#I mean no harm or offence
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Old school fanvid time!
Bojere: If I were
music: Stephen Lynch - Gay
Another time another scene I'd be right behind you, if you know what I mean
Edit. testing this tumblr hack (post a photo to make your video show up in the tags)
photo: @vita_orehek_photography
#kÀÀrijan#bojere#bojan cvjetiÄanin#kÀÀrijĂ€#fanvid#my hand slipped#I'm afraid to post because new content can drop any time#also this is just for funsies#I mean no harm or offence#is this a good time to confess that I was the original âtop 5 things that made you think he's not straightâ anon?#I told you it was FOR SCIENCE#I also loved how it took off#good work everyone đ
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WAIT-it's actually Lee-ra and not Lie-ra?uh-oh internet connection lost l cannot see or hear anything... system malfunctioning error error
#hence it's lie-ra to me#no offense but lee-ra sounds wrong#it doesn't exclude that elegance of lie-ra#plus lee-ra sounds like the kind of name a little worm would have(sorry to all leeras i don't mean any harm or offence)#not me talking abt the vibe and aura of a goddam name lmaoo#but still..YK?*does weird gestures while questioning life choices#lyra kane#lyra catalina kane#grayson hawthorne#grayson x lyra#lyrason#lyra x grayson#jameson hawthorne#avery kylie grambs#avery grambs#nash hawthorne#libby grambs#xander hawthorne#maxine liu#emily laughlin#eve laughlin#rohan tig#the inheritance games#the grandest games#jlb
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âIn this essay I willâŠ.â
Original post
#this is like 60% of why I ride so hard for Nashuri to happen#he just looks so good with melanin on his arm I mean do you see him with Letitia?? with lupita?? yalitza?? queens#Tenoch Huerta#Nashuri#namor#agua papi#bpwf#shuri#wakanda forever#I love how I keep seeing a lot of people say that they had a đïžđđïž moment going back and looking at his filmography post bpwf#Iâm glad Iâm not alone#what needs to happen for us to get a movie with Tenoch in a romantic relationship with a baddie with some seasoning đ„Ž#no offence to my melanin challenged girlies I mean no harm fr a girl just needs some scenery change IM TIRED
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Please grandme give us your misandry take
hello dear one! thank you very much for your question. i so love to delve into discussions such as these!
i am wary that people may offended by this take so i will try and explain as clearly as possible. if you take any offence to my reasoning, please feel free to reach out. i am always happy to engage in polite and open minded and hearted discussion! i always come from a place of trying to learn, listen and educate.
misandry is not real in the sense that it has no material consequences in the way that misogyny does. what i mean by this is that women are still systemically discriminated against in a way that has consequences we can see â they have higher rates of assault, lower pay, fewer opportunities, face general harassment and oppression, have higher rates of eating disorders and body dysmorphia due to unattainable beauty standards and have historically been oppressed in a way that has very real effects that men have not experienced.
men certainly have challenges unique to their gender, however, these do not have structural impacts to the same extent that misogyny does. here is what i mean by this â misandry is defined as any kind of dislike or prejudice against men. if this occurs, it does not broadly nor historically have the same impacts and consequences built into our very systems that misogyny does.
when we take steps to address misogyny, it is in response to structural sexism and in order to seek equity. it is not an act of misandry that disproportionately effects men. more rights for women do not mean fewer rights for anyone else (just as more rights for trans people do not impact the rights of cis people â important and partially related side note!)
when people discriminate against or oppress transgender men, it is not because they are men. therefore, people are not acting out of misandry when they do this. they are discriminating and oppressing based on the fact that the individual is trans, not that they are a man. it is therefore an act of transphobia. we must be careful to use words correctly as they carry great meaning.
based on this, i tend to conclude that misandry can be real on an individual basis. there are certainly people who have dislike or contempt for men, mostly out of retaliation or in response to the patriarchy. but misandry as a structural phenomena does not exist. it is not built into our systems. we live in a society that ultimately benefits cis white heterosexual and able bodied men first and foremost. intersectional feminism is about readdressing this.
#i hope no one takes offence to this!#i have tried to be as clear as possible and mean no harm#misandry#misogyny#feminism#lgbtq#lgbt#gay#lesbian#lgbtqai#queer#sapphic#transgender#wlw#ask
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This feels like itâll be added to Gotham.
Because itâs friendly to bats and it also looks like itâs straight out of a fucking horror movie.
perhaps some will disagree, but i think the world got worse when we changed the colour of the night
#just imagine#joker pushing for these things to be a thing#also red lights are a bitch to walk under#bats arenât harmed by it sure#but itâs also something that our eyes donât pick up all that well#in comparison to yellow or white#the entire purpose of a streetlight is to illuminate the area properly#red + violet are pretty colours but weâre also the least sensitive to them#I mean no offence#just saw the pics and imagined dying under those lights#would be an amazing aesthetic
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Tagging @fierceawakening because it's thoughts regarding mostly the prison abolition argument I've been reading on your page, but not about any specific thread that feels reasonable to reply to.
So personally, I don't really think about this too much because in practice I'd much rather focus on specific achievable harm reductions I can currently fight for, however, I have another complication with prison abolition.
I agree that involuntary confinement is problematic, but I've also seen it work? Like my grandfather went to prison, and he says it saved his life and I believe him. I don't think he should've gone to prison in a just system, what he was convicted on was absurd and not reasonable evidence, and it was a non-violent drug crime, which pretty much everyone in the reform to abolition spectrum agree is bad.
At the same time, my grandfather is likely an undiagnosed autistic man, who struggled intensely with adulthood and prison gave him a structured space to learn how to manage himself.
He was lucky enough to be imprisoned in a place where he was given access to education and life skills, similar to what my dad got when his parents paid for a private rehab facility, which was also a form of involuntary confinement. Both of these men in my life returned from these experiences far better able to handle themselves in the world, they both learned important life skills for caring for themselves, and improved their ability to function in employment.
I don't think prisons currently look like this, I know they don't, and I'm pro-reform because of this. I also think that if a fair system were in place it's likely my grandfather should not have been involuntarily commited. (My father had proved a danger to me so he would be comitted in systems advocated by people more on the reform end of the spectrum.) However, it's hard for me to reconcile the idea that all involuntary confinement is inherently bad and that it's only going to make the individuals life worse no matter what. Because the two people in my life who were involuntarily commited (though both very lucky in what services were offered to them in these institutions) both improved their lives significantly because of it.
#I see a lot of people saying non-abolitionists don't have personal experience with the justice system#so I guess part of this is to say#some of us do#Some of us do have family members who were convicted of non-violent drug offences on a wire tap that has a phrase#that is something he regularly says to this day because it's a normal part of his dialect#but as an immigrant it was misconstrued to be proof of involvement#I mean personally I'm very pro making the justice system fully focused on harm reduction#and completely dissolving the connection between the crime comited and the legnth of confinement#and instead having it based soley on risk to society#But in the short term what I'm focusing on is ensuring felons retain the right to vote#that they have access to education and life skills and medical care especially mental health care while in prison#That crimes that do not pose risk to others like drug use or consenual prostitution are no longer crimes#that methods that do have proof of being only bad like solitary confinement or nutriloaf be stopped#I think it should be a last resort to involuntarily commit someone#but there's a difference between that and it being never helpful if that makes sense#This might not be the best phrased thoughts#they've been sitting in my head a while and I don't think I can say them better even if this way isn't fully what I'm intending
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Today I (1) had a task that I had promised to do, (2) realised that I did not have some information necessary to complete the task, (3) had the option of either asking someone for the information in person or delaying the task until I could write an email asking about it, (4) did neither of those because I am very averse to initiating communication with other people, especially to ask for help, and (5) stayed awake for hours instead of going to sleep, because I felt strongly that I should take action re the task first.
... I would not recommend this approach.
#complaining instead of doing my work#cheers to my manager who often says 'I wouldn't recommend doing [action]' to mean 'it is illegal and/or a fireable offence to do [action]'#what I am doing is not illegal or particularly harmful; however it's a bad idea in a way that was very obvious in advance#which does not even now prevent me from continuing to do it#edit: love when my standard for completing a task dramatically decreases as I continually delay it#am now just hoping to send this email without sounding completely rude or incoherent and to sleep for a nonzero amount of time before work#edit (2): I wrote the email. I am afraid that it will somehow sound overly apologetic and overly entitled at the same time#but I am too sleep-deprived to think of anything better#23 days until I move again and no longer have to deal with this...
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The way your fellow men do or don't perceive you is an all-male issue. Setting aside the fact that the vast majority of female victims of SA indicate they'd rather receive counselling in a female-only space, there is zero evidence that trans-identified men present less of a threat to women and girls than the non-trans-identified variety. In fact, there are proportionately more trans-identified men in jail in the UK currently for sexual offences than among the general male prison population.
That statistic doesn't mean I think you personally are a predator. What it does prove is that there are at least as many predators among trans-identified men as among men who don't identify as trans.
If you and fellow trans-identified men want a space where no other men go, you're free to create one. Nobody wants you raped. Nobody wants you killed or harmed in any way. But women's spaces are for women. Your inability to grasp that you aren't entitled to those spaces because you don't 'identify' as a man is not female rape survivors' problem. Seeking to breach vulnerable women's boundaries does not mark you out as one of us. On the contrary, your arguments are typical of a certain kind of male: one who thinks the satisfaction of his own needs and desires is far more important than the harm he may be causing to women.
#'It is absolutely about me' victimizing himself because JKR opened ONE space for women only...she is so eloquent and patient and they will#never get it#jk rowling#j.k. rowling#jkr#pro jkr#beira's place#twitter
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My day today just wasn't... I woke up just feeling like it was going to be "one of those days", and my mood just soured a little after that post.
Like I wanted to post one of those long posts I usually do about anything (maybe I can work on that Miruko and Shiina post, it's not gonna be posted today I'll tell you that), but after deleting that other post, I just didn't want to anymore.
I said it before, I do try to make my voice CLEAR at what I'm talking about, but now it's just like "well, just delete it and call it a day" because I just don't have the energy for it.
#even if the person means no harm i just delete the main post#meant no offence i didn't#again I was thinking more on the unrealistic aspects of BNHA#i apparently wasn't clear enough so that's on me#just kiya's thoughts
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,,i love spencer so so muchâ
And then why are you writing him as allistic when he is canon autistic?
smells like projecting and ableism to me
đšPSA to Fellow Writers and Readersđš
So this lovely anon decided to drop by and accuse me of ableism for not writing Spencer Reid as âcanonically autistic.â Because apparently, they have the authority to police howânot just me, but @aliteralsemicolon who also had the pleasure of dealing with thisâportray a fictional character.
In case anyone needs a reminder, Spencer isnât explicitly labeled autistic in the show. That means thereâs room for multiple interpretations of his character. You want to write him as autistic? Go for it. But the moment you decide to hide behind anonymity to attack other writers for not meeting your standards? That's when you cross the line. It's disrespectful. Because hereâs the thingâfanfiction is supposed to be a creative, open space where we can explore characters in any number of ways, including sex.
And since weâre on the topic, I genuinely want to understand, does the suggestion of him having kinks conflict with an autistic headcanon? From what I know (and Iâm open to being corrected), autistic people are just as capable of having kinks and varied sexual interests as anyone else. I think making such assumptions about an entire group of people does more harm than good and erases the spectrum of experiences that real autistic individuals have.
Does that not sound like ableism?
With that being said, let me remind this to all writers: write what you want, how you want. No interpretation is more âcorrectâ than another, and you are not obligated to cater to anyoneâs guidelines. If you come across an anonymous comment like the one above or like these:
or the one @aliteralsemicolon received:
where they start out respectful ("Not to be rude", "no offence", etc) and, it seems whether you ignore or answer, they will continue sending asks that get more offensive and hatefulâŠ
Do yourself a favor. Block. Delete.
And to all the anon critics out there, if you donât like what someone writes, hereâs a simple solutionâwrite your own fic. Or donât. Just donât harass other writers because their vision doesnât align with yours.
âšBe the change you want to seeâš
#writing community#fanfiction#writing#fanfiction writer#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#tumblr comments#lou answers#kinktober
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Humans evolved to be friend!!!
Probably stupid but hear me out:
âą We try to pet/make friend with everything
âą several different species are documented to have raised abandoned/lost humans (famously wolves, but monkeys, parrots, cats and more have raised humans)
âą animals that can harm/kill us typically leave us alone (cougars donât tend to attack unless thereâs kittens around, black bears are small but they can 100% kill you if they wanted but they just kinda go away, orcas are smart enough and big enough to hunt us if they wanted to but thereâs 0 wild cases of death by orca)
âą there are species that are so chill with humans they literally domesticated themselves
âą humans get an oxytocin boost when we see cute things, we want to be friend!!!! (Cute is subjective, some people see bugs as creepy some see bugs as friend, thereâs always someone who sees something as friend!!)
âą we donât have the best natural defence or offence meaning we ride a lot on âyou donât bother me I donât bother youâ cause idk about you but I got nothing if a horse decides itâs my time to go (yeah we can build armor and weapons but we have to actively make and use them, we donât come ready made with a suit of metal armor)
In conclusion, Iâm very convinced that if we find sentient alien life either theyâd find us non threatening at worst, actively adorable and cuddly at best
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I just imagine the ANGER that reader has when dipper & mabel becomes distraction
The twins are arguing with each other and reader just calmly said "what if just volunteer myself with the memory gun i mean i also know the equation" then they said something hurtful calmly that make the twins realize how their action put a nail into the coffin of their niece & nephew
When they got back and want to make a deal with bill but he didn't believe them but then reader said "you can't possibly got in his head with that metal plate of his" (they say something like that) bill wasn't angry but more like entertaint and make a deal with them, reader just wants no harm comes to the kids and town people's after they give him the equation and when asked abt the stan twins they just don't care
You didnât care what happened to yourself, you really didnât but what you werenât about to do was let Mabel answer dipper become distractions.
You refused. So while Stan and Ford were bickering, again, you whistled sharply, which got the two older men to stop their argument to look over at you.
âHow about instead of using your own flesh and blood and possibly getting them killed due to your negligence and let me to make the deal with bill instead, youâre not the only one who knows the equation Ford so you can drop the hero complex.â You snapped and it silenced the entire Pines Family when they realised you were right.
âAre you sure about-â
âI am very certain Stanford.â You cut Ford off and his face was full of hurt but begrudging acceptance, he knew that once your mind was made up nothing else mattered.
âHey letâs at least-â
âI donât care about what the next words to leave your mouth are Stanley!â You hissed, making him take a step back. âWhat Iâm not about to do is put those two kids in danger like you two, itâs almost like you forget they are kids at the end of the day with parents waiting for them back home.â You reminded the pair as they looked at Dipper and Mabel who were gripping onto you tightly, pleading with you to not make the deal with Bill.
Ford sighed. âFine, if this is what you want to do.â He trails off.
âIt is.â You said with a newfound strength. âSince It seems like Iâm the only one who gives a fuck about Gravity Falls and the people in it.â You added but left Ford and Stan with the twins before they had the urge to further push you on that statement.
When you finally confront Bill, who was obviously waiting for Stanford, you could see him visibly deflate and couldnât help but scoff. âOh come on Bill Iâm not that bad.â
Bill chuckles. âSure you might not be but no offence, I was expecting fordsy, not his assistant- or should I say former assistant.â Your jaw clenched, bill sure knew how to put salt in the wound but still you pressed on, for dipper and Mabel and the weird but lovable townsfolk of Gravity Falls; your true family.
âSorry to disappoint but with that metal plate in his head, thereâs no chance you wouldâve made it even close to the equation.â You fake winced as you saw the annoyance flicker in Billâs one eye. âSorry but Iâm the closest to the next best thing for you.â You add with a shrug, fully accepting what was going to happen to you as you didnât have any one of worth to mourn you nor your memories.
âUgh if I have to since option one was unavailable,â Bill drawled as he held out his hand, not bothering to look at you, âis there any boring thing you want to say now in your final act of heroism fleshbag?â He asks.
âFor you to leave dipper, Mabel and the citizens of Gravity Falls alone, theyâve been through enough as it is.â You tell him, watching as the blue flames flicker and lick at his hand. Bill blinked at you, having where this stereotypical speech one too many times in his long, long, long life, âanything else, or rather anyone else?â
You knew who he was suggesting but all you said in regards to Stan and Ford was; âkill them, torture them, make them into your personally puppets whatever, I honestly donât care.â
Billâs eye widened. âOh now this is interesting! Youâre becoming interesting to me now fleshbag! I havenât heard such venom towards another fellow fleshbag in so long! Deal!â He exclaims as he grabs your hand, cementing the finality of your deal, how naive the dream demon was to not see the trap he had walked into by doing so.
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Yelena taking care of her autistic gf who has gone into sensory overload because of Natasha yelling at her because she accidentally ate the last jar of peanut butter?
Tough Day
Pairing:Â Yelena Belova x Autistic! ReaderÂ
Summary:Â Natasha takes her bad day out on you over something small, but Yelena is there to comfort and remind you things are okay.
Angst, Comfort, Fluff.
Warnings: None? If any, please let me know! | 0.8K
Translations:Â Detka (baby), dorogoy (sweetheart),Â
AC:Â Please note that I am not autistic, nor do I get sensory overload. I write this based off research. If I have written anything that is wrong or offence, please let me know as I do not mean any harm. I also want to thank everybody who helped me with this! You know who you are xx
The room was dark, curtains closed, lights off and you were sat on the floor in your most comfortable clothing trying your best to take deep breaths. You never knew Natasha would get so mad over something so small. After using the last bit of peanut butter for your sandwich, Natasha grunted and took her frustrations out on you. How were you supposed to know it was the last jar? How were you supposed to know that Natasha didn't have a backup jar? She always did.
"Seriously?! The one thing I wanted today, and you had to use the last of it?!" Her words replayed over and over in your head. The raise in her voice sent you into sensory overload, she didn't notice, she just kept dropping comments about her frustrations even stating how you rarely ever go grocery shopping and just expect everybody else to get the things you need. You apologized for your mistake and explained that you didn't realize that it was the last of the peanut butter to which she replied, "of course you didn't you just live in your own little world!"Â
Yelena knocked on the bedroom room lightly, careful not to startle you. She'd been worried about you after Natasha stormed back into the gym mumbling something about peanut butter, her gut feeling told her to check on you.Â
"Detka? It's me, can I come in?" she asked. You nodded; she could barely see your nod in the darkness, but it didn't take long for her to notice the state you were in. She closed the door as quietly as she could behind her and walked over to sit down beside you. She didn't touch you, she didn't speak in her normal 'inside' voice, instead she whispered.Â
"Do you want some ice?" She asked in a whisper, knowing that sometimes in these moments you like to suck on some ice cubes to help remind you of the here and now. You nodded once again while continuing to keep your focus on your breathing. Yelena was gone for a few short minutes before she returned with a bottle of water and a small bowl of ice cubes. She placed them beside you and sat down on the armchair on the other side of the room and waited until you were able to talk to her.
The coldness of the ice on your tongue and the roof of your mouth helped bring some relief to the hotness you felt rushing through your body. You closed your eyes and counted to ten then back down over and over until you felt like you could get up from the floor. Yelena waited patiently, holding your favorite stuffie until she knew you would want it to cuddle with.Â
"Sh-she yelled at me" you spoke ever so softly as you slowly got up from the floor and looked at your girlfriend. "Over peanut butter" you added. Yelena saw the confusing yet sadness in your eyes, you couldn't quite understand why Natasha snapped and took her bad day out on you over the empty jar.Â
"I'm going to talk to her detka, she overstepped, and I won't let her do that again" Yelena replied as she stood from the armchair to hand you the stuffie. "What do you need right now? Forget about Natasha and the stupid peanut butter, I'll buy her a new jar, okay?" she added.Â
"I just wanna get into bed and watch movies" you replied.
"Do you want your weight blanket?" Yelena asked, she always worried about you whenever you went into sensory overload, in fact she worried about you a lot more than she led on. Always made sure you had everything you needed before she would go off on missions, she had Kate keep an eye on you and if you needed anything Kate would be there for you. Yelena tried not to go on the super long missions, sometimes she couldn't avoid it but she always checked in with you when she could.Â
"Yes please" you said as you got into the shared bed, grabbing the television remote from your bedside table. Yelena grabbed your weighted blanket from the wardrobe and placed it comfortably over you. "Thank you, Lena" you smiled softly at her, your tired eyes telling her just how exhausted you were.Â
"Get some rest detka, I'll go cook your favourite for dinner and bring it up to you when it's dinner time" Yelena replied before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Wait" you gently grabbed her arm, "can you stay? Please" you asked, looking up at her.Â
Yelena nodded, "of course dorogoy"
You snuggled up to Yelena the moment she got into bed beside you, her arm wrapped around you while you flicked through Netflix to find an easy and comforting movie to watch. Once you found one of your favorite comfort movies, you snuggled more into Yelena, whispering a soft 'thank you' for being there for you. She placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and held you a little extra tight while you fell asleep in her arms.
Taglist: @marvelfan98 | @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn |Â
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#yelenasdiary asks#anon#fanfiction#yelena belova#marvel#yelena belova x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader
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Do you think Siriusâs parents were ever physically abusive? I see a lot of different takes in the fandom, and sometimes it reads well, and sometimes it feels like tragedy-piling. In one hand, if they were not physically abusive, it makes Siriusâs break-off somewhat even more impressive - he had everything, but still couldnât stomach his parentâs political views and life of pretences. In another hand, maybe his parents would do anything to keep their wayward son in line. Whaddya think?
thank you very much for the ask, anon!
unsurprisingly, i've popped the answer to this below the cut, since it comes with a trigger warning for discussion of the emotional and physical abuse of a child.
to start with, the answer to this requires us to be specific about what we understand the term "physically abusive" to mean.
because - yes - i certainly think orion and walburga would have smacked [spanked, for american readers] sirius as a form of punishment.
indeed, i think this inarguable, since sirius was born in 1959.
in britain and ireland, as in many places worldwide, the social acceptability of physically punishing your children by smacking them is something which has shifted massively in the past twenty-or-so years.
[and with good reason! i'm definitely not about to start defending it!]
but the extent of this shift means it's easy to overlook just how normal it used to be. until really quite recently, smacking was considered a "good" way to instil discipline in children, poorly behaved children were considered to be suffering from a lack of physical discipline, and a parent smacking a child in public was unlikely to raise any eyebrows.
indeed, canon - the original editions of the books, at least - reflect the fact that this was a social norm in the nineties. the weasley children - for example - are noted to have been smacked on multiple occasions, and the text isn't treating this as evidence that molly and arthur are cruel or abusive, it's treating it as evidence that they're normal parents.
and so if - as is increasingly the modern norm - one regards any sort of physical discipline as abuse, then yes, i think orion and walburga were physically abusive towards sirius.
but the real question is do i think orion and walburga were abusive by the standards of their own time?
because - of course - smacking being socially acceptable historically doesn't mean that all uses of physical force against a child were. indeed, the reason that smacking is still legal in england and northern ireland [wales, scotland, and the republic of ireland have all got their acts together and banned it] is based in this - smacking was and is considered "reasonable chastisement". that is, it was and is considered to fall below a threshold which would transform it from punishment into abuse.
this threshold is based in intensity - smacking your children is legal if they're not left with marks, a smack which leaves bruises or which breaks the skin meets the threshold for common assault, and is a legal offence - in frequency - sustained or repeated force is more likely to leave injuries which meet the threshold for assault or other offences - in type - punching a child in the face is always assault, if not a greater charge such as actual bodily harm - and in the context of the act and the parent's broader behaviour surrounding it - a parent who smacks a child once as a knee-jerk response to a dangerous situation [the child trying to dash out into oncoming traffic, for example] and then collects themselves and speaks calmly to the child is going to be understood very differently from a parent who smacks a child for an unclear reason, who is ranting and raving, and who exclusively shouts at the child.
the problem with this threshold - which makes some physical punishments acceptable and others unacceptable - is that it's imprecise. children's experiences of being smacked are subjective - some might tolerate the occasional smacking with no adverse mental effects, but this is irrelevant, given that many others will not. outlawing it entirely is good because it removes this imprecision.
when it comes to sirius, then, we have to think about whether orion and walburga would have used physical force against him in a way that crossed whatever threshold existed in the norms of wizarding society between legitimate and unacceptable punishment.
and i think the answer to this is both yes and no.
because i think it's inarguable that sirius was subjected to physical punishments in contexts which were inappropriate.
his dynamic with his family, as he himself tells us, is a classic golden child versus scapegoat one. and so his parents undoubtedly smacked him in response to things he didn't do intentionally - for example, accidentally knocking over a glass and breaking it - or didn't do at all - for example, regulus breaking the glass and claiming it happened because sirius "distracted" him.
if we imagine that wizarding norms - like muggle ones - justify physical punishment when it's "reasonable", then it follows that this idea of reasonableness presupposes that the child is being punished for an intentional and undeniable act of forbidden behaviour. and, therefore, it follows that punishing a child who has not behaved in such a way is unreasonable, and therefore abusive.
connected to this, it's also plausible that sirius was subjected to non-physical punishments - such as being grounded or having his possessions confiscated - in similarly inappropriate contexts. and this again changes the meaning of these punishments - temporarily grounding a child in response to them intentionally doing a specific thing which they know will result in them being grounded is acceptable; grounding them indefinitely and arbitrarily is not.
it's also inarguable that sirius was subjected to non-physical punishments which were excessive within the context of wizarding norms. the way walburga's portrait speaks to him - which he tells us in order of the phoenix reflects the way she spoke to him when she was alive - is something harry finds utterly shocking. and - since we know that harry isn't shocked by shouting alone [molly shouts at her sons, for example, and harry doesn't consider this unacceptable] we can suppose that walburga's language, tone, and level of vitriol is so extreme as to have crossed the threshold between reasonable and unreasonable behaviour, and is, therefore, abusive. while we don't know how orion spoke to him, we have no reason to believe it wasn't similar.
but i don't think that sirius was subjected to physical punishments which were excessive in terms of their violence - rather than inappropriate in terms of their context.
and this is because he's clear that what he hated the most about living with his family was that they didn't deviate from social norms. he hated the mainstream political views they held, he hated that they considered themselves "practically royal" despite not being impressive or special at all, and he hated that regulus became the golden child for adhering to convention and he became the scapegoat for rejecting it.
if he understood himself as someone who had been physically abused, the thing he would hate about his family would be their deviance. he would abhor the fact that they'd transgressed the social norms which governed what was or wasn't "reasonable" in terms of physical punishment and - in doing so - had transgressed the relationship parents are supposed to have with their children.
and i think he would be able to acknowledge this - it's not just something he doesn't bring up in canon because he's not psychologically ready - not only because he has the experience of how james' parents treated both him and their own son to contrast against his parents' behaviour, but because he's able to recognise - without feeling ashamed of or like he was at fault for it, which is very impressive - that he is someone who was emotionally abused.
and this emotional abuse is bad enough.
there is - as you say - something which can get a bit torture-porny about the way sirius' early life is often written as a cycle of unrelenting physical abuse. and the reason this feels so unnecessary is because the experience he describes on the canon page is sufficiently horrible without anything else being added to it. i don't think we need to debate whether him breaking with his family is more impressive if they weren't physically abusive than it would be if they were - or vice versa. there's no hierarchy. abuse is abuse.
it wouldn't matter if orion and walburga had never laid a hand on him. given what we know of their emotional treatment of him, sirius is an abused child. and leaving an abusive situation - regardless of the exact form the abuse takes - is impressive without qualification.
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It's a missed opportunity that despite Roy Harper and Jason Todd hanging out now there's been never any tension between about them or exploration of their differing approaches and perspectives on the drug crisis. Particularly because for both of them it is deeply personal.
Roy Harper.
Roy became addicted to drugs in the 1971 comic Snowbirds Don't Fly which was Neil Adamâs and Dennis O'neill's attempt to tackle the "youth's greatest problem!" drug use and addiction. I feel like all most people know is that Speedy took drugs and Ollie took it badly, but that honestly ignores the whole point of the story. The story challenged contextual stigma around addiction and drug use as a personal failing or something that only happened to weak people. It explored how it could happen to anyone, even a hero like Speedy. It focused on the social factors such as racism and poverty and how they push people into substance abuse as a way to cope. It even turns the trope of the evil foreign drug cartel on its head by making the guy behind the drug supply a wealthy white American man in who runs a Pharmaceutical company, doesn't do drugs, and actively mocks the people he profits off the suffering of.
The point therefore is twofold. Firstly, drug users are people just like you and me and it is vital to be compassionate to people struggling with addiction. Ollie who yells at and hits Roy and leaves him due to anger and fear is clearly in the wrong. Hal and Dinah who look after Roy and stand beside him at his friend's funeral and as he confronts Ollie are clearly in the right. Secondly, the solution is not to focus on the drugs but instead to deal with the systemic problems of inequality, oppression, trauma and disenfranchised youth.
Despite parts of it ageing bad (the use of slurs was to demonstrate the damage of racism, but I feel uncomfortable having slurs uncensored in a comic book written by white authors) it is a surprisingly progressive take on addiction for a mainstream 70s DC comic. It also clearly demonstrates Roy's opinion on the drug problem and how to deal with it. He sees anger and going after dealers/manufacturers (like Ollie did) to not be enough. Instead the real change comes from helping the people in that situation by improving their lives and compassionately helping them at their worst.
Enter Jason Todd.
For context Jason Todd has had almost his entire life shaped by trauma of substance abuse. His (adoptive) mother Catherine struggled with addiction and overdosed just months before he met Batman, effectively orphaning him. Soon after he was found by Batman who essentially drafted him into his crusade on crime, not considering that being a vigilante may be potentially damaging for an already traumatised child.
But when he came back in UTRH he decided he could best help Gotham if he killed (largely non-costumed) criminals and controlled the city's criminal underworld himself. After violently assuming control of the drug trade, Jason imposed his own rules for dealers, most famously that he would kill anyone who sold drugs to children or near schools. Later while incarcerated Jason Todd killed 82 Blackgate inmates (and harmed over a hundred) by poisoning the prison food. This mass murder was intrinsically indiscriminate and due to the US prison system it is reasonable to assume people charged with drug offences were included in the death count.
Jason does have deep childhood trauma associated with addiction and drug use and wants to help prevent suffering. That being said, his approach treats drugs as a criminal problem to be eradicated or controlled, not just a symptom of deeper social issues. He kills people who sell drugs to kids, rather than helping building a support system so kids aren't pushed into abusing substances to cope and people don't have to deal to survive.
What does this mean?
Scott Lobdell got details of Roy's addiction wrong and distorted him into a reckless idiot who has been ostracised from the community. But if it was done right their interaction and opposing perspectives/experiences could be really interesting. Both hate drugs and the drug trade, but the way they conceptualise this hatred differs significantly.
Roy focuses on helping the individual and addressing deeper social problems, seeing drugs as a devastating but ultimately symptomatic. Jason sees drug use as first and foremost a criminal issue, with true benefits being achieved through controlling the criminal underworld.
Roy's priority is therefore supporting people struggling with addiction and showing compassion for their situation. Jason doesn't really focus on ways to help the individuals suffering from addiction, as much as mitigating the overall harm and fitting the drug trade into parameters he views as acceptable.
I think it would add needed complexity to their relationship (and to Jason's redemption if we're going that route) as well as dealing with the more 'war-on-drug' elements of UTRH. Also it would help Roy stand on his own as a strong, articulate leader with a dark past rather than being (at least for a while) reduced to essentially Jason's sidekick.
#Jason todd#roy harper#utrh#Oliver queen#green arrow#arrowfamily#speedy#red hood#dc comics#red arrow#bruce wayne#arsenal#dinah lance#hal jordan#dc#hard travelling heroes#anti rhato#Jason todd critical#(not really but it is critical of some of his behaviours as red hood so I wanted to be safe)#batman#I left Adams out of the original post somehow but Iâve fixed it now
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How does it look? Ah, itâs an improvement
Pairing: König x Reader
Summary: Youâre determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall heâs just some guy thatâs taller than most people right? Heâs probably harmless! Well, heâs a little scary, but you still like him anyway.
(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)
AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life đ
Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here
-â ïž-
In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a âcovertâ date, youâd tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, heâd said theyâd been on him like bloodhounds.
Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldnât tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, theyâd made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what theyâd do next.
Luckily for your frayed nerves and Königâs safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, theyâd stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the âschool girl treatmentâ. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldnât wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasnât particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didnât need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore.Â
If you were being honest, you couldnât help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. Thatâs what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didnât mean you didnât still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path.Â
âDidnât anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?â
âOh shut the fuck up!â
You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. Heâd momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who heâd only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small âoofâ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. Heâd been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk.Â
âLooks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!â Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.
âNo! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,â Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. âThe only reason you won was because that little dick couldnât keep their mouth shut.â
Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep.Â
âMe?â
âYes you! Love of your lifeâs not in your chain of commandâ,â he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. âFuck off!â
âI donât sound like that,â you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. âDonât be a sore loser Soap.â
Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas.Â
Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle heâd abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghostâs breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadnât been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, heâd earned his nickname just as much as youâd merited yours.Â
âI almost had the bastard this time!â Soap huffed, slumping. âIf it hadnât aâ been for you.â
âWell, if it makes you feel better Iâll pay for it,â you offered, rising to your feet. âGiven you both go get a shower, you guys fuckinâ stink.â
Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if heâd been given a jumpstart. You didnât care for it.Â
âReally? I donât think I smell too bad,â Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. âCâmere, let me make you really pay for it!â
âWait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!âÂ
You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall.Â
âItâs just like you said Sneaky, canât fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!â He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you.Â
âIâm sure GazâŠis around here somewhere,â you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.
Despite Mactavishâs best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when heâd successfully grab your arm, youâd break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip.Â
You were so close to the exit now. Youâd danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway shouldâve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who youâd bumped into.Â
âCareful Sergeant,â König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. âI see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.â
You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry heâd acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite.Â
âYou wanna test how good our training is, König?â Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.
You rolled your eyes.
âNo thank you, Iâm afraid Iâd get terribly bored.â
âFunny,â Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. âMaybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts donât linger too long again.â
You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in Königâs mask, you knew he hadnât been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didnât miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as youâd missed him.Â
âApologies,â heâd said, not able to resist whispering after, âlucky for him he doesnât know where these âmittsâ were last weekend.â
You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry.Â
âWhy are you here, König?â you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.
Even under the darkness of his full hood, Königâs eyes sparkled with mischief and you didnât miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the âstop fucking with meâ look. He was going to hear about that later.Â
âCuriously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.â
Everyoneâs breaths were collectively stolen from the room.Â
âPrice? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?â Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.
You were too busy wondering if heâd figured something out.Â
âFunny isnât it?â König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. âHe was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think youâre being sent off on a mission.â
You didnât miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyoneâs guess how long youâd be away for. Last time heâd spirited away with Gaz heâd disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever youâd be doing, itâd likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend youâd likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely youâd get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant itâd be a whole weekâs wait until you got to meet with him again.Â
Fuck.
âOhâŠthanks for letting me know.â
âOf course. Canât ignore an order from the Captain.â
The âunfortunatelyâ didnât have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing youâd be missing him like hell until you could see him again.Â
âFancy that, Price going against his own orders,â Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest.Â
Always looking for a fight.Â
âFuck, probably didnât even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,â Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.
Oh yeah, theyâd taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when youâd tried to show it to him. He didnât care for monster flicks.Â
âI donât think heâd lie,â you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.
âReally? I think heâd stab his own mother just to get a giggle,â Ghost snorted.
Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasnât remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware heâd done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month.Â
âMaybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,â you said, heading back toward the exit.Â
âTrue. Sure you donât want a reassuring hug before you go?â Soap asked, making a move like heâd come bounding up to you.
âNope! Not even if this is the job I die on,â you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas.Â
-â ïž-
Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while youâd much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasnât all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141.Â
Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point youâd take Priceâs steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday.Â
âYou seeing anything Sneaky?â
Priceâs hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max.Â
âNot a fuckinâ thing,â you finally muttered.
Youâd been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseauâs whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadnât already missed them.Â
Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets.Â
However, youâd been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough youâd have to swap again and itâd be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position.Â
âHold on Sneak, turn around - donât be obvious,â Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse.Â
You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Priceâs interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what heâd tipped you off on.
âTry to get in close.â
Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldnât be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didnât look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.
Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing.Â
âYour orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.â
âBut we have everything in place, weâre ready! I donât understand.â
The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet.Â
âWe have to be more reserved now. Ever sinceâŠhe was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Planâs changed.â
âWhat! because his-â
âQuiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, weâve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.â
âI donât accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we wonât be taken seriously.âÂ
You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a foxâs with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced.Â
âItâs a nice statue isnât it? Are you interested in buying?â
âUh, yeah I think so, itâs really cute,â you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. âHow much is it though?â
Regrettably for her you werenât going to be the easy mark that sheâd assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasnât going to ask for too much. Youâd figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadnât brought an awful lot and youâd already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, itâs little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way youâd be able to just accept the given price, youâd have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around.Â
While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move.Â
ââWe are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt againâ- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!â
âIt must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.â
You didnât have to struggle to blend in much longer.Â
A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The manâs pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. Heâd gone back to nothing after all.Â
âPrice, I'm going after him.â
You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow.Â
âYou need to stop, Sneak. We donât know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?â
Price was too late. Youâd collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife heâd stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other.Â
âI got him pinned down, weâre in the alley a few streets up, heâs fighting back pretty hard,â you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man.Â
âThatâs not what I ordered!â
âWell what are my orders now?â you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first.Â
Price didnât speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Priceâs ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move.Â
âComing to you now. Hold him there.â
Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldnât do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldnât give you any satisfaction for nothing.Â
His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally youâd been able to reach the pistol youâd secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum.Â
âGet the fuck off me! Iâll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!â
The man ranted and screamed, but even still you werenât deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasnât on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what youâd seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw.Â
âAre you alright?â a voice asked.
Someone that you didnât recognise, an accent you couldnât place.ïżœïżœ
âIâll be fine! Finish them off and letâs go,â your target responded.
You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like heâd been at the hotel.
Had that been your last though you wouldâve died happy, you decided.Â
Though you werenât going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than youâd felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another manâs scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away.Â
You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child.Â
âWhat the fuck did I tell you?â he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. âYou had no idea who else was there and wouldnât you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friendsâ
âIâŠI already had him before you said to let him go,â you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.
âIs that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,â he groaned, âLook at you, you look like youâre going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?â
âFeels like it too,â you said, smiling weakly. âI can see, things just got hazy for a second thereâŠDid you send the rest of the team after them?â
Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didnât look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley.Â
âCourse I sent them,â he said eventually. âDonât think theyâll catch up though.â
âFuck,â you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.
âHow badâs the wound?â you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood.Â
âNot bad. Not good either though,â Price deadpanned. âIâll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure youâre going to stay awake.â
âWalk? You mean we canât call an Uber?â
Price didnât see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didnât know him well enough.Â
âWhat is it?â
âTwo of emâ have seen your face now.â
You had already thought of that.Â
âI know,â you said quietly, finally looking away from him.Â
Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.
âWe need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.â
You nodded, you wouldnât fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own.Â
âDonât try to move on your own, let me help you,â Price growled.
âYou gonna carry me all the way back to car?â you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go.Â
âCanât bloody well leave you. We donât know if that bastardâs got more friends hanging around.â
âYou could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?â you asked, already knowing what his answer would be,Â
âNot a chance. Câmon, get moving those feet. Thatâs an order!â
Stubborn.Â
You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadnât broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasnât helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up.Â
âTalk to me. Donât give out on me now,â Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail.Â
âTalk about what?â you laughed, wincing with the movement.
âAnything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.â
âOk,â you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. âWhyâd you send König to come get me the other day?â
âReally? Thatâs all you could think of?â Price scoffed.
You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there werenât going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright.Â
âYouâre the one that told me I wasnât to speak to him again,â you said measuredly. âIt made me wonder why youâd send him to speak to me.â
âHe was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.â
âYou couldâve messaged.â
âI needed to make sure you knew to come right away.â
âAre you saying Iâm not reliable?â you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself. Â
You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Priceâs back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal.Â
âIf you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,â Price said, readjusting his grip on you. âAfter all that's happened.â
âOh really?â
âWell you wouldnât want to go near him now after what happened would you?âÂ
You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.
âSuppose not,â you answered.
âItâs better that wayâŠassociating with a man like that, youâd only end up at the top of someoneâs shit list.â
âYou think heâs got enemies?âÂ
âWhy else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?â he huffed. âYouâd be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people heâd pissed off came after you.âÂ
You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasnât that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness.Â
-â ïž-Â
âAre you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?â
You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather.Â
âYou said you wanted to look after me this week, didnât you?â
âWell yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,â he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.
You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. Youâd been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night.Â
Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.
âIs it because it's the Rammstein one?â you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. âBecause Iâm taking good care of it.â
He shook his head again and made his way to the door.Â
âI know youâre taking good care of it. I just donât have a lot of shirts to wear,â he explained, disappearing for a moment.Â
You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasnât going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like youâd earned it after youâd forgotten home comforts and stayed in a strangerâs house all to be with him. Not that he wasnât taking fantastic care of you.Â
You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what heâd brought you. Heâd heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation.Â
âThank you, König,â you hummed.
The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and youâd deduced he mustâve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.
Truth was, you hadnât really felt that bad once youâd been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldnât hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you werenât wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping.Â
âWhy is it that youâd want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?â König asked, breaking the silence.
You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup youâd taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face.Â
âIt smells like you. Makes me feel safe,â you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.
âAnd what do I smell like?â
âI dunnoâŠjust like you,â you shrugged. âManly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.â
âDonât belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,â he retorted.Â
âThatâs right, practicality over frivolityâŠHow German,â you said with a sly smile.Â
He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. Youâd delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered.Â
âYou call me German one more time, Iâm taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,â he said simply
âOh câmon, youâd never do that.â
âI just might,â he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. âYou know the difference.â
âIn fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.â
âYeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.â
âSuch a mean man, poor Germany!â
You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.
âPoor Sneak,â he laughed ominously. âStill hellbent on defending the Germans?â
âIf I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?â
âOnly one way to know for sure.â
You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didnât get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets.Â
âAre you ok? Did I hurt you?â König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek.Â
âIâm alright, it wasnât anything you did,â you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. âI think itâs time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?â
König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right.Â
âYeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, Iâll get them out for you.â
You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldnât wait till the headaches were done with.Â
âHere, take these,â König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.
You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains youâd had with it since itâd happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his.Â
âIâm alright now, itâs ok,â you smiled, trying to reassure him.Â
âMm, itâs far from ok,â König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. âIf I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, theyâll be sorry.â
You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing heâd accept that theyâd just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasnât personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again.Â
âI know how Iâd feel if it were the other way around,â you sighed, knowing heâd need a little reassurance you werenât going to run terrified. âBut you donât need to be angry for me. Iâm fine, thisâll all be better in a few days, ok?â
He didnât speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you.Â
âOk.â
âGood. Now, câmere and give me a hug so I feel better.â
His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.
âWhatâs this?â he asked curiously.Â
You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow youâd unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged.Â
âIt was the bird I got from the market that day,â you explained. âI found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.â
He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way youâd stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination.Â
âWhy donât you keep it?â you offered. âAnd then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.â
You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded.Â
âI suppose I could allow that⊠we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,â he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. âDeal?â
You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh.Â
âSounds like a good deal to me.â
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#König#König x reader#konig x reader#konig#könig fanfiction#modern warfare 2#modern warfare fanfiction#mw2#a rocky start
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