#it’s going to be used against people who don’t deserve it. who are innocent and young and inexperienced and hurt and fucked over by events

[simplegenius042]

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[frecklenog]

i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

[inbarfink]

Okay, so I already wrote a bunch of stuff about how that scene, although it is really sweet, is also kind of a Bad Sign for Simon - how he refuses to learn the Obvious Lesson from the Winterworld adventure (that being the Ice King again is probably a really really bad idea). But I want to talk about it also a little more about what it means for Fionna’s character as well. 

Because while sitting around and wallowing in self-loathing is probably bad for Fionna, especially after being told that she shouldn't be allowed to exist, and Simon is right to try and get her out of her funk. It's also still worthwhile for Fionna to have some introspection about the Consequences of Her Actions. Because she and Cake really did not consider them at all at first. They have a sense of morality and an instinct towards heroism, but they also tend to kinda forget the fantastical worlds they visit don’t exist entirely for their fantasy and have kind of a Protagonist-Centered-Morality fallacy. 

Most obviously you can see it in the market in Ooo. How Cake, in her excitement, damaged and hurt and even killed

A bunch of innocent marketgoers without even noticing. And then Fionna immediately jumped to Cake’s defense against these ‘weirdos’, who were actually just normal kinda-righteously-angry Oooian citizens.

It’s actually very similar to the whole Winterworld situation. Fionna’s assumption that she’s automatically the hero and protagonist of the story and black-and-white view of the situation and her tendency to kick ass first and ask questions later meant that she just recklessly injured a lot of innocent people.

(It might’ve been worse actually cause at least in Winterworld she was at least manipulated by an evil Wizard)

Fionna and Cake clearly have a great potential for heroism, but they do need to be a bit more considerate of the situation and people around them. And it does make sense considering that from their perspective - they’ve been living a very ordinary life up until now (and Cake was literally an animal. A very clever animal, but still not bound by the same standards of morality as the talking animals in Ooo). Action and adventure and fantasy stuff has been purely the realm of daydream and video games for them - and Fionna literally speaks about it in these terms.

(also, Fionna's Main Character Syndrome was undoubtedly validated when God literally told her that she was created to be the main character of her universe)

So yeah, it takes them some time to really process how to be heroes - they need to grapple with questions that Finn and Jake already kinda dealt with seventeen years ago. And actually a lot of those; how to resolve a situation without necessarily using violence, when does a 'villain' actually deserve sympathy and kindness, the importance of the larger context of any given conflict... their confrontations with Ice King all played a big part in that. It was never just him, but he was still a very major part.

And for Fionna and Cake right now, learning these lessons require some amount of personal introspection. So while it was a sweet attempt at comforting, I dunno if Simon’s little ‘the only problem with that universe is that this Alternative Me was terrible because he didn’t even acknowledge or remember Betty as the love of our life and the light of my entire universe’ thing is actually Good. 

I’m not quite sure Simon is the best person to teach Fionna and Cake heroism 101, because he is so focused on the Crown Quest as the thing that brings back Meaning to his life, and because his fatherly instincts just kinda go “Sad Young Person???? MUST GIVE COMFORT!” and also on account of the kidnapping.

I’m sure Fionna is going to become the heroine she dreams about eventually, it’s just going to be a bumpy ride. The best we can hope for is that they accept Simon’s comfort, that she doesn't start believing that she is nothing but an Error for the entire universe like the Scarab claims, but don’t necessarily listen to all of Simon's his words either.

[dreaming-of-the-reality]

Kind of getting sick of this whole “Lucerys was innocent” narrative and that B&C is justified because of Luke’s death.

When a house or a person declares for Team Black, they become the enemy of Team Green. You are supporting Rhaenyras claim to the throne against Aegons and therefore seen as the enemy.

When Lucerys CHOSE and volunteered to fly (because they would be faster than ravens) to Storms end in an attempt to gain support for Rhaenyra, he was declared an enemy of Team Green. His death was a consequence of his own action.

Your own Action 🤝 Your own Consequence

If Luke had refused to go in person, and Team Green had just decided to kill him, then yes he would’ve been innocent. But that’s not the case.

Stop comparing Lucerys to Jaehaerys and claiming that it was a fair exchange. It wasn’t.

Jaehaerys is six years old, probably has no clue what the hell is even going on, he doesn’t get to choose who he supports, and ends up being murdered for something his uncle did.

So people protesting the “there was no reason to kill Jaehaerys” by using Lucerys death as a fair reason, need to open their eyes to the reality of the show, which is that regardless of how much you loved that character, it does not make them innocent to everything.

I don’t care how cute he comes across to you. He chose his side, and died for it. He was mature enough to understand that by 13-14 years old. I’m not saying he definitively deserved to be murdered, because I don’t think he did, but I won’t be out here claiming he’s innocent when he’s not.

———

A justification I am also seeing a lot now, is that “well Jaehaerys is team green by default because he’s Aegons son”

Myrcella Lannister was murdered in Game of Thrones. She was innocent but was killed because she was associated with the Lannisters. She was killed as an act of “revenge” because Oberyn was killed in a situation he chose to put himself in. She was not responsible for any bad blood between the Martells and Lannisters, nor was she responsible for the actions of Cersei or Joffrey.

Jaehaerys Targaryen will be murdered in House of the Dragon. He is innocent, but will be killed because he is associated with Team Green. He will be killed as an act of “revenge” because Lucerys was killed in a situation he chose to put himself in. He is not responsible for any bad blood between Team Green or Team Black, nor is he responsible for the actions of Aegon or Aemond.

So stop with this ridiculousness. What’s to come is not right, it is not justified in any way shape or form, and it will be devastating and sad.

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

[fuck-hamas-go-israel]

No matter what, don’t lose your humanity.

I see this rhetoric very often, that if you call for the release of the hostages and condemn Hamas terrorism and the atrocities they’ve committed, then you automatically “must support the death of Palestinian civilians”.

Conversely, those who claim to care about the Palestinian civilians don’t seem to call for the release of hostages, never acknowledge the rape, torture, and murder of civilians on Oct 7. In fact, they seem to celebrate death of who they perceive as “Zionist”.

I saw this play out before my eyes on TikTok. A singer named Cat Janice was dying from cancer, and she asked her audience to use her song in their videos as she had willed the proceeds to her young son who is not more than 7 or 8 years old. People labelled her a Zionist because she apparently was following an Israeli account on Instagram.

It was a very tragic story and her family was going through a hard time dealing with the aggressive cancer that was slowly weakening her body.

But as we’ve seen:

They don’t care about people who are suffering from terminal illnesses and will harass them anyway.

In her videos of her giving updates on her situation and pleading with people for empathy for her young son, they flooded her comment section with spam:

Unfortunately, Cat Janice passed away, BDE. But that didn’t stop the harassment. In fact, some celebrated her death and even lauded it as a good thing as there is “one less Zionist” now.

Yes, there are people like this out there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise as they’ve been violent, they’ve been sending death threats, they’ve been chanting for violent “resistance” and “intifada” and the death of Jews and Israelis, as well as their allies. They celebrate violence in the most disgusting and dehumanising way possible.

Just look at the comments in this video of a Jewish creator saying that in Berlin, a Jewish student was attacked:

Meanwhile, we chant “Am Yisrael Chai”. We call for life, we focus on saving all lives, no matter who.

As the leaders of Hamas said in an interview, “The Israelis are known to love life. We, on the other hand, sacrifice ourselves. We consider our dead to be martyrs.”

Every innocent death is a tragedy, Israeli and Palestinian. Death IS a tragedy. The killing of Hamas terrorists, albeit deserved, is a tragedy because of the terroristic path they chose in life and what horrific crimes they had committed in order to warrant death as a means of justice.

As much as I wish that one day, those people who have spewed those vile, antisemitic, inhuman things will feel guilty for what they have said, I doubt they will. The perceived safety and anonymity of social media coupled with their complete absence of humanity, compassion, and empathy evaporates any drop of guilty conscience they may have. All we can wish is that fair and just consequences for their actions will be meted out to them one day.

But my fellow Jews, my fellow zionists, my fellow allies, please never, NEVER stoop to that level. It goes against everything we are about.

Once we lose our humanity, we’ll become dulled to the suffering of others. That’s not what we want, and it directly goes against the spirit of Judaism and Israel.

Continue to mourn the death of innocents, continue to get angry and weep for tragedy and injustice, continue to celebrate new life and lives saved. Continue to feel like a human being. Don’t be like them.

Don’t. Lose. Your. Humanity.

[neon-kazoo]

a hero teenager having a self destruction episode . maybe it's because they were too stressed but can't take it on to anything but themselves?, and a supervillain (who occasionally watch them from the sidelines) parent figure found them and comforting them:3 but hero doesn't want to be seen as vulnerable but supervillain reality checked them that they're still human and a literal kid at the end of the day ;;i hope thats ok sorry if its 2 specific >_<

Kinda short but I was feeling speedy. Hope this is similar enough!

Just a Kid

“You’re still just a kid, you know.”

Supervillain stood, hand wrapped around the upper arm of city’s teenage savior. They had pulled them aside from where they had found them in the City Square—where they were trying to challenge every villain in the city by broadcasting themselves on a jumbotron. Luckily, no other criminal would dare touch them when Supervillain was around.

That gave them time to talk.

“I’m not a kid!” the hero spit, trying unsuccessfully to wrench their arm out of the older villain’s grasp. Said villain shook their head disapprovingly.

“If your age starts with a one and it’s not in the triple digits-“

“I’m not a child,” Hero interrupted the mini-lecture to explain, “Children are innocent. I’m not. I let those people die. Me. I was supposed to save them.”

The supervillain had been at this way too long to be surprised by the words.

“That was never your responsibility,” they replied evenly, speaking in quite possibly the softest voice they had ever used.

Hero scoffed, “Those people that died. Those were kids.”

They turned away with the words.

“So what’s your plan then? Get yourself killed fighting a mob of villains and ensure you can never save anyone ever again?”

An unexpected sob racked the Hero’s shoulders.

Too harsh.

“Kid, it’s okay,” Supervillain backtracked, stepping forward, reaching towards the hunched hero.

“Don’t call me-“

Their objection was smothered by the thick fabric of the supervillain’s cape, which they were unceremoniously pressed against tightly, held in place by the villain’s arms.

A hug.

A comfort they didn’t deserve.

They tried to pull away, to no avail as Supervillain held strong.

“You’ve done so much more than anyone else,” they spoke above their head, much like how a parent would whisper words to comfort an upset child, “You’ve done enough.”

The hero fell apart in their arms, and the supervillain held them close, mumbling assurances and promises in an impossibly gentle tone.

They were going to be a kid again, Supervillain would make sure of it.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello, could you write something about toge inumaki where the reader comforts him after the loss of his arm in Shibuya (I need content about my baby, almost no one writes about him) 💗😸

Comforting Toge Inumaki after he lost his arm in Shibuya

Pairing: Toge Inumaki x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: see request above

Warnings: loss of arm, hurt to comfort, Toge deserves all the love, this is not proofread bc it's my birthday and I have to meet up with people urgh

dear anon, I hope you like your request even though it took me some time <3

Your feet carry you down the dark hallways on their own, mind racing. You weren’t there when it happened. In fact, you didn’t even know what was going on until Yuta arrived by your side.

“He’s severely injured, (y/n).”

There was no doubt that he talked about your lover, the boy who swept you off your feet. Toge Inumaki, severely injured? This has to be a bad dream, you will wake up every minute-

But you didn’t wake up. No, instead Shoko confirmed your worst nightmares. When Sukuna launched his sphere, Toge got caught in between. You swallow hard, desperately try to keep yourself from hyperventilating, from losing your mind completely. Your wobbly legs carry you down the halls of jujutsu high, hot tears stinging in your eyes. It is said that he lost an arm and a severe amount of blood. Is he awake, shocked, depressed? What exactly happened? The sheer wave of thoughts that roam around your head makes you feel dizzy and almost trip over your own feet.

You have to see him, have to make sure he’s alright.

“Shoko?”

Your call fades into the darkness unanswered. What time is it? It has to be far past midnight. After all, you yourself were busy the whole night fighting off curses in Shibuya.

“Fuck!”

Over and over, you slam your fists into a nearby wall. Suddenly your house of card collapses. This is a nightmare, the worst that could have happened. Nanami-sensei and Nobara dying. Panda, Maki, all the others…Toge.

You swallow hard, a toe-curling scream escaping your trembling lips. He promised to come back when you had to separate, promised to meet you back at Jujutsu High when everything’s over.

“I don’t want to leave you like this”, you admitted, heart almost pounding out of your chest.

He said nothing, he didn’t had to. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and caressed your hair gently.

“Tuna tuna.”

A soft kiss on your temple, a last warm smile.

Then he disappeared in one of the tunnels, straight into darkness. Was that the last time you saw him? Your numb body glides down the wall, life forcing you onto your knees. You always knew how dangerous this job is, that every day could be your last. And still, you never admitted it to him. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him how you truly feel, that all those innocent touches mean the world to you.

“I love you”, you whimper into the night.

“I always did.”

“What the hell are you doing here, (y/n)?”

Your widen eyes search for her voice. Oh, there was never a moment you were more excited to hear her, to feel her presence. In the matter of second, you get back on your legs and start running. Towards the woman who means hope, towards her white doctor’s coat splattered in blood.

“Please tell me he’s okay, tell me you were able to fix him”, you mutter against her chest.

The smoke of cigarettes follows Shoko no matter where she goes, stings in your nose like venom. But you couldn’t care less. No, that she’s here means he has to be alright. That she’s here is your last straw of hope.

“Calm down, kid.”

Her free hand brushes through your hair while she puffs on her cigarette.

“This was a rough night, okay? And to be honest, you look like you could use a treatment to-“

“Shoko.”

Your eyes find hers, clouded in sleep deprivation and an unwavering sadness. And then she…smiles.

“He’s alright, (y/n).”

The weight of what feels like the whole world collapses from your chest onto the floor. And for the very first time since Yuta told you what happened, you are able to finally breathe. He’s alright. That means he’s alive, he’s save, he’s still there.

“Can I see him?”

“Just to let you know…I wasn’t able to save his left arm, okay? He’s well otherwise, but I wasn’t able to fix that. Just don’t be surprise when…y’know, it’s gone”, she explains while starting to move towards the hospital wing.

You simply follow her like a lost puppy, the news of his lost arm making your guts turn. You already heard what happened but still you hoped Shoko might be able to somehow fix this…How does he feel? This news must be devastating for him. Does he already know about the others?

Just when you’re about to drift off in your panic thoughts all over again, Shoko comes to a stand in front of your door. Your heartbeat picks up in an instant, glossy eyes staring at the closed door.

“Is he in there?”

“Take the time you need, okay? And (y/n)?”

Your turn around to look at her, shaky fingers already positioned on the doorknob.

“Just go ahead and finally tell him about your feelings, okay?”

You swallow hard, mouth so dry you aren’t even able to respond with words. Instead, you nod at her, heart pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you threaten to faint.

And then you open the door.

For a moment, your body isn’t really sure what to do. Are you about to pass out, are you relieved, scared, miserable? Toge just sits there, a weak smile forming itself on his lips when he realizes it’s you.

Something inside you snaps. Before you are able to help yourself, you storm towards him. Despite the horrible pain in your injured shoulder, despite all the bruises that cover your legs, despite the fact that you just want to cry and go to sleep, you sprint. Your body falls onto the sick bed he lays on, collapses into his already opened invited arms. Tears of joy, guilt and agony start to stream down your face in rivers, soak the bandage that covers his chest.

“Mustard leaves.”

“Are you alright?”

He eyes you up and down, inspects the wound on your forehead with his fingertips.

“I should ask you this”, you mutter against his chest.

“I should have never left you alone down there. I-…I’ll never forgive myself for this. We should have stayed together. Maybe we would have been able to prevent this from happening, maybe-“

“Fish flakes.”

“That’s not true, (y/n).”

His eyes are filled with emotions you can’t read, his thumb caressing your cheek oh so gently.

“I love you, Toge. I should have said it sooner, but I’ve been to afraid to fuck it up”, you cry out.

You never expected those words to come off your tongue so easily, that you’d be able to finally admit your feelings to him. A gentle smile lights up his face, eyes still fixated on yours.

“Salmon.”

“I love you too.”

Somehow you always knew. Deep within your guts, you always had this feeling that he might like you back. But hearing it from his very own mouth, seeing the glimmer in his eyes, that oh so precious smile. You are so lost in your train of thoughts that you startle when the boy you love more than anything else suddenly sobs.

“Fish flakes.”

“I’m scared, (y/n).”

His sudden confession almost sweeps you off your feet, the pained tone in his sore voice breaking your heart into tiny little pieces. Out of all people in Shibuya, he deserved this the least. But you have to be strong. Not only for yourself, but especially for Toge.

“We’ll get through this together, okay? I might not be able to take your pain away, but I’ll be there for you non-stop.”

He wraps his arm around you. Longingly, passionate. As if you’re air and he can’t breathe, as if you’re sunshine on a cloudy day, like water in the desert. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, silent tears still streaming down your face. Oh, you can’t imagine how painful it must be to lose your arm. Let alone…all the horrible things he saw in Shibuya. This night showed every single one of you that the real fight just started, that you had absolutely no idea about the real jujutsu world.

You gaze up at him, his glossy but loving eyes set on you.

“We can do this, Toge”, you whisper into the night.

“Salmon”, his shaky voice replies before he presses his lips against yours.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa @bonnie-tz @bookcluberror @sillygoose3082

[waywardcrow]

Haircuts and coffee.

Summary: A little story about how Fairy and Bucky meet and how far Fairy could go to protect someone.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader.

WC: About 1600 or something.

TW: Very poor science kwnoledge by me, a pair of assholes talking shit, language, references to Bucky’s past as the Winter soldier and the abuse he suffered at Hydra's, physical violence (don’t try this at home), goofiness, someone trips and falls, fluff and feels, reader it's pictured to don't be above 5'3 but I try to don't specify too much, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Everybody talked about “the incident” for a while.

That’s what Tony decided to call when his favorite lab tech decided to blast a not tested powerful weapon at some jerk agents.

In your defense, he had it coming.

Agent Smith was rude, obnoxious and misogynistic, he smelled like instead of water he used his awful cologne to shower and he made the mistake to be rude to Sergeant Barnes in your presence.

Three weeks ago Sergeant Barnes was found innocent of all charges against him and Captain Rogers took him to the Avengers compound so he could start living there while he finished his recovery, you remembered how happy he was that morning, not even Tony’s teasing could get under Steve’s skin and you were so happy for both of them, obviously not everyone shared the feeling.

There were some people whispering, not very enthusiastic about having the former Winter Soldier living there, free, but you decided to don’t engage with them, Agent Hill made very clear you couldn’t keep getting into fights with your coworkers even if they never were physical.

You weren’t a violent person but also you weren’t one to stand and watch something happening when you knew it was wrong.

So you focused on your work.

A simple weapon that could be camouflaged like a normal glove but it had all the power of Tony’s blasters, it was a delicate experiment because the material wasn’t resistant enough to the power source so it ended on fire or the blast wasn’t powerful enough, firing some sparks that only will scare you and no one else.

Tony told you over and over again to don’t pressure perfection which was bullshit because the man survived on caffeine and impostor syndrome most of the days, just like you. You continued to work until you were sure it was good, that’s why you decided to try it in a safe environment and, it was then when it happened.

You heard a couple of agents talk on your way to see Tony, they were watching Sergeant Barnes from the hall without an ounce of shame while he poured some coffee for himself in the kitchen, what you heard made your stomach drop.

“I don’t know why they let him out, he’s a fucking freak” Agent Smith said with a vicious smile in his very symmetrical face.

“Yeah man, they should never left him leave prison” the other, Jameson, agreed.

“They actually should send him back to Hydra, so he gets what he deserves”

At that, you saw Sergeant Barnes flinch and you realized he could hear them even if he was a very good distance.

It broke your heart.

He was so polite when Steve introduced you, he had such a kind smile when his best friend told him he would take him to the best burgers in the city that night as celebration and you read some of the files years ago when Nat put out all of SHIELD and Hydra’s information, you knew things you wished that could get erased from your mind and specially you wished the man in front of you never would have to suffer them, ever.

So yeah, you threw Hill’s advice through the window and went to agent jerk and agent douchebag.

“Take that back, assholes”

You were well aware how you looked, a small nerd with very big glasses and a very short skirt facing some six foot something idiots who could kill you in a heartbeat. Your mother always told you to stop being too impulsive but your father always smiled about it, calling you a troublemaker.

“Don’t get your nose in things that doesn’t concern you, lab rat” Smith didn’t like you, not so much after you declined his offer to go out which was predictable from someone like him, beside him Jameson let out a laugh that made you see red.

“I said: take it back and apologize”

Smith got too close to you for your liking, enjoying being able to stared down at you, like you were nothing.

“Or what? Are you going to cry? Or would you ask your new friend to kill me like he used-“ you didn’t let him finish, with a flick of your wrist, he got send backwards alongside his buddy, making both of them fly across the hall to the empty conference room to end in the garden, a floor below.

You looked at your hand, the good news was your experiment worked, the bad was Maria would not like this.

That was how you ended in disciplinary action, thankfully Tony and Steve interceded for you, watching with Friday’s help the footage of the incident, Smith and Jameson had to apologize to Sergeant Barnes and you didn’t have to do the same with them. When they presented a complain, Tony swore the footage of the incident was gone and there was no way they could prove you hurt them. Also he promised them they would have nice assignments waiting for them after their recovery… in Alaska.

Maria was not speaking to you, tired of cleaning everyone’s messes. Yelena gave you lots of high fives that made you want to hide when someone else watch you both, and Steve, he was thankful for your intervention and you didn’t regret it but his friend couldn’t look at you in the eyes anymore.

It wasn’t that obvious because as part of you punishment, you had to spend a lot of time in the training facilities with Nat, Maria was convinced that it was perfect because you hated exercise and she was right, you were in hell.

Even if Nat was one of your best friends, she was a relentless trainer, tough and disciplined, all you weren’t when it came to run in circles.

“Come on, Fairy” she yelled at you from her position, very ahead of you “I need you to run like Pedro Pascal is waiting for you!”

The sweat was blinding you, your lungs felt on fire and still you managed to scream at her like a suffocated turtle.

“Don’t you dare use Pedro’s name in vain!”

The redhead laughed, running backwards like it was easy, for her it probably was and then you saw him.

Not Pedro Pascal, of course, although you were sure he was friends with Pepper and she didn’t want to tell you.

You saw Sergeant Barnes coming towards the run track, it wasn’t strange since he and Steve used it a lot but his hair, it was different. He had cut all his long locks leaving only a very modern haircut that make his cheekbones more evident.

Before you could think about closing your mouth, your foot got caught in something and you fell.

It was so embarrassing being in the med bay for this.

Sam would never let you hear the end of it, Yelena got the footage and made a tik tok reel just for you, Morgan was the only one who took pity on you and left you a bag of Sour patch when she went to see you.

You were fine with all of that, the teasing of your friends and even your sore wrist but your literal high school celebrity crush saw you hit the dust, all because you were so busy staring at him. It was a good thing he was avoiding you.

Because life loved to make fun of you, he went to see you at the med bay.

“Hi miss, Fairy, I mean miss Fairy” he wasn’t sure he could get to call you by the pet name everybody used with you even if Steve had introduced you like that. Bucky knew your real name, of course, but you seemed to like being called Fairy and if he was honest with himself, it suited you.

“It’s everything ok, Sergeant?” your first instinct was to check on him and it didn’t went unnoticed by Bucky.

“Yeah, I am” he put a cup pf coffee in the bedside table and looked at you like he wanted to run from there “I came to see how you are, it was a very bad fall”

Your cheeks burned, why did this have to happen to you? If seventeen year old you could see you right now, she would slapped you for making this impression on Bucky Barnes, your favorite Howling commando, the reason you wanted to join SHIELD and even when you couldn’t, you still tried to do something good with your life.

“Yeah, it wasn’t- I mean, I’m fine” you smiled but it looked more like a grimaced gesture.

He wasn’t convinced, your arm had scratches and your left cheekbone was red, Bucky felt bad for waiting until this happened to talk to you.

“I brought you some coffee, Steve told me you like it like this” he lied, Bucky had observed you enough to know how you liked it, which was natural since you drank it like it was water. He fought the urge to hide his gloved hands on his pockets “I didn’t get to thank you”

“What for?” you asked before taking a sip of your cup, it was perfect.

“For standing for me, that day”

His voice sounded small even being this close to you and he hated it.

He hated you heard what they said, he hated that you felt bad for him and that he found you so beautiful when he had no chance with you.

Biting your lip, you left your drink and looked at him in the eyes.

“I didn’t want you to think they represent us, they don’t, there’s a lot of douchebags but there’s also a lot of good people here and we will support you” it sounded so cheesy but it was true, what kind of superheroes organization they would be if they don’t take care of their own people?

Bucky stared at you, not wanting to believe you were real, why were you being so kind with him? And why did he wanted more?

“Thanks, Fairy” this time, your pet name sounded sure on his tongue and it made you smile.

“No need to thank me, Sergeant”

“Please, call me Bucky”

Hello! I wanted to write this so bad and I didn't care if it was very self indulgent and silly, I needed this, I love Fairy and Bucky so much and I hope you love them too, let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

[mommybard]

Oh sure, everyones heard of slutty bards. Of lewd rogues who pick pockets while giving handjobs. Of sorcerers getting bred by various monstrous beings to get more sorcerer magic in their line. Of paladins who are totally fighting to defeat evil, not because they’re secretly masochistic cuties who want so badly to be overpowered and taken by those they fight. 

But where’s the love for the wizards? Hmm? The abjuration dommes holding off their playthings orgasms. Countering every attempt they make to finally get the relief they need. Warding them against being able to reach that peak without permission. Covering their pets in various glyphs to punish or reward them, as the situation demands. The conjuration monster fuckers, constantly summoning various beings of the other planes to try them out. From the elementals of the Earth Plane, to the devils of the Nine Hells, even the eldritch beings from the Outer Planes. Some of them even open portals just to their holes, leaving the other end with a friend or even where someone might stumble upon it and put their body to use. 

Those fucking divination voyeurs. Peeking in on everyone else, touching themselves as they watch the whorish acts of their fellow wizards. Loading up newbie adventurers with tales of prophecy, when they really can’t wait to scry in on them and watch them getting ruined by the monsters they were “prophesized” to slay.

The enchantment mind controllers. Hypno addicts controlling and warping the minds of their loyal minions. Rewriting every part of their brains to serve them. Planting suggestions, rewriting personalities, corrupting and twisting innocent cuties into wanton whores desperate for more. 

Illusion…bah. Exhibitionists more like it. Strolling around naked as can be while they make other people see them in splendid outfits. Hiding in plain sight as they touch themselves or others. Going invisible so they can more easily eat out or suck off someone under a table. Projecting an image of them just sitting in a theater naturally while they’re stroking themselves raw. Bunch of deviants. 

Don’t even get me started on those necromancy sadists. Inflicting terrible wounds on those they capture, just to heal them up after. And endless cycle of pain and pleasure until their subjects break. Just so they can get them to sign away their bodies and souls to the necromancer. Degenerates. 

But the horniest of them all? The most depraved ones, the ones that deserve the most love? Definitely the transmutation wizards. Shaping both their body and others to suit their needs. Sculpting the thickest cocks, the bounciest tits, the most breed-hungry cunts, the roundest asses. Or on the reverse. Tiny tits that are ridiculously sensitive. Barely there penises that can’t help but squirt every time their owner is teased or humiliated. Needy boycunts that refuse to cum until their owner’s ass is being violated and recked. Really, is there any nobler school of magic~?

[argyrocratie]

(...)

In a message that sharply diverges from the mainstream Israeli public discourse amid the army’s ongoing assault on Gaza, and at a time when anyone in Israel who expresses even mild opposition to the war is facing persecution and repression, Mitnick told +972: “My refusal is an attempt to influence Israeli society and to avoid taking part in the occupation and the massacre happening in Gaza. I’m trying to say that it’s not in my name. I express solidarity with the innocent in Gaza. I know they want to live; they don’t deserve to be made refugees for the second time in their lives.”

(...)

How did your decision to refuse enlistment come about? 

Even before the first draft notice, I knew I was not interested in enlisting. I knew I wasn’t willing to serve in this system that perpetuates apartheid in the West Bank and only contributes to the cycle of bloodshed. I understood from the very privileged position I find myself in, having a supportive family and environment, that I have an obligation to use it to reach other young people and to show that there is another way.

When I talk to my friends — some of whom serve and some of whom received exemptions — about why I’m not going to the army, they understand that it comes from a humane perspective of consideration for the other. No one thinks I support Hamas or want [my friends] to experience harm. There are people who believe that military activity will bring security; I believe that my public refusal is what will influence and bring the most security.

How did the protests against the judicial overhaul help you shape your worldview?

Before the protests, I viewed political activism as something very distant, and I didn’t think it was possible to make an impact as an individual. When the protests began and I saw they included members of Knesset going out to the streets, I realized that politics is closer to me than I thought, that it can reach every corner of the country, and that it is possible to have an influence. That’s where I understood that my actions can affect the reality we see here, and I have an obligation to act for a better future.

Were you debating whether to do it now, given the current atmosphere? 

Yes, there were doubts. I always knew that the army doesn’t have a consistent policy regarding conscientious objectors, that the response can change in a moment – to release all objectors or to imprison them for a long time — and I was prepared for that. After October 7 and the [government’s] attack on the peace movement, on Jewish-Arab partnership, and on Palestinian citizens expressing support and solidarity with the innocent in Gaza, even on demonstrations, it has become frightening. But now is precisely the time to show the other side, to show that we exist.

Do you think there’s anyone in the country willing to listen to such messages right now?

We all know that we need another way, especially after October 7. We all know that it simply doesn’t work, that Benjamin Netanyahu is not “Mr. Security.” Managing the conflict is a policy that hasn’t worked and eventually collapsed. 

We can’t continue with the current situation, and there are two options now: the right suggests transfer and genocide of the Palestinians in Gaza; the other side says there are Palestinians here, living between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea, and they are entitled to rights. Even people who voted for Bibi, and even those who supported the judicial reform, can connect to the idea that everyone deserves to live justly, that everyone deserves a roof over their heads, and support shared existence here.

After October 7, many who were on the left claimed they “sobered up”. Did this affect you?

There is no justification for harming innocent civilians. The criminal attack on October 7, in which innocents were killed, is illegitimate resistance to the oppression of the Palestinian people in my eyes. However, outlawing legitimate resistance such as protests, or declaring human rights organizations as terrorist organizations, leads people to dehumanize the other and to actions targeting civilians.

October 7 did not change my perspective; it only reinforced it. I still believe it is impossible to live with the siege on Gaza and an occupation, and not feel [any consequences]. I believe that many people finally understand this. The idea of “out of sight, out of mind” doesn’t work. Something needs to change, and the only way is to talk, to reach a political settlement. I’m not saying it will solve everything, but it will be another step toward justice and peace.

What was your experience at the Conscience Committee? 

The pre-committee interviewer was aggressive. She questioned my nonviolence because I opposed the government’s actions and the occupation. Essentially, due to my opinions, she told me that I am not a conscientious objector because these were political views.

In the end, I went through the pre-committee, and appeared before the committee itself less than a week after the interview, while many people usually wait half a year. It was a hostile interview: me opposite four people.

They attacked my opinions. They asked me what I would have done on October 7, and how I would have handled the situation. They constantly interrupted me, and said they would phrase the question differently. I tried to continue answering, but they said I wasn’t responding to them. I am not the leader of Israel; they can’t place me in that position.

They asked me how my refusal is different from the refusal of Brothers in Arms [a group of army veterans who declared their refusal to show up for reserve service in protest against the judicial coup]. I replied that I appreciate them and think it’s important that there are people who have a red line for service — but I set my red line before that, and I hope their red line moves in the direction of my red line.

Two days later, they told me I hadn’t passed the committee. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t receive any explanation, they just called and told me the result."

...

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Smut. Switch dynamic. Praise. Rough sex. Oral(both receiving). Slight choking. Overstimulation. Spitting. Blood. Minors DNI.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Coney Island Baby

After their return from Hades, Luke and Katherine slept for an entire two days. They were exhausted beyond understanding. It had taken Luke a while to readjust to mortal luxuries, like time and space.

Luke eventually woke one morning to sunlight pouring in through the window, a welcome improvement from their time in the Underworld. Katherine slept beside him in their shared bed, and all was well at the moment. He knew to relish in the present calmness, as it naturally wouldn’t last.

He was happy to wake up without anywhere they had to go, or a nightmare to recover from. Luke was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare some time in the first few hours of sleeping, but eventually, so much time had passed he’d since forgotten them. He laid in the hotel bed with his feet curled into his body as Katherine faced him, mirroring his body language.

“You okay?” she asked softly, a smile on her face for what felt like the first time in forever.

He nodded, genuinely able to mirror that smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. I feel a lot better.”

“Me too,” Katherine nodded. “I feel like the Underworld really fucked us up.”

“Yeah… I guess we have more to be haunted by than most people.”

“We should do something fun,” she sighed, “And not be miserable for once.”

“I think… that’s a really good idea,” Luke decided, his voice still deep from exhaustion. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wanna go to Coney Island,” she said slowly. “I’ve never been. I wanna know what Lou Reed was talking about.”

“Okay,” Luke agreed, not needing any further reasoning. “Coney Island it is.”

It felt great to the both of them waking up at 2 PM. As Luke finished his shower, towel still wrapped around his waist, he heard Katherine speaking, but couldn’t hear the words. Opening the bathroom door, he emerged with wet hair.

“What’s that?”

Standing coquettishly against the wall, in only an oversized shirt that he’d lent to her, she didn’t bother to hide the grin on her face as she spoke.

“What should I wear?” she asked.

This was a question Luke never expected from Katherine. He’d always felt that she was a very confident sort of person, the kind of person who just always woke up knowing exactly what they wanted to wear. If anything, he would’ve thought she’d tell him what to wear.

“…What do you want to wear?” he asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“I don’t know. Something I wouldn’t usually wear,” she admitted. “Something you can’t find somewhere that sells fishing bait.”

“What do you like?” Luke asked, genuinely curious what she actually liked that wasn’t leather jackets or jeans.

“I don’t know,” Katherine admitted. “…Should I wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, yeah,” he nodded, kind of flustered. “That’d look nice.”

“Alright,” she shrugged, still looking at him even though the conversation had come to a conclusion.

Luke watched as her eyes slowly trailed downward, chuckling as he put his hands on his hips.

“What you looking at?” he asked.

“Your face,” she smiled innocently, crossing her arms as she met his gaze.

“That’s not my face.”

“Oops,” she shrugged, wandering off as he just shook his head.

Luke truthfully wasn’t really sure what was going on with Katherine, but he didn’t really question it. They were both having fun. He figured eventually, he’d figure out if she would be a friend, girlfriend, or something in between.

He decided to put on his nice brown leather jacket and a dash of cologne, putting in the effort that he felt someone like Katherine deserved.

“You ready?” he called, car keys in hand.

“Yeah,” she called, slowly coming out of the bathroom after putting on her makeup.

Luke had almost forgotten she was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. She had the softest skin, the prettiest lips, and long, shiny hair. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and what he could only describe as one of the shortest denim skirts he had ever seen, along with a pair of heeled leather boots.

He could smell her perfume, and it made him feel lightheaded with ecstasy.

“How do I look?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Like I’m gonna have to win you every stuffed animal they’ve got,” he said proudly.

He playfully threw his arm around her as they climbed into the Pontiac and headed for Coney Island.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my boyfriend so they get scared you’re gonna beat the shit outta them,” Katherine said as she put on her lip gloss on the car.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my girlfriend so they think I’m really cool,” Luke smiled.

For once, the voices in his mind were quiet. There was no screaming, and no pain or guilt. All he thought about was how much he really, really liked Katherine as they sang along to Smashing Pumpkins in the car. Wandering around Coney Island and going on the roller coasters with her was enough to make him forget about being anything more than a person.

For the first time in his life, Luke didn’t have to do anything. He wasn’t too busy saving the world to realize that his world might just be someone else.

As he watched Katherine genuinely laughing and smiling, he felt he didn’t deserve the chance to see it. It was so unusual to him, seeing her enjoying herself. It definitely felt strange that it was being with him that made her enjoy herself. But he loved every minute of it, whether it was exploring with her, or sitting next to her on rides, or standing behind her in lines so that she could live in peace.

“Oh, look. A basketball game,” Katherine pointed out.

“You wanna play?” he asked her.

“No, I wanna watch you play,” she grinned.

“Okay,” he sighed jokingly, “Which one do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Luke examined the wall of various sizes of stuffed animals, trying to decide which one he liked the best. Eventually, he settled on a tiger, because in a strange way, Katherine reminded him of one. It didn’t take long for him to make enough baskets to win one. He’d gotten just about every single one, which Katherine admittedly found attractive in him as she picked at the pink cotton candy he’d decided to get for them.

Luke turned around with a goofy grin as he showed off the stuffed tiger he’d won for her. Laughing happily, Katherine excitedly jumped into his arms as he caught her instinctively, stunned and touched by the gesture. Luke gladly spun her around in a circle as he allowed her to wrap her legs around him, the two of them fitting in with the families around them surprisingly well.

Katherine pulled away as Luke held her in his arms, throwing her own arms around his neck as she went in for a big, romantic kiss in the middle of the boardwalk. In that moment, the one thought swimming around in Luke’s head was that he really had been to hell and back with this girl.

Neither of them were in any rush to pull away. The kiss ended very slowly as they separated, only to see one another’s smiles.

“I’d kill for you,” Katherine whispered, giggling as they seemed entirely wholesome to the people around them.

“I’d die for you,” Luke reminded her, setting her back down on the ground. “And. You deserve all the tigers in the world.”

She eagerly accepted the gift, taking the animal as she made it face him, playfully snapping her teeth in a joking bite as he admired her.

“Thank you. For today,” he told her.

“Why are you thanking me?” she asked.

“Because, you let me see you smile,” Luke stated simply.

“I’ll let you see it even more if we can ride the roller coaster again,” she incentivized.

“Again? I’m gonna throw up,” he groaned.

They had spent almost all of their waking hours at Coney Island before they decided to go. Luke certainly didn’t mind driving as he watched Katherine blissfully do nothing for once.

“So, what do you wanna do?” he asked her readily. “Today’s about you.”

“Wanna keep the fun going?” she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

Luke raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Why? What’ve you got in mind?”

“Let’s find a dive bar,” she suggested, an array of ID’s in hand. “I’ll kick your ass at pool.”

“You’re on,” he accepted.

Playing pool with Katherine while they each had a beer at a dive bar would’ve been fun, if it weren’t for the men in the room. Luke wasn’t sure if it was how much he cared about Katherine, or how he felt he owed her for completing Ares’s ‘quest’, or just common decency, but he wanted to gouge out every wandering eye in the room.

It was all he could think about as they played and drank. He knew it was ridiculous, because Katherine could easily kill everyone in the room probably better and faster than he could, but he still wanted to ‘defend her honor’, or something. Perhaps he just wanted to murder anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

He knew she could sense it. She knew why he stood right behind her every time she leaned over the pool table to take her shot. But, what he didn’t know, was that she took pleasure in the way he would lightly brush up against her. The tension definitely made several hours go by pretty quickly.

“Hey, Katherine?” he said, wanting to be serious for a moment.

“Hmm?” she looked up.

“I, uh… I know we moved past it, but… I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you that night. With Ares,” Luke reminded her. “I should’ve told you how grateful I was to you, for what you did.”

“You don’t have to,” she promised him, knowing it was bound to come up sooner or later. “I know.”

“Okay,” he nodded, feeling less guilty.

“Alright,” she smiled, taking his hand in hers as she squeezed it for reassurance.

“For the record,” Luke purred, leaning down and whispering softly in her ear. “I wish I could’ve killed them myself.”

She looked up at him in surprise, feeling as if Tartarus had changed him.

“You deserve that much,” he told her, lightly brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she remarked.

“You want another drink?” he asked, cautiously glancing behind her at the man leering as he sat at the bar.

“Why don’t we go back?” she suggested.

“Sure. You go out to the car, I’ll just be a second,” Luke told her.

Katherine took the car keys from him and disappeared as Luke headed to the bar, crossing his arms as he approached the man who had been hungrily eyeing her for the past hour.

“Hey,” he said, his tone rather confrontational.

“Hey,” the man grinned in response, not perceiving a single reason as to why Luke could be angry with him. “Quite the hottie you got there. What an ass.”

Luke made a face, at both the comment and its unfortunate phrasing, watching as the man’s friend seemed to also think it was somehow cool. Not appreciating the lack of common decency, Luke heard a voice in the back of his head that just said ‘fuck it’. He snapped and pulled a folding knife from his pocket, holding it inches from the man’s face as he slammed it onto the bar.

Everyone around him stopped, not quite sure how they wanted to react to the situation yet. Luke calmly held the knife to the man’s face as both he and his friend panicked.

“Ah! What the fuck?!” the man hissed, his face smashed into the table.

“Yo, we don’t want any trouble!” his friend blurted out drunkenly.

“Talk about my girlfriend like that, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out,” Luke threatened, waiting for him cry.

Not having anything else to add, the man nodded quickly, begging Luke not to hurt him as he roughly shoved him, leaving the bar as everyone, including the bartender, just watched, fully aware that calling the police to that particular establishment would just be bad for business.

Luke eventually joined Katherine in the car, climbing into the driver’s seat as she looked at him calmly.

“You okay?” she asked coolly.

“More than,” he assured her, feeling as if he’d done his part. “Also, we can’t come back here.”

“Okay,” Katherine shrugged, fully aware of what must’ve happened.

Luke started the car angrily, starting to wish he’d followed through on his promise. She could definitely tell the mood he was in.

“I bet it was really hot,” she said finally, “Watching you make that guy squirm.”

Luke stopped, turning to look at her as he knew exactly what she wanted.

“That’s nothing. You should see me make you squirm.”

That was what did it. Never before had Luke ever seen two eighteen year-olds more determined to do anything. It was practically a race back to the hotel. Luke had to fight every urge to carry Katherine through the hotel lobby, elevator, and hallway. As soon as the door closed behind them and Luke’s jacket was thrown off, it was a free-for-all.

Katherine jumped into his arms, kissing him passionately as she felt his strong arms wrapped around her. He sighed heavily into the kiss, high on her scent as he set her back down on the ground.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked her, searching within her eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” she promised him.

That was all he needed to know. They all but slammed into one another in a messy kiss, his tongue driving her insane. She helped him pull his shirt over his head, gasping lightly as she felt his cold hands underneath her skirt, kneading her skin, hard.

“I want your thong in between my teeth,” Luke said suddenly.

Katherine sighed. “I love ADHD sex.”

Her hands slowly ran all the way down his bare chest as he kissed her, still playfully groping at her ass.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” she teased.

“Neither do you,” he promised her.

He slid her skirt down her legs in one swift move, watching, aroused, as she got down on her knees to get his pants off. She patiently pulled down his briefs, her response to which could only be described as a greedy gasp.

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he gasped, his hand slowly combing through her hair.

Grinning up at him, Katherine’s eyes darkened as she only opened her mouth, tongue just barely sticking out as she silently told him what to do.

“Oh fuck, I could die right now,” he groaned.

He slowly inserted himself into her mouth, gasping at the sensation. His pace gradually picked up as he held onto the back of her head, thrusting as fast as she wanted him to. She looked up at him coolly, eyes calm and serene as he fucked her face, thrusting so hard he was surprised she didn’t choke or cry at all. She didn’t even seem fazed; she was enjoying it wholeheartedly. Luke groaned, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good…”

He hardly even felt the need to contain his excitement. But eventually, he couldn’t wait anymore. Pulling out of her mouth, Luke grabbed her by her face, pressing a hard, wet kiss to her lips as he forcefully pried her mouth open and spit in it roughly, gulping as she looked him in the eyes as she swallowed. He could’ve fallen in love right then and there.

“You’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” he said in a low drawl.

Katherine loved that he didn’t care if kissing her after she’d had his dick in her mouth was disgusting. She mounted him eagerly, chuckling as he impatiently started grinding against her as she peeled off her undergarments.

Before she could, Luke aggressively flipped her over, grinning in an animalistic fashion as he pinned her down, nipping at her neck as he made his way down her body.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

She pulled, hard, on his hair as his veiny hands pawed at her breasts, not sparing her the pain as he took each of her nipples between his teeth, encouraged by her pulling his hair. He whined hungrily as he moved downward, positioning himself between her legs as he dug his fingers into the soft skin on her thighs.

Luke hungrily bit down on her hip bone as she laughed maniacally. He bit down on her thong, slowly pulling it down with his teeth before taking it off.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” he moaned, burying his face in between her legs with greed as he just breathed her in for a moment. “I’d do anything for you. Fuck me, you’re so wet.”

Katherine sighed as he suddenly latched his mouth onto her clit, roughly massaging her hips as he strategically overstimulated her.

“Fuck!” she hissed, giving his hair a harsh tug as he moaned into her, tongue still lapping at her insides. “I’m gonna rip you apart!” she vowed in anger.

He pinned her down to the bed by her his, grunting crudely as he ate her out. He wouldn’t let anything interrupt him.

“Wrap your legs all the way around. Fuck my face. Let me make you come on my face,” he ordered impatiently, sighing into her as she sucked him into her.

He felt as if she were some sort of violent ocean that he couldn’t help but get sucked into. He flicked his tongue faster and faster, groaning as he felt her thighs shaking around him. His head was completely trapped, not that he even cared. He stayed out, attacking her with his tongue until he felt her finish. Even as she got even wetter, he didn’t stop, reveling in his accomplishments as she pulled on his hair.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and locked on her as she glared at him. When he was finished, he didn’t waste a second. Flipping her over and manhandling her like a rag doll, he made it so that they were both sitting up on the bed, as he slowly buried himself in her, as she still came, losing his mind.

He held her close to him by softly holding onto her throat, his big hand wrapped around her neck for balance. This was essentially his love language.

“Fuck, Luke! Holy shit!” she gasped, feeling how long it took for him to completely bottom out. “Luke…!”

“That’s it,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he lost himself in her, “Let everyone know my name… Please, Katherine, please,” he begged her.

She gasped as he picked up the pace, his cold hand on her neck somehow making her chest feel even hotter. He slammed into her harder and harder, making her groan as she impatiently pulled away from him, lying down as she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him hard.

“I wanna see the stupid fucking look on your face while you fuck me,” she hissed.

“Katherine!” he cried out, almost collapsing on top of her as he lovingly kissed all over her neck. “Fuck. You’re everything.”

“I’m gonna fucking destroy you,” she cooed mockingly as she shoved his face into her neck, her hands resting on his back.

“Go ahead,” he pleaded, “Make me yours. Fucking destroy me, just use me…!”

He moaned loudly as he penetrated, trying to control himself as felt her fingernails digging into his back. He nearly screamed like some sort of horror movie character as she clawed her fingers down his back so hard she started to draw blood.

Luke huffed excitedly as he thrusted in and out of her, completely burying his face in her chest.

“Shit!” he gasped. “Oh…”

He cried out, overstimulated as she scratched up and down his back. He knew there was blood dripping, but hardly even thought about it. He didn’t want to finish yet, but he also knew that he was enjoying being with her too much to really do anything about it.

“It’s okay baby,” she promised him, one hand playing with his hair. “Just come. Come for me,” she whispered.

“Tear me apart!” he hissed. “Fucking destroy me!”

He felt himself fuck like he never fucked before. He thrusted in and out of her so hard, she saw splotches of black as she dug her nails into his muscular back. She sighed as he kissed the side of her neck, refusing to stop worshipping her with affectionate little kisses. Just as he felt her getting so wet he knew she must’ve came again, he moaned softly as he braced himself.

“Luke,” she whispered, mouth agape as he kept going.

“Fuck, that’s so unfair, don’t say my name like that,” he whined.

Reaching a shared climax unlike anything either of them had ever felt before, he pulled out, coming all over her bare stomach with her nails still digging into his back. Panting hard, he collapsed on top of her, continuing his worshiping as he kissed all over her neck.

“Katherine, you’re so beautiful,” he gushed. “You’re a fucking goddess. I don’t deserve you. I love the way you hurt me,” he moaned, falling on top of her.

She appreciated the way he put his full weight on her, sighing in exhaustion as she worked her fingers through his hair. There was come and blood kind of everywhere, but to both of them, it seemed to feel right. That’s what they were together, just come and blood.

“I think I’m in paradise when I’m with you,” she murmured.

“I’d come in my pants if you told me you hated me,” Luke confessed, flipping over beside her to give her some room to breathe.

Sitting up, Katherine momentarily excused the come on her lower stomach as she looked at the old digital alarm clock on the bedside table.

“It’s 7:23,” she told him, her voice still breathy as she realized it was already light out.

“What time did we get in?” Luke asked in confusions staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, 11:48?” she approximated.

“Shit,” he breathed, thinking hard. “Did we just fuck for seven hours?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I think so.”

Luke had forgotten that he was a demigod.

-

Chapter Ten

[hiswordsarekisses]

To the people with hate in their heart: I’m not a political person, but I need to say something. . . There are so many people driven by hatred in this country because of the media’s constant baiting against anything at ALL that can divide people. Race, Trump, all of it. It’s absolutely sickening.

An innocent person died today in the crossfire.

And someone in my feed recently posted that Trump is for abortion now - apparently it was yet another person who has been watching mainstream media and being fed twisted words and lies. What he ACTUALLY SAID was that he wants the authority about killing babies to go to each individual state instead of a nationwide laws like you would find in a DICTATORSHIP like we have NOW!!!!! (It is absolutely ironically that the media likes to call Trump a dictator - the one who fights for the power to go back k to the people. It is absolutely astonishing .

Why do you think this man has been under so much attack when all he wants to do is put the power back k into the hands of the people?

The evil people in government (both republican and democrat and everything in between) is terrified of losing their control and MONEY!! That’s why!!!

Right now we are starving because they want us under their thumb. They want socialism like third world countries.

We had 4 years of good times and groceries and homes, etc - now no one can afford anything.

WAKE UP PEOPLE.

WE DO NOT DESERVE IT BUT GOD THIS MAN BUT HE PROTECTED THIS MAN TODAY!!!!

He left a GOOD AND PROSPEROUS LIFE TO HELP US.

Btw, I don’t know the last time maybe that you read Isaiah 45 - but check it out sometime.

His Immediate response in this horrific situation - where he could have easily died - is the kind of guy I want on my side. He did not cower or even stumble, he thought quick and he showed strength and composure and integrity. This is a picture of strength. This is a picture of a leader.

[pedgito]

hey, im a big fan of your writing. I am also a big fan of Javier Peña, Joel and Din lmao. So can I request a story about either one of those (mostly sfw mainly because im in my feelings) that is more of a hurt/comfort angst? Maybe bottled feelings are freed, a near death experience occurs after a heated confession that didn't go well...? idk I leave it up to you if you want to write it of course. Anyways, again, love love your stories, especially the way your portray Javier. Have a nice week <3

pairing | javier pena x fem!reader

content warning | mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst [2.6k]

author’s note | this screamed javi so hard so i couldn't pass up the opportunity to write some angst for him

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

You’ve been at it for months now, waiting for Javier to finally give in and confess to you what he’s been holding back for so long—he’s so closed off it’s impossible, his back turned to you as he grips the chair shoved into the small dining table tucked in the corner of his apartment.

This was supposed to be a one off job, spend a couple months down in Bogotá with Steve—play alongside him in the hopes of catching Escobar, settling into a mix between the three of you, realizing fairly quickly that Peña wasn’t the type of nice guy you were used to.

He was brazen, straight-forward and a little bit—scratch that, a lot of an asshole, so full of himself that it oozed out. Still, that didn’t stop you from climbing into his bed a week into your stay, breaking the one rule you had.

Never fucking sleep with your co-workers.

Look where it got you; fighting an emotionless wall of stone.

He wants you, but he can’t have you. He doesn’t want to see you with other people, but he can’t stake his claim and call you his—but god forbid you so much as consider eyeing another person, someone interested in showing you the attention you wanted, that you deserved. His jealousy is unmatched, the curl in his lip when he sees you across the room around them, the short and fleeting touches they gave to your arm in passing—from your perspective, a simple gesture between friends, but to Javier, it's a threat.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t try to show you attention—Javier was more than that, all-consuming in a way, passionate to a fault. But, he was not a lover type guy.

Still, you were naive enough to think you could change that.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” You spoke strongly, watching the tilt of his head as looks down, burning a cigarette held between his fingers, “whatever this is—we can forget about it.”

“Yeah—I’m sure the others will have a fuckin’ field day when they catch wind,” Murphy let it slip once and it’s been the constant topic of conversation, playful teasing toward you but torture on Peña who likes to keep things private, always, “always eye fucking you across the room.”

“Who cares, Javi?” You ask, feeling like you were talking to a ghost as he refused to look at you. “You don’t give a shit what’s going on here, why should I?”

And it hurts because you do.

It was innocent at first, one hookup that should’ve ended that night. But, one turned into several and eventually you were spending most night at Javier’s apartment to the extent of grabbing dinner on the way there—or, for fucks sake, cooking for the man. You knew that he loved breakfast in the mornings despite his constant refusal to eat it, how he couldn’t focus without his first cup of coffee and why he kept his gun at his bedside and the spare under the mattress.

He’s got scars, faint but visible when you lay against his chest at night—some from childhood, some not, but you wouldn’t know had you not spent the time with him and watched the vulnerability he showed when it was just you, just him after a long, stressful day trying to catch a terrifying monster and the both of you itching to burn off steam.

“You can’t ask me on a date, can’t—jesus—you can’t even look at me, Javier.” He hears the break in your voice, how hard you’re struggling to keep things together.

And you’re fuming, furious, aiming to hit him where it really hurts. You want him to feel. Feel anything.

“You like to play house and let me cook you meals, act like I’m yours when it’s convenient for you.” He twitches at that, slamming the burnt end of the cigarette into the ashtray. It’s the only real sign of emotion he’s shown all morning. “That’s all you care about. Egoísta.” (Selfish)

He slams the ashtray down roughly, ashes flying over the table. You don’t jump or flinch, not at all fazed by his outburst. You saw it too often during work when things fucked up or didn’t go his way. When he did show emotion it was intense and full body.

“I told you,” He says slowly, turning toward you now, “I don’t do this,” He punctuates slowly, fingering wagging between the both of you, “I can’t do—this.”

Clearly.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The difference is staggering, truly. You wanted an answer.

“You tell me you never want me to leave your bed, your apartment, that you want to keep me here forever because there’s nothing that makes you feel this close to home—and you can’t do this?”

He speaks it against your lips almost every night when he’s pulling you into his chest, pressing those soft lips of his against your forehead and kissing you with a tenderness reserved only for you.

Javier never answers, gaze growing more intense by the second, bound to retreat from the situation before emotions boil over—but you beat him to it, grabbing your bag and storming out without a word.

He’s never had to beg you to stay and he doesn’t realize how desperately he’d wished to ask you until a few hours later, a phone call from Steve that has his heart dropping into his stomach, the equal worry in Murphy’s voice as he relays the information.

Steve mumbles your name—hurt, bomb, Escobar written all over it, dead, so many dead.

You’re lucky to still be standing—or rather alive, forced onto a gurney lined in the aisle of some rundown Bogota hospital where the workers were running rampant, clearly on edge and scrambling to save lives.

It was minor compared to what could have been. A small concussion, some lacerations to your face and a nasty gash on your side that required some stitching. It wasn’t anything some pain medication and bandages couldn’t fix, but in that commotion you had lost all of your belongings, undoubtedly damaged beyond repair. You had been in the shopping center ten minutes prior to the explosion and you were shaken, admittedly, wondering why your life had been spared over so many others.

And you always hear about your life flashing before your eyes during a near death experience, never really believing it until it happens—and selfishly, you couldn’t think about anything but Javi.

He was a nasty parasite, the kind that sucked the life and energy out of you, took everything and gave nothing in return. You knew how he was going into things, knew he wouldn’t budge or change his ways.

But still, there was a hope that maybe he would change.

The first thing you manage to do when you find a phone is call the embassy—anyone who would answer and let them know what happened, but they were miles ahead and already fifty feet deep into investigating.

Carillo is the first to ask if you’re okay, not that it matters—but then Murphy is scrambling for the phone, a soft commotion in the background as he argues with the man until he finally lets up and hands it over.

“God, we thought you were dead. Please tell me you’re alright?” Murphy pleads, sounding just as strained and worried as you’d expect, “All your limbs, nothing missing?”

You laugh softly into the phone, the first breath of life back into after what has been a terrible day. It’s already evening, the day has come and gone and the sun is setting without a trace of anyone coming to help.

Not that you expected it—Javier wasn’t the type to get over things easily.

“Yep. Head’s still attached and everything.” And Steve can appreciate your way of coping, adding a bit of lightheartedness to a dark situation. You release a shaky breath, squeezing the plastic tighter until cracks under your grip, “Is there—I mean, they just discharged me, but I don’t have a ride.”

“Javier didn’t pick you up?” Murphy asks, sounding confused. “I told him—he should’ve…”

He trails off, cursing away from the phone as he speaks to someone distantly, “Which hospital are you at?”

You look around for any indication, reading off an unfamiliar name to Steve as he repeats it, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.

“Shit—Javi’s probably clear on the other side of town from you.” Murphy runs a tired hand through his hair, over his face. “They told us they sent everyone to the one here close by the embassy.”

Everyone.

Families searching for their missing—you couldn’t even imagine it.

“He—does Javi think I’m—“

“Shit, I don’t know. He’s been on edge since he got here this morning, we’ve been trying to figure something out, anything—he left a few hours ago when we weren’t getting answers and I just—did something happen?”

“I think I pushed him too far this morning,” You say softly, huddling closer to the wall as the halls become more crowded, louder and suffocating in a way that has your curling around yourself slightly, mindful of the pain in your side, “fuck, maybe this is karma, Steve.”

“Hey, no—don’t say that shit,” He stops you in your tracks, “Javi is…Javi, you can’t predict anything he’s gonna do. Dude’s a fuckin’ brick wall half the time.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Steve, I don’t have my phone.” You tell him, “Can you just—call him? Let him know. I need to find a cab or someone willing to drive me back to Bogota if that’s even fucking possible. I don’t even have my wallet or badge with me.”

It’s almost like a divine intervention that you hear Javier on the other end, cutting through the flurry of other voices and busy telephones ringing. He’s wrenching the phone out of Steve’s hand before he can get a word in.

“Querida,” He says soft, voice quivering slightly, “Querida, is that you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will yourself to remember how badly things ended earlier in the day, even if they didn’t feel as important now, they were still important to you.

Emotions were high now, but the fallout could be devastating.

“Yes, I’m—Javi, I’m okay. A little banged up and stuff but I’ll survive,” The silence grows as he absorbs the information, “Look, I need to go. I have to find a ride back to town.”

“Don’t move,” He says briskly, suddenly, “Fuck—I mean stay there, no te vayas. I’m coming for you.” (Do not go)

The line cuts before you have a chance to reply.

You love how well he sticks out in a crowd despite how he likes to blend in and not draw attention to himself, but he’s all tanned skin and shiny with a layer of sweat that tells you he probably ran a few blocks to get here.

You did wait, even if it was closer to a half hour before there was any sign of him, despite how upset you still were, you waited.

Of course you did.

His eyes dart around nervously before they land on you, tucked away in a corner as you cradle your side and he’s barreling toward you, scooping you up before you can protest. The small squeak you release has him pulling back like someone stabbed him with a hot brand, brows furrowed with worry.

“My side,” You mumble, shifting his hand away from the wound, watching as it falls helpless to his side again, his gaze lingering over your body, face, seeing the amount of damage you took, “hey—I’m fine, all things considered.”

Javier blinks slowly, rubbing around the side of your jaw, careful of the small bandage covering a nasty cut, that familiar pout growing on his lips. You saw it earlier, but the implication was different.

This wasn’t anger. It was worry.

“Mi amor,” He murmurs, oblivious to the commotion around you both as he looks at you, almost straight through you, “fuck—I’m so sorry.”

You breathe through your nose deeply, shaking your head as you grip his wrist for leverage, pulling him alongside you until you’re outside, away from the crowd of people and alone.

“No, I’m sorry.”

And for once, Javier is surprised.

He knows you always have a comeback poised on your tongue, the will to fight and work through any argument that surfaces, but this is defeat. It’s clear as day on your face in the way it falls, eyes softened to the point of near tears and your cheek covered in a dark bruise that makes his chest hurt.

“I don’t know why I’m forcing you to answer to something you don’t want,” That something in question was you, but it didn’t matter, “maybe we let things drag on too long. I was just—happy, I liked it. I shouldn’t have expected anything from you since you were clear from the beginning.”

Even with Javier being the first to cross the lines he drew himself, asking you to stay that one night and never going back, making mistake after mistake until it stopped feeling wrong and started to seem, well, normal. But, here you were, taking the blame like he had no wrongdoing in any of this.

“Bebita, no.” His voice is low, thumb rubbing a tender spot in the side of your neck, a soft touch that massages the ache in your muscles, head tilting into the touch as you look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Oh, the irony.

“Now look at you,” He says, scanning over your face briefly, “consumes mi mente, nena.” (You consume my mind, baby)

“I can’t do halfway anymore, Javi.” It’s pure honesty, fingers finding his wrist as they wrap around delicate, using his touch as an anchor. “I need all of you.”

“Then have it,” Javier says mindlessly, without thinking and speaking instinct—it’s real, you can see it in the way his eyes widen and soften in the same instance, that pleasing look that entraps you, “tómalo.” (Take it)

The tears that sting your eyes don’t fall, but they rise, blinking rapidly to will them away and force yourself to keep composed despite hearing those words, knowing how deeply he meant them.

“Fuck, I’ll marry you if that proves anything to you, querida.” He’s being over-dramatic, but it has your insides fluttering like wildfire, “I should’ve never let you leave this morning.”

But, he was scared. Terrified of how deeply he felt for you.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Javier explains, “so much I need to tell you but I don’t want to scare you away.”

As if he could.

“Javi, I’m with you.” You tell him steadily, “I always have been.”

Javier laughs through a sigh, breathing through his nose as he smiles for the first time that day.

“We can talk. We will.” Javier nods assuredly, “But, I want to get you home first.”

Home. He means his apartment, but it comes out that way without realizing.

He’s tender when he helps you shower, cleans your wounds up with what little first aid he has, but he manages, helping you dress in what has to be the most vulnerable moment you’ve had since meeting him.

Javier holds you for a long while after that, curled up in his lap on the sofa as he smokes away with his head leaned against the back of the cushion, rubbing a hand over your thigh softly.

“Hermosa?”

You’re nearly asleep by then, rousing with a small hum.

“After all of this,” He trails on, “when we put Escobar away and this shit is done,” He pauses, taking a short drag from the cigarette and blowing it out into the air, “I want you to come back with me.”

“To Texas?”

He nods, squeezing your leg for reassurance.

“I'm terrified of losing you here, but home—I would never let you out of my sight, I could keep you close.”

His trepidation will always be his downfall, but he knows he can’t let you go anymore. He needs you here, he’ll need you after.

“Anywhere you want, Javi. I’ll follow.”

He doesn’t have any reason not to believe you.

“Buena.” (Good.)

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[franzkafkagf]

do you think aegon has read Das Kapital

He has! He even took notes and highlighted the most relevant parts in preparation for his rule. I actually found his manifesto (top secret):

Manifesto of King Aegon II, "The Dragonheart", King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm

Greetings, loyal subjects! It is I, your freshly minted ruler, here to lay down the law of the land like never before. As I sit upon the Iron Throne, I can’t help but notice a few things. Things like, oh, I don’t know, the glaring disparity between the Smallfolk and the Not-So-Smallfolk. So, listen up, here’s my grand plan to make Westeros great, for everyone (except maybe the Lannisters, but that’s just personal).

Article I: Redistribution of Dragons

Dragons are cool and all, but seriously, they’ve been hogged by a select few families for way too long. Henceforth, every region shall receive its own dragon. No more burning down villages or munching on sheep. Dragons will now be used for productive tasks like plowing fields, scaring off bandits, and providing free rides to children on their namedays.

Article II: The Abolition of Serfdom

Serfdom? Nope, no more! It's time to free the smallfolk from their chains. No more being tied to the land like a horse to a plow. Everyone gets to choose their own destiny. Want to be a bard? Go ahead, strum your heart out. Fancy being a knight? Well, good luck finding a horse and armor, but go for it!

Article III: Seize the Means of Production

Let it be known that the true wealth of our kingdom lies not in gold mines or fields of wheat, but in the people. It is the blacksmith who forges the swords, the farmer who tends the crops, and the innkeeper who pours the ale—these are the pillars of our society! Henceforth, all lands and castles shall be seized from the noble houses and redistributed to those who work them!

Article IV: Bastard's Rights

Enough with the discrimination against the innocent children born out of wedlock! From this day forward, bastards shall have the same rights and opportunities as any noble-born child. They shall be allowed to inherit lands and titles if deemed worthy. The stigma against bastards shall be abolished, and their mothers shall be treated with the respect they deserve for their contribution to the realm.

Article V: Universal Healthcare

Healthcare is a right, not a privilege for those who can afford a maester's visit. Henceforth, every village shall have its own maester, and every town a proper septa or septon trained in the art of healing. From the Wall to Sunspear, every man, woman, and child deserves a maester's care without needing to sell a kidney. Healing herbs and remedies shall be distributed freely across the realm. And don’t worry, there will be plenty of moon tea.

[flower-boi16]

Honestly … what is Adam wrong about sinners? I haven't seen a single sinner who deserves to be redeemed, or to be in heaven, everyone is literally a murderer, cannibal, and rapist, and the phrase "this is hell" won't work because Vivziepop and her team want us to root for Charlie, and thought that Charlie was right, and that all sinners deserve a chance at redemption, and heaven, but this is not so. I was watching the episode where Charlie goes to meet Adam and Lute, and where she sang that sinners deserve heaven, help, and such, while the sinners around her were … killing/raping/eating someone, and then Charlie started trying to talk about the problems of sinners, and about their redemption with Adam, do you understand what a comedy it was for me??? Who the hell did this scene? I don't know what the creators expected, that I would agree with Charlie after this scene? Of course, fuck not, in this scene I agreed with Adam and Lute, no, I don’t think that sinners should be exterminated, I’m against it from one extreme to another, I think that some of the sinners really undeservedly went to hell, and deserve redemption, for example such sinners who during their lifetime killed a person in self-defense, sold sex services to survive, killed themselves during their lifetime, because of the complexity of life, or sinners who behaved like shits/or had the wrong opinion during their lifetime, but nothing extreme, and they can be corrected, such sinners and others like them deserve a second chance and redemption, but … problem is that we don’t see such sinners at all, we only see assholes, and Angel, who was a gangster during his life, and perhaps his victims were innocent people, and it’s not clear that he repents of it, or Husk who was an overlord, and who the hell knows what he did with the souls with whom he made a deal, or Niffty who is a pervert and probably killed people, and let’s not talk about Alastor … So I sit and think, what is Adam wrong about? At least he's right about the sinners from Hazbin Hotel

I really think this shows the problem with the show portaying Charlie's mentality as purely right. Charlie's mentality has many flaws but the show never seems to want to call out those flaws, in spite of it being just as black-and-white and heavily flawed as Adam's mentality.

I've already ranted about this so many times so I won't go into detail here, but the thing that killed Charlie as a character was the show's instistance on portaying her mentality as compeltely & inherently flawless, when it's not.