Like and reblog if you can relate to this:
“Dude let’s go to Comic Con this weekend! I got tickets”
Take photos, make friends, meet a celebrity, wander around artist alley or geek out however you like! Just make sure your wallet survives ;)
Important!
After Israeli social media shared these videos and they got viral, they tried claiming these men were hamas members, THEY ARE NOT. They're civilians who were displaced with their families in shelters before Israeli soldiers abducted them.
Families are recognizing their brothers/fathers/grandfathers and sons by the videos shared here. They already executed a number of them.
As a Palestinian, this is the most painful, horrifying thing I had to witness. 63 days of bombing, killing a huge number of these men's families, you also abduct them and humiliate them while filming??? How can they take pride in this. This is genocide, this is holocaust 2.0 and I hope it hunts everyone who can put an effort to stop it but didn't.
This mother has lost all of her children at once by Israeli air strikes. She refuses to wash her hands when people tell her to because she doesn't want to lose the last real thing she has left of them.
"My kids are gone. My kids are gone, people. God take care of them please, I can't bear this anymore." Then at the end she asks if all of their bodies have been brought to the hospital, she says: "Did they bring mohammed? Where is he?"
How does a person just go on after this? Demand a ceasefire now. Don't stay silent, reblog amd repost and do everything you can to make this genocide stop!
˗ˏˋINKINFLUX’S MASTERLISTˎˊ˗ * = smut + = multi-part series
Keep reading
pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader
summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.
requested; Anonymous
rating; T
warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)
word count; 2185
A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.
When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.
The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.
Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.
Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.
They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.
Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.
Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?
With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.
Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.
“I didn't expect you to come.”
He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.
“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.
A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.
“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.
“But you can simply call me V.”
"V" said while taking a bow
Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny
“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”
“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”
“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips
“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”
He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.
“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.
V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way
“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”
When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was
“How?”
V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”
The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.
He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”
“Does a raven speak?”
“But why?”
V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.
“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”
He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".
Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.
Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.
“Come sit, I have something to give you.”
“But you said-”
“Please?”
He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.
“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”
Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.
“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”
Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.
V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.
“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”
“mmhmm..”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
Don't forget about the Palestinians.
Don't forget about them now.
Don't forget about them tomorrow.
Don't forget about them in a week from now.
Don't forget about them in a month.
Don't forget them next year.
Don't forget them in 5 years.
When the history books start to update, don't let them put lies in there.
When documentaries come out, boycott the ones who call this a victory for Israel.
When books release talking about soldier's personal experiences with Palestine, remember the victims. Remember the truth.
Don't forget about what we've seen.
Don't forget about what we've heard.
Don't let them tell lies about Palestine.
Don't forget about the Palestinians when the world tries to make this go away.
PLEASE talk about Congo, Haiti, and Sudan, with the same fervor you give Palestine. PLEASE care about black struggle and suffering.