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#we have to stop begging the government and take it into our own hands
greencarnation · 7 months
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I went to an Ilan Pappé talk yesterdays - I really recommend his books if you've not checked them out already. He's arguably one of the worlds leading experts on Zionism and the "Israel"-Palestine conflict, so obviously everything he said was great, but what I want to highlight:
Someone asked him if he thought the protests and petitions and calling you reps and shit would work, and he said no, it never will. It's still important to do that but the powerful will never surrender their power to the powerless just because they ask for it. Asking the UK and the US to cut ties with their imperial outpost in the Middle East is like asking an animal to gnaw off it's own limb - it won't do it unless its only other choice is dying completely.
So who does have the power to put a stop to this, we asked. The working class of the imperial core. That's us, and we are the most powerful people in the world right now, because this war machine can't function without us. Movements like this can only be built from the ground up, so stop looking to the government and start looking to your community. We need to make it more unprofitable to support Israel than it is to cut ties with it.
This is a call to action. The people HAVE the power, and we have to use it. Yes, that's you. Contact your trade union, your workplace, your school, your church, your university. Your friends, family, any connections you have. As many people on board as possible, with one goal: shut it down. Take direct action now.
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bun-z-bakery · 5 days
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can we get some relationship head canons between dogday and angel? Who fell and confessed first? Going by your fic how would Angels friends react? Also maybe some spicy head canons if that's ok? Would dogday be a sub or Dom? How flirty is he? You can also add your own head canons too, I was just curious about what you think for those.
Absolutely! Also plz don't be shy about sending requests I love answering them! I'm very slow so I apologize! Also I have the worst memory so if I already mentioned something in this hc post I did in the previous ones. I'm just super forgetful, sorry!
Plz remember these are just my personal silly headcanons for fun :3
More dogday headcanons woo!
CW: MDNI a few mentions of some spicy stuff ahead, nothing super explicit but you've been warned!
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-Dogday most definitely fell first. He probably started falling for his angel once they gave him his legs back and from there it just snowballed.
-dogday is 100% confessing first. In subtle ways like staying by your side to protect you and helping around the house, lotssss of compliments, and probably being a bit more touchy with angel.
-If Angel doesn't get the hint, he'd just plan out a confession and an at home date with whatever you have.
-so going based on my fic, angel's friends/family would probably either be supportive or try to have some kind of intervention. There is no in between. That's either
“Wow, I'm happy for you!” (is happy you found someone who makes you happy but also slightly concerned)
Or
“Wow, you should really find someone else anyone else, plz we're begging!”
(Is actually VERY concerned / calling the nearest hospital and government officials. )
-Soft Dom dogday anyone?
(Ngl I could probably see Ethan being like “I'm happy pookie but what the actual f*@k is wrong with you?” but just smiling through his state of panic💀)
-If vanilla isn't the type of fragrance you're a fan of or want to wear that day, he will have a collection of fragrances that he likes (and totally didn't buy with our card while you were sleeping) and will douse you in before you step out.
-he's touchy, he just loved the feeling of having his angel in his hands.
-If you have to go out, he'll try to rub his scent all over you and will say it's "just a hug".
-he would want you to wear something with a sun on it, whether it be a necklace, choker, ring, hair clip, orange scrunchie, tattoo, whatever it is, it doesn't matter as long as it's orange or has a sun on it. He can't be there wherever you go so why not take something that reminds you of him? Totally not his way of marking you of course!
-depending on what his angel is into, he'd probably be super hesitant to be rough or say anything degrading, I'd say he leans more into vanilla because of fear but if you're into it and are vocal about it then don't expect him to stop anytime soon if you're enjoying yourselves.
-praises you for how good you're doing. You're really his angel in more ways than one, especially when you're so obedient for him. How could he not praise you? You most definitely deserve all the praise and another round gift.
-on a scale from 1-10 he'd be like a 5 on the flirtyness scale, but would go into a 7, once he starts he won't stop and would most definitely become putty in your hands if you flirted back.
-he would crack dark jokes at the worst times, and he'd probably make some pretty bad normal ones too. A silly guy once he's comfortable around angel and would do anything to make you laugh, even if he had to embarrass himself.
-You're sad? Haha nope not anymore. Look! He's singing while doing cartwheels and failing miserably!
-Was a good cook as a human. He would try to help out in the kitchen and knock some stuff over in the process. To avoid making a mess he'd just hand you the ingredients or utensils.
-He would also try to remember how his favorite meals tasted so he could make and share them with angel.
-not sure if I mentioned this in the past hc posts BUT I could see him wanting to have some sort of wedding to make things “as official as possible”. He'd also want to pick out rings and would wear his ring on a necklace chain, never to be taken off. He doesn't have a need to anyways.
-At some point he has thought of what living as his former self would be like and what your lives together would have looked like. He would bring it up eventually in hopes of taking that weight off of his heart. Of course he's happy with you and what you have now. Doing things together no matter how small or insignificant they may seem they mean the entire world to him. Sometimes he can't shake the thought of how different life could've been though. (We still love him either way <3)
-he would pull the "your husband" card 100%. Need help reaching a high shelf?
"Your husband's got it!"
-he'd be so happy about it too.
-silly, but if someone's looking for you, and you're not home (probably a delivery man or person who stumbled upon your house) he'd most definitely answer from behind the door.
“He's a nice fellow! Take care!”
*delivery man knocks on the door and you answer*
“I came by earlier, but your husband said you weren't home to sign, here you go!”
*you blink in confusion and start to panic*
“Y-you met him!?”
*dogday creeps up behind you and laughs*
“I heard you have a husband. I wonder who he could be…”
A/N: that's all for now! Im glad you guys enjoy my silly stories and headcanons! I do appreciate you all! thanks for reading! 🐇
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lisbeth-kk · 1 year
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Family
Thanks again for doing this @calaisreno and thanks for the tag @keirgreeneyes
What truly matters
In many ways they’re so much alike, in other’s not remotely so. The fact that they’re both the younger brother, is a thing John sometimes finds hard to relate to. In Sherlock’s case, it’s clear as day. Mycroft being seven years his senior, which more often than not seems to be decades, and the way he talks to Sherlock, says it all. 
In their early childhood, Harry was his big sister, and a good one too. That changed when she became a teenager and slowly, but ultimately was determined to ruin her life, drinking herself to oblivion every occasion she got. She stopped being John’s big sister the day John had to manhandle her home from a pub down the street from their home. He was 16, she 19.
When John met Sherlock, John’s parents were long gone, and all the family he had left was Harry. Soon enough, John got acquainted with Sherlock’s arch enemy, aka his brother, who was a bit taken aback with John’s already unwavering loyalty to the little brother of the British Government. 
John wasn’t aware that the elderly couple visiting actually were Sherlock’s parents before he threw them out. Sherlock was embarrassed of their normality, which puzzled and upset John.
Long overdue, the two men in 221B got their heads out of wherever, and became the item everyone assumed they’d been from the very start. 
Apart from Mycroft perhaps.
John started a quest, more earnestly now that he shared Sherlock’s bed. He got even more determined when, to everyone’s astonishment, Greg moved in with Mycroft.
Apart from Sherlock perhaps.
*** 
It’s a lazy Sunday morning. John’ got his arms full of a pliant Sherlock, who purrs satisfied while John pets his hair.
“Sherlock, I’ve been thinking about something,” John begins carefully.
“Have you now? Pray tell, John,” Sherlock murmurs into his neck..
“Well, now that you and I, and Myc…”
“Bite you tongue, John! No mentioning of my brother when I’m naked in bed with you,” Sherlock growls. 
“Shush, now. Just hear me out, love,” John begs and pulls Sherlock in tighter, stroking his back and kissing his temple.
Sherlock sighs dramatically, but nuzzles closer, which John takes as permission to continue.
“As I was saying. We being a couple alongside Greg and Mycroft, I think we should go visit your parents. Lay still, I’m not finished. I’ve only got Harry, and, well you know what she’s like, and I would really like to get to know your parents. You shouldn’t be ashamed of them, because they’re ordinary. Do you know that you say that word as if it’s a malfunction?”
Sherlock rolls on to his back but takes John’s hand in his and kisses his palm.
“You’re too good for me, John,” Sherlock sighs. “I guess you’re right. They’re not getting any younger, and they have pestered both me and Mycroft about bringing our significant others to dinner,” Sherlock reveals.
John props himself up on an elbow and beams down at Sherlock.
“Well, that’s settled then,” John says firmly while stroking fingers over Sherlock’s chest. 
Sherlock rolls his eyes and huffs.
“The things I do for you, John Watson,” he mutters.
“Yeah, I’m awfully demanding, aren’t I?” John answers in a husky voice.
Sherlock’s eyes go dark. He reaches for John and pulls him down for a passionate kiss. Tongues explore known territory and needy whimpers escape them both.
“John,” Sherlock breathes, cupping John’s arse, squeezing, which makes John moan.
“Christ, Sherlock. I need you,” John whispers, and Sherlock acts, claiming and marking John’s body with his own.
***
The visit to the elderly Holmes’s was a success. Mrs. Holmes proved to be an excellent cook, and Mr. Holmes the perfect host. Some bickering between the brothers was inevitable, but it was good-natured without the usual sting. The interesting conversation touched a variety of topics, including some childhood memories regarding Mycroft and Sherlock, which Greg and John appreciated tremendously, the brothers not so much. All in all it was a perfect day spent with people who obviously loved each other. John had instantly felt affection toward Sherlock’s parents. They were  interesting, without the sharp minds of their sons, but it was evident that they loved their offspring dearly.
Greg and Mycroft headed back to London in the evening, while John asked Sherlock if they could stay the night. He felt so at ease in Sherlock’s childhood home. A similar feeling to the one he had the day he entered 221B, in fact. Mrs. Holmes had been over the moon when they asked if they could stay over.
“It reminds me of my Nan’s home,” John mused lying beside Sherlock in his old bedroom.
“And I guess that’s a good memory,” Sherlock prompts.
“God, yes. I used to spend each summer there before she passed. She would bake and cook, just like your mother. The weather was always sunny. Shush, you git. I know it wasn’t, but childhood memories are like that. All my summers at Nan’s were sunny, so shut it.”
John rolls over, kisses Sherlock’s jaw and rests his head on Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock combs his fingers through John’s hair and muses at bit himself.
“It’s been a rather nice day, actually. Mummy clearly adores you and Greg. Father too, I think. It was more relaxing than I thought it would be, and that’s clearly because of you two. When it’s just the four of us, well, you know what Mycroft’s like.”
“I do, but you’re not any better, love,” John chuckles and feels rather than sees the glare Sherlock’s shooting him.
“Anyway. I’m glad you persuaded me, John. Seeing Mummy and Father like this…I can’t seem to remember the last time,” Sherlock finishes.
John pulls Sherlock close, his eyes a bit prickly now.
“Well, what truly matters, sweetheart, is that we can make up for that now. For the rest of their lives, you’ll remember the last time you saw them this happy, yeah?”
“Yes, John. I’d like that. Very much,” Sherlock says and kisses John reverently. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Sherlock,” John murmurs and turns out the light.
Bringing the Holmes family closer was my mission today, and I think it worked out fine.
@totallysilvergirl @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @peanitbear
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Michael de Adder
* * * *
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
February 23, 2024
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
FEB 24, 2024
Two years ago today, Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky made a passionate plea to the people of Russia, begging them to avoid war. He gave the speech in Russian, his own primary language, and, reminding Russians of their shared border and history, told them to “listen to the voice of reason”: Ukrainians want peace.  
“You’ve been told I'm going to bomb Donbass,” he said. “Bomb what? The Donetsk stadium where the locals and I cheered for our team at Euro 2012? The bar where we drank when they lost? Luhansk, where my best friend's mom lives?” Zelensky tried to make the human cost of this conflict clear. Observers lauded the speech and contrasted its statesmanship with the ramblings in which Putin had recently engaged.
And yet Zelensky’s speech stood only as a marker. Early the next day, Russian president Vladimir Putin launched a “special military operation” involving dozens of missile strikes on Ukrainian cities before dawn. He claimed in a statement that was transparently false that he needed to defend the people in the “new republics” within Ukraine that he had recognized two days before from “persecution and genocide by the Kyiv regime.” He called for “demilitarization” of Ukraine, demanding that soldiers lay down their weapons and saying that any bloodshed would be on their hands. 
Putin called for the murder of Ukrainian leaders in the executive branch and parliament and intended to seize or kill those involved in the 2014 Maidan Revolution, which sought to turn the country away from Russia and toward a democratic government within Europe, and which itself prompted a Russian invasion. He planned for his troops to seize Ukraine’s electric, heating, and financial systems so the people would have to do as he wished. The operation was intended to be lightning fast.
But rather than collapsing, Ukrainians held firm. The day after Russia invaded, Zelensky and his cabinet recorded a video in Kyiv. “We are all here,” he said. “Our  soldiers are here. The citizens are here, and we are here. We will defend our independence…. Glory to Ukraine!” When the United States offered the next day to transport Zelensky outside the country, where he could lead a government in exile, he responded:
“The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride.”
That statement echoes powerfully two years later as Ukraine continues to stand against Russia’s invasion but now quite literally needs ammunition, as MAGA Republicans in Congress are refusing to take up a $95 billion national security supplemental measure that would provide aid to Ukraine. 
Instead, Republicans spent the day insisting that they do not oppose in vitro fertilization, the popular reproductive healthcare measure that the Alabama Supreme Court last Friday endangered by deciding that a fertilized human egg was a child—what they called an “extrauterine” child—and that people can be held legally responsible for destroying them. Since the decision, Alabama healthcare centers have halted their IVF programs out of fear of prosecution for their handling of embryos. 
Republicans who oppose abortion have embraced the idea that life begins at conception, an argument that leads naturally to the definition of IVF embryos as children. But this presents an enormous problem for Republicans, whose antiabortion stance is already creating warning signs for 2024. Today a memo from the National Republican Senatorial Committee (NRSC) noted that 86% of the people they polled support increased, not reduced, access to IVF procedures.
The good news for the Republicans is that their frantic defense of IVF means that the media has largely stopped talking about the news of just two days ago, the fact that the man whose testimony congressional Republicans relied on to launch an impeachment process against President Joe Biden turned out to be working with Russian operatives. House leaders have quietly deleted from their House Impeachment website the Russian disinformation that previously was central to their case against Biden. 
But today, as Republican House members remain on vacation, President Biden announced new sanctions against Russia, and Senate majority leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) was in Ukraine, where he challenged House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) to pass the national security supplemental bill. “The weight of history is on his shoulders,” Schumer told reporters in Lviv. “If he turns his back on history, he will regret it in future years.”
“Two years,” Ukraine president Zelensky wrote today. “We are all here…. Together with representatives of Algeria, Argentina, Armenia, Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Brazil, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Croatia, Cyprus, Czechia, Egypt, Estonia, the EU, Finland, France, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Guatemala, the Holy See, Hungary, Iceland, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Kazakhstan, the Republic of Korea, Kuwait, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Malta, Moldova, Montenegro, the Netherlands, New Zealand, North Macedonia, Norway, Pakistan, Peru, the Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Qatar, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Slovakia, Slovenia, South Africa, Spain, Sudan, Sweden, Switzerland, Tajikistan, Thailand, Türkiye, the UAE, the United Kingdom, the USA, Viet Nam, as well as international organisations….”
Slava Ukraini.
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
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aurumacadicus · 2 years
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stuckony, twink tony and mob bosses stevebucky
love love Love your writing as always!
Thank you! Love you too!!
Anyway trigger warning for mention of date rape drugs (not between stuckony). Got kinda zesty at the end so it's tagged lemon but no actual sex. Tony's late-twenties btw he's just very bratty because he knows he can usually get away with it, he knows these boys are wrapped around his finger.
--
Steve and Bucky had taken Tony in after his parents had been murdered by Hydra. They hadn't wanted to, not really, but Peggy had been willing to pull every single favor she had with them--Hydra had people on the government's salary, and while she was trying to weed them out, it was slow going, so Tony would never be safe with them, even in witsec. Her only hope of keeping him safe was putting him in the hands of Hydra's enemies.
"I'll get down on my knees and beg, if that's what it takes. He's my godson, and I promised Howard and Maria I would protect him," Peggy had said, and Steve and Bucky had stopped fighting her, because she'd actually looked like she would do it, too.
Unfortunately, they hadn't bargained for a kid fresh out of college, too beautiful and smart and sassy for his own good and with a horrifyingly woeful lack of self-preservation. Tony blinked up at them with doe eyes when they tried to scold him, stuck his bottom lip out in a pout when they tried to tell him that he needed to be more proactive in staying safe, kept his body language lax and languid when they tried to intimidate him. He was probably the only person in the state completely unafraid of them, and he made sure they knew it.
"You're gonna make people think we're going soft," Bucky complained as Steve went over the report Natasha had given him on her deep dive into whether Tiberius Stone was Hydra or not. He looked Tony up and down like he usually did when he dragged him in from misbehaving and sighed the most put upon sigh he could. "Do you ever buy clothes that fit?"
"You are going soft," Tony scoffed, ripping his arm away from him. "And my clothes do fit. I was clubbing! Painted-on is the style!"
Bucky ignored him, reaching out to wrap his metal hand around the back of his neck instead and holding him still. Tony tried to shove him away again, but Bucky was immovable. "So? What's the verdict?"
"Not Hydra, but definitely an asshole," Steve muttered, scowling a little. "It's honestly impressive what a dick he is. You're lucky Bucky brought you home, sweetheart. Judging by his typical strategy, Stone probably would have drugged your drink and kidnapped you."
Tony scoffed. "You wouldn't have let him keep me long."
"No, but you know how much we hate having to teach civilians a lesson," Steve said, finally looking up from his desk. He narrowed his eyes as he took in Bucky's hand wrapped around the back of Tony's neck. "Is our boy being difficult again?"
"They were having an eighties night at the club and he shoved an entire bomb pop down his fucking throat," Bucky growled, and he shook Tony warningly when he started to look smug. "Should have taught him a lesson right then and there, but it wasn't one of our clubs."
"You like when I show off that I'm yours," Tony huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. "Everyone who looked at you afterward knew that I belonged to you. I should be allowed to have fun!"
Bucky slanted him a sharp look, then looked at Steve, rolling his eyes with a sort of defeated 'what can you do' shrug. "Kinda hard for them to not know you're ours when I basically dry humped you on the dance floor after. Shoulda just spanked you, if you were going to be bratty about it," he grumbled, mostly to himself. He dragged Tony closer to the desk. "Well, Stevie, what should we do with our boy?"
"That's not fair!" Tony exclaimed, offended. "All I did was deep throat a Popsicle!"
"We told you not to get mixed up with Tiberius Stone, and what did you do?" Steve asked, ignoring him. "Let him wine and dine you anyway." He began tidying his desk, putting the papers and pictures into a folder and setting it aside, moving his calendar from the middle. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to punish a brat. Bring him over, Buck."
Bucky towed Tony over obediently, ignoring the way he was squirming and shoving at him. "What's on your mind, babe?"
"Tony's going to bend over my desk and let me spank him until I decide he's had enough," Steve answered simply. "And if he's a good boy, I'll let you eat his ass right here. I'll even let you use my chair."
Bucky gave the back of Tony's neck a gentle but firm squeeze. "And if he's not a good boy?"
Steve's gaze went sharp as he turned it back onto Tony. He was unable to help a smug smirk as he watched Tony's cheeks start to flush with color. "If he's not, well... You were always the creative one when it came to punishments, honey."
"Hmm," Bucky hummed, thoughtful, and watched as Tony finally showed a smidgen of unease, because Bucky was even less likely to fold on a punishment than Steve was, and Steve rarely let Tony get away with it already. "I'm sure I'll think of something as revenge for the Popsicle," he finally decided.
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bluestofblue · 2 years
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You Will Never Understand (Jay Halstead x Female reader)
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Content Warnings:Abortion,Bans,Sexual Assault,Rape,Adult Themes,Cussing,ptsd,guns,drugs,overdose
Summary:A long time childhood friend of Jays comes back into his life,while being involved in a case in the worst way possible,a way Jay wishes never would be true.
Part1
Jays heart shattered and he wanted to break everything in the world,seeing his childhood best friend being one of the few able to be in the questioning room.The case they were working on was to take down a very well known drug slinger who he knew also killed a teenage girl while he used to work with the Chicago Justice before transferring to the Intelligence Unit at the 21st District.
“Fuck it,y’all don’t get it.y’all can never fucking understand how it feels to be a women stuck under a fucking man crying and you fighting,you can’t even fucking move his hands.Laying there crying until he’s done with his fucking demands.” You tell Voight unaware Jay was on the other side of the glass.
“An all I can really say,is fuck this government and its politics.We can’t have abortions now because some dam man thinks he knows better,an thinks it’s okay to tell Women what we can and can’t do with our bodies.They will ban abortions but they don’t ban guns that have a higher statistic kill rate” spitting angrily even though it wasn’t Voight who did anything wrong.
“If it came to it,would you be willing to testify.” Voight’s voice was surprisingly calm and gentle. “You are only one of very few,who are alive to be able to stand up”.
“If that means he won’t do this to someone else,fuck yes I am willing to.I am sick and tired of men like Matthew Garret who think it’s okay to use Women for their own pleasure.I’m sick and I’m tired of our own Government failing us,we are just going back in time rather then going forward” your voice breaks while tears will her eyes.
You turn your head as you wipe your eyes,not wanting someone else to see you cry an make you feel weak.Jay came over pulling you into a hug,even though Jay always tried to act badass and tough at work you could feel his hands slightly tremble in the hug.
“I’m gonna be here,I ain’t going to leave your side and he won’t ever come anywhere near you again I promise that to you” Jay gently stroked your cheek with his thumb,kissing your forehead.He knew you were the type of person to act fought even while something was hurting you,but something like this is more then just a little cut or bruise.
You hugged Jay back and asked if it was okay if you went home and rested and then you could be glad to give a full statement you really just wanted to go take a shower and rest.They agreed that would be the best thing for you and Jay had even be so kind to drive you home,but as you went inside you felt like your blood ran cold an as if your heart stopped.
As your eyes landed on the couch,everything came back into your memory.Matthew Garret on top of you,pushing you down,remembering the way he yelled for you to stay still,covering your mouth having his way with you till you couldn’t move willingly anymore until he was done with what he wanted.The way the cold feeling of his gun rested on the small of your back to keep you from squirming no much.
You made your way into your bedroom,you hated this…you hated your own government for failing you right after this had happened-they banned it so you couldn’t get a abortion.Now you had to have the child that was the outcome of a rape,every time you would look into the eyes of your son or daughter you would always think about that may you held you down and forced you to let you have his way with you.
That’s the thing wrong with the world,men will never understand how it feels to be trapped under them fighting and begging them to stop,but they don’t care.Especially the men now,who think it’s okay to control Women and tell them what they can and can’t do with their own body.
What they truly want is to go all the way back to nineteen fifty,because to them all the fighting we have done to allow women was a mistake.To then we are not humans,we do not have a voice for them-we are only here for their pleasure or whatever the hell they want.
Stripping your clothes off,and turning on warm water from the shower getting in as your hand ran across your stomach out of instinct,your thoughts consumed your head..
How’s my body being banned,before a gun in someone’s hand?I’ll will never understand,how someone’s pro-life all the way,but yet they remain pro NRA.I’ll never understand how a man believes he knows what is right,for a Government so filled with promises to protect sure knows how to fail us all.
Haven’t even been able to,finish a shower you had to rush over and lean over the sink,throwing up everything from that day,feeling shivers and weak like you were gonna collapse.there was only so much a body could psychically take but there wasn’t really to many people now a day to truly care.
Throwing on sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt you curled into bed under the covers,wishing and praying to feel normal again but you already knew the sad through there was never going back,because you were being forced to have the kid of the man who raped you because your own government failed you and the women of the world yet again.
When you woke up that next morning everything became so dark in the world,nothing seemed beautiful.It hurt to get up,it hurt to move but you knew you had to.You glanced over at the drugs your ex left on the nightstand..just because you date someone doesn’t mean it’s not rape-it wasn’t fucking consented,you thought to yourself.
You knew it was wrong to use drugs,especially while you were pregnant but you wanted one thing you could control..one thing they couldn’t-an whatever came out of it..it would be what it was.
—————
Jay could sense something was going on,it only made sense something had been.He had asked to stay with you to be there for you and the baby few months into the pregnancy but you had a sneaking suspicion he knew the truth,that he knew you were using.
While you went to take a bath,Jay had sat up a movie and blankets and snacks,wanting to be able to bring you peace even only for a little.When you had came out you found him curled on the couch reaching out to hold you,his hand had found it’s way to your stomach holding it there protectively.
You had knew Jay sense you were a kid,he has always tried to act tough and badass like nothing to stand in his way,but when it came to you he was softer then ever,he treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world to ever exist,which rarely only few people ever got to experience.
He held you while rubbing your stomach,Jays voice was softer then you had ever heard it and it was laced with love and compassion.
“Please tell me what’s going on inside your head,you have been worrying me so much lately and I just wanna make sure you are okay” his voice was quit,as he kissed the top of your head respectfully.
You felt like your body collapsed into him,for the first time in a long time you genuinely felt safe,feeling tears form in your eyes though while still trying to see like you were fine.
“Please understand I’m trying my hardest,my head is a mess but I’m trying regardless.Anxiety is one hell of a problem,the what’s if’s latch on and drown you into a pit of darkness” you feel your voice crack and your body tremble against his.
Jay would see and be apart of it all,the good and bad days,the nightmares and the smiles.He was the best person you could ever ask for and the best boyfriend.He was always there no matter what without judgement,he was trying so hard to get you clean,he knew you didn’t know he knew but he did,he was a detective after all he knew all the signs of usage.
Jay watched as you fell asleep on his arms,he thought about every single moment with you from kids to now,from the good times to bad.To watching you put tons of cigarettes in your mouth and then up your nose trying to laugh and joke about it,he didn’t know what it was but he knew there was something different then other girls when it came to you.
But the worst day of Jays life would come that next morning when he found you cuddled into his side,overdosed and not breathing.
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sunshine-luca · 1 year
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follows X
Luca smoothed his slightly sweaty palm down his thighs, over the thick woollen pleats of the O’Riain kilt he wore. It felt a little strange to have his knees exposed out in the cool highland air but thick socks and his usual boots kept the rest of his legs warm just as a thick sweater protected the rest of him from any chill.
He trudged over the worn but still rocky path, just half a step behind Ryan where he clung to Ryan’s tattooed hand like a lifeline. In an odd way, this place felt familiar. Deep in his bones, like his soul was sighing with relief to be back there yet Luca knew he had never stepped foot on this part of the estate before.
“So, if we’re getting married in Italy, why are we doing a handfasting too?” he asked in an effort to distract himself. It was midmorning and the day had dawned bright but fog was steadily building and pressing in on them. Luca had worried about a storm as they left the safety of the house, but Ryan had only pressed his lips to his temple and told Luca not to fret. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. I’m just… curious, I guess?”
Ryan stopped on a ridge. Ahead of them, the path continued, falling away sharply down the side of the hill. There was nothing out here, just the wind howling through the peaks and tufts of wild heather waving among the lichen covered mounds that dotted the harsh landscape. It was barren and wild but Luca loved it.
He paused beside Ryan, studying the line of the older man’s stern profile before following his line of sight to the valley below. There, silent in the greying light stood tall, dark, blurred shapes in a misshapen circle.
Luca’s breath caught. The stones.
“The laws of the highlands are different here,” Ryan finally answered. It wasn’t the first time Luca had heard him mention something like this. On some distant level, he had realised it the first time he had ever stepped foot in this wild part of Scotland. The old ways were still prominent here, the laws of the national government held sway only on a surface level, a thin veneer to the outside world to afford them the autotomy to continue as they did without interference from outsiders.
On the outside, the estate was a grand old home, the villages surrounding them quaint and quiet - But Luca had been in the room when a man had shown up in Ryan’s study, demanding justice for his family. Luca had seen Rourke and the others that followed his lead met out that begged for justice in blood and fire. There were no courts, police here looked the other way and the Laird and Lady O’Riain’s words were law. It was eye for an eye as a way of life and payment and punishment were harsh but loyalty was blood – and forever.
“Only our own traditions truly matter,” Ryan continued. He glanced sideways at Luca, squeezed his hand as he lifted their joined palms and kissed Luca’s knuckles. “Binding ye to me in the stones makes ye my wife. My love. My partner - and all that comes with it.” He lowered their hands, his blue gaze falling to the stones again. “No’ too late to back out now, darlin’.”
Luca inwardly took note of the way his ass still ached and his body was marked all over - how his heart had never felt more full and he had never felt so truly at home.
This man was the reason Luca existed. His purpose. If he wasn’t at Ryan’s side, Luca didn’t want to live. “Are you kidding?” Luca snorted as he shook his head and threw Ryan a wry smile. He appreciated the last-minute offer of freedom but he had been Ryan’s from the moment their eyes had met across the room. “Ry, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole fucking life. I love you. I think I’ve loved you and searched for you before I even knew you existed and I-“
Luca’s gaze snapped back to stare at the stones. The sense of familiarity washed over him like a wave once again. Echoes of a dream, or a memory, he wasn’t sure but he clutched at Ryan’s arms as the wave of dizziness threatened to take him.
“There, love,” Ryan murmured, like he knew just what Luca was feeling. Like he had been expecting it.
“Ry?” Luca whispered shakily. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”
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indefatigablepaths · 5 months
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My computer needs better ideas. So. Ok. This idea makes no sense. You believe you can form a group of people that do nothing, for everything. Hm. This isn't the stock market, but it is. See a stock market determines what products are stocked on your shelves. Still, we believe this is not an easy long term investment. Also we believe this has nothing to do with food. See the world is flat, except the worst part. You can't even try to cause a car accident on a hill. Still whenever you talk about stocks you say let's do this as if we want to jump a car off a hill under the train tracks and hit a car. That's your strategy. Then quick but a new car, and these fines you recommend are good as well. At this point you're just insulting me. The stock market losses are good as well. Ok. Nevermind talking with you. Hypothetically it's until you lose everything forever or never invest once. You need to take your losses forever. That's my best advice. Anyways. Not anyways. In a commune we have limited opportunity for work, and we do not support reasonable work. It is implied wink wink we are a commune. Like if you ask to support yourself be reasonable as an independent. I don't like the girls or boys in my family. No. No work. No government aid. See commune. You can't move on or forward because commune. For example. No one has money for rent. You're looking at vindictive souls mad you can have a room. Well the commune didn't want to do positive and clean itself. See capitalism is what happens when we produce a product for the stock market. Obviously no one here produces their own product. So how does one not be in a commune when your society as a whole can not participate in labor. Let me just make this clear. No one took the baby dollars, and also was able to afford to work a job the stock market supplies for regular people. See your strength is your weakest link and you have no weakest link. You actually created a commune which does not support work. We support begging. So I think. Let's stop begging. Let's do a little work. No. No. This is not an opportunity. How are you even alive. Do a little work stop begging. No opportunity. No I know at best a social network took over a low income branch of distribution. Then you said police go away no free donut hand outs here. You are fat with donut. Why can you not see. He is fat with donut. Do you believe he sent his other members to work for herself? See this isn't adding up. You can not even match the drivers to a database. See no one is safe. Your commune has no computer ID for safety or money anywhere. You are supporting actual murder for work theory. See now I can't work. To much risk. So see behavior of commune is break computer break communication. Tell if try try bad call police because commune good for one persons. Still not dead. See not making sense. So you are so confused by labels you do not know where your country is. Could I try. No. That is a country. Could I try, no. You have this much room to try. Then no. There is no space here to try. So no time. See police. The police are called when no one has any time left. Look crisis forever. The last of the orcs really. They never die. Even when they always die. My skin is green because I can L out of nothingness. Hypothetically can you be alive and go to work. No because the police are dead. Now you fight police for money. What I'm saying is your supposedly capitalism society has no choice but to make work possible. You can't ask people to cry to work. Oh I worked but we all cried and died because work makes no sense. Technically at these rates let's be clear. I can not pay the government. See the government must distribute money to low income workers to make money, as a whole. Your strategy is lazy. There is no incentive to even pretend we should continue. See strength is not an opportunity we as a body ever changing can afford, we lost our strength. We did, we all did. So you too must lose your strength.
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 2 years
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Someone on r/Disability asked when “Handicapped” became an offensive word (and I went into Nerd!Mode and wrote out the whole history).
And it’s a better fit for here:
I used to be confused about why "Handicap" became offensive, too (as I remember it, the movement to stop using it started picking up steam in the early 1990s). And then, a few years ago, I went on a deep dive into the history of it for part of a book I was working on (My main source for this info was an article in an academic journal I found online that's now behind a paywall {sigh}).
But this is what I remember. I love it as part of word history, because it says so much about how we perceive things, and how we choose the words we do.
Anyway:
The Folk History of the word says that's because it comes from the phrase "Cap-in-Hand" -- in other words, begging, and gives the suggestion that the only thing disabled people are good for is begging.
The true history of the word is that it started out associated with sports (Golf, and Horse Racing) and referred to an extra difficulty the stronger competitor had to deal with in order to even up the stakes for the weaker competitors.
Around the turn of the 20th century, it started being applied to children with intellectual impairments, and framing their lives as being burdened by their limitations. It might have started out as neutral at the time, but it quickly morphed first to a term of pity porn, and a derogatory term (The children are burdened by their impairments, and they are, in turn, a burden on Society).
At the end of World War 1, the word "Handicap" began to be applied to all disabilities, especially to the wounded soldiers coming back from the War, and applying for government assistance. And then, the military system spread to the civilian sector, and the way states ran their welfare systems.
And so, by the middle of the 20th century, the word "Handicap" came to be associated with bureaucracy and having to submit to "experts" examining us, to decide how much help we deserve, and how many hoops we have to jump through to get it (some things never change). And so that feels like begging with "Cap in hand," even if that isn't where the word actually comes from.
And then, by the '90s, the "Social Model of Disability" began to take hold -- that's the idea that we're not only disabled by our own impairments, but also by how our society is built (lack of accessible housing, inflexible employment requirements, etc.) and the word "Handicapped" implies that our impairments are burdens we carry for ourselves, and "Disability" doesn't.
So that's why the consensus was gradually reached that "Disability" was the better word.
(Sorry this got long; I'm something of a word and history geek)
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Love in a Hopeless World
A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I’m back with another fic for you! This was one of the options given to me.
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Pairing: Chris Redfield x Male reader
Requested: @evansphnx12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: NSFW, smut, bottom male reader, sir kink, degradation, creampie, size kink, Choking kink, breeding kink, masturbation, and all characters are above the age of 18+
Word Count: 2355
Summary: Its turns out there weren't that many supplies in the old abandoned campus. So, you and Chris have to go deeper into the city to find more but during the little scavenge, Chris began to dirty thoughts...
I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it’s bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!
If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?
Keys:
M/n: Male name.
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[1]
[2] YOU ARE HERE
DISCLAIMER!: I never played or watched any gameplay of the resident evil series. And this doesn’t follow any of the resident evil timelines, it’s on its own.
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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES
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Previously...
Then y'all had another round of hot steamy sex. And the others at the base had a hard time sleeping that night.
«••••••••••••••»
Your eyes twitch at the unpleasant light hitting it directly. 'It's morning already?' you moved around only to feel wet sheets. 'What happened last night?'
Then you felt a body move and a muscular arm grab you, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth, and muscular chest pushed against your back.
'Oh! That's right!' now you remembered why you were all sticky and sleeping against Chris. 'I had sex with my superior! But he felt the same.'
Then you felt Chris move around and waking up. "Hey, baby boy," Chris said with a raspy and deep voice. "Morning." you pressed your lips against his.
"If you continue, we may have to repeat what we did last night, baby," Chris growled as pulled back, gripping your waist. You smirked before getting up.
"Come one, we have to get ready. We have important business," you said. "Ugh, can't we just sleep in and have some... Fun?" Chris complained.
"I know you haven't had sex in 5 years but we need to go get those people. We'll have fun at the end of the day," you said stressing your muscles and popping your back.
The bed creaked meaning he finally got off his ass to get ready. "We need to go get those survivors. And scavenge for more supplies," you said putting your armor on and fixing it up.
After you both got your gear and weapons, you both walked into the main area with all the others.
Everybody looked at you both and immediately looked at way. There was awkwardness in the room. 'They must have heard me last night!' Hell! maybe the whole city heard it is quiet
"Uh,- sir... We have a situation." one of the soldiers said. "shot." Chris said. "Well... it turns out there weren't that many supplies found on the campus. We need more supplies if weren't gonna go get those survivors." the soldier said
You heard listening but your mind began to wonder. You still couldn't let go of the past, you remembered one of your siblings was accepted into MIT. This was 3 months after the Raccoon City Incident.
You would see on the news- Raccoon City survivors being discriminated against by the American people. "Hey, what do I keep saying?" Chris said next to you. His conversation was done.
"Stop thinking about the past, it's long gone," you replied, mimicking his voice. Chris laughed, "Okay, baby. But we need to go get those people."
You nodded but kind of chuckled at the fact that he didn't want to do anything today but now wants to do business.
"Come on, M/n! We have to get going. EVERYONE, protect the base at all cost." Chris commanded. "YES SIR!" they all said at the same time.
You, Chris, and a few others left the confines of the base. Even though it was morning, the sky still had a grey color to it. You open the door to the back seat and closed it.
"We should be there in 20 minutes or less." the driver said starting the engine up. "Alright, let's go." the armored car pulled out before driving down the messy road.
It wasn't long before you reached the waterfront. You could see the skyline perfectly, most buildings were on the verge of collapsing. Others were burnt to where the wall showed the skeleton.
Up ahead, you saw a bridge leading into Cambridge was destroyed. 'Longfellow Bridge.' You have been to Boston before and got to explore everything before the world went hell.
The ride continued for a while. There was nothing or anyone in sight. You could see the freeway ahead but like all other ways leading into Cambridge was destroyed.
"We're closing in on Bunker Hill. They said they are taking refuge by the monument." one of them said.
And wouldn't you know it? In the distance, you could see the tall granite obelisk peaking out. It kind of looked like the one down in D.C. but this one is still standing.
What you meant by "This one is still standing" is because the capital was hit by a nuclear warhead, along with other cities across the US.
The President and other government officials were evacuated and the countries important documents were evacuated as well. So, the legacy of the US would still live.
That means the President is still alive and is in some remote area devoid of zombie life.
"I see some people! They appear to be walking around." one of the soldiers said. And the people seem to notice us because they were waving at us.
"Stop the car," Chris said, the car stopped. He and others got out. Two of the survivors looked familiar? Like you have seen them before. They both were tall and had beards.
They walked up to y'all. "Please, are you here to rescue us?" one of them pleaded. "Yes, we're here to take you to our temporary base," Chris said.
They all smiled and some hugged each other. Chris ordered the soldiers to help some things and you approached the two survivors. "Why do you two look familiar?"
One of them laughed and smiled. "Well...- are you fan of Captain America and Thor?"
Your jaw dropped and your eyes widen. "No. Way. You're Chris Evans and Hemsworth!" you were lost at speech. "I thought y'all was dead! I- how-"
"Well, we survived! I'm not too sure about the others though..." Chris H said with that thick Australian accent. You both were just talking, unknown to Chris R was glaring holes into your head.
After y'all returned to MIT Dorms, you still talked with Chris E and H. You didn't even acknowledge Chris R's glares.
He was getting more and more jealous. 'I hate those two!' Chris yelled in his mind. They were taking your attention from him.
"We have to go M/n! We need to find supplies." Chris yelled at you. 'What's wrong with him?' you thought to yourself. "Bye guys!" You waved at the two Chris.
"He was fun to talk to." Chris H said and Chris E agreed.
«••••••••••••••»
TIMESKIP (To Supermarket)
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You and Chris arrived at the market. There were some abandoned cars in the parking lot. "Come on." You both walked to the doors and opened them.
The place was absolutely trashed. Lights flickering, aisles tipped over, some cans on the floor - also money, which was useless-, and the roof caved in on the left side.
"Look for non-perishables. Canned food would be good and find any water- if there is any that is." you nodded your head before going down one of the aisles.
There were some canned foods but no water. The smell of a rotting corpse filled the air, you could hear flies buzzing. "Ugh." you covered your nose and looked at the rotting corpse. "Poor bastard..."
Meanwhile, Chris was looking for the same stuff, but he was still bitter about you talking to those guys. And completely ignoring him. He could already imagine your punishment.
He could imagine you begging for more, feeling the tightness of your ass wrapped around his cock. 'Shit.' Chris was getting hard. His cock was feeling restricted by the tight pants.
"Hurry up, M/n!" Chris yelled from the other side of the store. "Okay!" you finished gathering anything you could find. 'Why are we leaving early? We have few more places to loot/raid.'
You left the aisles and made your way to the front doors. "Come on, we have to go." you both we made went to the vehicle and drove back to base.
You had found some supplies. 15 canned foods, and some water as well. It wasn't much, but it's something.
«••••••••••••••»
TIMESKIP (Arrival at the base.)
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You and Chris arrived at MIT. You were gonna go talk with Chris E and H, but Chris R wasn't having it.
"Hey-" Chris grabbed your hand and began to rush to the room. Everyone knew what was gonna happen. 'Ah, shit- there gonna go at it again.'
At the room, Chris pinned you against the wall and latched his lips onto yours. The kiss rough, his much larger body pushed against yours shows the difference in size.
His tongue pushed against your teeth telling you to open them. You slowly pushed your mouth, Chris immediately pushed his tongue and invaded your mouth.
"Mmm-" you moaned into the kiss as Chris began to grip your ass. "Up." He growled into your ear. You wrapped your legs around his waist and continued to make out.
He lifted you and carried you to the bed. He slammed you onto your back before pulling away and attacking your neck. "A-ah!" Chris found your sweet spot.
"You belong to me, M/n! I claimed you that night we had sex last night!" Chris growled. "Strip." he quickly removed his clothes, leaving him in his boxers.
You could see the outline thick meaty cock. "You got hard from just kissing me?" you laughed. "You don't talk me like that! You're the slut here." Chris growled as he gripped and slapped your thighs.
You whimpered under the touch. "Look at you, whimpering under me. And your pathetic cock got hard from me hitting you. But let's see what this ass has to say." Chris said as he put your legs on his shoulders
You then felt his thick slicked fingers at your entrance. One finger slips in, your muscles immediately clenched at the invader. "M-mm." you gripped the sheets as his finger pushed deeper.
Then a second finger went in. You clench even more as it did a scissor motion. "Aagh!" you felt his fingers touch the bundle of pleasure. "You're ready."
Chris pulled his fingers out to see your hole doing a grabbing motion. 'Fuck... that's hot.' Chris threw his head back while jerking his cock. "Can't wait to pound this slutty boipussy."
You felt his fat tip push past your tight ring. "Mmm... C-Chris!-"
Smack
"YOU DON'T CALL ME THAT! You didn't learn from last time? You. Call. Me. Sir. You got that?" Chris growled/yelled. "Y-yes, Sir... It's just that... You're so big..." You whimpered.
Then with one Thrust, Chris pushed his entire cock inside. "See? You're taking all 12 inches of me! Fuck, so tight..." Chris groaned. His cock was touching your prostate.
His thick meaty cock filled your insides perfectly. Like you were made for each other. "Y-you're... splitting m-me... in two!" you moaned as you felt it throb and twitch.
"P-please... fuck me... make me your slut." you begged. Chris smirked before snapping his hips.
He began pounding into you. His big cum-filled balls smacked against your ass as he thrusts harder. "S-sir! Y-you feel... s-so good!" You moaned as you threw your head back and gripped the sheets tighter.
"You think those guys can fuck you like I do?! Only I can give you this pleasure, only me!" Chris growled as he thrust harder, hitting your prostate repeatedly.
You used the last of your strength to get up and wrapped your arms around Chris's neck. You clawed his back as he thrust more, you were sure those were gonna leave marks.
"Maybe those guys can give me more pleasure," you smirked at your fake statement. You heard a deep growl as Chris dropped you on the bed and flipped you onto your stomach.
"You fucking slut! Only I can give you this much pleasure! Those guys don't deserve you. Bet their cocks aren't as big as mines." Chris growled as he gripped your hips.
Sounds of skin-slapping and balls slapping against your ass filled the room and the others in the building had to hear it. The walls weren't soundproof.
Your cock was twitching, ready to release a load. "You're about to cum without me touching you! Well, I'm -FUCK- about to cum too." Chris groaned as you tighten around him.
"P-please... give me... y-your load!" You moaned as you arched your back to give Chris more access. "Want me to fill this slutty ass with my cum? Gonna... cum... soon!"
After 5 more thrusts, Chris reached his breaking point, and so did you.
"FUCK! I'M CUMMING! CUM WITH ME!" Chris groaned, he wrapped his hand around cock stroking it before you released it all over his hand. That was enough for him.
"FUCK!" you felt his cock twitch before pumping his hot load inside, filling you up to the brim.
*Breathing intensifies*
Chris collapses onto the bed right next to you with his cock still inside. You felt him pull out with his cum leaking out. "I'll never leave you for those two. My heart only beats for you," you said sincerely turning over to face him.
"I'll never leave you too. We'll be together until our time runs out." Chris said pulling you into a kiss filled with passion and love.
'There is still Love in a Hopeless World.'
THE END.
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A/N: Finally this is done! I hoped you enjoy this, by 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!
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Surprises (Sweet Betrayal Part 2)
Part 1     Part 3     Part 4
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: swearing, alcoholism, abuse (physical and mental), depression, suicidal thoughts
Word count: 3,587
A dash of madness is what’s needed to get things done. It was the thing that caused Manberg to rise from the ashes of its terrible leadership prior to Schlatt, and it was going to be the thing that fixes the aftermath of the meddling of your ‘brothers’. At least that's what you thought on the matter. 
It was a bit hard to form rational thought when reminders of your brothers were everywhere. The buildings that stood populating the city were built by them. The dents and scratches on the wood of the stage were caused by them. Your bloodstain on the concrete was caused by them. The burn scar that took up half of your face and the now clouded blind eye was caused by them. You couldn’t even look in the mirror without being reminded of them; it was like they followed you everywhere you went. Tormenting you with every step you took. With every breath you took you were breathing in the same putrid air they breathed. The air would be purified once you were done with them. 
The only person you actually trusted nowadays was Schlatt. Oftentimes he would yell at you in a drunken rage, telling you that you were useless and undeserving of love. His words hurt you unbelievably, but he would always apologize in the morning. He had hit you occasionally leaving bruises and a fear of anybody moving too fast, but he had always apologized to you so you brushed it off. He was the first person that had shown you actual love after all. He was still the loving man he was before the presidency. 
He would do the same to your other father Quackity. You both comforted each other after he would do that. He confessed to you one night through tears that you were the only thing tethering him to his marriage with Schlatt. It was something you couldn’t understand; why would he ever want to leave Schlatt when he would apologize to you two every single time? It wasn’t like he could control his alcoholism. It had a grip on him that he couldn’t shake. 
You weren’t there when Quackity had killed Schlatt, as you were roaming the streets of Manberg at the time, but you were there when he ran into you in a panic. 
You were walking past Niki’s deserted bakery with a skip in your step and a smile on your face. The sight of the broken glass and the looted remains of the building took away most of the stress that living in and governing Manberg brought you. The citizens and the cabinet had grown distrustful of you and Schlatt, making it hard for you to get any work done. You had taken up most of the responsibilities of the presidency due to Schlatt falling off the deep end with his alcoholism and truth be told everything was stressing you out. You needed to keep smiling, you’re never fully dressed without one. 
You came to a halt in front of the bakery, your hand reaching up to graze the scarred skin on the right side of your face. The once relaxed smile that gently stretched your lips turned strained. ‘Don’t cry, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!’ A soft voice sang in your mind, his light laughter reminiscent of happier times. He would not be happy with the path you’ve taken. Oh well, you liked who you were now; he just needs to put up with it when you see him again.
Your thoughts were interrupted by something, or rather someone, colliding with you. You were about to fall onto the glass-strewn pavement before someone caught you and pulled you into a tight embrace. You couldn’t see who it was, but their jacket smelled like a mixture of blood and cologne. Their shoulders were bouncing as they sobbed into your shoulder. Papá?
You felt his wings embrace you fully, much like they did during the festival. You awkwardly rubbed his back until he calmed down enough to pull away from you. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, face blotchy, and a swollen lip graced his face. Your dad was probably just drunk again. 
You tried your best to smile at him gently, the smile threatening to falter. “Papá? Is Dad drunk again?”
“We have to get you out of here, mijo.” He tried to grab your hand to pull you with him but you moved it out of the way. You needed to know what was happening. You didn’t like not knowing what was happening.
“Why do you have blood on you, where are you bleeding?” Schlatt’s never made you or Quackity bleed before, so this was new. He was probably drunker than he usually was. 
You watched as his dark brown eyes flicked down to his bloodied hands and clothes before they flicked back up looking more panicked. “It’s not mine. C’mon, we need to get out of here.”
This time, he firmly grabbed your hand and started to pull you towards the borders of Manberg. Towards Pogtopia. You weren’t ready to enact your plans for the brothers yet, so you dug your heels into the ground. That didn’t stop the man, in fact he pulled you close to his body and spread his wings to take off into the cloudy sky. Before he could, you pushed him away. 
“Papá, who’s blood is it?” You already knew, your voice was shaking and the smile had completely faded. Surely, he couldn’t be dead again, right? Quackity’s face told you all you needed to know. Schlatt was dead. 
Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you whispered “what happened?”
“He- it doesn’t matter. Come with me, I’m leaving this place,” he spat out the last word with hatred. “It isn’t too late for you, Pogtopia-”
“Pogtopia? You’re seriously going to that pathetic excuse of a ‘country’?” You barked out a somewhat forced laugh, the smile finding its rightful place on your face. “Are you stupid? Why would you ever leave a nation as prosperous as Manberg?”
“Can’t you see? Look around you, this nation’s crumbling under Schlatt’s rule! How is that ‘prosperous’?”
“Did you hit your head or something? Our nation’s thriving under Schlatt’s leadership!”
“He isn’t even fucking leading! All he’s doing is getting drunk off his ass having you do all the dirty work! He’s using you, (y/n).”
“Shut the fuck up Quackity,” he flinched back slightly at the use of his first name being thrown about, “Dad’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you, you’re so stupid to just throw him away when he needs us the most.”
He put his hands on your shoulders and gripped them tightly to avoid you ripping yourself out of his grasp. He looked you dead in the eyes with the most sincerity you’ve ever seen from someone. “(Y/n), we tried to help him. We did our best, but he’s too far gone. He isn’t the person we knew; the presidency no, this nation, changes people. If you stay, he’s gonna… You have to come with me to Pogtopia. Your brothers-”
“They aren’t my brothers.”
“-Wilbur, Tommy, and everyone else that used to live in Manberg is on their side. You’ll get killed if you stay.”
You tilted your chin up and looked down at him with cold eyes and your signature smile. “Then so be it. I will see to it that anyone cowardly enough to run when things get the slightest bit tough will be taken care of,” his grip on your shoulders loosened for a moment in shock at your words. That was all the time you needed, you ripped yourself out of his grip and turned to walk away leaving the devastated man in your wake. You stopped and turned your head to look at him through the corner of your good eye, “I suggest you run as far as you can, P- Quackity. It would be a shame if I had to kill you if you stayed a second longer. Get the hell out of my nation, traitor.” With that you turned back around and started walking again. After a few seconds, you finally heard him move. 
“I’ll be back for you, I promise. I-I love you, mijo.” You heard the ruffling of feathers and the batting of wings behind you as he left Manberg. The smile on your face was wobbly and weak as tears started to slip out of your eyes. You took a second to compose yourself before you broke off into a sprint towards the White House, passing a few Rutabagaville members and Badlanders stopping to look at you in confusion. Your dad needed you.
After that, you slowly began to question Schlatt’s words, especially when he was drunk. Now that you paid attention, he never said that he loves you anymore. He only had you do his work, the only things he would talk to you about anymore was about the upcoming war and how useless you were as he berated the paperwork you had no idea how to do. There were no more talks about how you mattered, no more side hugs, hair tousles, or soft headbutts, nothing. Maybe he was using you after all. 
So here you were, standing in front of his office with a shaking hand hovering over the oak doors. The smile on your face was incredibly forced, feeling painful for holding it for so long. Just as you mustered the courage to knock on the ram hybrid’s door, it swung open to reveal the hybrid himself.
Your father was swaying on his feet as he looked at you in surprise, “I thought I gave you the night off. Ender, can’t even get your own schedule right? Why’re you even working for me?” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and it reeked. You shrunk in on yourself slightly eyeing the bottle in his hand. The last time he yelled at you he smashed you in the head with it. You forgave him obviously, but it left you with fear whenever you saw a glass bottle in his hand. It happened only last week shortly after Quackity left. The gashes it left on your face and head were still healing. 
Since Quackity left and he went through yet another death, Schlatt had become more irritable, paranoid, and violent. He started yelling at and hitting you more, crying and begging afterwards for you to forgive him. He promised that he’d never do it again, but he always did. You always forgave him in the end because he was the only one that loved you and the only one that you actually talked to anymore. You craved any type of physical touch from your adoptive dad at this point, you didn’t care if it was violent or not. Any touch was a happy touch.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you Dad, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me tomorrow for my birthday.”
“Birthday? BIRTHDAY?” He barked out a drunken laugh, his words slurring together. “You want me, the leader of a nation during a fucking war, to take a second off just because of one day that never should’ve happened?”
You fiddled with your fingers and shuffled your feet, struggling to keep the trace of a smile on your face. You couldn’t lie, that one stung a bit. If you didn’t know any better, you’d compare it to how you were treated at your previous family’s home. You’d never compare Schlatt to those cowards though. He was far better than them. “I’m sorry Dad, but I just thought that I’d celebrate it this year, I’m turning six-.”
“Awe, is it gonna hurt your wittle feewings if I told you that I don’t care? Wake up, (y/n). We’re in the middle of a war. We don’t have time to celebrate anything. You and I are working tomorrow. Now get out of my face before I fire your sorry ass for unprofessionalism and misconduct.”
“Okay, goodnight Dad. Love y-” before you could finish, the door was slammed in your face. You could hear him laughing and mumbling incoherently to himself from behind the thick oak doors. Sighing, you turned around and walked straight into your office. You took out a rope from your desk drawer and stared at it blankly. 
It’d be so easy to off yourself again. If you made the noose properly unlike last time, your neck would snap and you’d be killed immediately instead of slowly suffocating. No one would stop you, no one would care. Schlatt would. He loved you like you were his biological kid. You fantasized that as you were about to jump off your desk that he’d open your door and attempt to apologize before he would realize what was going on and comfort you. He’d hold you like he did before he won the election telling you that your life mattered. You’d give anything for that to happen, but in the deepest darkest corner of your mind you knew that it’d never happen. He’d just drown himself in alcohol not realizing what’s happening in the room down the hall. Hell if anything, Karl would be the one to find your hanging corpse as he had a meeting with you first thing in the morning.
Besides, you had to live to carry out your plan to murder Tommy and Wilbur. You obviously wouldn’t be able to kill Philza or Technoblade because the former is immortal and the latter is, well he’s Technoblade (though you have been talking to Dream more lately. Maybe you could ask for a favor). That didn’t worry you; they’d probably kill you on sight once they’ve heard that their precious boys have been brutally murdered by you. You didn’t care if they killed you afterwards, your mission would be complete. It’d be a devastating blow to the family (if you could even call it that at that point, it’d be just father and son), something that’ll take them a while to recover from. 
You put the rope back into your desk drawer and curled up onto the couch you had in the corner of your office. Wrapping yourself in the blanket you kept in a filing cabinet drawer, you quickly passed out.
The next day felt just like another day. You woke up, put on your suit, and started on some paperwork that you had to complete before the end of the day. You didn’t feel any different, it was just another day of trying to keep this nation afloat during wartime while juggling two jobs at once. Schlatt was right, your birthday was just another day. You felt silly for confronting him about it last night. It was stupid of you to do, all you could hope now was that he’d forgive you.
A knock on the door made you look up and plaster a smile onto your face. “Come in.” Karl’s messy mop of brown hair came into view before he did. Like usual, he had a dopey grin on his face and was wearing that ender awful hoodie. You hated that hoodie, it was unprofessional to wear in such an important government building. It looked like he was wanting to say something, he looked slightly anxious. Looking back down at your work, you quickly reorganized it. “Good morning, Mr. Jacobs. I’m assuming you’d like to walk and talk?”
“How-”
You walked over to him with a smile, “I can read people’s body language pretty well. Now let’s start our meeting. It’s not like we have all day.”
You both walked through the halls of the White House talking about what you usually talked about in meetings; progress reports, the extent of which Pogtopia is expanding, and brainstorming ideas on how to take the rebelling country down. The entire time he was casually throwing around jokes of which you would reply with a ‘stop messing around’ and quickly reel the conversation back in. Eventually, he stopped dead in his tracks in front of a spare room you and Schlatt used for storage. It was relatively empty inside with the exception of a few boxes. 
“Karl, why have you stopped? We still have much more to discuss before our meeting’s over.”
“Open the doors.”
“Wha-”
“Just do it! You’ll like what’s on the other side, I promise.” You eyed his excited smile suspiciously before you sighed, “fine, I guess I’ll entertain you just this one time. Don’t expect me to-” you cut yourself off as you saw what was behind the door. 
Grinning faces stared back at you. Each member of the Badlands and Rutabagaville were in the cramped little room. Well, it was cramped for Bad and Sam with their heights, the rest of them fit just fine. In Bad’s hands was a homemade cake with neat letters printed on the top in your favorite color. It read ‘happy 16th birthday (y/n)!’. 
You were frozen as Karl put a hand on your shoulder and gently nudged you inside the room closing the door behind him. You stayed frozen as they started to sing happy birthday to you, Karl and Sapnap competing to sing the highest note at the end of it. You stayed frozen as they looked at you expectantly waiting for you to blow out the candles. 
“Well? You gonna blow out the candles, gem?” Skeppy gestured with a hand to the cake, the flames’ light being bounced off his ridgid skin in a slight rainbow. 
“I-I don’t- We don’t have time for this, we’re in a war. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do-”
“Nothing’s gonna happen if we celebrate for an hour,” Sam gently told you, “the paperwork can wait.”
“Yeah, you’re still a kid; you deserve to at least have an hour dedicated to you on your birthday,” Ant told you.
 You stayed there looking at them skeptically, you remembered how they looked at you during the festival. However unlike their looks of fear and disbelief they all wore during the festival, they were looking at you with warmth and empathy. You honestly didn’t know what to do, you haven’t celebrated your birthday since… well since him. By Ender, you missed him. 
“C’mon, imagine the fire is your enemy! Blow em out! Blow em out!” Skeppy chanted, the others joining in with encouraging smiles. Bad looked like he wanted to scold them for trying to pressure you, but he eventually joined in as well placing a giant clawed hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile and a nod towards the cake.
You hesitantly leaned forward and blew the candles out. The plumes of smoke that drifted off from the burnt wicks reminded you of the cigarettes Schlatt would smoke. The men in the room cheered with Ant gently patting your shoulder and Karl, Sapnap, and Skeppy cheering the loudest. Sam was clapping and giving you the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from the creeper hybrid and Bad put his hand on your head and ruffled your hair. You could feel your forced smile turning genuine as you felt a warm joy bubble in your gut and spread through your body for the first time in years. 
“Good job, muffin! What’d you wish for?”
You craned your neck to look up at the demon in confusion, “I was supposed to wish for something?”
“Yeah! Haven’t you done this before?”
“No, can’t say I have. Am I supposed to wish for something now or am I too late?”
“It’s never too late, muffin. Go ahead, wish for something,” Bad gave you a small smile. You nodded and stared at the cake intensely raking your brain for something to wish for. The only thing that you truly wanted was for Tommy and Wilbur to finally die and for Technoblade and Philza’s lives to be ruined. That was the only way you’d be happy, so you opened your mouth only to have a frantic Skeppy cut you off, “no! If you say it out loud, it won’t come true!”
“Alright, I’ll keep it to myself then.” 
After you ate some cake (it’s been a while since you’ve had the sweet, it was tastier than you remembered), you tried to glance at the clock only to be blocked by Ant, “relax, Schlatt’s out today. You can spend as much time here as you want.”
“He’ll find out, my Dad’s been stressed lately. I-”
“Kid, you work your ass off twenty four seven. You’re almost never out of your office.”
“Language Sapnap! But… he has a point though. You need a break. You shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff, you’re still a kid.”
“Loosen up a bit! I’ll put on some music, what do you usually listen to?” Karl grinned widely at you gesturing to the jukebox in the corner of the room. You saw some records laying around on top of one of the boxes. It looked like there was a full collection of them. 
“I don’t usually listen to music. I don’t really have the time for it, but uh, you can pick out anything as long as it’s not Cat or Mellohi.” You hated those discs with a burning passion. It was like you could still hear the muffled medlies drifting through the walls in your childhood home. 
Once Karl put on a disc, some fast paced harmonized notes sounded from the machine. 
“Let’s fuckin party!” Sapnap shouted.
“Language!”
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stevevans · 3 years
Text
i know who you pretend I am -f.o
summary - when you think you have nothing left, the capitol proves they can take more.
warnings - torture, violence, angst, general thg violence
w.c - 1.7k
part 2?
District 13 was completely underground, the reception was terrible so there were only a few tvs, none allowed to Finnick and Katniss personally.
They had each other, each day they grew closer, from the Hospital beds to their own rooms to even eating meals together. Sometimes Annie and Mags would come out and join them.
“I wish they were dead. I wish Y/N was dead.”
His eyes were red and swollen from crying, deadpanning as he looked up at Katniss. She truly never got the opportunity to digest how terrible the Capitol truly is.
Finnick had years, she won’t know until it hits her directly.
“She was supposed to get out first. Before me.”
He felt guilt, pilling up in his chest as he tried to suppress tears, letting out a roar of anger instead. Katniss waited until he was done to sit down beside him, promising to get you and Peeta back.
As they eat the same lunch, the tv turns on. Commotion begins as they all turn, Finnick putting down his spoon, eyes wandering to the screen. He figures it will be another work announcement, yet what he did not expect is to see you.
The sofa you two sat on was blood red, propping you both up like dolls. Dressed in a white gown, tulle pooling at your calves and silk draped over your body, loose sleeves that puff out like the paper muffin liners you both used at home, your eyes glassy as you shifted besides Peeta.
He looked good, yet you looked fragile.
Caesar Flickerman’s voice and face came up as the camera panned,
“Hello, we have a special message for the Radicals creating tyranny, from two of our favorite Victors, Peeta Mellark and Y/N L/N.”
Katniss and Finnick were out of their chairs by now, walking closer to the tv as he slipped his hand into her’s, trying to comfort her and ground himself.
Peeta spoke first, his mind seemed to not truly be all there. You kept messing with your dress, looking down and up and around, makeup caked on your face.
“People are hurting, put down your weapons.” The last thing Finick expected was for you to speak,
“Please, Radicals, listen to us. You do not want a fight, we have lived in peace for so long, we all need to do our part in keeping the peace.”
As the people of 13 started to get angry, slamming their trays, whispering harsh words until it turned into screams and Finnick could barely hear the tv, his ears were ringing as the room spun.
He could see your face scrunch in confusion as Caesar explained what happened in the arena, shaking your head, your hand coming to tap on your face.
“No, no, no Finnick would have told me. They did nothing wrong. They would never do that. We do not know what is going on, Finnick loves me, they have to be keeping him hostage, he’d never abandon me.” Your voice wavers as the tv goes dark when Peeta begins spouting gibberish.
He fell to his knees in the cafeteria as the voices called you a traitor. The rest he blocked from his head as guilt ran through his bones.
As the seasons changed, unnoticed by Finnick he grew sicker. Katniss had made a deal that you and Peeta would be rescued at the earliest convenience, but he couldn’t help the feeling that overcame him frequently.
Peeta had only been on the tv one more time since he saw your face, and he looked worse. Finnick could only imagine how you looked, what you were going through, what they were doing to you, and it broke him. So he took to staring at the picture you wanted him to burn.
You promised he would never need another picture of you, since you were going to spend the rest of your life by his side.
How the times change he would think bitterly.
He was listening to a propo with Katniss when Coin came in, demanding Beetee change the channel, that they needed to see.
It wasn’t you. That was a ghost.
Your eyes were sunken, deep purple bags, your cheekbones poking through your skin like sharp knives, you were shaking, trembling, hair falling in your face, yet pinned perfectly.
He could see your nails, chipped and stained red, from blood, he would know the sickly color anywhere, it frequently found him in his night terrors.
You looked terrible, your collarbones peeking out from under your dress. This time it was a pretty blue, like the water, a deep neckline where he could make out marks and bruises that the makeup couldn’t hide.
It shimmered, sparkling like when the sun hit the water just right at sunset. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying, tears already threatening to leak. Peeta looked just as bad. Matching eye bags and bruises, he wondered, selfishly, if they were hurting him more because of Katniss. He wished they were.
When Peeta started speaking you seemed dejected, detached, almost like you weren’t there, your mind far from the Capitol.
“Now Y/N, care to extend on Peeta’s point?”
“Can I go home? I’ve been good, can I please go home? My Mother must be going crazy wondering where I am. I just want the fighting to stop, I want to see my Boyfriend F-'' Your voice died off, as if you failed to remember his name, and his hope dwindled. The TV quickly cut off after that, Peeta’s anger ending the Capitol message abruptly.
All of the Capitol prisoners were rescued a few days later, Finnick and Katniss could hardly contain their excitement. Haymitch had warned them that it would most likely take a long time to find out what all the Capitol put you both through, but Finnick could care less, he just wanted you back.
They had told him that when they came they could hear the broadcast Finnick was giving, and you were screaming so loud they went to your room first, knocking you out with gas.
He was just ecstatic to see you in person again.
The Doctors refused to leave you alone, test after test, blood pressure, pulse, how are you? All over again and again. You were just so tired, You wanted to sleep, but the bed felt too cold.
Everything felt off, it was strange, you felt as if you didn’t belong here, yet you were forced to stay. They told you only what could keep your head above water, always pressuring you to speak more, but your voice was gone.
You shook with an unknown fear every time you thought you saw him. He was the villain of your story, the night terrors that kept you from sleeping, that had you begging Peeta to meet you at the wall to talk, but Peeta stopped coming.
Memories were hazy, the Capitol was weird, you can’t quite put your finger on what they did, the memories all blurred together, but judging by the new weight on your body and the way everyone treated you as the most delicate, fragile creature, you knew it was bad.
The doctors said you had a special visitor, yet they still refused you a mirror, or even a bit of makeup. You had missed human interaction that was not Doctors, Haymitch, or some Government official in 13.
You hoped it was Peeta or Johanna.
You felt like it wasn’t you in your body, shaking, as you climbed off of the white hospital bed, the sheets were wrinkle-less, and when you woke up they were still perfect, pristine, it reminded you too much of the Capitol.
Facing the wall as you waited for your guest you started to pick at the bed of your nails. It hurt, but you were real. They had at least let you put on a shirt and pants after you had begun gaining weight back.
You let your hair down from the ponytail it was in, running a shaky hand through it. Picking at the ends you watched the ground as the door opened. The voice was soft, but it got you to perk up, fear running down your spine and filling you up from the bottom up.
“Baby, is it really you?” his voice was soft, he sounded sad, you could see his feet coming closer, slowly, but it still came closer.
No matter how soft he spoke, you filled with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him yet, hands bunching into fists as your nails dug into your palm.
“Please go away.” Your voice wavered, wanting to cry.
“They told me they are still wondering what happened, but it's okay. You’re okay, I will never let them touch you again. I will kill every last one of them if they even try to touch you.”
You had won the Hunger Games, you could do this, you could evade him long enough to press the big red help button.
He must have taken your silence as complicitness as he shuffled closer to you, causing you to let out another scream at the top of your lungs.
“Please! Back away!”
He seemed sad by your actions, slowing him down long enough for you to nimbly run past him and press the red button,
They kept your door closed so you were ‘safe’ they said, but it was to keep you inside.
“Help me! Please! Help me! He’s trying to kill me! Please!” You screeched, screaming until Haymitch burst in, along with Plutarch and a plethora of Nurses and Doctors.
The man, you couldn’t even say his name, started screaming,
“What the fuck did you do to her? What the fuck did you let them do? Don’t fucking touch me!” Haymitch had to take him out with the help of security,
“They did it with Peeta too, they made her think you are the bad guy. It is not our fault, or yours, the Capitol did this, remember that. The Capitol.”
You tried to stop screaming and crying, but your body would not allow for it. As soon as he was out you crumpled onto the floor, sobs wracking your body as you begged.
The next thing you knew was darkness.
449 notes · View notes
golden-barnes · 3 years
Text
Plum tarts and red carnations
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Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader
Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.
Category: Fluff
Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .
Word count: 2.5k
Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!
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“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.
Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.
After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.
It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.
While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.
“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.
“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.
“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.
“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.
“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.
“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.
“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.
“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.
“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.
“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.
“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”
Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.
With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.
“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.
“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.
“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.
“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”
“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.
“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.
“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.
“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.
“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.
-
“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.
“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.
“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.
“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.
“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.
“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.
“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.
Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.
“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.
“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”
“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.
“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.
“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.
“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.
Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.
“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.
“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.
“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.
“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.
“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.
“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.
“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.
“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.
“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.
“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.
“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.
“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.
They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.
“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.
“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.
Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.
They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.
“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.
Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.
“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”
“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.
But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.
And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.
So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.
“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.
“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.
“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.
“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.
“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.
“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.
“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.
“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.
“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.
“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.
“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.
“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.
“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.
“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.
She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.
They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?
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radfemblack · 2 years
Text
I’m critical of “both sides” when it comes to the pandemic and the vaccines. On one hand. The reaction of governments has been very suspect. And the increasingly draconian measures being taken to enforce lockdown and get people vaccinated is scary. It begs the question, does something that is truly for our own good warrant all of these lies, all of this fearmongering, manipulation, and coercion? How anyone who raises any questions about the way things are going is immediately jumped upon and demonized raises big red flags. Do we really believe that the pandemic has been handled 100% perfectly? And that’s not even to get into how race intersects with healthcare. Black and indigenous people have a long history of being used as test monkeys in experimental procedures, which creates a lot of distrust in the medical establishment — this is something that’s not being addressed enough.
Full disclosure, I am double vaccinated. I initially didn’t want to take the vaccine because of all of the side effects I heard about, but I had to in order to go to school. Apart from some very watery diarrhea after the first dose, I have had no adverse reactions (yet). Now that I have it I’m glad to have taken the vaccine, I feel safer now. For a while I continued to worry a fair bit, but someone unexpectedly convinced me of this vax right now: Donald Trump. Donald Trump going against Candace Owens on vaccines is a pretty solid indication that they’re good. Trump could have taken the easy opportunity to stir up partisan politics but he didn’t. So this isn’t some “liberal elite” agenda, outside of some far-fetched scenario this must be serious.
Now, as for the “antivaxxers” and “antimaskers”. I think they have some points, as I said before, but I think most of them are just driven by partisan contrarianism. And the absolute fucking victim mentality a lot of them have! I can’t fucking stand these mfs with their goofy and lame ass comparisons to segregation and the Holocaust. Stop. Just fucking stop. It’s like when trans activists try to piggyback on white supremacy to advance their bullshit. None of you better open your mouths to compare yourselves with the poor set upon negroes when you don’t give a shit about us outside of our utility as your rhetorical prop. If you want to argue that it’s unethical for the government to coercively impose medical procedures on people, that’s one thing. But this is a false equivalency. Your vaccination status is something you can change, my skin color is not. If your argument really is solid then it can stand on its own.
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alrightberries · 3 years
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our sorry little hearts
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❈ pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader
❈ genre: angst. ❈ word count: 1.6k
❈ summary: Levi hasn’t seen your traitorous Eldian face in years.
❈ trigger warnings: profanity. war. mentions of blood, death, and violence.
a/n: you’ve heard of enemies to lovers, now get ready for... lovers to enemies. this takes place during the liberio invasion aka S4 E6. based on a love like war by all time low.
(also don’t tell anyone but this is me lowkey warming up after not writing for so long)
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There’s something oddly nostalgic about seeing you again on the battlefield.
Levi recognizes your usual battle stance; feet a shoulder’s width apart and hands tightly clutching the handles of your sheathed blades. You’re wearing the scouting regiment’s outdated white uniform, green cape hiding the leather straps your missing brown jacket usually would. He’s not surprised you’re not wearing your wings of freedom jacket, though; he was, after all, the one who sliced it in half during your escape with Zeke on the Cart Titan’s back. He hasn’t seen it, but he’s positive that a long scar runs down the length of your spine.
“Levi,” he hears you murmur, and he pretends that his heart doesn’t ache after hearing his name slip from your lips for the first time in four years. “I—... Levi,”
He feels his chest tighten. You still look as beautiful as he remembers you to be, and the fact that you still take his breath away is something he hates. It’s been a long while since he last stood on a battlefield with you. Only this time, there were no trees to swing from or titans to kill; no reassuring squeezes on the shoulder or cheeky kisses when no one was looking; no small smiles or stolen glances across the field as your horses galloped through Titan Country. No— this time, you wore different colors and fought on opposing sides.
“Levi, talk to me,” your tone is airy, said in what seemed to be a mixture of built up anticipation and disbelief. But there was something in your voice— something he couldn’t quite place. Was it relief? Longing, perhaps? Maybe even regret. But Levi pushes those thoughts aside in favor of gritting his teeth and giving his traitorous wife a stone cold stare. “Levi, talk to me, please.”
He refuses to reply. His hands are shaking from how hard he was gripping the handles of his blades, and he swears his heart was going to burst out of his untrimmed chest from how loudly it beat at his ribcage. There are about a million and one emotions swirling around his head— betrayal. anger. sadness. melancholy.
And he doesn’t know which one takes over him when he charges at you full speed.
There’s a grunt followed by the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Levi’s not surprised to see that your reflexes are still as sharp as they were before. His own cape whips in the wind when he turns to land another strike. But then he hears sound of your hooks digging into bricks, and he’s quick to take your little fight to the air in pursuit of you.
He knows he has to be at the plaza to save Eren’s ass but he also knows that he had at least seven minutes before he had to go. He’ll make this quick.
“Levi,” he hears you call out. You’ve led him further away from the plaza— maybe intentionally or unintentionally, he doesn’t know— and he’s only now realizing that you both stood on the side of a building, the hooks on your gears the only thing keeping you up. “My love—-”
“—don’t call me that,” his heart twitches and he sneers. It’s the first thing he’s said to you in years and god did you miss his voice, miss him in general. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that,”
“Levi,” you breathe, but the deep growl that escapes his lips is enough for your words to die in your throat.
“Stop,” he says. “You’ve lost the right to speak my name; you’ve lost the right to wear that cape,” his eyes land on the silver chain you wore around your neck, a gold ring hanging in the middle. It matched the one he had back home, the one he secretly held at night and kissed sorrowfully when he felt like breaking down. His voice is quieter, almost pained as he speaks, “you’ve lost the right to wear that ring. You’ve lost the right to even look me in the eye after what you’ve done.”
His words sting and your throat tightens when you once again remember the look of pure and utter betrayal in his eyes when you confessed you were a spy on behalf of the Marleyan government. The way he froze, hoping you were lying; yet the tears running down your cheeks and the apologies that slipped from your lips as you got down on your knees and begged him for forgiveness left no room for contest.
“Levi, we don’t have to fight, please just hear me out. I’m still the wife you loved—-“
“No,” he cuts you off. “My wife is gone. She died in the battle for Shiganshina.” your lip quivers, and he continues to speak. “You? You’re an enemy. You’re as good as dead to me.”
Your words once again die on your tongue when he charges at you, and you just barely manage to leap away. The edge of his blade scrapes against your thigh, and blood paints your trousers red when your feet land on the cobblestone streets.
Every attempt you make after, any attempts at conversation is silenced with a swift swing of Levi’s blades, almost as if he were seeking catharsis through violence.
You grit your teeth. “You’re never going to listen to me, are you?”
His silence and steely glare is all the answer you need, and you sigh. Your stance shifts, and the grip on your blades changes; you were finally taking an offensive stance, Levi notices. Blocking his blows wouldn’t be enough— you couldn’t reason with him no matter how hard you tried, and you couldn’t win with just defense. You had to outsmart him; you had to win. You had to.
“I’m sorry, levi, but losing isn’t an option for me. Not this time,” you murmur.
You didn’t want to fight him, he could see it in your eyes. But you were fighting for something, for someone more important than him. Your eyes— the first things he fell in love with, the ones that were usually fiery and full of life— are soulless, almost solemn when he sees you run at him full speed, and Levi pushes down the hurt he felt at the thought of you loving another as he charges at you too.
A tear silently falls down your cheek. You loved levi, but you loved him more. You were fighting for him, and he was waiting for you back at home.
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There’s a grey little building in the Liberio Intermittent Zone, somewhere between the gates and the plaza. The gunshots and explosions just barely reach the drab building, and the smoke rising into the air is the only thing visible to the naked eye of the chaos unfolding at the plaza.
A Marleyan soldier, donned in white and war medals, stands in front of an open window. She’s got binoculars in her hands, and she peeks through the eye piece to watch as two figures fight. Their capes create shadows of black where they flutter, and their silver blades gleam in the moonlight.
She smirks. Your negotiation failed, just like she said it would, and now you had no choice but to fight to the death.
Good, she thinks, that Eldian scum’s doing her end of the bargain.
She leans back and a satisfied hum leaves her lips. She turns to look at the little boy, no more than four years old, sat on the bed. The red Eldian arm band clasped around his arm brings a grimace to the soldier’s face. She can’t believe she got stuck with babysitting some lowlife scum.
“Is mommy doing well?” he asks timidly. He doesn’t even know that you were out there about to murder a man, but the kid was smart; he at least knew your job carried a heavy weight.
“For now,” she replies. The boy’s jet black hair bounces slightly as he nods, and his slanted eyes are downcast, staring at the floor. His silvery grey orbs dare not make contact with hers.
The boy looked almost nothing like you— if anything, she was sure he looked to be the spitting image of his unknown father. Strong genes, the father must’ve had.
She finds amusement in how tense the boy was around her; at least his whore of a mother had the decency to teach the kid his place in the world. He was worse than an Eldian, the lowest of the low— he was half Paradis demon. He should’ve never been born. They should’ve beaten you to death along with your unborn child like she’d suggested when you came back from Paradis knocked up.
“You can kill me, but spare my baby, please.” she remembers you begging. “I didn’t even know i was pregnant. Not even the father knows.”
Still, maybe it was a good choice to keep both you and the demon child alive. As much as she hated to admit it, you were a skilled soldier— one of the best they’ve ever had. Threatening your life meant nothing to you, but threatening your child’s? All they had to do was suggest it, and you’d follow their commands like an obedient dog chasing after a dangling treat.
“When’s mommy going to come home?” the boy suddenly asks.
“Soon,” she replies, eyes once again gazing through her binoculars. “If your mother does her job well, she’ll be back soon.” There’s a telephone beside the soldier, ready to make the call should you ever stop fighting. A sniper awaits her signal.
“If she doesn’t... well,” she laughs. The door to the small room you called home is locked, and the loaded gun hidden in the soldier’s pocket is a weight she’s familiar with. “Do you believe in god?”
“No,” the boy shakes his head. “Who’s that?”
“Tell you what, kid. if your mother fucks this up, i’ll personally see to it that you meet him soon enough.”
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alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.
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spideymarvelws · 3 years
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can you do some technoblade x teen platonic reader headcanons about techno sorta being the reader’s mentor and being one of the only people on the smp who could actually defeat technoblade in a sword fight?
behold... another main character
Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To Your Taglist
Warnings : Violence, Death, Some cursing
Word Count : 4.0k
The Blade and The Survivor (1/?)
Technoblade x GN!Platonic!Teen!Reader
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You’ve only ever heard the story’s of the famous blood god growing up
Your brother was the first to introduce you to the legend, the legend of a man who never died
Who’s fought battles that no person could ever dream of and walked out victorious every time
The well known anarchist who’s taken down government after government
You were hooked from the very beginning and after every tail he would tell, you would beg your brother to teach you how to fight like him
While your brother wasn’t the best, he knew his way around basic weapons from your grandfather and agreed 
He would bring you out to a nearby plains biome anytime you were free and teach you all he knew
And while it wasn't much, you were grateful for every piece of information and put your all into everything he taught you
He even reenacting some fights from the stories to make it interesting for you
You would always play along, acting as the infamous blade and running around with your brother
Sometimes you would shout “blood for the blood god” while killing cows or chickens
But you refused to kill pigs.
In fact you got a pet one and named it Bladey
For your birthday your brother got you a saddle and you made a carrot on a stick using the crops he stole from the farm so you could ride it across the village
He also gifted you a wooden sword and axe while he wielded stone
for safety of course, he wasn't about to give a child stone tools
Along with a shield that had the banner of your village
But out of every weapon, you were the best with a bow
You had a natural talent for it, every arrow you ever shot always hit its target
Your brother would always ruffle your hair and compare your aim to that of the blade’s, making you beam even brighter
“Who knew we have an archer on our hands, the blade could never compare,”
But all of this was done in secret
The village you lived in was safe, small and homey
Everyone knew one another, so the possibly of someone committing crimes or turning against someone was unlikely
The villagers were peaceful with one another
And with the iron golems patrolling every corner 
you loved to give them poppies from your mother’s garden as a thank you
There was no need to learn to fight when you lived in a place that never needed it
The village ran on balance, equality amongst each person so that everyone could be amongst one another in peace
Plus, at the time you were the youngest in the village, considered a baby by everyone
And while you had the kindness and curiosity to match it, there was always something missing
Training was the only thing that fulfilled it
Your brother thought that your practises would disrupt that balance so he never told anyone about your activities
And that stayed true until your last night in the village 
You, your brother and bladey were making your way back to the village after a long day of training when you noticed thick, black smoke rising from where it stood
You both started walking carefully to the area, you walking behind your brother with the pig in your arms for comfort
In the distance, you noted the shadow of pillagers and iron ore scattered across the grounds
You went to scream as you got close and run to your house, but your brother slapped his hand over your mouth and pulled you with him behind a nearby tree
But one of the pillagers heard the noise of leaves rustling and began to approach the both of you.
Your brother was quick to take out his sword, pushing you behind him 
“Listen to me Y/n, I want you to run okay? Run and never stop until you know you’re safe okay?”
You shook your head, “What about you? What about our parents?”
He smiled sadly, shakily ruffling your hair, “I’ll be right behind you... Now go!”
The sound of swords clashing and the screams of your brother were the last things you heard  as you ran, tears falling from your face 
Bladey squealed in your arms, wiggling and turning to get out of them, sensing the danger but you kept your grip tight, following your brother’s orders and running as far as pos sible
Needless to say he didn’t follow, neither did the rest of the village that was left in ashes and ruins after the attack
You couldn't find the heart to turn back, to fight along side your brother
You fled like a coward. Guilt, pain and hatred riding on your back 
But you didn't give up hope, plotting revenge against the mobs who destroyed your home
Who killed your family
You walked for days, stopping at villages, trading with them and improving your supplies
And getting a lot of carrots
Your wooden swords turned into iron, along with the rest of your tools
Your leather helmet turned into a full set of iron armor 
But you kept your old shield, repairing it every time it lost durability
You even crafted a crossbow that you learned was the main weapon pillagers used
You dreamed of pointing it at there neck, watching the sharp arrowhead puncture their skin and bleed out on the floor
You tended to sleep through the day and fight threw the night, taking out your anger on the mobs that spawned around the wood houses you made to keep yourself warm and isolated
Times when you weren't fighting and training, you spent in the library of any village you found, learning about anything you could
It was there you learnt about the rare ore diamonds, hidden deep in caves 
You also learned about enchantments, that made your armor and weapons even stronger
Soon enough you were geared up with full diamond armor and a set of diamond tools 
But it was never enough, you always needed more 
So you went to nether after repairing a ruined portal you came across
And began exploring
Gathered potions
All the materials you could find
Along with netherite
And fighting every mob you happened to pass by except piglins
For such a young age, you were stacked, maxed out to the point of boredom that you couldn't go further
Even Bladey had his own turtle shell, adjusted slightly to fit his head and allow him sight
You often wondered if this was what it was like to feel like technoblade
And throughout your journeys, you kept the stories your brother told you by heart, learning as much as you could about The Blade
You followed in his footsteps, using his successes as even more motivation to continue on your quest
And ready to finally get your revenge
It was easy to take down the pillage post, taking the banner and making your own shield that you kept as a trophy in your inventory as a reminder of what you lost
But it wasn’t enough, the loss of your family laid heavy and your heart
So you started protecting the villages you visited in exchange for lower prices in trades
You believed that was your purpose now, you had nothing else to do but fight for the people who couldn't fight for themselves
You wanted to help in ways that you couldn't all those years ago
You would wear a black cloak over your armor, the hood covering your head and a mask concealing your face
You couldn't imagine wearing a skull mask, even if it was for the aesthetic
You looked like death itself
Death with a cute pig side kick
Soon enough, word got around of a teenage warrior roaming the lands labelled ‘The Survivor’, catching the attention of Wilbur and Tommy who had just been exiled from L’manburg
“Why would we need them if we already have techno on our side?”
“Because we need all the allies we could get Tommy, plus we don’t want Shlatt to get to them first.”
You would be passing by Pogtopia on your horse with Bladey tucked into you lap sleeping, following a map to another village that needed help when a tall man stepped in front of your path, making you halt
“Why hello there, Survivor, care for a little chat?” he said ominously, leaning against your horse
You payed no mind to him, hitting his hand of your horse, rolling your eyes and moving around him
You’ve meet people like him on your travels before, people who only needed you for your skills and selfish reasons
At least, that how he came off and you didn’t care to stay and find out if your assumptions were true
“Hey, hey, hey, look, I’m sorry if I came off so forward but- I need your help,”
That made you stop.
“Need help with what exactly?”
He went on to explain his situation about a place called L’Manburg, an evil dictator named Jshlatt and his exile along with someone named TommyInnit
At first you said no.
You were only interest in keeping your own kind safe, protected people who needed it
And from the looks of it, it seemed that the two men put themselves in there position so they should be the one to take themselves out
That and you had more pressing matters to attend to than government
“What do you need? What would you want in return?” he started to beg, walking along side your horse as you started to ride away
“I already have all I need,” you croaked
“Well that seems boring. Don’t you want a bit of adventure in your life Survivor? A little bit of flavour to spice up it up? It must be so boring just fighting the same thing over and over again, why not work for a group? A collective?”
You grew tired of his voice, letting out a deep breath you began to consider his words
As much as you didn’t want to admit, he was right
You had been travelling around the lands, going insane, doing the same thing over and over
And while it helped people, it was growing tiring
Maybe one war wouldn’t be so bad, and perhaps you would learn some new stuff along the way
And the alliance with this so called L’manburg would be good for the long run
“If I agree... would you shut up?” you finally cut off his rambling and stopping your horse
He blinked in surprise, “Wow! If i had known talking would make you cave in, I would've brought up Tommy instead.”
You sighed, “I’ll help you okay? As long as I get free access to L’manburg afterwards along with all the supplies i need,”
“Done, done and done.”
The first day wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be
Wilbur was actually pretty chill, letting you make a new home out of the ravine they stayed in
Niki was also really kind, bringing sweet treats from Manburg every time she visited
It was nice to settle for a while, you couldn't remember the last time you slept under the same roof for more that a day
Your horse, Jewel along with Bladey seemed to settle well along with you
You also met Tubbo and Tommy, a lively duo that overwhelmed you at first but there energy was nice to see in such a grey environment
What you didn’t expect was to meet him
You would be mining a small space in the ravine for yourself and your pets when you heard a monotone voice sound from behind you
“Heh?! Who’s the kid?” 
You spun around, raising your sword to the intruder but froze when you noticed the familiar skull mask, along with pointy piglin ears hidden behind bright pink hair 
He didn’t seem fazed by your weapon, leaning against the stone door frame with his arms crossed
“You’re- you’re him.” you muttered in awe
Before he could respond, Wilbur popped out from behind him, “Oh, yeah. That’s Y/n, Y/n, Techno. Techno, Y/n,” he nudged his side, “They’ll be helping us take back L’manburg,”
Techno only nodded, “Nice.” he tilted his head, “Aren’t you that Survivor dude? That’s pretty pog.”
Cut to you standing frozen in place, jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide in amazement
“You- you know who I am?” you squeaked, quickly sticking your sword in the ground and leaning against the handle, stumbling slightly
An attempt to seem cool in front of your idol
An attempt that didn't really work out
He let out a hum, “Heard the name from around yeah,” he pointed to your sword, “Might not want to stab your sword in stone, It’s not that affective.”
And with that he left
Leaving you in shock
If only your brother could see you now
After that interaction, you started to follow him around like a lost puppy, watching in awe at every little thing he did
You felt like a kid again, the warmth in your chest that you lost so long ago restored because the person who tied you and your brother together was here
Because you were training and fighting along side your childhood hero
He would act annoyed at first, always shrugging you off or moving to other rooms to avoid you
You were like a parasite 
He could never shake you off
He didn’t want to grow close to anyone, he was here to take down yet another corrupt government not to look after some orphan
That was Phil’s thing.
But after time he grew a liking to you, enjoying your presence while he was farming potatoes or visiting his cow farm
You acted different around him, the hard and emotionless exterior you showed to Tommy and Wilbur completely vanished and left an innocent, happy child
He always wondered why 
People never did that with him
He was a feared name across the lands of the smp, everyone usually kept there distance and became extremely cautious in his presence
But you didn’t seem to get scared, in fact, you were a talker, constantly asking question after question even if he gave no response
It was nice not to be alone after so long even though he would never admit it 
Even the voices started to take a liking to your bubbly and curious personality
Why is she asking the same question
Maybe you should answer her blood god
She seems nice
You really do take after your father
He saw a part of himself in you
Unlike Tommy and Wilbur, you weren’t fighting for government, you were fighting because you had nothing else to do
Because you were bored with your everyday life being, essentially, an assassin 
The thought always made him chuckle
He left like he could trust you over them because your weren't driven under a government
At least that’s what he told himself
He also wanted to see why they valued your alliance so much to give up half there riches to you from L’manburg
“Duel with me.” he said to you one day, out of the blue as you both made your way across a plain biome looking to animals to kill for food
“Heh?” you said under your breath, clearing your throat while heat rose your your face at his suggestion and the noise of surprise that escaped your mouth
Techno couldn't deny that his heart warmed just a little at the small things you began to pick up from him
“Fight with me,” he drew out his sword, turning around and facing you with the weapon raised in the air, “I wanna see what you’re made of ‘Survivor’. So come on, lets fight,”
This was the first time techno actually talked to you directly, uttered words other that demands, silly excuses or grunts of acknowledgement
“I-” you let out a deep breath, shakily taking out your own sword, “Okay, okay,”
After establishing some rules, the duel began.
He let you take the first hit, barely dealing him damage but you got the second hit as well, knocking him down two hearts
He was quick to regain himself, taking three hearts with his sword and a free hit with his bow
That gave you the idea to take out your own, running a good distance away and getting three shots in
It was a close fight, you didn’t mind if you lost. Fighting Technoblade was already an honour as it was
Then you jumped of a piece of stone, landing a crit and watched his items fall to the floor
Technoblade was slain by Y/n 
You let out a short breath, eyes widening in shock that you had just won
You just killed Technoblade
“I was only going easy on you- I- What enchantment do you have on your sword? You have creative mode don’t you? Yeah, you have creative mode... there’s just no way-”
You bit your lip, trying to suppress your laughs as the blood god ran over to pick up his items with a red face
“Hey! Hey don’t laugh! This isn’t a laughing matter!”
“It- it kind of is.” you said shyly, putting away your sword and eating some steak to regain the health you lost, “If it makes you feel better, I had one heart...”
“oNe hEaRt! She had one heart chat! What is this-”
His words had you rolling on the floor, wiping your eyes of the tears falling from your at how hard you were laughing
“What- What do I have to do for you to keep this between us-” he whispered after you calmed, looking around the the space, making sure it was just you and him
You shrugged, “Nothing really- I- uh, i didn’t mean to kill you... I’m sorry-”
Sorry? Who the fuck says sorry for killing someone
Who says sorry for killing him?
If anything you should be gloating, getting a billbourd and displaying the chat message for everyone to see
He’s never been gladder that nobody else was connected to the chat at the time
“I was going easy on you.”
“I- sure, sure okay...” you thought about it for a second, “If so... then why don’t you teach me the things you didn’t try? Like techniques and stuff...”
He froze at your suggestion, “You want- you want to learn from me?”
“Yeah!” you beamed, “You were... a big inspiration for me growing up and, I would love to learn from the source and not just through tails and stories.”
He thought about it for a bit, usually he would rely on his voices but they were all just insulting him
He didn’t see the harm in it, out of all the children on the SMP, he tolerated you the most
That and you had potential, it was rare to find someone with such skills and who acted humble with them
He sighed, patting the top of your head with a huff, “Sure... Sure why not.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah sure, I mean what’s the harm in it right?” he ruffled your hair
The action made your eyebrows rise and when you looked back up at the piglin hybrid, all you saw was the smile of your brother looking down at you
“Hey, everything alright?” he questioned, noticing your sudden glossy eyes
You quickly rubbed them with your knuckles, “Yeah, yeah I- I just forgot something at Pogtopia,” you said, backing away with an embarrassed smile, “I’ll meet you back there,”
“Sure, sure... I’ll just continue hunting,”
As you ran away he let out a deep breath, taking out swords and looking down at it with a scoff
“Chat... we never speak of this... again.”
After that, the both of you were inseparable 
Going on adventures with each other, looting and exploring together
Where ever he went, you followed in his footsteps as he taught you about whatever he could
He even took you to his secret base and allowed you to help him in gathering supplies to help the fight
“What’s with the pig by the way?”
“It’s my emotional support pig.”
“And his name is bladey?”
“...”
“It’s a short for bladder...now what were you saying about poisoned arrows?”
And while you appreciated the action, your favourite times where the calm ones
When he would take you up to a hight tower or hill so the both of your could relax, maybe eat some mushroom stew as he told you stories of his own adventures 
You opened up to him as well, telling him about your family and your village, how you were travelling around with so sense of direction
It was strange how easily he trusted you, maybe it was because you had similar experiences as him
You understood him and he understood you
You also began to make good friends with the rest of Pogtopia along with everyone else who started to betray shlatt and join there side, becoming more open with the reassurance from Techno that they weren’t bad people
You fit in well, a lot more that he did
You had potential for a bloodless life, he saw that
He didn’t want you to make the same mistakes as him, he didn’t want you to live the same isolated life
And while you agreed with his thoughts on anarchy, he didn’t want to you to have any part in what he was doing.
So when L’Manburg was taken back and Tubbo was but in power, he felt a sense of dread opening his enderchest and taking out his six wither skulls
Don’t let the wither’s hurt them
You’re going to hurt them more that they are
You won’t be able to protect
Protect them at all costs
It wasn’t just the voices that felt the urge to keep you safe
Over the months he’s grown a liking to you, treating you like his own student and teaching you the things he wish he knew at your age
But he could also be the one to corrupt you.
And he didn’t have the heart to find out which way it would go
You caught sight of the skulls in his hands before he switched to his sword, a hard look on his face as everyone began fighting each other
“Techno?” you walked up to him, “Are you-”
“Yeah... yeah I am.” he puffed out his chest, pulling you the side, “Look, things are about to get messy and when they do I want you to run-”
You knew where this was going, flashbacks of your brother fighting one of the pillagers to save you as you ran away to safe yourself, sacrificing himself for you
“No.” you cut him off before he could continue.
While you knew Techno was going to come out of this alive, you had the power to help him now, to help everyone, you didn’t need to run anymore
You considered Techno family now, well the closest thing you had to it and you weren't about to loose that
Not again.
“I’m staying with you Tech,”
He shook his head, “If you do, L’manburg would never look at you the same, you’ll be an outcast once again-”
“Then do what you have to do, but I’m not running away. What happens here is because of everyone’s belief and I believe in safety and protection so that is what I’ll provide.” you took out your sword smirking, “Plus, we all know what happened last time when you tried to fight me,”
“I thought you promised to never speak of this again!”
“I’m sorry I had to-”
“Okay kid, okay...” he took a deep breath, “Just stay clear of dream and his crew... and the withers... Actually? here take some golden apples-”
“Just go be an anarchist Techno,” you pushed him forwards, rolling your eyes, “I’ll be fine.”
“Actually, take this God apple and a few more potions-”
“I already have some-”
“Well take more. And some extra armor... just in case-” he threw the items at you before running away and setting up the soul sand, not wanting anyone to catch on to what he was doing
And with one final look around following the conclusion of his speech, he placed the skulls, unleashing ultimate chaos on the land once called L’manburg
...
Sorry this took so long! I always get ahead of myself with requests and end up writing a lot more that planned but i hope you enjoyed! I was making this so long that I had to spit this into part two, maybe part three to cover the rest of the lore and to be able to develop more on their relationship besides backstory
That and i really want to write the execution scene but this was already 4k words... 
Feedback always appreciated🥰
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