#i think I'm allergic to presenting

[lixenn]

REJOICE WITH ME PEOPLE!!!

I don't need to present tomorrow because my boss is still in Korea!

Meaning my anxiety will probably chill for a bit and absolutely slaughter me next week yay!

[blackwaxidol]

re; hip dips i just realised what it is about some of my Drone drawings (unreleased) that i found odd in that they are not quite comparable to some digital drawings of women, because i draw Drone with hip dips. i assumed the... "diplessness" of digital hips was just an artistic choice. wheeze.

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[leneemusing]

A FEW VARIOUS SENTENCE STARTERS

❝ i wouldn't find the need to tell you 'i told you so' if you weren't so allergic to admitting i'm right. ❞

❝ there are better hills to die on but i find this one quite comfortable. ❞

❝ would you come with me please? i adore your company. ❞

❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

❝ i would love to help you but i'm afraid i'm suffering from a terrible case of 'it's not my problem.' ❞

❝ could you just think about anyone other than yourself for once? ❞

❝ i'm not going to stand here and argue with you about how much you need to get some rest. if i find you passed out on the floor i'm leaving you there. ❞

❝ would you be a dear and shut the hell up. ❞

❝ i know i need help but i'm not quite ready to ask for it. ❞

❝ do you know where we're going or are we just trying to get lost now? ❞

❝ i have confided this in you, please do not betray that trust. ❞

❝ do you like it here? with me? ❞

❝ are you still happy? with me, i mean. with us. ❞

❝ i didn't lie, i simply presented a selective truth. ❞

❝ do you actually like spending time with me? because i feel like all you do is argue. ❞

❝ one of us will eventually have to have the strength to be honest with ourselves about each other. ❞

❝ i want to tell you something i just need a moment to figure out the right words. ❞

❝ if you were the religious type i would challenge god to win your devotion. ❞

❝ don't tell me to quit being melodramatic it's the only time i have any fun. ❞

❝ were you ever going to tell me or were you just going to make me guess what you're thinking and feeling. ❞

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

[demonpiratehuntress]

the best gift is you

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

Summary - You're having an incredibly difficult time finding an appropriate birthday present for Zoro.

Warnings - none, i think? I just wrote this right after hosting a soccer festival for an orphanage at my club, so I'm pretty much dead but wanted to get something out for my favourite Straw Hat's birthday <3 please excuse any errors, and happy birthday Zoro <3 <3 <3

"Usopp! Come with me."

You were just dragging the confused and slightly startled sharpshooter - because why did you want him to go shopping with you? - across the deck when you heard your boyfriend call out to you.

"Where are you going?"

You froze, having not expected him to be up from his nap so soon, "Um, grocery shopping?"

He frowned, "I can go with you."

"No!" You said quickly, then backtracked when you noticed how he became even more confused - and slightly hurt. "I mean, sorry babe but I really need Usopp's help with this specific trip."

This only confused the swordsman more, but before he could argue you were pulling the blabbering, protesting Usopp off the ship and into the small town. You could explain later, and make it up with the present, because you wanted this to be a surprise.

Zoro was left more puzzled than ever, wondering why you didn't even want him to go with for protection. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, so he guessed you must have your reasons. Then it hit him.

Oh...no.

"You two fighting or something?" Sanji asked from above.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Was Zoro's snarky response, coupled with an annoyed eyeroll. Sanji scoffed, but even he knew better than to further antagonise the already upset swordsman.

A few hours later...

"Ugh! Why is this so hard?!"

Your frustrated protest alarmed your crewmate, who had been eyeing a pair of sniper goggles at a nearby stand. You were practically pulling your hair out, on the verge of hot, angry tears, and your bottom lip was trembling.

"I can't go back without one!"

"You still haven't told me exactly what we're looking for," Usopp reminded you.

"Something Zoro would like," you sighed, "Or need. But there's nothing here. And it's almost dark out."

"Can't you just find something at the next island?"

"No! It has to be today, it has to..." You trailed off, biting your lip and trying your hardest to hold back tears.

"Why?"

"I...Because it has to."

You'd spent the last few hours scouring every shop on this island, but you had no idea what to get your boyfriend. He already had everything he needed, and there was nothing he wanted to your knowledge, so he was pretty difficult to shop for. He wasn't a typical boyfriend, that much you knew, so matching chains or charms wouldn't be appropriate. It was bugging you so much that you wanted to cry.

"Let's get back to the ship."

You took off before Usopp could question you, so he just followed without a word. Your behaviour baffled him, and slightly worried him, but he wasn't going to press any more if you didn't want to tell him. When you both got back to the ship, the green-haired swordsman was anxiously pacing the deck - the first time Usopp had seen him this nervous. The first time any of them - minus you - had seen him this nervous. But when you boarded, he breathed a sigh of relief.

His relief quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your eyes glistening with tears, and within seconds he was in front of you, hands gripping your forearms gently.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," you choked out, the tears free-falling. "I couldn't find anything. I looked everywhere. I looked so hard. I don't know...I didn't...I'm sorry..." You tried to wipe your tears away, but he beat you to it.

Usopp was long gone, not sticking around to see yours and Zoro's inevitable affection - the rest of the crew seemed allergic to your displays. So Zoro pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He reached up with one hand to brush the tears falling away, his expression softening.

"Hey," he spoke softly, "Look at me." He continued only once you met his gaze, "I don't need anything. I don't want anything. You are enough, okay? More than enough, actually. You don't need to get me anything, because you've already given me the greatest gift in the world. You." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds.

A soft blush crossed your cheeks, the disappointment in you slowly deflating until it was nothing more than an afterthought. You sniffled as you smiled up at him, your body filling with warmth at his words - and at the look of absolute love and adoration he was blessing you with right now.

"I love you. You are all that I want, and all that I need. Don't ever apologise for something as silly as a birthday gift."

Before you could protest, his lips were on yours and he was locking you in the most loving, passionate kiss he had ever given you. He was trying to convey his message through the kiss, proving that you were all he craved. Proving that you were his favourite gift of all.

"I love you too," you smiled even more when he pulled away to let you breathe - ironically you were breathless.

"Good, now can we please go and sleep?"

You laughed, allowing him to pick you up and carry you off to bed.

"Whatever the birthday boy wants."

"Whatever I want, huh?"

"I thought you wanted to sleep!"

"...Changed my mind."

[hathorik]

PALESTINIAN GENOCIDE: WAR CRIMES MASTER POST

The goal of this post is to keep track of all the war crimes as recognized by the UN's Office on Genocide Prevention and the Responsibility to Protect committed by Israeli authority and military against the Palestinian, Syrian and Lebanese people, and which remain unpunished by international authorities.

The ICC is not doing its job. It has failed its mission. It's up to us to push for Israel to be held accountable.

Feel free to comment, I'll feel free to delete the Zionist propaganda. I can't help it, I'm allergic to Nazis. Don't ask for "reliable" western media sources either; you can just open your eyes. I promise you it's better to see things as they are.

Everything under the cut is the material present on the UN's Office on Genocide Prevention and the Responsibility to Protect website as of 12/11th. Just go check it yourself if you need. Crimes in bold and red are those identified as committed. I'd love to keep tracks of numbers but... they are overwhelming. I can't. I don't think anyone can.

Paragraphs 2.c, 2.d, 2.e, 2.f and 3 are repeats of the previous but applicable to "armed conflicts not of an international character" and details to take into account in such cases. For the sake of brevity, they will be skipped and instances applicable will be reported in the previous instances of said crimes.

If you find other crimes (or victims) that need to be accounted for, please send a screenshot or a link to the source material along with the paragraph number (X.Y.Z.) and I'll be happy to oblige. You can also just bring up cases applying to a certain paragraph the same way; I don't mind a comment section filled with proof.

This post will be reblogged every 12 hours and updated when I'm able to do so.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court

Article 8 War Crimes

1. The Court shall have jurisdiction in respect of war crimes in particular when committed as part of a plan or policy or as part of a large-scale commission of such crimes.

2. For the purpose of this Statute, ‘war crimes’ means:

2.a. Grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, namely, any of the following acts against persons or property protected under the provisions of the relevant Geneva Convention:

2.a.i. Wilful killing;

2.a.ii. Torture or inhuman treatment, including biological experiments;

2.a.iii. Wilfully causing great suffering, or serious injury to body or health;

2.a.iv. Extensive destruction and appropriation of property, not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly;

2.a.v. Compelling a prisoner of war or other protected person to serve in the forces of a hostile Power;

2.a.vi. Wilfully depriving a prisoner of war or other protected person of the rights of fair and regular trial;

2.a.vii. Unlawful deportation or transfer or unlawful confinement;

2.a.viii. Taking of hostages.

2.b. Other serious violations of the laws and customs applicable in international armed conflict, within the established framework of international law, namely, any of the following acts:

2.b.i. Intentionally directing attacks against the civilian population as such or against individual civilians not taking direct part in hostilities;

2.b.ii. Intentionally directing attacks against civilian objects, that is, objects which are not military objectives;

2.b.iii. Intentionally directing attacks against personnel, installations, material, units or vehicles involved in a humanitarian assistance or peacekeeping mission in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, as long as they are entitled to the protection given to civilians or civilian objects under the international law of armed conflict;

2.b.iv. Intentionally launching an attack in the knowledge that such attack will cause incidental loss of life or injury to civilians or damage to civilian objects or widespread, long-term and severe damage to the natural environment which would be clearly excessive in relation to the concrete and direct overall military advantage anticipated;

2.b.v. Attacking or bombarding, by whatever means, towns, villages, dwellings or buildings which are undefended and which are not military objectives;

2.b.vi. Killing or wounding a combatant who, having laid down his arms or having no longer means of defence, has surrendered at discretion;

2.b.vii. Making improper use of a flag of truce, of the flag or of the military insignia and uniform of the enemy or of the United Nations, as well as of the distinctive emblems of the Geneva Conventions, resulting in death or serious personal injury;

2.b.viii. The transfer, directly or indirectly, by the Occupying Power of parts of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies, or the deportation or transfer of all or parts of the population of the occupied territory within or outside this territory;

2.b.ix. Intentionally directing attacks against buildings dedicated to religion, education, art, science or charitable purposes, historic monuments, hospitals and places where the sick and wounded are collected, provided they are not military objectives;

2.b.x. Subjecting persons who are in the power of an adverse party to physical mutilation or to medical or scientific experiments of any kind which are neither justified by the medical, dental or hospital treatment of the person concerned nor carried out in his or her interest, and which cause death to or seriously endanger the health of such person or persons;

2.b.xi. Killing or wounding treacherously individuals belonging to the hostile nation or army;

2.b.xii. Declaring that no quarter will be given;

2.b.xiii. Destroying or seizing the enemy's property unless such destruction or seizure be imperatively demanded by the necessities of war;

2.b.xiv. Declaring abolished, suspended or inadmissible in a court of law the rights and actions of the nationals of the hostile party;

2.b.xv. Compelling the nationals of the hostile party to take part in the operations of war directed against their own country, even if they were in the belligerent's service before the commencement of the war;

2.b.xvi. Pillaging a town or place, even when taken by assault;

2.b.xvii. Employing poison or poisoned weapons;

2.b.xviii. Employing asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases, and all analogous liquids, materials or devices;

2.b.xix. Employing bullets which expand or flatten easily in the human body, such as bullets with a hard envelope which does not entirely cover the core or is pierced with incisions;

2.b.xx. Employing weapons, projectiles and material and methods of warfare which are of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering or which are inherently indiscriminate in violation of the international law of armed conflict, provided that such weapons, projectiles and material and methods of warfare are the subject of a comprehensive prohibition and are included in an annex to this Statute, by an amendment in accordance with the relevant provisions set forth in articles 121 and 123;

2.b.xxi. Committing outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment;

2.b.xxii. Committing rape, sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, as defined in article 7, paragraph 2 (f), enforced sterilization, or any other form of sexual violence also constituting a grave breach of the Geneva Conventions;

2.b.xxiii. Utilizing the presence of a civilian or other protected person to render certain points, areas or military forces immune from military operations;

2.b.xxiv. Intentionally directing attacks against buildings, material, medical units and transport, and personnel using the distinctive emblems of the Geneva Conventions in conformity with international law;

2.b.xxv. Intentionally using starvation of civilians as a method of warfare by depriving them of objects indispensable to their survival, including wilfully impeding relief supplies as provided for under the Geneva Conventions;

2.b.xxvi. Conscripting or enlisting children under the age of fifteen years into the national armed forces or using them to participate actively in hostilities.

[heartfullofleeches]

Hello hello my birthday is tomorrow I was wondering if I could perhaps ask for some birthday hcs with your yandere bee from the cafe? Like how darlings birthday would be celebrated?

[Hope these are to your liking. Writing these reminded me of how much I love Robbie/Honey they're such a trip. Happy birthday, Chief!]

"Happy birthday, Sunny! Congrats on another trip around the sun. I know it's pretty late, but open this one present and I'll let you go back to sleep - kay?"

• Honey is the type of bee to wake you up at the stroke of midnight - excitedly hugging their alarm clock until the second the day technically begins. Every minute should be celebrated in their eyes. They're also the type to start the celebration a few days early - paying for everything you buy that week (they do this anyway, but if you thank them they'll say "Don't thank me - it's for your birthday!), warning folks they'd better be extra nice to you because your "big day" is coming up, taking care of your half of the chores-

• Their first gift to you on your big day is a flower crown (fake flowers if you're allergic) It's a tradition in their family plus they just think you look so cute in one. If using real flowers they waste the time waiting for midnight by weaving the crown then so it's fresh as possible when they put it on you. They have a sash for you too, but they understand if you don't want it.

If it's also the first birthday you're spending together this is likely when Honey gifts you a key to your own apartment in their complex. [Mother gifted them the entire building on their 18th birthday] They could've given it to you before, but then you'd have less of a reason to spend in their home. The cameras they set up in your apartment make up for the nights you want to spend alone.

• It's either a fancy dinner and a homemade cake, or a homemade dinner and a fancy cake. Regardless, you'll be well taken care of as Honey loves cooking/baking in their spare time. It's a struggle for them to make plans - do they spoil you with a night out or make you something from the heart? They might ask for your preference on the matter as best as they can without spoiling too much.

"This totally isn't related to anything I'm doing - but if you had to choose, which would you like more? Me cooking your favorite meal or us going out? No wrong answers, this time!"

• Birthday Kisses - y'know that thing where people punch someone for every year they've been alive? Honey does that, but with smooches for you. They smother you with love all the time, but those kisses are special (mostly because they find it fun to try and sneak kisses)

• At the end of the day, your birthday is as big for them as it for you. It's the day their favorite person came into the world - their sunshine. How can they not spoil you rotten for pulling them out of the depressive state they've been in majority of their life? They're so lucky to have you - and will do anything to prove how much you mean to them.

[tennessoui]

for the microstory challenge!!! 2 - this was a mistake

"So," Obi-Wan says, pressing a hesitant hand over his bleeding brow and wincing. "I think we are both in agreement that this was a mistake."

Anakin scowls and turns his head on the cot so that he's facing away from his master, pure petulance radiating from him. "It was romantic."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says, but even he can tell that he sounds terribly fond. "We're both in the Halls of Healing, dear one. Twenty minutes into our first romantic outing as a couple, you suffered an allergic reaction to cocavet seeds and hit your head on the table of the restaurant as you fell, causing a minor fire and major panic--primarily from the orchestra you paid to serenade us at the table. Then I crashed the speeder trying to get you back to the Temple before you asphyxiated in the passenger seat. If this is your idea of romance, I'm not entirely certain either of us--or Coruscant--will survive our relationship. Let alone a second date.

Anakin scowls harder, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so downtrodden and young that Obi-Wan has to sigh and lean forward, patting his blanket covered thigh with his blood-free hand.

"There, there," he says. "Perhaps our talents lay in romantic evenings inside the temple. Hm?"

Anakin turns to look at him at least, face scrunching up. "Like in the Room of a Thousand Fountains?" he asks, looking intrigued.

"No," Obi-Wan says quickly, though he bites his tongue before he remind his former padawan that the Room of a Thousand Fountains is a sacred Jedi place. Not a place for Jedi to chase after teenage fantasies. That would just distract them both from his very real point he is trying to make. Primarily, "I meant somewhere more private, dear one."

Anakin's eyebrows pinch together.

"Our quarters, perhaps."

"Oh! Oh," Anakin says in quick succession. Honestly, Obi-Wan would be worried about a concussion making his padawan slower on the uptake than usual, but he was (regrettably) present for much of Anakin's relationship with Padmé Amidala. He understands that love makes Anakin rather stupid.

"Oh," Obi-Wan agrees, patting his leg and standing as the healer on duty calls his name and beckons him towards an examination room. "I will leave you to work out the kinks in that arrangement."

He is treated to a particularly lovely image of his padawan turning scarlet for a moment over nothing more than a bit of wordplay.

"Master," Anakin says once Obi-Wan has taken several steps away from him. He looks over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked. Anakin's eyes are wide and earnest, but there's a hint of a curl to his lips, something more devious beneath his mask. "Don't worry, Master, you're not out of a job yet."

Obi-Wan stops, narrows his eyes in consideration as he weighs what is obviously a trap versus the joy he gets from bantering with Anakin, before turning around to face him completely. "I'm sorry?"

The smile lingering around Anakin's mouth breaks out into a full out grin. "You take my breath away better than any cocavet seed ever could."

"I liked it a lot more when your throat was too swollen to talk," Obi-Wan decides, and Anakin barks out a laugh in response.

"Oh," the healer says some minutes later. "Your face is rather warm, Master Kenobi. Have you been affected by an allergic reaction as well?"

Obi-Wan does not give into the urge to put his face in his hands, but it is a rather close call. After all, he's definitely been affected by something.

[prompt from this list of microfic prompts]

[shatcey]

I've become an animal (Ellis)

Ellis Elbert

I'm not a native speaker of either English or Japanese. So there may most likely be errors in my translations. I use autotranslation and rewrite the text to a readable state. Some phrases are not clear to begin with, and I use my gut feeling and some experience of reading such poorly translated texts that have taught me to see meaning in them. My summaries are always full of my comments and jokes. If you prefer a clean translation, then you definitely won't like it.

Hmmm… Not bad. I have to put that on my main page.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where were many onomatopoeic sounds that varied greatly in shape and duration depending on what Kate was "saying", I will stick to the original as much as possible. I haven't used it here often, but I'm warning you just in case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate woke up and realized that something was wrong. She looked in the mirror, slowly processing what she saw.

She remembered how the day before they went on a date with Ellis and she saw a black cat.

Ellis immediately asked if she interested, and she replied that she wanted to pet her and was worried if she was hungry.

Don't worry, girl, Alfons feeds them… She's fine.

So… back to the present.

She finally accepts the fact that she is a kitten and runs to Ellis. But she stopped worriedly in front of his door not knowing what to do.

Suddenly the door opens and Ellis kicks the poor kid. Ouch! He immediately apologizes and notices that she seems to be in pain.

I do not think so… But I have no choice but to agree when you smile like that…

Roger examined her and found only a bruise, but put a bandage on just in case… And recommended complete rest. As Ellis likes, she is completely under his care. But suddenly Roger heard something...

NO! Don't leave me with him...

Thank you, thank you, thank you... I'll kiss you later.

Jude is clearly not happy with this addition to their team.

Initially, it was an even more colorful description, but I didn't figure out how to make it sound normal. So I shortened it to this.

I can almost hear him saying: "What is… THAT?" pointing an accusing finger at the cat. Hah…

Jude listens to Ellis's explanation and gives them time to eat. So Ellis feeds the cat milk, puts it in his pocket, and they all go to work. I wonder which pocket? I only see them on his pants… no… I don't wanna think about it… Damn it! I cannot stop thinking about it!

This was another person who decided that he might NOT return the money to Jude in time. Why are they so stupid? They know about his reputation, but they keep doing it…

As usual, Ellis and Jude are playing good and bad cops. But… suddenly, the nobleman noticed the kitten and was very scared. He's allergic. So in order to save his life (or pride), he immediately returns the money.

Outside, Jude is thinking out loud, looking at the cat.

I'm sure he figured out… He's too smart not to notice…

And after that, he gives Ellis the day off, and they return to the castle. Ellis went all over the rooms and couldn't find Kate anywhere. He became restless, so Kate, in the form of a cat, tried to calm him down by asking him to pet her. Ellis remarks that she behaves exactly like Kate.

Premium ending

Somewhere on the way home, Ellis bought everything he needed to take care of the cat. And decided to comb her fur, of course, for Kate's sake.

They're both having a great time. But Kate suddenly thinks about what would happen to Ellis if "she" continued to be missing, and somehow… she kisses him…

Ellis is in complete shock

He recovered from the shock and gave her his jacket. He remembered all the awkward details of what she had been doing all day… And suddenly Roger knocked on the door, saving her.

But Ellis wouldn't let him. When Kate asked him why. He said he didn't want Roger examined her entire body… So the fact that she turns into a cat and back should remain a secret between them.

And after that, Ellis starts checking if Kate is human by kissing her…

So...

I didn't buy the epilogue. I'm already a little burned out of Ellis (I'm so fickle). I'll probably buy Elbert's epilogue though. His event made a greater impression on me. NOT because of Alfons! Okay, partly because of Alfons. But the event is really interesting for a completely different reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 Start page 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Adventures Thoughts

So, my fics were pretty short tonight because I was stuck on a coach for six hours and couldn't write much but I do have some random Big Adventures thoughts that may or may not make it into fics at some point but I'm just going to share them all with you now 😊

I've mentioned it very briefly in an ask before but when Princesse was very young she spoke Swedish with a slight Danish accent and Magda hated it. It faded after she started living with Magda but it's always funny to Pernille whenever anyone brings it up

It's not been used a lot but moster Frido is a big part of Princesse's life. This is coming in a fic soon but after the doctors and Magda and Pernille, she's actually the next person to hold Princesse and she's the one that brings her girl-swan and girl-moose when she's a baby. Princesse adores her in the way all young girls idolise their older, female relatives and Frido's definitely the one she turns to when she's older and doesn't want to talk to her mums about certain things

Magda feels a bit inadequate sometimes (particularly early on) when she finds out just how easy Pernille and Princesse work together on things and it's a pretty steep learning curve for her but she adapts pretty quickly

Every shirt Princesse gets when she's younger, she wears to bed the night she gets it. Some shirts (like Leah's) she hoards for weeks before letting them get washed and framed if she thinks they're special enough

Princesse is deathly allergic to kiwi, banana and avocado but only slightly allergic to latex

Sometimes on the bus to away games, Princesse curls up on Jessie's lap and naps with her. Pernille has a whole photo album of pictures of Jessie and Princesse napping

The gloves that Zećira gives Princesse after the match against the USA, Princesse keeps. It becomes a bit of a superstition but before every match, she puts them on and then takes them off to put on her own gloves because she wants Zećira's good luck from that game to rub off on her

Princesse is absolutely a prodigy at keeping. Magda and Pernille debate sometimes whether there must be some kind of keeper dna in the donor they chose (because it certainly didn't come from Magda's) or whether or not it was the near hero worship Princesse has for Zećira that made her want to prove herself

Princesse's schooling ends up being a bit all over the place. She only starts school when they all move back to Germany and she only really goes in a few times a week because Magda and Pernille's schedules can be erratic sometimes and it's a bit easier to home-school her (and because of the slight separation anxiety Magda develops but will forever deny). When Magda and Pernille retire and they end up in Sweden, Princesse's time is taken up by academy training and then when she hits fifteen, professional training so she ends up taking online school

I think I've mentioned this as well but Princesse never lets in a penalty her entire career and it makes other players all the more nervous during penalty shootouts at major tournaments because she continually blocks them. It becomes kind of a thing that commentators at matches talk about in the 'is this the day someone finally scores a penalty against her' kind of way

Like Magda did, Princesse gives away her World Cup medals but this time to Magda and Pernille rather than a child of her own

Almost all of Princesse's World Cup jerseys get given away to players from her childhood (if and when she defeats their teams) while the others go to Magda and Pernille

For club football, Princesse has her first name on her back but for every international match, it's her last name

Princesse feels awkward getting praise sometimes from people that aren't her mothers which is something that carries into adulthood so, at award shows and such things, she always brings them with her because it makes her feel less awkward

Speaking of award shows, Princesse is presented with awards by both Mary Earps when she grows up along with Alexia and Aitana

[elsewhereuniversity]

What does it mean that I get tipsier off moonlight and sugar than I do alcohol? What does it mean that I crave the weight of iron in my hand, the numb of chill in my fingertips, and I find I could almost (not quite, but a near thing) live off meat and sugar alone? The crows refuse to eat my offerings. My friends tell me all my favorite dolls are haunted. What does it mean?

I've checked all the traditonal counter-measures. Iron doesn't burn, salt is a comfort rather than a repulsion, I can't be bothered to count spilled seeds, and running water is a lure, not a boundary. I chipped my tooth on silver once, and the air tasted the same after.

Sometimes I hear calling out the window, and on the street at night, but I've never answered-- I'm not sure what I'd be running to. Archivist, weary wary friend, what do these things mean?

You're no changeling... but there's something up your family tree, more likely than not. Far enough back that you're reacting to iron the way some people think fruit they're allergic to is simply supposed to be spicy. But present nonetheless. Perhaps they're still around in the Else, time here being what it is. Look out the window the next time you hear someone calling to you, and see if their face echoes old family portraits, like a familiar story written in an unfamiliar hand.

[swimmingismywholelife]

The Only Reason

Summary: Even though your relationship with Christian has been rocky, neither of you are willing to go down without a fight.

Warnings: 18+, arguments, panic attack, a lot of crying, angst but a fluffy (if you can call it that I guess) ending, SMUT, some dirty talk, soft dom!Chris, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and make sure you're not allergic to your wrap!), fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is sweet tbh

WC: 4.4K

A/N: It's my birthday but this is a present for all of you! Inspired by "The Only Reason" by 5 Seconds of Summer. My first attempt at smut which lowkey I wasn't supposed to add but it fit anyway. This is a step considering I'm openly horny on main now so you might see more in the future 👀. I literally changed it 1274045923845 times but I'm happy with the way it turned out so I hope you guys think it's good-

"Even though my dizzy head is numb

I swear my heart is never giving up.

You're the reason

The only reason."

~~~

The front door slammed shut, indicating Christian was finally home from training. You sighed, praying this would blow over quickly so you could enjoy your dinner.

The past few weeks had been incredibly frustrating for the both of you. Chelsea had been on a losing streak with hardly any goals and Christian hardly got any play time. He was in the middle of trying to negotiate some sort of deal with the club, either to transfer or give him more playing time. Although it wasn't the option he preferred, it was likely he'd be transferred somewhere else soon, and with that contract talks had to be opened. He loved Chelsea, but the club didn't seem to return that love to him. It heavily weighed on Christian's mind, slowly draining him of the love he had for the sport, sending him deeper into a depressive and angry spiral causing him lash out on everyone.

On top of that, your own stresses had started building up. Your workload had tripled due to you being short staffed. Every time you thought you were done with a project, a modification was added or a brand new one was added to your list of things to do. You were working overtime almost every single day and you were close to ripping your hair out.

Between your work and Christian's training, you'd hardly seen each other over the past few months. He'd been extra short with you recently, something that was pretty unusual for Christian. You were typically the one who struggled to keep your anger in check, but these days it seemed your boyfriend could give you a run for your money. Most days you spent sleeping away from each other as opposed to being cuddled in each others arms. During the very brief moments you did end up spending time together, more often than not it resulted in some kind of an argument.

You both agreed earlier that morning that you were in desperate need of some kind of date night to ease your minds and to spend time together. You decided that a simple dinner would be sufficient enough. It was something small, you wouldn't have to go anywhere, and it was always one of your favorite date ideas since you'd gotten together. You were excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend even if it wasn't anything fancy.

But you knew by the way Christian slammed the door that he thought otherwise. He angrily threw his training bag to the side, grumbling to himself.

"Chris, it doesn't do you any good to pace angrily around the house," you sighed. "At least come eat and try to take your mind off things."

It seemed you only made him angrier.

"God, what don't you get?!" he snapped back. "Fucking food isn't gonna help the situation. Our team is shit, this situation is shit, everything is shit!"

You stood up from your place at the table, upset with Christian for yelling at you when you just wanted to help.

"I understand you're frustrated with everything, but don't take it out on me!" you yelled back. "All I'm trying to do is help you. I'm not a fucking emotional punching bag for you to take your shit out on Christian!"

He slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. It startled you. Christian wasn't one to express his anger through violence like this.

"Why do I even keep fucking trying with you?! All you do is nag and nag and nag! You keep 'trying to help' but you're not!" he screamed back. "All you do is get in my face of 'oh Christian do this,' 'oh Christian try and do that.' Get out of my face for once I'm fucking tired of it!"

You were stunned. Your heart with each word Christian spat out at you. You loved him, but you knew you didn't deserve what he'd been giving you for the past few months.

"Fine. I'll 'get out of your face,'" you said calmly.

"Actually you know what? I'll do it myself. Being in here suffocates me," he said venomously, grabbing his keys and storming out the house.

You moved into the bedroom the two of you shared. What once felt like home to you felt like a prison suffocating you the longer you stood in it. And you just fell to your knees and cried.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where it all started going wrong. You and Christian weren't perfect of course, but you just worked. You understood each other like no one else. You'd experienced things together that you'd never had with other people. You hadn't grown up with Christian in the past, but that didn't matter. He was your present and was going to be your future.

But that was then. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Nowadays he barely made time for you. He was gone before you woke up and you were asleep before he came home. Date nights were nonexistent, special occasions stopped being special. You couldn't keep begging for his attention, wondering if this time would be enough to keep it.

You didn't want things to end. That was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do. You loved Christian with everything you had. But you were the only one trying and you both knew that. Somewhere Christian just fell out of love with you while you were desperately trying to grasp onto something. But it was no use. He was gone a long time ago.

Christian was in the middle of figuring out the trajectory of his career, unsure if he was to wait out his contract with Chelsea for the next season or leave for a club that truly appreciated him. And pretty soon, he would be flying back to the States for international break. The last thing you wanted to do was add onto the stress Christian was feeling.

But how long would you have to keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of his?

Christian didn't come home that night, nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Not that you really expected him to. He hadn't been home all that much anyway, and even while he was there physically, he wasn't there. So sleeping alone in your bed wasn't that much of a foreign feeling anymore anyway. And the longer he was away, the foggier your mind became. The answer was right there in front of you. This was Christian blatantly telling you how he felt about your relationship. Right?

It wasn't until about a week later that Christian had contacted you, letting you know he'd be coming back that night. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

The door opened, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You could hear the clattering of the keys being placed on the table and footsteps heading up the stairs.

The lights flickered in your bedroom. Your eyes met his, startling him.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you'd still be up," Christian said surprised, removing his jacket and placing it on a chair.

"We need to talk Christian," you said, trying to prevent your voice from wavering.

"We'll talk in the morning, Y/N. It's kind of late and I don't want another fight right now," he responded.

"I'm serious Christian," you answered, feeling your heart breaking already. "And I don't think this can wait until morning."

"Why do you keep using my full name?" Christian asked uncomfortably. "You only use it like this when something's really wrong."

You didn't answer. Instead you got up from your place on the bed and hugged his waist, completely breaking down. You felt like you couldn't breathe through all the tears and the pain you felt. Your body gave out as you fell to the ground, taking Christian with you.

For a second time that night, Christian was surprised. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Hey, hey, baby what's wrong? What's going on?" he asked.

You couldn't get the words out. You only cried harder as he led you back to your bed. You took in this moment with him, not knowing if this was the last night you would sharing with him. You tried to memorize the scent of his favorite cologne, how perfectly you fit into his arms, the way his kisses felt. You wanted to remember how safe you felt with Christian and how your heart longed for him to come home to you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. I'm right here. I won't ever let anything hurt you," he said, trying to soothe you.

Little did he realize he was the reason you were hurting so much.

You held Christian close to you as the weight of your decision started to kick in. You wanted nothing more in this world than to be with Christian. He meant everything to you. You wanted it all with him. You wanted to marry him one day, carry his children, grow old together. You wanted to wear his last name to every game he played, to support him as he reached all his dreams. You could have nothing but Christian and you would be perfectly content.

Your mother had told you growing up that every scenario that came your way had three answers: yes, no, or wait. And you so desperately wanted to believe Christian was your sign that being patient was worth it. That waiting would be worth it. That one day it would bring you the happiness you craved and you deserved.

But how long were you supposed to wait? How long had you waited for him to fulfill his promises? How long had you been patient with him? How long had you stayed loyal every time he'd taken his anger out on you? How long had you been contemplating if you were worth saving? Was this just patience or were you holding onto something that you should've let go of a long time ago?

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier baby," he said, stroking your hair trying to soothe you. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

You couldn't get words out. You needed just one last night to call yourself his before you could make your final decision.

"Just hold me please," you sobbed out, gripping his body as hard as you could.

"I'll do whatever you need baby. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Christian was scared. He didn't fully understand what was going on or why you were crying the way you were. But he knew something was off and something was wrong. So he just held you as you let out all the emotions you'd been feeling for weeks.

Christian knew it was more serious than he initially thought when you kept crying for over an hour. He didn't realize how absent he'd been from your life until then. How long had you been feeling such emotional turmoil? What else had he missed? Why were you crying this hard for so long?

Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. As shitty of a boyfriend he'd been over the past few weeks, Christian loved you with every fiber of his being. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, the relationship you'd built up for years together.

But he knew the likelihood of a break up was probably looming in your mind. Was this it? Was this a sign that something was coming to an end? He didn't want to know. He knew you two needed to talk, especially after the way he walked out. But he was afraid of the outcome.

So he just held you close to him, praying this wouldn't be the last time he got to feel you like this. He took in your scent, trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms. He left kisses on your forehead, shoulders, and cheeks, wiping the tears away as he went.

You eventually calmed down, your grip on Christian never loosening.

"Christian I-" you gasped out.

"It's okay baby, take your time. You don't have to rush anything you don't want to," he whispered gently, kissing your forehead again.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I've been such a horrible boyfriend. I shouldn't have said what I said, I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Christian…" you trailed.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk about this in the morning. Just let me hold you right now. Everything is going to be okay," he said softly.

"Chris I'm scared," you whispered.

His heart broke a little knowing you were scared of what morning would entail.

"I'm scared too baby. I'm so fucking scared," he admitted. "But we'll talk about this when it comes okay? Just be here with me now. Nothing else is going to hurt you tonight I promise."

The two of you were laying on your side facing each other. Your head was tucked into his chest, tears flowing every so often. Christian never once let go, not even when his arms started going numb. You were afraid to close your eyes, scared that Christian would be gone the moment you opened them.

Your body stopped shaking and you eventually stopped crying during the early morning hours. You were quiet. And if he didn't know you well, Christian would've believed you were asleep.

But he knew better. He knew that you couldn't sleep because neither could he. Just two souls barely hanging on by a thread not knowing how to fix it.

Did you want to fix things? Or were things so far gone there was nothing you could do anymore? Was this still worth it? Was a future still possible? Would love be enough to save this?

You were set on breaking up with him the night before. You were so sure that's what you wanted. But under the moonlight that peaked through your window, you didn't know what to do anymore. Your head was dizzy with thoughts and you couldn't think clearly anymore.

"Christian?" you called out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

His body tensed at the question. He was quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He knew this was it. His answer would either make or break your relationship.

"I don't know baby," he answered honestly.

You nestled your head further into his chest.

"I don't want to keep doing this. Guessing if you still want us. You're either in or you're out Chris. I don't want to keep playing your games."

Christian had to stop himself from letting out a sob and took a deep breath. You didn't trust him or his words anymore. And realizing that absolutely broke his heart.

"Can you look at me Y/N?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before lifting your head. Christian cupped your cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You don't have to say anything okay? Just hear me out. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend. I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't treated you well. I've lashed out on you when you've done nothing but love and support me. Through all the shit the world's thrown at me this season, you've been everything I need and more. And I haven't appreciated that. And you deserve so much more than what I've been giving you."

Christian stopped for a moment, taking the opportunity to look at you. How could he have hurt you so bad? How could he let everything slip between his fingers?

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry that you've lost trust in my words. You always tell me that my words, my actions, and my intentions need to line up and they haven't been and I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry I've broken so many promises. And most of all, I'm sorry that you're hurting and I'm the cause of it when I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you. I failed to see what was right in front of me and I've taken you for granted and I'm so sorry."

A tear fell from your eye, quickly caught by Christian's thumb.

"I don't deserve you. I really don't. You know that and I know that better than anyone."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead further into yours.

"But please don't give up on us. I know you can't trust my words right now, but I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can't let you go. Not now and not ever. No more games. No more confusion. No more trying to guess where my head and where my heart stand with you. Right here, right now, forever and always I'm with you. My head is with you. My heart is with you. All of me is with you. And I promise I'll prove it every day for as long as I live. So please. Give me one last chance to be with you."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. How could you trust him? He was saying all the right words, but did he really mean it? Were they more empty words?

Yes, no, or wait. Just like your mother said. But you'd waited so long that it seemed almost futile. Had you been wasting your time? Or was this what you were meant to do?

And though your head was fighting with itself, dizzy and numb from the constant questions running around, you knew where your heart lied. So you did the only thing you felt could portray how you felt enough to give him and answer.

You lifted your chin and kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip on your cheek was firm, bringing you as close as you could physically get. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from either of your faces, but none of that mattered. What mattered was here and now.

Yes, no, or wait. And you finally got your answer.

He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And truthfully, he needed you to breathe.

You pulled back ever so slightly, just enough for you to be able to talk.

"You get one chance at this Chris. Only one," you said breathlessly. "Don't waste it."

His lips were back on yours in response, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan as he pushed you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. He pulled back keeping his forehead to yours breathing heavily.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much you don't even know," he said. "I won't waste it. Not ever again."

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to your lips, needing to feel him closer. Your hands traveled underneath his shirt, nails scratching his skin lightly as they roamed his chest.

Christian pulled back from you for a moment to rip his shirt off before attaching his lips back to yours, giving you more access to him. You couldn't keep your hands off each other, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring you even closer to him.

"Chris," you whispered. "I need-"

"I know baby," he answered. "I know. Let me take care of you."

You whimpered beneath him as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of marks as he gave you sloppy but gentle kisses. He bit down on the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a loud moan.

"Does that feel good baby?" he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine that resonated throughout your whole body.

"God yes Chris it feels so good please," you begged beneath him.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt, bringing it over your head and pressing his chest against yours as he kissed your lips gently.

"So fucking beautiful. And all mine," he said to himself.

His lips returned to your neck, this time the trail leading to your breasts. You gasped as you felt his tongue along your nipple, pressing yourself further into his mouth. You only squirmed more as he moved to your other side, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging lightly. He kissed down your torso until he reached the band of your shorts.

"May I?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head frantically.

"Words baby." His fingers hooked into them, toying with the fabric. "You know the drill. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me."

"Yes please," you whined, wiggling your hips in the hopes of getting the clothing off you faster.

"Please what Y/N?"

"Please take them off Chris please. I wanna feel you on my pussy please, please, please."

"Good girl."

He slowly slid your shorts down, taking a little too long for your liking. He kissed down your stomach, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

His fingers rubbed over the dark spot of your underwear. You gasped, hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He moved his fingers almost in a trance watching as the patch grew darker and larger.

"You're so fucking wet baby. You like it when I touch you like this?" he chuckled.

"Yes I love feeling you play with my pussy!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his fingers.

Christian pulled your underwear to the side. You shivered in anticipation as you felt Christian's breath on your lips.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, running his fingers through your folds.

"God yes! Please let me feel your tongue," you begged, lacing your fingers through his hair to bring him closer.

"As you wish princess."

Your back arched the moment his tongue made contact with you. He licked from the bottom all the way to your clit, lightly sucking on it. You moaned tugging at his curls. The louder you moaned, the faster he went alternating between licking and sucking. Your thighs closed around his head as you pushed him closer to you.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you were surprised when Christian inserted two of his fingers into your folds. You moaned even louder at the intrusion.

"God Christian more please. Please I need more!"

You were begging, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. You just wanted him to keep going.

Christian was enjoying every second of this. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You need more baby? So greedy. My tongue sucking on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. What else could you want?" he teased, picking up the speed as he fucked you with his fingers.

You couldn't form any proper sentences anymore. Incoherent noises left your mouth as your body started shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Damn baby you're shaking. Are you close already? I've barely even done anything," he mused, inserting a third finger and fucking you even faster.

"God I'm so fucking close please let me cum! Please please please I need to cum please Christian please!" you all but screamed.

"Shh, it's okay. You can cum baby. Let it go for me," he said softly.

Your vision went blank as you came, your hands grasping at Christian's curls to anchor you to reality. Your legs shook violently as Christian continued coaxing your climax out of you, only slowing down as your body started spasming with overstimulation.

"Christian I need more," you whined, gasping for air.

"I know baby, I know. I'll take good care of you," he said. "I'm right here okay?"

Christian kissed your lips gently, making your heart flutter. He softly caressed your face admiring how you glowed under the moonlight. You melted under his gaze holding him close to you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. He moved back just enough to remove his bottoms before taking his place between your legs again. He placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. He looked deep into your eyes as his thrusted his hips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as he picked up the speed, grinding slow but deep.

"I love you Christian," you moaned breathlessly.

"I love you Y/N," he responded. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving my worth to you."

The room was quiet except for the skin slapping against each other and the soft gasps you let out. You grabbed Christian's neck, bringing him as close as you possibly could. You needed him in every sense of the word, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on yours. He was yours and you were his. Your bodies intertwined in the same way your souls had all those years ago and that was all you really needed.

"Chris I need-" you were cut off with a particularly deep thrust making you moan, tugging at the curls on the nape of Christian's neck.

"I'm close too baby. Cum with me. Become one with me Y/N."

You had one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever had in your life. Your chest pressed into his as his cum filled you up, clenching your pussy around him. You held each other tightly, afraid to lose one another as space came between you.

The both of you laid there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of being so intimate. You gasped into each others mouths as your heartrates began to slow down ever so slightly.

"God you're so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Christian said in awe of you.

You flushed beneath him becoming shy.

"Babe you just came all over my dick. You really shouldn't be that shy," he said cheekily. You scoffed and hit his chest slightly.

"You're actually ridiculous," you said lovingly, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

He pecked you once more before pulling out of you. He got up, grabbing a towel and gently cleaning your body. He left kisses as he went, worshipping your body. Once he was done, he laid on his back bringing your head onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you tucked yourself beneath his arm.

"Are we okay Christian?" you asked meekly.

"Yeah baby. We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

Taglist: @pulisicsgirl @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @masonspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @bracedes @mortirolo @nyctophilic0vitnir

[aclowntiny]

Hello!! I'm a baby Atiny and it has been some some weeks that I've been in love with the boys. I really love and appreciate them. I wanted to know if you'd be able to write ATEEZ reacting to their crush being allergic to flowers. I always read reactions and of course, flowers are a beautiful gesture, but it's actually funny when you're allergic haha.

Welcome to the ship of fools 🏴‍☠️😆 gotta know friend, who's your bias if you have one? So glad to see more atiny joining!!! 🥰 also I love your idea, that's such a funny & unique one! Also enjoy this wonderful shoot including my favorite picture of Jongho ever

Ateez Finding Out Their Crush is Allergic to Flowers

Hongjoong

It was going to be the perfect moment: the dashing protagonist winning his love interest with a heart-fluttering gesture: a single red rose presented with just the right flourish.

Or so Hongjoong thought.

“For you,” he almost whispered, holding out the rose with a smile and a darting gaze between the ruby petals and you.

“O-oh,” you stutter, taking the flower and twisting it nervously in your hand, “thank you. Hongjoong, this is so- achoo!” You can’t even get a full sentence out before breaking into a sneeze, even the small amount of pollen tightening your sinuses. You were worried this would happen, but come on, look at the man standing before you! You had a huge crush on him, and maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

Hongjoong’s hand fell gently upon your shoulder as your body was wracked with another sneeze, taking the rose back from your hand. “You’re allergic, aren’t you? From now on,” he chuckled, “no more real flowers, then.”

“What, you were going to get me more?” You asked, arching a brow at Hongjoong, who held the rose away from you twisting in his left hand.

“Only if you liked the first one,” he replied with a shy smile, gaze drifting from yours.

“I do, though!” You protested despite yourself. “Roses are my favorite. They’re so…so romantic,” you blushed.

“It was supposed to be,” he whispers, eyes and smile both widening as you take his empty hand in yours.

“I have some good news, then, you tell him, “You know what’s even more romantic?”

“What?”

“I have no problem with dried flowers, so you may hold it for a while, but I can press it and keep it forever.”

Seonghwa

Seonghwa had a surprise for you. This was the night he planned to confess to you, and for the occasion he’d bought the biggest bouquet of roses he could find. Ok, not the biggest, but a dozen very wide blooms that he hoped dearly would get his point across. As he went to pick you up, he hid the flowers gently in the back seat, laying in the dim light out of your view.

“Hi,” you greeted gently as you slid into his car, bringing an instant smile to Seonghwa’s face.

“Hi, how was your day?” He asked, gaze alternating between your lovely eyes and his rearview mirror as he backed out of your driveway. “I mean, I know you said work wasn’t great, so I wanted to cheer you up, but what happened?”

“Well, our management is just not great, and today we had five callouts, so…” Your words continued, but as you spoke, Seonghwa could see every time you passed a streetlight just how moist your eyes looked. How red.

He reached over, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly, “it’s over now and we’re going to have a good time tonight, ok? And I’m here to listen, so no need to cry.”

At that, your head snapped up in confusion. “Cry? No, today was stressful but I’m happy it’s over. I’m not crying, my allergies are just going crazy for some reason. It’s weird, I wasn’t outside for too long, but I guess the flowers must just be going.”

Uh, oh, did you say… “Flowers?”

“Yeah,” you nod, blinking, “they make my allergies flare up.”

A pang of guilt hit Seonghwa- he was only trying to brighten your day! “Uh,” he took his hand off your shoulder, gripping the wheel again and jerking his head toward the back seat, “I didn’t want to give you your surprise this early, but I think I went with the wrong surprise. Take a look in the back seat.”

He chuckled nervously as you turned around, starting as you burst into laughter. The noise was so sudden yet genuine he soon joined in.

“Oh my gosh, no wonder!” You breathed in between laughs. “I didn’t think I’d passed anything! You really got those to surprise me?”

“Unfortunately, I did,” Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, no, I needed the laugh,” you reassured him, “and they’re beautiful.”

Seonghwa looked at you intently. “Not as beautiful as you.”

Yunho

“Yunho, I have that cake I promised you!”

Your friendship with Yunho, you always joked, was based off of cooking. Ever since he found out you had some skills in the kitchen, you tried out new things to make him and brought it by when you hung out with your mutual friend, now friends, from his group. Not that you minded seeing Yunho more- he was super nice, maybe even the nicest in the group as you would quip, the man practically not letting you move a muscle and letting you get away with murder in the dorms. That was why you wanted to make him a cake, in fact. In your last message to him, you told him you would bring it.

“I thought you might say that,” he shot back, “which is why I got…this!”

Whirling around, reaching for something on the table, and whipping back to face you, Yunho produced a bouquet of flowers that he held out your way with a look of comical pride. The moment they (almost) hit you, your face contorted and you instinctively turned away as if struck.

“Whoa, did I scare you? I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank you with something pretty for always being so bright and kind.” The way his face fell had your heart shattering.

“No, no, please don’t think anything bad,” you waved your hands, “I react quickly like that when I see flowers because I’m allergic. I- I didn’t want to sneeze on the cake and ruin it!”

“O-oh,” he stuttered, running a hand through his hair and freezing for a second before darting forward to collect the exposed cake on its tray from you, “I see! Well here, let me get this! And don’t worry, I’ll hold onto the flowers and get you something even better!”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you denied, playing with the hem of your shirt and rolling your shoulders at freedom from your burden, “I really am happy to bake for you.”

“And I,” Yunho countered, leaning a bit closer to you with a beam, “am happy to shower you with anything that shows my appreciation!”

Yeosang

“Oh, (y/n), there you are!”

Turning around, you see Yeosang crossing the café toward where you sat, hands behind his back. “Oh, yeah sorry, I kind of hid from you! I thought a corner table might be nice.”

He smiles at your words, momentarily distracting you from what he was hiding. “That’s perfect for me.”

“Good!” You clap your hands. “Wanna do our usual?” Your usual meaning getting two mini-desserts and splitting them.

“Of course I do,” he replies brightly, “you’re the only one who’ll do that with me!”

“That’s because they can’t get on your wavelength,” you mock-brag, crossing your arms.

“No,” he muses as he lowers himself into the chair across from you, maneuvering his hidden arms carefully, “and I really appreciate it. Maybe you know it, but just in case you don’t, here.”

With that, before you could even ask him what he was hiding, he whips out a beautiful bouquet of pink and white flowers, roses, freckled lilies, and dainty white violas standing out to your eyes. And your nose.

“Oh, these are so-achoo!- beautiful, Yeosang, I really love the- ACHOO!” How embarrassing, you thought, here is he giving you something so beautiful and your allergies are keepong you from appreciating it. You sneezed once more and Yeosang’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Oh, are you allergic to something in here? I had no idea, I just wanted to show you some-”

“Oh, don’t apologize. Achoo! You didn’t know,” you replied, voice starting to sound stuffy, “and I really appreciate the gesture. Can you just take them back for a second and-”

He pulled the bouquet out from near your face immediately, handing you his napkin, which you gratefully accepted. You wanted a hole to open below you and swallow you up, but your heart and breaths calmed a bit when you saw how fondly he was still looking at you.

“I hope this doesn’t mean I have to take back my confession, too.”

San

“Thank you so much for coming, (y/n). It really means a lot,” San told you as he rounded a corner towards a road ending in a wooden arch.

“Of course, San, anytime,” you answered, clutching the basket you’d offered to hold for him on the drive, “how could I not? It sounds like fun, I can’t believe no one wanted to go with you for a farm day!”

“Right?” He agreed, eyes shining. “On the pick your own day nonetheless! But that means I get to have even more fun with you!”

Your heart swelled at San’s words and the excited motion of his hands- he really was a sweetheart, you thought as you pulled through the wooden arch with the farm name on it. You could see it was European-inspired judging by the font of the arch lettering and stylings of the little cottage and barn. This would be an adorable day.

The moment you parked and got out, however, you felt that weighty feeling in your skull that usually symbolized your eyes swelling. As San brought you to the back of the farm by where a family was heading, baskets on all five of their arms, your heart fell.

It was a field of tulips, three of them to be precise. Rows of red, then yellow, then pink, all dotted by excited people with clippers and all but tinting the air yellow with pollen. A strangled sound left your lips as your eyes burned, and San couldn’t help but notice.

“(y/n), is everything all right?”

Your hands folded nervously behind your back as your chest hammered. It felt so bad to ruin this for San- could you even do it?

“I’ll be fine,” you brush it off, “my flower allergy is just acting up.”

San’s jaw drops. “What? You have a-” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s completely all right, we can just-”

“Go to the peach picking instead,” he finishes for you, “you’re more important to me than some flowers I can get in a shop. I’d rather we make a good memory together than just get some flowers, ok?”

He’s greatly rewarded for this when you lean in and kiss his cheek. “You’re so sweet, San. That sounds great to me.”

Mingi

“Alright, are you ready?”

“Yes,” you giggle, eyes firmly closed as you sat in the passenger seat, “I can’t wait to open my eyes again!”

“But no peeking!”

“No peeking,” you repeat as you feel along the rough strap of your seat belt until your finger finds the release button.

“Good. Wait there and I’ll come get you,” Mingi says, and you hear the driver’s seat door open. Moments later, your door opens as well and a hand finds yours, wrapping around it and pulling you out of the car.

The moment you stand up, Mingi’s hand falls gently across your face, covering your eyes which flutter open into a warmer darkness. Your feet don’t falter as he urges you forward on clearly excited footing, bringing a smile to your face.

“Wait until you see it, (y/n), it’s so beautiful! Just a few more steps here,” he says as he guides you up a slight incline. The ground beneath you feels like…dirt?

Your eyes itch beneath their human mask, and they start to feel heavy. You blink several times and Mingi catches it, hands faltering a little as his steps slow. A few eye-watering steps later, he bids you open your eyes, the warmth lifting from across your face as your head tilts to take in Mingi’s huge smile.

“Well? Don’t you think it’s pretty?” He holds out an arm, proudly sweeping it over a stunning view of hills dotted with small purple flowers, one of which you stood at the foot of.

“Yes, it’s…it’s gorgeous,” you blink a few more times, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as one falls.

“Wait,” Mingi’s smile drops, “are you crying? You are crying! What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

“No,” you smile, wiping the unshed tears from your puffy eyes, “I love it, Mingi, really. I’m just allergic to flowers is all, so my body has a funny way of showing it.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Oh, (y/n), I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! We can take pictures from far away, here…” His hand falls on yours again, this time tugging you away from the hills like they had the plague.

Chuckling, you dug your heels in, sending him reeling to face you. “Hey, I’ll be fine for some pictures in them as long as you don’t mind a few sniffles in between. I don’t look puffy, do I?”

Mingi shook his head, squeezing your hand. “You look gorgeous.”

Wooyoung

Subtlety be darned. “Hey (y/n),” Wooyoung leaned on the counter, “what’s your favorite flower?”

Your gaze turned from the microwave, where a bag of popcorn was popping. “Well, I really love orchids, I think they’re so pretty, but I’m allergic to flowers,” you answered with an alternate smile and frown.

Internally, Wooyoung smacked his forehead. What other kind of romantic gift could he get you to express his undying love for you and get you to go out with him and fall for him too and- oops, you were staring at him as he froze.

“Why?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Oh,” he stuttered, “no reason. Uh, do you, er… like chocolate?”

“Are you trying to shop for me or something?” You asked with an amused smile, head leaning on your hand, elbow bent to hit your zone of the counter.

Well, he had said screw subtlety. “I was, but if you’re going to be so difficult,” he teased, sauntering over to you and wrapping his arms around your midsection and turning toward you, voice warm against your ear, “I’ll just give you a different token of my affection.”

Before you could express your surprise, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Hope that was alright.”

Blushing, you nodded.

“Good,” he grinned with satisfaction, arms still around you, “because I’ve figured out your gift, too. I’ll get you an orchid necklace. How’s that for flowers?”

Jongho

“Getting flowers is the best feeling,” Seonghwa had said, to the agreement of the few other guys involved in the conversation.

“I wouldn’t know,” you joked, “I’m allergic, so no one’s ever gotten me any before.”

Gears turned in Jongho’s head the moment you said that, even as surprise fell across his face. “You’ve never received flowers before?”

“No,” you shook your head, “most people just know I can’t get them, I guess. Too bad, huh? I bet it does feel nice.”

Well, if Jongho had anything to say about it, you would find out.

~

“I- I got something for you, (y/n),” Jongho tells you, one hand behind his back.

Your jaw drops, hand rising to your chest. “Me? What for?”

“Because I really wanted to get you flowers,” he replies, taking his right hand out from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of the most realistic silk flowers you’d ever seen, a gorgeously vibrant splash of purple, yellow, green…

Your hand falls in shock, then rises again to caress the soft, lovely, and above all hypoallergenic blooms, chest ballooning with warmth. “You did this for me? These are beautiful, just as pretty as the real thing,” you gushed, “thank you, Jongho!”

Before he could reply, you leapt up, throwing your arms around his neck in an embrace he returned with his flower-free hand around your back. As you pulled away, he looked at you, eyes smiling.

“I’m really glad you like them, (y/n). You know, I like these too. They’ll never die this way. It feels poetic somehow, doesn’t it?”

Heart skipping a beat, you nod, reaching for his hand.

[kasagia]

Bring me a dream pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/general Kirigan x fem! sun summoner! reader Summary: Aleksander has always wanted to meet you. His soul mate. But when he finally has you by his side in the Little Palace, he realises that you are not the same after all, and the passage of time has changed both him and you. Can you find your way back? Rise to the occasion and give Grisha a brighter, safer future? Wairning(s): trauma, fold, volcra, abuse, de@th mention, Baghra is a terrible mother, Genya deserves better, Aleksander is a puppy that needs a hug, the reader has a moral conflict, they are all ALONE. Word count: 5,4k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell @louderfortheback @ludarklina-fan-spot @sayumiht @budugu @howibecameabadassbitch ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

Oh I'm scared to see the ending why are we pretending this is nothing? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how... I've never heard silence quite this loud. Taylor Swift - The Story of Us

"If he thinks I'm going to wear this, I would be more than happy to go and tell him that I'm not." you snort as you sit in the huge (very comfortable) bed in the room Aleksander has assigned you in the Little Palace.

Genya sighed as she put the black kefta with golden sun embellishments and sunbeams on the bed. Kefta was beautiful… if only it hadn't been tainted by his colour.

"The general insisted that you wear black to your presentation to the royal family."

"And I insist that he shouldn't take me to that circus. Did you tell him that?" the redhead giggled in amusement, which made me smile slightly.

It was a big change for her. After the first time I disobeyed Aleksander's orders, Genya looked at me with a mixture of fear, confusion and concern. However, she quickly learned that such skirmishes between us were the norm ... or at least I wasn't punished for them in any way. Except for Aleksander's inborn malice, which he surely gained from his mother.

"Oh I did… and General told me to tell you that if he had to, he'd carry you all the way to the Grand Palace himself. No matter what you would be wearing."

"Bastard." you mutter under your breath. You get out of bed and look at the kefta Genya made for you.

"The General doesn't let just anyone walk in his colors." she tells you in a conspiratorial tone. A small, mischievous smirk stretches across her lips.

You flinch, feigning disgust. "Don't even insinuate such things to me. He must be too old for me... Better tell me how your handsome friend Durast is?" you ask teasingly, laughing as you see the blush on her cheeks.

She bends down and steals a pillow from your bed to throw at you. You toss pillows, laughing. You both stop when, suddenly, after your dodging, a pillow thrown by Genya is caught by Aleksander standing in the doorway.

"Are you two enjoying yourself?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at both of you.

"Shouldn't you knock first before entering a lady's room?" you snort sarcastically, already annoyed by his serious, sepulchral demeanour.

"Shouldn't you be dressed already?"

"I don't like black and I'm allergic to royalty, so I'm not going," you say, crossing your arms. "And give me back my pillow."

Aleksander sighs as he throws a pillow at you, and if it wasn't for your quick reflexes, he would have punched you in the face. "Genya, wait a moment outside." he says as he enters your room and waits for the door to close behind the redhead.

You look at him defiantly with your arms crossed. "I'm not going anywhere." you declare firmly.

Aleksander sighs as he walks over to you. "Don't be a brat. I have hundreds of years of plans that will go awry if you don't do this one thing for me. So, for the sake of Grishas, ​​put your pride in your pocket and please put on this kefta."

"And how do you know your plans are good for them?"

Ever since you arrived at the Little Palace, the subject of the fold has come up many times between you... mostly it ended with you both taking offence at each other and taking your anger out on the other.

"We'll discuss this another time. Please, Y/N." he asks. You roll your eyes but take the kefta from the bed anyway. "Thank you," he says with relief.

"I'm not doing this for you." you say coldly and walk past him, locking yourself in the bathroom to change. You hear him stand still for a moment, processing your words, before storming out of the room in anger, letting Genya inside.

You could have kept quiet about his true identity and the plans he'd revealed to you, but you weren't going to stand by his side. No matter how he tries to convince you. And after looking at yourself in the mirror and at the kefta in his colours, you come to a terrible, but true conclusion.

You looked good in black…

"Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. And she is going to free as all." Aleksander introduces you to the crowd that has gathered and the royal family. You wince slightly at the drama of his words. Fortunately, in the darkness of the shadows he has summoned, only you two can see each other now.

He stands in front of you and watches carefully as you summon several beams of light.

It must not be enough for him, because suddenly he grabs you by the wrist... and then the real show happens.

You immediately feel his amplifying powers. You feel a familiar haze of daze, a sense of power and authority as light pours out of you, burning your veins from the inside out.

You like that feeling... it scares you as much as it fascinates you. And just by looking at Aleksander's smug, almost proud face, you know he's boasting that he still has such power over you... that he can still make you shine for him.

You look each other in the eye. Each with their own emotions. This time, you can see through his eyes what he feels. Pride. Admiration... the longing hidden behind the way he stared at you and your light as if he was enchanted.

He stepped aside, facing the royal family again. You yanked your hand out of his grip and, ignoring the disgruntled frown on his face, ended the show.

You were furious. You knew why he did it. He wanted to show exactly how much power you wield. That they fear you as much as they fear him. And he succeeded. Only he looked at you unwaveringly. The rest of the crowd either looked down, whispering to each other, or stared appraisingly at you.

Then the real hell began. For an hour, you were the main attraction, entertaining the nobility with your skills and your fake origin story. You didn't know what was worse. The fact that you voluntarily became a little toy at the royal court or that the constant presence of Aleksander by your side brought you some kind of relief and you were able to survive this torture thanks to him.

And the last thing you wanted to feel about that son of a bitch was gratitude. Not after he was the reason you had to come here. Therefore, as soon as you were able to leave the Grand Palace, you decided that you would act like a child and not speak to him. To which he just smiled under his breath. His mischievous grin was still as hot as it had been hundreds of years ago. Even better with his beard and shorter hair. Damn bastard.

Just as you are about to walk back into the Little Palace, you feel his hand on your elbow. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him. He doesn't answer you. He still smirks as he leads you away from the Little Palace to a place only he knows.

You roll your eyes. Apparently, you have to speak first if you want to know where he's taking you.

"All right. You won." You huff angrily. "Where are you dragging me? My room is over there." you say, pointing to the building next to you two.

"I think you'll appreciate fresh air more than closed walls. Especially after you've been stuck there with nobles and royals for so long." you snort, not for a moment believing in his sudden concern for your well-being.

Aleksander looks around, trying to make sure you're alone. He looks at you intently for a moment. A spark of mischief in his eyes. Then, at the speed of light, he unhooks your grandmother's bracelet from your wrist and runs away with it.

You stand there for a moment in shock before you run after him. "Hey! Give it back!" you shout after the retreating shadow summoner, who laughs.

Fortunately, his black kefta is easily spotted in gardens, so you have no problem tracking it. He stops suddenly, and you bump right into him. You fall to the ground, and he is beneath you.

You can't help but snort in amusement, then laugh when you see that he's somehow gotten his cheek dirty in the earth. He smiles and giggles too. You both stop when you see how close the two of you are after you reach up to his face and brush away clods of earth with your thumb.

His dark brown eyes watch you intently. You feel yourself blush under his intense gaze. But before he reaches out to cup your cheek with his hand (and maybe raise himself up on one elbow to kiss you), you reach for your bracelet and quickly stand up.

You fasten the bracelet around your wrist with his name on it and look around. You gasp as you see that he has led you to a beautiful lake with a small island in the centre.

"Do you like it?" Aleksander whispers in your ear. You turn your head towards him, freeze when you see how close he is to you. You involuntarily lick your lips as you look into his eyes.

"That's nice." you say, and you move away from him to go to the pier.

He doesn't stay far behind. After a while, he walks beside you. You both sit on the edge, arm in arm. You take off your shoes and dip your feet in the water while playing. You feel Aleksander's eyes on you, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a smirk on his face.

"I used to want to be a tidemaker. When I was a child, I was frustrated that I couldn't use my powers in public. My grandmother used to take me to the lake, and I had only one desire while swimming..."

"To be anyone else." he finishes for you. You shift your gaze from the lake to him. He stares into the distance, as if remembering the past. "Stop being afraid of being ostracised and hated by both Ravkans and Grishas. Stop being afraid that one day your "brothers and sisters" will stand against you. Stop being a changeling."

"Yeah… something like that." you reply bitterly, shifting your gaze back to the lake. The wind blows lightly across your face, blowing strands of hair from Genya's scruffy hairstyle.

You wrinkle your nose, trying to loosen the intricate bun with braids in it. Aleksander giggles as he sees you struggle with a complicated hairstyle.

"May I?" he asks, pointing to your hair.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You know how to… undo it?" you ask, surprised. He laughs genuinely and carelessly at your reaction, sitting down behind you. You blush slightly at the sound you've missed over the centuries.

"I have a younger sister." he says nonchalantly, starting to untangle your complicated hairstyle.

It's a good thing he's sitting behind you, or he'd have seen your mouth open in shock. Somehow, you couldn't imagine him as… a sibling.

"A sister?" you ask, too curious to let the subject go. He just croons in confirmation. Annoyingly, he untangles your tresses well. You barely feel his hand movements. "Will you tell me more about her?"

"She's almost as stubborn and irritating as you are." you snort, offended, feeling the first loose strands of hair fall down your back with relief. "Her name is Ulla."

Aleksander is not effusive. He wasn't like that even when you first met. That's why there's something… intimate about him sharing a piece of his past with you.

"So… Baghra had more of you?" you ask curious.

"Perhaps... but only I was... like her." A Shadow Summoner - you think. And deep down, you suspect that Baghra wasn't the one who looked after Ulla. Aleksander snaps you out of your thoughts as he strokes your already loose hair. "Done." he says and stands up.

"Thank you." you tell him. You stand up too and grab your shoes as you both walk off the pier.

"And you?" he asks, walking beside you. "Any siblings to tease?" you snort in amusement as you put on your shoes.

"No. My mother died… quite early and I never knew my father."

"You never wanted to meet him?" he asks curiously. You know why. He never knew his father either… you wonder if he ever wanted to meet him himself…

"No." you speak quickly, sure of your answer. "I had a grandmother. I didn't need anyone else."

"Had?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. You sigh, involuntarily playing with the bracelet on your wrist.

"She died." you speak calmly… in an empty tone learned over the years, betraying no emotion.

After so many centuries, Aleksander knew there was no point in saying I'm sorry. Not for you. He knew that the last thing you would expect in such a situation were words so empty or full of feigned regret, often repeated by people. He decided to go with a rather safer and definitely more meaningful question for the people in your situation.

"When?"

"Centuries ago." silence fell between the two of you, and realisation hit Aleksander. You were utterly alone. For so many centuries. You didn't have anyone standing by your side.

If Aleksander was sure you'd let him, he'd lock you in his embrace and not let you go until he's sure you know he'll always be there for you... that he's been your shelter whether you love, like, or hate him with all your heart. He would always be there for you.

You change the subject, trying to avoid his questions. Fortunately, he doesn't insist. For a moment, you're back to those kids who met hundreds of years ago. Only Aleksander and Y/N. No summoners of shadows or sun. And you can't help feeling how easy it is to get into that old routine with him.

However, everything changes when you are back on the palace grounds. You feel Grishas' heavy, hopeful, admiring eyes on you again. And you feel overwhelmed by your new role. You were not a saint. You were not a hero or a person who changed the world.

And by the soft smile on Aleksander's face, you're reminded that the man you were talking to so freely and openly just a moment ago wants it all. He wants you to stand by his side and change the world... not necessarily for the better for everyone.

"I guess I didn't get a chance to tell you sooner, but you look lovely, by the way." he says, looking at you. The black kefta suddenly weighs heavily on you more than before… and explains the soft whispers of some Grishas.

You roll your eyes. You suddenly remembered why you couldn't trust him. And you mentally chastised yourself for letting him manipulate you. You had to raise your walls again. "I know you too well and I'm too old to be seduced by you."

"I thought you were too smart for that?" he is teasing you, remembering what you said to him the first time you met. You look around to make sure that no one can hear your conversation.

"I was wise. Before I met the Black Heretic and let my guard down." it is obvious from the slight furrow of his brow in anger that he does not like the nickname. You make a mental note to call him that way more often when you're alone.

"There was a time when names didn't matter to us. Where all you cared about was the real me. Not the way others saw me." he says, and if you were still that naive girl, you'd think you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"You're right. At that time, I never imagined you would turn out to be..."

"I'm still the same man, Y/N..." he interrupts you with obvious hurt in his eyes. You both stop in front of the door of the Little Palace. Aleksander tries to read in your eyes where this sudden change of mood and coldness come from. "As you are the same wonan."

"No." you shake your head. "I'm not. And the boy I knew and loved died hundreds of years ago in the fold."

You see your words hurt him. And for a brief moment, he lets you see right through his eyes. He lets you see the pain and the tears that threatened to run down his cheeks.

But he doesn't let his emotions take over. You both live too long not to be able to hide them whenever you want... but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

"What a pity... If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

You watch his receding silhouette with a heavy heart, and you can't help but wonder… did you two really seem so different after all?

You shake your head. NO. You couldn't fall into the arms of a man who took everything you knew, your last shelter... and you didn't want to admit to yourself that you still had TWO known arms that could be your shelter... Unfortunately for you, they were wearing a black kefta, symbolising his shadows.

All you remember is a scream.

A loud, soul-piercing scream.

Actually, not one. Not short. Not temporary.

And with the screams came darkness. A darkness that made people lose sight of their loved ones. It didn't matter if it was Grisha or Otkazat'sya. Everyone died. One after the another.

No one knew from where, in a few seconds, shadows appeared instead of a clear sky and sun. All that could be seen in the shadow fold were only the fingers on your hands.

And after a while, they joined the shadows. Human-eating creatures. Volcra.

You were running ahead with a light orb in your hand. Beside you was your grandmother, shooing the creatures away.

You ran together, trying to find a way out of the vast sea of shadows that surrounded you. At some point, a scared group of people started running straight at you, trying to get as close to your light as possible and hide. You split up, trying to lose the crowd of people who might remember your faces. But you couldn't leave them alone. You created a great orb of light and left the people behind, making sure the orb would follow them.

As you offered to help others, you paid little attention to your surroundings. Volcra surrounded you, and one of them lunged at you from behind. You'd be dead... if your grandmother hadn't thrown herself in front of you. But before she could create a sufficient orb of light, the volcra struck her in the heart.

Your scream mingled with the screams of the people around you. Grandmother's blood mixed with the blood of others. You kneeled by her until the end… until she gave you her amplifier, and with the last of her strength, she used all her power to illuminate the area around you, killing the nearest volcras.

You were completely alone in the darkness of the fold. Tears dripped from your eyes onto your cheeks and bleed the earth beneath you, your screams of despair slowly becoming the only audible sound in the fold.

You were all alone.

You flinched as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, waiting for the volcra to attack as usual in this particular dream, but nothing came...

Nothing but a warm embrace and a familiar scent that you only associated with security and safety.

With tears in your eyes, you threw yourself into Aleksander's arms, crying into his chest. And you couldn't help but shiver as his hands stroked your back, pressing you tight against his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

"You're not alone." he whispered, holding you close to him. And for a brief moment, you wanted it all to be real...

Wandering around the Little Palace at night turned out to be something that did not bring you peace. Contrary. After overhearing a conversation between a pair of guard soldiers, you storm Aleksander's chambers, furious, frustrated, angry, and… disappointed.

You don't bother knocking or stopping at the soldiers guarding his chambers… you wonder for a moment why they even let you into his chambers late at night, but decide to think about it another time while you focus on the rage bubbling inside you.

You stormed into his war room and if it weren't for the late hour and the fact that you didn't want to wake anyone else but him, you would have slammed the door loudly behind you.

Then you see him. The object of all your negative feelings. The reason for all your anger and hurt… Grandmother was right, he should have been kicked in the ass and left to freeze to death in that lake while there was still a chance to get rid of him.

He stands before his war table, where there are maps, soldier figures, and something that looks like a fold. He drinks kvass. You send a little prayer to the saints, hoping that one day he'll choke on it.

"Aleksander." you say, warning him of your arrival before you unleash hell.

He looks at you with a slight shock that gives way to something like a sense of awe and adoration, as if he is trying to keep in his memory the way you look right now. You're suddenly very aware of your black and gold nightgown, which reveals more of your skin than he's ever seen. You could have changed into something else if you've already wanted to yell at him… or at least put on a bathrobe.

And with those puppy eyes he gives you, he almost melts your heart… almost.

"We need to talk." you say in a cool tone, trying not to give your emotions away.

"Of course. Come in. Do you want something to drink?" it annoys you. His calmness and composure when anger is burning inside you more than ever… and for some unknown reason you feel betrayed… as if you couldn't foresee that he is exactly like any man.

"No, I… You know. Give it." you say, taking a glass of kvass from him and drinking it all down. He raises an eyebrow in surprise but doesn't comment. Good for him. You decide to go straight to the heart of the matter. "Are all your female Grishas are whores for the royal family or just Genya?" you ask in an accusatory tone.

He widens his eyes, not expecting such a question. He takes the glass from you and puts it on the table. Then he turns his gaze back to you and speaks in that damn calm tone.

"Y/N... You don't understand..."

"YOU KNOW how much we suffered at the hand of the king, and yet you sent that poor girl there? And you told her to be his whore? IN THE NAME OF WHAT, Aleksander?!" you explode. Aleksander's head flies to the closed door.

Very good - you think. You want the bastard to worry about someone overhearing you... you're not sure you'll even tell him that you asked the soldiers (with all the politeness and composure you have left) to go check on the commotion in the gardens. By the time they realise there's nothing going on, you'll be done here long ago... or you'll have to hide their general's body. You don't know how it's going to end yet.

"Shh! Someone will hear." he tries to silence you and walks to the door, closing it.

"DO NOT SHUSH ME! I don't care what your plans are, but I am taking Genya out of there once and for good. And nobody can stop me."

"Y/N... please let's talk calmly." he says as he slowly walks over to you to stand in front of you.

"Do you want to talk calmly? Fine. I am calmly informing you that Genya is returning to the Little Palace and getting her own kefta. Not some white servant shit you made her wear."

"Genya's service is part of the great plan of things she willingly agreed to." Killing the king. You finish for him in your head, linking the king's increasingly deteriorating health to a mad heretic's grand plan.

You may have been different, but you knew each other's thoughts and ways of acting. It doesn't change that quickly over time… even if he has given himself more to his darkness and you more to your light. But hell will take you if you agree with his way of working…

"Because she had no other choice! You say you despise the king and everything his ancestors did to us, and that's what you are, doing exactly the same thing, if not worse, to your own people who are as loyal and faithful as dogs to you!"

You yelled furiously at him, and from the crease on his forehead and the hurt look in his eyes that turned to anger when you compared him to a king, you knew that there would be a war between the two of you today.

"You have no idea what's going on! You have no idea why I do what I do. You come here, accuse me of the worst, and make childish claims! Maybe you should finally wake up and see that, actually, I am the only one who does anything for our people, even if it means going to the worst!" you bit your lip in anger.

You both knew where to hit each other so that it hurt the most. You in his immoral, dubious ways of acting to win this eternal war for the good of the Grishas, and him in your passivity and hiding for centuries. But you're not giving this bastard the privilege of having the last word.

"And that's a very beautiful transition to the second topic, which is the fold and your plans to expand it. What is it? Another necessary evil? Do you know how many lives it has taken? Not just Otkazat'syas."

He laughs bitterly and licks his lips as you return to your most divisive topic. "Your obsession with the fold is naive."

You growl angrier at him. Only he was able to drive you crazy with one look, comment, or mocking smile. Good for him that you had similar power over him... otherwise, you would probably have tried to scratch his eyes out long ago.

"The fold took everything from me! From us all!"

"You think I don't know that? That I'm not reminded of it at my every single step?! That I forgot that I created it?! NO Y/N! I remember it perfectly! I remember the king's men chasing us and wanting to kill us like dogs, I remember the Fjerdans and Shu kidnapping and killing them either out of hatred or experimenting on us, I remember all of that, Y/N! You weren't there! You don't know why it happened, why I had to do what I did."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know why, but I was there when the shadows started to cover the ground, when the innocent people living in the territory of the emerging fold started turning into volcra because a certain shadow summoner decided to play a saint!"

He seems taken aback by your words, but he quickly puts his mask on his face. He turns his back on you and walks over to the war table, staring at the map, speaking in a calm, emotionless voice this time.

"You should leave now."

"We didn't finish..." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. With every word he says, the frustration and anger in his voice get clearer. The room is darkened by his shadows.

"The disclosure of your existence has brought our enemies ever closer to the border. An uprising is brewing in the west, led by a general of the First Army. Our own people in Ravka are against us. Our resources are dwindling, the noose is tightening, and our own people are turning against Grisha just like the king once did. The last thing I need right now is to argue with you. So leave. And let me continue fighting this war alone."

You don't know why you're doing it or what drives you, but you walk over to him and grab his hand. You both don't control the power flowing within you, so when your skin touches his, you feel him amplify your powers. You create a bubble of pure white light around you that dispels his shadows.

It's like at the throne room again. The two of you are staring at each other as your white light surrounds you. Only this time, Aleksander doesn't look at you like a capture or booty; there's not a single trace of pride or annoyance on his face, as you feared.

No...

He looks at you as the last light in the darkness of his soul. A reminder that he is not alone and that as long as you are by his side, his shadows will never consume him like in his worst nightmares. You were here. Next to him. Holding his hand in yours and shining like the last star in his dark sky devoid of hope.

For a moment, he was transported back to those times when, hundreds of years ago, you were both there for each other, alleviating all insecurities, sorrows, and dilemmas without even knowing each other's names. Just being there for another similar lost and lonely soul... not much has changed in those few centuries.

You'd tell him you missed him but you don't know how...

And he was dying to know if this aloofness and mistrust were killing you as much as they were killing him.

You let go of his hand. The light around you slowly faded away, leaving the two of you in darkness as you stared enchanted at each other.

"What are you doing?" he asks in a whisper, never taking his eyes off yours. The anger is gone from both you and him. You just stare at each other, both of you unable to take your eyes off the other.

You did not know what you were doing. Really. Aleksander had a tendency to make you do inexplicable things…

He knew you were as lost as him. So many centuries on earth, and none of you have yet learned… how to live. Hundreds of years and you still felt like lost children in the mist, trying to control everything around you, pretending to others that you were in control or knew perfectly what you were doing.

That's why he didn't question your lack of response. Or that you stayed in the dark, staring through each other for a moment longer. Both of you feel that for the first time in hundreds of long years, you are facing someone who is facing similar demons.

One thing was sure.

You have never heard silence speaking about dormant feelings quite this loudly.

"You're not alone." you repeat his words from your dream, involuntarily wondering for a moment if you still haunt him in his dreams as well. The look of his dark brown eyes, focusing only on you, is too overwhelming for you to take it much longer. You look away for a moment, then take your gaze back at him, giving him a small smile. "Someone has to undermine those perfect plans of yours from time to time. We don't want your ego to grow so big that it can't be contained in this palace, do we, General?" you ask jokingly and smile as you hear something like an amused snort from him.

He leans towards you and you gasp in surprise. Gently, he brushes the hair behind your ear with his fingertips. You shiver slightly at the small, almost non-existent touch of his skin against yours.

"No… we don't want to." he whispers, staring at you for a few more moments before pulling away and introducing you to the situation.

Darkness surrounds the two of you as you both talk. The only source of light is your little orbs floating above the war table. And for the first time, both of you feel at peace.

Neither of you were alone anymore.

And you both feel in this moment some kind of peace and relief...

At least until a messenger came running in the very dawn with a letter from the colonel of the Second Army…

The Fjerdans attacked.

[yournewlodger]

I think the self-built criminal empire "drag yourself up by the bootstraps" ification of Oswald Cobblepot is indicative of a larger problem with Batman that refuses to address that hey, maybe billionaire politicians who hoard all the wealth with a refusal to relate to or in any way help the less fortunate, are bad maybe. Like of course the Penguin is a self-made criminal immigrant mob boss, because these days you can only be a Batman villain if you are 1.) Mentally Ill or 2.) An Immigrant. And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with characters being immigrants. Before you say "how dare you piss on the poor" please understand I'm talking about intent when you see these characters always presented as villains.

And I'm all for reimagining characters for the modern lens, and I fully understand the inherent problematic nature of a character like The Penguin, and maybe I will be Bobo the Fool when The Penguin (the show) comes out, but I think reframing the Penguin as something out of The Godfather severely misses the point. Not only because never more have I wanted superhero media to critique billionaire criminal politicians running for public office (historically, the Penguin's whole bit), but because we don't need the Penguin to be something out of The Godfather. We have someone for that already. And clearly they know that. Because his name is Carmine Falcone.

I think that this notion that the only crime in Gotham City has to be drugs, prostitution, human trafficking, and domestic terrorism severely misunderstands the inherent whimsical nature of superheroes, and historically the Penguin. I mean we are circlejerking into infinity a self-hatred in superhero media. His name isn't even Oswald Cobblepot anymore. When's the last time the Penguin had an umbrella?

And here's the thing. I like Gotham (2014 - 2019). I do. But that universe at least understood that the Penguin is aesthetically ridiculous. Try as they may to present him as a threat, but he will always be a guy who calls himself Penguin.

I do think this problem started with Batman Returns. I'm not here explicitly to critique that version of the Penguin, but I do think it's where we began to lose the plot. Because once again the Penguin is presented as an underdog, a minority, an outcast. And again I ask you to think about intent when the Penguin is a villain and Batman is not. But that movie had Max Shreck to balance it out. What do we have now?

They are so, so allergic to presenting the rich as villains, because they'd be calling themselves out. Because calling the Penguin what he is, a cartoonish portrayal of a wealthy Gilded Age capitalist who preys on the less fortunate to further and further elevate his own wealth, doesn't align with their messaging, which is "billionaires are so awesome, and more importantly, infallible." The Penguin is meant to be an antithesis to Bruce Wayne, who is also generationally wealthy, but most importantly a philanthropist. Bruce Wayne is supposed to be someone who dedicates all he has to making Gotham City a better place, which also includes helping reform Gotham’s villains. But these days we see a man who more and more seems less like a hero, and more like a Penguin. Because if Bruce Wayne cared about Gotham City, really cared, beating every one of his villains to a pulp, just shy of his "no kill" quota, would be less of his focus. I mean how does a man with near unlimited resources allow institutions like Arkham Asylum to exist, let alone send his bad guys there?

And yeah, I know. The answer is the Batman mythos has turned it into The Good Place. His world is too complicated to do any real good. And yes, I know, it mirrors our world too. But why is it that the people who are pointing out that corruption, these We Live In A Society types, the villains? Why are they always the one presented as "insane" for pointing out what's right in front of them? And when's the last time Bruce Wayne did charity work, anyway? Tell me, who are we supposed to be rooting for in the end?

Anyway, the summary is this: The Penguin isn't a Capitalist anymore. The Penguin isn't even a Cobblepot anymore. Who is he? Because he isn't the Fine Feathered Fink I know. And we all know why. And personally, I'm sick of it.