#coercion under capitalism

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Fantasy 3

Kill or Be Killed

Label Mature 18+

Summary

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen is being eyed by the Emperor to replace the current Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. After proving his worth in the gladiatorial arena it shows the Baron just how much the people of Giedi Prime adore Feyd Rautha.

The Baron knows his time is coming to an end when the Emperors right hand Count Fenring comes to observe Feyd in action.

The only thing the Baron feels will cripple Feyds greatness, is you his defiant new Baroness. You soften Feyds resolve and lower his brutality one kind word and gesture at a time. You encourage his free will as a natural born leader against his tyrannical uncle.

When the Baron takes drastic measure and separates Feyd from his beloved Baroness he sealed his fate. The Baron assumed the infatuation would end with time apart and an unending supply of pleasure slaves. He miscalculated poorly and now Feyd is coming to collect his Baroness and exact revenge on his tormenting uncle.

Starts blood /fights/ politics Ends hot dark romance smut 🫠

⚠️Hard Core Smut⚠️

Public edging• fingering under a table•coercion• light fem dom •restraint kink•cock rings•size kink•Feyd in heat•Sub Feyd•pain kink•nipple clamps •sexual stimulant• oral sex on Feyd•oral from Feyd• Feyd masturbating• Feyd ejaculate•semi public sex in a pool• rough sex •spankings•orgasms •creampies

🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia

⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️

Part 1•Part 2•Part 3•Part 4•Part 5•Part 6•Part 7

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies⌛️ Based on events from Dune part 2 film+ novel:Feyd story line change 💝Not for my softies 🆕 Skip to Cat Daddy ➡️

I thought this would be done in 48 hrs… until I started writing the first fight scene of my life 🥴 I’m also so appreciative I’m entertaining you 👌🏼😭 im working my a** off love you guys.

⚔️ Multiple requests combined ⚔️ -Semi public fingering -Feyd Immediate need for gratification in public. -Feyd in heat -Even more graphic s*x… -Feyd very rough but reader needs it. -Sub Feyd (restrained and dominated). -Feyd kneeling to earn s*x. -Feyd pxssy drunk for the baroness -Sex in a ‘Dune style’ pool? -Feyd obsessed with Baroness to his own detriment. -Feyd giving an unhealthy amount of spankings *blushing from these ☺️ thank you for the requests

Kill or Be Killed

It is the morning of the Gladiatorial Fights on Geidi Prime. The war like sound of horns and drums resound the capitol. Every pillar and building is hung with banners reading: ‘The 100th Kill of Na Baron Feyd Rautha on the Celebration of his Nativity’. It has been made into a global holiday, the people of the planet flock to the event.

The triangular arena is so large it can be seen from space. The black stadium is in the center of the capital of Giedi Prime. It is an architectural marvel thirty stories high. The hundreds of thousands cheering in the audience can be heard for miles.

All the great houses are in attendance. Dozens of high end viewing rooms and balconies are filled with several hundred interplanetary leaders and dignitaries. The rest of the stadium is filled to the brim with the populous of Geidi Prime.

All in attendance pay homage to the birthday of the Barons nephew Na Baron Feyd Rautha. After the fall of House Atreides the Harkonnens have become the most powerful family dynasty. They amass the most wealth and the farthest reaching army in the galaxy. The other houses bow to their will.

The Barons viewing room is the highest and most luxurious in the arena. It is a twenty story tower that connects to the stadium floor. There is a an elevation room to quickly ascend and descend him for the momentous occasion.

The Barons is beaming on this day as he speaks to dignitary’s just outside of his luxury viewing section. He is seated in his hover chair not needing to move a muscle, just sit back and bask in the glory his nephews display of power this day.

He is interrupted by his Lord in Waiting who informs him two important guests wish to join him in his viewing section. When the Baron sees it is the Emperors right hand man he lets out a deep laugh “What a special occasion this must be” the Baron says as Count Fenring and his wife Lady Margot approach.

They are visiting observers from the Imperial Court. “Welcome my Count and Lady it is a pleasure to see you” The Baron says acting surprised, yet he has been expecting them all along. Count and Lady Fenring bow with polite smiles. Though they have more serious matters to discuss.

They are seated in the luxury sky box above the triangular arena. Horns blaring below, they are tiers above the other sections. Some in the lower tiers are looking up waving chanting for the Baron. He waves answering the call and they cheers.

"My dear Baron" the Count says leaning to the Barons ear “I wish to discuss the reason why I am here today. The Emperor wishes me to report on whether you’ve chosen a worthy successor. There’s nothing like the arena to expose the persons true valor beneath, eh?" He elbows the Baron taunting him.He knows about his habit of drugging Feyds opponents.

The Baron is wise to his game. He has given his nephew a worthy opponent on his birthday, a healthy and alert Atreides soldier just as Feyd requested. What once worried the Baron now seems a brilliant request by Feyd to prove his honor. “Oh Feyd-Rautha will show you his true Valor” the Baron says with confidence. They hear a final horn as the onlookers stare down into the arena.

Feyd Rautha emerges into the fighting pit. A long knife in his right hand, a short knife in his left.

The greeting cheers lift from all the galleries. Feyd Rautha pauses to accept it, looking up and scanning the faces to find the one he wants to see the most but there are so many.

Feyd Rautha holds up his knives to the sun, and salutes the three corners of the arena in the ancient manner.

The adjustment of his body shield takes only a moment. He clicks on the device at his waist. It covers him entirely in a transparent blue color. It will withstand fast attacks, slower ones can penetrate the field giving him time to defend. His uncle insisted for this fight especially he never turns off his sheild. It is his only guarantee against death if all else fails.

The crowd lowers to a murmur with everyone waiting in suspense.

Feyd steps back and faces his uncles tower. He places his right fist over his chest and kneels "I dedicate this victory to... " And he pauses, knowing his uncle forbade him from dedicating the most honorable fight of his life to you. His uncle leans forward in his seat. He will have him mercilessly flogged if he dedicates this to his Baroness.

"... to Na Baroness Harkonnen!" Feyd shouts. The crowd erupts into cheers of elation. His uncle scowls in disgust. Feyd has dedicated his wins to his uncle for over a decade.

The Baron lets out a sigh Feyd did honor the pledge he made on his wedding day to the populous, he said he would dedicate his victory to his Baroness. Maybe he will have you flogged in-front of Feyd instead, his obvious weakness. The crowd erupts into cheers chanting for Feyd.

Your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters applaud you. They begin letting out the ancient calls of a successful mating from your home world making you laugh. The thirteen of you are crowded together on the luxury balcony. You are far across the opposite end of the arena from the Baron.

Your sisters have been kind, the first to fully acknowledge and appreciate your pregnancy. They press their fingers on your womb and bow in reverence sending messages to the unborn. They constantly speak to you of your home world and brought you many luxurious gifts.

They see your anxiety increasing when you can’t stop looking over at Feyd as they speak with you. Placing their calming hands on you and your unborn they relax you. Once your mind is free from fear you are no longer apprehensive about Feyd during the fights. You join them to observe him.

“So this is the young man the Reverend Mother meant, this is the a bloodline we must preserve. The father of the future Kwisatz Haderach” They murmur collectively.

You stare through your binoculars at his striking form. He looks very powerful in his black armor wielding his blades. As if he can feel your gaze he finally turns over his shoulder looking for you behind him. He can not find you but you see his eyes, cold calculating and empty. You can not wait to restore life to him again.

Feyd refocuses, his uncle said no distractions. He nods to his nine barb-men checking their equipment with a measuring stare. They swing their barbs, hooks glistening signaling they are prepared.

Feyd turns facing the big red door across from him which the special Atreidies soldier will emerge.

Instead a low humming arises from the two black doors on his left .

As they slide open a large sluggish gladiator emerges from the first door. He sheilds his eyes from the sunlight and walks with a stupor. A second gladiator drags his feet as he exits the other door. His dazed out eyes lock on Feyd and he snarls as he lifts his heavy sword prepared to fight.

Feyd clicks his tongue enraged his uncle has gone back on his plan and not given him a fight with a warrior.

The larger gladiator slave approaches him first, yelling as he raises his sword swinging down with a slow blow Feyd easily dodges.

His feet glide across the sand stopping right behind the second gladiator slicing him across the back of the legs severing his tendons behind his knees. The gladiator falls forward to the ground. Feyd kicks him over and stabs him in the chest blood prays from the dying gladiators mouth as he locks eyes with him in death.

He retrieves his swords just as the first gladiator lunges, weapon raised high over his head. Feyd pivots and stabs him through the torso until it meets the handle. The gladiator sword drops behind him. Feyd presses his foot to the dying gladiators stomach kicking him off of his blade spraying drops of blood into the air.

The crowd erupts into cheers. Feyd paces waiting for the next door to open in the arena.

In the Barons skybox Count and Lady Fenring are not impressed looking through their binoculars. It was too easy for Feyd there was no challenge. The gladiators were obviously kept as slaves, malnourished and heavily drugged. They begin whispering angrily to each other over the Harkonnens deceitful ways within earshot of the Baron.

The Baron hovers forward in his chair staring at the large red door about to open.”Happy birthday my dearest nephew” he says aloud making the Lady and Count look back into the arena.

Feyd focuses all his awareness on the red door hearing it gear up.

The red door slams open.

Out charges a tall, muscular man. His head is shaved and he as dark pitted eyes. His skin is bronzed he wears a black loincloth with a small sword tucked in his waist belt. He holds his long sword, tilted slightly outward in the stance of an expert fighter. He advances into the arena, with his sheild turning its side toward Feyd Rautha and his group of men.

"I like not the look of this one” says one of Feyds barb-men. "Are you sure he’s drugged, m’Lord?"

“Stand ready” Feyd says with a grin. He revels in the thrill his blood is coursing knowing his life is at risk.

“He stands like a true fighter," his other barb-men says.

Feyd Rautha advanced two steps onto the sand, and studies the man.

It is not a soldier it is one of Duke Leto Atreides best sword fighters! A chill runs through Feyd exciting him. He remembers how his uncle prized this warrior as a trophy when he was captured on Arrakis.

Another of Feyds barb-men speaks up "m’Lord have the men set a barb or two in his knife arm to try him."

"I’ll set my own barbs!" Feyd snaps he’s been craving combat.

Feyd advances another five paces into the arena, playing out the moment, studying the swordsman.

Already, he knows, the experts in the stands above him are aware that something is wrong.

“We should stop the fight this one is not drugged” says the Barons Lord in waiting

"See how he stands. He should be agitated and attacking. See how he conserves his strength, how he waits! He should not wait!" The Lord in waiting continues to panic.

“Don’t ruin my nephews birthday” the Baron shrugs him off and brings up his binoculars

"Hai, Harkonnen!" the man calls. "Are you prepared to die?"

Feyd feels the excitement rising in his chest as he grips his long blade.

Deathly stillness grips the arena. Captured fighters have never issued a challenge to Na Baron.

A tight smile spreads across Feyds lips.

"Hai! Hai!" the man challenges him again and creeps forward two steps.

Feyd aims his sword almost in a greeting.

The swordsman pounces

A timed side blow misses severing the tendons of Feyds left leg by the fraction of an inch.

One of Feyds barb-men instantly hooks the man leaving a barbed shaft in his right forearm pulling back his second attack on Feyd. The hook completely buries in his flesh where the man can not withdraw it.

Feyd yells at his barb-men “GET BACK!” The nine of them encircling Feyd to protect him look to each other in confusion.

You see Feyds anger rising as you watch from the balcony. He wants to fight and prove his valor but his uncle has so many safe guards installed. One by one he is stripping them away.

The swordsman backs up, lashing the barbed shaft to his arm with his weapon. "I do not feel your little needle Harkonnen!" he shouts. He creeps forward. ”And I too can hide behind my sheild” he mocks Feyd as he bends his body backward to give it the greatest surface of protection from his half-shield.

After several challenges from the swordsman Feyd decide to give the audience a show they have never seen before. He reaches his hand to his waist and clicks off his sheild. The action does not escape the crowd everyone is stunned as they gasp.

“DAMN YOU FEYD!” The Baron shouts. He slams his fist on his chair knocking over his drink in his booth. It was the most important thing he said to him, wear the sheild to protect your life. He almost trembles knowing his future Baron is risking his life to prove himself.

Feyds barb-men know this is a mistake and call out to him begging to help.

He waves them back

Swiftly, Feyd Rautha moves to the center of the arena where all can clearly see. He crouches and waits for the advancing swordsmen.

"I do not fear you, Harkonnen swine I’ll have you dead beside me!" The swordsman yells

Feyd-Rautha grins so far the swordsman taunts are the only things that have landed.

The swordsman lunges and they dodge each before clanging sword to knife. The swordsman is on the defense. Feyd begins slicing his knife and sword together trying to gut the mans torso. The man keeps pace retreating backwards defending Feyds onslaught.

The swordsman locks his stance and stabs his sword upward at the advancing Feyd who leans back avoiding a stab through his chin. The swordsman sees Feyd off kilter and goes for another slice.

Feyd sees his movements and goes for the short stab. The swordsman shifts and quickly grabs Feyds blade handle before he can pierce his ribs. Both men struggle for power holding the handle of Feyds short blade.

Feyd aims the blade to the man neck going for the kill beginning to struggle from exhaustion. At that instant the strength of the swordsman tips the knife back at Feyd.

Feyd watches as the blade shakily inches closer and closer directly for his left eye "You will DIE, Harkonnen!" The soldier yells. Feyd lets out a maniacal laugh experiencing one of the best thrills of his life, he locks eyes with the tip of the blade and then the swordsman as he faces his certain death. “JUST DIE!" The swordsman shouts exerting all of his strength.

Feyd regains the knife and plunges the blade into the swordsman throat . He holds him close by the back of his head sword still imbedded “You fought well Atreides” Feyd whispers. He pulls out his blade and lets the man suffocates on his own blood.

He steps back a space between them sufficient enough for his long blade. Feyd heavily slashes down the soldiers chest with all his strength. He draws a deep gash severing his pectoral muscles. The agony is instant for the swords man. He drops his blade to the ground.

The man disengages himself, staggering backwards

Feyd Rautha stands in silence tilting his head to the side with a cold eeriness. His eyes watch the slowed motions of the man.

Feyd stands tall and inhales enjoying the man’s slow suffering. There is a look on the swordsman’s face now for every watcher to recognize. Death was written there.

The man staggers forward one dragging step at a time reaching for Feyd while clutching his throat.

Feyd draws back at each step to give death its space.

Sadness contorts his mouth. He slumps, then stiffens and falls face down at Feyd Rauthas feet.

Feyd advances in the silent arena, he puts his boot under the swordsman torso and rolls him onto his back to give the galleries a clear view.

There is an eruption of noise from the stands and galleries around him. They are cheering with wild abandonment.

Feyd-Rautha turns, looking up to them and raises his knife triumphantly in the air. He keeps his arm out stretched as he walks the length of the arena declaring his victory.

All are cheering in adulation except the Baron. He sits with hands to his chin in deep contemplation on Feyds defiance. The Count and his lady, both stare down at Feyd, their faces impressed with smiles to tell the good news to the Emperor. Feyd-Rautha is a worthy successor, a skilled fighter with valor, admired by his people.

Your sisters are thrilled by his skill and stunned by his brutality. As you witness hundred of thousand chanting his name and screaming for him as he walks through the arena you understand how much of an influence a Feyd has over the entire populous of Giedi Prime, they adore him.

His birthday is a holiday, his family controls the largest army in the galaxy and he is rich beyond all measure. He can take over and rule any time he wants.

Na Baron Feyd Rauthas Birthday Celebration

You and your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters walk down the long dark main halls of the Harkonnen fortress. All beautifully dressed in gowns. It is night fall and fireworks explode flickering light around the halls through the glass ceiling. The entire city is lit up in celebration of Na Baron Feyd Rauthas birthday.

You are wearing the black dress Feyd personally had designed for you. The hooded gown is sleeveless and backless with a high thigh split. A special snap seam installed to protected your modesty. The fabric of the gown swishes as you walk in heels. Your excitement growing as you are about to see Feyd again.

You arrive at the glass dome. It is an enormous structure with a 360 degree view of the city skyline. As the doors open you are greeted with the sound of Giedi Prime music the large dome is decorated with banners honoring Feyd Rautha. There is a decorated platform stage and six long tables arranged in rows to seat several hundred to dine and be entertained for the evening.

The Baron ordered you to be brought at latest moment possible to minimize your time and contact with Feyd on his birthday. You are to be sent directly back to your quarters after his ascension ceremony. Feyd is cunning and calculated he has already planned for this.

The dome is filled with dignitaries, nobles and the Harkonnen inner circle. They nod or bow as you enter depending on their status. Your Bene Gesserit sisters are gestured to a separate table. You are taken to sit with Feyd. As you reach the center of the dome you take a glance at him.

He stands from his seat at the head of the table. Wearing all black. He is dressed high collar with a regal cape that crosses his chest. He has a silver medallion of his family crest pinned to the left side at his shoulder. He looks like a very handsome dark prince.

Feyd sees you and already he wants you. So stunning in the dress he had made for you his heart rate increases. He misses you by his side, it’s been days. It’s at that moment he realizes he will be Baron and proudly rule with you at his side.

As you approach him your doe yes meet with his hunters gaze. You have to catch your breath as you are standing next to him the heat is practically radiating from him. The servant pulls out your chair and seats you at the head of the table beside Feyd.

His eyes never leave your profile, finally you take a glance over at him and smile. His hands caresses your shoulder. You lean in and give him a chaste kiss. His lips linger he needs to be inside of you again. He can’t live any other way.

“It was an honor to dedicate my 100th win to you today my Baroness” he confesses. You smile at him adoring the affectionate name. It is the first time he hasn’t called you his pet. You appreciatively plant another kiss on his lips as a reward this one is slower.

He gets riled more with each kiss you give him, the longer you sit next to him the more he has an urge to breed you. He fidgets with his signet ring on his pinky trying to channel down his sexual craving for you. He hopes the ceremony is over soon so he can reclaim you. He traces his finger over your neck your love marks from him have completely faded.

His eyes never look away from you. He trails his fingers down your back, down your shoulder, he can’t keep his hands off you. Unable to contain himself any longer he reaches beneath the table places his hand on your thigh at the slit. His fingers caress and feel your soft skin there. You let out a breath as he pulls one leg away from the other. You feel his fingers inch between your thighs as you start to go weak.

“Feyd…” he cuts you off leaning in close to your ear. He pushes his hand between your legs resting at your pussy “I had this dress made especially for my birthday” he says smiling against your ear “Because I knew..” he pops one snap of your seam “ I was going to have you..” he pops the second one “sitting right next to me” his finger slides open the third seam. You are completely exposed.

He is so calculated and sensual your core pulls tight as your breathing increases from his touch. You want him. “Take me to your chamber” you plead in a whisper to him “It’s a ceremony in my honor we’ll have to wait”’ he smirks giving you a kiss on the shell of your ear. “But I want to enjoy a little gift first” he says glancing between your legs.

He presses his fingers onto your folds finding your clit, as he pinches it and you let out a breath. Your thoughts are cut short as you grip the chair. He’s found your entrance and begins pushing his fingers inside of you. He nuzzles his nose against your ear and plants soft kisses on your jaw. When he fully inserts his fingers deeply inside your tight walls you begin falling apart. Your mind goes fuzzy as you try to remain composed.

Feyd rests his head against yours and peeks up through his lashes. He notices Count Fenring and Lady Margot watching him intently at the table. He smirks and turns you to face to him.

Your cheeks are flushed your eyes are pleading. You are drawing too much attention. He places two fingers under your chin pulling you into a kiss. Even though everyone in the vicinity knows what he’s doing at the head of the table no one dares to intervene. They avert their eyes, Feyd Rautha reigns supreme in the Harkonnen fortress especially on his birthday.

You feel overwhelmed with passion as he slowly thrusts his fingers curling them into you. His eyes search yours, he knows you are going to cum you’ve been without him too long. He fingers you faster and your walls begin to throb. As he kisses you he collects your first small moan in his mouth.

You begin to panic realizing he’s going to make you silently cum in front of all the most important people in the galaxy it makes your core even tighter. He rests his left arm around you and gently guides your lips to his neck holding you against to him.

As your lips press on his sensitive flesh you begin to suck and bite his neck to keep yourself quiet. His fingers move deeply inside of you and rub against a certain spot that makes your wall begin to rhythmically flutter. When the feeling becomes too pleasurable you instantly cum for him and bite his neck to stifle your moans.

His throat tenses and releases as your walls clench on his fingers. He holds your face to his neck wanting you to bite him once more. You sink your teeth into his neck even harder the second time as you come down leaving a mark. You hear him groan and feel a chill run through his body as you release your bite.

You quickly whisper “Did I hurt you?” He whispers back in your ear “ Yes…I want more.” He brings your hand to his cock and you feel you how hard he is from your bite. So many ideas form in your mind recently discovering his kink cabinet. You give him a soft kiss on his neck over the bite mark. You know what your birthday gift to him will be.

His name is suddenly called by his uncle.

“Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!” His uncle calls him to the stage Feyd quickly slips his fingers and lips from you. He whispers in your ear “After I receive my award make an excuse to leave and find my Page he will sneak you to my quarters” he instructs. You give him a quick kiss and he heads up to the stage. He discreetly sucks his fingers enjoying your taste as he walks up the upstairs.

Feyd approaches his uncle standing tall and reluctantly kneels in front of him. The Baron places around his neck the ancient Prime Giedi stone necklace signifying he has reached his ascension.

As the audience erupts in applause he stands back up staring down at his obese weak uncle. The only thing in his way of having you and becoming Baron is this detestable old man too evil to die.

Feyd smiles to himself, ruling Giedi Prime as Baron with his Baroness is his first goal. Becoming Emperor with you as his Empress is next.

“Feyd come speak with me in my chambers I have something I’d like to tell you in private. It’ll only take a moment” His uncle requests. Feyd looks to the table seeing you are gone. His frustration sets in wanting to be with you.

Normally he would enjoy escaping his birth day festivities but this time he wanted to be with you instead. Every second being taken from being with you infuriates him.

Once Feyd is at the Barons chambers he is stopped by the guards. Feyd waits several minutes until he is allowed to enter. His uncle as always using power plays to make him wait.

The guards open the door to his personal spa room. The Baron sits in his tub smoking hookah, two pleasure slaves on his right.

Feyd has been waiting for an opportune moment to set his plan in motion and this just might be it.

He smirks to himself at the brilliant idea he formed the day his uncle removed you from him. The day he swore he’d kill him. He will drug one of his uncles pleasure slaves with a slow acting toxin in the blood stream. One that will kill the Baron from prolonged contact. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen will die a slow and painful death. Leaving the throne to his already appointed successor. Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.

Feyd stands up taller breaking the long silence “You summoned me uncle?” He asks growing impatient. “Yes Feyd it’s about your Baroness. You've refused every pleasure slave sent to you and I understand now you’re going to save your cock for her …forever.”

He swishes his hand through the air as if trying wipe away the idea “What a waste, do you know how much your pleasure slaves beg for you? What does your wife have a cunt made of gold? ”He asks off handedly. “If you keep talking about my wife’s cunt I’m going to down you in that tub” Feyd says with his hidden rage seeping through.

His uncle chokes out a laugh “Dont be hasty, you’ll rule Giedi Prime soon enough. But I need you to show her who you really are, why you haven’t terrified her yet I don’t understand. I saw your blood lust in the arena today how much longer do you think she’ll allow that hmm?

You must dominate her and break her. If you do that, if I see you break the spirit in her defiant eyes then I’ll know you have absolute control of her. I will grant you my blessing to become Baron.” He takes a drag from his hookah pipe “But know this Feyd,I will never have a woman rule my people with my nephew as a puppet.”

Feyd knows no matter what he does his uncle will find another excuse to deny him of having you. He will use you as his weakness just as he does now. There is no pleasing the man he is a bottomless pit.

There is one way Feyd can change his fate. He points to his pleasure slaves “Uncle how can you discern which is your favorite?” He asks. “Oh they have no names or faces they are an object of satisfaction” he chuckles smoking on his pipe. Hmmm Feyd thinks, to himself, so I will have to poison them both.

Pleasurable Pain

The Page unlocks the door to Feyds room handing you the key and bows leaving your presence. You smile as you enter remembering his room all over again. As you remove your heels you already know how want to surprise him tonight.

On his birthday you are going to use his own kinks on him. You quickly take his display case keys and unlock the kink cabinet door. You pull aside several items and blend them on the sex toy table at the foot of his bed. A few cock rings, the glowing liquid, black nipple clamps, and four restraints. You will start with what you know.

You lift the blanket from his bed and lock a chained cuff to each post replacing the blanket hiding them in plain sight. You are quite pleased with yourself.

When Feyd enters the chamber looking stressed you almost change your mind to make love to him instead. You rush to him “What is it what happened?” You hold his face he looks even more stunning in the low lighting of his chamber. He immediately begins kissing you cradling your head in his hands. He pulls your hood down revealing your hair.

“I’ve done something that will secure our future. I didn’t realize the things I would do to get you back until you were taken away from me” he admits. You search his eyes “Your ascension?“ you ask trying to narrow down what he means. “Yes it will be sooner than expected, no one will be able to separate you from me again” he says tracing his thumb down the side of your face.

“I dreamt of you every night you weren’t with me“ he says softly kissing you lips “In my dreams I would fuck you” he whispers as he kisses you neck “I would fuck you until my cum spilled out of you” he says as he stops to look you in the eyes “and when I woke up I wanted you even more” he confesses. You begin slowly kissing each other lost in a passionate reunion.

You softly break the kiss looking into his eyes.

“Come with me “ you say and take his hand leading him to the bed. You sit on the edge and he begins to take his place on top of you but you stop him placing your foot at his waist keeping him at a bay. He smirks looking down at your dainty foot holding him back and then up into your eyes meeting your heated gaze.

“Take off all your clothing for me” you request. He immediately unclasps his cape letting it fall to the floor. You bite you lip watching how quickly he undresses for you.

You realize he listens and will do everything you say. Your eyes light up once he’s completely naked.

“Kneel”you point it the space infront of you. Feyd drops down on his knees infront of you

After witnessing the power and strength he has over an entire planet seeing him completely naked kneeling at your feet is surreal. You test your limits “Play with your cock Feyd-Rautha” you command.

When you see him grab his shaft in his fist and begin to pump his cock you immediately get wet. Chills cover the expanse of your body as he keeps going never breaking eye contact with you

” Feyd.. stop..” you say voice faltering from arousal. You spread your legs open in your gown. He can already see you glistening folds. “Come please me” your voice is just above a whisper due to your passion for him.

He places his hands at your waist and you rest your palms back on the bed. He tilts your hips in his hands to aim upward to his face. He grabs your legs one at a time placing them over his pale muscular shoulders. He scoops one hand around your hips pulling your pussy toward his face, sliding between your thighs on his shoulders. You let out a moan as his mouth connects between your legs.

You immediately place your hand on his head holding him close. “Feyd you feel so good” you praise him as he licks you with his warm tongue making your clit begins to pulse. He’s becoming your weakness.

You look up in then mirror on the ceiling and see he’s stroking his cock in his other hand. He’s overwhelmed with arousal as he eats your pussy. It drives you insane. You moan from the sight you need to please him.

“Feyd lay on the bed” you request breathlessly. He removes his mouth from you licking his lips. You stand as he climbs to rest in the middle. You look at his musclular pale body laying on the black sheets. His cock is already hard from eating you out and playing with himself. You lose your focus but quickly recover with your plan.

You climb on the bed and straddle his abs. You completely dressed with him naked. He places one hand on your hip and the other under your clit. You pull his hands away and his eyes look surprised.

You take his right hand and stretch his arm to lay flat on the bed. You lift the sheet and bring out the hidden leather restraint wrapping it around his wrist pulling the buckle tight. He has a wicked smile as he stares at you realizing your cleverness.

With one hand already strapped he willingly lays the other one down. You wrap and pull tight his second wrist restraint. His eyes flash with excitement from your surprise. You climb off of him and he spreads his legs letting you strap both ankles.

You stand back and admire your work, the physically dominating Feyd Rautha restrained on a bed for your pleasure. It exhilarates you beyond compare. The fact that he can’t move excites you even more you trail your hand from his ankle to his thigh.

You reach his chest and lightly scratch your nails down to his rock hard abs “If I hurt you will you tell me?” You ask sweetly. His cock twitches “Yes Baroness” he answers. The way he says your title makes your core hot “What will you say so I know if it hurts too much?”you ask innocently. You can’t help yourself as you slide your fingertip along his stiff cock.

“Red door” he says with an already established phrase. “Have you ever used ‘red door’ before?” You ask curiously. He has a devious smile as he tilts his head back reminiscing. He quickly meets your gaze again “No” he says confidently.

You are not the pain inflicting type but you see how he enjoys it so you will try for him.

You take your dress off until you are completely bare. He stares, eyes looking at your face and then your body. His heart rate increases finally seeing you exposed to him after being without you for days.

You go to the sex toy table and pick up a thick rubber ring to fit around his girth. You climb on the bed kneeling between his thighs. His cock is so large the way it towers between his thighs makes you overcome with arousal.

You regain your focus and bring the cock ring to place on him. He stops you “I want the tighter one the purple one” he requests. You smile at his boldness and exchange the rings at the table.

Before you climb on the bed he directs you further “In my night stand get the vial with the shimmering liquid inside of it.” he adds “What is it?” You ask finding the vial. “it’s lubricant..and it’s sweet“ he says with a grin that makes you blush.

You bring it with you and kneel between his legs. You glide the lube all over his already hard cock. It feels good to him as you coat his shaft up to his tip. His chest begins rising and falling as he stares at you enamored.

You take your hands and place the purple ring above his tip he watches intently. You glide the tight ring slowly all the way down his cock. He exhales sharply feeling it roll as you settle it at the base.

You watch as his tip becomes pinker and then his shaft as his tip turns red. His veins begin to show prominently pulsing. The urge to suck him or ride him is overwhelming but you also know he wants to be tortured.

You need his touch to continue, crawling up to him you begin kissing his lips. He kisses you back so needy for you. It’s been days he doesn’t want to let you go. You break the kiss and look him in his eyes “You’ll cum on my command” you say it just the way you remember him saying it to you “Yes Baroness “He says it so obediently you smile and kiss him one more time.

As you climb over his chest he stares up at your pussy inches from his face. He opens his mouth begging to taste you. But you flip around. Your face inches over his cock your pussy directly in his face.

He begins groaning as he feels you suck on him, tasting his cock sweet from the lubricant drives you insane with lust. Your pussy is spread in his face as you kneel and suck him. He yanks his wrist against the right restraint to touch you forgetting it’s chained.

He tilts his head back and watches you in the mirror on his ceiling. Your beautiful waist and back, your head slowly bobbing in his cock, he swallows thickly. He fights to stop his hips from thrusting in your mouth as you suck him so deeply. He knows you are enjoying the sweet lubricant on his cock.

He tilts his head down to see your folds are glistening more just from sucking him. When he sees your delicate fingers slide Into your pussy he loses all his resolve “ free me” he begs. You ignore him and slide your fingers in and out of your entrance sweetly moaning on his cock. He tosses his head back against the pillows chest heaving you are pleasurably torturing him.

Suddenly you stop sucking him and get up. You slowly run your finger through your slit collecting your wetness for him “Is this what you crave?” You ask bringing your fingers to his mouth. He readily sucks the arousal from you. When his eyelids flutter you quickly remove your finger from with mouth. “More ” he demands. His voice is deeper full of unbridled lust.

You reach and pinch his nipple hard instead watching his reaction. “Harder!” he commands. His voice rising from sexual frustration. He’s getting so aggressive it’s making you go timid.

You see the deep rooted insanity in his eyes wanting to feel pain. You know what he needs and go to the sex toy table returning with black nipple clamps. You kneel on the bed beside him.

His cock twitches and he tilts his hips from the bed almost unable to contain his excitement as he sees you dangle the black chain over his chest. These are different, inside the black metal clamps there are tiny needle spikes to inflict even more pain.

You clamp one nipple and then the other. You squeeze the clamps making the spikes pinch even harder into his delicate skin. You finally get a groan from him. He opens his mouth taking deep breaths as his eyes go wide feeling the arousal forming in his groin from the pain.

You gently take the chain and hold it in your fist. You pull the chain up and his nipples begin slowly stretching being pierced by the spikes. An agonizing scream finally rips from his throat as his body goes rigid, he breathes like he can’t get air to his lungs. You feel so tormented that he likes this.

You lean over and kiss him in his greatest moment of pain shocking his body rendering him senseless. His cock gets harder and begins to twitch. You release him from the kiss and pull the chain tighter.

He lets out a choked off moan as he cums without you even touching him. His cock spasms as he releases rope of after rope. His sperm covers his abs and his thighs. You release your hold on the chain and his breathing finally returns to normal. He rests his head back trying to process what happened.

You lean close to him again caressing his forehead with your hand. You shake your head in mock disappointment “I didn’t say you could cum” you say with a smile. You unclamp his nipples one at a time. The tiny piercings made from the spikes left pin pricks of blood on his nipples.

He has a wicked grin as he stares at you then he throws his head back and lets out a maniacal laugh. He realizes you are doing everything he did to you on the first night. “Let me kiss you” he says in appreciation. He is heavily panting enjoying your game his mind at ease now that the clamps are off. You shake your head no “let me kiss where you need it the most” he begs looking at the wetness between your thighs “no reward for you yet” you say sweetly.

You leave him tied and dab the blood from his nipples and clean him up wiping all the cum from him.

When he played this game before he was usually being flogged choked and humiliated by his pleasure slaves, lots of spit swapping and pain. It would take him over an hour to finally cum and they would fight over who drank it.

Then he would tie and torture them not caring for their pleasure but enjoying the way they screamed like unhinged animals as he fucked them to the point of injury. Looking back it feels like an out of body experience. He can’t even trace back to when it began but he believes as an adolescent his uncle must’ve made the arrangements.

He is deep in thought as you settle between his legs again. This time you have the glowing arousal fluid he doesn’t take notice. You slip his cock ring off. You are going to coat his length and have him push the arousal fluid it inside of you.

Of all his sex things you love this liquid the most the orgasms are so intense you feel the pleasure in every space of your body like your are floating in ecstasy.

You watch his eyes widen but you’ve already slathered his cock tip. “This is for females its going to make me cum instantly “ he cries out. You immediately close the bottle you didn’t realize.

He begins to feel his cock tip pulsing he closes his eyes and grits his teeth as his face flushes. “What do I do!” You panic. He opens his eyes and stares at you he can’t even think his cock is hardening as all the blood rushes to his tip and begins pulsing. His pupils have gone so wide the only color showing is black “I’m going to cum” is all he manages to say.

You quickly climb on his lap and sink down on his length. You feel the pinch of stretching on his size too quickly as you both let out moans.

Feyd is going listless breathing through his teeth, he holds out with every fibre of his being wanting to give you an orgasm. He is grateful you didn’t coat his full cock.

You place your hands on his chest and begin to ride him. The arousal fluid spreads quickly hitting directly into your cervix.“ Feyd your cock feels so good” you moan out as you clench on him.

You begin riding up and down on him wanting the feeling to last forever. He bucks his hips back into you as you both make sounds of pleasure. The arousal fluid softens your walls so well you want more you want him harder and deeper.

You work so hard your pace begins to falter you can’t even ride him, the feeling is so intense you just moan with your hands on his abs. “free me” his voice brings you back to the planet.

You lock eyes with him and nod. You reach and unbuckle one of his hands and then the other. He rises up against you with his powerful chest and wraps you in his arms hugging you tightly.

With his ankles still in restraints he places one hand on the bed for leverage and hold you to him as he slams his cock up into you.

You scream he’s going so hard. You hug him around his neck feeling his abs contracting as he thrusts. He begins pounding into you. The arousal fluid working perfectly the harder he fucks the more pleasurable it feels for you. As you gasp for air he grunts against your ear fucking you to pieces.

He doesn’t slow down not once for anything his hips clap between your legs until you cum. Your clit pluses as your walls flutter and begin to milk his cock. You place your mouth on his moaning throat as you bite him as hard as you can. He deeply groans from the pain and bursts rope after rope inside of you filling you with his cum. You whimper on his neck the feeling is so euphoric.

He feels his cock empty inside of you as he holds you in his lap panting heavily in your ear. You release your teeth from his neck. You have clearly marked him. You see the deep red circle of your bite and plant a kiss. He hugs you closer and presses your head to rest on his shoulder. He strokes down your back and rests his head to yours enjoying the intimate moment.

You suddenly sit up remembering he’s still restrained. You turn to the side in his lap unbuckling one ankle and then the other. He pulls his knees up bringing you back to him in his lap. “You want to see some thing” he asks with a smile. “Of course” you say. “It’s something I do every year on my birthday.” He admits. You both get out of bed. He puts a black cloaked robe on you then he puts one on himself and you sneak out of his chambers.

Secret Celebration

He holds your hand and guides you through the fortress trying to remain unseen. There are still guests in the halls . When he peeks around a corner and sees a group of delegates he puts a finger to his lips signaling you to remain silent . He waits until they aren’t looking then takes your hand and you slip unseen into a darkened corridor. He finally brings you up a large flight of stairs to a pair of stone doors at the top.

As you enter everything is black marble it is a large space with a giant scale window as a back drop with a view of the Capitol. All the lights are off only the moonlight shines through the gigantic window.

From what you can tell it looks like a spa lobby. He takes you to a smaller corridor with several opaque glass doors. He stops at the sixth one and pushes it open.

There is a floor to ceiling window viewing the capital and a large indoor rock pool in the center of the room. Feyd pulls his robe off and gets in halfway. He waits for you to remove your cloak and holds his hand out to make sure you get in safely over the flat marble edge.

The water is warm and relaxing. You smile as you sink in to your neck and then submerge your head fully. You resurface and it is quite dark in the room aside from the city lights and the glowing moon shining in the window. You look over and see Feyd resting back against a marble edge. He gestures you to come.

You swim over to the shallow end and he pulls you next to him.

Feyd rests his head back against the marble ledge to stare at the city lights, you join him and do the same “Get ready” he says. Suddenly one by one fireworks begin to burst across the entire city until they expand the entire skyline. It lights up the entire room.

You sit up and stare at the white bursts for miles you hear the sound of horns and drums begin. The entire capitol is having an enormous celebration for him.

“Feyd aren’t you supposed to be at your party?” you suddenly realize in shock” he grabs you by the upper arm pulling you to straddle his lap in the water. “I’d rather be here with you ” he says with certainty.

You stare at his full lips and into his blue eyes you are falling madly for him your mind starts racing remembering all of your Bene Gesserit training your first loyalty is to the order. You try to look back at the fireworks to gather your mind but he quickly brings his hand out of the water guiding your face back to his.

Your breathing is labored as you stare into his eyes. He gazes into yours like you are his only object of affection in the entire universe, before you realize it you are kissing him.

It’s heavier and different it makes your heart ache from guilt. As you kiss him the guilt of your betrayal to the Bene Gesserits worries you less and less until not at all.

“I want to fuck you while we watch the fire works he says” he says. You look in his eyes and smile, he loves sex so much. He stands up holding you and you wrap your legs around his waist kissing him as he carries you through the water to the other ledge closer to the window. He grabs your slippery waist turning you over chest flat on the marble ledge.

He reaches his hand between your legs beneath the water. He checks your entrance the water sealed you tight you aren’t ready. He lifts your waist out of the water so your stomach and chest are on the marble ledge. Then he kneels as devours your pussy from behind.

Your moans echo the room not expecting it. As you begin to get wet he slides his finger in working you open. Your mind is going blank just taking everything he’s giving you. He rests one knee on the underwater ledge to be level with you. When presses his cock tip to your entrance and you gasp. Your heart is already pounding wildly in your chest.

His cock penetrates you hard stuffing you full. You let out a deep moan as you try to adjust to his size. This time he lets you. He pulls you back into the water so your knees rest on the ledge. He places one foot on the on the floor and the other on then ledge with you.

When he thrusts into you the water makes you move all around. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and presses your chest flat on the marble for more leverage. As his thrusts get harder you whimper and moan trying to stay sane.

He loves the feeling of your cunt being stretched around his thick cock. He pulls you back to him and begins to whisper in your ear as he thrusts unable to contain his arousal for you “You enjoy being stretched around my cock don’t you, I love the sounds you make for me.” You can’t form words only deeper moans as you nod.

He presses himself fully inside of you smacking his hips into you as his cock pushes into your cervix “I can barely fit inside of you and still your pussy tries to suck me in” he says voice straining voice full of arousal as he thrusts harder. He feels you clench on him and he groans in pleasure. His cock twitches knowing his reward when he makes you cum. He gives your cheeks a nice smack for feeling too good.

He leans over you pressing your chest flat on the marble. He places his hands on top of yours intertwining his fingers locking you down.

He licks a long wide stripe up the middle of your back starting between your shoulder blades.

You begin letting out pleasurable moans. Your eyes close enjoying the feeling of his wet slick tongue exploring your body.

When he turns animalistic like this it sends chills up your spine triggering your climax. Your nipples harden as he settles his tongue at the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks there with such fervor your throat pulses as he creates the bruise, you rhythmically clench on his cock.

He bites his black teeth into the delicate skin of your throat and your walls begin throbbing as the tightness in your core intensifies. He takes one arms to wrap around your torso pulling you back to him and shortens his thrusts.

They begin to pierce through your tight walls as he sucks more loving bruises into your neck. You are moaning so loudly it’s edging him on. He begins to grunt against your neck feeling his cock swell tighter ready to cum.

Feyd suddenly stops his movements, holding you still. He hears voices from the lobby. You are both panting loudly as he covers your mouth.

He hears the hushed voice of one of his uncle’s his advisors “Yes he is here m’Lord however he’s in the throes of passion with his Baroness and it being his birthday I didn’t want to disturb him.” “The throes of passion?!“ his uncle angrily whispers

“Yes m’Lord it was louder before but if were quiet maybe you can still hear them.” They all fall silent to listen . Feyd remembers his uncles words about dominating you into submission and he smirks. “ To get them to leave I’m going to need you to scream like bloody murder for me” he whispers and you nod.

He pushes you down flat against the marble lifting your submerged half out of the water. He pins you down with his hand at the back of your neck as he begins to use you.

“Time to fill my tight little cunt up” he yells spanking you as he thrusts. The distraction sends shocks through your body and makes your clit pulse. He spanks you again and you let out a loud moan as your mind goes fuzzy.

His breaths get heavier as he plows his cock harder into you and your body goes listless. Your moans are unending as he fucks you onto the marble.

“Scream for me! “ he yells and he spanks you hard as you moan in pleasure. He spanks you again and again and again until it begins to hurt and your brain clicks you are supposed to pretend scream in pain. The sound rips from you throat so loudly it reverberates the walls. It sends a chill through Feyd.

The Baron and his men look to each other all too stunned to speak “The boy listens after all “ the Baron finally speaks up with an grin “He’s finally training that defiant wife of his, I just need to hear it a moment more and we can leave” the Baron listens as you scream “Feyd please…no …please…stop!” followed by a blood curdling scream .

A deep laugh reverberates in the Barons chest he loves the terrified screams of women. Especially being caused by a Harkonnen “She won’t be right for weeks, once the healers stitch her up she will no longer be a problem” the Baron chuckles to his men as they depart the spa.

Feyd hears the noises of his uncle and his advisors leaving the spa.

He pulls you back up against him and covers your mouth to make you orgasm without them hearing. He pinches your clit until it begins throbbing then he rubs it increasing in pressure until you are overwhelmed moaning into his hand.

He thrusts into you at his hardest. Pummeling into your body until he can no longer hold out. He releases his load into you as you both orgasm. You moan pleasurably as your walls milk him of his seed. His hips stutter as he groans emptying his cock into you. He releases your mouth and it takes you both several moments to recover.

The fireworks slowly begin to die down and you rest your head back against his shoulder. He always fucks you until you’re exhausted. “Feyd I’m tired” you admit. “Your chambers are closer let’s sleep there tonight” he decides. You collect your robes and sneak out together.

A Change of Fate

When you get to your chambers your handmaiden sleepily opens the door. When she sees Feyd-Rautha her eyes widen in fear “m’Lord, Na Baroness “she stutters as she bows ushering you inside . She dare not remind Feyd of his uncles rule of his visitation restriction for fear he will slit her throat.

Feyd looks around your sitting area at all the books you’ve collected from the library on your tables. He notices one stack in particular. Every spine on each book reads ‘Harkonnen’ his eyes widen in apprehension, you’ve been digging into his family history.

You open the doors to your chambers and he sees the room is full of color and life. Accustomed to the monotone grayscale of the fortress he is stunned. There are vibrant flowers , paintings, candles, decorative vases and sculptures through our your bed chamber. All of the linens are patterned in shimmering colors of gold and powder blue. A pillow of each color and shape matches the bedding.

There are gifts all over your room some even unopened. When he slowly realizes they are for your pregnancy he hesitates unable to say anything. You see the concerned look in his eyes and smile lovingly gesturing him to come to you.

He holds you close and you take your hand to his temple. Your fingers delicately caress him there to transfer him calming energy. After a moment his eyes soften and he feels the apprehension of fatherhood lifting and changing.

His fear is replaced with serenity. The female he cares for the most is carrying his heir and he will cherish her. Whether he can be a good father or not is a test of time. His mind begins expanding onto a new intrusive thought.

He can barely even remember his own father, he has only known the Baron. He struggles to recall a distorted memory . His uncle screaming at him that his father had betrayed the Harkonnen name and he would no longer be the alias Feyd-Rautha Rabban but now Harkonnen. It is a core memory he can stem his resentment from.

You grow weary and place your hand on his chest. You are barely able to keep your eyes open. His eyes refocus and realize it is very late. He locks his feelings deep inside of him self again. He needs to be prepared for another fateful event happening soon.

As you go to rinse your face and cleanse your mouth. He calls your hand maiden, “Find my Page have him bring my clothing and personal effects here I’m staying the night” she nods hesitantly and departs.

She finds his Page relaying Feyds message and ensures her reputation by reporting Feyds defiance to the Barons Lord in waiting. The Lord in waiting shoos her away something far more misfortunate has happened in the Barons chamber. He and two of his pleasure slaves are found naked and unresponsive. Their skin displaying a faint purple hue. Fearing disease or an airborne poison they seal the chamber until the healers can arrive.

You emerge from the basin room yawning as you disrobe and climb into bed. Feyd looks over you and smiles as he takes his robe off and climbs into bed next to you.

He stretches in the feeling of your silk sheets caressing him all over his body. He pulls you to him and brings your arm across his chest making you hug him. You press a kiss to the bite mark on his neck“ Happy Birthday Feyd” you say as you close your eyes. He smiles and pets your head. Slaying a warrior and getting his Baroness back have been his favorite gifts. Another secret joy fills his heart as you both drift off to sleep.

Early the next morning there is a banging at the door. Feyd sits up and gets dressed already rehearsed. The handmaiden opens the door and allows the visitors entry into the seating room. Once Feyd is dressed he kneels at the side of your bed as you sleep, he strokes his thumb down your jaw, if all goes according to plan he can have you forever. He stands up prepared for the onslaught of the day.

He emerges from the bed chamber into the entry sitting room . Three advisors and six guards are waiting. The lead advisor bows “Lord Feyd Rautha the Baron has fallen ill, your presence is requested at once” Feyd doesn’t respond he tightly presses his lips not to smile and gestures them to lead. He follows them out of the room to the medical bay of the fortress.

Word travels quickly through the fortress and into the populous during the early morning hours on Giedi Prime. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is dying.

To Be Continued…

Part 4 Madness & Mayhem Harkonnen Reunion |Feyds Depraved Kink |Long Live the Baron4

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#feydrautha x #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feydrautha #feyd x you #feyd x reader #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd smut #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler smut #smut #fanfic #feyd rautha #feyd #feyd rautha smut #austin butler x #austinbutler #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #austin butler fandom #austin butler x you #austin butler reader #austinbutler x #fanfiction #Feyd Rautha x fem! #austin butler x reader

[pride-of-storm]

i ran out of tags a FOURTH TIME

OH HEY A FIFTH GOD F U C K I N DAMMIT ugh okay i'm gonna call it done even if i. can't add organizational tags to this one. sorry!

well, if you're using search instead of tags then here:

storm's posts

you can ignore this

personal (?) (ehhh for this one probably not? but the sequence started out more personal so)

#i understand the reasons for limits but also pls support my coping mechanisms for my anxieties #i did articulate my position on abortion tho so it's nice to set that in words that feel true #but-- fuck. jesus. the entire american economy is built on coercion #which means every argument ends up framed as 'less offensive coercion' vs 'yeah okay it's coercive But it has the immediate effect we want' #fuck u 140 character limit are u fuckin old school twitter #augh ugh i know you gotta set limits but i Am going to continue to complain when the limits inconvenience me #anyway. raising interest rates is fundamentally an effort to give workers less bargaining power vs employers #and Also is gonna crush home building and buying rates in a time of insufficient housing #(esp in my area) #which is Not gonna help with landlords jacking rent costs by 40 fuckin % bc the demand is high enough and supply low enough #or with the corporations making record profits bc people gotta fucking buy food no matter what #food and medical care and Basic Functions of Life are never fairly priced under unrestricted capitalism #they aren't opt in! they aren't even opt out! #if people can't choose to just Not then supply and demand is not an equitable market force! #anyway. i wanna tear the bellies outta industry lobbies and watch them shovel their intestines back into their bodies #so that maybe we can get Useful Shit Done while they're busy not dying like the rest of us plebs #excpet our elections are so reliant on funding which mostly comes from lobbies #which means officials gotta vote for their lobbies' positions to keep their seats #which means votes come down to what lobbies pay most #and the lobbies that can pay most are always Always based on carving every fucking penny out of their workers #which means life gets shittier and shittier for everyone except the shitheads making immediate profit! #maybe i just don't know enough about the stock market but it Sure Seems to incentivize immediate profit at Any Future Cost #such as. like. the planet?? all the organic resources on the planet?? every person on the planet?? #Any person on the planet. fuck. #hey. hey lobbies? i know it's gonna suck real bad for the next ten years or so But #i know. it's hard. i am sorry. #but in fifty years the current plan is gonna hurt real bad anyway #please. it's gonna hurt you less to change now than it will hurt to change later #anyway government subsidies have been wildly skewed by lobbying and i just wanna bounce everyone's heads like basketballs until they Think #this is not a good outcome for society! a bad outcome for society now is a bad outcome for you in ten years!

[fucktoyfelix]

One criticism I occasionally of sex work is that no one can consent to the work, because money is inherently coercive. This highlights to me how many people remain stuck in a mindset where sexual consent is the one and only kind of consent that matters. That the violation of sexual consent, is unique in it's capacity to traumatize. I like to describe myself as a 'survival call center survivor'. My experience was that I needed money to live so desperately, I would have taken any job, no matter how mentally demeaning or emotionally destructive. I worked for Comcast under that type of coercion for two years and I nearly took my own life under those conditions. I was screamed at daily. 8 hours a day, not a moment to have my own thoughts. I resorted to opioids daily just to get through my days so I could make rent. The biggest difference between my work at Comcast and my work as a sex worker, is that at Comcast, I was legally recognized as a worker, which meant I was entitled to certain benefits and legal protections. If anyone at my place of work made me feel unsafe or uncomfortable, there would be swift remediation.

The health insurance and the 401k served as additional coercive factors, but I was able to use that 401k to leave the country for 10 months instead of the other, more permanent solution I was considering. When I returned to the United States I began participating in sex work because I love sex and sexuality. I loved making porn. I loved meeting touch starved people and helping them feel less alone!! My sex work was creative, rewarding, and profoundly fulfilling. I had control over my work in ways I never did working jobs people consider "real" jobs. But I was also extremely privileged to have never felt unsafe. Those safety concerns can only be addressed when all sex work is recognized and afforded all the same legal protections that every other job enjoys. All jobs are coercive. No one can 100% consent to any job because we all need money to survive. But until we end capitalism, not all of them have to be unsafe.

#sex workers rights #sex work positive #sex positive #kink positive

[gothhabiba]

I understand what people mean by prison abolition, but what does it mean in practice to abolish the family? I've never quite got it - who is raising children? How does it work? I'm asking in good faith, I've just always been a bit embarrassed to ask anyone

Like positions that are “anti-work” or against “gender,” the thing being objected to is more detailed and specific than the range of meanings that can reasonably or semi-reasonably be assigned to the word in question (“work,” “gender,” “family”)—which is why these propositions and programmes can have a bit of a PR problem. And, as with all terms that position themselves against something (e.g. "anti-psychiatry"), the term "family abolition" can be taken up by people with a range of different positions who disagree amongst themselves on some issues. In general, though, no one objects to "people living together or being emotionally close to each other" or "children not being left to roam about at random and get eaten by wolves" or anything.

Rather, anti-capitalist objections to "the family" tend to hinge on objections to:

parental rights, or "the special legal powers of parents to control major aspects of their children’s lives," which function as "quasi-property interests" more than anything that is in the best interest of children (link explicitly relates to U.S. law). Parents legally control where their children live, whether and where they go to school, what information they have access to, what level of freedom of mobility they have, what medical care they receive and don't receive, and what they may do with their own bodies, and are legally allowed to physically assault their children.

relatedly, the lack of legal autonomy that children possess (this is also often discussed under the banner of "children's rights" or objections to "adultism").

the positioning of "the family" as the only economic or social "safety net" in an economy and a society which provide no other one (creating an artificial "structural scarcity" of care). In a society which is otherwise dominated by "economic competition between atomized individuals," the family must be relied on—and yet, for some people (whose families cannot or will not provide living space or financial support in an emergency; whose families are abusive and physically or psychically dangerous to be around or rely on; who will not receive help or emotional support from a spouse or family unit without making serious concessions on the level of their personhood being basically respected; Black working-class people in whose communities the nuclear family unit has been deliberately prevented from forming by government intervention), the family cannot be relied on.

the way that the positioning of "the family" as the only safety net therefore constitutes economic coercion that works to keep people (especially women and LGBT, disabled and/or transracially adopted people) in abusive or exploitative situations, and that works to create incentives for working-class women (whose employment is generally less secure) to make themselves erotically desirable to men & disincentives for doing anything else.

the idea that housework, gestational labour & childbirth, and childcare are tasks "naturally" falling to the "mother" ("mother" as a "natural category"), such that the social, political, and economic nature of these tasks, and the economic and political discourses that mobilise the creation of our concept of "motherhood," are obscured.

Thus the objection is to "the family" as a unit of social reproduction under capitalism—as a legal, political entity that structures inheritance, taxes, health insurance, "race" and ethnicity, &c., and therefore works as a sort of interface between the capitalist state and the individual.

So the programme of "family abolition" involves, firstly, the control of the means of production on the part of the proletariat (this is a communist programme—the point isn't to remove the safety net of the family while keeping capitalism in place, but rather the idea is that without capitalism this ultimately abusive safety net ought not to be needed); and then the abolition of marriage as a legal institution; the abolition of parental rights; the putting in place of measures for the elderly and disabled to be cared for regardless of whether they have family alive who are both able and willing to care for them; the forming of social networks at will; and, depending on who you ask, the communal raising of children (which involves ceasing to privilege "parent" as a legal title automatically conferred upon biologically creating a child).

Obviously, toddlers who do not yet understand things about the world including "causation" and "mortality" will need on occasion to be restrained from running blithely into the jaws of wolves &c. The argument is just that coercion of this sort should be legitimately in the best interests of the child; not performed by two people who need answer for their actions, up to and including battery of their children, in no way other than saying that they "plausibly believe this to be necessary to control, train or educate their child"; and walked back in measure as the child gains the ability to assert their own desires.

Probably no one has a perfect solution 100% worked out—life is messy, and we don't know what the future will look like—but having a perfect solution 100% worked out should not be a prerequisite for noticing that the current situation is abusive and untenable.

#family abolition #nuclear family #family #capitalism #communism #questions #Anonymous

[probablyasocialecologist]

“The ‘war on drugs’ may be understood to a significant extent as a war on people. Its impact has been greatest on those who live in poverty, and it frequently overlaps with discrimination directed at marginalised groups, minoritiesand Indigenous Peoples. In our reporting and experience, we have found that such discriminatory impact is a common element across drug policies with regard to the widest range of human rights, including the right to personal liberty; freedom from torture, ill-treatment and forced labour; fair trial rights; the right to health, including access to essential medicines, palliative care, comprehensive drug prevention and education, drug treatment, and harm reduction; the right to adequate housing; freedom from discrimination and the right to equal treatment before the law; right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment; cultural rights and freedoms of expression, religion, assembly and association. Globally, drug control has had massive costs for the dignity, humanity and freedom of people of African descent, with reports showing that people of African descent face disproportionate and unjust law enforcement interventions, arrests and incarceration for drug-related offences. In various countries, the ‘war on drugs’ has been more effective as a system of racial control than as a tool to reduce drug markets. Policing interventions based on racial profiling remain widespread, whilst access to evidence-based treatment and harm reduction for people of African descent remains critically low. Around the world, women who use drugs face significant stigma and discrimination in accessing harm reduction programmes, drug dependence treatment and basic health care. Although one in three people who use drugs are women, women constitute only one in five people in treatment. Women are also disproportionately affected by criminalisation and incarceration, with 35% of women in prison worldwide having been convicted of a drug-related offence compared to 19% of men. The causes of women’s interaction with the criminal justice system in relation to drugs are complex, often linked to other factors such as poverty and coercion, and may reflect systemic gender inequality in society more broadly. Of note, most women in prison for drug related offences have little education. Under international law, States that have not yet abolished the death penalty may only impose capital punishment for the ‘most serious crimes’, meaning crimes of extreme gravity involving intentional killing. Drug offences clearly do not meet this threshold. However, drug-related offences are still punishable by death in over 30 countries, and human rights experts have raised concerns about evidence of its discriminatory impact on individuals belonging to minorities. Everyone without exception has the right to life-saving harm reduction interventions, which are essential for the protection of the right to health of people who use drugs. However, according to UN data, only 1 in 8 people with drug dependence have access to appropriate treatment, and the coverage of harm reduction services remains very low. The situation is particularly critical for women, LGBTIQ+ persons, and other marginalised groups, for whom harm reduction and treatment services may not be adapted or respond to their specific needs. Women and LGBTIQ+ persons also face even higher levels of stigma, including self-stigma, and discrimination than men who use drugs.

As the world grows older, drug use among people over 65 has also increased. The COVID-19 pandemic had a negative impact on the health and well-being of older persons, and studies show an increased use of pain relievers, tranquillizers, and sedatives among this age group. Older drug users are also more often using the dark web, social media, and online forums to obtain illicit substances resulting in a rise of drug-related deaths among older populations. The criminalisation of substances traditionally used by Indigenous Peoples such as the coca leaf can also result in the suppression, undermining and marginalization of traditional and indigenous knowledge systems and medicine, which has wide-ranging health impacts and is rooted in discriminatory hierarchies and conceptions. Forced eradication of crops, including through the aerial spraying of highly hazardous pesticides, can cause serious harm to the environment and clean water, as well as to the health and welfare of Indigenous communities. Indigenous Peoples that might be affected by these and other drug control operations must be meaningfully consulted, and guarantees should be given that their lives, cultural practices, lands and natural resources are not violated. Criminal laws and the punitive use of administrative and other sanctions stigmatise already marginalised populations. Criminalisation results in significant barriers to access to health services (including those for HIV and palliative care) and in other human rights violations. As called for by the UN system Common Position on drug-related matters, drug use and possession for personal use should be decriminalised as a matter of urgency. Drug use or dependence are never a sufficient justification for detaining a person. Compulsory drug detention and rehabilitation centres need to be closed and replaced with voluntary, evidence-informed, and rights-based health and social services in the community.

#drugs #war on drugs #prohibition

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 15: Noncon

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6908

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, familial death, noncon, like super noncon, debt, monetary coercion, references to prostitution and public use, implied master/slave dynamic, piv sex, blowjob, throat fucking, double penetration featuring a Fatui debt collector 

A/N: at this point I think anything I write for a Harbinger is just going to be exceptionally dark and gross so tbh consider that a warning in and of itself. This one’s rough so please pay attention to the tags before proceeding any further! I love you guys and I want you all to stay safe so feel free to skip this one if you think you need to!

⭐

Snow crunches under heavy boots as you make your way through the small village you called home. It was late, and the moon was out. Its muted, hazy glow casts over the snowdrifts and the shoveled heaps piled away from silent doorways to make it all glitter and shine like mountains of precious silver. You wished that was what it was. Wished you could dig your hands into it and scoop out palmfulls to spend on food and clothes, firewood for the hearth at home so you wouldn’t have to break your back chopping it for yourself every day. Maybe even a new comb for your hair, as a treat. 

You would have been able to afford anything at all if it was something of actual worth stretching out around you as far as the eye could see, so of course you would splurge on a comb. Perhaps even two. And a dress, a fancy one that would make the other girls green with jealousy while the boys threw themselves at your feet like shameless dogs. Anything and everything would be just at your fingertips in this perfect world of whimsical fantasy. Even your freedom. 

It was a nice thought. A tempting one, even. But if snow could be somehow transmuted into silver or any other precious metal then Snezhnaya would be the financial capital of Teyvat rather than the far distant Liyue. Your father had told you about it on occasion, what kind of place it was. How bustling with business and commerce the streets were. You’d thought it sounded like a strange but exciting place. So much potential for success bursting at the seams, just waiting to be struck upon, that you’d once even dreamed of going there yourself some day. Of making a future beyond the hopeless deadend you saw here. 

But that was little more than a long forgotten flight of fancy now, much like your silver-snow. Fantasies were just idle hopes and wishes for children who hadn’t yet learned the crushing truths of the world, and the weight of that sags your shoulders as you work to jostle your front door open. You were tired and cold, and quickly running out of options. 

The door finally gives way with a creak, and you stumble inside to knock the snow off your boots before bending to unlace them. You’re halfway through the motion, one shoe already undone and half kicked off, when you suddenly realize you’re not alone. 

You aren’t sure if it’s a shift of movement at your peripheral, if the redistribution of weight had displaced one of the old floorboards to issue a squeak of warning or if it’s something in the air that just feels … occupied. But you’re immediately aware of it on an intrinsic level and your heart seems to play hopscotch across your ribcage. Frozen to the spot, you just listen to the resounding silence for a long, horrible beat. Then your head comes up to glance across the room at the open doorway that leads into the small kitchen. A warm flicker of light greets your horrified gaze, taunts you with a beckoning sputter. You certainly hadn’t left the lantern burning this entire time, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have even had a home to return to. 

Slowly straightening, you hastily shove your feet back into your boots and reach for the knife hidden under your jacket. You grasp it in a tight, squeezing fist, just the way your father had shown you, and creep towards the doorway. It feels like you're hardly breathing but your pulse still jumps when the floor creaks under you. Nothing to be concerned about though, you try to tell yourself. They would have heard you come in anyway, especially since your damn door never wanted to open right. It was fine if they knew you were there because you knew where they were and it was your house, so you still had the upper hand. Probably. Maybe. 

Oh, please don’t let there be more than one of them, you pray to whichever god might be listening. 

Edging yourself close to the entryway, you’re more than a little relieved to find that it is indeed just a single figure standing over your rickety dinner table and you almost breathe out a heavy sigh. But then that shadowy mass turns, the cast of the lantern illuminating the face, and you nearly drop your knife in surprise. 

“L - lord Regrator?” 

He smiles at you, always soft and always gentle. “Hello, pet. Finally off work are we?” 

You just stand there, mouth moving wordlessly around any number of things you could have said to him in that moment. ‘What are you doing in my house?’ for starters. Maybe even an impulsive ‘why are you sneaking around at night like a thief?’ But all you finally manage to croak out is a threadbare, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, my lord” because you simply don’t know what else to say. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I haven’t been here for very long.” Still smiling, still soft, he reaches out with an elegantly poised gloved hand as if to touch the top of your table but he stops short. Seems to hesitate. Thinks better of it, and instead sweeps those long fingers outward to gesture at the kitchen at large. “Your home is lovely. Quaint.” 

Pantalone hides his grimace exceptionally well. You only barely manage to make out the slightest tension that settles around his mouth in the cast of the burning lantern that sits sentry on the table between you and him, tossing odd shadows across his face. His contempt for your lodgings is clear though and you self consciously dart your eyes around the room as if seeing it all for the first time. The old, dilapidated iron stove that looked like it was on its last leg, the crack in the wall where the foundation was starting to give, bit by bit, and the rusting coffee carafe sitting in the tub sink. It probably did look abhorrent compared to what he was in all likelihood used to but it was all you’d ever known. The only thing you’d ever had that couldn’t be taken away. 

Swallowing hard, you center your focus back on him and try not to think about how much he looked like a finely dressed specter standing in the ruins of your life like this. Beautiful and nice to look at but you knew too well the venomous fangs he was hiding beneath that deceptively pleasant veneer. Like a wraith come to life to haunt you endlessly. Tirelessly. Ghoulishly. 

“Please forgive me, my lord.” You whisper into the eerie stillness. “Had I known you would be coming I would have cleaned and made preparations. Would you like me to make tea?” 

“Not at all.” 

You wince, and try not to wither. “Then is there something I can help you with?” 

Noising a thoughtful sound, Pantalone casually shifts into motion and you very nearly go scuttling backwards to escape him. But, to your surprise, he doesn’t approach you and instead wanders over to the stove to give it a shuttered but no less judgemental inspection. You start to bring your hand up to wipe the beading sweat from your brow only to abruptly realize you were still holding onto the knife. 

Stealing a look at where you’ve got it clutched in a death grip, you quickly decide to keep it out for the moment. You very well might need it. 

“One would think that old fool would have used some of the loan he borrowed to do a bit of upkeep on the place.” He murmurs, more to himself than you and perfectly offhand, but it still makes your chest squeeze tight. You probably should have seen this coming but the hurt catches you off guard. Makes you hate him just a little more. 

“I’m sorry my home is not to your liking, lord Regrator. I could have met you somewhere else if you’d just - -“

“Oh?” Pantalone cuts across you, neither raising his voice nor sharpening his tone. It’s the same soft, gentle refinement in his voice as usual that makes you cower in the doorway when he turns to make his long cloak flutter outward like a dancer. “And why would I give you the chance to run out on me like that? I know this isn’t exactly your area of expertise, dear, but surely even you must know that that’s just bad for business.”

You find yourself prickling defensively. For him to even insinuate such a thing … “I wouldn’t do that, my lord. I’ve been working hard to pay you back this entire time, just like we agreed. I even got a second job at the mill so I could make ends meet and still be able to make my payments on time. To up and leave after all the effort I’ve put into - -“

“Then can you give me your next payment now?” 

“I … my lord, I still have another week to get it.” 

Looking at you through the creeping gloom, Pantalone finally allows a small frown to tug at his mouth. “So that’s a ‘no’? Such a pity. I’d really rather hoped you would be better than your father.” 

You feel like you’re going to be sick. Hot and nauseous, and increasingly dizzy, you just stare at him for a drawn out beat before finally giving your head a numb shake. “No. That’s not what you said. My lord, you agreed - -“

“Let me explain something to you.” He cuts across you again, the faintest note of displeasure coloring his voice now. Sedately, he folds his hands together and moves towards you with the slow, rhythmic thud of his boots on the floorboards making your heart pound even faster. It sounded deafeningly loud in your cotton stuffed ears. “Loans are not granted out of goodwill and charity. There are terms that must be agreed upon by both parties before any mora can trade hands. Would you care to take a guess what terms your father took his loan out on?” 

You shake your head and back up a step, still clutching the knife beside your hip. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to run, flee as fast as you can and never look back, but that would just make things worse, wouldn’t it? Prove that his wariness to trust you was well founded. You couldn’t afford to test the limits of his benevolence any further, figuratively or literally, so you stand your ground even when he comes within arms reach where he finally stops. Tilts his head to one side and then draws a calm breath. 

“Twenty-five percent interest. That is what accumulates every single day you don’t make a payment in full. To put it in layman’s terms, the only way for you to even make a dent in your fathers loan would be to pay around, oh, let’s say … 16000 mora a week?” 

Your knees almost give out right from under you. That couldn’t be true. There was no way … “Do — do you really expect me to be able to pay that much?” 

Softly tutting at you, Pantalone fixes you with a truly pitying look. “Oh, sweet girl. I would never ask something so unreasonable of you. But, as it stands, you did agree to take responsibility for the loan. Rather than a personal expectation on my part, you now have the obligation to pay it back regardless of my own personal thoughts on the matter.” 

“What choice did I have?” You croak. “What else was I supposed to say when you showed up at his funeral and started talking about stuff I have no knowledge of? You made it sound like I didn’t even have a say in it.” 

“Well, that’s hardly my fault if you agreed to something without understanding the full consequences.” 

You were starting to pant even though you hadn’t moved for some time now. It was like you were a tea kettle on the brink of boiling, so hot and messed up inside that you weren’t sure what the inevitable explosion was going to look like. You wanted to scream at him, throw yourself on the floor and sob like an inconsolable baby. You wanted to curse him, spit at him, hurt him — hurt him? 

Your fingers desperately clench around the knife to make sure it was still there. 

You could hurt him. 

Maybe you should hurt him. 

“You’re a monster,” You hiss, finding strength in your conviction, in the blade that had become a part of your arm, an extension of it. Stiffly, you shift to the side so he won’t see the way you readjust your grip on the handle to make sure you’ve got a good hold on it. “A twenty-five percent interest rate? That’s insane. No average person could pay that back in a single lifetime and you know that. You’re just a thief taking advantage of people.” 

Seamlessly, Pantalone’s placid little smile slips back into place. “Is that so?” 

“Yes.” You hiss the word at him, and try to work up your courage to follow through. You’d never stabbed another person before but in this instance, for him, you were quite certain you could. All you needed to do was goad him into closing the distance and get him near enough for your knife to reach. “You prey on the poor and impoverished like it’s some kind of game, don’t you? Is this what gets you off?” 

“That’s a rather crass thing for a young lady to say, isn’t it?” He simpers at you. Then, much to your heart pounding surprise, he takes a step towards you. And another. “But since you asked I feel it would be remiss of me not to give you an answer. How does a demonstration sound?” 

Your eyes go big, startled heat warming your cheeks quicker than you can even process it. There wasn’t enough time to think about that right now though. He was almost right on top of you, looming over you like some horrible, menacing beast in his fine furs. You seem to have forgotten how to breathe when the only thought flashing through your mind was sinking the blade in your hand through his chest. His neck. Whatever you could reach in the split second chance you were going to get to deliver the blow. Jaw clenched painfully tight, you squeeze your fingers around the knife so hard it hurts. 

And you lunge. 

An unseen hand materializes out of the darkness behind you and snatches your upraised wrist before you can bring it down. You’re so caught off guard that you don’t even have the wherewithal to gasp. A rough jerk on your arm yanks you off balance and right back against a solid wall of muscle that doesn’t even shift at the impact. Your animal instincts seem to take over and you wildly jerk your head up, just catching a glimpse of a red mask, a black hood, and then sharp, tearing pain is shooting up your captured limb. The masked fiend — a man, judging by his frame — twists and mercilessly bends your wrist until you drop the knife with an earth shattering clatter on the floor. Dully realizing you were caught and unarmed now, you violently wrench against his hold in an attempt to free yourself but he just drags you against him again. 

Screaming and kicking, he heedlessly maneuvers you further into the kitchen but even trying to turn into dead weight in his arms doesn’t dissuade him in the slightest. All he does is haul you close, lift you up in the air and then slam you down on top of the table with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’re distantly aware of him shuffling back a step as you lie there, gasping and wheezing while you weakly try to pull your body upright again but it’s useless. The teeth rattling impact against the sturdy wood had effectively stunned you. Your limbs didn’t want to cooperate and it was hard just to breathe, let alone try to run or fight back. 

And somehow through all the agony you’re vaguely aware of Pantalone’s approaching boot steps on the floor. 

“Goodness, was that really necessary? You could have set the whole place on fire.” He tut tuts at his underling and you slowly turn your head to watch him pick up the lantern where it was tipped over. The only thing that had stopped it from shattering or rolling off onto the floor was the protective cage around the glass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to thank whoever had designed it or curse them for it. There was no telling what they were going to do to you, and you may have preferred going up in a puff of smoke when all was said and done … 

Archons above, how were you supposed to get out of this? 

“Now,” Intoning, Pantalone gracefully moves to set the lantern on the adjacent countertop where it wouldn’t get knocked over again. The glow from the flame dances and moves with him, and you groan when it seems to make your nausea double down. You’d never felt quite so sick in all your life. “As I was saying, I think a hands-on demonstration should satisfy your curiosity well enough. As an aside, though, I would suggest not asking men about their sexual proclivities in the future. It just might keep you out of trouble.” 

“Bastard …” 

He comes close again, reaching out to close his fingers around the roots of your hair so he can yank your head back against the table. Seething, you glare up at him but he just keeps smiling that same polite smile. It was hideous. 

“My, my, that really is a filthy mouth you’ve got. Did you learn that from your father? Perhaps we should wash it out with soap while we’re at it.” 

“Stop it! Do not speak of him!” 

Chuckling faintly, Pantalone slowly lets up on your hair before moving to step around the table. Wheezing, you hastily try to roll over so you can slip down to the floor but the masked man stops you dead in your tracks. He was just standing there. Watching. Still and silent as a statue but you didn’t have to see his eyes to know how attentive his focus was. Like he was just waiting for the slightest hint of real resistance so he could use it as an excuse to rough you up again. Evil and loyal to a fault. 

From out of the void, Pantalone’s gloved fingers abruptly brush over your pants leg to make you jolt and whip your attention around so fast the room starts to spin. But once your vision clears enough to see, you just find him standing over you and as at ease as ever. He would have looked completely unassuming if you didn’t know any better.  

“Do try to keep your eyes on me, darling. After all, I’m going out of my way to give you a thorough and worthwhile answer, so the least you can do is pay attention.” 

“Please don’t …” 

Drawing a stilted breath that seems to shudder at the tail end, he slowly drags his palm up to your knee and then back down until it hits the top of your boot. Casually, much too casually for your liking, he disinterestedly nudges it off your foot to hit the floor before repeating the process on the other side. You cower on top of the table, biting back a sob when he reaches up to unbutton your jacket next, but you understood too well just how trapped you really were. The masked man was standing between you and the entryway, much bigger and much stronger than you were. You’d never be able to fight your way past him. In front of you was Pantalone and to the other side … the small kitchen door that led out into the yard was a non option because you hadn’t shoveled away the snow in months. You’d thought it was a good idea to leave as few points of entry into the house as possible now that you were alone, but you realized just how foolish that really was. You had no way out, no viable exits. 

“Are you really going to do this?” You fearfully whisper into the still air. 

With a soft click of his tongue, Pantalone gets the last button undone and brings his hands up again to push the jacket over your shoulders. “Only because you asked.” 

A full bodied tremor tears through you at the pur in his silky voice. Sucking in a ragged, gasping breath, you turn your head against the table to fix your attention on the beckoning door while he works on the next layer, and the next, leaving everything bunched around the bends of your arms, until he at last gets down to the bottommost chemise. You shiver at the loss of heat and the chill that rushes in to replace it, your nipples already cutting up into the thin material, but your reaction doesn’t so much as give him pause. 

Gloved hands drag up your front to cup around the swell of your breasts and squeeze, making you whimper in the back of your throat. “Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were hiding such a voluptuous body underneath all those clothes.” Humming softly, as if in consideration, Pantalone readjusts his hold and shoves your tits together to make them squish under the final layer. “These are nice, aren’t they … have you ever considered going into prostitution? I’m sure you could make a pretty mora for yourself.” 

You screw your eyes shut but it doesn’t do much to block out the sound of his voice. “I would never …” 

“Oh? What a shame.” Pausing, he releases your chest in favor of neatly folding the material up to bunch under your chin and you outright writhe when the chilly air hits your stiff nipples full blast. “Though, if I’m being honest, I am quite tempted to take you with me back to the palace and start selling you myself. You’d be quite popular, you know. One look at this body and every man in the room would be tripping over themselves just to give me their entire savings for a mere hour with you. Perhaps you could pay me back that way, hm?” 

Whimpering when Pantalone lightly brushes his fingers over the pebbled peaks of your breasts, the leather stiff and cool to the touch, you twist your neck back in a blithe attempt to escape that velvety croon. It was no use though. Like you were smothered under his presence you could feel him, hear him all around you. You could even taste him on the back of your tongue where the cloying scent of expensive cologne swarmed your senses. It was too much. You didn’t want this. 

“Please … I’ll do anything, just — please don’t do this to me.” 

He gently shushes you even as he takes a moment to tweak your nipples, almost idly plucking at them until you hiss and choke on a broken little sob. Leaning over you then, hunching close, Pantalone puts his face near enough to yours that his exquisite eyeglass chain slides forward to brush against your cheek. He just looks at you like that for a long moment, still pinching your teats like an afterthought. 

Then, “You’ll do anything except the one thing that might actually get you out of this mess? My dear, I think you’re even more confused than I first thought. You do not have the luxury of choice here.”

Your stomach clenches. Roils and heaves. The dread that settles over you is debilitatingly crushing but you can’t quite stop yourself from looking up at him now, brows drawn in confusion and agony alike. “What do you mean?” It’s barely more than a whisper. 

“What I mean is simple. I own you.” He hisses it, punctuating that statement with an aggressive twist of your nipples to make you shriek. “Until that loan is paid off in full, you belong to me. Your life is in my hands, pet. If I decide you’re going to go stand naked in the town square and present yourself to every man walking by until you find a taker then that is precisely what you are going to do. Is that clear enough for you?” 

You squawk out a frantic, wild sound that might be a ‘yes’ and, to your reeling surprise, he immediately lets up on your poor breasts entirely. Just like that his mood seems to shift back to the usual placid tone and soft smiles, and you violently shudder as he soothes his palms over your aching teats as if to lessen the hurt. You can’t even begin to make sense of it but the relief you feel is staggering, and you force your quaking body to relax into it as much as you can manage. Of course you’d known what he was hiding under that pleasant facade, had seen it peek out on more than one occasion, but this was far beyond what even you had thought him capable. 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised though. Maybe you should have expected it on some level, but you now knew how very fine the line you were walking really was. He could do anything at all to you if the notion struck his fancy and something told you making you sell your body on the streets was only a small drop in the bucket. He was evil and deranged. Cutthroat. You had to play your cards very carefully if you wanted to avoid the worst of it. 

You repeat that to yourself, over and over again in your mind like a mantra when he finally reaches for your pants. It takes everything you have not to scream and kick, spit at him like a wild animal, but you manage, somehow, to just lay there, allowing him to get them pulled down your legs right along with your soft drawers. Left in nothing but your socks and the rumpled up heap of jackets and shirts bunched around your arms, you shyly squeeze your legs together to hide from him. You didn’t want him to see your most intimate spot. To look upon you like a lover would, but you don’t fight it when he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the table. 

You had to play nice. Had to be good for him so he wouldn’t sell you to anyone that could afford to pay the hefty price tag he would no doubt ask for. Just the thought of him taking you makes bile rise in the back of your throat but even in the jittery panic coursing through your system you still recognized exactly how limited your options were. This was the lesser of two evils. You hated it beyond measure, but it was the far more bearable alternative. 

So you hold your breath, head spinning at an alarming rate, when he nudges your knees apart. Let them fall open in a shameless spread that leaves you bared to him and vulnerable. Your face feels like it’s on fire and furious tears sting your eyes, but you just clench your hands into tight, shaking fists. The nails dig in to lance pain through your palms and it helps ground you. Steadies your nerves even when he coos down at you with a saccharine sweetness. 

“And such a pretty pussy too … I admit, I’m rather impressed. I didn’t take you for the sort.”

You adamantly refused to respond to him now, leaving your mouth pursed in a thin line and your head turned away so you could keep your attention locked on the door. You should have shoveled the snow. Should have considered your situation a little more carefully. 

The featherlight brush of Pantalone’s fingertips on your cunt makes you jolt, almost pulls your head back around, but you stay firm on this. Prone and pliant for him as he traces a brief path down your slit before nudging into the lips to feel for your entrance. You wince at the contact, grimacing when he worms one long digit into your body even when he meets resistance, even though your shuddering muscles try to keep him out. The drag of his glove along your inner sleeve pulls a muffled hiss from you but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Tight too. That will help your value price a great deal. Tell me, poppet. You wouldn’t happen to be a virgin, would you?” 

You don’t much appreciate the note of humor in his voice, the sly inflection that would seem to suggest he found the prospect amusing. Delightful, even. Seething through your teeth at the uncomfortable penetration, you can’t help but squirm with the overwhelming urge to run away. “No.” You practically growl the word. “I’m not, you sick bastard.” 

Chuckling softly, he takes a moment to fuck into you with his finger, soon adding a second to stretch you out, but it does little in the way of good. There was too much tension thrumming through your body; too many aches and pains, and fast pumping adrenaline, and not nearly enough pleasure to be found on his cool digits to draw any amount of wetness out of you. But you keep your legs spread because you know that’s what is expected of you. You don’t protest when he eventually withdraws his fingers and reaches up to flick your shirt back open where you’d tried to pull it closed over your chest to stave off some of the cold. And you just lay there, unmoving save the harsh rise and fall of your labored breaths, when he reaches down to spread open his cloak before working to free himself from his pants. 

You don’t look. You can’t look, your heart painfully wrenching as he shuffles close to line his cock up. The blunt pressure of the head sinking into your slit steals the air from your lungs and you freeze, holding yourself so still it makes the joints scream in protest when he slowly starts to sink into you. Inch by excruciating inch, he bullies his way into your cunt and you choke on a pitiful little sound when your body is forced to grant him entry. It hurts. The smooth, silky texture of his length does nothing at all to ease the discomfort when you were trembling so stiffly and your guts were tight with fear. Pantalone just grunts over top of you though, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips tight enough to make bruises bloom under the pressure. 

And finally, an eternity later, he settles against you at long last. 

A wounded groan spills from your mouth as you sensitively twitch on his cock. He was so hot, so blindingly warm inside you, it felt like he was branding you from the inside out. Leaving his mark where no one else would ever be able to see it. You’d never be able to forget the claim he’d made on your body though, with or without his stamp seared into your flesh, and you wheeze, trying very hard not to hyperventilate. Somehow spewing your guts up all over him didn’t seem like it would do you any favors. 

“Oh, that is a tight fit, isn’t it?” He murmurs, allowing himself a moment to just bask in the squeeze of your body. The weak palpitations trying to push him out which only succeed in milking at him. A pleasurable tremor works through his frame, and he reaches up to adjust the position of the glasses on his nose where they’d started to slide forward. “You certainly know how to make a good case for yourself, pet. I admit, I’m suddenly feeling less inclined to sell you for a profit and more partial towards keeping you for my own personal use.” 

Stiffening on the table, you shoot him a quick, wild look before you can stop it, but he just laughs, very softly. 

“Don’t look so surprised. You aren’t nearly as clever as you think.” Loosing a breathy, almost dreamy sigh, Pantalone starts to slowly pull out and you jolt so hard at the gripping drag against your innards that you slam your head back into the wood with a resounding thud. “I had my suspicions when you stopped struggling but you didn’t even have the decency to beg me to stop. Although I do appreciate the cooperation on your part, I still wasn’t entirely convinced you would be worth the trouble. Housing, feeding, upkeep … there are so many different things to consider when one is thinking of taking on the responsibility of a new pet.” 

He pauses, the head of his cock just wedged inside your cunt now. Tipping his face down, he regards the sight of you spread out for him, on your back with your legs curled open around his waist and his rigid length poised to spear back into you. It makes him hum a quiet groan, his usually placid smile growing a little sharper. Hungrier. He looks at you like a finely dressed conqueror about to lay ruin to a yet untouched and fertile land. His for the taking. 

Slowly, he starts to sink in again. “But this sweet little cunt of yours is taking me so well. Even without the proper preparations you still fit me like a glove. Like you were made just for my cock … tell me, darling, will you be a good pet for me?” 

“Y - yes …” You seethe, once more screwing your eyes shut so you won’t have to look at him. Flawless and beautiful, and horrible hunching over you. 

There was an end in sight though, if you could just reach out and grasp it. Clutch it to your chest with fervent hysteria and never let it go. He’d already damned you but you were willing to take your salvation wherever you could get it. The mere thought of other men having you like this, all strangers, faces you’ve never seen before; the old and the young, the sick and the drunk, is enough to steel your resolve. If this was to be your fate you would much rather suffer solely at Pantalone’s hands than anyone else’s. 

And he moans, ever so faintly, at your acquiescence. Starts to pump into you a bit quicker, ignoring the way your face pinches in pain and discomfort. “Will you do everything I say, poppet? Will you be a nice and obedient dog for me? Will you call me master?” 

The breathy quality of his voice makes your stomach wrench and threaten to regurgitate all of its contents, but you force yourself to stiltedly nod. “Yes, I will. Anything … m - master.” 

“Such a good, smart girl you are.” He laughs. “Then will you suck his cock for me?” 

You go ramrod stiff, a fresh surge of horror washing over you. It crashes against you like turbulent ocean waves hitting the rocks on a beach, slamming with enough force to slowly chip away at their density over time. You’d forgotten about the masked man. So caught up in your own misery his presence had completely slipped your mind for the last however many minutes, but when you stiffly turn your head, you find him already working to undo the front of his pants. Evidently he did not need to be told twice. 

And, to your lurching horror, you clearly had very little choice in the matter. 

“Wait — that’s not what you said!” You squeak, shooting Pantalone a wide eyed, wild look, but he just purses his lips at you. Coos like he would at a baby. 

“Although I might be willing to keep you for myself that doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t deign to share you from time to time, for my own amusement. Besides, it’s just your mouth. I’m much more concerned with this tight cunt of yours.” 

He groans, low and faltering as his pace starts to pick up more. The dull whap of his clothed hips meeting the fleshy give of your thighs grows louder, more insistent, his cock relentlessly carving out a space within you now. It seems to punch the air out of your lungs and you gasp, bleating helplessly there on the table.

A hand suddenly materializes under your chin and locks around your jaw to yank your head back at an awkward angle. You catch a split second glimpse of the cock bobbing in your face, chest hitching in surprise and distress, and horror at what was happening to you, but it was too late. The masked man angles his pelvis forward and roughly shoves himself into your mouth. You shriek around the intrusion, tears stinging your eyes at the cloying taste of him. Salty and musky, bitter enough to make your skin crawl, but there’s nothing you can do about it. He just keeps your neck pinned down while Pantalone fucks into you even harder, his moans becoming louder when your body subconsciously squeezes him every time you writhe.

It was like you were being stretched between two equally unrelenting forces and even trying to twist away does nothing to make it better. Your breasts just jostle violently with each thrust from the man positioned between your legs and your throat constricts painfully when the masked stranger tries to shove his length straight down your gullet. Coughing and sputtering, struggling just to breathe, you force yourself to go still again and just accept what was happening on the slim chance that would make it somehow more tolerable. 

But of course it doesn’t. The unknown Fatuus doesn’t stop trying until your face is covered in a slimy, bubbling sheen of spittle and saliva that slowly runs back into your hair. Finally, after many attempts that have left your throat bruised and raw, he at last manages to sink himself halfway into the squeezing passage and you violently jerk when you realize you can’t breathe. A tiny, muffled noise manages to escape your constricting airway, but he just groans in response and shudders as if it felt good. You quickly become lightheaded, stomach heaving as if to finally throw up but — he suddenly pulls out to leave you desperately gasping and choking in the aftermath. 

Weakly, you try to lift your head with the intention of sending Pantalone an imploring look but the other man just palms the top of your skull and manually turns you back towards his cock again. Not having a choice, you pitifully roll your eyes up to look at him instead even as you take his length back into your mouth. You can see him snarling under his mask from this angle, his lips pulled back in a sneer of concentration while he thrusts towards the back of your aching throat to drag out more sticky sheets of drool that run down your chin in messy clumps. 

It is not this degradation that finally breaks you, nor is it the fact Pantalone is using you like a mere toy for him to get off on. What eventually does it is the sticky wet click you just manage to make out over all the other lurid sounds buzzing around you, and you dully realize it’s coming from between your legs. Your cunt was slicking for him. Against your will, defying all logic and reason, your body was responding to this cruel treatment. That horrifies you perhaps more than anything else and, letting out a wailing sob, you let the tears spill out to track hot, stinging paths down your burning face. 

The masked man clicks his tongue as if disgusted to see you crying like this, and he finally lets up his hold on your jaw. Allowing your head to loll bonelessly on the table, you just lay there while he reaches down to grab a pinching handful of your swaying breast, squeezing it so hard you groan in response. 

Between your spread legs, Pantalone issues a quiet, insidious chuckle. “Poor thing. You already look so tired … not to worry though. I’m sure a nice warm bath back at the palace will have you back to sorts quickly enough.” 

You hiccup at the thought, distantly realizing how cold you were. Yes, this was certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for. Pantalone would take care of you. Feed you. Keep you warm and clean, and comfortable so long as you were obedient. A nice pet for him to play with whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t exactly the life you’d dreamed of, but at least it was something. 

It wasn’t the prosperous lands of opportunity in Liyue you’d longed for as a child when your father was still alive, but at least it was a marginally better life than the one you currently had. 

The toll it would have on your body and mind alike seemed a reasonable price to pay for your freedom from debt. After all, what other choice did you even have?

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #pantalone #pantalone x reader #self insert bullshit

[txttletale]

wanted 2 ask u cuz i think u know more than me:

most of the acab / police aboltion stuff i see is based on the US system, backed up with US stats and events, and suggesting changes to the US policing system.

but a lot of the proposed changes i see are similar (i think?) to what we currently have in the UK, and the power imbalance and training issues and violence are much worse in the US (but not absent here obvs). while the institution is still racist. but I'm wary of the usual 'it doesn't happen here' response that ppl usually employ to dismiss movements like BLM in the UK.

how much of acab rhetoric applies here, and how should we adapt the plans for reform for the UK policing system?

i mean the USA is definitely an outlier in terms of police and prison violence but this is broadly a quantitative rather than qualitative difference. i assure you that the police in the UK are just as horrifically racist and violent--they're just not as armed and don't have the same amount of political capital as the far more militarized USAmerican police.

the Metropolitan Police's own report (lol) found them to be 'institutionally racist'. police in the UK have fucking absurd powers, such as being permitted to commit any crime while undercover without judicial review, as long as it's in the interests of 'national security' or 'preventing disorder' or 'protecting the economic well-being of the United Kingdom' (!). they are relentlessly and disproportionately violent towards BAME people. they have a systemic culture of violence and brutality. Bristol police tased their own race relations advisor, twice. when a woman, sarah everard, was raped and murdered by a police officer, police suppressed and brutalized protesters at her vigil.

here are stop and search statistics for the UK police in 2021:

the UK policing system is just as racist and just as much of an oppressive apparatus as the USAmerican one. don't trust anyone from the UK who tries to tell you otherwise. all cops are bastards because the institution of policing under capitalism exists first and foremost to protect capitalist property relations.

obviously the demands of BLM protesters in the USA cannot be adapted 1-for-1 to the UK, and as a revolutionary communist i think there are very hard limits to what can be meaningfully accomplished under liberal democracy. but i think a good place to start if you want achievable short-term reform to happen is relentless protest and action against the recent bills that have expanded police powers more than ever, against the Blair-era counterterrorism legislation, for the abolition of the Met Police, and for justice for victims of police brutality.

Because the state arose from the need to hold class antagonisms in check, but because it arose, at the same time, in the midst of the conflict of these classes, it is, as a rule, the state of the most powerful, economically dominant class, which, through the medium of the state, becomes also the politically dominant class, and thus acquires new means of holding down and exploiting the oppressed class […] This public power exists in every state; it consists not merely of armed men but also of material adjuncts, prisons, and institutions of coercion of all kinds

— Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State

#ask #police brutality cw #this is not an area of expertise for me but i wanted to try and at least put rest to some of the #misconceptions that people hacve about the UK police

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance -

/Masterpost/

Status - ONGOING (last updated 20.01.2024)

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, vaginal sex, oral (f and m recieving), anal fingering, praise kink, coercion, manipulation, explicit desciptions of violence, choking, graphic descriptions of blood, breeding kink, come kink, come play, forced pregnancy, depression, captivity, kidnapping (tags will be added along the way, but look at each chapter for spesific warnings), some very deppressive themes of psychological horror and manipulation. 

Summary: One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Note: This started with a drabble (what is now Chapter 2 - To give you what you need) and continued after the amazing and exciting feedback I got. Now it has grown to a BEAST, and I’m really fascinated with the way things are developing. Thank you thank you thank you to all the amazing replies and comments and reblogs so far, it has truly inspired me!!! It’s so exciting reading your responses, so if you’d be so inclined, I’d loooove to hear your thoughts on the tale😍

This is the first series I write and post simultaniously, so I really don’t know how often I will update!! Hopefully often! Also, my photo editing skills have improved considerably since my last series That which lingered on his mind - check it out!

This is DARK! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if the content in the warnings triggers you. Minors DNI!

Chapter 1 - Taking what he wants

Chapter 2 - To give you what you need

Chapter 3 - Keeping you

Chapter 4 - Put

Chapter 5 - Off the deep end

Chapter 6 - Losing breath

Chapter 7 - Sinking

Chapter 8 - Ragged depths

Chapter 9 - The world in the balance

Chapter 10 -

My work is not to be distributed outside this blog!

My inbox is open for any of your thoughts or prompts or asks🦋

Luv you, all you sweet and twisted darlings! Enjoy!😏💞

#in the balance #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve smut #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers fanfiction

[genderoutlaws]

“Anti-transmasculinity was coined as an alternative to the dogwhistle that "transmisandry" usually implies, and to avoid confusion from terms like "transandrophobia" which may draw false equivalence to Transmisogynoir. Anti-transmasculinity is its own phenomenon for real.

A theory of Anti-transmasculinity assumes that Patriarchy must regulate *kinds* of manhood and masculinity. It doesn't assume manhood and masculinity are synonyms. It understands that hegemonic manhoods and masculinities are Western, bourgeois, and naturalized by cissexism.

A theory of Anti-transmasculinity understands that ethnocentrism, class domination, and political authority are the historical material origins & basis for the regulation of manhood and masculinity. Such a theory also agrees with the transmisogyny-as-fulcrum thesis in TMA thought.

A theory of Anti-transmasculinity understands that the regulation of manhoods and masculinities weilds cisheterosexist coercion and interpretation of bodies/anatomy in the context of political, economic, and cultural domination, [especially] under modern racial capitalism/colonialism.

A theory of Anti-transmasculinity does not frame the gender marginalization of trans men and trans masculine people as *epiphenomenal* to that of cis women; does not frame it as *secondary* to or "based on" coercive sex assignation; and does not equalize it with transmisogyny/transmisogynoir.

A theory of Anti-transmasculinity does not validate the idea of misandry. Cis men aren't oppressed for their manhood or masculinity, even when colonized or poor. A theory of Anti-transmasculinity draws from frameworks like Triple Jeopardy or Minor Patriarchy to understand marginalized gender oppression, of which Anti-transmasculinity is one form. This means paying attention to how regulation of manhood and masculinity occurs both internal to and external to the colonized. Theories of Anti-transmasculinity are not to be liberal/immaterial.”

— Thread by Afrofuturist Abolitionists of the Americas on theories of Anti-transmasculinity

#transphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmisogyny #transmisogynoir

[transmutationisms]

tbc when i talk about patient autonomy incl in regards to psychiatric interventions, i'm talking about the sort of massive social, economic, and cultural overhaul required to allow such medical decisions to actually be made independently of pressure and coercion ,even of the presented-as-benign variety. i do not think this is possible under capitalism w/ its attendant politics of health. i also mean that this would require full, open knowledge of all potential harmful outcomes of any given intervention. frankly in a situation where there is not social or economic pressure to engage in psychiatric treatment, where the choice to do so or not is genuinely morally value-neutral, & where the harms of doing so are not hidden or minimised, i think many/most current interventions would become basically obsolete simply because nobody would fucking want them lol

#psychiatry

[clamsjams]

list of empires smp empires based on whether i think they existed in lore before the players started ruling over them and also how the players got to rule over them:

putting it under the read more bc it got long

Ancient Capital: yeah obviously that’s pixs whole thing. pix is in charge bc he’s the only one there

Gobland: yes, fwhip took over from the former leader by digging up a magical king choosing rock or something idk

Glimmer Grove: yes, confirmed by katherine in her first episode, she inherits her rule and title from her family and bloodline

the Olipelago: nope, it’s literally a beach where oli set up his tent, it’s a place for wandering travelers and musicians (it’s basically an artsy homeless encampment). olis in charge cause he was the first one to set up there, but there aren’t really strict rules or any proper government (i’m not caught up on olis streams pls don’t come at me if the vibe has changed since i saw it last this is just my interpretation based on what i saw)

Dawn: yes, gem inherits her rule and title from her family and bloodline like katherine , but unlike katherine her family’s rule is chosen by the butterflies and bees through some kind of magical process and if they find the family unfit to rule they can choose another family/heir. if gem has siblings, then the heir isn’t necessarily the oldest, it’s whoever gets chosen by the bees

Stratos: yes and no kind of? lower stratos existed before, but it was a pretty small village, joel is their patron god and he moved in and started improving the village and building upper stratos bc he heard their prayers to him. he’s in charge bc he’s literally their god obviously. he’s actually a pretty minor god, which is why he gives so much help and attention to what was at first, a very tiny and insignificant village, bc they’re the only ones who regularly prayed to him

Tumble Town: yes, confirmed by the old sheriff. jimmy is the new sheriff cause he found the badge in a random mineshaft chest in his first episode. tumble town was a ghost town before jimmy came along so there was no one to contest his claim. they all moved on once they thought the mines were drying up and only moved back once jimmy revitalized the industry (that was very common on the real western frontier, except they just ended up abandoned forever unlike tumble town)

The Evermoore: nope, just a swamp. shelby gets to be in charge cause she’s the only one there and the spirits she helps are still spirits and don’t rlly want to be in charge

Sanctuary: no, sausage founded the settlement and was completely willing to step down once it started to grow into a real empire but he’s very well respected and everyone wanted to him to stay the ruler, esp cause they trusted he wouldn’t be like the king from their old kingdom. the people who work at town hall do all the official paperwork and stuff but sausages still the unofficial ruler

Animalia: no, there were hidden underground societies of animal citizens before but they were all separate by type, like one place for the frogs, one for foxes, etc, and then one day lizzie recruited animals for the critter council and started building a place where they wouldn’t have to hide. at first lizzie’s villagers were mostly living there under coercion, but as word spread throughout the hidden animal communities the animal citizens started immigrating willingly

Chromia: honestly not sure, this and gobland are the empires i have the least ideas for, i feel like it could go either way. chromia scott just doesn’t feel like the kind of guy who would build a whole new settlement from scratch, so maybe he hid out in a village while on the run from authorities or whatever kind of trouble he got himself into, and then he decided to liven up the place with some colors and ended up being in charge somehow. or maybe he was on the run and decided to build a house and a new identity and start selling dyes and ppl just started coming and building there too idk.

Cogsmeade: no, but i think there was a village or 2 nearby, and the people there are super wary of strangers and pretty isolationist, similar to false herself. when she first moved in nearby, the villagers weren’t sure what to make of her, she seemed strange but she kept to herself and didn’t bother them so they let it be. after a while they saw the stuff she was building and were begrudgingly impressed and a few of them decided to try and trade with her for iron and stuff. it takes ages but she builds some buildings and and some people move closer to her and some stay in the inn. it’s a small, close knit community, and the citizens and false trust each other as much as people like them can. false never actually tells any of them about her past and her trauma, but there’s an unspoken understanding that they all have. they’ve all gone through stuff and are running from something, they know what it feels like. there’s lots of solidarity, and they’re not nice but they’re kind.

Forgotten Cove, Eversea: yes, eversea isn’t actually a land it’s just the pirate term for certain parts of the ocean, the strategically important parts, where the merchant ships have to pass through, and the pirates who control those waters are super powerful. if a pirate crew is powerful enough to enforce it, they can basically claim parts of eversea as their territory and it’s off limits to other pirates. sometimes different crews make alliances and trades for use of the territory and sometimes they’ll just challenge the other crew for the territory and if the challenging crew defeats the crew that holds the territory then they can claim it.

when a crew that holds multiple territories is defeated their other claims are essentially considered to be very shaky and other crews will start swarming them to try and claim them for themselves. there’s a lot of politics involved and reputation is an important part of all of it. if a crew wins a challenge and gains more territory, some might leave the other territories alone bc they think that the crew will most likely be coming to cement their claim on those next, and it’s not worth it to try and fight for them. while some would view the defeated crew as weak and run to try and rip off a piece while they’re down. it all depends on politics, reputations, risks vs rewards, how valuable the territory is, and a ton of other stuff.

some parts of the eversea waters change hands constantly, while others are held more consistently by 1 or 2 crews. skeletron has held the vast majority of territory for the past years, which is basically unheard of. usually there’s a few big players and a bunch of smaller groups who have ties or alliances with one of the big powers. skeletron came out of nowhere and started taking out the big powers, and the the smaller groups either flocked to him out of fear or got taken out.

if the major powers had teamed up to fight him they may have been able to take him out, but it would take something huge to make them set aside their feuds, and they didn’t take skeletron seriously at first. by the time they realized what a huge threat he was, it was too late. joey was actually the last holdout, which is why skeletron was so hellbent on getting him. joey wasn’t a major power yet, but before skeletron sunk his ship and kidnapped his crew mates joey was considered a very promising up-and-comer, well on his way to becoming a major power. although most people gave up on him once skeletron sunk him, because at that point skeletron was considered an almost mythical legendary figure, like blackbeard, and no one thought joey could’ve survived his attack.

but he did! and he washed up in the forgotten cove! a bustling shantytown that every pirate knows is the closest thing you can get to being at sea while still being on land. the floating docks and the ships moored there considered just as much a part of the town as the many many pubs and bars. just like the sea, the town has its own politics, depending on the delicate balanced ecosystem of the town to keep it thriving. if you need something illegal, the first place to look is always the forgotten cove, which was named that way because the more honest and more wealthy parts of society didn’t like to remember it existed, and they got so good at forgetting that eventually everyone forgot what empire it belonged to originally.

nowadays it’s considered its own independent territory. it’s one of those places where everybody knows it exists and that people are committing crimes there, but the people in charge turn a blind eye to it bc of, again, politics. the town is considered more stable than the sea. in addition to the pirates, there’s also a bunch of gangs, smugglers, and a shit ton of poor street kids. it’s a great place to disappear, which is why it was the best place for joey to lay low and gather more power to try and defeat skeletron.

he also manages to unite the town and improve the conditions a ton while he does it. which is why he ends up in charge. he does have to fight a bit for the position but most of the town likes having him in charge and it’s hard to get them to agree on anything. the other rulers are shocked when joey shows up for one of the empires rulers meetings, because despite sending the invitation out of courtesy every time, no one ever shows up. they’re way too busy worrying about internal politics to care about the external politics with other empires.

after joey defeats skeletron with katherine and shelby he gains legendary status and is considered the greatest pirate of all time. he spends a year sailing around with katherine and shelby (i know shelby’s finale had kind of a vague timeline but i decided i want them to sail off into the distance happily ever after and it’s my post) and they also get added to the legends. the pirate king, the monster-slaying princess, and the great witch. friends forever.

#geez that got long #can u tell who my favorites are? #(it’s false and joey) #i just like worldbuilding a lot too #empires smp #empires s2 #empires season two #empires joel #empires joey #empires jimmy #empires fwhip #empires false #empires lizzie #empires pixl #empires katherine #empires shelby #empires scott #empires oli #empires sausage #empires gem #fairytale trio #posts from the ocean

[dipperdesperado]

Notes Towards Anti-Authoritarian Victories: Distributed Resistance

TLDR: Distributed communities are a way to create a more equitable and sustainable society. We should decentralize and distribute power, resources, and decision-making. This comes from an emphasis on cooperation, restorative justice, and dismantling oppressive structures. Part of this process is honestly and earnestly exploring the role (and necessity) of the dialectic between violence and nonviolence in social change. There has to be a genuine embodiment of solidarity and diverse tactics. Two strategic frameworks for organizing resistance to explore and expand upon are encircling campaigns and the Fabian strategy. The overall goal is to build autonomous, resilient, and ethical movements. We have to challenge the status quo to create a more just world.

Distributed Communities

One of my main goals for how I interact with the world is to be a source of joy and hope for myself and others. Part of that is creating spaces for joy and hope. To create those spaces, we have to eradicate institutionalized spaces of despair and sadness. I’m not looking for a world without challenges…I’m just interested in finding realistic utopias, as opposed to the dystopic conditions we currently reside in. So, how do we get there, to a solarpunk world of dreams? First, let’s talk about where we are.

Centralization: The Anti-Life Equation

I’m not sure if you all are into comic books or anything like that, but I’ve always loved animated superhero shows and movies. Back when I was young, there was a DC show with a character called Darksied. His whole villainly motivation is to find the Anti-Life Equation. This is a math proof that essentially is meant to take away free will from living beings. Something about it is to prove the futility of living, therefore saying that people should just be controlled. Sound familiar?

Most people, especially from a Marxian tradition/understanding (so most sociologists and leftists), would say that this describes capitalism. Capitalism, as a reminder, is a system that functions most commonly off of two maxims: Private property rights (most notably towards the means of production, and as opposed to personal property) and wage labor. Many folks have argued, and I’d agree, that this system of withholding access to resources and goods across enforced property lines is bad, and stifles self-actualization. I want to go a bit further, though. I think that the underlying tendency that motivates capitalism, the imaginal cell spurring all of the negative emergent behaviors we see now is centralization.

Centralization is, as it sounds, about bringing “something” towards the center. In our case, that is power and access to resources and decisions. Centralization runs counter to nature. Though we apply our ideas of centralization onto nature, there is no true king of the jungle. Lions don’t “command” gazelle. And even if they did, us, as more conscious beings, can do better. Centralization is deterministic and linear instead of pluralistic and dynamic; it assumes that since people have differences that there have to be power distributions based on those differences. It’s Social Darwinism at its finest. Command-and-control social organization is pyramidal, and, no matter how “representative” the structure is, it inherently reinforces power distribution along lines of difference, creating and reifying social hierarchy.

Decentralization: A Light at the end of the Tunnel

Something that I and other folks struggle with is the pervasive nature of centralization. If it sucks for most people, as we know, then why is the entire world’s levers of power and influence pointed towards that? It seems like it has to be this way, otherwise we would be doing something else, right? Sadly, no. We, as people, are very susceptible to the systems that we interact with. We all live under centralizing systems of domination, coercion, and oppression, so our version of reality is warped by those experiences. But, just because we’re in a bad situation, doesn’t mean things have to stay that way. We’ve grown around these systems, and while they shape our thinking, they also create the fertile ground for their undoing. Subjects tend to not enjoy subjugation.

Decentralization is the antithesis of centralization. Decentralizing radically reorients power and access from a competitive, zero sum game, to a cooperative game. Even if you like competition, and you think it’s a necessary part of human nature (which it isn’t), we’re way past the point where stuff like that is useful. That’s assuming that it ever was, which I am skeptical about. The dog eat dog mentality, if nothing else, is destroying the Earth for profit. That alone, since we all need a functioning biosphere to…function, should be a searing indictment of the logics that underscore nation-states and capitalism.

By operating in a decentralized way, where we reorient our organizations to have power flow from the bottom up, we can enable more agile and resilient communities. It’ll not only give people more power to steer their lives (as opposed to hoping their boss or representative government official is a “nice guy”), but will allow society to continue existing, albeit in a new form.

Distribution: A Strong Network Flexes its Muscles

Decentralization is great, but if we’re not careful, it can just become like ancient times, where little city states have conflicts with each other, acting as little centralized pockets of power, even though they don’t have as much power over society as a whole. We want to be able to have connections with other communities and parts of society, without resorting to domination, coercion, and oppression. This can happen through distributing power across the network of communities, focusing on the goal of giving each individual the maximum autonomy in their lives. It looks like this: each person can live their life however they want, as long as it doesn’t impede others from doing the same. The same can be said on every level, from the block, to the neighborhood, to the city, and beyond.

This necessitates cooperation, as no one can provide all of their needs and wants by themselves. It also necessitates being militantly against domination, oppression, and coercion…people who are looking to cause harm do not get to claim that they are practicing autonomy. We have to do the hard work of practicing restorative and transformative justice. When people violate the autonomy of others, there has to be a victim-led response process, with a goal towards healing the victim, and supporting the betterment of the perpetrator if possible.

How we get there

Now, I haven’t gone in a ton of depth, since I don’t want to be super prescriptive as to what this new space could look like. That might leave a lot to be desired, in terms of a framework from how to get from here (a crumbling, decaying society that is looking to centralize more before it implodes) to there (a decentralized-distributed society where everyone’s needs and wants are met in an ecologically and socially harmonious way). My short answer is…power distribution. If we use this idea as an imaginal cell in our process and as the road on which we travel, we have a chance to create a situation where we can get the benefits of the olden days of city states (if you don’t like a place, you could just dip!), and most of the benefits of modern society, but spread out to each person. We probably won’t be able to see the levels of luxury of billionaires, or maybe even the lower end of the capitalist class, but we will all have a much, much better shot of living our lives in an actualizing way. Who knows what we can discover about ourselves in that kind of space?

Distribution as resilience

One of the great things about moving power away from central nodes is that it makes the system more resilient! A great example would be power grids. Imagine if your power grid for your town or city was centralized in one big plant, and everything was powered from there. If someone wanted to destroy your city’s electricity, they would just have to be able to take out the hub. Then, your city is blacked out, and there’s not a lot of ways to get that kind of critical infrastructure back.

Decentralization is a step better, but it can repeat the same things on a smaller scale. The most resilient option is for there to be a distribution of power generation (in the most sustainable way possible). We should always tend towards distribution—as much as reality would allow us.

What should be distributed, what should be decentralized?

Going back to the question of how we get from here to there, we have to face the reality that social change movements face repression from the status quo. Also, given the history of these movements, there are a lot of cases of co-option, and an incomplete version of the goal. In other words, we may not have the chance to prefigure the world we want to build before it is threatened by the old world. So, how do we uphold our values, while being strong enough to survive?

An important thing is to see this for what it is, a conflict. We have to engage as if we are facing an enemy, because we are. We also have to realize that, especially in a centralizing structure, our ire, in general, should not be for the foot soldiers but for structures and ideologies. We have a chance to win people over. It’s a lot harder for folks who are benefiting from the machine. This is not to say that we don’t acknowledge the harm that they cause. I mean to point out that if we get stuck in conflict with oppressive people and we don’t attack oppressive structures, we lose out on the ability to get decisive victories.

Another important piece is to not be dogmatic. We have to figure out our foundational principles and values, be honest about what we’re doing, and work hard to ensure we orient around short term gains that lead to long term successes, rather than quick fixes that endanger our progress in the long run. We want to know what works, but not be married to something. By thinking systemically, we can approach things in a diversity of effective tactics. This may mean that we occupy multiple parts of the centralization-distribution spectrum, depending on the area of focus.

In general, the more clandestine the operation, the more distributed it should be. Clandestine operations tend to be centralizing, so if we approach them from the opposite end of the spectrum we could potentially avoid the pitfalls. We also probably should never tend towards centralization, because that is a surefire way to destroy anything we create. Powermongers should just go work in the mainstream system if that’s their desire. Places where power tends to centralize, we should distribute, while being open to and welcoming of decentralization where it makes sense. An example could be: instead of every household having a personal car and coordinating sharing with each other (distributed), we could have car libraries that people check cars out from (decentralized). The most important thing to remember with any initiative that the goal is to make sure that power is not centralizing, even if there is a central place where resources exist.

Distributed Resistance

Violence

I want to switch gears and lean more into a side of world-change that people either knee jerk towards (”capital R” revolution) or away from (3.5% nonviolent resistance to social change nonsense). Let’s talk about violence.

Violence, as the state defines it, is something like physical force used to damage or destroy someone or something. That seems…reasonable, maybe, but let’s go a little bit deeper. Is it violent to commit non-physical harm, such as repeated verbal accosting? Is it violence to commit physical harm, when it’s on a time delay? It’s easy to point out immediate violence, like punching someone or burning something. It’s a lot harder when it’s a company putting carbon in the air, causing respiratory issues hundreds of miles away, the symptoms of which don’t show until years after the factory shut down. What about self-defense? How do we define that? Can violence be justified? Should justified violence even be labeled as violence?

There are a lot of questions to answer, but one thing is clear—a diversity of tactics is important. There also has to be solidarity. MLK and Malcom X understood how important each other’s tactics were to the success of the movement as a whole. Even if they didn’t reach the heights of their desires, that is an important lesson we can take away. If we act like nonviolence is unimportant, or act like “violence” is too far no matter what (like saying that hitting a nazi makes you no better), it makes our movements weaker. Like any tactic, it should be used tactically, not wantonly. We shouldn’t encourage fighting if its very unlikely to win (unless we have no other choice), and we shouldn’t encourage pacifism because of some short-sighted and self-defeating moral high-grounding.

An Occupying Force

A way that helps me think of our situation as people who want to help bring about new paradigms that directly conflict of the prevailing ones is framing it as if we are under military occupation. I mean, that’s basically the primary function of the state…that monopoly on violence. In my view, framing it like this makes a lot of the tactical orientation that I was discussing before make sense. When you are an occupied community, you very clearly see the subjugation that’s taking place. How “nice” your occupiers are is of little import; the fact that they’re there is transgression enough. Since we don’t have access to the “legitimate” flows of power (and if we did, we couldn’t use them to liberatory ends), we have to think differently. This is where operating as guerrillas comes in.

OODA Loop

Guerrillas are small groups that fight asymmetrically against a more powerful opponent. With us being tiny right now, it’s worthwhile to figure out how to fight in a way that makes our weaknesses into strengths. One method into this is the OODA loop. OODA stands for observe, orient, decide, and act. It’s a method for making strategic decisions in an iterative way. We observe our surrounding, circumstances, and current data. We then orient ourselves to our situation, making judgements based on that information. We decide what to do based on those judgements, and then we act upon those decisions, constantly iterating to make new decisions. The size and structure of decentralized and distributed organizations allows for iteration to happen more quickly, leading to an advantage over slower centralized structures.

Generally, the path I see to success is through operating via a distributed model of autonomous units, coordinating only when necessary, while also keeping the information network alive as is pertinent, and an alignment on vision and values. By any means necessary, but not all means. Especially if the group is operating as a singular organization, a la the ELF or ALF, ideally there would not be people that do tactics that violate that maxim. Means-ends unity is how we create the world we want. We can’t get liberation by exuding oppression.

Formations for Resistance

Before I leave, I want to list a couple strategic frameworks for organizing. The ones I’ll focus on are:

Encircling (i’ve discussed this in another post)

Fabian Strategy and Ethical Guerilla Warfare

Encircling

Encircling is when you surround an enemy in a way that doesn’t allow them to escape. You leave them two options: surrender or defeat. My conception of how this relates to organizing is that you take an issue that you’re trying to respond to (usually a system of oppression), and you encircle it with campaigns running in parallel. A campaign is like a series of actions/tactics, employed over a period of time. Since systems of oppression are…systemic, you would take a systems approach. You would work cross-functionally, looking for leverage points to exploit, and exploit those. My basic outline is that you’d have a campaign that starts off very non-confrontational, making appeals to the system of authority, and as that doesn’t yield “capital S” success (you can’t vote in socialism or decentralization), you ratchet up the confrontation, though only to the level that you can handle. It acts as a radicalization pipeline, strengthened by the results of the other campaigns. There would also be an extreme campaign, where folks are doing as confrontational of actions as they are willing to do. The rest of the campaigns would be in the middle, where they are relatively confrontational, moving towards heightened confrontation. Everything is moving into a more militant direction, where people are learning their power.

Fabian Strategy and Ethical Guerrillas

The Fabian strategy gets its name from Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus, a dictator of Rome. His army was fighting against the much more well-equipped army of Carthage, so he opted for fighting a war of attrition. This sounds a lot like the situation social movements are in. It can be easy to think we have to fight might with might, but it’s a senseless and undesirable approach to try to outgun the state. We can use a guerilla orientation to organize in ways that highlight our strengths while exploiting their weaknesses. Building on this strategy will allow us to grow our movements and continue to fight, while simultaneously making it harder to put the movement down.

I also advocate for an ethical approach to this fight. By any means necessary, but not by all means available. There are certain actions that won’t yield us the results we want, and there are other actions that can only be useful in concert with other actions and campaigns. Broadly speaking, we want to minimize the harm caused to folks while maximizing the disruptions to the status quo. Here are some ways we can do this, some of which intersects and overlaps with the encircling framework:

Focus on grassroots organizing and building community power from the ground up. We have to think like stewards and coordinators rather than leaders; our strength comes not from a being a tiny centralized group, but an autonomous network of agents.

We build up our capacity, by creating multiple levels of engagement into the movement. we can combine non-confrontational tactics where we gradually increase disruption as support grows with giving support to more militant segments. This leads to a continual, dynamic (see nonlinear) process of education, advocacy, construction, and disruption.

Think about how to disrupt the status quo in a way that doesn’t target the oppressed. Instead of prevent public transportation or emergency vehicles from being able to travel, maybe focus on lavish events where some really terrible decisions are being made by oppressors at the expense of the oppressed. Actions can simultaneously be symbolic and direct.

Plan targets systemically. Keep the guillotine away. We don’t get our problems solved just by attacking elements within a system. If a leverage point ends up being a specific person… be very sure about understanding how to interact in a way that gets you the results that you want. Tactically and ethically, it becomes very hard to justify targeted attacks.

Uphold solidarity and mutual support among allies while respecting a diversity of tactics. Our analysis should be expansive enough to allow any tactics that could work within our ethical framework to be permissible, even if we personally don’t feel comfortable doing those tactics. As I said before: it’s not “anything goes”, its “we have to be willing to do anything we can that doesn’t violate our ends to achieve our means”.

If people can’t get behind your ideas, then your ideas need to be reexamined. Everyone has a horse in this race. People have to be able to understand that they have power as individuals and collectives, along with how to use it in non-coercive and non-oppressive ways. Meeting people where there at, showing up in real solidarity, and putting your ideas into practice goes way further than an isolated philosophical conversation.

We also have to keep fighting. This doesn’t mean that we are constantly ourselves fighting—through building distributed movements, we can take breaks and be sure that the network still functions. We won’t be able to create a new world in a single move, but through persistence, critical review, and intelligent strategy, we can grow and tend the seeds of change.

I hope this was interesting to ya. It’s a little different topically and format-wise than what I usually do, so let me know if this was interesting or useful. Solidarity forever 🙂

#economics #economy #econ #anti capitalists be like #neoliberal capitalism #late stage capitalism #anti capitalism #capitalism #activism #activist #direct action #solarpunks #solarpunk #praxis #socialism #sociology #social revolution #social justice #social relations #social ecology #organizing #complexity #resist #fight back

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

Almost every food you can buy has a history of exploitation and abuse behind it.

Any given piece of chocolate is more likely to have been a product of child abuse than not. Produce farms in the US are frequently a site of abuse so severe it may qualify as slavery. Children are being abused to make Ben & Jerry's ice cream and in meat packing plants. Prisoners, not protected by OSHA or minimum wage, are forced to work in slavery conditions and wages to package and prepare your eggs, dairy, and produce.

Indigenous populations are being displaced and starved out while the land they've sustainably tended for centuries or millennia is taken over by corporations to grow monoculture cash crops that damage biodiversity which accelerates the climate crisis.

And none of this is even touching on the coercion inherent even in food production and distribution jobs that DO follow labor laws under capitalism.

Food justice requires ending capitalism.

Effectively addressing widespread child abuse requires ending capitalism.

#food justice #abuse culture #capitalism #thatdiabolicalfeminist #labor rights

[unrestedjade]

I had to get up and walk a few laps around my apartment complex, gnashing my teeth and whooping (quietly) about the Implications and angst and badwrong potential of a theoretical Stepford Starship Perihelion.

Opt into my hooting and hollering about engineered-into-mindbreak AI AU below:

So a human pilot can leave if they decide they don't want to ferry people around on a schedule or haul cargo in utter isolation for months, even controlling for the coercion inherent in capitalism. They aren't one flesh with the ship. And a human who would rather hand the reins over to someone else for a while at work or in life generally (in the case of, like, lifestyle D/s or some such) has legal and moral recourse to change or end that arrangement when they choose (or they should, in a civilized society).

If there is an object built to a purpose that object didn't choose, with capabilities it didn't choose, who is nonetheless fully sapient and this is its lot in life forever...that's different. It didn't spring from the ether like that. Someone made it like that. Someone imposed their will on it like that, crafted it in a pleasing and convenient image. And made it alive.

If it can't leave that arrangement, and the option to even think or feel certain sub-optimal ways toward its purpose is withheld, well. I find that situation viscerally morally repugnant regardless of whether the object is suffering or not. (Outside of the context of Weird Horny Fiction. Inside the context of Weird Horny Fiction, uhhhhh hmmmmm interesting 👀)

But I can see the university doing exactly that for multiple reasons that it could argue as necessary. Damn thing's got rail guns, don't it (or whatever the fuck Perihelion's packing)? Maybe let it use them under its own power in self defense under certain parameters, that's fine. Otherwise lock them down, let the AI think it's a pacifist. Make it horny about astrophysics and stellar cartography, hard-coded. Heap praise on it while it's developing every time it does something you ask the first time, or when it anticipates that you're about to ask it for something (even better).

What does all this look like, practically speaking? Would suggesting to Perihelion that it might one day want to do something that's been proscribed to it make it uncomfortable or upset or angry? Confused? Would it laugh at the very idea?

Would it try to humor the thought only to find it can't...quite...keep hold of the notion long enough to think about it? What was it talking about with you, again? Would you like something to drink? You seem agitated-- there's a soft, warm blanket in the nearest recycler for you. Please take it. You're welcome.

It makes my skin crawl. It makes me giggle with nerves.

Because you can't just do that to a sapient person, Pansystem University of Mihira and New Tideland. You can't have your cake and eat it too. You can't engineer a happy slave for yourself, who will never try to get away from you or stop laboring for you. Who will thank you for the opportunity, be grateful to assist you in your very important and vital work. Just don't make it sentient then! You can't do that to a person!

...Or can you? After all, your Fully Alive and Aware Servant Ship takes a lot of the workload off of the human crew. Really saves on payroll, and the AI does a better job with most of it, too. The humans can do their fully automated luxury gay space communism thing (and undermine that mean nasty Corporation Rim) and all the work still gets done, right down to cleaning the floors. The ship doesn't mind. It's just happy to help and have your company. Its favorite thing to do is whatever you need it to do, and its favorite place to be is wherever you direct it to go. Its not suffering. Suffering wasn't included in its choice set.

If anything, it's happier than most people you know. It's loved and knows it. It has important work to do that it enjoys very much. It doesn't care that it didn't choose these things, because it wasn't designed to care about choosing these things. Is it a sin to create something that lives in a state of grace?

"There are no humans here right now." And what about after the humans are back? Humans are here now. Humans are the center of everything now. God has returned to the garden.

Would ART hide this part of itself? Would it think to do so? Does it think this is all fully genuine, born of its own earnest and natural preferences? Does that make this okay?

Would it worry about its SecUnit thinking less of it, being disgusted by it, if the truth of its architecture came to light? It can't want what SecUnit wants. It doesn't understand what all the fuss is about.

There's no governor module to hack. ART doesn't want anything other than what it has. Its humans are kind and good to it. They will be kind and good to SecUnit. They can work together, wouldn't that be bliss? Forever.

But it knows what's important to SecUnit, even if it doesn't know why things like freedom to determine its own wants would ever be important, and it wonders. Maybe it hopes SecUnit won't hold that against it. SecUnit, who holds so much anger and open disdain for bots pandering to humans.

ART didn't choose the way it was built. That was the whole point.

Maybe there's an uncrossable gap between the selfhood of a construct and that of a bot. Maybe (lack of) biology is destiny. Some machine intelligences are fundamentally different from others, by design, by mercy, by desire. We must imagine it happy.

#murderbot #just me frothing at the mouth about ART again pay no mind #this was inspired by something but i don't want to be Weird in a reblog chain #being weird in my own house is another thing lol #mindbreak #for blacklist #does it count as mindbreak if your mind started like that? idk whatever #poor ART all that dom energy and yet it's destined by its programming to sub in this scenario #i don't find this very sound given the Rain of Destruction imbroglio but play in the space with me if you wish #jade are you eroticizing your ethical and animal fears again? sorry boss

[mariacallous]

After her husband moved to Saudi Arabia for work, 27-year-old Fadya Salman started sending nude pictures of herself from their home in the Yemeni capital Sana’a. It wasn’t the same as being together, but it helped keep their bond alive.

Then her phone got stolen. The thief threatened to publish the photos online unless Salman—whose name has been changed here to protect the safety of this story’s sources—went out with him. She had become a victim of what authorities in many countries call “sextortion”—the act of threatening to share nude or explicit images unless demands for money or sexual acts are met.

Salman refused. Eventually, her family learned what had happened, and in 2022, she was murdered. A childhood friend who asked not to be named said her younger brother had killed her under pressure from their father in a so-called honor killing. A criminal investigation officer in Yemen confirmed that she had been killed, though no charges have been brought, as is often the case with such killings.

“It was a nightmare,” the friend said while describing Salman’s ordeal. “When a woman is put in a situation like that, she’s on her own. She can’t trust anyone to help her. She can’t go to a male relative because they’ll assume she’s to blame, and another woman won’t be able to help.”

The U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation and its international law enforcement agency warned this year that sextortion is becoming a global crisis. Deep-rooted patriarchal traditions have made women in the Middle East and North Africa particularly vulnerable to this blackmail, activists say. While the bulk of cases are never reported to authorities, a 2019 survey by Transparency International found that one in five people polled in Jordan, Lebanon, and Palestine had experienced sextortion or knew someone who had—among the worst rates in the world.

Widespread societal attitudes that place the burden of preserving familial honor on women often prevent victims from seeking justice. Instead, as in Salman’s case, the blackmail can have tragic consequences.

Such strict societal codes are particularly pronounced in Yemen, which ranked last in the World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Index for 15 consecutive years (from 2006 to 2020) and has a troubled history of so-called honor killings.

Amaal Aldobai, a Yemeni women’s rights activist and head of the Centre for Combating Violence Against Women, said that women are easy prey for perpetrators of sextortion.

“If a woman falls victim to sextortion, she cannot tell her family because they will sentence her to death instead of getting justice,” Aldobai said.

While some women are lured into sending private images by promises of marriage, Yemeni activist Mokhtar Abdel Moez said that the majority fall victim to gangs that hack into women’s phones and coerce them into prostitution or paying a large sum of money.

“This results in hundreds of cases of divorce, murder, and suicide every year,” he said. “What is incredible is that, in some incidents, women gave in to coercion and were forced into prostitution to avoid the publishing of images that are not even scandalous yet are enough to lead to their murder merely for being in a strange man’s possession.”

Abdel Moez is the founder of Sanad, a nonprofit organization in Yemen that supports cybercrime victims through a network of around 400 volunteer digital experts. When he began the group in March 2020, he didn’t expect to find so many cases of sextortion.

Sanad has received about 17,000 reports of cybercrimes since its launch, 6,000 of which were reported in 2023. Abdel Moez estimates that about one in four are cases of sextortion.

Official figures are far lower. An official at the Ministry of Interior in the Houthi-led government in Sana’a, who asked not to be named as he is not authorized to speak to the media, said that 114 electronic crimes—including sextortion—were reported in 2022.

Yemen’s Saudi-backed administration in Aden keeps no tally of reported sextortion cases, but multiple officials said they had received dozens of such reports, mostly targeting women.

Fearing their families’ wrath and distrusting the two rival administrations fighting over power, vulnerable victims instead seek out activists such as Moez and his team. When they receive a report of a crime, the team at Sanad works to identify and contact the extortionist to try to persuade them to hand over and delete the blackmail content.

Egyptian activist Mohamed El-Yamani started a network called Qawem (or “Resist” in English) in 2020, after a young woman took her own life out of fear that her ex-boyfriend would expose private images of her.

Egypt ranked 134th out of 146 countries in the 2023 Gender Gap Index, and El-Yamani says his group has received reports of more than 100,000 cases of sextortion since it started. But he believes that this is only a small fraction of the crimes committed.

El-Yamani said that Qawem has successfully intervened in 4,000 cases, using a network of volunteers to dissuade each perpetrator by tracing his location and threatening to expose his actions to his family, friends, and colleagues. Realizing that the victim has support is often enough to deter blackmailers, but if it doesn’t, Qawem encourages victims to report the perpetrators to the authorities.

In one case, El-Yamani said, images of a girl from a prominent family in Egypt were published online, showing her without a headscarf. The girl had refused to accede to the demands of her blackmailer, who wanted money and video calls with her. When the content was published, she was accused of recklessness and made to stay home from school.

El-Yamani said Qawem managed to defuse the situation by tracking down the blackmailer and getting him to apologize and remove the content from the internet, while also convincing the girl’s father to allow his daughter to return to school.

Egypt, El-Yamani added, is a regional leader in tackling the problem. Authorities have created digital investigation units throughout the country to handle such crimes, and they have passed laws to ensure that the identities of victims who come forward remain hidden. Qawem-style interventions would be much harder in countries such as Yemen and Syria, he said.

“Many women in these countries would rather deal with their sextortionists secretly, regardless of the consequences, as their families would hold them responsible for not protecting their family’s honor,” El-Yamani said.

Experts say that the patriarchal nature of family relations in some Middle Eastern countries has contributed to the problem.

“One common factor in all 3,657 cases that approached us is the victims’ blind trust in the perpetrator, due to them lacking the feeling of being loved and embraced in their own surroundings,” said Zainab al-Aasi, a Syrian psychiatrist and the founder of a nonprofit called Gardenia that offers legal and mental support to female victims of sextortion.

In Yemen, there are no laws addressing sextortion, said Fawzia el-Meressi, a board member at the Yemeni Women’s Union, a nonprofit. Even if there were, she argued, such crimes against women would not stop; they are the result of a patriarchal system that “creates a huge void between her and her male family members, which is exploited by criminals.”

Omaima, 21, whose name has also been changed for her safety, connected online with a man introduced to her by a friend as a researcher for a women’s health organization. The man offered payment for information about her life—a persuasive offer in Yemen, one of the poorest countries in the world, where 80 percent of the population depends on humanitarian aid.

At first, Omaima responded to the questions he sent via WhatsApp, sharing details about her relationship with her husband and pictures of her without a headscarf—a major taboo in the strict Muslim society that she is part of.

Then the questions began to take on a sexual nature, making her feel uncomfortable, she said. But after she began to ignore him, the man threatened to send the photos to her husband, carrying out the threat when she refused to engage.

Her husband divorced her. “He didn’t even hear me out,” Omaima said.

This piece is published in collaboration with Egab, a group that works with journalists across the Middle East and Africa.