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peggyao3 · 18 days ago

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Relic - Pt. 17 "Equinox"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 5k

A/N: Wow, we're really, really getting there now and I feel so conflicted about it 😭 I don't want it to end, but I'll also be so happy to wrap up their story ❤️ Thank you for every motivating comment along the way, you're the reason why I kept going ❤️

Reposted from my Ao3💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Day 140

Lurid clouds are chased across the roiling skies, stripped apart by the fierce winds of the high troposphere. Through the cracks in the clouds, the guests and bridal pair witness a macabre glory in the firmament.

God's inverted eye is glaring down on the altar and everyone in its frayed shadow becomes dancing motes at the center of the universe.

Today marks not only the spring equinox and the wedding of Feyd-Rautha and his alien bride, it is also a solar eclipse and Giedi Prime's white moon creeps in front of the black sun like a wandering pupil.

Past the smog-polluted urban canyons of Barony and even past the endless trenches of mines and factories of Gyed are the tasu aurinkosesti — the planes of the ever-sun, closer to the equatorial belt than any Harkonnen-built settlement. While not safe enough for permanent residents, the majestic landscape is just safe enough for festivities overlooked by the full glory of Giedi Prime's volcanos who crane their tapered maws proudly to the black sun.

Here is where nature breaks through the cracks of bleached Earth, dry, short grasses and creeping inkvines. The active volcanoes are gentler masters than the human settlers.

Today, delicate, black garlands flutter from the temporarily erected poles, seats and slender archways which mark two aisles down a semi-circle of hand-picked guests, one thousand of them — Harkonnens only for this special festivity. Stirred by the hot winds from the south, the garlands look not unlike human entrails strung up for a carnival.

The aisles meet at a slightly elevated pedestal, on it a massive, roughly cuboid slab of obsidian. An ancient altar dented in the middle by the thousands of brides who had laid on it, or been forced to, and spilled their maiden blood onto the stone with the sun as their witness.

Feyd-Rautha's bride won't have to spread her legs on the ancient ceremonial site today. She is an off-worldler and her delicate flesh would be burnt to crisps and become a cornucopia of tumors if she spent but a minute unprotected in the open air. The radiation is strongest near the equator and only her wedding gown keeps her sheltered from it.

Panels of scintillating material shift heavily around her legs, hard but bendy, each layer painted with lead to isolate her flesh from the lurid sun's gamma rays. The gown tapers in at the waist and breasts and crawls over her shoulders, arms, and hands, covering her wholly. Her head is crowned by a veil of the same iridescent panels, protecting hair and face, only the face-panel is see-through. From afar, her shape is entirely otherworldly.

She will be an alien to the populace first, in her looks and in her ways, and then share her humanity. But first, she wants to enjoy the company of her husband and not think about anything for a while, no world-changing battles, no masses in arms.

Her gaze trails along the twisted, black archway that connects both sides of the elevated pedestal, Crowns of Thorns around it twining, Giedi Prime's only native flower. Skywards, God's inverted eye stands directly over the altar, filling her heart with horror and beauty, a feeling she can appreciate because it's not malicious, unlike the many human workings she has encountered in this universe.

Her eyes' appreciative journey ends at the man who will soon be her husband. On the other side of the pedestal, three meters away, stands Feyd-Rautha, the counter-image of her. His bare skin is as white as the chalky terrain and the glaring skies, only his loins are covered by a cloth that is wrapped in ceremonial manner, leaving the sides of his hips and strong thighs exposed. His hands are bare, ringless, and his hip weaponless.

On his exposed belly and chest, she will later be painting the markings of fertility and eternity, a winding symbol like a serpent devouring its own tail.

Feyd-Rautha bares his ink-black teeth, smiling when he sees his woman doing the same beneath her veil, white teeth between her painted lips. While she looks a hundredfold more pompous in her scintillating gown, to her, Feyd-Rautha is the most glorious sight in the world; the way he presents himself to the universe freely now and with no fear.

The drums begin to play and deep-throated chanting soars from the crowd who have risen from their seats, each of them clutching a hand over their hearts. They too have come in ceremonial robes, heavy fabric that reaches down to the knees and a strap of fabric that stretches diagonally across the chest and over one shoulder, leaving one side of the chest exposed — men and women alike.

Feyd and his bride turn to the crowd whose feet raise and stomp down in unison and whose hands mimic the drum beats over their hearts. The ceremonial chanting claps across the planes like thunder from a thousand throats. In the front row are Mikhail Kyelug and Lilia Bauer, the groomsman and bridesmaid by old Earth tradition.

On Mikhail's other side is a man who Feyd-Rautha would have stabbed on sight a week ago. Glossu Rabban looks up to his little brother by the altar, and the Count of Lankiveil is smiling.

Six days prior

"Can't believe you're tired already — hick! — na-Baron!"

It's Baron by now, but Feyd doesn't bother correcting Mikhail as they slouch through the array of corridors which will eventually lead them to the concubines' wing where Feyd has moved in with his wife-to-be, his old quarters burned down together with the Baron's. That is unless they get lost, liquor-blurred eyes blinking into predawn darkness.

"Not tired," Feyd-Rautha protests, shoving his comrade into the nearest wall. The guard bounces right back, sending Feyd staggering.

"So, lovesick?"

"I can go a night without my woman."

"Yeeaah, but you don't wanna."

There is not a single club in Barony that doesn't have poles for strippers and slaves of every shape, size and age at their disposal, yet neither of the two men have indulged in anything other than alcohol and the occasional pill or pipe tonighr. The physiology of anything living on Giedi Prime is much harder to poison. Common alcohol is barely a challenge for Harkonnen livers, hence why booze from Giedi Prime's distilleries can kill an off-wordler after just a glass.

"It's Bull's Night, so 'course I want my prize at the end of the night."

"Point is you should take some other prize, ya know? Spread out your seed, eh?" Mikhail gesticulates with one hand, drawing complicated circles in the air.

"Did'you spread out your seed before you married Lilia?"

"Nah," Mikhail laughs and Feyd scoffs, grinning to himself. The night has been long and his cheeks are hurting.

The sudden echo of a shoe around the next corner snaps both men out of their drunken banter. These aren't guards' boots. Feyd-Rautha's blade hisses from its sheath and he barges forward, coming to an abrupt halt behind the corner. It is Mikhail who speaks first.

"Beast — hick! — Rabba-ban!"

The stocky frame of Feyd's older brother fills out the hallway. He wears dark brown, a cushioned pad on one shoulder and a sword belt around his hip. A comfortable uniform as it is worn on Lankiveil. He's gotten fatter, Feyd notices through the shock of finding his brother, whom he hasn't seen in over five years, in his palace, let alone while he is drunk and blabbering.

The sight has burned him sober.

Under his arm, the intruder carries a gift box, beige with a crinkled but shiny, golden ribbon tied around it in sloppy loops.

"What are you doing here?" Rabban rumbles, mouth standing open in bewilderment.

"It's early morning. What are you doing here?" Feyd snaps back sharply, muscled shoulder angled towards his brother who is still several feet away.

"I was on my way to your room."

"My room isn't that way anymore."

Rabban can't find it in him to close his mouth, but he does plod into Feyd-Rautha's personal space, uncaring of the way his younger brother twitches and how his long limbs tense themselves to lunge. Despite his drunkenness, Mikhail's fist is screwed tight around the handle of his half-unsheathed blade and the smaller man is poised like a guard dog behind his Baron and friend.

After a moment, Feyd exhales a slow lungful of air. "Go now," he orders and gives the tense guard a firm slap on the shoulder and a little squeeze.

"Are ya sure, my Lord?" Mikhail hesitates until Feyd-Rautha squeezes his shoulder again.

"Go and mount your woman. She must have been waiting for you all night. And tell mine not to come here!"

Mikhail sheathes his blade with a noisy hiss and trails around Rabban in a curious half circle before wandering off into the hallway, a sway to his footsteps as he keeps muttering that he needs to tell Lilia about Beast - hick - Rabban.

Looking past Feyd's raised, wicked blade, Glossu's dark brown eyes find his brother's icy blue ones and Feyd is enraged when Rabban's cheeks fill up with laughter out of all things.

"How did you get in here? You're not invited." Feyd rumbles, tilting the blade’s tip towards Rabban’s neck. “You should kiss your Baron's feet and beg him for forgiveness for trespassing.”

Still, the older brother disregards his sibling’s threat and merely tightens his grip on the curious box. He doesn’t even bother to draw his sword. Feyd is seething.

"I'm still a Harkonnen by blood. I don't need to be invited to attend my little brother's wedding."

Feyd-Rautha snarls at that. Being a few inches taller and considering himself considerably smarter than Glossu in every regard, he sees himself as anything but the little brother.

"You're not a Harkonnen, you're a Rabban and you're dressed like one too."

"You're a Rabban as much as I am! You would look good in a uniform like mine."

Feyd's brows knit together in bewilderment. "I look nothing like a Rabban."

"You look just like our mother," Glossu barks and Feyd hisses through bared teeth, pupils shrunken to deadly pinpricks.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to attend my little brother's wedding."

"I'm not your little brother, you dumb boar."

"You'll always be my little brother!"

"And you've taken the title of big brother literally as of late? You look fat. Have you been drinking?"

"A little," his brother admits. Now being way past fifty, Glossu 'Beast' Rabban looks old and bloated and Feyd finds it hard to believe that he could have ever looked up to his older sibling.

"Say what you want in my palace or feel my blade in your neck."

"I've only been truthful to you," Rabban insists. "I came to celebrate and to… talk. I'm happy for you."

"Are you now?" Feyd tilts his head in cold mockery.

"I hope I get to meet your woman one day. I've heard plenty of rumors, ranging from heartwarming to mind boggling."

Feyd would rather keep his brother a thousand miles away from his wife to be. The last time they had seen each other, they had clashed with blades and teeth. Rabban, spraying spittle, had yelled that he would shatter everything his spoiled prince of a brother calls his own to pieces, and Feyd had made a gashing cut along Rabban's ribs, snarling with honeyed voice that even a pig had higher chances at success.

There was no love lost between the brothers.

"What's in there?" Feyd's gaze darts to the beige box under Glossu's arm and flits back up with resharpened coldness. But no icy glare can hide the fact that he's taken the bait, like a boy who can't resist a candy bar dangled in front of his face.

"It's for you," Glossu beams and offers the box all too freely. Feyd can't remember a time when his brother had ever willingly shared, let alone given.

Opening a mystery present from Rabban might as well be his last foolish mistake, but Feyd too may be a bit drunk, a bit drugged, and his curiosity kindled a bit too much by this irritating encounter.

"Open it," Feyd demands, holding the blade unwavering at Rabban's neck. His brother complies, pulling on the bow so it flutters to the ground, then wrapping one thick hand around the lid to lift it.

Feyd had expected many things, but not that.

From inside, a soft thing meets his incredulous stare and Feyd-Rautha's free hand lifts slowly, sliding into the box to pick up the item with pointy fingers. He holds it at arm's length, as if its soft fur might bite, and rotates it by the flipper. A stitched face with a little snout regards him, black marbles for eyes, handmade. It's a seal, its plush made of brown whale fur. Some spots are lovingly worn and matted by young, playful hands.

"Why don't you just go over there and say that you want it?" A man's droning baritone. "Because I don't want it!" Icy wind whistles around the fur hood of Feyd's coat, along with the scent of pines, roasted almonds and smoked meat. "So you tugged on my sleeve because you don't want it? You're a big boy now, you can go over there. Are you scared?" "Let's go! You're stupid!" Feyd yowls and the faceless man laughs as the little boy fruitlessly pushes against his thick leg to get him to move away from the market stall. Blades clatter when he throws himself against the man's hip. "No, no, no! I hate you!" A pair of muscled arms sweep up his body like he's only a doll and throw him over a broad, fur-clad shoulder. Feyd finds himself thrashing against the coat that covers the man's back with his tiny fists.

“You remember it?” Rabban laughs and Feyd hates the way a web of crow’s feet spreads around his brother's eyes. It makes him look aged.

“No,” he snarls like a dog.

“But I do." Rabban points at the stuffed seal. "I got it for you.”

"You?!" The muscles of Feyd's hairless brows tic upwards in perplexity. The man from that wicked memory was not his father then? But he had looked so tall and big and grown-up. The idea that his bull-headed brother had been kind to him once and did something as mundane as take him to the market and buy him a toy is one that Feyd viciously rejects. It stands out jarringly against the brutal colors that paint his concept of family.

“You acted like you didn’t want to have it. Thought I wouldn't see the way you looked at it, big eyes and all. You thought it was embarrassing to have a— a plushy thing.” Rabban’s voice falters, like there is more hidden there. Old anguish that hurts so freshly when he sees his grown-up baby brother with an old toy in hand. Baron now. “You really don’t remember?”

“I remember that you threw me over your shoulder like a big brute. So, you’ve always been a boar, even then.” Feyd’s eyes glint like his blade as the pale dawn that creeps over the horizon, shedding light through the arched windows between bulging pillars.

“Yeah, I did that!” Rabban dares to fill the quiet morning air with guffawing laughter once more. "You were so small and light. You were on my knees a lot, brother. Used to sit there and watch me whet my blades. You still whet them like I showed you back then, do you know that?"

"I was never on your fat knees, brother, and if I was, it must have been by force."

Feyd's left forearm ricochets into Rabban's chest, pinning him to the wall. The blade pokes into the side of the bulkier man's neck, sharp and glinting like a snake tooth and Feyd’s features are screwed into deadly violence.

Rabban grunts in a way that Feyd finds downright pathetic when the back of his head hits the solid tiles, barely fighting against his baby brother's assault. His eyes are squeezed into crinkled lines. From up close, one can see the blotchiness of Rabban's puffy face. Feyd sneers.

"You'll die younger than our uncle if you go on like this," he comments on his brother's tumid appearance and scratches the blade tip against his cheek. “You embarrass your Baron.”

Rabban shrugs his shoulders and releases a puff of air from trembling lips. It bewilders him that even though he’s afraid, he wouldn’t mind if his little brother slit his neck right here. At the very least, he would die at the hand of the last person he had ever loved. “You’re no Baron to me, you’re just my baby brother.”

Glossu Rabban prepares himself for metal to sink into his neck in quick, searing pain, like he had seen Feyd do so often, a boy sharpened into violent psychosis by a violent man. But his brother's presence only grows deadly silent until Rabban opens his eyes. Feyd has never liked capable prey who doesn’t fight back. His younger brother’s expression is hard to read, shielded always by a wall of either fire or ice. Does that woman who he is to marry ever see him without? Glossu is almost jealous.

“Do you remember any of your childhood?” Rabban finds his own voice meek and brittle, thoughts drifting to a warm, cozy nursery, a round carpet on the floor, an arm chair and a toy chest on the floor, an ever-blue sky and icy hills covered in lush pines which seem to tickle the ivy firmament. The room is still unchanged in the Lankiveil fortress, a capsule of the past, waiting for the little boy who still lives somewhere in Feyd-Rautha.. "Our home?"

"I don't. Giedi Prime is my home," Feyd bites and his seething lips nearly brush against his brother’s. It is a home now that his uncle is gone.

"It is not!" Rabban suddenly bristles and shoves Feyd-Rautha’s blade aside, cutting his sleeve on it. "You know what's a good home?! Caladan. Or Kaitain. Or Lankiveil."

"You're not even a Harkonnen anymore, brother. You disgust me."

"And neither are you! We're half Harkonnen! I took after our father…" Rabban rubs over his ever-hairless skull and the many old battle scars there. "But you had blonde hair once, did you know that? And there would be snow on it when you came inside from playing."

"I wasn't playing!"

"Yes, you were!" Spit sprays over Feyd's chest, narrowly missing the stuffie which he has come to cradle unwittingly against his chest, and Feyd's eyes flash with offense. "You were a little boy, of course you were playing! You were three when I—" Rabban halts and anguish twists his aged features. He is fifty-five now and suddenly it shows. Suddenly, Feyd can only see his brother as what he is, an old veteran fallen from grace, drinking the rest of his brain away on Lankiveil. Rabban adds with a thick voice: “I always tried to be there.”

“Where?”

“With you! Everyone knew that our mother didn't want you. But I tried to be there.”

The vicious fire in Feyd's stomach dies to frozen ashes and his teeth are screwed into his bottom lip. The extended blade quivers and his fingers dig into soft fur. “What are you talking about?”

Rabban shrugs again and looks down at the stuffed seal like he hopes the magma channels will open up beneath the palace and swallow him whole. “Our parents had you under the premise that you would be given to our uncle as an heir. It was father’s and uncle's idea. A good deal. You don’t deny House Harkonnen when it offers wealth and reputation in exchange for something so…” So little.

So that’s what he had been all his life. A good deal and nothing more. Feyd wants to sink his blade into his own crunching bones.

Rabban’s face snaps back up with sudden vehemence. “Our mother could never look you in the eyes and it hurt me to see it! When you were born, I thought I would hate you. Who wants a sibling when they’re already past twenty?! But I couldn’t hate you. You were so little…”

Feyd can’t speak, his jaws clenched into a painful vise, so Rabban goes on. “You always tried to get her attention, but she never relented. She wouldn't even hold you to her own breasts for milk."

"Shut up."

"That woman you're going to marry, what is she like?"

“I said shut up!"

Only Emmi Rabban knew the real reason why she couldn’t hold little Feyd-Rautha Rabban. It was not her husband's and her brother in law's idea, even though she let them think it was. It was the Bene Gesserit who needed her little Feyd for their breeding program, who needed him honed and sharpened the Harkonnen way because she, Emmi, had failed to raise Glossu as a respectable son. Too wild, too dumb they said. She hated herself so much for birthing Feyd-Rautha under this pretense, that she couldn't love her little boy, for she knew she couldn't bring herself to give him away if she ever started loving him.

“Sorry.” Glossu's voice quivers and it’s pathetic, so pathetic, Feyd thinks. His own breath does something quite similar.

"So, you're telling me you were the good guy all along? The good big brother?"

"Not all along, no," Rabban draws a hard breath. “You always wanted to be like me. That's why you became like this.” He spits it out like it’s a bad thing. “When I killed our father, I killed our mother and my baby brother too, I just didn't know it yet.” Fat tears roll down Glossu’s cheeks and he doesn’t even care to wipe them away.

Feyd suddenly remembers why he had felt such satisfaction when his mother looked at him with fright when he sunk the blade into her neck at night, when she was tucked into bed, helpless. He had always envied the way their mother looked fearfully at Glossu, because at least she looked at him.

“I killed our father because he deserved it for the plan he made with our uncle. And mother… She suddenly said that you are her only son. It was worth it for me. But the deal hadn’t died with our father and then someday uncle showed up and I think you… You wanted to punish her. You wanted to be like me, so you killed her, and uncle was so impressed.” Glossu exhales shakily. “I would have killed him too, but… I visited you on Giedi Prime after your first months there, you know? I saw what he did to you. You were covered in bruises and I… did nothing. And you grew mean. And you had every right to. But with no one else left to hate, I started hating you, for many years. It’s all my fault.”

Glossu Rabban cries into his fist’s and Feyd-Rautha traps his sobs within his throat, which hurts like a blade was stuck in it. But no matter how tightly he seals his throat, it doesn’t keep his eyes from going blurry and the hot, salty wetness from spilling down his cheeks.

Present Day

Rabban smiles encouragingly, fist beating down on his thick chest to the mighty echo of the drums. Feyd tilts his head, smiling too, shoulders squared and chin held high, even as his heart plummets into his stomach.

The rhythm changes, becomes uncharacteristically softer and gentler. Quick, almost like cats' paws chasing over the plains. The ring bearer is released into the aisle, holding one ring in each quivering face-hand. Big, pearlescent eyes seek out the man and woman at the end of the aisle who both hold out their hands encouragingly, but they are so far away and so many strangers sit and gawk all around.

Glugo shivers, cowering.

Until the two other faces it has grown to love leap up from their seats in the front row and hurry all the way to the back, offering one hand each. Glugo is lucky to have more than enough hand-feet to hold each offered hand in two of its own and strut down the aisle with newfound confidence. The distance shrinks rapidly and it clambers up on top of the pedestal all on its own. Its half-human heart is terribly proud as it holds up the rings as high as it can reach, looking from Feyd to the bride and back. Glugo doesn't like her gown. One hand-foot fingers the splayed, lead-coated plastic panels which are anything but soft. She should have worn a blanket or a fur cloak, it thinks.

"Well done," she praises softly, stroking over the top of Glugo's head with one gloved hand.

"Thank you, my friend" Feyd rasps and the drums fade away entirely when the bride and groom pick up the rings, him holding hers and her holding his.

The wedding bands are blacker than the universe itself, held up against the lurid sky. Forged out of obsidian from Giedi Prime's volcanic mines, they have been chemically reinforced to withstand the eons.

Glugo climbs bravely back down and joins Lilia and Mikhail in a comfortable basket at their feet, loafing and watching attentively.

As Glugo leaves, the master of ceremonies steps onto the raised platform from behind the altar. The tattoos that cover his torso in thick, blocky stripes make him appear almost fully dressed, even though he is clad in only a toga, with black panels of fabric twining loosely around his arms. Nodding towards the Baron and his Lady, the man readies his throat to speak, but a timid servant who comes scurrying from the side beats him to it.

"Eruption imminent, my Lord," the scrawny man murmurs and points to Feyd-Rautha's side where a jagged vent has begun spewing black, billowing smoke into the firmament. A thousand heads turn to the mountain ridge, each towering giant an active volcano. The earth growls and moans beneath their feet.

"Should we evacuate?" The bride's worried voice comes muffled from beneath the layers of scintillating plastic.

"No, we will proceed," Feyd-Rautha decides, turning back to her, leaving the volcanoes at his back in plain sight for her. "Let my bride see the glory and beauty of our world."

She inhales shakily, squaring her shoulders when Feyd grins, blinking in cat-like manner.

"Very well!" The announcer speaks, his recognizable voice as loud as a war horn. When he raises his arms above his head, a fierce breeze picks up the panels fluttering from his pale arms. The wind carries notes of ash. "Let us commence the holy union of our beloved leader, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and his chosen bride! The planet itself celebrates with us!"

Drums begin to boom like thunder, punching a rhythm that pumps red and black blood alike through their veins in a rapid chase. At every fifth beat, the crowd throws their hands up high, chanting. At every tenth beat, the next gust of smoke billows over the crater edge. The man who can make his voice heard across an entire arena has no trouble outdoing the drums.

"The rumors are true, dear people, dear Harkonnens. Our bride is a woman of lost, ancient kingdoms, a relic, the first astronaut! Imagine the ancient secrets she will share with our new Lord, with us!" The announcer punches his fists wildly in the air, black teeth bared in a gashing crescent. "This spring equinox marks the dawn of a new age for our glorious House!"

The planet's crust screams in agreement and gives birth to sparkling rivulets of black, hot lava with an earth-shattering roar. Like ghastly fireworks, they splash against the storm-battered, frosted sky.

The announcer laughs, clutching the bride and groom by the arms. "Foretold by dreams, their union is now written in the flesh!"

Feyd-Rautha curls his palm around her covered cheek and she does the same to him, gloved hand cool against his skin. She is gawking in awe at the terrible spectacle at his back, but a soft tilt of Feyd's head is enough to snare her attention back to him. His uncanny beauty outshines even the brutal convulsions of Giedi Prime.

"Speak after me," the announcer hollers. "I swear by the blood and the flesh that my heart belongs to my Manducor, in life and in death. The honor to devour it after my passing goes to my Manducor and my Manducor alone. The glorious, black sun is my witness."

Manducor means heart eater. Days prior, when Feyd came home drunk and weepy after his Bull's Night, he had confessed to her that he had always been afraid of dying, because he knew his uncle would eat his heart in a final, cruel violation. But not anymore, he had whispered with such fondness that she now finds it easy to repeat the words and mean them.

Her voice is amplified by a device offered by the announcer and her words roll like a tidal wave across the semi circle of guests. Feyd-Rautha's features twitch in euphoria, eyes gleaming like the lava that rolls in hot rivers down the mountain flank. Like an animal ready to pounce, his voice quivers when he repeats the sacred words.

The drums' chasing rhythm crests and the screams that rise from a thousand mouths are guttural and primal. The volcano hisses above, the earth howls below and Feyd-Rautha claims his bride to the grandest cacophony of man and nature.

Lilia cries and presses Glugo's head to her knee. A beaming Glossu Rabban shakes Mikhail's hand.

The relic's palms meet Feyd's belly when he crosses the distance in one powerful stride, sliding over the twitching hills of his muscles when he parts her veil up to the nose, baring her painted lips to the scalding air.

"My woman, I love you," her husband snarls before his lips find hers in needy violence, taking her breath while her fingers curl around his back and dig into his flesh.

With one radioactive kiss, their bond is sealed, hearts, flesh and souls bound for all beautiful, horrifying eternity.

The Garden releases its last radiance, not as something failed, but as its full reason for being: to give continually, to its last bit of energetic being. Its giving is its beauty. It is a smile, it is the heart of love. Even the smell of decay, drifting from the deer, dead by the side of the road, says: “This is what I am and no other. I do not pretend to be. Even in death I speak without deceit, even unto my flesh, my very bones.

- Equinox by Richard Wehrman

A/N: See you in the, starts sobbing , last chapter 🥺🥺🥺

FEYD TAG LIST

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, wanted to ask about this since EN had the Cloudcalling event very recently. There’s a lot of talk about how the people of the Sunset Savannah respect nature and want to live in harmony with it. What do you think Twisted Wonderland at large feels about environmental efforts like that?

I think Twisted Wonderland in general probably leans toward being environmentally conscious.

I recall back in the first Halloween event that Scarabia’s theme for its area was to promote environmental preservation, recycling and reusing goods, etc. Ortho also has various lines which refer to energy efficiency, and Leona mentions interning at a mining and energy lab. That means that organizations and technology dedicated to ecological efforts exist and get funding. Clearly this is something that is valued or at least trying to be spread or made more common.

Many of the areas we visited outside of NRC try to make the best of what’s in the environment rather than force the environment to change to conform to the lifestyles of the people who have settled there. For example, Silk City is built around its waterways for trade and potable water in an otherwise arid area. The fruits they grow here are also very sweet because the hot, dry climate forces the sugar content in them to be higher. In Harveston, people forage and resell items from Mt. Moln amongst each other and to tourists. Briar Valley is mountainous, so they built Castle Blackscale behind that deadly region to safeguard the royal family. There’s many more examples of this if you care to dive into the lore ^^ I’ll just cut it here for the sake of brevity.

Another thing!! Twisted Wonderland has fantasy races to account for. Note that many, if not all of them, have close ties to nature. We know the beastmen of the Sunset Savanna value living in harmony with nature due to their animal ancestry. Merfolk live in the waters, so things like pollution and overfishing would deeply affect them and their way of life. And fae, of course, are said to be deeply connected with nature and are theorized to even draw their power from those elements. I’d imagine that there would be some pretty strict regulations among them and human societies to help maintain their environments, especially with multiracial unions (like that of the mermaid princess and her human prince).

Recall too that there have been wars over territory hundreds of years in Twisted Wonderland’s past. Humans invaded Briar country seeking its resources and land, and that resulted in much tragedy, bloodshed, and loss of life. The world thankfully seems to be much more peaceful in modern day… so I think modern leaders probably looked back on history and sought to build up from it and maintain good relationships, not regress back into that dark era of war and hatred.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #book 7 spoilers #halloween spoilers #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #Ortho Shroud #twisted wonderland theory #Leona Kingscholar #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis

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turtlesandfrogs · 4 months ago

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Started the day by reading this article from the NY times, and I'm frankly, disturbed.

Some highlights:

"For decades, farmers across America have been encouraged by the federal government to spread municipal sewage on millions of acres of farmland as fertilizer. It was rich in nutrients, and it helped keep the sludge out of landfills."

Which I knew, and I knew that there were concerns about contaminants from like, the medications people were on. But human waste is part of the nutrient cycle, and it always made sense to me that it should be throughly composted and returned to agricultural lands, and I assumed that people in general were taking the steps necessary to make it safe.

But here's what I didn't know:

"The 1972 Clean Water Act had required industrial plants to start sending their wastewater to treatment plants instead of releasing it into rivers and streams, which was a win for the environment but also produced vast new quantities of sludge that had to go somewhere."

Which, yay, no longer polluting bodies of water, but now that means we're applying industrial waste water to agricultural lands. And have been since 1972. Which leads to this situation, among many others, I'm sure:

"The sludge that allegedly contaminated the Colemans’ farm came from the City of Fort Worth water district, which treats sewage from more than 1.2 million people, city records show. Its facility also accepts effluent from industries including aerospace, defense, oil and gas, and auto manufacturing. Synagro takes the sludge and treats it (though not for PFAS, as it’s not required by law) then distributes it as fertilizer."

So here's what some states are doing:

"In Michigan, among the first states to investigate the chemicals in sludge fertilizer, officials shut down one farm where tests found particularly high concentrations in the soil and in cattle that grazed on the land. This year, the state prohibited the property from ever again being used for agriculture. Michigan hasn’t conducted widespread testing at other farms, partly out of concern for the economic effects on its agriculture industry.

In 2022, Maine banned the use of sewage sludge on agricultural fields. It was the first state to do so and is the only state to systematically test farms for the chemicals. Investigators have found contamination on at least 68 of the more than 100 farms checked so far, with some 1,000 sites still to be tested.

“Investigating PFAS is like opening Pandora’s box,” said Nancy McBrady, deputy commissioner of Maine’s Department of Agriculture."

This is fun:

"The E.P.A. is currently studying the risks posed by PFAS in sludge fertilizer (which the industry calls biosolids) to determine if new rules are necessary.

The agency continues to promote its use on cropland, though elsewhere it has started to take action. In April, it ordered utilities to slash PFAS levels in drinking water to near zero and designated two types of the chemical as hazardous substances that must be cleaned up by polluters. The agency now says there is no safe level of PFAS for humans...

It’s difficult to know how much fertilizer sludge is used nationwide, and E.P.A. data is incomplete. The fertilizer industry says more than 2 million dry tons were used on 4.6 million acres of farmland in 2018. And it estimates that farmers have obtained permits to use sewage sludge on nearly 70 million acres, or about a fifth of all U.S. agricultural land."

There's more, but I wanted to condense it at least a little bit. I am glad we're raising awareness, and I'm glad we're starting to regular the amount in our drinking water, and I hope that we'll find a way to actually deal with PFAS. I am so frustrated that people are exposed in the first place, and in nigh inescapable ways.

Also, to all those people who were like, oh, organic isn't at all healthier for consumers? Guess what the organic standards don't allow to be applied?

#PFAS #contamination #agricultural lands

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tmtquickcomics · 5 days ago

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Soooo, when noticing this I noticed something else.

Alot of the fandom has theorized the Sins are ranked and/or have status or power based on the placements of their rings. Crimson's comment on Oz being 'the weakest Sin' being used to support this theory. With the rings going from strongest to weakest from top to bottom.

While I personally theorize that none of the Sins are necessarily stronger or weaker than each other. They just have different strengths and weaknesses. There is evidence that says that there may be power ranking based on their Ring placements but with the lower rings being more powerful.

Not including Pride in this, lets look at those who live in each ring, their environments, and how they're viewed.

Wrath: Origin of the Imps

Their environment is desolate and harsh. Not a lot of infrastructure or signs of leisure. Imps are viewed as the lowest class. They're working class and are the 'poor'. They're also treated poorly.

They're also implied to have no natural magic and/or a small amount of magic. We've seen Crimson make a death clock and the one imp at looloo land lighting his finger on fire. But these could be explained away by the use of magical artifacts or possibly being a hybrid.

No signs that Imps would have any innate reason to go to Earth.

Gluttony: Origin of the Hellhounds

Their environment is lush and bountiful, but seems to be over grown and potently hostile (carnivorous plants). Has infrastructure, but from what we see seems to be in pockets. One of the lowest classes, but seems to flip flop a little if they're above or below Imps. They're not represented as being poor, but they are a working/guard class that are also treated like property. They don't seem to be treated poorly, but they're not given a lot of respect.

They don't appear to have a lot of magic, but they do have magic based on what we've seen with Loona. She can create a human disguise with no obvious signs of a artifact, she has tracking abilities, and heightened senses. I also theorize hellhounds having a slight connection to magic is why IMP had her being the one using the book all the time.

Signs that Hellhounds would have job related/situational reasons to go to Earth.

Greed: Origin of the Jester Demons (and maybe the -Loan- Sharks)

Greed is a little harder to talk about. We haven't interacted with the jester demons a lot and I'm not sure if the sharks are from Greed or Envy. So it's inconclusive. We don't know if they have magic or not.

Best guess is that Jester demons are a entertainment class, and are a mid class. Not treated poor or lesser like Imps and Hellhounds, but don't seem to be in positions of authority, power, or respect.

What we do know is Mammon and thusly the greed ring runs the banks. Mammon is rich, but people living in his ring are all over the map. Some places seem decent enough to live in, but there's also major areas of pollution.

Like I said Greed seems to be mid.

And as a side note: We've only seen Mammon truly interact with Oz, and Mammon backs down and back downs quick every time Oz gets pissed at him. If Oz was actually physically/magically weaker than Mam I doubt he'd back down the way he does.

Lust: Origin of the Succubi (and implied the Ars Goetias)

infrastructure. infrastructure everywhere! Dismissing the pros and cons of not having any nature near by. The Lust ring is the first one to show that not just the ruler has riches, but the people do as well. The ring is well kept and clean. Appears to be very safe to live in. the Succubi also look to be the first group to not have a singular assigned purpose. They seem to have the freedom to choose what they do from regular type jobs, factory work, or being a pop star. They're treated well.

They poses magic and have the ability to fly.

They travel to Earth regularly to help spread lust.

Envy: Origin of Sirens and Fester Demons

We haven't seen Envy yet but between Hazbin, Helluva, and meta content It's the richest of all the Rings. Most fans have assumed that Levi and Oz are inventors with Oz focusing more on things connected to pleasure and Levi being more branched out. It's also been implied that nearly anything high end luxury are made in the Envry ring. Sirens and Festers are the higher class. On par with the Succubi, and possibly higher class on a more consistent basis.

They clearly have a fair amount of magic and abilities.

We don't know the full extent of it, but we know Fester demons have a roll on Earth and it's an easy conclusion that Siren also have a roll on Earth.

Sloth: Origin of the Baphomets

Haven't seen much this group, but we do know their ring is similar to lust and envy. It's clean and well built. The ring is wealthy and houses and can profit off medical needs and relaxation centers. We haven't seen them treated bad or good outside of Blitz. But Blitz is... Blitz.

Don't know if they have magic, but it is implied with the addition of their ever burning candles.

Don't know if the baphomets go to Earth, but we do know demons can go to Earth on behalf of the Sloth ring. As seen with Barb.

Bottom line is:

the top two rings house the poorest and worst treated hell borns

Greed is the middle ring and is mid with living conditions and treatment.

Bottom three rings appear to be wealthy, higher class, maintained, and well treated.

So if the Rings do mirror the abilities and/or power of their patron Sins, the bottom rings are more well off.

#helluva boss #the Sins #analysis #I guess

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paracosm-draw · 2 months ago

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Promptober Day 11 - Spaceship + Praise Kink ☄️

I don't have time to write or draw, this is so frustrating 😭 Anyway, enjoy a longer prompt as an apology 🫶🏻

Tags : masturbation, fingering, anal sex, shower sex, top Obi-Wan, bottom Anakin

~~~

“Anakin, slow down.”

An amused smirk spreads on the young man’s lips at Obi-Wan’s tensed voice. He gives him a side look, noticing how his Master’s fingers had curled up tightly on the edge of his seat, knuckles getting white with the strength of it.

With a grin, Anakin pushes a finger on the controller, speeding up their ship a little bit more as they flew swiftly over a functioning generator.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan groans through gritted teeth.

The young Jedi grabs the controller with his mechano hand and tilts it to the side, pushing the ship into a series of rolls that make Obi-Wan gasp and Anakin laugh.

“Anakin, stop it ! You’re going to get us killed !” Obi-Wan hisses.

“Don’t you trust me, Master?” Anakin smiles widely, just before violently straightening the ship to avoid a random electric pole. “Oops.”

Obi-Wan’s face has turned white, he is sitting straight on his seat, back and shoulders tense, jaw locked and eyes focused on the windshield.

“I want to get off.” He says calmly but Anakin can feel his emotions twirling chaotically in the Force.

He can tell he’s extremely uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know him he would have said scared also. Not that any of this was showing up on his face, right now.

“And I want you to relax.” Anakin sighs. “I want you to enjoy flying.”

“I enjoy flying.” Obi-Wan retorts, his whole body tensing again when Anakin brushes the side of a building a little too closely. “I don't enjoy suicide attempts.”

“I’m not landing until you admit I’m a great pilot.” Anakin replies back, a bit vexed by Obi-Wan’s comment.

He doesn’t understand why his Master refuses to trust him in this matter. He’s been flying ships for as long as he can remember, he knows perfectly what he’s doing.

“When was the last time I caused an accident ?” He asks before Obi-Wan can say something.

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, and when Anakin gives him a side glance he can see his jaw working with annoyance.

“Doesn’t mean you’re flying safely.” He says finally. “You never know about the other’s reactions.”

“I can anticipate.” Anakin huffs. “That’s why I’m a Jedi.”

“Still a Padawan.” Obi-Wan mutters, even though Anakin is closer to the end than the beginning. “Now, please land somewhere so I can go back to the Temple without fearing for my life.”

“No way.” Anakin retorts. “I’m bringing you back to the Temple.”

He makes the ship leap into a tunnel, squeezing them between a speeder and a flying bus, adrenaline still high on his veins. Speeding up, he outdistances them both while Obi-Wan swears in his beard, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

Anakin can’t help but smile when he catches his Master’s words. He loves more than anything making him slip from his perfectly crafted image to show the real, more human part of him. The one who swears and experiences emotions, the one with flaws and doubts and feelings.

He stretches out the arm who’s not playing with the controller to gently catch Obi-Wan’s fingers, deeply digging into the leather of his seat.

“Open your eyes.” He says, tugging on his hand when he doesn’t want to let go. “Enjoy the view ?”

They exit the tunnel at the same time Obi-Wan accepts to take a peek from under his eyelids. Anakin makes them leave the circulation to push the ship up, higher and higher until they pierce the cloud of pollution hanging low on the city.

There the air is clearer, the setting sun painting bright colors on the tallest buildings. They leave the crowded paths behind, Anakin reducing their speed to let Obi-Wan enjoy the sight of Coruscant slipping quietly into the twilight hours.

Obi-Wan relaxes a bit when Anakin slows down, letting the ship float back to their destination, and Anakin takes the opportunity to lace their fingers together.

“So ?” He asks, turning to him with a smile.

“You’re a great pilot.” Obi-Wan admits with a sigh. “Probably the greatest I’ve ever encountered. I just don’t like when you put your life in danger.”

“I’m always careful.” Anakin replies, before biting his tongue when Obi-Wan gives him a look. “Okay, maybe not always. But I’ll never put you in danger intentionally.”

“I shall hope so.” Obi-Wan says, quirking an eyebrow.

Anakin smiles and focuses back on their trajectory, guiding the ship with a lazy hand.

“So you really mean it when you say I’m the greatest pilot you’ve encountered ?” He asks after a few minutes of silence.

“By far.” Obi-Wan answers.

He looks way more relaxed now that Anakin flies at a decent speed. He even let go of his seat entirely, one hand resting on his laps and the other holding Anakin’s.

Anakin blushes faintly at the compliment. He can tell when Obi-Wan is sincere, and it’s the case right now.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve never seen someone being that comfortable with a controller.” Obi-Wan continues thoughtfully. “Or being able to fly any kind of ship. I don't really believe in talent but I must admit, when I see you…”

Anakin’s heart makes a little looping at Obi-Wan’s words and his cheeks turn a shade darker. He’s not used to such a large amount of compliments in such a short time. Obi-Wan is not really the kind to praise him every time he achieves something. On the contrary, he’s rather stingy with compliments, making Anakin fish for validation all the time.

So for a while he doesn’t know what to say. Obi-Wan’s words turn in his head until they’re back to the Temple, filling his chest with a pleasant warmth and making something flutter softly inside his belly. He already knows he wants to experience that feeling again as soon as possible.

He focuses very hard to make a perfect landing on the platform, making the ship touch the ground with only little shakes, and looks at Obi-Wan expectantly.

“Nice work, Padawan.”

There it is again, that tiny little jolt in Anakin’s guts. It feels so good to be praised for his skills and Obi-Wan seems to be in a generous mood today, so he intends on making the best of it.

“Yeah ?” He asks coyly, looking at his Master from under his eyelashes.

Obi-Wan turns to him and quirks his eyebrows when he notices his expression.

“Yeah.” He smiles softly. “I might not tell you often but you’re a good apprentice, Anakin. I’m proud of you.”

Anakin feels his heart swell with pride and affection at the words. It feels like a warm blanket wrapping him from head to toes, pushing away all his doubts, his constant anger and his insecurities. He’s afraid, suddenly, that when it wears off he goes back to being difficult, unbalanced, unworthy of Obi-Wan’s attention.

Before he realizes it he’s clutching Obi-Wan’s robes with eager hands.

“Tell me. Tell me again, Master.” He pleads. “Tell me I’m good.”

I want to be good for you.

Startled by the sudden desperation on Anakin’s features, Obi-Wan’s first reflex is to push him away, but his Padawan grips him tightly. He knows his anxiety is going to throw him in a loop if he doesn’t reassure him.

“Anakin…” He cups his face gently, disturbed by the anguish in his eyes. “Of course you are. You’re good. Not only for me but for all the people you already helped and the ones you’re going to help in the future.”

“I’m trying.” Anakin whines. “I’m trying so hard, Master. But I feel like sometimes it isn’t enough. I feel like I disappoint you all the time.”

“That’s not true.” Obi-Wan replies firmly, softly brushing his thumbs over his cheekbones. “You could never disappoint me, even if you don’t always listen to me.”

Obi-Wan never understood what triggered Anakin’s sudden self-conscious, anxious crisis. He thought that with time he would identify a pattern but his efforts had stayed vain until now. He wished he could see what happened in Anakin’s wonderful brain but he had to make do with the interpretation of his emotions.

“Now, be a good boy and go take a shower.” Obi-Wan says, gently patting his cheek. “Then join me for dinner.”

“Okay.” Anakin replies quietly.

He gathers all his stuff and disappears into the Temple, heading straight for the shower.

When he’s finally under the hot water spray, he closes his eyes, trying to prevent anxiety from spilling into his blood and spread into his system to poison his thoughts for the rest of the night. He thinks about Obi-Wan’s words, at the pride he pushed into their bond to emphasize his speech. He thinks about how it felt to be recognized and acknowledged for the skills he worked so hard on. He thinks about the pleasant sensation in his belly when Obi-Wan called him good.

With a sigh, he slides a hand between his legs, tugging lightly at his soft cock. He wants to feel good like that again. He wants Obi-Wan to praise him like that everyday, giving him the validation he so desperately needs to feel worthy of the world around him.

He can be good to Obi-Wan, he would do anything to hear him say it once again.

I’m proud of you.

With a moan, Anakin strokes his hardening cock, not really understanding why those little words made him feel like that. Why he felt the need to touch himself thinking about how good he wanted to be for Obi-Wan.

“Fuck.” He whimpers, precome dripping between his fingers as he replays the scene in his head once again.

He squeezes his cock in his palm, playing with his thumb around the head, pressing against the slick slit with each movement, making him shake and moan loudly in the confined space of the shower. A confused thought crosses his mind, wishing that Obi-Wan could hear how good he makes him feel just with the power of his words. He wishes Obi-Wan could tell him again, right now.

As if Anakin’s shameful thoughts have summoned him, Obi-Wan’s voice can suddenly be heard outside of the door.

“Are you almost done ?”

Almost. Anakin thinks. He’s so close it’s hard to articulate a correct sentence.

“Yes.” He pants, stroking his cock with fast and strong movements pushing him closer to the ledge by the second. “Give me- Give me a minute.”

There's a silence on the other side of the door, only broken by the rush of water, the wet slapping sounds of skin against skin and Anakin’s labored breathing.

“Are you okay in there ?” Obi-Wan asks, voice worried.

Anakin doesn't answer. He can't answer without risking letting out a pretty suggestive moan. Instead he bites his tongue firmly, using his other hand to play with one of his nipples, rolling it between his fingers and tugging at it to add a stimulation to his already overwhelmed body.

“Anakin ?”

The door opens at the same time Anakin topples over the edge of his orgasm, spilling between his fingers and against the wall of the shower with a choked, pathetic sound. Pleasure comes in waves, making him fuck messily into his fist to chase it, cum spurting again and again until it calms down, leaving him lightheaded and oversensitive. Leaning forward to press his forehead against the cold tiles, he drags one of his dripping fingers between his ass cheeks, pressing it against his tight hole.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when a spark of pleasure ignites deep inside his lower back, making him arch and push his ass against the fingers massaging his rim.

The haze of his first orgasm starts to dissipate, progressively replaced by another fire in his belly. A second of clarity reminds him that he's supposed to get out of the shower to let Obi-Wan clean but it feels so good and he doesn't hear his Master’s voice anymore.

That’s when he realizes that he's not alone, his senses sharpening suddenly as he notices another presence in his space.

Before he can even glance behind his shoulder he feels cold fingers curling around his hips, making him jump and choke on his saliva.

“What-”

“Can’t you masturbate and shield your thoughts at the same time ?” Obi-Wan’s hot breath brushes against his ear.

Anakin gasps, his face burning in shame as he tries to make sense of what is happening. He tries to remove his hand from between his legs, tries to do whatever, anything to protect the last bit of his dignity but Obi-Wan is faster, grabbing his wrist to keep him in place.

“Be a good Padawan and continue what you were doing.”

“But M-Master…” Anakin whimpers, placing his other hand on the wall in front of him to stabilize himself.

“Don’t you want to be good for me ?” Obi-Wan whispers against his ear. “Isn’t it what you want the most in your life ?”

“Yes.” Anakin breathes out, cheeks burning hot at the idea that Obi-Wan discovered his dirty little secret. “That’s what I want. More than anything.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan praises, wrapping his hand around Anakin’s one to press his fingers back against his abandoned hole. “Then finger yourself open for me.”

Anakin moans and bites his lip when he feels the press of his fingers, guided by his Master's, against the delicate muscle. Obi-Wan makes him massage his rim for a while before pressing the tip of two of Anakin’s fingers inside. Anakin lets out a shaky breath, trying to relax as much as possible against the intrusion.

“You already did that to yourself, right ?” Obi-Wan asks before nipping at his earlobe.

“Yes.” Anakin draws a sharp breath when Obi-Wan pushes his fingers deeper. “Oh.”

“Were you thinking about me ?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan groans at the answer, tugging on Anakin’s hand to remove his fingers before pushing them back inside.

“Look at yourself fucking your own fingers. You’re so perfect.”

Anakin cries out at the sensation, shame and adoration mixing in his chest at Obi-Wan’s words.

“Want to be perfect for you.” He whines, starting to scissor himself open.

“You’re doing so good.” Obi-Wan hums against his hair, setting the pace of Anakin’s movements. “Make yourself nice and ready for me, sweetheart.”

Anakin feels dizzy at the implication. Is Obi-Wan going to fuck him ?

“Master ?” He pants, letting their bond fill the blanks for him.

“That’s what you want, right ?” Obi-Wan rasps, teeth grazing against his neck. “Thinking so hard about me when you’re touching yourself ?”

“Yes.” Anakin nods rapidly. “Yes. Please.”

“Then your pretty fingers are not going to be enough.” Obi-Wan replies. “Let me help.”

Anakin can feel the grip on his wrist relax just before one of Obi-Wan’s fingers slips between the ones already inside him, spreading him even wider.

“Fuck !” He hisses at the sudden stretch, trying to withdraw from the touch by reflex. “Too much.”

Obi-Wan kisses his neck, nuzzling gently behind his ear.

“You’re doing great, love. It’s going to take more than three fingers if you want my cock.”

“I can’t.” Anakin pants, feeling like his legs were going to give way beneath him.

“Yes, you can.” Obi-Wan replies softly, starting to move his finger ever so slightly between Anakin’s. “Relax, Anakin. Breathe.”

Anakin takes a shaky breath, trying to focus on his Master’s warmth against his back, the tickling of his beard against his neck and the way his steady hands were supporting him, pleasuring him.

It's easier after a while, his body adapting to the stretch and making his muscles soft and pliant once again as Obi-Wan fingers him with more ease.

The sensation of both of their fingers fucking inside him is exhilarating and soon pleasure hits Anakin back again, making his lower belly tense and his cock leak abundantly.

“I’m- I’m going to come.” He warns Obi-Wan between two shaky moans.

Obi-Wan pulls both of their fingers out, then, making Anakin gasp loudly at the loss.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praises, brushing his knuckles along Anakin's defined back. “Look at you.”

The gesture makes Anakin blush and whine impatiently.

“Take me.” He demands. “Let me please you too, Master.”

Obi-Wan presses against his back, wrapping his arms around his waist, the weight of his hard cock pushing against the cleft of Anakin’s ass.

“You’re such a good boy, Anakin. Do you know that ?” He murmurs against his ear before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“For you.” Anakin whimpers. “ Only for you. Please.”

“Mmh.”

Obi-Wan wraps one of his large hands around Anakin’s hips, locking him in place while the other guides the head of his cock down the cleft of his ass, dragging slick precome down to his already abused hole. Then he pushes inside in one slow and firm motion, making Anakin cry and press both of his hands against the wall.

“Fuck, Obi-Wan !”

“You feel so good, dearest.” Obi-Wan sighs against his neck, settling comfortably deep inside him. “You’re made for me, I knew it.”

Anakin grits his teeth, trying to breath through the burning sensation accompanying the challenging stretch of Obi-Wan’s cock. He closes his eyes for a while, remembering that he wanted this.

“Move.” He groans when the sensation starts getting too unpleasant.

Obi-Wan doesn't need to be asked twice. He starts thrusting gently inside him as soon as Anakin asks him to, well aware that his stillness might feel uncomfortable.

Anakin grunts at this new, weird sensation. For now he doesn't know if he likes it or not, Obi-Wan’s cock feeling more like an intrusion than an object of pleasure.

That is until Obi-Wan changes the angle of Anakin’s hips, the head of his cock brushing against something that sends a jolt of electricity along his spine, making his toes curl and his muscles tense automatically.

“Ah !”

“Found it.” Obi-Wan smiles smugly against his neck. “Feels good, mh ?”

“Shut up and do that again.” Anakin grunts, pushing his hips back to chase that thrilling feeling again.

“At your service.”

When Obi-Wan moves again, Anakin lets his head fall against the wall, his whole body tensing with raw pleasure.

“Fuck, yes.”

Obi-Wan does it again, and again until Anakin begs him to go faster, to give him more. He's on his tiptoes, back arched as Obi-Wan presses him against the wall with each thrust of his hips. There’s no more shame in his moans or in the way he asks for what he wants, for what feels good. And what feels good right now is Obi-Wan’s thick cock hitting his prostate relentlessly while he drools against the cold wall, head empty. He knows he's close but he’s not able to form a coherent sentence anymore.

“Obi-Wan…” He whines instead.

“I know, love.” Obi-Wan pants right next to his face. “I’m close too.”

Anakin moans, using his last bits of strength to reach out behind and grab his Master’s thighs, pressing him even closer.

“Say it.” He breathes. “Tell me.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t need to ask for clarification. He leans forward, pressing his lips against Anakin’s ear.

“You’re so good for me, Anakin.” He whispers adoringly. “Such a good boy. I love you so much.”

It’s all it takes for Anakin’s mind to go blank, his whole body tensing as pleasure explodes into his lower belly, flooding his senses with the intensity of it, making him cry out and cum for what felt like an eternity.

When he’s done, his body going limp against the wall, he stays there for a little while, feeling high with endorphins, bathing in the scent of soap, hot water and sex.

He’s almost going to doze off when a sharp knock on the door pulls him roughly from his fantasies.

“Anakin ?” Obi-Wan’s annoyed voice resonates on the other side. “Are you done in here ? It’s been almost an hour !”

#obikinpromptober2024 #obikin prompts #obikin #anakin x obi wan #obi wan x anakin #aniobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars #my writing

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ranticore · 7 months ago

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Hi has anyone ever told you Ice Storm Over Kosa has impeccable vibes and feels incredibly innovative and fresh!

In terms of the towns and communities, what types of infrastructure connects them? What kinds of technologies are common vs cutting edge in the setting’s different time periods?

hehe thank you.. i really like how the setting tag is just one of the character's names so it looks like you're saying He has impeccable vibes

So there is a huge huge almost insurmountable limiting factor when it comes to the growth of towns and communities, which is that large aggregations of living creatures will attract the crawly beasts and they pollute the earth, make crops wither and die away, kill livestock, kill people, etc, and humans can't even touch them with protective gloves on since the crawlers' fluids eat through leather

humanity (and monsters) were forced to spread out over a larger surface area. villages and settlements are small and have to be actively defended almost nightly. there has been a slight stagnation of the march of progress, as just fighting off this threat takes up so much of everyone's resources, and forbids institutes of learning and the like from forming. so most of the technological advancements we see, they are in the field of long-range communication, weaponry (falconry too), and material technology that might repel crawling beasts

in prehistory, the land now called "the Ama plains" hosted a gigantic city with a hundred thousand people living in it, called Amphora. it was very advanced for its time period, with working plumbing, hot and cold water even, mass production of cloth and food, etc (not to mention the magic). Amphora no longer exists and most of its innovations were lost.

in the early time period after the arrival of the crawling beasts, humanity and monsterkind are scattered. the only established settlements are those guarded by wyrms, but it took many centuries to reach that point. human towns are ruled by small feudal lords who may form loose alliances with one another but typically rule their land as if it's a lone island in the middle of a vast sea. this is the time of Revelation's march. the most established settlement is the city of Onozar in the far west of Ama, which is ruled by a king who has a hold over many of the neighbouring towns and lords, by virtue of Onozar's size and relative safety. technology levels are low; no firearms, trebuchets and crossbows are cutting edge.

in the time of Twist and Flicker, there is an age of unprecedented cooperation with monsters (Revelation's march might have had something to do with this change). This means that towns and villages are now usually protected by something other than a wyrm - this ranges from willing cooperation to cruel self-styled 'monster tamers' who force monsters to do their bidding. This is the dawning age of harpy falconry as described in the lil story i wrote about Ice Storm of Kosa himself, though back then the old method was to make a contract with an adult harpy and cooperate that way. The infrastructure is still not very advanced; they're still struggling with plumbing and sewage systems, because crawlies come out of the ground and their poison can seep into aquifers. Anyway communication between towns is usually done by pigeon (or pigeon harpy). The ground is not a safe place to be, so houses are typically built on short stilts, or at the very least, residential rooms are upstairs. Water supply is often provided by elevated aqueducts; wells are a last resort, but often the only choice for impoverished villages. There is a culture of fear surrounding large gatherings and groups - sometimes it's unavoidable, and human/monster nature, but that anxiety is always there.

With this increased cooperation between humans and monsters, people are able to gather in larger groups. this enables more learning, more apprenticeships, more farmlands, and a more rapid development of technology. It also means a more centralised ruling system begins to form; it takes a lot of resources to supply a pack of wolfmen or a harpy flock to defend a town, so small towns must make petitions to their more prosperous neighbours, and this develops into a Government of the entire region. firearms develop in this time as a means to kill crawling beasts; they are not that successful, and it takes a while before people realise you can use firearms to kill other things, too.

A century later, developments are progressing well enough. Firearms are still rare but starting to spread. Harpy falconers have developed a new, effective technique for their art, it's called "kidnapping"; steal an egg, and raise the chick to imprint on its human parents. that way it won't want to leave. There is a sense of teetering on an edge; humanity leaning more into forcing monsters to help, instead of cooperating. But this is not the progression; the success of the Kosa flock helps convince many falconers that the kidnapping method isn't the best after all. technology is still uh bad, but this is an era where writing materials are finally becoming more mainstream, literacy rates are slowly rising. the printing press is the hot new thing. they have water towers now to provide the plumbing at a safe elevation. communication between villages is still very dove-based, since flight is the safest method of travel.

fire is the only thing that both kills and neutralises the poison of a crawling beast. by this time, progress has been made to develop "automatic fire machines". so all the R&D people put into guns in the real world was put into flamethrowers instead. it's easy enough to rig up a system that pumps out burning oil, but these devices are usually stationary, heavy, and fixed at the gates of the various more prosperous town walls.

#i realised that using time periods like '1700s' or '1800s' doesn't really make sense here.. i'll need to name the ages properly #ice storm over kosa #idk how well i answered the question. i have a lot more to think about especially the cultural hangups that would have developed #and also how war itself would have changed #I FORGOT TO HIT PUBLISH. THIS IS THE POST WITH THE STORY LINK

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metalomagnetic · 7 months ago

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I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.

#my writing #it runs in the blood

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cosmerelists · 7 months ago

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Tumblr Call-Out Posts of Cosmere Characters

If people were able to write call-out posts of Cosmere characters as if they were real people, those call-out posts might look like this.

1. Hoid

@libralita already wrote this one: https://www.tumblr.com/libralita/734739225821446144/some-planet-culturally-appropriated-the-marewill?source=share.

2. Siri

Just so you know siri does EXTREME fast fashion: we're talking--never wears the same outfit more than once and BURNS every outfit after she wears it and also every day she burns a couple other outfits she never even wore just for good measure. also she deliberately kept asking for fancier and fancier outfits so like even more material just needlessly burned up into pollution smoke

3. Adolin

Adolin's girlfriend is four years younger than him. Not so bad, right? WRONG. These are ROSHARAN years, which are longer than ours, it's actually way more than 4 years--probably 6. Or 8. Maybe even 10.

He's basically dating a girl a decade younger than him hello

4. MeLaan

Don't you think it's creepy that MeLaan--from a species that eats human remains--dates a human? How is that not a predatory relationship?

5. Riina

Riina built a giant spaceship shaped like a p*nis, sexually harassing a whole planet. :(

6. Lift

Just saying. Calling anyone "Tightbutt" is sexual harassment.

7. Dalinar

Brought people into his visions without getting their consent. Probably the worst thing Dalinar ever did. :(

8. Galladon

You might think that being quarantined in a horrible plague-city due to having "walking corpse" disease would make a man understand that diseases are dangerous and that maybe world hopping to a new planet without doing proper containment procedures and spreading a viral infection to an entire region is bad maybe

But you would be wrong in the case of Galladon who DID THAT

9. Kelsier

anyone who still supports kelsier after kelsier made his employee eat his bones needs to take a long, hard look in a mirror because it is NOT okay to feed ANY part of your skeleton to someone who works for you

10. Szeth

Keeping a sword sheathed all the time is exactly the same as keeping an animal in a cage--a sword can NOT get proper enrichment inside a sheath. Would you like to be kept continuously in a dark and suffocating place where you can't move or breathe? No? Then why would you be okay with keeping a sentient sword locked in a sheath all the time?

Szeth's cruel treatment of Nightblood makes me SICK

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Hoid #Siri #Adolin #Szeth #Keslier #Galldon #Riina #MeLaan #Lift #Dalinar

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 7 months ago

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If I had to rewrite Changing Skies:

Tawnypelt

The Clans are going to fight the humans.

Tigerstar is too busy leading and keeping everyone calm, so he sends Tawnypelt and whatever friends she wants to go on a mission to find out how they can stop the Twolegs.

Tawnypelt doesn't really WANT to, but does it because she wants her son to know she trusts his judgment.

She brings along Crowfeather (let me cook) and Brambleclaw. (LET ME COOK)

First major event is Crowfeather dying. He gets a terrible wound on his back leg from doing something Tawnypelt TOLD HIM NOT TO, and the infection kills him.

Tawny and Bramble are on their own now, and tensions are high. Not only that, but they have NO CLUE what to do, and the Twolegs are getting closer every day...

The only clue they have is with a strange kittypet named Rufus, wearing a strange bulky collar.

Tawnypelt is getting angry, and tired with Brambleclaw. He isn't the brother she thought he was, and their relationship has been fractured since the reveal that he trained in The Dark Forest. Sure, she supported him during TBC, but that ended up not being HIM and it was a terrible mistake to make...

It's his insistence that she listen to him, that he "prove himself", that he is the choice-maker and... Tawny's had enough.

"Brambleclaw, you're older than most cats around the lake, for Starclan's sake, GROW UP ALREADY!"

He leaves, insisting that he knows what is best, and she'll feel so sorry once he's right! No one ever believes in him, just because of his father!

She finds his body the next day. Rufus helps her bury him, but there isn't time to dwell, she needs to keep going. Rufus keeps walking up to humans wearing sleek white pelts that hild little flashing boxes up to Tawnypelt, he keeps saying it's fine but the way he lets them PICK him UP is going to give her a heart attack!

Kids these days. (Affectionate. Bewildered. 3 seconds from signing adoption papers.)

Leafstar

Leafstar is suffering from depression, and notices that her sight is starting to dim.

Fidgetflake tells her that she is developing cataracts, and Leafstar just takes it as "one more thing to happen to me". Her mate has died, her daughter Stormheart was killed in the horrific war against Splashstar and Berrystar that she herself barely made it out of with her last life... Her children have grown and have kits of their own, they don't need her anymore, cats don't want to talk with her...

She's completely lost her spark, and finds no joy in anything. She's not only losing her vision in a physical sense, but she's lost her 'vision' for Skyclan.

She also needs to hold the election for a new deputy, as Skyclan does things differently, and Hawkwing has been killed by a polluted stream.

The candidates are: Violetshine (who now has trained Beetlepaw instead of Reedclaw), Macgyver, and Rileypool (death swapped with Sagenose and mentored Kitescratch).

Violetshine is selected, and immediately some cats are calling for her to be made leader instead. A vote goes through, but not enough cats vote in the theoretical Violetstar's favour. (She doesn't mind!)

Leafstar is distraught when the construction comes Skyclan's way, poisoning their main stream and leading MANY cats to sickness, including her sweet granddaughter Wrenflight, born of Harrybrook and Bellaleaf.

The others Clans have less sympathy. Skyclan is using kittyp-er Daylight Warriors, they'll be fine if they just go back inside their homes. Maybe Starclan's angry that they're taking resources.

She slams her paw down onto the Moonpool's thin frozen surface, it cracks beneath her paw, the cold water spreading its horrible chill, ignored as Leafstar snarls at Starclan.

"Answer my pleas, stop punishing me, or my Clan, or I am taking us back to The Gorge, Other Clans be damned. Help us, or you will prove to me that you truly are a bunch of useless dead cats parading around with sparkling fur and empty promises!"

A ghostly figure appears, just for a moment, whispering to her.

"You may not have sight any longer, and I know all hope seems lost, Leafstar, but brighter times are coming. Do Not Let The Moon Fall."

Moonpaw

Since the writers wanna be awful about Sunbeam, I'm going to one-up them and do this pre-emptively.

Nightheart brought Sunbeam to Riverclan. He wasn't made Leader or Deputy, no, that was given to Icewing and Minnowtail.

Sunbeam, tragically, passed in childbirth soon after she got pregnant by accident... She left Nightheart with a single kitten, a tiny tortoiseshell tabby molly with a white chest, and wide blue and yellow eyes.

Nightheart, still stubborn about names and meaning and holding a grudge against his mother for not providing him with the Orange Gene, names his daughter Moonkit, determined to constantly remind her how she Doesn't Have To Be Like Sunbeam. She has quite a few friends, some in different Clans!

Moonpaw is apprenticed to Flame. An ex-Kin member that joined Riverclan during WCR!AVOS who Nightheart hates with a passion. Guess why.

Moonpaw is a good kid, but her relationship with her father is strained beyond belief. She wishes he would stop... Acting like this. Like he's the only cat to have ever suffered, stop arguing with her sweet mentor over the pettiest thing, stop comparing her to her mother in the most backwards way he can by trying to push her to somehow be the opposite of a cat she's never met...

She is good friends with Frostfeather and Whistlemoon, especially Whistlemoon, for obvious reasons. Moon buddies!

Moonpaw is dared by an older apprentice, Rapidpaw, to "go spend a night at the Moonpool when it's a new moon with all the ghosts!"

She's scared, not of the dark but if her dad finds out. "Sunbeam LOVED breaking rules!" He would always say, "But you can be good and do what YOU want. Just because your mother liked to stand out, doesn't mean you always have to! You can be special in your way!" She always saw Frostfeather glaring when he said that...

"Rule breaker." Frostfeather would scoff. "Didn't know her at all..."

Anyways, aside from a fright from a possum, she makes her way to the Moonpool with ease.

Too much ease.

She walks around, stepping into the pawprints on the ground, and batting a little plant that's growing at the entrance.

Not scary!

She walks into the main chamber, eyes sparkling and growing bigger as she lays eyes on the Moonpool for the first time.

It's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

In awe, Moonpaw slowly steps up to it, looking at her own reflection in the sparkling, crystal water, she pokes a paw in.

The gentle ripples lap at the edges, and Moonpaw swears she can hear a soft whispering.

Immediately though, she is bombarded with noise, giggling kittens, cats chatting with one another, and a soft warning.

"Careful, don't fall in!"

Moonpaw looks around for that voice, softer than any others, yet more clear. She stares into the crystal clear, sparkling water of the Moonpool, deeper, deeper, and deeper, drawing her in and making her more calm than she's ever felt...

She falls into the Moonpool.

#warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #leafstar #leafdapple #tawnypelt #crowfeather #brambleclaw #moonpaw #nightheart #sunbeam #frostpaw #whistlepaw #changing skies #moonpool

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balkanradfem · 2 years ago

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I've been reading 'The Climate Book' from Greta Thunberg, and I have to talk about it. I've never seen a book written so brilliantly and desperately, pleading for awareness, for action, for survival. I thought I was aware of the climate change, but there was a vast amount of information I did not know. I'll start from the ones I did.

I knew that the climate has already changed, and will continue to change until a lot of animal species will go extinct, and a big amount of human beings will suffer, end up impoverish, misplaced, in starvation, or dead. I knew the culprits were the companies that refused to stop taking down forests, burning fossil fuels, promoting lifestyles of consumerism, over-consumption, generated the amount of waste that the planet could not safely consume or store. I also knew that one of the biggest pollutants were big oil, animal and plant agriculture, fast fashion industry, travel industry, and the capitalistic system that enabled 1% of humanity to own and over-consume 90% of the resources available to us. Knowing this made me feel powerless, because even as I boycott all of it, I can't do much else, and I'm not enough to stop what is going on. I am merely a drop in the ocean - which is what Greta points out as well. But, Greta doesn't think we're powerless.

This book is incredible in the sense that it goes over and beyond to think practically. It doesn't despair, it doesn't panic, it doesn't think any other way but how to practically and effectively bring change, what are the options and possibilities, what is true and what is propaganda, how to avoid millions of deaths and extinctions that are sure to come, if we do nothing. Greta has analyzed all action that is 'being done', and found out most of it was fraud, cheating, lying. All of the governments and companies who were bragging about reduced emissions, or offsetting emissions, have simply found ways to outsource them and to emit them in another, poorer country. The amount of emissions has actually increased.

She has also interviewed the world leaders, and people responsible and suffering from climate change - and these are the results: Nobody feels responsible, nobody feels as if it's their turn to change, to reduce, to do anything to help it. Even interviewing people whose livelihood was taken away from them due to climate change, who have lost their living environments already, their trees and animals and fields and fertility and soil, when asked if they would be willing to work ecologically from now on, with reduced or low emissions, their answer was 'Why should we? It's not fair, they took from us and enjoyed, while we suffered. We won't stop until we have what they have. We deserve it.'

With this information, Greta has found a truth of how humans influence each other - we imitate. If we see someone else doing something, or having something we find desirable, we also want it. We look at ourselves in relation to other people that surround us, we take responsibility according to what others around do, and we hold ourselves accountable only as much as others do. And this is why we have a power that goes beyond individual action, beyond simply lowering our own emissions and boycotting companies that are responsible for pollution - we are able to influence others. We're able to influence the media, which forms public opinions, and using the media, force into action those who benefit from polluting the planet.

What I didn't know, and this book taught me, was that from the times humans started to hunt, they didn't only have a great effect on the environment, they were the absolute leading agent on it. Soon after hunting the megafauna into extinction, the environment started to change not just because we affected it, but because we directed it to. We caused the extinction of many species throughout the past, by hunting, taking wild spaces for our own use, polluting water sources, changing the climate, spreading predatory species, like cats and rats, and we didn't stop there. We changed the landscapes of forests and fields, into human-used agricultural land that was effectively deadened for the purpose of wildlife. We domesticated, and then farmed animals, to such extreme degree, that right now what is left of the wildlife, is mere 12-15% of all animals out there. More than 80% of current animals by weight living on earth, are put there by animal agriculture, meant for human consumption. That is absolutely insane. We did the same with the wildlife environment as well – there is now only 3% of the forests on earth, that are still considered intact. We changed the landscape, not only slightly, but by erasing most of it, making it unusable to animals, insects or wild plants, appropriated only for agriculture, grazing, and human-only environments. And, we dug up and released so much carbon into the air, it is coming close to the amount that we had on the earth, at the time of dinosaur extinction, which wiped out a third of the planet's species. And we keep doing it, even knowing what will happen, knowing that every single time this happened in the past, it created mass extinction.

I wasn't aware how serious and extreme the changes we made were. Knowing what is going out, makes it very clear why we have a crisis, it would be crazy to expect not to have one. These changes were not reported, nobody was asked to approve of them, there were no regulations or limits, no environmental studies on consequences, and it keeps going. We keep increasing the demand for agriculture and animal products, increasing our consumption even though we are running out of the natural resources used to create the products. And it is not our fault. Most of the food and meat created by destroying this land, will go to waste, for the profit of the corporations. The world will keep living in starvation, despite so much of natural life getting destroyed for food, despite the climate crisis being caused, partly by our food production.

This doesn't mean we can't sustainably feed ourselves anymore, it just means we can't do it the way we're used to. It just tells us we need to use more resilient and less land and water consuming food. Plant based diets demand less soil and emit less carbon, gardening reduces the amount of agricultural space needed to feed us, supporting and protecting wildlife wherever it's still thriving, will save both soil, animal species, and biodiversity that is very quickly fading from the planet.

I've also learned that even as we're close to the tipping point, but haven't reached it yet. Whatever we do right now that stops us from reaching it, will mean the difference between life and death to the future generations of people, animals, and plants. If we manage to make changes now, to stop the ice from melting past the tipping point, we can save millions of lives, that would end in certain death otherwise. If we can create policies that are not volountary but binding, we have a chance to save livable land, animal and plant species, biodiversity, and human quality of life. It's not too late to act, in fact, this is the vital time to act, and we're the only ones who can do it.

And the way you can act is not just by reducing waste, reducing the amount of energy you consume, reducing animal-products in your food and refusing to waste and throw away usable goods, but by being public about it. By making it clear it's a positive improvement on your life, on your quality of life, that it's both moral and enjoyable, both inspiring and encouraging others to do the same. Some of us have bigger impact on others than we might know, and if we start doing it and visibly enjoying it, there are others who will follow.

This book has taught me immense amount of science behind the climate crisis, and gave me incentive to do more than just live and feel helpless, I need to do more. I recommend this book to anyone wanting to learn more, and wanting to act more. I will be from now on, writing more about ecology and preserving the planet, and how to do it. If we're the directors of where this planet is going, we have to be so intentionally, with knowledge, wisdom and awareness of what we are doing. We can do good, and humans have been doing good, any time there's been wisdom, awareness and intention in how we're shaping the environment. And if anyone wants the book in the audio form, send me a message and I will give it to you.

#Greta Thunberg #The Climate Book #book review #climate crisis #climate change #global warming #actions to stop global warming #impacting others to understand and prevent the worst of the worst #carbon emissions #lying politicians

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