#international law MUST be enforced

[news4dzhozhar]

#Netanyahu has always wanted to destroy Iran and is actively trying to trigger retaliation #Bibis death wish is a huge miscalculation #play stupid games win stupid prizes #iran #syria #damascus #they have gotten away with genocide and breaking international law and the rules of the geneva convention for decades #apartheid #save palestine #ethnic cleansing #israel is an apartheid state #seek truth #free palestine 🇵🇸 #genocide #illegal occupation #israel is committing genocide #israeli war crimes #dont be fooled #propaganda kills #israel is a terrorist state #israel lies while Palestine dies #WWIII is gonna have Netanyahus name all over it #international law MUST be enforced #Israel MUST finally face the consequences of their murderous actions #israel is NOT the victim #israel is a war criminal #permanent ceasefire #israel needs to face the consequences of their actions #war pigs #war crimes

[fiercynn]

okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

#fuck biden #u.s. politics #free palestine #genocide #covid #immigrant justice #prison abolition #police abolition #ableism #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

[odinsblog]

Let us be very clear: Hamas breached international law on the 7th of October. Hamas targeted innocent civilians in the most callous and inhumane manner, and their actions have been rightly condemned by right thinking people across the world.

But we should also be very clear, Israel has breached international law, not just every day since October the 7th, but virtually every single day for decades.

Israel occupies Palestinian land, against international law.

Israel blockades Palestinian territory, against international law.

Israel builds and expands illegal settlements, against international law.

Israel enforces an apartheid system that restricts the movements of Palestinians and denies their fundamental rights, against international law.

And Israel regularly and systematically attacks and kills Palestinian civilians, against international law.

So the question that must be answered by all of us in political life is this: How does the world respond to flagrant abuses of international law when it comes to the horrendous war crimes of Hamas? The response was very clear and very consistent. World leaders queued up to say Israel has the right to defend itself. One after another repeated their words the great and the good, including our government.

“Israel has the right to defend itself.”

Repeated in statement after statement, tweet after tweet, despite the full knowledge that those words have become contaminated. The words, “Israel has the right to defend itself” means in practice that Israel takes that right as license to bombard civilians, to bomb schools, hospitals and other civilian infrastructure. And it has now been taken as license to enforce the displacement of 1 million people from one end of an open air prison to another. To deny food, energy, medical supplies to a besieged civilian population, to actually deny them water, to ensure that children, the sick, the disabled, the elderly will literally die of thirst.

“Israel has the right to defend itself” has now become cover for, “Israel has the right to commit genocide.”

Right in front of our eyes. How come we never hear the words, “Palestine has the right to defend itself”?

Not when a humanitarian flotilla bringing essential supplies to Gaza is met with a military assault and the murder by Israel of nine unarmed activists.

Not when Palestinians march in peaceful protests against illegal blockade and are met again with a military assault and the murder of 300 of them.

Not after the countless bombings of Gaza by Israeli forces.

Not even when Israel targeted and murdered four little Palestinian boys playing football on a beach.

And not when Palestinians were dragged from their homes and forced to watch as those homes were destroyed to allow for new illegal Israeli settlements on lands that are clearly defined in international law as part of Palestine.

And not after the countless offensive attacks by Israel against the people of Gaza or the West Bank, have we or any heard anybody in this house or any Western leader uttered the words, “Palestine has the right to defend itself.”

And why not?

And by the way, I'm not asking you to say those words. And in fact, it's just as well you don't. Because we all know that the people of Palestine can't defend themselves, not against one of the most powerful military forces in the world that is backed up by even more powerful military forces.

The truth is that the people of Palestine, just like the innocent people of Israel, don't need the international community to tell them that their leaders have the right to inflict more bombings, more pain, more suffering. They need the international community to say, “Stop.” To release the hostages, to say stop the bombings, the siege, the slaughter. They need the international community to tell Israel to stop the blockade, stop the apartheid, stop the annexations, to stop the genocide.

And they need countries Tánaiste to lead the way. And Ireland should be one of those countries that leads the way.

We know colonialism.

We know oppression.

We know conflict.

But we also know conflict resolution.

We know peace building.

We know nation building.

And because of what we know, what our history has taught us, our call tonight must be clear, immediate, full and unequivocal ceasefire fires and a decisive international intervention that leads to negotiations and to a lasting and just peace settlement and to, at long last, to a free, sovereign and independent Palestine.🇵🇸

#politics #palestine #gaza #israel #genocide #war crimes #hamas ≠ palestine #ceasefire #collective punishment #settler colonialism #benjamin netanyahu is a war criminal #israel is an apartheid state #ireland #the irish

[reasonsforhope]

An illegal toxic dump site in Croatia, the theft of water from a major aquifer in southern Spain, illegal trading of ozone-depleting refrigerants in France: This is just a sampling of the environmental crimes that European countries are struggling to stop. The lack of accountability for these acts stems in part from the European Union’s legal code, which experts say is riddled with vague definitions and gaps in enforcement. That’s about to change. 

Last week, EU lawmakers voted in a new directive that criminalizes cases of environmental damage “comparable to ecocide,” a term broadly defined as the severe, widespread, and long-term destruction of the natural world. Advocates called the move “revolutionary,” both because it sets strict penalties for violators, including up to a decade in jail, and because it marks the first time that an international body has created a legal pathway for the prosecution of ecocide.

“This decision marks the end of impunity for environmental criminals and could usher in a new age of environmental litigation in Europe,” wrote Marie Toussaint, a French lawyer and EU parliamentarian for the Greens/European Free Alliance group, on X...

The new directive uses the term “ecocide” in its preamble, but does not criminalize the act by laying out a legal definition (the most widely accepted definition of ecocide was developed by an international panel of experts in 2021). Instead, it works by providing a list of “qualified offenses,” or crimes that fall within its purview. These include pollution from ships, the introduction of invasive species, and ozone depletion...

The new law holds people liable for environmental destruction if they acted with knowledge of the damage their actions would cause. This aspect of the law is important, experts said, because it means that a permit is no longer enough for a company to avoid culpability.  

“If new information shows that behavior is causing irreversible damage to health and nature – you will have to stop,” a member of the European Parliament from the Netherlands, Antonius Manders, told Euronews. 

Advocates like Mehta hope that the EU’s move will have influence beyond Europe’s borders. The principal goal of the Stop Ecocide campaign is for the International Criminal Court to designate ecocide as the fifth international crime that it prosecutes, after crimes against humanity, war crimes, crimes of aggression, and genocide. At the moment, environmental destruction can only be prosecuted as a war crime at the ICC, and limitations in the law make this extremely difficult to do...

Kate Mackintosh, the executive director of the Netherlands-based UCLA Law Promise Institute Europe, told Grist that the ICC is unlikely to adopt an ecocide law if other countries do not do so first. 

“It’s not something you can just pull out of thin air,” she said, adding that any international legal doctrine has to have a precedent on the national level. “That’s the way states are going to accept it.”

The EU’s 27 member states will have two years to adapt the new legislation into their penal codes. Afterwards, their implementation must be reviewed and updated at least once every five years using a “risk-analysis based approach,” to account for advancements in experts’ understanding of what might constitute an environmental crime. Mehta said that despite its omission of some important offenses, the law sets an important example for other countries. Several days before the EU vote, Belgium adapted its criminal code to include the directive, making it the first country in Europe to recognize ecocide as a crime.

The ruling “shows leadership and compassion,” Mehta said. “It will establish a clear moral as well as legal ‘red line’, creating an essential steer for European industry leaders and policy-makers going forward.”

-via Grist, March 6, 2024

#climate change #climate crisis #climate catastrophe #climate action #eu #european union #icc #international criminal court #belgium #europe #environment #environmental law #environmental news #ecocide #good news #hope #hope posting

[opencommunion]

please read & share on all platforms. Palestinian resistance groups have asked us to pay close attention to the plight of imprisoned Palestinians, as the occupation believes that since all eyes are on Gaza they can abuse and assassinate prisoners out of sight

Statement issued by the Office of Martyrs, Prisoners, and the Wounded of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, via RNN Prisoners:

“Horrific testimonies about the crimes committed by the occupation and prison administration against prisoners and detainees in its jails.

The information and data we receive from inside zionist prisons about the systematic crimes committed by the occupation's prison administration against prisoners, since October 7th, are terrifying. There is a systematic decision to assassinate the prisoners through punitive measures carried out by the prison service, and evidence of this is the martyrdom of several prisoners.

The magnitude of crimes, both collective and individual assaults on prisoners—which occur during the raids on sections and cells and which are continuously escalating—is alarming, in addition to the adoption of a starvation policy against them, as the prisoners only have tuna, corn, and sometimes inedible eggs as food.

The aggression against the prisoners began on October 7th. The prisoners face ongoing aggression, with continuous punitive operations and retaliatory measures affecting them and their families.

The Office of Martyrs, Prisoners, and the Wounded for the PFLP is closely following the issues of prisoners and detainees, which is challenging. We consider the silence of human rights, humanitarian, and international institutions unjustifiable. They must fulfill their humanitarian duty and what their conscience dictates, obliging the occupation to respect international laws and conventions established for this purpose. We hold them fully responsible for their lives.

The Office highlights the measures that the prison administration continues to impose on prisoners. The prison administration cuts off electricity to the prisoners' cells and rooms, deliberately cuts off their water supply, enforces a starvation policy, has withdrawn food supplies from prisoner sections, reduced meals to two times a day, closed the canteen, and deprived prisoners of other basic necessities.

Furthermore, heavily armed suppression forces raid all prisoners' sections and rooms, maltreat them, physically assault them, and use police dogs. They have escalated policies of depriving prisoners of medical treatment, forbidding visits from families and lawyers, and denying them treatment in hospitals, especially for sick prisoners. The prison administration also reduced the space available to a prisoner inside a cell, where the number of prisoners in one cell reached more than ten, and many prisoners were transferred to solitary cells. Solitary confinement was imposed on prisoners and some sections were isolated from others.

We note that the prison administration has removed available television sets and electrical appliances, destroyed all of the prisoners' belongings, confiscated their clothes, leaving only one change of clothing for each prisoner. They have also confiscated radios, blankets, and shoes from them, prevented them from bathing and going to the courtyard, closed the sinks used for washing, and carried out collective transfer operations, including moving prisoners from one section to another and from one prison to another.

We, in the Office of Martyrs, Prisoners, and the Wounded of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, want to reassure our people that the General Secretary of the Popular Front, the comrade, leader, and prisoner Ahmed Saadat, and his comrades are well. They are at the heart of the battle with the prison administration, and they will achieve a great victory over the jailer and will soon gain their freedom. We are closely following all the developments inside the prisons, as well as the ongoing communications and negotiations for a prisoner exchange process being carried out by the Palestinian resistance to empty the prisons and release all the prisoners.

Freedom to our heroic prisoners.

Glory and eternity to the martyrs.

Speedy recovery to the wounded.

Victory is the ally of our people, and the occupation will inevitably come to an end.”

#palestine #I’m so worried about the prisoners and my posts about what they’re facing consistently get a fraction of the notes on anything else I post #probably because white westerners are conditioned to view incarcerated people as disposable 🫥

[lightwing-s]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑

pairing: dick grayson x fem! reader

summary: as an intern at the police department you should know how to separate work from personal life, but when officer dreamy comes after you, you can't help it but mix them together

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,2k warnings: unprotected sex, cum eating, handjob (f receiving), slight overstimulation, a lot of pinning for each other

a/n: i gave up proof reading halfway because i was sleepy, so it might be okay at first and then become messy. sorta base on my experience working at a police precinct earlier this year, but not faithful (at all) to reality.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Jumping off the last step down the bus, you rush into the streets, swerving through the crowds, bumping against people, getting sworn at by some, and somehow managing your way through the busy mess that was Gotham’s early mornings.

The headphones glued to your ear were the only thing trying to distract you from all the chaos that was the start of your day, but as the shuffle merged bossa nova into 2000s punk rock, you felt your body react and jump into a faster pace on your way to work. Within each step, the Greek columns of the old imposing building of the Gotham City’s Police Department grew bigger in the horizon, letting you know your commute was close to its end.

Beep beep, your watch announced the start of your shift. Damn it, you were late again. Trying to speed up your steps, you felt your calves start to burn, but the building soon was right in front of you, a couple of steps separating you both.

“Good morning, Yn.” greeted one of the officers, as you passed by him in a rush, as you made your way up the large steps without somehow managing to trip as he was bound somewhere else, already deep into the rash routine of being a police officer at the country’s most dangerous city.

Bursting through the doors, you look around to see if your supervisor, officer McCaffrey, was anywhere near. He hated you and had been on your ass since you started arriving a bit later than you were supposed to, a move further away from the precinct ruining your commute times.

Not seeing his growing bald head anywhere around, you jump ahead and find your way to your desk, stacked with piles and piles of papers, old cases handed to you to be typed and launched into this new software funded by Mr. Bruce Wayne.

Interning at a police station wasn’t exactly a part of your meticulously drawn up plan to get into law school, as law enforcement was on the far bottom of your list of possible careers to choose for your future. However, from day one you were surprised by how much you enjoyed working at the department, by how much you enjoyed the people, both your co-workers and, weirdly, the criminals you got to meet on a daily basis. 

Sometimes it was too much, juggling school work and the internship, plus all the side hustles you had to take just to make it through college without starving to death. But it all had its good sides. Sometimes, some really good ones.

Placing your bag over the pile of cases, you were about to go around your desk and sit down on the rather uncomfortable chair to start typing those damned cases away, when the rough voice of the main antagonist of this current season of your life reached your ears. 

“Miss, Ys,” your supervisor called. Rolling your eyes, you forced yourself to remain still, a lot of effort put into not throwing your head back in defeat as you turned around to meet face of your tormentor for the first time that day. “Thought you started your program at…” he dragged himself out, looking at his clock. “Exactly fifteen minutes ago.”

“Hello, officer McCaffrey.” you forced out a smile while greeting him. “Well, I was here fifteen minutes ago, you must have missed me.”

You confidently tried to lie, hoping the time spent with suspected criminals had taught you something, but being sure your face must have told him the opposite of what you meant. “I’m pretty sure I looked all over for you.”

“Are you sure?” you feigned innocence when trying once more.

“Miss Yn, this is a serious institution and if you’re not going to cooperate by doing your job properly I’m sorry to inform you that…” 

“You won’t need it, Christian.” a deeper voice cut your supervisor off as he started to scold you again. The voice, a tone you could easily identify from how much you’d heard it and dreamed of it in the past few months. “I stopped Miss Yn outside for a talk. I did not think there would be any problem.”

Sounding much more confident in his lie than you did, you were sure you could’ve fallen for it if it wasn’t of you he was talking about.

“Officer Grayson, Miss Ys has got a job to finish, she doesn’t need to go around having conversations with what I imagine are busy policemen.” officer Tormentor replied, not even caring to turn around and face the other voice’s owner, disdain covering each and everyone of his words.

“We were just discussing a case, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Yn?” Officer Grayson called you by your first name along with a wink, the remaining energy left from not rolling your eyes at officer McCaffrey earlier keeping you from melting at how sweet your name sounded coming out of his mouth. 

McCaffrey finally turned to face your white night in a white button-up, only his back in your line of view now as you were still paralyzed in your spot, the image of Officer Grayson trapping your attention from anything else in the precinct.

“Dick,” your supervisor continued, the name sounding off of him like an annoyance. ”You’re not supposed to share confidential information with the students.” He told him bitterly.

“Aren’t they here to learn about our job, Christian?” Officer Grayson replied, the same annoyance playing on his tongue, but at the same time full of an uplifting fun only Dick Grayson could master and that you were sure only annoyed Christian more.

Facing the sudden silence between you three, you noticed Officer Grayson’s eyebrow raising, challenging his fellow officer to complain about you one more time.

“Sure, but…”

“I was doing just that, making sure Yn’s internship actually brings some value to her future.” Grayson cut him once more. “No sensitive information was shared, just the look of an investigation through a detective’s eye. And even so, miss Yn is one of the most competent interns we’ve had in a while and I’m sure she would’ve been able to keep any information she might’ve gotten. I’m sure talking with actual officers is much more beneficial than typing old cases into a system.”

Silence overcame you three again, Grayson’s words having a certain impact on you. Your shoes, stained and in desperate need of a wash, suddenly became interesting as you lowered your face to hide the burning red on your cheeks. The insides of your lips were chewed on, stopping the smile from spreading on your face.

Finally looking up, your eyes briefly met Officer Grayson’s, but you moved away quickly, afraid of what they might’ve done to you. 

Officer McCaffrey opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, his mind certainly trying to muster a comeback to Grayson’s defense of you but clearly failing to do so. His eyes moved from you to his coworker, and you wondered what was going through his head.

Whatever it was, it would never live up to Officer Dick Grayson. He just never would.

“Very well,” McCaffrey finally spoke, turning to face you with a displeased expression. “Get on with your typing.”

Turning on his heel, McCaffrey walked away from the two of you, the hardness of his hips making his walk look funny and with the bald spot growing in his head the both of you let out a soft chuckle.

Resting your butt on the desk behind you, the need of formality gone with your supervisor, you took this time to eye up the man left with you. 

That man didn’t have a bad looking day, showing up like a greek god every single day at work. He wore his usual white button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows and exposing his thick forearms, built effortlessly at the gym - you were sure -, and decorated with veins you secretly wanted to map with your fingertips. 

He wore gray pants today, a color he often varied with either dark blue, black or beige, but the latter, thankfully, becoming rarer with each passing day. It didn’t compliment him, making his look rather boring in your opinion, nor did it match well with any of his shoes, probably more expensive than anything you owned. 

His badge and gun hang on his hips, held on the black belt made of the most sophisticated leather in the world, or so you’d bet. He seemed to take good care of himself, as not only his skin glistened like a glazed donut, but he exuded a strong woody smell, following him along to every room he entered.

However, the lack of a tie and the untidy hair signaled to you he might’ve been just as late as you were. And still, he looked majestic. The highlight of your long hours at the precinct.

“Hello, officer Grayson.” you greeted him shyly. You certainly should not have spent too much of your days simply just watching him go on about his work, but it was a habit you had created and that was hard not to do, his simple presence was enough to overwhelm you.

“Good morning, Yn. Haven’t had an easy morning, I see?” he raised his eyebrow at you this time, a playful smiling playing on his face. 

“You too, right?” slipped out of your mouth quicker than you’d wished, almost slapping your face out of sheer frustration.

His head bent to the side, a question forming on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but soon returning to the playful expression you were used to. “I see your detective skills have been improving.”

“I-I just noticed you’re not wearing a t-tie like you usually do and your hair seems messy, that’s all.” you said without pausing for air and his smile only seemed to grow.

“Relax, Yn,” he dragged out. “I just had to stay up till late last night. What’s your excuse?”

“Commuting has been hell. I just moved to a new apartment.” you told him, nodding for absolutely no reason. He didn’t seem pleased with your answer, eagerly waiting for you to continue. “At the Amusement Mile.”

“Amusement Mile?!” he exclaimed. “That’s basically on the other side of the city.”

Yep, you worded, or not. You were not sure.

“And really dangerous, Yn.” he sounded worried. “Make sure to not leave too late, okay?”

“I’ll try.” you replied, but he still didn’t seem pleased. “I promise?”

You were not sure what kind of tone this conversation had. You and Officer Grayson had always been friendly, as he always came by your desk to wish you a good day or night, to bring you coffee as he did with his coworkers, or to ask you about how classes were going and if the internship wasn’t getting in the way of your studies.

It all sounded friendly to you, as if he only saw you as a younger sister or something like that. Sadly to you, that seemed to be a reality. But today, the friendliness sounded less friendly, for some reason, or maybe they were just the voices of hope playing with your mind.

“Good, I’ll have to work now, and I think so do you. Having fun with typing?”

“It really could be worse.” You joked, bringing out a laugh from him, filling your ears and making your heart pump faster.

“Have a nice day, Yn.” 

“You too, officer.” you eagerly replied, watching as he too walked away from you.

Finally sitting down on your chair, you let out a huge sigh, Officer Dreamy, as you kindly nicknamed him to yourself, stuck in your head. You knew it was inappropriate to harvest a crush on a superior at work, but gosh was it hard to.

“And Yn?” his voice startled you. 

“Hmm” you managed to hum as you found his head poking out from behind a wall.

“Call me Dick.”

Lights went off one by one around you, as you still sat on your desk, files of cases long forgotten, while you typed in a class project you were due very soon. 

As life worked conspired to put you down, your laptop had given up on you, deciding that the smokey life was the way to go now and simply choosing not to work ever again. So, you had to stick around the precinct or the library till the wee hours of the night if you wanted to get any uni work done.

“Yn” a voice called you, starling you out of your seat. “Still here?”

Officer Grayson, looking as tired as you must have looked, made his way to your desk. In his hands, some papers you’d come to know were cases he took frequently to study at home.

“I have to finish an essay.” you informed, voice almost not making it out, as you had neglected your health and hadn’t gotten a single sip of water all day.

“What happened to your computer? I remember you bringing one before.”

“Decided to give out smoke signals, I guess.” you joked, managing to steal a smile from him. “It broke, and I’m too broke to fix it, so I have to stay here if I want to finish this essay tonight.”

Your eyes itched from the extensive exposure to the computer lights, your back also causing you discomfort. But you still had work to do, so there was no way you were leaving any time soon, and quickly you returned your attention to your essay ignoring, for once, your favorite male presence in the precinct as you didn’t want to miss the peak of energy and creativity you had gotten to.

As you typed unaware of his lingering presence, Officer Grayson stood by your desk for a while, watching as you swiftly typed word after word of your homework. “You aren’t going to stay here till too late, right?”

“I’m not sure.” you moaned, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hands. “I really have to finish this but I’m not even close.”

Returning your gaze to him, you found his eyes and they bore into your, making your breath get caught up in your throat and your heart to skip a beat. You wanted to focus on your school work and go home, get some much needed sleep before starting your routine all over again, but Dick’s mere presence  pushed away all your academic thoughts.

It was like his body irradiated an energy, a gravity field, that pulled you in from wherever you were. That trapped your attention, leaving you breathless even though you hadn’t run, leaving your head heavy as the most painful headache, leaving you completely, deeply, under his spell.

As you focused on him, you noticed the bags forming under his eyes and his much messier hair, as if he had, and he did, spent hours running his fingers through it as an attempt to concentrate. His clothes were ruffled, and you swore his belt seemed to have been loosed at some point during the day. 

To you, he was like a painting at an art gallery. Exquisite, expensive, beautifully breathtaking… and forever unreachable.

On a scale from one to ten, you were minus forty in the levels of importance inside the department. Nobody really cared for the interns. They were nice and all, but they knew they wouldn’t last long, so why bother connecting, why bother giving them too much attention. And yet, officer Grayson would come over to you, every single day, saying his “his” and “goodbyes”, wishing you a good morning, a good night, a great weekend.

He was truly a being out of this world. A gentleman amongst mere humans, too kind, too sweet for this world, for this city. You often wondered how the hell did he, the son of a billionaire, end up working with the police, and the answered you always came up with was that he must have been the only truly good and altruistic person alive, opting to care for the people instead of being a pretentious heir like many others.

If he had looked over at your computer screen, he’d have found a soup of words that together made zero sense, as your mind couldn’t only write Dick Dick Dick Dick, in both meanings of the word.

“A-hem.” he coughed breaking your awkward stare competition. “I have to get going, Yn. Please don’t stay up too late, and message me when you get home.”

“I don’t have your number.” you mindlessly blurted out.

“I have yours,” he stated, catching you off guard. “I’ll text you. See you tomorrow?” he asked, seeming actually interested in a positive answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“See you, then. Goodbye, Miss Ys.”

“Goodbye, officer.”

It was past midnight when you eventually turned off your computer and headed out of the police department. Sleepiness weighs your body down, making each step a harder task than it should've been.

Saying your goodbyes to the officers working the night shift, many of those telling you to be careful as they feared the dangerous Gotham nights would turn you into one more of its victims, you made your way down the large set of steps, an activity much easier than climbing them in the morning.

As you step into the sidewalk you’re embraced by the darkness. The cold breeze hitting you, making you wrap your jacket tightly around your body, a shield from the freezing weather and the demons of the night. Your bag is glued to your hips and your eyes scanning the area for any strange movement.

You’re glad some of those police officers had been kind enough to teach you how to realize some signs before anything bad happens, applying it to your everyday life as you could never be sure of your surroundings in this city.

When you turned right on the first corner, a moving shadow had your neck hairs up and a shiver running up your spine. Your fight or flight instincts overcoming you as your steps grew faster and faster.

“Yn, wait!” you heard the shadow owner scream, your heart skipping a beat before your mind could make up the situation. It took you a while to figure out who the scream belonged to, the fear blinding your senses and preventing you from forming any type of judgment, but something in you clicked and upon turning around it everything was all made clear.

“Officer Grayson?” you questioned, confused by his appearance as he had gone home almost two hours earlier. He now wore a pair of dark gray or black sweatpants, the faint light hindering your perception, a black t-shirt and a thick overall to shield him from the cold. The tips of his hair dripped with a few droplets of water, and even in the darkness you could make up his red nose gifted by the freezing weather. 

He looked cozy, huggable, like a plushie pillow you hugged to go to bed. This look on him made your chest warm up and you swore you wouldn’t need a jacket soon.

“Why are you following me? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Yn. I thought it’d be better if I didn’t scream, but maybe I was wrong,” he apologized, rushing the words out of his mouth.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here.” you smiled, unable to hide the joy from seeing him again. Your smile made him feel less bad for scaring you, but his eyes still looked into yours like he apologized for it. 

“I didn’t get your text.” he said, his statement confusing you a little. “That you were going home?”

Oh, that! It was your turn to feel bad, your cheeks, if possible for him to see, painted red but not from the coldness.

“I was expecting your text and didn’t get it, so I showered and came here to see if you’d gone home and I found you still in your computer. I was waiting for you to come out.”

YOU WERE WAITING FOR ME?!, you wanted to scream, his words making your head spin, trying to work out the reason why they came out of his pretty lips. The idea of him waiting for god knows how long till you finished your essay making you dizzy.

“It didn’t feel right letting you go home alone at this hour.” he continued to explain, seemingly aware of the questions inside your head. “So I came back after taking a shower to pick you up.”

HE CAME BACK. HE WENT HOME. TOOK A SHOWER, A SHOWER HE PROBABLY, DEFINITELY, TOOK NAKED. AND CAME BACK TO PICK ME UP????

Oh lord, your head was truly spinning and you hoped you weren’t dizzy enough to end up falling and making a fool of yourself. No single sentence was merged in your mind, your lips blurting out whatever overcame them without any filter: “The subway isn’t empty.”

He chuckled at your silly response and reaching for his coat’s pocket, he picked up his car keys, shaking them in front of your eyes. “Are you declining a ride home? Thought you’d love to ride in a Porsche tonight.”

At the sound of “Porsche”, you let out an excited giggle. You always wanted to find out what car Dick drove, a man’s choice of vehicle being a way into understanding his lifestyle and tastes, and not only were you finding out now but you were also getting to ride in it with him.

“I think it’s an offer I can’t really let pass.”

Showing you the way to his car with his head, he let you walk past him, and when you did his hand met your waist as he guided you in its direction. 

It was like you entered into another reality when you crossed the Police Department’s doors, meeting an Officer Dick Grayson that you always dreamed of but never expected to become a reality.

The warm touch of his hand on the small of your back gave you shivers along with a sense of safety not even a room full of police officers had given you. It was different, somehow, in a way you found hard to explain, but that made your heart beat nervously, your breathing to get hectic and your stomach to take turns.

Soon, the silvery car was beside you and the man opened the passenger door for you with his free hand. You thanked him and slid inside the car, the warmed leather seats a comfortable welcome after hours spent on the painful cheap chair by your desk, and when he closed the door you took the few seconds until he was sat beside you to at least try to recollect yourself.

Richard John Grayson isn’t just giving you a ride, he came all the way from his home to do so. You didn’t know where he lives, but it couldn’t be too close. He went out of his way to do that for you, and what that meant frightened you a little.

The warmness of the seats couldn’t compare to what his touch had made you feel. As his hand slid off of your skin you let out a low moan you hoped he didn’t have the time to listen to, already missing the feeling he had given you.

It made you both afraid, nervous and excited, and you couldn’t help the smile from spreading on your lips, even when biting down on them or chewing the insides of your cheeks. You sat still, spine straight and hands resting on top of your bag laid up on your lap, while he calmly walked to the driver’s side, the opposite reflection of how he made you feel.

“Amusement Mile?” he looked at you for confirmation, the engine of the car warming up. Your eyes were glued to his every movement, admiring every single breath he took.

You simply shook your head to answer, biting on your bottom lip in contemplation.

“It’s gonna be a long ride, so make yourself comfortable.” he told you before continuing. “And I almost forgot…”

Reaching for something behind your seat, you felt his breath on your neck, sending more shiver up your spine, a recurring thing tonight. “I got you some soup. To warm up.”

“Wow. Thank you, officer.”

“Yn?” he called you and you hummed, letting him continue. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, remembering the moment you’d shared earlier. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Perfect.” 

Turned just enough to face you, it was his time to bite on his lip, the sight sending your hormones to overdrive. 

The ride was mostly silent, as you both felt comfortable in just each other’s presence. You drank your soup and he drove carefully to not make it spill. He left his playlist on shuffle and you commented on a few surprising tunes.

“I didn’t take you for a reggaeton kind of guy.”

“Hey, I appreciate the sounds of many different cultures!”

 And faster than you had wished for, you two were parked by your front door.

“Thank you, offic… Dick, really. I would have taken at least double the time to arrive by subway, so I really cannot thank you enough for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I’m always here to help, and I wouldn’t sleep well knowing you could be in danger.”

For the 1000th time tonight, your cheeks grew scarlet and you avoided Dick’s eyes. The yawn coming out of you the perfect getaway from the situation you didn’t not know how to handle.

“I better get going, or else I’m just gonna take a nap before having to go back to the precinct all over again.” you sent him a smile before opening the door, but before you stepped outside you felt his hand touch you again, this time reaching for you tight.

“If you want to, I can pick you up tomorrow morning.” his thumb lightly drew patterns in your jeans, and you could feel a hit of sweat on the palm of his hands and the spot on your tight grew humid.

“It would be asking for too much.”

“No it wouldn’t.” he didn’t wait for you to finish. “I’d love to.”

He had your full attention, his eyes trapping yours in a drunken haze. The air around you got thicker, warmer, too hot, as if the winter night was just a mere illusion outside the car. You had sat back in your seat, not sure if the door was open or closed because only him mattered now, only his eyes drifting from yours to your lips, only his tongue moistening his own, only the slow movement of his head getting closer to yours.

You wouldn’t remember the next few seconds even if described to you in the smallest details, you just remember meeting his lips halfway. At first, a hasty kiss, your lips barely moving but already igniting you with an electric feeling. His teeth pulled on your bottom lip, causing a moan to escape off of you.

His hand went to your neck and the kiss deepened, his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, playing with yours as your hands found his waist in search for balance, even though you remained at your seat.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” you cut the kiss, your own mind betraying you with the words that flew out of your mouth. “But I really want to.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn't,” he said, connecting your lips once again. 

He sucked and nibbled at your lips, certainly leaving small bruises on it, but who were you to complain. All night, your anxiousness tried to get the best of you, but his kiss and his touch held you hostage in a passionate haze.

“It’s dangerous to be on the streets this late.” he told you between kisses.

“We can go upstairs.” you offered, wanting to extend the moment as much as you could.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother your roommate.”

“I don’t have a roommate.” you informed, eyes meeting his once more in search of confirmation.

Kissing where your neck met your ears, he whispered. “I’ll park the car.”

“You can leave it right here.” you moaned, desperately wanting to move things inside. He chuckled, pulled you in for another kiss and then quickly jumped out of the car. He followed you as you climbed the stairs to your floor, managing to control himself and stay far enough as to not throw you against the walls and fuck you right then and there, but the gentleman inside of him held him together and he anxiously watched you unlock your apartment door.

You threw your bag somewhere, and walked inside your home aimlessly. You didn’t bring many guys over, so you always struggled to figure out what to do at this point.

“Yn.” you heard Dick calling, spinning on your heels to meet him. 

Throwing his key on a table, he came over to you without wasting time, hands grabbing your face and smashing your lips together for a hotter, wetter, dirtier kiss.

His tongue sucked you yours as your hands traveled on his chiseled torso, sliding inside his shirt for the full experience. You scratch the skin with your nails and he quivered under your touch. “Fuck.” he let out, pushing you against the head of the sofa.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you shortened the distance between your bodies even more and his hands moved down your body, from your back to your ass, to your tight where he grabbed and entangled them around his waist. He placed you on top of the sofa, magically not letting your lips grow apart.

You could feel the bulge on his pants hardening with each touch, so you lowered one hand to cup his member in it’s entirety, but not managing to get a hold of half of it. Shit. You tried to pull at his waistband, but he pushed your hand away. “I’m not wasting time.” he said, taking you off of your seat. “I need to be inside you.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The thought of his words becoming a reality soaking your panties more than they already were, as you had to grind on his clothed crotch to get the friction, the sensation you so desperately needed. You wanted him inside of you now, not a minute later.

“Your room?” he asked.

“First door to the right.” you said, gasping for air between his kisses.

With ease, he walked to your bedroom as if he knew you home by heart, and as if he didn’t carry a girl but just a stuffed toy. His only struggle came at the door handle, but reaching behind you you managed to open it up for him, a group effort for a group pleasure.

Dick let go of your legs, letting your feet hit the floor once again. His hands were quick to find the hem of your shirt, tugging at it before you broke the kiss to allow him to pull it over your head, your bra being ripped off your skin not much later. His shirt and sweatpants flew behind him too in just a few seconds, and he soon had you pinned on the bed, hands trapped by his on top of your head.

Dick had an urgency in him you’d never seen before, more used to his calm demeanor. He grunted on your ear as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide at work, and he grinded his clothed dick on your bare pussy.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting this.” he groaned, one hand grabbing tightly at your boob. “Some days beside you were pure torture.”

You couldn’t imagine an Officer Dreamy having dreams about you, just like you did with him, but from the sound of it, he had plenty. All you could do was moan out his name, his mouth doing magic on your neck as his hands finally reached where you needed him more.

Rubbing slowly at your clit, you tried humping it, wanting it faster, wanting release, but his movements remained slow, torturous. 

“D-dick.” you cried out his name, begging him to speed up his touch.

“Say it again, darling. Say it.” he requested. “Let my fucking name slip out of your dirty little mouth.”

“Dick. Dick, please!” you obeyed, little the silly little slut you were for him. If your friends or coworkers found out about this, they’d be very disapproving, they’d tell you it was wrong to fuck your superior, but fuck it, fuck him you will.

He moaned loudly in your ear and his movements gained speed. He rubbed at your clit harshly, making it bruise, but the pain only added to the growing sensation on your core. He lowered his head and his lip grabbed your nipple, and his sucks were enough to bring you to the edge.

“You came so hard for me, darling.”

Moving away from your skin, setting your hands free, he admired your cum glistening on his hands before bringing them to his mouth and licking it off his finger. “I knew you’d taste fucking delicious.”

This idea of him wanting to fuck you for so long did wonders to your ego and booted any confidence you still had. The man you so desperately wanted for so long had wanted you as desperately for just as long. Your heart beat so fast you were sure he could hear it, but you wanted him too, no secrets lying between you two anymore.

Without you noticing, his boxers were gone and his hard dick bounced on his crotch, the rosy tip, dripping with precum, staining his stomach. Lining up outside your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit just to tease you a little more, his eyes met yours. They trapped you as they did inside the car, but now they didn’t stare at you with simple desire. It burned, it consumed him and needed to find a way to release it. And his way was you.

With no warning, he thrusted into you, his size ripping you open and you let out a scream as you prayed your neighbors were heavy sleepers. Dick, as soon as his member was fully within you, let out a guttural groan, the sexiest moan you’d ever heard come out of a man.

“F-fuck you’re so tight.” he moaned. “Just like I imagined.”

Lying on top of you, he met your lips, he wrapped your fingers in his and slid your hands to the top of your head again. His thrusts were fast, hard, reaching you deeper and deeper, taking out of you a scream louder than the other, only muffled by his mouth that refused to leave yours.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, wanting him to go deeper, if it was even possible, so consumed with lust that all logic melted out of your mind.

It wasn’t a fuck, it was love making, sensual and nearly animalistic love making, and the idea of it made the butterflies in your stomach go feral just as you were. If he loved you or not, even it was even something else more the pure lust, was a discussion for later, but he fucked you like no one else did, and you only hoped it was a sign he was not like the others. That he wasn’t just a single page in a large book.

The wet sound of your skins meeting each other filled the room, but only because your mouths were glued together, all sound not allowed to make it out.

“You’re taking me in so good, aren’t you Yn?”

“Yes, y-yes. You’re filling me so good.” you cried back.

“Are you gonna come on my dick, Yn? Are you gonna let me feel you coming?” he teased, nearly as desperate for your orgasm as you were.

“Yes.” you replied, louder than you’d wished. With a few more thrusts, you came all over his hard dick, your body shaking ferociously, reaching a high you’d never reached before. “Uuh, yes!” you screamed, as he continued to pump into you, his own orgasm imminent.

“I’m gonna come, Yn.” he announced, thrusting once more before taking his member out of your pussy and stroking it up and down with his hands. His milky load hit your belly, painting you in sin, as your tongue extended out for a little drip of it.

Exhausted, Dick threw himself on the bed beside you, both your breath audibly out of pace. Your body was covered in sweat, your bed sheet sticking to your back as you tried your best to recollect yourself.

“Officer McCaffrey would be so disappointed.” you joked, getting a loud laugh out of the man beside you. Crossing his arm over your waist, he pulled you closer to him, kissing the wet baby hairs at your temple.

“Wanna disappoint him again?” he asked, turning your face to meet your eyes, his new found favorite thing to look at.

“All night?” you asked in return.

“All fucking night.”

It was safe to say you were late for work again the next morning, and would be late a few more times, as Officer Dreamy would gladly keep you up for as long as you wished.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson smut

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SIXTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You wake up to a palace conquered.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: the last ba sing se arc chapter 😭😔😩 sorry if this wasn’t what you guys were hoping for but believe it or not this has been the plan from the start 😫

“Now, remember, Y/N,” Quynh said as you glared at the crystal you held in your palm. “Bending crystals is not entirely separate from bending normal rocks. The only difference is that crystals are slippery, slick-surfaced and unwilling to conform. Rocks, like the ones you’ve bent by accident, are malleable. They are agreeable to having their shapes changed. Stones can be bullied; crystals must be coaxed.”

“How am I supposed to coax an inanimate object?” you said, willing the crystal to change into something, anything. You were unsuccessful, though, as it stayed just out of your reach, stubbornly refusing to follow your directives.

“You must abide by the laws of this world,” she said. “Of which there are relatively few. But remember this, Y/N: it will always be more fitting for you to work with something than against it.”

You tried to implement her advice. Instead of envisioning a new crystal in your hand, you pictured each step that the current one would have to take to reach that next form. Then, without thinking of the final product, you bent the crystal to the form which immediately followed its current iteration, and then the form after that, continuing the pattern until you had turned the uncut gem into a glimmering, faceted diamond.

“I did it!” you said.

“Excellent job,” she said. “Do you see? Stones and rocks and dirt are the easy way out, the way which allows for taking shortcuts. With crystals and glass, you can never skip steps. You can speed up your moves until it seems like you are skipping steps, but you never actually can.”

“I do see,” you said. “No wonder most people avoid these more refined materials.”

“If you can become a master with even such delicate things, then nothing bar your own mental fortitude will stop you from true bending prowess,” Quynh said.

“Mental fortitude?” you said.

“Do you think of yourself as an Earthbender?” she said.

If you wanted Kuei to live, then there could only be one answer to this question. “No.”

“Then so it will be,” she said.

From that day onwards, you internalized it, internalized the thought that you could not bend anything but jewels and glass. Eventually, it became a truth of your existence, until your entire identity was built upon your Glassbending, until you could barely even be considered an Earthbender at all.

A week after Aang, Katara, Toph, and Sokka left, you awoke to the sound of screams in the hallway. You shot out of your bed, glancing out the window and affirming that it was still night; when you saw that it was, you wondered what could possibly be the cause of the commotion. It was only when you smelled burning did you realize that something terrible was happening.

Scattered through the kingdom as the army was, it had been impossible for you to consolidate a true force to defend the palace in time, and as most of the soldiers who typically served as your guards had been injured when Aang and his friends had stormed the palace, you had had no choice but to rely on the Dai Li for protection.

There was no doubting that the Dai Li were talented benders, of course, but their primary purpose was never to guard. They were meant to be stealthy enforcers, and entrusting them with the responsibility of protecting the palace had been foolish. A naive decision, based on Prince Zuko’s obsession with the Avatar, which you had so childishly thought meant you were safe from his attentions.

The acrid stench of smoke stung your nose and throat as you shoved on a pair of slippers, all the while cursing the luck which led to you only ever facing these kinds of threats in your nightclothes. The moon was high in the sky, watching you through your window as you rushed about the room, locking the door and then making your way towards your dressing room. If you could reach Quynh’s Den, then you could escape to Ba Sing Se, and from there…

No. If this was what you thought it was, then they would likely execute Kuei, so that they could take over the kingdom unchallenged. Escaping alone was not only the coward’s way, it was the route a fool would take; the best course of action was for you to meet with your brother and usher him to safety first. No matter what, the Earth King had to live. He had to survive. As long as he did, there was hope for the nation.

There was a knock on your door. You stopped moving immediately, waiting and listening, trying to discern who it might be.

“Princess, it’s us. The Dai Li,” said a gruff, masculine voice that you vaguely remembered to have heard before. Your shoulders sagged in relief. So they hadn’t been overwhelmed completely! There was still a chance. One ally was better than none, and for this agent to be knocking on your door so casually, he was likely not alone. Perhaps things were not as dire as they seemed from in your chambers. Relaxing, you ran over to unlock the door.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was so frightened that — that something had happened to you all. What’s the situation?”

“The situation?” the Dai Li agent said. Before you could move, he had Earthbent bindings around your wrists, forcing them behind your back. The rock cuffs were rough, digging into your skin and shredding it open, instead of smooth like they typically were, and he patted you on the shoulder when you yelped in surprise. “The situation is that you killed our Captain Chhay and threw our leader Long Feng into jail. Did you really think that you could still hold a claim to our loyalty after that?”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “You’re sworn to the Earth King!”

“We were,” another agent said, shoving you forwards. “And now, we’re not. The Earth King’s time is over, Princess Y/N, and so is yours.”

“You’re betraying the kingdom?” you said. “For what? For who?”

“The Fire Nation,” the agent who had cuffed you said. “They offered us something far more appealing than the short leash you wrapped around our necks — power. The power to run Ba Sing Se in the way we desire to. In the way it deserves to be.”

“The Fire Nation,” you breathed, stumbling as your head spun at the confirmation of your worst fears. The agent pushing on your back used a stone to prod at your spine for the brief slip. “They’re here?”

“That’s right,” the agent said. “And they’re most interested in meeting you. Aren’t you ever so flattered?”

“How could you do this?” you said instead of responding. “You’ve allied with the very nation trying to take over yours.”

“Didn’t you hear what we were saying? It’s more profitable for us to work with them than against them, and anyways, didn’t Long Feng warn you that you’d regret spurning him? This is that regret. Your final moments will be spent watching your kingdom crumble in the coup orchestrated by the man who once had nothing but your best interests in mind, and then you will be executed by the prince so that he can legitimize his claim on the throne,” he said with a shrug.

For some reason, though he had said so much, you could only focus on one particular detail: executed. The prince. Lee, or Prince Zuko, or whoever he was…he meant to execute you. He meant to kill you with his own hands. The person you had loved so much that you had allowed him entry to the palace was betraying you like this. He was going to execute you, and all for a throne, for the jurisdiction of a kingdom that would never accept him as their own.

You rounded the corner to a long hallway that housed the tapestries of your ancestors, the many faces which made up your bloodline. Your father’s likeness was there, hanging between your grandfather’s and Kuei’s, smiling down benevolently at his onlookers, his eyes sparkling even through the static image.

You had always loved staring at that tapestry in particular. Sometimes, looking up at it was enough for you to recall, dimly, memories of a man you had never met. Perhaps they were more aptly considered fantasies, ones of growing up while he was alive, sitting in his lap as he read you stories, wobbling after him as you learnt to walk and showing him the glass sculptures you made with your bending.

This time, too, you stared at him as you walked past, though the only thing you could think of was that you were going to face the same fate that he had. No matter that you had tried to escape it. No matter that you had run from the assassination attempts in Ba Sing Se. No matter that you had killed Captain Chhay in your chambers. No matter that you had exposed Long Feng’s treachery to Kuei. It was your destiny to be crossed. Just as your father had been murdered by someone who ought to have been loyal to him, you, too, would be destroyed by a person who you could not help but love.

Kuei was already in the throne room, kneeling on the ground, his head held down by the Dai Li agent who had replaced Chhay as the Captain. The new Captain grinned when he saw you, and then he jerked his head towards the spot beside Kuei.

The two agents escorting you pressed on your shoulders until you, too, knelt, though you did not bow your head, nor were you asked to. Subjugating a princess did not have the same gravitas as subjugating a king, after all.

“You,” you snarled when you saw who was positioned in front of the throne, in the same place that Long Feng used to always occupy. It was the same now. You could never stand up there with the rest of them. Regardless of who it was, you would always, always be below them.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “I — I know that you’re probably confused, but—”

“I’m not confused at all,” you said. “I know exactly who you are, Prince Zuko.”

His eyes widened, like he had not been expecting that, like he had expected a different reaction. “You do? How?”

“How does it matter? you said.

“Actually, I’d like to know, as well,” Kuei said from where his eyes were still trained on the carpet. “Are the two of you acquainted or something?”

“No,” you said.

“Yes,” Prince Zuko said at the same time.

“I don’t know you,” you said. “I knew a different person. A better one. He would never have done this to me.”

“You don’t understand,” Prince Zuko said. “I have to!”

“Says who?” you said.

“My father!” he said. “This is all I have left to do. I just have to hold the Earth Kingdom while my sister hunts down the Avatar, and then…and then I can go home.”

Your mind struggled to reconcile the two versions of him you were presented with. Was this the same boy you had argued about books with over tea? The same boy who had donned a mask and saved you from Captain Chhay’s attacks? The same boy who had always protected you without question? It could not be. That boy would never look down his nose at you the way Prince Zuko was now. That boy would never order your arrest the way Prince Zuko had. He would never make you kneel at his feet.

But he must’ve been the same person. There was only one reason you could say that with certainty: he was here, in the palace. He had found Quynh’s Door, which meant you loved him. That meant that Zuko and Lee and the Blue Spirit really were three aliases for one horrible, twisted being.

“Get on with it, then,” you said. “Kill me. Kill my brother.”

“Or don’t!” Kuei shrieked, shrinking away from the Captain’s touch.

“That’s your plan, isn’t it? You’re going to execute us so that nobody dares to dream of rebelling against the Fire Nation occupation. Without Kuei or his heir around, your coup will go uncontested. I know you know that already, so why are you procrastinating? You have us surrounded by Dai Li and Fire Nation soldiers alike, so get on with it,” you said.

You would get to see your parents. It was the only positive you could glean from the entire affair. If you were killed, then your mother, your father…you would get to see them.

“Do you want to do the honors yourself, your royal highness?” the Captain of the Dai Li said. You scowled. Your royal highness — he only ever should’ve called you that.

You had spent so long admiring the prince’s face that it was all but a habit at this point. Even now, you could not help yourself from slipping into it, gazing at him until your eyesight grew blurry from tears, your lip trembling from the strain of holding them back.

This was your fault. This was your fault. This was your fault. Your fault your fault your fault.

“You must think of me as a great fool,” you said. “To have fallen for your scheme so readily. I all but handed you the kingdom on a platter.”

“I don’t think that,” Prince Zuko said, swallowing, his expression softening for only a second before hardening immeasurably. “Look, can’t you just — just take her away? Put her in some jail cell or something! The king, too. We can deal with them later. For now, I don’t want to bother with them.”

“As you wish, sir,” the Captain said. “Do you want the Soldiers of Agni guarding her, or will it be alright if we use our own methods?”

“I don’t care,” Prince Zuko said. “Just as long as I don’t have to see her.”

Of course he didn’t. And why would he? He had never loved you. Everything had been a lie. He had been pretending. He just needed you to fall in love with him so that he could find Quynh’s Door. He just needed that foolproof method to enter the palace. Beyond that, what even were you to him? An irritation? A girl he despised? If you hadn’t told him that myth, would he ever have treated you as kindly as he had?

“We’ve been looking forward to this,” the Dai Li told you as you reached the royal crypt beneath the palace. “I don’t think the world’s ever hated a pair of royals as much as it hates the two of you.”

There was no point in fighting back, not when there were so many of them, so you could only shiver and squeeze your eyes shut as your back was pressed to Kuei’s. Stone rings encircled you two, tying you together to the point of near-asphyxiation.

“What are you doing?” Kuei wheezed. “What is the meaning of this?”

Please. Someone. Anyone. Father. Mother. Quynh. What is happening? Please help.

You were so cold, even though Kuei was so warm. You were freezing, in fact. You thought that you might die just from that.

Stone walls were erected around you, so close that it was as if you were standing in a coffin. There was the tiniest hole near the top to allow you to breathe, but other than that, there was nothing. You could not move even if you wanted to. You could barely see. For all intents and purposes, you had been buried alive.

“You wanted to be remembered as someone who loved his sister?” the Captain of the Dai Li said. “Let’s see how much you love her after this!”

“Let us go! I demand you let us go this instant!” Kuei screamed. “Hey! On my authority as the Earth King, I order you to free us! Free us, and you won’t be punished!”

“Good luck, Earth King,” another agent said. “I hope your meaningless title helps you in there.”

“No,” Kuei said. “No, get back here! Get back here, treasonous vermin!”

“Kuei,” you murmured once the Dai Li agents’ footsteps faded into the background and you were sure you were alone. “Calm down, brother. You are wasting your strength.”

“Calm down? What about this situation invites calm, sister? Do tell me!” he screeched.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “This is my fault. I know that, and I will do everything in my power to make it right.”

“Your fault? How can that be?” he said.

“I’m the one who let Prince Zuko into the palace,” you said, and then your silent tears turned into sniffles that grew into sobs. “Kuei, Kuei, it’s all my fault. Please hate me. Please abhor me, brother. It is my doing that has led to all of this.”

“How did you accomplish that?” he said, all annoyance vanished in favor of concern.

“Quynh’s Door,” you said. “Listen, I know you’ve never believed in her, but she’s real. She’s a spirit I’ve been visiting since my youth, and all of the stories about her are true, too.”

“But for him to have found Quynh’s Door means…” Kuei trailed off in horror.

“Yes,” you said. “I fell in love with him during the time I spent in Ba Sing Se. I am the world’s stupidest girl, and now the entire kingdom will pay for my error. You will pay for my error. It’s not fair. If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”

“There’s no point in assigning blame,” Kuei said. “We’re stuck here. They left us that hole so that we could breathe, but my guess is that it’s only to extend our suffering. They’ll wait until we’re weak and hungry and dehydrated, and then they’ll execute us.”

Was this the way things would end? Was there nothing left that you could do for your kingdom? Would you spend the rest of your life in this cage, leaving only at the moment you were to be executed by Prince Zuko?

“If only one of us was an Earthbender,” he groused. “Thanks a lot, mother! Father! Shan! What a load of good your bloodline did us!”

“What did you just say?” you said. He scoffed.

“What, religious piety wasn’t enough for you, so you’re taking up the filial sort now, too? Who cares if I’m being disrespectful? We’re going to die surrounded by our own element!” he said.

“Our own element…” you murmured. “Kuei. Stay very still.”

“There’s not much else I can do,” he said.

You remembered something Quynh had told you when you had first learnt to bend crystals. Stones can be bullied. Bullying was not in your nature, but what choice did you have? This was your own element. This was your birthright. You were not the princess of the Glass-and-Crystal Kingdom; you were Princess Y/N, of the Earth Kingdom.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the earthen walls around you, imploring them to recede, wheedling and cajoling them to back away so that you and Kuei could escape.

Nothing happened. You considered giving up, but if you gave up now, then it was as good as signing your own death order. Your own, and also Kuei’s. Taking a deep breath, you allowed only two sensations to wash over your body: the warmth of your brother’s back against yours, and the solidity of the ground under your feet.

You did not cajole or wheedle or implore anymore. There was no place for politeness or weakness. You had to command. You did not have to convince the stone — you had to demand it bow to your will.

There was the grating sound of rock-on-rock, and then the walls surrounding you and Kuei crumbled into nothingness. The stone restraints followed suit, and you heaved for breath, your muscles aching from the atypical exertion, though not unbearably.

“What just happened?” Kuei said. You slapped his arm.

“Keep it down. We have to escape,” you said.

“What just happened?” he repeated, though he was thankfully quieter this time.

“I’m an Earthbender,” you said casually, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you as you ran towards the exit of the crypt.

“You’re a what? Since when?” he said.

“Shh! Do you want to get caught or something?” you said. “And since birth, duh.”

“Forgive me for being confused,” he said sardonically. “It’s not as though you’ve appeared to be a nonbender for your entire life or anything! Oh, wait.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, that was a lie. I kept it a secret from everyone.”

“Right, I picked up on that,” he said. “What I’m asking you is why? Why would you hide that? It would’ve been the kingdom’s greatest joy to finally have an Earthbender of Shan’s line again! It — it would’ve been my greatest joy, to know you could protect yourself!”

“They would’ve killed you!” you snapped, though you immediately swore when you realized you had been too loud. Looking around to make sure no one had heard you, you sighed in relief and continued to run. “Listen, I learned I could bend when I was a young girl. Around that time, I heard your advisors saying that, if I was proven to be an Earthbender, they’d kill you and instate me as a ruler instead. I couldn’t let it happen like that, okay?”

“Huh?” he said.

“You can’t die,” you said. “As long as I am there, as long as I have a say, you won’t die. It was within my power to hide my bending, so that’s what I did.”

“Y/N…you gave up such a large piece of your identity for me?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “I’d give up more, too. You’re the only one I have left, Kuei, or maybe it’s that you’re the only one I’ve ever had. Anyways, I learnt my own version of the art from Quynh, so I’ve really not given up as much as you think I have.”

He twisted his hand so that he was holding yours instead of the other way around, and then he squeezed tightly. You knew that what he really wanted was to embrace you, but there was no time for that. Still, turning your face away from his, you smiled slightly at the acknowledgement.

“Thank you, sister. Knowing this, I feel terrible for saying this, but — but I have to. We can’t escape,” he said.

“What? Why not?” you said.

“They locked Bosco away in my chambers,” he said. “The last I heard, the Fire Lord is going to — he’s going to — it’s so unthinkable, I can barely bring myself to say it, but he’s going to eat him!”

“Uh, sorry?” you said. “Fire Lord Ozai wants to eat Bosco?”

“Yes, and I can’t let that happen! Unless you agree to help me rescue Bosco, I won’t go,” he said.

You almost argued with him, but then you thought about what he was saying, really thought about it, and you found yourself agreeing with him, though for a different reason. It wasn’t that you were attached to Bosco; rather, you saw Fire Lord Ozai’s intentions for what they truly were.

Bosco was a creature made in Quynh’s image, and even if the people of Ba Sing Se resented him for how much money Kuei had wasted on his upkeep, it was undeniable what the symbolism would be if Fire Lord Ozai consumed him. It would represent the Fire Nation’s destruction of Quynh and Shan and everything they stood for, and even though it put you and your brother in more danger, you could not allow that.

“Alright,” you said. “We’ll get him first.”

“Seriously?” he said.

“We were heading to my chambers, anyways. It’s not that much of a detour,” you said, ducking behind a pillar as a pair of Dai Li agents walked past you. Hidden away in the shadows as you were, you escaped their notice, but it had been a close enough call that your heart did not stop racing for many minutes.

“Why your chambers? The window is too high. Even with your Earthbending, it’s a suicidal method of escape,” he said.

“We’re not escaping through the window,” you said, taking advantage of the relatively clear coast to dart through the hallway and round the corner into the wing of the palace where the royal rooms were located. “There’s a door to Quynh’s Den that’s usually present in my dressing room. From there, we can reach the city and then gather allies to help us retake the palace before too much damage is done.”

“Quynh’s Den — so that’s how you kept escaping!” he said.

“Er, yes, I thought you’d have put that together by now,” you said as you reached Kuei’s rooms. There were soldiers milling about in front of the polished wood doors, but that was not the route you chose to take. Instead, you placed your palm on the wall and gritted your teeth, straining until the earth parted in an archway large enough for you to enter.

Bosco was restrained in the center of the room, a gag forced in his mouth so that he posed no threat to his nonexistent keepers. When he noticed you and Kuei, his ears pricked up, and he nudged Kuei happily in greeting as you untied the gag. Kuei held his fingers to his lips, and to his credit, Bosco followed the directive and remained silent all of the way until you reached your dressing room.

Thankfully, the door was there. Kuei was the one to open it, the glow of the crystals reflecting on his glasses eerily, his eyes shining as he stared down the passage.

“I’ve seen this before,” he breathed. “Maybe in a dream, or maybe not. But I know I have.”

“Good, then you’ll know the way,” you said. “Let’s get moving before we’re caught.”

“Quynh’s Den,” Kuei murmured, stepping into the passageway. “I can’t believe it’s real. I can’t believe I’m finally going to see it.”

You grinned at him. Only he could find some positive in these dire circumstances, and though some might claim it to be immature, you admired him for it, admired his unflinching optimism and unwavering faith and unquenchable curiosity.

For all of these years, you had been unfair to him. Quynh was right — he wasn’t a bad king. He was a good king; his flaw was that he was also a premature one, but you had confidence that with time, he would become the person that the kingdom needed.

For the final time, you gazed out at your undisturbed room, which was as peaceful as it always was. Just in that instant, it didn’t feel like there was a coup, like you and Kuei were fleeing for your lives. Just in that instant, it instead felt like you were going to visit Lee and Mushi in the tea shop for the night, like you always used to.

Right before you were about to follow after your brother, a thought crossed your mind. Pausing and then drawing back, you frowned, unable to shake the dread clawing up your throat.

“Kuei,” you said. “They came for you earlier, right?”

“Hm? Yes, they did,” he said, pausing in the middle of the passage, stopping Bosco as well. “Why? What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“The servants,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“The servants, brother, what did they do to the servants?” you said insistently. The ones who had kept your bath filled. The ones who swept your floors. The ones who made your bed. The ones who cooked your meals and maintained your gardens…what about them? Not all of them stayed at the palace overnight, but some did. Enough did.

Kuei scowled. “They’ve all been tied up in the kitchens. I don’t know why.”

You knew why. Maybe not exactly, but there were only a few possibilities: they would either torture the servants for information about the kingdom, they’d send them to the Fire Nation as prisoners, or they’d kill them en masse.

There wasn’t even a decision to make. What was a princess without a kingdom to rule, without subjects to love her? As well, it was your fault that they were in this danger to begin with.

“I have to go save them,” you said.

“Eh?” he said. “I must’ve misheard you.”

“You didn’t,” you said. “You go ahead, Kuei. You’re the king, so you have to make it out of here. I’ll rescue the servants, and then I’ll come too, okay? No, don’t argue. You can’t change my mind.”

He knew better than to even try when you had made such a declaration, so he only sighed.

“Where should we meet?” he said. “In Quynh’s Den?”

“No,” you said. “There’s a place in the Lower Ring known as the Firelight Fountain. If I do not catch up with you before you leave, then go there and wait for me.”

Kuei swallowed and then nodded at you. “Alright. I will see you there.”

“Yes,” you said. “I wish you luck, brother.”

“And I, you.”

With that, you turned your backs on one another, the door slamming shut as you tore off towards the kitchens and he continued towards Quynh’s Den.

The closer you got to the kitchens, the more guards you barely avoided, but somehow, you managed, and then you were in the darkened kitchens themselves, where the servants had been detained. There were so many of them that you knew you would have to take multiple trips or risk discovery, so picking a section at random, you began to untie the ropes around them.

“It’s me, Princess Y/N,” you repeated as you worked. “I’ve come to save you. Do exactly as I say, and you will live. Make a sound, and you will die.”

It was the most exhausting work of your life, equally as tedious as it was thrilling. The palace employed nearly a thousand servants, but thankfully there was nowhere near that number in the kitchens. Still, you must’ve freed close to a hundred people, doing away with the ropes and then sneaking them back to your room and instructing them to use one of Quynh’s doors to escape back to Ba Sing Se.

Finally, you were down to the final ten people. One of the boys was younger than the rest — he must’ve been new, the poor thing, and you were gentler with him than the others, wiping away his tears and hushing him kindly, taking your time to undo the knots which had rubbed away the skin of his wrists.

It was a mistake. What time did you have for kindness? You should’ve known better, but it was a pattern. You would always be kind. It would always get you in trouble.

“Princess Y/N! Look out!” the boy said as soon as you had removed the cloth stuffed in his mouth. It was the only warning you got; your eyes widened at it, and without even thinking, you dug in your pocket and smashed a statue of a dragon against the ground, bending the fragments as you turned, using half of them to dispel the licking flames that barely missed singing your clothes and sending the other half into the necks and eyes of the intruders.

They were Fire Nation, not Dai Li, and judging by their fancy uniforms, they were none other than the Soldiers of Agni, the most elite Firebenders outside of the royal family. You had no idea how Prince Zuko had managed to get them into Ba Sing Se, but of course, that was how your fortune had been going as of late, so you did not question it.

“Run!” you urged the others, clasping the boy’s hand with your own and taking off, motioning for everyone to follow you. “To my chambers! It won’t be long before more of them come for us.”

“Princess Y/N, you — you killed those men?” one of the older servants, a woman who you thought did the laundry, said.

“If I had not, then they would’ve killed me,” you said, breaking another one of the statues you had brought with you, using the knife-like edges to slice the throats of the Dai Li agents that you knew were stationed around the corner. There was no sense in hiding, not anymore; now, the goal was to make it to your room as fast as possible. “This is just what we have to do.”

“I didn’t realize you were capable of it, your royal highness,” one of the cooks said. “Or that you were concerned about us all enough to come back.”

“By what decree is my life worth more than anyone else’s?” you said. “My strength is yours, as yours is mine. I could never leave my people behind, not when I had a way to save them.”

The servants had never cared much for you before, had likely never even seen you before, but in the process of saving their lives, you believed that you might’ve earned something resembling their respect, too.

“I know that my brother and I were never popular as rulers,” you said as you reached your chambers, the door locking behind you as you made your way to your dressing room. “But I promise that we will change things. I will change things. I will put an end to the hardships that you all have endured for far too long.”

“Thank you, Princess Y/N,” a maid said. “I — I’m really grateful to you, your royal highness.”

“It is my duty,” you said. “Do not hesitate any longer; go through the door and follow the passageway until you reach the bear spirit, Quynh. She will help you escape to Ba Sing Se.”

“Quynh is real?” the small boy said, pressing into your side and peering up at you.

“She is,” you said. “I know, it sounds like I’m making things up, but it’s truly the case. Not only is she real, but she’s our only chance at escaping, so we must make haste.”

The remaining servants filed into the passageway, and you exhaled as all but the boy faded from sight. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now. You had done it. You were safe.

There was a bang against the door. Another, and another. Fear shot through your veins as you realized that they were trying to break in. They had caught on to the fact that you were running to your room, though you had no idea what they thought they’d find when they smashed through.

“Come on,” you said, ushering the boy in and stepping in yourself, about to close the door behind you when there was a splintering sound, accompanied by the smell of smoke lacing the air. The Soldiers of Agni had arrived, and it was only a matter of seconds before they entered and found the door you had been using to escape.

Time passed differently in Quynh’s realm. Slower. You knew that. You had always known that, but until now you had not understood what it actually meant: you were doomed, and you had been from the start. They would find the door, and they would follow you, and they would catch you, and from there, they would kill you. That was how it was always meant to be. You had not saved anyone; you had only prolonged their misery.

It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. With this mantra echoing in your head, you made a split-second decision. Crouching so that you were eye-level with the boy, you ruffled his hair.

“Listen, dear boy,” you said. “When you reach Quynh’s Den, I want you to tell Quynh to close this door, alright?”

“Why won’t you tell her?” he said, the smell of smoke intensifying even as you spoke.

“I’m not going,” you said. This was your atonement. This was the only thing you could do for your country, your people, your brother. This was the way you right the wrongs you had inadvertently wrought.

“What? What do you mean?” he said.

“There isn’t much time,” you said. “After you tell Quynh that, go to the Firelight Fountain in the Lower Ring and tell King Kuei to find the Avatar. Make sure he knows the message is from me…and that he knows I love him.”

“I won’t go unless I know you’re safe, princess,” the boy said obstinately, tugging on your sleeve. “Let’s go together and you can tell your brother these things yourself.”

You held the boy’s face in your hands and leaned forwards, kissing his forehead before straightening.

“Thank you for your concern, but when did I say that I was not escaping at all? I have another route,” you said.

“What other route?” he said.

Turning, you exited the passageway, looking over your shoulder at him and mustering as bright of a smile as you could, praying it was convincing enough.

“I’ll leave through the window,” you said. He was too young to know what that meant, and you did not give him the chance to think about it, slamming the door shut before he could respond and then reentering your chambers proper, right as the Soldiers of Agni broke through.

“Princess Y/N,” one of them said.

“Yes,” you said. “I would give you a proper welcome, a good one, but seeing as you have broken into my palace, I am not so inclined to. I swear I am a better host to those who are better guests.”

“Where is the Earth King? What about the rest of the servants?” another Soldier said.

“I don’t know,” you said, lying with an effortless ease, like you were swallowing honey and oil, using it to coat your every word with a smooth reliability. “Where indeed? You should’ve been keeping a closer eye on the gates.”

They moved in perfect formation, every step according to some unheard rhythm, their advancement a musical dance as they encroached upon you. You matched them like the partner to their sum total, backing away, closer and closer to your dresser of glass sculptures.

“We’re not supposed to harm you too terribly unless we’re absolutely forced to,” a Soldier said. “So how about you surrender and make things nice and easy?”

“Who would command you to not hurt your enemy?” you said.

“For some reason, Prince Zuko says it’s imperative that you remain uninjured,” he said. “Princess Azula told us to follow his orders while she chases the Avatar, so we’ll do as he commands for the time being.”

“Interesting,” you said, lip curling with distaste at the thought of Prince Zuko. “Unfortunately, I have no such holdbacks.”

The glass sculptures broke into thousands of little daggers, flying at the Soldiers of Agni faster than they could react. Thus began your final stand, the last thing you could do for the Earth Kingdom.

Glancing to the side, you saw that the door in your dressing room had not yet vanished. All you had to do was survive until it did. After that, it didn’t matter, but until that point, you could not die.

The Soldiers of Agni moved as one, creating a wall of fire to melt the glass, though a few made it past and gouged into them anyways. You were not deterred by the liquified state of your weapons; purposefully slowing your rapid breathing, you made a wave of burning, glowing glass surge towards them, scorching wherever it spattered, searing through armor and fabric and flesh alike.

Still, the door had not disappeared. The Soldiers of Agni sent coordinated bursts of fire at you, and this time you pulled the wave towards you. It rose up just in time, absorbing the heat of the fire meant for you, and then you condensed it before shooting it back towards them.

It was a push and pull, but they had the advantage. Better training. Better weapons. Their fire blazed at a higher temperature than any you had ever encountered, and eventually, your glass could not handle it, melting beyond the point of control, dripping through the floors and steaming into the air.

You were backed into a corner, but when you looked over at your dressing room, you could not help but smirk. The door was gone. Kuei was safe. Though you had been rendered defenseless, you had done your job. The Earth King would live.

Yet, defenseless though you were, there was a resolve brewing deep within you, too. Even if you could not win, you did not want the Soldiers of Agni to attain victory, either. You did not want them to succeed, to think that they had gotten one over you. If the only path forward was for you to die, then you wanted them to die, too.

“What will you do now, princess?” a Soldier said. You reached out with your bending and shattered the window, using the glass to cut away at their already-damaged flesh, holding your hands in front of you as they retaliated. Some used Firebending; others simply kicked the glass back, like they found amusement in your feeble struggles.

At Captain Chhay’s hands. At their hands. At Prince Zuko’s hands. No, none of these were ways that you were willing to suffer defeat. It would be on your own terms. Maybe you had run out of glass, but there was something else you had come to comprehend over the course of the night: the entire palace was a weapon, and you were the only one left who could wield it.

“The only thing I can do,” you said. “I am the Glass Princess, am I not? So, I will shatter, and you will be caught in the aftermath.”

You knew even as you slapped your palms against the walls that you would not survive this. If by some miracle the impact did not kill you immediately, then you would surely sustain such terrible injuries that you would not survive without treatment — treatment which would not be forthcoming, because no one knew where you were. No one knew what you were doing. In your final moments, now that everything had been said and done, you were alone.

Would your father and mother be proud of you? Would Quynh and Shan? You hoped Quynh would not grieve for very long. Even if she did not know how it had happened, you hoped she would see that it had been the only way, that you had been afraid, but notwithstanding, had done it bravely.

Because what was your life in comparison to Kuei’s? To the lives of your people? It was so little. It was the smallest price to pay. And, if you could take out all of the Soldiers of Agni in one fell swoop, then it was no loss at all.

You did not bully the stones of the palace. You did not need to; this palace, which had been built by your ancestor and upon Quynh’s Den, was your home, your birthright, and so the magic imbued in its construction jumped alive at the chance to help you. You only needed to think one thing for it to oblige, the room shaking and rumbling with a sound like mourning as the entire wing you were in collapsed — on you, yes, but also on the Soldiers of Agni, in an implosion that was not so different from embossing a window after all.

Palace, I command you to fall.

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#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[secretmellowblog]

One thing I feel people almost always overlook about Javert is that:

The book’s narrator is usually harsh/sarcastic towards Javert, and that harshness is why his character has pathos. Javert is able to be sympathetic because Victor Hugo has basically no respect for his beliefs. Javert is so pitiable because Hugo mocks and drags him on basically every page he appears.

I’ve mentioned before that the message of Les Mis is (paraphrasing) that ACAB— Javert is the best police officer it is possible to be, and he is terrible, because the laws he enforces are terrible. His law & order ideology is terrible. Everything he believes is fundamentally wrong, and so deeply wrong that it deserves no respect.

Yes, Hugo acknowledges that Javert occasionally has a misguided kind of nobility— the nobility of holding yourself honestly to a set of bad rules, the nobility of following a terrible moral code even when it hurts you. But Hugo has no respect for Javert���s bigotry, or his bootlicking, or his deranged obsessive worship of law and order. Hugo portrays the way that Javert martyrs himself for his ideology as strangely honorable— but the ideology itself is mocked and condemned. Hugo thinks martyrdom is cool, but that Javert is martyring himself for a terrible cause.

In his most sympathetic moments, Javert’s worldview is portrayed as pitiable…. not a worldview that’s worthy of true total genuine respect, but a worldview that’s deeply pathetic in its wrongness.

Without himself suspecting the fact, Javert in his formidable happiness was to be pitied, as is every ignorant man who triumphs.

This is part of why those old 2012-era les mis fanfics always threw me off, if anyone remembers the fandom trends at the time. XD People used to write Valjean and pre-barricades Javert having political debates, as if the two of them could make arguments about law that were equally valid and worthy of respect, and pre-barricades Javert had a worthwhile set of beliefs that Valjean could learn from. But to me it’s personally kinda like, no XD. Nah. The whole thing about pre-barricades Javert is that he does not have any valid points to make. He has nothing resembling a point. He is “ignorant” and determined to stay that way because he literally believes that thinking is evil. He is a violent authoritarian whose worldview is just “mindless self-destructive bootlicking and bigotry.” I joked about it in a previous post but if we want a character who offers a genuinely meaningful counterpoint to Valjean’s philosophy, who could debate him on politics, and who could represent justice while Valjean represents mercy— that character is Enjolras, not Javert.

Valjean has a fascinating complicated relationship with law and politics and violence, but Javert is just a deeply pitiable brainwashed creature who martyrs himself for Wrong things.

Hugo pities Javert, but he does not treat Javert’s worldview --‘authority is always right, rigid social hierarchies must always be enforced, human life has no intrinsic value, the police must violently suppress any kind of crime or rebellion’— as something that deserves to be genuinely respected. It is not something that’s even worthy of debate. It is wrong, it is nonsense, it is an incoherent cruel self-contradicting ideology, and Javert only believes it because (to quote Hugo’s sarcastic narration) “thought was something to which he was unused.” (Or to be more charitable, Javert believes these terrible things because he was born inside a prison and has been brainwashed from birth into internalizing a cruel carceral view of the world.)

And I think Hugo generally does a good job of walking that tightrope — having pity for Javert without portraying Javert’s ideology as something worthy of genuine admiration. He sympathizes with how rigidly Javert holds himself to his own moral code, while condemning the moral code itself for being idiotic. He has empathy with Javert’s sincere self-destructive dedication to what he believes in, while pointing out the things he believes in are all stupid. He pities Javert’s martyrdom, while condemning the nonsense that Javert martyrs himself for.

One of my Top Ten Favorite Pathetic Javert Moments is this one, when Javert recognizes Marius’s body after the barricades:

A spy of the first quality, who had observed everything, listened to everything, and taken in everything, even when he thought that he was to die; who had played the spy even in his agony, and who, with his elbows leaning on the first step of the sepulchre, had taken notes.

Because Javert martyrs himself so earnestly for this terrible cause! He “takes notes” even when he believes he’s going to die and the notes cannot possibly be of any use to anyone, simply because taking notes is the thing he has been ordered to do. He’s so self-destructively dedicated to performing these useless pointless tasks because he believes there is real ~dignity~ to his mindless bootlicking— when there isn’t.

That’s why Javert’s emotional breakdown and suicide hit so hard for me, in a way that it wouldn’t if the narration was forgiving towards his stupid belief system. The contrast between Javert’s sheer pathetic terror and the often harsh/sarcastic narration is just….wild. It makes Javert sympathetic without making his awful ideology seem good, reasonable, or valuable. (And while this is only adjacent to the point I’m making- the harsh narration in Derailed also emphasizes the way Javert has been trained to view his own thoughts/emotions with contempt.) Javert is deeply pitiable/sympathetic without his ideology being framed as correct. And the whole tragedy of his character comes from the fact that he is utterly entirely wrong.

If I were to summarize the pathos of Javert, I wouldn’t say “he’s sympathetic because he’s a noble anti-hero with good strong morals who makes some valuable points about the importance of law” or w/e. I’d say that you can feel sorry for him because he’s a wretched brainwashed creature who’s never done anything right even though he wants to, and is deeply ridiculously pathetic without ever realizing it.

As Hugo puts it: “without himself suspecting the fact, Javert (…) was to be pitied.”

#send an ask if you want to know my other top ten favorite pathetic javert moments! #les mis #XD #it’s javert death day so I decided to make an overlong tumblr post for him #a very Vintage Mellow thing to do #but yeah #people always say I hate javert because I mock and drag him all the time #but like!!! #the reason javert is sympathetic is because Hugo’s always mocking and dragging him #I love it #that’s my take anyway #he’s just a horrible Creature #my complicated emotional relationship with javert #but yeee idk if this is coherent XD

[gunsandspaceships]

Recruiting Peter in Civil War: a War Crime?

Today we are going to review this statement:

Tony “blackmailed a teenager to help fight his battles for him (Civil War) (which for the record, constitutes as a fucking war crime)”.

Part 1. Not a war crime: check my post about war crimes here. War crime is a crime committed during a war, by a party of the conflict.

MCU's “Civil War” was not a war. It was a conflict between a few people, that included one fight and a chase. The fight at the end of the movie between Tony and Steve with Bucky was not a part of this particular conflict, but a conflict on its own. From the government’s side, this situation was a law enforcement operation to capture a group of fugitives, where Tony’s side represented the law enforcement group under U.N. authority, not a nation’s armed forces.

The definition of Armed Forces: “the combined military, naval, and air forces of a nation”.

Source

In comics (Earth 616) it was indeed a war, but not in the MCU. That’s first.

Second, “Under the Statute of the International Criminal Court, conscripting or enlisting children into armed forces or groups constitutes a war crime in both international and non-international armed conflicts (ICC Statute, Article 8(2)(b)(xxvi) and (e)(vii)).”

Tony did not enlist Peter in the armed forces or the Avengers.

And third, “The bans on recruitment of children below the age of 15 enshrined in Article 77 of  Additional Protocol I, and in Article 4 of Additional Protocol II are also considered to prohibit accepting voluntary enlistment (P I, Art. 77 (2); P II, Art. 4(3)(c)).”

“2. The Parties to the conflict shall take all feasible measures in order that children who have not attained the age of fifteen years do not take a direct part in hostilities and, in particular, they shall refrain from recruiting them into their armed forces. In recruiting among those persons who have attained the age of fifteen years but who have not attained the age of eighteen years, the Parties to the conflict shall endeavour to give priority to those who are oldest.” (Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, Art. 77 (2)).

Here we got to an actual error from the SMFFH filmmakers’ side. Before SMFFH Peter’s age at the time of Civil War was planned to be 15 (see directors’ and screenwriters’ commentaries). In SMFFH Peter’s birthday was set to Aug 10, 2001, making him 14 years old at the time of Civil War. We cannot use random date placements made by SMFFH creators to define serious stuff, and also use another movie’s filmmakers’ decisions that were made after Civil War. So we must go with the fact that at the time of Civil War Peter was 15 years old, as was stated by the creators of CA:CW.

Conclusion: Peter was 15 years old, and if he were recruited to participate in a war, it would not be a war crime. But, he also was not enlisted in the armed forces. And Civil War was not an actual war, but a law enforcement operation under UN jurisdiction. So, yes, Tony is not a war criminal. Again. Very disappointing.

If you guys have any other ideas of how to accuse him of war crimes – go ahead. I’ll check them all.

#tony stark #iron man #mcu #marvel #the avengers #captain america civil war #peter parker #spiderman

[probablyasocialecologist]

“The ‘war on drugs’ may be understood to a significant extent as a war on people. Its impact has been greatest on those who live in poverty, and it frequently overlaps with discrimination directed at marginalised groups, minoritiesand Indigenous Peoples. In our reporting and experience, we have found that such discriminatory impact is a common element across drug policies with regard to the widest range of human rights, including the right to personal liberty; freedom from torture, ill-treatment and forced labour; fair trial rights; the right to health, including access to essential medicines, palliative care, comprehensive drug prevention and education, drug treatment, and harm reduction; the right to adequate housing; freedom from discrimination and the right to equal treatment before the law; right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment; cultural rights and freedoms of expression, religion, assembly and association. Globally, drug control has had massive costs for the dignity, humanity and freedom of people of African descent, with reports showing that people of African descent face disproportionate and unjust law enforcement interventions, arrests and incarceration for drug-related offences. In various countries, the ‘war on drugs’ has been more effective as a system of racial control than as a tool to reduce drug markets. Policing interventions based on racial profiling remain widespread, whilst access to evidence-based treatment and harm reduction for people of African descent remains critically low. Around the world, women who use drugs face significant stigma and discrimination in accessing harm reduction programmes, drug dependence treatment and basic health care. Although one in three people who use drugs are women, women constitute only one in five people in treatment. Women are also disproportionately affected by criminalisation and incarceration, with 35% of women in prison worldwide having been convicted of a drug-related offence compared to 19% of men. The causes of women’s interaction with the criminal justice system in relation to drugs are complex, often linked to other factors such as poverty and coercion, and may reflect systemic gender inequality in society more broadly. Of note, most women in prison for drug related offences have little education. Under international law, States that have not yet abolished the death penalty may only impose capital punishment for the ‘most serious crimes’, meaning crimes of extreme gravity involving intentional killing. Drug offences clearly do not meet this threshold. However, drug-related offences are still punishable by death in over 30 countries, and human rights experts have raised concerns about evidence of its discriminatory impact on individuals belonging to minorities. Everyone without exception has the right to life-saving harm reduction interventions, which are essential for the protection of the right to health of people who use drugs. However, according to UN data, only 1 in 8 people with drug dependence have access to appropriate treatment, and the coverage of harm reduction services remains very low. The situation is particularly critical for women, LGBTIQ+ persons, and other marginalised groups, for whom harm reduction and treatment services may not be adapted or respond to their specific needs. Women and LGBTIQ+ persons also face even higher levels of stigma, including self-stigma, and discrimination than men who use drugs.

As the world grows older, drug use among people over 65 has also increased. The COVID-19 pandemic had a negative impact on the health and well-being of older persons, and studies show an increased use of pain relievers, tranquillizers, and sedatives among this age group. Older drug users are also more often using the dark web, social media, and online forums to obtain illicit substances resulting in a rise of drug-related deaths among older populations. The criminalisation of substances traditionally used by Indigenous Peoples such as the coca leaf can also result in the suppression, undermining and marginalization of traditional and indigenous knowledge systems and medicine, which has wide-ranging health impacts and is rooted in discriminatory hierarchies and conceptions. Forced eradication of crops, including through the aerial spraying of highly hazardous pesticides, can cause serious harm to the environment and clean water, as well as to the health and welfare of Indigenous communities. Indigenous Peoples that might be affected by these and other drug control operations must be meaningfully consulted, and guarantees should be given that their lives, cultural practices, lands and natural resources are not violated. Criminal laws and the punitive use of administrative and other sanctions stigmatise already marginalised populations. Criminalisation results in significant barriers to access to health services (including those for HIV and palliative care) and in other human rights violations. As called for by the UN system Common Position on drug-related matters, drug use and possession for personal use should be decriminalised as a matter of urgency. Drug use or dependence are never a sufficient justification for detaining a person. Compulsory drug detention and rehabilitation centres need to be closed and replaced with voluntary, evidence-informed, and rights-based health and social services in the community.

#drugs #war on drugs #prohibition

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

Tackling the threat from artificially generated images of child sex abuse must be a priority at the UK-hosted global AI summit this year, an internet safety organisation warned as it published its first data on the subject.

Such “astoundingly realistic images” pose a risk of normalising child sex abuse and tracking them to identify whether they are genuine or artificially created could also distract from helping real victims, the Internet Watch Foundation (IWF) said.

The organisation – which works to identify and remove online images and videos of child abuse – said while the number of AI images being identified is still small “the potential exists for criminals to produce unprecedented quantities of life-like child sexual abuse imagery”.

Of 29 URLs (web addresses) containing suspected AI-generated child sexual abuse imagery reported to the IWF between May 24 and June 30, seven were confirmed to contain AI-generated imagery.

This is the first data on AI-generated child sexual abuse imagery the IWF has published.

It said it could not immediately give locations for which countries the URLs were hosted in, but that the images contained Category A and B material – some of the most severe kinds of sexual abuse – with children as young as three years old depicted.

Its analysts also discovered an online “manual” written by offenders with the aim of helping other criminals train the AI and refine their prompts to return more realistic results.

The organisation said such imagery – despite not featuring real children – is not a victimless crime, warning that it can normalise the sexual abuse of children, and make it harder to spot when real children might be in danger.

Last month, Rishi Sunak announced the first global summit on artificial intelligence (AI) safety to be held in the UK in the autumn, focusing on the need for international co-ordinated action to mitigate the risks of the emerging technology generally.

Susie Hargreaves, chief executive of the IWF, said fit-for-purpose legislation needs to be brought in “to get ahead” of the threat posed by the technology’s specific use to create child sex abuse images.

She said: “AI is getting more sophisticated all the time. We are sounding the alarm and saying the Prime Minister needs to treat the serious threat it poses as the top priority when he hosts the first global AI summit later this year.

“We are not currently seeing these images in huge numbers, but it is clear to us the potential exists for criminals to produce unprecedented quantities of life-like child sexual abuse imagery.

“This would be potentially devastating for internet safety and for the safety of children online.

“Offenders are now using AI image generators to produce sometimes astoundingly realistic images of children suffering sexual abuse.

“For members of the public – some of this material would be utterly indistinguishable from a real image of a child being sexually abused. Having more of this material online makes the internet a more dangerous place.”

She said the continued abuse of this technology “could have profoundly dark consequences – and could see more and more people exposed to this harmful content”.

She added: “Depictions of child sexual abuse, even artificial ones, normalise sexual violence against children. We know there is a link between viewing child sexual abuse imagery and going on to commit contact offences against children.”

Dan Sexton, chief technical officer at the IWF, said: “Our worry is that, if AI imagery of child sexual abuse becomes indistinguishable from real imagery, there is a danger that IWF analysts could waste precious time attempting to identify and help law enforcement protect children that do not exist.

“This would mean real victims could fall between the cracks, and opportunities to prevent real life abuse could be missed.”

He added that the machine learning to create the images, in some cases, has been trained on data sets of real child victims of sexual abuse, therefore “children are still being harmed, and their suffering is being worked into this artificial imagery”.

The National Crime Agency (NCA) said while AI-generated content features only “in a handful of cases”, the risk “is increasing and we are taking it extremely seriously”.

Chris Farrimond, NCA director of threat leadership, said: “The creation or possession of pseudo-images – one created using AI or other technology – is an offence in the UK. As with other such child sexual abuse material viewed and shared online, pseudo-images also play a role in the normalisation and escalation of abuse among offenders.

“There is a very real possibility that if the volume of AI-generated material increases, this could greatly impact on law enforcement resources, increasing the time it takes for us to identify real children in need of protection.”

[ddejavvu]

Hi mei!

can i request some dbf!hotch except bc reader is an adult he doesn't actually realise the much younger person he's been dating is bestie's child. (i picture the dad working in fbi/law enforcement so maybe they run into one another at an fbi gala or whatnot)

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

--

Aaron had thought nothing of the fact that the chief of the city they're in had the same last name as you. He's known the guy for years, and when you'd signed onto his team he made a vague connection in his head, but nothing ever became of it. After all, they've met a dozen Morgans in the field, even more Garcias, and even Reid was more common than he'd thought at first.

Plus, he's kinda sorta been mentally referring to you with his own last name for a few weeks now, after you'd pointed out a wedding ring ad in a magazine to him. Said you were 'just looking', but he'd seen the glimmer in your eyes. Bottom line, it takes an effort not to introduce you as Y/N Hotchner to his old friend.

"Chief Y/L/N, this is Agent Y/N Y/L/N," He gestures to you with a soft chuckle, "Maybe you're related."

You give Aaron a funny look, a silly smile on your face, "Uh, yeah, maybe."

"Honey," The chief greets you, and Aaron's polite smile dims as the man reaches out to hug you.

"Dad," You gush beside the man's ear as he squeezes you tight, "It's good to see you again."

"You too," Your dad reluctantly lets you go, after all, there's still a serial killer on the loose, "Aaron, I thought you knew we were related?"

"I didn't," He admits sheepishly, "And you- uh, I didn't know you had a daughter. At least not in the workforce."

"My younger sister is ten," You explain, and Aaron marvels at the age gap, "He probably only talks about her cause she's his favorite."

"She's my favorite because she doesn't excuse me of picking favorites between my children," Your father elbows you with a good-natured grin, "And because she's less rebellious than you were."

"Rebellious," You scoff, "I was an angel."

"A fallen one," Your dad leans in to stage-whisper to Aaron, "The next time she gives you trouble, just call me and I'll tell you about what she was like when she was younger. Whatever she's done will pale in comparison, I guarantee it."

Aaron is only able to chuckle along to your dad's teasing, internally stunned and struggling to comprehend the situation. When your dad turns to head into his office, you pointedly fall back beside Aaron, turning to face him with an amused grin.

"You seriously didn't know?" You cross your arms over your chest, "It's in my file."

"I must have missed it," Aaron admits, brow creasing in confusion and sudden, epiphanic understanding, "Is that why you always turn my picture of the chief and I to face the wall before we have sex?"

"Yes," You laugh, "Why did you think?"

"I thought you didn't like my shirt or something," Aaron muses, "You know I donated that shirt for you!"

You let out a snort, one that you seem embarrassed by if the way you cover your mouth and let your eyes flutter shut is any indication. You take a moment to breathe, "The shirt was fine. Not the best, but not as unsexy as my dad."

"Not the best," Aaron grumbles, turning to busy himself with the whiteboard the precinct has set up, "I loved that shirt."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner au #dbf!hotch #multiverse mondays #ddejavvu’s multiverse mondays

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

The International Court of Justice orders Israel to stop its military operation in. Israel must take all efforts to:

End all genocidal speech

Open up all humanitarian aid to Gaza.

Report back in 30 days.

None of these measures are possible without a ceasefire. All ICJ had to do was use the word ceasefire and it failed to do so. This case is going to drag for years now and Gaza and Palestine will suffer.

ICJ failed even though it ruled 15-2 against Israel. ICJ rulings are not enforceable by law. But it still would have been huge for the International Court to issue a ceasefire.

ICJ and the world was on trial and they lost.

The world failed Palestine today.

Source: AJ+

#bullfuckingshit #gaza #palestine #free palestine #world politics #international court of justice #global news #israel #genocide

[bisphenol-a]

Tomorrow, Friday November 17, the German Bundestag will vote on a draft law that could decide that naturalization for residents would be dependent on a commitment to Israel’s right to exist.

The bill, which includes a law that would change the criminal code, was submitted by the Christian Democratic Party’s (CDU) parliamentary group.

It would impact individuals seeking residency, asylum, and naturalization, and its intent is to “provide better protection against the further entrenchment and spread of antisemitism that has “immigrated from abroad.”

“Since the day of the attack,” the law states in its introduction, “disgusting rallies and demonstrations have also taken place on German streets, expressing unconcealed joy at the deaths of Jews and revealing an alarming level of antisemitism.”

A majority of protests across Germany have not only been peaceful but have only called for the German government to back a ceasefire to stop the genocide of the Palestinian people.

I attended multiple demonstrations across Germany, and the only visible threat to public safety has been from the police. In fact, I was a witness to one demonstration in Frankfurt where the police banned it from taking place mere minutes before it was about to begin. Hundreds of people were met with water cannons, extreme levels of police presence, and kettling by law enforcement that led to the detainment of over 300 people.

In another I attended in Mannheim, the only act of antisemitism committed was a man on the sidelines of our protest raising his hand in a Nazi salute to antagonize and intimidate pro-Palestinian demonstrators. He was arrested soon after, and local publications reported he was, in fact, not a part of our planned demonstration.

In 2022, over 80 percent of all antisemitic crimes in Germany were committed by the German far right, according to the federal police. However, the new draft bill does not include these statistics. Instead, it attributes violent antisemitism with sympathy with “Hamas terrorism,” which they claim is “cheered and propagated on German streets and schoolyards.”

The bill clearly singles out Arabs and migrants, claiming antisemitism in Germany is now only “imported.”

“A significant portion of those are obviously immigrants from countries in North Africa and the Middle East, where antisemitism and hostility towards Israel have a particular breeding ground,” the draft law states, backed by no concrete evidence for such remarkable claims.

It continues: “as well as their descendants, the instruments of residence, asylum and citizenship law must be used more consistently than before- in addition to general means such as criminal law- in order to combat antisemitism in Germany more effectively.”

In summary, the law not only creates a prerequisite where a citizenship application will only be granted if the individual declares a commitment to Israel’s right to exist and swears that they did not pursue any endeavors directed against Israel, but it can also strip the residency status and the citizenship of dual nationals who have been convicted of an antisemitic crime. This would also include a prison sentence of at least one year.

“Maintaining the legal status quo is not an option,” the draft law says, “as the current legal situation is clearly not suitable for effectively combating the specific antisemitism that is widespread among some foreigners in Germany.”

In Germany, what constitutes an “antisemitic crime” is extremely ambiguous. In 2017, the federal government officially adopted the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s (IHRA) Working Definition of Antisemitism. Advocates, scholars, and legal experts at the European Legal Support Center (ELSC) as well as other organizations for example, have long criticized the IHRA definition, arguing it redefines antisemitism by wrongly conflating criticism of Israel with anti-Jewish racism.

According to a report conducted by ELSC and published earlier this year, the invocation of the definition almost exclusively targets Palestinian rights advocacy, harming Palestinian and Jewish activists in particular.

Now that Germany has specifically labeled the protests as examples of antisemitism that should be criminalized, there is much cause for concern for pro-Palestinian activists. Already, there have been examples such as the stripping of refugee status from a Palestinian activist from Syria and denying residency to Palestinian doctors who have only been a part of a Palestinian cultural group.

...

“Violent excesses at demonstrations- such as the pro-Palestinian demonstrations in October 2023- must be appropriately sanctioned. However, the increasing abuse of the right to demonstrate can often not be adequately punished,” the draft law says. “The regulation of breach of the peace is too narrow.

We have already witnessed banned demonstrations in cities and violent police arrests detaining people only carrying flags and wearing keffiyehs or simply holding anti-war signs. In Berlin, home to one of the largest Palestinian diasporas in Europe, there have been regular police presence and clear examples of racial profiling, and harassment against anyone who might “look” like they are attending a previously banned demonstration. 

[haggishlyhagging]

Women . . . have not needed such stringent social chains. Their bodies can be left free because their minds are chained long before they become functioning adults. Most women have so thoroughly internalized the social definitions which tell them that their only significant role is to serve men as wives and raise the next generation of men and their servants that no laws are necessary to enforce this.

The result is that women, even more than other minority groups, have their identities derived first as members of a group and only second, if at all, as unique persons. "Consider the following—When a boy is born, it is difficult to predict what he will be doing twenty-five years later. We cannot say whether he will be an artist or a doctor or a college professor because he will be permitted to develop and fulfill his own identity. But if the newborn child is a girl, we can predict with almost complete certainty how she will be spending her time twenty-five years later. Her individuality does not have to be considered; it is irrelevant."

Yet until very recently, most women have refused to recognize their own oppression. They have openly accepted the social definition of who and what they are. They have refused to be conscious of the fact that they are seen and treated, before anything else, as women. Many still do. This very refusal is significant because no group is so oppressed as one which will not recognize its own oppression. Women's denial that they must deal with their oppression is a reflection of just how far they still have to go.

There are many reasons why covert mechanisms of social control have been so much more successful with women than with most other minority groups. More than most they have been denied any history. Their tradition of subjection is long and even this history is purged from the books so that women cannot compare the similarities of their current condition with that of the past. In a not-so-subtle way both men and women are told that only men make history and women are not important enough to study.

Further, the agents of social control are much nearer to hand than those of any other group. No other minority lives in the same household with its master, separated totally from its peers and urged to compete with them for the privilege of serving the majority group. No other minority so thoroughly accepts the standards of the dominant group as its own and interprets any deviance from those values as a sign of degeneracy. No other minority so readily argues for the maintenance of its own position as one that is merely "different" without questioning whether one must be the "same" to be equal.

-Jo Freeman, ‘The Building of the Gilded Cage’ in Radical Feminism, Koedt et al (eds.)

#jo freeman #radical feminist analysis #female oppression #female socialization

[lokiinmediasideblog]

FISA 702 HAS PASSED THE HOUSED. WE MUST STOP IT!

Fax your legislators! TELL THEM YOU WON'T VOTE FOR THEM IF THEY VOTE YES ON FISA (Fy-zah) 702!

You can also fax your legislators for FREE at:

From Edward Snowden's Twitter:

If you were mad about your House rep voting to let the government spy on you without a warrant ("FISA 702" - fy-za seven-oh-two), we may have one last shot. CALL YOUR REP @ [phone] and say "𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟳𝟬𝟮, 𝗜 𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂."

From the article link:

House lawmakers voted on Friday to reauthorize section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, or Fisa, including a key measure that allows for warrantless surveillance of Americans. The controversial law allows for far-reaching monitoring of foreign communications, but has also led to the collection of US citizens’ messages and phone calls.

Lawmakers voted 273–147 to approve the law, which the Biden administration has for years backed as an important counterterrorism tool. An amendment that would have required authorities seek a warrant failed, in a tied 212-212 vote across party lines.

Donald Trump opposed the reauthorization of the bill, posting to his Truth Social platform on Wednesday: “KILL FISA, IT WAS ILLEGALLY USED AGAINST ME, AND MANY OTHERS. THEY SPIED ON MY CAMPAIGN!!!”

The law, which gives the government expansive powers to view emails, calls and texts, has long been divisive and resulted in allegations from civil liberties groups that it violates privacy rights. House Republicans were split in the lead-up to vote over whether to reauthorize section 702, the most contentious aspect of the bill, with Mike Johnson, the House speaker, struggling to unify them around a revised version of the pre-existing law.

Republicans shot down a procedural vote on Wednesday that would have allowed Johnson to put the bill to a floor vote, in a further blow to the speaker’s ability to find compromise within his party. Following the defeat, the bill was changed from a five-year extension to a two-year extension of section 702 – an effort to appease far-right Republicans who believe Trump will be president by the time it expires.

Section 702 allows for government agencies such as the National Security Administration to collect data and monitor the communications of foreign citizens outside of US territory without the need for a warrant, with authorities touting it as a key tool in targeting cybercrime, international drug trafficking and terrorist plots. Since the collection of foreign data can also gather communications between people abroad and those in the US, however, the result of section 702 is that federal law enforcement can also monitor American citizens’ communications.

Section 702 has faced opposition before, but it became especially fraught in the past year after court documents revealed that the FBI had improperly used it almost 300,000 times – targeting racial justice protesters, January 6 suspects and others. That overreach emboldened resistance to the law, especially among far-right Republicans who view intelligence services like the FBI as their opponent.

Trump’s all-caps post further weakened Johnson’s position. Trump’s online remarks appeared to refer to an FBI investigation into a former campaign adviser of his, which was unrelated to section 702. Other far-right Republicans such as Matt Gaetz similarly vowed to derail the legislation, putting its passage in peril.

Meanwhile, the Ohio congressman Mike Turner, Republican chair of the House Intelligence Committee, told lawmakers on Friday that failing to reauthorize the bill would be a gift to China’s government spying programs, as well as Hamas and Hezbollah.

“We will be blind as they try to recruit people for terrorist attacks in the United States,” Turner said on Friday on the House floor.

The California Democratic representative and former speaker Nancy Pelosi also gave a statement in support of passing section 702 with its warrantless surveillance abilities intact, urging lawmakers to vote against an amendment that would weaken its reach.

“I don’t have the time right now, but if members want to know I’ll tell you how we could have been saved from 9/11 if we didn’t have to have the additional warrants,” Pelosi said.

Debate over Section 702 pitted Republicans who alleged that the law was a tool for spying on American citizens against others in the GOP who sided with intelligence officials and deemed it a necessary measure to stop foreign terrorist groups. One proposed amendment called for requiring authorities to secure a warrant before using section 702 to view US citizens’ communications, an idea that intelligence officials oppose as limiting their ability to act quickly. Another sticking point in the debate was whether law enforcement should be prohibited from buying information on American citizens from data broker firms, which amass and sell personal data on tens of millions of people, including phone numbers and email addresses.

Section 702 dates back to the George W Bush administration, which secretly ran warrantless wiretapping and surveillance programs in the aftermath of the 9/11 terror attacks. In 2008, Congress passed section 702 as part of the Fisa Amendments Act and put foreign surveillance under more formal government oversight. Lawmakers have renewed the law twice since, including in 2018 when they rejected an amendment that would have required authorities to get warrants for US citizens’ data.

Last year Merrick Garland, the attorney general, and Avril Haines, director of national intelligence, sent a letter to congressional leaders telling them to reauthorize section 702. They claimed that intelligence gained from it resulted in numerous plots against the US being foiled, and that it was partly responsible for facilitating the drone strike that killed the al-Qaida leader, Ayman al-Zawahiri, in 2022.

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