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ridingthatd · 4 months

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◕◔ RYOMEN TWINS I

◔◕ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, twins breeding you, possessive, kinky asf part 1

the ryomen twins were known around the whole kingdom- more like they were feared by the whole kingdom, they hold a power no one could compare to, no one as much as dares to make eye contact with them- fearing for their life, they could destroy an entire nation just by lifting a finger- and nobody want to experience the agony of disobeying or displeasing them in anyway.

even though the twins look identically alike- they're the complete opposite of each other, after working for such a long time for them- the longest anyone worked under them without "suddenly" dying or got brutally killed. you learned to tell the difference between them.

sukuna ryomen. such a heartless man, who you can barely get a reaction out of- at first you always thought how can someone be so psychotic, how can someone hold so much evil in them, but you learned to accept it by time, you learned to live with seeing him take a bath- soaking in a solution of cursed energy formed from crushing and straining venemous creatures.

sukuna ryomen. was rough with the way he treated you, rough in a way he wouldn't care to ask about your opinion or care to open his mouth and tell you what he pleased- he would simply harshly pick you up by his lower four arms, make you sit uncomfortably with him in the disgusting of a bath- watching your every move as you gently scrub on his rough skin, and what always seem to leave you fascinated was the vibration that always leaves from his chest everytime you scrub him- purring like a huge beast. resting his huge face on the swollen of your breast as he breaths you in.

itadori yuji. he was the complete opposite of his brother, he held such a nice energy around him, he was never harsh nor aggressive in anyway towards you, he had such a gentle soul- that's at least how you felt, he would treat you like a delicate flower with so much gentility, you loved having silly little conversations with him, you loved the small walks he would walk with you- even as much as help you with laundry that he knew nothing about.

itadori yuji. he would always yell at his brother as soon as he takes a look at the finger marks he left behind from picking you up here and then, like a ragdoll- you could be doing dishes, sukuna make his way toward hold you 7 feets up the ground sniff you then place you down with a thud. itadori seems to hate it as he frowns at the marks rubbing them gently, he even goes as far as placing a kiss on them letting his lips linger there while his pink warm tongue peak out licking wetly- he makes an unbearable eye contact with you.

your heart pounds in your chest, as you hear yelling coming from itadoris office- you never ever heard itadori yelling the way he's yelling right now and it made you feel so uneasy, it made you wanna run and hide far away. you flinch once you hear the door open and loud footsteps echos in the hallway- the hallway you were in, mopping the floor.

from the shadow that's coming your way- you can tell it was sukuna with his two extra arms that his brother didn't have- or as they say he didn't wanna show. you tightly shut your eyes, holding the wooden mop praying to goddess that he would just to go his room.

but even the goddess couldn't save you from sukunas shadow that now tour over you- you can feel his warm breath on your neck as he leans in, sniffing you as always- but this time he didn't hold you nor pick you up.

you flinch again as you hear itadoris office door slam open and fast heavy foot steps comes directly your way. it was itadori- you couldn't recognize him, he look furious like a beast who was set out of the cage for the first time. glaring at sukuna.

" I fucking told you to stay away from her." he growls out, fuming at the mouth, sukuna rolls his eyes as he steps away from you and continue his way toward his bedroom yelling out a-

"I didn't touch her brother, have it however you want" that makes itadoris eyes snap to you- grabbing your arms harshly for the first time- scanning you for any marks that his brother could have left behind.

it looks like he wasn't satisfied as he picks you, holding you to tightly- to close to your liking you can feel his hard chest pressed harshly against your soft boobs- hard nipples, as he makes his way toward his bedroom closing the door loudly behind him.

he throws you on his bed, making you gasp- as you bounce, not letting you have enough time to process what's happening as he continues his scan- roughly holding your hips, pressing hard against the bed, not letting you move.

you were confused why, when was he this harsh, his soft touch were long forgotten as he hold you so painfully that you couldn't help but choke out a-

"it hurts" that seems to snap him out of it, as his eyes look at you gently and his touch loosen up a bit- looking at you worriedly but whatever his next thought was, it made his eyes darken again, his grip harden, fingers squeezing your hips, earning a pained groan from you.

"why? don't you like that" he whispers harshly against your ear as he leans in, you frown confused on what does he mean by that, you feel his warm breath against your sensitive neck, making you move your hips, trying to escape whatever is going on.

itadori trail his nose slowly down your ear taking deep breaths in, feeling his lips brush against your neck as he do, your heart is pounding as he settle one of his thick legs between your thigh, while the other is outside- caging you in.

"I don't think I quite understand what you mean, my lord." you gasp out, feeling him place his lips on the sensitive part of your neck, while his nose rub gently making it ticklish. itadori lean back to look you in the eyes- his eyes were dark, pupils expanded, staring at you hazely, as if he got drunk on your scent that he was sniffing in.

his eyes trails to your lips, your heart thumps-thumps as he leans in brushing his nose against yours still maintaining eye contact- his mouth half-open just like yours.

"I will show you" he growls out before he fully leans in and take your lips between his teeth- tugging them into his mouth, to meet his warm tongue that peak out to cares your lips, wetting them with his spit- before he fully take your lower lip in, and start sucking on it, making a hot loud wet sound,

this doesn't seem to be enough for him as he leans more in, pushing his knee into your sensitive cunt, making you moan into his mouth which only seems to drive him even more crazy, pushing his knee deeper just like his tongue that makes its way in your mouth just to meet yours.

circling wetly around it, it made you feel so light headed, the way he sucked your tongue into his mouth lapping on it likes he's a new born baby, you whimper into his mouth not realizing that you starting to arch your already dripping cunt into his knee.

"wanna breed you" itadori rasps out, as he break his tongue away from yours staring at the wet string that still connect your mouth together, he grinds his knee into your aching cunt, breathing hard against your lips.

"wanna fuck you" you whimper, your fingers tugging on his hair, letting your tongue out- in intention to tell him that you want his tongue inside your mouth again.

this move of yours drived him crazy, making him groan as he harshly gives you his tongue again swirling it around yours, while he line his throbbing cock against your leaking cunt, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up- grinding against your panties only.

yours lips disconnect again with a wet pop sound, as yuji trail his rough large hands under your dress making their way toward your aching nipples- twisting them against his fingers.

"wanna be inside of you now" he moans out more like to himself- his hips thrusting crazily against yours, it was to much force- to inhuman, it made you bounce hard against the bed, you couldn't do anything but grab on his hair for support- which only seemed to make yuji go even more psychotic.

"fuck, want to feel your wet cunt on my face" he growls out, flipping you so fast- that he was laying down as you straddle his face, your panties was ripped into half by itadoris teeth- like it offended him for hiding your cunt from him.

he slapped your ass so hard- you were sure it was going to leave a purple mark, you cry out, "fuck sorry won't do it again" he coo at you rubbing the spot- but he lied, he does it again and again and again, your pussy was so wet, dripping, drenched as you ride your lords face, you can slide on his face from how wet it was with your juice.

slap, slap, slap, your ass was covered with purple hand marks "more-" he laps on your 5th orgasm, "I want fucking more of this sweet little cunt" he growls out eating your cunt up eagerly, your body was limp on top of his face, your full body weight was set on his face- but he only seemed to enjoy it.

"please no more i can't-" he slurps on your clit holding your thighs hard against his face, you choke on your sobs, "I can't please- please".

he gently stroke your ass, as he mutters out "one more", and you give him exactly what he asked for, squirting all over your lords face- it was to much pleasure, you were trying to move your hips away, but he held your thighs locked into his face not freeing you till he licked every single last drop.

you thought it was over as he place you down on the bed- but you judged to quick as you take a look at his ragging cock that was covered with his own cum, seeds leaking out cumming just from eating your delicious cunt out.

your cunt clench once itadori reveals his huge cock, wanting to be filled by it, "please please" you pathetically spread your thighs, showing him your puffy red pussy from being sucked by him.

"you want me to fuck you? you want to be fucked by your lord?" he darkly questions out as he lines his cock, pushing fully in before you got time to answer.

dark, all you can see is dark, pleasure, all you can feel is pleasure, as you open your eyes gasping for air, to see itadori thrusting his hips inside of you, so fast- so hard, chanting to himself.

"fuck you're so tight, so tight" he moans out drool drips from his mouth to yours, it was to hot, to hot, "I'm going to fill with my cum, you want it? you want it?" he crazily questions as he lock his hips with yours, hovering over you, grabbing your chin just to shove his tongue deep inside your mouth, fucking it just like he's fucking your pussy.

"fuck fuck gonna fill you fuuuuuck" he growls as you feel hot cum hit your womb, you twitch underneath him, it was all to much for you- for you little human body.

itadori didn't pull out his cock was spilling since forever, still spilling even as it leaks out into his bed sheets- you whimper, as you feel him rock his hips, fucking his cum into you.

he coo at you, kissing your sweaty forehead before he pulls out, and spread your thighs just to grin crazily as he looks at the way your red puffy pussy was dripping with his cum.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ to be continued?₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

: ̗̀➛ part 2 is 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

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redgoldsparks · 6 months

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I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood.

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life.

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!"

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why?

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined.

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks."

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017)

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot:

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism

*The government cannot be trusted

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper?

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

#harry potter #harry potter and the problematic author #jk rowling #transphobia #jk rowling transphobic

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foone · 3 months

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So here's how the story goes. Four young adults are teleported away from 1940s earth, where it turns out they're the last descendants of the great sages who defeated evil all those years ago, but with his last breath banished the sages to earth. Now, 200 years later, evil has risen again: a vile sorcerer has raised an army and is threatening the peaceful kingdoms of a fantasy world, and only the Divine Bloodline can weild the Weapons of Light and defeat the rampaging hordes. The heroes take up their weapons and fight the good fight, leading the armies of man and elf and dwarf and beast against the evil orcs, who are vaporized by their touch. They cut a path through the horde and defeat evil's greatest champions, who were guarding the Gem of Control, an ancient artifact that gave the terrible wizard control over the orcish population. Just as one of them swings their hammer to shatter it, the wizard intervenes, and uses the last bit of his control to destroy his army, lest they join you in their freed state. As the pieces of the gem hit the floor, already losing their sickly green glow, they see the attacking orcs fade into mist. They'd killed hundreds in your crusade, sure, but he just killed all of them. They later learn, against all fervent hopes, that this extended to the orcish homelands. Men, women, and children, cooking in their homes, planting the crops, raising brutecows and hunting in the dark forests... All gone in an instant. The scouts report a silent land with tools lying in workshops, food left uneaten at dining tables, and bursting into tears at entering a house to find it was a schoolhouse: Quills lying in all the seats, with rough parchment next to it showing the first few letters of the orcish alphabet.

They redouble their efforts, now fueled with genuine hatred for the evil sorcerer. He shifts his tactics, relying on darker magics to summon undead minions, which don't need the Gem of Control. They don't go poof when a holy weapon touches them, but are still no match for the divine warriors. With a skeleton the size of a zeppelin smashing down towers around them, the warriors reach the wizard and drive a broadsword of light through his chest. The skeletons collapse back into their eternal slumber in little piles on the floor.

The warriors put aside their weapons as they're received with great cheer. They're invited to join the royal families of the four kingdoms, marrying into the human, elf, dwarf, and beast royalty. They spend the rest of their long reign ensuring peace returns, monuments are made for the fallen orc nation, and the remaining undead who fled are not allowed to prey on the peasants, only taking up arms again to fight a den of vampires left behind.

In their old age, the wizard who brought them here reappears. It's taken him decades to develop the right magics, but he can finally send them home. They abdicate, letting their hybrid offspring take control, certain in their ability to run a kingdom with wisdom and justice. They leave behind their holy weapons, in case evil rises again. The wizard warns them that much may have changed in the world they left, as 80 years has passed there while it was only 40 for them, but they still want to see if London still stands and if their families or their descendants are alive.

They appear in the modern day, 2024. They're amazed at the technological progress, of course, but then there's a bigger shock. This isn't just an isekai story: this is a reverse-isekai story.

The holy weapons were forged using the same magics that brought them to the fantasy world in the first place. When they vaporized orcs, they didn't die, they were teleported. Teleported here. Every mind-controlled orc warrior that tasted their blade woke up uninjured... in Portsmouth.

And when the sorcerer tried to wipe them all out as the Gem of Control shattered, all he did was transfer that magic to every one of them. None of them died, except for a few elderly orcs who dropped dead from shock at ending up in England, Earth, 1943.

It's now 2024. The Orc population of London is 3 million. There's twelve orcs in parliament, and another in the house of lords. The world has changed a lot since they left, for the better, the weirder, and the greener.

#My writing

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blackopals-world · 10 months

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Malleus: Marry me!

Noble!Yuu: I will not.

Malleus: My love please. If it's not you then I'd love no one else.

Noble!Yuu: Tragic. How tragic. Don't you understand how impossible it is for us.

Malleus: I don't understand. You love me and I love you.

Noble!Yuu: I'm not naive my dear. I'm not some young sycophant who knows nothing of the world I would be walking into and more than that I have my own responsibilities. Do you think your people will accept a human as their ruler?

Malleus: I can make them. Given time they will accept you.

Noble!Yuu: You can not. You can't make them do anything just because you are king. No matter how powerful you are you can't control anyone. You'd be a tyrant thinking like that.

Malleus: I will protect you!

Noble!Yuu: And be a powerless consort who must rely on you to do everything for me. How humiliating would it be to be ignored and shut away in my own castle? How depressing to only have you to lean on and have no confidence in myself. I was raised better than that and educated for better.

Malleus: You'd be safe. Wouldn't you be happy with me?

Noble!Yuu: I would at first. I'd feel aflutter at the thought of always having you to make things better and not having to worry about petty trifles like money like some peasant. But then I'd be left alone as you govern your nation that I am foreign too. I'd grow to resent you as I feel impotent to change anything other than the decor of my room and even then the traditional fea lifestyle will likely prevent it. I'd never be your equal.

Malleus: You wouldn't be just my consort. My people will understand once we are married, they know how dragons are. They won't have a choice but to love you.

Noble!Yuu: Wishful thinking. Fea are slow to change and they have not moved on from their hate of humans. What can I expect but poison in my cup or protests against us? Not to mention the fate of any children we have. What will they think of a half-fea heir?

Malleus: ....

Noble: Sure a few half-fea here and there isn't much but as their ruler? A child of tainted blood who will only live as long as a human. A magicless human's child at that. In a world where power matters? Blasphemy. You don't think they wouldn't usurp you for that alone long before a child is born? Tell me my love do you think that we will have a fairy tale ending and happily ever after?

Malleus: I don't understand where this is coming from. Why can't we do what will make us happy? Forget about all these silly what-ifs and treasure each other.

Noble!Yuu: We are not at liberty to do such things. We were born in a position of power and trusted to use it for others, not ourselves. Of course, I want us to be happy and to be together. But I can't ignore our differences for the sake of love. Love today could be a tragedy tomorrow. I will not live for long, less than 10 years from your perspective. Can you stop time? Can you prevent death? Will you lose yourself to grief after I'm gone? Do you not think I will not suffer the older I get knowing how much I will hurt you when I pass? Do you think all of this only effects you?

Malleus: Yuu stop! Stop...I can't. Please don't ask anymore. You've clearly thought a lot about this, more than me. I've been short-sighted. But if I could find a way to fix these problems then you would be mine.

Noble!Yuu: Without hesitation.

Malleus: Even if you would cease to be human?

Noble!Yuu: As long as I'm not a monster or four-legged beast then yes.

Malleus: Would you become as fea?

Noble!Yuu: ...yes. I wouldn't take it lightly but yes. Is there even such a thing that could happen?

Malleus: I'll make it possible. For you.

(I think as a Fandom we should acknowledge that being with Malleus would be no cakewalk. There are many problems with it but that doesn't mean we should forget about the bad parts. We all like to fantasize but we should realize that Malleus is complex and so is love. Hardships make stories good and trials make love stronger. I will never understand why some prefer ooc content where everything happens according to what they want with no conflict. How boring and unearned. I love you enough to hurt you so that you can be fulfilled.)

#noble!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland incorrect quotes #mallyuu #malleus hcs #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia x reader

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ranbitteeth · 2 months

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hiii i love ur art and ur fics!!🫶🏽

im desperateee for a reader rails mizu w strap fic😭😭 all the smut i see are of reader bottoming and that makes me hella dysphoric sigh

so so like reader stretching mizu out, lots of whimpering, mizu being nervous, mizu feeling full and claimed, just messy subby mizu taking big strap for the first time plssss😭😭😭😭 maybe some pussy eating foreplay idk, whatever u find best and fun to write. i just need mizu to be a subby bottom its plaguing my mind😵‍💫

A/N: Your wish is my command, dearest! Hhmmm I can never really tell if you guys want a modern/cannon compliant setting— but I find my words flowing easier for the latter. If this isn’t to your liking, I can always write another one! More modern and fluffy

Tags: Possessive!Reader, GN!Reader, Reader is besties w Madame Kaji, DomTop! Reader, Jealous! Reader, Straps, Tried to be historically accurate but one can only do so much research on ancient japanese dildos, takes place sometime before Mizu hops in the boat, Goodbye Sex, Misery.

About 3.8k word count, so I’ll highlight the beginning of the actual smut in red and a star! *

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Parting Ways— To London You Go

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You despised him.

The Blue Eyed Beast of Japan. The onryo. The bastard half-breed that killed the Four Fangs and cut through the Shindo Dojo. Now that was a man that deserved a dog’s death. A humiliating, painful, wretched thing— so much so that pity would spread like disease among even the most hardened of men. A white man had no business in your country. Much less some impure dog, chasing ghosts of white men who had long since fled the island paradise. You believed this yourself, once. The village gossip and fantasies of his approaching death entertained you, excited you. You’d hear of his dishonorable death one evening and you’d think —‘good riddance’.

But no one told you just how much of a darling he was.

You remembered that night to picture clear, the image of his slumped body in the snow so clear in your eyes and memory. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, eyes screwed shut beneath the colored lenses of his glasses— he reeked of blood even in the snowstorm.

Unbeknownst to your family, you brought him inside, ordered your guards to gently place his body in your quarters. The servants made no protest when they saw your insistence on saving this stranger. The wound was seeping a crimson poison onto your floor, red and hot and stinking of blood.

The two of you were alone when his eyelids fluttered open, pained grunts and whimpered muffled by his own teeth against his bottom lip. And you saw it. Blue eyes— unnatural, wrong, and positively lovely. You’ve seen oceans and ponds and skies with less of a dazzling hue. It disgusted you, initially, as the realization of who he was suddenly and violently appeared in your mind.

You hadn’t expected someone so…normal looking.

He did not have a pig’s nose or clammy, sun-abused skin. He was not a beast, giant and ugly— but a man. An injured man, you recalled once his blood stained your palm. Stained your floor, your bed and his clothes. You distantly realized your hands were moving on their own as they undid the binds of his old kimono, and there, beneath the worn, filthy fabric were binds. Not of injury, not of a warrior— but of shame.

Alone in your chambers on a cold winter night amidst the worst storm you’ve ever seen— you knew. The blue-eyed, vicious animal that had earned all of Kyoto’s scorn was in fact a woman.

You adored her.

Your home grew to be a sanctuary to her of sorts. For a being so well despised by the nation, the comforts you provided were scarce luxuries. A bed. A roof. Some semblance of protection. You cared after her like one would a feral pet, a feat which did not go unnoticed. With a blade to your neck and blood painting her hands, she demanded your silence— a vow to never break. As if you’d risk losing such a treasure to the hands of bounty hunters of white men.

The two of you danced with hate for months.

She was a silent spirit, a brewing storm on the distant horizon. At times, you’d catch her eyes on you, other times, she’d notice you doing the same. At times, you’d reach your hand forward and caress the scars on her skin. At times, she’d allow you to– going so far as to present herself.

At times, you’d make love to her. Your depravity was no secret to anyone with ears and working eyes— but your status and wealth made you untouchable. No one but your servants would hear her cries echo from your chambers, and no one but you would see her in the throes of pleasure, head tossed back, expression screwed into one of hesitant bliss and ecstasy.

Or so you thought.

She often returns to you like a dog would weeks after leaving. Loyal, endearing and silent. Whether it was out of some misplaced desire of courtesy or a genuine attachment, you did not know. You’d tell yourself you did not care, but Man would never be born without sin. Madame Kaji, the wonderful hag, would bewitch you in letters with tales of her ladies in the delights her brothel would offer. She mentioned a certain blue-eyed beast in her company in her most previous message. Her letter was pointed, concise, and utterly enraging. By its contents, you would piece together your Mizu’s night with a princess– of all wretched things. After months of silence, alone in your palace with no one but the one and off prostitutes you’d hire and the servants you paid deftly for their loyalty, and the samurai goes off to bed and abandone a lady princess of the Tokunobu clan.

Mizu would not show her face to you until spring. By then, your anger had solidified and festered into an untamable typhoon. As your servants led her to your chambers, Mizu would be standing dead-center in the eye of your storm. Something in her was different. Stronger, yet weaker. Kinder, yet crueler.

“You show your face here again?” You ask cooly, and at least she had the decency to look ashamed, removing her hat. Like this, you could see her properly. (You’d never admit to your anger cooling, but it did.) She does not harden her voice in your presence, but it is quiet, timid, shameful. Before she could open her mouth to speak, one of your servant men approach, head bowed deeply.

“[Title and Name]”, he’d say. Your eyes glance over to him, humming as you granted permission to speak.

“There is a white man inside, bound and immobilized.” He says quickly, bowing his head deeper.

“I only wished for you to be aware.”

Your cold, steely eyes turn to fix Mizu with a chilling stare. She only looks at you head on, taking the challenge. Oh…

“Leave us.” You say, but not before giving an order to boil water over a fire. The door is smoothly slid shut, and the two of you are under the illusion of solitude once more.

“I am to depart for London soon.” Mizu says bluntly, abruptly. You couldn’t have expected anything less. You give no reaction save for a short sigh and two fingers against your temple.

“I am closer to my mission than ever before. I have an informant, I have a boat, I have names.” She talks as if to explain herself, stepping closer in light footsteps, hesitant. “I may not survive through this. I only wished to say goodbye before I leave.”

For a moment, you say nothing. Your mouth is rendered useless as your mind rushes with curses. To the world, to the white men, to Japan, to Mizu, to the hellsite that was London itself. The poisonous concoction of rage and envy that had been brewing for months was bubbling and prickling beneath your skin– only now with the addition of grief.

“This would have been much more convenient in scripture,” you say, voice like hot iron. Mizu’s surprise is tangible, eyes flickering around your features, searching for answers to her questions.

“I adore letters. You know this.” You begin to say, moving from your initial position and circling the room, retrieving several items and placing them on the large expanse of your sleeping bed. You open a box, massive with weight. Inside is parchment, pounds of it. “I collect them.”

You suddenly and harshly shove the box onto the floor, a flurry of parchment and ink spilling at your feet. Mizu seems to shrink, but refuses to cower. Gingerly, you retrieve one excerpt sent just a few months ago from Madame Kaji. You hand it to Mizu, surrounding her. You wait until you are certain she understands what she is reading before you begin to speak.

“Never took you as the brothel-dwelling type.” You say, watching as those demonic, off-putting, oh-so-lovely eyes scan the characters on paper. Your eyes stick to her lips before you remind yourself why you are angry. You imagined those lips entangled with another, and your blood goes cold.

“Nothing happened between me and the princess.” Mizu says, turning to face you. The genuine confusion in her expression is almost insulting. “She meant to kill me that night. Our duel meant nothing. Madame Kaji knows nothing that is true.”

“Not every conflict between you and a stranger is a duel and Madame Kaji is a dear friend of mine.” You reply easily. The hurt in your voice was becoming clearer with each passing syllable.

“You truly believe sailing the seas will come so easy? Do you know how many men I’ve lost in my trades on those voyages? Do you even know what awaits you in London?” You begin to demand these answers, losing the control you pride yourself in as you continue to speak. As a man and a woman, Mizu was nothing but a stupid, lost soul, wandering the earth without an object to attach to. You then gently cup her face in both hands, watching in delight as she melts into your touch.

*“Do you even know how much I’ve wanted you these past months?”

Mizu cannot answer. Her hands raise over yours, fingers brushing against your warmer ones.

“I meant no harm in my absence.” She concedes, round eyes rising to meet with yours. Just like that, the room had shifted. Your eyes darken as they raked along her face and figure, recalling what lay beneath the layers upon layers of fabric she’d use to protect herself.

“You can’t imagine…” You whine, gently undoing the bandages around her neck to expose the delectable skin that lay beneath. Untouched, unseen by all but few. You bury your nose into the crook of her neck before your tongue darts out just to taste flesh and the blood that pumped beneath. Mizu sighs, noticeably relaxing into you. Her arms move to wrap around your neck in a gentle embrace, a position you’ve grown to love and grieve for.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you…” you say, assisting Mizu’s hands and hurriedly undoing her kimono before your hands run hungrily along her skin. Scars, so many more than you remember. A different rage boiled inside of you, protective and not directed to Mizu in the slightest. The two of you move in sync of tangled limbs and warm breaths against open lips. You push her onto your cot, the rage you had felt previously spilling out in the form of hunger. You attack her neck with the teeth in your mouth, suckling and biting down on her white-man skin until cherry-red marks bloom across her neck. She whimpers, coyly craning her neck and exposing herself further– presenting herself. Begging for it. Gods.

“You were away so long I’d almost forgotten what a whore you are…” you coo, undressing her wholly, spreading her legs around either side of your hips. As a surprise to no one, you noticed the particular shininess to the downy hairs on her wet cunt, groaning softly at the sight. Her smell, her taste, her color– you’d spend innumerable nights recalling these things in exquisite detail, going so far as to seek her in other women and finding not one suitable substitution. Your hunger had been building up for months, and now here she was, just as enticing as you remember her. Her teeth nibble down on her finger as she groans into the air.

“[Reader], I haven’t..” she starts, but you shush her before she can continue. Her loyalty only endeared you to her further, and you wanted to remain somewhat angry.

“I know, puppy. You already know who you belong to, don’t you?” You murmured, practically salivating at the sight of her glistening pussy. A whine catches in her throat, allowing you to see in real time her strength and tenacity fail her beneath you. The demon man was nowhere to be found here. You tamed that spirit and contained her in your chambers. You reduced it from a spirit to a man to a moaning, wanton little tart.

“Keep your legs spread and I’ll give you what you came here for.” You order swiftly, to which she nods and complies, spreading her legs further apart. You eagerly adjust your position so that you are resting on your stomach, Mizu’s thighs on either side of your head and your mouth just above her wet cunt. With only an aroused groan as a warning, your tongue descends onto her slick folds, eagerly lapping up the wetness that coated her lovely skin. It was positively obscene, the color and taste of her, the slurping sounds across the room and her whimpering cries as months of stress and anger fell away under your tongue. The poor thing couldn’t even keep her thighs from squeezing around your head, effectively trapping you against her pussy— but it was no matter. Your tongue swirled and massaged what it could reach while the tip of your nose rutted against her clit. Slowly, surely, readily— her raspy, hoarse voice bloomed into something far sweeter, and you could feel the ice around your heart melting. This was the Mizu you knew, without the clothes and glasses and false identity. This Mizu was the one you owned.

You feel her getting close, as it was always obvious with her. You felt her thighs squeezing around your head, felt them shake and tense while her hips bucked against you and her breathing grew more desperate. You feel it, she feels it— she wants it so bad she sobs into her palm. You both know better.

You pull away with a wet, obscene sound, ignoring Mizu’s frustrated groan into her fist. Your lips and chin are wet with her taste and both of your bodies are shining with sweat.

“What? Were you close?” You ask huskily, readjusting yourself so that your body hovers over hers, your fingers pushing in and out of her gushing warmth. You start with two, massaging her insides into relaxation, molding her to your desires. She impatiently pushes her hips against you, holding you in a desperate embrace. You do not hurry, you don’t even respond as you take her lips in yours, letting her taste herself coating your tongue. It was a messy, depraved display— one that made her noticeably wetter around your fingers. Her nails claw into the fabric over your body, tugging it off.

“Take yours off too…” she says in between breaths, eyes half lidded and watery with want.

“You think you can take it already?” You ask slowly, dead serious. Mizu nods, a slow and deliberate thing. Who are you to argue now?

“It’s bigger than the other one. You sure?” You ask again, making slow, hard motions against her wet clit.

“[Reader]…” she gasps, carrying a note of exasperation, her hands now trembling against you. “Please…!”

You laugh, breathless, exhilarated. Your lips gently press against her forehead, a soft ‘wait here’ and a quick trip to the corner of your bedroom later, you retrieve it.

You commissioned this piece long before you knew Mizu would return. Your very own harigata, hard as a tortoise shell, ribbed and heavy in size and weight. You expressed your desire to be able to attach it to yourself to please your lovers and so the artist complied. You held it up with one hand, allowing Mizu to gauge at the weight and size before stuffing it with warm cotton dipped in the previously boiled water at your side. Mizu hasn’t even noticed the servant come in, far too immersed in watching you align the phallus to her soaking cunt. She feels the heat through the tortoise shell and whimpers, hips trembling before she spreads her legs further apart. The head was already pushing against her hole, oh so ready to slip inside. Just as you mean to push yourself in, Mizu makes a strangled little noise and you cease in your tracks.

“Yes?” You ask, already breathless.

“It’s big…” she says, repeating the words you said earlier. You laugh, endeared.

“Yes. You want it smaller?” You ask again, but she shakes her head no.

She licks her dried lips before she swallows. “Don’t hold back.”

Unable to control yourself, you laugh, head falling beneath your shoulders and against her collarbone. Fuck.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You feel her nervousness in the tension of her body. As aroused as she was, it had been some time since she’s seen you. You begin with slow, shallow thrusts to get her accustomed to the feel, not going halfway until you hear her get noticeably impatient.

“Hold on, puppy. I don’t want to hurt you…” you say, but you push yourself in deeper to quiet her whimpers. The ribbed surface rutting in and out of her wet heat had its obvious effects. Her knees shake where they are around your hips and her head arches back as she moans, voice breaking. The harigata was doing everything it was designed to do and more. Mizu was falling apart so beautifully and you weren’t even fully inside.

Slower thrusts, still quick but less shallow, and she moves her arms to wrap around your neck in a tender embrace, holding your back to keep herself present. With you.

Some time passes, and you push yourself in further. You feel some natural resistance, Mizu’s breath hitching. You pause and pull away somewhat to check for her expression, finding her eyes wet with tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling in ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself long enough to get a sentence out.

“No! No, don’t stop. [Reader], please don’t stop,” she whines, cradling your face. You obliged and continued, though far slower than the pace you were going before. Mizu openly whimpers at this loss before she intertwines her legs around your hips by her ankles, keeping you close.

“Could that princess give you what I can?” You say suddenly, still feeling that burst of envy possess you as you rut your hips forward with a precision that only hours of fantasies and failed attempts to recreate Mizu’s body could give you. A shuddering, wanton moan later, Mizu’s hand flies over her mouth. You take that hand by her wrist and pin it to the floor, still thrusting your hips against hers with purpose and vigor. Not all the way in, not yet. “Well?” You ask. You demand.

“N-no…no she can’t…” Mizu damn near sobs, and possession coils in your gut as you push the harigata to reach new depths. Her moans are pitched and broken, you feel and see her falling apart. The poor thing felt so full, unsure what to even make of the delicious stretch your phallus provided or the hot arousal that being beneath you gave her. To some degree, she was yours, and you both knew it.

Feeling pleased with her state as she answered, you finally and gently push yourself in entirely, making her back arch and moans echo across your chambers like they did so long ago. The harigata’s other end pushes against you, makes you groan at the pressure. You look down at her whorish expression, her inky black hair spread like a halo around her head. You see her flushed skin shining with sweat, you see the tremble in her body and think about how much longer you’ll have to go without it.

“You don’t even know what you do to me…” You begin to ramble without thinking, words flowing like water from your tongue while Mizu moans beneath you.

You can’t help the way your hips begin to plow against hers, you can’t help the strength and ferocity that possesses you when you think of the distance that will be between the two of you. When you think of who she could meet and compare you to. When you think of yourself in the future, in bed, alone, aching for a body that will not be there. You cannot control the desire in your body when your hips move in a way that can only be described as primal, and she takes it all. Mizu has always taken what you give her so well, and it wasn’t long before you were both panting each other’s name against your skins, the room now hot and stuffy and reeking of sex. Her voice reaches a certain pitch, her nails claw into the silken fabric of your kimono, and you can tell she’s closer than ever.

A warm flower of pride bloomed in your chest as you realized that one day, if all went well, you could keep her for yourself. You’d no longer spend the lonely nights in your palace inviting women of the night to give you company. You’d no longer need to bear the crushing loneliness in your bed — not when Mizu’s mission would fail and she’d realize her rightful place at your side. Safe and warm. Protected. Yours.

You imagine fucking her day and night when she returns until she’s sore and trembling, unable to stand without your assistance. The mental image and the emotions it ignites inside of you make you openly and shakily moan in sync with her, and the two of you cum in each other's embrace. She’s damn near bitten through the silk of your kimono by now, drool coating the luxurious fabric. By now, she’s hardly the image of dignified, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pull yourself off of her with nothing but a smooth roll of your hips and a near-violent shudder from the body beneath you. By then, it had all blurred together into a hazy memory of warm candlelight, golden skin, and warm, damp towels running along Mizu’s body and freshly fetched water poured into her waiting mouth. You only remember the rest you won for yourself that night, the two of you wrapped in a tangle of limbs and half torn fabric, warm.

But you wake up cold, and you recall why she came by in the first place.

“Would it be too burdensome to stay?” You implore, voice breaking with sleep and heartache. That worn, raggedy kimono is once again wrapped around her figure, her bandages back on. Her very aura is cold and distanced, and the weight of her decision truly settles into your skin.

“We can be happy, you know.” You say, almost pleading but with far too much pride to let it show. “I am in the mountains, far from the city. No white man could find you here,” You can’t being yourself to stand. You watch as her expression morphs from one of sorrow and pity to one of distrust, distaste, and near-resentment. Whether it is directed to you or her father, you cannot be sure.

With her back to you and her voice in the tone of a man’s, she bids you goodbye.

You find that— more than anyone— you want her quest of revenge to fail.

How you despised her.

And oh, how you missed her.

#blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #mizu x you #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai smut #mizu x y/n #lIGHTTT very light akemi x mizu #if you squint

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ystrike1 · 4 months

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Outbride: Beauty and the Beasts - By Tohko Tsukinaga (8/10)

Harems are messy on a good day. A harem of overpowered monster men is a thousand times worse. A war with the Gods of Misfortune has broken out, and the world is in need of powerful children. One easy way to boost your species is having a child with a human. Too bad there's only one left.

Mashiro is a girl with no experience. She's nervous about romance, and she's kind of afraid of men. She doesn't even want a boyfriend yet.

She gets hit by a car. It belongs to a politician. The incident is covered up, and she doesn’t wake up. I know what you're thinking, but this story is not an isekai.

It's actually quite dark.

When she wakes up 2000 years have gone by, and humanity went extinct. While she was in that coma a disaster destroyed the human world. It collided with the world of the Gods. At first the combination of worlds brought forth a surge of prosperity. The Godly races are stronger than ever before. Breeding with humans made each race exponentially stronger....but that was the problem. The Gods continuously got stronger with each generation, but the human race remained weak. Eventually they died out. Billions of them, because they were seen as a means to get stronger...not as an independent race. The Gods started to fight over them, and the humans were too weak to do anything when they were caught in the crossfire.

Now, the Gods look mostly human. Their ancestors married many humans before the race died out.

Mashiro is literally the only human left, and she's only alive because she's an international secret.

Here's a quick summary of her four husbands.

Noel his wolf characteristics. He is descended from the Gods of War. He feels like he's not strong enough. War is brewing, and there are no more humans to breed with. He feels inadequate in the face of this threat. His nation protected Mashiro's sleeping body for a while. He claims he will never love her. He wants to ensure she lives in comfort, but he sees her as a way to keep his nation strong.

(He has a crush on her but he can't admit it)

Alfred is a prince with angel wings. He's actually the strongest member of his race. His own father hates him, because he's jealous. The son surpassed the father too fast. Alfred is very lonely, because powerful children are rare now. He wasn't allowed to play or have fun as a kid. He had to use his healing powers to help his people, and Mashiro. Mashiro was healed and stabilized by him. Without him she would have stayed asleep. He fell madly in love with her. He feels connected to her, because they are both tools being manipulated by international politics. He's a little crazy, but he wants Mashiro to love him.

Fei Shen is the strongest God present. He did not feel attracted to Mashiro when she was asleep. He is the last pure blood God, but he feels no kinship with her because she's the last of her race too. He became one of her husband's because it's only natural for the strongest to have the best of everything. He falls madly in love with Mashiro AFTER she wakes up. He's not sweet like Alfred. He's always ready to dump harsh facts on Mashiro, but he also wants her to rely on him. He also takes her virginity. She offers it to him in exchange for many lives. Fei Shen isn't interested in protecting the world. Only the castle. She has to offer herself up to convince him to save regular people.

Oma the demon doesn't really feel like a "husband". He has many wives and children at home. He's with Mashiro because his race has suffered too many devastating losses. They need a new leader, with new powers. Oma is a sympathetic character, and he tries to be patient with Mashiro, but he's really here as a plot device. Oma has seen the worst of war. He's not overly special. He's older, and he can't just do whatever he pleases like Fei. He will never place Mashiro above the needs of his people.

Mashiro was asleep, but she was also being preserved by magic. It took four whole nations, an unfathomable amount of money, Alfred, and Fei's influence to keep her alive. Generations of gods have been protecting her. It's pretty freaky. Alfred, Noel, and Oma all knew Mashiro when they were children. Yes, they knew about the bride thing the whole time. Fei Shen was brought in later as a wild card, to add an extra layer of protection.

It's blunt. It's horrible, but her awakening is because of their hard work and they expect......some kids in exchange.

I do think it's nice that Fei doesn't beat around the bush. Fei was recruited as a ruthless final measure. Mashiro has a very distinct scent and appearance. Other males will try to kidnap her. She is the most desirable wife worldwide. Only the threat of the strongest living God around can keep them at bay.

Mashiro develops feelings for Noel first. I totally get it. It's easy to read how he really feels if you pay attention. He's in denial. He doesn't like sharing, but he understands that protecting Mashiro is not a one man job. He's also...nice? Mashiro actually enjoys hanging out with him, and he doesn’t constantly whine about babies. He is pretty manipulative though. His devotion to his nation pushes him to do shady things behind the scenes, but he's always kind when Mashiro needs him.

She wanted to give him her virginity, but then war broke out.

Alfred is the most stereotypical yandere in the cast, but he is quickly overshadowed by Fei. He's also kind of a purity freak. He wants to give his whole virginity to Mashiro. He hasn't even touched himself before. The other men actually chasten him and tell him to sleep with some other women, because he could hurt Mashiro. Alfred is blinded by love for a while, but he snaps out of it before he does anything unforgivable.

After the virginity deal we get another surprise. Fei wasn't exclusively protecting the castle just because he's an asshole. He's the strongest, but that doesn’t mean he can fix everything with a snap of his fingers. Mashiro orders him to protect a wave of villages in exchange for a night with her, and he returns covered in wounds. He is also, somewhat understandably, upset when she isn't as excited as him. Even though he completed her insane order to fend off multiple armies alone.

Mashiro feels a little guilty. She didn’t know she was asking for so much.

Before they sleep together they have a nice moment. Fei also takes her away for a couple days, because he wants to show her his palace. He's a capable and powerful yandere, but I feel like most of the story will focus on her first crush. Noel.

#Outbride: Beauty and the Beasts #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended

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pedripics · 2 months

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"He is still the same as when he was 5 years old. That's the best thing about him."

(via Revelo - July 2023)

"Now I'm not going to be able to mess with him or make jokes. I'm not going to be able to hit him, because if he's going to hit me back...", laughs Rubén Delgado when we talk about the strengthened physique of Pedri, whom he coached between the ages of 9 and 12 at U.D. Tegueste, when he was a " just small boy, but what he had from a young age was great footballing ability". Pedri has always said that Rubén is the coach who taught him how to compete.

"He arrived at Barça with 60 kilos, very little, and when he completed his first season with Barça he had already gained three or four kilos. With Koeman, he started to do the same work as he does now in that first year, with three days a week of more strength training. Then two, then one, because he arrived as a youngster and there was even the possibility of going out on loan; he even had offers from Bayern to go out on loan. What happened was that when Koeman saw him train, everything changed. From 'we're going to give him a work plan of three days a week' he became a starter, playing every three days, he played everything and, obviously, you then can't have three days of strength work, it's impossible," explains a person close to the midfielder, whom we will call E.P.

"This year is the first time that he has had a real five-week holiday. De la Fuente wanted to take him to the Nations League, but in the end, Barça and the Federation came to their senses and understood that the best thing was to let him rest, have a normal summer for the first time since he is at the highest level and take advantage of it to train, because in the end that way you can see his evolution. He's had five weeks in which he's been able to rest but, above all, to train, because in competition the muscle is eaten away, especially in the lower body. Maybe Tchouameni, who has a great physique, can do more. What Pedri has is a lot of endurance. When he was a kid, he also did athletics at school as an extracurricular activity, and he was very good. That resistance lacked to generate muscle. Chema Martínez has one type of muscle, Usain Bolt another. He had a more fibrous muscle and now he had to gain a bit more volume for 1v1s, and also at the lower body level. The image that has made an impact is that of the arms, but the work above and below has been compensated and worked on following a guideline set by Barça", says E.P., who puts Pedri's current weight at 67 kilos.

The Tenerife native has gained two kilos with that physical work done this summer and is not recommended to gain "more than one". "To take him to the 70 would be too much. That would be the limit. What all parties consider is that he is a player who has to gain muscle mass but he shouldn't change his physiognomy completely. He is a lightweight footballer. His mental rapidity leads him to have quickness of movement, to have some dribbling. If he is heavy with the size he is, 1.74m., he would become in quotes, a 'barrel'," explains E.P., who is clear about what is not the goal in the work that the Barça midfielder is doing: "The objective is not to turn him into a muscular beast because he is not like that. He has a similar physique to Messi. Messi is obviously the best, I hope he comes as close as possible, but he will never be able to be Cristiano. Neither Messi nor Pedri could be Cristiano. Neither does he have the physique of Gavi, who has a more powerful lower body, but Gavi's style of football demands more of that than Pedri's game. It would be a mistake", reflects E.P., who specifies that the Tenerife native has done "a lot of cycling, eccentric pull-ups - those where you go up and then you have to hold on when you come down - and work on the pitch, above all".

'Four Friends'

Those who have closely experienced the physical work and nutritional diet that Pedri has followed during these five weeks have been Dani Carreras, Fran Llarena and Rubén Suárez, the three best childhood friends of the footballer, ex-players of Tegueste, where they were under Rubén's orders.

The 'Four friends', like David Trueba's novel, have shared a summer in a villa in Adeje (Tenerife), although their coexistence has been stricter and based on rest, physical work and a rigorous diet that they have all followed. "In the villa, we had a cook who prepared the food for Pedri's diet. Lots of vegetables, lots of vegetables with spices and fish, sometimes meat. But above all, lots and lots of vegetables. I wanted to eat more, but well, we've adapted to him", says Dani, a striker in the team that Pedri played for from "4 to 16-17 years old".

"It has been a hypercaloric diet, with a high intake of calories to be able to compensate for the expenditure of energy and to be able to evolve the muscle. It depends on the day, the work to be done, the moment, but it has been over 3,000 calories," says E. P. with a figure that is far from the perception of Pedri's friends.

"We ate a lot but, of course, few calories in reality: a lot of vegetables, obviously more than five pieces of fruit a day, when it was time for pasta we ate a lot of pasta, but always in measured quantities. We could skip it a bit because the diet wasn't really for us but for him. Everyone followed his diet...", laughs Fran, Pedri's friend "practically since they were born". "My mother put me into a small football team when I was 3 and he was put into the same football team from 3 to 5 years old. We also lived super close here in Tegueste, about 200 meters away, and we've always been friends since we were kids," says Fran, mediocre "like Pedri, but a bit further back. "

They played together until they joined the youth team, when Fran was signed by Tenerife. This summer, as well as being a friend, he has acted as a personal trainer to the Culé footballer. "He has worked every day: in the gym, he worked five days, rested on Saturdays and Sundays, and outside of it is true that he worked more because we went to the football pitch almost every day for speed training and cardio. We went here in the south of Tenerife, to Tenerife Top Training - where I am also told that Courtois occasionally goes - to a field called T3, and there we worked with cones. I helped him with explosiveness, if I had to pass him balls, put the cones on him... I helped him and trained with him. There was a day when he killed me to run with him and I said: 'No more'", recalls Pedri's friend, with whom he has also shared afternoons of paddle tennis and paddleball.

They have hardly left the village for anything other than training or eating out one day a week. In Adeje, they have enjoyed the swimming pool, "we have played a lot of Monopoly and Catan, and cards, baraja española (spanish card deck); al Presidente", says Dani.

It's been days based on the physical and nutritional discipline that Pedri has been fulfilling to the letter, with a self-demanding attitude that has grown as a result of the injury he suffered last February against Manchester United in the Europa League. In a solo action, he injured the rectus anterior of his right leg. It was the 41st minute. He himself asked to be substituted. That day was a before and after for the player, explains Fran: "He is very demanding because he has already had several injuries and since then he has changed his training and eating patterns to try not to relapse. His nutritionist was on top of it, because there have been many injuries to the same muscle in the 2-3 years he has been in professional football, this would be his fourth, which is noticeable at the end of the day; the 70 games he played in his first year at Barça are going to take their toll on him now, at any time. He's always taken care of his training, but this time it's more exaggerated".

A task in which he is helped by his disciplined personality. "He has never, never, never been a soft drink drinker, he always drinks water or isotonic drinks, sports drinks", Dani explains. Rubén recalls that "he has never been one for sweets either". "He likes chocolate, but chocolate products are another thing that has completely disappeared: sweets. In fact, he goes to events and takes his heavy, calibrated snack, his fruit, grapes with I don't know what nuts... And, look, one thing he loves, a healthy vice, is pistachios. He loves them, but he can eat very little because it's a good source of energy, but the ones he eats he eats without salt and so, zero problems. There is another food that he has been eating since he was little, obviously, which is bananas. He can put bananas in everything, it's incredible. Before Plátano de Canarias was his sponsor, when he started as a professional, he put a banana in his boot. Now he eats, but the range of fruits has expanded a lot. And another thing about Pedri is that he never drinks coffee. We've joked with him once or twice: 'Oh shit, if you drank coffee, you'd get nervous from time to time and you wouldn't be the same anymore'," says E.P. anecdotally, who also reflects a striking feature of Pedri's personality that is helping him to follow a disciplined life: punctuality.

"He's hyper-punctual. You say 'This is a Canarian, a relaxed guy...', and yes he has that relaxation, that pause, that semi-Caribbean Canarian tranquillity, but in terms of punctuality, he's a fucking German. He has many points of discipline but before they weren't united in anything. Now everything has some guidelines, it's blending and uniting well," reasons E.P., who says that Barça, "at least since the arrival of Xavi", forces them to have lunch or dinner at the Ciudad Deportiva.

Rosi’s Croquetas

But there is a common denominator between the four voices that paint Pedri's sporting and nutritional life: the croquettes of his mother, Rosi, which the Tenerife player himself mentioned on Saturday during Barça's American tour when asked about his physical change. "Above all, not eating my mother's croquettes," said the player.

"His mother is a spectacle, she's a machine. Her croquettes are a different story," Dani laughs. "The only treats are his mother's food or going out to eat. I had one meal a week off, so maybe we'd go out to eat somewhere, healthy food too, but eating differently from what your diet is. And it is true that he ate pistachios, he usually eats a lot of them, because he likes them, but healthy ones, of course, without salt. And little else", explains Fran.

"He has always had a fairly balanced diet and well, above all, the famous mother's croquettes, he was very well fed," says Rubén, who assures us that "you need to take time to try them because they are delicious." "They offer a variety: chicken, cod... They have it all. I can vouch for it, I recommend it," he says with a laugh.

Rosi is Pedri's mother and cook at the Tasca Fernando, which she runs with her husband and the footballer's father "at the entrance to Tegueste on the Nacional", explains E.P. "It's the typical small-town place, traditional, where you eat very good homemade cuisine, with very good produce. And of course, Pedri ate there every day until he went to Las Palmas, where he stayed in the residence, in La Casa Amarilla. They could make him slightly different dishes, but in the end, he ate what was available. It’s a normal, ordinary, hard-working family. When they go to see him in Barcelona, they also cook for him, but now the whole family is very conscientious and they are helping him a lot", he says.

His brother Fernando has played a key role in his healthy eating since his arrival at FC Barcelona. "He lives with his brother in Barcelona, near Ciutat Esportiva. As the first year they were at Barça was the year of the pandemic, they went to live together. Fernando studied cooking. He is two years older but as Pedri was always ahead of his time, they played football together for many years. They are like friends and brothers at the same time, and he cooks for him".

"Skinny and tiny"

Talking to Dani, Fran and Ruben has been visualizing the Pedri who started playing football in Tegueste in his earliest childhood, when their lives came together and it was clear to all three of them that that "weak and small" child would go far. "He had something," says Rubén, who always told his partner and his parents, to those around him. "It was to be expected," Fran says. His coach recalls how the three, Pedri, Dani and Fran, "were very good, were the best, and super nice people."

"He has always had a mentality that is not cold, because he is not cold, but a very relaxed mentality, so to speak. If the game is at 100, he would stay at 25, to give you an idea. And that control, and especially at the ages that I coached him, it was very difficult to see a child who controlled the guidelines of a match as much as him; who knew that if the match was very, very tense, he would take it to his own ground and take it to where he wanted it to be. And it's very difficult to find that at that age. Obviously, today you see him and it's even more difficult because you see him inside a stadium with so many people, and with that calmness that he shows and that relaxation and that control of his state, it's very difficult to find that in a player and, above all, as young as he is, who is only 20 years old", recalls Rubén, the coach who moved Pedri's position from the front to the centre of the pitch.

"From a very young age, he stood out from the rest. He did things that a normal 9-year-old didn't do. I always highlight one thing about him and that is that on a footballing level, he obviously had spectacular technique, quality and physique. Because despite being so small he was the first to attack, the first to defend, a spectacular sacrifice towards his teammates... But if there's one thing I've always highlighted about him, it's the footballing maturity he had at the age of 9. He knew how to position himself, he knew where he had to be at all times, which even nowadays professional players work on and not all of them are practically ready. And he, at 9 years old, already knew how to read a game, he already had a very adult sporting maturity for the age he was", says the coach proudly.

"I remember that when in one of the many games in which he was playing and he was killing it and doing things that were not normal, of course, the game ended and at that time I asked him: 'Hey, why did you decide to do this?', and any other child would have said to me: 'Well, look, I did this because I saw it like this…'. And he came in with the little soft voice he had and said, 'I don't know, Ruben, it just came out of me. ' And my colleague and I looked at each other like: 'It just came out of you?, but I didn’t even do that at 25 years old…", recalls the coach.

A similar situation to the one we experienced in the 2021/22 season, when on April 3 Pedri gave Barça a 1-0 victory over Sevilla and placed Barça second in the table. "He cuts once, twice, three times and then hits it with his left. He said he didn't know what he had done, that it just came out of him like that," remembers Rubén, who confesses that when he had the opportunity to talk to Pedri he told him: "Man, that was the same thing you said to me when you were 9 years old."

"The problem for me is that as I've known him all my life, I'm not surprised by what he does. Yes, on the one hand, he surprises me sometimes, when I realise and say: 'Woah, my friend is doing this' and I see him in a different way, but only for a moment because then I remember that it's him and that it was to be expected. From the minute he stepped on a professional pitch he remained the same. He doesn't care who he plays against. Even when we were little, we played on a court, in a pavilion, and he would tell me: 'You play with me', and the brother, and we would play against 20-year-olds, and we were 14. And they'd say, 'Well, come on, but just for a bit.' There were three teams and the one that won was still there. So we got with the team, we were 14 years old and some were 16 and 17, and we beat kids who were 20, 21, 25, and of course, they were shocked. They said: 'But what about these kids?', and especially with Pedri, because he was the youngest and the best. If you see him doing that on the pitch from a young age, with 20-year-olds, knowing that he doesn't care if he gets kicked, or if he gets his body thrown around, or if they take him out, because that has adapted him to professional football, it doesn't surprise you" recalls Fran about a physical and sporting stature that has always accompanied Pedri. Just like the Barcelonismo, which he also lived from his cradle. His grandfather Fernando founded the Peña Barcelonista de Tenerife-Tegueste.

"He is still the same as when he was 5 years old. He's the same person. That's the best thing about him. He also has a very good family that helps him keep his feet on the ground. When you're with him, you say: 'And this guy is playing for Barcelona'. Also, one thing he has is that when he gets picked on... Maybe you say to him: 'How few goals you score'. Me, for example, I'm a big fan of screwing with him. Yes, yes, I don't know what, but you don't score goals', I say things like that. And when he's picked on, he always gets it. And this year is going to be quite important for him and for Barça. He's going to start to be one of the leaders, I think. He already is, but his character is not that of a leader, but the way he plays. He's a very fundamental player, but he doesn't feel like a leader. No way, no way, that's not the case", admits Dani, who reveals Pedri's joking character. "He seems shy, but he jokes a lot, he's always joking around, with everyone in general. I'm always calling him silly and stuff like that," he laughs.

Calm, familiar, punctual… and with a low heart rate

"The important thing is that you have clear ideas, because at the end of the day, that life is not easy. It's very easy for many things but it's not always easy to carry all of it, not being able to go out, that kind of thing. That he knows his priorities and that he doesn't get too carried away, that's the key for me, beyond a kilo more muscle or not, because you have to be very good in everything and that luck is with you, but if you're not focused, success will not last long. He is familiar, calm, with a low heart rate. May he continue like that", asks E.P. for the future of Pedri, who is going to live an important year this season after the departure of Busquets, the arrival of Gundogan and his demanding summer to get back in top physical shape.

"When he has been asked the typical question: 'What do you need to improve on,' he has never said anything other than these concepts: more goals and physical improvement. In five months, he scored seven goals. If he hadn't been injured, he would have doubled that. This year he should have at least 10-12 goals. Xavi asks him to do that and he will always work to the maximum", explains E.P.. When the competition begins we will see how he establishes his physical form on the pitch. His appearance is already improved, muscular, in a "work of prevention and evolution" that his friends hope to see in sporting terms, in the present and in the future.

"Remember that he is still only 20 years old, normally a footballer explodes at 25, 26, 27, 28 years old. And that's the beautiful thing, that he still has fifteen years of football left and hopefully he continues to rise," says Fran.

"You know what happens? He has the gift of knowing how to win people over. He has a great gift for companionship. So, he is lucky that if he says 'everyone around here', I think they will follow him. Why? Because he has that gift, he has the personality he has, a personality that engages, that transmits good vibes, as they say around here. He is still a bit young to perhaps be a leader, but it is true that I think that at "Barcelona they have noticed that his presence on the field helps the team play in one way or play in another. And I think that is being a leader," Rubén reasons.

Winning leagues, taking Barça back to great heights in Europe, winning a European Championship or a World Cup are some of the challenges that the four protagonists outline around Pedri, but one stands out above all: after having lifted the Golden Boy 2021, it would be to win the Ballon d’Or. "It would be a dream for all of us," says Rubén with a huff. "It’s just that this kid surprises you every day, you don't know where his ceiling is, he's only 20 years old," stresses Fran.

E.P. has this to say on the matter: "It's not something that torments him or keeps him up at night, he prioritises the collective trophies, but obviously it's a consequence of everything, it's an evolution. Neither Iniesta nor Xavi managed to win it, none of his idols have been able to do it. Rodri has done very, very well and his team has performed very well. There is already talk that Rodri could or should have a Ballon d'Or. If Pedri continues to be one of Barça's flagship players, as he practically already is, and Barça regains its usual status of the last 20-25 years and the national team is up there, then why not, but that's a long way to go. To win a trophy of this type, you have to have powerful collective trophies, because Haaland or Cristiano could win it if they score 50 goals, but it's different with him. Let's see, for the moment, how he settles in this new season in which he wants to have continuity again".

And it’s up for the future to see how his new physique responds, but if there is one thing that does not generate doubt among his friends it is his name: "With this new bodybuilding, is it going to be necessary to call him Pedro instead of Pedri at some point?" I asked. Dani laughs before remembering that Pedri was given the name when he was 8-9 years old, "because there were two Pedros in the team and the other one was much bigger than him, so they kept calling him Pedro and him, who was much smaller, Pedri". "For us and for everyone he will always be Pedri," adds Rubén. "He is Pedro González López. Maybe when he is 55 and playing dominoes in his village they will start calling him Pedro, but in the meantime, I doubt he will stop being Pedri", reflects E.P. "Pedri is and will always be Pedri", says his friend Fran.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barcelona #barça #fc barça #*interview

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tales-of-osinia · 11 months

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"In Scorching Waters" is an +18 interactive fiction fantasy story, featuring adventure, magic, and romance.

Demo coming soon. Inbox open for questions! (Minors, please DNI)

You are a deserter. You want nothing to do with the Kingdom and its army, with battle magic, or with the past life you’ve buried. That is, until one day you return home to find an old friend waiting for you by your doorstep, with a proposition that will have you putting your old skills to use in exchange for valuable information on your long-lost family.

After being taken from your family at a young age, you spent many years of your life honing your magic skills for combat and then serving in the army of the Kingdom of Keth. For a long time during the current war efforts against the Kingdom of Ashara, you had served your nation loyally – willingly or not –, until something made you turn your back on it.

It’s been four years since you started living a quiet, discrete life on an island far away from Keth’s influence. That is, until you return home one day to find Al, an old friend from the army, waiting for you by your doorstep, with a proposition that will have you putting your old skills to use in exchange for valuable information on your family.

The situation, as it stands: Al’s uncle, an important political figure in Keth, has been captured by a group who now hold the power to destroy their family’s political standing within the Kingdom – and that would be a best-case scenario. With negotiations for his release falling apart, Al has gathered a team of people who all depend on and/or would benefit from their family maintaining political power, and is planning to sail across the seas to release said uncle from captivity. They are asking you to join this quest, and in exchange, they promise you nothing short of your greatest wish: information on the family you were torn away from more than a decade ago.

Join in on a rescue mission that will have you sailing through dangerous seas, with mostly strangers for company.

Boost team morale and learn to work as a unit to survive the dangers of the journey, or face the consequences.

Face magically-induced weather events, mystical beasts, human criminals, and more.

Restore your years-long friendship with an old army companion, or push them even further away.

Pursue romance with someone from your new team (with two someones, perhaps), or have a fling with one of the crewmates.

And most importantly: make sure the mission succeeds and you survive to get the information that made you tag along on this journey in the first place.

Play as a man, woman, or non-binary person. Pick your character’s name, gender, pronouns, appearance, and sexual orientation.

Decide your combat magic specialization: play as an Elementalist, balancing the duality of fire and ice to unleash both frost and infernos on your enemies; a Countermage, proficient in shielding and warding yourself and your allies, and in negating magical effects; or an Electromancer, an expert in manipulating charges, currents, and electricity to wield lightning with your bare hands.

Choose how to approach your new companions: be cold, be rude, keep a professional distance, create new friendships, or perhaps do some flirting.

Different romances available: a friend from your old life, whom you estranged after disappearing without saying goodbye; a scholar turned outlaw, disenchanted and hardened after his fall from grace; or a sweet nomad, who despite spending most of their time alone in the wilderness, is the most excited one about the current company. (possible additions in the future)

Al, the Old Friend (Alistair/Alissa) – M/F, he/him or she/her. RO.

Dark brown skin. Coiled black hair, oval-shaped face. Alistair has a short, well-kept beard. Round dark brown eyes, straight eyebrows, long eyelashes, and a button nose. And the perfect posture of someone who has spent all their life training on how to present themselves in front of the masses. Alistair: 5’9, Alissa: 5’6.

Al comes from a prestigious family with a long, respected political history in the Kingdom of Keth, and they have spent their entire lives preparing for an eventual future in politics like the rest of their family. Al was one of the first people you met when you left the academy to join the mage army, and the two of you grew very close over the years serving in the same squad. And then you fled from the Kingdom without saying goodbye.

Possible variations: 1. close friends; 2. close friends and MC was in love with Al; 3. close friends in love, but neither tried to cross the final line. (Note: this choice won’t lock you out of romancing other characters/lock you into romancing Al.)

Kaden, the Outlaw – M, he/him. RO.

Light beige skin. Slightly rectangular face shape, with a square chin, with a cleft. Hooded, upturned brown eyes, with dark upward eyebrows. Starting to develop soft frown lines between the eyes due to constant frowning (both out of annoyance and due to his mild nearsightedness). Shoulder-length, straight black hair, kept partially tied back. 5’11.

Kaden was once a brilliant historian and archaeologist, but he stepped on too many powerful toes in his attempts to disseminate his research. His dismissal from the field, academia, and eventually from the Kingdom’s capital was as quiet and surreptitious as the removal of his publications from bookshelves.

His reason for joining in on this dangerous quest isn’t clear, but it certainly isn’t out of affection or respect for Al.

Castis/Catalina, the Nomad – M/F, he/him or she/her. RO.

Light, tanned skin. Heart-shaped face, with a pointy chin. Almond-shaped green eyes, thick rounded eyebrows, and a straight nose. Freckles all over the face and shoulders. Wavy, light brown hair that reaches a little below the shoulders. Castis: 5’10, Catalina: 5’9.

C is a sweet, approachable person, eager to socialize with anyone who gives them the chance to; it is both odd and impressive that someone who spends all their time alone in the wilderness can have such people skills. Despite being on a quest that may very well send them to their death in waters far away from the woods they are used to, they are very enthusiastic about the adventure to come.

This story is rated +18. It will feature strong language, violence, and (optional) sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Once the demo is out (and as it gets updated over time), I'll also be updating the content warnings, which will include a list of potentially sensitive topics.

#interactive fiction #choicescript #if wip #interactive novel #if #dashingdon #in scorching waters if #tales of osinia #tales of osinia: in scorching waters

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imagine-darksiders · 6 months

Text

Not your time - A Darksiders oneshot.

Hey everyone!

A commission from the lovely and generous @humboltsquid, who requested a female Reader who barely survives an assassination attempt that's carried out in front of the Horsemen.

CW: Blood, guns, assassination attempt, mild descriptions of bullet wounds, aftermath, protective Horsemen, whump, angst, fluff, Death centric.

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A sudden flash of dazzling light bursts in front of your face, and try as you might to keep your eyes open, you just know that come Monday, there’ll be an unseemly photograph of you squinting out of the front page of a local newspaper.

“Perfect!” the photographer grins without casting so much as a glance down at the screen of her camera.

Blinking rapidly to disperse the shadow floating in front of your eyes, you take another look out at the crowd gathered on the square below the steps of Haven City Hall.

Most, if not all of their attention is rigidly devoted to you as multiple pens sit poised over tattered notebooks, though there are some people who throw envious glares at the photographer as she retreats back into their ranks.

You have to admit, you find yourself wondering where she managed to scrouge up a working camera.

It’s hardly been a few months since Humanity pulled itself out of the rubble of an unrecognisable Earth.

Word of the Apocalypse, its aftermath and the reasons behind it spread like wildfire – words that originated from your mouth, at the behest of the Four Horsemen, all of whom agreed that you’d make a fine ambassador for your species.

Death made it apparent that he and his siblings thought very highly of you after your involvement in clearing War’s name and surviving trials no human ever had before.

You’re starting to wish they thought a little less of you now, though. This is the seventh ‘press conference’ you’ve been subjected to in the past month. That’s without all the one-to-one interviews you’d been forced into with world leaders, heads of national security, historians, religious leaders, scientist… The list goes on.

Today is just more of the same; a whole lot of reporters clamouring to quote you for their articles in cobbled-together newspapers that have finally begun to crop up around the globe.

At a glance, it would almost appear that you're standing on the steps alone. But upon further inspection, it isn't difficult to spot four, hulking figures eyeing the proceedings from the shadows.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: Death, Fury, Strife and War. Your guardians. And quite possibly the best friends you've ever had, no matter their quirks and social ineptness.

They've grown tired of the constant questions from your fellow humans, even Strife, and no doubt the only reason they're here at all today is to watch your back, despite how often you try to tell them that they don't have to worry about you.

You might as well be throwing words at a brick wall and expecting it to break.

In the corner of your eye, there’s another flash, and a split second where your heart starts to sink at the prospect of yet another photograph circling the papers. However, in less than a blink, something smacks into your abdomen with a dull, wet ‘thwack,’ forcing you to stumble onto your backfoot.

Startled, you drop your mouth open and look out at the crowd, dimly wondering why one of them had thrown something at you…

A rock, perhaps?

Strange…

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s an explosion of motion all around you.

From one moment to the next, War hauls his immense bulk in front of you, dousing you in his shadow as he rips Chaoseater from its scabbard and swings the terrible sword out in front of him, shoulders bristling with a rage you can’t yet place.

At almost the exact same time, Strife appears as if from nowhere to your right, roaring like a wild beast and, to your horror, whipping Mercy and Redemption out of their holsters and pointing them out at the anxious crowd.

A woman screams, loud and shrill enough to hurt your ears, sending blood coursing through them until you’re left grimacing at the sound, only dimly aware of the tiny burn blossoming to life in your abdomen, just beneath your left breast.

No sooner have the brothers locked their legs rigidly into place than someone fills the space behind you– Fury, if the warm body pressing a little too firmly into your back is any indication.

“Strife! The rooftops!” she shouts urgently, and you can’t help but grimace again as her voice thrums through your head like a claxon.

Bewildered. you twist yourself sideways, meeting the stare of the last Horseman, Death. He was the furthest away when the rock hit you, though now he seems to warp through the air towards you with the grace and swiftness of a shadow moving across the square, and all the ferocity of a bull charging down its quarry.

Your mouth hangs open, lips twitching as the burn in your chest grows as if an insect has lodged its stinger inside your skin, and you’re about to ask what in the world they think they’re doing when you pull in a breath.

All at once, your chest hitches painfully, and you hurry to throw a hand over your mouth to catch the hacking cough that takes you by surprise. You pull a face at the sensation of thick saliva spattering against your palm.

It had been a sunny day not moments ago, but as Death approaches from your left, the temperature around you plummets by a staggering degree, as if you’ve been cast into the eye of a polar storm. Growing increasingly alarmed by the second, you pull in a smaller breath, one that rattles and wheezes in its way in, but doesn’t quite manage to fill your lungs as you move your hand away to call Death’s name.

The last thing you expect to see when you briefly glance down is the splatter of rich, glistening blood freckling the previously unblemished skin of your palm.

It’s only then that the thought occurs to you; it may not have been a rock at all…

“Death?” you whimper shakily, lowering your trembling hand and touching your fingertips gingerly to the spot on your torso that’s beginning to feel even worse, as though instead of an insect, a lit cigarette has been jammed against your skin with no signs of cooling.

You’d flinch away from the sensation were you not being tightly boxed in on every side by four, bridling forces of nature.

The eldest of them, Death, is upon you in an instant, dragging the shadows of buildings along in his wake as if, for just a moment, the darkness itself is beholden to none but him.

There’s a fire raging in the Horseman’s wide and simmering eyes that contradicts the icy hands that reach out to catch you by your shoulders when you take a faltering step towards him, only to crumple as the numbness in your legs makes itself apparent.

A familiar chill pours down your spine. One you’re all-too familiar with.

They promised you had nothing to be afraid of, not while you have Four of them in your corner.

But you can’t help it.

Right now, as War bellows a thunderous battle-cry out at some unknown recipient, and the breaths start to leave you in great clouds of billowing, white air, you’re scared.

---

‘No, no, no, NO! NO!’

Death’s ever-churning mind howls with outrage and disbelief, even if his lips remain tightly sealed beneath his bone-mask as he holds you upright by your shoulders, suspending you an inch above the ground in his haste to scan you for injury.

He’s mutely aware that the crowd of humans have already begun to scatter, though whether they’ve been driven away by the Horsemen’s sudden act of aggression or the culprit who has just made a foolish attempt on your life, Death can’t be bothered to guess.

He knows… As soon as he caught the flash from a broken window that overlooks the city hall, he knew. And he knows, for the rest of his wretched existence, that he’ll be trying to atone for standing too far away to reach you in time. For growing complacent.

They've all grown complacent, though he’ll shoulder the blame for his siblings because they – however unwittingly – follow by his example.

He thought this would be safe.

You weren’t supposed to get hurt, this was just another question-and-answer session you’ve done dozens of times before. Curious humans seeking gaps in their knowledge from you.

Who in their right mind would dare, would even have the nerve to try and hurt the human who has been so obviously afforded protection by the Four? Not even Samael, arguably their strongest adversary, would think twice before attempting to antagonise the Horsemen.

He can feel your warm breaths hitting the exposed skin of his sternum as he clings to you, rolling his eyes down until he spies the patch of crimson blooming outwards underneath your quivering hand.

The acrid stench of blood – your blood – is quick to slip between the cracks of his mask and into his unwilling nostrils.

Death’s muscles bunch at the intrusion and he clamps his gnashing teeth down on the primal growl that tries to escape through them.

He’s aware that at any moment, his siblings are going to catch the same scent on the wind, and it’ll be all he can do to stop them from levelling the entire city, just to ensure that your would-be killer doesn’t get away. Hell, it’s all he can currently do to keep his own Reaper Form from tearing itself loose and raking up the souls of any human in the vicinity.

As unhappy as his siblings already are though, they’re about to raise merry Hell when he makes his next announcement.

“She’s been shot,” he spits, pulling the metaphorical trigger on three, loaded guns.

As if from nowhere, a maelstrom whips up around Strife, who only just manages to lurch sideways far enough to spare you and his siblings from being crushed as he erupts into the titanic, armoured beast; Anarchy, shaking out his mane and tipping his horned head back to screech up at the sky.

Steeling himself against your sudden whimpers of alarm, Death barks, “Seventh story window to the North. Go!”

And without needing any further spurring on, Anarchy launches himself into a gallop across the street, leaping up to latch his monstrous claws into the wall of the building and hauling himself straight up the side of it, hand over hand.

War and Fury don’t look as though they’ll be far behind their brother, but Death’s voice is enough to still them before they too can unleash their true forms and give chase.

“Fury.”

Snarling, his sister whips around towards him, her expression faltering when she sees how carefully he slides his arms beneath your knees and hoists you off your feet, cradling you against his unforgiving chest.

“Rampage is the fastest of our horses,” he continues, “Find Azrael, meet us at Y/n’s home.”

She looks as though she’s about to argue, far more interested in joining Strife to enact some well-deserved vengeance in your honour, but another glance at you reminds her that this isn’t the time for personal vendettas.

Fiery hair bobs as she gives a resolute nod, then turns on her heel and raises a fist in the air. “Rampage! To me!”

Death’s attention flits back to you, secure in the knowledge that at least two of his siblings have been distracted from going on the warpath.

Speaking of…

“Brother… Is she...?” War’s voice has dipped and bowed with rage, lending him the cadence of a beast.

Before he can say another word, Death speaks, his magics flaring about him like coiling snakes, though is tone is deceptively calm. “War, I need you to guard us as we ride.”

Without another word, the Horsemen summon their steeds, and Death is forced to relinquish you to War for a second whilst he hauls himself into Despair’s saddle, immediately reaching to take you again when his brother gently lifts you towards him. You scream as he does, trying to curl in on yourself until you’re deposited in the saddle between Death’s sturdy thighs.

Then, in a moment so rare, not even his siblings can remember the last time they saw it, Death slips his hand underneath yours, trying not to let his stomach squeeze at the feeling of your fingers latching onto his. He meets your eyes, loathing the wide, terrible pain that’s been placed inside them.

Pain has no place in your life, not so long as they’re here to protect you from it.

“Not yet,” he breathes, damn-near begs, spurring Despair into a thunderous gallop with Ruin snorting wildly at his heels.

----------

It’s the agony that wakes you in the end, a raging hellfire that ignites in your chest as you startle to consciousness, never recalling how you’d come to be unconscious in the first place.

As if the unexpected pain weren’t bad enough, your heartbeat thuds strongly in your ears, which are ringing with the shouts of several, booming voices, all far too close and spilling over one another in a furious rush, leaving you feeling as though you’ve been placed inside an amphitheatre.

“- the Hell wasn’t someone watching the buildings!?” Fury’s voice, easily distinguishable from her brothers’ and absolutely drenched in her namesake.

Gritting your teeth, you screw your face up when Strife almost roars back, “Keep lookin’ at me when you say that, and I might start thinkin’ you’re blaming me for this!”

“Perhaps I am! You’re the firearms expert, as you so often like to remind us!”

“Why the Hell should that mean-!?” He cuts himself off midsentence, granting you a second of relief before he promptly redirects his attention to one of his other siblings. “WAR! If you don’t stop pacing, you’re going out the goddamn window!”

Ah, you wince, so that wasn’t your heart beating in your ears.

War’s thundering footfalls come to an abrupt halt somewhere to your right, and he promptly responds to his brother’s threat with a rumbling growl, the kind that emanates straight from his chest and spills across the room like a roll of thunder.

They’re fighting about something…. Which isn’t unusual. But lately, they’ve been getting better at not doing it around you.

God your chest hurts. What the Hell happened?

“Mmgh, ugh…” You feel like you need a crowbar to pry your eyelids apart, but at least the pitiful sound you made is enough to stop their incessant bickering.

A new problem arises though, when they instantly start to exclaim anew.

“She’s awake!” Strife gushes.

“I can see that for myself,” Fury sighs, though not without a hint of relieved laughter.

War’s relief is quieter, but no less palpable.

Through the gaps in your eyelids, you spot a flash of red surging towards you as you try to heave yourself upright, but not a moment later, a strong, uncompromising gauntlet engulfs your shoulder, pushing you down to lay flat on your back.

“Stay there,” War’s baritone thrums, as gentle as you’ve ever heard it, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Tears of pain are already trailing down your cheeks, but you suppose he means you’ll make it worse. Blinking to clear your vision, you peer up at the three, titanic figures looming over your head.

Strife’s eyes are the first you meet, glowing like raw gold from beneath his silver helm. They pinch at the corners, a telltale sign that he’s smiling under there. “H-hey, gorgeous,” he swallows thickly as if he’s about to choke, “Glad to see you’re awake again… Scared the Hell out of us back there, you know.”

You know it must have been bad if he’s admitting to fear.

“How’re you feeling.”

Before you can open your mouth to tell him that it feels as if your chest is being split in two, Fury scoffs, turning to shoot Strife a scathing look.

“She was shot, you fool. How do you think she’s feeling?”

“Sh-shot?” you croak, once more attempting to sit up, but with War’s gauntlet pinning you in place, you only succeed in squirming weakly on the-… Are you on your bed?

Your breath starts picking up, throat bone-dry as more tears spill down your cheeks. “I was shot?”

To her credit, Fury swiftly clamps her jaw shut, biting her lip and looking at least a little ashamed for blurting that out. War emits a troubled hum whilst Strife hurries to reassure you.

“Hey, hey,” he hushes, reaching out to drop his enormous hand over the top of yours, “It’s over. It’s over now. Azrael fixed you up. You’re okay.” There’s conviction in his words, but you don’t know if he’s trying to convince himself or you.

You roll your neck down slightly to look him over, and it’s only now that you see the blood smeared across his chest plate.

With a sharp gasp, your heart rate skyrockets.

War follows your wide-eyed stare and grumbles, “I told you to wash that off…”

Glancing down at himself, Strife quickly snaps his head up to offer you a shake of his head. “No, no, don’t worry about that. It’s not your blood.”

Despite his efforts, this does little to reassure you.

“It’s yours!?” you bleat.

“Nah, ain’t mine either. S’from the guy who shot you.”

Your abdomen squeezes in protest as you strain out, “Strife! You killed someone!?”

For a moment, he falls silent. All of them do, flicking pointed glances between one another as a creeping chill begins to seep inside the room, reaching your skin even under the blankets that have been tucked around your neck.

“I gave the order.”

All eyes dart to the open door of your bedroom. You can’t help the aborted breath you draw in when you see Death filling the wooden frame.

His bulging shoulders heave up and down slowly, and that dark, brooding stare is adhered to your face, causing you to squirm uncomfortably as if you mean to escape it.

“Finally decided to stop beating yourself up, have you?” Fury mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Death so frosty, you could swear you see her shiver.

“But… but I don’t understand?” you wheeze, furrowing your brow wearily and shifting to try and ease the ache in your lungs, “What do you mean you gave the order?”

“Some fool human made an attempt on your life,” War supplies, “Strife did what we all wished we could do.”

Once again, you try to sit up, and once again the weight of War’s gauntlet stops you.

Grunting, you argue, “But, you can’t… kill someone just because-!”

“-Because what?” Death snaps, stalking towards the bed an effectively silencing you in a heartbeat, “Because an overconfident zealot thought you deserved to die simply because you spoke a truth that didn’t align with his doctrines?”

He may be the shortest of the Horsemen, but that doesn’t mean that Death isn’t several feet taller than you, able to loom over your bed like a storm cloud.

“Were we to stand idly by whilst one of our own was threatened?”

You glance up at the others, taken aback by the ferocious, steadfast frowns on War and Fury’s expressions, and the familiar glint of steel in Strife’s eyes. Not one of them are contending Death’s bold declaration.

That you’re one of theirs.

It’s a hell of a claim to come from the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Ancient Nephilim of legend, laying claim to a human?

You wet your lips, but a response doesn’t come.

Death, however, seems only too ready to fill the space of your silence.

In a single, fluid motion, he lowers himself onto one knee beside your bed, and that action in itself is as poignant as his words.

Death never kneels.

The other three don’t look half as surprised as you’re sure you must, not even when their eldest, their leader, reaches out, hesitates, then rests the tips of his cold fingers gently under your jawline, directly over your pulse.

Wide-eyed, you can only stare into the sockets of his mask, breathing shallowly, missing the way his shoulders slump at the sensation of a strong, steady throb beneath his fingertips.

“You’re under our protection,” he states matter-of-factly, backed up by a concurring grunt from War on the other side of the bed, “And when the Horsemen have your back, nobody touches you. Is that understood?”

You press your lips together, both horrified and equally humbled that you could have earned the devotion of such powerful, ethereal beings.

Holding your gaze, Death firmly repeats, “Nobody.”

You still have questions. No end of them. But right now, frightened, hurt, and vulnerable, you’re wrenching heart seeks safety in one of the few places you know can offer it.

It hurts to raise your left arm, but you bite down hard on your tongue and slip your hand around what you can of Death’s solid neck.

The first sob escapes you when he leans towards you, pretending to be guided by your pitiable strength until you can wrap more of your arm around the back of his shoulders and push your damp face into the column of his throat, shivering slightly from the chill on his skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper against him, feeling his muscles turn lax underneath your touch.

In response, the Horseman nudges his mask closer to your ear and in a whisper that’s meant for you alone, he utters, “You’re not the one with anything to be sorry for…”

Unseen by you, the ancient Nephilim’s eyes glare holes through each of his siblings, daring one of them to comment on his moment of rare, uncharacteristic indulgence.

Per the norm, Strife is the one who struggles to keep his mouth shut.

“Aw, how come Death gets a hug?” Strife whinges petulantly, “He doesn’t even like ‘em.”

“And you believed him when he told you that?” Fury snickers.

On the bed, your grip just tightens around your guardian’s neck as his protective hand lays gingerly against your back, cold fingertips drinking up the warmth of your human body with a reverence known only to Death.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #reader #whump #angst #protective Horsemen #fluff #commission

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sanctus-ingenium · 7 months

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i answer your asks vol... 6?

This one made me actually consider how they balance the humours beyond just a simply "they scour it out". Because sometimes a holy beast gets 'sick' and it's not necessarily related to any sort of tissue growth, it's more often a mechanical fault and because the beast is considered to be alive, he is then therefore 'sick'. So how do we deal with this? An enginesmith will make the necessary repairs, but sometimes the sickness is related to environmental conditions. The four humours are arranged on a scale like this:

A mechanical fault associated with being too hot and dry could be something like a lack of lubrication on moving machine parts. So this would be considered the reason for a production of yellow bile (excess of yellow bile, btw, was what Pantera was diagnosed with on his last outing). Whether or not the bile is literal or more symbolic depends on the case. Anyway this was the reason Pantera is associated with fire (originally, when I was designing them all) and Leun, diametrically opposite, is associated with phlegm, water, acid, etc.

But anyway, the way to fix these imbalances in hot/cold/wet/dry is to simply reduce whichever one is excessive. In practice, keeping holy beasts maintained even when they're not out on a crusade is a full time job for an army of workers, where the atmospheric conditions need to be as neutral as possible. Too wet and you've got rust, too dry and the metal fatigues, to hot and it might warp and break, too cold and the joints won't fit properly, etc etc. Although the enginesmiths view this through a lens of The Four Humours, it's also just good practice to try to keep things balanced.

Btw while they do cure an excess of blood by bleeding the holy beast, they don't make leeches big enough :'(

There are illustrated representations of dragons that are pretty traditionally dragony (typically a winged serpent with many tails representing the stinging tendrils). These are added to drawings and art as a catch-all symbol for a conscious and targeted Evil. The laity, which is very devout, is unlikely to associate dragons with resistance - dragons cause a lot of damage too, and those stinging barbs will kill you just from the trauma of the impalement before the venom even has a chance to (unless you just get grazed, in which case.. the venom will paralyse you. then kill you)

So active rebellions/civil wars/wars of succession have occurred many times. The subjugated Midaean nation/territory (depending on who you ask) rallies around their beloved Saint Lycaon, a wolf. Flags and signs depicting a wolf devouring a crocodile/a lion/whatever holy beast currently tops the hierarchy of the church would be more likely. Rebellion itself is rarely black and white and as neat as picking a symbol the church hates. It is more likely people would pick a symbol that they love. Outside of Midea, the Mezian empire might not be at its peak but it also has not given its own citizens and laity a reason to take up arms against it.

at the start of the story, at least

awesome questions thank you @curious-sootball !

So the nerve cords inside the vertebrae are artificial, but they still perform the same physiological function as a real spinal column. They interface with a knight's dialogue. This produces an incredible amount of heat - this is why the spines are often exposed, even though that might be a point of vulnerability. The spinous processes in particular are very effective heat sinks.

But the tail? In most cases we don't need the tail, really. The spinal column ends at the base of the pelvis. The tail is cropped for most beasts on purpose - we don't need this thing dangling around and becoming entangled, and it has no machinery around it to act as replacement muscles so it couldn't move even if they wanted it to. Krokodilos's tail is the exception and it's just extremely heavy for not much pay off. That's a lot of additional engines we gotta maintain.

So the tail tends to be abandoned. The bones are kept of course but not mounted on the chassis where they're not needed. With no nerve cord running through them they don't run hot either so they won't disperse heat all that well.

Now for replacing bones... they don't. The bones that exist in the chassis are the bare minimum needed to perform the required functions - basic movement. They don't have ribs, they often don't have phalanges. A skull is there to complete the nerve cord - but all you need of that skull is the occipital bone. Nothing more.

If they break a leg, it might be repaired using screw and plate fixation. The bone may deign to knit together (enginesmiths swear that they don't allow tissue growth ever.. but sometimes you need some periosteum. Don't tell the bishops). But if it gets crushed? That's the holy beast done, scrap heap time. The majority of all holy beasts that have ever existed have already broken down and been decommissioned at the start of this story - we only have seven left (eight if you count krokodilos). Krokodilos is an unusual case because he is not dead, so they can't just hold a state funeral and add his heart engine block to the big hall of old hearts in the cathedral. He's sleeping.

But he's the exception. Take Saint Guinefort - dead as a doornail. He had a full funeral, his heart was put in the hall and his body was [redacted] like they do with all dead holy beasts. And then he was [redacted] and now our pal "Sir Victory" with the metal arm uses him as Nosewyse. Circle of life.

I think sidecar motorcycle is a pretty apt way of looking at him lmao. You don't wanna know how many people he's cooked.

Hey there! So I know I've mentioned they are similar to pterosaurs but they are not related to them at all. In fact they are cetaceans :) Later art I did of them plays up the mammal traits a bit more. Check out these nipples

However it is a fact that they are not closely related to modern cetaceans - as in, they did not evolve from modern whales and dolphins, but belong to a side branch that diverged relatively early, around the same time dragons were leaving the water for the skies. That art is quite old too, from before I kind of nailed it all down, so if I drew them now I would remove the more derived traits (i.e the single blowhole, the tail flukes, etc) and tidy it up a little. They diverged from the lineage that would become modern whales before the pelvic limbs were lost. I originally depict them having the crowbar-like claws on their feet to lever skin parasites off the dragon, but i think they are more likely to not use their feet much at all, and are more likely to use their single huge beak-like tooth to do the job instead. They cannot walk on flat surfaces.

Only insects and, specifically, winged insects :) I know it would be really cool to have various other giant arthropods but milennia ago, when they crossed into Thera for the first time, insects were the only fliers. And there is no other way to get over the mountain range quickly enough for it not to kill you. The mountain range in which the endless city sits is completely and 100% devoid of life. A journey on foot for a tiny bug would be next to impossible - they are more likely to starve or simply turn around and go back to where the food is.

The winged insects, otoh, can cross the range in a day or less, if the breeze is flowing right. And they would find plants already there in Thera - also solely wind-dispersed species from the previous time the mountains arrived and linked the world with Earth. The insects didn't really come by choice, sometimes the wind just blows the wrong way, but they definitely got lucky.

There are wingless insects in Thera today but only because they lost that trait over time (like ants or larviform female beetles). They have managed to colonise every reasonable habitat, including the sea (though the sea is not very salty) and have developed into a lot of very strange forms which might be unrecognisable to us. But a lot of them just got bigger and smarter.

This time round, in the period of time the story is set (early 1900s on earth), the mountains appeared and new animals crossed over who were not insects. Birds have become invasive in Thera, happily taking advantage of the smaller insect species who are completely unprepared for this new threat. There are also some wind-dispersed spiders hanging out now.

EDIT: oh i forgor the parasites on the flying insects that first colonised thera... yes they would have mites and horsehair worms and things of that nature

#setting: mez #setting: thera #i wrote so much <3 read it

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christinesficrecs · 6 months

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Hello! I've been reading a lot of the fics you rec. I was wondering if you have any more fics that are like or are similar to Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt on a03? That's my favorite fanfic and would greatly appreciate it, please and thank you!

Waiting is completely brilliant!! It deserves to be your favorite. ❤️ Here are a few more feral/full wolf Derek fics that I love.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 81K

Not wanting to think on it took much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

“Not too close, he bites.”

Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

He looked extremely displeased.

The One With The Scottish Wolf Lord by Stoney | 11.7K | Explicit

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#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #youareperfection #feral derek #full wolf derek

110 notes · View notes

wandabear · 9 months

Text

WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER

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Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. Based on Yellowjackets

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.

Author's Notes: A little advice? Please, listen to 'Lighting crashes' when you start 'NOW'.

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Warnings: death, angst, fluff. This is the finale.

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CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER EIGHT

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BEFORE

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The following months were as hard as they expected. Surviving became harder and painful, especially for their spirits. The girls could barely move in that cabin that was surrounded by snow.

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Despite the care of his sister and friends, Pietro's pneumonia ended his life after fighting for weeks.

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Desolation was all Wanda knew for a long time, but thanks to the support of Y/N and the girls, she was able to move on as the months went by. Guilt choked her for a long time until she realized it was beyond what she could do. The death of her twin brother hurt Wanda in the depths of her heart. Soon they will die too.

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But the one who didn't seem to find peace was Y/N; inside her, the guilt grew more and more. Pietro died to save her, and now she was there. Leading a group of hopeless girls trying to survive another day, and in the only way they could.

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Finally the snow disappears, allowing them to bloom with spring, revitalizing their spirits. Of course, that didn't mean they were going to be saved, they had all lost that hope a long time ago. They were just a bunch of girls when before they were a huge team.

But when they least expected it, one day, a small plane flew over that lake, noticing the signals they sent. They all screamed and made as much noise as possible to be seen until Y/N fired the flare with a look full of hope.

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They will return home.

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“The investigation into the cause of the accident remains preliminary.” One of the journalists commented live along with many more outside the New Jersey airport room. “The crash site was over 600 miles north.”

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But before the journalist could continue, the doors opened and some hooded girls left there to go to the truck parked outside. The policemen tried to shield them from the journalists who charged at them like wild beasts thirsty for blood.

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“Here they come!” One of the reporters yelled. “Let's go!”

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The reporters were clamoring for answers, the camera's shutters clicking every second; the despair on the faces of those girls. Wanda's green eyes widened, completely terrified. Taking care of her, Y/N and Natasha took and tried to get their friends out of that place.

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“Can you tell us anything?” One of them was trying to get the mic closer to Jules, but Natasha just pushed him. “Natasha, what happened?!”

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“Y/N, Who survived?!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “How did you survive the cold?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Wanda! Where’s your brother?!”

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“How'd you survive for so long?”

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“What happened to the rest?”

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“Tell us something... anything!”

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All those questions haunted them all the way to the police station. Some cried with happiness while others were simply anxious to see their families again.

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The first to arrive were Wanda's parents, who hugged the brunette with so much love and support. Between tears and various affectionate words, they celebrated her return but also mourned the loss of Pietro. Oleg said that they could talk about it later, that the important thing now was to go home.

Everyone's parents came for them, including Natasha and Alexei, the big man ran up and hugged Nat and Yelena like a huge protective bear.

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Everyone was again surrounded by their loved ones, except Y/N and Jules who called home several times but no one came. Auntie Claire never left the house alone unless she was working.

The black-haired girl hung up the public phone and walked towards Y/N in that police station.

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“I tried it like six times.” Jules sighed and sat down next to Y/N, who was looking worriedly towards the door. Why was her aunt taking so long?

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“Me too, I called Claire and mom's house but got nothing.” Y/N sighed and slumped back in the seat. She looked around, noticing how Nat and her parents were approaching them.

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“Hello, girls. We were thinking… Do you want us to take you home?” Alexei offered with a warm look. Melina nodded quickly, delighted with the idea. They always adored those two, they were an odd couple but really good people.

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“Umh… we're actually hoping that-” Jules tried to say but then swallowed hard. “Actually, I would like to know… my mother is not answering the phone. Did mom say that she would come later or something?”

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At that moment, the Maximoffs, who were also nearby, approached standing on one side of the Romanoff’s.

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“Everything's okay?” Oleg asked curiously, noticing how the girls were getting more and more nervous.

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“Mr. Maximoff… My aunt isn't answering the phone. Do you know if she will come?” Y/N stood up, looking at the man with concern. “I was thinking maybe you knew because you’re neighbors.”

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“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Maximoff said with sadness, as did Natasha's parents. “Has no one told you?”

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“You don't know yet?” Melina murmured worriedly.

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“Tell us what?” Jules asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the worst. “Please, tell us what?”

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“Oh, girls.” Melina placed a hand on both of their shoulders and sighed. “I think you'd better come with us, okay?”

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“I would like to stay, I don't want my mom to come and not see us here. She will freak out.” Jules said quickly, taking a step back. Of course, she could tell that they had some bad news to give them and she was completely refusing to receive it.

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“Mama... What's wrong?” Natasha frowned, standing next to them.

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“Sweetie…” Melina started and then looked around the other parents, getting their approval. They deserved to understand why Claire hadn't arrived. They deserved the truth, maybe not in that way, but the girls didn't seem to accept leaving without an answer. “Claire had a heart attack some time ago.”

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“She died.” Iryna took courage when saying those words, feeling a deep sadness when she saw how tears formed in the eyes of those girls. “She had a heart attack when the plane crash happened. I’m so sorry.”

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Shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks, Y/N was not willing to hear that. Of course she wasn't going to accept it.

She wasn’t going to accept the death of the person who cared for her all her fucking life, after having seen suffering and death in the Canadian taiga.

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“That's not true, she wouldn't leave us.” Y/N narrowed her eyes, taking a more defensive position due to the pain. Like a wounded animal.

Y/N just hugged Jules, who just started crying uncontrollably.

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Feeling enormously sorry for them, their friends tried to comfort them and the adults just decided to give them the necessary space for it.

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“You can come with us if you want.” Alexei offered them, hugging Y/N and Jules for some time. Claire and Melina had always been good friends, that's how she met Nat.

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“I- I don’t know.” Jules stammered through tears, she couldn't even speak. “I just want to know what happened. I just want my mom, I wanna go home-”

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“Please, at least for tonight. Come with us, okay?” Melina asked both of them, taking their hands.

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“You know that you count on us for whatever you need.” Iryna, Wanda's mother, offered with immense tenderness. Wanda nodded quickly.

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After a moment, Jules nodded and took a step forward, realizing that her mother wasn't coming. Her mom passed away a long time ago and she just wanted to know why.

But unlike Jules, Y/N couldn't just leave it like that. The pain inside began to consume her, the rage and the anger that she felt against this world so difficult and destructive. How is it possible? After suffering so much. This was messed up.

Y/N clenched her fists tightly.

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“Y/N?” Wanda noticed the tension in her girlfriend and approached her, taking Y/N’s fist in her hands. She didn't care that her parents saw it, Wanda loved that girl with all her heart. “Please, come with us.”

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Green eyes looked at Y/N's, and even though that connection was still there, something was broken in Y/N. And she knew something was off.

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“I just-” Unable to speak of what she felt or accept it, Y/N swallowed and moved away from her, letting go of the brunette's hand. “I have to get out of here.”

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Y/N took a few steps back, ready to escape.

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“I’m coming with you.” Wanda followed her steps but Y/N got in the way, shaking her head.

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“No.” She said quickly, noticing the disappointment in her girlfriend's eyes. And yet, despite that, Y/N decided to swallow hard and move on. “Stay with your family.”

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She couldn't deal with all of this right now, she needed to find some way to escape. “Just… stay.”

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Y/N walked away leaving the sokovian behind. Leaving the police station, not knowing where to go, she just started walking without a destination. Not knowing that that moment would be a terrible break in her life, and in the lives of those who loved her.

NOW

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Lightning Crashes

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The hospital doors opened, letting in a desperate woman looking for answers. Her eyes showed the uncertainty and desolation she felt. The place was full of injured people, apparently there was a pretty serious accident nearby. Wanda came after her, trying to keep up.

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“Excuse me? Excuse me!” y/n approached the receptionist, who seemed to be quite busy with all the cases coming in. “I’m looking for Julia Y/L/N. She works here, she's a doctor.”

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“Excuse me, right now I can't-” The receptionist muttered trying to help many people at once, Y/N was about to lose her mind when a familiar voice made them turn around.

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“Y/N? Come with me.” When she turned around, Y/N sighed, finally seeing a familiar face. Christine, one of Jules's coworkers in the hospital, took her arm and led them to another room.

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Y/N quickened the step, noticing the woman's hurry. “Christine, what's going on? They called me saying I should come-”

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“I know.” Christine stopped when they got out of the operating room. Wanda frowned, this was not a delivery room. It was the damn operating room. “We don’t have time so… Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like I have to because she's my co-worker and a good friend, and I owe her so much.”

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Christine swallowed hard, trying to be strong. In a job like this, she had often been the bearer of bad news but she had never had a case so close to her.

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“As you can see, there was a chain reaction crash, we have many injured.” The redhead took a cap and disposable scrub and handed it to her. “Jules and Natasha were there, a van crashed into their car when they were coming here because her water broke two hours ago.”

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Wanda covered her mouth, terrified. But full of innocence, Y/N nodded and looked around her. “Okay, where are they?”

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“Y/N…” Wanda reached out to take her hand.

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Christine cleared her throat, trying to be professional and not shed a tear. “Natasha... she died instantly.”

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Her face paled. Wanda just tried to sit in the nearest chair, feeling horrible dizziness.

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“What? No.” Shocked, it’s all Y/N could say. Tears filled her eyes. “No, that’s not possible. She's fine. She's going to be fine!”

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“I know you're in shock right now and it hurts, but I need you to pay attention to what I'm going to tell you.” Christine put a hand on her shoulder. “Julia is injured, a piece of metal went through her shoulder, and she needs you to be present at the birth.” She sighed. “She doesn't want general anesthesia, so... please put this on and come with me.”

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But Y/N just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her face pale, the ringing in the ears again. “I- I don’t know how to do it.”

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“You're the only family she has right now. She needs you, she doesn't know that Natasha died.” Christine persisted, hoping Y/N would do it. “She’s having the baby, you must give her strength to stay with us. Okay?”

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Wanda approached and hugged her for a moment, showing her that she was not alone. “You can handle this, detka.”

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Y/N just nodded quickly, like an innocent child without understanding anything that was happening around her. She put on those clothes and entered the room with Christine.

Swallowing, Y/N blinked as the lights from the operating room blinded her for a second. Several doctors were around Jules, who was already in labor.

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“You're dilated enough now, this baby is coming right now.” One of the doctors said.

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“I know, I can fucking feel it!” Jules grunted and narrowed her eyes, the pain was too much. Sweat and tears poured down her face, a bit bruised, but nothing serious for now.

Seeing Jules like that, Y/N left that state of shock to walk towards her and take her hand. “Hey, sis… are you ready to bring the little bee into this world?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules smiled a bit exhausted, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently. “Hey you… I'm ready to kill Strange when I get out of here.”

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“Now, push!”

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“Push, Jules.” Y/N looked at her and nodded, giving her all the strength she needed. Jules took a deep breath, then pushed hard, squeezing her sister's hand. The pain is exponentially intolerable.

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“Oh my god!” She screamed. Her jaw tensed as did every muscle in her body. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It's going great, it's almost ready... Now it’s going to be harder, but we need it, okay? Push!”

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Y/N stayed by her side every moment, smiling, crying, saying the most beautiful words of support.

Felt her hand about to break many times but she didn't care, feeling the pain as an ally to endure the moment.

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“You’re so brave, you know? This is really beautiful, Jules.” Y/N smiled tenderly and whispered in her ear. “You're doing great, I'm so proud of you. You’re going to be such a good mom.”

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The raven-haired girl nodded and took a deep breath, knowing she had to push again, but before reason came to her.

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You're going to be such a good mom.

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“Y/N?” Eyes brimming with tears, Jules turned to look her in the eye. “Where's Natasha?”

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Y/N didn't know what to say, just swallowed and cradled Jules's hand in hers, she didn't know anything. No one told her anything so that her condition wouldn't worsen, but how could Y/N hide something like that from her sister?

The heartbreaking silence caught them again like a wild beast. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N… Please tell me, where is Nat?” Jules pleaded with a shaky voice. This time, tears of sadness began to fall down her face.

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Y/N sniffled. “She… Natasha did not survive the crash. I'm sorry.”

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Jules brown eyes only expressed deep, heartbreaking sadness.

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“No… God, no… She can't be dead, I still feel her here.” Jules begged and placed a hand on her chest; they both began to cry together before the loss. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The loss of a best friend and of a soulmate. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“PUSH!” The doctor's requests became more and more insistent, they were the last pushes.

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In a scream of pure pain, physical and especially emotional, the woman screamed, pushing harder than ever. Screamed because of the helplessness she felt, she screamed because of the injustice, she screamed because of her broken heart.

A heart that was beating wildly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I'm here with you, okay? You will never be alone. I love you.” Y/N reminded her over and over again, closing her eyes and giving Jules all the support in the world in that last push.

And after that, a hopeful cry made them both look at the doctor, who soon handed the little baby over to the nurse. After wrapping it in a blanket, Christine walked over to show the baby to them.

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“It's a beautiful girl.” Christine said tenderly seeing how Jules smiled completely in love, excited, destroyed. That beautiful, reddish baby who moved her hands desperately seeking connection.

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“Look at her… You’re a mom now.” Y/N smiled and kissed her sister's forehead, watching her niece with enormous tenderness. “Baby bumblebee is a girl, look at her.”

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“She’s beautiful… kinda looking like a red potato tho.” Jules laughed and leaned down to kiss her little girl's forehead gently. Jules closed her brown eyes for a moment, holding the baby against her chest so she could say some last words to her. That was it, all she needed.

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In soft whispers, she said the most beautiful things and the most beautiful promises that Y/N could have heard. And Y/N knew at that moment that this baby would never suffer the same that she suffered with her own mother.

Looking at that tiny adorably newborn, who now had their hearts forever.

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“Y/N…” Jules barely whispered, feeling her muscles begin to lose strength. That was the sad cue to give the little one to Y/N to hold. “You have to take care of her…”

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“Sure I will. With you, with Wanda and Yelena... We will all do it together.” Y/N held the little girl in her arms and nodded. She didn't even know how to hold a baby, but she tried. It was such a small thing in her hands, how was it possible?

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Jules swallowed and blinked rapidly, reaching out to take Y/N's arm. Her breathing seemed somewhat agitated, quite abnormal. “Y/N, look at me, promise me you'll take care of her.”

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“I promise. I swear.” Y/N nodded, not quite understanding what it meant.

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Smiling sadly but lovingly, Jules raised her hand to caress her sister's face. “You know I love you with all my heart, right? There’s no better person than you to do this… I'll be forever grateful.”

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“Do what? What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned.

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“Tell my little girl that we love her, okay? Always remind her of that. Her moms will always take care of her.” The woman sighed, her eyes closing but she fought with all her might to stay awake for a few more seconds. Please, God, just a few more seconds.

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Shaking her head, Y/N approached her sister. “You will tell her, okay? Just stay awake.”

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A screeching beep made Y/N jump, the little girl in her arms began to cry. ㅤㅤㅤ

“Jules, what's going on?” She tried to keep Jules awake, but the paleness on her face worried her even more. “CHRISTINE, WHAT’S WRONG?”

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“She's losing a lot of blood!” Christine hurried over so she could see what was happening. Sure enough, blood loss from childbirth was to blame.

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“I'm feeling a little tired.” Jules muttered tiredly. “Remember you promised.”

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“Please, don’t… don’t do this.” Y/N took her hand and began to cry, begging her to stay by her side. “Please, she needs you. I need you… You are all I have left. You're the only family I have left!” Y/N pleaded, sobbing.

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“I love you, Y/N/N. I'll always be with you.” She smiled at her one last time, finally allowing herself to rest.

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Crying inconsolably, Y/N felt fear, anguish and desolation destroying her.

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“She’s coding!”

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One of the nurses came over to take the baby away, telling Y/N that they should take her out now.

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“Where are they taking the baby? No, tell me! where is she going?” Y/N screamed in despair.

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Y/N put their hands to their head, completely overwhelmed by everything that is happening around her. The sounds, the screams, the crying.

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“No, no, no.” Y/N repeated over and over again, moving closer to Jules to try to wake her up, cup her face and talk to her.

One of the nurses reached out to pull Y/N away from her, but the woman struggled to hold on to her sister's body. It took three nurses to get her away from Jules, allowing them to start the defibrillator.

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“One, two.” Christine ordered before placing the paddles on Julia's chest. “One, two.”

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Y/N screamed inconsolably, seeing how they tried to save her sister's life but after several attempts, they only found that her heartbeat was no longer heard.

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“Come on, Julia! Stay with us!” Christine asked, trying many more times.

ㅤㅤㅤ But after a few minutes, they stopped. She was gone.

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“Fuck!” The doctor tossed the paddles aside, completely heartbroken.

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Lightning crashes, a new mother dies.

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But the one who was heartbroken was Y/N, watching her sister's body, taking slow steps towards her. But far from seeing that tender look, that adorable smile, she found just a pale and abandoned body.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Jules?” Y/N whimpered like a little girl, reaching out to take her hand. “Jules, no, please. Don’t leave me, please.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She allowed herself to stay by Jules' side for a while, venting all her pain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Time of death?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“04:30 AM”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Feeling like it was all a huge sadistic joke on the fucking universe. Auntie Claire was gone, but she still had Jules. A beautiful part of her aunt had remained in her.

Now Jules was gone, and all that remained of her was this little girl.

Completely numb, she left that room with a lost look. What had to be done now? Where to go? Y/N walked slowly down the hall, until Wanda finally saw her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Detka? What is it?” The sokovian asked desperately. Those red eyes showed that she had been crying for a long time over the loss of Natasha. “Is Jules okay? Are they both okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Still looking blank, Y/N murmured: “She died.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What? No!” Wanda shook her head, she couldn't believe all this.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“She died after giving birth.” Y/N swallowed. “I'm so sorry.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh my god.” Wanda burst into tears, holding on to the wall for a moment. “a-and the baby?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s a girl. She’s at the baby nursery now.” Finally coming out of her shock at seeing Wanda suffer like that, she went over to hug her. So tightly, allowing both of them to cry together. “What the hell is going on?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The hours passed, Y/N looked down, seeing her black coffee that she was holding in her hands. Wanda was on the phone with Yelena and Natasha's parents to explain the situation to them. Of course it was one of the most difficult moments of her life.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They’re going to fly from Ohio, going to the airport now.” Wanda sighed, walking over and putting her phone in her pocket. “Yelena was really pissed off, but I heard that Alexei was devastated. Melina too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Gently, she took her girlfriend's arm and rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm sorry you have to go through all this.” Y/N murmured, drinking that coffee that didn't even seem to save her this time.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You don't have to be sorry, they were my friends too. Our friends, our sisters.” Wanda sighed. “I love you, and I will always be by your side. I'll support you in everything.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N tilted her head to see Wanda and confirmed once more that this woman was the love of her life. That she had always been by her side, and she always would be.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It's all so unfair, you know? How is it possible?” Y/N swallowed hard so she wouldn't sob again. “How is it possible that we survived so much to end up like this?! Is this karma for what we did?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No, detka. Of course not.” Wanda cooed, hugging her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

A few minutes later, one of the nurses came out of the door and invited them inside. After agreeing to sign some papers and follow some steps, they approached the nursery ward, looking through that huge window at the adorable babies in their cribs.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N looked for the little girl somewhat worried, what if she wasn't there? Fear washed over her until she was finally able to recognize her, not far from them.

Wanda smiled as soon as she saw her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“She’s a beautiful baby.” The nurse smiled, showing them the test results. Everything was okay, the baby girl was healthy. “What's the little girl's name?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

That question clearly affected Y/N deeply, she justtried not to get emotional again. Those eyes were tired from crying.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They wanted to keep it as a surprise.” Wanda answered for her girlfriend, squeezing her arm in support. “They didn't get to tell us.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The nurse nodded sadly and was about to leave until Y/N spoke.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Natalia.” Y/N whispered. “Because… because their names were Natasha and Julia… and… i-if you mix the names… I think Natalia sums it up pretty well.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The nurse nodded, wrote down that name so she could put it on the bracelet that the baby would wear for the rest of the night. Natalia Romanoff Y/L/N.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Is it stupid?” Y/N whispered to Wanda, who just shook her head. “Do you think they would like it?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s a beautiful name, detka.” The brunette kissed her cheek. “Do you know what it means?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N just shook her head, trying not to pout.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It means ‘natale domini’, christmas day. A sweet name like Natalia will always remind her how loved she is, they'll love it.” Wanda hugged Y/N's, both watching that adorable baby. The nurse took Natalia in her arms and brought her closer so they could see her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Oh, she was adorable even yawning.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't know how to do this.” Y/N confessed quietly, completely terrified but ready to face that huge monster called fear.

ㅤㅤㅤ

And by her side, Y/N had the most important woman in the world. Wanda looked at her with those green eyes full of love, swearing her loyalty forever. “I will help you, detka, everything will be fine. You can do this.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Desperate and tired, Y/N moved from one side to the other holding that baby of barely eight weeks. She spent nights without being able to sleep well, completely in despair.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, Natalia. Stop crying.” Y/N begged, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from exploding. Little Natalia had been crying for a long time and nothing seemed to calm her down. Y/N was holding a bottle with the infant formula that the doctor recommended.

Y/N gently left the baby in the crib next to her favorite bear, but nothing happened. Natalia kept screaming even more, as if she was daring her lungs to explode.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You don't want to eat, your diaper is clean! What the hell do you want?!” Y/N yelled so tiredly, but after a few seconds she started crying next to the baby. “What do you want from me?! I miss and need them too!” Y/N sobbed.They both shared that moment of pain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Auntie Claire was gone. Jules was gone. Natasha was gone.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Now there was only that little baby left, that adorable little thing next to her and it wasn’t her fault for coming into a desolate world.

She was all Y/N had left of the people she loved the most. How not to be patient with that little bee? It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Y/N's either.

She allowed herself to cry for a moment and then wiped away her tears, taking Natalia in her arms again. “Now it's just the two of us, okay? They screwed us like that, we have to deal with it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Okay, let’s try something new…” Y/N walked to the window, looking around with the baby in her arms. She got a nice apartment some months ago. “Your grandma Claire used to sing this… she was such a fan, and your mama loved it too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I hear your voice. It's like an angel sighin'. I have no choice, I hear your voice… feels like flying. I close my eyes, Oh God, I think I'm fallin'...” She sang softly, like a lullaby. “Like a child, you whisper softly to me. You're in control, just like a child now I'm dancing.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Incredibly, the little girl began to calm down little by little. That heartbreaking cry now turned into A curious look, those little hands trying to catch Y/N's face.

Y/N smiled seeing this great progress, encouraging herself to move a little like a little dance. “It's like a dream… No end and no beginning. You're here with me, Natalia, it's like a dream… cause when you call my name, it's like a little prayer.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone. I hear you call my name and it feels like home.” Natalia moved her hands excitedly, watching every movement of Y/N's lips, even gurgling.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s it. You liked it, didn't you?” Finally achieving the first bond with the baby, Y/N let out a small laugh of happiness between tears. “I love you, Natalia… I will take care of you forever, even if I have to give my life for you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She kissed Nat’s forehead and continued rocking her for a while, noticing that now the girl was no longer trying to let go. She just relaxed in those soft arms, beginning to fall asleep until someone knocked on the door.

Y/N walked towards the door, meeting a worried Wanda on the other side.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I read your message, I came as soon as the twins left with Vision.” The brunette approached to kiss her then watched little Nat gurgling. “Everything's okay? What is it?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s from the past, now we are at peace.” Y/N smiled and took the bottle to see if Natalia wanted to try it. After a few seconds, the little girl accepted. “She was crying and I didn't understand what she wanted.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm proud, Y/N.” Wanda smiled tenderly. She took off her jacket and walked Y/N to her bedroom.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Can you stay with me?” Y/N begged with cute eyes and an adorable pout. “With us?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Biting her lower lip, watching the love of her life rocking that baby slowly, Wanda just nodded, feeling a strange sensation of familiarity and peace inside her. “Of course, my love.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Fifteen minutes later, they were both lying on the bed, watching as Natalia drank her bottle happily cuddling between them. ㅤㅤㅤ

"We've been waiting for you, now you are here. More perfect than I imagined, our house is now a nest. No matter where you go, sunlight shines on you.’

ㅤㅤㅤ

Surprising Y/N with her beautiful voice, Wanda smiled seeing that Natalia closed her cute eyes and relaxed with that lullaby, letting go of the bottle.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That was beautiful.” Y/N whispered, lost in the beauty of her beloved.ㅤㅤ Wanda smiled tenderly. “You are.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda gently leaned in to give her a short kiss, trying not to disturb the little girl.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So… How about we get a boat?” Y/N joked. Vision deposited the money into her bank account the day before, so everything was fine between them for now. “Mmm… no… College fund, right?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda bit her lips, trying not to laugh. “Yes, college fund… And pay our bills.”

ㅤㅤㅤ “And put a down payment on a boat.” Y/N teased again, settling between the huge pillows. Wanda did the same, taking Y/N’s hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We’re not getting a boat.” The sokovian whispered, closing her eyes a bit tired.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“But they're fun.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They're expensive.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re right.” Y/N grimaced and closed her eyes as well, feeling the exhaustion in her body overcome her little by little.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“College fund, pay our bills and some nice vacation on a beach.” Wanda smiled tenderly when she saw how Natalia was completely sleepy. “There's gotta be some fun in our lives.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I like that.” Y/N smiled sleepily. “I love you…”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Watching that adorable moment in front of her, Wanda knew that the answer to the question she was asking herself for a long time had already been answered.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you too, detka.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

But maybe it was time to go further. And although Y/N didn't know it, Wanda was ready to offer her to move in together. Why not?

“Okay, Natalia. Hold on tight.” Y/N said to the little girl as she adjusted the baby carrier on her chest. Little Natalia smiled tenderly and moved her little legs excited for her. “We're going on our first adventure.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

When little Natalia turned five months old, Wanda and Y/N found a nice place to live together. Of course the twins were delighted with the idea, because having a little sister for them was something really important.

Wanda explained to them the importance of taking care of Natalia and making her their family. But the twins didn't need explanations, they loved the little redhead already.

ㅤㅤㅤ

And slowly, Y/N learned to be a responsible parent.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She learned that loss didn’t mean having to destroy everything around her, and making Wanda happy and giving Natalia a better life was all she wanted.

Y/N learned how to deal with diapers as well as crying at night, or also with paranoia and fear of losing the little girl.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Sometimes she stayed watching her for a long time, thinking about how much she resembled to them. Natalia hated being around too many people and cheeky like Natasha, but she also was so warm like Jules.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you think she will like it?” Y/N asked the twins with some concern, showing them a small velvet box. A beautiful ring was waiting to be delivered to Wanda that night.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Little Natalia observed the ring with curiosity wanting to grab it so badly, with just a year she didn’t understand anything they said, but she could say things like: ‘Mamma' and 'mommy’.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“She will love it!” Billy grinned and Tommy nodded. They were both quite excited, and that made Y/N's heart beat faster. The twins have always been a great support.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Nodding, Y/N knew she had to take the biggest and most important step of her life.

And she did it, because the wedding was the most beautiful moment of their lives.

Wanda's tears of happiness and Y/N's huge happy smile showed it in the pictures. ㅤㅤㅤ

And of course she missed Natasha and Jules a lot, but Y/N knew that wherever they were, they would be happy for them.

Y/N and Yelena formed a much stronger bond, completely unconditional in the absence of their sisters. Both were clear that the important thing was also to give Natalia a beautiful family.

EIGHT YEARS LATER

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Natalia, your aunt Yelena is here!” Y/N's voice made the adorable redhead startle and leave her room, but not before grabbing her backpack.

Y/N and the blonde walked to the kitchen, where Wanda was baking some cookies.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You better take care of her.” Y/N pointed at the blonde and sat down at the table to enjoy some cocoa and cookies. “If you're going to take her fishing in Alexei’s boat, don't let her fall. She's learning to swim.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“She will master it soon.” Yelena arched an amused brow and stole one of the cookies, taking a bite. Of course, Y/N's serious look made her add, “I'm just kidding with you, Y/N Y/L/N. We'll just visit my parents and fish in the boat for a little while. Talk about stuff… that’s it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We know.” Y/N kissed Yelena’s cheek, just to annoy her even more. “I just like to annoy you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Ugh.” The blonde teased, wiping her cheek.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Here's something to eat, in case you don’t wanna buy something.” Wanda smiled when she saw them and took two lunch boxes and a box of fresh cookies. “Chicken paprikash, mac and cheese, your favorite I know, and cookies.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda Maximoff, you are a sweetheart.” Yelena sighed exaggeratedly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, this time trying to annoy Y/N.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N just giggled and tossed her a small chocolate chip.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Okay, it's time. I'll call you as soon as we get there, okay?” Yelena said goodbye to both and walked towards the door. “Let’s go, Natalia!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Coming!” An adorable eight-year-old girl ran down the stairs. She was a redhead, like Natasha and her eyes were light brown like Jules. Natalia was fierce, kinda sarcastic and brave, but also adorable, smart and kind.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The little girl approached Y/N, hugging her mother tight. “I’ll miss you, mom.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Smiling tenderly -and fighting not to turn into an overprotective bear- Y/N hugged her daughter for a moment. “Take good care of your aunt, okay? She’s crazy. Send some hugs to mama Melina and Alexei. Tell them we miss them.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, mom!” Natalia smiled toothly. “I'm going with Auntie Yelena, I love you both!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The little girl kissed Y/N's cheek and then ran to hug Wanda's waist, who kissed the little girl's forehead. “Be careful, okay? We love you, baby.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, mama!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Take care, kiddo!” Y/N got up to see how the girl ran towards the porch, meeting the blonde one. “Don't forget to call us, okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N remained watching the place, until Wanda hugged her from behind, snuggling up against her.

There was her little girl, ready to start a new adventure.

ㅤㅤㅤ

It didn't take long for them to decide to have another baby together. Wanda tried an IUI to become mothers and after one attempt, they miraculously managed to conceive a beautiful and healthy baby.

Y/N was quite nervous, fear and memories of her sister in the hospital haunted her, but little by little, Wanda made her understand that everything would be okay.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Nine months later, they both welcomed an adorable baby girl they named Luna Maximoff-Y/L/N.

The children were delighted, even though Natalia felt a bit insecure, when the tiny redhead saw her new sister she swore to take care of her forever. Forming an inseparable bond.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Smiling, seeing how Wanda held her little newborn daughter, singing a tender sokovian lullaby, Y/N knew that although life was sometimes hard, it also had happy and memorable moments.

This was more than a happy place. This was a family.

And she deserved it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

And time passed, year after year, full of happiness.

Of course there were some complex moments, not everything in life is happy moments but always, there were always more beautiful than ugly moments in the lives of those women.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda and Y/N had a beautiful marriage for almost forty years. They saw their twins grow up and become good, kind and respectful men.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natalia became an incredible, respectable, successful and loving woman. Of course she was a little rebellious at times like Natasha, but she also had responsible moments like Jules. She met an adorable girl on a trip and fell madly in love.

Wanda and Y/N always reminded her that Nat and Jules were her real mothers and they always came to the cemetery to leave some flowers.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Luna was an adorable girl, she was like Wanda. Even with her brown hair and beautiful green eyes, Y/N told Luna that she was her little 'firecracker' because she had her adventurous spirit.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N lived the most beautiful years to the fullest, even when Wanda passed away two years before her, Y/N knew that together they had lived a beautiful life. And death, like loss, no longer affected her the same way.

That night, Y/N passed away sleeping and letting herself fall asleep, leaving in absolute peace.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Opening her eyes slowly, Y/N felt like someone was poking her over and over again inviting her to wake up. “Hey, you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

A male voice made her eyes widen. “Wake up, lazy ass!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N got up quickly from the ground, looking moved at the boy in front of her. Pietro looked exactly as he was before the plane accident; his wild hair, those green eyes sparkled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Finally!” He smiled. She looked around her, it was a nice quiet place, like a warm spring afternoon. Though she had no idea where she was.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Without waiting any longer, Y/N hugged him tightly, closing her eyes. Saying over and over again how sorry she was, and how much she owed him. How thankful she was.

Year after year, the guilt over Pietro's death washed over her and she was finally letting it go.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Everything is okay, captain, all that is behind us.” Pietro hugged the girl and smiled tenderly.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, I'm getting a bit jealous over here, and you?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“A bit, yes.” This time it was Natasha, giving Jules a little nudge at her side. They looked exactly as she remembered them, so beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Nat?” With tears in her eyes, Y/N wasted no time in running to them and hugging them. “Jules!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What? Did you think you'd never see us again?” Jules teased, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for everything you did for our little girl.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We are proud to see the woman she has become thanks to you and Wanda.” Natasha smiled and ruffled Y/N's hair.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That little girl stole my heart from the first moment, I'm glad you are happy.” Y/N sniffled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We are really happy.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm sorry you couldn't have-” Y/N tried to say but her friends just shook their heads.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We were always there with you.” Jules smiled and put her hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Closing her eyes for a second, Y/N got lost in that touch that felt so real to her. Wasn't she dreaming?

Suddenly her eyes widened, looking around her with excitement. “Wanda… where is she?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha smiled. “First you must be sure of what you will choose.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you want to stay or do you want to come with us?” This time Jules spoke, all of them began to walk down that path between the trees.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You must leave all longing behind, you must first accept it.” Pietro nodded. Of course he was referring to her family, who were still alive.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N thought for a moment. Her children would be fine, they were old enough to move on their own. It was her time to move on too.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They'll be fine.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

With a smile, the three looked at each other and then stepped aside.

Behind them, Wanda was looking at her with a huge smile and a hopeful look.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Detka!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Without further ado, they hugged each other again, stronger than ever. Their souls finally found each other, entwining once more. “Wands… I missed you, so bad.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N kissed her lips over and over again, desperate for having missed her so much.

Wanda smiled between kisses. “I missed you too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

They held each other for a moment until Y/N felt how they were surrounded. Not only her friends, but also other people.

One of them made her let go of Wanda’s arms. Y/N felt that the time -if it existed there- stopped completely.

It had been a long time since she saw that girl.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Sharon waved, smirking slightly. Sharon, Helen, Carol, Kate and all the girls who died in that place were around her. This time not like a horrible and haunting nightmare, no. This time it was a welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N blinked and waking up from the reverie, she violently approached her to stop in front of Sharon. She did nothing but feel her tears fall. “I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean it to end like that, I'm so sorry. I spent all these years thinking about that, I didn't want you to die. I'm so sorry, Sharon.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She finally cried, letting go of the guilt. Y/N carried Sharon's death for a long time.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Can you forgive me?” Y/N asked Sharon, taking her hand, but the blonde squeezed her hand as a clear answer.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Only if you can forgive us too.” Sharon nodded and just hugged her. “I never hated you, we were young and stupid. We made a lot of mistakes in a place that wasn't for us, but all that is behind us. This place is to rest... all those pains left behind.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

All of them hugged Y/N tightly, welcoming her to a whole new place. Where pain, revenge, violence was left behind.

One by one the whole team approached to join that hug. Like the first time, like that first time after winning the match. If only that plane accident hadn't happened, oh that team would have been unstoppable.

ㅤㅤㅤ

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

ㅤㅤㅤ

They all cheered, happy, free.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Okay, move on from here.” Yelena growled. “We must move on, I'm sick of seeing you all even in the fucking heaven.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N turned to look at her, confused. “This is heaven?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, we don’t know? It's more like… a place made up of many heavens? Individual ones? Each of us can rest and lose ourselves in the moments we decide to remember.” Wanda explained, narrowing her eyes, some of the girls nodded. “We don’t need to understand, just… be here. Unless you are a very evil person, we don't know what happens there.” ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“But if you're not evil... everyone gets a piece of paradise.” Jules smiled widely.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We can visit others, but only soulmates can share the same place.” Natasha kissed her wife's cheek, hugging her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Ready to meet ours?” Wanda smiled and took the hand of the love of her life.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N inhaled deeply and then nodded. Finally smiling, ready to rest. “Yeah.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Yup, this is the end. 🐝 I hope I didn't disappoint you. And it was good for you. I know it has not much to do with the tv show -more than the plane crash and some stuff- and I'm happy with that. Maybe there are some one shots later, explaining some moments. Pietro's death and everything... So, thank you very much for reading me, it is always a delight to know that you are here with me. 🐝

the cutest and lovely BEES tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld @canyonyodeler smromanoff @romanoffomixam✨

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

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