#A message to the Soldier (speech)

[starsandsuch]

ATMAKARAKA THROUGH THE HOUSES: how does your soul’s purpose manifest in this lifetime? 💡🦋

Your Atmakaraka is the planet in your Vedic Astrology chart with the highest degree. This planet represents your soul’s purpose in the lifetime.

Your Atmakaraka is called your soul planet or your AK planet. It is the significator of your soul.

The house your Soul Planet is in will paint a picture to how exactly your souls purpose will manifest in this lifetime.

Read my original post on identifying your soul planet: here

Atmakaraka in the 1H:

Your souls purpose is about self development. You’re meant to cultivate your own identity in this lifetime. Your major life lessons relate to being authentic and following your own journey. To develop strong boundaries between who you are vs what your expected to be. You’re meant to do things uniquely in a way that suits you and you only. Disregard the path society sets out for you, and create your own. You’re destined for notoriety and recognition.

Atmakaraka in the 2H:

Your soul’s purpose is about creating stability and security for yourself. Your meant to establish yourself in the material world, and be self-sufficient financially. You’re life’s journey is about sustenance. Sustaining yourself, your name, your possessions, your resources and your money. It’s all about creating and maintaining a proper foundation for yourself. You’re meant to use your voice as a method for fulfilling your purpose. Developing your speech to convey a message is apart of what your soul wants to do.

Atmakaraka in the 3H:

Your soul’s purpose is about communication. How do you express yourself? What mediums help you get your message across most authentically? You are destined to bring a specific message to the world that can only be channeled through you. Your destiny has a lot to do with speech, messages, media and conversation. You are meant to exercise a sense of courage in this life and do things fearlessly. Fearlessly communicating your authentic thoughts to the world. Saying what’s on your heart. Through music, writing, poetry, public speaking and the like.

Atmakaraka in the 4H

Your soul’s journey is about developing your inner happiness. Your meant to do what brings you emotional fulfillment. What makes you feel safe, secure, emotionally aligned? That is what your soul seeks to experience in this lifetime. Alignment with family and ancestors is a key life theme for you. To experience the emotional bond with people you call your family. You’re meant to get in touch with your roots, and align with the foundation of who you are. You’re soul seeks a sense of rootedness to the past in order to cultivate your future. The connection you have with your mother is an important part of your journey.

Atmakaraka in the 5H:

Your destined to express yourself creatively in this lifetime. You’re meant to develop and display your creative talents to the world. Your creative contributions are important, unique, and only can be expressed by you. Your life purpose is connected to performance, arts and entertainment. Through these mediums you are able to express your true soul purpose. Parenthood is a sacred journey for you, where you’re meant to experience preganacy/ raising a child. Your destiny is connected to children in general. Teaching them, guiding them, being involved in their development.

Atmakaraka in the 6H:

Your soul seeks to be of service in this lifetime. You are meant to be a healer. Healing yourself, healing those who need your help. Your power lies in being of service to humanity through your healing abilities. You are destined to overcome adversities and cultivate a sense of resilience. You’ll experience challenges, yet this transforms you into the ultimate problem-solver. You develop impenetrable strength: mentally, spiritually and psychologically. You incarnated because society needs your help, God sending one of his strongest soldiers to help heal the world. You have a special connection with animals in this lifetime. They are your allies in this journey.

Atmakaraka in the 7H

Your soul seeks to connect with others through partnership. Your soul’s purpose involves being in relationships that are fulfilling on a emotional, psychological and physical level. It is in your destiny to cultivate your social presence in the world, being a person of charm, decorum and worldliness. Your major life themes involve how you appeal to people and how you use your social connections to elevate your life. Your soul seeks to be impactful in society, through the social influence you have.

Atmakaraka in the 8H:

Your soul’s purpose is destined towards transformation. You experience blockages, challenges and adversities but come out stronger every time. You’re meant to turn your pain into power, to be an alchemist. Your soul came here to experience transformation. Spiritually, mentally, physically and psychologically. You’ll be faced with many unexpected crises yet your powerful intuition will always guide you. The occult knowledge you have will be key in your journey. You’re destined to experience the power that comes from transforming yourself and your life. You’re destined to leave a powerful legacy.

Atmakaraka in the 9H:

You’re destined to be a guide to others. Your soul came here with the purpose of spiritual evolution. Over the course of your life you’ll have many awakenings, epiphanies and realizations. This leads you to amassing abundant wisdom. You’re destined to teach the wisdom you have to others, guiding them on their paths. Your destiny is a worldly one, where it impacts people on a global scale. Your soul seeks the truth, spiritual knowledge, and the ability to live a life free of falsities and illusions.

Atmakaraka in the 10H:

You are destined to achieve your long term goals and be established in the material world. Your soul seeks achievement in the material world. To be successful , have recognition and status is what you’re here to achieve. Your destined to leave your mark on the world in an authentic way, your here to build and leave your legacy through your career and reputation. You are destined for fame or high status.

Atmakaraka in the 11H:

You are destined to fulfill your wishes and desires. Your life has a lot to do with manifesting. Manifesting your long term goals and unique visions. You are a visionary. You’re meant to focus on your gains in life and how you can achieve success in the material realm. Along the way you are likely to be popular and influential. Your purpose leads you to elevating humanity through your influence, there’s a deeper theme here of you making a difference in the world. Your goals and desires help the collective at large. Through your influence you help shape the trajectory of society.

Atmakaraka in the 12H:

Your destiny is about spiritual liberation. Your soul seeks truth and enlightenment. More importantly it seeks freedom from the cycles of reincarnation. You’re likely here on earth now as one of your final lifetimes. You are an old soul. This means your life is about letting go and not having attachments in the material realm that keep you trapped here. That’s why you’re on a discovery of truth. Dispelling illusions and aligning with your true spiritual journey. Your road is lonely, isolating and harrowing at times, but it’s all for the purpose of aligning you with your spiritual destiny. You are a healer and wise person. Your purpose involves being of service to others. You find it hard to connect to the material world/ mainstream society bc your destined for something greater. You’re meant to fulfill your spiritual goals more than material. 12th house is the “exit”. The spiritual, mystical exit where your soul elevates to the next realm after this incarnation, and you break free from being recycled back to earth.

Related posts:

Your soul planet and your mission in this lifetime

Your 1st house ruler and your unique life path

[eistro-phobia]

No actually I'm not done speaking my truth

Warning: suicidal ideations

I will never forgive Treyarch for doing so little between Mason and Bell; just imagine the possibilities,

What about Mason, who, from the minute he saw Bell, sensed something off? The ticks, the empty eyes, the unsureness in their words, the empty-headed tailing of Adler—he's seen fucked up soldiers in his time, but this one felt too close to home. But he dismissed it; "Another one of Adler's lapdogs," he concluded. Wasn't his business—he came back for just one last job.

What about Mason, who, besides Woods, wasn't told what Bell was? Of course Hudson didn’t tell him; there was no way either of them would agree to something like this, and they were close enough to the operation as it is. He intentionally kept them busy in Kiev and with Perseus' lackeys, hoping they wouldn't have to catch on.

What about Mason, who felt his instincts screaming in his head as he talked to Bell, trying to ignore the same glazed over expression he had on Rebirth Island staring back at him? They wouldn't; Hudson wouldn't, he told himself.

What about Mason, who, stumbling into the safehouse after the shitshow in Cuba, found Bell strapped to a gurney with Adler forcing a syringe halfway down their eye? The scene was nauseatingly familiar, and he didn’t even hear Hudson trying to calm down a furious Woods, red specks of ticking numbers slowly starting to crowd his vision as he heard them scream bloody murder.

What about Mason realizing he should've just listened to his fucking instincts?

What about Mason, who grabbed Adler by the collar and almost punched him in his stupid glasses when he walks out of the office, only to stop when he's coolly informed the nukes were gonna be detonated from Solovetsky? He reluctantly let go, watching Bell slowly get up from the gurney, their chest heavy with the weight of a realization no one should ever have to go through.

What about Mason, who can't take his sights off of Bell as they fight their way through to the AA guns? He tried to ignore the cold sweat he felt watching them run to detonate the last gun with no regard for their own life, Adler urging them on.

What about Mason, who ran to help Woods lift the metal off of Bell, recoiling at the look of surprise on their face, like they didn't expect to be saved? He couldn't even look them in the eye, circling away from them as Adler went on his fucking speech about his "message to Perseus," wanting nothing more than to put a knife between his eyes right then and there and call it collateral.

What about Mason, who couldn't stand the way Adler zeroed in on them when he was done? He was helplessly frozen, watching as the asshole fed more bullshit to their fried brain.

"This is how wars are won, Bell."

What about Bell, who was spared Adler's bullet at the cliff? He held them by the shoulder, not-so-subtly implying that the only reason they were still alive was to continue doing what they were before—hunt down the remnants of Perseus without question or resistance—their life now property of the CIA.

What about Bell, who can't trust anyone in the safehouse anymore, now that they knew everyone was in on it? They felt defenseless—powerless, even—feeling the vicious gaze of everyone burn into their skin, as if this were their justified fate.

What about Bell, who struggled to function day after day? Every night, they woke up screaming from new horrifying memories; the unregulated dosage in the last ditch effort of an interrogation took its toll on them. Adler's voice was now stuck in their head, commanding them even through a routine as rudimentary and personal as putting their clothes on.

What about Bell, who can't bear to look at themselves anymore? Whenever they pick their toothbrush up and flit their weary eyes up to the mirror, they find an unfamiliar reflection of themselves painted in grease stripes, staring back with hollow eyes. They recoil so hard they fling the toothbrush into the dirty sink, panting heavily as they try to hammer into their head that they were never in that sweaty, swampy hellhole.

What about Bell, desperate to do anything to make it all end? To stop hearing that fucking voice, to stop feeling so violated even in their most private of moments, to stop feeling the beady eyed stares of everyone the second they entered the room, to stop living a life that was no longer their own; but the voice always told them to put the gun down. And of course, they obeyed.

What about Bell, who only ever found refuge with Woods and Mason, seeing them routinely fight with Hudson over what happened to them? Apparently they were the only ones that weren't aware of this little endeavor, but what surprised them is seeing them stand up for them despite their sentiments towards Reds.

What about Bell, who didn't feel so unsafe when they sat near the pair of veterans to eat? They didn't say a word to the troubled soul, save for offering water or asking for the spoon lying next to them. Nobody bothered them in those intervals. Not even Adler.

What about Bell finding the toothbrush back in its small holder every morning?

What about Bell, who stared into the empty screen of the television by the board, unable to get up, struggling against phantom restraints? They'd been sitting there for hours—long after everyone had gone to sleep—watching their memory's footage of Vietnam play across the screen. The burning in their eyes prompted them to manually blink, not missing a moment watching the soldiers gruesomely getting butchered in a war they were never part of. They couldn't tear their gaze away: not until a hand on their shoulder shook them back to reality.

"You ain't strapped down, get up."

can you tell ive been playing black ops 1 and 2

more stuff

[kasagia]

Right Hand - Epilogue

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.

"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.

"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?

"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.

"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?

"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.

He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:

"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"

There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.

Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.

Which actually isn't far from the truth now…

"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.

"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.

"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.

"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?

"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"

"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.

"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.

"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.

"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.

You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.

"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.

"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.

"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.

You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.

So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.

"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.

"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."

"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.

"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…

"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.

"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.

He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.

You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.

"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.

However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.

"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.

"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.

He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.

You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.

"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.

You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.

You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...

"Yes."

You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.

"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.

"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.

"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"

"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.

"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."

"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"

"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.

"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.

"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.

He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?

"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.

You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.

"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.

Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.

You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.

"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."

"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.

"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.

As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.

"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"

"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."

"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.

You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.

"You are… how long?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.

"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."

"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.

"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.

"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.

You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?

"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.

You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.

"I… had… visions."

"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."

"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.

"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"

"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.

You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.

"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?

"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.

You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.

"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.

"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.

"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.

"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.

"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.

You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.

"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:

"Feyd."

The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.

You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.

He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.

You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.

You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.

"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."

"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.

"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."

"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.

"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."

"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.

"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.

Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.

You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.

"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."

"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.

"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.

"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."

"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.

"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"

"No. Not at all."

"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.

"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.

"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."

You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.

"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."

"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.

You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.

"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."

"Everything we didn't have."

"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.

"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."

"I'm not my uncle."

"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."

He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.

"We should name the girl Katerina."

"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.

"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.

"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.

"And what do you want to name our son?"

"Feydor."

"Feydor? Why?"

"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.

Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.

"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.

"My son?"

"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.

"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."

"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.

"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.

You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.

"These kids are going to kill us both."

"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.

"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.

A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.

The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.

Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73

[muxshwriting]

we always do...

Theseus Scamander x reader

summary: theseus and his wife may have very conflicting views on war, but they'll never go to bed angry and never leave the other in danger || warnings: fighting, violence || word count: 1567 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader: Can you please write a Thesues Scamander x reader fic from your imagination (my minds not working as of now)

You often disagreed with your husbands job. Not in theory, because being an auror is an honourable and noble career. But in practise, the ministry was throwing him recklessly into a war and not to capture dark wizards. You knew that you couldn't stop Theseus from fighting, the reckless and caring man he is. But you wanted him to stay alive, even if it meant arguing with him about safety and trying to get him to take care of himself before running into danger to help others.

"Why do you have to go and fight?"

"I'm the head of aurors." Theseus said incredulously.

"You don't deserve to fight and die in this war just because you're an auror. You didn't sign up to be a soldier."

He shrugged. "Sometimes that's what the world needs."

You nod, seemingly finished with the disagreement before continuing to speak. "Where's you brother?"

"What?"

"He's sent us a letter," You hold up said letter for Theseus to see. "He's put together a haphazard alliance to try and singlehandedly take down Grindelwald. An alliance he implies you already knew about. Are you and Newt insane, Theseus? Have you been checked?"

Theseus chuckled slightly at your words. "Darling, Newt only told me about his team today. The letter arrived later than expected. I'm going to try and stop him from getting himself killed."

"Then I'm going to stop you from being killed." You declare.

"I'm not going to be killed, Y/N."

"You're throwing yourself into a suicide mission and I can't let you do it alone. Look-"

Theseus pulled you into his arms. "I know. I know." He comforts. "We'll get through this together, right?"

You give him a watery smile. "We always do."

"We always do." He agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap as you start to realise what the future may hold for you and your husband. Slowly, you're realising the harrowing weight of your new quest and the increasing likelihood of an outcome that involves death.

"Have you got something on your mind?" Theseus asks softly.

"Besides the obvious, no." You glance out of the window, unable to look him in the eyes. "I love you Theseus."

He replies in earnest. "I love you too."

★--~-~--★

The crowd shouts as Newt leads you all through the German Ministry of Magic. Theseus' hand has a firm grip on yours, keeping you close to him and trying to keep you safe. You stay by his side as Newt tries to pass on his message to Vogel. The Supreme Mugwump steps up to make his final speech, beginning normal and then starting to take a more sinister turn.

Newcomers begin to slink into the room, a few faces recognisable from Paris. They're Grindelwald's followers, meaning that this tea party in Berlin won't end as calmly as you hoped it would. The three of you follow the newcomers as they weave through the crowd, being watched as you do this and almost taunted by them.

"... insufficient evidence exists to prosecute Gellert Grindelwald for the crimes against the muggle community of which he was accused." The Supreme Mugwump pardons Grindelwald of all his crimes as Theseus approaches his followers, attempting to place them under arrest.

One sneaks up behind you and a wand presses against your temple. Your body freezes in place as you try to see who has you under threat. The shift of your head had the wizard behind you wrapping his arm around your neck to hold you in place.

"Theseus!" Before he could reply, Theseus is hit with a spell he never saw coming and drops to the ground. The crowd began to thin as people didn't want to be involved and swiftly left the room. You begin to struggle against his grip, trying to fight back but an utterance is heard and the world goes black.

When the world comes back into view, the first thing you realise is that you're upside down. Secondly, your hands and ankles are bounded together and chained to the ceiling of the dank cell you find yourself in. Thirdly, you're alone. Theseus is nowhere to be seen but you can hear the chinking of chains to your right.

"Theseus?"

The clinking stopped. "Hello? Y/n, is that you?"

"Theseus!" At least you weren't in this prison alone. "Are you alright?"

"I think so?" The answer came out as a question. "I'm upside down for some reason."

You can't hold back your laugh, imagining your husband strung up by his ankles and swinging in his cell. "Me too. I think the blood is getting to my head."

Theseus sighed. "Yeah. Are you alright though? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm alright." You reply. "Can't wait to get out of here, but alright."

The two of you hang together for many hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the blood rush become too much at times. You're awoken to someone calling Theseus' name and getting closer.

"Rescuing us are you?" Theseus tries to joke.

"That's the general idea!" Newt replies, edging closer. You see he's being followed by a large consortium of crabs, all copying the bizarre way he is walking.

"Is this a strategic move or do you just like to walk like that sometimes Newt?" You ask him.

Newts shrugs slightly. "It's called limbic mimicry, supposed to discourage violent engagement."

"Supposed to?" Theseus asks.

"Theoretically. I've only attempted it once before with inconclusive results." He continues to ramble about his experiment as he now faces Theseus.

A giant tail sprouts from the central darkness to assess the space next to Newt. The three of you freeze in place, Newt dodging the tail. A few levels down, a firefly lamp goes out and the prisoner screams. The tail retracts and a stinger takes it's place, aiming directly for the screaming prisoner and dragging him down into the depths.

In the chaos of the smaller crabs, Newt cut Theseus down and moved on to sever your bonds as well. You dropped to the floor, angling your body so you'd land on your side and shoulder instead of your head.

"Thanks Newt." You sarcastically say, pulling yourself to your feet and moving towards Theseus. Newt was once again focused on the crabs, who were interested in you all again.

"And the plan is?" Theseus asks.

Instead of answering, Newt cupped his hands to his face and blew, letting a whistle-like noise echo throughout the prison.

"Uh Newt? That's not a plan."

"We're gonna need some help." He suddenly struck up his pose to 'discourage violent engagement' and the crabs copied him without hesitation. After the exchange of some heavy looks, you and Theseus copied him and began to the slow ascent to the exit.

Just as you neared the top, Theseus stepped on one of the crabs, crushing it. Before any of you could say a word, the lamp began to flicker in and out and the distinct rumbling of the giant creature began. The tail popped up from the darkness and the trio ran. As you weaved through narrow stone corridors, the creature's tail crashed through walls just behind, hunting for it's prey. It began to shoot poison from it's stinger that was so strong it melted stone.

You and Theseus were separated as you tried to avoid the flying poison and the onslaught of regular crabs which had reappeared. The number of appendages that the creature had seemed to only grow as they appeared in every direction, hunting for you.

As a limb reached toward you, you jump over a different limb and continue to run. Spotting Theseus in the corner of your eye, you make a beeline towards him and almost crash into him as you slowed, Newt joining you. You all took off down yet another hallway as the rocks collapsed behind you, separating the creature from the group. Or so you thought.

Before you had a second to breathe, the creature had wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you and pulling you backwards. Theseus called out your name, grasping your hands in his and trying to keep you close. Newt tries to help but Theseus' grip falters for a moment and you slide closer to the edge.

Out of nowhere, Pickett appears with Newt's wand and you all fall into the pit before apparatting out of that godforsaken place.

Your back slams onto forest floor, limb still wrapped around your waist. The feel of it repulses you as you try to squirm your way out and push it off of you. Theseus pulls it off as it continues to move and wriggles away through the leaves.

Now on your feet, your hands are batting off and dirt and leaves stuck to you, still convinced you were being crushed by the creature. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears and your hands have a slight shake to them. Theseus gently approaches, grasping your hands in his and staring into your soul.

"You're alright. It's over. We're safe."

"We got through it." You mutter, stumbling into his arms.

Theseus melted in your embrace, dropping his head onto your shoulder. "We always do."

"We always do..." You whispered back like a mantra, a prayer that you both would and a promise that you did.

[yumeka-sxf]

According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

[jimin-updates]

Soldiers are thankful for Jimin’s touching words

Jimin’s discharge speech is going viral - this YouTube short has over 1.5 million views!

Thank you to @prodparkjimin on Twitter for pulling some of the heartfelt messages!

💜

[fridaysmind]

IDW Starscream x reader

This got me so interested that I lost sleep and just started writing, falling asleep every 20 minutes, lol

The meeting alone was a message of destiny. First acquaintance, discussions at some boring event didn't just brighten the evening, but allowed a veritable meadow of flowers to bloom in your spark. Peaceful Cybertron was beautiful, it was a pity that few people appreciated what they had.

Then the long war. Deaths, one after another, the smell of about to burst energon from someone's insides, hunger, pain, death again. At what other moment than this should you want to be closer to the one who heals the frame and the spark with mere words, with tugging sounds and a self-assured tone? You didn't hesitate to pick a side. The processor was on maximum, reports, tasks, fixing equipment or repairing the wounded, you learned fast, everything you could learn, just to earn a higher rank, to stand if not on par with Starscream, then at least to be as close to him as possible. But that plan failed so miserably… You were sent away, as if to separate you from him, fate mocked and hated for something.

Without giving up hope, you kept in touch with him from a distance. You wrote to him much more than he did, and more often than not, he would suddenly appear online, reply to one or maybe just two messages with something short, and start complaining. About the Lord, about the tasks, about the soldiers. And you supported him as best you could, not knowing that you were the only one who stayed on his side and told him something positive, like a life preserver thrown so timely.

Then it was finally over. After an agonizingly long time that passed imperceptibly but sucked the last drop out of every Cybertronian, the one you had been waiting and longing for for so long finally stood before you. He was washed and polished, just like you. After millions of years, nothing creaked in your joints, the sky overhead was clear, and Starscream, though slightly changed, was looking over his shoulder with such familiar optics.

For so much time of companionship and support, you were allowed to watch the most important events not from the surface of Cybertron under the new ruler's balcony, and not live, but standing directly behind his back. You've missed him so much that you delight in every movement of his adorable wings, from a full flap, to a barely perceptible twitch. And now he stands there, says his speech, which he has been working on for a long time, makes snide comments, waves goodbye and goes to the exit, passing by and casting a lingering glance at you.

On another workday, you hand over the report into his manipulators, savoring the instant touch of your fingers as he picks up the datapads. He sets them aside and stares at your figure standing in front of him, scrolling from side to side in the expensive chair.

"Not a single remark in your direction my dear, not during the war, nor for your service to me personally, I should suspect you, are you surely a common mortal?" his voice is so sweet you want to lick your lips languidly. You chuckle at his words, and smile at him sincerely, not believing it to be true.

"You shouldn't, I'm just always motivated. It's nice when work is appreciated, you know how unpleasant it feels when it's blatantly not to"

He presses his lips together and nods a few times, dropping a slightly sinking gaze to the surface of his desk, but wipes it off his faceplate and looks at you with the familiar friendliness only you are accustomed to. "You were, are, and I hope will remain my oldest and dearest friend, I need loyal people like you at my side."

And you nod to him too, more than willing to do him a favor. But, oh, how you want to be more than just a loyal friend to him in this time, how you want to put your helmet on his shoulder, take him by the arm and intertwine your fingers, especially in front of everyone. How you want to just nuzzle into his cheek and leave a kiss. And even more than that. Much more. You hide your EM field from Starscream and take a step back, coughing slightly.

"Well, I'll be off, right? So much for rebuilding Cybertron," and you slip out of his office, almost flying out, not noticing at all his outstretched manipulator in your direction in a pathetic attempt to delay.

He abruptly dropped his helmet onto the table with a loud clang, growling out of not knowing what to do. Friend, you're a friend. Odd, what else could he say? 'Hop on my lap, please'? He can't take this pressure, this feeling that if he doesn't act faster, someone will take you, so friendly and open, into their filthy clutches. He doesn't know how to approach you. He's barely even interacted with femmes during his asset. It's worth asking for advice. Primus, from whom? It's all idiots! He jumped up, remembering someone he could have a decent contact with and maybe even get something worthwhile. Dropping his chair from the abruptness of his movements, he quickly close his personal documents and left the office, remembering to lock it.

You're calmly walking down the corridors with another plan in your head and a whole city of ideas and dreams about the future, when you see someone with your side-eye around the corner and turn your attention to the end of the next corridor. Your processor reflexively recognized Starscream's figure instantly, only then did you realize that Windblade was standing next to him. That wasn't the point, it was the way they were standing. Close, too close. He exhales and leans toward her, saying something too quietly for you to make out. Her optics widened in disbelief and surprise as she opened her mouth and looked as if she was embarrassed. Your jaws clenched to a squeak. What could he possibly have said that? He so rarely stood so close to even you, what was she doing so near to him? You stepped out from around the corner completely and shouted a greeting to the far standing mech and femme, causing them to literally recoil from each other. Oh no, you saw the whole thing!

You're in front of them in a couple seconds, looking as shy as if they'd been caught kissing in the pantry.

"What were you discussing?" you smile affably at them both, shifting your gaze from one to the other. They look at each other sharply at your question and Windblade nods her shoulder awkwardly, kneading her hinge and averting her gaze. What was that supposed to mean? Were they flirting?

Starscream instantly went into tactical retreat mode, taking one step back, then another, then silently turning on his heels and adding a step into the unknown. Oh, how rude. This is after all that? Distrust, huh?

You felt as if the spark was about to stop shining from the pain beneath your breastplates. You held yourself back from showing emotion, continuing to look welcoming to at least one onlooker.

"You looked so embarrassed together. If I'm reading this right, I'd have to say that the two of you are very organic." No, you don't think so. And your own words hurt you, but you just want to know more. And femme is throwing up her manipulators and actively waving them around in denial.

"No, no, you've got it completely wrong! We weren't talking about anything like that, never mind…"

"Then what else could you have discussed?"

"We weren't discussing anyone"

Oh no, they weren't gossiping about you behind your own back were they? You force yourself to chuckle sarcastically.

"It's all clear with you lovebirds, how shy." you don't want to hear any more, so with the same quick stride that Starscream had, you walk off in the other direction, leaving Windblade at a loss. What should she have told you? To declare in Starscream's absence that he's in love with you and like a boy doesn't know what to do when he barely trusted her with it? It would have been such a scandal.

She looked sadly in the direction Starscream had gone, then in the direction you were going, and sighed heavily, leaning against the wall and realizing how difficult it was going to be for the two of you.

@skittyhugger because it's your order.

Аnd @alexandraibis because I know damn well you're gonna love it.

[konigsfavgirl]

*cracks knuckles* you asked so i shall like. deliver?

You could write what he’s like when he retires?

Oorrr how does he experience his anxiety?

꒰ Oh myyyy, I was actually thinking about writing something like that — How König handles his social anxiety ꒱

Ordering food: A nightmare. He spends at least five minutes rehearsing his order in his head before approaching the counter. If the employee asks an unexpected question? Oh no. Panic. He either stumbles through an answer or quietly points at the menu. When you're with him, he sometimes nudges you to order for him while standing behind you like a 6’10 human shield.

Phone calls: He will physically pace around the room before making a call, hyping himself up like he's about to defuse a bomb. If you call for him instead? He gives you the softest, most grateful look and probably kisses your forehead.

His first attempt at asking you out: König had been practicing for weeks, but when the moment finally came, he forgot every word he had planned. It ended up being something like: “You. Me. Date? Maybe? If you want? If not, that's fine too. I will just—uh...” Poor thing nearly ran away afterward, convinced he embarrassed himself beyond repair. ꒰ You, of course, thought it was adorable and said yes immediately ꒱

Big Crowds: Overwhelm him. If you're in a crowded place, he instinctively places a protective hand on your back to keep close to you. His posture gets stiff, and he won't speak much unless necessary. If someone tries to push through rudely? His whole body shields you like an impenetrable wall.

Public speaking: Not happening. Even though he's a highly skilled soldier, ask him to give a speech or introduce himself in a group setting, and he completely freezes. If he absolutely must speak, he talks fast and low, avoiding eye contact like it's a tactical maneuver.

Texting over talking: If you send him a voice message? He listens to it three times before replying to make sure he gets everything right. He also rewrites his messages five times before sending them because he doesn’t want to sound weird.

Being around strangers for too long: After social events, König needs quiet time to recharge. He’ll either lie down in bed, scroll through his phone while you cuddle, or just silently exist next to you.

You’re his safe space. Around you, his anxiety lessens. He still has his moments, but when he’s with you, he doesn’t feel the crushing pressure to be “perfect” in social situations. Instead, he can just be your König.

I wrote this based on my social anxiety experience ꒰ low level anxiety ꒱ and it's not so funny or adorable as it seems, at least for the person who is dealing with it — but we can all agree König is such a pookie, he can be mean too ofc

[jedimaesteryoda]

Mon Mothma's speech has become one of the definining moments of Season Two of Andor.

Bail Organa cleverly makes use of Imperial law to allow her to make the speech. He also uses the loyalist Senators' flaunting their loyalty against them when he points out that the law is for emergencies, and they all called it as such.

Fellow Senators, friends, colleagues, allies, adversaries. I stand before you this morning with a heavy heart. I’ve spent my life in this chamber. I came here as a child. And as I look around now, I realize I have almost no memories that pre-date my arrival and few bonds of affection that cleave so tightly. Through these many years, I believe I have served my constituents honorably and upheld our code of conduct. This chamber is a cauldron of opinions and we’ve certainly all had our patience and tempers tested in pursuit of our ideals. Disagree as we might, I am hopeful that those of you who know me will vouch for my credibility in the days to come.

She starts by invoking her personal connection with Senate, having grown up in it back when it was still the Old Republic. There is undoubtedly some nostalgia on her part towards the days of the Old Republic especially when compared to the present situation. She had served in that tradition even after the Old Republic died, holding onto its purported ideals. She mentions the Senate being a "cauldron of ideas" with "tempers tested" and hopes that they will vouch for her. She's already signaling that she knows what she is about to say isn't going to be received well by the Senate.

I stand this morning with a difficult message. I believe we are in crisis.

She starts by agreeing with the loyalists that there is a crisis. The Senators before her had been placing blame on the people of Ghorman and treating the Imperial soldiers who opened fire on protestors as the victims. This is familiar to anyone who's been alive for at least the past two years.

The distance between what is said and what is known to be true has become an abyss. Of all the things at risk, the loss of an objective reality is perhaps the most dangerous. The death of truth is the ultimate victory of evil. When truth leaves us, when we let it slip away, when it is ripped from our hands, we become vulnerable to the appetite of whatever monster screams the loudest. This Chamber’s hold on the truth was finally lost on the Ghorman Plaza. What took place yesterday… what happened yesterday on Ghorman was unprovoked genocide! Yes! Genocide! And that truth has been exiled from this chamber!

The Empire has lied about their role with the mainstream news media following its lead, portraying the people of Ghorman as the instigators. She pulls back the curtain, and calls the Imperial actions on Ghorman for what they are using strong words. She goes further and criticizes her fellow Senators for caping for the Empire, neglecting their duty of serving the people.

It's also notedly after she starts saying that, that the other Senators start screaming at her. No better way to exemplify that the Imperial Senate is a den of monsters.

And the monster screaming the loudest? The monster we’ve helped create? The monster who will come for us all soon enough is Emperor Palpatine!

She finishes it by calling out the Emperor himself. Mon calls him the "monster we helped to create" as it was the Senate approving measures expanding the powers of his office and allowing him to stay in office past the expiration of his term that paved the road to him becoming Emperor. When he crowned himself Emperor, they enthusiastically supported it.

She did a brave thing as she knew full well that after condemning the Emperor himself in the Senate, she would lose everything. Being seen as an act of treason, she more than lost her job, she could no longer return home as she was now a wanted fugitive.

As for the loyalist Senators whom she warned "the monster will come for us all soon enough," what do they get for their loyalty?

They lose their jobs when Emperor Palpatine bans the Senate two years later, stripping them of their powers and handing them over to his Imperial governors and generals. Palpatine only saw the Senate as an inhibition after he crowned himself, and he wanted a system of governing where he picked who was in charge rather than the peoples of the respective worlds, cementing his absolute rule. He did so after the completion of the Death Star, ruling with a gun to the head of the worlds that made up the Empire. Fascism has little use for actual democracy as Hitler showed when he destroyed the Reichstag.

As for the comparisons to other politicians past and present with some even going for Hillary Clinton (poor comparison IMO), the one that makes the most sense is labor rights and women's rights activist Clara Zetkin.

Clara Zetkin was a member of the Communist Party of Germany (KPD) who is credited as being among the women who proposed International Women's Day. Like Mon Mothma, she had opposed the major war during her lifetime of World War I, pushing for a women's anti-war conference and getting arrested several times for her anti-war activities. She was elected to the Reichstag in the Weimar Republic, and being the oldest member of the Reichstag, tradition named her the one to preside over opening it in August 1932. She did so by giving a half-hour speech condemning Hitler and the Nazi Party, and calling upon the masses to form a united front against fascism.

After that speech, she was forced to flee her country in exile when Hitler targeted the KPD. She would die that same year.

Yet, she would get the last laugh when the Nazis were crushed in the Second World War just as the Empire was in the Galactic Civil War.

Standing against fascism always comes with risk and sacrifice. Mon proved her courage when she gave that speech rather than stay quiet and keep her privileges.

[lovezbrownies]

Booty Call. (Yandere!Soldier)

General Masterlist - Gen’s Masterlist

Synopsis: Gen Ludenhart couldn’t help but check out your assets.

PAIRING: Young!Gen Ludenhart x GN!Reader.

CW: Gen Ludenhart. But young and she still hadn’t been traumatized so she’s not that evil. Objectification of you, implied you’re consenting to a romantic relationship. The internet.

The internet exploded this week—and it was all thanks to Line Sergeant Gen Ludenhart.

She had just been promoted, recognized for leading a particularly successful mission the week before. The entire affair was televised live, with over a hundred journalists, military enthusiasts, and a national audience watching. It should’ve been a standard military commendation. Applause, handshakes, maybe a few stern nods of respect.

But no. That wasn’t what everyone ended up talking about.

Because what truly set the internet on fire had nothing to do with the mission. It wasn’t the medals or the speech or the commendation from Chief of Military Sam. No, it was the interaction between Gen and you—Sam’s personal assistant.

There’d always been tension between you and Gen. Subtle, sharp, and private. The kind of tension that hummed beneath the surface, never crossing any lines in public. Gen had been careful, keeping her more… persuasive habits hidden from watchful eyes. After all, seducing the Chief’s assistant wasn’t exactly protocol—not unless you wanted to be court-martialed or worse, fired on the spot.

But that day? She couldn’t help herself.

You had walked in wearing those new pants. And not just pants. No—these were criminal. Tailored, clean-cut, tight, leaving nothing to the imagination. Gen had always appreciated the lower half of your body (quietly, of course), but in that moment, you were doing something to her that could only be described as lethal. The fit, the cut, even the faint outline of your underwear—it was all too much.

She was doomed the moment you walked past.

What neither of you realized was that the cameras were still rolling. The footage was live, unfiltered, and unforgiving. The camera had been fixed on Gen when it captured the moment—her brows lifted ever so slightly, eyes darkening with unmistakable intent. Her mouth curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that said she’d just spotted her favorite kind of trouble. Her gaze dropped, unapologetically, dragging down the line of your back and settling where your pants clung too well. There was no mistaking it—she was eating you up with her eyes, taking in every curve and line like it was something she owned.

The feed panned to her line of sight just as you stepped around the table on the left side of the platform. You were sorting papers for Chief Sam, trying to locate some document they couldn’t seem to find. You’d bent over slightly to fix the mess, completely unaware that you were giving Gen—and the rest of the country—a generous view.

And Gen?

She was staring straight at your ass, as if hypnotized.

The internet caught it all.

Within hours, clips of the moment were circulating on every platform. Posts speculating your “secret romance” filled the timelines. Edits. Slow-mo replays. Dramatic reenactments. Shippers took to the comments with fervor. A few bold souls even wrote fanfiction—some sweet, some less so. The phrase “Soldier checking assistant out like a snack during a military promotion” trended for eight hours.

And you? You were blissfully unaware. Poor thing.

Until the next morning.

You woke up to your phone buzzing so violently it nearly threw itself off your nightstand. The screen lit up with missed calls, message previews, and more group chats than you remembered being in. Somewhere in the chaos, your sister’s name appeared.

You hesitated—because something in your bones told you she was not calling to say good morning.

You answered anyway.

“Are you in a relationship with a soldier?” was how she started. No hello. No grace. Just immediate judgment.

You rubbed your face. “Lori, what?”

“I knew it,” she said. “You lied to me. You said you hated soldiers. You said, and I quote, ‘I would rather eat a stapler than date anyone who’s ever polished a boot.’”

“I did say that,” you muttered.

“And now look at you! Look at you!” she practically screeched. “Bent over like the papers owed you money while that woman—that woman—looked at you like you were dessert after a ten-year deployment.”

Your brain stalled. “…What are you talking about?”

“I’m sending you the video.”

And she did.

You opened the link, expecting something harmless—maybe a weird angle, maybe a photo. What you got was footage. Unedited. HD. The exact moment Gen’s eyes wandered. The smirk. The slow once-over. The not-so-subtle hunger. And then—then—the camera panned, and there you were, completely oblivious and bent just enough to be the exact cause of her moral decline.

You stared.

“…Oh my god.”

There was silence on the line. And then, softly—deadly sweet—your sister said:

“So when’s the wedding?”

[zvaigzdelasas]

A group of Druze militants in Suwayda, southern Syria, has announced the formation of the Suwayda Military Council, a coalition of local armed groups aimed at protecting the region and maintaining security.[...]

The council stated its mission is to safeguard civilians and public property from violence and destruction while strengthening cooperation with other security factions. It also announced plans for regular meetings to assess threats and respond accordingly. As part of its efforts, the council has called on officers and soldiers from civil society to attend a military meeting on February 24 in the Sad Al Ain area between Suwayda and Salkhad.[...]

Commander Tareq Al Shoufi emphasized that the council seeks integration into a newly unified Syrian army. He stressed the importance of secularism, democracy, and decentralization, calling these principles essential for achieving justice and regional stability.[...]

However, the announcement has drawn criticism from some Druze leaders. Hikmat Al Hajeri, Syria’s Druze spiritual leader, rejected the council’s formation, labeling its members separatists and insisting they lack the authority to represent the Druze community or the leadership of the Suwayda Governorate.[...]

Details about the council’s leadership remain scarce, but reports indicate that Tareq al Shoufi is at the helm. [...]

The Bayraq Suleiman Bin Daoud Forces are led by Majed Najem Abu Ras, who has actively promoted recruitment into the Military Council.

Notably, Abu Ras has also shared content expressing support for Israel. In one repost, he shared a Facebook post by Israeli Druze Suleiman Abdul Latif urging young Druze men in Suwayda to join the council, claiming that when the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) enter Syria, they will recruit Druze fighters into their ranks. In another post, Abu Ras commented on Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s remarks about protecting Syria’s Druze, suggesting that his message was directed at Abu Mohammad al Jolani and Hayat Tahrir al Sham.

[AllIsraelNews is Israeli Private Media]

With the IDF still occupying a buffer zone in southern Syria, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu went a step further on Sunday and demanded that the new Syrian government commit to keeping its forces out of southern Syria.

“We demand full demilitarization of southern Syria from the forces of the new regime. Also, we will not tolerate any threat to the Druze community in southern Syria,” Netanyahu said during a speech at the graduation ceremony for new IDF combat officers.

“In Syria, the IDF will remain in the Mount Hermon area and the buffer zone for an indefinite period, to protect our settlements and prevent any threat. We will not allow the forces of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham or the new Syrian army to enter the area south of Damascus,” he vowed.[...]

Katz also mentioned efforts to deepen ties with the Druze population in Syria, which dominates the southern province of Suweida.

“We will strengthen our ties with friendly populations in the area,” Katz added, “with an emphasis on the Druze population, which is a sister population to our Druze brothers, who fight alongside us in the State of Israel. We are committed to allowing them to maintain contact with their relatives and their partners in the glorious history of the Druze community.”

[JerusalemPost is Israeli Private Media]

Hundreds protested the remarks as a prelude to ‘dividing Syria,’ while some welcomed ‘any helping hand for the Druze community.’

[TimesOfIsrael is Israeli Private Media]

Israel has begun staff work on a pilot program that would allow Syrian Druze to work in Israeli towns on the Golan Heights, according to the Kan public broadcaster.

The program was initiated by Golan Druze who asked Israeli security officials and the military to assist their Druze brethren over the border, says Kan.[...]

The initial stage will see dozens of Syrian Druze working in construction and agriculture in Golan Druze towns.[...]

The initial stage will see dozens of Syrian Druze working in construction and agriculture in Golan Druze towns.

Israeli leaders have publicly warned Syria’s government not to harm the Druze in southwestern Syria, and regularly speak with foreign leaders about the importance of protecting them, along with Syria’s Kurds.

24 Feb 25

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Konstantin Toropin and Steve Beynon at Military.com:

It was supposed to be a routine appearance, a visit from the commander in chief to rally the troops, boost morale and celebrate the Army's 250th-birthday week, which culminates with a Washington, D.C., parade slated for Saturday. Instead, what unfolded Tuesday at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, bore little resemblance to the customary visit from a president and defense secretary. There, President Donald Trump unleashed a speech laced with partisan invective, goading jeers from a crowd of soldiers positioned behind his podium -- blurring the long-standing and sacrosanct line between the military and partisan politics.

As Trump viciously attacked his perceived political foes, he whipped up boos from the gathered troops directed at California leaders, including Gov. Gavin Newsom -- amid the president's controversial move to deploy the National Guard and Marines against protesters in Los Angeles -- as well as former President Joe Biden and the press. The soldiers roared with laughter and applauded Trump's diatribe in a shocking and rare public display of troops taking part in naked political partisanship. For this story, Military.com reached out to Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth's office as well as the Army and the 82nd Airborne Division directly with a series of questions that ranged from the optics of the event to social media posts showing the sale of Trump campaign merchandise on the base, to the apparent violation of Pentagon policies on political activity in uniform. Internal 82nd Airborne Division communications reviewed by Military.com reveal a tightly orchestrated effort to curate the optics of Trump's recent visit, including handpicking soldiers for the audience based on political leanings and physical appearance. The troops ultimately selected to be behind Trump and visible to the cameras were almost exclusively male. One unit-level message bluntly said "no fat soldiers." "If soldiers have political views that are in opposition to the current administration and they don't want to be in the audience then they need to speak with their leadership and get swapped out," another note to troops said. Service officials declined to comment when asked about the extent to which troops were screened, whether soldiers displaying partisan cheers on television -- a violation of long-standing Pentagon rules -- would be disciplined or if soldiers who objected to participating in the event, citing disagreements with the administration, would be disciplined or admonished in any way. "This has been a bad week for the Army for anyone who cares about us being a neutral institution," one commander at Fort Bragg told Military.com on the condition of anonymity to avoid retaliation. "This was shameful. I don't expect anything to come out of it, but I hope maybe we can learn from it long term." Experts were quick to come out and say that the public silence from military leadership is a missed opportunity to reinforce the military's nonpartisan nature. Meanwhile, the political leadership at the head of the Defense Department was far from apologetic. Adding to the spectacle, a pop-up shop operated by 365 Campaign, a Tulsa, Oklahoma-based retailer that sells pro-Trump and other conservative-coded memorabilia, was set up on-site with campaign-style merchandise on Army property. Soldiers were seen purchasing clothing and tchotchkes, including "Make America Great Again" chain necklaces to faux credit cards labeled "White Privilege Card: Trumps Everything." Permitting the sale of overtly partisan merchandise on an Army base likely runs afoul of numerous Defense Department regulations aimed at preserving the military's long-standing commitment to political neutrality.  [...] Trump is far from the first president to use the troops as a backdrop for a speech that had political notes. But experts say this speech crossed a line and showed the military's ethics can be vulnerable. [...] However, many of those examples were presidents choosing the setting to speak to the troops about military policy and issues that affected them personally, and with the exceptions of polite applause and laughs at presidential jokes, troops have not been especially vocal or reactive to the rhetoric being offered.

Draft Dodger Donald’s appearance at Fort Bragg this week was a partisan rally disguised as supporting the troops to prepare for the 250th birthday of the Army.

See Also:

Daily Kos: Trump’s gross abuse of the military takes an ugly turn—even for him

The Status Kuo (Jay Kuo): Bragg-adocious

[eretzyisrael]

Hezbollah chief Hassan Nasrallah became depressed and was emotionally changed by Israel’s exploding pager attack on his operatives as well as by strikes that decimated the group’s leadership, his family told Lebanese media.

His son said Nasrallah was noticeably no longer the same man, and his daughter revealed that he cried after the beeper attack.

Nasrallah’s son, daughter, and three grandchildren spoke to Al-Manar television for interviews that were broadcast on Friday.

On September 17, 2024, thousands of pagers used by Hezbollah across Lebanon suddenly exploded, killing dozens of operatives and maiming thousands, marking the beginning of Israel’s escalation against the terror group after almost a year of persistent Hezbollah rocket fire that displaced some 60,000 residents of the north, and was met with Israeli airstrikes.

The pagers, laced with explosives, were detonated via an encrypted message that required users to hold the devices with both hands, maximizing the likelihood of the subsequent blast causing debilitating injuries.

Over the next several weeks, Israeli airstrikes pounded Hezbollah, wiping out almost all of its leaders — including Nasrallah himself — and depleting the Iran-backed terror group’s fighting abilities. A ceasefire was eventually reached at the end of November.

Nasrallah’s daughter Zeinab Nasrallah told Al-Manar that she called her mother the day after the beeper explosions to find out how her father had reacted.

“She told me that he cried,” Zeinab Nasrallah said, according to an English translation of her comments on the site.

Son Mohammed Jawad Nasrallah said that his father sank into a serious depression after a July airstrike killed Hezbollah military commander Fuad Shukr in his Beirut apartment, and then the beeper attacks.

Everyone who met him said “he is no longer with us,” Jawad Nasrallah recalled.

In addition, Israel’s relentless bombing campaign, once the conflict escalated into open war, had a profound effect on the Hezbollah leader, and directly impacted the terror group’s morale, Nasrallah said.

He also said that his father was aware of the danger he faced, but apparently had dropped his guard and become less cautious than he had in the past about evading a possible Israeli strike against him.

Ten days after the beeper attack, Israel killed Nasrallah in a massive bombing of his Beirut underground bunker. He had led the terror group for three decades.

Last December, two former Mossad agents spoke to CBS’s 60 Minutes about the beeper operation, with one of them asserting that the veteran Hezbollah leader saw pagers exploding and injuring people who were right next to him in his bunker.

“Nasrallah — when we operated the beeper operation — just next to him in the bunker several people had a beeper receiving the message. And in his own eyes, he saw them collapsing.”

Asked how he knew that, the agent said, “It’s a strong rumor.”

Two days after the attack, Nasrallah gave a speech.

“If you look at his eyes, he was defeated,” the agent said in accented English. “He already lose the war. And his soldier look at him during that speech. And they saw a broken leader.”

[androdetective]

I wish people talked about the recruiters backstory more. His story is one of exploitation and class tensions. He came from poverty and was a young guy who became a pink guard. Who eventually caught Oh Il-nam's interest, which is what got him promoted from soldier to manager to recruiter. He was only able to become successful because a rich guy happened to notice him. That was all entirely based on luck. We know he's rich now from that recruiter morning routine video that was released. He's one of the very rare people who actually went from poverty to riches.

When he was at his lowest when young, he was swept up by bad people who gave him the worst mentalities. But that's what caused him to be able to live a comfortable life. The way he talks, he talks exactly the way Oh Il-nam (and even the front man) talk about the games. How he's just a messenger who delivers messages, how he told himself during his guard years that the poor people are trash with no purpose. It's the simplification of horrible things. The mindset of the games/system got a hold of him. His poverty roots are irrelevant to him. He probably thinks he was different and a hard worker, which is why he made it unlike the other trash.

When he gives that "you're just another piece of trash who made it out of the garbage" speech to Gi-hun and how he only made it because of luck, that entirely applies to him. He had a millionaire VIP to help him, compared to the other hundreds of regular guards. It's unbelievable luck to have a millionaire to help you up the ranks/class. He is a self-hating class traitor. He's those types of people who went from poverty to upper class. And because they managed that, they swear that the system works and will be horribly classist to people below them. They think that lower class people are garbage and need to work harder just like they did. Ignoring the fact that they only managed to because of luck.

We know that outside of his work, he messes with poor people through games/social experiments. When he gave the homeless people the choices between bread and a lottery ticket, everyone but one chose the tickets. Which is already cruel, considering it takes extreme luck to win. It's even worse than a 1/456 chance. When he's finished, he dumps the bread and stomps on them. He then blames all the homeless people for wasting the bread because they chose unlucky tickets. This isn't even a part of his job, but he does this to reaffirm his belief in the system/game. It's a special type of cruelness because the money he spent on the tickets and bread was nothing to him. He could've given each person both of each and continued to be rich. But he doesn't because he views them as wastes who don't deserve it.

When holding Kim and Choi Woo-seok hostage. He ties them up and bounds them with dog bone gags. Something he probably got from the love hotel on such short notice. There are countless jokes about the gags, but I do think they have meaning. The recruiter is called a dog by Gi-hun. Something that means he's below his masters. He did not like getting told that by Gi-hun. We know the recruiter likes putting others below him. The show choice of specifically dog bones, to me, is another instance of him transferring that powerlessness to those below him. To have a sense of power and control. A reminder that he's made it. He even plays a classical song during the game (and even during russian roulette). With the song named "Time to Say Goodbye", it's one last mocking. Classical songs are seen as very high class. It's the kind of music played in the games. And that's what the recruiter enjoys and strives for.

We know that during his pink soldier days, he ended up shooting his dad. There are two beliefs people come to about him. That he was either a regular dad or a bad one. If he was a regular one, it shows that the trauma of poverty and capitalism can make you turn against loved ones. If he wasn't, it shows that already vulnerable people with no support are more likely to get preyed on by the privileged. The recruiter ends up saying a line I found interesting, "One day, they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence. " This was the most vulnerable we've seen him. This implies he didn't feel he had support until he was given power. A bad kind of power given to him by Oh Il-nam. He was being set up to become a valuable asset, not a person. That line could imply he didn't feel acknowledged not only by nobody before the games, but by even his family. If that's true, then that could further explain his happy attitude when he talked about shooting his dad. If he already sucked, then he was even worse by being desperate enough to play the games. Even all that aside, his feelings about his dad didn't matter. He had a job to do. If he couldn't do his job, he could get killed. It's either his dad dies or he dies. And that's exactly how the system works. He knows it's a dog eat dog world.

He becomes such a strong believer in the system he is willing to die for it. He followed the rules of Russian roulette because if he didn't, he'd go against of the rules of the system he wholeheartedly believes in. The system who got him to greatness. The system wants you to kill and die to uphold it, so that's why he does it.

Before he shoots himself, half his face is confident while the other half is scared. Gong Yoo has said he did that on purpose. Even before death, he was putting on a confident performance. But his fear, from seeing that HIS luck with the system ran out, was enough to crack through. From what we've seen of him, he's almost never genuine. He puts on a customer like service kindness. When we know he hates the people he recruits/interacts with. The most genuine we've seen him was during rock paper scissors and russian roulette. And even then, he's putting on a show trying to freak out the players. He looks down on them, and he wants to be the one in control. He's not allowed to be genuine with those he recruits, nor does he let himself. He's a good employee who does his best for his employers. And that's exactly it, he's another employee who's easily replaceable. After the recruiters' death, we don't see In-ho worry about it. No one cares because there's others like him. As Gi-hun has said, he runs around, barks, and grovels like a dog for his master. The recruiter is no one special, no matter how much he sucks up to those in power. It shows best in his lack of a name. His personhood doesn't matter, what matters is his job.

[mariacallous]

Donald Trump is consistently incoherent these days, but even when he makes sense, he’s unhinged and malicious.

Last week, Trump posted an absolutely deranged Memorial Day message, wishing a “Happy Memorial Day to all, including the scum that spent the last four years trying to destroy our country through warped radical left minds.”

Despite the commander-in-chief seemingly suffering an all-caps mental breakdown, the media reaction was muted. A headline from The Washington Post read, “On Memorial Day, Trump honors fallen soldiers and celebrates political wins.” From CNN: “Trump honors veterans at Arlington National Cemetery after lashing out at political opponents in Memorial Day post.” And The New York Times: “Trump Praises Military, and His Return to Office, in Memorial Day Remarks.”

Over the weekend, Trump turned the insanity up to 11. On Saturday night, he shared a Truth Social post from a conspiracy theory account claiming that Joe Biden was “executed in 2020” and replaced by some sort of robot.

Needless to say, if Joe Biden posted anything close to that nuts, Sean Hannity and Jake Tapper would be roused from bed to anchor special coverage on their networks. But for Trump, this level of compete and utter batshittery is just another Saturday night.

The president spreading bonkers conspiracy theories and unleashing vicious personal attacks against his political opponents is certainly more newsworthy than when he manages to read prepared remarks. But major media also ignored how he often fails to execute that bare minimum task.

Consider Trump’s West Point commencement speech on May 24 — a rambling, garbled mess where he ranted about Al Capone, large yachts, drag queens, and “trophy” wives.

And yet, the New York Times headline for this embarrassment was simply, “Trump Gives Commencement Address at West Point, Stressing a New Era.”

Contrast this sanewashing with the unfounded accusation that the press participated in a “cover-up” of former President Biden’s age-related decline.

The media not only didn’t ignore that Biden was old, they never shut up about it. There was exhaustive coverage when Biden fell off his bike in 2022 or tripped over a sandbag in 2023. Neither of those stories were buried within larger coverage of Biden performing normal presidential duties or even successfully behaving like a functioning adult.

Falling off a bike could signal more serious health issues, but it might just mean the president is no different than people decades younger who suffer mishaps or trip over things. Despite the endless handwringing about Biden Old, a sitting president acting like a cross between a 4Chan thread and Q truly is a major concern — one the mainstream media actively minimizes.

[blackstarlineage]

Sojourner Truth (c. 1797–1883) was a former enslaved woman, abolitionist, women’s rights activist, and powerful orator who dedicated her life to fighting for Black liberation, gender equality, and social justice. Born Isabella Baumfree in Ulster County, New York, she was enslaved for nearly 30 years before escaping to freedom in 1826. After gaining her independence, she became one of the most fearless and outspoken voices of her time, advocating for the abolition of slavery, women’s suffrage, and the rights of the poor.

Unlike many other abolitionists who focused on political and legal arguments, Truth used her personal experiences and spiritual convictions to connect with audiences. Her speeches were marked by a blend of religious passion, personal testimony, and uncompromising demands for justice. In 1843, she changed her name to Sojourner Truth, believing she was divinely called to "travel up and down the land," spreading the message of freedom and equality.

One of her most famous speeches, “Ain’t I a Woman?”, delivered at the Women’s Rights Convention in 1851, challenged both racism and sexism by asserting the strength and resilience of Black women. In it, she rejected the idea that women were too weak for equal rights, using her own life as proof of Black women's strength and contributions to society. While some accounts of this speech were altered to give her a Southern dialect (despite being from New York and speaking Dutch as her first language), her message remained a defining moment in both the abolitionist and feminist movements.

During the Civil War, Truth actively recruited Black soldiers for the Union Army and worked to improve conditions for freedmen. She met with President Abraham Lincoln to advocate for better treatment of formerly enslaved people and later pushed for land grants to help them achieve economic independence—though the government ultimately failed to deliver on these promises.

Truth spent her later years travelling and speaking across the country, fighting for prison reform, property rights for African Americans, and equal rights for all people. Despite being illiterate, she was an influential writer, publishing her autobiography, The Narrative of Sojourner Truth, which helped spread her message even further.

Her legacy as a warrior for justice continues to inspire generations of activists. Sojourner Truth was more than just an abolitionist; she was a visionary who understood that Black liberation, women's rights, and economic justice were all interconnected struggles. She remains a symbol of resilience, truth, and uncompromising advocacy for freedom.