#red-brown alliances

[hazardous-waste-containment]

Left-fascism: A generic term for fascisms that actively try to incorporate socialist egalitarianism and economic radicalism, and often to recruit from and even build bridges with the wider ‘Left’. Some might be best described as ‘fascists of the left’ (Ba‘athists, Ethnocacerists), others as the ‘left of fascism’ (Strasserists, Italy’s national syndicalists). There’s an argument to be made that only those deliberately and explicitly borrowing from the left count as left-fascist, which would generally exclude Strasserists.

Strasserism: A form of National Socialism — that is, fascism based on biological racism and antisemitic conspiracy theory — espousing a preferential role for the working class and something like guild socialism, inspired more by a medievalist völkisch ethos than by modern revolutionary doctrines (they were friendly to the USSR but so was Moeller van den Bruck). As always, read Postone.

It should be noted that while Otto was a fringe ultra who was expelled from the NSDAP in 1930 and went on to found his own paramilitary Black Front, Gregor was a high-ranking Nazi elite who ultimately distanced himself from his brother, actually tried to strike a deal with the conservatives behind Hitler’s back, and was assassinated mostly for threatening Hitler’s authority; i.e. the notion of a coherent left-wing ‘Strasserite’ faction in the NSDAP as late as 1934 is largely erroneous. That said, the idea of Strasserism has definitely exerted a strong influence on neo-Nazism, such as in the 1980s British National Front.

National Bolshevism: A term for a number of related phenomena: 1) a clique of White Russian émigrés who reconciled themselves to the Bolshevik state as a worthy continuation of Imperial Russia under new management, and later played a role in the development of Soviet patriotism under Stalin; 2) a tendency in Conservative Revolutionary circles gathered around Ernst Niekisch, a former socialist who moved right and saw the Russian Revolution as the recipe for an organic national rebirth; 3) a late Soviet tendency, both in and out of official Party channels, toward overt antisemitism, ethnic nationalism, and the rehabilitation of Russian national heroes within the framework of the Communist regime — today reflected in the ultra-nationalism and social conservatism of Zyuganov’s CPRF; 4) a neo-fascist political tendency founded by Aleksandr Dugin and Eduard Limonov in 1993, inspired more or less by all of the above and fusing expansionist Russian ultra-nationalism, nostalgia for the USSR as a bulwark against the West, and a provocative and eclectic style drawing from communism, anarchism, Nazism, and punk.

Russian National Bolshevism has been the inspiration for, among other things, ex-Strasserist Matthew Heimbach’s reformation of the Traditionalist Workers’ Party along radically anti-capitalist lines and attempts to infiltrate the progressive left, and the small Brotherhood group in Ukraine which is interesting for its intense Christian religiosity.

I do not know remotely enough about Francis Parker Yockey to discuss him adequately here.

Third-Positionism: What fascists would simply call the Third Position. It is often conflated with ‘nazbols’, but in fact third-positionists make no claims to having anything to do with the left, certainly not with communism. Developing in postwar Western Europe (originally Italy, later France, the UK etc before spreading elsewhere) under the influence of Julius Evola, the Strasser brothers, the European New Right as well as Perónism and other Third World national liberation movements, it advocated a European and global rebirth by carving out a holistic national alternative to the twin evils of capitalism and communism.

The goal is to reveal the bankruptcy of the political spectrum itself: apparently progressive issues were actually nationalist all along and apparently reactionary ones are actually revolutionary, right and left must both be dissolved and transcended in the organic unity of the nation (a very old fascist argument). Presumably the third-positionist adoption of causes like ecologism, anti-capitalism, anti-globalization, Third Worldism, and in at least one case (Mexico) even indigenous liberation is what makes people automatically conflate it with red-brown stuff, but — with the exception of Dugin’s revealingly-named Fourth Political Theory — there is almost never any actual ‘red’ involved (unlike for a National Bolshevik like Limonov or Heimbach): there doesn’t need to be because fascism is already a ‘third position’ in their eyes.

The National Front in its ‘Strasserist’ phase, mentioned above, is a good example and it’s telling that they were so infatuated with Qadhdhafi as to basically regard the Green Book as their political program; ‘International Third Position’ was a later breakaway from the NF led by Roberto Fiore of the original Italian Terza Posizione. IME the Third Position is often explicitly Christian, but there’s a very small Albanian group that’s neo-pagan (and probably better examples I just haven’t seen).

#red-brown alliances #varieties of fascism #crony corporatism

[natsync6]

"The subject of communism was class, fascism’s subject was the state, in italian fascism under mussolini, or race in hitler’s national socialism, in liberalism, the subject was represented by the individual, freed from all forms of collective identity"

- alexander dugin

#alexander dugin #red-brown alliances #economics #antifascist #antifascismo #antifaschistische aktion #antifaschismus #corporatism #benito mussolini

[butwhatifidothis]

What gets me about GW defenders saying that "Claude siding with Edelgard shows how far he's willing to go to get what he wants, he'll use anyone to further his goals" is that, even if that were accurate to his character... that's not what he does in GW. At all.

Which one of Claude's goals are ever progressed once he sides with Edelgard? And how does siding with Edelgard, specifically, accomplish said goal?

Maybe... killing Rhea? But all of the reasons he says he wants her gone in this game are either completely unproven or blatantly incorrect - there's no proof of the Church forcing arranged marriages, Crests do not force obligations onto those that have them (which Claude himself literally proves), and the Church is helping Dimitri restore Duscur - a foreign nation - meaning they are actively willing to help fulfill Claude's main goal that he came to the officer's academy to achieve.

And... that's it! That is the only possible thing that even POTENTIALLY helps Claude's dreams, and taking a five-second look at it shows that it actually does nothing at all to help anything. But in the meantime? Claude weakens Faerghus through agitating Sreng and invading it himself, forcing Dimitri to fight a three front war; he actively helps Edelgard get herself out of a messy situation, even though not helping her and letting her die would have actually helped him and would have actually been him using her like people keep saying he's trying to do; he and Holst even admit that by the end of the war Edelgard is going to make a vassal state of Leicester after taking the lion's share of Faerghus' territory for themselves, which Leicester can't do anything about because of Adrestia's far stronger military. He is the one saying that! He is the one pointing out that that is going to happen! And yet he just keeps going anyway!

He is the one getting used. Very blatantly, and very extensively. Claude walked himself into a trap and lied to himself into thinking he's the one with the upper hand, which somehow managed to convince a large portion of the fanbase too. There's no gray morality here, there's no cunning being showcased, Claude is just an evil stupid tool

#clyde discourse #doing a read over for what i have for the GW rewrite and just. man. #like. it's hard to even like Clyde as a villain because he is just so incomprehensively incompetent in literally everything he does #once Part 2 hits #like imagine if he helped EdeckyWecky up to the point where she'd ACTUALLY die without his help... and he doesn't give it #he lets her die and lets the Empire crumble without leadership #but Dimitri can't take advantage of that because he still has to deal with Sreng and the Alliance #meanwhile Clyde is sneaking in more and more Almyran forces through Nader manipulating Mr. King of Almyra #until he has enough to take on the weakened Kingdom and force it under submission through the constant pressure he's forcing it under #not through brute force but just through wearing them down to the point where they just can't keep going #and in his zeal to conquer Fodlan he fails to recognize that he's just become Shahid; someone who wants to become king no matter the cost #like imagine it's never said outright but that THIS is how power corrupts once genuinely good people #they're so focused on getting to the end point that they gradually care less and less about how red their path to that end point is #until oops everyone is either dead; too scared/unable to fight back; or are also swept up in the mindset of By Any Means Necessary #THAT'D BE A NEAT VILLAIN. even if it's not *Claude* at all that is a villain i could get behind! #but people keep insisting that 1) Clyde isn't a villain (he is) that 2) he's doing the right thing (he's not) #and that 3) he's in any way compelling (he's just brown Eddy Geddy but stupid)

[princesswithsomeinterests]

Red wants to be a pawn if jag/blue come down, this man bouta be evicted during his #1’s hoh slskskdk

#bb25 #it’s giving Nicole and brown tooth Elvis from last year lmaoooo #how doesn’t red know that he’s on the bottom of his alliances by now

[colomkola]

Didn't think Fuentes could get worse, but him simping over Stalin and denying Holodomor is something I thought I'd never see.

#chuck e cheese x freddy fazbear #i hate stalin #tankies #politics #ukraine #holodomor #stalin #nick fuentes #red brown alliance

[wardrobe-goblin]

Gilded Knight // Horde & Alliance // Plate set // Warrior // Items used

#WoW #warcraft #warrior #World of Warcraft #wow warrior #plate #plate set #transmogrification #transmog #wow transmog #custom transmog #wardrobe goblin transmog #horde #alliance #brown #red #silver #knight #video games #video game

[evilelitest2]

I’m so tired of how social politics has gone in the past few years. Especially with how the right has taken to just straight up calling LGBT people g*******. And how people like Glenn Greenwald and Crystal Ball lend credance to them, with Glenn being basically Tucker Carlson’s butt buddy and Crystal going, “oh, all those LGBT people facing targetted harrassment are merely figments of unimportant culture war drivel.” (Heavy paraphasing but pretty much that)

Makes me wish Antifa Super Soldier wasn’t just a meme if you catch my drift.

I do catch your drift and i don't disagree

HOnestly, I think one of the biggest issues facing the left (or at least the American left) is the fact that it has been so utterlyinfested/infiltrated with a swarm of reactionaries, grifters, abusers' and conspiracy theorists in leftist clothing. As much as we (correctly) talk shit about liberals inability to recognize when fascists are in there midst, the left is actually also has a relaly bad time doing that. The fact that there is anybody who thinks Glenn Greenwald is a leftist shows that the left is not ready for real power yet

#ask evilelitest2 #Left needs to examine itself #Alt Left #reactionary left #Faux left #dirtbag left #Red brown alliance #Nazbol

[little-spicy]

SNOWFALL

Robb Stark x !Baratheon Reader

Summary: an alliance of house Baratheon and house Stark was going to set place in Winterfell. Y/N Baratheon and Robb Stark were to be wed and be man and wife.

WARNING: MDNI!! Smut 🔥🔥

THE EARLY MORNING WAS CRISP AND COLD, the warm breath that Y/N emitted could be seen in the air.

She held her coat close to her as she watched the morning sunrise. She felt sad as this would be the last moment she would be a young maiden. She would be married later in the afternoon and she felt frightened.

She was told her entire childhood that Robb Stark would be her betrothed. Her father and his father were friends and her father knew the best way their houses could come together was through marriage.

She was the oldest, being one year old than Joffrey and the only one of her family to have her fathers brown curls.

Of course her mother despised the agreement, she believed her daughter was worthy of a better suitor but nonetheless it was still set in stone.

Robb Stark was definitely different from what she imagined. She knew it could of been worse, he was a gentleman and kind, showing her the home that was soon to be shared.

And she could tell he was just as nervous was her. They were both young and knew their duties were required one day.

Y/N tried not to think of it as she felt the sun rise and felt the heat of the sun rest on red cheeks.

"Excited for the big day?" A voice said and Y/N jumped and turned to see her uncle Tyrion coming forward.

"Excited to be married and away from my family?" She asked her uncle sighed and stood beside her.

"It's probably better, you and I both know that kingslanding is no place for someone like you." He told her.

"And what am I?" She asked and he chuckled.

"Truthful, kind, surprising you turned out that way considering how your mother is." He said and she laughed.

"Don't say that too loud, mother can hear everything." She told him.

"That's because your mother is a wicked witch, have I taught you nothing from my bedtime stories?" Tyrion asked and the both laughed.

"I do, even though I know how my family is, I'll still miss them." She said and looked down at her uncle. "Especially you, what will I do without my favorite uncle?"

"You'll adapt, you'll grow that's a good quality you have as well." Tyrion said. "Just know that you'll be taken care of, that Robb stark is a good man, I hate to admit but he's a good man."

"Thank you." Y/N stared at the sunset and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Time to start the day?"

"Of course, let's go." Tyrion said and walked with his niece.

Both of them taking of the future and of the past, making Y/N feel at ease from the words of her uncle.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the small walk and talking with her uncle, she returned to her chambers and only a few moments of peace lasted until her hand maidens came in and began to get ready for the wedding.

She smelled of lavender and lilac, and her long brown curls fell perfectly. She felt refreshed and as they dried her, she saw her wedding gown laying on the bed.

Soon her mother, Lady Stark, and her soon to be sister Sansa had come in to help.

The Stark women came to bring Y/N gifts to welcome her into their home. Sansa had helped make a veil for Y/N and Lady Stark had brought a beautiful brooch of the Stark family to welcome her.

She felt so honored by the kindness of the Stark family, of course she could tell there was never a dull moment.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone with my daughter." Cersei told the Stark ladies and the nodded.

"Of course, see you at the wedding my dear." Lady Stark said and Sansa followed behind and left the two women alone.

Cersei looked at her daughter and smiled, she placed her hands on her daughter's cheek and led her to the dresser.

"Let me do your hair." Cersei said and Y/N nodded and felt content as her mother brushed through her hair. Feeling as if they were home in the castle. "This will be the last time I do it, then you'll do it for daughters of your own."

"I'll miss this." Y/N said sadly. "You always made the prettiest braids."

"Your grandmother did the same thing for me when I was a child." Cersei told her. "You remind me so much of her, my mother was so kind and i remember the day you were born, I could just feel my mother's presence in you."

As Cersei continued to brush, Y/N but her bottom lip and felt the creeping question she always had when it came to her betrothal.

"Mother, is it scary?" Y/N asked her. "I mean I know you didn't marry father for love, how did you do it?"

"Wine, lots of wine." Cersei said, bitterly and grabbed a chunk of hair and brushed it softly. "Overtime it did help that I had children, I had you, that's all that mattered."

"Do you think he'll make me happy?" Y/N asked and Cersei scoffed.

"I wouldn't count too much on that, sometimes it's just an alliance, remember that." Cersei told her and Y/N grew silent. "Are only duty is to marry and bring honor to our house through marriage and bare many children."

Y/N nodded and the two of them fell silent as Cersei continued to do her daughter's hair.

Cersei loved all her children but something about Y/N was special. She was her first, the first one of her children to truly live. She looked up at Cersei and when she did it felt as if nothing mattered.

Her daughter looked up to her and still does, Cersei knows the type of person she is, but the warmth and innocent eyes of her daughter made her feel human and her softer side was only seen by her.

Cersei didn't care of that her daughter wasn't Jaime's all she cared was that her daughter was protected. She truly had a place for her little doe.

"Lets get you in your dress." Cersei said as Y/N looked in the mirror and saw her hair up in a beautiful braid.

She followed her mother and helped her in her dress. She tied up her corset and helped her to the tiniest detail, knowing this would be the last time she would.

"You look beautiful." Cersei said as she led Y/N to the mirror. Y/N felt truly beautiful, she forgot for just a moment what awaited her and felt happy with how she looked.

"Thank you mother." Y/N said and turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. Cersei held her daughter right and tried not to cry.

The women heard a knock on the door and Cersei wiped the tears away quickly and cleared her throat.

"Come in." Cersei said and the door opened to reveal Robert Baratheon, Y/N's father.

"You look so beautiful my little doe." Robert said and came over, he took her hands and took a long look at her.

Y/N blushed and smiled as her father looked down at her with such pride. He thought Lyanna was the most beautiful but at that moment, his daughter was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

"Let us go." Robert said and Cersei sighed and grabbed her veil and placed it over her. "Robb will treat you right, he's a noble man."

Cersei fought the urge to bite back but knew better than to do it. Y/N walked along her mother and father as they began to walk.

Each step they took Y/N began to fully realize she was getting married.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Many people were at the Godswood, the heart of Winterfell and where Lord Stark wanted the ceremony to be.

The tree stood beautiful before them, the faint redness of the leaves contrasted with the white snow. The birds chirped and the small murmurs of the people from Winterfell and the guests that came from Kingslanding.

Her mother parted from her reluctantly and went to where her brothers stood and Robert guided Y/N down the snowy path.

Y/N could see Robb in his bear skin cloak, his face freshly shaven and his eyes were full of emotions. Fear, admiration, and another one she couldn't figure out.

She felt her heart race as she came closer and closer to him. As Y/N and Robert came up to Robb, Robert smiled down.

"Take care of her." Robert said and walked over to his wife.

Robb looked at Y/N and he smiled, she blushed at his gaze and the Septon interrupted their eye contact.

"You may now cloak your bride and bring her under protection." The Septon said and Robb did so and placed the large cloak over her shoulders.

Robb then placed his hand on her back to bring her closer to the Septon and he continued.

"My lords and my ladies, we stand here to unite these two houses as one. Princess Y/N Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark as one flesh, one blood, and one soul."

The Septon pulled out a ribbon and grabbed both of their hands. Y/N's hands were shaking as the Septon took her hand and when Robb placed his hand on top of hers he took it gently and squeezed.

"In the sight of all who sees and in the eyes of the gods I hereby bound these two souls, binding them as one." The Septon spoke. "You may kiss your bride."

Robb looked at Y/N and leaned down to kiss her softly. When they kissed it felt strange, an unfamiliar feeling crept up and Y/N didn't know what it was but she liked it.

The feeling of his warm lips against her made her forget of everyone around them, ignoring the sounds of their cheering and screams of the houses being united.

They parted their kiss and looked at each other with bewilderment. Y/N smiled first and made Robb smile back, he kissed her left cheek softly and the both turned to the crowd in front of them.

"I present to you Lord Robb Stark and Lady Y/N Stark." The Septon spoke and everyone erupted in applause once more.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the wedding ceremony the feast that was held afterwards was a party to remember. For once everything seemed peaceful and joyful.

Cersei was actually civil with her brother Tyrion, Robert was blinding drunk yet, and even Joffrey was not as unpleasant as usual.

Everyone cheered and praised the happy couple, giving them their blessings and kind words.

It seemed everyone was so engrossed with the feast that Robb took Y/N away from the loud noises and back to their now shared chamber.

Y/N and Robb were still in their wedding garments, Y/N was able to get her braid undone and her long hair flowed behind her back. They were both unsure of what to do, and stood in front of each other in nervousness.

"I- uh- I know this isn't- that this is-" Robb was then was cut off by Y/N.

"Strange?" Y/N said and Robb nodded and sighed in relief.

"Yes." Robb answered. "We don't have to-"

"I- I want to." Y/N said, her face turning red. "I just want you to know, I know I'm not the ideal girl you intended to marry but I want to be the best wife I can."

Robb's eyes softened at her words, she cupped his cheeks.

"I don't want to be like my mother and father." She told him. "I want to be an ally, a companion, so much more than just an alliance."

She kissed both his cheeks and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.

"I'd like that, I want you to know that I will be an honorable man."'Robb told her and held her tight. "I know I'm not the man you wanted either but I promise you I'll treat you as an equal."

Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her shoulders and guided him to take off her dress. The world felt still and they both felt as if they couldn't breath once Y/N's dress fell on the floor.

Robb then got on his knees and kissed up her thigh, she blushed bright red and felt electricity as she felt every kiss on her thigh.

She tried to hide a moan but Robb heard her and that's what made him feel bold, snap.

Robb suddenly got up and picked her up bridal style, she squealed as he placed her on the bed.

Y/N looked up to Robb and the look in his eyes held lust. She watched as Robb moved his hands across her body and felt her body tingle and goosebumps erupted.

He placed her on the warm bed, layered with thick blankets, and the soft feel of sheep's skin.

Her long hair fell back as Robb looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust.

"Gods, you're beautiful." He said and kissed one of her breast, causing her to squirm.

He smiled while continuing to kiss her, he went up to her neck and up until he reached her lips.

She kissed him and touched his cheeks gently. As they pulled apart they put their foreheads together and both caught their breaths.

"It's going to hurt for a second, I'll be gentle I promise." Robb told her and she could feel her tummy flutter as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it through he folds, touching her clit over and over.

She felt terror rise in her chest as she awaited the pain, all her life after she gotten her maiden hood, her maids, mother, and septas told her of the pain of her wedding night.

She felt his cock slide through and she hissed, she immediately put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He stopped and saw the tears fall.

"I'm sorry." He said and kissed her cheeks and waited for her to allow him to move.

"It's alright." Y/N told him and looked up to him with glossy eyes. "You can move, love."

The nickname she gave him made his heart swell and he moved at a slow pace, he tried not to cum as he felt her warm, tight walls grip him.

She felt the uncomfortable burn of being stretched and as he continued to move, the more bearable it was. The soon burn began to make her stomach flutter, and her breath hitch.

Robb watched as her expression changed from pain to pleasure. It made Robb swell with pride as his wife felt pleasure and leaned down and kissed her as his pace didn't stop.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped into his auburn curls. As they released each other from their kiss, she threw her head back with a moan.

"Please." She begged and Robb smirked, leaning down to her her ear.

"What? What do you need?" He asked tauntingly, and pulled back slowly and slammed back into her and she yelped in surprise.

"Please, don't hold back." She looked at him and touch her hand on cheek. "Fuck me."

She kissed him once more and he moaned in her mouth and obliged to her and began to fully pound into her.

He was feral, he was relentless and fully in heaven as she milked him.

"I-I'm, oh gods!" She yelled and felt her walls clamped down onto his shaft.

She felt him shudder in pleasure as his ropes of cum began to fill inside her.

"Gods, yes." He moaned and jolted as he moved his cock in and out slowly, coming down from his high.

She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as she began to breathe heavily from her first orgasm.

Robb pulled out of her and she felt full of his seed as he collapsed beside her. She moved to her side to face him, the faint glow of the candles and fire shone on his face.

The look of happiness and content from his face made her heart swell.

"Hi." She said to him, which caused him to chuckle.

"Hi." He said and she felt her cheeks redden.

He put his hand on her hip and he could feel the goosebumps rise.

"So that was-" Robb couldn't find the words and she finished for him.

"Amazing." She said and he nodded, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly.

"Now that you're my wife, I won't be able to get enough." He said and she shuffled closer to him and he held her in his arms. "I meant what I said."

"What?" She asked and looked up at him.

"I'd treat you as an equal, my wife and a friend." He said and Y/N laid her head on his chest. Smiling hearing those words and hearing the sound of his heart beating.

"Thank you." She said and moaned as she felt Robb touch her clit and made her squirm in his arms.

"What do you say, lady stark, another time?" He asked and felt his cum coat her thighs and smeared his cum around as lube and she could feel herself getting wet again.

"Yes, my lord." She said and Robb growled and got on top of her, she giggled as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed him.

She felt happiness in his arms, and held him close. Both of them later in the night tangled in each other and asleep together.

Both of them glad that they were husband and wife.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!

#game of thrones #Robb stark x reader #Robb stark smut #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #got x reader smut #Robb stark x reader smut #fanfic #smut #smut x reader

[nwndrlndn]

Unintended

pairing : anakin skywalker x f!reader; mentions of anakin skywalker x padme amidala and f!reader x gn!oc | wc : 5.9k | 18+MINORS DNI

summary : vader never planned to love again, and you never thought he could

warnings : angst and smut, toxic relationships, possessiveness, threats of violence/murder, semi public sex, clothed sex, size difference, degradation and praise, improper use of the force, a bit of dacryphillia.

a/n : this was a passion project and its also my first ever fic and its probably shit. ive also never written smut before so pray for me <3

Palpatine had heard of your family's alliance with the rebels before Vader ever met you. At the Emperor’s request, the Death Star approached Karlinus, and Vader came to your planet. You had been working at your family’s tea shop when the dark lord entered. Immediately, there was a chill in the air. As a poor family, you did not know much about the Jedi or the Senate, and you had no options to do so after the empire took hold. So your life had to continue, working with your family at a tea shop.

At the moment you recognized that it was Darth Vader who had come into your family’s tea shop, he was already looking down at you, carefully taking in your features. Though you weren’t identical, the way you moved, the way you carried yourself, the way you treated others. It all reminded him of Padmè. With a light twist of his hand, he sent customers and your family to the wall, the tables, and tea cups shattering against the wall, and you stood in fear, shaking from the presence of the Imperial enforcer.

You watched, frozen, but unsure if it was fear or the force keeping you still as Vader took deliberate steps from the doorway to stand before you, barely a step away. Carefully, he lifted his hand to your cheek, touching where a stray piece of porcelain had cut your cheek and you flinched instinctively. He smeared the blood across your cheek as he looked down at you through the gaze of his red lenses, watching as you sucked in a breath, relishing as he used the force to hear how your body reacted. Vader smiled as he heard your breathing pick up and your heart race before he pulled back slightly, taking off his helmet to show his face.

You took in the details of his face, but when you tried to look into his yellow eyes, the feeling was so unnerving you had to look away. As you looked at him, you realized how attractive Vader truly was. His messy, curly-wavy shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin, and the long scar across his right eye. He had a broad athletic build and was muscular, and in his suit, you barely reached his shoulders. He had a well-defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. For a moment, you felt like you were looking at an actor from a holodrama, not a Sith Lord.

“Name," Vader said coldly, and you looked away from fear that you would be punished for staring. But you couldn't avoid his gaze as he suddenly grabbed you by your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and his gaze intensely focused on you.

“Y/N…" You said breathlessly, trying not to say anything from his harsh grip on you. He stared a moment longer before he nodded. His hand moved to move away stray strands of hair from your face. Vader’s glare was hot and made you want to squirm, but in his mind, he was imagining a new life for you.

“Salomé," Vader said flatly as he grabbed your arm. “That is what you will be called now. You are Salomé Amidala.” He said before he shoved you towards the clones that accompanied him.

Palpatine had heard of your family's alliance with the rebels before Vader ever met you. At the Emperor’s request, the Death Star approached Karlinus, and Vader came to your planet. You had been working at your family’s tea shop when the dark lord entered. Immediately, there was a chill in the air. As a poor family, you did not know much about the Jedi or the Senate, and you had no options to do so after the empire took hold. So your life had to continue, working with your family at a tea shop.

At the moment you recognized that it was Darth Vader who had come into your family’s tea shop, he was already looking down at you, carefully taking in your features. Though you weren’t identical, the way you moved, the way you carried yourself, the way you treated others. It all reminded him of Padmè. With a light twist of his hand, he sent customers and your family to the wall, the tables, and tea cups shattering against the wall, and you stood in fear, shaking from the presence of the Imperial enforcer.

You watched, frozen, but unsure if it was fear or the force keeping you still as Vader took deliberate steps from the doorway to stand before you, barely a step away. Carefully, he lifted his hand to your cheek, touching where a stray piece of porcelain had cut your cheek and you flinched instinctively. He smeared the blood across your cheek as he looked down at you through the gaze of his red lenses, watching as you sucked in a breath, relishing as he used the force to hear how your body reacted. Vader smiled as he heard your breathing pick up and your heart race before he pulled back slightly, taking off his helmet to show his face.

You took in the details of his face, but when you tried to look into his yellow eyes, the feeling was so unnerving you had to look away. As you looked at him, you realized how attractive Vader truly was. His messy, curly-wavy shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin, and the long scar across his right eye. He had a broad athletic build and was muscular, and in his suit, you barely reached his shoulders. He had a well-defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. For a moment, you felt like you were looking at an actor from a holodrama, not a Sith Lord.

“Name," Vader said coldly, and you looked away from fear that you would be punished for staring. But you couldn't avoid his gaze as he suddenly grabbed you by your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and his gaze intensely focused on you.

“Y/N…" You said breathlessly, trying not to say anything from his harsh grip on you. He stared a moment longer before he nodded. His hand moved to move away stray strands of hair from your face. Vader’s glare was hot and made you want to squirm, but in his mind, he was imagining a new life for you.

“Salomé," Vader said flatly as he grabbed your arm. “That is what you will be called now. You are Salomé Amidala.” He said before he shoved you towards the clones that accompanied him.

Palpatine had heard of your family's alliance with the rebels before Vader ever met you. At the Emperor’s request, the Death Star approached Karlinus, and Vader came to your planet. You had been working at your family’s tea shop when the dark lord entered. Immediately, there was a chill in the air. As a poor family, you did not know much about the Jedi or the Senate, and you had no options to do so after the empire took hold. So your life had to continue, working with your family at a tea shop.

At the moment you recognized that it was Darth Vader who had come into your family’s tea shop, he was already looking down at you, carefully taking in your features. Though you weren’t identical, the way you moved, the way you carried yourself, the way you treated others. It all reminded him of Padmè. With a light twist of his hand, he sent customers and your family to the wall, the tables, and tea cups shattering against the wall, and you stood in fear, shaking from the presence of the Imperial enforcer.

You watched, frozen, but unsure if it was fear or the force keeping you still as Vader took deliberate steps from the doorway to stand before you, barely a step away. Carefully, he lifted his hand to your cheek, touching where a stray piece of porcelain had cut your cheek and you flinched instinctively. He smeared the blood across your cheek as he looked down at you through the gaze of his red lenses, watching as you sucked in a breath, relishing as he used the force to hear how your body reacted. Vader smiled as he heard your breathing pick up and your heart race before he pulled back slightly, taking off his helmet to show his face.

You took in the details of his face, but when you tried to look into his yellow eyes, the feeling was so unnerving you had to look away. As you looked at him, you realized how attractive Vader truly was. His messy, curly-wavy shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin, and the long scar across his right eye. He had a broad athletic build and was muscular, and in his suit, you barely reached his shoulders. He had a well-defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. For a moment, you felt like you were looking at an actor from a holodrama, not a Sith Lord.

“Name," Vader said coldly, and you looked away from fear that you would be punished for staring. But you couldn't avoid his gaze as he suddenly grabbed you by your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and his gaze intensely focused on you.

“Y/N…" You said breathlessly, trying not to say anything from his harsh grip on you. He stared a moment longer before he nodded. His hand moved to move away stray strands of hair from your face. Vader’s glare was hot and made you want to squirm, but in his mind, he was imagining a new life for you.

“Salomé," Vader said flatly as he grabbed your arm. “That is what you will be called now. You are Salomé Amidala.” He said before he shoved you towards the clones that accompanied him.

After you were taken, your parents turned their backs on the rebels, aligning themselves with the Empire in the hopes that they would see you again. But, Vader never allowed them, he never let his new bride out of his sight. It was a message to the rebels, that hope stood no place in this galaxy.

Darth Vader sits on his throne in his Imperial Fortress on Mustafar. The room is lit carefully to intimidate his visitors and advisors. Without looking, you know what he looks like. After nearly 6 months of marriage, you knew him as well as you knew yourself, though he hadn’t put in the same effort for you. You know the way the slight breeze from the fan hits his face and makes him blink more, how his hair is pushed back by this breeze, showing off scars on his cheeks and over his right eye, and you know he has never smiled, not even the day he married you.

You stay still, weighed down by the traditional Nabooian clothes, headpieces and face paint you are made to wear. The black silk gown had red embroidered motifs with a potolli fur trim. The bottom of the dress wide skirt was decorated with red kyber crystals. You fiddled with a piece of the headpiece that reached your hand. Two frame faces sit on either side of your headpiece as various red jewels fall on silver chains, from the top of your head and down your back. 

As Vader deals with meeting after meeting, request after request, he does not acknowledge you as you sit by his side, and you stay silent, not wishing to upset him. As an old advisor drones on and on, only every few moments, he pauses to look at you a bit better.

There were whispers across the galaxy, ones your handmaidens told you as they readied you in the morning. That the people had begun to believe that Padmé Amidala lived, that the sith had found a way to bring life back to the dead. Everyone thought Padmé was back, but she wasn’t. And Vader did not love you like he loved her, he couldn't. He had reminded you enough, you may be his bride but he will always love her and not you.

As you start to pay attention to the meeting again, you listen to Vader rebuking the advisor – what was his name again? Bevinorr? Apprai? It hardly mattered, you never had to speak before and you’re sure that the day you will speak, you will meet Padmé Amidala for yourself– when something catches your attention.

"It seems, Sabitho, that you suffer from a severe lack of awareness," Vader's voice rumbles, his tone laced with a barely contained anger. "This is not Padmé Amidala you address, but my wife, Salomé. Address her correctly. Failure to do so will have consequences."

The advisor stammers, realizing his mistake, and quickly corrects himself. "Apologies, my Lord Vader. I meant no disrespect."

"See that it doesn't happen again," Vader warns, his voice filled with a dark warning. He turns his attention back to the advisor, his presence demanding absolute obedience. As you observe the interaction, feeling a mixture of gratitude and unease towards Vader's protection. It is a constant reminder that you are only a substitute for the woman he truly loves. 

In Vader’s mind, that is all you were supposed to be only a replacement for what he had lost. You were not meant to be more than someone to keep him from being alone. So he didn’t let you get close. You were restricted to your own bed chamber on the opposite side of his own on the Fortress, he didn’t spend more time with you than needed, and he reminded himself of her every day. 

Padmé. You would never be Padmé. You could never so completely own Vader’s heart as Padmé owned Anakin. You could not bring out anything else from him, not when he had already scooped out his whole being, gave her all of the good that could come out of him. And the good that Padmé so desperately believed was still inside of him? He scoured it the moment he learned he had killed her. 

Anakin and Padmé were both dead, they died together on Mustafar with his dreams of a family, the lightness in him snuffed out because of his rage. He deserved to be alone and suffer, and yet… he couldn’t. Palpatine had forced him to take a bride, to get control of the family of rebel scum that left him with you. It had caused many on your home planet to surrender to the Empire and end their resistance. A victory by any means.

He can’t love. He is sure of it. What he did to his wife, the mother of his children, to Padmé is the proof alone. Then why was it that he felt that twinge in his chest after he would be particularly cruel to his Salomé? The first month, all she did was cry in her chamber and refuse to obey orders. It only served to infuriate him them. So he tried to be gentler to get her obedience. And when he did, she listened. 

Some nights, she would still cry and he could sense it in the force. But most nights, she thought of a man, someone other than him. The only time he could sense any happiness, was at the thought of someone who wasn’t him. And thats when he felt the sinking feeling, one he felt when Rush Clovis and Padmé were alone together. So he spoiled Salomé, she was his after all. She should only think of him, he has brought her a life that she would have never lived if not for him. Salomé was his. She only needed to accept it.

Meeting after meeting comes and goes, and he continues to work. You take the time to think back to Karlinus, and the ones you left behind. One face comes first, before your parents and friends… Gracies Gras. Just thinking of them reminds you of the time you spent together; walking in the woods behind your houses, them gifting you silk dresses that you had eyed during trips to the city, and imagining a future together.

As your mind drifts to Gracies, a tear slips from your eye, streaking the white face paint on you and landing at the corner of your mouth. Your hand traces a small metal bracelet you wear, it held a small hologram of Gracies that you would speak to at night and it was programmed to respond. It was the only comfort you had and you were lucky not to lose it when Vader took you.

“We will rule the galaxy, as husband and wife.” Vader finally speaks, his gloved thumb wiping the tear from your mouth. You turn to face him, startled by his sudden interest in speaking to you and look around, realizing you two are alone in the room.

Darth Vader knows full well that you never wanted this life and he is well aware that you are in love with someone else. He hates this for so many reasons - the forming love he has for you, his jealousy and disdain for the other man, but most importantly because he never wanted to rule the galaxy. That was Palpatine’s goal. He would have been perfectly happy to just keep his new bride and destroy Palpatine if he had the opportunity. The Emperor had tricked him.

You stay silent for a moment, only nodding absently as to not upset him, but then you feel anger start to bubble up inside you. In all this time, you weren’t treated like a person, but rather a doll. Put in elaborate outfits each day and paraded around to show that Vader is not alone.

“You have forced this life upon me. I should working in my family’s tea shop on Karlinus, and marrying someone I love.” You slowly begin to speak, starting quietly, before you start to get more confident as you continue.

“I see, and who is this man you love?” Vader speaks, his tone threatening and he begins to grip the armrests of his chair tightly.

“He is a good man. A man who cares for me and others.” You respond defensively and avoiding his gaze.

“You do not think I care for you?” His voice threatens to break and his eyes narrow. The very thought that you could even think this sets him fuming. Despite his anger though he keeps his voice calm and even. When you don’t answer immediately, you feel your arm being grabbed and turned roughly to look at him. He stares at you intensely, his eyes boring holes into your very being. He looks as if he has no other thought in his mind beyond making his point of what he’s saying. You have no choice, you have to look into his eyes. He is completely unmoving and completely still. The rage inside him however is growing and threatening to break every second. How dare you even think that to be true. How dare you even have the audacity.

“I am the most powerful force user in the galaxy. No one can stand up to me. I am a Lord. A Lord of the Sith. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire. Do you not understand the power that I wield? And I care for you and only you.” This is as close to passionate and emotional as Darth Vader will ever get. He is making a point. You will not disrespect him. You. Will. Not.

“Let go of me.” You whisper helplessly, trying to tug your arm away from him. Vader’s words were one thing, but he never showed you love. And even if he did, you couldn’t trust him.

“Then perhaps you should leave, and go back to whoever you love.” Vader lets go of your arm and his expression becomes calm and stoic again, though his words still hold that edge that you’ve come to recognize that means he’s about to snap.

Vader stands up and takes a step towards you, towering over your very being. He leans down and puts his face right up close to yours, his breath warm as he whispers.

“Prove it. Prove that you mean what you say. Leave this place. Leave me. Leave this entire empire. Leave and go to him. If you truly want to leave, and truly love him, go try. You can leave at any time. Leave, but know I will be coming for you, and when I find you I will keep you. I will put you in your place. I will kill him. I will take you. You will be mine. I will not let you go. Is that understood?”

You’re silent, partially from shock and partially from your own anger. As you stare at him, he stares back and as he opens his mouth to repeat himself, you speak.

“I understand.”

Vader doesn’t react. For a moment, you think you’ve finally gotten to him, but he doesn’t even move. It’s as though this never even happened. He stares blankly at you with cold, black eyes, and slowly walks away, his form already fading out of the door before you can even react.

Over the next few days, you make your plans to leave carefully. You find a handmaiden that looks the most like you and help her learn to speak like you, act like you, and walk like you. After a few more days of practice, you manage to assemble a disguise and kit to stow away with onto a starfighter that you have been learning to fly. 

At the same time, Vader already knows of your plans and has steps in place so he can follow you if and when you escape. He slowly walks from his meeting to his meditation chamber. He enters, and without even an ounce of hesitation, he sits down, and he begins to meditate. He allows himself to clear his mind, until all that is left is his connection with the Force.

Let me hear her voice. Let me hear her voice one more time. Vader whispers to himself, before closing his eyes and beginning deep breathing. As always, an image of Salomé flashes through his mind. Her eyes, her face, her smile, all of it is as clear as ever to him. He breaks his meditation, opening his eyes. A small smile crosses his lips, the first expression he has had in a long, long while. He gestures towards the door, and in an instant it slides open. He stares at you as you attempt to sneak by in your disguise, and his face is once again stoic. 

You stare back, the hood of your cloak falling and you realize your error. As you start to back away, Vader is already standing and walking to you and in a heartbeat, he pulls you towards him and holds you in his arms, refusing to let you go. 

“I will never love you.” You whisper helplessly, all of your attempts to get out of his grip failing. Vader lets out a laugh, but only for a brief moment. He keeps you close to him, and seems to draw confidence from being by your side. He holds you in his arms, his face inches from yours.

“Oh, but you will. You will. In time, Salomé, you will love me. And when you do, everything else will become so much easier. I will protect you. I will always be by your side.” Vader whispers to you, and in his voice is so much confidence and resolve. He pulls you closer to him, just as determined to prove you wrong. And as you stand there, the only two people in the room, you can feel the air slowly grow colder around you, as if the Force is growing stronger with every passing second.

“I will see to it that you won’t have any other option but to love me. And when you do, everything else will fall into place.” He whispers, his voice filled with a confidence that you are starting to find yourself slowly but surely starting to believe.

“Love should be given freely. That wouldn't be love” You whisper, your heart racing from the stress of the situation, you try to push at his chest and he lets you this time. He looks down at you and holds your arm to keep you in place

A small hint of annoyance creeps into his voice now, just a tiny little crack in the mask of stoicism holding everything together. “Oh, no, it is absolutely love.” You’ve never heard him sound this stern before, as if he’s somehow insulted by what you’ve just said. “You’ll see. You won’t believe what I am capable of, but I can and I will make you love me. I will find a way. You will love and adore me by your own doing, of that I can assure you.”

Your mind drifts away to Gracies for a moment and you realize your mistake when Vader smirks down at you. Slowly, he dips his head down to you and whispers into your ear. “Go on, Abbie, tell me. Tell me who he is. Tell me who you love more than your own husband.” The Force around them seems to be crackling now.

“If I tell you, you’ll kill him.” You whisper in horror and this does not seem to faze him in the slightest. Instead, he only grows more determined, more resolved to do what he has set his mind to.

“Oh no, Salomé. This is a necessary sacrifice. I need to know.” Vader leans in even closer, his voice even quieter, as if only you and him can hear each other, as if the world is holding its breath. “So go on, Abbie. Tell me.” He whispers, a strange mixture of anticipation, confidence, and fear in this voice. He laughs slightly, and he grabs your chin and forces your head to look up at him.

You stay silent, hoping it will help. You carefully back away to try and run until you hit a wall and Vader moves with you, his hands caging you in. You can hear his breath on your ear and you screw your eyes shut. “Oh, you can’t run from me this time. I’ve got you.”

“Salomé. Tell me. Tell me, I need to know.” His voice sounds more pleading now, that hint of fear creeping back into it. He stares at you, the Force around you still crackling with power. And then, he leans in even closer, until you are practically touching noses.

“Tell. Me. Now. Y/N.” He whispers to you, the words sounding so much softer, so much more vulnerable than they usually do. Your eyes open as you hear your name for the first time in months. You hold his gaze as one of his gloved hands trail down your arm, stopping at your metal bracelet.

“Y-you called me by my name.” You whisper and Vader nods before he slips off your bracelet and takes it in his hands. As soon as he does, you try to take it back and he uses the force to press you to the wall. He knows, you think to yourself, he knows and I just confirmed it.

“This bracelet? This bracelet is the key. The key to it all.” His eyes meet yours, you know he’s right. He leans in so close again, until you feel his lips on your cheek, and you feel that same strange mixture of emotions in his eyes again. You try to struggle but you cant and watch on helplessly.

“I’m sorry, Abbie. I have to. For your own good.” He whispers, his voice once again filled with that soft, pleading, and vulnerable sound. “And besides, we both know I’m not a patient man. I will not wait for you to change your mind. I will not be denied.” His voice starts to shake a little a little as he fights to keep it down.

“If you hurt them, I will never love you.” You whisper angrily. He stares at you for a moment, before finally cracking into a faint smile. He lets out a small chuckle, and leans in even closer to you, until you are almost touching. His smile grows wider, a mix of confidence, determination, and excitement in it.

“Oh, but I think you will. I will find a way. I will find a way to make you love me, and I won’t stop until I do. You’ll see.” He whispers to you. There’s just the faintest hint of coldness in his voice. 

He walks up to you, until he is practically touching you, and his face is inches from yours. You try not to look away, not to show that you’re scared. You want to remain defiant, to not let this monster see any sign of weakness. And yet, it’s not working. All that he can see now is your fear, and it seems to delight him.

He stares at you for a long moment. The moment stretches on, and you feel the Force building around you like a pressure cooker about to explode. And then, he does something that catches you completely off guard: he kisses you, a sudden, angry, passionate kiss, that fills you with rage, rage that you feel building inside you, and suddenly you feel like you could blow up the whole room. He breaks the kiss, and for a moment seems surprised at himself too, before that coldness comes back into his gaze, and he speaks, his voice still ice cold.

You look away, a tear rolling down your face and messing creating a streak of your makeup. There is a weird conflict in your heart, to trust Vader’s love for you or to hope to return to Gracies. Until now, you felt trapped but you never felt so conflicted. He was your husband, and you were his wife, you never even gave him a chance. 

His coldness turns soft for a moment as he leans in again and softly pushes your hair down your face, so that it covers your makeup and hides the tear. In a move that surprises you again, he brushes a soft, gentle kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.” His voice sounds so soft and kind, only you know it isn’t like him at all. He leans in again, but this time he doesn’t kiss you, and instead whispers so that only you can hear.

“Please forgive me. This, Y/N, is real. I love you.” He whispers, and you feel something in your heart stur. The same wonder you had when you first saw him, and you look at his face. He lowers his head again and kisses your jawline, his eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath. “Please?” He asks, leaning lower to place kisses to your neck and shoulder.

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to focus but his gentle kisses and soft bites stop your ability to think clearly. “Vader.” You whisper softly, your hands sliding up his back and tangling themselves in his hair. He lets out a content sigh as he presses you against the wall with a bit more force, his hands moving from your hips up to your waist as he tilts his head up to kiss you again.

Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and his gloved hands slide your cloak off your shoulders and he pulls back to look at you. His brows furrow as he notices you aren’t wearing one of the gowns he had made for you and are just in a basic dress. “I suppose you really did mean to run away.”

“I did.”

“You did. Have you changed your mind?”

Your face heats up and before you can speak, he kisses you again, his hands undoing the back of your dress and tugging it down impatiently. Once the dress slides down, he lifts you off the ground slightly to kick it away with your bracelet before setting you down again. He kneels down before you, his face in line with your navel and he leans up, one of his large hands palming at one of your breasts while his lips find the other. He shuts his eyes as he gives your nipple messy open mouth kisses and you let out a moan, letting your head fall back against he hallway’s wall. 

“Do you forgive me?” He mumbles against your breast, placing light kisses between soft nips. Before you can answer, he moves to your other breast and repeats his previous ministrations. You let out soft moans and your hands were tugging at his hair, making him groan against you. You were cautious not to be too loud, not wanting to draw attention from any clones. “I need you to forgive me. I love you.” He whispers, his hands gently massaging their way up from your calves to your thighs. 

“I for-forgive you.” You whisper, you open your eyes to look down at him. Your hands were still tugging at his hair and he looks up to you with an almost dazed look in his eyes. His brows furrow when he notices how quiet you are trying to be before he kisses your stomach softly, he slides off his gloves, reveling one flesh arm and one cybernetic arm. 

“Good, now tell me how good I’m making you feel.” He murmurs, slipping his flesh hand between your legs, a finger tracing your slit and gathering your growing arousal. “Tell me and I’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel really good.” You whisper, your hips bucking slightly searching for more and Vader tisks.

“Louder.” He says, before he dips his head and bites at one of your thighs. Vader’s hand still ghosting over your core and smirks as you drip onto his hand. “I can feel how wet you are, you cant deny it, whore.” He murmurs, dragging his lips against your thigh.

“I need you. I’m aching and I’m empty and I need you.” You say breathlessly, louder than before and as you try to grind down onto his hand, he uses the force to stop you. He smirks and slides a finger into you, watching as your breathing picks up and he sets a steady pace. Suddenly, he stands up again and uses the force to hold you up to the wall at his eye level. 

You let out a gasp as Vader picks up his speed and presses against you, his lips settling on your collarbones, sucking and biting at them as he slides in a second finger. “If you need me so much, then you wont mind if I speed this up. A good whore would take it. And thats all you are, begging for me so desperately.” He murmurs against your chest, resting his head against it as he starts to rut against your leg to match his movements.

You steady your breath, looking at him before you try to take off his cape, or his armor, something to see him better and he kisses you passionately instead, pushing his tongue past your lips and practically swallowing your moans whole. “What do you think you’re doing, little one?” He whispers against the corner of your lips, his eyes shut as he waits.

“Wanted to see you.” You whisper back, and Vader smirks, adding a third finger and keeping up his fast pace, making  you whine. He digs his further a bit more, curling them until he find your spot, and you cry out. 

“No need.” Vader whispers as he licks at your lips before pulling you in for another messy kiss. His fingers keep moving with perfect precision and you unravel on him. Vader pulls back enough to hear your moans and watch you as you pant to catch your breath

“Wanted touch you.”

“I’m touching you, that’s enough. Don’t be greedy.” He whispers in your ear before he slides his fingers out and licks them clean. He lets out a content sigh before he undoes his pants enough to get himself out and alines himself with your hole. You look at him as he focuses on sliding himself in slowly, groaning at the sensation. As he continues to sheath himself in you, you moan out, holding his shoulders tightly but your hands slip against his armor.

Once he’s fully inside, he pulls you in for another kiss, more gentle this time but still with passion. As he stays still, you try to move and he grabs your hips to stop you.

“Shit- Just give me a minute. I forgot how good this feels.” He groans out, biting at your earlobe. His hands slide up, groping at your body to keep you entertained as he collects himself.

“I need you.” You whine out desperately, trying to kiss him before he beats you to it, biting at your lip as he starts to move slowly, groaning against his lips and sighing.

“So fucking tight. Of course you are, you’re fucking tiny.” He groans into your ear and then picks up his speed. You keep trying to hold onto him, but your hands slip on his armor. Your moans and whines blend with his pants and groan as he hunches over you, licking and biting whatever skin he can reach, his hands bruising in the way he grabs at you.

“Say you're mine, little one. Say that you belong to me.” He groans against your neck, his movements rough and sloppy as he fucks into your hole. Vader bites into you harder than before and when you cry out, he kisses the bite. “You’re soaking my pants, you’re moaning like a little whore in my fortress, you’re mine, say it.”

“Y-yours. I’m yours… my lord.” You answer breathlessly, a tear runs down your face from the pain of his bite and he licks your tear away. Vader kisses the corner of your eyes and smiles against you. Your arms settle around his neck, hugging him to you and he leans in against your ear.

“All mine. You’re so precious. I promise, everyone will want to be you. No one will be as loved as you are Y/N. My little one.” He whispers his cybernetic arm rubbing harsh circles on your clit and you moan.

“I can’t.” You whisper, feeling your orgasm building up and you screw your eyes shut. Vader smirks and moves his hand faster as he keeps up his brutal pace.

“Show me, little one. Show me how good you feel.” He whispers, nuzzling against your ear as you finally release, hugging him tighter as your moans filled the hallway and a few thrusts later, Vader finishes in you, his head buried in the crook of your neck. As you both catch your breath, he carefully wraps you into your cloak and tucks his member back in his pants, and kisses your forehead.

“Do you love me now, Y/N.” He whispers, his lips still resting on your forehead.

“I-” You start, your mind a mess from everything that has just happened.

“More than you love Gracies Gras?”

#[ 🍒 ] — my works #[ 💫 ] — anakin #[ 🌑 ] — vader #star wars #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic

[hazardous-waste-containment]

In the years before the first world war, men like Max Maurenbrecher (1874–1930) sought practical ways of reaching the working classes through the establishment of a kind of post-Christian socialist Nietzschean religion. Maurenbrecher, who was both a Protestant pastor and a political activist, left the evangelical church in 1907 and joined the new ‘churches’, ‘free religious communities’ which, while independent of the official socialist apparatus, attempted to wean the workers away from traditional sources of religious inspiration. Nietzsche was the central figure here, Maurenbrecher’s paradigm for a modernist secular religiosity, his Zarathustra the model of god-like self-creation of the world. This Nietzschean religion was conceived as a complement to, not a replacement of, Marx. Until the first world war at least, Maurenbrecher could insist on Marx and Nietzsche’s commonalities: both shared the anti-clericalism of the Enlightenment, rejected Christianity and maintained the idea of a this-worldly redemption. They met in their secular visions of the future. But Maurenbrecher epitomized the political fluidity of the times. During the war, he rejoined the church and thereafter moved from Marx and social democracy to a Deutschnational position. Yet all these changes did not entail a lesser commitment to Nietzschean values. Indeed, the ingredients of this socialist Nietzschean religion and its völkisch counterpart were not all that different. Maurenbrecher always emphasized the heroic, willing and tragic elements of such a religion — elements which were at home on both sides of the political fence.

“Nietzschean Socialism — Left and Right, 1890–1933,” Steven E. Aschheim

#reading #nietzschean socialism #red-brown alliances

[natsync6]

Why did so many communists collaborate with fascists, and still do?

Throughout history, communists have collaborated and praised individual fascists and fascist movements.

The future communist leader palmiro togliatti wrote to his comrade gramsci in moscow that "the industrial classes are rather wary of the new regime, fearing unpredictable developments in the class struggle with fascist syndicates" (harrison, simon, 1996, 'togliatti’s letters to gramsci')

Communists like bombacci and pavolini joined the national fascist party of italy, bombacci toured the factories, one after another, promoting socialization.

One of the founding members of the comintern, henri guilbeaux, commented that mussolini was an "authentic, revolutionary heir to lenin".

In 1922, lenin transmitted the following secret instructions to foreign commissar georgy chicherin: "start a highly circumspect flirtation with italy immediately."

Why would lenin, one of the greatest communists ever, do this?

A senior soviet diplomat named vatslav vorovsky met with mussolini in november 1922, at this meeting, mussolini expressed his confidence in the stability of the bolshevik system.

Why would he invite mussolini and why would il duce praise the soviet system if they were, it's said, so ideologically different?

In november 1922, yuri steklov authored an izvestia article which praised the political pragmatism of mussolini.

Why would he do this?

In 1934, stalin noted publicly that fascism does not preclude the soviet union from having “the best relationship” (наилучшие отношения) with italy, this was in his speech, celebrating the first anniversary of the 'treaty on friendship, non-aggression and neutrality' between mussolini’s italy and stalin’s soviet union.

Why would stalin say this, if he's the one who "defeated" fascism?

A movement known as the european solidarity front for syria unites numerous political groups from across europe to defend bashar al-assad against imperialism and in september 2012, led by ouday ramadan, there was a visit by stefano de simone and giovanni feola, leaders of the fascist movement casapound italia, as well as fernando rossi, an ex-senator from the italian communist party, who sought to close ranks with the fascist movement in italy because of his support for gaddafi and subsequently for assad.

Why would they unite, to defend bashar al-assad's government, if they're said to be so different ideologically?

#varieties of fascism #red brown #red brown alliances #corporatism #economics #omg he's literally me #third positionism #1940 #šiauliai

[minkydinks]

SandWings

It's finally time, people!!!

SandWings have been on the agenda for a while and I'm so happy to finally have them done. Here's as much info as I can give right now.

General

SandWings are medium-sized bipedal dragons that inhabit the desert, badlands, and other transitional biomes of Pyrrhia. They come in a variety of muted desert-y colors, but the most common include: Yellow, brown, red, dusty orange, and some black.

SandWings, unlike most other tribes, are built for running long distances rather than flying. While their wings are still perfectly good for travel, it's far more efficient to travel on foot, since they are the fastest tribe on the ground.

Their wings are smaller in comparison to their body than most other tribes as well, so they largely rely on desert thermals to keep them aloft. In places with minimal air currents, or with excess cold, SandWings have trouble gaining lift.

SandWings have light armoring along the scales of their back, although these armor-plated scales are not quite as tough as you would expect. These armored scales are thicker than the rest as to protect them from the harsh sun; although they do double as a nice additional protector from other SandWings' venomous tails. Otherwise, they're not great for protection.

Their armored appearance bears heavy resemblance to MudWings, and it is believed that MudWings and SandWings are quite closely related; albeit MudWings are much more on the heavyweight-end.

A SandWing's horns can be of any shape and array, although most commonly, SandWing horns protrude forward like bull horns; especially female SandWings, where they're used to vie for the throne. These horns are utilized at high-speed to ram into targets, and to duel with rival SandWings. Being hit by a SandWing horns-first at top-speed is near equivalent to being impaled by a motorcycle on the freeway.

SandWings are also adorned with frills along their head, neck, & chest. Male SandWings have additional frills along their lower jaw & lower torso.

These frills are continuously-growing, meaning that SandWings typically cut, style, & shave them at their discretion. Some SandWings prefer their frills long, like Princess Blister. Other SandWings cut them quite short to keep them out of the way during battles, like Six-Claws. Short frills became standard for SandWings during the War of SandWing Succession, as they became a distraction or a detriment otherwise. It was rare for a SandWing not to have short frills during the 20-year conflict, if they were battlers and not factory-workers.

SandWings are notorious for their potent venom. This venom is created and stored in sacs inside the barb at the tip of their tails.

While adult SandWings are perfectly capable of killing another dragon with a lethal dose, SandWing dragonets are far more deadly. Not strictly because of the venom, but because they lack the control needed to limit how much venom they inject. A sting from a newly-hatched SandWing is more likely to kill you than a sting from an adult, who can decide how much they want their sting to hurt.

Culture

SandWing culture is nothing mysterious; they have some of the most well-known festivals and armaments in the continent.

SandWings, having so much land to themselves, utilize much of it for factories and plants. They are one of the most technologically advanced tribes, with steampunk-esque mechanisms and structures throughout their kingdom.

Their metals of choice include copper, tin, and bronze; much of it mined within the desert itself. However, with the SkyWings' alliance, SandWings on Burn's side of the war have been able to import metals and other materials from the mountains to create stronger weapons & armors. Similarly, Blister & Blaze's forces have been able to do this as well, albeit with fewer materials overall and less armored dragons total.

Weapons and armory aren't the only things SandWings create with their metallurgy though. SandWings, having deep respect for their veterans and a cultural motto that you will always survive to fight, also create advanced prosthetics.

Prosthetic legs & arms are the most common, but you might also catch a SandWing with a prosthetic wing or tail. Some SandWings get horn replacements if their horns break off in battle and become less effective at fighting with.

Prosthetic wings are by far the rarest to find, since they are the most expensive to make & obtain, and don't actually perform quite as well as a normal wing. Most dragons with prosthetic wings use them to show off their worthiness in battle, how they survived and were heavily rewarded for their supreme skill and efforts.

Each prosthetic, weapon, and piece of armor comes branded with several labels: The name of the factory it was made in, the name & seal of the queen/princess it was made under, and its serial number. These labels would allow each rival sister to check their dragons' true alliance. SandWings with the seal of a rival sister would be killed, as it would then be apparent who they went to for their supplies.

After the end of the War of SandWing succession, the seals for Burn, Blister, and Blaze were retired in favor of Queen Thorn's own seal. As a result, armor with the royal SandWing sisters' seals were considered limited collector's items, and have increased dramatically in their value.

Prior to the death of Queen Oasis, these seals were not a generic serial label, but a gift from the Queen, almost like being knighted. To have armor with the Seal of the Queen was considered a great honor, but times have changed.

RGAAAAH I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS If you have any questions or ideas you want me to fill in on, please shoot me an ask or something bc I would love to answer !!

#wof #wings of fire #wof tribe redesign #sandwing #dragon

[autisticlancemcclain]

“The Exoxins are very…” Coran purses his lips, searching for the word. “Particular, let’s say.”

Hunk cocks his head. “In what way?”

“They’re quite fixated on personal appearances. They have been known to refuse alliances in the past when diplomats don’t meet their… aesthetic expectations.”

Before Keith can make a slightly mean joke about keeping Shiro on the castle, then (it’s been too long since he has been humbled), Lance snorts. Without bothering to look up from his doodling, half slumped over his station on the bridge, he says, “Well, we better send Keefers. Only way we’ll get a guaranteed alliance.”

“Okay, asshole, real funn — wait.” Keith blinks. That’s not the insult he thought it was. “Did you just — are you flirting with me?”

Lance flicks brown eyes up to meet his, eyebrows raised, amused smirk on his face. “Have been for a year now, thanks for noticing.”

Keith’s jaw drops. He feels a blush climbing up his neck like he’s a fuckin’ kettle, boiling from the bottom up, because what.

“What.”

“Keith.” The rampant redness on Keith’s face must give Lance pause, because he finally turns his whole attention towards him, straightening up from his seat and facing him head on. “I thought you were just ignoring me. You’re telling me your dumb ass has just been — what, completely oblivious to it?”

“I’m not obvious,” Keith argues, strained. He’s well aware of the snickering behind him and chooses to ignore it. “Usually your flirting is horrible and obnoxious and gets you rightfully punched, so excuse me for not noticing.” He waits a beat, and then tacks on, “Or tied to a tree.”

He’s gratified to see Lance’s smug demeanour crack at the mention of the Nyma incident.

“That was four years ago, dipstick. I was seventeen. It doesn’t take away from the fact that you are so thick headed that you are incapable of taking a hint. Did you think I kept finding reasons to be shirtless around you for fun?”

Keith sputters. He had noticed that Lance was shirtless around him an awful lot, but in his defence he was putting his braincells more towards memorizing a broad back and a glittering belly piercing rather than, like, puzzling out why the fuck Lance wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“I thought you were — hot, or something!”

Lance grins wolfishly. “You think I’m hot?”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Is that what you want to see?”

Keith makes a hoarse screeching noise in the back of his throat. It is echoed behind him, by all of his friends, actually, but for entirely different reasons, and he hates them all and they are all written out of his will.

Lance slowly stands from his seat, soundlessly stalking over to where Keith stands, leaning against a wall. Keith considers braining himself against a hard surface so he does not half to deal with Lance stupid sexy leer and sparkling eyes et cetera.

“‘Cause if it is,” Lance murmurs, placing a hand next to Keith’s head and leaning in close, “all you had to do was ask, baby.”

“I am going to kill you with fire,” Keith croaks.

Lance chuckles. “Sure, caliente.” He kisses Keith’s cheek and saunters back to his chair. Keith considers asking his lions to help him change his bayard into an anvil and chucking it at Lance’s face. It does not help his situation.

“Well,” Coran says awkwardly, after what can only be several minutes of charged silence. “the good news is that if we send you both that alliance is as good as guaranteed.”

#sometimes i let lance be smooth as a treat #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pining keith #whipped keith #smooth lance #pining lance #flirty lance #flustered keith #fluff #humour #my writing #fic fragment

[qqueenofhades]

So it looks like Sinema, having gotten her requisite pound of flesh for her billionaire hedge fund buddies (basically, they agreed to keep the carried-interest tax loophole and replace it with an excise tax on stock buybacks), has finally agreed to support the Inflation Reduction Act, otherwise known as the $740 billion "pretty much Build Back Better but we are calling it something different" bill that Manchin and Schumer came out with. If/when it passes, which could be as soon as this weekend, the Democrats will have achieved -- with a 50-50 Senate with two habitual Manchurian candidates, a four-seat House majority, a rampantly fascist opposing party, a Supreme Court openly bent on destroying democracy and personal liberty, and an active criminal investigation into the previous administration -- at least the following:

The American Rescue Plan, aka the first post-inauguration $1.9 trillion Covid relief package, which was the largest investment in the working class since the New Deal;

The bipartisan infrastructure bill, which is the first major structural and transportation modernization and systemic overhaul for the country since the 1970s;

The first significant gun safety legislation in 30 years and since at least the Clinton administration;

Multiple executive orders now signed on protecting abortion rights and access to reproductive care, including travel out of state if necessary;

A bill in the works to officially codify same-sex marriage and thus protect it from SCOTUS;

Reauthorization and improvement of the Violence Against Women Act, including strong new protections for LGBTQ+ and Native American victims of domestic abuse or sexual assault, including the ability for Native courts to prosecute non-Native offenders for sex crimes for the first time in history;

Finally (FINALLY) making lynching a federal hate crime;

The largest climate legislation ever passed in America (this bill), which also establishes a federal minimum 15% corporate tax rate and lowers healthcare costs, including for essential medications like insulin, by, like, a lot;

Passage of the PACT Act, aka expanding healthcare for disabled veterans exposed to burn pits, also the biggest expansion in this field for a generation despite Republicans briefly killing it in an outburst of pettiness;

Consistent big packages of support for Ukraine, rebuilding of foreign alliances, huge bipartisan support for including Sweden and Finland in NATO (hahahaha fuck you Josh Hawley);

The CHIPS act, which creates tech and manufacturing jobs in America and was made even sweeter by how thoroughly they fucked over McTurtle to do it (since oh boy does he deserve a taste of his own medicine);

Ketanji Brown Jackson, the first Black woman on SCOTUS, and not an awful white supremacist stand-in like Clarence Thomas, but a genuinely progressive and thoughtful jurist;

Cancellation of almost $6 billion in student loans for the poorest and most defrauded borrowers, such as those who attended scam for-profit "colleges";

And so on and so forth!!!

So like. Please tell me more about how the Democrats are incompetent, their leadership is bad, they are in Disarray TM, you are a terrible person if you support Biden or give them any credit at all, and you're just not excited to vote because they haven't done anything. Like yes! There is a lot more to do! Despite them suddenly deciding to play ball on this particular occasion, Manchin and Sinema still need to be made irrelevant as soon as possible! But as I said, this is happening with the thinnest of imaginable Congressional control, as the other party is literally trying to destroy democracy in real time before our faces. That is not irrelevant.

Also: ruby-red Kansas curb-stomped an attempt to outlaw abortion rights, and approximately 77% of the entire country supports this current bill. The generic Congressional ballots have all shown major movement toward Democrats, and frankly, I have a feeling that we have only just started to see the full impact of post-Roe fallout. So if you get off your asses, quit whining, and put the work in, we could actually win the midterms and then do EVEN MORE!

So yeah. Uh. Food for thought.

#hilary for ts #politics for ts #'but biden didn't give me a pony!!!' #'sTudEnT lOaNs!!!' #oh like the ones you have not paid a single penny on since he took office #the legislative agenda enacted thus far represents progress in every single left wing issue #and in utterly terrible circumstances #so yeah if you are still saying this #please stfu forever

[sailorgoon13]

Lorenzo Berkshire

Basics:

Full Name: Lorenzo Berkshire

Nickname: Enzo

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 10 June, 1980

Heritage: English, Portuguese

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Mahogany, Dragon Heartstring, 11 1/2", Stiff

Appearance:

Hair Color: Chestnut brown

Eye Color: Brown

Skin Tone: Olive undertones

Height: 5'11"

Body Type: Lean and muscular, with defined muscles in his arms, legs, and abdomen.

Style: Sophistication, elegance, and a hint of edgy flair. Favors fitted pants paired with tailored button-down shirts. For formal events, he gravitates toward sleek suits in rich fabrics like velvet or silk, often in deep, bold colors that command attention. Loves his accessories like a bold watch or thin gold chain necklaces.

Features: Jawline, Intense gaze, Well Groomed appearance, Confidence, Style

Personality:

Traits: Funny, Charming, Competitive, Loyal, Complex

Likes: Fashion, Socializing, Intellectual Challenges

Dislikes: Incompetence, Losing, Close mindedness, Disrespect

Hobbies: Quidditch, Dueling, Drawing

Fears: Failure, Mediocrity, Rejection

Family and Friends:

Father: Mr. Berkshire

A shrewd businessman who oversees the family's investments and enterprises.

Values hard work, ambition, and determination

A dynamic and adventurous wizard

Mother: Mrs. Berkshire

Comes from an old English wizarding family known for their wealth and influence.

A socialite who is actively involved in wizarding society

Down-to-earth and compassionate. Values kindness, integrity, and loyalty

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Special Abilities: Exceptional flyer

Boggart: His friends turning to the Darker side

Patronus: Falcon

Polyjuice: Rich golden hues. Would smell like expensive cologne and freshly-cut citrus. The taste would start with a sweetness like ripe figs or dates, followed by a warm, spicy kick of mulled wine or aged oak. The after taste would be like sipping fine brandy.

Amortentia: Cologne, Subtle notes of wet grass from the Quidditch pitch, red wine

Backstory:

Lorenzo Berkshire was born into a world of wealth, privilege, and magic. His parents were prominent figures in the wizarding community, known for their influence, intellect, and refined taste. From a young age, Lorenzo was immersed in a world of luxury and sophistication, surrounded by the finest things money could buy.

Growing up, Lorenzo was groomed for success from the moment he could walk. His parents instilled in him the values of ambition, determination, and excellence, encouraging him to pursue his dreams with unwavering confidence and tenacity.

As he entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Enzo quickly established himself as a formidable presence among his peers. He excelled academically, earning top marks in his classes, while also demonstrating exceptional skill and agility on the Quidditch pitch as a Seeker for the Slytherin team.

Outside of academics and Quidditch, Lorenzo's magnetic charm and charismatic personality made him a natural leader among his classmates. He effortlessly navigated the complexities of social dynamics, forging alliances and friendships with ease, while also earning the respect and admiration of those around him.

He also had a penchant for romance, enjoying the thrill of courtship and showering his romantic interests with attention and affection. He loved taking girls out on extravagant dates, wooing them with grand gestures and heartfelt compliments. However, despite his best intentions, his relationships often fizzled out quickly, leaving him feeling disillusioned and disheartened.

Academics:

Best Subject: Charms

Favorite Subject: DADA

Favorite Professor: Snape

Worst Subject: Arithmancy

Least Favorite Subject: Transfiguration

Least Favorite Professor: Trelawny

Student Life:

Always eager to learn and expand his magical knowledge.

Quidditch is not just a sport for Enzo; it's a passion and a way of life, and he pours his heart and soul into every match

A social butterfly

Well-liked and respected by his peers, known for his magnetic charm, quick wit, and kindness

The nicest asshole you'd ever meet

Grapples with his own insecurities and fears like any teenager

#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses #hogwarts oc #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogwarts #wizarding world #slytherin boy aesthetics #slytherin boys headcanons #headcanon #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire headcanons #enzo aesthetic

[midnightexpressproductions]

Demo (TBA)

Content warnings (This IF has situations and themes that might be distressing to others): mentions of death, depictions of bodily harm, body horror, gore, anxiety/panic attacks, stressful scenes, claustrophobia, violence, car crashes, amaxophobia, astraphobia, use of weapons (guns, knives, etc.), explicit language, and sexual content though this is optional.

Dark smoke curls all around you, the black ash clogging up your nose and choking your throat. The sound of sirens is muffled in your ears. The base of your skull feels like it's split in two, a sharp pain blooming on the back of your head. Your eyesight is blurry but you can just make out the body writhing around on the ground.

You're hurt and blood seeps out of your wounds. You should be dead. You shouldn't be able to move, but here you are struggling to breathe. The acrid air in your lungs burns. Your vision tinges red. You can't help but watch as the body across the street from you sits up, rotten eyes fixed on your own.

It's jaw unhinges as it lets out an unearthly scream. It's hungry– no not hungry, ravenous– filthy drool dripping down it's chin. In a flash it descends upon you.

Starving.

Yearning for something to eat.

Desperate.

Yearning for food.

Famished.

Yearning to tear your flesh apart.

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

In your senior year of high school, you remain the sole survivor of a brutal car crash that kills your father. Grief stricken, your mother decides that it's time for a fresh start. You soon find yourself shipped away to the other side of the country in bustling New York City; a completely different world from your previous rural Louisiana town.

A fish out of water, you're content with staying in the comfort of your own bedroom, living out your life in complete solitude. However, fate has other plans and after four years of isolation, you are forced to leave your room and venture into the outside world.

You just had to pick the day when everything goes to shit, didn't you?

The dead have begun to rise, violent and angry and desperately ravenous for human flesh. Finding yourself separated from your mom, you team up with an unlikely group of survivors as you begin your journey across a ruined New York in hopes of safe haven.

Who knows what might happen when the dead wake?

Play as male, female or non binary; you have the chance to set your own pronouns.

Play as straight, gay, lesbian, bi/pansexual, demi/asexual or aromantic.

Customize your MC's personality and appearance.

Choose from five RO's (plus a sixth RO who you'll meet at the end of the game) to romance or befriend. Or betray.

Build up your stats.

Make alliances or enemies with rival gangs.

Steal a cop car.

Adopt some dogs.

Your choices matter. You and other characters from the main cast can die.

Javier Delgado | he/him | 23 | ISTJ-T | Puerto Rican American

Javier has short, dark brown hair that curls just slightly around the edges. His down turned eyes are light brown and speckled with green. His golden tawny skin is lightly smattered with freckles across his cheeks. Javier is 5'10" and he has a thin, lanky build which makes him seem much taller than he really is. A pair of plastic-rimmed, light green glasses sit on his hooked nose. He says that they're just for reading but in truth, his eyesight just really sucks. His thick eyebrows are almost constantly furrowed, causing people to think that he’s always upset. Javier favors more muted, earthy toned colors in what he wears. He's not particularly fashionable however, wearing whatever is clean and comfortable.

Carmen Bautista | she/her | 23 | ESFJ-A | Filipina/Brazilian American

Carmen has long, wavy hair that stops just below her shoulder blades. Her hair is dark brown turning into a blonde ombre the further down it goes. She normally keeps it pulled back into a low bun or a French braid. Her wide eyes are almond shaped and dark brown. Carmen’s olive skin is completely flawless. Her full lips seem to be set in a perpetual smile, showing off the deep set dimples on her cheeks. She is 5'9" and has a plump, hourglass figure. She can normally be found wearing jewelry. However, Carmen doesn't wear rings, saying that she prefers to keep her hands free of any obstructions. She does have her nails painted a bubblegum pink though. Carmen favors pastel colors and soft clothing that she can easily move around in.

Max Friedman | she/they | 22 | ISTP-A | Jewish American

Max has wildly curly, dark copper hair that reaches just below their ears which is choppy since they cut it themself. Their eyes are a pale stormy gray and droopy, giving them a sleepy appearance. However, paired with her thin lips that seem to be constantly set into a scowl, it only highlights Max's less than friendly demeanor. Max has pale skin with warm undertones. She's covered from head to toe in freckles. They have a small cut on the right side of their upper lip. Their nose is slightly crooked, having broken it from a skateboarding accident. She's the shortest out of the group (not including Gwen), standing at 5'2" and she has a lithe build though the baggy clothes she wears make it seem that Max is skinnier than she really is. They carry around a skateboard wherever they go. 

Eun-Woo Park | he/him | 20 | ESTP-T | South Korean

Eun-Woo has short, pencil-straight black hair that's been styled into an undercut, his bangs left longer than the rest. Thick eyelashes rim his monolid eyes. The irises are a brown so dark that they're almost black. Eun-Woo's milk white skin is spotted with moles, the most notable being the two that sit underneath his left eye. His hands are covered with old calluses and jagged scars mar his knuckles. Eun-Woo stands at 5'7" and has a sinewy, toned build. His ears are double pierced and he has a helix piercing on his right ear. Eun-Woo's nails are painted black. He likes wearing black clothing however, he always wears a red SSG Landers cap along with a NY Yankees letterman jacket.

Derek Campbell | he/they | 24 | ISFP-A | African American/Caucasian

Derek has dark brown, shoulder length dreads. The ends are dyed a light honey brown though he's constantly changing the color. He normally keeps his dreads tied back in a loose ponytail or bun. Their full lips seem to always be set in a sweet smile. Their dark brown eyes are round and wide set, emphasizing their friendly demeanor. Light stubble softens their sharp jaw. Derek has light brown skin, having two scars on his face: one that runs down the corner of his left eyebrow and the other running across the bridge of his nose. He's the tallest of the whole group, standing at 6'5" and his chubby, thick-set build seems imposing at first. They're really just a big marshmallow though. Derek seems to favor more athletic wear, though they'll wear whatever feels comfortable to them. They like bright colors, especially pink and yellow.

Elijah/Elizabeth Watts | he/him or she/her | 26 | ENTJ-A | African American

Eli has dark umber skin with cool undertones. Jagged, old scars crisscross all over their body. They have a full sleeve tattoo of a snake surrounded by lotus flowers on their left arm. F!Eli has long, tightly coiled black hair which she normally keeps tied back into a low ponytail or a braided bun. M!Eli has short, tightly coiled black hair that's cut into a fade, his coils either left free or tied back into cornrows. Even if they're not upset, Eli's eyes seem to be constantly narrowed, the warm honey brown irises standing out against their dark skin. Their full lips hide a gap-toothed smile. Both M!Eli and F!Eli stand at 6'0". They have a toned, muscular build. They wear no makeup or jewelry, other than the dog tags that they keep hidden underneath their clothes.

Gwen Nguyen | she/her | 10 | Vietnamese American

Gwen has warm toned, honey skin and wide, black eyes. Her chubby cheeks are dusted red, only further highlighting her innocent appearance. However, the sneaky rude gestures and hidden eye rolls show that she's much more cheeky than she looks. Gwen likes to wear anything soft and pastel colored. She always has her favorite pink bear plushie with her. Gwen is also deaf, so she wears a pair of sparkly hearing aids. Other than using sign language, she also communicates with a small whiteboard that she keeps tucked away in a pastel yellow backpack.

Pa and Ma Hazel:

Pa is a 10 year old German shepherd and Ma Hazel is an 11 year old cocker spaniel. Pa is short coated and his fur is a dark sable color with his underside being a honey brown. His muzzle is also lightly streaked through with gray. Ma Hazel is medium coated and her fur is a brown roan. Her muzzle is also slightly graying and her nose is spotted. In lieu of collars, Pa wears a forest green bandana around his neck. Ma Hazel doesn't wear a collar at all.

#if wip #if game #interactive fiction #when the dead wake #upcoming if