#the barefoot executive

[dfilms]

The Barefoot Executive, 1971

[hangedtogether]

Long drop

[modusmumbles]

I love it when autism softlocks me /sar

[letitbehurt]

Thinking heavily today about public humiliation:

Being paraded in front of a crowd—dragged behind a horse maybe, pulled along by a length of rope around their wrists

Whumper forcing Whumpee to walk behind them on a leash

Whumpee’s hair being forcibly cut or shaved

Forced to walk barefoot, or without any clothes at all

Public trials or executions

Public mock executions, where Whumpee can see for themself that no one will help them. The crowd cheers for their death.

Being whipped, caned, birched, or belted

Being restrained in a way that leaves them vulnerable to the whims of a crowd—the stocks, the post, a stress position, or simply being held down by a few guards

Public demotion or exile

Forced to complete humiliating tasks as a form of entertainment or punishment

Forced to kneel or bow to/beside Whumper

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

Warnings- Mentions of blood, gore and murder scenes, eventual smut, JK is definitely a hard dom and mad possessive, vampire bites and blood sucking.

A/N- Even though I have tagged the people who asked to be tagged, there will be no taglist for this series from here on. I only tagged you guys to sort of let you know this series has started. It's a big struggle to keep all those usernames up to date so you might wanna turn on the notifs :)

Please find the introduction to the world of Amour Mort here!

You ran through the forest, tears in your eyes making it difficult to see the path ahead, but you could tell you were venturing deeper into the more dangerous side. At the back of your mind, you were very aware that you shouldn’t be here past midnight, and that if someone found you breaking curfew, you would probably be executed by the throne, thinking you were some sort of rebel revolting in the recent uprisings. But all of that paled in comparison to the despair gnawing at your soul.

The branches clawed at your skin, leaving angry red marks, but you didn’t slow down, only realizing you had come here barefoot when tiny stones began hurting the bottom of your feet. You were being chased—not by a person, but by your own thoughts and the relentless ache in your chest. Your father’s words would not stop playing in your mind, your palms pressing against your ears as you closed your eyes in an attempt to silence his voice.

"You're nothing but a burden to me. I wish you had never been born!"

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your right foot, sending you stumbling and falling to the ground with all the air being knocked out of your lungs. You winced, letting out a whimper as you managed to look back, gasping at the bear trap that had clamped around your foot. Its teeth dug into your flesh, and blood pooled on the dead leaves beneath you.

“No…” you cried out, sobbing at your misfortune, the pain from your wound shooting through your leg in waves. A thought came to you: maybe this is how you die, completely alone and unloved, with no one to care that you weren’t at home right now.

‘That’s not true! Lila cares…’

Your mind screamed at you, your sister’s pretty face popping into your head. Well, this was true; your sister did care about you. But really, there was only so much she could do when your father did not even acknowledge you as his daughter. You still remembered the party where a guest mistook you for a maiden working in the mansion. It had truly hurt you, but there was nothing you could say, not when that is probably what your father wanted the world to think. A part of you thinks he hates you because your mother died just five days after you were born, but how could you, a mere baby, be at fault for that?

Gathering all your energy, you began to drag yourself to a tree nearby, wincing and whimpering with every wave of pain that washed over you. You could even feel the burn on the skin of your forearms where it rubbed against the rocky and muddy ground, convinced that the sleeve of your dress was beginning to tear. Were you even going to make it back home? Did you even want to make it back home?

Upon reaching the giant tree, you pushed yourself up, managing to rest your back against the trunk, finally getting a good look at the steel trap wrapped around your foot. Meant for animals, it was likely a tool for the poorer vampires who couldn’t afford human slaves and fed on animal blood instead. It was the one law that favored humans: vampires were forbidden to feed on them freely. But nonetheless, it was always the innocent ones who had to pay the price. The night-walkers were given the gift of strength and brutality that they used against the weak, be it you or an animal.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing growing harsh, and your vision growing blurry. It was the blood loss, and you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Either you were getting used to it, or your body had started focusing on the fact that you were dying instead. Whatever was happening, it was not good, and you had no idea how to help yourself.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not at this time.” A voice broke through the darkness, making you jump in surprise, your eyes immediately landing on a man’s silhouette standing just a few steps away from you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and, swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself further against the tree, hoping that would make you disappear.

Was this someone who was going to turn you in? Maybe the cause of your death was going to be execution and not a bear trap?

Your silence only prompted the man to move closer to you and into the moonlight filtering through the trees, your lips parting as you took in his face. He was truly breathtaking, with black hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that seemed to pierce through the night. There was black ink peeking at you from under the collar of his black shirt on his neck, more patterns emerging from under his rolled-up sleeve right up to his knuckles, making you wonder just how much of his body was tainted like this.

“N-neither should you,” you said bravely, though your voice was small and weak.

He chuckled in response, making you purse your lips as you watched him kneel down beside you, your body subconsciously shifting backward even though there was nowhere to go, every single thought in your mind long gone in the presence of this man.

His eyes slowly moved across your body, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, your tattered dress, and your bloody foot, tutting at the condition of your wound.

“This is why you shouldn’t be here, little human,” he said, your eyes widening as you caught a hint of amusement on his face, your blood running cold at the realization. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you were suddenly very aware of the blood you were soaked in, your eyes nervously flitting between him and your poor foot. If you had to die, you didn’t want to do so at the hands of a vampire. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine the pain that was probably about to suffocate you when he ripped your heart right out of your chest.

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, staring into his eyes with tears in yours, shaking your head when he smirked and leaned in closer to you. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall freely and turned your face away from him, his breath fanning your neck and making you whimper.

“You must taste exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, your chest heaving as his words made your heart thump harder in your chest. This has to be it. He was going to drain your body right now, and no one was going to find out ever.

Preparing yourself for the attack, you closed your eyes shut and gripped the skirt of your dress, thinking about your family for the last time before your life was taken from you.

“But I’m not going to do that.” Came his voice, your eyes slowly opening as you glanced over at him, noticing the sudden distance he had put between the two of you. A frown etched on your forehead, your tears drying up on your cheeks as you processed his words. He was not going to hurt you?

“I’m too old to lose control over a bit of blood.” He gestured nonchalantly towards your foot, shocking you at how he thought this was just a bit of blood. You were literally going to pass out soon.

“Wh-why are you here?” you stammered, biting your tongue when his expression hardened, his eyes sending daggers your way and letting you know that you shouldn’t have asked him that. Silence engulfed you both, your eyes failing to look away from him. It was almost as if he was holding you prisoner under his gaze, a flash of guilt disappearing from his dark eyes as soon as it came.

“I had to get away before they caught up to me,” he confessed, a cool breeze ruffling his hair as he stood up and stared down at you, his eyes reading the confusion in yours.

“Who-”

“My sins,” he responded before you could even ask, his thick boots crunching the leaves on the gravelly path as he walked in front of your stretched-out leg and sat down on one knee. A flash of lightning struck through the sky at that very second, as if to show that the heavens had heard his confession too. And when the thunder illuminated his face, you could swear you had seen the very face of evil.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked, tilting his head as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head hesitantly. But you knew he didn’t believe you when he let out a small laugh. It sounded bitter to your ears, like he was mocking you for being so weak yet trying to fool him at the same time.

“Well, you should be.” In one quick motion, his hand ripped apart the trap into two pieces, your flesh being freed from the sharp claws that were jammed into it. Dots filled your vision as your lips parted in a silent scream, your chest hurting as if you were having a heart attack, and maybe you were because you felt your body go limp as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Strong arms held you before you could hit the ground, your head suddenly resting against a firm chest as your breath came out all raggedy. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead, your body not having any energy to even let you open your eyes for a second.

“W-why…” you breathed out, your voice a bare whisper in the night. And the next thing you knew, you felt a hand pressing against your lips before a metallic taste filled your mouth. With all the energy left in you, you opened your eyes wide and grabbed the tattooed arm feeding you blood, your attempts at pushing it away failing miserably.

“Sshh, you need this. You need me,” the vampire whispered above you, his chin resting atop your head as he ran his free hand through your hair. Knowing that you couldn’t fight him off, not like this, you gave up and swallowed the disgusting liquid that made your body feel warm all of a sudden. You could hear your heart pumping and your breathing steadying as the blood worked its way into your system, your senses sharpening, and your strength slowly returning.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his arm away, and you let out a string of coughs, gasping for air while the awful taste lingered on your tongue. It was truly ironic how the blood of someone dead could heal a living being. How a killer could give life to someone. And you were sure that this man who had saved your life was a killer too. Why else would he talk about his sins catching up to him?

“What did you do that you had to run away?” you asked as soon as you found your voice, your tired eyes glancing up at the man holding you. His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips, sending shivers down your spine when he brought up his thumb and rubbed away some blood from the corner of your mouth.

“What’s your name?” He avoided your question smoothly, pretending you hadn’t spoken a word to him. Frowning, you thought about it for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him who you were. But at the same time, you weren’t a very valuable human. There was really nothing he could want from you that would make him hunt you down.

“Y/N,” you said, averting your gaze to your foot, which was now void of any wounds. Your skin looked completely smooth and untouched except for the dried blood staining it, leaving you staring in awe.

“Well, Y/N,” he started, regaining your attention, “you’re gonna find out tomorrow.”

You frowned at his words, wondering if this implied that he was going to see you tomorrow to tell you what sin he had committed. Too lost in your head to notice that he had stood up, you saw him offer his hand to you. Your fingers hesitantly took hold of his cold ones. With ease, he pulled you up as you slightly lifted your dress and examined your foot, pleased with the fact that there was absolutely no pain anymore.

“This is-” You turned to glance at the man, only to be met with darkness. The vampire was gone, the forest was silent, and you were alone once again.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @girl8890 @adasboredom @acrazybiotch374 @tutnotmytea @leilei-9 @yoonjinhusbands @kumakoyan @ttanniett

[inkskinned]

i only bake when im happy. my grandmother taught me this. she says she has "a stigma" about it. (i say "isn't that the holes in the hands like jesus?" and get, from my father, a not-altogether unexpected back-of-the-head whack). she says that cooking you can kind-of fake. but you can taste if someone put their heart into baking.

i haven't made anything in an oven for over a year.

at first it was just plain grief. i couldn't even eat, much less mealplan. i have a weird thing about food; and can eat the same thing, every day, and be extremely happy about it. then i moved; and the oven here is weird, and i figured - ah, i'll figure it out eventually.

being sad silences such odd parts of your life. it's not like i meant to give up baking. i like baking. i list it in my hinge bio. people who have been friends with me for a while know she bakes. i like to make complicated, artistic things - things that take days to plan and a week to execute properly. my favorite does remain chocolate chip cookies - something about them being so simple and so immediately satisfying.

there are people i met in the last year who don't believe me. you don't cook, they laugh. which, i mean, i guess is true. as we speak, i'm eating something out of the microwave for dinner again. but still. i call one of my new friends and i tell her i saw a recipe for snail pretzels. she laughs and says why would you need that?

it's weird, i guess. i have so many very-very-very good memories, barefoot and dancing in yellow kitchens, humming to old music, my hands around a bowl. why, out of everything, is that what the grief stole? just this sudden, strange ... missing piece. and to be honest; it kind of scares me. because it happened so quietly is the thing. i never meant to stop baking. it just ... kind of happened to me.

i'm in the hard part of therapy - where you have to start feeling things. the whole world opens up and suddenly, everything hurts like you're 19. exciting! i am also, at the same time, and for the first time in my whole life - only beholden to me. any longterm choice i make only impacts my life. my first and only priority is just... me. for a while, the only way i experienced this sensation was to think how blisteringly lonely.

but i cleaned my kitchen today. later i will call nick and we will talk about stupid shit. tomorrow alex and i are binge watching tv. i have finished rearranging my plants today; they span my ceiling in a river of green.

and i think. i think. tonight i'll make cookies. i don't know if i'm happy. but it's just. you know. in the spirit of trying.

[witchyy-kittyy]

Shoutout to all the pagans that can't celebrate holidays in a 'traditional' or 'typical' way or can't do 'traditional' or 'typical' devotional acts due to chronic illness, neurodivergence, executive dysfunction, disabilities, anything

You all are still perfectly valid and your deities understand and still love you.

You can't tidy their alters or pray before their alters because you can't get out of bed? They understand

You can't walk barefoot in the grass or pick flowers for Betlane? That's perfectly okay

You can't easily create things for your deities? They understand

You can't clean something for Ostara? That's perfectly okay

Your deities understand. You are still valid. You are still loved.

[vintagelasvegas]

Eartha Kitt at El Rancho Vegas, Patrice Munsel at New Frontier, October 1955. Photos by George Silk.

Two astonishingly different young women are trotting on stage in Las Vegas this week with two astonishingly similar acts. Patrice Munsel, distinguished soprano of the Metropolitan Opera Co. makes her nightclub debut at the New Frontier wearing a voluminous satin skirt. Executing a modest bump in mid-aria, she doffs the skirt and carries on in jeweled pink pants. At El Rancho Vegas, Eartha Kitt, a catlike songbird out of the world's best boîtes, enters in a gold lamé cocoon from which she breaks out, after a few ballads, in little more than a loin cloth and halter. After that she writhes in a dance she herself describes as a "primitive mélange." Both girls end up barefoot and their Las Vegas audiences presumably end up limp.

LIFE, 10/17/55

[disneybooklist]

The Barefoot Executive (1971)

[hangedtogether]

[athymelyreply]

A highly recommended read. Full text of article under cut

On October 7, I was not hiding with my child in the safe room. My house was not burnt to the ground, and my husband didn't blow me a last kiss before his killer fired a fatal bullet.

I was safely at home in London where I have lived for over 30 years when my elderly peace-activist parents, Oded and Yocheved Lifschitz, along with 77 others members of the community, were taken hostage, barefoot and in their pajamas from their homes in the kibbutz where I was born and raised.

Israel's hostages in Gaza: A matter of life and death

Israeli peace activists who lost loved ones in the Hamas massacre stand their ground

What we can learn from released Hamas hostage Yocheved Lifshitz

For the past 229 days, together with the families of the other of hostages taken captive which now number 128, we have taken part in the fight for the lives of our loved ones.

A photo of the writer, Sharone Lifschitz's parents, Yocheved and Oded Lifschitz, who were both kidnapped by Hamas to Gaza on October 7. To date, only Yocheved Lifschitz has returned. Credit: Amiram Oren

In Nir Oz, my family's kibbutz, one in four people (117 in total), were either executed or kidnapped. We are still piecing together the events of that brutal day that Hamas terrorists and some Gazan civilians, perpetrated medieval levels of cruelty, driven by hate and revenge, blinded by radical religious ideology and super-charged with amphetamines.

Last month, at the "Seder in the Streets" event in New York, activist Naomi Klein spoke as if none of that ever took place. Instead, addressing hundreds who gathered for a combination Passover Seder and protest of the war in Gaza, she spoke of what she termed the "False Idol of Zionism", comparing Jewish support of it to the Israelites "worshiping" the golden calf and recalling Moses' rage seeing the spectacle.

Klein's interpretation seems to miss the point: Moses, unlike Klein, did not disengage. He did not give up on his people when they worshipped a false idol. Instead, without compromising his integrity and beliefs, he guided them through the desert for forty more years in their journey to become a nation. Klein, at this dangerous moment in history, is failing to lead her listeners to take responsibility, to engage and work towards a shared future in the region for Jews and Palestinians, one built on the preciousness of life on both sides and an understanding of the original intention of Zionism: the necessity for a safe home for the Jewish people.

"Seder in the Street" was also protesting the heartbreaking and ongoing humanitarian crisis in Gaza and settler violence in the West Bank. Many in Israel, like my parents, would agree. Yet their plight and that of the other hostages – most of them civilians, from a baby boy of one year to a man of 86 - are not mentioned at Seder in the Streets or other gatherings of far-left pro-Palestinian Jewish activists.

My father, Oded Lifschitz, who is 83, and his friends who are also hostages, all in their late 70s and 80s, have worked for peace for decades. My mother, Yocheved Lifschitz, was thankfully released after 17 days of captivity.

Yocheved Lifschitz after being released from 17 days in Hamas captivity, in Tel Aviv, Israel in late October. Credit: Tomer Appelbaum

How much more effective these protests could be if activists abroad could act as a bridge between the pro-Palestinian movement and progressives fighting for peace in Israel?

Hamas, a terrorist organization which has been systematically stripping freedom, women's rights and democracy from the Gaza strip since 2006 are also strangely left out of the discussion. In fact, I see more criticism of the Hamas attack and crimes from moderate Palestinian voices than from prominent Jewish voices of the pro-Palestinian movement in the United States and Europe.

Klein is instead content in disengaging from Israel based on a distorted idea of Zionism and in so doing offers no solidarity with the moderate, progressive Jews living in Israel and for whom rejecting Zionism is irrelevant at this moment. Whether we like our government's policies or hate them as many do, Israel is home. Just as Canada is Klein's home, whether or not she likes the policies of the Canadian government or condones its mistreatment of its Indigenous population.

I consider myself pro-Palestinian. My family has always fought for a shared future for our two peoples, understanding this key point: our fates are interlinked. My parents have advocated for peace and equality for and with the Palestinians since the 1960s. We have united as a family to protest policies of the current Israeli government we find abhorrent. I wish for the Palestinians what I want for my own people: to live without bloodshed, in their own democratic state, as part of a negotiated two-state solution.

The facts are indisputable to Zionists and non-Zionists alike: There are about 7 million Jews and 7 million Palestinians living in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories of the West Bank and Gaza. Jewish Israelis cannot be expected to reject the idea that they can and should have the right to live safely in Israel. Without Israel, where would they go?

Everyone who cares about what's best for the region must strengthen those who are working for a peaceful future. As my father always says, "You make peace with your enemies."

A Palestinian family rides on the back of a donkey-drawn carriage next to damaged buildings in Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, in April.Credit: AFP

Thanks to international efforts to formulate a plan for the "day after" the war in Gaza, we are potentially closer to a long-term political agreement to lift us out of conflict than ever before. To help facilitate it, American and European progressives must distinguish between religious fanatics on both sides and those working toward a path of justice and peace for everyone in the region.

We must differentiate the liberal American pro-Palestinian activists from those who justify Hamas atrocities as acts of resistance. The dominant current narrative of the American far left, including the Jews among them, unwittingly aligns with Iran, and with antidemocratic and illiberal forces.

Instead of fostering hate and promoting disengagement from Israel, progressives abroad should help those in the region regain a sense that another future is possible and advocate for a negotiated political agreement that would create a state of Palestine established alongside the state of Israel. It won't be perfect, but it will be a good start.

The work of advocating for a different, sustainable future, must start with a call for the immediate release of hostages as part of a long-term agreement, backed by America and its allies, including moderate Arab states, that has the potential to transform the lives of Palestinians and Israelis by rescuing them from this ongoing tragedy. To fail to do so is to fail not just the hostages and their families, but to throw all the people of the region further into the abyss and undo the inspiring work of moderate forces within Israeli and Palestinian society.

In this, our darkest hour, we ask ourselves, who is our enemy? My enemy is the blind hate that seeks to erase the humanity of the other side. All of us who are horrified by what is unfolding in Gaza should work toward empowering the people of the region to move away from our common enemy. That's not Zionism, but rather the religious fanaticism we have within both our societies – Israeli and Palestinian – that threatens to engulf us all.

Sometimes, I want to shout at the news on TV, to remind people that their indulgent engagement in hatred of one side is so futile, so self-congratulatory. We can do better.

As we bleed and grieve, and in the case of families like my own – hang suspended between hope and despair for the fate of our loved ones, we must seek points of human connection between Jews and Palestinians, we must fight, not against one another, but for a practical solution that dismantles the status quo so that we can all survive – and live in freedom and security.

Sharone Lifschitz is a London-based filmmaker and academic originally from Kibbutz Nir Oz, whose parents were taken hostage on October 7. On Twitter: @Lifschitz_sha

[pearwaldorf]

40%!!!!!! 40 GODDAMN PERCENT!!

I have said previously that something definitely happened that made a show with a well-executed first season get roughly paced and choppy, but I was not expecting them to have to make do with pretty much half their budget and relocating overseas. I don't think S2 would have been as good without Aotearoa (the people and the landscape) pulling more than its weight, but fuck.

There's only so much fat you can cut before you start slicing into bone, and I worry that Max will just be like "You pulled a pretty decent season out of 40% of the budget, we'll give you a smidge more and expect the goddamn moon."

I hope David Zaslav steps on Legos barefoot for the rest of his miserable pathetic life.

[gyusimp]

Happy Birthday to me!

I finished what I had to do for now, and besides, I was feeling horny enough to write some smut! My birthday was 2 days ago, but here is the fic I planned to post on Feb 1st. The idea was thanks to @whisperhug97 so thank you very much for your suggestion, enjoy! 💜

⚠️WARNINGS: NSFW | Explicit content | Canon Gyutaro | Smut content | Hard s3x | A little kidnapping | Prostitution? (Just reader saving her own life) | MINORS DNI! | Read at ur own risk

You were broke, the job you currently had had caused you so much discomfort that you simply stopped coming without telling anyone. You made that decision lightly in a fit of fury thinking that soon someone else could employ you. You lived in the Entertainment District so sooner or later your skills with traditional makeup might come in handy, in a couple of weeks you'd be hired. But it had been 6 months since you lost your job and you needed the money more and more.

You got small tasks to do around the neighborhood but nothing completely stable, you only had to take care of getting money to pay the rent for your room and something that would take away your hunger during the day. You began to lose weight, the desperation of not knowing how you would survive the next day eating away at your brain until you were forced to take drastic measures. You knew someone at the Kyogoku house, where you worked temporarily some time ago, and you asked them to do you a favor. You tried to work as best as you could during that period to qualify for a permanent position but the Oiran Warabihime was too demanding and difficult to please so when you finished the agreed time they simply opened the doors for you to leave.

The plan you had now was difficult, even more so because it would have to be executed outside the eyes of the almost white-skinned girl. If she ever found out, you could imagine her tilted head looking at you with contempt and fury. Fortunately, you got the lady of the house to lend you a considerable amount of money to pay this month's rent and buy some products that you could resell to generate a little money that would help you stay stable for a while. Sales were good, but the time it took to recover the amount borrowed would not come from one day to the next and after 3 weeks, people from the Kyogoku House would knock on your door to collect the money borrowed. You explained to them a thousand times that you were still recovering it with your sales, but the same situation was repeated over and over again until 3 more months passed and the news reached Warabihime's ears.

Annoyed, she decided that you should pay one way or another, what did you think you were to steal like that with the money she earned? The next debt collector did not knock on your door, he simply entered through your window next to a long piece of fuchsia fabric with floral designs that wrapped your entire body with the necessary force to immobilize you and lose you in its folds. Everything was dark, the feeling of being swallowed and suffocated completely within the density of an unknown tunnel accelerated your breathing horribly, squeezing your eyes, you lost track of time. You didn't know if it had been hours or even days, you woke up feeling tired and with stiff joints, you tried to scream but your mouth was gagged and your eyes were blindfolded. Your waist and under your breasts were tight with something as were your hands and arms up, leaving you kneeling on the hard, dry ground. You were kidnapped, you didn't think this situation would get out of control but you should have assumed it was someone else's money.

Raucous laughter filled the room as you began to move, trying to get out of the grip of the fabric that pressed against your body.

"You look so pathetic, it's useless, any attempt is ridiculously useless." It was a male voice, shrill but hoarse at the same time, which made you feel chills down your spine. You heard barefoot footsteps approaching you, when you felt a hand pull your hair to shake your head mockingly. "Do you really think you could fool my sister? You poor stupid bitch!" He laughed again, carelessly removing your blindfold, messing up your hair.

Your vision was cloudy, not to mention everything was a little dark, but as your eyes recovered, you managed to make out a tall man in front of you, hair greenish and messy. Although he was quite strong in his arms and chest, his rib bones were visible above his thin waist. Inky black spots painted his face and body in a way never seen before in your eyes. The fear and uncertainty of what would happen now was killing you and you felt like very soon you would really be dead.

"I will take care of collecting every last cent with your blood, I will make you wish you had never set foot in this world..."

The man was approaching you menacingly, with a kind of bloody sickle in his hand while he grabbed your chin with the other. Your eyes were tearing and your mouth was sobbing under the gag, your terror of death was enormous, there was nothing more that scared you in this life than a slow and painful death and this man was willing to give it to you, but you were also willing to do anything to avoid any suffering. "Let me take this from you, pretty...I like hearing human screams as they watch me tear their stomachs open in front of their eyes." The man moved a hand and the gag in your mouth slipped, leaving your sobs uncovered. Your heart was beating non-stop and your soul was almost leaving your body when you watched the man's weapon rise above you.

"WAIT WAIT!! PLEASE WAIT!! I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!!" You shouted desperately, catching his attention. Usually the boy never listens to the requests of his prey, but seeing a young and pretty woman like you so vulnerable before him, made him curious about what you had to say. He stopped his murderous movement and let you talk.

"Fast." He ordered. This was your chance, you had to do anything to save yourself, anything no matter what. You tried to calm your breathing and cleared your throat.

"I know I owe a lot of money to this house, I wasn't avoiding anything, I just couldn't get it at the agreed time." His yellow eyes stared intimidatingly at you. "I know I have to pay but I don't want to do it with my life...could it be...another way?" The tone of your voice changed drastically on the last sentence, still concerned but you managed to sound needy and agitated, in a sensual way. As you finished speaking, you looked the man straight in the eyes as you slowly opened your legs on your spot. Waiting for a response.

He didn't say anything, he just stuck his sickle into the ground and crouched in front of you. Your reaction worried you. But it was unpredictable when he started laughing madly.

"It's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen! Completely pathetic! Are you seriously willing to offer me your body so I don't kill you? To let someone as disgusting as me fuck you to spare your life?"

You didn't act on impulse, you had already slept with a friend in exchange for favors a few years ago so you were willing to do it if your life was at risk. The man approached you, his right hand went straight to the collar of your kimono to pull it down and leave your breasts almost completely exposed, making you gasp. This boy was not stupid, since he saw you you seemed attractive to him and he would have eventually taken you by force if his sister had not demanded that he kill you immediately, but since you were offering yourself, he was not going to waste the opportunity.

"W-What's your name?" you asked. He hesitated a little before answering.

"Gyutaro...why the fuck do you want to know that?"

"To know whose name I must moan and beg for more."

A smile formed on your opponent's face, but not just any smile, it was a dark and selfish smile, full of lust and mockery. With a single movement of his hands, Gyutaro made the obi around your body loosen to open your clothes and admire your naked body under your kimono, two other pieces of cloth adhered to your thighs to lift your legs and keep them open. It seemed like he was able to control that flowery obi.

"The amount you owe is very large girl, your payment will be according to that."

Gyutaro approached you, you could see the large bulge that had quickly formed between his legs under his pants, he moved his face towards you and began to lick and suck your neck vigorously making you moan as you felt his hot and wet touch. He continued with your shoulders and collarbones while massaging your thighs vigorously until he brought one of his hands to one of your breasts, squeezing the fat roughly making you moan loudly.

"Do you like it, you little slut?" He said, looking at your entire blush but you were nodding frantically.

"Y-Yes...continue."

Gyutaro squeezed both of your breasts, massaging your skin and positioning himself between your legs, he pulled down his pants and let his erect, wet tip rub sloppily against your lips and your wet center. His smile widened when he noticed your back arch slightly as you felt his member on your clit, making your juices begin to wet it. His hands squeezed harder until he left red marks from his fingers on your tits, your nipples were hard and rigid under his touch so he couldn't help but bend down and take one of them between his teeth to play with it and stimulate it with his tongue. He had his eyes fixed on your body, reveling in your soft but needy moans as he sucked and scored you hard. Your arms were still, bound tightly by the obi over your head, suppressing any urge to tug on his hair to signal him to continue.

The moment Gyutaro opened your labia with two fingers and started playing with your clit with his thumb made you close your eyes and tilt your head back.

"Aaah!! Yes, there, there Gyutaro....k-keep touching me there mmmhh..."

His touch continued and sped up, his short nails sliding between your hole making you clench and buck your hips. You felt the obi on your thighs move to spread your legs wider and you looked down immediately when you felt Gyutaro's tongue wrap around your clit, playing with it between his teeth, looking at you with a lascivious smile. The sight of him wedged between your open legs, with your pussy in his face and your face between your two breasts showing off your hard nipples was priceless. With his two thumbs, he took your lips and parted them to highlight your bulge between your wet and slippery folds, to fuck you needily with his tongue, making your hips stutter and your knees bend even more. Your taste was incredible, he had never tasted anything like it.

Gyutaro continued licking and sucking each of your folds while you melted between moans and obscene pleas to want to cum.

"AA-AAHHH!! Gyu-taro-oo-aaah! So, keep it up...you fuck me so good, so good! I wanna cum, I wanna cum...would you like me to cum now? Over, all over your face? Aaa-aaah- that I covered your mouth with all my orgasm?" You said, moving your hips up, bringing your pussy closer to him.

Gyutaro looked at you and wiped the remains of your juices from his chin before speaking. "Of course I would...but I would like more to feel you covering my cock, honey."

Gyutaro immediately got on his knees and without thinking twice he spread your legs wide open and spat on your pussy in a contemptuous manner, and then entered your hole without warning, in a single movement. You moaned loudly and obscenely when you felt his length pass through you, you could intensely feel how your walls stretched to try to take his size and contracted back around him to suck him hard. You knew your pussy was doing a good job when you saw him moan and curse, tilting his head back.

"Fuck...mmmhh, what a good cunt..." Gyutaro said, thrusting into you again to get deeper.

He loved the way you were moving and how submissive you were being underneath him. Gyutaro started touching your tits again as he bent down to suck your hard nipples and make you moan. His body trembled as your hole surrounded him tightly, so tight, making ropes of cum begin to leak into you, approaching his orgasm. That sensation led him to move faster inside you. It wasn't being so bad after all, you could be screaming and dying from the pain, maybe you wouldn't even be alive anymore, but now you were safe, being fucked by a demon but at least you were screaming in pleasure and not pain. This man had something special, you knew he was very dangerous but that idea was only turning you on even more, and even more so seeing yourself in this situation. You looked down and could see your open legs and lips receiving Gyutaro, watching your clit outside of you being pressed against his cock with each of his thrusts, hitting your most sensitive spot again and again until you were completely wrapped around him and you began to move vigorously, making your breasts bounce on you and letting all your juices come out on him, bathing him with your orgasm, forming a thick, white ring around his penis, dripping between your legs.

Gyutaro couldn't help but smile at having that thick, wet feeling on him, which led him to cum almost immediately the moment your walls clenched intensely and you milked him completely. Gyutaro covered you with his seed from the inside out, making you feel wet and slippery from the hot, white liquid poured into you, leaking out little by little through the folds of your center, arching your waist.

"AAAHH G-GYUTARO!!" You moaned, almost screaming. Your hips continued to move almost instinctively until he was satisfied and stopped using you. It seemed like he would never get tired but little by little his pace slowed down until his breathing calmed down.

"W-what...what's your name?" He asked.

“Y/n…” you answered tiredly.

"Well, Y/n, your debt has been settled..." At that moment Gyutaro pulled out of you without warning, making you moan as you felt his member rubbing along your walls until the exit, leaving you wet and empty beneath him.

The obi that was restraining your arms and legs was completely removed from your entire body, leaving you free. You thought Gyutaro would finally let you go or something, but instead of doing that, he grabbed your kimono and took it off completely. Even though he had just fucked you relentlessly, you noticed that his erection was not disappearing, actually, his tip was beginning to leak as he ran his fingers over his slit in a dirty way in front of you looking at your body. "But the interests are still missing..." he said, laughing with desire and taking your arm to turn you around and hover over you like an animal in heat.

Gyutaro inhaled your scent and began to rub his tip on your ass, pressing you to the ground. He would make up a valid excuse for his sister later, informing her that you were his new toy and she shouldn't kill you.

[tossawary]

Thinking about how hard the "Star Wars" prequel films dropped the ball in terms of female representation. Like, looking back on the original trilogy, it kind of sucks that the only main female character is Leia, and while Leia does kick ass and I love her, it also sucks that the last film 1) put her in that bikini and 2) abruptly made her Luke's twin but didn't let her have a lightsaber or use a lot of the cool space magic powers.

When you only have one female character, she often ends up bearing the unintended burden of a lot of hopes and expectations of fans. She's just one person. She's never going to be compelling to everyone.

And then you have the prequels and you'd hope that they'd do a little better with male-female ratios this time? With experience? But the only main female character is Padmé, who's pretty fun, but also ends up 1) desperately in love with a murderer, 2) spending most of the last movie barefoot and pregnant, staring out a window, because they cut the "founding of the Rebellion" plotline, and 3) dying not because she was Force-choked but because she has "lost the will to live" because "fuck them kids", I guess.

(I know there's theories about Sidious siphoning her life force or what the fuck ever, but I don't caaaaare, because I hate the idea that Sidious has that kind of reach for no fucking reason and also it's not actually IN the movies! It doesn't count!)

The Nubian handmaidens are a cool concept, but they're all background characters, who barely get named. We don't get to actually see them and Padmé do a lot of on-screen work together. She doesn't get to confide in them regarding her love or her fears. She speaks to her guard captain more onscreen than her handmaidens.

And while we do see female members of the Jedi Order in the films, they're ALSO all background characters, like Jocasta Nu and Aayla Secura and Yaddle. As opposed to more active Jedi characters like Qui-Gon Jinn or Mace Windu. Like, damn, the prequels are the perfect opportunity to introduce and show off even a female Jedi supporting character, and they just did not do that. That sucks. The careless absence of women in this universe sucks. The careless absence of women as significant characters in these films sucks.

Every other piece of additional material for "Star Wars" has to move to patch this. The "Jedi Apprentice" and "Jedi Quest" novels strive to add and name female agemates and mentors. "The Clone Wars" television shows add Ahsoka as a protagonist and Ventress as a villain and a whole bunch of new female characters.

Yes, given that these are prequels, there are some characters who are not really realistically changeable. (Yes, trans people exist, obviously, that would be very cool; not sure that "Star Wars" was going to go for that back in 1999.) Obi-Wan. Anakin. Yoda. The Emperor. Unnamed Sad Mother of Luke and Leia. You need those ones. EVERYTHING ELSE was up for whatever they wanted to do.

So, anyway, I'm currently thinking about characters you could potentially genderbend without affecting the story pretty much at all. Qui-Gon, obviously. Mace Windu, as well. I think fandom would then hate both of these characters even more then, unfortunately, because fandom is what it is. Whatever legitimate criticisms levied at both of these imperfect characters would have increased tenfold, I am certain of it. But we're talking about the prequels's badly executed stories, not fandom's misogyny. (And misogynoir. A black woman as the leader of the Jedi Order when it was destroyed by the Sith? Fandom would have been even more of a fucking nightmare.) It would suck that they both die, but the prequels are a tragedy anyway, so, eh.

Bail's role in the prequels could have potentially been played by Breha Organa instead. Although, I don't know how well the Extended Universe novels had extended Leia's backstory by that point in time, maybe Bail had already been established as the Senator and Breha as Queen, so maybe not. At the very least, you could have had Mon Mothma in there doing his superspy stuff with him or something. Padmé's guard captain could have been a woman.

Both Darth Maul and Count Dooku could have been women. Yes, they're both evil, and yes, they both die, so it's not perfect on the representation front. But it's something, especially if you balance that out with some good characters, and look, I can't coherently complete this thought, I keep getting distracted by the mental image of hot evil Sith ladies. I think a female Count Dooku would have kicked ass, honestly, as much as I enjoy Christopher Lee in the role.

My main goal with this thought exercise is purely upping the number of plot-relevant female characters, pointing out that it wouldn't have been hard to add more women without changing all that much if anyone involved had actually bothered to think about that.

The original trilogy only mentioned "The Clone Wars", so the clone army didn't all need to be copies of Jango Fett. There could have potentially been a half-dozen genetic donors, with the Kaminoans creating different clone soldiers for different purposes. Some of them could have been clones of women. (I hold the unpleasant headcanon that the clone soldiers are all sterile (or functionally sterile, incompatible with unmodified humans) anyway, because the Kaminoans don't want clients to be able to "steal" their work.) And the clones are actually a fairly minor role in the films themselves, admittedly, not given any more development than any of the droids (it's the show that does the work), but again, it's still something more.

[bundoesnotcompete]

Hello you may notice this is a new blog but i do not want to post this to my main so im dumping this lil thing here. I dont think its very good but i hope you can at least get ideas here. It has violence and reader is kept neutral as possible. Hopefully my anxiety will let me keep this and not encourage me to delete it. Have fun reading :)

Hunted like an animal. That is all that could be used to describe the situation you've been in for the past few months. To think that you had been so excited to meet your favorite characters after getting isekai'd into genshin. Well, after you had a panicked screaming session in the woods you had been excited. When you had wondered into Mondstat, you hadn't been greeted kindly instead, you had been meet with wary and disgusted looks.

That should've been the first warning that something wasn't right, but you had held hope that things would improve. But after some sort of declaration was told to the city, you had been driven out and hunted like an animal. An imposter they had called you. You were appreantly an insult to their divine creator for simply looking like them. As horrific as the near death experience in Mondstat had been it was nothing like what was about to become the hell of the next few months.

Liyue had been a nightmare. After escaping Mondstat, you had fled to Liyue. You discovered the fun fact that even if you died, you would return elsewhere fully revived and healed. Dying in Liyue to Zhongli's hand forced you to discover the revival process and showed you that you could not escape the hell that teyvat would become. It was also in Liyue that you discovered that you were the true divine, and that whoever sat on the throne was the false creator.

Sumeru had been a mess, not only did you die, alot, but the entire academyia seemed to be torn between hunting you down to kill you or to study you. At least the local wildlife wasn't too much of an issue, in fact they seemed to help you. It was here that you discovered that the traveler hadn't been anywhere in teyvat yet. That explained why Zhongli had taken up his morax form when executing you. Thankfully, Sumeru was large and made it fairly easy to escape. The wildlife played a part in helping you after your hunters got more agressive with every time you revived.

You had to give Fontaine credit, Furina at least had the decency to tell you that you would not be welcomed when she had found you.

"I know you are the true divine creator," she had stated, "but you will doom us if we help you, so I have to tell you to leave and we will make a show of running you out." They had made a show of running you out of Fontaine, even if Furina seemed to feel a bit guilty of doing so. Natlan had been, well you didn't even want to think about how bad Natlan had been. You had gathered more deaths there than anywhere else.

You would be liar if you had said everyone was against you. Kaeya and a skeptical Diluc had helped you flee Mondstat safely, the local wildlife and forest helping out. Xiao, of all people, helped you escape Liyue after your first death. Furina in Fontaine at least acknowledging that what she was doing was wrong. Thankfully, you had never stepped foot in Inazuma. You didn't want to know whag the Almight Shogun had planned for you to die by.

So, here you were, tired and barefoot in the Snezhnayan snow. Surprisingly, the cold did not kill you or give you any sort of frostbite. Though you exhausted and the fact that you knew that some fatui patrols had spotted you made you paranoid. Why weren't they doing anything against you? They just seemed to note you ragged and exhausted appreance and move on. They were plotting something, they had to be. Sitting down and a hard and snowy log you sighed. The sun was beginning to set and you wanted to sleep, but the thought of someone finding you scared you. You were so tired of running but you didn't want to die.

Crunch. Whipping around to face whatever was behind you, you were met with the appreance of a woman in one expensive dress. Gliterring white dress, cloak, and crown like accessory atop her head, you had a sinking feeling. The fear must've shown on your face because she stopping approaching a few feet away from you after you had stood up. She bowed at the waist and began to speak.

"I apologize for scaring you My Divine, I should have known better." She stood straight and seemed to compose herself. "I am not here to harm you. I am the Tsarista and i come with a proposal if you were here me out. First though you must be cold here," she took off the thick cloak and held it out towards you, "you may have this. If you want to set it on the ground and back away i will."

You nodded and she set the cloak and the ground backing away. Snatching the cloak, you set it around your shoulders and she gave a small smile.

"I can offer you housing and protection My Divine. I will declare you permantly dead and you be safe in my nation. Though you will have to hide yourself, I do have a plan for that. In turn, I wish for your support on a rather large project in the future."

"There has to be more to it. You wouldn't have looked for me out here just for that." You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. That was a deal too good to be true. What if she was tricking you? The Tsarista's face returned to neutrally and she nodded.

"The others do not see the crime they are commiting by hunting you down. The Imposter does not allow them too. Celestia does not allow them to. There a few who see past the haze Celestia places upon beings. Most in my nation can see past it thus allowing us to know the truth. I know it sounds too good to be true, but I believe you do not understand just how valueable your support is. That is all there is to it, protection and freedom for your support. What will you say?" Wariness and hope filled you. Could you do it? Would you do it? She could be lying but the mere hope of freedom and peace she offered was tempting. Plus, the background whispering of Teyvat seemed to tell that she was not lying to you. It was a leap of faith.

"I-" You began, "I will accpet your offer. Just know that if you are lying I won't be happy." You held your hand out to her, burrowing ghe rest of you body deeper into the cloak. She smiled and took your hand, cold fingers gently wrapping around yours.

"Come. We are near a town. Cover your face and i will take you to safety My Divine."

The following months had been much better. With the Tsaritsa declaring the "Imposter" dead, and no one spotting you afterwards, you were free. Of course, you had to wear a mask to cover your face. In the few short months with the Tsaritsa you had been shown immensive kindness and you learned much. There had been other incarnations of you, though only two were confirmed, a legendary adepti and the prince to the fallen nation of Khaenri'ah. Appreantly, the last one had broken the seals that held you power at bay. That along with the tomfoolery that Khaenri'ah was getting up to forced Celestia to destroy the nation. Odd how that was never mentioned in game.

There was another thing. Appreantly, ypur streamer sibiling was also the divine creator. The Divine Twins you were called. All powerful creators of Teyvat. That had been something else. You hoped they never came, at least until the whole imposter mess was cleaned up. You worried about them on the other side but there wasn't much you could do, so you just tried not to think about it. When you had asked about why only certain people saw through the haze that Celestia made, the tsaritsa had merely sighed and did her best summarize. Appreantly, those who saw through were something called the Children of Calamity or flat out knew that an imposter was on the throne.

The Tsaritsa had asked you to become a sort of honorary harbinger after that conversation. The Lamb she had dubbed you. The other harbingers were nice enough you supposed. Pierro being kind and answering any questions you had. Though you couldn't deny it was a bit depressing how he seemed to be seeing Khaenri'ah's prince when he talked to you. Tartaglia was excitable and La Signora seemed to have very little intrest in you other than to talk about fashion or magics. You despised Scaramouche though you knew he would get better with time. You didn't have much of an impression of the others though.

Smiling under you mask, you adjusted it as you walked down the hallway to the harbinger meeting. You shouldn't think of things like that anymore, there was other things to focus on for the meeting. Opening the door, you entered the meeting. Things were looking up and you had a feeling it was only beginning.

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Hello im putting this at the bottom to let you know I DID NOT proof read this and this was slammed out in an hour.