i whip my bear

Tano and Kenobi: The Best Laid Plans

Previously on Tano and Kenobi

Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano and Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi have been assigned to observe Jedi Master Plo Koon as he travels to Raxus on the Outer Rim to facilitate a peace treaty in a civil war between two systems. Tensions are high on both sides and the negotiations promise to be explosive…

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Ahsoka knew something was wrong when she set foot in the airy, circular chamber where the two sides of the conflict, the mother system of Acronae and the daughter colony of Acromino, were arguing. Both groups of diplomats, huddled together around two separate tables, jerked their heads around to stare at the arrival of the Jedi and Raxus Senator Issa Fensani. Obi-Wan peered around Ahsoka, anxious curiosity hovering around him like a light mist. As usual, Master Plo Koon was a still pond, cool and serene as he followed the Senator down through the aisles of desks to greet the delegates.

“Honored guests,” Senator Fensani announced as he came to the center of the floor. “May I present Jedi Master Plo Koon, Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano and her Padawan Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi. They will be assisting us as we work towards a fair and equitable resolution to this unfortunate dispute between your peoples.”

“Welcome, Master Jedi,” the head diplomat, Kida Morastus of the Acronae party said, bowing low. “We are honored by your presence.”

“As are the free people of Acromino,” came the sharp retort from Kraspen Loren, the lead diplomat from the other party. “But I’m afraid you’ve come a long way from Coruscant for nothing, Master Jedi. I don’t see how your presence will soften the hard heart of our former overlords.”

Obi-Wan looked up at Ahsoka, who met his eye and gave him a minute shake of her head.

Now is not the time for questions, Padawan, Ahsoka thought, hoping that the feeling would get across, even if the words didn’t. Their bond hadn’t quite advanced to the level where they could could effectively communicate without words, the way Master Obi-Wan and Anakin had been able to.

Obi-Wan nodded and said nothing.

“‘Overlords’?! ‘Overlords’!” one of the Acronaens sniffed, pointing a finger at the other party involved. “Listen to how they speak of us, Master Jedi! There will be no peace with these… these terrorists!”

The simmering resentment on both sides threatened to ignite into violence and it made the hair on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck stand up. Ahsoka pursed her lips and scanned the crowd, wondering why two groups who claimed to want peace were nearly about to come to blows before any kind of official talks took place. It didn’t make any sense. What had poisoned the peace talks while they were in hyperspace?

Plo Koon held up both hands, stepping directly between the two parties. “Tensions here are clearly high. I suggest we break for the day and return tomorrow after a full night’s rest.”

Ahsoka watched the assembled delegates, nodding in reluctant agreement. The two sides retreated to their little huddles to discuss the Jedi’s suggestion as Plo Koon turned back to the Senator and Ahsoka. “If there were any formal plans for this evening, I think it would be prudent to cancel them, Senator Fensani.”

“I agree, Master Jedi,” the Senator nodded, bowing to Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as he took his leave and headed back towards the exit to cancel whatever plans Raxus had in store for their guests.

“Something isn’t right here,” Ahsoka murmured to Plo Koon, Obi-Wan leaning closer to catch their soft whispers back and forth. “I can’t put my finger on it but… something is going to happen. Something bad.”

“Then we must be mindful of the Force and its warnings as we proceed forward,” Plo Koon replied, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the two sides to come to an agreement. He seemed outwardly calm but Obi-Wan knew something was amiss when he saw the master rest his hand on his belt just a breath away from his lightsaber.

Ahsoka turned to Obi-Wan. “Padawan? Why don’t you go join Senator Fensani? We’ll catch up to you once we’re done.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, to inform his master that he was supposed to stay by her and Master Plo’s side, but something cold and sharp suddenly pierced his gut with fear and foreboding. It was a sensation he had never felt before and he looked up at Ahsoka, his eyes round with fright. “Master… Something is wrong.”

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wonder if there’s anything i can give him to express how i feel haha 

The Cherry Fic

Pairing: Phan

Genre: Smut, horror, gore, a little bit of fluff ??

Warnings: Like everything 

Word Count: 3,667




I awake groggily, I can’t remember anything. Yesterday was all a blur. I know Phil and I had been dating for a year now, it was our anniversary so we decided to have a party. I remember lots of alcohol, weird indie movies and boiled eggs. But now, where am I? I adjust my eyes and look around. It’s bright, blindingly blight but I can make some obscure shadowy figures.I recognize chairs, what looks like an assortment of clothes and various objects on the floor and a TV. It’s my room, well, mine and Phil’s room. I wipe my eyes and get up, I’m in bed. Shritless, and wearing boxers. I take off the bed clothes and stand up. My body feels tense so I bend down and over to stretch.
“You’re up, finally.”
I recognize the voice. How could I not? It’s Phil’s voice. Vibrant and jubilant, lights my heart just hearing a vowel emitted from his mouth.
I turn around, Phil is standing there wearing a plain white tee and some gray sweat pants. His hair’s a little messy but It’s early in the morning. He’s smiling, such a bright smile.
“Phil,” I reply. I run up to him and embrace his nice slender body. I look him in the eyes, instantaneously we kiss. Our breath might smell like alcohol and eggs but it’s still one of the most empowering kisses I’ve ever had.
One year, to think I’ve been with Phil for one year.
“You’re in a good mood,” Phil points out.
I let go and tears of joy flow from eyes, “How could I not be? I love you phil.” I go back for another embrace followed by a sweet kiss. I get lost in him, in his everything. In his supple yet fortified body, in his sweet soft lips, in his gentle embrace, in the light of his own existence. He’s my one my all, my alpha my omega, I can’t describe how I feel. Call me a sexually misunderstood dramaqueen teen but goddammit I love phil. I’d love him as a girl, but I’m glad he’s a guy.
So much time passes, it’s a tongueless kiss. We don’t need our tongues to dance to show our feelings, just the embrace is enough for us. I think to myself, “How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? Eons? This kiss seems laconic yet eternal. Perhaps my homo-erotic fantasies are taking over and this is the greatest feeling in the world, or perhaps I’m being admonished of what to come. But why do I know something bad will happen? What is this apprehensive feeling I have? It festers in my heart, diabolically ripping my feelings apart and smiting my love. No, go away! GO AWAY! Why am I screaming on the inside? Why are all these questions forming? I love Phil so what could be wrong? How long has this kiss been? What’s going on?”
My thoughts are cut off immediately. The kiss fades away and I fall on my back. Blood is on my lips and down my chin but I didn’t feel anything. I look up as my paralyzed body lies in a contorted position. In what looks look like a scene from a horror movie there stands Phil, his piercingly cold eyes, his menacing grin, and blood on his teeth. In his right hand is a syringe– an empty one at that. I feel dizzy.
“Phil,” I struggle to call out to him, but no success. My mind drifts, my body fades. Like the pouring rain I feel gone. I drift off to…to where exactly?…
….
“WAKE UP BITCH!”
A sudden jolt of electricity shoots through my spine as a stinging sensation emits from my chest. I cough up air that I choke on and crane my head forward giving me whiplash.
“AHH!” I scream in pain only for my mouth to be cupped. Phil’s demonic eyes stare me into my soul. He has a vicious smile on his face.
“Scream and I kill you. Nod if you understand?”
I don’t know what’s going on, or why but I instinctively nod. He pushes me back and whips me again across my neck. I bite my lip and curl my toes and fingers as the searing burns fester. I’m chained, my arms and legs are restricted and I’m somewhere in a dark room.
Before I can recover from the previous mark of searing pain the whip cracks again against my right shoulder. My eyes widen and I suppress a scream but in a chained order the whip fluidly cracks itself against my stomach, back, and various appendages.
“OH GOD STOP!” I scream inside but it’s no use. I cry, I cry heavily. I don’t make any noises except for faint grunts of horror but my eyes won’t stop leaking. The tears trickle down my face and tickle me. Not the fun friendly tickle, the irksome tickling that feels uncomfortable. Everything hurts, everything is black and gray as the whip snakes itself painfully upon my body. Phil’s snapped, that’s all I can say, but why? I try to think to last night but abruptly it’s over.
“How does it feel, bitch?” Phil snaps. He accentuates the last word as if to let me know that I’m now his bitch.
I grit my teeth and lie, “It feels good babe,” tears stream down my face faster.
Phil’s lips curl again. He doesn’t smile anymore, instead he horrifically curls his lips as if he’s in a movie made by Tim Burton. He licks the tears off my face slurping them with the utmost obnoxious moans. It’s not kinky licking, either, it’s almost like Phil is slowly eating me like an ice cream. He’s gonna thaw me by licking me all around until I’m nice and moist where then he’ll take a bite and It’ll be over- or at least that’s the feeling.
“Your tears,” Phil grunts between licks, “they’re so delicious.” He moans in pleasure.
I hold my tongue and try to suppress my every urge to scream but it’s futile.
Phil suddenly stops licking me. He unchains me systematically, almost like he’s a robot. I fall to the ground and hit my back. This pain is nowhere near as bad as what I just went through. I get up and am greeted by a fist across my cheek. It’s blindingly fast and unexpected. I slam back into a wall coughing up blood on the way. Before I can collect my bearings Phil charges toward me, swinging his whip passionately against my withered body. The whip travels its way painfully across myself each strike so much more deadly than the last.
“WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME!!!???” Phil demands in between whippings.
I reply in between the whippings, “I.. didn’t… know… you… wanted.. me… to Phil!”
Phil stops. He rests his whip and sighs. I fall down on my knees covered in bruises and blood. I cough up thick red phlegm and hope it’s over. But of course, it isn’t. Phil roughly grabs my hair and drags me against he cold concrete floor. He takes me to a sink and bends my head back in the bowl. I stare up at the faucet knowing what comes next. Burning hot water pours down like a waterfall smothering my face. It seeps into my mouth, down my nostrils, clogging my ears, and sliding underneath my eyeballs. The pain is never ending, never ceasing, it goes on and on burning worse and worse. I try spitting out the water but more comes in. I’m choking, burning and drowning at the same time. I feel my consciousness fade but then it stops.. Abruptly Phil pulls out my head. I take a deep breath that is short lived. Swiftly he dunks my head in a bucket filled with freezing water. At first it feels pleasant the cold water, but then it burns. It freezes over on my face and burns me worse than the hot water. I yell my heart out in the water bubbles quickly travel up to the surface repeatedly popping. Phil pulls me out again and leans in near my wet and burnt face.
“So?” He asks, “Anything to say?”
I spit water in his face.
“WHY?” I yell at myself. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT DAN YOU FUCKING IDIOT! OH GOD PHIL’S GOING TO KILL ME!’
Phil wipes the water off his face and curls his lips again. He throws me against a wall and I slink down. He looms over me and unzips his pants.
“You might like to spit but I’ll make you swallow.” His pants and boxers fall in sync with each other. Before I can take a good look, he forces my head towards his crotch. I feel it, his penis rests inside my mouth. It’s flaccid, but it won’t be for long.
“Bite it Dan!” I yell at myself, but no. I know the consequences. I’m in a much weaker state than Phil so even if I did bite it, he’d catch me after recovering from the pain and then I’m screwed even worse. I decide to go with the flow, It’s not like I’ve never given Phil oral before.
I wrap my tongue around his flaccid penis and snake it down all the way to the base. It’s shaved just like mine allowing this to be a more pleasant experience. I allow my saliva to lubricate it and tickle the base and shaft with the tip of my tongue. I can feel it slowly getting bigger. I retract my tongue and push it up against the tip, allowing the saliva to seep inside his meat. Then I rest my tongue inside the meat of his penis sucking him from the inside out. I slowly and faintly swivel from side to side, in a way jacking him off from the inside of his penis. By now it’s at full length. I go in deeper allowing the penis to tickle the roof of my mouth and press on towards the back. I have no gag reflex so I’m perfectly okay with this. The soft underside of my lips nuzzle against the lower part of his shaft as my tongue curls around it, taking a brief respite only to continue on to snaking it’s way through the meat. I can feel Phil’s penis slowly rustle. He’s starting to cum so I switch gears. I take my right hand and grip his base rubbing it up and down in my mouth while my tongue viciously slithers all over. It leaves its wet marks all over the shaft and tip while my hands roughly rub against the base. His penis lurches, it pumps itself once, then twice, and then on the third time I feel the ejaculation slowly seep down my throat. I swallow, I allow the liquid to travel it’s way down my neck and into my stomach while my tongue cups the residue and lithers its way all over Phil’s dick. It finally stops and pull out slowly allowing a strand of saliva to rest on the tip of Phil’s penis.
I lay back and smile at a job well done. Then look up hoping for a smile on Phil’s face.
His hand quickly covers my face and squeezes against my head. He throws me onto the floor where my chains were and quickly dresses himself. I struggle to my feet allowing myself to regain my conscience but Phil is already there. He grabs my right arm and chains it. I decide not to fight back, what would it accomplish anyway? Phil would just overpower and torture me more. Soon, my entire body is chained, I’ve never felt so scared before but I swallow my fear.
“So Phil,” I swallow, “what’s going on now?” Fear picks apart my insides and spoils my stomach. I feel like throwing up.
He remains silent and grabs his whip.
“NO…” I think. I know what he’s planning but how? I push thought of my mind but it gnaws itself at the back of my head.
He unzips my pants, and rips off my underwear revealing my flaccid penis. It occurs in slow motion. The uncurling of the whip as it slices through the air. My visage of shock as I quickly shut my eyes hoping this is all a dream and the snap. The crack as the whip unleashes its wrath. It slaps me straight on against the base of my penis and manages to slap itself against my testicles. This is beyond pain. This is nothing I’ve ever experienced or imagined could happen to me. My penis burns and my testicles seem to go inside my body and shoot themselves throughout my insides. Metaphors can’t describe the sheer suffering I’m going through. The concentration of 1000 thousand suns all imploding into a black whole that sucks every joyous feeling I’ve ever had only to regurgitate themselves in a supernova of pain course throughout myself. I scream at the top of my lungs trying to express this sheer pain. I grate my vocal chords and end up choking on my own air causing me to cry out. The tears burn themselves on my cheeks as my anaerobic body is dealt with another smash against my genitalia. It tugs on every nerve in my body and explodes every synapse. My arms curl themselves in pain as the veins twist and convult to express my suffering. I hit the wall. It’s done now, I can’t go on. I pass out from the sheer shock of the pain.
….

I wake up laying on a cold white bed. I look up , there’s phil in a doctor’s uniform. A white light utterly blinds me causing my eyes to burn and express the pain with tears. I’m chained down.
“Phil,” I ask, “Why….”
Phil has a solemn expression in his eyes. He seems to mourn what he’s done. It’s so cute and pathetic I almost forgive him. Almost.
“Dan… I love you. I love everything about you. Your smile, your personality, how you taste, how you feel, how you sound.” Tears stream down his cheeks and onto my body. “Dan, I can’t live without you.” At this point he’s heavily sobbing while he expresses his feelings. “It’s been a year and I can’t imagine life without you so… so I can’t let that happen. I’ll never let you go Dan.” His voice becomes grave and he starts to chuckle maniacally. “I’ll keep you here forever hahaha! We’ll be together and nothing you can do can stop me haha! I.. I hahaha… I AHAHAHA I LOVE YOU DAN! I’LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER LEAVE ME DANIEL!” His eyes widen and his pupils dilate, he grins as his body cranes over mine.
It’s not Phil anymore, it’s a monster. A demon. The living spawn of Satan ready to torture my soul for all eternity.
He continues to laugh uncontrollably but I decide to break the madness.
“But Phil… You can’t do this…”
My breath is labored and I struggle to utter these words.
“Why Dan? Explain it to me.” Phil says, chuckling.
“Because Phil.. because…”
“Because why?” He grows more insane by the minute.
“Because…” I know what I’m going to say. It’s not a wise idea. The moment I utter these words the end of my life is nigh. I know I’m going to be a dead man, and I accept that. Despite this insanity I still love Phil. So I must say this no matter the consequence., “because…”
“BECAUSE WHY DAN!”
“BECAUSE GUYS CAN’T BE YANDERE PHIL!!!” (A.N: A yandere describes an anime character who is either psychotic or violent or both, and shows affection to the main character.)
Silence. Complete and utter silence. I feel it, I feel Phil’s anger. His vehement wrath, his pure unmitigated hatred for what I just said.
I don’t say anything next. I can’t. I can’t bring the courage. Instead I close my eyes and allow death to pass on. I feel Phil walk away. Why? Where’s he going? The apprehension in my stomach has never been this bad. This feeling is by far the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It burns from the inside out and freezes over only to burn me again. I sweat acid, I’m choking on nails, and my skin feels like it’s being violated by a cactus. Phil surely has the worst torture in mind for me. I’m on an operating table, he’s dressed as a doctor. I know what’s going to happen.
Phil returns. He pulls my eyelids open to force me to witness what will happen to me. He keeps my eyes pried open with a special clip so I have a perfect view of my body. He takes a small stainless steel scalpel and makes a small incision on my neck. I feel the blood trickle and I feel something getting pulled. It feels like my brain is being ripped apart and then it snaps. My throat feels like it’s filled with liquid cement. I can breathe but I realized what he did. He ripped out my vocal chords so I can’t scream.
Next I watch as he opens up my stomach and pulls out every organ in my body besides the vitals one I need to be kept alive. Slowly and painfully he rips them out and crushes them in his hands allowing the blood to fall back in my stomach. This goes on for thirty mintues, I don’t even need to put in detail the pain I feel. It’s unimaginable, undescribable, undeserving.
Then is my face. With a small curled knife he pills off my lips slowly allowing the blood to seep its way in between my teeth. Then he opens my mouth up and pulls out each one of my teeth with what seems to be a mini crowbar. He snaps them in my mouth and then pulls them off.
After my mouth he decides take the mini crowbar and pull off my nails slowly from my fingers. This isn’t hell. Hell isn’t as torturous as this. This incessant brutality, Phil isn’t Satan. He’s the sadistic king. He’s the utter epitome of pain and suffering. Once my nails are ripped off of my hands and feet he takes what seems to be a hefty rock hedge clipper.
He places it around my arms and squeezes, breaking my bones by imploding them. It doesn’t cut my arms off but instead mangles and crushes them. After my arms he goes to my legs until nothing but mangled skin is left.
He’s still not done yet, no he never is. He pulls out a rusty corkscrew and I know what he’s going to do with it. He jams it down my urethra and twists it inside my penis causing the inside of my meat to become shredded and minced. Bloodsquirts out from my dick and plasters itself on Phil but he’s not done there. Then he brutally pulls the corkscrew to the right ripping open that side of my penis just to run across my left testicle. It rips off the skin and causes my testicles to sag even more. Then he takes his clipper thing and crushes each testicle while its still attached only to use it to rip them off from my body.
As I’ve said, this is purely undescribable pain. I show my mercy by allowing you to imagine this feeling. For two reasons. The first, I can’t put this torturous anguish into words. It’s literally impossible to describe every nuance of this brutality. And secondly, If I could truly describe to you this pain you, the sheer vehemence of this suffering would be enough to torture your body with mere words. So I’ll allow you to be able to give yourself the benefit of the doubt of this pure and unmitigated torture.
Finally it’s almost over. But it only gets worse. Dan pulls out a box of mini spiders. My arachnaphobia kicks into hyperdrive. I want to scream and shout and writhe around and fear but I’m torturously disabled to. Dan signals to me almost telling me that he’s going to place the spiders down my throat but there’s one more thing he must do.
He takes his clipper and places it on my eyeballs. He starts with the right, slowly squeezing it allowing the blood on it to seep into my retinas and burn me before he pops my eyeball. After the first one is popped he moves on to the second. The only soothing part about this is the blood that flows down my face. It feels serene compared to this hell. Finally he pops the second one. I’m almost done, death is almost here. I hear the box empty, the spdiers clog my throat and crawl inside my body. They scurry, scamper, and hustle throughout my insides sojourning in my throat while they bite at the insides, resting in my lungs, clawing at my heart, and festering in every nook and cranny. The ultimate pain, the uttermost infinite amount of torture that could ever be reached. This seems to be a physically impossible amount of pain but that’s it, Phil did it. He reached the level of a God, smiting me with the impossible apex of torture and suffering. How fuckin kinky. The spiders bite and bite allowing the blood to run black inside me. It’s strange, seconds before I die all of a sudden this is turned into a great joy. It’s like the pain dial was reversed and the uttermost indescribable joy filled my body. I feel happy, I don’t hate Phil. I love him, I truly do. Do I still seem like a sexually misunderstood teen to you? I don’t think I do. I think I won. I won love,. Pure unmitigated, vehement, unwavering love. And it tastes like joy. A palatable victory. Funny, this victory, this palatable euphoria tastes like cherries. Like sweet liquid cherries…

My President (A Personal Archive)

She and Bill attended the Inauguration of Mayor de Blasio, as Bill swore him in. I attended, both because I’d interned at City Hall in the prior administration and because (and mostly because) I wanted to see them. (Jan. 2014)

The final semester of my Master’s program took me to Kosovo, where my team met with several government officials, including the president. This was one of a few photos she had in her office of Hillary, one of her inspirations (Mar. 2014)

The first time I met her was at her book tour. I spent the night outside Barnes and Noble. It was one of the most incredible moments of my life. (June 2014)

The morning after she announced, I went to her HQ in Brooklyn, résumé in hand. I did not make it past the guard. (April 2015)

I went to the official campaign launch on Roosevelt Island, where I incurred a massive sunburn and was in severe pain from standing for so long on bad ankles, but it was worth every moment. (June 2015)

I bought this at the California DNC in 2008, when I was in college. It’s in my regular rotation. (Jan. 2016)

There was a potluck at HQ on caucus night. I made Dem blue cupcakes with strawberry jam filling, which I called “the blood of Republicans.” (Feb. 2016)

I signed up to volunteer at HQ the moment the site went live, the previous April. This was one of my first shifts. (Feb. 2016)

From the moment day of the Iowa Caucuses until I began a new job in August, I painted my nails with her logo. (Apr. 2016)

Primary Day (Apr. 2016)

I worked the NY State primary, which required a 5am arrival and a 16-hour shift, but I loved the experience, and when the polls closed and the last voter was out, I whipped off my sweater to reveal a shirt bearing Hillary’s face and the slogan, “Chicks before Dicks.” (Apr. 2016)

The night after she crossed the delegate threshold and clinched the nomination, she spoke at the Navy Yard. He shook my hand. I was elbowed out of the way by a couple of people before I could reach out to her. (Jun. 2016)

I marched in the Labor Day parade with the union, and left a gift outside Trump Tower on the way back. (Sept. 2016)

My swag collection is on point. (Sept. 2016)

I couldn’t bear to remove the polish for a week after the election. It just felt wrong. (Nov. 2016)

I still see them throughout the city. It still hurts. (Nov. 2016)

2017 is here, and so am I. So is she. And she will still inspire me, as she has all my life. (Jan. 2017)