#others belong to certain..... organizations

[yardsards]

adulthood is just visiting ur friends, saying "damn bitch, you live like this?" (affectionate) and aggressively helping them clean up while they politely tell you that you don't have to do that. and then having friends do that to you when they visit your apartment.

[emberwhite]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

[baldudiable]

random astrology observations ☆

pisces / 12th house suns often have a hard time knowing who they are. these placements often look at other sources to discover the true nature of their being. they end up adopting the same habits or interests as people they admire because they don’t know where theirs lie. pisces & the 12th house are associated with neptune, the planet that dissolves everything it touches. the sun is the ego, or what you believe you are. when these energies collide, it’s hard knowing who you are and what you want to do with your life. this can be both a blessing and a curse; it makes you open to all kinds of experiences, and allows you to be freed from the need to control outcomes. but it can also lead you to lose yourself and waste time that you could've applied to certain aspirations, and ending up not accomplishing anything worthwhile. if you have any of these placements, it's important that you do some soul searching and find out what it is that you want to do & become.

gemini is ruled by mercury, planet of knowledge and communication. leo is the sun, constantly showering the world with its light. natives with both of these placements in their charts love talking about themselves & their interests. leo is fixed, meaning it’s more likely to go deep into their interests than mutable & unstable gemini. combine the two and you get an expert in any kind of medium. these guys are real yappers though; once they are comfortable and start talking, it's near impossible to get them to stop.

it is true what they say about leo venus. these people love showering their love interest with affection and admiration. they will let the whole world know about how they feel for them. their lovers are an extension of themselves in a way, which makes them super proud and showy. what is also true is that they expect the same in return. like libra venus, they love being in love. so much so that they stay in unhealthy and unsatisfying dynamics because they need to feel love for someone, and desperately want that love given back to them.

pisces placements are very clumsy. it’s a water and neptune-ruled sign, which makes them ungrounded and kinda foggy in a way. obstacles seem to just appear out of nowhere for these placements. they are always bumping into walls or people, holding things too lightly and consequently dropping them. aries placements are pretty destructive in that sense too. they are always breaking things without intending to. which makes sense since they are ruled by mars, the great warrior. 

aries men enjoy partaking in physical fights or at least watching other people fight. many men with this placement enjoy sports like MMA or wrestling. either they are actively engaged in their practice or are very interested in them. aries is martian, which gives these people a kind of violence to them. fighting or watching other people fight helps them release the destructive anger they feel inside. 

virgo suns are surprisingly forgetful. since they’re given this collected and organized stereotype in astrology, you’d expect them to always remember about important things. but these people always seem to lose their belongings, not answer their texts and forget about their loved ones' birthdays. they are so focused on their work or responsibilities that they end up forgetting about the things that actually matter. 

libra placements are actually very self-centered. yes, libra is the sign of relationships. yes, it is about balance. but it’s on the same polarity as aries, which means that they share similarities. they have the potential to be as self-obsessed and selfish as their counterpart. in this lifetime, they are learning what it means to cooperate and include others in their life. likewise, aries placements can be relationship-oriented and generous with their possessions. their purpose involves learning to share the self without sacrificing it in the favor of others.

scorpio mars' anger can be explosive and honestly, quite surprising. these natives usually keep it under wraps for long until it's just too powerful for them to contain. as they grow, they learn to tame their anger, as they know how destructive it can be. they also hate not having control over their emotions. unlike aries mars, scorpio mars believes that getting involved in fighting means that you have lost power over yourself and handed it over to the other person. 

taurus mars embodies the lazy stereotype more than any other taurus placement. mars is energy. taurus is slow and enjoys comfort most of all. this detrimental mars doesn't like having to do things that require any physical effort. good luck trying to rush them or get them to go somewhere far. they might give in eventually, but you can be sure that they will complain the whole time about it.

lack of earth in a chart makes it difficult for you to orient yourself. even if you've been to a certain place countless times, it's still hard for you to know which directions you have to take to go there.

[sodomit]

TRANSUNITY

Transunity is a political theory that was actively talked about on Tumblr a couple of years ago, but has since fallen out of the public spotlight. And this is unfortunate, because it could have really improved a lot of the discourse around gender.

There exists a blog under that name ( @transunity ), but it has been inactive for a year. I am not affiliated with that blog anyhow, I never had any personal contacts with its mods, but I want to get their general ideas to circulate again, so I'm trying to bring this back up in a semi organized fashion. My take on transunity is just my take, if you're one of the original coiners, and you disagree, I encourage you to talk about it, because we still have much more in common with each other than different.

GENERAL VIEWS

I believe that one of the fundamental ideas more trans people need to understand is that we're all more or less in the same place in the eyes of the society (when other factors, such as ethnicity or disability, are considered). To be trans is to fail the gender role system, from the point of view of cis people we can no longer be proper men or women. All kinds of trans people regardless of identity are affected by misogyny and misandry (not a type of marginalization by itself, but turns into a vector of oppression when overlapping with a different marginalization), which forms the foundation of transmisogyny, transandrophobia, and exorsexism*. These types of bigotry are not exclusive and unique to specific gender identities either and may be applied to any trans person for as long as it's convenient to the oppressor.

Trans people do not have gendered power over each other, and intra community bigotry is better conceptualized as a form of lateral aggression.

Gender assignment and sex are never strictly binary (especially with inclusion of intersex people, who belong in gender conversations even if they don't identify as trans) and need to be understood as much more fluid and not strictly correlating with one's actual position in life.

WHAT WE NEED TO REDUCE

The following things should be discussed more critically:

- "Powerjacketing" - implying someone has gendered privilege as a means of delegitimizing their words, while in reality they do not have this privilege;

- Malgendering - forcing trans people to choose between being gendered correctly and speaking up about their mistreatment (e.g. questioning trans women's womanhood on the basis of them aggressively defending themselves or trans men's manhood on the basis of them asking for help) or implying there's something wrong with them in a way that reinforces gender stereotypes;

- Assuming that some trans people are exempt from some forms of oppression on the basis of gender assignment/sex (e.g. by calling all trans people who were assigned female "tme"** or claiming trans people who were assigned male are inherently incapable of understanding fear of sexual assault);

- Assuming that oppression of trans people is rooted in gender assignment/sex (such as, calling reproductive oppression "sex based oppression"***);

- Gatekeeping certain identities, such as "transmasc", "transbian", "femboy" as exclusive to any gender assignment/sex;

- Creating a duality out of "transsexual" and "cissexual", where not medically transitioning trans people are assumed to have some kind of a gendered privilege, or to not be trans in any meaningful material way. Various transmed ideas about dysphoria and transition go there too;

- Accusing trans people who take inspiration from each other of appropriation (trans headcanons, kinks, drag culture, etc).

SYMBOL

The following image is the official transunity symbol developed by the original transunity bloggers. Sorry about the glitch effect, I wasn't able to find one without it.

* Transmisogyny, transandrophobia, and exorsexism are not exclusive to specific identities, although they do primarily target traits associated with these identities. They can be conceptualized as bigotry and oppression towards people who are recognized as incorrectly entering respectively womanhood, manhood, and a status beyond gender binary (for the latter no normative form exists****). However, it's not wrong to use them to mean "oppression of trans women" and so forth, for as long as you're not claiming it's exclusive.

** Labels like "tma" and "tme" still may be used, but solely in a self assigned manner. I believe that an individual trans person is capable of evaluating whether they're affected by transmisogyny and in what way, and they should be trusted on this. However, no gender assignment and no current gender identity makes anyone inherently tme.

*** "Sex based oppression" instead of "reproductive oppression" reinforces the idea that people who share a specific body part (e.g. an uterus in context of conversations about abortion) are inherently of the same sex. This type of essentialism is desperately needed by terfs in this discussion, as they're trying to sell the ideas of "sex based oppression" and "sex based privilege" to people they want to recruit in their ideology. Invoking the idea of "sex" as something trans men and some nonbinary people are oppressed through is not the correct way to respond to people who say we don't experience any gendered violence besides "just transphobia", it has shitty implications and helps shitty people.

**** Lack of existence of normative nonbinary gender does not mean that these genders are not recognized by the society as a deviant, marginalized identity, and that binary people cannot be pushed into this zone.

[bunnygirllover45]

— VIVISECTION IS ANOTHER WAY OF SPELLING LOVE. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Graphical descriptions of the body, Seth wants to study you like you're a computer or something, MC has few to no dialogue, gender neutral MC. Very bizarre at certain points. Medical bullshit and philosophical stuff. Bad English.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 1,6k words. (This one is a long mf)

The nights always brought the same dream with them; four walls and a room that belonged to an old movie, the walls were decorated with shelves filled with pots, pots with colorful flowers on them, some of them were carelessly placed on top of each other, pressing on top of the poor flower that was under the crushing weight of the other.

This room only had two big windows that illuminated the whole room, illuminating it in a red hue, no matter how much you tried to stare out the window nothing but red was visible. It seemed like if you stared too much into that void for a second, it would swallow you whole, making you part of the bloody landscape.

The furniture was scarce. A table, something that resembled a bookshelf that contained a few books, but the letters were illegible to you since you couldn’t move from your assigned seat; a chair by the aforementioned table. In the center of the table, was a small vase filled with fresh poppies.

The ambiance was a little theatrical, to be honest, you couldn’t even imagine someone living in a place like this, it didn’t look like a place where you could have plants either, most of them were placed against a wall all the way in the back of the room, shrouded by darkness. Not even the crimson light from the window could reach them.

“The light of this place isn’t good for them, I have checked it countless times. Instead of giving them life, it kills them.” You heard the voice of your companion seated in front of you, and when you turned your face to look at him you found the crimson again, but it wasn’t from the window this time, it was from his eyes.

Red. Red. It looked like it wanted to swallow you whole. Those spirals were like the circles of hell, one by one looking at your movements with caution. You tried to answer his words, maybe with a question, maybe with an affirmation, but it was always complicated talking when you entered this ‘dream’ and Seth knew it.

“You know.” he started. 

Standing up from his seat and dragging his fingers across the wood of the table he began to circle it, never breaking eye contact for a second. “I have been reading some very interesting books lately.” he continued, his voice dragging across the whole place with an ominous echo to it, which was impossible due to the small size of the place. “They're medicine books, vivisections, that’s what they call it.” a small smile formed on his lips.

“Vivisections?” you managed to ask, your voice merely a whisper. Seth sharpened his gaze, pleased with the sweet sound of your voice, and then he nodded. 

“Yes, vivisection. It’s like… taking an organism that’s still alive and opening it, to learn how they function on the inside.” 

Seth continued, his leather gloves dragging across the table from side to side while he continued to circle the table, like a vulture, though it looked like a mere distraction, a small gesture he did while talking. It didn’t stop it from being spine-chilling though, the elegance in his movements wasn’t natural. “It seemed interesting to me, sounds nasty, it probably is.” he laughed.

One blink was enough to make him disappear from your sight, but when you felt two hands resting on top of your shoulders you knew he was still there. “Seth?” you called out his name, and he responded with a gentle squeeze against your frame, then you felt his hot breathing against your ear, it made you shiver.

“I’m here,” he reassured, you couldn’t see his expression but you were pretty sure he was still smiling, it was rare to see him without that grin on his face. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”

His petition made you nervous, the fact you couldn’t even turn to look at him worsened the uneasy feeling, your survival instinct screaming for you to not close your eyes, to not give in. But Seth was always good with you every time you came here, so why not? “Please.” Seth whispered against your ear when he noticed you still didn’t close your eyes, the sound of his voice so close it made you tremble.

Going against all common sense you closed your eyes. Feeling Seth’s hands pulling away from your shoulders you almost opened them again unconsciously, but for some reason, it was like they were closed shut by an invisible force, heavy like lead.

“How obedient. How precious. This is one of the many reasons why I like you.” 

First, you felt his gloved hands on your face, the sensation now multiplied thanks to one of your senses being removed, the leather felt softer, the sounds louder, and Seth’s breathing hotter. “The brain is like the body’s computer, an insistent and adaptive little thing, it’s truly fascinating.” 

“I think your mind is the thing I like the most about you. From the small unconscious movements you make while you’re asleep to the most trivial conversations are born in this beautiful place. It never stops to amaze me.” 

Now his voice came from the right, his fingers slipping from your face to your back, your breathing quickening as soon as you felt his hands slipping under your clothes, Seth traced invisible circles on the now exposed skin. “From here I can feel your breathing, you moved a little, do my gloves feel cold?” 

Seth removed his hands and the next second you could feel the touch of his fingertips on top of your skin, it seemed like he had taken off his gloves. “Better~?”

His voice sounded a little playful. “Skin-to-skin contact is even more pleasurable, no? I imagine having your eyes closed makes the experience even more intense.” 

“I can hear your breathing more clearly. Your lungs are closer to my hands.” And you could feel his breathing, even hearing how we swallowed heavily, like trying to hold back any unwanted sounds from escaping. “What a celestial sound.”

“If I put my mouth on top of you right now I could kiss you until you ran out of air. Then you wouldn’t have any other option than breathing the air I give you, that way each particle of oxygen that enters your system would have my name written on it.”

You tried to move, expecting your legs to crash against the table in front of you, but again. you couldn’t move, but you could feel like… everything around you disappeared for a second.

“You like that? You want that?” And when you heard Seth’s voice coming from in front of you it was unmistakable, everything felt like a small space where only you and Seth existed. “Ask me. Ask me and I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything.” 

Then everything fell silent, eerily silent. Then his hands felt like they were back again in all the places he previously touched at the same time, your face, your back, your shoulders, his touch was hot, enveloping you like he wanted to swallow you, like the red color outside the window, like the red in his eyes.

“Here.” His fingers moved like snakes against the skin in your chest, you took a deep breath unconsciously, and Seth laughed. “Here’s your heart.” 

“Sometimes I want to push my fingers under your skin, I don’t want to hurt you, of course I don’t, but I would love to see how beautiful you’re from the inside.”

“Like a computer with all its parts exposed, I would like to grab them and build you again like a puzzle, no — like a beautiful statue.” 

Now his fingers moved up and down across your skin, just like the way he had touched the table before, it seemed like he had anticipated this moment from much before, what a macabre little thing his brain was. “Mhm…” you felt Seth’s soft hair against your chest, he was drinking the sound of your heart beating like he was in the middle of the desert and you were the most beautiful oasis. “This sound is even more beautiful.” 

“It’s beating fast, the little thing, how adorable. Is it fear? Is it love? What kind of feeling is accelerating your beautiful core? Is it me? It must be me, there’s no one else here.” 

“Hey, do you love me?” You couldn’t answer, Seth knew that. “I love you too, I love you too much.” 

“I want to grab you in between my arms and squeeze you so hard you’d break, I’ll kiss each piece while I put you back together. I would call you my most beautiful creation, there’s nothing more charming than being God’s favorite creation, no?” 

Now his voice didn’t come from the left nor the right, it felt like you were being enveloped by him, all your senses, your body, Seth wanted to kill you with soft caresses and sweet whispers of eternal devotion. He wanted to swallow you. He wanted to vivisection you.

“When you wake up from this, please remember my touch, remember these sensations, remember our vivisection. You’ll give me that, right?” 

“When you come back I’ll be waiting, I promise I’ll hug you so sweetly you’ll never want to wake up again. I’ll give you a paradise so sweet you’ll want to poison yourself in it.” 

Finally, you opened your eyes, but you weren’t in that eerie room, nor was Seth there anymore. You stared at the sheets of your bed, everything looked too white, it made your eyes hurt. Taking a deep breath you held your hand against your chest.

You could still feel him there. His touch was still present, tingling against your skin.

And when your eyes fell to the skin of your chest you could see it better, the red marks, like the light coming from the light from that room, like the color of the blood flowing through your veins.

The marks of Seth’s fingers were still there, in your skin.

[daistea]

I need to make that man jealous. I need to see him riled up. I need to see him lose his cool. I need to be the center of his focus. Kicking my feet, twirling the phone cord, rolling over in bed, giggling, like "What do you think he'd do to me if he found out?"

I got u. rubs my filthy trash hands together 

3,700ish words

tw violence, mildly unhealthy relationship dynamics, language, slightly suggestive, Fleki

gn reader x mithrun, established relationship

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

 There are layers to Mithrun’s possessiveness.

Layer 1: Caution

You looked nice. Too nice. While Mithrun had a habit of staring, he never gawked. To gawk would imply a certain sort of pathetic desperation. Mithrun was desperate for you, but not pathetically so. 

How you looked at that moment was gawk-worthy, though. He only tilted his head, gaze roaming over your body as you leaned on the dining table, organizing your belongings. Your legs, your hair, your chest, your arms, your shoulders, your back, your—

It wasn’t acceptable.

“You’re going to Cithis’s house, you said?” Mithrun asked. His voice was level, even, with no betrayal towards the slowly growing flame burning within him.

You nodded and sent him a smile, “Yeah. Did you change your mind about coming?”

Yes? No. Mithrun felt himself tense, “I’ll think about it.”

He had zero interest in a party. He had zero interest in drinking and listening to people chatter all night. What he was interested in, though, was keeping an eye on you.

Mithrun’s fist clenched. He dug his nails into his palm, causing a light sting to run through his nerves. You dressed like that for this party? He trusted you to behave, but he didn’t trust anybody else. The thought of people looking at you, their eyes raking down you; the thought of others desiring you… It filled him with a taut, vibrating anger. He was a rope pulled too tightly, about to snap.

Mithrun was definitely going to that party, and he’d stay by your side the entire time. With his arms around you and his gaze roaming the room, nobody would dare bother you.

He won’t get into fights, usually, he won’t be dramatic or loud, but you know when he’s feeling possessive. He gets a dark look in his eye, he holds you tightly, he watches people like a wolf stalking a rabbit. His expression and vibes are usually enough to scare away potential threats.

Mithrun isn’t jealous out of insecurity. He’s jealous because you’re one of his few desires and he refuses to lose you to anyone. Simple.

He’s very shameless about it. 

The next layer to his jealousy/possessiveness is slightly more intense, though, and a bit more rare. 

Layer 2: Enter At Your Own Risk 

The streets of Melini were more crowded as of late. New people had come to check out the nation, and it made shopping for simple groceries difficult. 

You’d given Mithrun the task of locating the vegetable stand. He went without question, doing as you asked and slipping through the sea of bodies. With a moment to yourself, you hitched your woven basket into the crook of your elbow and inspected the fabrics stall. The little house you shared with Mithrun needed new curtains. 

 You ran a finger over a certain fabric, admiring the weave pattern. Yet, a shadow cast itself over the stall and a sudden presence to your right stole away your attention. 

 “Hey,” a man said. You looked up to meet his eyes. He was just a guy, perhaps his smile was a little too confident, but he seemed relatively normal. “You wanna know what material I’m wearing?”

Not particularly. But before you could reply, the man continued, “It’s called boyfriend material. Wanna touch?”

That had to be the worst pick up line you’d ever heard. Should you even dignify it with a response? You felt your expression twist into one of disgust without realizing it. And the man tensed as he noticed his lack of success.

“Let me try again!” He pleaded, “I promise, I’m a nice guy, I just wanted to make you laugh. I saw you from across the street and I think you’re beautiful. I couldn’t not talk to you, you know? I just had—“

You didn’t hear the rest of his words. Your focus immediately turned to the approaching storm. It was like watching dark clouds roll in, hearing thunder shake the world. 

Mithrun lifted his chin a little. He clenched his fist. In his other arm were several potatoes, exactly what you asked him to get. The breeze ruffled his hair. It was the worst kind of anger in his eye, the calm kind. Mithrun’s head was clear. He knew precisely what he was doing. 

Slowly, you shook your head, shooting him a warning look.

Mithrun ignored you. 

He stalked closer as his good eye narrowed. His nose wrinkled just a little, betraying his fury. His shoulders were tense and his knuckles were white as he picked up and potato and—

“No!” You commanded. Mithrun froze, obeying you, but he didn’t look happy about it. The flirty guy also froze with wide eyes.

“No?” The guy asked.

“Not you,” you hissed, then pointed at Mithrun who stood behind the guy, a potato in his hand and only inches away from the guy's back. “Mithrun, I swear to god, if you use your teleporting magic to switch out someone’s literal beating heart with a potato again, I’m making you sleep outside tonight.”

Mithrun was pissed. But he knew you meant it. He turned his gaze onto you, challenging you, daring you to stop him. You maintained eye contact, refusing to back down. He could not brutalize the people of Melini just because they thought you were pretty. The guy was annoying, but innocent. 

Finally, Mithrun’s jaw clenched, but he backed down. He lowered the potato of death and took a step away. The flirty guy was staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

Mithrun nodded his head to the left, “Go.”

“Yes sir!” The man said before scurrying away.

You knew your boyfriend was going to spend the next few hours a bit grumpy, a bit clingy and touchy, but… You actually didn’t mind that. It sent a thrill, a heat, up your spine.

He’ll calm down in a bit. It’s just offensive that someone would even try to take you.

Of course, you remind him that that’s unreasonable. That guy had no idea you were already in a relationship. 

Mithrun does not give a damn about reason and logic right now.

He can be a little scary. It’s nice…

Level 4: The Danger Zone

Due to being a loyal partner, purposefully making Mithrun jealous was not on your agenda. He would never do that to you, you’d never do that to him. It was cut and dry. Simple. 

Except, an old friend of yours was visiting Melini and had sent you a letter to announce his arrival. The handwriting on the letter was familiar, filling you with warm nostalgia. You hadn’t realized that you were smiling at his sweet words until Mithrun’s voice tore you from your thoughts. 

“Are they announcing another sale at the bakery?” He asked. It almost didn’t sound like a question with how flat his tone was. 

You looked up to see him in the kitchen nearby, his back to you as he slowly chopped at a green onion. His hair was pulled into a stubby ponytail, but locks of white still fell around his cheeks. You swore, sometimes that elf had eyes in the back of his head. 

“You think I’d be smiling like this at a sale announcement?” You asked dryly. 

“Yes, actually.”

He was right. You hated it when he was right. 

You always told Mithrun the truth, there were no secrets on your end. Mithrun, of course, had his little secrets that you would eventually discover. Like the time you desperately wanted a very pretty coat in the store, but someone else had already bought it, and Mithrun had Cithis brainwash the buyer into giving it to you. For months, you wore that coat thinking ‘wow how nice that they just gave it to me!’ 

Or the time the sequel to one of your favorite books was delayed. And Mithrun disappeared for two days without notice, then came back with an unbound manuscript of the book. You asked how he got it, he said he ‘knows a guy.’ In reality, he broke into the author’s house and stole the manuscript. 

The man was dedicated, you could give him that. 

Yet he kept secrets. Mithrun’s moral compass didn’t always point North and he didn’t care enough to fix it. You thought it was cute half the time, other times it caused a bit of trouble. In the case of your old friend, it would only cause trouble. 

So, for once, you decided to keep a secret. 

“No, it’s actually a sale at the butcher’s,” you lied, “buy one get one free on pork.”

Mithrun hummed in thought, “We could stock up and do a special on pork ramen.”

“We could do that, yeah.”

You hated lying. Now you had to somehow acquire an obscene amount of pork for the shop. 

You decided to tackle that challenge later. For now, your friend would be arriving soon, and you had to figure out how to meet him without raising suspicion. 

No matter how hard you try, suspicion rises like the tide. 

Mithrun isn’t paranoid about what you do in your time away from him. He has the tendency to be a bit codependent, but resists that urge (Kabru told him it was unfair to both of you to put all of his happiness on your shoulders. He begrudgingly agreed. Stupid Kabru and his stupid emotional intelligence.)

So, you go to do your thing. Whatever. He busies himself with one of his weird little hobbies, but Mithrun has a certain instinct for trouble. Something inside of him is telling him to beware, making him antsy. He doesn’t like these new feelings brought on by having a desire for you. It makes his knee bounce and his fingers restless. 

He looks at the fireplace. In the hearth, there’s the corner of a piece of parchment. Why was there parchment in the fireplace? Were you burning papers? Letters?

You were smiling so sweetly at the mail earlier…

He’s up and stalking across the house within seconds, out the door and into the streets of Melini. 

 Perhaps you were too trusting. Perhaps you were naive. Perhaps you were stupid. 

Ages ago, this particular old friend asked to marry you. You refused, of course, because you weren’t ready to get married and you didn’t feel that way about him. He asked again. And again. And again. It was annoying, but you decided to stay his friend because of your history together. 

Now that you had taken a moment to look back on said history, you realized…

This old friend had been trying to court you for years. 

“I heard you have a partner,” your friend said. His smile was tight and the grip on his utensil was even tighter. 

You forced a smile, “Yeah. Mithrun. He’s great.”

“Tell me about him.”

Where to start with Mithrun? It was a safe subject, at least. Your old friend knew about your relationship and would hopefully respect it. 

“Well, he’s—”

Your friend interrupted, “Is he handsome?”

Odd, but not unexpected. You nodded, “Yeah, I mean, he’s an elf so I don’t know if handsome is the right word. More like absurdly beautiful.”

Friend tensed in his chair. You saw his shoulders roll as if he was preparing himself for a fight. “Cool. Cool. Is he funny? Does he make you smile? Does he kiss good?”

You were definitely too trusting and naive. 

“Yes to all?”

“Is he good in bed?”

Your hands shot up as if you could physically repel the questions, “I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“You don’t want to talk about your boyfriend?” Friend asked, his eyes widening, “I thought you loved him. Is there perhaps trouble in paradise? You know you can always vent to me about it. I’m a shoulder to cry on.”

Had your friend always been like this? Surely not. You had good times together. There was that one time he made you laugh so hard you choked on water and he got so scared that he gave you the heimlich. Sure, his hands weren’t in the right place for the heimlich, instead landing on your chest, but—

Oh Lord. He’s always been this bad. 

With your food uneaten and a churning in your stomach, you began to stand up from your seat. “I don’t think this was a good idea, honestly.”

His eyes widened again, “Really? I think it’s a great idea. I came all the way to Melini to see you!”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. Listen, our lives have changed and I’m with Mithrun now and—”

Friend shot out of his seat, rounding the edge of the table before you could back away. His face was desperate and he was already breathing heavily. Nearby, the welcome bell rang as someone stepped into the cafe, but the usually pleasant noise was muffled to your ears. Friend put his hands where they didn’t belong, on your waist. That was Mithrun’s spot, that’s where Mithrun's hands went. He yanked you close and dread filled your chest.

This couldn’t be happening. 

His lips were on yours. You tried to pull away, your eyes squeezing shut. His grip was strong and your mind was racing with panic. Your hands landed on his chest to push him back and—

He ripped himself away. Or, rather, he didn’t rip himself, but he was ripped, like a yanked-off bandage. You opened your eyes to see Mithrun, and relief instantly flooded your system. 

But the calming, warm waters of your relief drained as you noticed the look on Mithrun’s face. He was naturally rather blank most of the time, yet at the moment, his good eye was narrowed, his mouth twisted into a scowl. He held your friend by his hair, ignoring the complaints and pleas and insults from the man. Without warning, Mithrun yanked on the man’s hair and began dragging him through the restaurant. It didn’t matter if your friend was bigger than your boyfriend, Mithrun had more strength and determination and sheer will to kick his ass. 

People gasped and watched with wide eyes. Someone panicked. Waiters and workers approached slowly. Yet, the situation resolved itself. Mithrun pushed the door open, the bell rang cheerily, and he yanked your struggling ‘friend’ out into the street. 

Your heart clenched. It felt as if someone had wrapped their cold fingers around your organs and squeezed. Your legs moved before you could give it a second thought, and you were out the door and chasing down your boyfriend instantly. 

Mithrun had dragged the man into a nearby alleyway and thrown him against the wall. Your ‘friend’ was on the ground, hands coming up to hold his aching head. Mithrun knelt down to wrap his fingers around his neck and—

“Stop right this instant!” You yelled. 

He froze, his eye widening. His hair was a mess and his pupils small with focus. Slowly, he stood up straight, taut like a bowstring being pulled. “Why?”

“Because I said so!” Your throat hurt from how desperately you’d yelled.

“That’s not a very good reason," he retorted through clenched teeth.

“Mithrun,” you seethed, “You cannot just grab people by their hair and drag them around.”

His expression darkened, “He kissed you. Against your will, I’m presuming.”

“Of course it was against my will!” You couldn’t help but wave your arms, a little manic and all-too-aware of the gathering crowd in the street behind you. “But that doesn’t mean you can brutalize him!”

Mithrun tilted his head and looked at you as if you were a child spouting nonsense. “Of course it does.”

“Make him pee his pants!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

“Pee his pants!” Someone else repeated.

“Pee! Pee! Pee!”

“Alright,” Mithrun agreed and turned his attention back to your ‘friend’, who was looking around as if he couldn’t believe what he’d been dragged into, terrified and shivering slightly. 

“Do not make him pee his pants,” you commanded, “I swear to the Gods I will—”

“Twist his dick!” Someone yelled.

Since when did the people of Melini get so violent? You glanced over your shoulder only to see that Fleki had arrived and was encouraging the act of dick twisting. Of course. 

“The ol’ dick twist!” She yelled again. 

Enough. That would’ve made you crack up under any other circumstances, but frankly you had no desire to see your boyfriend twist another man’s dick. Mithrun, being himself, was already kneeling down with the intent of twisting. You stomped up to him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him away. He allowed it, only making a light noise of surprise and stumbling after you. 

The further you pulled him, the less you could hear of the crowd. They expressed their disappointment, but seemed to be dispersing, unwilling to follow you and Mithrun into the darker parts of the alleyway. You rounded the corner of a building and noted that it was filled with crates and relatively clean. A perfect place to have a fight with one’s partner. 

Mithrun read your mind. He straightened up and pulled from your grip, then folded his arms over his chest and glared--- which wasn’t very different from his usual expression if not for the slight narrowing of his good eye and the hard set of his jaw. 

You returned the look. Unwilling to back down, you met his ink-black gaze and lifted your chin. 

The air thickened. It felt as if your blood had started to thrum, to vibrate within your veins. A rock lodged itself in your throat as you forced yourself to hold the gaze. No backing down. You refused. It had been a horrible day so far and Mithrun’s murderous intent did not make it any better. 

(That was a lie.)

(You didn’t want to acknowledge it, but you wanted him so badly.)

Eventually, Mithrun broke the silence, a rare act on his part in these kinds of situations. “Don’t tell me you actually care about him.”

Your blood thrummed a little higher and you felt a heat rise within your stomach, though whether that heat was from pleasure or anger you weren’t quite sure. “He was my friend at some point, though I’m not sure why. The problem here is moreso that you can’t drag people around by their hair and attack them.”

“He kissed you,” Mithrun hissed through grit teeth. 

“And that sucked, honestly,” you admitted, “but he’s just a pathetic loser.”

“Is this the same guy that’s been in love with you for years?”

You blinked in surprise, “What? I’ve only recently figured that out. How did you know?”

His gaze flattened, “Every story you’ve told me about him gave it away.” Of course. Your cheeks felt warm and you did your best to avoid his quickly intensifying stare. When you had no response, Mithrun continued, “Why did you hide from me that he was coming to visit? Did you like that he kissed you?”

An unpleasant flash of horror crossed through your chest and you gasped, “Of course not!”

Did he even need to ask that? It was absurd. Yet, Mithrun took one slow step toward you. It was the calculated approach of a wild animal on the hunt. Without realizing it, you took one step back. 

Another step forward, and you backed up. Two seconds later, your back hit the wall and Mithrun uncrossed his arms. He pressed his palms flat against the brick on either side of your head.

“I think,” his voice lowered, “that you subconsciously knew he wanted you, that you’ve always known, and that I would be angry at you going to meet him.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Heat flared in your lower abdomen and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. He was so close and you were so weak. 

“Why would I do that?” You managed to ask, though your voice was strained.

“Exactly,” Mithrun said, gravel in his tone. “Why would you do that?”

Curses ran through your mind. The one time you keep a secret from Mithrun, and it ends like this. You’re never doing that again. 

One of his hands left the wall and instead trailed up your waist, slow and savoring. His good eye flickered down to your neck and you had the urge to tilt your head as if to offer him a bite. The thought of him sinking his teeth into you, his body pressed against yours… You were on fire. 

Perhaps you might do this again, on occasion. It could be fun. 

The brick wall was cold on your back. Mithrun’s stare was colder. He leaned in, holding himself up against the wall with one hand, his other hand digging into your hips as if he wanted to sink his fingers through your skin and grip your bones. Harshly, he yanked you closer as his lips crashed against yours. He might’ve drawn a little blood with his teeth. You might’ve had the urge to melt into him. Your legs might’ve almost given out if he hadn’t held you up. 

The heat was consuming. Mithrun’s touch was rough, his kiss hard and laced with the intent to prove a very important point. Every inch of his being was focused on you in that moment. Every ounce of him was yours, and he was determined to prove that you were his in return. He broke the kiss but wasted no time in attacking your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin, teeth and lips scraping down the length and to the curvature where it was most sensitive. As you made an involuntary noise, his grip only tightened. 

And there it was, what you’d been waiting for. He sunk his teeth in. Heat pulsed through your body and you couldn’t help but gasp. You felt what might’ve been his lips upturning into a little smile against your neck. 

But Mithrun suddenly pulled away and blinked, and stared, and let out a soft exhale. The heat died like water dousing a flame. You stared back. He didn’t look ruffled in the least. His cheeks were pale as always, his eyes dull. The only sign that you’d been kissing was the light sheen on his lips. Meanwhile, you were a complete mess. You could only guess how you looked at that moment. Judging by how his eye flickered up and down your body, it was probably a sight. 

Mithrun pulled back. He stood up straight and walked away casually. 

“Where–” the words lodged in your throat and you had to force them out, “Where’re you going?”

He raised a hand as he walked, “The butcher actually is having a sale on pork. I need to get some before he closes.”

Without him to hold you up, you slowly sunk to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. 

No more secrets, you decided, feeling especially dead inside as you stared at a nearby crate. No more secret keeping. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[determinate-negation]

Zionism is an antisemitism. What do we mean by this? The Zionist has no particular disposition towards Jews qua Jews—if they are nationalists, they are embraced; if they are not, they are despised. Or further: if a Jew declares “I am not a Zionist,” the Zionist retorts, “then you are not a Jew.” Zionists demand absolute devotion to the national project, and, like the Christian supersessionists before them, attempt to replace Judaism as a religion, degrading it into yet another vulgar nationalism premised on a constructed racial identity. But even on these terms, “racial belonging” is not sufficient for the Zionist to consider someone a Jew. It is clear that the Zionist considers anti-Zionist Jews to be their enemy—over and above all others except the Palestinian, the former representing a fifth column in the war of extermination against the latter. Anti-Zionist Jews are regularly subjected to Zionist vitriol, which targets them specifically as Jews—“Kapo,” “self-hating Jew,” “Nazi,” “race traitor,” etc…[1]

But Zionism shares more with antisemitism than a hatred of certain Jews, because antisemitism is more than simply the hatred of Jews. It is a personal and social pathology, a manner of thinking, a form of reactionary modernity—one distinct from other forms of racism or xenophobia, though they share a family likeness. Zionism is an antisemitism, first and foremost, because it internalizes and recapitulates the very same European antisemitism that sought the extermination of the Jews in the Shoah. It is not only the pathology transposed into a new context, but the continuation of its tactics as well.

Because antisemitism is a mode of thought, however, it does not necessarily have a fixed target. The group which occupies the hated position is mutable. As Adorno and Horkheimer write, “depending on the constellation, the victims are interchangeable . . . so each of them can replace the murderer, in the same blind lust for killing, as soon as he feels the power of representing the norm.” Since the Nakba, it is the Zionist who represents the norm; the Palestinian has now taken their place as victim—the constellation has changed. If we are to understand Zionism, we must understand its relation to antisemitism, and not just to fascism—though, as George Habash told the Associated Press in 1984, “Zionism is fascism, exactly.” Further, considering the murder that always follows when antisemitism permeates the organs of state, and considering the genocidal slaughter which Zionism has wrought, we must say, to update a phrase from Moishe Postone: no analysis of Zionism that cannot account for the extermination of the Palestinians is fully adequate.

[honeyxbee]

Too Sweet ― Dabi

TW: NSFW, yandere themes, Implied non-con/dub-con, fem!reader, kidnapping, dacryphilia, corruption kink

words: 333

If there is a god, Dabi is certain that he must be one sadistic bastard. 

How else would such a sweet thing like you end up in the headquarters of the strongest villains in the country? 

He thinks it’s almost cute — the way you looked at him all worried when you stumbled upon him bleeding in an alley, how quickly you used your quirk to heal his injuries. You’re obviously not from Japan, you would have immediately run in the other direction if you were. 

It’s too bad, really. A girl like you doesn’t belong in a place like this. 

But who could blame him for knocking you out and taking you home with him? You’re so cute and sweet. Besides, your quirk could prove to be of use to the organization. 

“You’re such a crybaby,” Dabi grunts, slouched in a chair across the room. He tilts his head slightly, eyeing your trembling form in the corner. He didn’t even bother tying you up, it’s not like you’d get far if you tried to run, anyway. “…Y’know, you should be happy. You’re alive and unharmed, right?” He sounds almost bored, as if you’re just overreacting to a normal situation. 

But when you look up at him, all teary-eyed and trembling, his dick twitches slightly within its confines. You just look so innocent, and he can’t help but want to change that as soon as possible. 

He wonders if you’d give him that same pitiful look while he fucked you for the first time, if you’d cry and plead with him to stop or slow down. Even if you’re a virgin, he’s sure it wouldn’t take long for him to train you to take his cock while healing him up after missions ― make it second nature for you to climb onto his lap every time he gets back. 

Yes, that’s exactly what he wants to do, Dabi decides. You’re his now, after all.

And he’d hate to let you go to waste.

[alpaca-clouds]

So, which Drow House kidnapped Halsin?

Fuck it. This morning @adelar-plays posted this excerpt of the dialogue you can have with Halsin about his time as, well, a sex slave to the drow. tl;dr: If you play as a drow with a noble background in the game, you get some extra dialogue options and through it learn that the House Halsin had been captured by was not just destroyed, but is looked upon very poorly by other drow. Badly enough that working for any surviving members might get you into trouble.

And my very first thought about it was: Wait, was he captured by House Oblodra? (Aka: Araj's House?) Sure, Araj does not react to him or he to Araj (Or does he? Has anyone tried?), but Araj's dialogue does imply that she was fairly young when House Oblodra fell.

However, there are other options of course. Let me go through them all.

Now, what we know: Halsin is about 350 years old. This happened when he was a "young druid" (though your guess is as good as mine what he might consider "young"). And it definitely happened before the Shadowcurse was cast. So at the very least he escaped the Underdark more than a hundred years ago.

So, the drow house in question must have fallen between about 300 and 100 years ago. That much is fairly certain. So, between ca. 1190 and 1390DR.

Before I go into the list of possible Houses, let me quickly go into what the houses are:

The drow are a matriarchal people, and usually group themselves into Houses. The most apt comparison for those Houses - at least among the drow of Menzoberrazan - is basically mafia families, that are usually organized around one matriarch. Most of the Houses have their own little army, and just tons, and tons of slaves. (Look, in Menzo there is about 5 slaves for every drow living there. Most slaves are goblins or minotaurs, but there are also other races.) The Houses are in constant rivalry with each other to become the most influencial House of the city. And if you as a drow do not belong to a House, you are basically worthless.

So, which Houses were disbanded in the timeframe?

House Celofraie got destroyed in a conflict with House Agrach Dyrr in 1367 DR. We do not know the reason, but it was probably simply a rivalry between the Houses. The same goes for House Mlin'thobbyn and House Syr'thaerl.

House Do'Urden is one that we know a lot about, duh, because Drizzt is such an important character for the lore. The House was originally very important, but lost the favor of Lolth after Drizzt saved a normal elven kid on the surface. This led to the destruction of the House in 1338 DR.

House Elec'thil got destroyed at some point between 1327 and 1367 DR. The exact reason was never given.

House Bron'tej got destroyed in 1227 after a conflict with House Barrison Del'Armgo.

House Kenafin and House Horlbar were disbanded in 1383 DR, though the members of both Houses together formed the new House of Melarn.

House Srune'Lett nearly started a drow civil war and got subsequently destroyed in 1372 DR.

House Tuin'Tarl got destroyed in 1383 DR, after trying to attack House Kenafin and House Horlbar. In a revenge attack, obviously.

House Teken'duis had a rivalry with House Freth. When trying to assassinate their leaders, they failed - and in return the family fell into shame and was susequently executed by the ruling council of the city. This was in 1319DR.

House DeVir formed an alliance with some gnomes in an attempt to overthrow one of the other houses. Because Lolth hates everything not-drow, they lost the favor of Lolth. House Do'Urden took advantage of this and destroyed the House in 1297.

House Oblodra, as we all knew, allied with some illithids. Now mind you, this was seen as somewhat okay for about 2000 years, allowing some members of the house to develop psionic magic. Until some members of the members of the house got about the same idea that Gortash and Durge had: "Hey, if we use magic on the tadpoles and put them into people's brains, we can mind control them and take over the city." Which went about as well as it went for Gort and Durge, ending with the destruction of the House and Exile of all members in 1358DR. It should be noted that this is the one house, where Lolth took an active role in their distruction, sending demons to destroy them.

So, based on this information and the dialogue that was shared...

Again, I will disregard the entire "when I was young", because your guess is as good as mine to what Halsin considers "young". But the other information given there is more interesting: The fact that if you associated with the House, you might lose the favor of other drow/might actually get into trouble.

Because to me that tells me that the House in question was not destroyed in a rivalry. So we can disregard pretty much all of the Houses that were destroyed in a simple conflict with another House of the city without any further information given. It makes me assume that the House in question has lost the favor of Lolth, making them outcasts among the other Lolth-alligned drow.

That leaves the potential candidates of:

House Do'Urden

House DeVir

House Oblodra

With the vague possibility that it could also be Teken'duis. With them it is not quite clear whether they still have the favor of Lolth or not.

So, yeah. It could obviously also have been a not before named House in the city. But if it is among one of the Houses in question, it should be one of those three (or four).

Make of that what you want. One way or another, there is a chance that either Drizzt, Viconia, or Araj might have met him - even if they do not remember him necessarily. Given that to them he might have just been "another slave".

Bonus:

Since we know that he was with the House for 3 years, before he escaped in the chaos of the House being destroyed, we can also calculate Halsin's age at the time.

If he had been a prisoner of House Do'Urden, he would have been around 190 to 200 years at the time. Had he been a prisoner of House DeVir, he would have been between 150 and 160 years. And had he been a prisoner of House Oblodra, he would have been 210 to 220 years old. (Just rough estimates, as I do not assume he is exactly 350 years old.)

[rottiens]

WHERE YOU BELONG┊GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . (18+), cult leader getō x follower gender neutral reader. tension, mostly very intimate, confused feelings, handjob, mutual pining (getō is in denial). divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ WC. . 2.3K

Running a cult is not easy. 

Although Geto doesn't consider it a cult, really. If you were to ask him, you're sure he would define it with other words —an organization? perhaps— lessening the weight of the great power and responsibility he carries on his shoulders. 

Geto recognizes that he is a leader. He recognizes that people follow him, many admire and praise him as if he were a god walking in flesh and blood among them, however, despite his cursed technique, he recognizes that he is but a mortal, so he always tries to put on his best face, especially when he gives those brief speeches in the evenings updating his subjects on the progress or setbacks of his plans and tries twice as hard to treat those who are not shamans better. While this could be solved if he had the technique of a certain person who was in his past, from the way he describes it, that person could be worshiped as a god if he so desired.  

It is, to some extent, stressful. Geto knows, he is sure that what he is doing is the right thing for his people, even knowing the people he has "betrayed" for it, even knowing the people he left behind, he is sure of his vision and what he wants to achieve: the total and complete extermination of the non-shamans so that he can create the perfect world for his family.

Even though Geto assures that everyone is his family, and that all who sleep in the temple and follow his will are equal in his eyes. The truth is that he lies, he lies even to himself, because if he let anyone see past the mask of the good leader he wants to be, if he let even himself recognize that shadows of his past self remain within him, he would be screwed. 

The truth is that the sun can't be covered with a finger, you can't hide the truth forever and that is that there is someone of all his followers whom he holds in a certain degree of esteem far more than the others. 

"Tell them to come," Geto orders in a caramelized voice to one of the guards of the great hall, this one is there almost always and guards the entrances and exits whenever Geto must make an important announcement to the community. 

The brown-haired sorcerer started doing it on his own, without Geto asking him to, and his admiration is so dedicated that Geto let him be, not interrupting his task a single day since he started. There was no point in him having "guards," he didn't need them. 

Geto walks down the hallway unhurriedly, his footsteps from afar might even pass as lazy and dragging, almost as if someone is pushing him to walk from behind; his hands are inside the sleeves of his robe and his shoulders are slightly slumped downward from the weight of the long day he leaves behind. 

The sun sets, hiding behind the mountains and buildings of Japan. Painting the firmament a watercolor of reddish hues that trickle through the windows of Geto's personal bathroom, there is nothing there but him and the silence of the night. 

He makes his way to the bathtub where he lets the hot water run... "Geto?" your voice makes him close his eyes for a moment, almost at the same time a smile tugs at his lips, your presence is like ice on the lips of a thirsty soul. He sets his back straight to head towards where the voice comes from, Geto finds you in the door frame, wary and with your hands on your belly. "You called for me?" 

You were wearing one of the outfits he personally bought for you and it almost made him grin again. 

Now that his attention was completely on you, you curtsy, with a nod Geto asks you to enter the privacy of his bathroom which you promptly do. This was not a strange routine for you, so you walk to the shelves and pick up bath salts to place them in the water that begins to fill the bathtub, immediately the colorful bubbles are present, taking on vivid colors just like fireworks. 

You stand next to the bathtub, allowing geto to undress. You avoid making eye contact with him at all costs even though you know his eyes are on you, as always. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the blurry image of his naked body gently kissed by the sun, his strong arms and defined thighs, only at the moment when geto walks towards the tub do you dare to look directly at him, catching a flash of his exposed skin and the curly hairs below his pelvis.

His body sinks into the water taking up all the space, drops trickle over the edge until they touch the floor, waves and waves of water and foam come and go as geto makes the tub his new throne. 

You rush to stop the stream of water, without the echoing splash of the drops now all is silent except for your breathing which seems uncontrollable tonight. Every day you pretended you were normal about this, about being in his quarters, about sleeping in his bed, about having him so close. 

You feel lucky, you should be; anyone would wish to be in your place, yet there was something that felt strange to you. 

"What's wrong?" Geto's voice is a pin that breaks the cloud of your thoughts, he has his back hunched and his hair up in a bun, letting you freely brush his back with the sponge. 

You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it, thinking about choosing your right words. You know why you're here, but him? What reason did he have to keep you around?

"Why do you want to keep me close?" If you could see his face, you'd know he's smiling. Maybe not a smile, just a grimace that indicates he values your bravery. But you're busy tracing with the yellow sponge, a constellation of moles at which you've been fascinated a couple of weeks ago. 

"Does it seem strange to you that I enjoy your company?"

The question with which he responds makes you feel silly, in a way. Perhaps naive for asking, after all, you didn't know exactly what it was you meant. Your words come together forming an impenetrable tangle of thoughts. 

"I didn't mean that..." you immediately apologize, shifting your path to the width of his shoulders. Geto leans against the back of the tub again, the suds wetting your bare feet as it clatters on the floor.

“You're smart. Is that a good reason for you?” adds Geto suddenly, his hands emerge from the bottom of the tub to stand on the glistening rim and he gently throws his head back, a sign that he's liking the way you're rubbing his chest. “Have you been reading the books I bought you?” his chest vibrates under your fingers with the depth of his voice, a quick question stirring your memories.

“Yes,” you reply, rambling for a moment about the last few chapters you've read and at the same time, distracted a bit by the expanse of his torso, you play with the sponge squeezing it close to his neck only to admire the frothy drip fall. “Thank you,” you snap back to reality as you meet those honey eyes that antagonize your own.

Among the piles of books that Geto has gotten for you there is perhaps a little bit of everything. From ancient Japanese history, to modern poems and books on sorcery. You read most of the day after training.

As your hand moves down his abdomen and in turn hiding under the water, you feel him tense up, something in his jaw clenches and releases, only to shake his head afterwards and to give you the permission you need to touch him. 

You wash his feet, legs, in long delicate figures until you reach his thighs, avoiding at all costs the place where he needed it most because maybe you like to see him get desperate and grunt or maybe you just like to drag out your encounters a little longer. 

Geto was hard, as usual. Your fingers curl around the tip and this is enough for his legs to fail him, Geto drops his jaw just a little and his lips open slightly, you can't help but stare at him, admire how beautiful he looks in that state of weakness that only you can produce in him. His back hunches and a choked moan escapes his throat, bounces between the tiles until it hits your core directly; his reaction has your heart beating fast, makes your hand move with greater precision, anxious to keep making him feel good. 

His mouth opens in a soundless gasp, one of his hands clings to your wrist, the one out of the water and between spasms you feel him cum silently between your fingers and heavy foam that hides him. He breathes agitated, seeking to regain the perfect posture that always surrounds him. Short strands darken his gaze, at some point they managed to escape from the tight bun to fall free on his forehead and stick to his skin.  

In your search for clean towels the sound of splashing water interferes with your task. You turn your head to check that everything is all right to find Geto emerging from the foaming water, whose abrupt movement creates tides that crash against the edges of the neat bathtub and roll free to the floor.

Geto is completely naked in front of you, the water running off his body, straight to the floor. It's the first time you can admire him without foam or water in between so you inevitably look down at the floor, feeling unworthy to see him. Although you don't know it, he smiles, pleased to have this reaction in you. 

"Join me in bed." That's all he asks before leaving. 

As you pick yourself up off the floor you stumble over your own image in the mirror, embarrassment mixed with the adrenaline triggered in the moment can be read on your face, a cocktail that has your hands shaking and your stomach in knots. 

You hurry to empty the bathtub and clean the water from the floor, by the time you have finished, droplets of pearly sweat rest on your forehead so you take the opportunity to wet your cheeks with cold water to lower the temperature that seems to be burning you from the inside. 

When you come out of the bathroom you find Geto sitting on the bed, his body is covered by a lilac silk robe, his chest is bare exposing his skin and his chest covered with a scar or two, while his long hair is tied in a lazy ponytail. He is moving his fingers over the phone's keyboard but puts it away as soon as he notices your presence and, as you walk towards him, you wonder who he could be texting at this hour.

The mattress sinks with your weight, the sheets groan from the movements you make as you struggle to reach him. Sitting across from geto, he grins at you without showing his teeth, you lean back on his lap and he starts talking like he does almost every night while you get drunk on his beauty and how handsome he looks from this angle, the artificial smell of bath salts comes straight into your lungs mixed together with the oil he puts on his body before bed and the incense he lights by his bedside. 

He tells you about his current plans, his future plans and gives hints about his past, which he doesn't do publicly, all this while his deft fingers undo the buttons of your attire and your breathing increases with each new sentence.  

Every word out of your mouth comes with oxygen deprivation, you are gasping for breath as geto lingers between your thighs. He pats them, signaling you to open them for him and you do so without taking your eyes off his face, as Geto reaches the pinnacle of his speech your deep sighs become more noticeable in the room, these turn to gasps and then moans that culminate with him asking you to be good and ruin his fingers. 

Then he pulls them out from between your legs and takes them into his mouth. Your taste is like that of the pear itself, it is sweet and it is addictive, geto even thinks of the idea of how he would like to sink his teeth into you and finally mark you, let the others know who you belong to, maybe he will do it the next time he has an encounter with you. 

“Are you tired?” asks Geto, stroking your cheek softly, one thumb outlining the bone line.

"Just a little." 

Without adding words, he welcomes you to his chest and covers both of you with the sheets, his arms are strong chains that keep you bound to his warmth that emanates like waves behind your back, his breath is agitated on your neck, hot brushes on your skin each time he inhales and exhales your scent, making your poor stomach contract and by the way he pulls you tighter to him and kisses your neck before wishing you goodnight, you realize that geto would wake you up in the middle of the night because he needs to feel you close again, once is never enough.

[pucksandpower]

Hi! you might see multiple requests from me in the future. Anyway can I request a IG AU for carlos Sainz and reader where her best friend took a photo of her holding multiple positive pregnancy tests and is in shock and posted it to the readers story so everyone is in shock thinking that the reader is pregnant, carlos + other drivers think she’s pregnant too. But it just turns out the bestie is pregnant and the reader and her bestie unfollowed the besties husband so the friends can know about the pregnancy and surprise the besties husband. Im so sorry if that did not make sense it was long. Ignore this if you want❤️

if you’re also able to tag me if you do post this it would be amazing?❤️ have a wonderful week

Carlos Sainz x wife!Reader - Social Media AU

y/nsainz posted a story

*y/nsainz’s story is no longer available*

y/nsainz

Liked by carlossainz55, f1wagupdates, and 372,865 others

y/nsainz surprise! i’m not pregnant. while i want to thank everyone for the well wishes, those pregnancy tests belonged to a friend and i have no idea how they even ended up on my story. carlos and i hope to extend our family in the future but a baby sainz has not yet been conceived. that being said, the outpouring of support that we and our hypothetical child received makes us more certain than ever that any child we bring into this world will be surrounded by love ❤️

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carlossainz55 fingers crossed i find out about our baby before instagram does next time

y/nsainz you can’t hold that over me because there is no baby to find out about in the first place

carlossainz55 we can change that 😏

f1wagupdates the rollercoaster of emotions i just experienced 😵‍💫

carlossainz55 you and me both

y/nsainz

Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 425,938 others

y/nsainz baby sainz coming soon (for real this time)

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landonorris are you sure?

charles_leclerc maybe you should double check just in case, we don’t want a repeat of babygate

y/nsainz i’m pretty certain that the little feet kicking my organs every two seconds very much belong to the very real baby currently growing in me

f1wagupdates oh my god it’s really happening! we’re getting a baby sainz 😭

tifositalking i’m almost waiting for someone to jump out and yell “punked”

feralferrari right? i have trust issues after what happened the first time 🫣

carlossainz55

Liked by y/nsainz, scuderiaferrari, and 964,273 others

carlossainz55 fake baby sainz may have caused mass chaos but it also made us realize how much we want an actual baby sainz

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scuderiaferrari congratulations to you both! maybe we should have kept the baby clothes for a little longer

landonorris my godchild 🧡

y/nsainz says who?

landonorris please, i already got them a miniature version of my race suit

charles_leclerc congrats mate! uncle charles reporting for duty 🫡

carlossainz55 thank you, lord perceval! we will make sure to remember that when it’s time to change diapers

[kidconsky]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[viridescentelf]

In your debt - Final Part

Young Halsin x Reader

Hey guys! This is the final part of my Young Halsin saga lol. I may continue doing some other fics with this version of him, but I am quite frankly out of ideas for now.

I am not all too proud of this part. There are certain scenes that just don't hit as hard as I'd like, but I've been editing and tweaking for days now. I'm finally just accepting it is what it is and basta!

Original idea for young Halsin belongs to @ozumii-fucking-wizard! Please go to their blog and follow!

Warning: 18+, violence, general nsfw, explicit sex, oral and penetrative, rough

For previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

If you want a spicy song for "the moment", give this a listen. It's what I listened to while writing it lol

Word Count: 8k sorry lol

-----

Halsin listened to your plan and decided it was too risky. He rejected it in an exceedingly kind way, as his smile hypnotized you to refrain from arguing. You conceded, for now, but asked that he share his plans with you, once there were any. He agreed, reluctantly.

In the next few days, you noticed him speaking to two other druids in hushed voices. You surmised they were Frelma and Danan, the two he mentioned that would help him topple the looming drow and goblin threat.

They would hurriedly finish their meals and then gather at the edge of the forest. It was fairly obvious that they were doing something they shouldn’t, but you couldn’t tell if the Archdruid, or Anwen, suspected anything. If they did, they didn’t show their suspicions around you. Halsin joined Anwen in prayer every evening. You were allowed to observe. One time, you noticed Anwen cross her arms and eye her adoptive son from head to toe, while Halsin nervously sputtered something about “studying”. If you could tell he was lying, you were certain she could. But she didn’t press him, to your surprise.

Your healing was complete. You felt a surge of energy and strength within yourself after the final session with Halsin, but there was also a twinge of sadness. You enjoyed these tender bouts with him. The feeling of his warm hands upon you made you yearn for more. He would often lower his head and listen to your abdomen and a strobing image of him between your legs made you twitch and gulp down your lust, embarrassed that he may feel your body temperature rise dramatically.

You weren't certain the feeling was mutual. You thought you saw him blush a few times and try to hide it or noticed a devoted spark within his viridescent eyes as you complimented his duck figurines. The way he touched you, it felt different than how Anwen healed you. As if he was exploring.

You would talk for hours now. You taught him a few chords, he showed you what amazing things you could find in the forest – creatures, plants, food. He even taught you how to carve wood. He would sit behind you to guide your hands while you carefully sliced through the bark. His touch was so gentle. Some nights you two would sing together, that addictive laugh of his when he messed up a note or lyric; It almost made you swoon.

He loved learning about your travels, the city and misadventures you’d had. He confessed he was slightly bored of the forest and wanted to go on long explorations. He even joked about joining you – at least you thought it was a joke. The way he looked at you when he said “Good night”; Most evenings, it felt he had a difficult time leaving your side.

You couldn’t be sure: maybe he was just like this with everyone.

Halsin told you his current plan while you helped him forage one afternoon. They would track the goblins’ markings through the forest to the stronghold and sneak inside. He showed you the footprints peppering the muddy ground near the village entrance. Once there, they would eradicate the leaders, leaving the goblins without guidance and unable to organize. It sounded so simple, but once you pressed how three druids would manage to fight off a hoard of goblins and tactical drow leaders, he placated you that they were well trained. At the question “What if the goblins overwhelm you?” you noticed the druid’s eyes jitter across the floor. It looked like he hadn’t thought of that, but quickly shook off his reaction.

It was your last day together. Halsin decided he would leave with his group the following morning. Your healing had finished, after all. His task was done. You had no reason to stay in the druids’ village any longer. They all assumed you wanted to get back home – which was the furthest thing from your mind.

You had tucked the children into bed with a lullaby once again and found the druid waiting for you outside the barn. Leaning against a nearby tree, you sensed heightened hesitation on his end, unusual for him. You tilted your head as you watched him scan your features. Letting his arms drop, he approached you slowly. Your heart thudded against your chest.

“Y/N,…”, he looked deeply into your eyes as he grasped your hands within his. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you. I wish we’d met under different circumstances. Please know you are always welcome in the High Forest! Thaniel adores you, the children adore you, my mother thinks you’re a riot. And I… well…” You saw him swallow harshly and your insides started combusting.

WHAT? SAY IT!

The young druid squeezed your hands slightly, his jaw clenched.

“I..”

The courage he was building up collapsed suddenly. He dropped his head and let out a sigh.

“Thank you for everything. I hope Silvanus permits our paths cross again. If I survive tomorrow.”

His laugh felt forced.

Your face muscles unclenched and your brows tilted upwards. That was it? You couldn’t suppress the pulsating disappointment. It showed in your eyes. What did he stop himself from saying?

Halsin looked disappointed as well. He stared off to the side and let go of your hands, taking his time.

You stood in silence for a while. The unspoken truth hammering in your chest. His reluctance threw you off. Did he not feel the way you did, after all? Did he not want you?

Your own bravery shrunk within itself. The words you had prepared in your head for days were fogging fast.  

“Halsin,” you started with the first coherent thought, “Please let me come with you. The current plan is suicide.” This wasn’t all you wanted to say. But your tongue ignored you.

His eyes drifted over your face. He saw your own hesitation and blinked slowly.

“No. I can’t see you hurt again. And please, don’t worry. If things get too hard, we’ll get out of there.”

That last line was a lie. You could tell.

The druid stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace. Your breath shook as your face pressed against his strong chest. The scent of his skin drifted up your nose. You felt his chin rest on your head softly, as you two swayed in each other’s arms. The hug lasted a while, neither of you wanting to end it.

There was a brief tremor and he released from you.

“Oakfather preserve you”, he mumbled, looking down at you one last time before turning to leave.

You wanted to grab his arm and pull him back to you. But the fear of a second rejection was too deafening.

Why wouldn’t your mouth open? You wanted to scream that your wish was to stay with him. Your mind threw up every single want and need you imagined with him. But nothing dared leave your lips.

Halsin entered the barn and closed the sliding door without looking at you.

The tears fell from your eyes without warning. There was so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t muster up any remaining strength or courage to follow him.

Maybe this was for the best. You had a life back in Baldur’s Gate. And he had his here.

Perhaps this was the way it had to be. As shitty as it was.

You walked up the path slowly, the druids’ village behind you, trekking the road back to the city in the morning light. Your entire body resisted the travel home. You didn’t want to go back. Your stomach was in knots.

You loved the High Forest. The children. The druids.

You had feelings for Halsin. Whether you were brave enough to speak them into existance or not, they existed. Not only did you long for him for his eternal beauty, but the endless gentle nature that embraced you every time he gazed into your eyes. You couldn’t be certain what he chose not to divulge to you yesterday, but you regretted not telling him how you felt.

His plan was dumb. He was surely walking into a massive trap in the stronghold. Your plan was also dumb, but it guaranteed that the druids would have a higher chance of survival. It didn’t guarantee your survival, but you had waved Halsin’s critique of that small detail away the same way he brushed yours off.

The idea of never seeing him again bit your heart. You couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt. And he would definitely be wounded or worse if he went through with his current plan.

A snaking, disturbing thought wrapped itself around your head. What if he actually got killed?

You stopped in your tracks and gazed at the path that led back home. You couldn’t let that happen. He was a big brother to those sweet children. The forest spirit was his friend. His mother would be in shambles. You would be inconsolable.

This plan is dumb.

You felt your body turn on its heels and face the direction of the village once more. Not knowing what happened to him would be the worst kind of torture. The endless wondering if he was alright. The sleepless nights praying to all the Gods that he returned to the druids’ village safely.

It won’t work.

The tempo of your stride increased gradually, leaving gusts of dirt behind you, as you ran back. Halsin had showed you which footprints they were following. You knew in which direction they were heading.

I’m gonna die again.

You muttered to yourself as you hiked up a steep hill through the trees, the goblins’ tracks still visible in the dirt road. You spotted fresh larger prints and recognized Halsin’s boots.

You ran, holding the beautiful lute he made for you in your hand.

You found them deeper in the forest, stalking low through the high bushes, their pace steady. Halsin’s broad shoulders tensed as he led the way through the brush, flanked by his two companions—each of them with their eyes sharp, alert to the clashing and clanking of metal below in the clearing. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows that danced along the path. You could hear their hushed conversation as you approached, their words blending with the rustling of leaves.

"Halsin!" You called out, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest from the frantic, long sprint. Your face was the shade of a fire amber.

Halsin spun around, eyes wide with surprise as he saw you coming up the trail. His face softened, but there was an unmistakable flicker of frustration in his gaze: “What are you doing here? No! Get back to the city!”

You peered down at what they had discovered. A large camp stretched across a field of dead trees with a decaying ruin casting huge shadows on the hastily constructed ramparts. It emanated death, making the skin on the back of your neck prickle with fear. There was a moat around the camp with a rickety and long bridge stretching across the depth.

Gulping audibly, you returned your gaze to the group of confused druids who were waiting for an explanation. Halsin looked incredulous.

You planted yourself firmly in front of him: “I’m here to help. Your plan—it won’t work man, I just know it won’t.”

His jaw tightened, a low growl of annoyance escaping his throat: “And your plan? The one where you sacrifice yourself as bait for a horde of viscious goblins? That will work? It’s reckless, stupid, dangerou—”

“It’s the only way!”, you interrupted, meeting his intense, worried glare with unwavering determination, although your knees were giving in. Why was even his angered face hot?

“If I can lead the goblins away, it will give you and the others a real chance to take out the drow without being overwhelmed. Your plan leaves too much to chance. We can’t afford that, not with the children’s lives at stake.”

Halsin’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his voice strained: “No. I can’t let you. It’s too risky and if something happens to you again—” His words trailed off, the frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.

His two friends, who had been silent until now, exchanged glances. Frelma, a younger, halfling druid with sharp eyes and a playful expression, stepped forward: “Halsin,… I’m sorry mate, but maybe they’re right. Our current plan is… well not really a plan, is it? We’re kind of just jumping in and hoping for the best. This way…to draw the goblins out… it could give us a real advantage.”

Danan, a quiet but sturdy looking human, nodded in agreement: “It’s better than what you have been conjuring up as we go.” He turned his gaze to you, scanning you up and down. Your breath was already steady, despite having ran the entire way.

“You have good stamina. Definitely fast to catch up with us so quickly. What’s your plan for distracting them?”

You hastily flung your bag on the ground and rummaged in it. Out of the chaotic depths of your belongings, you pulled a couple glass bottles out. Holding them up, you explained: “I know, if you mix salt, scales and fungi together, it can make a decent explosive. Not too devastating but enough to cause confusion. I have salt in my pack. You guys should know how to find the rest, no?”

Frelma paused briefly then nodded, mumbling that she noticed drake markings at a nearby cave. Danan already started peering into the forest, assessing where he could ascertain the right mushrooms.

Halsin’s eyes darted between his companions and you, his internal struggle palpable. His shoulders sagged, the weight of the situation bearing down on him: “This is lunacy. You don’t understand what you’re up against here,” he said softly, almost pleading. “I don’t want to see you hurt again. Not for this.”

You got up from the ground, still holding the bottles in your hands. You took a step closer, your voice gentle but firm: “I know I don’t look it, but I’ve bolted my way out of horrible situations before. I can outrun them. You just take care of the leaders. This way, you guys can use the element of surprise to your benefit. If you go through with this without a real plan, it could be you who gets hurt, or worse. I can’t let that happen. Please… let me do this.”

The worry he had for you made your heart scream.

His gaze held yours for a long moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You could feel the raw emotion behind his steely exterior—because it echoed within your own form.

Frelma pressed the young druid further: “Halsin. We have to succeed today. If we lose, I do not want to know what will happen to the village.” Danan nodded in agreement. All three were staring up at the honey-haired elf, who kept his gaze firmly on you.

Finally, with a deep, resigned sigh, he spoke, his voice thick with emotion: “I don’t like this, not one bit… but… I guess you’re right. We cannot afford to lose.”

You exhaled, relief flooding through you as his words sank in: “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Halsin’s worry still clouded his features. He reached out, resting a hand on your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. Your red face turned purple.

“Run like hell,” he adjured, his voice deep and filled with a quiet intensity. “The forest needs you. The children need you… and so do I.”

You gave a small, determined nod, gripping the bottles in your hand. You leaned into his touch briefly, before he lowered his hand to turn to the stronghold.

You turned as well, ready to set your plan in motion while the other two went on to gather the necessary ingredients. Halsin stayed back to look for any shallow entryway. You cast one last look at him, before you ran after Danan and Frelma.

Night had fallen by the time you reached the outskirts of the goblin camp. Shadows stretched long across the ground, and the loud, raucous voices of goblins and drow filled the air as they feasted and drank within the ruin’s crumbling walls. The scent of roasted, sour meat wafted on the night breeze, mixing with the pungent stench of unwashed bodies and smoke. It made your stomach churn, both from nerves and disgust.

High above in the ramparts of the ruin, you squatted down, cloaked in the darkness. You moved carefully, staying low as you crept across the stone. The weight of the glass bottles in your hand was a constant reminder of what was to come. You felt your heart pound against your chest with a mix of adrenaline and fear.

What the Hells am I doing?

Below, in the ruin's hall, the three drow leaders sat at the head of the long table, their faces twisted in haughty disdain as they presided over the goblins, who sheepishly ate food scraps the drow had thrown on their tables. Two female warriors, clad in dark armor and bristling with blades, flanked a male drow in elegant robes. His sneering gaze drifted across the room like a spider surveying its web, full of contempt for his own underlings and their disappointing return. Dead goblin corpses littered the front. Their throats slit or heads caved in. You surmised the drow had made an example out of some of the goblins for their failure to capture the children. You recognized Izick, his body sprawled, bloody and discarded off to the side. So, he had survived the fall with you. But he hadn’t avoided death.

The goblins were too distracted to notice the approaching danger, but the drow remained sharp—dangerous even in their leisure.

Halsin, Frelma, and Danan moved silently, shadows within shadows, creeping through the underbrush and stone rubble surrounding the stronghold. Their presence was almost imperceptible, the tension building as they stalked closer to their target. You saw Halsin in a deep crouch near the rear of the ruin, his eyes gleaming golden in the moonlight, the instinctual urge to charge into the fray held back by sheer force of will. He waited, watching for your signal, his backside straining for a pounce.

It was your turn.

This is suicide, your brain screamed at you, but you ignored it.

The goblins below were too engrossed in eating scraps to notice you at the ramparts. Some were fighting amongst themselves for pieces of food, others drunkenly hollering at each other. It was the perfect storm of chaos, ripe for your plan to begin.

You gripped the grenade bottle tightly, sweat slick on your palm despite the cool night air. Every second felt like a lifetime ticking away. You counted the goblins below—too many to face in open battle, but just enough to chase after one tantalizing and idiotic distraction.

You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself.

I’m definitely going to die.

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time for reason. This had to work. It just had to.

It felt like days passed as you waited for your arm to obey.

Then, with a flick of your wrist, you hurled the bottle with all your strength into the heart of the camp.

Time seemed to slow as the glass bottle arched through the air, glinting in the dim light of the torches. It smashed against a stone near the goblins' fire pit, shattering into a brilliant flash of sparks and smoke. The chemical mixture inside ignited with a crackling roar, and suddenly, flames and choking fumes exploded upward. Goblins screeched in confusion, clutching at their eyes, as a burst of light and sound sent them into a frenzied panic.

The table overturned in the chaos, food and drink spilling everywhere. The male drow snapped to attention, his sharp eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What is the meaning of this?" he barked at the goblins, his voice dripping with venom.

But the goblins were beyond control now. The noise and flames had triggered their primal instincts—fight or flight. And when they caught sight of you, darting across the top of the ramparts, they made their choice.

“There!” one of the goblins howled, pointing at your fleeting form. “Get that rat!”

Like a wave crashing over rocks, the goblin horde surged toward you, claws and weapons raised. You didn’t wait to see the full effect; you bolted, heart pounding, lungs burning as your legs carried you across the stone ruins. The cacophony of angry goblins filled the air behind you, their shrieks and footfalls growing louder as they swarmed after you like a pack of feral beasts.

You leaped from the ramparts and rolled as you hit the ground, not daring to look back as you sprinted through the muddy camp, your feet pounding against the squelching earth. They were following you, as planned, but there were so many. The old bridge loomed ahead, dark and rickety as the wind swayed the frayed wood from side to side. The goblins’ cries echoed through the night as you darted towards the peninsula.

Back at the ruin, Halsin and his companions took advantage of the chaos. With the goblins now chasing you, the main hall was left vulnerable, the drow leaders standing alone with only a few goblin stragglers, stunned and confused by the sudden turn of events.

Frelma grinned, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as she crouched beside Halsin. “Well, that worked better than expected,” she whispered.

Danan grunted in agreement, his eyes locked on the drow. “It’s time.”

Halsin's hands flexed at his sides, his jaw tight as he watched the drow leaders—three of Lolth's chosen, arrogant and cruel, their dark eyes scanning the room for signs of the ambush they couldn’t see coming. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the primal fury begging to be unleashed. A flash of you, hurt and bleeding, flitted in his mind. But he shook his head. He needed to concentrate and fulfill the mission.

“Hold,” he muttered, forcing himself to wait a moment longer. He needed to time the attack perfectly. The last few goblins hastily followed the group after the male drow growled at them for their uselessness. You had done your part - he couldn’t let the drow sense what was coming. His fingers tingled with the surge of druidic power inside him, the need to transform almost overwhelming.

Finally, when the drow leaders’ attention drifted back to their overturned table for a brief second, Halsin gave a sharp nod to his companions.

With a single, fluid motion, Halsin burst from the shadows, his body aglow with golden light as his form shifted, muscles rippling as he transformed mid-leap. His bear form crashed into the male drow, sending him sprawling as Frelma and Danan surged forward, weapons flashing in the dim light. The two female drow drew their blades, their faces twisted into sneers as they prepared to fight back.

Frelma’s blade flashed in the moonlight as she darted around one of the warriors, each strike met with a sharp parry and a flurry of counterattacks. Danan fought the other, their weapons clashing with a thunderous ring, the drow’s face twisted in a sneer of amusement. She was toying with him, each movement graceful and calculated, a predator circling its prey.

Halsin, now in his bear form, roared as he slammed into the leader, sending him crashing against a crumbled wall. The drow hit the ground with a sickening thud, and for a moment, his body lay still. Halsin didn’t have time to confirm the kill—Frelma’s pained grunt drew his attention.

The female drow were vicious. Agile and brutal, their movements were precise and deadly. Frelma barely avoided a swipe to her throat, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she dodged and weaved. She was tiring. Danan was faring no better, his opponent driving him back step by step, her twin blades a blur of death in the dim light.

With a growl, Halsin charged, shifting back into his elven form. He unsheathed his staff, the wood crackling with druidic energy, and swung it down with the full force of his fury. It caught one of the drow off guard, knocking her off balance and giving Frelma the opening she needed. Frelma lunged forward, her blade finding purchase in the drow’s side, and the dark elf let out a hiss of pain, her sneer faltering.

Danan managed to regain his footing, pressing his attack as the second female drow turned her attention to Halsin. Her cold, red eyes gleamed with hatred, and she launched herself at him with lightning speed, her blades aimed straight for his chest.

But Halsin was ready.

He sidestepped her, his staff spinning in a fluid arc, knocking one of her blades from her hand. She snarled, but before she could recover, he brought the end of his staff crashing down on her wrist with a sharp crack, disarming her completely. Frelma and Danan closed in, ready to finish the fight.

Halsin’s gaze flicked toward the male drow, still crumpled against the wall. He didn’t move, his body seemingly lifeless.

You tore across the rickety old bridge that connected the ruin to the High Forest beyond. The ancient wood yawned angrily beneath your feet, swaying alarmingly with each step, but you couldn't slow down. The horde of goblins was right behind you, their screeches growing louder as they stormed across the bridge in pursuit. The clanging of their blades on their armor punched into your ears, their claws scraping against the tired wood.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to keep running. Just a little farther.

Once you reached the other side of the bridge, you skidded to a stop, panting heavily as you pulled the second grenade bottle from your belt. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw the goblins—dozens of them—crowding onto the bridge. It groaned under their weight, the ancient wood splintering at the edges.

This was it.

You hurled the bottle at the center of the bridge, your aim true. The glass shattered against the wood, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then, with a deafening explosion, the bridge erupted in a shower of fire and splinters. The force of the blast eviscerated the structure, sending chunks of wood and metal flying into the air. The goblins let out terrified shrieks as the ground disappeared beneath them. You watched as they tumbled into the depths below, their bodies swallowed by the darkness of the ravine.

The bridge was gone. The goblins were no more.

You collapsed to your knees, gasping for breath, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over you. The plan had worked. The horde was dealt with. You had made it out alive. You stared at the tower, anxiety gripping your throat. Was Halsin ok?

Back in the ruin, Halsin felt the rumble of the second explosion vibrate in the distance.

As the other female drow fell to the ground, defeated, Halsin’s attention snapped back to where the male drow had lain motionless. His heart fell to his stomach. The body was gone.

Halsin’s eyes widened in horror: "No..."

A surge of cold dread shot through him as he turned toward the entrance of the ruin. His mind raced, piecing it together—Misty Step. The male drow hadn’t been incapacitated. He had been waiting, biding his time, and now…

Was he going after you?

Halsin’s stomach twisted into knots, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow.

“I need to go!”, he barked at Frelma and Danan, urgency flooding his voice, “He’s going after Y/N!”

Without waiting for a reply, Halsin sprinted toward the exit, his legs pumping furiously as he raced through the ruin and out into the night.

He dashed through the mud with fire burning in his legs, stomach and throat, inconsolable at the sheer possibility that you could be harmed. Reaching the edge of the camp, embers of the explosion floated through the darkness and the charred wood smell invaded his nostrils.

Seeing the young druid on the other side, you cheered loudly, jumping up and down with your fist pumping into the air.

Halsin stared across the deep crevice before him at your gleeful hopping form, excessive concern stretched across his face. He couldn’t jump the distance in his human form.

Where was the drow?

You couldn’t see that far, so you didn’t notice how worrisome his expression was. You were so happy to see him alive and unharmed. Your plan had worked. The ecstasy of success waved through you and left you distracted. Your loud yelps of joy deafened the surroundings.

A whooshing sound reverberated behind you. Mist flowed between your legs as you landed from another jump. A harsh tug of your hair yanked you against your will back into the air. You kicked with your feet, but the drow held his arm outstretched, clasping a clump of your tresses. The pain made your spine contort.

“Y/N!!!”, Halsin shouted across the moat, his panicked voice repeated through the stone. The young druid’s body glowed golden, as he tried to transform.

“Don’t move…”, the drow’s sharp voice hissed to the druid, as he held a dagger to your side. “Or I’ll gut them.”

The pointy, harsh edge of the blade stuck in your belly. It hovered there dangerously close to your recovered area. You tried not to squirm too much in fear of being punctured, but the pain from your cranium made you move involuntarily.

Halsin roared with fury, the golden light flashing low: “Let them go!”

The drow sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. He dragged you closer, the blade still teasingly pressed against your abdomen: “You druids... you're all the same,” he growled, voice dripping with contempt. “Always talking about balance, harmony, and the natural order, like it makes you righteous. But what do you really know of power? You hide in your groves and forests, pretending to be one with nature, while the world burns and bends to those with ambition.”

He jerked your head back further, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair, yanking your neck at an awkward angle. “Slaves, like these filthy children you’re so desperate to protect, are a necessity for those of us who understand true strength. They’re tools—nothing more. Yet you lot," he glanced at Halsin with disdain, "would sacrifice your lives for them. Pathetic."

His eyes gleamed with malice, the grip on the blade loosening just slightly as he gestured toward Halsin. “Because of your meddling, I’ll have to replace what’s been taken from me. Those ugly children? They’d have made fine thralls, but I suppose I’ll just have to make do with this one instead. And I’ll return with more, fearsome soldiers.”

The blade wavered precariously as he waved it in the air, illustrating his sick vision. His attention drifted more and more toward his rant, the gloating feeding his arrogance. “My people—we understand how the world truly works. We take what we deserve, we own, we dominate. That’s the natural order.” He flicked the blade dangerously close to your ribs again, but it was clear—he was more interested in hearing the sound of his own voice than paying attention to his hostage.

Through the haze of pain and fear, you could feel it—the rhythm of his speech, the looseness of his grip, the blade no longer pressing with the same deadly certainty. His monologue flowed, each word laced with bitterness, but it was also growing sloppier, as his arrogance overtook his caution.

“Your little rebellion here means nothing. You’ll all fall to us, one way or another. No one stands against us and lives to—"

You didn’t let him finish.

In a surge of adrenaline, you kicked your legs up, swinging your foot with as much force as you could muster. The heel of your boot connected hard with the blade in his hand, sending it clattering across the stone ground. The drow yelped in fury and pain as the force of the blow snapped his fingers back, the sickening crack of bone ringing in your ears. He released his grip on your hair with a sharp intake of breath, stumbling back in shock and agony, clutching his broken extremities.

You fell on your back with a deep thud. Letting out an involuntary grunt, the fall had momentarily immobilized you, as your body tried to assess the damage. Your spine ached all the way down to your tailbone, which pulsated with a cruel sting. Your groans echoed through the crater, joining with the drow’s wails.

You heard the clattering of steel against stone again. Opening your eyes, they filled with fear as the drow walked towards you, blade back in both hands with two fingers bent in the wrong direction. He thrust up in the air to pierce your chest. You crawled backwards instinctively, but he was too fast. His biceps flexed: he was about to swing forward.

A giant, brown beast collided into him from the side, having jumped across the abyss. The bear roared with a deep, thunderous bellow, a powerful and resonant sound that rumbled like distant thunder, carrying the raw force of its primal strength. It was a familiar intonation; you had heard it the first day at the druids’ village. The rage filled small eyes gleamed in a green shade.

Its massive paws pummeled the dark elf, who was unable to do anything other than take each mighty strike. The bear hovered over you, the brown fur tickling your arms and legs as he continuously slammed down on the adversary. The crunching and cracking noises made you wince, holding your hands over your face.

The strikes continued for a while, until the bear let out another mighty roar. You dared not look at the result of the violence, but the drow didn’t move anymore.

His beastly form started glowing with a golden hue as he faced you lying beneath him. You peered at him through your fingers.

The bear transformed into Halsin, who hovered over you panting with exhaustion and excitement. Your breath was similarly fast, exhaling the fear and burning sensation in your legs out as you stared into each other’s eyes.

Both of you let out soft chuckles. You had done it. The village was safe. The children were protected again.

His eyes twitched back and forth from your eyes to your lips as your puffing synchronized shakily. Your heart was hammering against your chest. The jade hue in his eyes twinkled with a hunger you hadn’t seen before: it was the same craving you had had ever since you met him. He was waiting for something. Without really thinking, you nodded quickly.

He fell forward into your lips. You let out a moan as he kissed you hard and his body pressed into your own. He kept himself poised above you with his strong arms, but his leg pushed yours apart so he could press himself into you. Your tongues lapped each other up, the fiery taste trickling down your throat and intensifying the throbbing in your loins.

The intensity of your long-suppressed desires finally broke free. The mixture of happiness that he felt the way you did intertwined with the drive to please him. Both of you almost died. You had survived. You wanted each other now more than ever. You were both equally happy to see each other unharmed and could not wait any longer. There was no moment to think about timing.

Halsin's strong hands caressed your face, his touch gentle yet urgent. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. The heat between your bodies grew, months of unspoken longing pouring out through fevered touches and passionate embraces.

Halsin's lips trailed down your neck, eliciting soft gasps as he found sensitive spots. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with reverence. You arched into his touch, fingers tangling in his hair as waves of expectation washed over you.

Clothing was hastily shed, both of you eager to feel skin against skin. Halsin's muscular form pressed against you, his warmth enveloping you completely. His touch was electric, igniting sparks wherever his fingers grazed. You traced the planes of his beautiful chest, gazing entranced at his pristine physique - a vision you had only been imagining since you met him. The discarded clothes lay forgotten by your sides.

His eyes filled with primal urge, eyeing your sweat speckled body he had been carefully mending for a long time. You gazed at each other, panting from the exhaustion of the heist and the anticipation of what needed to happen between you.

The druid scooped you up in his strong arms, carrying you away from the grisly scene to a more secluded spot against a large oak tree. His lips never left yours as he gently set you down, then pressed you up against the rough bark. The contrast of the tree's coarse texture against your back and Halsin's warm, smooth skin against your front sent shivers through your body. His large hands squeezed fleshy parts of you as you gasped into his ear. Halsin growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating in your spine and making the flame within you burn blue.

Halsin's lips traced a sizzling path down your neck as he gripped your ass. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tree. The rough bark scraped your back. He grasped his length and held it up against your entrance, staring at you with impatient craving. Yet, he waited for your approval. You hastily nodded your head and spatt out a breathy “Yes”, which was interrupted by him thrusting deep into you. Your head fell back as you cried out - he was so big. He dared not enter you fully, thrusting only half of himself into your tiny body.

He held you up, easily, kissing the side of your neck to comfort you through his wild and frantic punctures.

Your bodies moved together in a primal rhythm, finding a perfect synchronicity. Halsin's muscular form rippled with each thrust, his face a mask of passionate intensity as he grunted deeply. You clung to his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He carried you down to the forest floor, laying you gently on a bed of soft moss. Halsin hovered above you, his jade eyes dark with desire as he drank in the sight of your form. His hands roamed reverently over your curves before he lowered himself to you. His tongue tickled you and your back arched up aggressively into his mouth. You lay a hand on his honey hair and pushed him down into you. He obliged and licked faster, feeling you jerk and twist under his work. He chuckled teasingly into you, as he felt you get close.

“Not yet,…” he purred, staring up at you.

You rolled on top of him before he could continue teasing. You positioned yourself over his quaking cock.

Your thighs trembled with anticipation as you hovered over him. He gripped your hips, steadying you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you took him in, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed still, reveling in the sensation of being so intimately connected. The druid’s chest rose and fell rapidly in the golden hue, as he fought to maintain control. You placed your hands on his broad chest, feeling the fast beating of his heart beneath your palms.

Then, with a roll of your hips, you began to move. Slowly at first, savoring every sensation as you rose and fell upon him, feeling him slide inside you was a bittersweet sensation, as your body trembled with each thrust. The stretching of your walls to accommodate his immense size sent a strange concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through you. It was almost overwhelming, the way he filled every inch of you, pushing boundaries that seemed impossible. But you couldn't deny the rush of excitement and ecstasy that came with it, making you shiver and arch your back in pure bliss. It was an experience like no other, one that left you breathless and wanting more.

Halsin's fingers dug into your flesh, guiding your movements as eager groans rumbled from him. You thought you heard him say something, but were too engulfed in riding him fiercely to activate your hearing.

He held you still with his strength and thrust up into you.

Your bodies synchronised again, each roll of your hips met by his upward drive. The forest around you seemed to pulse with energy, leaves rustling and branches swaying as if nature itself was swept up in your passionate union.

With a low growl, Halsin suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. He kissed you deeply, hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough. Then, in one fluid motion, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees.

You felt the soft moss beneath your palms as Halsin positioned himself behind you. His large hands caressed your back, tracing the curve of your spine before gripping your hips once more. You shivered, feeling his hardness pressing against your dripping hole. As he drilled into you, you felt him lean over your back, his towering form much larger than yours. His calloused hand softly wrapped around your neck, pulling your face up towards him.

You stared at each other as you let out deepseated moans, as you came all over him. Seeing the rapture flood through you, made him pound into you even harder. Halsin's thrusts became more urgent, his breathing ragged as he neared his peak.

You could feel the tension building in his body, muscles taut with exertion and pleasure.

With a final, deep thrust, Halsin let out a primal, inhuman roar. His body shuddered as he spilled himself inside you, his warmth flooding your core. You felt his cock pulse within you, drawing out the last waves of your own climax.

For a moment, you both remained still, panting heavily as the intensity of your shared release washed over you. Then, gently, Halsin eased out of you and gathered you into his arms. He lay back on the soft moss, cradling you against his broad chest.

You nestled into his warmth, feeling the rapid beating of his heart gradually slow, both your breathing matching each other.

Your bodies eased into the softness of the ground and the druid and you let out highly needed laughs.

As your giggles subsided, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. The forest around you seemed to hum with contentment, the gentle rustling of leaves and distant chirping of nocturnal creatures creating a soothing symphony.

Halsin's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his broad chest, listening to the strong rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You know," Halsin began, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, "I've been wanting to do that for quite some time now."

You chuckled softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "Oh really? And here I thought I was the only one pining away."

His jade eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. "Pining, were you?”

“Fuck yes. When you first found me in the forest, I thought you were a God about to take me up to the Heavens. Couldn’t believe someone as handsome as you was semi-mortal.”

Halsin chuckled and pet your hair: “Even close to death, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Although I don’t like remembering seeing you like that. I am still beyond thankful to Silvanus that you pushed through that vile injury.”

You remembered something as he spoke of your first encounter.

“Hey, you were kissing me when I was unconscious, that’s a bit rude isn’t it?”

He laughed again: “I did not, I was bringing you back from the dead, mind you! Simple first aid, but effective.”

“First aid, sure.”

Halsin's eyes twinkled with mischief as he gazed at you. "Well, if you'd prefer, next time I find you half-dead, I'll just leave you be. Wouldn't want to be accused of taking advantage."

You snorted, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh please, as if you could resist these lips, even in a coma."

He giggled sweetly, the sound rumbling through his chest again and into yours. "You're right, I couldn't. Though I must say, you're much more enticing when you're conscious and not bleeding out. You have a crazy fascination with tempting fate. I must say I’ve never met someone like you before."

"Flatterer," you teased, tracing idle patterns on his skin. "I bet you say that to all the bards you rescue from certain doom."

Halsin's expression softened, his hand coming to cup your cheek. "Only the ones who’ve stolen my heart.”

You could've fainted right then. Your cheeks flushed even more.

He grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear: "You came charging into our village, disrupting our peaceful way of life with your enchanting melodies and irresistible charm."

"Ah yes, because nothing says 'irresistible charm' quite like being half-way across the finish line of life.”

Both of you laughed together for a bit longer. You reminisced about the insanity of your unsually successful overthrow of the drow base. Halsin mused over how he was going to explain any of this to others’ in the village, especially the Archdruid. You promised to take the blame, it was your idea anyway.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the forest canopy, you and Halsin reluctantly disentangled yourselves from each other's embrace. The cool morning air raised goosebumps on your skin as you gathered your discarded clothing, stealing glances and sharing soft smiles as you dressed.

Halsin's companions, Frelma and Danan, had long since returned to the village, trusting their leader to get home. As you made your way back through the forest, Halsin's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with your own. The warmth of his touch sent a thrill through you.

The forest seemed different now, more alive and vibrant than ever before. Perhaps it was the afterglow of your encounter, or maybe it was the newfound connection you felt to this place and the man beside you.

As you and Halsin approached the druid village, you could hear the Archdruid's booming voice even before you saw him. His face was contorted with fury as he paced back and forth, gesticulating wildly. Hesitating slightly, you two walked through the entrance and were met with dangerous bellows, insults and worried eyes. Dafydd hit Halsin over the head a few times with his staff, while Anwen exasperately held your shoulders to check you for any injuries. Ultimately, they were right to be angry and concerned. The elder druid placed the blame on her son, although you insisted you were the main plotter (she didn’t believe you). You were certain they would ban you, yet they showered you in flower crowns and good mead. Halsin was eventually allowed into the festivities, after promising to clean up cow dung for 6 months as punishment.

You couldn’t stay in the village, as you had no desire to convert to druidism. Relucantly you returned to the city.

You vowed to come visit often, making your trips to the forest known, so he could see you. You promised to convince Anwen that Halsin could join you on your travels one day. Although that conversation had to wait a long while.

With each visit, you found little baskets of berries from the children and a newly whittled duck figurine that made you smile under your usual tree.

And every time your form became visible upon the horizon of the village, emerging from the forest path, Halsin’s eyes lit up and beamed at you.

[thesassypadawan]

Distracted (Master Anakin x PadawanFemReader)

Summary: During a sparring match with your master, you get just a little distracted.

Warnings: 18+, because all the lovely smut. Size difference, age gap (about 20 years), and Ani’s magic fingers. Padawan reader is of age.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber. “All right, padawan of mine, why don’t you show me what you got,” he said with a sly smirk.

“With pleasure, master,” you practically purred, igniting your own.

It was hours ago that Ani and you had started your friendly sparring match. You were both panting and sweating, you more so than him. And, despite the feeling of exhaustion setting in, you continued to dodge his attacks. Striking at every possible opportunity, even though your arms were growing heavy.

Pausing for a moment, you stared intensely into each other’s eyes. Sensing his own fatigue, you boldly go in for a feint attack. Thinking you would be able to finally finish him off and end this. “It’s over, old man!”

But Anakin being Anakin… With a powerful pull from the force, your saber was torn from your hand and sent sailing across the empty training room. Effectively catching you off guard and allowing him to easily pin you to the mat.

“Care to say that again?” He playfully scolded, a look of satisfaction on his handsome face. One of his big hands wrapped around your wrists, the other with a firm grip on your hip.

“Get off me,” you whined, wriggling beneath him. “You’re too heavy, you’re squishing me.”

Leaning down, he teasingly brushed his lips against yours. “Only when you address me properly, little one.”

You wanted to kiss him back so badly, but the chance to give him a taste of his own medicine was too great. And Ani always said that you should use every opening to your full advantage. “Fine,” you pouted. “Get off me…daddy.”

That certain spark flashed in his eyes. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” he chuckled, beginning to shift his weight off you. “Now, let’s go-”

With the combination of a swift movement of your limbs and a quick summoning of the force, you turned the tide. “Losing your touch?” You asked coyly, enjoying the sight of his large form sprawled out under you.

“You think so?” Anakin muttered, running his hands up and down your thighs. “Guess, I’ll just have to show you how wrong you are.” He emphasized his point by cupping and squeezing your breast tenderly.

A soft whimper escaped you as you felt the warmth build between your legs. Craving more, you began to slowly grind yourself against his very hard and very prominent bulge. “Daddy…”

“Naughty girl,” he groaned, rolling his hips upwards. “I should punish you for such behavior, but I think I’ll reward you instead.”

In an instant, you found yourself pinned once more. His organic hand resting on your needy pussy. Rubbing it gently, making you squirm and mewl desperately. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” He skillfully slipped his hand under your skirt and past your lacey underwear, fingers brushing against your clit. “I’m going to take real good care of you.”

Shivering at his touch, you let out a loud moan. That was quickly silenced with a searing kiss. “Sshhh, got to be quiet…don’t want the whole temple to hear you scream like that.”

Part of you really could care less. In fact, the very thought of someone discovering the two of you like this excited you even more. But you were daddy’s little girl, and you didn’t dare to disappoint. “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s my sweet baby,” Ani cooed, sliding a finger into your sopping cunt. “Unless…” He slowly began to pump in and out. “You do want everyone to know that you belong to me…”

Another thick digit and you were practically a writhing, hot mess. Gripping tightly to his broad shoulders, clawing at him frantically as you bit down on your lip.

“And only me,” he growled, the sound deep and husky. All the while curling his fingers teasingly against that wonderful spot deep inside of you. Trying to make you cry out as his pace quickened.

It was all so blissfully overwhelming and yet you still hungered for… “More,” you whispered, gazing up into his blue eyes pleadingly. “I need more.”

“More, huh?” He added a third finger, his thumb pressing down and rubbing small circles on your neglected nub. “All right, whatever my little girl wants…she gets.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you were so deliciously stretched. The burning ache made you clench around his digits, your release so painfully close. “Da-Daddy, m-may I…”

“Cum?” Anakin sped up more; his gloved hand covering your mouth, anticipating what would happen next. “Yes, you may…cum.”

Pounding hard into you one last time, he drove his fingers even deeper. Your back arched off the ground and your vison filled with stars. Your cries muffled as wave after wave of raw pleasure crashed over you.

Once your breathing returned to normal, he removed his hand from your mouth and his fingers from your warm pussy. Groaning as he licked them clean of your slick. “Come on, angel baby,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go finish this match in our quarters.”

“But, Skydaddy,” you huffed. “I want you right here…right now.”

Scooping you up off the ground, he effortlessly tucked you under one arm. While using the force to bring both sabers to his free hand. “Hey, now,” he swatted your butt with them. “None of that sassiness or else you’ll get a good spanking.”

Sometimes you forget how strong he really was. “Promise?” You giggled, smiling up at him.

A wide grin crossed Ani’s face and he gave you another swat. “Yeah…I promise.”

[mncxbe]

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: reference post; @soullessfyodor here's my take on Fyodor with a guardian angel♡// ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: delulu, Fyodor's a bit manipulative + has a God complex, dubious relationship between them, possibly inaccurate biblical lore

he knows you're there, knows you exist. growing up in a religious family, he's always been told that his guardian angel was watching over him, making sure he was safe from any danger. but trying to interact with you never actually occurred to him

you showed yourself to him for the first time when he was around ten. he'd caught a terrible flu and his already weak body could barely handle it. so you did your job, you healed him and ever since you visited him more and more often

it was against the rules but what could you do? he was a quiet kid, a bit too intelligent for his own good and you just had a feeling that there was something wrong with him

your suspicions were confirmed once he started joining different criminal organizations. you tried to keep him on a straight path but there wasn't much you could do to change his resolve

"Don't worry, my dear angel, I am quite certain that the purity of my soul is untainted." he smiled as he packed his few belongings in a suitcase.

"I'm begging you, Fyodor. Don't go to Japan it's a bad idea–" you protested but he wouldn't have it.

"I'm not keen on using this argument but I am an adult now, angel. I can make my own decisions"

"You're still acting like a kid" you huffed, fluffing your wings, causing a few feathers to fall on the bed covers. Fyodor chuckled, gently seizing your chin "And you're still acting like my mother. There's no need for you to be so concerned for me"

ever since Fyodor moved to Japan to pursue his plans the relationship between you changed. Fyodor became more secretive, but you still didn't give up on your routine– every night, Fyodor played the cello for you or read you a few pages of his book. those were his little ways of showing you his gratitude for always being there for him

after a few months you could sense a deeper change. he barely talked to you about his plans and every time you tried to voice your concerns he deflected

"My, my, angel. I told you before there's no reason to worry about me." smiled the man, motioning you to join him in bed.

"I'm serious, Fyodor. I can't keep covering up for you. You're killing people don't you realize your actions have consequences for me? And for you too" Fyodor simply laughed, pulling you next to him as he traced the outline of your wings with his fingertips "Am I upsetting the higher ups?" You nodded and his grin widened. Cupping your face with his free hand, Fyodor brought you closer to him.

"Why should I care about that, my dear? After all, I am a God myself, aren't I?" Before you could reply Fyodor placed a kiss to the corner of your lips"You know I'm right."

"You shouldn't say such things"

"You've let so many things slide, angel, I'm sure you can excuse some mild blasphemy"

and you did let it slide, and other things too. there were many things he should've been sanctioned for but you swept them under the rug– no matter what atrocious things he did you still believed he was the sweet Fyodor you once knew

it didn't take long until you lost your place among the angels and were sent to hell. call it divine judgement, or karma, but covering Fyodor's endeavours for so long did have a consequence

as a fallen angel you could still come to earth whenever you pleased but for a while you avoided Fyodor. you were mad he was cruel enough to let this happen. all of this could've been avoided if he would've just listened to you

still, it didn't take long for you to return to him. after spending so much time together you couldn't just ignore him. especially not when you could hear him calling out your name through the endless night in hell

"So, my angel, are you getting accustomed to your new home?" he taunted, his lithe fingers dancing along the cello's cords, his music echoing through the dim-lit room.

"Don't you dare joke about that" you hissed "How did you find out in the first place?"

"I figured, since you stopped visiting for a while..." Taking note of your silence Fyodor sighed, putting down his instrument "I do appreciate your sacrifice, angel. Your devotion is truly remarkable"

You scoffed again at his words, feeling your blood boil "You should be ashamed of yourself. You condemned me to a life in hell."

"You could always come and live with me. You're more than welcome in my humble home" he said in a honeyed vocie as he got up from his chair and moved towards you. He kneeled in front of the futon you were laying on and held your hand. "My dear angel, forgive me. If what I doing wasn't this important I would've given up on my goals. But it can't be helped"

You sighed, running your thumb along his knuckles "Such important plans yet you cannot tell me anything about them."

"Of course not" he smiled "Not now at least, but one day will come when I'll tell you everything. Until then, you'll have to trust me."

You remained silent for a while, a heavy tension settling between the two of you before he spoke again. "You lost your God and your status, but I assume you still have your powers."

"You're correct"

"Then stay by my side, look over me like you always have" The man rose to his feet and leaned closer to you, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear "I can give you a purpose. That's what you need, right?"

"So you're asking me to taint my soul even more? To give up on my principles, on everything."

"You were already deemed a sinner, my angel. You've fallen. I'm offering you a way to rise back up– a new god, a new purpose." Striaghtening his back, he bowed, holding a hand in front of you. "So what do you say?"

You weren't stupid– it was obvious what Fyodor was after. He just needed your powers to keep him alive. You were just another tool, another pawn. But it was the best deal you could've asked for, so you hesitantly accepted his hand. Fyodor smiled, helping you up from the couch before he placed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

"You and I, my dear, are going to accomplish great things together"

[a-very-tired-jew]

Jew face in activist spaces

If you have followed the I/P War at all then you are well aware of organizations like JVP handing out kippahs and other Jewish garments to members of their protests. Other people, and myself, on this site have documented JVP's activities as New Age Messianics, and their repeated actions of dressing up their goy members as Jews hardly helps their image. With that in mind, there are certain slogans that we attribute to Jews within this time period. One of them is "Not In Our Name" or "Not In My Name". We often see this phrase used by actual antizionist Jews or those nonZionist/Zionist Jews that see Netanyahu's government as going too far. These Jews seek to distance themselves from the association with Israel, hence the phrase(s). It appears on banners, t-shirts, and other items. Well... Ally Beardsley of Dropout TV was recently arrested at a protest wearing a Not In Our Name shirt. Beardsley grew up as an Evangelical Christian. They're not Jewish, nor have they ever presented themself as being Jewish. So why are they wearing a shirt with a phrase used by Jews who are in opposition to Israel's actions? I do understand allyship, but this particular phrase says "Our", and Beardsley does not belong to the "Our" group in any capacity. Personally, I have the same feeling as when I see someone using slang, slurs, or language of a particular group in public because their immediate circle is made of those persons and thus they have an in-group while they themselves are an outgroup member. It's outside of the boundaries of that in-group, and it doesn't matter how many seders, BBQs, or whathaveyou that you're invited to, you don't use that language outside of your circle. I already had red flags and klaxon bells going off in my head about Beardsley before this (that's a whole separate post about my issues with Fantasy High and other Dropout media), and at present I've not seen anything that would be contrary to those warnings.

But why is this problematic? What is one person doing this actually impact? Beardsley has a relatively big following, and thus has a big impact. And it’s not just them doing it, there’s many accounts of goys doing this same behavior. Furthermore, due to their celebrity others will copy this behavior. They’re trying to represent a position within our community while not actually being a member of it. They’re speaking for Jews when they’re not Jews themselves. It’s another example of Jewish voices and phrases being coopted by goyim, regardless of the intention, and that’s not okay.