#tsunami mob

[kehlanifenty]

[bhristsunami]

Ladies and gentlemen.. Kehlani Parrish

Song from the tiktok ⬇️

| prettybhris on IG

[earth222ky]

lani🥵

[havemercyimyoung]

Did a lil sum'n with a fave from my fave. #tsnmi

[btheshewolf]

happy birthday kehlani!!! I've been listening to you for three years now and it has been insane to see how much you grew. your music helped me feel and heal. I'm forever grateful for your albums...i’m wishing you health, fun and all of the good things for your 28th!!! 🫀

[obsoleteozymandias]

Mob Psycho 100 Characters According to my 56 Year Old Mother (Who is a genius)

Reigen Arataka:

"Oh, that's David."

Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama:

"He looks odd. Rupert."

Dimple:

"King Maroot of the Megalodons."

(Me: What does that name mean???

My mom: It is the truth.)

Tsunami Takane:

"She's very pretty... Scabby Maureen."

(Me: I don't feel like her being pretty and "Scabby Maureen" align.

My mom: What do you have against scabby people?)

Ichi Mezato:

"Ugh, she looks a little too chatty... Gabby."

Teruki Hanazawa:

"Squamis Mike."

(Me: Like Magic Mike?

My mom: Yes, Magic Mike's evil cousin.)

Tome Kurata:

"Good Lord. Raggedy Dawn."

Katsuya Serizawa:

(Deep, exhausted sigh) "...Blaine?"

Ritsu Kageyama:

"Shrooooooooooovy Moe."

Toichiro Suzuki:

"Oh, he's relatively normal looking...too pretty, though. Evan."

Sho Suzuki:

"Fiery Red."

(Me: That sounds like a drag queen's name. Is he a drag queen?

My mom: No, but he wants to be.)

Joseph from The Government:

(Very repulsed) "Ugh...Excalibur."

Yusuku Sakurai:

"Dark Boy Donald. Are we done yet?”

[probablyasocialecologist]

“We’re seeing a tsunami of police investigations,” Sfard said. “People who are targeted go through a very frightening experience and even if it ends with no indictments, it’s still horrendous.

“There is a wave of silencing of any type of, not only criticism, but also just compassion.”

Protests in sympathy with Gaza have been dispersed with force and Israel’s chief of police, Yaakov Shabtai, said last week: “Anyone who wants to identify with Gaza is welcome. I will put them on buses now that are headed there and I will help him get there.”

At the beginning of last week, Israel’s attorney general’s office also announced that it had instructed universities and colleges to forward cases to the police of students who had posted “words of praise for terrorism”.

In the wake of the attorney general’s instructions, there has been an apparent purge in Israeli universities. The legal rights group Adalah has reported that about 50 Palestinian students have been summoned to disciplinary committees about their social media posts and some have been suspended from their studies.

Intimidation of both Jewish and Arab Israelis with dissident views has also come from faceless individuals and groups, stirring up hate online.

In one notable incident, the ultra-orthodox leftwing journalist Israel Frey posted a video saying Kaddish (the Jewish prayer for the dead) for the victims of the Hamas slaughter and Palestinian civilians under fire in Gaza.

Soon afterwards, an anonymous user of the Telegram messaging platform published his address, which was shared widely by rightwing groups, and a mob turned up outside, lobbing fireworks at his windows, forcing him to flee with his family. He is now in hiding.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[lucienarcheron]

Moth to a Flame [ Eiris ]

@erisweekofficial day six - AU; Inspired by my mobster au for Eris x Iris. / Mob Boss Eris Vanserra gets an unexpected visit from his dream girl. / TW: abuse (off-screen but aftermath is mentioned).

Find all things Eris x Iris here. / Read on AO3! / divider by @tsunami-of-tears

“You have a visitor.” 

Eris glanced up from the paperwork in his hand to find his infuriating brother, Finn leaning against the doorway with a smile he didn’t trust. 

He narrowed his eyes. “And who might that be?”

“Someone who has been avoiding you at all costs.” his brother said with that stupid grin and Eris lifted a brow. 

“There are many people who fall into that category,” he said dryly. “Especially when they owe me money.”

Finn snorted. “No, dumbass. It’s a girl.” His brother wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Your dream girl.”

Ah. Iris.

Eris Vanserra had been on the market, searching for a wife who would benefit rather than hinder his operations. Every girl from a decent family that he would’ve been able to use was either a simpering weakling or so over the top he’d wanted to put her down like a lame horse. He needed someone level-headed. Someone who would understand what it meant to be a mobster’s wife. 

Someone who wasn’t afraid of him. 

Iris Bertillon had been at one of the social events of the families and they had somehow ended up in front of one another. Five minutes into their conversation, she’d poured her drink on him. In public. In front of everyone in the room.

All because he’d offered to fuck her. She’d been so tense! Eris had thought it the gentlemanly thing to do. And yet…she had poured her drink right on his head and had only given him a look of disgust, stating, “I’d rather die than let a piece of shit like you touch me.”

It turned him on every time he thought about it. If Eris believed in such a thing, he’d call it love at first fight.

Before her father could lay a hand on her, apologizing profusely for his daughter’s behavior, Eris had already given the order for his brother Emil to pass along: No one was allowed to touch her. He had claimed her, whether she liked it or not. 

Despite that, Iris refused him at every turn. She returned his gifts. She’d either argue everything he said or sit in complete silence. Until of course, she couldn’t hold back on insulting him. To fight with him. 

People wondered how she’d gotten away with being like this considering Eris Vanserra had a reputation. But all the commotion she caused him did nothing but spur him on. She was indeed his dream girl. She was his. 

It didn’t matter that she denied it. Everyone knew who she belonged to and Eris couldn’t wait until she finally caved and he claimed her as thoroughly as he wanted to.

At the present moment, Eris didn’t allow himself an outward reaction to Finn’s declaration. His annoying brother would only be obnoxious about it. No, he would not grant his brother the satisfaction of knowing how his pulse had begun to race at the idea of Iris coming to him after going out of her way to avoid him for so long. He merely blinked at his brother. “Is she here with her father?” 

Finn’s smirk widened, crossing his arms. “No. Given how she’s dressed, it seems she has snuck out to see you.”

Eris’s brows furrowed and he turned to his computer, clicking until the security cameras popped up. Indeed, there she was, making her way into the estate. On foot.

“Why isn’t she in a car?” 

“That’s why I don’t think she’s supposed to be here. Otherwise, why come on foot?” Finn replied. “Considering how badly Bertillon wants her to suck your dick to get our influence, he would definitely make a show of dragging her to your doorstep.”

“Bertillon can die. I have no interest in him.” Eris said, watching Iris’s every move on the cameras. “He will give me whatever I want whether I marry his daughter or not.” 

“But you will marry his daughter, right?” Finn said with that annoying smirk. “Even if she doesn’t want you?”

Eris glanced back at his brother. “Grant her access to my front door and be sure no one stops her. No one is to interrupt us.”

“You got it,” he said with a salute. “But listen, I know you’ve been pent up for a while so make sure you don’t embarrass yourself by ending the session too quickly. We can’t have your reputation in shambles because of a limp dick.”

Eris shot his brother a look of disdain. “You have a second to fuck off or I’m shooting you in the leg.” 

But Finn only laughed, waving Eris off and then shutting the office door behind him. Eris’s focus went back to the security camera, again following Iris’s every move. 

Immediately, Eris knew something was off. For someone as prideful as she was, Iris was walking with her head down. He zoomed in on his screen, narrowing his eyes. Something about her walk was different. 

She had to be here for a reason. She had come to him.

He stood, his eyes never leaving the screen as Iris kept walking towards his front doors. Eris slowly straightened his dress shirt and adjusted his suspenders, grabbing the gun on his desk and sticking it back in its holster. He wasn’t sure why he felt a buzz under his skin. 

Was it excitement? Was he nervous? That would be preposterous. Eris Vanserra hadn’t been nervous in years. 

He made his way out of his office, his three pups lifting their heads as he passed the living room and made his way towards the front door.  Eris had a feeling this interaction was going to change something for him. She wouldn’t show up like this for nothing.

She knocked on the door right as he reached it and Eris paused for a breath, running a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. 

His dream girl was at his door. She had come to him.

The thought made the corner of his mouth curl up into his signature smirk as he opened his door and found her standing before him.

But his smirk slowly fell from his face the longer Eris glanced at her. 

Iris stood before him in a long coat that seemed to purposefully hide whatever she was wearing beneath it. Though the chilly air of October was upon them, something about the way she stood wasn’t sitting right with him.

It was as though her legs were shaking.

He leaned against his doorframe, his eyes taking her in. “Well, well, well,” he said calmly. “I see my little gazelle has found her way to me.” 

She said nothing but Eris watched her hands curl into fists at her side and he let a moment of silence pass between them, his pulse thumping. 

Something was not right. 

Where was the girl who nearly wanted to rip his head off every time she saw him? Who had thrown a dinner knife at him once? 

He pursed his lips and straightened, opening his door wider. “I thought you said you’d never let yourself stoop low enough to visit me?” he teased. “That you wouldn’t be caught dead coming to my hell of a prison?”

Silence filled the space between them and Eris’s brows furrowed again when her fists began to shake and every fiber in his body went on full alert. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. 

It took another minute before he finally heard her take a breath and slowly, as if it pained her to do so, Iris lifted her head and Eris’s head went silent.

Her face…her beautiful face was peppered in bruises. A cut on her lip, another near her eyebrow. Handprints bruising her throat. 

But her eyes remained locked on his, her bottom lip trembling violently as she blinked rapidly, and Eris knew she was trying not to cry in front of him. 

Her face was flushed and he sensed both anger and embarrassment to be seen like this by him but Iris swallowed hard, working her jaw until she finally whispered, “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Heat surged through his body as his gaze hardened and his grip on the doorframe tightened hard enough that the door creaked. “Who?” he spat.

He watched as she swallowed again, her gaze dropping to her feet and then back at him. “My father.”

Eris’s lip curled in anger. “Why.” 

The word came out as a demand but Iris didn’t flinch. She only blinked rapidly, her eyes locked on his, as if he was the one anchoring her to this moment, and licked her lips before answering. “He wanted to offer me to someone else and I said no.”

“Did he, now.” 

Iris managed a nod and Eris watched her fight back a wince as she straightened. “You still want to marry me, yes?”

“Without a shred of doubt, little gazelle.” 

Iris nodded again, quickly wiping at a stray tear that had managed to slip and Eris knew he would relish in killing her father. He would tear that piece of shit limb by limb and hang him for all to see.

Slipping a hand into her coat pocket, Iris pulled out a flash drive and handed it to him. “This is everything you need to make the transfer of all his assets easier.” She said, lifting her chin. “I’ll consider his death my wedding gift.” 

Eris’s answering smirk was nothing short of deadly as he took a step back and gestured with his hand to come in. “Then welcome home, Iris.” 

[meloriri]

thinking about ren. thinking about how he's not the self principled, righteous person others think he is. thinking of how he adores his mask of anonymity, because he doesnt care for himself as a person. as a person, he's whatever other people want him to be. to use as a punching bag, to use a shoulder to cry on, to use as someone to rant to, to use as a friend. he doesnt oppose to it unless its directly affecting other people negatively. but joker; joker is everything about him that he's not, in a sense. a strong backbone, a leader, a strategically sound, skillful person uncaring of outside opinions. someone that follows their heart with perseverance regardless of the consequences. ren IS that person, he wants to be that person, but he cant fathom that being him as a person. he is glad he can live himself as a second person as joker, but glad to be able to stay in his safe, conforming box as ren.

thinking of how he hates society's norm of "minding your own business" and not interfering with other people's upsetting scenarios. he lived his life feeling that way but keeping it in and just keeping to himself, not complaining, not saying a thing. despite that, he knows he hates it, and because of the way others put him down for it, they both tell him he needs to fix his pickiness on morals, and he also repeats it to himself

the love he's recieving; the love he gets from being a people-pleaser---sometimes it humiliates him, it degrades and defiles him. it disgusts him--But not disgust at the person sending love, at himself. For tricking people, for acting how they want him to despite not believing a word he says. despite him actually being rebellious. he is disgusted by his own act of pretending to conform, but he cant defy it.

And once the world is bright, when the world is good; He'll only be left behind as an afterthought. Someone erased from society's memory.

he only yearns for the ideals of other; he wishes to see the way they do, to conform, but he is unable. He wants to fit in, but never can. he burnt his individuality, his opinions, his feelings and his rebellion to an ash, an ash that takes the form of Arsene. the very spirit of his heart, from the ashes of the identity he left behind.

he is unable to understand what love really is, if it's real, if it's honest; if he even actually feels it. this is why he's so monotone even when confessing to his love interests; he still doesnt quite understand. what love is supposed to be, the different kinds of love, how one experiences falling in love. Such a complex is explained by lack of love presented towards him. a lack of attention, of praise, and most of all, of any care. family, friends, anything.

one of the most inspiring parts of his story is how he learns to experience love, from familial to platonic, and understands it; how he uses it and lives by it.

A lynch mob is a group of people to lynch others. The religious society is the self righteous, conforming society. The phantom thieves are the lynch mob; despite not actually HANGING people obviously, it stands as a metaphor for them actively punishing the poor actions of others while the rest of society is against the meddling, seeing nothing wrong with the corruption. in a religious world, joker is portrayed as SATAN. he actively KILLS GOD. to society, he is an absolute evil; someone only there for the joy of destroying others. to himself, its only righteous punishment. stopping corrupted actions of others. like how satan is seen to be truly evil for his betrayal to god (think about some of things god did for a min. like tell ppl to kill their first born sons for him, hitting people with a huge tsunami......) and for being the ruler of hell, without realizing that satan stands for the PUNISHMENT of those who go to hell. hes not there to ruin others life, ren is there to save them by exorcising the evil. despite the way society treats him as person, despite them going directly against his attempt at helping them, he doesn't let it break him. he keeps fighting for people even when they hate him for doing it.

He's putting his ego, his self acceptance in conformity, the mask he's perfectly crafted as someone that anyone can like to the ground. he's putting his greed, his greed to have the ideals of all others, to understand society, along with it. He's finally himself, and he can announce that to his family, to those who wanted him to conform proudly and unafraid, uncaring of their opinion on who he is.

with a newly, fully solid grasp on rebellion, he will stand with his hell, as satan, punishing the evil until the bitter end of it. So he pleads that just for this time, until this end, that the world will go along with him, with their feelings; their own desires to conform, to please others, ripped out of them. To have their original feelings; their values, opinions and lifestyles revealed from the depths of within themselves and shown to the world. These feelings that they were once unashamed of, before being taught to conform, the feelings from childhood.

and at last, with the person he now is, he will finally be remembered. noted by others, and seen. But now seen as who he is instead of who he acted as. Not someone serious, not someone only there to please others; someone entirely unrecognizable. Someone who has come to complete terms with their own rebellion.

could u tell all of this was from bitter choco decoration by syudou?

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP, hi

I was thinking, if Jungkook and Jimin are together. Why would risk their safety, by doing things like, jikooking non stop in every docu, going on trips and showing the romantic result in the end, constantly flirting during lives, saying things that let us know their families are close, etc. They must know it will harm them sooner or later. Why not be more careful?

***

If you don't mind scrolling back far enough, you'll see an ask from a few days back, of someone frustrated that the wider fandom doesn't 'see' jikook.

And there's your answer.

A lot of people dislike other members to the point they can't stand watching much of any content that shows those members, so their chance of catching on to jikook is already minimal. Also, many people can excuse jikook's actions as fanservice, putting on an act for the job, or fulfilling a persona - all of which are normal for the industry. The cues that people who dig deeper into jikook pick up on, are oftentimes lost in the white noise of whatever else is happening for other people. They don't really 'see' jikook.

Jikook can afford to show their affection out loud. They can add in their butt squeezes into the tsunami of Bangtan ass grabs that happen anyway, but then, after the concert, have it be typical for Jungkook to spend hours on end in Jimin's room (and the kicker is it's been like this since debut). Jikook can have an 'orbiting satellite' situation, in a group of seven tannies who move like a litter of puppies anyway. Jikook can wear queer clothing brands and items with queer symbolism, in an industry that has many idols doing the same as the norm. That ambiguity and plausible deniability is what protects them in a sense.

Some people call this odd, limbo of denial and acceptance that k-pop idols can take advantage of: the glass closet. [ @stormblessed95 has talked about this (perhaps in passing) on their blog before I believe, so feel free to search up "glass closet" or table your ask directly to them. They're nice. :) ]

That said, everything has a limit, and plausible deniability is worth less and less in the age of online mobbing and cancellation.

So I hope jikook are safe, and remain safe. Happy, too.

[kehlanifenty]

[eretzyisrael]

by Lyn Julius

The results of the British Jewish election are in: a landslide victory for the Labour party. Will it be good for the Jews?

The Jewish vote will have reflected the national trend of a swing to Labour, but many Jews remain seriously concerned over resurgent antisemitism. They remain skeptical about new prime minister Sir Keir Starmer’s reassurances that Jeremy Corbyn’s far left antisemitism has been expunged from the party. And, they ask, will a Labour government take a robust enough stand against antisemitism?

A global tsunami of antisemitism without precedent smashed into the Diaspora in the wake of the October 7 Hamas attacks; the link between antisemitism and anti-Zionism has never been clearer.  Hostility to Israel has translated into intimidation and  brutality against ordinary Jews and their property in London and Paris, Los Angeles and Montreal.

While the pro-Israel Conservatives did not always put their money where their mouth was – and the last foreign secretary, Lord Cameron, shocked many with his moral equivalence over Israel’s war on Hamas — the Conservatives’ fall from power means that UK’s 300,000 Jews have lost the most pro-Israel government they could have hoped for. Labour’s policy on the Middle East is ambivalent at best. The Greens are unabashedly pro-Palestinian and the Liberal party are equivocal, if not anti-Israel.  The Reform party have their fair share of antisemitic conspiracy nutjobs. Although ‘Gaza George’ Galloway has lost his seat, Jewish hearts will also sink at the news that four independent MPs were elected on a pro-Gaza ticket.

‘A pro-Gaza ticket’  is doublespeak for the demand for Israel to surrender unconditionally to Hamas, to be pilloried in the international courts for alleged ‘war crimes’ and to suffer political and economic boycotts and strangulation. The pro-Gaza lobby do not want a ‘two-state solution,’ they want Israel gone.

How has it come to this – that whole swathes of public opinion believe that the Jews are to blame for October 7, that Israel’s war against Hamas is unjust and and that Palestinian terror groups – in reality proxies for Iranian aggression and imperialism – are the aggrieved party? The role of the media in misleading public opinion by omitting essential context and amplifying blood libels cannot be underestimated.

The lie, peddled over decades by Western pundits and academics wracked by post-colonial guilt,  that Israelis are ‘white settler colonialists,’ is probably the most egregious. Tens of thousands of young people have been swayed by this inversion of the truth. Not only are Jews an indigenous people of the Middle East and North Africa (MENA)  with a right to self-determination in their ancestral homeland, but they predate Islam and the Arab conquest in the wider Middle East by 1,000 years or more.  Even Jews from Europe and the US were traditionally treated as outsiders. They have incontrovertible  cultural, linguistic and genetic links with the Middle East. Crucially, over half the Jewish population of Israel are refugees from Arab countries or their descendants. Ninety-nine percent have been driven from the Middle East and North Africa by mob violence and state-sanctioned persecution –  in greater numbers than Palestinian refugees from Israel.

How many politicians taking their seats in the new Parliament will have heard of  the 850,000 Jewish refugees from Arab countries? How many will be aware of the abuse of their human rights? Apart from a handful of MPs representing ‘Jewish’ constituencies –  none.

In order to challenge ignorance and entrenched misconceptions, we need to launch a massive, pro-active, education campaign about Jewish refugees from Arab countries. The largest act of ethnic cleansing in the Israel-Arab conflict took place not against Palestinians, but Jews. Hamas just wants to finish the job by eradicating our last redoubt in Israel.

We urgently need to reframe the terms of the debate.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Tsunami Creator's Chapter 168

TL;DR - Cale's group peeks at the jiangshi. Dokgo Ryeong is the lone survivor. Cale and GED meeting.

Soos? LSH = ❌ CJS = ❌

Blood Cult Jiangshis Not much happened at the first part as it was just Cale personally confirming the numerous jiangshi that Raon, CH, and CJS saw. But Heavenly Demon (HD) is back! He sneaked in too and was surprised when the invisible Cale grabbed his arm. The skinship~! 🥰

Dokgo Ryeong If you recall, she is the heir to the Dokgo Clan who once got into an argument with the trash of the Namgung Clan in the inn. Her father, the clan leader, fought the Blood Cult members in order to let Dokgo Chang escape.

Frankly, this part was sad. Dokgo Ryeong witnessed her entire family killed. And now, she was going to be turned into a living jiangshi. However, she remained hopeful that Dokgo Chang would contact Cale and get help.

New Characters We are introduced to the two candidates for the next Blood Demon.

Yoona/Yoon - female with sky blue hair. Described as a cold-looking beauty.

Hoya - male with dark blue hair like the sea. Yoona's older brother and described as having a naive impression.

Both are said to be in the Profound Realm, the highest martial arts rank. Oooh, we have strong enemies! But with how OP Cale's group are, they might end up as mere mobs... 😑

Cale and GED Meeting Last part was the strategy meeting with the key figures of each murim faction.

Good Faction - Elder Ho, Jegal Mi Ryeo, Splitter Saint, Sword Saint, Tang Clan leader

Evil Faction - Sima Dan, Sima Gong, Pinnacle Demon

Demon Cult - Heavenly Demon, Brain Demon

Those above were the only ones mentioned in this chapter, so I'm unsure if there are others. Anyway, Cale got them all puzzled when he talked about his plans to destroy the fortress walls. They were like, how will he do that??? Hahaha 😂😂😂 Everyone, look forward to the tsunami! Those jiangshi will soon be swimming in a wave pool. 🌊🌊🌊

Ending Remarks So much hype for the tsunami in the past chapters... Hopefully, we'll finally see it on Friday's chapter. And if Cale will cough blood, ufufufu~ 😊

[aroaceswagcompetition]

MASTERPOLL 1

Vylad Ro'meave?(Minecraft) vs Abed(Community)

Phineas(Phineas and Ferb) vs Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece)

Remus and Logan (Sanders Sides)vs Aya(I Just Wanna Be Single)

Shigaraki Tomura(BNHA) vs Georgia Warr (Loveless)

Kyle Broflovski(South Park) vs Shadow the Hedgehog(Sonic)

Marco Diaz(Star vs The Forces of Evil) vs Juno McGuff(Juno)

K1-B0(Danganronpa) vs Bubby(hlvrai)

Lydia Martin(Teen Wolf) vs Mihashi Ren (Ookiku Furikabutte)

Alucard(Castlevania (games)) vs Teardrop(BFDI / BFB)

Friday(Hello from the hallowoods) vs Victor Vale(Villains Book Series)

Test Tube(Inanimate Insanity) vs Cerise Hood(Ever After High)

Phosphophyllite (Phos)(Land of the Lustrous) vs Abe Takaya(Ookiku Furikabutte (Oofuri))

Yoo Sangah(Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint) vs Chell(Portal (Valve))

Barry (Pokemon) vs Paul (The Bible)

Ca Cupid(Monster High) vs Mera Chisato (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

Red Son(Lego Monkie Kid) vs Hearthstone Alderman(Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard )

Onceler(Lorax) vs Hastune Miku(Vocaloid)

Fei Hargreeves(The Umbrella Academy) vs Aled Last(Radio Silence)

Cher(Clueless) vs Asterix(Asterix and Obelix)

Sakuko Kodama5&Takahashi Satoru4(Koisenu Futari) vs Death(Puss in Boots:The Last Wish)

Double Trouble(She-Ra Princess of Power) vs Suitcase(Inanimate Insanity)

Childe(Genshin Impact) vs Patrick Star(Spongebob)

Fujisaki Nozomi(Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!) vs Howl Jenkins(Howl’s Moving Castle)

Mei (Monkie Kid) vs Ichika Hoshino (Project SEKAI)

Kujou Sara (Genshin Impact) vs Abbi Singh (The Imperfects)

Takashi Natsume (Natsume’s Book of Friends) vs Tails(Sonic)

Klavier Gavin (Ace Attorney) vs Chara (Undertale)

Bakugou (BNHA) vs Donatello,Mikey,Raph,Leo (TMNT)

Corey Riffin(Grojband) vs Robin Goodfellow (Na Daoine Maithe *The Good People *)

Katarina Claes (My Next Life as a Villainess) vs Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Tsunami (Wings of Fire) vs Toy Foxy (FNAF 2)

Thalia Grace (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) vs Katsuya Serizawa (Mob Psycho 100)

Zhu Chongba(She Who Became The Sun) vs Ling Chan (The Diviners)

Ruth (Covenant Webtoon) vs Mettaton (Undertale)

Percival King (Epithet Erased) vs PAC Man (Pac Man and The Ghostly Adventure)

Musa(Winx Club) vs Green Oak (Pokémon)

Link (Legend of Zelda) vs Moana (Moana)

Steve Morley (Sex Education) vs Ema Skye (Ace Attorney)

Zim (Invader Zim) vs Dewey Duck (Ducktales 2017)

Sonic(Sonic the Hedgehog) vs Mater(Cars)

Din Song and Li Na Wang (Wish Dragon) vs Floofty Fizzlebean(Bugsnax)

Hiro Hamada(Big Hero 6) vs Ena(The Ena Series)

Espresso Cookie (Cookie Run) vs Jiang Cheng (Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed)

Percy(Legend of Vox Machina) vs Makoto Sunakawa(Ore Monogatari)

Shouto Todoroki(BNHA) vs Rey(Star Wars)

Giorno Giovanna (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure) vs Kusanagi Nene (Project SEKAI)

Olivier Mira Armstrong(Fullmetal Alchemist) vs Blanche(Wikidot!Backrooms)

Kusuke Saiki vs Kusuo Saiki vs Kuriko Saiki (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

[female-buckets]

So I'm sure everyone saw that ESPN rookie ranking that put Cam at #1 and Caitlin #6...

I don't think she's as low as #6. Her stats put her at #1. But then there's the high usage rate, low efficiency, and fact her team was better last year. So you could maybe put her at #2. But #6 is wild! They're basically saying she's off the all-rookie team.

But I don't think ESPN actually believes that. And I do think they'll give her ROTY at the end of the season. But there's something else going on behind the scenes. And ESPN ranked her #6 to prepare people for what's about to happen.

The Olympic roster has been finalized and USA Basketball is preparing their press release. Everyone on the team already knows they're on the team. USA Basketball can smell the media shit storm on the horizon. So they've told contacts in the media about what's going to happen. And those contacts are trying to bring the CC narrative to a screeching halt before the news hits. They're trying at the last minute to drag the entire media circus over to Cameron Brink, the Stanford Olympian. But it won't work. It's going to be hell because the CC narrative is a runaway train.

But I think it'll be good for CC. It will motivate her. It will give her a chance to reflect on the sport and her place in it at this point in time. It will give her a chance to focus on what she can control and ignore the things she can't control. One thing she can control is her response to the roster news. Depending on how she responds, she can have a massive impact on the hell the veterans will face.

The best case scenario for all involved is if she gets out ahead of the angry mob. If she says the right thing, she can turn the entire angry mob into flag-waving Team USA patriots. That's what the sport of women's basketball needs from her. She has an opportunity to earn a tsunami of respect and gratitude from veterans and from USA Basketball. That respect and gratitude is far more valuable than anything the angry mob can ever offer her.

But she doesn't have to say anything if she doesn't want to. She could stand back and let the mob have their way with the national team. She wouldn't be the first star to do that.