#and they know I won’t stand up for myself when I am mistreated

[xwiredearbuds2014x]

Help me my hatred for my job is making me evil

#on my feet for 8 hours doing dishes im covered in a layer of sweat and chemicals and slime #after I had finished all the dishes and was cleaning the sink a guy brought MORE THAT HE FORGOT #white hot rage #I want to quit every day but I can’t until one of the jobs I’ve applied to gets back to me #there have been times when I’ve kept working even though I’m injured/crying/covered in blood and NOBODY gave a shit #there was a good 6 months or so when we were always understaffed so I had to do the work of 2-4 people constantly #even with lines of customers out the door #one time a while back I told my manager I was feeling overwhelmed and asked if I could go on break #he yelled at me and berated me and basically threatened to fire me. I wasn’t the same for the rest of my shift #I apologized profusely but mentioned how long I’ve been there and everything I’ve given to this place #he said that was just the expectation #even though I know for a fact almost no one works as hard on me. other people slack off #and I have to pick up the slack because they know I can #and they know I won’t stand up for myself when I am mistreated #I guess even though he can be cold and distant and vindictive #I always assumed that he HAD to appreciate me. but I know that is not the case #I lost all respect for him at that moment. there have been other times when he’s yelled at me and belittled me #and I’ve just had to act like everything’s fine because I can’t get fired

[unholycringebirther]

OBSESSIVE IAN DUFF X GN!READER

SUMMARY: Ian’s taken a turn for the darker side, his thoughts have gotten obsessive as he convinces himself you’re the same level as a deity.

WARNING: Obsessive thoughts, unhealthy worshipping, incessant calling and texting, very brief mention of cheating, MINORS DNI.

WORD COUNT: 936

The messages and calls build up unanswered, and despite the ache in my heart I can’t help the dull sense of relief that I haven’t been blocked yet.

Not that I don’t deserve it, I think to myself bitterly as I sit down on my mattress, the cool night air from the open window brushing against my exposed skin.

Everything hurts, the lack of their smile, their presence, their texts, it eats me alive, loneliness pulling me under into a dark, thick sea until I’m clawing pathetically at them to pull me up, to pull me away from the coldness of their tears, tears caused by me.

Desperation laces my fingers as I type another text, it’s late, I should be asleep and logically, I know they probably are, but I can’t stop myself.

I know I should leave them alone, that I should respect their boundaries and stop reaching out so frequently, but something grows inside me as every day passes, something dark twisting around my heart as I fall from their good-graces.

It’s sickening, almost as nausea inducing as the bile that rises in my throat when I think about the night I spent unfaithful, I don’t know how I could’ve looked at anyone else, not when it feels like my ex-lover is the centre point of the earth, pulling everything I am towards them in a enchanting pull.

As the darkness wraps around my heart, my thoughts change, the love I have for them turning to almost worship, the voice I loved listening to late at night shifting until it was above even the song of a siren.

I’m not worthy of them, they’re a deity to this cruel, cruel world and nobody is worth their angelic light.

But as I open Amazon in my browser, I can’t help but attempt over and over to prove that I’m their best follower, the priest that will worship in their temple ‘till my orange hair turns grey and dusty.

Every god needs offerings, and I’ll offer my heart, my soul, everything I am to them, they own my being and I’ll love every second they take me back, I’ll beg for it, take me please, I’m yours.

But right now, the materialistic is all I can give, despite their eternal perfection so obvious to me now, everybody else misses it, and they’ve been rejected from jobs aside from that yogurt place they despise.

I know I shouldn’t be mad at the world, I’ve been so blinded by their light that I missed it completely, but I can’t help the resentment that builds in me at the idea of anyone mistreating them, of rejecting them anything they could ever desire.

But twistedly, a sick gladness washes over me, that means I can provide, to prove im worthy of forgiveness, that im worth the trouble, that I can return to their temple to praise them like they rightfully deserve.

I know what they want, and I scroll through amazon, clicking constantly on things I know they’d love, adding them to my cart and watching the price tag build, they could never afford this themselves, but that’s alright, i’m here for that.

Finally, when the quality of the items starts declining down the list I click the cart, ready to checkout for the next few hours at least, typing in our apartments address.

I stare at my phone, silence booming loudly throughout the apartment as I think, this isn’t enough, not nearly enough, I’m not sure anything ever will.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t try, or won’t, I stand suddenly, moving to my window to gaze down at the campus grounds, part of me regrets coming here, I should’ve stayed in our shared home, happy and warm, where I had the honor of belonging to them.

But I’m here, and that’s opened new doors for a better life for us, I’ve received a offer, one that I’ve mulled over for weeks, wondering where it would slot in to the life I’ll build for me and my god.

I’ve been sent a email about one of the auditions I’ve tried for, a high budget reboot of an old show that the name escapes from me, starring as the colourful main character.

Wealth and fame was promised as part of the deal, it was tempting for the wrong reasons.

I wasn’t special or important in any way, there’s nothing about me that stands out from the crowd, I don’t have looks or anything, my mothers made sure to remind me of that.

But with fame, with my name out there, I could become somebody, even if that somebody was a clown, it was better than staying the nobody that desperately claws at the legs of a higher being, begging for another chance after I so foolishly threw my first one away.

And with wealth, I could buy a better home for us, gift them only the best clothes, food, and luxuries that exists in this world, I would give and give until maybe, I could prove I’m worthy of their gaze on me for even a second.

Yeah, that could work out nicely for the both of us, but I can’t exactly email them back this late at night, so instead, I pull up my gods call ID, I’ve been sent to voicemail hundreds of times, but it was worth it on the off chance they’d pick up, and to hear their siren-like voice message over and over.

I can’t buy them a temple for worship just yet, but I can still prove my dedication with yet another call.

#sunny day jack #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sdj #swwsdj #sdj ian #ian duff #sdj ian duff

[machinerider]

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒

a collection of some of my favorite and some of the rawest lyrics from north carolina-based indie dad rock band The Mountain Goats i could think of without making this meme a novella. many mature themes present & especially so if you decide to listen to john’s music.

‘ i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me. ’ ‘ people say friends don’t destroy one another. what do they know about friends? ’ ‘ woke up afraid of my own shadow. like genuinely afraid. ’ ‘ headed for the pawnshop to buy myself a switchblade. ’ ‘ i feel guilty but i can’t feel ashamed. ’ ‘ it’s okay to find the faith to saunter forward. ’ ‘ lord send me a mechanic if i’m not beyond repair. ’ ‘ there’s bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet no matter where you live. ’ ‘ there’s gonna come a day when you feel better. ’ ‘ i’m gonna bribe the officials, i’m gonna kill all the judges. ’ ‘ it’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage. ’ ‘ our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises, we’re pretty sure they’re all wrong. ’ ‘ i hope when you think of me years down the line you can’t find one good thing to say. ’ ‘ i hope that if i found the strength to walk out you’d stay the hell out of my way. ’ ‘ i am drowning, there is no sign of land. ’ ‘ you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand. ’ ‘ i hope you die. i hope we both die. ’ ‘ cling to my convictions even when i get hurt. ’ ‘ but i’ve tried the losing side, i don’t wanna die in here. ’ ‘ you found my breaking point. congratulations. ’ ‘ spent too much of my life now trying to play fair. ’ ‘ i’m walking out of here in one piece, don’t care what comes after. ’ ‘ do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive. ’ ‘ some things you do just to see how bad they’ll make you feel. ’ ‘ some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes. ’ ‘ mistreat your altar boys long enough and this is what you get. ’ ‘ a tiger’s never going to change its stripes. ’ ‘ too long i’ve let my self respect stand in my way. ’ ‘ you can stand up, you can run. you and i both know what you’ve done. ’ ‘ i will carry you home in my teeth. ’ ‘ spat out my morning prayers. desperate pleas and viscous lies. ’ ‘ there are no pan-asian supermarkets down in hell. ’ ‘ feast when you can, and dream when there's nothing to feast on. ’ ‘ the most remarkable thing about coming home to you is the feeling of being in motion again. ’ ‘ i am not this body that imprisons me. ’ ‘ look hard at my stripes, there’ll be no more after me. ’ ‘ sing for the damage we’ve done and the worse things that we’ll do. ’ ‘ i know you’d kill me if you could stand the sight of blood. ’ ‘ i can see the future, it’s a real dark place. ’ ‘ i’m doing this for revenge. ’ ‘ john rambo never went to vietnam. ’ ‘ i am healthy, i am whole. but i have poor impulse control. ’ ‘ i wanna go home, but i am home. ’ ‘ i’m going to get my perfect body back someday. ’ ‘ if not by faith then by the sword i’m going to be restored. ’ ‘ and i can't think of one thing in this whole wide blessed world that's more dangerous and frightening than you when you get bored. ’ ‘ i am coming home to you with my own blood in my mouth. ’ ‘ i am coming home to you if it’s the last thing that i do. ’ ‘ you’re the last best thing i’ve got going. ’ ‘ so i follow you down your twisting alleyways, find a few cul-de-sacs of my own. ’ ‘ there’s only one place this road ever ends up and i don’t wanna die alone. ’ ‘ wake up sixty minutes after my head hits the pillow. i can’t live like this. ’ ‘ believe in your heart and confess with your lips. surely you will be saved one day. ’ ‘ wait as long as i have to for good news. ’ ‘ a kind and loving god won’t let my small ship run aground. ’ ‘ no one hopes to hear the bagman call. ’ ‘ no friends closer than the ones we lost. ’ ‘ no greater love than to lay my life down for a friend. ’ ‘ look high: it’s my last hope! ’ ‘ i need justice in my life, here it comes. ’ ‘ i’ve been told it’s real sweet to grow old. ’ ‘ i don’t mean it when i tell you “i don’t love you anymore”. ’ ‘ what’ll i do when i don’t have you? when i finally get what i deserve? ’ ‘ you can’t give me back what you’ve taken. but you can give me something that’s almost as good. ’ ‘ look at the person i’ve turned into. tell me, how do you like him now? ’ ‘ i am right where you want me. do what you brought me out here for. ’ ‘ you can arm me to the teeth, you can’t make me go to war. ’ ‘ i’m under no illusion as to what i meant to you. ’ ‘ but you made an impression. sometimes i still feel the bruise. ’

#meme. #mine. #ask prompt #lyric meme #the mountain goats lyric meme #sentence starters

[dotty456]

Two weeks and three days, Dumbledore thinks gleefully. The trial is over and since they’ve heard nothing about the defendants, it means they lost and Dumbledore won. Remus can no longer undermine everything we worked so hard for, Gert, we’ve really done it now. Werewolves will be eradicated next and the world will be better for it. The Marauders are also quiet which means Dumbledore is even happier, a loss of a friend is always a good way to get revolutionaries back in line, they won’t step out of place again.

He can see them now, sitting at their table silently and sullenly eating the blandest foods available. Completely crushed with nothing else to fight for now that their precious werewolf faces the Dementor’s Kiss. Dumbledore won’t miss him, it’s not like they were friends and he’ll earn his colleagues trust back now that McGonagall is no longer here to undermine him at every turn.

He will admit he didn’t expect the whole school to be as quiet as it is, the first few days after Remus was taken involved a lot of questions, then they all went back to every day life and now they’re all sullen and depressed. Dumbledore is about to stand up to call them to attention when the doors open to reveal a pack of Aurors, “What is the meaning of this?” They don’t answer him, they march forward and when they split to the side at the front of the aisle it reveals Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall.

The room gasps, the Marauders stand to hurry over only for McGonagall to tell them to settle. “Hello Headmaster, been awhile. How are you?” Remus asks, a cocky smirk plastered to his face.

“I don’t understand, what are you doing here? I will not harbour a werewolf.”

“Funny that, you’ve been doing it for five years now, I wonder what changed your mind.” The room is listening raptly and noise is made at that sentence.

“Do not make false accusations, Mr Lupin, I am much too revered to be taken down by a fifteen year old werewolf.”

“They’re not accusations, Dumbledore, they’re bolstered with fact. I’ve spent fourteen hour days in a court room because of you. I was poisoned with silver for that entire time, chained down and forcefed. Treated like an animal because of your laws, because you believe that I am worth less than a wizard, that I am a being not a child. You wanted me dead… They offered me that, did you know? Told me that they’d give me to the Dementors for my soul to be sucked out just because of a bite. I have turned one hundred and forty-four times, suffered for eleven years with lycathropy because of your stupid laws, I have sliced myself to ribbons under your watchful eyes for five of them. Didn’t think I knew about that, did you? You give yourself too much credit, Albus. You are a weak old man grasping at what little is left and you got overconfident, you believed that with Professor McGonagall and I gone you’d be safe from us but you didn’t bet on the fact that we’d be prepared. We knew you’d get me arrested, we knew you’d spout a bunch of lies so we collected more than enough evidence of your crimes. So, Albus Dumbledore, you are under arrest for influencing the Wizengamot, for committing fraud, for attempted murder and for the mistreatment of children. Your titles have been removed, your estate has been forfeited to me as compensation for the damage you caused me and my family.”

“You’re going to need it, you’re never going to study here again.”

“Final surprise… Headmistress?”

“Remus Lupin has been enrolled back into his classes, he will start them on Monday. The Minister for Magic contacted every parent personally, they all agreed to allow him to study alongside their children. I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts now so,” McGonagall steps forward, “Get out of my seat.” Dumbledore is hauled from her chair, his wand confiscated and chains put on to resist his magic.

“You can’t seriously believe that this will stick,” Dumbledore harrumphed as he is brought around the table closer to them. Remus leans forward, grabbing Dumbledore’s robes and tugging him closer to his face so they’re nose to nose.

“It’s going to stick, there is nothing left for you. As for your money, I think you deserve to know what I’m going to do with it, hmm? Are you curious?” Dumbledore growls and Remus smiles a savage grin, “I’m going to use every fucking penny to overturn every law against my people.” Dumbledore looks enraged, he looks almost purple in fury, Remus steps back and fixes the robes he messed up with his grip, “Hey Headmistress, can I do one thing real quick?”

She smirks at him from her place at the head table, she chose to take her seat during Remus’s rant and her professors are grinning in satisfaction. “All yours, Mr Lupin.”

Remus then proceeds to punch Dumbledore in the face hard enough to break his nose, flooding Dumbledore’s face with blood. The room is incandescent with noise as Dumbledore sputters on his own blood. “I’m sure you regret it now, huh? Coming to my house and convincing my mother that I’d have a better life here. If it makes you feel any better, you were right. I will have a better life here. It’s you that’s going to suffer. Have fun in Azkaban, Dumbledore. I’m sure we won’t miss you.”

To read the rest of “I’ve loved you in a million different ways” check out dotty456 on ao3

#marauders #remus lupin #siriusxremus #wolfstar #mama mcgonagall #dumbledore bashing #ivelovedyouinamilliondifferentways

[whateveryouwantmetodoiwilldo]

dylan, pappa, i don’t know if you’re reading this, or if you ever stumble on this account again but if you do then this is me, saying the bye bye that he was unable to get out because of all the sadness clouding his tiny mind and heart. because his anger to me for doing this to him felt to him so final that he couldn’t breathe good enough to even take in your comfort. it isn’t a forever bye bye like he said in his angered and saddened state clouded by his beating heart, it’s just a bye bye until christmas. though to a four year old boy that must feel like forever. it’s a bye bye until he turns five. a bye bye until the day that marks you spending a whole year together. a bye bye that is the hardest. i understand why he wasn’t able to do it because even i’m having an incredibly hard time typing and regulating myself amidst all the sobbing and panicking, the thoughts of how cruel i must be for doing this but also that i don’t think i could survive if i didn’t. a bye bye because i have to move on from all that is connected to this house and these feelings as it’s my time to fly to italy, because i have to get better and because i am going to. because i’m not going to mess up this opportunity, because i’m going to be a good person and because i never want to cause you an ounce of sadness again. but also because i have to, because my life is going to change weather i want it to or not, weather i’m ready for it or not. i’m going to take on the challenge and i’ve decided he isn’t going to do it with me. that it would be too much for him, that such a tiny boy couldn’t do it, not even with his pappa. and because he isn’t ready for that change, because he isn’t unselfish enough to live in the same body with me knowing that the change is going to happen. that it has to happen, for my health. for me to stay alive. it’s not his choice. and i know you think i’m unfair and was never kind enough to him but dylan i always tried. a bye bye because i’m currently deleting all the regression stuff off of my phone, because looking at it knowing i won’t have the safeness, the comfort and the happiest feelings of my life, until christmas breaks me in a way nothing else could. bunny is going to go away for a bit as well just like he is, i’m giving her for amelie to take care of until chrismas as to make sure i don’t mess something up on accident. to make sure that on christmas, he will return. because bunny will. as i won’t have any little stuff surrounding my life or my phone from this day forward i have made an effort to archive it all here, of course also as not to lose it forever but more importantly for another reason. when the missing and the crying and the depression gets too unbearable there’s a place to open up and look at: see all the happy. there was a lot of sad in his time being small and fragile and vulnerable but when i look back it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter the tantrums and anger and sadness and words left unsaid and fights left unresolved, sleepless nights that ended it tears. it matters the happy. it matters that you have healed him. in a way nothing has or ever will heal us again. it matters that you have single handedly as his pappa been the reason for the safest and most comforting support i’ve ever had or will ever have again in my entire life. for you being the reason we are recovering, not letting ourselves fall into traps of abusive people or stand by when we get mistreated. for you being the reason i can trust again, express myself again, dare to be me for the first time in my life and smile and giggle like i’m just a little kid who the world has never gotten the chance to hurt or damage. because when he’s with you is the only time i live in a bubble of safeness. where no one can touch me, where i’m never hit or yelled at and where i’m always made comfortable not just from outside but from inside too.

please choose to look at it the same. it’s all i ask of you, please look back and see the happy. don’t become sad because you can’t see him right now, become happy at knowing you will again. become happy because you see all the happy you had with him. because you met each other and because you helped each other heal, because you stuck by each other and because before you know you’ll have it all back. you’ll feel warm and fuzzy and safe with him in your arms just as he does in yours. and as you reflect back on all that happiness know that he is doing the same, that even when you aren’t together talking, giggling and telling stories you are together in your mind as well as his.

know that he’ll come back to his pappa,

ebba & little prince

[avisheena]

Let’s Cut the Bullying Loop

As a passionate young woman advocating for world issues, including human rights and world peace, I am determined to make a positive impact. Having personally experienced bullying at the age of nine, I am deeply concerned about the harmful effects of aggressive behavior on individuals everywhere. This inspired me to create the "Cut the Bullying Loop" project, aiming to prevent and break the cycle of bullying through social media. With unwavering determination, I aim to reach a vast global audience through my powerful writing, sharing thoughts, personal experiences, and insightful recommendations on bullying prevention. My vision is a world where kindness prevails, and every individual feels valued, respected, and safe in their uniqueness. I strive to shatter the pervasive cycle of bullying with the unyielding force of empathy and unity.

According to reliable sources, we must first understand what bullying is, the different types of bullying, and how it affects our daily lives. Then I’m going to share with you my tips on how to deal with bullying.

Referring to Wikipedia, Bullying is the use of force, coercion, hurtful teasing or threat, to abuse, aggressively dominate, or intimidate another person. The action is frequently repeated and habitual. Bullying is a subcategory of aggressive behavior characterized by the following three criteria: (1) hostile intent, (2) imbalance of power; and (3) repetition over a period of time. Bullying is defined as repeated, aggressive behavior intended to harm another person physically, mentally, or emotionally. Bullying can be classified into several types, including physical bullying, verbal bullying, cyberbullying, sexual bullying, relational bullying, and prejudicial bullying (Vinney, 2021). All of the above categories can have a detrimental effect on a victim's physical and mental health. According to mentalhelp.net, there are some risks that bullying victims may experience. In the short term, it causes anger, depression, and anxiety, which leads to an inability to develop and recognize one's own potential and a sense of worthlessness. Long-term effects include avoidance of new social situations, hypersensitivity, a desire for vengeance, difficulty trusting people, self-esteem issues, and an increased incidence of continued bullying.

Speaking of bullying, I've been in that situation before, where I was harassed and insulted by others. I know how it feels, and it has left an imprint on my heart and memory. I won’t let it happen to anyone else. It pains me greatly to know that people have been treated in the same way as me, or even worse. When will it end? Reporting or asking for help doesn't mean you are weak. I'm sure most people would agree with that. The problem is that some victims are afraid to talk about it, to tell people they trust. It’s a serious issue that requires the attention of those who are familiar with the situation. I understand why they keep quiet, because I was one of those people who did nothing to help themselves. I knew I was in danger, but I was too afraid to tell my family what was going on. I didn't want to burden them or make them spend too much time worrying. I considered the possible outcomes or consequences of telling the truth, and I was hesitated to seek help...but I was mistaken. I'm not that strong; I need help. Then I told my mom about what had happened, and she gave me her support. I realized I needed to stand up for myself at that point. I made that moment my life lesson. I successfully turned it into motivation to keep going and be consistent by being myself, doing more good things, and growing every day. I'm attempting to find the positive in the midst of this horrible situation. Most importantly, I refuse to be like those who mistreated me.

So, how do we deal with it? Here are some tips from me to consider based on my own experience:

Self-awareness. Recognize the signs of bullying and how it affects you emotionally and physically. By being attentive to the signs of bullying, you empower yourself to respond effectively. 

Empowering ourselves. Focus on building self-confidence and resilience. With persistence, you can develop a strong foundation to face the challenges of bullying and other adversities in life.

Setting boundaries. Firmly tell the bully to stop their behavior, explain that what they are doing has no effect on you and will only cause them grief and sorrow if they continue. Establishing boundaries may deter further harassment, and by taking this step, you are showing your generosity. Make a favorable impression on the bullies.

Ignoring the bully. If it’s not physically threatening, ignore the bully’s behavior and not react emotionally. Bullies often seek a reaction, and not giving them one may deter their actions. They want to take away your power, make you fearful, and make you feel low. Do not, ever, let them take away your power!

Seeking Help. If you feel threatened and believe you are in serious danger but are unable to deal with it on your own, seeking help is an excellent option. It can be scary to discuss it with people we trust because we fear they will see us as weak. However, this is not the case; people will listen and support you. Seeking help not only assists us but also makes us feel safe. You should tell a trusted adult the truth right away; do not wait for the right time!

Build a support network. Surround yourself with supportive and understanding individuals who can uplift and encourage you during difficult times.

Remain positive and educate others. Raise awareness about bullying and its impact. Encourage discussions and educational initiatives to foster a respectful and inclusive environment.

It is important to be firm with yourself as well as with bullies. Being firm with them does not imply allowing them to engage in bad behavior; rather, it means caring for others while also remembering that you need to take care of yourself. You are not alone; there will be someone to help you. There are numerous ways to encourage yourself to talk about it and seek help.

To sum it up, I want you to be fearless. Be willing to talk about what happened to you and tell someone you trust. Be fully cognizant of your surroundings and maintain respect for everyone, even the bullies. Remember, we don't know what they might be going through in life that led them choose harmful actions. In other words, never stoop to their level. Instead, strive to be a better person and rise above negativity. Show kindness and understanding, and work towards a world there compassion and empathy prevail. The information presented here is intended to be useful for those who read it.

I am an anti-bullying and anti-violence fighter; I hope we can work together towards eradicating such heinous behaviors.

#bullying #stop bullying #positivity #tips #empowerment #raise awareness #be brave #advocate #anti-violence #avisheena #ideas #useful #empathy

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 3

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Third chap, here we go! It’ll start picking up soon. I know there isn’t much ‘horror’ rn, but it will get there, I promise. Also, I’m sorry Tamaki’s part is a bit longer than Hawks. I just adore Tamaki so much and he deserves the world and lots of hugs and kithes.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing. More to come.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

You peek over your clipboard to see his cocky smirk and hide your eyes again. "Keigo, would you please put on a shirt?"

He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows. "What, too embarrassed to look at me, baby bird? I'll tell you what. You tell me who you are, and if you're single, and I'll cover myself."

"My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist in this facility, here to observe you, hoping it helps to find a cure. And there is no need for you to know my relationship status."

"Ah, ah, ah. If you don't tell me, you'll have to do this interview while gazing at my gorgeous body." You hear the cockiness in his voice.

"I swear to fu- fine, yes I'm currently happily single. Now, please put your shirt on." You mumble under your breath, "this is so inappropriate."

After a minute of rustling, Keigo leans back onto his bed. "Okay, my single baby bird. I'm all covered up for you."

You lower your clipboard just below your eyes to make sure, seeing the smirking bird man lounging on his bed with a shirt on. You finally lower your clipboard all the way before giving a curt nod. Making your way to the desk chair, you smile at the man.

"Thank you, Keigo. As I said before, my name is Y/N and I'm here to get to know you."

He snickers, "well, I'm here to answer any questions you have for me, baby bird. Fire away."

You sigh and open your notebook. "Must you call me such a name?"

"Awe, do you not like when I call you that?"

Sighing once more, you decide to just move on. You know you'll end up going in circles. "Please state your full name, age and date of birth for me."

"My name is Keigo Takami. I'm 28 years old. My birthday is December 28th." He paused to let you write that down before opening his mouth again. "Did you need my star sign and my relationship status? Well, I'm a Capricorn and I am definitely sin-"

"Nope, that's enough." You cut him off before he could ramble on even more. "Now, can you tell me what your quirk is exactly?"

Keigo blinks before turning around, the chains on his ankles clanking against the bed frame. Your eyes light up being able to actually see the giant, beautiful red bird wings coming from his back. You frowned slightly noticing they were pinned down, preventing him from being able to use them.

"Does that hurt? Having them pinned like that?" You tilt your head eyes following the edges of each feather.

Keigo lets out a quiet chuckle, eyeing you from over his shoulder. "A little. But nothing I can't handle. Why, is my baby bird worried about little ole me?"

Your frown turns into a glare and you clear your throat. "So, what exactly can you do with these wings of yours?"

Keigo's mouth twitches into a smirk as he turns back around to face you. "Well, I can fly. And I can also disconnect each feather from my wings and use them individually."

You nod, not wanting to show how impressed you were, knowing he'd make a crack at it. You finish writing down that information before asking your next question. "Now, can you tell me why you are here?"

"Getting down to the nitty-gritty, I see. Well, I was arrested and charged with Drug Trafficking, Forgery and Assault." You look at him, motioning him to continue. He shrugs. "There isn't much else to it. I'm a mafia leader. This shit happens on a daily basis, for years. Just so happened that I eventually got caught, on account of a leak in my group. Fortunately, for me, I use other people to do the killing for me. So that means they couldn't get me with murder." He cocks his head. "Unfortunately, though, trafficking and forgery are also felonies, so. That's why I'm here."

"So you spent your life moving copious amounts of drugs, forging money and assaulting clients who did you wrong?"

Keigo thinks about your words for a moment and nods. "Essentially, yes."

"Alright then." You stand up and bow your head to the mafia leader who was watching you carefully. "I will take my leave, as I have one more inmate to see before the end of my shift." You head towards the door, but pause for a moment. "Oh, and Keigo?" You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "Your wings are beautiful."

Keigo's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly, watching you walk out that door. His face turns bright red after processing your words. He mutters under his breath, "oh, baby bird…"

After shutting the door behind you, you breathe out. Aizawa looks up from his phone. "How'd it go?"

You raise a brow, "what, you weren't watching me through the security cameras like before?"

"Oh, I was," he deadpanned. "But, visually, it didn't look as compromising as the last two visits. The cameras don't pick up audio."

"Well, besides the lack of clothing in the beginning and the incessant flirting, I was pleasantly surprised."

Aizawa looked at his watch. "Now, I think we have time for one more before we have to turn in paperwork and unchain the more dangerous inmates from their beds to give them some room to stretch out." Aizawa flips through the profiles before stopping on one. "How about Amajiki?"

You turn to his profile and scan the words in front of you. "A cannibal, huh. Well that's not something you see every day."

"I think he'd be good to end the day with. Despite him being, well, a cannibal, he's actually extremely reserved and quite timid. I don't think he'd try to hurt you or get close to you. He suffers from borderline personality disorder, as you see." Aizawa looks up from his notes and eyes you. "However, he is a level 10. He may come across as innocent and somewhat angelic, but remember, he is one of the most dangerous criminals in this facility. He has multiple murders under his belt. So just keep that in mind."

You nod your head, slightly bouncing with excitement. This one sounds quite interesting to you. You've never met a cannibal before and this one has a quirk that sounds intriguing. Aizawa sighs before turning away from Hawk's door and heading further down the long hallway. He stops in front of a heavy door and scans you in.

Once you step inside the white room, you furrow your brows, not really noticing anyone. That's when you hear a small whimper and a few muffled, stuttered words coming from the floor next to the bed.

"W-Who are you?"

You lean to the side to see an indigo-haired figure huddled against the wall between the desk and the bed. You notice his body is trembling, only his eyes visible through his bangs, his arms covering the rest of his face. Head tilted, you squat down from a distance and smile.

"Hi there, Amajiki. My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist at this facility. I'm here to talk to you and get to know you to help further our findings for a cure. I'd like to be friends, if that's possible." You reply gently. You can tell he's scared out of his mind.

He raises his head up, giving you a full view of his…

Muzzle?

"F-friends?"

Your eyes widen slightly. The bottom half of Amajiki's face, from his nose to under his chin, is completely covered by a silver muzzle. It's strapped around his head and locked in place by a padlock. Your eyes travel down to see his wrists chained together with quirk cancelling cuffs and, as you expected, both of his ankles are chained to the heavy duty bed frame.

"They have you muzzled like that?" You stare in disbelief, slightly angered at the treatment. You understand that he's a known cannibal, but to strap that heavy muzzle around his head on top of chains already weighing him down.

Amajiki nods shyly, "y-yeah. I guess it's because of the whole e-eating people… thing."

You sit yourself down on the floor across from him, your notes in your lap. "Is it uncomfortable?" He nods slowly, his eyes avoiding yours. You give him a small smile. "I'm sorry."

His eyes shoot to yours, confusion flashing through them. "Why are you sorry?"

"It...seems like a lot of you are possibly being mistreated here. I've noticed a few things here and there."

Amajiki's brows furrow. "And why should you care? W-We're criminals."

"True. However, this facility isn't supposed to be judge, jury and executioner. You're entitled to a fair trial, just like everyone else. That includes not being mistreated." Your smile never leaves your face as you look the man in the eyes. "I am not only here to research a cure, but make sure in doing so, it won't harm any of you. It'll be humane, I promise." Amajiki just stares at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh and click your pen. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Amajiki?" He shakes his head but stays quiet.

"Can you please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

"U-um. Tamaki Amajiki, 25, March 4th."

"Thank you. And what is your quirk?"

Amajiki hugs his knees tighter. "I-It's called Manifestation. Essentially, whatever I eat and digest, I can manifest as a body part."

Your leg bounces in excitement. "So, if you were to eat, let's say, Takoyaki, you can turn your hand into tentacles?" He nods his head. Your eyes light up. "That is incredible, Amajiki. That's such a powerful quirk!"

Amajiki's eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks that were partially hidden under his muzzle. This is the first time he's ever been thankful to have this thing attached to his face. "U-um, t-thanks."

You let out a soft giggle and continue writing in your notes. "Here's a little bit more of a difficult question, Amajiki. Can you please tell me why you are incarcerated in this facility?"

Amajiki stays quiet, not looking at you. You notice his hesitation. You think for a moment before looking around the room. Amajiki sneaks a glance at you, watching you look around the room. His brows furrow. "W-What are you…"

You finally spot the locations of the camera and move your body so your back was facing it. Ignoring his question, you place your pen down directly in front of you so only Amajiki can see. You furrow your brows in concentration and stick your tongue out as you hover your hand over your pen. To Amajiki's utter shock, the pen starts floating in the air.

"Y-You have a quirk?!"

You nod your head and release the pen from your power. "Yeah, I do. It's nothing fancy like yours, but it is a mutation, nonetheless. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who understands more of your situation than you might think. So that's why I wanted to show you." You smile at the man, who is looking at you with pure adoration. "Please, keep this to yourself. I don't know what Aizawa would do if he found out about it." 

"I-I won't tell anyone, I promise."

You giggle and sit back down in your original spot. "Thank you. Now, can you please tell me why you're in this facility?"

He nods his head, still slightly dazed about this new-found information. "I was charged with multiple counts of 1st degree murder a-and…" his voice drops to a whisper, "s-serial cannibalism."

You couldn't help your interest in the subject and started rambling. "Would you be so kind as to explain how this came about? Did you grow up into a family of cannibals or-"

"NO!" He lashes out, causing you to flinch slightly. He winces as your reaction, not intending to scare you. "N-no. Nothing like that. It happened… against my will, so to say?" Amajiki sighs and rests his chin on his arms, not meeting your eyes. "I was one of the only kids in my small town to have been born with a mutation. My parents tried to hide it, tried to hide me. I don't know if it was from fear of people hurting me or fear of everyone judging them for having me."

He blinks a few times before continuing. "The town I lived in was small, a bad side to say the least. Lots of low-lifes and gangs running around. Well, long story short, someone found out about me and what my quirk was. They kidnapped me and…" He trails off. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to yours, an uncomfortable and intense feeling overwhelming you. "They forced me to eat another person, someone with a quirk. They wanted to see if I could turn their power into my own."

He cocks his head and lets out a cackle, still making eye contact with you. "Can you believe that?! It actually worked! So what did they do? They forced me to eat ANOTHER quirk user. They wanted to turn me into an ultimate weapon." Amajiki lets out a strange noise, sounding like a mixture between a guttural sob and a laugh. "Well, the joke was on them in the end. I ended up killing and eating them in the end and escaping. But after that point, something mutated further in my quirk. I couldn't stop craving human flesh." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "A-And that's why I'm here now."

Your eyes are wide and your breath is heavy. Something inside you feels a sense of panic, looking at the clearly broken man in front of you. It's so much information to take in, you stay quiet for awhile, your body on high alert. Amajiki notices how quiet you are and he opens his eyes. He notices a terrified look on your face and internally panics.

"W-Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I-I'm not going to hurt you." He finally moves out from his huddled form and kneels instead, the sound of chains clinking together snapping you out of it. "I-I would n-never hurt you." He whispers the last part, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

You clear your throat after taking a few deep breaths. "T-Thank you for telling me this, Amajiki. It was really brave of you to relive those experiences." You look at him and notice the fear and concern in his face. Giving him a small smile, you close your notebook. "I'm fine, I promise." You stand up on shaky legs and bow your head. "I need to get going."

Amajiki quickly stands up, making you slightly flinch again, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "Y-You're leaving already? Will I get to see you again?"

"You will. I'm an employee here now, so I'll be the one to check up on all the inmates and work on everyone's individual sessions." You turn your back and walk to the door. "I'll see you later, Amajiki."

The indigo-haired man watches you walk through his door, longing written across his face. The only thing running through his mind are thoughts of the pretty telekinesis that made his heart race.

Once out the door, Aizawa meets you in the hallway. "How'd it go with the man-eater?"

You scowl at the doctor. "Why do you say things like that? He has a name."

"He's a criminal, Y/N. They're all criminals. Shouldn't matter what we call them." He rolls his eyes. "Just come with me. We have to finish our paperwork before the end of the day."

You grumble under your breath but follow the tired-looking doctor to his office. "You also need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. You will be meeting Kaminari, Midoriya, Shinso, Bakugo, Todoroki, Dabi and Kai. And 5 out of the 7 are level 8 and above."

~~~

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[If your name is bolded, I wasn’t able to tag you]

#mha #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #mha angst #mha horror #yandere midoriya #yandere bakugou #yandere todoroki #yandere shinso #yandere kirishima #yandere kaminari #yandere amajiki #yandere hawks #yandere dabi #yandere overhaul #yandere tokoyami #bakuhoes-dumbass #bakuhoes dumbass

[thefanficmonster]

Infatuation

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤

“Um, what are you doing?“

I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?

I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.

“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“

“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”

He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”

Alright, this man-child needs some serious help

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“

“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.

Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”

                                                              *  *  *

“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.

I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.

“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.

We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.

I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.

“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“

I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”

He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”

I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”

It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”

His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.

“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment. 

Just kidding....unless...

“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“

I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”

“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.

“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.

“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.

“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.

“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“

Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible. 

Tsk, so much for gratitude

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You notice a sudden change in Lord Barnes.

Note: This is just me being self-indulgent. I start a new job on Monday and yesterday, someone close to me passed. I’m trying to distract myself but I’m too stressed to work on an standing series. This will have at least one other part.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You scattered fresh herbs over the rushes carefully as you backed down the hall. The woven mats would absorb the scent and keep the floors tidy until the next sweep. When you reached the corner, you tied up the sachet and gathered up your bucket and broom. The corridors were already smelling fresher though the task had kept you well past the evening meal. 

Your usual chores you assigned to Marjorie. As the years piled on her crooked back, she wasn’t as suited to the more physical tasks. Sweeping would have been too hard on her and you didn’t mind the solitary of the work.

You turned past the kitchens and stopped. Your footsteps seemed to echo behind you. You looked back but saw nothing in the shadows. It was late and most of the castle was asleep already, the torches were snuffed but for a few and you could find you way through the dark easily in the familiar castle.

You went to the rear door of the castle on the lower green, just beside the stables, and dumped the dirt. You heard the horses snoring and nicking as the moon shone down on the wood roofs. You basked for a moment in the silver light and the brisk night air. The harvest season was coming to an end and it would soon be cold.

You dropped the bar as you went back inside and returned your broom and bucket to the cellar. Again you heard a step that did not quite align with your own as you came into the corridor. You spun slowly and glanced around. Some of the younger servants were known to sneak around after hours and there was the odd mouse that skittered over the stone. You saw nothing and went on, more than ready to retire to your straw mattress beside Elsa.

“You sent the old lady,” the voice had your heart in your throat and you stopped short to bow to your liege.

“My lord, I was occupied elsewhere. Harold approved the reassignment,” you said shakily. It was unlike him to traverse the lower floors.

“She spilled wine on my tunic,” Lord Barnes said, “and she can barely see her own crooked nose.”

“My lord, she is old, we did not want her to tax herself--”

“She is a servant. Like you. You have your work and she has hers,” he stepped forward out of the dark shadows though there was no lantern or torch to limn his features, “I bid you to bring my meals and tidy my chambers, no one else. There are far too many covetous servants.”

You were put off by his confrontation. You replaced his former chambermaid several years back but Lord Barnes hardly seemed to warm to the change. He never offered more than an obligatory courtesy and when he was present during your tasks, he rarely spoke at all. Your service had been one of complacency on both sides, so you wondered why he would come to the lower floors to search you out after dark.

“I will be there tomorrow, my lord,” you said, “I apologise for my negligence.”

“And every day thus,” he demanded as he got closer.

“Yes, my lord,” you lowered your chin, “as you wish.”

He stopped only an inch from you and you felt him staring down at you. You didn’t dare look back, that would be an affront to any noble. He let out a long breath and slowly backed away.

“Go, you must be worn out from your hard work,” he retreated, “and there is as much to do on the morrow.”

“My lord,” you bent again and listened to his footsteps fade.

When you dared to look up, he was gone. The man was always particular, even those of his own standing were not guaranteed an audience, even as they visited his estate. He stayed far from court since his injury and on those occasions he did travel to the capital, it was not for more than a fortnight. 

You did not take the encounter lightly. He had dismissed labour for less and you did not relish a job outside the castle, there wasn’t much to be had in the village. As dull as the work was, it provided you a place to sleep and comforts not known to many others of your breeding.

🏰

When you went to the lord’s chambers the next morning, he was away. His horse had been saddled for an early ride and you did not expect him until his evening meal. After your tasks, you kept busy until you were due with his supper. When you arrived with the tray, he was not there. You waited but he did not appear. You left the tray covered to keep the food warm and went to attend the last of your nightly duties.

You retired without seeing the lord once. The next day passed in kind, and the next, and the next. You wondered for a moment if it was due to his ire with you but quickly shrugged away the notion. Lord Barnes did not think so much of you and his absence was not so unusual. He was a reticent man even if he was willful.

The first you saw him again was with his supper. He sat at his large carved desk as you entered with the tray and you crossed to the round painted table. He raised a hand and tutted as he didn’t look up from the parchment before him.

“Bring it here,” he ordered.

You went to him and set down the tray on the left flank of his desk. You filled his goblet and he blindly reached over to take it. He gulped and kept his head down as he picked the chicken to pieces and chewed over the inky words.

You retraced your steps to the door, usually he ate alone, as he did most things. You only returned to clear his scraps.

“Do you not see the mess?” he asked without looking up. You turned and followed his sharp point to the shelves along the wall. “It is difficult to focus in the chaos.”

“My lord,” you nodded and went to the oaken shelves. You rearranged the crooked spines and tidied the stack of loose leaves. You took the cloth from your apron and wiped down the line of inkwells. You could hear him chewing quietly behind you as he shifted in his chair.

“And you will ready my bed for the night,” he demanded as you finished up, “pull back the covers, it’s been a tiresome day.”

He lifted the parchment and leaned back as he wiped his fingers on his breeches. You acquiesced with a “yes, my lord,” and went to his bedchamber. 

You folded down the heavy blankets and linen and fluffed the pillows. You took the brick from the foot of the bed and set it in the hearth. The fall slipped in through the windows and the chill of the castle was no longer so welcomed.

“I won’t need that,” Barnes said as he entered. He was so quiet, you jumped and stood straight. You spun and bowed your head.

“Will that be all, my lord?” you asked as he unbuttoned his overcoat with one hand.

“My footman has been stricken with an ague after we were caught in the rain,” he said evenly, “you can aid with my wardrobe.”

“My lord?”

“Here,” he pointed in front of him and pulled his jacket free of his left arm, “you will take these,” he handed you the garment as you neared, “to the laundries.”

You kept your eyes on the plain grey fabric as he shoved his boots aside and added his socks to your armful, then lifted his tunic as you peered at the floor. He pulled of the leather glove that hid his iron hand, the metal forged to the mirror of his real extremity. You resisted the yen to look higher up the artificial appendage.

You were unprepared to act as his footman and as he stripped away his layers it made you squirm. He rolled down his breeches and slung them over the rest of his clothes.

He stood in only in his undershorts and bent your head lower, “my lord.” You backed away and he caught your elbow. He stopped you and you hugged the pile of clothes with your other arm.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asked.

The question struck you. You were unsure how to answer. You were used to the silent, brooding lord, not this pensive, prodding master.

“My lord?” you frowned.

“You didn’t?” he urged, “do you not enjoy your duties?”

“I am only… uncertain of what you mean, my lord. I apologise for my displeasing response but I do not know how to answer.”

You looked at his hand still on your elbow. He squeezed and slowly his palm glided up your sleeve. You shivered as he pushed his hand against your neck and his thumb tickled under your chin.

“I must confess I missed you,” he said, “I did stay away because I was upset at your absence and thought to punish you in kind but it seems, it hasn’t had the same effect.”

“What do-- my lord?” you kept your eyes down as his hand moved higher and he brushed along your lower lip.

“I know I shouldn’t let these… feelings persist but there are many lords who indulge without emotion. I assure you, I do not touch you in a meaningless manner.”

“My lord,” you took a step back and he stopped you again. This time his hand gripped your jaw. He pulled you flush to him.

“Look at me,” he hissed. Your lip trembled and you raised your eyes reluctantly, “you continue to deflect me; your lord.”

You stared at him, searched his deep blue eyes desperately, and shivered, “I only seek to fulfill my duties as your chambermaid.”

“And I offer you more. Offer you… privilege over duty,” he rasped, “I would not mistreat you.”

Your heart raced and you wiggled in his grasp. You peeked down at your armful, “I should get these to the laundries, as you bid, my lord.”

He was silent, just for a moment, then he let go of you and tore his clothes from your arm. “You would deny me?”

You stumbled back and watched him fearfully, “my lord, I only-- I am only a maid--”

“I have a dozen maids,” he growled, “I would have you as more. I would take care of you.”

He bore down on you again and you backed up until you were at the hearth, the mantle jutting out against your head. You turned your head as he loomed over you and his hot breath washed over you. His hand was again at your throat as his lips trailed along your cheek.

“A lord does not ask,” he sneered, “a servant obeys.”

“My lord--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours. He parted, his nose rubbing against yours as his hand stretched over your neck, “I can be kind or I can be cruel. Thus far, I’ve spent most of my patience on you.”

You quivered as he kissed you again. You were too afraid to resist as his hand descended to your bodice and he squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smiled against you. He grasped your waist and pressed himself to you.

Your blood went cold as the panic rose up your spine. As he tugged at your skirts, you were blinded by fear. You reached up along the mantle as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t think through your shock, your body seemed to move off instinct.

You grasped the beaten metal vase and swung it down on Lord Barnes’ head. He grunted and stumbled back as he touched his head and tried to shake away the pain of the impact. You tossed the vase and it bounced over the stone as you scurried for the door. You tripped as you reached the receiving chamber and heard him behind you, his steps slowly gaining strength.

“You little bitch,” his tone turned to fire.

You struggled to get the heavy door open and raced into the hall. You lifted your skirts as you barreled ahead of him on the stone. Your thin soles slapped the mats and you hurdled down the stairs as you heard his pants coupled with your own. Down and down and down and down.

You led him through the mazed corridors and flitted out through the lower doors behind the stables. You fell into the dirt and quickly climbed back to your feet. You tore off across the yard as he swore into the air and his steps came to a halt.

“I will find you!” he shouted as you head for the wall, your only hope was the tree winding up the east corner, “You won’t get far!” You reached the trunk of the towering oak and your hands scraped against the bark as you hopped and latched onto the lowest branch. You heard him calling to others, “saddle my horse! Rise and ready my horse, boy!”

You reached the top of the wall, weak and worn and hooked your leg over the stone. You carefully scaled the uneven brickwork and the tangled vines. As your feet met the dirt, you turned and fled towards the tree line, darkened with the myths of vengeful wraiths and wicked witches, driven by the threat of a worse monster behind you, the voices and hooves an omen of his intent.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #fic #miniseries #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #winter soldier

[dark1k]

*slides into messages*

Hello, I am here to request. there’s lots of troubles Connor in RK1K let’s have some troubled Markus.

❛ you can’t save everyone. ❜

Troubled Markus my beloved <3 I took some liberty with this quote and I hope you like the result, thank you for requesting!

•••

“You’re frustrated with me.”

Connor was walking beside him, but his eyes stayed straight ahead and Markus noticed how his LED kept switching between intervals of yellow and red. He doesn’t remember a time, barring their first meeting in the helm of the ship, where he saw the other so exasperated.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connor said, his voice flat and distant. Angry, then. Teetering towards furious. They reached New Jericho’s main office and Connor opened it, not bothering to wait for Markus to enter first, as he usually would. Instead, he strolled across the room directly to his desk and started shuffling through his DPD files with fervent speed.

Markus sighed and followed him inside, closing the door behind them.

“You seriously didn't expect me to just stand around and watch as that helpless android got mistreated, do you?” Markus asked, puzzled as to why they were having this conversation.

“Yes, I’m aware that you had to insert yourself in a dangerous situation, despite the fact that I was standing right beside you. An investigative, police android who was specifically designed to both handle and deescalate those types of scenes, thank you.” Connor was never this cold with him. They’d never been cold with each other. Everything was warm and electric; their discussions, how they woke up tangled in blankets, and whenever they grabbed onto the other's body in a desperate intensity.

“I had to help,” Markus hesitantly answered, touching his cheek and feeling how his polymer skin was starting to cover a scrape he got in the scuffle. Turns out their perpetrator had a strong right hook, but the leader barely felt his punch in the heat of the moment. “I led the revolution, Connor, I have a responsibility to our people. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t help.”

“A responsibility?” Connor’s tone became incredulous, “How chivalrous of you.”

Markus dropped his briefcase on his desk, his own anger steadily rising. Why was this turning into an argument? If anything, they should be brainstorming future legislation ideas to prevent these kinds of anti-android crimes; they only encountered this one because they had some downtime in between meetings and decided to take a walk in the nearby park. “Well, I had it under control. I stopped the attacker and kept him restrained until DPD arrived — I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this when it doesn’t even affect you, Connor!”

Connor slammed the file he was holding with such force that Markus jumped, papers scattering across the desk. “Doesn’t affect me?! Are you serious? What if he had a concealed weapon, a knife or a gun, and used it? What if he wasn’t acting alone and you were suddenly outnumbered? You just run into these situations with no regard for your personal well-being, Markus! In case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t fighting in the revolution anymore!” Connor’s face was flushed a bright blue, his chest panting from the pressure of his shouts.

“Stop needlessly sacrificing yourself! Do you have a death wish? You can’t save everyone!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Markus was screwed. He took a cautious step forward, “No! Of course I don’t want that to happen, Connor! I won’t ever let it get that far." Yeah, he definitely feels like an idiot now.

Connor shook his head and turned away, looking out their shared office window to the bustling streets of Detroit below. “Yes, well. It doesn’t matter what you want. You’re a public figurehead, there’s always going to be a risk when it comes to your safety for the rest of your life. But you clearly don’t seem to care about protecting yourself, let alone how your actions affect those in your life. What do you think I would do if you were ever seriously harmed? What about North, Josh, Simon, or the thousands of androids who see you as an inspiration?”

Markus stared at his back, embarrassed in the wake of such words. He never thought of it from their perspective, believing it was better for him to endure the pain rather than another android. He was almost tempted to drop to his knees and beg for Connor to understand, to forgive him. It was their first argument as a couple and the whiplash felt horrible. “Con, wait a minute.”

“No, you wait.” Connor snapped, shoving his fidgeting hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, don’t you understand? It scares me, keeps me awake at night. It’s exhausting, constantly being reminded of the dangers circulating you.” Markus noticed how he curled in on himself, the spark that ignited their fight seemingly drained from his body. All that remained was a weary sense of defeat.

Markus felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, having been the one who caused the android he loved and cared for more than life itself, to feel anything other than happiness.

He took another slow step forward, raising his hands in the gesture of universal surrender. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being careless when it comes to my safety and I’m sorry for not being more sympathetic of your feelings about it.” He saw Connor turn his head slightly, just enough to glance at Markus for a quick moment, but not enough to fully face him. Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Markus closed the last bit of distance and stood in Connor’s personal space.

“I just... hate seeing our people abused. How there are injustices done against them, after months of us tirelessly fighting and advocating for the right to live peacefully. But Connor, I swear, I do not want nor would I ever do anything that might endanger you or our relationship. I would be the biggest idiot to place something so important, so special, at jeopardy.” Bending down to stare into honey-colored eyes, Markus stressed his next statement. “I promise, I won’t jump head-first into those kinds of situations again. It was stupid. I’ll be better about cautioning myself, I’m sorry. Again."

Connor quirked a reluctant smile and muttered, “You sound like a broken record.” Turning to face him for the first time since barging into their office, he continued, “Thank you for understanding, I’m also sorry for yelling at you, Markus.”

But Markus just shook his head, indicating that he had nothing to apologize for. “Are we okay?”

Instead of nodding, Connor simply held up his hand and peeled back his polymer skin, sunlight gleaming off the white porcelain beneath. Markus did the same and accepted the request for an interface immediately. Fear from the attack, unease from their fight, and immense amounts of love easily flowed between both androids. It was a loop of growth and acceptance, a learning experience.

Their argument was settled and forgiven by the time they left New Jericho that evening.

#rk1k #rk1000 #dbh markus #dbh connor #dbh #markus x connor #detroit become human #angst #my writing #tense situations are fun to explore #with healthy conflict resolutions of course #they listen they grow they learn in this essay I will-

[nickyhemmick]

A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon, 

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer. 

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds. 

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years. 

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular. 

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated.  Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated. 

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering? 

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.) 

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years. 

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices. 

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you. 

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime. 

Free Palestine. 

#palestine #israel #west bank #tala gets asks #anon #whew this ask took me like 2-3 hours to respond to #pls read it even if ure not the anon #lots of good links and info #palestine tag #anon there are more reading lists in my #to read #and palestine tag tags #check my likes on twitter too if u decide btw not just what i retweet #like also: imagine palestinians around palestine and the world who are simply waiting to hear if their relatives are dead or alive or #have been striked from a rocket. like i can see my father worried abt his friend in gaza rn like any day #now he can just never hear back from him and have to guess hes dead somewhere beneath the rubble #and israelis are anxious at the rocket sounds? good for them but again that shows the asymmetry in #palestinian vs israeli suffering #and by ‘good for them’ i mean good that thats what theyre worried abt compared to palestinians #my aunt is in sheikh jarrah #my cousin lives right by the al aqsa square #again theres so much more i couldve mentioned and talked abt but theres just so much #theres so many LAYERS i wld say but not that its complicated #and definitely theres more i need to learn and read and watch dont get me wrong! i am not a fountain of knowledge by all means!!!!

[wtf-yoongi]

Softie. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | just a morning with min yoongi 🥺

prompts | “i love you more than coffee.” *distant gasps* + “every morning you kiss my forehead before i leave for work, why was it my lips today?” from this prompt list.

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + very domestic

words | 1,990

note | i wanted to write something like this and then it fitted the prompt someone requested two ages ago and it became way too long for a timestamp and here we are

Very rarely does something beat the smell of black tea in the morning. Not any black tea, but this one in particular.

Forget it, nothing beats it.

The earthy tones coming from the leaves are enough to get you excited about your day and you’re careful not to scoop too much from the fancy, squared, tin box. It is, after all, precious and expensive — it seems like it gets pricier and pricier every time you restock it, almost to the point you’re begging the clerk for a discount.

You know it’s too much and you should stop spending money with that, the same money that could buy you enough tea for a whole year, but this is exactly the way luxury items go. Just above average, pretty packaging, minimalistic logo and a warm feeling in your heart from doing something special for yourself.

Like a ritual, you twirl the spoon and breathe in the steam coming from the pot before closing the lid. The instructions say you should brew it for three minutes and you’re proud to say you haven’t got that wrong once — not even on the day of your sister’s wedding, when she called saying she burned her ring finger, accidentally saw her fiancée and there was a real possibility of them not moving forward with the ceremony that day.

Even though she married with the ring on her middle finger, since the other one was bandaged, everything worked out. A little bit like a sitcom from the 90’s, but it did — in the end, it always did. That’s why you spend way too much money on that tea, because something about it makes things just work somehow. It’s unexplainable, quite magical and, to be honest, a little childish, but you love it.

Naturally, your hands start moving while the three minutes pass, refilling the kettle with water when you hear the shower stop running like you do every single day. In between the tea being served on a mug and his lazy morning footsteps, there’s only enough time for you to eat your peach yogurt.

“Hmm,” he hums and you can hear him getting closer as he speaks. “Treating yourself today, huh?”

You guess Yoongi can smell the black tea as well.

As you’re focused on adding the perfect amount of honey to your mug, there’s no time to turn or even look up at him coming into the kitchen with a sleepy and sweet look on his face. In such a small room, it only takes a heartbeat for him to stand next to you, leaving a quick kiss on your temple and short squeeze on the curve of your hips.

“Any special occasion I should know of?”

“Not really.” You shrug and, for a moment, Yoongi’s aftershave replaces the smell of tea completely. It’s fresh, clean and light, like most things he enjoys without noticing. “I just wanted something different.”

“I’m jealous, I want something fancy too,” he says without any weight to his voice, reaching for the coffee beans placed at the farthest corner of the pantry — the ones he also saves for very few mornings. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod quickly and excitedly, turning ninety degrees to open the refrigerator in search of milk. “I had to. There’s this big presentation today I’ve been preparing for five…”

“So there is something special going on.”

You stop in your tracks to look at Yoongi’s knowing smile, coffee grinder in front of him rumbling and doing its job while he waits.

“You’re a creature of habit, you know that, right? You wouldn’t drink this specific tea if something wasn’t going on.”

You smile at him, finally moving again to add a dash of milk to the mug and mixing it to check if it was enough. “If you weren’t so emotionless, I’d say that’s romantic.”

“Oh, you want romantic?” Yoongi’s tone goes up an octave, mocking you a little. “Fine. How about I love you more than coffee. In fact, I love you more than the smell of freshly ground beans in the morning and you know I love that very much. How about that, huh?”

It’s your turn to mock his words. “Oh, wow,” you gasp, raising a hand to the center of your chest. “How am I going to move on from this? I better email them saying I won’t be able to make it today. After this? Woof! No way I’ll be presenting anything but fifty slides of my favorite Yoongi pick-up lines.”

“That would be a satisfied client, don’t you think?” He plays along, adding the coffee to a French press and topping it with the water you just boiled. “Oh, do you want some toast? I feel like eating toast for some reason.”

And just like that, with Yoongi reaching for the toaster above your head, you’re both interested in something else. He pinches your side with his free hand and you take a step to your left, giving him enough space to place the appliance on top of the marble counter.

“You do have time for toast, right?” Yoongi asks as he turns it on and starts looking for bread. “I don’t want to make you late, the first two can be yours.”

“The tea is still a little too hot, I have time.”

“Good.” He nods shortly. “Sit down. These will be done in no time.”

You watch as Yoongi reaches for plates, knives, butter, strawberry jam and places all of them on the small kitchen table. Meanwhile, you sip the tea slowly, quietly enjoying it and, deep down, wishing for it to work its magic once again.

“Are you nervous about the presentation?” Yoongi asks just as he places two perfectly toasted slices of bread in front of you. He soon moves back to set two more on the toaster and turns to you again, waiting for an answer.

“I’m okay. It’s been worse.” You shrug, focusing on the butter as it melts when it meets the warm toast. “This client is nice. Even if they don’t agree with something, it’s not like…”

“Don’t bring Mr. Moon up again,” Yoongi warns you, slightly uncomfortable and somewhat ready to politely offend Mr. Moon if he ever showed up in front of him. “I’m still not over that. Who does he think he is to mistreat everyone because of a grammar mistake?”

You laugh at the way he seems so bothered by that. “It was a good thing, though, don’t you think? We kicked him out because we didn’t need his business if it meant we had to deal with that.”

“Serves him right,” he huffs. “He was being an ass for a long time, the grammar incident was just the tipping point.”

“And you don’t even know about the emails he sent to the junior analysts. He would literally…”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts with a tight smile and warm eyes, nothing but light humor in his words. “Don’t make me hate him more. This is bad for myself, I have to be the better person.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a smile, taking a bite and adding a few words in a muffled voice. “He’s a problem of the past. And a solved one, thank God.”

You swallow just as Yoongi sits in front of you with perfectly done toasts for himself. He adds butter and strawberry jam to both of them before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re not nervous about this stuff anymore.”

“I’m glad too,” you admit and take a sip of the magical tea before continuing. “Shaky hands are also a problem of the past.”

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you. This sort of thing is not easy to overcome.” 

You giggle. “Yoon, you’re getting soft again.”

“When am I not?” He takes a bite and soon covers his mouth, not being able to stop a smile from forming. “I am a softie, this is who I am.”

“No, but you’re particularly soft today, I think. It all started when you were whining about me leaving the bed,” you say while getting up to place your plate in the sink. When you turn around, Yoongi is looking at you with what you can only describe as adoring eyes. “See? This is what I mean. Do you have a mirror? Look at yourself, there’s nothing not soft about you today.”

He’s the one giggling now, motioning for you to move with the hand that’s not busy with a toast. “Go finish getting ready, you’re going to be late!”

You hurry out of the kitchen with a smile, soon entering the bathroom to brush your teeth. It’s still kind of foggy, nothing but the perfume of Yoongi’s shower gel everywhere, and you have to wipe the mirror with a towel to see yourself properly.

The nervousness could be worse, yes, but it’s still there a little — well, today is the day you’ve been preparing for the last five weeks and there’s a lot at stake. You inhale and exhale deeply, concentrating on the goal rather than the challenge. What happens, happens, but you’re pretty sure you’ve done everything you could and that’s enough to leave you satisfied no matter the outcome.

“Yoongi, I’m leaving!” You call out, fixing a strap on your shoulder and immediately feeling the weight of the laptop and the heavy (but pretty) leather notebook you bought last fall — another one of the luxury items you treated yourself with. When you look up, the man is standing with another one of his knowing smiles and a thermos in hand.

“Were you really not going to drink every single drop of the tea you spend way too much money on?” He raises an eyebrow, extending his arm so you can take the travel mug from him. “I know you’re good and don’t need the magic from the tea, but…”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly, slapping his hand in the process. “And thank you.”

“Come here.”

Yoongi slowly takes a step to meet you halfway, hug awkward given the weight on your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. He’s warm, inviting and has a comforting hand on your back while the other moves to cradle your jaw.

“I told you you’re particularly soft today,” you say just as he creates enough space to look into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. You barely have time to register what is going on or close your eyes and it’s already over.

“Are you sure? Because every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work,” you point out, one eyebrow raised in doubt, but eyes as soft as his. “Why was it my lips today?”

“You may not notice, but the taste of black tea and honey on your lips…” He hums, closing his eyes to show just how much he likes it. “So good.”

“But I brushed my teeth.”

He leans in again and, this time, stays for a while longer — not barely enough for you, but you’d take anything with a smile.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still there.” He turns both your bodies, getting them closer and closer to the door. “Do you think this happens because the tea is that good and strong? Or maybe it’s because you don’t really do a good job brushing your teeth…”

“Ah, Yoongi!"

Before you know it, Yoongi is simultaneously opening the door, leaving another kiss on the corner of your mouth and pushing your body out. It seems like only a second has passed, but you find yourself right in front of the door when Yoongi is inside with only his head peeking through. 

“Don’t just stand there, you’re going to be late! Call me when the presentation is over and you have a yes, okay?”

He closes the door, but you can still hear him giggle on the inside.

Read more ›› masterlist

#min yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi x you #bts fluff #bts suga #suga imagine #suga fluff #yoongi fluff

[yellowsuitcase]

Brother dearest // Draco Malfoy

Request:  Can you write a draco x potter!reader where harry is your twin and he finds out the relationship between draco and reader and over protective harry in general? 🤍

A/N: This is pretty short but I think it’s quite funny and charming. I hope you enjoy it! Should I start writing for Harry???

Summary: Harry finds out about his twin sister’s relationship with Malfoy.

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

Y/N breathed heavily as she peaked her head out from behind the wall. She watched as Harry and his friends walked down the hallway and disappeared from sight. A sigh of relief left her lips, and she turned back to the boy beside her.

“That was close, Dray. Too close,” she scolded him. Her boyfriend nodded his head, put his hands on her shoulders, and began to rub up and down.  

“It was, but he didn’t see us; we’re okay,” Draco assured her. They had been walking together, hand in hand, down what they thought was an empty hallway. However, when Y/N heard the familiar voice of her twin brother, Harry, she had grabbed Draco and whisked him behind the wall, successfully hiding him. 

She and the Slytherin had been dating for nearly a month and somehow had managed to keep it a secret from Harry. Y/N feared how he’d react if he discovered them. Draco wasn’t exactly the nicest to Harry, and should he find out his own sister was dating his bully...well, it wouldn’t be fun. And that's why Y/N had been going to extreme lengths to prevent Harry from finding out. That conversation wasn’t one she wished to have. She could imagine the look of betrayal that would undoubtedly appear on his face.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Draco asked, pulling his girlfriend from her thoughts. Sighing, Y/N dropped her head forwards, letting it rest on his chest. Her lover chuckled and wrapped his arms around her torso. The couple stood in each other’s arms until the bell rang. Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away and headed off to class. Because not only were they hiding their relationship from Harry, they were hiding it from the entire school.

--------

{A few weeks later}

There was a knock at Y/N’s door. She was sitting in her dorm, studying for her Potions quiz, but dropped her quill and walked to the door. When she opened it, she narrowed her eyes. “What do you want, Harry? I’m studying,” she told him. But her twin ignored her and pushed past her, heading for her trunk beside her bed. 

“Hey! What the fuck?” she yelled as he flipped it open and began rummaging through it. Y/N slammed the door and stomped over to her brother. Angrily, she shoved him away and hastily shut her trunk. “Why are you here? Get out!” she shouted. Harry pointed at her accusingly.

“I know you’ve taken it,” he growled. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. 

“Taken what? I haven’t touched your shit, Harry.” 

“The map, it’s gone,” he confessed, his shoulders heaving. Y/N shrugged and gestured around her room. 

“I don’t have it, but go ahead, look around,” she spat. She couldn’t believe his audacity sometimes. What a prat.

Harry tilted his head. “Fine, I will,” he responded. Then he walked over to her nightstand and yanked the drawer open. Y/N rolled her eyes and flopped onto her bed, letting her eyelids shut, and her body relax. She knew eventually that Harry would give up and leave her alone, so she’d resigned to just waiting it out. 

This went on for a good five minutes; Y/N relaxing while Harry tore her room apart. But then, he spoke up. “What’s this?” he asked, his tone scarily stern. Y/N opened one eye and spotted her brother standing by her desk, a pristine piece of parchment in his hands. She instantly recognized it as a letter she received from Draco. Panic flooded her senses, and she jumped off her mattress. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” she started. Harry glared at her and gripped the letter tighter. 

“Oh, so you’re not dating Malfoy? Then what’s this?” he questioned. She could tell he had already read it. Y/N reached for the parchment, but Harry held it high above her head. 

“Harry, cut it out. I’m not dating him, don’t be ridiculous,” she said nervously, trying to convince him. But he could see right through her. He turned to the letter and read out loud its contents.

“My dearest, Y/N. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up by the lake later this afternoon. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to find a spot where we can sit together away from prying eyes. If not today, perhaps tomorrow? Let me know as soon as you can. I look forward to seeing you. Love, Draco.”

Y/N felt her heart sink as Harry’s rage-filled eyes bored into her skull. The jig was up; there wasn’t anything she could say that would make him believe she and Draco weren’t together. 

“How long have you been with him?” he asked. Y/N stared at her feet, her lips shut tight. She couldn’t bring herself to answer her brother. The sound of a sigh piqued her interest, but she kept her head down, not wanting to see the disappointed look on his face.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll ask him myself,” he said while turning towards the door. 

“No!” Y/N shouted. Harry paused and spun to face her again. Y/N gulped down her pride and answered him. “It’s been a month.” Her brother pursed his lips and shook his head in disbelief. But then, to Y/N’s surprise, he brought her into a hug. Hesitantly, she hugged him back, very confused as to what was going on. 

“Is he good to you?” Harry asked suddenly. Y/N backed away from him and gave him a look, letting the silence hang in the air.

“He is. Are you not...angry?” Y/N asked. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I was going to be, but if he’s truly good to you, and you really like him, then who am I to be angry at you for being happy?” Harry asked. Y/N pulled him back into a hug and squeezed him tightly as relief washed over her.

“Thank Merlin. I was so afraid you’d hate me, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” she explained, but Harry waved her off. 

“You do annoy the hell out of me, but you’re my sister. I could never hate you, not really,” he said with a smile. “However, I do want to have a word with Draco,” he admitted. Y/N’s grin immediately dropped. The idea of Harry and Draco having that conversation struck fear into her heart. But before she could try to talk him out of it, there were four distinct knocks at her door. Without thinking, Harry walked to the door and opened it to find himself face to face with the devil himself.

“Hello, Malfoy,” he said with a condescending smile. “Come in.” The fear on Draco’s face was painfully apparent, and he shot Y/N a very concerned look. She could only give him a nervous smile as Harry beckoned him inside and shut the door behind him. 

“So, you’ve been dating my sister,” he stated. Draco’s head whipped towards Y/N, who nodded gently, telling him it was okay. The Slytherin cleared his throat. “Yeah, I have.”

Harry crossed his arms and stared at Draco intensely. “Look, I don’t like you, Malfoy, and you don’t like me. However, I’ll tolerate you dating my sister because if this,” he gestured to Malfoy, “is what she wants, then so be it. But I swear to god if you ever mistreat her in any way, I will not hesitate to hex the shit out of you,” he threatened. Draco chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood. But also, he had no clue what to say.

“I’m not joking. If you hurt Y/N, I’ll hurt you,” Harry spat. Draco awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and nodded his head. The tension was almost tangible. But then Y/N clapped her hands and broke the silence, causing both boys to turn to her.

“This has been...wonderful, but uhm, Harry, if you could exit?” she asked, trying to get her brother to leave. But when he made no move to leave, she took things into her own hands, literally. She put her palms on his back and pushed him towards the door. Harry glared at Draco the entire time but let himself be guided out of the dorm. “Bye, don’t come back!” Y/N called after him as she shut the door. With a sigh, she turned around and rested her back against the door. Draco let out a sigh along with her.

“That went...well?” he stated, but really it was more of a question. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “It was better than expected. At least he’s not angry,” she replied optimistically. Draco walked over to her and took her into his arms, inhaling deeply. Y/N's heart squeezed as her lover held her.  She could feel the tenseness in her muscles fade away. 

“You do know he’ll be watching you like a hawk now, don’t you?” she teased. Draco grumbled to himself but nodded his head.

“Yeah, I suppose so. But I’ll deal with Potter if it means I can finally show you off and let people know you’re mine.” Y/N laughed and pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck. 

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dixiethemorab24 @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru @dracosgoodgirl

#Draco Malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x yn #draco malfoy imagines #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x potter!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #harry potter sister #potter!reader #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #draco fluff

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 13 (Final)

~ Previous Part ~

Gavin couldn’t stop himself from turning over his shoulder to look at Rael, who apparently had information about his theft from the alteon diplomat. Immediately, Gavin was suspicious. What information could Rael possibly have about something he hadn’t witnessed? Anything he knew that the Emperor wouldn’t already, would have to have come from Gavin himself… “Oh shit, he’s not really talking about that is he?”

What did Rael hope to gain in telling the Emperor that Gavin had been commissioned to steal from the diplomat? Was he just doing his duty as a soldier by divulging everything he knew? Or was there something more to it? When Gavin had first told Rael that he had been hired to steal the ring, he’d seemed surprised, but hadn’t expressed any desire to confess the truth. Then again, Gavin had already proven unable to read Rael.

“Very well, go ahead,” the Emperor prompted, hands folded on the table as he looked at Rael with interest.

Gavin stared back at his former captor, unable to take his eyes off the giant man. “While Gavin Stone chose not to disclose this to the public, in our time together he did reveal to me that he was in fact hired by a third party to burgle Lady Elyth,” Rael explained smoothly. “So while Gavin Stone did perform the actual deed, the idea was not his own.” His voice had the same formal, all business tone it’d had when Gavin first met him, and yet this time there was a vague hint of...was it desperation? No, it couldn’t be. Gavin had to be just imagining things at this point.

The Emperor gave an interested hum. “Intriguing,” he remarked before turning to look at Gavin. “Is this true?” he inquired.

While Gavin hadn’t been planning on explaining the full circumstances of the robbery to the Emperor, he wasn’t about to deny it now that Rael had done so. Lying at this point would only make him look more suspicious than he already did. “Yes, sir,” Gavin replied, hoping the honorific wasn’t an improper term to use with the Emperor.

The giant sovereign gave a nod of understanding. He took a long, thoughtful pause as he considered the new information before focusing back on Gavin. “Is there a reason you didn’t report this?” he asked, a serious look in those yellow eyes of his.

God, it was intimidating enough being stared at by a giant, but being stared at by a giant who ruled over an entire dimension of giants was just something else entirely. And Gavin had thought meeting Orlando Bloom at a music festival when he was seventeen had been daunting. Gavin swallowed. “Keep it together,” he ordered himself. If he wanted the Emperor to treat him like a person, it was possible he would need to earn his respect first.

“Sir, whether I was hired or not doesn’t change the fact that I committed the crime,” Gavin started. “And since I don’t know the real name of the man who hired me, I didn’t see a point in reporting it to authorities.” There was also the fact that Gavin had never really been one to snitch, especially on his fellow criminals, but he wasn’t about to say that part in a room with a soldier and a political leader.

“I see,” the Emperor responded pensively. “Well, I consider taking responsibility for your own actions to be quite noble,” he told Gavin with complete sincerity in his voice. “Truthfully, I never took Ashryn’s suggestion very seriously,” he admitted. “I’ve worked quite hard to develop a peaceful and friendly relationship with humankind, and I am not about to undo that by mistreating my first human convict.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. Did he hear that right? Did the Emperor really just, one after the other, call him noble and say that he wouldn’t lock him up in a display cage? It was hard for Gavin not to let a wave of relief crash over him. The news was great, but he still didn’t know what fate did await him. Not being treated like an animal really was the bare minimum after all.

“Um...so what are you planning to do with me?” Gavin found himself asking. He was sick and tired of the uncertainty, of not knowing what was in store for him. Whatever his sentence might be, he just wanted to know what it was already so he could start figuring out how to cope with it.

The Emperor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. He seemed somewhat taken aback by Gavin’s abrupt question. It was possible the man wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to that way. Gavin hoped he hadn’t done something taboo. He wasn’t intending to be disrespectful, he just really didn’t know how to interact with literal royalty.

Apparently, the Emperor wasn’t too upset, because a small smile had taken form on his face. “Well,” he began, glancing back at Rael. “I find myself quite fascinated by your willingness to speak up in front of me in order to defend this human.”

“Is that what he did?” Gavin asked himself. Had Rael really been standing up for him? Was it really more than him just doing his job?

“You were aware that many important figures have negative opinions of Gavin Stone, and yet you risked your reputation by speaking up for him,” the Emperor went on.

Suddenly everything was beginning to make a lot more sense. The whole scene out in the hallway...it had been all about Rael protecting his reputation. He couldn’t choose a human over an alteon, lest he risk being looked down upon by his peers. Of course, none of that made what he’d done okay, but at least Gavin understood why now. “Does this mean he had some kind of change of heart...is that why he told the Emperor about me being hired…?” he pondered to himself.

The Emperor’s gaze suddenly returned to Gavin. “I believe I have decided what your sentence will be,” he announced firmly, a satisfied smile on his face that Gavin wasn’t sure how to take. “Since the two of you have clearly established the foundations of a relationship, I have decided that, in order to atone for your crime, you will serve under Rael as an assistant for a minimum of one year.”

Gavin’s mouth fell open, but before he could even form a coherent thought, he heard Rael’s stunned voice exclaim from behind him, “What?!”

-

The word had slipped from Rael’s mouth before he could stop it. He had just been so shocked by the Emperor’s announcement that all thoughts of propriety and manners suddenly flew out the window. “Sorry, your majesty,” he quickly recovered. “I just--I wasn’t expecting that.”

Take a human on as an assistant?! It was completely unheard of--of course it was unheard of, humans were tiny people who lived in another realm, why would one ever serve as an assistant to a common alteon soldier? Rael didn’t even know what to think. The Emperor clearly trusted him enough to put Gavin in his ward, but what the hell was Rael supposed to do with a diminutive person tagging along with him while he worked? Plus there was the matter of he and Gavin’s last encounter. Something told Rael the human didn’t much want to hang around with the person who had threatened him not once, but twice within a few hours.

“I’m aware that it’s unorthodox, but to be frank, this entire situation is unorthodox,” the Emperor stated. “This way, Gavin Stone will be able to serve his punishment while learning about and experiencing our realm.” It seemed the relationship between alteons and humans was even more important to the Emperor than Rael had realized--he was completely breaking away from the norm for the sake of diplomacy.

“Are you sure it won’t be too dangerous?” Rael had to ask. On a regular basis, his job wasn’t typically overly treacherous, but even the mildest thing to him could be potentially life threatening to someone as small as Gavin.

The Emperor offered a gentle smile. “I’m certain Gavin Stone will be quite safe in your hands, Rael.” It was easy for him to say that, he didn’t know what Rael had done just ten minutes prior--if he did, he would probably never let Gavin within a hundred feet of the temper-prone excuse for an Imperial Guard soldier.

“Uh--excuse me, sir,” Gavin piped up nervously. He was facing towards the Emperor, so Rael couldn’t see his facial expression. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see it. “What exactly can someone like me do as an assistant?” the human inquired, voicing the question that Rael had been pondering.

“You will do whatever Rael requests of you,” the Emperor told him simply, then turning to Rael said, “You may utilize him as your assistant how you see fit, so long as he isn’t put in significant danger of course.” Rael couldn’t believe how much faith the Emperor seemingly had in him. Where did it come from? This was by far the longest interaction he’d ever had with the ruler of Iaela, so why did he seem to trust a random soldier so much? “I’ll have some furniture and attire made up to suit a human. You are also free to request any accommodations you think you may need,” the Emperor added, already scrawling down notes on a sheet of parchment.

Rael opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He’d gone from disliking humans to being made the guardian of one in a matter of hours. He still wasn’t sure about his opinion on humanity as a whole, but he couldn’t deny the fact that one particular human had penetrated the tough exterior he had built around himself.

Like it or not, Rael cared about Gavin. He never would have spoken up to the Emperor if he hadn’t. As strange and inexplicable as it may be, he needed to accept the reality of the situation. Gavin would be his ward for at least a year. They would be spending a lot of time with each other. Rael couldn’t keep pretending to be indifferent to the tiny man.

~

After being dismissed from the meeting with the Emperor, Gavin had been carried off by Rael, taken to what he could only assume was Rael’s quarters. The entire trip there had been silent, because what the hell was Gavin supposed to say? He was so mentally and emotionally confused at this point that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of anything.

Rael’s room was small and simple; it contained only a bed, side table, and little chest of drawers. On the way in, Gavin had noticed the hallway had been filled with doors, which led him to believe this area was entirely made up of the rooms of soldiers. At least Rael had his own space, the last thing Gavin needed at the moment was to be faced with more alteons.

“Gavin,” Rael spoke up, finally breaking the silence that had stretched out between the two of them. “I know you’re probably not pleased with this arrangement.” Gavin stared up at Rael from where he stood on the bedside table. The giant was sitting on his bed, but of course, he was still looming high over the human. “I...I understand why you would feel that way,” Rael’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, Gavin could hardly believe this was the same person who had yelled at him earlier.

A long sigh blew out from between Gavin’s lips. “I sure hope you’re leading up to an apology here,” he snipped, folding his arms firmly over his chest. He wasn’t going to put up with some indirect expression of regret, nah--that wasn’t going to fly. If Rael wanted his forgiveness, he would have to make an apology as clear and plain as day.

There was no derision or amusement on Rael’s face, just a solemn frown. “Ashryn wanted me to prove myself by...reigning you in,” the alteon explained in a stormy tone. “I was too afraid of harming my reputation to not take the bait.” Clearly Gavin’s assumptions had been right. “But I was wrong...and weak for not standing up to Ashryn. For that, I am sorry.” It was hard to believe Gavin was hearing those words being directed at him from Rael. A few hours ago it would have seemed impossible.

As good as it was to hear the apology, Gavin still felt like there was something Rael wasn’t entirely grasping. “Listen, I know I look pretty tough, but you’ve gotta realize how--how freaky it is when you use your size against me.” Admitting he was afraid wasn’t really something Gavin loved to do, especially considering he was trying to convince alteons that humans weren’t weak little babies, but Rael needed to know the effect his actions had.

The size disparity between the room’s occupants suddenly became even more strikingly apparent. Gavin was standing and Rael was sitting, and yet Rael still absolutely towered over the human. No matter how equal the two may be intellectually, Rael would always have a huge automatic advantage over Gavin--and that was something they would both have to come to adapt to if they were going to be living and working with each other for the foreseeable future.

“Are you afraid of me?” The sudden question stunned Gavin. He wasn’t sure why, because it had always been something in the back of his mind. Maybe it was just shocking hearing Rael ask it so bluntly.

Gavin paused. How was he supposed to answer this? He had definitely had fear inflicted on him by Rael on multiple occasions, but was he really and truly afraid of the guy? Gavin gave a weak shrug. “I don’t really know...I guess sometimes…” Rael gave a tight nod, as if he had been expecting that response. “But other times you’re just a big, awkward dork,” Gavin quickly added.

A very slight smile pulled at the corner of Rael’s lips. “Alright, I’ll promise not to use my size against you anymore, if you can promise not to call me a ‘dork’ again,” he said the words so seriously, and yet the growing grin on the alteon’s face gave him away.

Gavin chuckled. “Fine, but you gotta promise not to give me any weird assistant jobs, like polishing your scabbard or some shit.” He really didn’t know how much someone of his size could really be of use to a giant, but he supposed this arrangement was better than being thrown into a cage.

Rael raised a single dark eyebrow. “Oh, but you’re probably the only one that could actually reach the inside.”

A grumpy frown took shape on Gavin’s face. “Okay, next rule: no size jokes at my expense!”

A warm, genuine laugh escaped from Rael. In a flash the giant man was reaching forward, and before Gavin could dodge backwards, a massive index finger was ruffling his hair, making the already messy locks even more of a disaster. “No promises.”

Gavin let out a long sigh. Somehow he had gone from being a professional thief to the assistant to a gigantic, elf-eared man from another dimension. “At least it’s more exciting than being a damn doctor.”

I was originally gonna make this two parts but I decided to just make it one big chunky final chapter! This story was kind of like the introductory prologue to Gavin and Rael so there's definitely room for more about them in the future if people are interested. I had a ton of fun writing this and totally appreciate all the nice comments and such that I got!

I've got a busy few weeks ahead of me but feel free to send in prompts/commissions for my ocs. I just may take a little while to actually get to them.

#ending on lucky number 13 i guess #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #g/t fluff #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael

[orionsangel86]

Hi Saz! I've been following your blog for awhile now, and as someone who was convinced Castiel would not be returning for the finale I have to say you have made some very compelling arguments to the contrary. I find myself starting to have glimmers of hope which is something I thought I lost a long time ago. But something I still can't let go of is Misha's comments about Castiel's ending being "final." If that isn't about Cas being dead dead then what else could he have meant? Thoughts? Thx <3

Hey! Well as someone who has seriously gone through the depressing fear of thinking that Cas would be mistreated in the finale, the one thing I knew for certain was that he was coming back. We have confirmation of that from Misha himself back in a M&G much earlier this year. We also have a photo from set of him and the actor who plays Uriel where Misha confirmed that it was their last scene together (a scene that hasn’t happened yet in season 15). Castiel is 100% definitely in the finale. This I can absolutely promise you is the truth.

The SPN creators did work VERY hard to hide this though. VERY HARD. They don’t want anyone to know that Cas comes back. My own negativity was never because I thought he wasn’t coming back, but just because I thought he wouldn’t be a key player in the final episodes and therefore disregarded again. My concern was that when he did come back, he would be a bit part, or return just to say goodbye to the brothers and return to heaven with Jack or only be in flashbacks or something. These were my fears. Not that he was perma!dead, but that his death would be the end of him as a lead character and that they would bring him back as a side character and not as the most important person in Dean’s life next to Sam.

The canonising of Castiel’s love for Dean though, has changed ALL OF THAT. Because now, that love, that confession, looking back, it’s one of the cornerstones of the entire Season 15 story. It MUST be given a proper conclusion, the narrative DEMANDS it at this point. Dean MUST give an answer to Castiel’s confession, and there is NO WAY IN HELL after the past few seasons ESPECIALLY after 15x09 and Dean’s confession in purgatory, that Dean won’t return Cas’s feelings.

When Misha talked about Castiel’s ending being “final” I am not sure what he meant. For starters, it could be just that he wanted to throw us off the scent so the Destiel reveal would be even more of a surprise. It could be that he means Castiel will give up his grace, be human, and live a human life with Dean. That’s pretty damn final for the story if you think about it? It could also just have been Misha trying to feed us the doom and gloom as a bait and switch, knowing this whole time that we were going to get a happy ever after ending, but one that he has been sworn to absolute secrecy to not even hint at.

Basically, I wouldn’t read much into anything Misha has said in the past. His actions on Twitter following Castiel’s love confession speak for themself though. His liking of Destiel tweets, and generally celebrating? He wouldn’t be doing that if he knew for certain that Castiel’s journey was over RIGHT after coming out of the closet. Misha is very savvy on queer issues. He would never support such an ending.

Have faith. I may have only just found mine again, but honestly, its much more freeing standing under the rainbow, than hiding in the dark.

#destiel #supernatural #spn endgame #destiel endgame #destiel is canon #asks #Anonymous

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 15

Chapter 15- Morning Courtmartial

And as usual... the ko-fi link, if you like the trash I, a human dumpster fire, product https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

Roy Mustang showed up outside the dorms at 8:30am sharp. It was 8:37 when Edward came racing down the stairs, in his military blues with a large suit of armor clanking hurriedly behind him.

Ed fairly dove into the passenger seat, with Alphonse squeezing into the entirety of the backseat, and Ed turned to look at Mustang like he was possessed. "Drive!"

"Put your seat belt on." Roy said, giving him a look.

Ed frantically did so, and Roy was heading over to central command.

"Shit are we gonna be late? I couldn't find a hair tie that wasn't red I didn't know what the military regulations were so I transmuted it black." Ed's hair wasn't in its trademark braid- rather, it was in a high ponytail behind him. His uniform was a little rumpled, and his collar was a mess, but these were all things that could be fixed.

"Calm down. We're not going to be late, but we won't be able to stop and grab breakfast like I planned either, so you'll have to hold out til lunch." Roy remarked.

Ed nodded, seeming to calm down slightly at this.

"Are you doing okay?" Roy shot his youngest subordinate a look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ed said, nodding. Though there wasn't too much belief behind the statement.

"I'm going to be so nervous, waiting upstairs in the office to hear what's going on." Al piped up from the back.

"Try not to worry too much, Alphonse- the team will be watching the proceedings, and they'll come upstairs periodically under the guise of a break to update you."

"Alright." Alphonse seemed to settle for the moment. Edward's leg kept bouncing nervously, and they pulled up outside central command at ten minutes to nine. They parted ways, with Alphonse heading upstairs and Roy and Ed heading towards the courtroom, deeper on the first floor of Central command.

The hallways were busy with people in all sorts of military blues- Ed's eyes widened as he saw everyone assembled. Roy placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him into the men's room just outside the courtroom.

"Do you have to go?" he asked, giving the boy a once-over.

Ed shook his head. "No. Why are we in here, anyways?"

"Because you were getting overwhelmed and I need to touch up your uniform." Roy said calmly. He started with the boy's long military jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the boy's rank pins. He moved up to Ed's collar next, folding it down properly, before looking at Ed's hair- he wet his hands in the sink and smoothed down Ed's trademark blond antenna, before nodding and standing up straight. "Much better. You look like quite the solider, Fullmetal."

"Yeah. Now if only I could feel like one. Brigadier General Basque Grand was out there." Ed muttered to himself, looking down at his boots.

"A lot of high profile people are here, Ed. This trial has ruffled some feathers, I'm not gonna lie. But how you carry yourself in there- how you think and behave- will affect how you're treated."

"They'll just look at me like a kid anyways."

"Stop it." Mustang hissed, using two fingers to tilt Edward's chin up so the boy was looking him in the eyes. "I know you're nervous, and you have a right to be, but self pity and doubt have no place here, Edward."

Roy reached down into Edward's pocked, putting out the boy's state alchemist watch and dangling it in front of him. "You are the Fullmetal Alchemist. I watched you put blood sweat and tears into earning this watch. You are a prodigy- you have seen atrocities and come back eager to live on anyways. You are a soldier under my command. I didn't give you this watch. You earned it. You could kick the asses of nearly everyone in that court room, save myself and a few others, without a problem. So you act like it- you look them in the eyes and you tell them everything. I need you to trust me, Edward- if you testify to the best of your abilities, he'll be found guilty. I promise."

Ed looked up at him- eyes that were swimming with uncertainty becoming hard with determination and purpose. The fire was burning bright again, and Ed pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright."

"Don't forget- you're the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. Make them remember that."

"I will."

They both turned, exiting the restroom and striding into the courtroom, down the aisles and to their side of the benches. Their court appointed lawyer, Marissa Jennings, was a pretty woman in military blues with dark hair and brown eyes- she nodded to Mustang as they found their seats behind their table. Ed hadn't met the woman, but Roy had had countless meeting with her over the past two weeks to prepare, and he was very familiar with her.

On the other side of the courtroom, behind the small table sat Colonel Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, and the defendant's lawyer, an older, be speckled man in his sixties eith salt and pepper hair and a gray goatee.

Before both tables was the Judge's desk on an elevated platform, and to the left was the bleachers for the jury- a group of about twelve. Behind the tables where the prosecuting and defending parties sat, there was a small wooden railing and benches for spectators to watch.

Roy noted Basque Grand sitting behind Colonel Bank's side of the courtroom, as well as a smattering of unfamiliar soldiers. Banks had clearly brought his men as well.

But it was no match for Ed's side of the courtroom. Havoc, Breda, Falman, Furey, Hawkeye, Scheska, Hughes, Armstrong, and several of the receptionists that Ed would help by fixing broken vases and flower pots all sat at the ready. The proceedings were about to being.

The door to the courtroom flew open, and Roy nearly fell out of his chair. Scowling in the doorway, General Olivier Armstrong strode into the room,her sidearm and sword at her side, with Miles beside her, his sunglasses present as always.

She stalked into the room, and it nearly fell silent, before flopping to sit beside her brother, who sat in support of Edward, exhaling harshly through her nose.

"Olivier- so glad you could make it! You hardly ever respond to my letters." Armstrong had started to sparkle.

Olivier scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I came here because I was pissed, not because of that sappy letter. This whole torture fiasco happened at Goldenfield- the North is my territory, and when bullshit happens I like to see who's held accountable." She brushed her bangs from her face. Though Roy didn't miss the way she craned her neck to get a look at Edward.

Who knew- perhaps General Armstrong actually cared?

"All rise- the honorable judge Mason Freeman presiding." the baliff barked. The sound of chairs scraping as everyone in the room hurried to stand was the only sound.

The judge- a rather wise looking man in his sixties- strode to his desk with ease, before he was sitting down. "Good morning. At ease, everyone. Let it be noted on the record today the case of Flame vs Banks has begun."

Everyone sat down, and the judge nodded toward Ed's bench.

"We will begin with the charges brought against the accused. Colonel Roger Banks, you have been accused of the unlawful imprisonment and torture of a state alchemist, Major Edward Elric. How does the accused plead?"

"Not guilty, Sir."

The judge nodded. "Very well. We will hear your arguments shortly. For now, let us proceed with the incident reports received, beginning with the mission report from the Fullmetal Alchemist himself. Jennings?"

The woman representing Ed stood up, shuffling papers. "Of course, your honor. On the fifth of September, Major Edward Elric received orders to head north and conduct a covert mission for the Amestrian military. He returned on the morning of September ninth, as planned, but rather than being allowed to return to Central city and report to his commanding officer, the boy was detained, restrained, beaten, and abused. The medical records show Edward received six cigarette burns to the lower left abdomen, a broken rib, a 3 inch laceration on his left bicep requiring 17 stitches, 3 lacerations on his back, from a knife, one of which required an additional twelve stitches to close, a black eye, and severe contusions to the chest. His mistreatment lasted for a day and a half, at which point his superior arrived, discovered the Major's condition, and got the boy medical help. I will now read, verbatim, the mission reports submitted to the court by Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, followed by the Doctor's report regarding Ed's injuries."

The first hour of the court session was the lawyer reading Ed's mission report, then Mustangs, and continuing on with the doctor's report. Ed was rather relieved that he could just sit and listen. It was clear the woman representing them was more comfortable in a courtroom than he was.

"This concludes my report of evidence from the prosecution, your honor." the woman finished.

The judge nodded. "And does the defendant have any evidence which they wish to present?"

The elder lawyer stood. "Yes, Sir. I am presenting the reports of Colonel Roger Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, verbatim."

"The secret mission Edward Elric was sent on was of immense importance for national security. Following our rendezvous, Edward expressed his interest in returning to Central city as soon as possible. I agreed this was the best course of action, but as the boy's superior, righteously demanded that he give his report and findings to me before leaving. Fullmetal adamantly refused, and when repeatedly prompted, answered with blatant disrespect. Had it been a matter of lesser importance, I would've written the boy up and let him go. But due to the immensely sensitive information the boy had, I felt I could not let him leave without reporting to me. It wasn't in the best interests of the nation."

"Following his staunch refusal and obstinence, I disciplined the boy physically, and continued to do so. I am not a man without conscience, but I had to put the good of the nation over the good of one unruly boy. I was nearly to the point of extracting the information when the boy's commanding officer- who identified himself as the Flame Alchemist- trespassed in my office and intimidated my Lieutenant into taking him to see the boy."

"When I attempted to confront the man for his intrusion into my office and blatant disregard for my command, I was brutally assaulted, receiving first degree burns on my hand, and my life threatened if I refused to leave. By the time I felt it prudent to return, the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist were gone."

Roy frowned at the report.

The lawyer paused, clearing his throat. "Now- onto the incident report of Lieutenant Margaret Shaw, dated October twentieth-"

Roy's hand touched the table the defense lawyer had her paper's spread out, and he shifted in his seat to sit forward a little.

"Objection!" The lawyer was cut off by their lawyer, and everyone looked over at him, even the judge.

"What is the nature of this objection, Jennings?"

"Mr. Elric was reported to have been scheduled to return from his mission on the ninth of October. His commanding officer retrieved him on the afternoon of the tenth of october. The fact that this report was filed so late is likely due to the fact that Lieutenant Shaw wouldn't have filed a report about the imprisonment and abuse of power at all, had it not been for her commanding officer receiving a summons for court martial a few days earlier and covering her tracks."

"This is all speculation, your honor." the elderly defense lawyer protested, moving his glasses further up his nose.

"Jennings, you may continue, but keep it short." the judge advised, looking interested.

"I'd like to know the date Colonel Banks filed his incident report." Jennings asked.

The defense lawyer shuffled his papers. "October nineteenth was the date Colonel Banks filed his report."

"Interesting. So this alleged abuse of power occurs from the ninth to tenth of October, Colonel Banks is assaulted so viciously by the Flame alchemist in the line of duty, and yet despite all of this, he waits nine days to file a report. And his subordinate, who also witnessed such abuse, files her report one day after. Despite the fact that officers are required to file reports of incidents within forty eight hours. It almost seems as though the defendants were scrambling and after receiving their court summons, sat down and put their story together to avoid any gaps and inconsistencies, and then submitted them a day apart."

"My report is my own, Ma'am. While it is true that Colonel Banks and I discussed the matter after receiving our summons, my report was filed directly to central- Colonel Banks never read it." Lieutenant Shaw spoke up.

"I can attest to this, as I notarized the document." the lawyer agreed.

"I see. Still, the timing is awfully convenient. That's all I have to say on the matter, your honor."

The judge nodded. "The defense may continue."

Lieutenant Shaw's report was read verbatim, as well. It didn't contain the blatant falsehoods Colonel Banks had- rather, Shaw had chosen to stick to facts.

"At approximately 9am Edward Elric returned to our fort and expressed a desire to go home after completing his mission. He proceeded to another room with Colonel Banks and I didn't see him afterwards. At approximately 10am, I received a call from the boy's commanding officer, inquiring if Edward had returned as planned. I confirmed that Edward Elric had indeed returned and that he intended to get a train out of central soon."

"In the afternoon, at approximately 1pm, Colonel Banks was stepping out for lunch. I still had not seen Major Elric and inquired if he'd purchased his train ticket home yet, as he seemed eager to do in the morning. Colonel Banks said the boy was resting upstairs before he left, tired from his mission. I noticed the Colonel carrying Elric's black coat and inquired why- he told me he was going to get it cleaned for the boy so he could travel home in comfort."

"At the end of the day, I still had not seen Edward. I stepped into the Colonel's office to say goodnight to my commanding officer, and found him sititng at his desk. On his desk, was Elric's coat, cut into scraps. I asked the Colonel if Edward had left yet. Colonel Banks confirmed my suspicions that Edward was still in the building, but said it was a matter of national security that he get the information from the boy. I was in no position to argue with my superior, so I quietly left. On a hunch, I went downstairs to the cells where unruly citizens are kept and found Major Elric hung from the wall by his wrists, dirty and in some degree of pain. He looked up at me and asked if I was there to burn him as well. I asked him how I could help- he asked me for water. I brought him a mug of it and gave it to him quickly before leaving for the night. I trusted my commanding officer to handle the issue."

"Colonel Banks instructed me to have all questions about the Fullmetal Alchemist's condition forwarded to him. I followed these orders, forwarding the phone inquiry of the Flame Alchemist to Colonel Banks early in the morning. That afternoon, however, when the Flame Alchemist arrived, he was quite agitated, and I thought it prudent to show him to Elric immediately to avoid further conflict. Colonel Banks went to speak to the man and returned with a burned hand a destroyed firearm. After I treated my commanding officer for his injuries, I took the suitcase Elric had left in our fort in the room he'd stayed in previously and dropped it off at the local inn on the hunch they were staying there."

Colonel Banks looked over at Margaret, a bit of disapproval behind his eyes, but not much of it.

"Your honor." Jennings, dark haired and bold as always, spoke up. "I would like to ask Lieutenant Shaw a few more questions."

"In due time, Jennings." the judge frowned, squinting at the courtroom clock. "It's nearly noon. I declare a half hour recess, and then we will reconvene for cross-examination of the involved parties. Adjourned." the judge slammed his gavel down, and the courtroom broke into a flurry of activity as everyone rose to grab lunch.

Team Mustang normally would've gathered in the cafeteria, but since Alphonse was stuck upstairs in the office, they elected to grab food and eat with him. Plus, seeing Ed was likely to ease his mind.

Ed grabbed a ham sandwich as they hurried upstairs.

"Nice job Chief!" Havoc clapped a hand on his shoulder as he sat on Mustang's couch and started to eat. "I don't think I've ever seen you sit still for that long before!"

Ed had to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"How was it, brother? Are you alright?" Al asked.

Ed took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm fine. I didn't have to do much of anything, it was mostly lawyers reading reports and making statements."

"Still, you seem to be making quite the case. The lawyer representing you- Jennings- is on her game." Hawkeye spoke up.

"Yes, she certainly is." Roy conceded. Probably because he'd spent over six hours with her going over the particulars of the case this past week. But still, she was tenacious and on the ball, and Roy liked her.

The door to the office burst open, and Hughes came running in. "Ed! You did great out there! Were you nervous?"

"A little." Ed took another bite of his sandwich and chewed.

"Right." the light reflected off Hughes glasses, showing his seriousness, as he stepped forward. "Well, this afternoon they're going to do the cross examinations. So you'll have to go up on the witness stand and answer questions about your report. Everyone will be watching. So you're going to need to have nerves of steel and think on your feet. They'll do anything they can to make you slip up."

"R-right." Ed was looking nervous.

"I figured you'd be stressed, so I brought some pictures of my darling Elicia to help calm your nerves!" Roy was right back to his fawning father self, pulling out a rather large stack of photos. "Here she is in her footie pajamas, and here she is with her new teddy bear..."

Hawkeye exchanged glances with Roy. They let Hughes ramble on for a few more minutes before Hawkeye was shooing him out of the office.

"You should finish that sandwich up- we have to head back down soon." Roy nodded to Ed, looking at the clock.

"I'm done." Ed said simply, setting down the half-eaten sandwich and standing. Ed hardly ate anything- that meant he was nervous.

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder as they ducked out of the office and headed back towards the courtroom. No matter what was to come in cross examinations- he'd do his best to protect Ed.

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