Settler-colonial states are founded through foreign invasion, with the objective of eliminating Native inhabitants and establishing a settler nation on Native land. Settlers seek to replace the Natives and claim the territory as their own. Settler colonialism is therefore understood as a distinct form of colonial governance, because it centers domination over land, which, in effect, becomes domination over life. To maintain their settler state and make the place their home, settlers must continually reassert their exclusive claim to the land, making the violent campaign to disappear the land’s Indigenous peoples into an ongoing process of invasion and dispossession rather than a single or historical event. As Audra Simpson illuminates, this settling of land and of consciousness continually builds “moral and political worlds,” as well as physical ones, “atop the worlds of others.”
The logic of elimination and replacement that typifies settler-colonial states is constitutive of the Zionist movement and the Israeli state.
You asked for it! The famous "fuck me" scene!
As commissioned by @tanimil! Full text version and commission under the cut
avof | mj june | ch 4: save your fights for fight club
affectionately known as: the fuck me scene
word count: 850
content: steamy fade to black, blood/injury, vulgar language, dementia & memory loss
Tossing the wolf inside, Helio thuds against the desk, and Danny shuts the door. Now the music is gone, even to Danny’s ears, for he had his office soundproofed by vampires. It leaves near-silence between them, with only the sound of Helio’s haggard breaths and blood pumping through his mortal body.
Helio hasn’t bothered to wipe away the blood leaking from his lip, so it drips past his chin and slides down his neck. His brown eyes glow gold with wolf inside him. “Asshole!”
“You can’t fight in my club,” he says. “Save it for the Underground. Do you know how many humans are out there? What if one of you had shifted?”
Helio scoffs. “That wouldn’t happen.”
Danny agrees with him. If he’s about to be promoted, he certainly wouldn’t lose control over a snide insult. “Maybe not you, but what about that asshole?”
“He had it coming.”
“Because he talked bad about your pack? Grow up.” Danny feels the reluctance in his chest as he speaks. He’s only twenty-five, a toddler in purebred years.
“I don’t give a shit what he says about my pack. We’ve been going at it for years.”
Danny hesitates before laughing with antipathy. “Over a joke, then?”
“It’s not a fucking joke,” Helio shoves Danny with all his might, which sends him lightly into the wall. “You wouldn’t understand. You live forever and you don’t have to worry about forgetting anything.”
Danny grows silent, realizing that when the asshole had said, “your Alpha had to step down because she couldn’t fucking remember how to shift anymore,” he’d meant it literally. That is not a joke, but it doesn’t excuse throwing someone across his club.
No, Danny doesn’t understand what it’s like to forget. He remembers every waking moment of his unending night.
Danny grabs Helio and spins them around, so now he pins the werewolf. He can’t help the sarcasm in his tone, “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t understand. I remember everything. Five thousand years of suffering that can never end. Aren’t I lucky?”
Helio’s eyes widen, any last glimpse of fury gone, leaving only shock in his brown eyes. His torn tank top strap hangs, leaving his right shoulder bare. The blood trickling down his neck begins to dry. Danny glares into his eyes, but the werewolf’s gaze drifts lower.
To Danny’s lips.
With a swift movement, Helio yanks him closer, leaning his head down to close the gap and plant his mouth onto his.
This is exactly what Danny was afraid would happen. If the Order doesn’t want him to do this, he should pull away. He should ban Helio from his club for starting a fight. Maybe he should even pick up and move somewhere else to avoid the inevitable supernatural dilemma.
But he tastes the fresh blood from Helio’s lip, and it’s much sweeter than it smells. He’s kissing a werewolf—something he has never experienced, despite his years. He doesn’t want to stop.
Knowing it’ll piss off the Order just makes him want to do it more.
He presses himself against Helio, hip points digging into each other. He runs his tongue along the inside of Helio’s lip, finding the bleeding cut, letting another few drops of blood flow across his tongue. The werewolf’s breaths shake, too erratic for him to tell if its nerves or excitement.
He moves away from Helio’s mouth and follows the trail of blood, kissing it off of his chin, his jaw. Arteries pump emphatically just under the skin, and Danny can sense Helio’s hair stand up and his breath catch in his throat as he moves down to his neck.
Something hard emerges against his hips as his tongue reaches the crevice where throat meets clavicle, licking away the last of the blood.
“Shit…” Helio hisses.
All the logic in Danny’s head tells him to stop; that he should listen to the Order; that he shouldn’t create enemies of an entire pack. But his hand doesn’t listen as it travels down Helio’s smooth chest and into his pants.
Helio’s body tenses and his harsh fingers coil around the collar of Danny’s blouse. For a moment, his eyes are a hot glare, as if to say how dare you? He means to push the vampire away, tell him to stop, curse him to hell, maybe even punch him. But just like Danny, he loses his inner debate. His weight gives in to the wall, allowing Danny’s hand to move deeper. Gentle lips back in the crook of his neck, Helio releases a low moan.
After a few long moments, hickey already forming, Helio speaks, breath tight and caught in his chest. “Fuck me."
Danny pulls away from his collarbone, curiosity twinkling in his eyes. He rises onto his toes so that their noses brush softly and he can taste Helio’s unsteady breaths against his mouth. The vampire’s hand, still deep in Helio’s pants, slows its movements and his voice resonates with smooth velvet once more.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Helio, biting his lip to stifle another moan, says again, “Fuck me."
Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.
This took me foreverrrrr to get to omg but I was tagged by @intotheinferno666 and it looked super fun! I'm doing this for my jjk itafushikugi + sukuna & uraume roleswap fic that's in the works rn since god knows when it will actually see the light of day since I'm prewriting the whole thing haha. These are from chapters one and two when Sukuna eats the finger. The word she assigned me was HOME
H:
He tried to thrash, but accomplished little more than uselessly kicking his legs. The world spun and his stomach dropped as he was swung through the air, and the next thing he saw was the gaping maw of the curse, all its crooked teeth and its disgusting saliva-slicked tongue.
Oh goddammit!
O:
“Or we could not,” Sukuna muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the rickety hutch. He hated when Gojo pulled this kind of bullshit, shoving them into these stupid situations where they had absolutely nothing they could do except as they were told. Ordered around like that’s all they were good for.
M:
More ice cracked, and unsteady footsteps thundered towards him. “What the hell are you doing!?” a panicked voice shrieked. “Stop it! Sukuna!”
E:
Except it wasn’t. “Not anymore!” Yuuji said with a cheerful smile, though he couldn’t quite quell the frustration and anger welling within him. Why was the original owner of this body conscious at all? Had Kenjaku fucked up the one thing they were supposed to do!?
This was a super fun one! As always no pressure if you don't wanna and anyone else is also free to give it a go but I'll tag @dwellsinthebog @alcinassugarbby @marichild @mintytrifecta and give the word BODY
