#Feral Children Colony

[druidgroves]

things that mac just says to georgia that make her automatically concerned about his childhood.

[viiioca]

i love heavensward: a series of bulletin points

your last ally in all the city-states is an elf who would unironically lick the sweat from your armpits in front of the entire congregation. he begs his dad to let you couch surf. one of his brothers admits to your face that he wished you would die

two members of the swiss guard arrest your children so you punch them in the neck until the judge says you're free to go. the pope personally calls you to apologize for the trouble

ilberd tries and fails to hotbox you to death

a hot elf wife takes you on vacation to a nest full of cool bugs

anytime there's a serious moment estinien challenges the tone of the scene by pulling a giant novelty eyeball out of his pants which is played 100% straight every single time. not a single soul questions this or reacts in surprise

the prettiest elf in the world gets arrested trying to yell at his dad

Occupy The Vatican Right Fucking Now!!!!

the pope stances on the deck of an airship and flies away into the sunset after his eunuch traumatizes you

the emperor of garlemald shows up to call you a dipshit, leaves, and then you don't see him personally again for 1.5 expansion packs

we summon a naked catgirl and the first thing tataru does is give her a pair of louboutins and put a bow on her little kitty tail. she is the most deadly serious person in the entire organization

you take a quick detour to visit the angriest woman who's ever lived who calls you and everyone you're with a pointless dumbfuck moron shit idiot (affectionate). then she gives you a gun she invented that sharlayan banned for being too cool

theres a flying allagan war crimes factory full of broken robots who think you're stupid. an entire legion of garleans are abandoned here to form a feral colony with the escaped lab animals. the robots make fun of them

the dad of all the dragons on the whole planet calls you his favorite in front of his real child who he hasnt talked to in 4000 years

an evil wizard tries to get revenge on you for killing his cousin but the pope loads his soul into a bong and takes the fattest rip. the next time you meet him you mostly learn about how much his wife bullied him

estinien picks up a second eyeball. surprise development!: there is an angry dragon ghost living in the eyeballs

thancred gets punched in the face

you watch two dragon brothers fight because one called the other's dead wife a foul and trifling hoe

you save your friend through the power of friendship, and littering. as soon as he feels better he jumps out of a window and doesnt talk to you for two years

the guy from the box art wont stop trying to kill you because he is actually john videogames: astral traveler

after 15 hours of wondering what happened to all the scions and learning just the ones you've been able to FIND were flung into the afterlife, you discover lyse and papalymo are fine. they werent even hurt. they have been playing desert dress up with the ala mhigans while youve been freezing your pussy off trying to end a multigenerational religious war with the dragons and depose a corrupt head of state. they tried to send one letter and then gave up

the consequences of littering catch up with you. in eorzea, the fine is $Giant Dragon

[anonymous-bastard]

Now I'm curious.

I should get a cat.

[3liza]

u know no one is thinking of it this way, because they aren't thinking at all, so I'm going to just be a huge bummer about it on my blog and I'm sorry: I don't think a fandom about a colony of catastrophically inbred, chronically sick and injured and FIV infected street cats who will statistically die violently before their 2nd birthdays is cute or interesting sorry. I don't think people tipping a twitch streamer to feed them continually so they breed out of control instead of using what must be an immense amount of money to trap and rescue them is cute either. "all these visibly suffering homeless animals are so cute" it's like that fad in the 1960s of decorating your home with paintings of dirty homeless starving children. it's like throwing corn into a sealed water tank full of trapped rats for tips on the internet. no thanks 👍 no thank you 👍👍👍👍

edit: TNR is not an effective population management tool for feral cats

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

normal borrowers that are just regular people who happen to wear a shirt held together with a safety pin: boring. uninspired. will be sucked up into my dyson vacuum

feral borrowers that mimic the behavior of pack animal societies: peak. outstanding. phenomenal. chad.

EXAMPLES

a human befriends an injured borrower, nursing them back to health (after a bit of fussing), and releasing them back where they found them. only now, the borrower keeps returning with some sort of 'gift' as repayment, usually something shiny but worthless, in typical crow behavior. teach this borrower about money and you may have a pocket thief in training.

a full colony of borrowers living out in the open freely in an 87 yo woman's house in lieu of an ungodly amount of cats. but its fine, even though she's legally blind and still has a driver's license, because she already says random batshit stuff so no one blinks an eye when she talks about her tiny housemates. she still feeds all of them twice a day and they watch jeopardy with her at 7pm sharp every night.

a human starts leaving food out for stray animals since they're in a rural area, only to discover one of the visitors is a borrower. after weeks and months of earning their trust, they're happy to have made a breakthrough. immediately afterwards, the borrower returns with their children and newborn baby in tow like every mama mammal so congrats on becoming a co parent.

and of course the classic, the beloved, abandoned borrower randomly clinging to a human's calf like a baby squirrel because they've decided This One shall be their new caretaker.

[thenamesblurrito]

finished this and then forgot to post it whoops!

so everybody knows scraplets are harmless little omnivorous pests, hungry buggers but only likely to chew on you if they're absolutely starving. comparable to rats, they're adaptable, decently intelligent, and even friendly if you're careful. Whirl hides steel woolies under his bunk to feed a growing scraplet colony he affectionately refers to as his children. but, much like everything else in SNAP, all it takes is a little supernatural interference to turn docility into danger...

in s1e10- An All-Consuming Hunger! An Upgrade to Friendship, something new stalks the streets: mecannibals. bigger, hungrier, and meaner than regular scraplets, they don't seem interested in eating trash so much as eating living metal. skittering hordes of them swarm Iacon, treating people like prey, and worst of all they seem to be able to socialize with other scraplets and infect them with their hunger, spreading the mecannibal menace. the heroes drive them off by the end of the episode, but that isn't the last we see of them

by s1e13- All My Friends Are Food! An Upgrade to Cannibals, the undercity of Iacon feels... wrong. junkers have been going missing, more than usual, and even Enforcers are noticing shapes skittering in the shadows. an uptick of missing persons cases reaches its crescendo with the reveal of Stinger, a sapient, self-contained swarm of mecannibals, a rat king ready to build an underground empire of gnawed struts and spilt energon. Stinger's organized army is much harder for the heroes to combat this time. a lot of ordinary folk are forced to fight back themselves, or flee for their lives like bitty Bumblebee. even when they do succeed, mecannibal bites leave lifelong scars. it takes desperate coordination and teamwork to bring Stinger down and end the reign of hunger, but hunting down every last feral mecannibal is the work of months

the stragglers keep popping up every so often. they make nice snacks for Gatoraider, and prove to be yet another threat for junkers just trying to survive. it's not until s2e08- See Things My Way! An Upgrade to Triptych that the last of them are finally flushed out of hiding in one final swarm, pouring into the halls of the JAAT itself

[enbycrip]

Scientifically, cats literally relate to humans in at least a partially parental way.

Making biscuits on you is a kitten behaviour. Cats learned to make cries that have elements of human infant sounds as part of their self-domestication. They literally seek a relationship with us with features of parenthood to it.

Yes, they can absolutely tell the difference between human children and adults and also co-parent with us on kittens AND human infants - that’s why many cats will put up with clumsiness and somewhat unwieldy love from their human’s babies and toddlers that they would never tolerate from an adult human, because that is *their* giant hairless kitten too, and they *get* that kittens are clumsy and playful and don’t mean harm.

Feral cats live in colonies and have complex social relationships. They can react to us as adults *and* as parents, because that’s a common situation in colonies.

I hate when people who, frankly tend to not understand animal social behaviour even slightly, denigrate our relationships with our animal companions. It’s too frequently just anthrocentric BS; this idea that humans aren’t another animal too and that one of our species behaviours isn’t seeking community, including with other species as well as our own.

None of this means it’s okay to treat a cat like a human baby, or worse yet like a toy. The point is that cats are autonomous social beings like us, even if the way they manifest that is different from the majority of humans or dogs, and having a form of a parental relationship with your cat is absolutely fine, same as having a sibling relationship, or a roommate relationship, and people who denigrate others for regarding their animal companions as autonomous beings with their own needs, personalities and emotions are being shitty.

[syncopein3d]

Always remember that whether Firstborn or Primaris, space marines are more social than humans and they should NEVER be kept in groups of less than two. If you can't afford at least two Astartes, you simply cannot afford to keep Astartes at all.

I know everyone knows someone who knows someone who claims they have a Cypher or a Sevatar, but almost all of them are lying. "Lone wolf" marines are not healthy or happy marines and are not safe for you, either. They're essentially feral.

In general, Astartes thrive best in groups of five to ten. Imperial chapters may do better in larger groups, especially Black Templars, but be careful; you can accidentally start a migratory Crusade, and that's just a mess.

Chaos Astartes are more territorial and competitive and most prefer to form small, close units called "warbands." If you want to build a more organized and independent warband you can watch and enjoy as it grows, you may want to start setting up your feeder tribute colony before you get your first Iron Warriors or Black Legionnaires.

Do NOT introduce daemon engines yourself! A healthy warband will start weaponizing the Warp on a production scale when and if they are ready. I know it's tempting to rush things, but a warband has to be big enough and well-fed enough to support these bigger and more difficult units before Neverborn are introduced.

World Eaters are suitable as working Astartes only, not as pets! It's better, as a new keeper, to start out with a small band of Emperor's Children or Thousand Sons, which are pretty and more comfortable in tac squad-sized groups. Deathguard can be very rewarding and fun to watch, but they have special needs and require a lot of social enrichment, and that takes special equipment and procedures, too.

Word Bearers are the only exception to the "never start out with daemons" rule, but due to their more unique needs, are only recommended for expert keepers. Not just any kind of tattoo ink and candles will do!

[vibratingskull]

Hello hello! happy new year 🎊🎊🎊!!! I was just wondering if you could do a part two to the stranded fic you wrote for Thrawn (totally optional ofc ignore this if you want‼️‼️‼️) I think it would be interesting to see the aftermath of their relationship like are they rescued or not? If they're not do they just say fuck it let's start a family? If so do they eventually get discovered by the rebels/empire (sort of like the plot for Ahsoka ig???) And they're like yo look at me and my family haha fuck y'all I'm not going back to civil society I love my partner and our children! (If you can't tell I have been thinking about this situation for ages it's making me go crazy with the possibilities) Your fics feed my soul tbh I'd actually die for your writing I go feral when you update the JC series or just post something in general 💞💞💞 (idk how to end this lmao I barely request stuff LMAOOOO idk if I'm even doing it right 😭) (also feel free to make it as horny as you want you can literally make it the sexiest of smut or just make it completely cute and tooth rottingly sweet!!!!!) (Again ignore this if it's something you're not interested in or if it breaks a rule or something!!!!!!)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw thank you love ❤️Happy new year to you too❤️Thank you for your support, my dear. I hope you will love this one too❤️

Part 1

ThrawnxF!reader

Tag : Non descriptive birth, cunni, P in V, creampie

You open your eyes, your face bathing in a ray of sun. It is already quite hot outside, but the hut retains the freshness of the night quite well. You rise in a seating position, on your mattress of hay and palm tree leaves in a sheet of linen. Next to you Thrawn’s spot is cold already, he must be awake for some time now. You wince as your baby hits your tummy.

“I’m sorry darling, you must be hungry.” You gently caress your swollen stomach. “I will find something for us to eat.”

You stand up on your feet, a little bit unbalanced by your pregnant stomach and head for the main place. You wave at your neighbors that go around their business, greeting you in return.

A month after escaping the cannibal village you crossed paths with another alien species, beings you can at best described as frog people with their globulous eyes and slimy greenish skin, but full of kindness and a strong community sense. They welcomed you in their village, feeded you and soothed your wounds, and contrary to the cannibal village Thrawn did not detect any ill intent or habits in their art. He analyzed that they were former peaceful wanderers of the universe that crashed on the planet like you did millennia ago. In fact, the village is right next to the destroyed carcass of the ship that brought them here, the survivor took everything useful from the ship and built a new community.

They now speak a bastardization of Basic, permitting you to communicate with them quite well, even if there are still some mishaps here and there. You came to discover the cannibals took them regularly for preys and they had the greatest difficulties at repelling them, their former peaceful ways led to a more armed culture but they are still not efficient soldiers. That’s when Thrawn intervened. He trained with their warriors to get used to their different weapons and tactics and convinced the chiefs to let him lead their warriors on the next attack. 

And he did.

Successfully. 

For the first time in the millenia of conflict between the two species the frog people didn’t lose any lives or children to the cannibals. The party that followed that night was grandiose and flashy, the frog people warmly thanked Thrawn and offered you both to stay at the village.  

You accepted, given they weren’t murderous cannibals. Thrawn pondered the question longer, still focused on the possibility of finding a way to come back to the Empire.

There wasn’t.

The frog people spreaded all around the globe of that planet and established colonies on all the continents and kept a tight diplomatic bond between each colony. The chiefs proposed you remain in the village to relax for while they sent messages to the other colonies to ask them. You have been in the village for some weeks now but Thrawn decided he would go to meet the other colony and have the chance to ask for himself. And you would not let his politically incompetent ass go anywhere alone unless you wanted him to create chaos, so you decided to go with him. But the morning of your departure you started puking and couldn’t walk without feeling weak so Thrawn carried you bridal style to the healer of the tribe, deciding to postpone his travel until you knew what was going on.

And you didn’t have to wait long.

After examining your body and checking your hormonal balance with some reactives plants the healer determined that you were pregnant! You had a moment of silence, brain frozen, taking in the news and asked for other tests to be conducted immediately, she obliged, and ended up with the same results. Thrawn wasn’t in the hut, politely waiting outside while she examined your body.

You were at a loss of words. A multitude of contradicting emotions raging in your brain and heart.

You were pregnant? Chiss and humans are compatible?

How would Thrawn react? How should YOU react? It was one thing to share a night of passion with your enemy turned ally while you were stranded, carrying his child and heir was a complete other matter!The healer noticed your clear lack of enthusiasm and asked if you wanted to terminate the pregnancy now.

You had no words. Should you do it? Should you not? How would your comrades react at the sight of you bearing the child of the Grand Admiral Thrawn?

Should you even tell him? If you took the preparation she was handing you and terminated the pregnancy in its early stage, was it even worth informing Thrawn?

You decided that yes.

It was.

You called for him and he entered the hut, kneeling down next to you he gently put a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers in a reassuring gesture. You smiled at him gently and warned him to stay seated for the news. He turned to the healer, squinting his eyes in concentration and maybe some worry.

“Is it a dangerous illness?” He asked, “Is her life at risk?”

“Her life is at risk, but not by an illness. This is simply the circle of life.”

He tilted his head, clearly not understanding the healer's words. You took his hand and squeezed it, looking at him in the eyes.

“Thrawn…” You started, deadly serious, “I am pregnant.”

He fully turned to you in complete silence, his eyes barely rounding up in surprise, his control remaining total. Will you one day be able to surprise this man?

He remained mute for a full minute, eyes fixed in yours, before opening his mouth.

“Do you want this child?” Was his only question, his only worry.

“I… Do not know.” You confessed. “What if we find a way to go home?”

“I would not impose you to follow me in the Empire’s ranks.”

“Then could I deprive this child of their father? Could I tell them their parents are mortal enemies?”

“Maybe you could send them to me.” He proposed.

“And have them in the Imperial system? Out of the question! My child will not be an imperial pawn!” You exclaimed resolutely.

“I could send them to the Ascendancy.” He proposed again.

You pondered that possibility. You live a dangerous life made of battles and combats, constantly on the run. Thrawn has more stability, but you will not make your child and Imperial citizen, they will be free and nothing else. Sending them to the Ascendancy, to Thrawn original worlds however… might be their best chances. He talked to you about it for long hours, revealing to you his memories, maybe… Maybe this is the best you could offer that child.

Of course it would mean being separated from your own flesh and blood, but the life you would give them isn’t a life for a child.

“That’s a good idea.” You finally nod. “It would be a more stable environment for them.”

Thrawn squeezed your hand approvingly in response

“But do you even want this child?” You raise your head to him, “We never talked about it. We don’t even know what we are.”

Since that night you shared, you didn’t leave each other's side, living, sleeping, bathing together, just spending the days hand in hand. But you are not in a regular situation, is a relationship started in such extreme conditions as of a crash a stable basis for a healthy couple? Do the standard relationships apply to you? So far away from all laws and civilization do putting a label on your situation even make sense?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You are the one carrying the embryo, you have the final word. But if you ask me : yes. I want that child.”

But you are still unsure. Are you ready to be a mom? Delivery in those conditions could be incredibly dangerous for you and the baby, what about infections, complications? The frog people kept some techniques and technology from when they still traveled the universe but a lot of machinery simply died for lack of energy source or repair pieces. Could you give birth away from the comfort and security offered by a hospital?

The healer took the powder and poured it in an envelope that she handed to Thrawn.

“Take the time to think about it.” She simply said, giving you a bay to eat to help with nausea.

You exited the little hut in silence, the envelope pressed against your chest. Thrawn circled your shoulders with his arm.

“We need to talk.” He said very seriously, “Let’s put you to bed, first.”

He guided you to your hut and helped you lay down, putting the traveling gear in one corner of the room.

“I am sorry.” You breathed, “I’m slowing you down.”

“No need for excuses. You are forgiven.” He responded by coming back to you, kneeling at your side.

He put his hand on your forehead to take your temperature very delicately.

“Are you comfortable?” 

You nod, the nausea slowly subsiding. He remains silent for a long moment, only caressing your forehead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But he is never lost, merely reorganizing his brain like a computer.

“What?” you asked with a little voice.

“Nothing.” He said.

“You are fixing me so intently.”

“I am simply thinking, I thought about what you said: “We don’t even know what we are”.”

You purse your lips. It’s true you said that.

You were content about what you had all this time but the prospect of a child put everything into perspective and demanded clarifications.

“I am not wrong. We never really discussed about us, just lived in the present moment.” you argue.

“You are right, it was not a criticism.” He tampers with his deep melodious voice, “Were you happy during those times?”

“Yes.” you confess.

“Me too.” he admits too, “Do you envision yourself pursuing this relationship seriously?”

“I… Is this what you want? We talked about keeping seeing each other and all that, but… Does being a couple make any sense here? Does going official have any weight in our situation?”

“To me it does.” He tilted his head, “I want to be with you. Live with you, build a family with you.”

“And when we get rescued?” You ask, “You didn’t renounce that possibility. What then? We go our merry way, tearing the family apart?”

“I am afraid we will be blocked here for some time.” He responded, “If we ever get rescued.”

You frowned.

“You think there is a risk we stay stranded here?”

“This is a possibility to keep in mind.” He ominously said

You sighed, suddenly exhausted. You closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind.

“Do not take the medicine, please.” You suddenly heard him murmuring so low you almost doubted you heard him.

You reopen your eyes to look at him interrogatively.

“I want this baby. I want to be a father. I want to live with you and see our children grow. Leave me a chance to prove to you I am worth it.” He said, looking into your gaze with sparkly eyes.

His tone was assured and affirmative but you saw so much hope in those red eyes, all the dreams he had to leave behind when he became a Grand Admiral, he could live them here. He could restart anew, fresh,  become the man he dreamed to be deep inside himself.

You raised in a seating position with a grumble.

“I do not doubt your worth, nor your capacities to be a father, but… There is so much uncertainty, so much fog… I cannot take that decision carelessly.”

“I understand your doubts and difficult position. And whatever you do, I will respect your choice. But, if I may tell you my opinion, again, please do not take the medicine. I will be here for you and the child, I want us to live all together. As a family”

“I will think about it…” You clench your fist around the envelope.

“Of course, Cha’cah.” He leaned forward to capture your lips in an infinitely soft kiss that you would have never believed him capable of, “The final choice is yours only.”

He caressed your cheek, kissed your forehead and left you alone to nap and gather energy.

You didn’t sleep, a headache threatened you all day long. And as usual, when night came you felt his arms wrapping around your form, tighter this night. You were pressed against his broad chest, his warm body, shielding you from the rest of the world.

You never took the medicine.

You pondered it during long weeks before one day standing still in front of Thrawn and handing him the envelope.

“Get rid of it.” you simply said.

He looked at the envelope, squinting, before grasping your arm and pulling you in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” He murmured, nose buried in your hair.

And that is how you ended up giving birth to your daughter. A healthy little girl in a rush to come into the world.

You woke up in the middle of the night like someone stabbed your womb before realizing your waters broke. Thrawn, awakened in a flash, helped you to the healer and she woke up all the women of the village, all came in the middle of the night to help. A birth is a matter of the entire community here.

They helped you to get rid of your tight clothes and enter a bath, trying to help you relax and relieve any tension. Thrawn was pushed outside the hut unceremoniously at first, “it is a women’s affair only.” They said to him, you don’t know what he responded but he was finally authorized to stay after a back and forth. He came to your side and took your hand, circling your shaking shoulders with his long arm.

“You got this, Cha’cah. I know you can do it.” He praised and supported you.

He talked to you during the whole process, taking your mind off the pain, kissing your temple, squeezing your hand.

Until finally, you heard her first scream.

She was as blue as him, with the same red eyes, but she inherited your hair. You immediately took her in your arms, still shaking and full of sweat but so relieved and happy.

Your little baby.

Your daughter.

Thrawn cut the umbilical cord with the fang dagger he gave you and came to your side to admire his daughter, delicately caressing her head still full of blood.

“She looks like you.” You say out of breath and the heart spilling love.

“Indeed. But she has your features. She will be as beautiful as you.”

He hugged you both like you could vanish at any second.

“Welcome to the world, little one. I love you so much.” He murmured, taking her in his large hands.

“What should we call her?” You ask. “We should pick a Chiss name.”

He looked at you with a hint of surprise and gratitude.

“What do you think of… Thaishi?” He proposed with a thin smile, eyes fixated on the baby.

“Taishi… Little Thaishi.” You make the name roll on your tongue, “I like it a lot.”

“Welcome Thaishi. My daughter.” He let out still incredulous, but the love and warmth was unmistakable in his voice. He immediately initiated skin-to-skin contact, trying to appease your daughter’s cries before the healer took her to examine her.

It was four years ago.

Thaishi speaks and sprints everywhere now, she is unstoppable, making you run after her all day long under Thrawn’s amused loving gaze. 

She is already at the buffet this morning when you arrive at the center of the village. The frog people cook for the community and not for individuals, hunt together, fish together, gather together and they eat all together. But today is not your day to cook so you slept late.

You caress Thaishi’s head who doesn’t even take the time to sit with others to eat, she just picks what she wants and eats it immediately. She looks up to you with her mouth full, making her look like a hamster.

“Go sit with the kids, little terror.” You kiss her forehead.

She picks up three other fruits and runs to the kiddos and sits with them.

“(Y/n), we could have brought the food to your hut!” The lady in charge of the cooks today chastises you.

“No, it’s better if I come to eat with everyone.” You respond with an appeasing smile, “Did you see Thrawn this morning?”

“He was out hunting with the youngs early, they should… Ah! Talk about the wolf!”

You spin on yourself, your plate in hand, to see the hunters entering the village with their games. Thrawn stands out with his deep blue skin against their green ones, you notice him immediately. Everyone comes to them to inspect the meat and congratulate the hunters.

“How is my wife this morning?” Thrawn asks, pulling you in his arms immediately.

You giggle as he presses you against his large body, your pregnant belly in the way. He leans forward to kiss you tenderly and then kneels to caresses your belly with enamored red eyes.

You feel your baby giving a kick against his palm.

“They are full of energy.” He notes satisfied.

“Thaishi is too! I have trouble containing her sometimes.”

“Thaishi, listen to your mother.” Thrawn takes his daughter's shoulder in his hand, “It is important to obey adults, young one. We do it for your protection.”

“But I can’t help it, I want to run and jump everywhere!” She responds with her mouth full.

“Young lady, your table manners are lacking. We need to correct them.” He boops her nose.

She gulps her bite down and smiles at him with all her teeth.

“Go play, we will study Cheuhn later.” He smoothes her hair and pushes her gently towards the kids.

You both look at her running again to her comrades, the only blue skin and red eyes in the green and globulous eyes. 

You sigh, the heart so full of love it could explode any minute now, when you feel Thrawn arms circling your shoulders.

“She’s four already.” You let out.

“Yes. She is growing quickly.”

“I feel like I gave birth to her yesterday and now look at her… Running all over without losing her balance. Maker… Tomorrow she will be a fully grown adult.”

“She will not, do not worry. She will remain our little lady whatever happens.”

You glance at him with a little grin.

“Are you becoming sentimental, Thrawn? What’s happening to my tough warrior?”

He chuckles lowly in response, amused.

“I have always been sentimental since she was a baby. Do not tell me you never noticed?”

“Oh I did notice! It was quite endearing to see you melt before her by the way! Seeing your facade cracking before your own baby…” You lay your head on his shoulder, caressing his cheek. “You have a good heart, Thrawn.”

“When it comes to you three, I always do.” He puts a hand on your tummy “What did the healer say yesterday?”

“They are growing quickly and well. I gained plenty of weight, my hormones are balanced and she didn’t notice anything wrong.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t have the correct equipment, so much could escape her.” He argues, suddenly frowning.

“Thrawn… Women have been giving birth here in those conditions for a millenia! So much they spread all over the continents, their death rate is really low. She knows her stuff.” You comfort him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

He slowly nod.

“You are right, as always.”

“I already gave birth, I can do it. I know I can.” You insist.

He kisses your palms delicately.

“I trust you, Cha’cah.”

“Good.” You raise on tiptoes to brush your nose with his. “Did you eat this morning?”

“I did, right before the hunt.” He squeezes your hand, “I will be on the ship if you need me.” 

He kisses your forehead and grabs and carries Thaishi on his shoulders making her scream laughing among the children. 

You go back with the others, sitting on your ankles, observing your husband and daughter as you eat your fruits. Your minds start wandering back to the night you wed Thrawn, you remember being in his arms, heavily pregnant with Thaishi, laying on your mattress. He was caressing your hair as your cheek was pressed against his chest, listening to his beating heart.

“We should get married.” He suddenly said in the dark of the night.

“Why?” you asked, yawning.

“We have a baby on the way. We should do it for them.”

“For them? Not because you’re so in love with me you could feel your heart explode?” You tease him with a light laugh.

“Do you doubt my love?”

“No Thrawn, I was simply joking. I do not doubt you.” You brush your cheek on the skin of his pec to reassure him.

Something you picked up on is Thrawn's low self esteem, or rather poor view of his own person. You realized it listening to him talk about his time in the Ascendancy, he measures his self worth though his capacity to serve and obey his people, completely ignoring his innate value as an individual being. He thinks of himself as a tool, a cog, in the great scheme of things. Just a usable asset to throw away once he has served his purpose. And maybe the most terrifying thing in this situation is that he was contented by this. To him he isn’t deserving of respect and love if he fails his duties. It is a completely normal situation to him, something he has internalized and never questioned.

So he didn’t understood you throwing yourself at him to hug him tight and reassuring him that you loved him. He stayed still, like frozen, listening to you declaring your love to him so suddenly he had nothing to say, maybe a bit shocked.

From this day on you took care to tell him everyday that you loved him, hugging and kissing him, showering him with your love, proving to him that whatever flaws he had or whatever failures he may have committed, he was worthy of unconditional love.

“I love you, (y/n). It is a fact that I cannot deny. When I realize you are in my presence, my heart tightens. When you speak, my heart seems to jump. When you are in my arms, it races. I daresay those symptoms point to love.”

“I know, my love.” You grazed your finger on his chest, “I love you all the same. I am truly at ease and relieved when you are at my side. I worry when I do not feel your presence.”

He took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I will not leave you. I am whole and appeased only with you.” 

You raised your head to kiss his jaw tenderly.

“I want to tie my legacy to yours, be a family.” He continues. 

You looked intently at his laying form silently.

“Because you miss yours?”

He remained silent and his gaze fixed on the ceiling seemed to harden.

“There is no need to hide it, love. It is natural to long for the presence of your family, whoever you are. It means you have a heart and a home to go back to.”

“I have a duty towards them. I will not go back to them until it is done.” He finally said with a hard tone.

It wasn’t directed against you, you knew it, it was simply a testimony of his resolution.

“So you truly want it?” You questioned gently.

“It would fill my heart with bliss if you bestowed yourself to me.” He confessed with a tone of  confidence, caressing your cheek.

“If you promise to love me for all eternity, I accept to be yours.” You said.

He kissed your knuckles again before putting your hand on his beating heart.

“For all eternity, Cha’cah. You have my word.”

You lowered yourself and kissed his lips gently, he responded lasciviously, deepening the kiss.

He stood up, helped you rise on your feet and you sneaked away in the night to the Chiefs hut like children who would have stolen a cookie jar. The chiefs performed the ceremony according to their traditions and you were married to Thrawn.

To your Grand Admiral.

And him to his Rebel.

You shared the decisive kiss with the chiefs benedictions and felt your heart tightening with love. He kissed your forehead tenderly while caressing your cheek and you hugged him tight.

Now, with you pregnant, your destinies were intertwined forever.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You never told the rest of the community, they didn’t need to know. You were together and that is all that mattered.

But there was one dark stain on the canvas.

You made peace with the fact that you wouldn’t get rescued by now. That is also why you carried the pregnancy to term and accepted his hand in marriage. Because deep down you felt you would never get out of this isolated planet.

But Thrawn didn’t.

Thrawn keeps fighting everyday to go home. 

And you’re not sure how to feel about that.

Was it his loyalty to the Empire or his relentless devotion to the Ascendancy that pushed him so much? He refused to answer.

But coming back signifies saying goodbye. And that’s tearing your heart apart. When you realized he was tempering with the ship communication device to send messages to the Empire you badly reacted, you had your first real fight. He refused to stay arms dangling when his duties called for him and you refused to help go back to his murderous Empire.

In the end you remained a rebel and a Grand Admiral.

And it created the first cracks in your marriage.

A chance Thaishi was still a baby and couldn’t understand why her parents were arguing, but she did pick up on the bad vibes and your cracked voice and started crying. Before Thrawn could pick her up to console her, you took her, shouting he better get used to not seeing his family if he wanted to go back to the Empire so badly and ran off to the hut of friends and remained here for a full week.

You regretted those words. So badly. He never once raised his voice against you, remaining calm, but also so cold, so calculating, his determined gaze terrified you so you preferred to flee with your daughter.

He came to your friends’ hut everyday to see his child and everyday you refused, hugging her against your heart. You were so mad, so terrified, so… So betrayed! How could he dare do that to your family?

When you accepted to receive him, he sat down in front of you in silence, just observing his baby in your arms with a loving gaze.

But he was actively trying to tear his family apart and you couldn’t forgive him just yet.

“How is she?” he asked

“Good.”

“Can I hold her?”

“No.” you placidly answered

He simply took a deep breath in response before opening his mouth again.

“We should talk.”

“Indeed we should. You have a lot of explaining to do.” You frowned.

“I had good reasons to try to go back to the Empire.”

“Yes, evidently you are still very much attached to this tyranny.”

“You do not understand. I didn’t tell you everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, what could he say to save his image now?

“If I am so attached to this tyranny, as you call it, it is to save my worlds.”

And he explained everything to you, all the secrets he kept hidden all this time, secrets nobody’s outside of him and a certain Ba’kif knew about. The true reasons of his mission and allegiance to the Empire, anything he didn’t tell you before.

You just listen silently, eyes round and mouth agape.

“... You may hate me now, but I will demand to keep seeing my daughter. This is all I ask for.”

“I…” You just manage to say, lost “I am sorry, Thrawn.”

He remained silent, sounding you with his inquisitive red gaze, awaiting your reaction once you gathered your thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” You concede, “But I couldn’t turn a blind eye either…” You try to show him where you come from.

But he is determined.

“I know. But my success depends on the success of the Empire.”

“The success of the Empire implies the subjugation of all races and slavery.”

“Not when I will have taken control of it. This is a necessary evil for now.”

“This is horrible… How can you say that?” You said, pained.

“This is war, casualties are inevitable. ” He insisted, “But when I will lead it, everything will end. You need to trust me.”

You lower your gaze to observe your daughter’s face. She is peacefully sleeping in your arms, soothed by both of your voices. She is as blue as him, with the same red eyes…

You already tied yourself to him, for better and for worse…

You sigh, closing your eyes. You hear him getting closer and circling your shoulders with his arm.

“I need you to trust me, cheo Cha’cah. I do it for the greater good.” He murmurs soothingly.

You purse your lips.

“I will not hinder you, but do not expect me to help you in any way!” You annonce with tenacity.

“Alright.” He gently kisses your shoulder, “Are you still mad?”

“Yes! A lot! But… I understand better now.” You say giving him a side glance.

He looks deep into your eyes, squeezing your shoulders against his body.

“I love you…” He confesses like a secret.

“Me too…” You reassure him. “But I will need time.”

“Will you let me hold our daughter?”

You gently give him your baby and she opens her eyes to meet his. He presses her delicately against his chest, a skin-to-skin hug so important for babies. She grabs one of his fingers in her little fist and starts babbling, smiling at her father.

“Hello you.” He gently says, “I missed you.”

You purse your lips, feeling like a heartless monster for depriving him of his child, and her, her father.

He slept with Thaishi in his arms that night and you pressed yourself against him, looking at your baby, cheek pressed on the chest of her father, sleeping soundly, at peace.

And you cried, knowing that this could come to an end one day.

You’re being brutally called back to reality when Thaishi sprinted into your laps to smash into you.

“Leys proposed to me to spend the day with her!” She exclaims joyfully as you try to catch your breath after that hit.

You turn towards Ley’s mother, slowly nodding.

“You need some peace and quiet at that point in your pregnancy, (Y/n). Relax for the day, we will take care of the kids.”

You turn back to Thaishi, eyes full of hope.

“Alright, but you must promise to behave well when you are with them! And don’t forget your Cheuhn lesson with your father.”

“Yes, mom!” She already sprints back to her friends group, barely listening to you.

She only listens to her father. You sigh, shaking your head.

Kids…

You yawn and decide to use this newfound liberty to take a nap, even if you just woken up. You were soundly sleeping for some hours now, back at your hut, when you felt a warm body pressing itself against your back and strong, large hands caressing your pregnant belly.

“Welcome back, sir…” You yawn.

Thrawn kisses your shoulders, pressing you tighter against his large body.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Heavy!” You burst out laughing “And fat! This belly gets in the way of everything, it’s impressive.”

“You are beautiful like that.” He insists, “I found you more and more hypnotizing as your pregnancy advances” He keeps caressing your tummy tenderly.

“Are you sure you are the most objective person in this situation?” You argue back with a side grin.

“I need not to be objective, I only need my eyes to witness your bewitching beauty. And I can confidently say you are the most beautiful of all.”

“Even when my body is limp and bloated like that?”

“Especially like that. You being pregnant is a real… Temptation.” He breathes lowly in your ear, “I have all the pain in the world to maintain my control.”

“You? Struggling to keep your control in check? I do not believe you sir.” You laugh.

“And yet, such is the effect you have on me.” He starts kissing your neck, slowly going up. “You mesmerize me in every possible way.” He licks your ear with the tip of his tongue.

“You are really touchy today.” You squirm in his embrace, brushing your soft body against his muscles.

“I have been struck by a real vision.” 

“Well thank you sir, I take care of myself!” You joke. “You are quite handsome yourself!”

Your hair has grown too by the time and he buries his nose in it to inhale your scent.

“I want to eat you up.” He says with a growl.

“Aren’t I delectable?” You keep joking.

“You are. Exactly to my taste, but you misunderstood me.” He leans again, blowing on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “I want to eat you out until you are a shaking mess in my hands, until you can not remember your own name.” He gives another quick lick to your ear.

His deep voice has such an effect on you, you can’t help but shudder in response, much to his satisfaction. Thrawn proved himself physically affectionate, not shy to express his love physically in public or in private… Especially in private! And even though Thaishi’s birth didn’t stop your sex life, it is true it slowed it down a bit. Your last sexual relationship was some months ago and the new pregnancy didn’t help, even though… Thrawn looks at you differently when you’re pregnant.

You're convinced it teases something deeply buried in his psyche and entrails, it excites him, always looking at you wherever you are, always holding you in his arms in some ways, keeping you to himself…

You remember your first pregnancy, he had his hands all over you all day long, drinking between your legs for long hours, getting more and more unhinged as your tummy started to get bigger and bigger. 

Maybe it is one of his kinks… You have the occasion to verify it today…

You turn to face him with a cheeky grin.

“So you like me pregnant.” You state. 

“It is a wonder of nature.”

“Is that it?” You innocently pull on your shirt to reveal your belly to his eyes.

The light growl emanating from him was unmistakable. His gleaming eyes seem to shine brighter and you think you see him gulp.

“Just a wonder of nature?” You insist, blinking your eyes naively.

“I wonder what kind of reaction you expect of me, flashing your pregnant belly to me.”

“I don’t know… Maybe I am simply curious?”

He raises an eyebrow in response, not buying your innocent act.

“Curious?” He repeats cautiously.

“Curious about the fantasy of my man… What titillates him, what excites him, what drives him absolutely…” You keep your act, drawing sweet circles with your nail on your heavy tummy. “... Crazy.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes locked on your round belly, clearly interested in what you have to offer. His growl takes a dive in the deeper tone, squinting his eyes, trying to maintain his cool in front of your insolent temptation allurement.

He remains very set back in his fantasies, never truly revealing his true taste, preferring to oblige yours instead so you have only an unfinished portrait of his kinks.

But this…

This caught his attention well and you intend to play a bit with it.

“I feel like I have your full attention.” you smile cheekily.

“You do.” he says, cautious of your little game, but so tempted.

“My belly is so soft and warm, if only you could feel it like I do.” You tease mercilessly. “Do you like me pregnant with your child?”

“Yes. A lot.” His voice is no more than a growl now.

He extends his hand to caress your tummy and you slap it immediately. He groans, displeases, and frowns in response.

“No touch. You can only admire.”

“You have no mercy.” He mediates, “Will you really deny me?”

“Maybe. After all, physical exhaustion is really bad for me, I don’t know if letting you do what you want is good for the baby.” You clap back without pity for him.

“I do believe what I have in mind is really good for both of you.” He insinuates lowly.

“You have no proof of what you say.”

“Really? We can go ask the healer right now and we will know where we stand.” He responds without missing a bit, absolutely serious.

You observe him haughtily, like you’re not believing him and don’t intend to give up. He presses himself tighter to you. You wonder how it would get if you pushed him to his limits… 

He has always been soft and tender to you, but you’re curious. How is he when he is mad? When you push his dominant tendencies? 

You refrain from smiling like a deviant.

“Let me show you what I mean, and you will judge for yourself.” He proposes.

“I do not know if I will let you, mister. I am not convinced.” You put your hand on his mouth to push him back with a grin.

He licks your palm to get rid of your hand with a dark gaze.

“Do not play with me.” He warns.

“Or what? What will you do to your heavily pregnant wife?” You tease.

He flinches imperceptibly at the mention of your pregnancy, growling deeply like an annoyed animal.

“You couldn’t hurt a fly. I am not afraid in the slightest, mister.”

He looks at you intently and suddenly his Intense gaze melts into sparkling eyes and he lets out a sneer.

“You will not gain what you want by playing with my ego, Cha’cah.”

Oh Makers damn it!

“Come on!” You insist, pressing yourself more against him, “Humor me!”

“No.” He chuckles, amused like he would with a child, “You will not win that fight.”

“Pffffff… You’re no fun.” You purse your lips, sulking.

“On the contrary, I can be a lot of fun.” He embraces you tightly, “You just need to find the right levers.”

“I had one! You clearly were hanging onto every word when I showed you my belly!” You contest.

“Indeed. And you would have won if you kept playing with this strategy, but you made the tactical error of changing the point of pressure.”

You grumble, frustrated. You were really curious, how is sex with him when he’s mean and overly dominant?

“Do not frown, cheo cha’cah. You need not to play the temptress to seduce me, your innate charms work wonders.” He tries to soothe you.

“I wanted to see how it would go if you were mean and harsh.” You pout.

“Being mean and harsh to you is not appealing to me. I would rather honor you than demeaning you in any way.” He kisses your forehead.

You’re still deadly curious.

“I will find a way, one day.” You promise, seething.

“Do not sulk, my love.” He smiles, entertained, “Let me take care of you, it will ease the tension between your eyebrows, my darling.” He continues, lowering himself to kiss your clavicle and going more south.

He kisses your tummy reverently, leaving sweet kisses all over it while caressing it. You feel the baby giving him a kick and he responds with a final, loving peck.

“They too are quite energetic.” He notes, satisfied, “You keep giving me healthy and strong children. Thank you.”

He then reports his attention to your skirt that he slides down your hips and legs with ease. Still pouting, you close your legs shut to deny him, he chuckles again, sliding his hands between the flesh of your thighs and successfully opening them for him.

“Come on now, there is no need to be difficult, sweet thing. I know you love it when I go down on you.” 

It’s true.

With him being so good at it, you can only love it in return. But he doesn’t want to entertain your fancy so you won’t entertain his. You cross your arms over your chest with a grumble.

“You are unbelievable, cheo Cha’cah. You act like a spoiled child.” You hear his smug smile in his voice, hidden behind your stomach. “But I know how to make you react, I know everything about you.”

You feel the cold air on your pussy as he slides your panties on the side, he blows on your clit playfully, sending a shiver down your spine again but you refrain from the whine that threatens to pass your lips.

“I will have you sing soon enough, my love.” He says with his usual confidence.

He takes a sloppy lick at your pussy and you greet your teeth together. 

Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound!

Unimpressed by your headstrong attitude, he keeps licking your pussy lips lazily, like a tired, lascivious king, moaning his own pleasure for you.

He also knows that you absolutely love hearing him moan and groan, vocalizing his pleasure out loud, it goes straight to your empty pussy that starts to signify to you that it is scandalously empty.

He laps at your cunny slowly with the flat of his tongue, trailing your slit with his tip and sucking your nervous clit. You bite your lips and dig your nails into the flesh of your arms to maintain control over yourself.

“Your pussy is more honest than you are.” He notes, “It gets wetter to my touch while you childishly refuse to indulge.”

Oh, he’s one to talk about indulgence, mister frugal lifestyle!

“You do not! I am a dry ice cube! In fact I’m starting to get bored!” You manage to let out in a hurry before any tremors come to shake your voice.

Again he simply chuckles at you.

“You will break, my love.” He simply announces, kissing your sweet pussy between each word. “That is an absolute certainty.”

You’ll show him you can maintain control over your own person. You will not break!

But he is right on one point, your pussy does get wetter by the seconds, at you great damn.

You keep your jaws closed shut, froward. He resumes laving at your soft pussy that gets softer and softer as your blood travels south. You feel him spread your pussylips with his fingers to lick your hidden, tender flesh.

You feel your abdominals contracting at his sweet touch, and it didn’t escape him.

“Oh? Are those the first shivers of your undeniable pleasure?” He teases.

“I’m just cold.” You bite back

“Not for long, sweet thing. I will make sure of it.”

As he keeps licking your now dripping pussy you start hearing his purr resonating in the hut. He enjoys himself very much. He loves eating you out as much as you do, if not more. You suddenly feel his tongue entering your wet cavern and start tonguefucking you.

A single moan escapes you before you press your hand on your mouth. His purr drops down to deeper tones, sending shivers through your puffy, wet, walls, raising your hardly refutable pleasure…

“My little bird does not wish to sing for me? It is alright, I will have you crying, Cha’cah.”

And he starts fucking you harshly in retaliation, his tongue waving and grazing your G spot with such ease it is almost comical. His hand comes to flicker and press your clit, puffy with blood. He makes it roll between his fingers, titillates it consciously as he drinks your slick as he would drink water.

Maker those debauched sounds…

How the wet sounds of your little pussy and his grunts sound to your ears… This is highly depraved and debaucherous.

So exciting… Argh! Get a grip of yourself! Do not let him win!

He is… motivated, to say the least. He must have taken your vow of silence as a personnel challenge because he seems determined to have you cum hard and rapidly. He is eating you out with energy and a will you only encountered when you fought him in battle.

Despite your closed mouth, your uncontrollable whimpers can be heard well in this little room and it is the sweetest melody to his ears, only encouraging him to double his efforts. He eats you out enthusiastically, nastily, roughly, abusing your tender flesh with his swollen lips. He continues moaning without any shame, letting you know that he has no qualms enjoying himself to the fullest while you hold on to a childish pride.

Your dripping pussy convulses around his wet, flexible limb as he brushes your gummy spot with his tip expertly, making your pleasure rise more and more until it comes crashing down upon you. Your little cunny clenches painfully around his tongue and you come against his mouth and against your will.

“What a remarkably honest body you have, cheo Cha’cah. Letting me know everything I need to know without a fuss. Guiding me through your true desires so eagerly.”

“You’re full of yourself!” you spit out.

He gently kisses your thighs, licking you soft, plump flesh with a deep moan.

 “Abandon your immature act and just enjoy yourself. Why deny yourself like that, little rebel?” He asks curiously

You do not respond like a mutineer.

“Sometimes I do not understand you.” He sighs.

He kisses your pussy reverently, like he gallantly kisses your hand before rising up to free his erection of his constrictive pants. You look away, stubborn, refusing to look at the member that used to give you so many orgasms before.

“You looking away will not impede the inevitable.”

You feel him coat his shaft with your essence, brushing his cock between your slit back and forth, soaking it with your slick. It brushes against your erected, nervous clit and you have to fight another mewl rising in your throat.

“Your body gives me so much pleasure, I am thankful to you, my love.” He lets you know with a tone of secrets, “We should indulge more, sharing such intimate moments is so important to build a healthy relationship. I know our sex life slowed down since we became parents, but I still look at you as a woman first, not only a mother, with all the desires and craving it implies.” He continues.

He’s trying to win you over! To make you lower your defenses! You’ll not surrender for some sugary words, you have more will than that! He sighs lasciviously and unfastens his long hair, letting them frame his handsome face and draping his large shoulders. You gasp at this gorgeous sight.

“I know you think I am trying to sweeten you. I am simply telling my truth.” He brushes his noses in the crook of your neck, caressing your full tummy so tenderly. “Even if you obstinate yourself to deny yourself pleasure for an infantile vagaries, it will not prevent me from doing my best to satisfy you as it is my duty, cheo Cha’cah.” He informs you as a sentence.

You close your eyes shut as he pushes himself inside you, his size making it difficult for your little pussy. You press your lips in a thin line as he splits you in two with his massive member.

“I missed how your little pussy strangles me.” He gasps, deeply satisfied.

He keeps pushing further, pushing your inner flesh apart until you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep, deep inside your most secret place. 

You gulp, bracing yourself for what is to come.

“You are so tense, my love. You should relax.” He says tenderly, “There is no need to make the experience uncomfortable for you.”

“I am 8 months pregnant, I do not simply "relax "." You mock.

“A deep and warm orgasm should help you get more comfortable, my sweet. You can count on me.” He keeps offering you sweet words.

He starts moving, with shallow thrusts, taking it easy on your sore body. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying not to focus on the delicious sensations his ridges give you, how wonderfully full you feel with him inside, how right it feels to have your husband like that. A strangled yelp escapes you as he resumes teasing your clit with his hand as he thrusts into you.

“Give me your hand.” He orders softly.

You feel him trail your arm until he reaches your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

He deepens his thrusts, going deeper, slipping out almost entirely leaving just the tip inside and pushes it back in languorously, undulating his hips against yours.

You try so hard to fight back the waves of pleasure, tensing up your muscles under his inquisitive gaze, but he gives you so much, it is so hard to shield yourself completely when he puts so much energy and love in each of his thrusts, forcing you to endure the delight he offers. You feel tears building up behind your eyes.

You hiss as he rocks his hips with a quicker pace, sliding in and out easily thanks to your first orgasm, the waves of pleasure poisoning your veins and nerves ending.

“You are so reactive for someone who refuses pleasure.” He placidly notes, “You can try and hide as much as you want, you cannot lie to me, my love. I know you too well. Your body is an open book to me. Denying it is… useless.” He says, modulating his deep, melodious voice as he knows you prefer.

You shake your head vehemently.

“I experienced your body for years, sweet thing. I know it as well as mine. I studied it carefully, each and every single one of your reactions. I know how to please it, I know how to bring it to the verge of an earth shattering orgasm.”

He is so confident in his capacities to please you, you’ll give him that. He keeps rubbing your clit and you try to escape his sweet touch but he grasps your hips and impales you back on his cock, burying it to the hilt. You whine.

“You will not escape it.” It is as much a promise as it is a threat.

He accelerates his pace again, bullying himself into you without any mercy. Your cunny desperately tries to accommodate his size, clenching pathetically around his girthy shaft.

“Those are the reactions I like.” He says smugly. “Kiss me, cheo Cha’cah.”

He lowers himself to reach your lips but you turn your head away.

“Are you so cold hearted to deny me your lips?”

You grumble and swiftly kiss his cheek.

“Satisfied?” you bare your teeth.

“Thank you. But I hoped for more.”

You purse your lips but let him kiss you, you feel him purring against your mouth. You open your mouth and he enters it with his tongue to dance with yours. He squeezes your hand with his as he deepens the kiss, looming over your body. You growl in the kiss but feel his lips draw in a smile.

So you bite his lips in retaliation.

He licks the little bead of blood away, looking at you with a pleased expression.

“I love when you defy me.” He says lowly, keeping his hard pace, “I love it even more when it is clear you will lose.”

“I am losing nothing!”

“I have the clear memory of making you cum two minutes ago. And you will suffer another defeat in less than three. How does it feel, little rebel? Knowing your greatest efforts go to waste against a superior will.”

“Imperial dog!” You spit.

“Keep that energy up, my love.” He kisses your cheek.

He accentuates his hips action, making you squeal uncontrollably.

“Ca-Careful the baby!” You warn indignant.

“The baby is fine.” He replies with a mocking tone, “In fact, they can sense how good their mother feels. I reckon they must enjoy themself thoroughly with you squirming so desperately under my touch.”

“I… Fuck you!”

He snickers and raises on his knees, forcing your hips up in the air. He digs his fingers in the flesh of your plump hips to keep you in place, doing so he removed all control you had over the action. Now you are truly a victim of his will.

“Such foul language. I better understand Thaishi’s manners.”

He slows down the pace to give a circling motion of his hips to vary the sensations, making sure his girth rubs every sensitive spot in your vagina. You tremble terribly in his hands, like struck by lightning. You bite down your lips terribly to not moan.

To no avail…

“Ah yes, the sweet moans of my muse. It only motivates me to work harder for you.”

He plundges his cock deep, scratching every itch, making you sing against your will. You feel tears rolling on your flushed lips as you try to catch up your breath under such physical exercises.

He leans forward to lick your tears away, the salt tingling on his darted tongue deliciously.

“You are beautiful, my sweet. Crying your pleasure out loud like that.”

Embarrassed, you hide your eyes with one arm, only for him to grip it immediately to take it off.

“No, Cha’cah. You do not get to hide from me.”

“Pl-please finish soon…” You beg.

You have enough of this trial and humiliation, you’re too tired to get this beating. Something snapped in your stomach, begging for him to reach his climax and yours with it.

“Finishing this early? But I feel plenty full of ardor today, I had in mind to keep going for one or two hours more. Just to be sure you orgasmed correctly, I would hate to have you unsatisfied, my love, your enjoyment is my priority.”

You tremble, shaken by spasms, convulsing in pleasure, stiffness reaching all of your limbs as the waves of pleasure incapacitate you as they spread in your veins. You feel your little pussy gaping around his shaft desperately trying to keep him in.

“Okay… You won, I surrender. Please, finish soon..” You say panting, gasping for air at each of his powerful thrust.

“My, my, you are giving up so easily, my dear. But your wish is my command.”

He adjusts his position, and installs a break-necking pace. You’re being pushed against the mattress without mercy and you bite your tongue in the confusion. You cannot help the squeals escaping your pretty mouth while he moans in tandem with your plaints.

Your pussy clenches hard as you come, trying to retain him inside, strangling him just like he loves sending him over the edge. He slows down his pace and comes undone inside.

You’re shaking, crying, getting back from your high as he puts his forehead against yours, caressing your cheek.

“Cha’cah?” He calls in a whisper, “Are you alright?”

You nod, your visage hidden in your hands, catching your breath. He kisses your hands before taking them off your face and pecks your cheek and nose.

“Breath deep, cheo Cha’cah. Easy.”

He holds you tight, cradling your body tenderly.

“There… Breath. Everything is alright.”

You gasp, wiping your tears away.

“Oh Maker…” You whimper.

He brushes his nose with yours, his long hair framing his gorgeous face. 

“Everything is fine, you are with me, my love.” He keeps soothing you. 

A sigh mixed with a gasp escapes you as you feel your heart calming down in your chest. Thrawn keeps kissing your face tenderly, holding your cheek in his warm palm. He slips out of you, leaving you intolerably empty and slides to the side where he takes you in his arms to hold you close. You bury your face in his neck and breathe in his musk to calm down, his hand comes caressing your hair gently, appeasingly. 

“I love you.” He murmurs. 

“I love you too… “ You respond, exhausted. 

“We should bathe.”

“I'm too tired… “ You complain, nudging against him 

“Come on, ch'eo vir. Let me help.”

He rises with 8 months pregnant you in his arms and heads towards the river where he bathes you both conscientiously, laying you against his naked chest, surrounded by fresh water. You doze off, too relaxed to keep your eyes open. 

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

You were playing with Thaishi when you heard a familiar sound resonate through the air like a loud bang. Immediately, the sky darkens, the sun disappears and a weird silence takes place in the village, everyone looking up.

You raise your head, gulping, and Thaishi points to the large object in the sky. 

“Mum, what's that?” she asks, as fascinated as she appears terrified.

Massive and large,  the ISD floats over the village like a dark presage, brining death and fire with it.

“This is…” You start, feeling panic rising, “This is…”

The two headed serpent leave no doubt who’s ISD it is.

They’re here for Thrawn!

You pick up Thaishi in your arms precipitaly, making her yelp in surprise and run to your hut, hugging her tight. When you arrive you see Thrawn passing the doorframe in his white uniform, hair cut and black boot unsoiled. 

You almost hit him with your speed, but you stop just in time.

“Thrawn!”

“I know, Cha’cah. Do not worry.”

“But… Where does this uniform come from? Why are they here? Why-”

“I managed to contact them.” He drops the bomb.

You look at him completely dumbfounded, at loss for words.

“What? But… How could you…”

He put his hands on your shoulders to ground you.

“Cha’cah, we are going home.”

You feel like the ground just opened under your feet and would swallow you whole. Your legs give up under you, in shock, but Thrawn catches you and Thaishi expertly.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?”

“Mom?” Your daughter calls for you in the hands of her father, afraid.

You close your eyes.

You cannot believe it.

The day you feared the most came. You will be separated, torn apart, never to see each other again.

Some villagers came to you when you fell, Thrawn let you in their care, kissing your forehead and heading towards the Chief huts.

When you reopen your eyes, you are in the healer’s hut. You discard the wet fabric she placed on your forehead and go outside.

The ISD is here.

Ominous and threatening.

You reel for some steps before straightening yourself. Here you find Thrawn holding Thaishi, the Chiefs and a woman in an imperial uniform.

Where did he hide this perfectly neat uniform? During all those years he hid it from you, well tidied in a box, awaiting its hour. You suddenly feel a spick of ire in your vein at the sight of that clean white.

Thrawn turns towards you, and a light smile comes lightening his face.

“There she is. Commodore Faro I want you to meet Lady (F/n). My wife.”

Faro slowly bows to you, but something in her eyes displeases you.

She knows who you are.

She doesn’t recognize you as a crew member of Thrawn ships and the only other people present that day were Rebels.

She knows.

She gives a side glance at her Grand Admiral but abstains from any comments.

“Lady (F/n).” She politely but coldly greets.

“Everything is taking care of, Cha’cah.” Thrawn continues, “We will embark everyone on board and exit that planet.”

You turn your head to the chiefs, interrogating them with your eyes.

“We agreed to let your husband temper with the ship if he promised us to take us with you.”

“But.. You’ve been here for a millennia… This is your home… Your planet.”

“We are wanderers at heart, our place is flying through space, not remaining on a single rock.”

You turn back to Thrawn, mouth agape and tears behind the eyes.

“Thrawn… You cannot be serious…”

“Cha’cah.” He cuts you softly, “Our place is not here, our home and duties are away from this planet. It is time for us to go.”

You want to slap him across the face, scream at him, telling him that he will never know the child you bare, that he is killing this family.

“Leave me here with Thaishi.” You just say weakly.

You cannot resume your combat, you cannot fight your husband even if you know you’re in the right, you cannot say goodbye to your children and leave them alone.

“I am not leaving you on this backwater planet, love.” He warns, “We discussed this subject matter and agreed. Thaishi and the baby will be sent to the Ascendancy and live a safe life while we will go back to our responsibilities.”

“How can you say that?” You feel ire rising in your veins.

“We are both warriors. We both know our duties would supplant everything in our life.”

“Thrawn…” You beg.

He caresses your cheek and his thumb swipe one silent tear that rolls on your skin, you sob.

“Those four years have been a blessing. The miracle I stopped hoping for.” He presses his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes with a sigh, “But the dream must end. It is time now to wake up and advance.”

“Thrawn…” Your voice is no more than a pathetic plea.

“I know, Cha’cah. I will never stop loving you and will cherish those memories I have with you both. But it is time…”

He extends his hand to you with a comforting smile while your image of him gets blurry with tears.

“Come home with me, my love?”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

☆Tag list

[witchofthesouls]

Batmobile ask:

So Megatron is de-aged and people on cybertron are concerned about what's happening on the Lost light because of the news of their shenanigans, so when the lostlight unexpectedly gets relatively close to a station where an officer is posted or to cybertron its self, someone takes the opportunity to do an inspection. (I'm thinking Prowl but it could be anyone).

They were not expecting Batmobile with her children cuddled up in her arms walking into the dispensary with a large but soft looking organic blanket draped over her frame...

(Hear me out, Cybertron is terrified about a rogue Decepticon Warlord and Optimus has no clue to feel about his old nemesis, a wayward Prime, and a feral racecar.)

Everyone was highly concerned with the lack of intergalactic accidents and the sudden silence of bad press spearheaded by the Lost Light.

By sheer chance, the dispatched party from Cybertron managed to reach the checkpoint of a planet from the buffering zone between Cybertron and her colonies' space and the Galactic Council's outermost edges, the wayward ship sent an incoming message to dock to a relatively neutral species.

Said species had sent an official warning to Cybertron and an unofficial non-hostilities agreement due to the Lost Light's recent actions on single-handedly dealing with the plague of space privacy in their region.

Optimus mobilized a heavy-hitter group with Starscream's begrudging blessing under the barest pretensions of an inspection.

Ultra Magnus is unflappable as always. Ratchet seems to be his usual gruff self. Quite a few familiar faces are still active among the crew -Perceptor, Brainstorm, Bluestreak, and Smokescreen, and a handful of new ones.

The most conspicuous new mecha has a white visor with a large frame swaddled in a larger blanket, and even in the distance, there are the unmistakable squeaks and chirps of sleep-addled sparklings.

The moment a very familiar face pops up, the comms lights up in a flurry of activity.

:: No fraggen way- ::

:: -not really surprised. But wouldn't Rodimus- ::

:: -had to be a really spot of trouble to keep the mech down- ::

Another helm pops out, frame so tiny and optics at half power, a yawn to show off an endearingly toothy mouth.

:: Oh, frag, even Drift- ::

:: -think those idiots had a bet? I wouldn't put it -::

:: -I knew racecars ran fast, but damn- ::

Of course, when a small grey face appears, everyone lost their fragging minds.

Meanwhile, Optimus' own glossa stills, turning into a weighted lump as he picks up the total familiarity of those flickering fields enmeshed in the strangers'. The Matrix has quite a few unique powers, including the ability to memorize and recall everyone's signature. There's no way that these three are merely sparklings of infamous mechs.

Megaton manages to lock optics with Optimus and immediately bursts into loud tears, which sets off Rodimus and drives Drift back underneath the blanket.

Whatever tension deflates in, by Jazz's words, this "powder keg of a Mexican standoff" trails into silent awkwardness as you attempt to wrangle the distressed, squirming sparklings onto separate shoulders.

Ratchet pinches his nose and Ultra Magnus drops another bomb, "Y/N, you're dismissed along with your charges."

"Roger that, acting captain." You nod in agreement and make your way back to the ship.

There's renewed screaming over the comms on this "newfound slag and fuckery," another of Jazz's phrases, and Optimus can't help but keep his optics on your back. Drift makes no reappearance, remaining a still lump attached along your seams. Meanwhile, Rodimus' face is wet as he peeks over a shoulder and Megatron refuses to lift his helm away from your neck.

[catsofcalifornia]

Boy-Boy and Sweetie from Happy Strays Rescue in La Canada, California

Click here for more information about adoption and other ways to help!

Click here for a link to Happy Strays Rescue's main website.

Boy-Boy will take time to warm up - but when he trusts you will ask for tummy rubs. Very bonded to his sister, Sweetie and they must be adopted together. These two need experienced cat-friendly home.

Sweetie is shy - was rescued from a feral colony. She is very bonded to her brother Boy-Boy and they must be adopted together. Best home would be a quiet home with possibly oder children.

[odditycircus-2002]

ANGST WITH BARAKA AND MEDUSA!READER

Blame this song from Adventure Time for the thoughts that came to my mind.😈😈😈

All of Outworld knows the cruel fate that awaits all those inflicted with Tarkat. While it's true that Tarkat will eventually claim the afflicted's life, its victims live the rest of their days in fear of themselves. It's distressing enough to be trapped in a body twisted and disfigured into a monstrous form that you hardly recognize. But then, to be fated to slowly lose your mind to a feral hunger that can only be satiated with the flesh of others, no matter if it once belonged to your family or neighbors, seems like a cruel punishment from the gods.

Y/N does her damnest to find a cure in hopes of sparing everyone of this fate, specifically before her Baraka can fully succumb to Tarkat and truly become a monster. However, that doesn't negate the real possibility the former tribune may be too far gone by the time you find a cure. You already notice how, with each passing day, Baraka becomes more irritable and eager for violence; with each passing day he survives, your heart fills with adoration.

'Oh dear Baraka, how you fight countless battles every day. It matters not if it's for the sick's livelihood or for your own mind; you face them with the same strength of will. The mere fact that you've resisted Tarkat's madness for years is a testament to this willpower. You who lifted my spirits during my darkest hour.'

You are forever thankful to have Baraka in your life and don't want to imagine him not in it.

Friendship is all that he or you will accept, as you, too, have lost much in little time. Yet that doesn't stop him from fiercely protecting you to the best of his abilities or seeking comfort in each other's touch. A blind man can see the yearning in your eyes when thinking the other isn't looking.

When the former tribune and merchant first heard the arrival of an Imperial Healer, he thought it too good to be true. Now, Baraka gives thanks to the gods every day for you. You had brought something almost, if not as effective as a possible cure. Hope. Your valiant research for a cure has become a beacon of hope to all Tarkatans and Baraka. As if that wasn't enough, you also gave your friendship to the former merchant.

Baraka will forever be grateful for all you have brought to his colony. He admires your determination even in the face of seemingly impossible odds and when your body becomes a stranger to you. Baraka appreciates your soft touch when looking over him and your gently but firm voice that raises his morale, similarly to how his wife used to. His wife...

The loss of his wife, children, home, health, and title was almost too much for him to bear. The former merchant fears that to love again and inevitably lose it all similarly will break what little there's left of him.

"... Cruelly, it lets me live, for now. I think it enjoys ravaging my body more slowly..."

Baraka must protect you, even if it's from him. He could never forgive himself if he were to spill your blood, much less because of his sanity slipping away. The former tribune constantly warns you to be ready whenever he starts to lose his grip on his mind and not get too close. You don't really listen to the latter as you embrace him once more in your arms and promise everything will be alright. Eventually, the Tarkatan would return your gesture, savoring every second while committing your scent to memory.

Baraka hopes you'll forgive him for whatever he does when he can't remember you or anyone.

...

Baraka isn't to remember everything he did or said, for that matter. Unfortunately, he remembers how he saw you cry. He swears by Delia that it wasn't him, it was Tarkat. Why? Why? W.H.Y?

Why does it allow him to live?!?

"Y/N... Please forgive me..."

But what's done is done.

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: System-Neutral Settings (Fantasy Edition)

Sometimes what you need, rather than a new ruleset, is a setting that makes your system sing. These are a series of system-neutral settings that you can pick up, borrow from, or use wholesale in a game of your choice! 

All of these settings would work very well in fantasy or fantasy-like games.

Into the Riverlands, by Ostrichmonkey Games.

The Riverlands rests at the heart of the world. A great current of life and movement that winds and weaves its way through the mountains and valleys of the central continent. The Riverlands stretch from the south to the far north, acting as the lifeblood of continental travel and trade.

The Riverlands are a region of vibrancy and mystery. A colorful mosaic of peoples that call it home, and the strange twilight forest that surrounds it. Explore the bustling and vibrant City of Bridges, the mysterious and primeval Forest, the distant and crumbling Empire, and even further afield.

The backgrounds of The Riverlands have interesting themes, from the mercurial Trickster-Poet to the strange Forest Dweller, to the patient Marsh Apiarist. Picking up a game that is very light on rules, such as Tunnel Goons or Into the Odd, would allow you to slot in a character that fits inside the Riverlands without having to carry as much of the dungeon-delving as traditional OSR games. 

Ultraviolet Grasslands and the Black City, by WTF Studio.

The Ultraviolet Grasslands and the Black City is a tabletop role-playing game book, half setting, half adventure, and half epic trip; inspired by psychedelic heavy metal, the Dying Earth genre, and classic Oregon Trail games. It leads a group of ‘heroes’ into the depths of a vast and mythic steppe filled with the detritus of time and space and fuzzy riffs.

This game is designed with a d20 game in mind but much of the setting feels very fitting for an OSR-style regardless of the dice you use. There are 200 pages of interesting locations with encounter tables and plot seeds. Some of the locations in this city include The Porcelain Citadel, The Steppe of the Lime Nomads, The Glass Bridge and The Forest of Meat. The world is weird and resists the tones of high fantasy by populating the world with insectoids, fungal colonies, strange drugs and ancient machines. If you want acid fantasy that mixes the in a bit of weird science or post-apocalypse, this is the setting for you. The designer of this setting also has a free player guide, as well as a creature generator supplement. 

Into the Wyrd and Wild, by Feral Indie Studio.

Beyond the reach of roads, past the scope of mortals there is a darkened place. A shadowed tree-line where no-one dares cross and whose boundaries go undisturbed.

This is not the woods of peaceful fey and beast, but the dark and twisted children’s tale that kept you full of terror. It is a world of fear, madness, and bloodshed; ruled over by the uncaring watch of ancient trees. There is no bargaining with the primal forces that rule the uncivilized world, as you have nothing they could ever want.

The woods do not care for you. Never forget that.

Another dark fantasy setting, Into the Wyrd and Wild includes more than a list of beasts and NPCs for the characters to encounter. It includes a way to think about money in the setting, how to emphasize exhaustion, and various other rules that demonstrate the danger and violence to be found inside the Wilds. One of my favourite sections of the book is about the Court of Broken Branches, a faction built out of abandoned children, stitched up with silver stitches and led by a magical Queen. An incredibly evocative setting and a top-tier piece of work in terms of design.

Guidebook to the Viridian Maw, by Orbis Tertius Press.

This 24-page PDF of the digest-sized zine contains fodder for a wilderness sandbox campaign in the Viridian Maw: an overgrown meteor crater, mutated and reshaped by fungal influence. To get a sense of it, check out the free download for the one-page version of the setting.

Everything is system neutral & stats agnostic, though the material is written with genre assumptions leaning toward D&D/OSR games (but usable for games like Apocalypse World or Dungeon World, too).

If you want a game that sinks your players deep into a thick, dangerous forest, this is a great option for you. There are tons of great descriptions of beasts and plants that your characters can encounter, including Driftnettle, a floating kelp-like creature that prey on the unaware and asleep, and the Sporehorn elk, a symbiotic partnership between an elk and a colony of fungi. Much of the encounters you’ll find in this zine will prompt changes to characters that make them weirder, so it might be a good idea to let your players know about that before playing in this setting.

This game works for dark fantasy, but I’ve also used it as inspiration for a Changeling: the Lost game as well!

Into the Sea Woods, by Diwata Ng Manila. 

The Sea-Woods is the way it has always been: just beyond the village, across a wall that bars the rest of the roots from coming forward. No one ever knew why that wall was built. Was it meant to keep the Woods out or keep the Village in? One thing's for sure, things changed when a tree stood up from its spot and punched a part of the wall until it collapsed. It then promptly walked deeper into the woods, clearing through a small path.

Never heard of a tree walking before? Ah, then you really must be new here, aren't you?

This is a small collection of micro-settings that are whimsical and evocative. This is more of a friendly forest than a scary one - great for setting a Studio-Ghibli kind of tone. There’s a bit of a formatting issue with the current version, but the ideas present in each setting give a great amount of inspiration for making locations that feel safe and yet unique for your play group. My favourite is the Cabin, a house that always has a warm cup of tea and a freshly made bed, despite having no visible caretaker. Rumour has it the Keeper only appears at night, and if she does, she’ll bet her heart on a game of poker. I've also used inspiration from this setting in a Changeling game before, to great success!

The Gardens of Ynn, by Dying Stylishly Games.

The Gardens of Ynn is a point-crawl adventure set in an ever-shifting extradimensional garden. Each expodition generates its route as it explores, resulting in new vistas being unlocked with every visit. It's a big garden full of whimsy and delight and surreal perils. 

The Gardens of Ynn are a constantly re-arranging set of gardens that act as a magical maze. As a point-crawl adventure, this is a great option for a point-crawl game, but it might also be an interesting piece of inspiration for a horror game of some kind. This book begins with some basic lore about the Gardens themselves, followed by a d20 table that adds how deep you are in the Gardens to determine which area you happen upon next. Each area has a description, and many areas have additional roll tables to determine what can be found, or what kinds of encounters you might find within.

[iamnmbr3]

ferrets were domesticated from the European polecat specifically to hunt rabbits, leading to the sport being named ferreting

Also they are apparently banned NYC for absolutely insane reasons because the NYC government is convinced they could escape and bite children (not really an issue. Also dogs and cats are legal in NYC so ???) or develop feral colonies (even though that isn't an issue anywhere in the USA) for some bizarre reason. Perhaps because they confused them with stories about feral polecat populations in other countries? It's really weird.

ALSO ferrets are highly intelligent and require a lot of regular exercise and mental stimulation. You absolutely CANNOT just keep them in a cage. They need to be let out to run around the house regularly (I'm talking daily) or they will get bored. And you need to give them attention. Keeping them in a cage all the time and ignoring them is like doing that to a cat or a dog. They are extremely intelligent and emotional creatures and it always saddens me how many people get them without understanding this and subject them to really poor treatment.

Also you need to "ferret-proof" your house because they WILL get into everything including things that are dangerous for them.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Footnotes 101 - 188

[101] Toby Rollo, “Feral Children: Settler Colonialism, Progress, and the Figure of the Child,” Settler Colonial Studies (June 2016), 1–20.

[102] Gilles Deleuze, “Postscript on the Societies of Control,” October 59 (1992), 3–7.

[103] Institute for Precarious Consciousness, “We Are All Very Anxious,” WeArePlanC.org, April 4, 2014, http://www.weareplanc.org/blog/we-are-all-very-anxious/.

[104] Sitrin, Everyday Revolutions, 37.

[105] Ivan Illich, Tools for Conviviality (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), 12.

[106] Our readings and understandings of Illich’s work, and our understanding of conviviality in particular, is indebted to conversations with friends who either knew Illich personally or worked closely with his ideas, including Gustavo Esteva, Madhu Suri Prakash, Dan Grego, Dana L. Stuchul and Matt Hern.

[107] Quoted in The Invisible Committee, To Our Friends, 232–3.

[108] Marina Sitrin, ed., Horizontalism: Voices of Popular Power in Argentina (Oakland: AK Press, 2006); Sitrin, Everyday Revolutions.

[109] Rebecca Solnit, A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster (New York: Penguin Books, 2009), 2.

[110] Idem, 7.

[111] Leanne Simpson, “Dancing the World into Being: A Conversation with Idle No More’s Leanne Simpson,” Yes! Magazine, March 5, 2013, http://www.yesmagazine.org/peace-justice/dancing-the-world-into-being-a-conversation-with-idle-no-more-leanne-simpson.

[112] Quoted in Tony Manno, “Unsurrendered,” Yes! Magazine, 2015, http://www.arcgis.com/apps/MapJournal/index.html?appid=b24e304ce1944493879cba028607dfc7.

[113] INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence, “INCITE! Critical Resistance Statement,” 2001, http://www.incite-national.org/page/incite-critical-resistance-statement.

[114] Rachel Zellars and Naava Smolash, “If Black Women Were Free: Part 1,” Briarpatch, August 16, 2016, http://briarpatchmagazine.com/articles/view/if-black-women-were-free.

[115] Victoria Law, “Against Carceral Feminism,” Jacobin, October 17, 2014, https://www.jacobinmag.com/2014/10/against-carceral-feminism/.

[116] Creative Interventions, “Toolkit,” CreativeInterventions.org, http://www.creative-interventions.org/tools/toolkit/ (accessed December 1, 2016).

[117] Quoted in carla bergman and Corine Brown, Common Notions: Handbook Not Required, 2015.

[118] Gustavo Esteva, interview by carla bergman and Nick Montgomery, video, 2012.

[119] Kelsey Cham C., Nick Montgomery, and carla bergman, interview by carla bergman and Nick Montgomery, October 26, 2013.

[120] Marina Sitrin, “Occupy Trust: The Role of Emotion in the New Movements,” Cultural Anthropology (February 2013), https://culanth.org/fieldsights/75-occupy-trust-the-role-of-emotion-in-the-new-movements.

[121] Gustavo Esteva and Madhu Suri Prakash, Grassroots Postmodernism: Remaking the Soil of Cultures (London: Zed Books, 1998), 91.

[122] Day, Gramsci Is Dead, 200.

[123] Zainab Amadahy, Wielding the Force: The Science of Social Justice, Smashwords edition (Zainab Amadahy, 2013), 36.

[124] Esteva and Prakash, Grassroots Postmodernism, 89.

[125] Amadahy, Wielding the Force, 149.

[126] Emma Goldman, “The Hypocrisy of Puritanism,” in Red Emma Speaks: An Emma Goldman Reader, ed. Alix Kates Shulman (Amherst: Humanity Books, 1998), 157.

[127] Chris Dixon, “For the Long Haul,” Briarpatch Magazine, June 21, 2016, http://briarpatchmagazine.com/articles/view/for-the-long-haul.

[128] We first encountered the concept of “public secret” as a way of getting at the affect of anxiety today, described by the Institute for Precarious Consciousness. Earlier uses can be traced to the work of Ken Knabb (which credits the concept to Marx) and his curation of Situationist writing, as well as Jean-Pierre Voyer’s reading of Reich. See Institute for Precarious Consciousness, “Movement Internationalism(s),” Interface 6/2; Jean-Pierre Voyer, “Wilhelm Reich: How To Use,” in Public Secrets, trans. Ken Knabb (Bureau of Public Secrets, 1997), http://www.bopsecrets.org/PS/reich.htm; Jean-Pierre Voyer to Ken Knabb, “Discretion Is the Better Part of Value,” April 20, 1973, http://www.bopsecrets.org/PS/Reich.add.htm.

[129] This was suggested to us by Richard Day.

[130] brown, interview by carla bergman and Nick Montgomery.

[131] Amador Fernández-Savater, “Reopening the Revolutionary Question,” ROAR Magazine 0 (December 2015).

[132] Federici, interview by carla bergman and Nick Montgomery.

[133] Touza, interview by carla bergman and Nick Montgomery.

[134] Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals and Ecce Homo, ed. Walter Kaufmann (New York: Vintage, 1989), 32.

[135] Foucault, “Preface.”

[136] Cited in Ashanti Alston, “An Interview with Ashanti Alston,” interview by Team Colours, June 6, 2008, https://inthemiddleofthewhirlwind.wordpress.com/an-interview-with-ashanti-alston/.

[137] Thoburn develops his conception of a “militant diagram” through a reading of Deleuze and Guattari, and we have found it useful in thinking about rigid radicalism as an affective tendency that is irreducible to the gestures, habits, practices, and statements that are simultaneously its fuel and its discharge. See Nicholas Thoburn, “Weatherman, the Militant Diagram, and the Problem of Political Passion,” New Formations 68/1 (2010), 125–42.

[138] Colectivo Situaciones, “Something More on Research Militancy: Footnotes and Procedures and (In)Decisions,” 5.

[139] Thoburn, “Weatherman, the Militant Diagram, and the Problem of Political Passion,” 129; Cathy Wilkerson, Flying Close to the Sun: My Life and Times as a Weatherman (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2007), 265–300.

[140] Bernardine Dohrn, Bill Ayers, and Jeff Jones, eds., Sing a Battle Song: The Revolutionary Poetry, Statements, and Communiques of the Weather Underground 1970–1974 (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2006), 18.

[141] Bill Ayers, Fugitive Days: Memoirs of an Antiwar Activist (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009), 154.

[142] Esteva, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[143] Thoburn, “Weatherman, the Militant Diagram, and the Problem of Political Passion,” 134.

[144] Esteva, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[145] Sitrin, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[146] Emma Goldman, Living My Life (New York: Dover Publications, 1970), 54.

[147] amory starr, “Grumpywarriorcool: What Makes Our Movements White?,” in Igniting a Revolution: Voices in Defense of the Earth (Oakland: AK Press, 2006), 379.

[148] Idem, 383.

[149] crow, Black Flags and Windmills, 81.

[150] Alston, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[151] Richard J. F. Day, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman, phone, March 18, 2014.

[152] Alston, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[153] CrimethInc., “Against Ideology?,” CrimethInc.com, 2010, http://www.crimethinc.com/texts/atoz/ideology.php.

[154] Erich Fromm, Man for Himself: An Inquiry Into the Psychology of Ethics (Oxon: Routledge, 1947), 235.

[155] See Raoul Vaneigem, The Movement of the Free Spirit, trans. Randall Cherry and Ian Patterson, revised edition (New York, Cambridge, MA: Zone Books, 1998); Federici, Caliban and the Witch, 21–60.

[156] Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals and Ecce Homo, 33.

[157] Idem, 36.

[158] Quoted by Maya Angelou in Malcolm X, Malcolm X: An Historical Reader, ed. James L. Conyers and Andrew P. Smallwood (Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2008), 181.

[159] Kelsey Cham C., “Radical Language in the Mainstream,” Perspectives on Anarchist Theory 29 (2016), 122–3.

[160] Asam Ahmad, “A Note on Call-Out Culture,” Briarpatch, March 2, 2015, http://briarpatchmagazine.com/articles/view/a-note-on-call-out-culture.

[161] Ngọc Loan Trần, “Calling IN: A Less Disposable Way of Holding Each Other Accountable,” Black Girl Dangerous, December 18, 2013, http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/2013/12/calling-less-disposable-way-holding-accountable/.

[162] Ibid.

[163] Chris Crass, “White Supremacy Cannot Have Our People: For a Working Class Orientation at the Heart of White Anti-Racist Organizing,” Medium, July 28, 2016, https://medium.com/@chriscrass/white-supremacy-cannot-have-our-people-21e87d2b268a.

[164] Ibid.

[165] Ursula Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven (New York: Scribner, 1999), 137.

[166] This section title is borrowed from Eve Sedgwick, from whom we’ve also taken the concept of paranoid reading. See Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, “Paranoid Reading and Reparative Reading, Or, You’re so Paranoid, You Probably Think This Essay Is about You,” in Touching Feeling: Affect, Pedagogy, Performativity (Duke University Press, 2003), 124–51.

[167] Killjoy, Interview with Margaret Killjoy.

[168] Sedgwick, “Paranoid Reading and Reparative Reading, Or, You’re so Paranoid, You Probably Think This Essay Is about You.”

[169] Day, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[170] Mik Turje, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman, March 4, 2014.

[171] Walidah Imarisha, Angels with Dirty Faces: Three Stories of Crime, Prison, and Redemption (Oakland: AK Press, 2016), 113–15.

[172] Walidah Imarisha, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman, email, December 22, 2015.

[173] Federici, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[174] John Holloway, Change the World Without Taking Power: The Meaning of Revolution Today, 2nd Revised Edition (London: Pluto Press, 2005), 215.

[175] Coulthard, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[176] This turn of phrase comes to us from Stevphen Shukaitis’s wonderful book Imaginal Machines: Autonomy & Self-Organization in the Revolutions of Everyday Life (New York: Autonomedia, 2009), 141–2, http://www.minorcompositions.info/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/ImaginalMachines-web.pdf.

[177] This idea is paraphrased from Lauren Berlant and her conception of “cruel optimism,” a relation in which our attachments become obstacles to our flourishing. See Lauren Berlant, Cruel Optimism (Durham: Duke University Press, 2011).

[178] Federici, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman.

[179] Zainab Amadahy, interview by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman, January 15, 2016.

[180] Jo Freeman, “Trashing: The Dark Side of Sisterhood,” JoFreeman.com, n.d., http://www.jofreeman.com/joreen/trashing.htm.

[181] Marge Piercy, “The Grand Coolie Dam,” (Boston: New England Free Press, 1969).

[182] See Jo Freeman, “The Tyranny of Structurelessness,” Ms. Magazine, July 1973.

[183] Silvia Federici, “Putting Feminism Back on Its Feet,” Social Text 9/10 (1984), 338–46.

[184] See Raúl Zibechi, Dispersing Power: Social Movements as Anti-State Forces, trans. Ramor Ryan (Oakland: AK Press, 2010); Zibechi, Territories in Resistance.

[185] Silvia Federici, “Losing the sense that we can do something is the worst thing that can happen,” interview by Candida Hadley, Halifax Media Co-op, November 5, 2013, http://halifax.mediacoop.ca/audio/losing-sense-we-can-do-something-worst-thing-can-h/19601.

{1} BIPOC is an acronym for Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. We understand these not as ethnic categories or essentialist identities, but complex political categories forged in struggles against white supremacy and settler colonialism. For instance, the creation of BIPOC-specific spaces or “caucuses” within various struggles has created opportunities for understanding how racism or whiteness is playing out, and how it can be confronted effectively.

{2} ISIL stands for the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, often used interchangeably with Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS).

{3} Note: when we interviewed Silvia Federici, we were still using the phrase “sad militancy” in place of “rigid radicalism.” The original terminology is retained throughout.

[theworldvsyoshiko]

Alright, current state of the colony, because children keep piling in and I haven't talked much about some of 'em.

Yoshiko "Happy" Russell: Needs no introduction. She's 22 now, which is fitting because she's currently living roughly the life of a grad student: she wakes up every day, has a beer or two with breakfast, and then spends the next sixteen hours in a cave doing research on important topics like 'how do we more efficiently generate power' and 'how do I mass produce space cocaine?'

Her mech army's grown a bit, but this is the point of the game where having a few mid-tier mechs is less 'game-breaking' and more 'allowing me to keep up with the difficulty curve despite having a mostly-pubescent population.'

Mami "Poopy" Tanner: Now 18 years old. After getting her leg ripped off by a bear, she went to jail, found Cyber-Jesus, and converted to the Creticonian Creed. She's persuasive as hell, so she's now the preacher counterpart to Yoshiko's leadership role in the ideoligion. A mech raid smashed down the wall to her prison cell and shot off her peg leg, so Hairy made her a new bionic leg. ... I mean, they could've just put another chunk of wood on there, but it seemed like the appropriate welcome to transhumanism.

Tied with Yoshiko for the title of best marksman, the best Social person by a wide margin, and a pretty damn good doctor, botanist, and cook. 'Who installed her bionic leg if she's the doctor?' you might ask? The answer is simple: Yoshiko installed it, immediately after drinking a beer, with a skill level of 'significant familiarity' in medicine. (One step below 'capable amateur,' for the record.)

Marta "Hairy" Bryant: Now 19 years old. She's the crafting specialist, which means that she's responsible for about 80% of the colony's income, and also the backup researcher. And a backup mechanitor, for that matter. She's like a mirror of Yoshiko, if Yoshiko had learned how to do anything useful before the age of about 15. She had a prosthetic arm when she arrived, so now she's got a bionic arm, because having a better-than-nothing kinda replacement arm on your main crafter sucks.

She also has the Coward trait, so I don't know why I gave her a shotgun, because she runs away screaming when enemies get into shotgun range. Thanks to being the backup mechanitor, she's the caravaneer, since she can use a herd of non-vital mechs to haul everything.

Anyuan Ji (no nickname): He's 15 now. You can tell that he's fifteen because even though he's not really a combatant, he's decided to walk around shirtless wearing nothing but a bandolier. He's still bad at everything... except Construction, where he's a capable amateur. So he spends all day making spike traps and doing unskilled labor like making bricks and processing fuel. This has turned out to be pretty useful, because literally everybody else's time is worth too much to spend much of it on things like that.

At least he's converted to the Creticonian Creed, so now he's only constantly seething about Yoshiko's cool bedroom.

Alyona Pruitt (no nickname): Also 15 now and, fucking thankfully, no longer a member of that fascist pig religion. Unfortunately, she basically went around calling everybody else racial slurs back when she still followed it. (Again: she is also a member of the race she considered inferior.) Everyone's list of relationship modifiers with her includes things like 'Insulted x4.' So most of the colony isn't very fond of her. It's a... work in progress. Look, this is what happens when you adopt feral teenagers.

No fixed role, but she's a good all-rounder. Like, really, she's at least decent at everything but art, medicine, plants, animals, and melee, and most of those are categories I really don't need help in anyway. Her traits are Misandrist and Slob, and you'd think this would cause more problems than it has so far.

Siennah "Renze" Sia: I haven't talked much about Renze yet, which is a shame, because she's kinda been the star of the show since she arrived. Here's what you need to know about Renze: She is a Hussar, essentially a genetically engineered supersoldier. In exchange for being really aggressive (this will be a problem sooner or later), perpetually addicted to combat meth from the age of 13, and bad at lots of things, she's naturally really durable and good at fighting,

Except Renze is 11 now and she spends 90% of her time cooking and making clothes. She loves them. She would happily cook all day every day if she could. She adores Poopy, which makes sense, since Poopy was also weirdo gun gremlin as a child. Her genes make her the third-best marksman in the colony already, so she's got a sniper rifle to keep her at a safe distance. She's getting her genes catalogued, and hopefully some day we'll be able to re-engineer her without the aggression and meth addiction. Until then: the drug lab is spinning up production.

Joseph "Jam" Zarkos: I still don't know what this kid was running from, and considering that the last time a child showed up chased by mystery danger it turned into a siege that made me consider evacuating the colony, I am concerned.

He's 11. He's naturally incredibly passionate about plants and animals, except he has the trait Animal Hater and he in fact follows an ideoligion that teaches that humans are so superior to animals that being nice to an animal is an act of self-debasement.