#many things are forbidden by law

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

Sometimes I just wonder about the actual number of people who had some kind of crisis because of the way Jeremy Brett said 'Many things are forbidden by law'

[melloneah]

2 days till my final exam rant in tags sorry i gotta let it spill somewhere 😭

[kirain]

Sigh....Galemancers really love to move the goal post when it comes to the grooming accusations huh? You found out Gale was a fully grown MAN when Mystra slept with him so now you have to say, "Well then he was emotionally groomed and the power dynamic is too vast." Mystra is a neutral good goddess because she's Midnight, who was a neutral good human. She hates that her magic has to be used for good and evil. Ao makes her share it evenly but she'd rather not. She would never do anything to hurt Gale. The writers of the game even confirmed she's not a groomer. People like you also downplay the point of Gale's entire story arc, which is he should've listened to Mystra! The whole point of his personal quest is he needs to learn to humble himself and listen to his goddess! He has no one to blame for his downfall but himself.

There's no "post" to move, anon. The game and lore give us all the context we need. Grooming doesn't only apply to children, and people have proven right and left that Mystra is terrible at relationships. She's petty and abusive when she isn't obeyed by her partners, and that's been the case with all of her iterations. Even the narrator describes her as a "jealous goddess" when you visit her shrine. Plus, your information is wrong on many accounts; the most pertinent being that the Mystra of BG3/5E isn't technically Midnight. Cyric and Shar killed her, reducing her to her godly essence (lore-wise that means she died). The current Mystra is an amalgamation of the vestiges of Mystryl, Mystra, and Midnight, as told in the novel Elminster Enraged.

Now, this is about to get complicated, as it always does with Mystra, so from here on out I'll be referring to Mystra #1 as Mystryl, Mystra #2 as Mystra #2, Mystra #3 as Midnight, and Mystra #4 as 5E Mystra. Alright, let's get started.

Elminster had to reform the fallen goddess by giving her fragments of all three iterations of Mystra. Since all three iterations are combined, our current 5E Mystra embodies the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. There's even a conversation with The Simbul (one of the Seven Sisters and a Chosen of Mystra) where the newly reformed 5E Mystra speaks of Elminster as her "longest lover". This puzzles The Simbul because that was something of the old Mystra (Mystra #2), not Midnight. The new 5E Mystra replies that she has become a combination of the memories of Mystryl, Mystra #2, and Midnight. This is all in chapter 25-30 of Elminster Enraged. I know it's confusing, but in short: 5E Mystra is not Midnight anymore, and the leading mind is clearly that of Mystra #2, hence her extremely poor judgement—a recurring theme with her character.

Mystryl and Mystra #2 were originally lawful neutral. The alignment changed to neutral good when Midnight took up the mantle, because Midnight herself was a neutral good person. But now it seems 5E Mystra is true neutral, because you are right, anon; Ao won't allow her to do whatever she wants. Midnight tried and was forbidden. 5E Mystra absolutely does not have the same level of humanity or kindness as Midnight, and that may be because Mystryl had no human consciousness and Mystra #2 was a mess.

Regardless of her alignment, she must embody her domain by Ao's decree, which means she needs to spread magic across all Realmspace. Since she has to maintain the balance, she approaches good, neutral, and evil mages with potential opportunities. This isn't a criticism (that's just how godhood works), but rather proof that Mystra is absolutely capable of good and bad. I don't want to hear any more of this "she's a precious little bean and Gale's victim" nonsense. Even if she wants to be, she's not. As Kikitakite said in their post, she's done some fucked up things.

Whether or not the writers intended to make Mystra a groomer, that's exactly what they did. Sometimes writers don't realise they've written an abusive character until they're criticised. Take writer of The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks, for example. He didn't realise he'd written Noah to be an abusive piece of shit until Ryan Gosling pointed it out himself. Gosling has gone on record many times to say he hates Noah, and experts have labeled him an unrealistic and emotionally abusive/manipulative character. The same can be said for Stephenie Meyer, who wrote some of the most celebrated toxic relationships in recent media—with a dash of borderline pedophilia on the side. Therapists have weighed in extensively to tell people that Bella and Edward's relationship isn't healthy and shouldn't be emulated in real life. Indeed, perhaps the best thing to come out of the entire franchise is Robert Pattinson's hatred of Edward and the series as a whole. Jacob's actor, Taylor Lautner, even argued with Meyer's on set because of how weird the "imprinting" segment was and he didn't want to come off as predatory. Meyer argued it was "romantic". 😕

Even if you don't agree Gale was groomed, Mystra is flagrantly responsible for his insecurities and she never should've put her hands on him. The power dynamic is too vast, and even god Gale (conceited as he is) realises it by the end. He only stays in a relationship with Tav if they allow him to ascend them alongside him as his equal. He recognises that anything else would be unhealthy and unacceptable. Also, I researched high and low regarding your claim, but none of the devs have dispelled the idea that Mystra is a groomer. In fact, the most I could find was one dev simply saying, "To Gale it was love, but he didn't know any better." If anything, that only confirms he was confused and didn't know what to do. Their "relationship" was a stunningly horrible idea from the start and that's not on Gale, it's on the literal cosmic being who initiated it.

Moreover, Gale was very likely 17 when Mystra revealed herself to him. This perfectly fits into the 5E Forgotten Realms timeline. If so, no, he absolutely wasn't a grown man. He was a teenager. Mystra may not have slept with him until he was in his 20's, but that still makes it a disgusting teacher-turned-lover situation. Gale even tells us he was "young" when she took him into her fold, and he was only eight years old when Elminster started their lessons. Remember, Elminster is Mystra's biggest apologist. He would've taught Gale to revere her, which means there was almost never a point in his life when Mystra wasn't the main focus. You can tell by the way he speaks about her in Act 1. He's in awe, he's excited, he's proud she chose him. That does something to a child. Something irreversible. If anything, Elminster is complicit in what happened. I've said this before, but he couldn't even be bothered to visit Gale himself. He sent a simulacrum.

As for your accusation that I'm "downplaying" Gale's story arc—you're damn right I am, because the writers made me! Most D&D players I know aren't very happy with how Mystra is portrayed in the game, and that's probably because even they know she isn't presented in a very flattering light. If you really think about it, it's obvious what the writers were going for, but they failed. For example, you said Gale should've listened to Mystra, right? Well, in Act 1 he admits his ambition was his undoing, blames himself for his downfall, and by Act 2 he's literally ready to off himself for her. In fact, he's the only one who sees her ultimatum as justified. Every other companion says she's being cruel and unreasonable. If Gale actually blows himself up at the end of Act 2, the results are catastrophic. The brain is destroyed, yes, but the tadpoles, free of the Absolute's control, complete their transformation and infect/enslave the entire Sword Coast. Anon. She. Is. Stupid. Even the Narrator is like, "You wanna ... you wanna try that again?"

The entirety of Act 2 is Gale learning he shouldn't listen to Mystra. And then she has the audacity to lecture him in Act 3? If he'd listened, it would've been the end of everything. Maybe if Mystra was as infallible as she pretends to be, she would've put her three brains together and came up with a better, less vindictive plan. Because make no mistake, she wanted Gale to blow up in Act 2, which is ridiculous. I know this is an uncomfortable topic for some people, but gods aren't perfect, especially in fiction. They're flawed. They're selfish. Some of them are straight up assholes. The real irony of Gale's arc isn't that he has no one to blame but himself, it's that Mystra should blame herself. At no point does she even consider if she's being unreasonable or unfair. There's no self reflection whatsoever. And the writers expect me to think Gale's full of himself? I wonder where he got it.

Probably from his teacher. ✋🎤

[radiantmists]

i didn't want to add this to the post because it would add a bit too much seriousness to a good meme, but i do think it raised an interesting point. because obviously kaladin didn't forget that racism existed in that moment, he was confronting one of his primary oppressors, the guy who betrayed him multiple times over specifically because he was darkeyed.

what kaladin does forget in that moment is the pervasiveness of racism, and the extent to which it's baked into his society's institutions. and i think it makes a lot of sense for kaladin specifically to forget that (even though he absolutely knows it intellectually)!

because kaladin has always been an 'exception'. his father was a doctor, much higher nahn than anyone else in the town. kaladin is as close to literate as an alethi man is allowed to be-- more literate than adolin, presumably than elhokar. marrying the child of the citylord and having lighteyed children-- theoretically 'escaping racism', though of course that wouldn't have worked out too well in practice-- was not only thinkable but likely, unlike the false hope of defeating a shardbearer that others cling to.

before roshone, kaladin did suffer from racism-- but less than others, and in a way where he was led to believe that it was escapable and conditional.

and many of the worst things that happened to him went against the rules of alethi society. roshone was corrupt, and should never have been promoted. kaladin was immune to the draft due to his apprenticeship, and tien was young enough that choosing him was taboo if not forbidden.

similarly, tien being sent to the front lines was the sort of tactic that 'honorable' alethi norms like the codes of war would have considered reprehensible.

and of course when he saved amaram and defeated the shardbearer, the rules of society dictated that he be rewarded; i imagine choosing to give the shard to amaram should, from an honorable man, have been rewarded with pay and retirement for his men or something similar.

kaladin's enslavement was not just dishonorable by alethi social norms, but illegal.

and the kholins, up to this point, have signaled commitment both to the law and to those alethi social honor codes. and while they (especially elhokar) have been casually prejudiced, they've also welcomed the idea of kaladin as the captain of the cobalt guard, suggesting that they aren't so racist that they can't sometimes see reason.

kaladin not realizing the boon was only for lighteyes was a little naive of him, but him expecting the legal system to work for him-- when he took the issue directly to someone who knew him, respected him, and owed him the lives of his whole family-- is very understandable in the light of his experiences.

kaladin is the kind of person from a minority who was raised genuinely thinking that if they behave well, they might experience some prejudice, but no door is truly, systemically closed to them. he's had some knocks to that belief (and is kind of a suspicious person), but in the first part of words of radiance the world seems to be trying to reassure him that not all lighteyes are (too) racist, that the system is not (inherently) unjust, that he's simply been the victim of some of the more prejudiced fringes of lighteyed society.

and then the rug gets pulled out from under him.

because no amount of familiarity or respect will make elhokar side with him over one of the good old boys, no accomplishment will allow a darkeyes to challenge a lighteyes, and no amount of good behavior or education will make kaladin white lighteyed.

but a shardblade would.

...right?

i think this and the immediate aftermath, with adolin giving kaladin a blade and him giving it to moash, could have been a really interesting examination of that idea, because i don't think that lighteyed society would have smoothly accepted either of them. even by rhythm of war, we get hints that kaladin occupies a weird social place where he technically has a lighteyed rank but he seems to have a complicated relationship with 'other' lighteyes (obviously made particularly weird by him being a radiant and because most of the lighteyes he interacts with heavily are also royalty, but he doesn't quite seem to be equals with most of them).

but i don't think sanderson quite understood the experience he was writing about with kaladin, and he set out to write a series about an apocalypse. and so kaladin's complicated-- but not unrealistic-- perspective on alethi casteism will go unexamined.

[luminalunii97]

saying F U to the regime again and again: a quick update on women vs IR regime

Famous Iranian actresses have been appearing in public without a mandatory hijab. This has been happening since the beginning of the protests. Last month, Kiumars Pourahmad, a well known Iranian screenwriter and director, committed suicide. He had a history of criticizing the regime's political decisions. At his funeral, some of the famous actresses attended without mandatory hijab.

You can see Fateme Motamedarya, Katayoun Riyahi, and Golab Adineh in these pictures from the funeral. Ms. Riyahi was one of the first celebrities who took her hijab off at the start of the Jina (Mahsa) Amini protest and for that she's been the target of IRGC harassment and has been to court.

Last week, in the ceremony of screening of the final episode of Lion's Skin (a persian crime show), actress Pantea Bahram participated without hijab. The manager of Tehran’s Lotus Cinema, where the ceremony was held, was fired for letting her attend without hijab.

Other than prosecution, the regime has blocked these celebrities' bank accounts. Basij and IRGC members have also attacked and harassed these women online and in real life.

Students on university campuses take off their hijabs. There's an installed version of morality police in universities that monitor students' styles. Female students must wear "appropriate" hijab and male students must wear "manly" clothes (one of my guy friends once was asked to go back home and change his shoes because they were red casual loafers. Apparently that's gay!). When you enroll in Iranian universities, the first thing you do is to go to the security office and sign an agreement that says you promise to follow the Islamic dress code. There are posters all over the campus that says things like "hijab is security" "respect the islamic hijab" and "not wearing appropriate hijab (tight short clothes, too much hair, makeup, etc) would result in legal action". So not wearing hijab on campus, where a lot of security cameras are installed and it's easy to identify you, is a big deal.

The regime's response to students taking off their hijabs is sending threatening messages to students' phones and increasing the security people. At the entrance of Universities, these security forces check people's clothes and if it's not proper they won't let you in. Some of the students wear the hijab at the entrance and take it off after they're in. They have warned our professors to not let non hijabi students sit in classes too.

One of my favorite trends in Iran now is when guys wear our hijab. These pictures are from universities. Guys wearing hijab make the security mad. This is a great act of solidarity with women against the obligatory hijab.

Some men have been doing either this or wearing shorts in public. The former is to ridicule the obligatory dress code and the latter is because wearing shorts in public is forbidden for guys too.

And women not wearing hijab in general. Though hijab is not our only issue, we want a whole new political system, one that is not theocratic or terroristic, hijab is something the regime won't back down from because it's one of their strongest oppressing tools. If they let us win the fight against obligatory hijab, I quote from a regime head, "people keep demanding more changes"!

So to put people against people to enforce the hijab law again, the regime has closed down many businesses (hotels, cafes, malls, bookstores, etc) for welcoming non hijabi female costumers. They have also warned taxi and bus drivers to not let non hijabi women in their vehicles.

Although not everyone is disobeying the hijab law (some believe in hijab, some don't want to pay the price), the number of women who take the risk and don't wear hijab in Tehran and many other cities is high enough that you feel encouraged to keep doing it.

[forever--darling]

say yes to me

summary: anakin skywalker was like a forbidden fruit, the roommate to the guy that had been sleeping with your roommate for most of the school year. the very man who lived just down the hall from you & quite possibly the only man who was capable of silencing you, because he made you that nervous. you thought he had disliked you, despised you even, but it turns out when you lose one pair of red lacy underwear in the laundry room, that isn't quite the case.

pairings: anakin skywalker x reader

word count: 12.9k

warnings/notes: modern au, college!reader, SMUT, minors DNI, like actual filth, p & v, slight degradation, mentions of masturbation, slight enemies to lovers if you squint, dominant!anakin, public nudity (slightly), no protection mentioned (but please do use it), sorry not sorry, it had to be written.

masterlist

song inspo: lose face - daniel di angelo

Anakin Skywalker despised you. He did. He would never admit it. But it was the kind of disdain that had only appeared, almost bubbling over time since the very moment he met you, over your complete obliviousness when it came to him. Or it was more ignorance, perhaps. 

You ignored him. His existence, his looming eyes that seemed to filter over your frame whenever the two of you were in the same room together, which was often. Often since you lived in the same apartment building and your two roommates had been fucking since a few weeks into the new semester. He would have to endure your impending silence, your lack of awareness of him for hours on end, sometimes many days in a row. It was excruciating how much he disliked you. Disliked those who got your attention, even his roommate, because it was something you would never give him. 

At first, he didn’t think much of it. How could he? You were gorgeous and hot, his attraction something evident from the beginning, but you could barely exchange a few words with him, let alone meet his eyes if it ever was just the two of you in a room, this one more rare. You seemed shy. Innocent. Unwilling to be tainted by him. Something he could understand, even get behind. That is until he noticed the way you interacted with others.

You were a Pre-Law major, and Pre-Law majors couldn’t afford to be shy or even mute like you appeared around him. It was a surprise when he found you late on a Friday night in their apartment, where his roommate was hosting a party, surrounded by five guys playing cards. A drink sat in front of you, lipstick stains coating the glass in the most enticing of pinks. A low-cut top that was tight hugged your torso, making it hard for Anakin to hold in any physical sound.

You were ethereal at that moment as you tipped your head back, laughing, eyelashes batting with ease — innocence void from your lustful gaze. You were putting every one of those five guys in their place, practically pulling the cash out of their wallets from simply your tongue, all while you threw progressive law jargon their way. All of which he could understand easily, far smarter than he ever let on but it all went over their ungrateful heads. You were intelligent, so breathtaking, and completely squandering it on meatheads like the ones his roommate often interacted with, and he hated them. Hated them because you would never look at him the way you did them. 

Hated them because you seemed to despise him just as much as he did you, enough that your interactions were left to drown in the thickest silence. The kinds where his pants twitched, and he wished to force you against a wall, just so you would look at him, for once. It was all that he asked, to feel what it was like to have your eyes on his. To either face the itch he got for you head-on or come to terms that it was all in his head. That it all was manifested in the truest form of need; arousal. 

How could he though when your roommate was at his apartment a few nights a week? The last thing he needed was for her to glare at him, and take him to be some asshole with a weird obsession that lacked boundaries. He couldn’t live in that reality, not when he was so much nicer, even without the possibility of your legs wrapped around him. 

It didn’t mean it was easy. Truthfully it never was. 

Especially that afternoon as he found you parading around your apartment building’s halls, laundry basket in hand, headphones pulled over your ears. It was actually almost painful. The way your loose university sweatpants hugged low on your waist, rolled once, dipping enough that he was able to see your naval piercing. Your shirt was small, a tanktop that left little to his imagination, especially your perky nipples that stuck out enough he noticed them right away. Your hair was pulled back by a clip, but a few pieces framed your face, and even that alone frustrated him. Frustrated him that you walked around like that, almost to torture him, almost oblivious to how you looked. 

It seemed you were just as oblivious about his presence, evident in the way you walked into the laundry room on their floor, mouthing the words of the song you were listening to, hips swaying far too much, but blind to the fact that he was in the room too. Or you knew and just didn��t care. That was something he could believe, a hundred times. 

He stood a few machines away from yours, pulling his clean laundry out from the washer to put in the dryer. His eyes flickered over to your form every few seconds. It seemed to be something he couldn’t help, unable to stop the way his blue irises traced the skin along your waist and how there was nothing but a thin shirt that separated your chest from him. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at you that way. If it was anyone else, it could have been creepy, but because it was him.

You hadn’t even looked his way, your eyes never gracing his form as being the one in the room and not just another guy from the floor. Anakin was sure, though, that if it had been anyone else, you would have acknowledged them. He hated how much he thought of it. Hated how much you hated him. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word unable to slip as he saw you from the corner of his eye, bending over just enough to grab your dry laundry from the dryer. 

He hated how he wasn’t in front of you or behind you for the view but rather just witnessing from the side of you the way your shirt loosened around your frame enough that he could have been able to see down your shirt. He was able to see the back material of your underwear hugging your hips, though. The thinness of it taunting like it could have snapped under one flick from his fingers. 

You pulled your laundry out, slowly, almost purposefully dropping it in your laundry basket. It only took a minute or two but it felt longer when you finally stood closing the dryer door, with your laundry basket now balancing along your hip. You turned, and yet your eyes never found his, never once acknowledging his form there standing near the washer. 

He hated how his chest tightened, the way his brows furrowed in frustration because you were likely avoiding him. Without a word ever spoken, a second of some sort of acknowledgment, though you could have been sitting in his apartment later that evening, you turned towards the door. You walked out, the door falling shut before you. 

Anakin sighed, his hip leaning against the side of the washer as he stared at the spot you were once standing. His brows were still furrowed, but they relaxed, lifting instead as he noticed the left behind bright red garment on the floor. He smirked almost devishly then as he strode across the laundry floor, bent over and plucked it from the floor. 

He tutted softly then, hating himself for how he clutched the thin piece of lace underwear in his hand like it was a lost treasure. 

The apartment was dark all but for the overhead lights in the kitchen and the candles that decorated the countertop. You sat in your room, almost encompassed by darkness other than the sunset lamp on your windowsill and the lamp on your nightstand. You sat back against your pillows, university sweatpants loose along your waist, revealing most of your stomach as you stared at your phone, unable to stop yourself as you scrolled. 

Harrison had posted a picture, one from the other night when the guys had gone out for drinks. Of course, he had been there. Anakin Skywalker. You almost let out a noise at the sight of him in the picture alone. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing how you stared at it for at least a minute, and even worse when you clicked on his profile name that was tagged. Something that happened more often than it should. 

Your stomach tightened as the familiar page appeared, his profile picture enough to have your legs tightening involuntarily. It was easy to say that he was breathtaking, or perhaps the devil himself, because of just how tempting he truly was. From the way his short curls brushed along the back of his neck, the front swept out of his eyes, or his strong jaw that seemed to always appear clenched unless it was just always that sharp. His eyes. Oh god, those were the worst of all. The blue hues that you swore could burn holes into your very being. The sole reason you couldn’t even meet his gaze; not if you didn’t want him to know. 

Know about your secret attraction that actually had you aching most nights. Nights where you couldn’t help but have your hands dip in between your legs, with him being the only one on your mind, the only voice you conjure up. It was unholy. It was wrong on so many levels, how much you wanted this man, so much so, you became mute when he appeared. 

You were a fumbling idiot around him and you never had been with anyone else. Usually, you were the one who would make them squirm, but with Anakin, you found yourself dripping with a need you had never had before. It didn’t help that he was so fucking quiet, unable to say or initiate anything unless it was his eyes somehow taunting you. It was like he didn’t like you, unable to really say much if he wanted to keep the peace. 

It was torture then as you were left to do nothing but stare and scroll aimlessly on his Instagram. 

It was stupid how he was just as perfect in real life. Not a single fault to be had. Even as he stood in the laundry room that afternoon in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants, it had you forcibly clenching your legs shut. The way his shirt hung on his frame was still tight enough to show his muscles underneath. It was casual in a way, something you would only notice if you looked hard enough, which you tended to always do. 

There was nothing to do except act as if he wasn’t there, grab your laundry from the dryer as quickly as you could, and leave before he could say anything before it became too much that you felt like spreading your legs for him right then and there. 

As you scroll down to the previous August and a shirtless picture of him in a boat appears, you couldn’t take it. You shut your phone off, dropped it onto your bed, and fell back against your pillows. Sighing, you stared up at the ceiling hating the bloom of warmth that was appearing in your chest. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the knock on your bedroom door had you looking over, already expecting the view before you. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your roommate stood in your doorway in her shower robe, towel wrapped around her head, concealing her pale blonde hair. Her freshly spray-tanned skin glowed after her shower. As you looked over at her, she raised her brows at you, curiosity appearing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, stiffening as she glanced at your phone left faced down on your bed. 

She hummed almost in interest but decided not to comment on it, instead taking in your appearance, still dressed in the clothes you had been in for the day as you cleaned the apartment and did your laundry, “Well then, that’s the problem. Girl, we have to be there in an hour.” 

“It’s seriously ten steps down the hall,” you rolled your eyes, “I think we can be late. Why are we going anyway?” 

“Because it’s Saturday night and he invited us.” 

“I know, but we could be going out.” 

“Why so you can go home with someone?” she asked, catching onto the heavy sight that left your parted lips. 

You felt your tongue catch along your teeth and unable to defend yourself, Iris smiled, a laugh emitting with ease as a smirk appeared. 

“That’s so funny,” she noted, so amused by your obvious frustrations, “You know there are going to be guys there.” 

“New guys?” you asked sitting up then with new-found interest, “Not like all of the ones at Harrison’s last party?”

“Well, that I can’t know for sure. You were flirting with at least four of them while you were playing cards. You know, Harrison doesn’t have that many friends, right? So every time one of them is attractive and tries to have sex with you, it’s not like he can go out and find three new ones right away. I’m sure some of them will be there, yes.” 

“Fuck.” 

“But, you know, Anakin will also be there. Apparently, it was his idea for them to throw another one tonight. So, if you want to talk to him,” her voice slowed like she realized what she was saying as it echoed in her ears. 

“Iris…” 

“What?” she laughed, “Maybe if you just talk to him, you’ll realize you don’t have to go and click through his Instagram so much.” 

“Iris!” you gasped, face already beginning to twinge with heat. 

She chuckled, but that quieted at the sight of your embarrassment. If it was any other day, she would say more, but she had had that conversation with you so many times before. It would only sound the same. “What? Right, sorry, anyway, I think Harrison did tell me he invited some guys on his club soccer team. So, I guess you can talk to them.” 

You huffed then, knowing that there was one reason you didn’t want to go the apartment down the hall, even if they did throw the best parties. “It’s just we are always there. Almost every weekend. I miss the bars. We’re legal, which means we should use them.”

“What’s wrong?” she questioned almost immediately, that furrowed look returning. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“You never don’t want to go to the guys’. In fact, sometimes you’re the one who suggests it, especially if they are throwing a party.” 

You were quiet, struggling to find an excuse, anything, as the thought of Anakin Skywalker flashed across your head, the picture of him shirtless still very much the screen that would appear when you unlocked your phone.

“Y/N. Speak. If this is about Anakin Skywalker, I swear—”

“I just thought something else could be fun, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

Her expression faltered slightly. She and Harrison weren’t even officially dating, and still, the thought of not seeing him that night pulled all the excitement out of her. You knew then you wouldn’t be getting your way. “I mean, we can. I would just have text the girls and tell them that—” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get dressed,” your voice cut hers off, a sheepish smile appearing, knowing that you had just doomed yourself for the rest of the night. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, it slightly fake, dread appearing in your stomach, “As long as we don’t go early and we have  a round of shots when get there.”

The hallway was dim, the low lights not as bright as usual, the beige walls seeming to be the only thing able to hold your attention as you trailed after Iris, your hands nervously fiddling with one another. Sometimes you were lucky, as Anakin was not always at the parties his roommate liked to host. Other times, he would show up late, allowing you to settle and drink lots of alcohol to prepare for his presence. And rarely he never showed up at all or was there from the beginning. Tonight would be the latter, and you weren’t ready. 

Even with the two drinks heavily poured with vodka, you felt unsteady, anxious, and warm. It was like the further you walked down the hallway, the more the walls seemed to warp within your mind into a funhouse. It was as if you were high on something, distorting your sense of reality, but really, it was just your heart beating so loudly in your ears and the lack of dinner getting to you. 

You couldn’t eat, not as you paced around your room, half of your closet thrown onto the floor, one drink already leaving rings of water on your coaster upon your desk. It was humiliating. Actually, the worst thing to ever happen to you, as no man had ever done this to you. They couldn’t. It seemed impossible, and yet there you were, acting like a blithering idiot who would surely remain throughout the night until you were too drunk to notice. 

“Y/N, you’re walking slower than my grandma here,” Iris called behind you, stopping near the guys’ door, a chuckle echoing off the walls mixing with the sound of the loud music inside. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back, trying to speed up but almost feeling as if you would fall with how much your legs were shaking. 

“Are you even going to talk to the guy?” she suddenly asked, turning to face you fully, her hands on her hips and a single brow raised. 

“W-What?” 

“Anakin. Are you going to talk to him tonight, finally? Or is this just how you’re going to act about seeing him.” 

You sighed, her words registering, making you question truly what you were so nervous about, “Iris, I…” 

“Look, if you want to talk to him, that’s fine, but if you’re just like this because he is going to be there, you need to take a second and breathe. Y/N, he’s just a guy. That’s it. A guy you don’t even talk to, trust me when I say he is not that special. You’ve spent enough time in the same room as him to know that.” 

“Right,” you whispered, suddenly finding your shoes more interesting to stare at as you felt your roommate speak. The heat in your face was only worsening, “He’s just a guy.” 

He was, and yet he drove you crazy. 

It was disappointing to find that Iris had to be the one to remind you of that when you had spent the past two years of college seeming to be the one always reminding her of that. You were the one who seemed to understand men, especially idiotic man-child twenty-something-year-olds, and yet here you stood in the hallway of your apartment complex, her finally being the one to give you the reminder. 

Sure, Anakin Skywalker was just a man. 

A twenty-one-year-old man who was quite possibly carved from the most expensive and luxurious marble and gold. He dressed in baggy jeans and warm sweaters, some of which seemed to be designer. He was quiet, unfunny at times, and was so frustrated all of the time. He wasn’t perfect, yet he seemed better than any of the guys you had liked in the past. The loose term was not used often. 

“Just a guy,” she smiled, keeping her sarcasm on lockdown as she reached for your forearm and began to drag you towards the door, “I have never seen you like this.” 

“Like what?” you asked, lowering your voice further as you stood outside of the door, confusion-filled gaze meeting her curious one. 

“You this obsessed.” 

“I am not obsessed,” you glared, finding your chest to tighten in discomfort at the thought. 

“Fine. I just mean, usually you don’t care. You never have, and somehow he has you sweating and unable to speak coherently.” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Okay, well, whatever it’s like, it’s cute,” she laughed, it only getting louder as you bumped her side with your own, almost begging for her to stop. “You’ve never acted like this over a guy.”

“Are we going to fucking stand out here all night, or are we going to go inside?” you asked rather flatly, not caring how it sounded as long as it meant she would stop staring at you the way that she was. 

She only smirked, nothing else left to say as your face said at all. The gentle blush on your cheeks, the way you were trying to avoid eye contact, most of your confidence waning as you stood there, outside of that apartment door. 

Shrugging, she finally reached for the doorknob and opened the door with ease. The second the door was cracked, the music became increasingly louder, enough to make you cringe at the way the bass echoed in your ears. Usually, you welcomed it; the sound, the smell of cigarettes and marijuana, the stickiness on the floors by the end of the night, the way you always stumbled your way back to your apartment only a few feet away. It was a life you had gotten used to, and yet you dreaded it all that night. 

Iris stepped in with ease, and you followed, inhaling as you did with the smell of cigarettes hitting you straight in the face. Even with the windows open, allowing the winter air to bask in the room, it wasn’t enough to completely drown out the smell. I

t was dark in the apartment, all but the LED lights that hung up around the ceiling, paired with a spinning disco ball on the coffee table, which Harrison swore by every single time. 

There was maybe a total of ten people in the room so far, but you knew it wouldn’t be this easy to walk through by the end of the night. As soon as the door was shut behind you, concealing you both inside, it was like he had known she was there. All of a sudden, you heard Harrison’s loud voice from across the room, him standing from where he was leaning against his sound system. 

“Ah, you guys made it!” Harrison strode over in a pair of baggy jeans and a graphic t-shirt, his arms immediately finding Iris’ hips, giving away that he had already been drinking for a bit. “You’re later than I thought you were going to be.” 

“I texted you,” she mumbled, chuckling lightly. 

“I know, but…” his voice trailed off slightly, and his bluish-green eyes found your frame still almost pressed against the front door, and it was like he had connected the dots. “Y/N.” 

“Harrison, hi,” you smiled sheepishly while also trying to peer around him to the rest of the people that filled the living room, hoping but equally dreading catching sight of a head of short curls. 

“What, you didn’t want to come tonight?” 

He was joking, he always was, as he spun Iris around so her back was pressed to his front. You laughed, it so fake as you tried to hide it all but your roommate could see through you easily. “What? No. You're a funny guy, you know that? We always come to your parties.” 

“Yeah, but you’re usually one of the first ones here.” 

“Relax,” you rolled your eyes, “Clearly, we’re still here early enough. Great turnout.” 

“There are more people coming, asshole,” he laughed, pulling his hat by the brim down further across his forehead, concealing his blonde short, cropped hair.

“Oh yeah? Anyone worth talking to?” 

“You told her about the guys from my soccer team, didn’t you?” that question was directed down towards Iris, who suddenly peered up at her non-boyfriend boyfriend with both guilt and humor. 

“What?” she shrugged. 

His eyes found yours again, that playful look now filling yours, “They’ll be here in about an hour or so. Just can you try not to screw them over?” 

“Me?” you feigned a laugh, “I could never. How do I look, though? Something they would be interested in?” 

Doing almost a little curtsy with your Converse squeaking against their hardwood floor, you turned after a moment. Noting the baggy jeans and the black sheer tube top, Harrison laughed almost in disbelief but could only look over his shoulder towards his own roommate, who sat in the middle of their couch, legs sprawled out, head dipped back as he snubbed out the cigarette that was in between his fingers. “Hm, you know you could go ask Anakin? He has expensive taste.” 

You felt yourself freeze, hating the way they both laughed, equally looking back into the room. Following their gaze, you stiffened further as you found him, sure to be the only thing that you would focus on for the rest of the night. Especially if he were to be sitting that way for most of it. You felt like a deer in headlights as you peered over Harrison’s shoulder, eyes trailing over the way his legs were spread wide, his back leaned into the couch, and his head tilted back as he blew out rings of smoke. 

He wore dark jeans and a black knit-long sleeve; underneath the collar, his white t-shirt poked out. His hair was pushed back out of his face, and the curls along his neck and around his ears seemed perfect even in the dark. 

He would be the death of you.

Your mouth was dry, and suddenly, your fresh sarcasm was gone as he sat up against the couch, his stare almost splitting through the room to find the three of you. His expression was unreadable, almost cold, and you hated the way they found yours immediately.  

You looked away, aware of the way the other two were intently making notes about the interaction. Side-stepping into the kitchen out of eye-sight from the roommate, you glared back at Harrison, “I hate you.” 

“Nah, you don’t.” 

“I thought you said you were going to make me a shot when I got here.” 

“What do you want?” Harrison asked, his arms dropping around Iris, instead allowing his hand to find a place along her back, guiding her to follow him into the kitchen. 

“The strongest thing you got,” you suggested peering up at the masses of liquor upon the cabinets, a devilish look appearing in your eyes as you smiled innocently back at the man. 

He sighed that familiar Harrison sigh, the one where he knew there would be no stopping you that night, not as you came over with a box full of seltzers and a large handle of tequila. You were looking for trouble or perhaps something to ease the noise into nothing but silence within your mind. Either way, he couldn’t tell, and though Iris was looking at him, almost afraid to let him give you the shot that would start a very long night, she just shrugged anyway. 

A long night it would become. 

By the time it was eleven-thirty, the apartment was full of many familiar faces, the typicals you saw at almost every party, and then masses of the very unfamiliar. Some of them including Harrison’s very cute and very athletically-built soccer teammates. It had become your mission to catch at least one of their eyes quickly as if to avoid the looming stare from across the room that you were sure would have you dripping humiliatingly if you focused on him too long. 

When he moved, you did too. Further away, it seemed, anything to keep your distance, almost afraid of what you could say if given the chance to. The alcohol wasn’t enough because just knowing he was in the same apartment had you unable to think about anything or anyone else. Even when you were four seltzers deep and a quarter of the way through with the concoction that had become of your water bottle, Anakin Skywalker was all you could think about. 

It had been hours, hours of dancing awkwardly, avoiding the cards table, and yet you felt unaccomplished with the night. The ache between your legs was enough proof as it was, but you knew that couldn’t be taken care of by anyone unless it was Anakin. Even as the lanky soccer player with fluffy brown hair and bright eyes practically had you concealed against the wall in the living room, your mind was completely inept at what he was saying. 

He was hot, relatively, nothing like Anakin, but enough that you would have slept with him. His hands were ghosting over your waist, one tickling the bare skin above your jeans, the other leaning against the wall, caging you in against his warm frame. His eyes were hooded, a look in them you knew all too well, but one you were sure you wouldn’t act on. 

“You know, Harrison warned me about you,” he joked, it sounding so deep that his name somehow slipped from your mind, unable to be retrieved. 

Your lips were wrapped around the straw of your drink, eyes peering up at his through your lashes, and you couldn’t help but smile, almost like a tantalizing forbidden fruit. “Really? Is that so? And do you think you should have listened to him?” 

“No, not at all. That’s the funny part, I guess. Told me you would probably have your pick of us for the night.” 

Your smile lessened slightly as a discomfort appeared front and center within your chest. You flirted. That wasn’t something you would deny, but the way he was putting it made you feel like you were other girls that they talked to. Ready to offer themselves like a consolation prize by spreading their legs just to never be spoken to again. You flirted, but you never really gave them what they wanted, and that’s why Harrison was cautious about bringing new guys around. They would chase after something they’d never get, and you would string them along as a form of entertainment. Or that’s what he thought. 

It never had been like that, not even as guys started to notice you freshman year of college. It was never supposed to be a game but rather something else entirely. 

You shifted back towards the wall, eyes dropping to your cup, the way it was nearly empty, the last few drops clinging to the bottom of the glass. The guy spoke again, and you found your brows furrowing in discomfort. “I’m just glad it was me if I’m being honest.”

They always thought that way. That it was them. That they were something special, as if worthy of your attention, but it never was about them. 

You sighed, head falling back against the wall as his hand rose along your bare skin, almost inching to move up and under your shirt. A second of dissociation left you looking over his shoulder at the crowd of people around you, filling the living room to be full and packed. You scanned their faces trying to find anything that you knew could ground you. 

Instead, there was only one thing, one person, and it made it all so much worse. 

Peering through the room within the darkness of flashing vibrant lights and smoke, you somehow found him, only a few feet away or so. At the sight, it was almost like your legs were going to give out from beneath you. He would never not have an effect on you. It didn’t matter how stupid you felt, how humiliating it was. Inevitably, Anakin Skywalker would always have you wrapped around his finger. 

He was leaning against the wall near the sound system, surrounded by Harrison and a few of their other guy friends. His arms were crossed over his chest, arms bulging slightly under the material of his shirt. Smoke billowed around the group from cigarettes, vapes, and joints alike, yet his hands were empty. He wasn’t listening to anything they were saying. He couldn’t have been because, just as quickly as you found him, he was already peering over at you. 

His blue eyes, almost as sharp as steel as they traced your frame, pressed up against the wall under the soccer player, your drink cradled close to your chest. You almost physically shuddered, having not expected it, not in the slightest. His lips were pulled into a fine line, brows slightly furrowed in a way that made you want to ease the small wrinkle, pulling every frustration clean from his body. 

Yet you felt intimidated because, after all, it was a look that was directed at you. One that often wasn’t. 

His expression barely flickered or faltered, even as your eyes so clearly locked with his. Instead, he could only lift a single brow in your direction in interest. It was like a challenge, almost as if he was daring you to do something you would regret, something he wouldn’t like. 

“Hey,” the guy’s voice broke through your facade, a gentle mumble as his hand squeezed your hip. The feeling brought your eyes to flicker back to him but only for a second before you were glancing back at Anakin. “Are you listening?” 

You weren’t. Instead too distracted by the man across the room, whose jaw had suddenly tightened. 

“I… uh, need to get another drink,” you forced a smile, voice gentle as you gestured to the empty cup. 

“Do you want me to get it?” he asked then, yelling over the music, and you hated the way it made you feel. 

“No, that’s okay. I’ll be right back,” you replied, almost like a false promise, as you slipped under his arm, separating his frame from yours completely, and with it, a weight seemed to dissipate. The ability to breathe suddenly a grace you didn’t know you were missing. 

It was like you could feel his eyes following your frame. The coldness that was his blue orbs as you swerved your way through the crowd of people, bumping into them as you went, recognizing very few. Iris had been gone from your side for almost an hour, somehow slipping away with Harrison’s cousin to talk about probably Harrison. You had been left to fend for yourself, which was nothing new. Something you had done the whole semester prior, and yet it was the first time, you couldn’t stand the thought. 

Even as the alcohol had left you swaying, vision slightly blurred, and mind a slurring mess, there wasn’t much comfort in the feeling. You managed to squeeze you were way to the kitchen, the music enough to have your ears echoing. Sighing, you found only a few people littered throughout, mixing new drinks or leaning against the countertops to speak too closely. It would be too good to be true to find it empty.

Slipping into the kitchen, which seemed nearly as dark as the rest of the apartment, you found the corner of the countertop where you had been taking alcohol from all night. Harrison had been kind enough to offer you something better than what you had mixed, and it had become the thing you began to drink as soon as your seltzers were long since chugged. Reaching for the liquor bottle, you uncapped it and began to pour, heavier than you had been before. Mixing the remainder of the lemonade in, you picked it up, already reading for the strong sip. 

“How many of those have you had?” 

The voice was low but loud as it spoke over the music. Scaring you, you turned around on your heels quickly, the drink nearly spilling all over you if it wasn’t for his hand that came to grasp the cup, part of his palm covering your own. It was warm. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, the only vocal response to how close he was and all of a sudden. 

“Careful,” Anakin chuckled, taking the drink from your hand, to which you pouted in dismay, hating how he pulled it closer to himself. 

You stared, expression wary as he towered over you, closer than he ever had before, his eyes tracing the startled look as if he were the predator cornering his prey. His stare flickered following the way your chest rose and fell, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you stared up at him, eyes slightly glassed over from the amount of alcohol you had. 

God, you hated him. You really did as he stared down at you, smirking the way he was, only a few inches away. If you leaned closer, your chest would press against his, and at the thought, you had to squeeze your legs shut, trying to keep as much space between the two of you as you pressed yourself back against the countertop. 

A glint appeared as he noticed the way you shifted with discomfort, something he knew wasn’t a common occurrence with you. Tilting his head innocently, he glanced down at your drink, which now was in his grasp, a teasing tone emitting, “You never answered my question. How many of these have you had?” 

You shrugged, trying to wipe off the look on your face as if you could picture it was anyone else in front of you. “I don’t know. A few.” 

“How many is a few?” he demanded, eyes tracing the way you swayed on your feet, almost like he could know your head was spinning, nearly seeing two of him. 

“You want a number?” you laughed, thinking he was joking. 

His expression never faltered, “Yes.” 

“Three, maybe four, I don’t know.” 

He hummed, almost like he was dissatisfied with the answer. Instead of offering the drink back to you, he brought it closer to himself, that serious look never disappearing. “You should be done for the night.” 

“Really?” you mused, a single brow raising at his tone. 

“Yeah, in fact, I’ll finish this one off for you. Maybe try a water there, Y/L/N,” he said, bringing the cup to his lips, covering where your lipstick stains had been.

He took a sip, and you felt your blood boil out of both annoyance and something else. He wasn’t even touching you, and yet there was more of a reaction out of you than earlier when the soccer player had his hands inching up your shirt. It seemed he knew that too, and it was infuriating. 

“Anakin!” 

“By the way, your flavor of the night is looking for you. I think I saw him over by the bathroom where Iris was waiting. I’m sure he was asking about you.” 

“You know what,” you said then, raising your hands up in the air, an almost look of acceptance on your face as you slipped out from under his frame you hadn’t realized had gotten so close, “Fine.” 

With that, you walked away out of the kitchen, palm empty of your drink and heart heavy by the man who had taken it so easily from you. It was like taking candy from a baby, you almost offered it willingly if it meant getting a few more seconds being pressed close to him, his blue eyes tracing your drunken frame. 

He had gotten you then. He was under your skin, had practically dug himself a hole, and you knew you couldn’t; not willingly go find Harrison’s teammate just to think about someone else all night. How much further could you even go than flirting? You usually wouldn’t, and you definitely couldn’t, not that night, not in that state, not when Anakin Skywalker flashed through your mind on repeat, feeding the worst desires. 

The apartment was hot, still messy, lingering with stenches of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. It was like all of the sweaty bodies were still gathered within their living room when really it was nearly three a.m., most of the lights were turned off, and the only thing that could be seen was Harrison and Iris slightly tangled on the couch. Anakin was slumped over on their second couch, now in a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely off his frame and dark long sleeve. His head lulled to the side as he stared at the TV in front of him, unable to really get comfortable on the couch with the warmth of the room. 

Unable to open the window due to them being almost frozen shut, he sat up, his feet meeting the floor. He wanted to sleep. It was the only thing he could think about; hoping it would be enough to quiet the thoughts along with the twitch of his dick. But he couldn’t, not as he felt the sweat along his eyebrow and the smell that seemed to not dissipate even long after he thought he had gotten used to it. 

“Fuck, it still smells.” 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe open the door, see if it airs out in the hallway,” Harrison said, his words slurring slightly, his eyes narrowing in tiredness. 

Anakin became deadpan then, “The door? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Or not. Whatever.” 

“Well, do we have a fan or something?” Anakin offered, standing from the couch in the darkness, stretching his arms up and over his head, “I had one, but I can’t remember the last time I saw mine or even used it.”

Harrison peered up at his roommate, a shy smile on his face seeming oblivious or rather uncaring of the problem at hand, too focused on the feeling of Iris’ head resting along his collarbone. It was then the girl perked up, her eyes shifting away from the TV and the creepy murder documentary she had recommended. 

Her blonde hair peeked up from the couch, and she chuckled lightly at the realization, “That’s because we have it.” 

“What do you mean we?” Anakin replied, brows raising slightly in interest. 

“Y/N and I…” she said carefully, “Harrison let us borrow it at the beginning of the semester when our AC system gave out. I’m pretty sure we forgot to give it back. It’s in our linen closet.” 

He stared down at her, somehow at a loss of what to say or if that meant she was willing to get up and give it to him then or expected him to wait. Before he could decide, she reached the coffee table and picked up her keys before tossing them to Anakin. 

“Here. Take my keys, you can go grab it.” 

Catching them, he stared down at it on the brass key ring, the very key that led to your apartment. An apartment you very much could have been in fucking around with one of the new guys’ Harrison had introduced you to. Anakin’s hand tightened around the keyset at the thought, a certain discomfort appearing at even the picture he could conjure up. The guy had been practically all over you all night, and you hadn’t done anything to reject his advances. Instead, you let them happen all while a set of eyes were staring at you from across the room. 

“I… uh.” 

“Relax,” she laughed, “Y/N said she was going to shower and go to bed. You’re not going to run into any naked soccer players fleeing from her bedroom.” 

“Funny,” Anakin glared, a fake smile appearing as he noticed the familiar glint that had appeared on his roommate’s face. Not ready for the constant teasing, he stepped out of the living room towards the front door. 

Walking out, he barely processed the sound of the door closing behind him, too focused on the key in his hand. It took less than a minute when he came face to face with the dark door. Tall with gold brass located in the middle displaying just how it differed from all the rest — what it meant. The numbers he thought about more often than he should. 

802. 

Fuck. He thought about it too much, so much so it felt easy to let the key slide into the hole and unlock the door with a mere turn of his wrist. Stepping through the threshold, the first thing he noticed was how refreshing it felt compared to the smell of his apartment. It was cooler in there, with a smell of almost clean laundry and vanilla. He couldn’t help but wonder if the whole apartment smelled that way or if somehow your room was different. 

The floors matched the ones in his dark paneling that showed all of the dirt that fell on them. There were a few entrance rugs he couldn’t see much in the dark, as well as the entrance to the kitchen. He wanted to look around, turn on a light to take it all in, but he couldn’t, not with you only a few doors away, possibly naked and in the shower. He felt so gross about it, that he cared so much. 

Especially as your underwear sat in the top drawer of his dresser. He had been contemplating about it all night, just how he could bring it up or return it to you. But he wasn’t sure the best approach without it coming off as disgusting. If he told Iris, she would never look at him the same, probably confused why he had them at all. Harrison would only make jokes, almost applauding Anakin, just to take Iris’ side when he tried to pass them off to her. And you, he couldn’t even think about what your reaction might look like upon finding out that he had your underwear, had them all day. 

Moving further into the apartment, he entered the vast hallway just as Iris had explained, eyes locating in the dark the few doorways that appeared. With his flashlight on, he was able to find it halfway down the hall on the left. Just as he opened the door, though, he took notice of the dim light a door down, a purple hue peeking out from it that was left cracked open. With the familiar sound of The Weekend, Anakin smirked as he picked his way through the linen closet. 

There on the top shelf was his fan. 

Grabbing it, he shut the linen closet, but halted in front of the door, a new sound grabbing his attention. A breathy sigh, almost like a huff of frustration. His shoulders stiffened slightly, stomach tightening at the sound alone. As another noise slipped, but much louder paired with the gentle lull of a vibration, Anakin knew for sure. Knew that you were getting yourself off, and he couldn’t ignore just how pretty it sounded. 

It was too much, so he stepped away from your door towards the other end of the hallway, but he had only made it two steps before he felt himself stop. 

“Ani…” The whimper was not quiet, and he felt his jaw tighten at the way the syllables formed on your lips. 

The sounds were louder, your moan breathtaking. 

Anakin’s hand cupped his dick, your voice going straight to it. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but they snapped back open as another one echoed out from your room, this one a little more desperate. 

“Oh, Anakin.” 

He didn’t know how he didn’t drop that fucking fan. Wasn’t sure if it would slip through his fingers or if he would throw it on purpose, anything to make his presence known. Anything to make the sounds continue but due to his fingers rather than your own. He had never felt such pain then at that moment as he forced himself to walk away, the sounds of you undoing yourself deliberately with his name breaking apart across your tongue. 

There wasn’t a doubt then anymore. Not a single ounce of question. 

It seemed that was enough to know. Enough to have figured out just exactly what to do with the red lacy underwear that sat tucked into the top drawer of his dresser.

“No, fuck, where is it?”

The sound of your voice grumbling from your room droned out into the hallway. Your hands were shoved into the bottom of your dresser drawer, rummaging through the clean laundry you had folded the day before. The sole piece of clothing you were looking for was nowhere in sight. As soon as you hadn’t found it near the top when you had started getting ready for your date, you felt your chest tighten. You groaned loudly, arms balancing along your knees as you moved to find it not hidden somewhere in your laundry basket either. 

“Y/N/N, I’m going to head to work,” Iris poked her head inside, but her voice trailed off at the sight of you crouched in the middle of the room, tearing apart your dresser drawers. “What are you doing?” 

“I can’t find them,” you mumbled out. 

“Find what?” 

You sighed, almost hesitant to even say it out loud, “My panties. The red ones.” 

“The ones with lace?” she asked, for clarification, her brows raising in interest. 

“Yes, I washed them yesterday, I swear.”

“Don’t you have your date tonight?” she asked, eyes looking around the room, spotting the few outfits you had laid out across your bed and the mounds of makeup and hair products spread out at your vanity. “The one with Harrison’s teammate?” 

“Yeah, Cole.” 

At the name, a flash of recognition formed across Iris’ face. It was the same guy you had been with most of the night before at the party, practically pressed up against a wall as he eye fucked you for most of the night. By the end of it, you were so drunk he hadn’t even gotten a kiss out of you, only your number. He texted you that morning about going out for drinks and dinner. You were hesitant at first, almost inclined to say no, but then something else made you change your mind. Perhaps the sight from the night before of the smirk that laced over Anakin’s face as he teased you about Cole. No inclination at all that it bothered him, the sight of you pressed up against someone else. It was annoying, so annoying, that you couldn’t help but say yes to Cole for a date. 

What else were you going to do? 

Anakin Skywalker barely spoke to you and noticed your presence. It was a joke. All of it. 

Iris smiled smugly, then down at you as you continued to search through the dresser drawer. “And you need your red lacy panties for a first date?” 

“I mean, I don’t need them, just want them, you know, in case.” 

“Who are you right now?” she laughed, the sound bringing your attention away from your underwear drawer. Her arms were crossed over her chest, that smile still evident as a hint of amusement flashed across her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t usually think about sleeping with a guy until at least the fourth or fifth date. The last time you were talking to someone, you made him hold out for the sixth date just to ask him to leave after twenty minutes of making out. And you want to wear your sex underwear on the first date?”

“I’m not a prude, you know,” you laughed too, your anxiety easing slightly even though your favorite underwear was still missing. 

“I never said you were. I’m just saying, you’re different. That’s all.” 

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

She shook her head, almost a sense of pride appearing, “No. Not at all. Anyway, I should go.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you replied over your shoulder, your attention going back to the clothes scattered around you. 

“Yeah, have fun on your date. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. Oh, and maybe try looking in the laundry room.” 

You cringed almost at the thought that they had somehow been left in there overnight, all while other people were coming in and out to do their laundry, “Right.”

Standing from your bedroom floor, you looked around the room one more time before inevitably giving up. Instead, you slid on a pair of shoes, and left the apartment, the door closing and echoing behind you. Making your way down the hall, you passed the guys’ door and the memories from the night before flashed again in your head. Anakin taking your drink, cutting you off from anything for the rest of the night. You wish you wouldn’t have listened and continued to sneak some. You didn’t have to listen to him at all. That was the funniest part, and you did it anyway. 

Entering the laundry room, the automatic lights clicked on upon your entrance illuminating the room in cascades of bright LEDs. It was warm, just like it usually was when someone was doing their laundry. The familiar rumble of the dryer and washers caught your attention. The sound of it clouded your thoughts as you approached the washer and dryer you had been using the day before. 

With one simple open of the stainless steel washer, you found it empty of any sort of clothing. You sighed, the annoyance deepening at the thought of having lost them. Expensive underwear you had bought on your trip to France over the summer. A pair Iris had to convince you to buy because you typically weren’t one for buying sexy underwear. It was the pair that opened the vault for you, leading you to not only buy so many more since then but a string of memories confined to that pair of lace, all from the few pairs of hands that had slid them down your legs with ease late into the night. 

It was your favorite pair of underwear. 

The only pair you felt like wearing on nights when you knew inevitably they would end up on someone’s floor. 

“Fuck,” you cursed again lowly as you stepped over to the dryer you had used. 

Sure enough, as you opened and closed it, you found it just as empty as the other machine you had checked. Your stomach dropped at the thought, and it had come to desperate measures as you crouched down near the machines and began looking around them on the floor. 

It was not your proudest moment, and that only became clear as it only lasted around thirty seconds when you heard the door open, paired with a voice you were dreading to have to face anytime soon. 

“What are you doing?” 

Your eyes closed, your breath falling short in your throat. Sighing, you stood from where you were crouched along the floor, surely giving him a show in the shorts you had been wearing since your shower that afternoon. You wouldn’t turn to face him, not if it meant seeing some sort of teasing look appear. It was embarrassing enough. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to the dryer, peering over the back of it, hoping just maybe the red lace would appear behind it. 

“I am looking for something.” 

Anakin chuckled, subtly tracing the curve of your ass through your pajama shorts, his fingers curling around the silky material in his pocket. “What?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Well, maybe if you told me, I could help,” he offered, and at that, you froze. 

Turning around slowly, you faced him, heart picking up at the sight of him alone. He looked just as fine as he had the night before, maybe even a little bit more. He wore jeans, ones that were loose around his frame, paired with a hoodie, hiding away the definition of his torso you craved to see after so long. His hair was slightly damp, leaving a ringlet curl along his forehead. It was slightly shorter, too, the back especially, meaning he had gotten a haircut. You had thought you would be sad when he had finally done it, cut the small curls that lay along the back of his neck, but now that he had, you couldn’t help but stare, knees practically giving out at how good he truly looked. 

Sure enough, that smirk was plastered along his face, paired with a glint you knew all too well. 

“Help? You want to help me?” 

He shrugged, “It could maybe make it go faster. You look like you need to be somewhere.” 

It was the most he had ever said to you. The last two days had crossed every line that had been between the two of you over the past four months of knowing one another. This was it. The past two days of his intimidating stares and forceful words.

Placing your hands on your hips, you raised a brow over at him interest, “And why would you think that?” 

He stepped closer, and that alone had your chest rattling and hands practically shaking. He was so tall, so breathtaking, and you had wanted him for so long, so badly, it had consumed you. Just the sight of him as he stood before you, looming over your frame, had your core twitching, aching already, and he hadn’t even touched you. There was the reality that he probably wouldn’t. 

His tongue clicked along the roof of his mouth, his blue orbs falling to trace over your bare legs, freshly tanned, smooth, up to the short baby tee that hugged your frame; no bra. You looked as if you were ready to settle in for the night, but he knew better. 

“You did your makeup,” he said, observingly, “And you look as if you put something in your hair. Maybe, styled it for someone. You got a hot date or something?” 

Your mouth was dry, and you had to look away, guilt appearing that you would be with another man that night, all while you would probably be thinking about him. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

“So, that’s a yes,” he chuckled, the deep sound making your legs clench slightly. “Harrison’s teammate from last night? I could see him asking you out just to get in your pants.” 

“Stop,” you fumed, brows furrowing in annoyance, arms crossing over your chest, “Why does it matter?” 

“It doesn’t. So, what are we looking for Y/L/N? What’s going to make you late for this dick appointment?” 

“You know what. Forget it. I can find it myself.” 

“No, no, come on, now. I’m just trying to be helpful,” he smiled, that smirk widening, almost getting off at the sight of your pout and knitted brows. “Seems like you might need it? So, what a top? A bra, maybe, something he’ll want to pull off of you later.” 

“Anakin,” you warned as he took a step closer, his head tilting antagonizingly, taking in how your chest rose and fell nervously. There was still a foot or so between you and yet you couldn’t help but step back until you were up against the dryer, the warmth of it felt through your shorts. 

“Or is it not either of those things? No. Can’t be,” he paused, voice trailing off as his stare flickered down to your lips, “Underwear?” 

Your lips parted in shock, stomach turning at the way it sounded like he was trying to torture you with his presence. 

“So that’s it? Panties, huh? Must be some nice fucking ones if they have you bent over in the laundry room looking for them. What do they look like? I’m sure I can find them.” 

You couldn’t form words, not as he taunted you, even from so far away. Not as his hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants, the most casual look about him. He alluded to sex just from how he looked, and that was hard enough, but him standing in front of you, lips glistening from his saliva, spouting these things at you, they might as well have been the dirtiest things a guy has ever said. They had you wet. You knew they did, and it had you shrinking in humiliation. Humiliation that he could say your name alone, and it would have you so pent up to the point of reaching for that familiar blue vibrator on your bedside table, desperately trying to relieve the tension he built up inside of you. 

Inhaling, you tried to relax. “They’re lace.” 

“Okay. See-through?” he asked, unable to say it with a straight face. 

“Yes.” The word was so quiet coming from your lips, almost like a whisper. 

The tip of his tongue traced over the top set of his teeth, highlighting his cuspids you wanted more than anything to bite into your neck. All while his hand dug between your legs. The thought fell away though at his next words, them enough to have your heart stop altogether. 

“They wouldn’t be red by chance, are they?” 

Your mouth fell open in shock, and for a second, you thought he was going to take hold of your lower lip to close it, anything to touch you, but he didn’t. Why would he? With widened eyes and that knitted expression forming once again across your face, you were silent as you watched his hand appear from his pocket, that all too familiar red color appearing before your eyes. 

“Or something like these, right?” he held them out on his index finger, the expensive material from France staring back at you, “Fuck, I didn’t expect it, Y/L/N. That you could own a pair like this.” 

Your face felt warm, annoyed, and embarrassed by his taunt. Enough that you reached forward to pluck them from his hand, but he pulled his hand back further to keep you from taking hold of them. 

“Anakin,” you warned, hand out stretched. 

“You know, you should pay closer attention when you do your laundry. Some creep in the building could have picked them up instead of me. Who knows what would have happened to them then.” 

It was like he could see the steam coming out of your ears, the heat on your face that he somehow could see even past your makeup. He was frustrating you, and he could do it all day, every day, he decided. 

“Give them to me.” 

“Or what?” he quipped, “Tell me why I should? Just so some guy can take them off of you later. Some guy you don’t even want to fuck you.” 

“Stop this,” you whispered, it almost sounding like a plea as you tried to reach for the underwear again, but as you did, he pulled his hand away. This time, going as far as to stuff them into the back pocket of his jeans. You groaned in annoyance at the sight. “You’re being an asshole.” 

“And you’re a fucking liar,” he taunted, stepping closer again. This time until he was no more than a few inches away. Your body was fully pressed against the dryer then, it hot along the skin on the back of your thighs. “So admit it.” 

“Admit what?” 

He leaned closer, his lips nearly tracing the shell of your ear, all while his hands moved up, fingers brushing across your bare ribs so softly it hadn’t felt real. They slipped away, instead pressing along the dryer behind you that was still running. He had you caged in, his chest warm against yours. 

“That you want this. That you want me.” 

A breathy sigh fell away, your lips practically trembling as all of the hair on your body seemed to stand straight up. 

He continued, “You say I’m the asshole but you’re the one who walks around doing your laundry in nothing but a skimpy shirt. You fucking want me to see you like that, don’t you? Like this? You want to tempt me. But that’s the thing isn’t it? You only act like a whore if it means getting my attention. Isn’t that right?” 

“Anakin…” his name almost sounding like a moan as it slipped, body leaning further into his involuntarily. 

“Say it, Y/N. Fucking say it, and I’m yours.” 

You sighed, the most hopeless sound because he had you. He always did. How was it happening? You weren’t sure, but it was all that mattered. “Fine, I want you.” 

He smiled a grin that was so full of himself as he reached forward, his hand gripping your jaw so firmly in his hand. It happened so quick, then, the feeling of him pulling you forward. It was almost like you could have gotten whiplash as his lips consumed you, enveloping you in what could only be described as pure sin. Without a moment to even feel them on yours, his tongue was parting your lips, slipping in without you giving much of a fight. A moan was ripped free from your throat as he branded you over and over, his taste coated along your tongue, faintly tasting of mint gum and cigarettes. 

Somehow it wasn’t anything you thought it would be like. It was better, intangible, unable to fully grasp until it was happening, leaving you to spin, to drip with need, and in a way, begging for penance. His body collided with yours, his other hand roughly grabbing your hip, slamming you further into the dryer, the vibration of it catching your attention as he did so. As his knee parted your legs, you twitched, the feeling of his clothed knee too much as he pressed it up against your core. 

Gasping, your hands shot forward, pushing at his chest. It was enough for his lips to part from yours, with a string of his saliva pooling around the corners of your lips. “Wait, not here.” 

You looked around the empty laundry room, suddenly awfully aware of the possibility for anyone to walk in. Especially those who had their laundry going in the machines. 

He chuckled, the sound making your legs clench again, but this time around, his knee stood in the way. He smirked at the sight, his voice lowering, “Yes, here.” 

You couldn’t deny how it had made you feel, the dominance doing something to you. So much so that you relaxed under his hooded eyes, giving in once again. It was enough of an answer for him as he immediately went to your cotton shorts, yanking them down from your hips. The material loosened and pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but the black pair of soft panties you had slipped on after your shower. 

“Not red,” he chuckled, hands ghosting along your ribs, thumbs tempting to brush along your nipples through the material of your shirt, “But fuck are they still pretty.” 

His knee pressed up further against the material, the thin material that was soaked to the point that he was risking having a stain left when he pulled it away. You whimpered at the feeling, desperate for any relief you hadn’t been able to get since you laid eyes on him for the first time. You couldn’t help but sink down on him, the feeling sending a shock through your core and another sound to fall from your blissfully kissed lips. 

He took in the sight, not caring who saw. Not if it meant he had his claim on you, that everyone knew. That they all were aware of how fucking obsessed you were, with him, his cock, that you would be willing to get caught. With lidded eyes just as desperate for you as you were for him, he let his fingers trace down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he found the waistband of your underwear. Your chest tightened again in anticipation, as his fingers slid down further until they were pressed along the front of it, able to feel the wetness that had soaked all the way through. 

His ego was huge at that point, almost feeling accomplished by his handy work. His thumb found the bundle of nerves with ease as if this hadn’t been his first time with you, but rather had memorized your body, knew just how exactly to get you to come undone. Pressing down, he bit down on his bottom lip, watching as your head lulled back, a desperate sound-emitting. 

He couldn’t take it then, and neither could you. When he pulled away, you gasped in protest, ready to glare at him, but that inclination disappeared as he reached for the button of his jeans. You were practically drooling as it popped, followed by the sound of the zipper being yanked down. Your chest was rising and falling, so much anticipation forming along your skin in the form of sweat, the spot between your legs throbbing to the point of it almost being painful. 

You were ready to beg. If he wasted any more time, you would. You didn’t care how desperate and defiling it felt then because if it were any other man, you wouldn’t, but for him, you would. You would over and over if it meant it would lead to this. Your breath hitched as he reached for the waistline of his boxers, sliding them down just enough to release his dick from the confines of the material. 

Fuck, even his dick was perfect. 

The sight of it had you nearly collapsing, completely acting like an idiot just at the sight. Who knew all it took was one cock to have you completely silent, lost for words. It had never happened, never thought it could, until him. It was the way it erected out, almost touching the material of his hoodie, red, already slick with precum. A world where he wanted you back seemed so implausible, and yet the sight of that alone could have had you cumming on the spot. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, wrapping one of his hands around the base of it, he hissed slightly at the contact. 

“Anakin, fuck just, please,” you whimpered further, and you hated how it sounded across your tongue, but that thought disappeared quickly as he moved closer. 

With one hand pushing your underwear to the side, the other aided his dick in sliding in between your folds. It was only the tip, and yet at the feeling, you were a mess. A mess of chewing on your lower lip, just desperately wishing for this feeling to never end. If you could have this for the rest of your life every day, you would. The feeling of him over and over again would be a mantra you would strive for if it always felt like this. 

Your walls were tight around him, and both being so impatient, he thrust forward, bottoming out quickly. A small noise fell from your lips at the feeling of his tip colliding deeply inside, your walls tightening, sucking him in perfectly. 

“Ah, fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice enough to make you clench again, stomach fluttering as his forehead softly met yours. 

There was a second, a brief moment where neither of you moved. It was only heavy breathing accompanied by the sounds of the dryers, and you knew it was equally the nastiest but most perfect moment of your life. Then with his lips collapsing on yours once again, he began to move. Pulling out, he trusted back in, rocking his hips against yours. He swore under his breath, dick twitching though he had barely even started. With his lips claiming yours over and over, his hand trailed up along the side of your leg, taking hold of your knee to hike it up along his waist. At the new feeling, the stretch, paired with his dick still prodding, you moaned, the sound loud, louder than you anticipated it to be. 

He laughed, the sound vibrating against your chest. It only got worse as his other hand slipped down in between your bodies locating your clit with ease through your underwear. Pulling out all the way, he shoved himself all the way back in, eliciting sounds you didn’t know you could even derive. Your body arched into his, legs already like jelly as his thumb circled the bundle of nerves slowly, almost too slowly. The feeling of the soft fabric of the underwear only added more friction and you were spiraling at how quickly your pussy tightened around his length. 

He grunted, a string of curse words slipping as he harshly pinned your body back against the dryer, the vibration of the machine only heightening it all further. You wouldn’t last long, you knew that, practically able to hear your heart in your ears, stomach clenching with that familiar knot. Your hands reached out to grip his shoulders, the material of his hoodie curling under your fingers as you held onto him so tightly as if you were trying to mold the two of your bodies into one. 

Moving so quickly at that point, he was reaching that very spot inside you couldn’t do yourself, and it had your head spinning, chest rising and falling, as you desperately craved the high more than even drugs or alcohol. 

“Say my name, baby,” he pleaded then, sounding so whiny as his blue eyes met yours. “Come on. Say it. Say it like you do when you’re laying in bed, hand going to fucking work in between your legs.” 

Sweat gathered along his brow, while the tops of his cheeks were staining red. The sound of the pet name had you almost crying, leg tightening around his waist, as every part of your body seemed lit on fire. 

“Anakin,” you moaned softly. 

“No,” he demanded glaring down at you, “Not like that.” 

He began to speed up his assault on your clit, and you could barely stand at that point, body almost leaning completely back on the dryer. That was enough to get what he wanted as his name began to spill from your mouth louder than it ever had before. 

He swore again, his grunts filling your ears as his palm tightened around your hip. He was moving so quickly, sliding in and out, you could feel your wetness dripping down your inner thighs, the sounds so loud in your ears. His thumb never faltered or stopped as he pulled all the way out and then back in, wanting you to take him in inch by inch. Before you had even realized it, your walls were tightening around him, your stomach clenched, eyes squeezed shut like you were chasing stars. 

That feeling snapped, a lull, and you were a moaning mess as you held onto him, knowing you couldn’t stand on your own. Fingers digging deeply into his shoulders, body relaxing slightly while the orgasm washed over you, he didn’t dare stop. Anakin only pulled out to slam back into you, the flutter of your walls pulling him in over and over again. Chasing his high so desperately, it didn’t take long, until he was stilling completely, cumming inside of you. 

You hadn’t let anyone else do that, but for him, it was a privilege. It was almost like your pussy was promised for him and him alone. His forehead fell down against yours, body relaxing into yours for a moment, only a few seconds, not long enough as your walls pulsed around him, now soft inside of you. He pulled out with ease, the loss of him and the cool air startling you to clamp your legs shut. 

He stuffed himself back into his pants and looked down at you almost proudly, your fucked out gaze enough to have him wanting to take you back to his apartment and keep it going all night long, but you had places to be instead. Smirking, his eyes fell down to your lower half, and he couldn’t resist then. Fingers finding the sides of your underwear, they hooked around them before pulling them down your frame and to your ankles. Though confused, you followed, stepping out of them. 

At the loss of them, you could feel the mixed wetness pooling out of you and down the inside of your legs, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Proud of his handiwork, Anakin reached behind him in his back pocket and took out the red lacy underwear. He held them out in his hands, stretching them as he demanded softly, “Step in.” 

Listening, you stepped into the underwear, the clean red lacy underwear that had started all of this. Then tantalizing as if he wanted to torture you further, he pulled them up your legs slowly, agonizingly slow, and then up and over your butt until they sat comfortably along your hips, surely soaking in what the two of you had done.

Leaning forward, he left a lingering peck on your hip bone, and you sighed at the feeling. He slid your shorts back on next before standing and as he did, you could still feel the flush in your cheeks, reality catching up to you. 

Having exchanged the red underwear for the black ones you wore, he shoved the dirty ones into his back pocket. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think straight, as your heart seemed to be beating out of your chest. With that smirk, that glint on his goddamn face, he reached forward, thumb pulling your bottom lip free before letting it snap back into place. 

“I expect those panties of yours to remain where they are your whole date, got it? And tell Cole ‘hi’ for me, will you?” 

There was one thing for sure, Anakin Skywalker despised you, or not anymore, at least because, after all, he got the one thing he had been dying of thirst for. He would make sure you never ignored him again, even if it was when you were doing your damn laundry. 

[nicklloydnow]

“May I be permitted to say a few words? I am an Edinburgh graduate (MA 1975) who studied Persian, Arabic & Islamic History under William Montgomery Watt & Laurence Elwell Sutton, 2 of Britain ‘s great Middle East experts. I later went on to do a PhD at Cambridge & to teach Arabic & Islamic Studies at Newcastle University . Naturally, I am the author of several books & 100s of articles in this field.

I say all that to show that I am well informed in Middle Eastern affairs & that, for that reason, I am shocked & disheartened for a simple reason: there is not & has never been a system of apartheid in Israel. That is not my opinion, that is fact that can be tested against reality should anyone choose to visit Israel.

Let me spell this out, since I have the impression that many students are absolutely clueless in matters concerning Israel, & that they are, in all likelihood, the victims of extremely biased propaganda coming from the anti-Israel lobby.

Hating Israel

Being anti-Israel is not in itself objectionable. But I’m not talking about ordinary criticism of Israel . I’m speaking of a hatred that permits itself no boundaries in the lies & myths it pours out. Thus, Israel is repeatedly referred to as a “Nazi” state. In what sense is this true, even as a metaphor? Where are the Israeli concentration camps? The einzatsgruppen? The SS? The Nuremberg Laws?

None of these things nor anything remotely resembling them exists in Israel, precisely because the Jews, more than anyone on earth, understand what Nazism stood for. It is claimed that there has been an Israeli Holocaust in Gaza (or elsewhere). Where? When?

No honest historian would treat that claim with anything but the contempt. But calling Jews Nazis and saying they have committed a Holocaust is a way to subvert historical fact. Likewise apartheid.

No Apartheid

For apartheid to exist, there would have to be a situation that closely resembled how things were in South Africa under the apartheid regime. Unfortunately for those who believe this, a day in any part of Israel would be enough to show how ridiculous this is.

The most obvious focus for apartheid would be the country’s 20% Arab population. Under Israeli law, Arab Israelis have exactly the same rights as Jews or anyone else; Muslims have the same rights as Jews or Christians; Baha’is, severely persecuted in Iran, flourish in Israel, where they have their world center; Ahmadi Muslims, severely persecuted in Pakistan & elsewhere, are kept safe by Israel; or anyone else; the holy places of all religions are protected by Israeli law.

Free Arab Israelis

Arabs form 20% of the university population (an exact echo of their percentage in the general population). In Iran , the Bahai’s (the largest religious minority) are forbidden to study in any university or to run their own universities: why aren’t your members boycotting Iran ?

Arabs in Israel can go anywhere they want, unlike blacks in apartheid South Africa. They use public transport, they eat in restaurants, they go to swimming pools, they use libraries, they go to cinemas alongside Jews — something no blacks were able to do in South Africa.

Israeli hospitals not only treat Jews & Arabs, they also treat Palestinians from Gaza or the West Bank. On the same wards, in the same operating theatres.

Women’s Rights

In Israel, women have the same rights as men: there is no gender apartheid. Gay men & women face no restrictions, and Palestinian gays oftn escape into Israel, knowing they may be killed at home.

It seems bizarre to me that LGBT groups call for a boycott of Israel & say nothing about countries like Iran, where gay men are hanged or stoned to death. That illustrates a mindset that beggars belief.

Intelligent students thinking it’s better to be silent about regimes that kill gay people, but good to condemn the only country in the Middle East that rescues and protects gay people. Is that supposed to be a sick joke?

(…)

I do not object to well-documented criticism of Israel. I do object when supposedly intelligent people single the Jewish state out above states that are horrific in their treatment of their populations.

(…)

Israeli citizens, Jews & Arabs alike, do not rebel (though they are free to protest). Yet Edinburgh students mount no demonstrations & call for no boycotts against Libya , Bahrain , Saudi Arabia , Yemen , & Iran. They prefer to make false accusations against one of the world’s freest countries, the only country in the Middle East that has taken in Darfur refugees, the only country in the ME that gives refuge to gay men & women, the only country in the ME that protects the Bahai’s…. Need I go on?

(…)

Your generation has a duty to ensure that the perennial racism of anti-Semitism never sets down roots among you. Today, however, there are clear signs that it has done so and is putting down more.”

[starlightsuffered]

Brother in Law

Info - brother in law Regulus, innocent reader, inexperienced reader, going to someone for help with horniness, cheating, forbidden sex, dom male, virgin female, unprotected sex, minor breeding kink, fingering, convincing to cum inside raw, arranged marriage, infidelity kink, pet names and praise, sir kink

When I was freshly 18, I’d been arranged into a marriage with Sirius Black. The man was sarcastic, overly jovial, and could be slightly cruel with his “pranks”.

I preferred his younger brother Regulus. Regulus was serious and stoic. I liked how he could be kind in the face of adversity.

However, I also felt odd around Regulus. He made my body do things it had never done. I didn’t know what to make of it. I had always been sheltered, and innocent, but something about Regulus made me want to learn things. I wanted to be more adult around him.

Regulus was engaged to a woman named Aleeda, though it didn’t seem like he was much more pleased than Sirius was with his deal. To my understanding, she was distantly related to the Blacks, as many pure bloods were. She seemed a bit air headed though, all she did was laugh. She didn’t seem to have real opinions and ideas.

One night when Orion and Walburga were gone, Sirius had gotten out the fire whiskey. We’d all been taking shots in the spirit of “getting to know one another better.”

“I dare you,” Sirius had drawled. “To sit on Reggie’s lap.”

I had gotten so heated I felt faint. I was under no conviction that Sirius liked me. Still, I couldn’t imagine why he’d dare me to do this for our game. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but the way Regulus glared at his brother disturbed me. Perhaps, Regulus hated me.

I had stood up as stiffly as I could. I made my way to Regulus. Aleeda just giggled as I sat down. I wiggled a bit to get comfortable. I heard his breath hitch and something grew hard against my bum. I didn’t know what was happening as Regulus became red face and wrapped his arms around me. Once in a while I felt a jerky movement from the man beneath me. It almost felt like a thrust, and the thing would be harder.

I was thinking about that tonight as I laid awake. My whole body felt like it was on fire. I couldn’t sleep. Something in me needed something. I couldn’t completely put my finger on what.

Regulus had once told me if I needed anything I could come to him. I knew he was sleeping with Aleeda. I had insisted that Sirius and I sleep separately until after the wedding. This was why I was alone and desperate in the early morning hours.

I felt too overwhelmed to do anything else. These desires had been building and I supposed tonight was the night they hit a peak. This wasn’t bad of me right?

I tip toed into his bedroom. I wanted to be careful not to wake Aleeda. She was usually a sound sleeper, but I couldn’t take any chances.

“Reg…. Reg,” I tapped him lightly. He groaned and moved towards me in his sleep. His bleary eyes blinked open and when he realised who it was a smile spread across his tired face.

“Hello baby girl, what can I do for you?” He asked in a low whisper.

“You said I could tell you anything right?” I asked hesitantly. This couldn’t be wrong right? He was Regulus. He protected me, and knew what was best always. It made sense to come to him with this problem.

“Of course angel, tell me,” he said, propping himself up. I felt squirmy at his purred words.

“Look,” I said. I lifted my nightgown. I spread the lips of my privates and showed him the bundle of nerves that was swollen and pulsing. I heard him release a string of curses under his breath.

Something changed in him then. His eyes got darker. He looked like he was tensing all over, restraining himself from…. Something? He took his plump bottom lip in his mouth and bit down. He furrowed his brow and looked up at me.

“W-whats the problem?” He gulped.

“It feels funny,” I whined.

“What made it feel that way baby?” He asked in a husky voice.

“Ummmm I was in the bathroom earlier and I just got this urge to smell your shampoo and deodorant. I was thinking about you and then this happened. It has a heart beat and it’s sensitive.”

“Oh baby,” he crooned. I saw something break in his demeanour. He lifted his hand and I could hardly breathe. Two of his large fingers popped out. Slowly, he pushed them into my sopping entrance. I nearly fell over as the feeling overtook me. My eyes rolled back into my skull.

This felt so good. The wet squelching sound as Regulus pumped his fingers in and out and sometimes curled them. I was stuffing a fist in my mouth to keep keening cries from exiting my lips. I didn’t want to wake Aleeda, then this would all stop. His thumb pad pressed down on my bundle and I jolted. I grabbed at his wrist but I didn’t stop him. It was more to steady myself than anything.

“Fat, juicy, cunt,” I heard my betrothed’s brother whisper, licking his lips. “But still so damned tight.”

“R-Reg?” I stuttered.

“Poor baby, does this help?” He asked me.

“Yes, a lot, it feels so good,” I gasped. He was rolling my bud now and my nipples were hard and poking through my nightgown.

There he was, someone who was marrying someone else, milking my entrance in the moonlight; Right next to his sleeping fiancée. I shuddered.

This was wrong right? But no, it couldn’t be, not when I felt so perfectly full. This couldn’t be cheating when it felt like I was made for those fingers. Although some part of me knew Aleeda would be horrified if she woke up and saw this. I just could equate this feeling of euphoria with anything wrong or bad.

“Reg, is, is this bad?” I asked as he still moved. I watched the muscles flexing in his wrist as he pleasured me.

“No princess, it isn’t bad, just-just don’t tell my brother, or Aleeda . This will be our little secret okay? Why don’t you go to your room and I’ll be there shortly.”

I did as he said, pulling off his digits carefully. I felt empty and lonely without him. He immediately sucked his fingers into his eager mouth. He closed his eyes as if tasting ambrosia from Olympus itself.

I left the room to walk the hall. As I walked I thought about how dark his eyes had become. I thought about how wetness was making my inner thighs slick.

I laid in my bed. I cupped my private part, grinding against my hand ever so often. I just felt this insatiable need. I was utterly desperate to release, I just didn’t know how.

Finally, Regulus came into my room. His presence was comforting to my aching core. He came and sat on my bed. His long fingers ran from the exposed valley between my breasts, to the hood of my vagina. I hummed desperately.

“So, you’re feeling weird baby girl?” He asked.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“You’re so bare,” he commented swiping a thumb over my sex.

“I barely have to shave,” I said self consciously.

“Oh that’s so precious baby,” he commented. He leaned down and kissed my southern lips. I felt a gushing and crossed my legs with a small noise.

“You like when I do that huh?” He asked.

“Y-yes,” I nodded vigorously.

“Regulus,” I said after a few moments of him caressing me, running his fingers up and down my body.

“Yes princess,” he crooned. He cupped my face with his large hand.

“Maybe, well maybe you could put it in?” I asked. A smirk unfurled across his face. He took my hand and began to kiss the tip of every finger.

“Put what in sweetheart?” He asked.

“Your, um, well, your c-c-c-“

“Baby, you can say it. I give you permission to use the nasty word,” he allowed.

“Your cock, i-inside my pussy?” I finished pathetically.

“Yeah? You think that would help?” He asked. I saw the bulge in his boxers. I wanted him to take out that thick, hairy, veiny member I’d spied once while he was pissing.

“It isn’t bad Regulus!” I said, bolting up and cupping his face. I searched his eyes for some sign he thought I was a pervert. He didn’t seem ashamed.

“No?”

“No!” I said hastily. You’d just be filling me up so I can relax a little. You don’t even need to move. It wouldn’t even really be sex. Sirius would know it’s okay too. He would want you to do anything you could to help me.”

“I think you’re right, just putting it in can’t hurt,” he said gently.

He pushed me back. He slowly removed my nightgown so I was bare in front of him. I turned my head away blushing. He softly moved my jaw so I was facing him again. He dipped his head and pressed a chaste kiss to both peaked nipples. I squirmed again, I let out a frustrated breath. I needed filled so badly.

He got out his massive length. I felt my wetness increase with the sight. I licked my lips. He put his leaky tip at my needy entrance.

Slowly, slowly, he moved. He pushed inside me. I grabbed his bicep with a whine. The stretch was satisfying but a bit painful.

“Reg!” I cried.

“Princess, am I too big?”

“N-no Reg, I want it, in fact I need it,” I told him.

“Good girl,” he praised me.

“I’m gonna go balls deep okay? Is your pussy okay with that?”

“Yes sir,” I agreed.

He grunted in a way that sounded so lewd as he went as far as he could. His balls rested on my ass, I felt amazingly full. I’d never felt so satisfied in my life. I half expected a bulge to show in stomach he was so big.

“Regulus it feels great,” I admitted.

“That’s my girl, you know I’ll always take care of you,” he promised.

“Ohhhhh,” I whined. I wiggled on his cock, feeling as though I was completely impaled.

“Baby, I’m not going to be so good and nice anymore if you keep moving like that,” He warned.

“I-I can’t help it. I’m so full and my clitty is aching,” I complained.

“Awww baby, I know that’s why cunny needs so much attention from me,” he said sweetly. I melted. I wanted him so bad. I didn’t care if it was wrong or nasty or something Aleeda wouldn’t want. I wanted it, I needed it, if it was the only dream come true I got for the rest of my life I’d take it because I was so wet it was dripping down my own brother in laws dick.

“C-can I swear sir?” I asked sheepishly.

“If you absolutely need to baby,” he said calmly.

“Fuck!” I cried. “Fuck I want you to fucking ram me full. I’m so desperate for you to do nasty things with me.”

There was a long silence. I felt bad. I writhed on his dick again, knowing I’d never be fulfilled until he moved. But I think I’d scared him. The look on his face was dangerous.

Then he started.

He held my hands above my head began to snap into me wildly. He was grunting and groaning as his thick cock was baptised in my slick over and over as he plunged into my wet depths.

“Fucking good little girl for me aren’t you,” he gasped.

“Yes sir,”I whined. “Oh Regulus you feel so good. Oh, oh, oh, I’ve never felt this good. You’re soooo big!”

“That’s it princess, tell me all your nasty feelings. You didn’t just want me to put my cock inside you, you wanted me to fuck you raw. You wanted me to help soothe that ache between your legs.”

He was giving it his all. He was so much bigger than me. He was so long and thick in all the tight places. I was barely holding on to sanity as he snapped his hips. I was making all sorts of submissive and desperate noises. He was fucking squeaks and squeals out of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held onto the hair at the nape of his neck for dear life.

I sounded like I was driving over a bumpy road. “Uh, uh, uh, uh.” It echoed in my pink bedroom. I was nearly choking on pleading whimpers.

“Please, never stop, I’m addicted. I want your dick all the time. I can’t believe we’ve never done this. Oh please. I can’t handle it. This is the best feeling in the world!”

A gorgeous smirk covered his face as he rutted into me with all his might and strength. I was speechless now from how gorgeous he was. He was who I was meant for. I hoped he’d had a hand in choosing who was to be betrothed to his brother. Just to do this. To fuck his bother’s property within an inch of my life.

“That poor cunny needed this huh?” He crooned. “You needed big thick cock to stretch you out. Poor baby, holding her pussy, and touching her clitty with no release. You just let me take care of it all princess. I’ll make you squirt on my cock if it’s the last thing I do.”

“R-Regulus” I hiccuped from the deep thrusts. “W-will Aleeda b-be mad?” I asked as he moved me across the bed with the eagerness of his hips. He placed a hand on top of my head so it didn’t bash against the wall. It didn’t stop him from continuing to absolutely demolish my pussy though.

“We don’t need to tell Aleeda that your brother in law put his cock in your princes parts,” he murmured delicately in my ear.

My eyes rolled back into my head at the words. He stuck his thumb in my mouth and I sucked for all it was worth. I imagined it was his cock and I was a content baby girl being fed the dick I loved so much. I didn’t think I’d ever want another. This was perfection.

“You love my cock don’t you baby girl? You want it so bad, and from your own brother in law,” he whispered to me.

“Oh damn, you treat your baby girl so well. Please tell me you wanted this, please tell me you like my pussy,” I whined. I was so needy for his approval.

“Yes baby, I want you like crazy. I wanted to stretch your little baby girl cunt out every time I went inside Aleeda . I couldn’t get hard for her. All I think about is my precious little sister in law.”

“Oh Reg, Reg, Reg, can I eat your cum every morning? I wanna guzzle it down. Please let your princess have your cum I think it would taste better than anything. Don’t give it to Aleeda, give it to me. I’ll always take it happily. I could even be sleeping Regulus just push your cock in and let your daughter take your fat load with all those eager semen churning inside me.”

“Fuck baby! You wanted this so badly!” He growled. He began to suck on my nipples. He was lapping and suckling.

“Is it so bad for a brother in law to want the ripe, fertile, unused, hairless pussy of a sweet girl. I deserve to taste those perky jiggling breasts. You wanted me so I own you. You’re completely mine now.”

“Oh Regulus, cunny feels funny, imma-“

“That’s it baby, let it out,” he encouraged as his cock just twitched and throbbed over and over. His huge adult balls slapped me as he continued to fuck into me.

“I can let go?” I asked with tears in my eyes.

“Yeah,” he groaned.

“On your cock? On my brother in law’s big cock?” I asked now.

“Oh fuck me, you better do it soon or I’m gonna lose it inside this underage cunt,” he growled.

“Yes sir,” I nodded almost hysterically. I was thrusting up to meet him now. I couldn’t stay still even for a moment. My legs flailed and I whimpered. I thought about how my own brother in law was balls deep inside me. I thought about how horrified and jealous Aleeda would be.

The feeling of fullness overwhelmed me then. I was gasping and whinging. I arched upwards as slick spurted from me. I felt pleasure all over even in my fucking teeth as I came undone completely.

“That’s my girl, I knew you could,” he praised me. “I bet that’s your first one ever too. You cunt feels so good fluttering around my dick. You’re doing so well.”

“Oh Reggggggg,” I moaned.

“Alright angel, I’m gonna pull out now. I can’t take it anymore,” he told me.

“No please!” I begged. “Cum inside me.”

“Baby,” he moaned. He really wanted to and I could tell.

“It’s so wrong Angel. What if you got all knocked up?” He asked rubbing my belly possessively.

“Would that be so bad, then I could be with you always,” I said with doe eyes.

“Fuck, baby, you’re tempting,” he said with a particularly hard thrust. His balls were so full and I wanted him to use me as relief.

“It’s not bad Reg, you’ve tried so hard to stay away from me,” I promised him, holding his face. “You have wanked and fucked Aleeda and have done everything that you could. You’ve earned it. Cum inside your baby girl. Let my princess parts feel the creamy load of a man.”

“FUCK!” He nearly roared. He moved even faster and finally he let out a deep groan and I was filled with sticky gooey perfection. I felt like I was drunk on the goodness of the huge load. I was smiling goofily as he fucked it deeper. I sighed in contentment, rubbing my stomach. I hoped my womb had gotten every single drop.

“I hope I get pregnant Regulus,” I said to him as he pulled out his coated cock. Strings of semen connected my pussy and my dad’s perfect dick. I beamed happily, I was finally, finally satiated. All along I’d just needed my Brother in laws cock.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[hp-hcs]

violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????

i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .

"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"

hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭

requests open

prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!

1.5k words!

i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.

With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.

“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.

“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.

The man gave you a cheery grin—far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”

You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”

“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?

“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”

Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”

Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.

“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”

Seriously, what was going on?

“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”

Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”

“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”

Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”

“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”

Your jaw dropped.

They thought you did this?

~~~

You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.

You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.

You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.

Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.

“L/n, I presume?”

“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.

The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.

You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.

The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”

“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”

He grinned. “Not really, no.”

The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.

“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”

You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”

“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”

“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.

He smiled again.

He was a very smiley man.

He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.

The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.

You grimaced.

Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”

You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.

It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.

He was right. It wasn’t a great look.

“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”

You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.

As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.

~~~

You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.

“Easy, careful.”

You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”

It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”

“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”

You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.

Pretty simple choice.

It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.

Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.

The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.

(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)

((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))

However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-

“Riddle?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.

“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”

You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.

“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”

Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”

“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”

You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”

He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”

All the color drained from your face.

“You killed Cormac?”

He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”

Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”

You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”

You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.

“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.

“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.

That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.

“Crucio!”

You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.

You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.

You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.

“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

Then all at once, it stops.

You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.

“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.

You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.

“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”

Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.

“G-go to hell.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.

“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”

••••���•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taglist! @gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy @mothermah3m @siuspider @ineedtogetalife11 @cherry-berry-ollie @cherriosxfish @a-hopeless-romantics-blog @fallingblackveils @ldrsog @linde0s @ghost-tyr @booksouflette @h0treader @maraudersforlife2005 @ahano @miah-macaroni @whatislifes-stuff @iara-ximena17 @goth-blackcat @dutifullyfuturisticwizard @docackerman @mizu-mc @tiacordelia02 @mingyuethesimp @luvlli @dracoshusband @verychaoticgay @thathogwartsjedi @lisbethpisbeth @remusily @daliah-xxo @rainy-darling @corinneeagles @sle1epy @averys-place @shibble @i-love-sirius-black7 @azu-202029 @artemismckinnon @lostboychimera @yukimaniac @annegrey

[thechekhov]

Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH48

I KNEW in theory that they were on an island, but it's still such a huge wakeup call to realize that it's TINY and there are many more dungeons on the mainland.

Stuck between the hilarity of Senshi McGoogly Eyes being carried off by what is essentially a bird with some back legs (good thing it didn't try to gut him midair by kicking like big cats do).......... and the horror of a giant thing just carrying one of your friends off much, much faster than you can ever run.

I really love the environment here. Absolutely chilling on so many levels. Bravo.

Love that aside from Forbidden Necromancy we are now also introducing Forbidden Transmutation into the mix. That's a nice change of pace.

Marcille really is lawful evil. Like, she'll break the rules...... but only after there are solid rules to break.

...I've never caught that. I always assumed Senshi was just one of the first ones in. But the dungeon had existed for far longer. Maybe he's just been in there...... having a good time on his own? Imagine his surprise when his tunnels are suddenly filled with adventurers.

It COULD be. It could also be that he's from further away, and he came to the dungeon through tunnels, instead of up top.

THEY'RE PERFECT.

AWWW, HE ANGY.

The braincell. Is in position.

................................ Laios no. This is not the time for your sparkledog OC. Please. Laios please be serious.

Oh, he's actually being reasonable about this! :0

.....w...why was that the natural move...? Lions don't kick.... But ok I guess lmao

This feels like a conversation Kui san had with her editor.....

You just know this thing will be weird looking.

OR extremely silly. I'll take it!

Artists making the faces they draw energy.

Oh, hey that worked! But..... :( the skyfish buddy........

NOOOOOOOO HOW COULD YOU

(´。＿。｀)

I MEAN YEAH HE'S FULL OF VEGETABLES BUT--

He does look delicious, not gonna lie. And it's a Laios special!!

Are we about to have Senshi backstory for dessert?

Just drop that little tidbit at the end, yeah, go right ahead hahaha. "due to various circumstances"......... is that your work or DIVORCE?

hang on a second

SENSHI IS STEVEN UNIVERSE CONFIRMED????

Okay,I kid but. He's so young! Not even a proper dwarf yet! How old WAS he? Why go on this expedition????

I'm INTRIGUED!

[sashi-ya]

❀˖ KINKTOBER 23 MASTERLIST ㅤㅤㅤOct 1st - Oct 14th

ʚ 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 ɞ - due to tumblr acting stupid, I was forced to split the ML in two parts. You will find the fics from days 15 to 31 on this masterlist. - the list will be updated everyday as I post the fics for each day ~ - mdni, do not copy, repost or translate without permision. - tag system as an extra tw: soft kinks 🤍 | mild kinks 💜 | hard kinks 🖤 |

ʚ 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ɞ

❀˖⁺ OCT 1. free use ⋆ roronoa zoro + f! r 💜 synopsis. you are serving the new daimyo of Ringo, Roronoa Zoro. And part of your duties are to simply allow the swordsman to use you whenever, and however he pleases.

❀˖⁺ OCT 2. god form ⋆ nika luffy + f! r 🤍 synopsis. curious, Luffy and you, decide to spice things up. Will you give your body to the Sun God Nika? will you allow him to take you to heaven?.

❀˖⁺ OCT 3. glory hole ⋆ nico robin x m! r 💜 synopsis. tired of the mundane life, Nico Robin, a successful CEO visits a different type of club to have some fun behind a wall. You, on a business mission, will visit the same club. Which surprises will you find there?.

❀˖⁺ OCT 4. threesome ⋆ kid x killer x f! r 💜 synopsis. after he cheated, your friends Kid and Killer are there to console you... in many different ways.

❀˖⁺ OCT 5. pregnancy ⋆ kyoraku shunsui x f! r 🤍 synopsis. who said pregnant women aren't sexy? to Shunsui your body has now became a beautiful temple in which he wanna kneel and pray to the Goddess you are.

❀˖⁺ OCT 6. dom/sub ⋆ hongo x f! r 💜 synopsis. while everyone thinks you are sick, you visit doctor Hongo for different reasons... an illness that gets cured by pure vitamin D.

❀˖⁺ OCT 7. stepcest ⋆ kisuke urahara x f! r 🖤 synopsis. you've been holding back for a long time now.. will you keep stopping yourself? or will you be succumbing to Kisuke's forbidden body tonight?

❀˖⁺ OCT 8. sex machine ⋆ germa brothers x gn! r 🖤 synopsis. you are used to have fun with the Germa brothers, but are you ready to play with their new toy?

❀˖⁺ OCT 9. df/bankai ⋆ byakuya kuchiki x f! r 🤍 synopsis. how would you react if a soul fell in love with you, a mortal?

❀˖⁺ OCT 10. impregnation ⋆ sabo x f! r 🤍 synopsis. keep teasing Sabo to fill you up, and you will find out what he is capable of...

❀˖⁺ OCT 11. watersports ⋆ sosuke aizen x f! r 💜 synopsis. Aizen has a lot of things to teach you and show you... will you drench yourself in knowledge... and experience?

❀˖⁺ OCT 12. dry humping ⋆ trafalgar law x gn! r 🤍 synopsis. insatiable, you want more. And because you can't wait until getting home, Law will allow you to sit on his lap while he drives...

❀˖⁺ OCT 13. public ⋆ donquixote rosinante x f! r 💜 synopsis. silence can be the best ally when you don't wanna get discover

❀˖⁺ OCT 14. leather straps/ bondage ⋆ law x f! r 💜 synopsis. please, stay quiet and still while he works... if not, Law will have to tie you down.

for the following days please visit this masterlist🌸 ˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

Hello who wrote that script I just want to talk

I tried to draw a hand now clap everyone!

Buuuut I messed up the format. Oh well ...

[honeyedmiller]

Joel Miller Masterlist

* indicates smut. 18+, minors do not interact.

one shots:

Tailgate*

-> your best friend drags you to a tailgate party, and you end up being introduced to one very attractive miller brother.

A Forever Thing

-> you and joel have been trying for a baby since the night you two married, but haven’t had any luck—until you do.

Help Me Forget*

-> joel and tommy stumble upon an unexpected body in the snow on their patrol, and they bring the person back to jackson with them.

Pout*

-> joel’s noticed you’ve been working a little too hard, and he misses you. he decides to use his all-consuming charm to coax you to relax… in more ways than one.

Forbidden Fruit*

-> you return back home from college after graduating with your master’s degree, and joel miller is surprised to see how much you’ve really grown up.

Shotgun*

-> you and joel smoke together for the first time.

Ride, Cowgirl*

-> you tell joel one of your fantasies that’d been on the back burner, but he encourages you to bring it to life.

Love Me Tender

-> after a terrible mental week, joel checks in on you and makes sure you’re taken care of.

Something in the Orange

-> you and joel enjoy a peaceful autumn morning together.

Ring*

-> tommy teases joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your wedding ring.

Mask*

-> joel throws his annual halloween party, and you’re both determined to settle your aching need for each other.

Mystery

-> tommy drags joel to a club which he detests to, until he sets his sights on you.

Checkmate – blurb*

-> screwing your dad’s best friend shouldn’t feel this good.

Checkmate – one shot*

-> you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

Nobody Does It Like You Do*

-> good girls always get rewarded.

Birthday Girl*

-> joel gives you a sweet surprise on your birthday.

Traditions*

-> you and joel make holiday traditions in your new home.

Sweet Thing*

-> the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

A Merry Little Christmas

-> christmas morning at the miller household is always chaotic in the sweetest way possible.

Dawn’s First Light*

-> joel tells you he loves you for the first time.

Hiraeth*

-> the most invigorating and intoxicating drug you’ve had in your life is completely forbidden—and then there’s weed.

Real Love, Baby

-> joel has a bad day at work, but seeing you dancing in the kitchen makes it all better.

An Ode to Forever*

-> after an arduous day, joel draws a bath to help you both relax.

or

an ode to how much you love joel miller, and he, you.

The Hills*

-> drugs. sex. fame. joel miller. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

Sweet*

-> it’s a lazy sunday, and joel prefers to have his coffee in bed with a side of you.

Clouded*

-> saturdays are meant for errands and chores. joel convinces you otherwise just for once.

Pretty Little Thing*

-> it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

drabbles:

Angel*

Sir*

[untitled]*

series:

Fate, After All*

-> your mom thinks it’s a bright idea to keep setting you up on blind date after blind date. none of them work in your favor—until one unintentionally does.

Law of Attraction*

-> you and your criminal law professor have an undeniable attraction toward each other. it’s only natural that you both explore that attraction—but navigating a dynamic like that is never as simple as it seems.

A Burning Desire (ongoing)*

-> you were fine with being single, basking in the freedom and independence of it all—until a handsome firefighter walks into your life and completely flips your world around.

Yours, Always (on hold)*

-> in which you find an old mixtape made by the one that got away.

[virginiaoflykos]

What to read after Light Bringer? (Series similar to Red Rising)

August 2023 update!

Red Rising is my favorite series of all time, and since I first read it, I have sought series and books similar in both spirit and execution. Some of these recs are books I haven’t read personally, but have often come up in discussions with other users!

1. The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson

Status: ongoing, expected 10 books in total, 4/10 out at the moment

Book 1: The Way of Kings. The Way of Kings takes place on the world of Roshar, where war is constantly being waged on the Shattered Plains, and the Highprinces of Alethkar fight to avenge a king that died many moons ago.

2. The Craft Sequence by Max Gladstone

Status: finished, 6/6 books out.

Book 1 (in publication order): Three Parts Dead. Comprised of 6 standalone books set in the same universe, the Craft Sequence tells the tales of the city of Alt Coulumb. The city came out of the God Wars with one of its gods intact, Kos the Everburning. In return for the worship of his people, Kos provides heat and steam power to the citizens of Alt Coulumb; he is also the hub of a vast network of power relationships with other gods and god-like beings across the planet. Oh, and he has just died. If he isn’t revived in some form by the turn of the new moon, the city will descend into chaos and the finances of the globe will take a severe hit.

3. Hierarchy by James Islington

Status: ongoing, 1/3 planned books out

Book 1: The Will of the many. The Will of the Many tells the story of Vis, a young orphan who is adopted by one of the sociopolitical elites of the Hierarchy. Vis is tasked with entering a prestigious magical academy with one goal – ascend the ranks, figure out what the other major branches of the government are doing, and report back. However, that isn’t quite as easy as Vis or anyone else thought it was going to be…

4. Suneater by Christopher Ruocchio

Status: ongoing, 5/7 books out

Book 1: Empire of Silence. Hadrian is a man doomed to universal infamy after ordering the destruction of a sun to commit an unforgivable act of genocide. Told as a chronicle written by an older Hadrian, Empire of Silence details his earlier adventures and serves as an introduction to the characters and the setting.

5. Dune by Frank Herbert

Status: completed, 6/6 books out

Book 1: Dune. Set in the distant future amidst a feudal interstellar society in which various noble houses control planetary fiefs. It tells the story of young Paul Atreides, whose family accepts the stewardship of the planet Arrakis. While the planet is an inhospitable and sparsely populated desert wasteland, it is the only source of melange, or "spice", a drug that extends life and enhances mental abilities.

6. The Expanse by James S A Corey

Status: completed, 9/9 books out

Book 1: Leviathan wakes. Set hundreds of years in the future, after mankind has colonized the solar system. A hardened detective and a rogue ship's captain come together for what starts as a missing young woman and evolves into a race across the solar system to expose the greatest conspiracy in human history.

7. The First Law by Joe Abercrombie

Status: completed. 3 books in the original trilogy + 3 standalone books + 3 books in the newest trilogy

Book 1: The Blade Itself. The story follows the fortunes and misfortunes of bad people who do the right thing, good people who do the wrong thing, stupid people who do the stupid thing and, well, pretty much any combination of the above. Survival is no mean feat, and at the end of the day, dumb luck might be more of an asset than any amount of planning, skill, or noble intention.

8. Cradle by Will Wight

Status: completed, 12/12 books out

Book 1: Unsouled. Lindon is Unsouled, forbidden to learn the sacred arts of his clan. When faced with a looming fate he cannot ignore, he must rise beyond anything he's ever known...and forge his own Path

9. Hyperion Cantos by Dan Simmons (one PB’s favorites)

Status: completed, 4/4 books out

Book 1: Hyperion. The story weaves the interlocking tales of a diverse group of travelers sent on a pilgrimage to the Time Tombs on Hyperion. The travelers have been sent by the Church of the Final Atonement, alternately known as the Shrike Church, and the Hegemony (the government of the human star systems) to make a request of the Shrike. As they progress in their journey, each of the pilgrims tells their tale.

[loveliestlovelygirl]

divine temptations | 111

say yes to heaven, say yes to me

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: anakin, a seraph, has lost himself to his obsession of you. with every moment he can, he watches over you as you attend to your daily duties around the convent. and day by day his desire grows. when your guardian angels fail to protect you, anakin believes he has no choice but to intervene, breaking numerous heavenly laws in the process.

w.c: 2.2k+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from catholicism primarily, sexual themes, corruption kink, light sexualization of the reader as a nun, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns, attempted sexual assault

table of contents | 222

The crux of his obsession began with your voice. Harmonious and pure. Passionate and sweet. The soft vibrato and splendid timbre of your voice could be heard above all the clatter from the realms of Earth. The melodies you sang haunted him from the rise of the sun to the white shadow of the moon. And while he needed not sleep, he found no rest as he smoldered in his selfish desires for you. After he had fulfilled his duties for that day, when he was alone, he remained perched in the Heavens watching over you, drowning in the beauty of your voice, and lusting for your human touch.

His name was Anakin. And day after day he watched you, wishing he could descend to the realm which held your precious life. But that was a boundary that he was forbidden to cross. He was confined to be a guardian of the Heavens, not of Earth. To him, it was a cruel, cruel fate. Watching you from above, lightyears of distance between your realities, was as close to you as he was permitted.

An angel of his status, chosen to protect the thrones of the deity, a seraph, should give no eye to the realms beneath him nor find solace in the voice of human girl. The way that you had captivated him was unnatural and unholy. If anyone found out he entertained himself with you, he might be marked with shame by the highest councils, until he repented publicly. Though he might never obtain such a position as his ever again. As it were, he found himself considering these things, as if shame might be a solution to making contact with you.

He'd prefer to be your guardian angel than a guardian of his own father. He wanted to serve creation rather than its Creator. And that was sin. He could not deny this secret was a source of guilt. And it would not be long before the all-knowing Maker noticed how far from perfection Anakin had fallen.

But he wasn’t afraid of the fall. He wanted to connect with you in a deeper way than this parasocial existence. He wished to be your guardian angel. But you had many. Someone so beloved by the Creator had five guardian angels. And he hated each of them with equal rage.

Hate was dangerous. It was said that hatred lit the path of the fallen. And if it were true, then he had already doomed himself the moment he began desiring you.

He watched you as you prayed in the chapel, kneeling on the bench and making the Sign of the Cross, touching your beautiful skin with your fingertips. Contentment marked your face, and he felt it in your soul. It was only a feeling he had when he listened to your voice pray and sing with such grace and beauty. In your dainty hands, you held the rosary beads and began to say your prayer. Holding the first bead between your fingers, you whispered Our Father to yourself. Day after day you’d repeat the same prayers with equal passion. Your love and faithfulness to the one who gave you life was unmatchable. You had sacrificed much to serve him, cutting off your family and material possessions entirely to live a humble life in the convent. Your prayers never revolved around your desires, only for others. You often prayed for your sisters. Never for yourself. Anakin often wondered if you had any dreams of your own at all. Despite all his abilities, he could not hear your thoughts. He only heard what you said aloud to yourself.

As you worked with your hands in the garden, you often sang psalms of praise when you thought no one was around to listen. You sang softly, the most beautiful melody which would stain his thoughts day and night forever. He would hear you even when you were silent; the barriers of all the heavenly realms echoed with your voice, to his ears never ceasing. But perhaps, it’s only because he desired you so.

His obsession was different than that of men. Though not immune to your divine beauty, his craving for your touch transcended that of sexual pleasure. Sex is something created for humans to enjoy with other humans. His being was never made for intercourse with mankind, and he viewed it as a simple animalistic action. A way to express desire, but to him it was lacking in true passion.

What he felt for you was true desire.

He wanted to consume you.

Corrupt you.

He wanted you to desire him, crave him, lust over him, with every atom of your body and with every piece of your soul. He wanted to see you overturn your religious convictions and worship him instead. He wanted your prayers, your psalms, your whole heart.

Was that too much to ask?

Forbidden was what it was. Sacrilegious even. And enough to get him cast out of the heavenly realms forever.

But the longer he wished for you, the more he thought that it might be worth it. There was nothing he wanted more than you. And only you. He wanted to live out the rest of eternity adored by you. That would be enough.

But you were unaware of his existence. Which awakened rage within him strong enough to tear galaxies apart.

He could see you, but as long as he remained in his dimension, you would never be able to see him or know that he existed. He was forbidden to show you his glory, to share his voice, and to touch your skin. It was never meant to be.

And yet he still found a way to make contact, against all heavenly odds.

You were plucking red apples from the orchard trees close to the road. It wasn’t a common route from the convent to the market, but some used it. Anakin had finally caught a break from the council meetings with the Thrones and Cherubim and sneaked away to see you. He hated that your sisters sent you out alone where you could be harmed.

Your five guardians flitted around you in a circle. He knew that they would do almost everything in their power to keep you safe. Everything except actually physically intervening. For you, there would be no limits in how far Anakin would go to protect you. He would break every earthly and heavenly law.

For you.

And only you.

When you had filled your basket with apples, you climbed down the ladder to rest. You leaned back against the tree and looked up at the sky. If you had eyes to see the other dimensions, you would have been looking right into his eyes. His heart swelled with pride, knowing that you shared a connection, even if you didn’t know it yet.

An older human male was steering a small buggy pulled by two horses. Anakin had been watching him for miles coming down the road. Your guardian angels seemed to be unconcerned about his approach. And they could hear the thoughts of humans, which meant that you were likely safe.

But there was something about that man Anakin didn’t like. Perhaps it was only his proximity to you. He was jealous of anything that was closer to you than he.

You sang to yourself softly, and Anakin drew as near as he were permitted just to listen to your voice.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said to you. He had gotten off his buggy and walked over the road and a stretch of grass to meet you at the tree.

Anakin held himself back somehow, though if he saw fit, he could scorch the man from the inside out until he returned to dust.

You looked up at this stranger standing over you, and instantly, your eyes widened in fear. Anakin assumed it had been a long time since you’d spoken to a man. It was natural for you to be afraid. You thought you were all alone.

Anakin only watched the interaction transpire.

“Thank you,” you said back, your voice trembling.

“Would you sing a song for me?” the man asked.

“I think… that you should leave. This is private land, sir.”

A sane person would have backed away and said his goodbyes, but he didn’t. And Anakin knew instantly that he should have trusted himself to know this man’s intentions for you. This despicable creature kicked the basket from your lap and grabbed you, holding you by the throat against the tree trunk.

Your guardian angels had failed you. All five of them. Were they not paying attention to his evil thoughts? How had they missed them? They held the power to influence the thoughts of men. They could have convinced him to turn away and leave you alone.

But they didn’t.

They were going to let this man defile you.

Anakin watched them scrambling around, trying when it’s too late to change this man’s heart. But they could do nothing to interfere with free will once man had decided.

And Anakin thought that to be a stupid law. One meant to be broken.

With a singular motion of his index finger, Anakin sent lightning from the clouds, lightning that struck this man and stopped his heart. He was burned and scarred instantly and fell back, turning to ash.

You screeched and cried and sobbed, crumbling to your knees in a shaking mess. He wished he could comfort you, but he had already done enough to ruin himself entirely. But it was worth it to keep you safe. This was as close to you as he had ever gotten. The electricity from his lightning bolt just buzzed your skin. And he felt it. He wanted you to feel him in some way.

Your guardians looked up at him all at once with fire in their eyes. Anakin smiled and gave them a wave. They were angry and picked him up. He could not overpower them when they were together.

They carried him to the high council and dropped him in the center of the chamber. Anakin did not need to explain himself; they already knew what had transpired.

“Need we remind you of the law of free will? The law given to humans by our Creator?” the Throne of Reason, Mace, said. His eyes were full of judgment and understanding at the same time.

Anakin picked himself up and stood, stretching out his layers of feathered wings. “I could not stand by and watch her be harmed.”

Mace closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. “You are in dangerous territory, young one. You know that what you did is one of the greatest of sins. To interfere with man’s will—” Mace pressed his lips together, “in such a physical way. Using the Heavens’ power against mankind. Anakin, you killed a man today.”

This was all such a waste of time. He knew what they were going to say. How they would interpret his actions. But why was no one speaking of that human’s sin. Rape. Raping a young maiden. That wasn’t worthy of a discussion? It wasn’t worthy of being mentioned?

“What about him?” Anakin asked defiantly.

Obi-Wan shot him a warning glare from where he sat. Obi-Wan was a cherub, one that was usually too busy attending to the wishes of the Creator to attend the high council. But Anakin did not doubt that his friend’s presence was needed today.

“The human?” Mace did not appreciate the diversion from Anakin’s sin.

“Yes. He was going to hurt her! And they—” Anakin pointed at your guardian angels, his entire being catching fire from his rage, “they weren’t going to intervene in any real way. They failed to listen. If I could hear the thoughts of men, I would have done something before he laid a hand on her.”

“Your obsession with this human is… concerning. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Why are your thoughts on the Earth realms? Need I remind you that your duties are the greatest in all of Heaven?” Mace said.

“But they could have done something!”

Disapprovingly, Mace shook his head. “You can’t know that. Only the Creator does. And it is not your place nor mine to judge men. That is for the Principalities to determine. They enact rightful punishment on humanity. You are not to interfere.”

Obi-Wan spoke up, coming to Anakin’s defense. “He is young. Neither you nor I can say that we haven’t made mistakes.”

“It wasn’t just a mistake. He broke the law. He overstepped his boundaries. He killed a man.”

“In his eyes, he was protecting her.”

Mace sighed. “She does not need him for that.”

Anakin stood there for a long time, drowning in their criticisms. His chest felt heavy, and he couldn’t hear himself think. He couldn’t hear you. All that he could do was worry for you. He knew the human mind could not erase trauma. It would remain with them for good. Tears streamed down his face at the thought of your pain which you did not deserve.

“I don’t need to listen to any of you! You have no authority over me!” Anakin announced without shame. Seraphim were of the highest order.

“I was not the one who called this meeting,” Mace said sympathetically. He looked above.

There was only one who held authority over him.

add yourself to my taglist!! @princessswifie @doblasftcisco @multifandermissesanakin @jadegmfu @coldkiss @mysteriouslydelightfulcloud @karei009 @anda-the-valkyrie @vinushkka @avoxzy @edclynns @ter-luer @anakinniesluv @purelevna @forets-noyees @zvjezdapadalica @anisgirl7 @reine-lalune @ssskywalkerrr @anakinsbbgirl @sweetcheesecakesblog @rozastarz @bby-imasociopath @moonlight-kr @anonymous1996s @luvanaise @ziggystarduzzt @gwdnsqal @lonelywitchv2 @tembud

@ejs398 @anakinsgirlfriendreal

[magnetothemagnificent]

Why aren't ostriches kosher? A case-study for Kashrut laws

Unlike mammals and fish, the Torah does not provide a list of signs that identify a bird as kosher or non-kosher. Instead, it provides a list of non-kosher birds in Leviticus 11:13-19, and they are:

נֶּ֙שֶׁר֙- Eagle

פֶּ֔רֶס- Vulture (or Kite)

עׇזְנִיָּֽה- Black vulture (or Osprey)

דָּאָ֔ה- Kite (or Kestrel)

אַיָּ֖ה לְמִינָֽהּ- Falcon (or Vulture) of every variety

כׇּל־עֹרֵ֖ב לְמִינֽוֹ- All varieties of Raven

בַּ֣ת הַֽיַּעֲנָ֔ה- Ostrich

תַּחְמָ֖ס- Nighthawk (or Jay, or Goatsucker, or some species of Owl)

שָּׁ֑חַף- Gull (or Sparrow hawk)

נֵּ֖ץ לְמִינֵֽהוּ- Hawks of every variety

כּ֥וֹס- Little owl (or just Owl)

שָּׁלָ֖ךְ- Cormorant (or Gull)

יַּנְשֽׁוּף- Great owl

תִּנְשֶׁ֥מֶת- White owl

קָּאָ֖ת- Pelican (or Starling)

רָחָֽם- Bustard (or Magpie)

חֲסִידָ֔ה- Stork

אֲנָפָ֖ה לְמִינָ֑הּ- Herons of every variety

דּוּכִיפַ֖ת- Hoopoe

עֲטַלֵּֽף- Bat

The Torah repeats this list in Deuteronomy 14:11-18. As you can see, most of the species on this list are uncertain in translation (which is why I offered alternate translations), although you can see the general idea. But, we know 100% that ostrich is explicitly forbidden in the Torah, we don't even need to derive anything. The birds that are kosher are generally regarded as kosher based on unbroken tradition that they are (they are cases of birds no longer being considered kosher by most Jews despite them once being considered kosher, because the tradition was broken, but we'll get to that later).

Of course, there are many more birds species besides those listed, and very early on the Sages figured signs of kosher and non-kosher birds based on the list. First, as you can see, many of the birds on the list are birds of prey, so any birds of prey are automatically non-kosher. That was easy for them to figure out.

But what about anatomical signs?

Well, they figured that out, too. (Chullin 59a)

A bird that claws its prey and eats is non-kosher (such as birds of prey).

A kosher bird has a digit seperated slightler higher behind the other three toes, a crop, and/or a gizzard that has a membrane on the inside that can be peeled. Below is a comparison of raven feet and a parrot's foot, versus duck feet and chicken feet. On the left, the raven and parrot's feet have all their toes branching out of the same level. On the right, the duck and chicken feet's back toe is slightly elevated and seperate from the other toes.

A bird that perches on a wire with two toes in the front and two in the back is non-kosher, as demonstrated below by a close-up of a parrot's feet while perching. You can see that there are only two toes in the front, while the other two are in the back.

So, in order for a bird to be considered kosher, it must not be on the list of non-kosher birds provided in the Torah, must fulfil the anatomical descriptions outlined later by the Sages, and must have a tradition of being kosher.

Israel is the largest consumer of turkey meat per capita. This is because Jews eat a lot of turkey, including kosher-keeping Jews. But.....turkey is a New World bird! How can there be a tradition of turkeys being kosher if the ancient Israelites would have never encountered turkeys???

So this is where it gets even more interesting. When turkey was first introduced to Jews, it became widely popular. It's thought that Jews first started eating it because of its similarity to chicken, and assumed it must be kosher. Eventually, the Rabbis realized they had to make a decision about the status of turkeys. If they ruled turkeys as non-kosher, then all the Jews who had already been eating turkeys would be ruled as eating non-kosher, which y'know as a Rabbi you really don't want to declare a whole bunch of Jews as doing the wrong thing. So, most Rabbis relied on a passage in the Talmud stating that a non-kosher animal cannot become pregnant by kosher animals (Bekhorot 7a). Since turkeys and chickens can hybridize, Rabbis relied on this passage to declare turkeys as kosher. There are still some Jews today that don't regard turkey as kosher, but it is accepted as kosher by the majority of world Jewry and is a very popular meat.

What about peacocks? Well, peafowl are mentioned numerous times in the Tanakh and in Jewish history as being eaten, but today, the Orthodox Union does not certify them as kosher. Peafowl are genetically related to other kosher birds and have all the necessary signs.....but they are no longer considered kosher by major Orthodox opinions. This is because the last record of peafowl being considered kosher and eaten by a Jewish community was in the mid 19th century. The tradition was broken, and therefore peafowl aren't eaten or certified, despite the fact that they technically are kosher.

Now here's where is gets fun- somehow, the distinctions between kosher and non-kosher birds fit really neatly within our modern understanding of bird phylogeny. Most kosher birds fall under the Galliformes (chickens and friends) and Anseriformes (ducks and friends) Orders, which are more closely related to eachother than they are to any other Orders, and make up the Superoder Galloanserae. The only kosher birds that don't fall into that Superorder are pigeons and doves, but pigeons and doves are already considered a little different by the Sages- they're the only birds that can be used as offerings in the Temple. This is yet another example of how well the ancient Jewish animal classifications fit with out modern phylogenetic understanding, it's super cool. Because grebes and gallinules look a lot more similar to ducks than chickens do, but nope, they are not kosher while ducks and chickens are, and indeed, ducks and chickens are more closely related to each other than ducks are related to grebes and gallinules.

So, in conclusion- ostriches aren't kosher because

1) They are listed among the non-kosher birds in the Torah

2) They are missing toes- their toes are not in the configuration outlined in the Talmud, and in fact they only have two very large toes, as you can see below:

3) They do not have a crop (all ratites do not have crops)

Hope you enjoyed this long-winded way of answering why ostriches aren't kosher :)

Further Reading:

A Peafowl by any other Name

What Are the Signs of a Kosher Bird?

The Liberated Bird: Let’s Talk Turkey