a single locked door away from everyone else — “what if someone walked in right now and saw you like this, huh? bent over in a public bathroom just because i wanted to use you? gross, babe”.
yeah, he’s mean, but so sweet afterwards. he kind of wishes the others did know what you two did, in fact — solely because he wants to brag about how good you were; how well you took him. and when you get home he’s running a bath for you, insisting on washing you himself. such a sweet, occasionally sadistic boy.
jongho loves the sense of power free-use gives him. even if he’s quite vanilla — which he may well not be — power and ownership is something quite particular to him. it gets him off in a way nothing else can, knowing this beautiful, smart, perfect woman is his to own and actually wants to be used by him, wants to feel beneath him. a rush would be the way to describe it; it goes to his head and makes his heart race just to see you like that — asking his help or permission for small things etc.
where free-use comes into this is that it is a very real way for you to demonstrate his power over you; by being readily available, waiting to bend over or spread your legs at his command — a mere click of his fingers, perhaps — you show him you’re his to use, whenever he wants without exception. like most of your more extreme adventures kink-wise, you probably suggested it, and he hadn’t much idea what it was. but that’s okay — it meant you got to see the way his eyes glazed over, pants tightening a little as he swallowed thickly when you explained it to him. and seeing him so affected by the idea of using you whenever he wanted did something for you too, so it was hardly a surprise when, after considering your suggestion for a moment, he’d stood up, already unzipping his pants as he said “then bend over”. and from the thick and raspy undertone of his voice you knew that this wasn’t a request — it was the first of many orders you’d receive from him.
going back to the ‘clicking his fingers’ i mentioned earlier, i think he’s definitely ended up teaching you nonverbal commands, even conditioning you a bit; probably not even on purpose — when he ordered you to bend over or spread you legs, just to be ready for him to fuck you, he’d click his fingers as he said it; over time you’ve come to associate him clicking his fingers with that order and that’s all he needs to do to now. he just looks at you and clicks his fingers and you automatically get in position for him — maybe without even realising it. it’s just an automatic physical response now; you might not even know you do it in general but he definitely does, and he loves it. it’s a level of power over you he never expected to have but fuck it gets him off. anyway…
one last final note — he’s a manhandler. we knew that of course; jongho is the type of person who likes to use every weapon in his arsenal and being so buff (and proud of it (as he should be)) of course he’d use his strength in this. putting you in a different position, holding you in position, anything he has to do. it’d be especially useful because i think he can last quite a while, so you’d end up getting tired or overstimulated but of course, he decides when this ends, not you. so if you start squirming or thrashing a bit, he’ll just hold you down or headlock you and keep doing what he needs to be doing.
very good at aftercare though — any bruises you may have gotten from his roughness or from being held down will be taken excellent care of, and he never misses a chance to praise and reward you for being so good and letting him do whatever he wants to you.
thank you for reading! let me know your thoughts & who was your favourite! i’d love to see who you’d most like to try this with. please reblog & comment if you enjoyed, it’s a huge motivator for me. requests are OPEN! love🖤🖤🖤
#ateez smut#ateez hard hours#ateez x reader#san hard thoughts#choi san smut#san smut#mingi smut#wooyoung smut#jongho smut#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#dom ateez#mulloey yaps
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Propaganda
Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.
Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut. the famous banana skirt is mildly NSFW.]
Josephine Baker:
Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.
Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.
She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.
So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry
Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.
Joan Crawford:
I just love women that are very mean.
she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.
The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows
of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles
Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?
(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.
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ꨄOur Alphaꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Celebrity/Omegaverse Au
❦You have to survive as a maid in a celebrity omegan mansion❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader
Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I know there are different variations of omegaverse with sub gender roles. For this specific story, female alphas are not likely to get pregnant but it’s still possible, the omega males are usually the ones to nurture the child, traditionally. Y/n will have female genitalia. Basically omega females will be impregnated, alpha females may get pregnant by alpha males as well as omega males but omega and alpha males cannot get pregnant. Omegas of both genders get heats while alphas of both genders get ruts.
In this world, omegas are at the top of the hierarchy in sociatel terms because of their divine energy. They’re the nurturers while alphas are seen as aggressive and easy to sway, only thinking with their genitals which is seen as weakness even though omegas can be manipulative and murderous. Alphas are basically used to breed. For heats, alphas can be used but if not then omegas help each other, without the markings and ruts.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
Our Alpha
Being an alpha in this world can be challenging. Constantly having to prove yourself no matter the circumstances in which you find yourself in. You could be murdered by an omega and still get blamed for whatever happened to you. Some omegas have even falsely accused alphas of terrible behavior, winning in the process while the alpha gets the most gruesome punishment. Alphas are almost always classified as low class citizens, getting the scraps that the omegas may or may not give.
Sure, there are successful alphas out there but only the few favored by omegas, gaining their way to the top by bargaining their own bodies. Regardless, it’s very dangerous to be an alpha involved with an omega, even if traditionally your instincts yearn for it. Tying yourself to an omega is a life sentence of becoming a slave considering once you bite them, you’re tied together by a bond for life. This is why you have made sure to steer clear of omegas of any gender, getting through your segregated schooling as well as gaining a decent job to survive.
You’ve only had romantic and platonic relationships with other alphas and betas, experiencing sex as any person would without the sub gender roles considering there were no enticing pheromones that could put you in a hypnotic trance. Omegas are naturally pretty creatures, ethereal beauties that can lure you into their traps. You despise their power. You despise your own subgender; to be so easily swayed is embarrassing.
Everything was going well until you got laid off by your job, an omegan bar replacing the building as they always do to alpha companies. It’s as if they’re trying to rid all of the alphas' abilities to live a substantial life without the help or permission of omegas. It was frustrating. You became desperate considering the lack of alpha owned businesses in your area. You had no choice but to find an omegan business that would hire you.
Unfortunately, the only job placement you’d be hired for is a maid, some kind of servant, or sex slave. So you decided to post an offer of your services, desperate for income to be able to afford your small apartment. The only response you received was to become a house maid for the sons of the omegan stars who needed a new maid. Although you’d be living in the mansion, you couldn’t pass the pay that was offered. Considering how high it was, you could live there for a few months and be able to move out on your own when you’ve made enough.
Once your bags were packed you traveled to the area in which you’d be living, passing by beautiful scenery that the alpha territories lack. Alpha areas are very dull and dim whereas the living quarters for omegans were pigmented and beautiful. Once you arrived at the mansion, you were guided by one of the beta butlers to your designated room, setting your luggage down as you were handed your uniform that consisted of black pants and a white shirt. Very plain but convenient for cleaning. Your room consists of a twin sized neatly made bed and a window, along with a desk and dresser. The room is also connected to a small bathroom.
Considering you don’t start until tomorrow, you begin to settle into your new living space, sighing once you are through. Deciding to take a shower, you set clothing to change into on your bed before heading to your shower. After you were done, you wrapped yourself in a towel before walking out of the bathroom, only to be startled by the presence in the room. You stare in shock as the blonde male eyes you as he sits on the bed in a crisscrossed position.
“U-uh can I help you?” You attempt to ask politely.
Having never been around an omega in your lifetime, you instantly could tell that an omega sits in front of you by the sweet smell radiating off of his form. A smell you’ve never had the privilege to sniff. Your body is tense, not wanting to make the wrong move as you know how unpredictable they can be. You keep your anxiety levels low considering they could smell fear a mile away. You’ve taken time to study the ‘predators’ though you’ve never seen one in person which is why you know so much.
He hops off the bed and walks toward you, staring at you with intense black eyes as he studies your form. You shift uncomfortably as you keep a hand on the towel wrapped around your figure, your skin moist from the residue water from the shower.
“You smell sweet for an alpha.” He says with his head tilted, leaning in as your eyes widen. His face stops near your neck as you hear him sniff slightly before pulling back. You wanted to reply with a smart remark but held back, not wanting to risk your life over something so petty.
“Y/n?” You nod.
“Mikey.” You already know their names, their parents are known for being famous as well as their children. You damn near grew up together through the screen, always seeing them on your timeline no matter how many times you blocked omegan accounts. There were even alpha owned accounts who were smitten over the pretty boys.
Without another word, he walks out of the bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You huff as you shut the door and lock it, although now you know the lock doesn’t really matter. Once you were dressed you went to bed and scrolled on your phone until you fell asleep. Your alarm woke you up at five in the morning, hopping out of the bed reluctantly as you did your morning routine and put your uniform on.
The head beta maid met you at your door right before six o’ clock. You noticed that she wore an actual maid’s dress and not the cheap attire you have on, not that it bothered you. She went over the rules as well as the to do list for each day. She guided you to the cleaning supplies, showing you where to find everything as well as touring the rooms, not entering the male’s rooms considering they were still asleep.
Once she left you on your lonesome, you walked into the living space, dusting the windows and wiping them down with a cloth and cleaner. You dust wipe down the lamps and the light fixtures, moving onto the baseboards and window frames. Once you turned around to continue, you were startled once more, facing two of the males who eyed you. You eye the twins, purple orbs studying you before smirks grow on their faces. Their sweet scent meets your nostrils as you stand there.
“Looks like we got a new plaything, brother.” The shorter one states, hands in his pockets with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You tense as they walk towards you. The oldest one slightly leans over.
“Did you hear about what happened to the previous alpha who worked for us?” He questions with a sly smile. You shook your head in response, curious to know though dreading the response.
“She was such a dirty pervert, spying on us while we undressed.” They slowly circled around you like predators would their prey. Your grip tightens around the dusting brush, eyebrows furrowed as you follow them with your eyes.
“She even watched us while we were in heat. There were more problems before she finally got castrated.”
Castration happens when an alpha is accused of perverted behavior. For the male the penis will get detached as well as for the female's clitoris. It’s a horrific punishment nobody wants to go through. Although there are cases where alphas broke the law and gave into their instincts in a disturbing way, a lot of the times they get falsely accused.
“You know how alphas get when they can’t contain themselves. After all, you are one of them.” Rin says before he stops in front of you along with Ran.
“Not all alphas are the same.” You rebutled with irritation. Of course they would generalize the sub gender.
“No?” Ran chuckles, “I guess we’ll see.” He says before walking away, Rin stops by the window and rubs his hand along the glass, the sound causing you to flinch as you see the smeared handprint form.
“Missed a spot.” When they exited the room, you groaned, spitting a few curses as you got ready to re-wipe the window. You had a feeling that spoiled omegans were going to be difficult.
Hours pass and it’s time to clean their bedrooms. Apparently, they should all be out at this time, working on whatever projects or endeavors they’re famous for which is why you were surprised when you walked into the spacious bedroom, and saw piercing blue eyes narrowing at you. The sweet smell contrasted with the aura of the platinum haired male.
“Get out.”
You didn’t hesitate to comply, saving the room for later and heading to the bedroom next to it. You walk into another spacious bedroom. You could hear the shower running through the door of the bathroom. You decide to rush through the already semi cleaned room so you could get it over with considering you already had another bedroom to come back to.
Tidying the spaces that needed a touch up, you pause when you hear the click of the door opening, not noticing the shower had stopped a few minutes before.
An instant sweet aroma mixed with a fresh scent fumed into your vicinity as you turned towards the male who was holding a towel around his waist. You yelp once he removes the towel, rubbing it against his hair as you turn to grab your equipment.
“Sh-! Uh… I’m sorry!” You say as you rush to the exit, only for a hand to grab your wrist. You kept your gaze down toward the door, not wanting to catch a case.
“Hey, wait. You’re Y/n, right?” He questioned with his index finger and thumb rubbing his chin. His grip only tightened when you nodded your head, gasping as he pulled you into a moist hug. Your eyes are wide as you pause in surprise, the warmth of his body radiating off of him as well as the fumes engulfing your nostrils. His arms snaked around your waist as his face nuzzled in your neck. You ignore the feeling of his limp bulge against your covered thigh. You stare at him with disbelief once he pulls back with a closed eyed smile.
“Kazutora.” He says before he turns around, towel still in hand as he walks to his walk in closet, disappearing into the smaller room. You breathe out heavily as you run out of the room, face warm as you place your hand on your chest.
You couldn’t believe how close he got to you, naked and all. How familiar he acted even though you only just met. You rub a hand over your head as you wipe off any residue shower water, your shirt slightly stained. Once you finished the other bedrooms, you pushed your anxiety to the side to knock on the scarred man’s door. When he didn’t answer after the third knock, you entered anyway. Eager to get done with cleaning for the night so you could eat dinner.
When you saw the room was empty, you began your process, unknown to the prowling eyes on you from the cracked door of the bathroom. You could smell him but you thought it was because you were in his bedroom. You jump when you hear something break. Turning around you eyed Sanzu with confusion as he stood there with his arms crossed.
“Why did you break that?” Your eyebrows furrowed.
“You know I didn’t break that.” You say, missing the glint in his eyes towards your response.
He walks over to a pillar and pushes the vase off. You gasp as you look back at him.
“You’re not a very good maid. So clumsy.” He hissed before yelling for the head maid.
“Yes!” She says when she all but runs to the doorway.
“Look at the mess your new maid has made.” He points to the broken objects. She apologizes on behalf of you before she walks to the storage room to grab a dustpan and broom. You glare at him when he glares at you.
“Such vile creatures you alphas are.” He says before walking out of the room. The head maid runs back into the room, handing you one of the brooms and a dustpan.
“Don’t take it to heart, they taunt the new alphas everytime. You just have to be careful so you don’t end up like the last maid.” She informs you.
“Didn’t she spy on them?” You question as you sweep the mess. She shakes her head.
“Oh no. She wasn’t like that. Not at all. They… well… just be careful Y/n. Try not to gain any more attention than you already have.” You pause from her vague response.
“Can you please tell me? I need to know what to look out for.” She looks up at you before sighing.
“Alright, but you didn’t hear this from me. Apparently, much like you, an alpha was hired as a maid. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to like her, not that many omegas like alphas initially. Instead of firing her, they made her job harder any chance they got. I guess they got bored of their game considering they set her up, resulting in castration and jail time.”
You gasp. You knew how omegas were but to be at such a risk was terrifying.
“There’s not really a way to dodge them once their minds are set but just try to stay in your lane and just get your job done.”
After dinner, you head to your room to shower and get in bed, searching for the old maid as you feed your fears. You fall into darkness, awaiting for a new day.
A couple weeks pass and time goes smoother than you thought. Besides a little teasing from the twins, you survived two weeks of living in this mansion. Nobody seemed to bother you thankfully. You continued to dodge the men as you completed your daily chores. Having succeeded for the two weeks you felt as though you finally had a little room to breathe. Although you weren’t bothered, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you everyday. You always ignored the feeling.
The day was finished and you went to take your routined shower, basking in the warmth of the water with your eyes closed. Once you were finished, you turned the faucet off and pulled the curtain back, screaming once you pulled it to cover you once more. Your hand trembled as your eyes were wide, the intruder’s hand gripping the curtain to pull it back as you kept it in place.
“Hey, what are you so shy for?” Kazutora questions with a chuckle.
“What are you doing in my bathroom?” You exclaim, smelling the scent he’s letting off as he fills the room. You cover your nose as you gripped the curtain harder. You yelp when you see him pulling it from the other side, snatching your towel quickly as you cover yourself and hop out of the shower.
“Well, I was bored.” He shrugged as he looked you up and down. “
“C-can you get out? Now!” You growl, frustrated with the situation as you cover your nose once more.
“Why?” His smile drops. “What’s up with the tone?”
You pass him as you walk into your bedroom, turning back to face him.
“K-Kazutora, can you please leave? Just let me change real quick.”
His smile returned, “You’re kinda cute when you’re all flustered. It’s only fair I get to see you naked since you walked in on me.”
“You know that was an accident. That’s not even how it we-. Okay, just please turn around if you’re going to stay here.” You say. He sighs before placing his hands on his hips and turning in the opposite direction.
You quickly dried your body as you frantically put your pajamas on.
“Alright, I’m done.” He turns back around to face you. “Now, what can I do for you?”
Before he answers, Mikey walks into your room as Kazutora hops on your bed. The blonde follows behind.
“What the h-! What is going on? Why are you both in my room?” You had to keep your nose covered from the aroma covering your room by the two men, as if they were scenting your room.
“For you to entertain us.” You shook your head.
“I don’t know what you want me to do so there’s nothing I can do. I have to wake up early to complete my job so…” The door opens revealing another blonde who enters your room, sitting next to Mikey as he leans his head on his shoulder, another smell adding to the fumes.
Following after him were the twins who strolled into the room, one sitting at your desk while the other sat on the dresser. You cover your nose with both hands as you eye the newcomers.
“Look, I know you all probably don’t like me and want to get rid of me like you did the other maid. I can stay in my lane and we don’t even need to cross paths.”
“Are you telling us what to do?” Rin asks in an accusatory manner. Your eyes widen as the omegans glare at you.
“No! I-I’m stating my peace! I’m just trying to work.”
“Why should alphas like you get to work? You’re nothing but breeders.” Sanzu hissed as his fumes became higher. Your face becomes warm as you begin to feel light headed.
“You’re all such weak little things. Look at you.” Ran says as he gives off more of his scent. At this point you’re beginning to see stars as you try not to lose to your instincts, fighting off the rut that’s beginning to come forth.
“What’s the matter, Y/n?” Kazutora questions with a fake look of concern, fumes adding to the rest of the scents as you could barely breathe, sweat dripping down your skin.
Mikey gazes at you quietly with narrowed eyes, studying your movement as your vision becomes blurred.
“It’s only a matter of time before you pounce, so just give in.”
You immediately dash out of the room, running down the hall to the maid’s floor as you remove your hand from your mouth, stopping in front of her door to knock frantically. She opens it, gazing at you with concern. You pant heavily as your hands are on your knees.
“They scented my room. Where else can I sleep? Fortunately with her being a beta, you both switched rooms for the night. You didn’t sleep much, too caught up with your thoughts as you couldn’t believe how you almost went into a rut just by the intense scents. You looked up different rut suppressants, ordering some over the counter after a late night trip to the nearest store. Once you took it, you were finally able to fall asleep.
Few more weeks passed and it’s finally been a month since you moved in, the suppressants helping whenever they used their scents against you. No doubt it caused frustration for the men. They made more messes as well as just being plain rude. They switched the liquid of your cleaners with juice as well as causing messes where you already cleaned. They finally left you alone when they saw none of it was working.
Thinking they gave up, you continued on with your job. Dodging them every chance you got as well as getting used to their schedules so you didn’t run into them. You kept reminding yourself that the pay was worth it until it’s time to go. If only you would’ve noticed the way some of your dirty clothes would disappear or the pairs of eyes on you while you slept. You thought the little knick knacks or random clothing that showed up mysteriously in your room was from the maid, never really having that happen before. You didn’t really know why the other maids began to distance themselves, unknown to the threats that would occur whenever they would come too close.
“Y/n, I need to talk to you.” The head maid states, pulling you to the side out of the kitchen with the chefs.
“What is it?” You ask.
“Y-you need to watch your back.” Your eyebrows furrow. They’ve been leaving you alone so you have no idea what the problem is.
“I think the guys are courting you.” Your eyes widen.
You didn’t know much about courting except that it was a way for alphas to show affection to omegans. Traditionally, not the other way around though it does happen. Omegans have only been doing so to other omegans.
“What? How? Why would they do that?”
“I’ve caught them in your room while-!” Her name was called from a distance.
“I-I’ll tell you later. Just be mindful of your surroundings.” She says before walking off. Your eyebrows furrow as you follow her figure, standing in place.
The next day, her body was found on the ground next to the mansion in a bloody puddle. It was deemed a suicide considering the open window. You mourned for your one and only friend of the house, surprised when a hand was placed on your shoulder as a way to comfort you by Mikey.
One day, your suppressants went missing, causing you to not take them for a few days because you never had time considering you would immediately go to bed after you showered when the chores were finished. Considering they stopped messing with you, the need for the suppressants went out the door. You think back to what the maid was trying to tell you from time to time, not really believing that omegas could have a crush on an alpha like you. There was no reason too, especially since they’re celebrities.
You had just finished showering and getting dressed for bed before a knock on your door echoed. When you opened the door you eyed the omegan maid in confusion.
“Come with me.” She states as she walks off, you following behind.
When you stop in front of the door, she giggles.
“You’re a very lucky alpha.” She says before she opens the door and pushes you in, shutting and locking it behind you. You fall, kneeling to the ground as you look up. Your hands cover your mouth and nose as the fumes take over, the sight in front of you causing your eyes to widen.
The sweet mix of different aromas meet your nostrils as it goes straight to your clit, the intensity of the smell overwhelming you as the air is thick with omegan heat fumes. Panting men lay on a large bed in front of you as they desperately touch themselves, loads of slick everywhere as you hear moans and whimpers.
You’ve never experienced anything like this, desperately clawing at the door as you stand up on your trembling legs. You turn around, kicking the door as you struggle with opening the knob.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Let me out, please!” You realized you’ve been set up, now afraid of castration as you try to keep yourself under control.
“Alpha?” Your breath hitched at the soft voice. Now that you’ve been noticed, you repeatedly kick the door harder as you try to break out.
The scents thicken as you avoid turning around, too scared to eye the vulnerable men. Your head hits the door as tears fall out, sliding down on your knees as you try to keep it together. You jump when a wet hand touches your jaw, forcing you to look into dark eyes.
You tense as you smell the residue slick against your face, tightening the grip over your nose and mouth as the fumes become stronger from Mikey’s closeness. He uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears as he pants, face red with sweat wetting his hair.
“Stop crying.” You want to move his hands away from you and try to break the door down, but if you move your hands you will surely go into a rut.
You hear a moan coming from the bed, the scarred man fingering himself fast as you could hear the squelching of his wet anus.
“Touch me, Alpha!” He demands with his head fallen back. You bite your lip under your hands, pressing yourself against the door as you smell Sanzu’s fumes become stronger, an attempt at luring you in. It almost works, his voice going straight to your core causing an ache to form.
A pain forming from kneeling, you plant your bottom on the floor, preparing to cover your whole face until Mikey pushes his body in between your legs, his hands grabbing your wrists as leans over to your ear.
“I want you to mark me, alpha.”
You shift your gaze to the loud moan coming from the bed, Kazutora face down, ass up with his head looking behind toward you. His heavy lidded eyes are feral as he stares at you, fingers engulfed in his hole as he tugs his hard on, milking his cock as you watch the slick drip on the bed that you now notice has some of your clothes.
You turn your gaze to Ran who is gazing at you while sitting on the bed, rubbing his cock as he bucks his hips, panting with an aroused expression. You could smell all of them from where you sat. Rin kneels in front of you as he hugs your waist before picking you up, carrying you to the bed as you struggle against his grip, tossing you in the middle as you're surrounded by the men in heat.
You shut your eyes tightly, your hands being ripped from your nose and mouth by him.
“You’re taking too long.” He hissed before he pinned your wrists above your head.
“Stop! You don’t want this!” You yell as your shirt is torn by Sanzu, your pants being tugged down by Mikey.
“Please! I don’t want to be castrated or binded!” You exclaim, tears falling as you feel your rut being triggered by all of the overwhelming fumes.
Two palms grab your face from behind as you gaze above you with teary eyes, residue slick from his hands rubbing against your face.
“We’ll protect you, alpha.” Kazutora gives a dazed smile before his lips meet yours, your eyes wide as his neck blocks your view. The color in your eyes dim as you fight off the rut to the best of your abilities, the instincts taking over as your pupils dilate.
Once Kazutora pulls back, you gasp at the feeling of a thick girth entering your pussy. Glazed over purple eyes stare down at you while his hips pull back before shoving back into you. Ran leans over as one of his hands reaches behind your neck as his face nuzzles on the opposite side.
“I couldn’t wait, alpha. S’ fucking good.” He rutts inside of you, not bothering to go slow as you grunt and moan, eyes shutting closed tightly. His beautiful moans reach your ear as well as the other omegans who were touching themselves by the heated sight, waiting their turn. Kazutora and Rin grab your hands, circling your fingers around their cocks as they thrust desperately against your hands.
After a while, Ran pulls out of you, picking you up before you are turned over on all fours. Sanzu positioned himself under you as he forced you to drop on his cock. Ran’s wet cock easing into your ass as it stretches, the slick on him making it less painful. They both release moans as they buck their hips. You pant against Sanzu’s neck, trying not to lose it.
“Bite me. Make me yours alpha.” Sanzu says against your ear as he moves your hand to wrap it around his throat. Your fangs come out, biting your lip to prevent yourself from tying any bonds no matter how tempted you were to do it. Blood drips on his shoulder from your lip as they accelerate their speed.
Your hand grips his neck causing him to moan out your name. You curse as your body rocks in between them, both men going harder as the slick oozes out of your holes.
“God, you want it so bad Y/n. I can smell it from you.” Kazutora groans as his head falls back, his hand tugging his erection as he breathes heavily. Mikey shifts to kneeling beside your face.
“His neck is bare for you. How could you pass the opportunity for such a pretty omega?” You whimper against Sanzu’s skin, whispering, “Fuck!”
“I’ll be so good for you, alpha.”
“Please!” You beg for them to stop with their words.
“Come on, Y/n. We’re giving you permission.” Rin breathes out as he rubs his wet cock. Finally, your eyes darken, panting, you insert your fangs into Sanzu’s neck, drawing out a loud whine from him.
“Yes, alpha!”
By the end of their assault, you had ended up losing your senses to your rut, marking each of their necks as they all pounded into you. You were knocked out, lying in the bed full of nests made by your own clothes mixed in with theirs. You were scented as you breathed heavily stuck in a deep slumber. They are bound to you forever as you are to them. Your position as a maid was dropped now that you are living with them for good. Your worst nightmare came true and now you’re stuck to be the omegan’s alpha. Your own freedom has been ripped from you, though at least you weren’t castrated.
#yandere tokyo revengers#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev x you#sano mikey manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#manjiro x you#kazutora hanemiya#kazutora x reader#kazutora x you#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu x reader#sanzu x you#ran haitani#ran x reader#ran x you#rin haitani#rin x reader#rin x you#omegaverse#omegaverse au#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o verse#celebrity au#celebrities#a/b/o au
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𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 | 𝐰. 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟
summary: to get what she wants Wanda will do anything - including hurting you.
warnings (18+): smut, strap-on sex (r receiving), non-con, a bit of dacryphilia, breeding kink, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, manipulation, heavy angst. MINORS DNI.
pairing: Wanda x fem!reader
word count: 3k
masterlist|
(please, don't flag the work)
༺ᱬ༻
At dawn, gray and foggy, the bitter winter temperature would arduously exceed the limitations of common sense degrees demarcated by popular thermometers.
The vehement peak of the serene dawn, as placid and peaceful as it ever was to be, had been swallowed up by a broad blanket of white, chaste snow; blizzard which had interspersed, crossing from north to south along the entire longitudinal extent of the ten thousand hectares located near the tiny town of Westview, New Jersey. You weren't born in there and, in fact, you barely knew that place at all.
The whiteness of sprays of snow in flakes of polished ice continued to crumble through the openings of the dense clouds, and a pale veil of frost took more and more possession of the tiles above the roofs and the tops of the enormities of the hills around the town, inferring a white and crystalline color.
You retained your own private assumptions about the phenomenon, however, and attributed it to increasingly distressing global warming (come on now Tony Stark, you could very well reverse global warming if you really wanted to!). But maybe you still held such a mundane concern at your core just to keep a sober dose of normality within you, and not give in to the long chants of long lonely days, as maddening as they could be.
The days that had passed gradually slipped one over the other, consubstantiating, consolidating into a single amalgam, and you no longer knew what to do to ward off the acute boredom that was consuming your nerves little by little like an autoimmune disease – there was no book to read or movie to watch that would wriggle your soul out of the lonely corners of a world you'd been segregated into, walls slowly closing in around you one by one. You were alone. Utterly alone.
Through the dim glass of the wide window of your solitary room, you gazed, with your gaze watered by the apathy that is intrinsically sprinkled in your irises and sluggish limbs and heavy in your joints like lead, the occluded sky of dawn – the few gloomy trees raised in the neighborhood surroundings like fortresses of dark, thick foliage, swaying on their own axes as the constant wind dictated outside their painted plaster walls.
With a sliver of fresh skin on your right temple pressed against the cloudy glass, so cold to the touch, your dead eyes followed the willow tree of snow outside as if it were natural, as if it was common to snow at that time of year and as if she wasn't using the situation to her whim, wherever she was at that moment, as much as she was everywhere at the same time.
Right, screw global warming. You were living like a little snowman cloistered inside your own particular snow globe – free from your point of view, but trapped inside the dome.
The truth was that Westview was a huge board full of pieces all situated in their proper squares, the vast majority composed of pawns as maneuverable and disposable as they could be, endlessly, always ready to be used and discarded and then replaced – and you were the queen of them, the most important piece to be cherished, but like everyone else, at your core, you would be just another component part of the grand scheme that Wanda Maximoff ruled with an iron fist. One wrong step and you were out, checkmate.
In a time that then sounded remote, an echo of a dream derived from a memory already forgotten, perhaps seven or eight months ago (you only calculated the passage of time by the gradual expansion of your belly, which then encompassed a larger roundness than a basketball), you were free. You were young and you were free and the world was a little less terrible than it could be.
But Wanda had kidnapped so much of you, in fact, disfigured you into a bizarre parody, a grim reflection of who you once were – but of your own free will you gladdened to the end in an elan worthy of praise, in the greatest pose of a soldier who is willing to kill and die for the glory of your people, despite the notion that you were fighting a vain, lost battle.
At the end of the day you were still her possession to be used and abused however Wanda saw fit. She saw everything, and everything she controlled.
You were nothing but a poor college student, still so full of spirit, and your captor was an esoteric entity versed in superhuman capabilities, the wielder of celestial powers who, according to herself, was also a multidimensional traveler – whatever meaning it held, or at least what she meant by such an eccentric statement as that.
All you knew was the things she could do and undo with a simple, banal hand movement, and how it affected you.
The fact was that you were alone, isolated, confined to an unknown town where escape was infeasible and outside contact was nothing short of scarce, subject to the pleasures, daydreams, paranoia and whims of a woman deeply troubled by her own inner demons, that you supposedly hated, but couldn't get away from even if you wanted to. Not when she was growing on you like a parasite, literally and figuratively speaking.
It was clear as the snow outside – conceiving Wanda's offspring in your womb (albeit at odds with your own individual desires at first, but attempts to shed such a burden proved, at first, flatly flawed and highly unnerving to Wanda's exhausted mind, who wasn't used to being a very reasonable person), whom she held so dear, there would be no way to nurture a flame of hatred for that woman that would not be extinguished quickly; no matter how little you knew about her for as long as your pregnancy lasted, Wanda's humanity, so disparate from the morbid cruelty at the bottom of those abyssal green irises, resided in the bosom of motherhood for which she cherished so much.
In the intimate caresses exchanged between her gentle blackened fingertips and your swollen belly, there was a kind of love so subtle and genuine that it almost erased from your memory the fact that you didn't want to be there in the first place. Her contact with that embryo was covered by a lapse of vulnerability, and that's why that witch once proved to have been as human as you were.
At a certain point, goodness was already given for those intentions, when there was not a shadow in her very existence. Deep down you just knew she was good. But it was no use if kindness was eclipsed by a haze of cruelty.
The faint gleam of her smile was enchanting, and the jadish irises were drowned in waves of tears that pooled behind long, thick dark lashes, right at the waterline of the one who so affectionately gazed at your belly by her rotten right fingers. At some point, you knew, you just knew that Wanda had given as much love to the world as she had to the unwanted child in your womb. You wondered what it was that had stolen Wanda's innocence so voraciously that, in the end, she ended up stealing yours too.
“Twins,” in one night she came, and Wanda had smiled at the utterance of her own words, never breaking her gaze from the skin stretched just below your navel, “My boys.”
Her touch felt cold, plastered like a corpse's hand. Everything about Wanda was somewhat cadaverous, reminiscent of the dead – although a veil of purity always overshadowed her dying features (for that witch was indeed beautiful), the dark, sharp circles under her eyes and the deep fleshed cheeks made her a spectral creature, unreal, with the waxy pale skin that so accentuated those emerald eyes that squandered a nuance of intense feeling.
You were never quite sure how to pinpoint what was going on inside her mind, although she always expressed that there was something there to look for.
“How,” you muttered with your eyes focused on anything but her, your shirt pulled up to expose your swollen stomach, not a smile found on your lips' commission to reflect that woman's.
The situation in which everything of the last few months had culminated in your stomach was in knots – the idea that it was done, and now you had nowhere to run from her.
“How can you be so sure, Wanda? Twin boys... that's a pretty... specific guess, I think. It could just be a boy, it could be a girl,” in the room lit by the orange flames of a fireplace that turned Wanda's hair as red as blood, you blinked, “It could be anything.”
“I just know,” lisped the woman who owned the long auburn locks that fell below her breasts, sketching a ghost of a vaguely nostalgic smile on her well-shaped lips, like someone wistfully remembering something that is gone and will never come back.
“I… just know it's them. My… our boys.”
There was a brief pause interspersed by the crackling fire in the dry wood, a breath held within bristling lungs.
“Thank you, Y/n.”
Your eyes finally turned to Wanda, who was crouched in front of you. She looked at you in gleaming green like she did the first time she made you bleed, when she emptied herself inside you, condemning you to that sick moment of intimacy with her.
“I know you don't understand this right now, not this version of you at least, but,” her jaw moved slightly, speaking at length in her speech, as if she were speaking like a child, seeking to express clarity. As if she had to plan her words carefully.
“I love you, детка . Everything I've done so far is because I love you, Y/n. You and our boys, our family. Everything I did was for you. I hope one day you can understand that and forgive me for what I did.”
Your eyes stung and sickly bile rose to the surface of your tongue at that controversial statement of hers. She knew it was wrong, she was fully aware of it. You could never imagine that whatever resulted from that one-sided relationship between the two of you could fall under the nominations commonly associated with the definition of “a family” .
You already had a family to call your own and belong to, a father and mother and siblings too, and from them you were usurped by her. That couldn't be a family, not that relationship structure, not you and her. Not when you weren't even twenty and barely even aware of what, say, Wanda's last name would be.
That night you cried yourself to sleep. And, like every night before that, Wanda listened until you fell into the softness of your own sleep clouded by layers of thick, salty tears.
But the warm, abstruse sweetness behind Wanda's hideous facade made her as seductive as the apple would have been to Eve, and the fragility that rarely saw the light of day made her seem so small compared to the times you feared for your life as she chained her hands behind your back and sternly brought her hips to meet yours over and over again.
You've also heard her cry before going to sleep. It just so happens that she was the one making you suffer, while you just had to put up with her external suffering.
Wanda was a complex puzzle to understand, so fluctuating, fascinating and unpleasant at the same time, like a new flavor to try, bad at first, but then becoming dangerously charming to the palate. And you didn't know whether you wanted to put those pieces together into one uniform image, or throw them in the trash and close the lid.
In fact, if traced back to the beginnings of your gloomy model of relationship (at least in the most primitive sense of the word, summarized only to the exchange of physical touches between two controversial animals, to, moreover, the imposition of physical contact from one part to the other), it was as if Wanda saw what she solemnly did to you as an artifice, a mechanism, a forced method to an end you never chose to have. It was as if she was just performing a necessary sacrifice that justified the means she chose to use.
She apologized again and again because that inside of you stung and hurt when she ripped something inside you, and she worked hard to make you like it too, even though you barely knew her at the time, and in fact just waking up from the stillness of your sleep to the uncomfortable feeling of a foreign body on top of you, with your legs spread wide and streams of fresh crimson blood dishonoring the sheets down your thighs, ripping you in half like no one before her had ever done.
“Shh, it's okay Y/n, it's okay. It's okay, you’re okay детка.”
She lisped that night with the palm of her right hand screwed to your lips, stuffing your protests behind your teeth (scorched-tipped fingers sweeping strands of your hair behind the shell of your ear, Wanda in a red tiara looking like would cry as much as you already did). The first time you saw her, that strange woman invading your room and also you, she seemed as uncomfortable with what she was doing as you felt with her tucked inside your innocence.
“I know it hurts, baby, I know, I…” Green eyes then pulled away from your face contorted in sharp pain, as if, for half a second, she couldn't even look at you in that state. As if, in your room, she would burst into tears with you.
“I'm very sorry. I'm really, really sorry детка , but I have to do this. It’ll pass, alright? Will pass. It’ll fit, we'll make it fit, okay? Just take a deep breath. This will be quick, I promise. I,” Wanda choked on her own words, “I'm so sorry, Y/n.”
And it went on for quite a few sluggish minutes – the headboard hitting the wall rhythmically, hard and slow behind your head, your white cotton underwear crumpled and discarded at the foot of your bed, your eyes focused on how much the sharp points of that scarlet tiara that seemed to protrude from the top of her skull resembled two demonic horns as they rose and fell in the dark of your room, above you.
When your conscience woke up, the very next morning and in a room you were not at all familiar with, the wet pain between your legs was the final sentence given that you were already her property. And you tried to run away, wander the streets of Westview, cry out for help from your new assigned neighbors, but they were smiling like machines, nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong.
And the visits continued, scheduled for sunset; the fall of the veil of night was the apogee of your fate – in that house with dismal walls, dark shadows lightened by the tongues of fire that burned in the hearth, Wanda came in the form of that crimson specter to do what she had to do. And time had washed the regrets from her soul, when did the pleasures of the flesh begin to burn hotter on her skin.
“Dерьмо,” Wanda anathematized one night in a sigh under her breath, moaning in a thick accent in the roof of her mouth as she stood behind you, blackened fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips as hers pierced into yours.
“Dетка, you feel so good, s-so good, Y/n...” she gasped, your white-knuckled fingers screwed to the sheets moving beneath you both, “Fuck, I missed you so bad...”
“I-it hurts,” you squealed beneath her, your right cheek rubbing against your pillowcase, your teeth clenched, your jaw set, “W-Wanda, Wanda wait– go slow, you're– you're hurting me, Wanda, please slow down–”
“I'm going to come,” she suddenly announced, indifferent to your protests, “Fuck, I'm going to come inside you, Y/n.”
The cognition of such a sentence haunted the nerves of your spine. At that point, you already had basic knowledge accumulated about her – she was called Wanda Maximoff, she was from another universe and, as a factor of greater relevance to emphasize, she was capable of performing and handling magic, something that for you, until that moment at the time, was nothing more than a fictitious topic. And, if she was qualified to run an entire city on her own, she might well be able to turn something as frivolous as coming inside you with a fake phallus into a permanent action and one fraught with the most undesirable consequences.
“No-!” you immediately chafed then, trying to crawl your body away from hers on the bed sheets, “Wanda, don't– don't do that– Wanda–!”
But with a pull and a jerk she held you steady, your hips up, ribbons of scarlet energy restraining your wrists bound to the bed, just to the side of both your temples. And the notion that you couldn't even move caused warm tears to pool in the waterline of your eyes, clouding your view of the raised wall to the left of the double bed located in the heart of that partially lit room by the dull bulb of a bedside lamp.
“Hold still, детка, I-I'm almost,” she growled, her hips hammering against yours in essentially violent movements, “Almost there–!”
“No, pull out,” you whimpered, “Wanda, pull out, don't do that, don't do that, Wanda– Wanda, please–!”
“I need to do this Y/n, I fucking need to–!”
“Wanda, please–!”
She didn't pull out. She never pulled out – the point was not to pull out, it was that she emptied herself inside you, painted your insides with that magical secretion that only a few weeks later proved to be appropriate for the purpose Wanda had in mind. And she didn't touch you anymore, not that way, when her goal was achieved – with the plan completed, all she had to do was wait for your organism to do what it had to do. And so the months passed, snow fell on that simulated dome. Her visits weren't as frequent anymore.
“Why me?” you asked her once, as she stroked your belly through your thick crimson wool sweater.
Crouched down in front of the couch, Wanda raised her eyes to you like she always did when she was trying to communicate with the child she had shoved inside you.
“Because I love you,” was her answer, of course. A wave of ominous disgust twisted your insides at that oblivious response, as if Wanda were genuinely alienated from the reality of where she was your captor and aggressor.
“You barely know me, Wanda,” you spat, “And I barely know you. This isn't love, you're using me like a fucking incubator. You’re sick and you fucking know it.”
She lowered her head in front of your prickly speech, a lock of reddish hair piercing an emerald iris of hers, while Wanda's left fingers, dark as pitch, kept stroking your belly through a layer of clothing. She compressed her lips into a long line, and you held your breath. From your point of view, Wanda, stripped of that crimson armor she always wore and then tucked into casual clothes, sweatpants and a sweater as thick as your own, looked small and confused like a child, a little girl.
“You used to know me,” she muttered quietly, “Where I come from, you used to know me. We were married. We had our boys. You... for as long as it took in Westview after I had you back again, you were my world after I lost everything.”
You blinked once.
“Westview?”
She looked at you again.
“Yes, Y/n. Westview. They took you from me, more than once. But the second time they took our boys too. So I,” there was a pause in her speech, “I had to look for you in another reality. In a reality where nothing could ever get out of my control again.”
And for half a second you looked back at her.
“Wanda,” the palm of your right hand slowly snuggled against her left cheek, which approached your touch in an almost pathetic neediness, when was it that you looked into her eyes, “You’ll never have control over me, no matter how hard you try.”
She closed her eyes as a tear trickled down her cheek.
“I know.”
When the twins were born, you didn't want to hold them. And, begrudgingly, Wanda understood. She understood that she could never have you, not after what she had done to you, but to her consolation at least there were those boys left for her.
And she had been benevolent in letting you go, as if she had released a bird from its caged captivity, erasing from your memory any and all discernment of what your relationship had been like for ten months or so, abstracting from the confines of your mind the idea of how much she had harmed you by excluding herself from your memory. You went back to your old life, and she started a new one.
Time has come and gone. You had no sense of the past, and no one in your social circle even seemed to notice your absence for nearly a full year – it was like a dream, a memory, a lie. A kind of collective amnesia. You moved out of your parents' home after graduation and obtained a steady job in your field of work. And, after a while, you decided that it might be good to share your life with a second person – soon enough, a relationship blossomed between you and a dark-haired woman you met during a snowy winter day in a coffee shop.
Your girlfriend was a few years older than you and a single mom, but it turns out you got along great with her kids, and she was the best partner anyone could ask for. And when, on a warm summer day in the city park, Wanda offered you a strawberry ice cream cone right after presenting Billy and Tommy with their respective favorite flavors each, you genuinely smiled at her.
“Thanks, baby,” and then, you kissed her on the cheek. Billy asked Tommy to play tag, and the older twin accepted.
Wanda smiled at you. She smiled at you as if she didn't know how much she had already hurt you. “You’re welcome, детка.”
#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda reader#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff imagine#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x y/n#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x female reader#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#fanfic
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Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Ten: Little White Dress
Relationship: Astarion X Tav
Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.
Summary: All hell breaks lose as Tav and Astarion share with the rest of the party that you are expecting.
~~~~This Chapter contains Smut~~~~
Master List
People who wished to be tagged: @ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21
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Twelve weeks pregnant
“I knew it! I knew something was up with the two of you!” Shadowheart was practically out of her seat as she spoke. “I just didn’t know it was his. I thought the two of you just got a segregate or something.”
“We're going to be an aunt and Uncle Wyll, isn’t it amazing!” Karlach released the hold she had on herself and let her excitement spring free. Shaking Wyll like he was a rag doll.
“Yes, that is amazing, Karlach dear, but could you stop shaking me? I fear I’m going to be sick.” At his words, Karlach stopped shaking him, and he placed one hand on the table and one on his stomach to try and stop the room from spinning.
“That…That’s amazing, you two.” Gale looked positively shocked. “I just have a few questions, if you don’t mind.” The others nodded in unison.
After what seemed like hours of being questioned by your friends, the food was finally served. Gale had spared no expense for the meal, crafting each dish so that everyone had what they wanted and what they would enjoy the most. You sliced into a relatively rare steak and watched as the red blood covered your plate, causing you to salivate. Your pregnancy cravings had two settings, sweet and bloody; there was no in-between.
When you took a rather large bite, Gale started to ask more questions. He was always searching for knowledge, and the topic of vampire children was something that was yet to be covered majorly. It felt like he was entirely too interested and asking far too many questions so he could publish a book on the topic and be credited as the one who found out how it was done.
“Tell me again, how exactly did you manage this astounding feat?” Gale had a large glass of red wine beside him and began slicing into his own dinner that you had no doubt paired nicely with his steak.
“When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they…” Astarion spoke for you while your mouth was full of meat and blood.
“Asatrion, I know how sex works. What I want to know is how her fey blood allowed your seed to impregnate her.” Gale looked at Astarion, not too pleased to be getting a talking to about the birds and the bees.
“We don’t know, maybe since he’s also technically still a high elf, my ovaries allowed it.” You said after you swallowed your mouth full of steak. “What we do know is I’m pregnant, it's his, and I’m a walking miracle.”
“I can see why you kept this a secret. There’s no telling what would happen if people found out what you were carrying.”Glae took a small bite of his food.
“What do you mean?” You placed your knife and fork on your plate.
“I only mean that vampires aren’t people's cup of tea usually. And there's a reason why there is not a lot of knowledge about half vampire half humanoid children….” Gale hesitated, not wanting to go on.
“And why is that?” Astarion stared at Gale, a challenge in them.
“They’re hailed as being unholy abominations and killed…” Gale looked down at his plate, not wanting to meet yours or Astarion’s eyes.
“We won’t let that happen! Aunty K and Uncle Wyll will not let that happen.” Karlach slammed her fist on the table.
“No, we will not.” Wyll echoed his wife's sentiment. “We will just have to keep the fact that they are Half-vampires a secret. How is it that people normally find out the parentage?”
“Other vampires, usually it’s almost as if they can smell it.” They all looked at Astarion.
“We can. There’s a particular odor that goes with the undead. I hide mine because I can’t stand the smell.” Astarion looked at you, noting the color that had drained from your face. “We can do the same for our child, dear.”
You reached for Astarion’s hand under the table, and he did the same. This opened up a whole new fear. Maybe if you moved out of the city, that would lessen your chances of being discovered. Though, as far as you knew, the last vampire to grace the city was Cazador, and since then, it had just been Astarion these last fifty years. He never mentioned smelling another vampire.
“There hasn’t been another vampire in Baldur’s gate since Cazador… right?” You looked at Astarion.
“No, I don’t know why usually there is always a vampire lord in a large city. Maybe they are afraid after what happened to the last one.” You saw his eyes glaze over, going a thousand realms away, and squeezed slightly. He returned the squeeze, gently glancing at you sideways and sending you a small smile.
“What about the rest of the population?” Shadowheart spoke up. “Are they going to be a threat?”
“Astarion walks around, and normal people can’t tell he’s a vampire… Well, unless they look at his teeth.” Gale said as he tilted his head.
Astarion flashed him his best shit-eating grin.”It took you all days before you realized, and it was only because this one woke up and caught me.” He gestured towards you.
“Then we should be fine. They probably won’t have long fangs like Astarion, and we’ll teach them not to go around biting people unless they deserve it.” You picked up your glass of blood and blueberry juice and took a long swallow. The blood and juice mixture coating your tongue and filled your belly.
“I should have known you weren’t drinking wine this whole time.” Shadowheart picked up her own glass. “I can smell the blood from here.”
“Yeah, all the signs were there, but at the time, none of you knew Astarion had it in him to knock me up.” You smiled at Astarion as he glared at you.
“I was always more than capable. I just didn’t know I could, and if I did, I would have been trying a lot harder to do so all these years.” He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed the ring that he had placed on your finger earlier that day.
You felt your face grow hot as you thought about all the ways he would prove that to be true. Every night, a different position, and every night, you would scream his name in ecstasy. Astarion could sense your arousal and mouthed one word in response. Later.
“You two are disgusting.” Shadowheart took a long drink of her wine.
“And you’re just jealous you don’t have someone to make love to.” Astarion’s eyes didn��t break from yours. “This child will be loved and protected. I can promise you that no one will harm them or you for as long as I still draw breath.”
“Fuck.” You cursed as his decoration of love and devotion to you and your child only stoked the fire growing in you more.
The others looked away, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but where they were now.
“If the two of you are going to…. I gave you a private room for a reason… Please use it.” Gale pushed his plate away.
“Oh, we’ve already broken in the room, Gale.” Astarion stood up slowly. “One thing you can write about if you are going to publish a book about vampire humanoid babies is that the hormones the mate gives off are simply irresistible.”
“Don’t call me your mate; that's creepy and weird.” You stood along with him. “We’re not animals.”
“No but we Certainly act like we are in heat.”
Astarion extended his hand to you, and taking it, he led you towards the stairs. You twisted your fingers in with his, creating a weave that even Mystra couldn’t untangle. The hormones racing through you felt as if someone had placed a lust curse on you. Every inch of you buzzed with the need to have Astarion touch you, taste you and have him fill you.
“See you all in the morning. Don’t wait up.” Astarion said as he moved up the stairs towards your room.
You and Astarion made your way toward the room that neither one of you would be leaving the rest of the night. Reaching the stairs, you slowly made your accent, the wetness between your legs growing slicker as you thought about everything you wanted him to do to you. Astarion looked at you sidelong, and you saw that he was doing the same. You peered down to see his length straining against his pants.
“Don’t you wish you could not wear pants to Astarion?” You turned your focus back to traversing the stairs, your legs growing weak from your thoughts.
“I’m not sure the others would have liked me coming down for dinner in nothing but what the gods gave me.” He said as you made it to the top of the stairs just down the hall from your room.
“Probably not.” You turned the corner, now entirely out of sight from the others. “But maybe n…”
You were cut off as Astarion pinned you against the wall, his body flush against yours. his erection pushing into you. You moaned as his lips collided with yours, and his tongue entered your mouth. doing a full sweep of the area before pulling out and biting your lower lip. He let go and looked at you hungrily.
“Gods, you smell delicious, my love.” His teeth moved down to your neck but paused just short of taking a bite. “And you tasted divine earlier.”
You could feel his fangs on your neck just above your skin, primed and ready to sink in if only you asked. You turned your head to the side to give him a better angle. He still hesitated. His hot breath came out in short bursts on your neck, and you could sense his animalistic need to feed.
“Is it because you bit me earlier? Is that why you won’t bite me now.” You pulled back, no longer feeling his teeth or breath on your neck. Placing your hand on the side of his face, you forced him to look at you. His eyes were dilated. “What if I feed from you first?”
“That would work.” He turned his neck towards you, giving you the left side of his neck. The one you bit a few weeks prior.
“Not out here.” You grabbed his hand once again and led him to your room, shutting the door behind you and locking it.
Astarion stood in the middle of the room, looking at you in anticipation. You stared back at him, not knowing what to do. The last time, it was rough and full of need. This time, you wanted it to be a little different.
You pulled off your dress, exposing your body to him, not breaking eye contact, but for the split moment, the gown went over your eyes. Astarion drank you in, looking up and down as he took in your naked form. He moved to touch you, and you put your hand up.
“You too, Astarion. Get naked.”
Astarion gave you a cheeky smile as he pulled off his doublet, then his shirt, boots, and then his pants, making sure that they would be last. His length sprang free, and you felt yourself grow even hotter as you drank in his form. He did an added spin for good measure, letting you see all of him.
“If our child has half of both our good looks, then they’re going to have an easy life.”Astarion’s fingers shook as he spoke. He longed to touch you but waited for you all the same.
“Sit down on the bed, Astarion.” He did as you asked.
You walked over and sat on his lap, your button sitting between his legs so that both your legs were hanging over his right leg. You kissed just under his left jawline, and you felt his length stiffen more as it sat against your leg. You trailed light kisses down to his neck just by his jugular, paying extra attention to that area.
“Are you teasing me, or have you lost your nerve to bite me?” Astarion sounded out of breath.
“Patients Astarion.” You placed your teeth on his skin like had done to you earlier when he was fighting his instincts to bite you. “Good things come to those who wait.”
At that, you sunk your teeth in, breaking the skin and feeling his hot blood enter your mouth. He flung his head back and moaned as your tongue probed and sucked the holes you made in his skin. You sucked until you couldn’t taste his blood anymore on your tongue, pulling away from his skin with a pop.
Astarion moved his head to look at you. This was only the second time you had bitten him, and from the look on his face, it would not be the last. He grabbed and twisted you so that you now laid on the bed with your legs between his and them hanging slightly off the bed. He placed a hard, needy kiss against your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth once more.
“The taste of me on your tongue is something I want to taste every day, my love.” He broke the kiss. “And it’s time I returned the favor.
He moved to your neck, wasting no time as he sunk his fangs into your skin. You gasped, Since being pregnant, this is one thing that you missed the most. The feeling of his fangs in you as he sucked blood from your veins was simply erotic, and you could see why there were so many erotic novels about vampires.
You reached your hand down to find his hard length, taking it in your hand and pumping it slowly. Astarion moaned into your neck as he sucked more of your blood out and into him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and used your hand to place him at your entrance. Arching your hips slightly, he slid into you, and Astarion gasped, pulling away from your neck.
“Don’t stop.” You said as you angled your neck to give him a better angle. “Feed and Fuck Astarion.”
“Gods, I love you.”
Astarion’s fangs sunk back into your neck and, as he did, started a slow, lazy thrust of his hips in and out of you. The feeling of his fangs in you, taking your blood, and the feeling of his length taking his pleasure sent you close to the edge. You moaned his name as his slow, lazy thrusts turned into harder, needier thrusts.
He pulled his fangs from your neck, not waiting to drink too much, just taking as much as you took from him. Astarion hooked his hands under your knees, allowing you to rest them as he thrusted into you harder. Pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into you. You moved your hand to your now swollen and sensitive clit, rubbing circles and allowing your climax to grow faster.
You looked at the holes you made in his neck and thought about the hole in yours that would match the thought pushing you over the edge of your climax. As you moaned, his name Astarion soon followed after the mix of you tightening around him and his name on your lips being too much for him to contain himself. You felt him fill you fully as he still thrusted his length inside you, milking his own orgasm to completion.
“We should definitely get into the practice of trying to make children,” Astarion said as he leaned down to kiss you. “I have never seen you so aroused.”
He placed a hard kiss on your lips. “I agree; how many do you want? three ? four?Though it took us fifty years to conceive this one.”
This child was a miracle in itself; truth be told, you weren’t sure Astarion and yourself could handle more than one child. Let alone this one.
“True.“ He was grinning ear to ear. “But we can sure try.”
#Astarion#astarion dad#astarion smut#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#astarion x female reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x tav#astarion x you#bg3#bg3 astarion#baldurs gate astarion#baldur’s gate astarion#astarion bg3#baldur’s gate fanfiction#fanfic#astarion fanfic#smut#fluff#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#ao3 author#my fic
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Listen to sex workers, except for the ones who criticize prostitution and the sex trade and openly describe the trauma caused by their exploitation - they just weren't a right fit for the job.
Listen to the biologists, psychologists, and neurologists, except for the ones who publish credible studies against the idea of brain sex and remark that, actually, a person cannot change their sex - there still exists alternative facts.
Listen to gay and lesbian people, except for the ones who refuse to have sex with trans people, dislike being amorphously referred to as "queer" or find it retraumatizing, and argue that sexual orientation pertains to sex and not gender identity - they're just genital fetishists and sexual predators.
Listen to trans people and gender dysphoric people, except for the ones who don't believe that identifying as something really makes someone something, that sex can't be changed, and that pronoun use determines identity - they have internalized transphobia.
Listen to women, except for the ones who don't believe that "woman" is just a social category and that oppression and discrimination on the axis of biological sex exists - they're just terfs and similar to Nazis.
Listen to intersex people, except for the ones who prefer the term "person with a disorder of sex development", are bothered by dyadic trans people co-opting terminology such as AFAB/AMAB, and speak out against trans surgeries and HRT being done to kids - they're just extremists.
Listen to gender nonconforming people, except for the ones who maintain that their style, nonconforming mannerisms, and/or same-sex attraction does not mean they're not their sex. They're just eggs, they'll turn into trans people soon.
Listen to Latino people, except for the ones who speak out against "Latinx" being coined as a term and a reflection of Euro-American colonialism - they're just traditionalists.
Listen to black people, except for the ones who take issue with "blacklivesmatter" being consistently refocused to "black trans lives matter", consider the argument that female sex-segregated spaces are akin to Jim Crow Laws as racist, and point out that trans murder rates - in which most of these murdered people are people of color - are being used by mostly white trans-identifying male people in arguments for self-serving intentions. They're just transphobic.
Listen to Native people, except for the ones who indicate that "two spirit" doesn't mean what white trans people think it means and worry about Euro-American colonialism further appropriating their culture and language - they're just a minority and are behind the times.
Listen to Jewish people, except the ones who continuously stress that comparing the disagreement with gender ideology to Naziism and genocide is deeply disrespectful, often anti-semitic, and minimizes the experiences of victims of genocide and their families. They're probably not even Jewish.
Listen to Marxists and feminists, except for the ones who point out that female people are treated as a reproductive and sexual resource based upon sex. They're transphobic.
Listen to intersectional feminists, except for the ones who point out that intersectionality that isn't female-focused isn't feminism. They're just terfs.
Don't listen to desisters/detransitioners, except for the ones who maintain the narrative that receiving SRS or HRT did no harm to them or that they're desisting due to 'gender affirming care' working for them. The rest were just cis people in denial of their own gender identity.
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