#and this destroys the lives of two families and three innocent children

[thewingedwolf]

some parallels between the prequel trilogy and the acolyte

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Post-Bad Romance, Cell tries to adjust to life on Quesadilla Island.

For Spiderbit Week Day Four: Murder Husbands

-

The island is a prison. And Cell knows prisons.

There are the wardens: the mysterious blank-faced bear things with guns and clipboards that follow the prisoners around asking questions and watching.

There are the prisoners: the idiots trapped on an island paradise and seemingly unwilling to try and escape.

There are the cells: buildings and statues and neighborhoods that the prisoners were allowed to make themselves that have security cameras watching every entrance and exit that the prisoners don't seem to know-slash-care about.

So. Prison.

"Pai? Why are you staring at Mister Roier like that?"

Prison. With children.

"Don't call me that," Cell snaps. "And he likes it, that's why. Go somewhere else."

The kid- assigned by the faceless overlords- just smiles cheekily in response. He clasps his hands behind his back and rocks onto his heels, head tilting slightly.

"Pais Tazer e Craft said I'm not supposed to talk to you," Richarlyson innocently says. His eyes are hidden behind his curls, but Cell can imagine that they're glittering mischievously.

Now, Cell knows that the kid is an evil genius. Like recognizes like: Cell doesn't remember much from his childhood, but he remembers looking at himself in a puddle of blood one morning after breakfast and seeing a smile that he recognizes now every time that he and Richarlyson see each other.

Richarlyson is a master manipulator. He's not even ten years old, but he can already poke and prod his government-assigned parents into doing what he wants. He hides behind childhood innocence and sweet smiles and sweeter words, but he's also a little asshole.

Of course, Roier adores him.

Of course, Cell doesn't want anything to do with him.

But what he does want is whatever Pac and Mike don't want, so he scowls and shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away.

Content, Richarlyson plops onto the grass and props his chin up in the palms of his hands. He watches Roier just as Cell was doing a moment ago, which is bound to make Roier fucking ecstatic.

Or, well, it would if Roier knew that the two of them were there watching him.

Since arriving on the island a week ago, Roier has managed to find himself an entirely new little family. He squeezed into their relationship like a strangler fig, and Jaiden and Bobby accepted him with open arms.

("Friendship", apparently. That's the thing the prisoners care about the most besides their artificially-created government spawn.

Friendship, and communication.

Idealists. Idiots.)

Roier has moved in with Jaiden and Bobby. He's decided that he's Bobby's father. He's decided that Cell is Bobby's other father, and he got Cell to agree with a knife subtly poking into his side.

Cell, meanwhile, lives in a cave. It reminds him too much of the island- the other island, not this one, but it's also natural, and the wardens don't know where it is. He's searched the area a dozen times over by now: no cameras.

One day, if he and Roier are stuck here long enough, he'll hollow it out by hand. He needs a place to keep his tools. He needs a place to hide his bed so nobody can destroy it.

He needs a place to torture Pac and Mike and teach him what real friendship looks like. Roier will be by his side, and they'll show them.

Cell doesn't miss Roier, though.

At all.

They spent three weeks practically together in the Brazilian countryside, and Roier is annoying, and Cell has had enough of him.

Entirely.

Roier is the only person besides Cell to know where the cave is. And he'll be the only one there when Cell shows Pac and Mike a real partnership. Because he and Roier are partners.

That's it.

(When introducing themselves to the other prisoners, this is how they did it:

Roier: Hola, hola! My name is Roier, I am Mexican, and I am engaged to Cell!

Cell: You can call me Cell, and I'm going to kill every one of you someday.

Roier: [Glares at Cell pointedly.]

Cell: [Sighing] And Roier and I are partners.)

Cell definitely isn't just annoyed that Roier decided to go and live with two strangers and not him.

That would be ridiculous.

Today, Roier is working on the garden with Bobby, and Cell is watching him from a hilltop a fair distance away. Jaiden is asleep. (She'd be asleep forever if Cell had anything to say about it, but that would make Roier upset. So.)

Roier glows in the sunlight. With proper access to a shower and shampoo and skincare, he's positively ethereal. His nails are freshly painted. His eyeliner is meticulous. His hair looks soft.

Richarlyson cocks his head in his hands to look up at Cell.

"Why don't you just... go hang out with him? Aren't you guys getting married?"

Cell's scowl only deepens. "Do you see a ring on either of our hands?"

There aren't any. Roier hasn't gotten any, and Cell sure as hell isn't about to start begging the wardens for silver and gold like the other prisoners would. He has dignity. He'll just dig up the materials himself and make them into rings. Somehow.

He scuffs the toe of his boot against the grass, kicking up some into the air.

"Besides," he says, voice softer despite his attempts to remain objective, "he's busy with his kid."

Roier had mentioned once that he had a child. His asshole (piece of shit bastard motherfucker evil-) ex killed the kid, and Roier killed the ex.

Cell doesn't know how old Roier's kid was when it died, but Roier seems to be doing just fine with ten-year-old Bobby. It's like he was born to be a parent, he's just so kind. He's gentle. He teases Bobby, and he teases the other brats on the island, but he doesn't go out of his way to hurt them.

Roier's smile when he's around kids is entirely different than it is when he's around Cell. His eyes are different, they're... they're just different.

"You're literally also Bobby's dad," Richarlyson dryly responds.

He pauses, and then he asks, "Wait, does that make me Bobby's brother?"

"No," is Cell's immediate response. "You aren't even my son."

"No, I am. Cucurucho says so."

"And I say you're not. You have Felps."

"And Pais Pac and Mike."

A foul taste fills Cell's mouth.

"See?" he says. "You already have plenty of parents. You don't need me."

"Maybe," Richarlyson acknowledges. He smiles, and Cell can't tell if he means it or not. "But I want you. You're cool!"

"I know that," Cell scoffs. "But you shouldn't be hanging around a killer, kid. None of the other kids will want to play with you."

"So what? They don't like me, anyway."

Ducking his head to look at the grass, Richarlyson starts tearing some of it up.

Cell winces. He... doesn't know how to deal with kids. It just isn't what he does. It's what Roier, does, but Roier is busy with his actual family now.

In the garden, Roier laughs. He drops a flower onto Bobby's head and ducks away playfully as Bobby swings his sword at him in retaliation.

(Roier's smile is beautiful. Cell doesn't know what beauty is anymore, but he knows this.)

During the war, BadBoyHalo once told Cell that he was too kind. He wouldn't survive that way, and he almost didn't. He didn't start winning battles until he started being mean, and he's been mean ever since. That's simply how the world works.

Cell rolls his eyes up towards the sky. With a grumble, he settles onto the grass next to Richarlyson.

"You're too young to be depressed," Cell says. "So stop that. If the other brats don't want to talk to you, then don't talk to them. They're assholes. Fuck 'em."

Richarlyson frowns. "But that's mean. I want to be their friend."

"And they don't want to be yours. What are you going to do about it?"

Bobby is chasing Roier around the garden, now. Cell loves watching Roier move, he's so... wow with everything he does: long limbs, muscles. Wow.

Richarlyson doesn't say anything for a moment, so Cell takes the silence as an opportunity to keep watching Roier. He wasn't lying earlier, Roier loves to be watched. He practically begs Cell to do it, and Cell is happy enough to play along.

(Sure, Roier hasn't moved in with him, and he hasn't gotten Cell a ring, and he hasn't really done much with Cell, but he wants to be stalked. Fucking freak.)

(Cell isn't much of a stalker, but he'll do it for Roier. He'd do anything for Roier, and isn't that a novel thought? This is a real partnership, fuck you, Pac and Mike.)

Eventually, Richarlyson lets the grass in his fingers fly into the wind.

"I'll make them be my friends?" he tries, looking to Cell for approval.

Cell shakes his head. "That doesn't work. I've tried, trust me. In prison, you have to force people to be your friends. Those relationships don't last. They'll stab you in the back at the first chance of an escape."

"Uuuuugh, then what?" Richarlyson groans. "They all hate me!"

"How do you know?"

"Uh, because they're all siblings and I'm not related to them? Duh?"

Wow, what a stupid kid. He really is Felps' son.

Sighing, Cell nudges Richarlyson's head with his hand. He maybe ruffles the kid's hair a little, but not purposefully.

"They don't know you, idiot," he explains. "How can you be friends if you're strangers? Have you even tried talking to them?"

"No. Because they hate me."

"They don't trust you. Big difference."

Looking right at Roier, Cell continues: "Trust is the most important part of any relationship. From trust comes honesty, and from honesty comes everything else. You need to prove to the other kids that they can trust you."

Richarlyson leans into Cell's touch, still frowning. "Okay, but how?"

Cell shrugs and yanks his hand away. "Hell if I know."

"You trust Mister Roier."

"He's- he's. Roier." Cell's heart twists fondly in his chest. "I don't even know how he did it."

"Oh," says Richarlyson. He smiles, then. "That's nice. You two really are partners, aren't you?"

Cell scoffs, "Of course we are."

"So that's why he's been staring at you for the past, like, five minutes."

"What?"

Cell blinks a few times, scrunches his eyebrows together.

Indeed, Roier is looking at him now. He's looking right at him, eyes glittering in the sun, smile so wide that his jaw has to be aching.

How did Cell not notice? Was he really so caught up with Richarlyson's kid drama? Ugh, he's getting weak. He needs to kill someone.

Roier waves a hand and shouts, "Gatinho!"

Cell raises his own hand in response. "Guapito."

"Come here! Bring our son with you!"

Richarlyson squirms happily at that.

"See?" he crows. "I am your son."

"Yeah, no," Cell huffs.

He stands, anyway, and he brushes the grass off of his pants.

He doesn't rush down the hill, not like Richarlyson does. He might run a little, and his heart might skip a beat as he gets closer, and his face might be fighting a smile, but he doesn't rush.

At all.

Roier meets him at the bottom of the hill with a hug so tight that Cell's lungs threaten to collapse inside of him.

"I missed you," Roier murmurs. "Don't leave me again."

Cell can't help it. He hugs Roier back just as tightly and grumbles, "Says the one ditching me to play house with some strangers. What do you mean, 'don't leave me again'?"

Roier gasps, and it sounds like he's going to cry for just a second.

But then he starts laughing, hard and loud.

"You're jealous!" he declares.

Cell feels himself flush red.

"No," he says, pushing himself out of Roier's grip and turning around entirely to face away from him. "I'm not."

But Roier just hugs him from behind, chin tucking itself right into the crook of Cell's neck.

"Thank you for watching me," he hums.

Cell grunts. For some reason, he can never speak properly around Roier. It's like his brain just shuts down, it's embarrassing.

He doesn't like being held from behind, though, so he grabs Roier's hands and turns back around. Roier, for whatever reason, twirls in Cell's loose hold like a ballerina.

"Wow," Richarlyson comments from somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

"Ew," Bobby agrees, equally ignorable.

Roier would look so good covered in blood right now, Cell thinks. Red is his color. Cell doesn't have a favorite color, but the closest thing he can think of would be the shade of red Roier's face always is when Cell is killing someone.

Leaning in close, Cell murmurs, "Screw the kids. I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

Roier's eyes light up. "Brazilian?"

Cell ponders. And then he shakes his head. "Not worth the trouble. I'm thinking... Mexican?"

His voice pitches up slightly, questioning.

"Mmm, Quackity, Mariana, or Missa's place?" Roier asks.

For whatever reason, Cell thinks back to a week ago when Quackity and Mariana and Slime had tried stealing Richarlyson away from him... and the others. Missa behaved, he's safe (today.)

Cell's arms find themselves draping over Roier's shoulders loosely. Their heads lean closer together until their foreheads are pressed against each other.

Roier's eyelashes are long and beautiful. He doesn't really use mascara, so it's all natural. He flutters them delicately as Cell thinks.

"Quackity," Cell eventually decides. He smiles crookedly. "Fast food."

Roier's canines aren't as sharp as Cell's are, but he's still borderline vampiric. Wow.

Cell doesn't feel ready to kiss Roier yet- he's still working on speaking around him. But he still considers it as Roier looks up at him through his eyelashes.

One day, he thinks. What did Bad always say, "save it 'til marriage"? Cell can do that. He just needs to figure the rings out first.

"As you wish," Roier breathes.

The kids both groan and wander off to do their own thing elsewhere, but Cell couldn't care less. They aren't his, no matter what Roier says.

And they never will be.

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♣♣♣ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 8

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ 7】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐕𝐒 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝟏)

╔══ ≪ ♥♦♥ ≫ ══╗

“See? You should have just kept quiet and done as you were told. The truth is, I actually like you. You’re quiet and obedient.”

When Big Baddie stood up, you realized he was twice your size.

So, you let the gems fall, teetering on the edge of the table as bait.

Sorry, Aventurine.

Meanwhile, you let your watch slid over your knuckle as a makeshift brass knuckle. There was no way you’d deal any real damage otherwise.

“I was just trying to save you, you know? I’m sure you also don’t know this, but that Avgin slave over there killed his owner.”

The moment he leaned in, eager to grab a hold of the gems, you swung your fist straight into his face!

“Of course I know, you piece of shit!

Otherwise, what kind of Aventurine’s fan were you?

“Uuoorrggh—!!”

As your fist connected with his nose, you felt the sharp impact reverberate through your knuckles, followed by a sudden, jarring crunch. Big Baddie took the punch square in the face and staggered backward. Soon, he lost his balance and fell, crashing to the ground in a heap.

Regret always came too late.

As you watched your wristwatch fell, shattering its glass on the floor, you realized you still loved it after all!! Also, your hand hurt like a bitch! Shit! Fuck! You could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Above all, you were furious.

Aventurine never even brought up his past, so who the fuck gave this guy the right to do so?!

You recalled how the pair of violet-cyan eyes looked so lifeless and devoid of emotion the moment his past was mentioned. It was clearly something difficult—something he preferred to keep private, and for obvious reasons.

If Aventurine were a male lead in a romance novel, it would have taken over 100 chapters and three different arcs before he revealed his past!! Even then, it would be only to the person he trusted most, someone he felt comfortable being vulnerable with!! That was just how delicate this was!!

And yet, and yet... this guy, heartlessly, in front of everyone...

In the past, Aventurine's entire family and clan were massacred by their enemies. Though he survived the ordeal, he was soon enslaved. Only God knows the depths of trauma and torment he suffered at their hands—enough to drive him to kill.

“—Hahahaha! Of course! Of course she doesn’t know! That's what you get for letting his looks fool you!”

“Do you know how hard I’ve been holding back my laugh?! I was wondering how to break the news this whole time! Hahahaha!”

Of course, taking a life was rarely, if ever, justified.

But that is not a reason to laugh at or shame him?! Especially not this bastard, who drove two innocent children to seek revenge!!

A single tear rolled down your cheek. Regret, anger, sorrow and pain washed over you all at once—mostly pain.

While shaking your stinging hand like crazy, you screamed at Big Baddie, “But so what—?! So what if he killed his master?!”

If you were beaten within an inch of your life every day and treated far worse than an animal, what would you do?

If you had nothing left to live for but to await your death at the hands of your enslaver, how would you respond?

“—I’d have done the same!!”

Your shoulders heaved up and down as you struggled to regain composure. All you knew was that you were ranting out of sheer rage.

“Shut up!!” Big Baddie stood up while covering his nose. He glowered at you like a beast, blood oozing out of his hands. “You're just a pathetic slut serving tables!! Do you really think I can't destroy you?! That worthless slave won't protect you from me!!”

“...!”

You instantly went quiet.

Seeing this, Big Baddie grinned with triumph, blood staining his gold and white teeth.

...That’s right.

Back when you were merely a third party, you could easily dismiss the whole incident with Big Baddie as "unreasonable." As much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t see it as that big of a deal.

Why didn’t the staff just skirt around the problem, make some excuses, and feign ignorance? Or, even better yet, fight back. Then, call the authority if things escalated. Easy-peasy.

Well, the reason, as it turned out, was plain and simple.

It was the same reason you didn’t pick a fight with every professor who imposed outrageous assignments or feedbacks on you. Or why you hadn’t shoved your middle finger down Erin’s—your actual manager at the restaurant you actually worked at—prissy throat yet.

Because you’d be a dropout and without a job. Now, you wouldn’t say that you knew how every single staff in Primavera felt, but you certainly wouldn’t survive without your job, let alone switch colleges.

Facing against Billy Burnett, the infamous iron-fisted loan-shark, the stakes were even higher. One wrong move, and your entire life could be in jeopardy.

“Need I remind you what kind of authority they have? A single word from them could ruin the lives of many. I wouldn’t care if you’re the only one affected, but I also have something to protect, so stay in your lane.”

You recalled Marius�� words.

You wouldn’t blame him either—or anyone, for that matter. Everyone had their own circumstances. It was called “picking your battles.”

Which was why, only you could do this.

If it wasn’t you—who would?

You grinned.

Thanks for the reminder, Big Baddie.

Thus, as the waiter of the high-end nightclub Primavera, you shot back, “Watch your language! Aventurine is one of our most valued customers, and we do not tolerate any form of abuse or mistreatment toward him!”

“Wha—?!”

Big Baddie had a dumb look on his face. Perhaps this was the first time someone had called him out so boldly.

Also, you weren’t even lying!! Who else could singlehandedly quadruple the profit of a luxurious nightclub?! Calling him Primavera Jesus would be more fitting! Obviously, the staff would want to cling to him—especially after what you were about to do in their uniform, using their name!

While Big Baddie was still flabbergasted, you continued.

“—Given that this behavior has persisted, we are left with no choice but to ask you to leave and ban you from returning!”

After enduring his tyranny for so long, those were likely the words the staff had been dying to say, but couldn’t.

Then, your gaze briefly landed on your crisp, black uniform. Her uniform.

Of course, you wouldn’t pretend to understand how Judith felt either.

Still, when everyone else was too terrified or stunned to do anything, her manager took a punch in the face for her. If you were her, you’d be happy, knowing that most managers out there wouldn’t do even half as much—and at the same time, sad. But above all, angry.

So, you thought of saying this for her.

“—Also, that’s for punching my manager, asshole!!!”

Yes, only you, or specifically, Aschenputtel, could do this.

Aschenputtel, who was destined to lost her job either way. Aschenputtel, who had neither family nor friends, and would disappear past midnight.

Hence, you, Aschenputtel, decided—

—I’m taking you down with me, Big Baddie.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９】

I realized that at the rate I was doing it before, the update will only come once a month, or even 2 months in case anything happened. ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა I don't want to keep you guys hanging for that long. So I decided to post it as soon as a part is finished. Do tell me if any of you prefer that I just finish it as a whole before updating :D

[asmaaamassi]

🛑Urgent.. please just read this & help me to save my family

Help me to save my family from the hell of the war of extermination and secure a better future

Hi

I am Asmaa Fathi from Gaza City in Palestine, A mother of six children, Our life was beautiful, Embraced by a beautiful small house that we built with dreams and ambitions accompanied by fatigue and spending money and building it stone by stone.

 Our dreams were simple for my family to live in safety and stability, And to obtain the simplest rights of life to live with dignity and to obtain healthy food, potable water, good clothing, treatment when sick, education and for my children's dream to come true that one of them would become a doctor and another an engineer and another a teacher and for my little girl to become a doctor who saves people's lives.

All of the above was a beautiful rosy life and innocent dreams and simple rights like us like any human being in this world who dreams of achieving his ambitions, And build a family and see their children grow up and live their lives.

Until the war of extermination that Gaza is exposed to began and continues, We have become human remains, Bombing and destruction, Killing and displacement, Blood everywhere, The terrifying sounds of bombs, The smell of gunpowder and death  Everywhere, the screams of mothers who lost their sons fill the corners of my city that was and is still being destroyed, Thousands of my people died.

Our dreams were shattered, Our ambitions are fading, We have become human remains. Our beautiful little house has become ashes and rubble, along with our memories that are scattered among the rubble and the remains of our clothes and our house are broken and scattered and we could not collect them because my family fled from the bombs and missiles of death falling everywhere.

I lost members of my family and my daughter died due to lack of treatment, We fled with mixed feelings between the remains of dreams, hopes, memories, feelings of fear and panic to more than one place, We search for a lost glimmer of hope, and a dream among the painful memories, We suffer severely every second, We struggle to obtain the simplest rights to live as human beings.

We lost everything we owned, and what was left for us, A dilapidated tent, I gather my scattered soul and children in it, We sleep on the ground and the sky is our cover, We spend the day waiting in lines for long hours searching for bread, food and clean drinking water, Even my little three-year-old child goes out with his brothers searching for food and drink, Our clothes are torn, We have nothing else and they have not left us since the war began, We spend our nights counting its long hours trapped in severe cold.

 Even the air we breathe is polluted with the dust of bombs and the smell of piled up garbage.. Even our food, much of it is unhealthy and barely enough for one meal that we get with difficulty, Hope has begun to fade, My children's dream of being a doctor, engineer and teacher in the future has begun to fade because the schools have been destroyed and there is no education.

Even my little girl "LAMA" who once dreamed of becoming a doctor who saves people now asks me when will we die so that we can rest, Two of my sons and my husband are sick, They are now suffering because of the lack of healthy food and treatment, My little child at his age he has a responsibility on his shoulders like his brothers, This war has not spared the young or the old.

Our children are hiding behind us in panic, our hearts are burning and we are unable to secure the most basic rights for them, We are about to lose our identity as human beings and our right to live in a safe environment and shelter that provides the minimum requirements of life and the most basic rights, We now live in an environment that lacks security, inside a camp that is full of dangers, We struggle daily between the reptiles and animals that share the place with us, We escape from the sounds of bombs and missiles that fall everywhere.

Help my family and my children so that they can regain hope to achieve their dreams and we can meet in a new home and a life that we will start from scratch, There is still hope in life as long as there are people like you who extend a helping hand to those who are in dire need of it like us.  Don't leave us.  Be a human and help us.

 Help my family even a little, Anything can fulfill one of our dreams.  A little at a time can build a life and create a better and more beautiful reality.

Please share my story

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request Benimaru introducing his long lost brother Hiiro to his wife and child.

You had been taking care of some household chores while the baby napped, when you heard the familiar sound of the gate and Benimaru call your name.

“Honey! I wasn’t expecting you so…” Your voice trailed off when you saw that he wasn’t alone. “Who is this?”

“This is my brother, Hiiro.”

You were shocked at Benimaru’s news. “I didn’t know you had a brother?”

“Well, we’re not really brothers. Not by blood anyway.”

“Good as!” Benimaru clipped at Hiiro’s reasonable clarification. “We grew up together in the village, and he was always with us. He protected and looked after us younger kids, so we called him big brother.”

You let out a soft ‘ah’ in understanding. If he hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t have questioned that the two of them were actual brothers. The two of them looked more like siblings than he and Shuna. “Well, welcome to our home. It’s an honor to meet you. What brings your to Rimuru City all of a sudden?”

“It’s a long story.”

The three of you sit in one of the open living areas, and Hiiro tells you the story of his life and how he came to be known as ‘Hiiro’. It seemed a fitting name. As you suspected, Benimaru had never mentioned him because he thought he was dead or something had happened to him, which was why he didn’t come back when the village was destroyed. And vice-versa. This must have been a wonderful surprise for your husband then. To find his long lost friend, comrade, and more or less family member after all this time.

“What about you [Y/N]-sama? What is your story to get here?”

“Oh…it’s a very long, and unpleasant one.” You rebuff while scratching the back of your head. “I don’t want to bore you. And, you can just call me [Y/N]. No need for the honorific.”

“But…you are the Young Master’s wife….”

“Here we’re just [Y/N] and Benimaru.” He told Hiiro. Who still seemed unconvinced, but willing to accept your wishes.

“Well then, if not the whole story, what do you do in the city? Benimaru said you are very capable and had a very important job when we walked over.”

“Did he?” Benimaru grinned at you. “Well, I was an ambassador to the human cities. Acting on diplomatic relations with some of the neighboring countries. But recently—”

As if on que, a sharp cry came from the other room. “I’ll get them.”

“No, stay.” You insist when Benimaru moved from his seat. “You two talk. I’ll get them.”

They seemed to want their mother anyway as [B/N] immediately stopped crying from their nap and reached for you. “This has been my job recently.” You said as you came back into the room with the baby in your arms. “Hiiro, this is [B/N].”

The other kijin seemed mesmerized by the bundle in your arms. You have to wonder if it’s surprise in his brother had a child, or that he perhaps thought he would never see another ogre infant again. “Congratulations brother. They are beautiful.”

“Aren’t they!” Benimaru agreed. Beaming with fatherly pride. “That’s all [Y/N]. Without them, they’d have my ugly mug.”

“Everyone knows how handsome you are, Benimaru. No reason to fish.” You scold him.

[B/N] fidgeted a little, then opened their eyes to the world. The maroon orbs blink as the focus on Hiiro in front of them. Then past Hiiro to their father. Then back to Hiiro again.

Suddenly they were crying.

“What’s wrong?! What did I do?!”

“I think they’re just a little confused on why there are two of you.” You tell Hiiro. Who looked absolutely crestfallen that his brother’s child might not like him. “This happens with mirrors sometimes.”

Hiiro seemed to understand, but still seemed very upset. Who wouldn’t be? Children are inherently innocent. So when one is upset you believe you’ve done something wrong, because what possible wrong could they have done.

Trust in this, it was a peridox you had gone over & over in your head for months since your child was born.

“Come brother. Let’s give them a minute to calm down, and we’ll introduce you properly. I’m sure the next time will be better.”

“Of course.” Hiiro got up with Benimaru, and the two went outside together.

The second time did go better. Until [B/N] started pulling on Hiiro’s hair. He laughed it off, and commented on their strong grip.

You could see why Benimaru and the others thought of him as a big brother. And it was nice to see your family growing even further.

[x]

[ahmedeed]

Struggle for Survival in Gaza"

Chapter One: Our Days Amidst the War

In the heart of Gaza, in the small town of Az-Zawayda, which was once filled with life, we lived a simple and peaceful life. I am Ahmed, 35 years old, married to Jihan, 29 years old. We were blessed with three children: Rosela, 8 years old, Rital, 5 years old, and Mohammed, 3 years old.

But this peaceful life quickly vanished with the onset of the war, which destroyed everything around us. Az-Zawayda was once home to our dreams, and now it has become a haven for death. The trees we planted together, and the roads we walked on, have turned into rubble and an eerie silence. 💔

Chapter Two: Attempting to Escape

Like hundreds of thousands of families in Gaza, we tried with all our might to find a way to survive. We heard about the Rafah crossing, which could be our way out of this hell. But the truth is harsh. The cost to cross through Rafah exceeds $5,000 per person, making our dream of escape almost impossible. 💸

We didn’t have that kind of money, yet we tried to find any other means to stay alive. But nothing was enough. The war made it hard to find food and water, and we had to adapt to fear, hunger, and constant anxiety about the safety of our children. 😔

Chapter Three: Losing Hope

Months passed as we clung to any glimmer of hope. We struggled to find a safe shelter, but the random bombings turned every place into a deadly trap. Every morning, we wonder if this will be our last day. Every minute carries a cruelty no one can bear. 😢

Our children suffer, and we are powerless to do anything. Rosela, who was once full of life and innocence, now only asks about safety and peace. Rital, the little one, screams every time she hears the sound of an explosion. As for Mohammed, he doesn't fully understand, but he feels the fear in his little eyes. 😞

Chapter Four: The Big Question

In this situation, where does a person go when there’s no place left in the world? How does one live when there’s no hope of escape? Do children deserve this torture? Do they deserve to grow up in the middle of this chaos and destruction?

A question that haunts me every day: “How will I protect my family from this hell?” 😔

Chapter Five: The Final Plea

I write these words in a state of total despair. I write to ask for help, because we have no other choice. We live in Gaza, where there’s no place to escape, no hope of survival, except through the Rafah crossing—but that is beyond our reach. We fight day after day to survive, for our children, for our lives. 🙏

The war has taken everything from us, but we still cling to life. I hope our story will be heard, that these words will find their way into your hearts. I hope we find someone who will help us escape this hell and live in a safe place, far away from death and destruction. 💔

We need your help. 💔

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A montage of scenes from six months of Israeli siege, bombardment, blockade, and genocide in the Gaza Strip as part of "Israel's" goal of ethnically cleansing the entirety of the Gaza Strip and genociding the Palestinian population that refuses to leave their homeland.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

ISRAELI OCCUPATION COMMITTS DEADLY MASSACRE ON THE EVE OF EID AL-FITR AS GAZA BOMBINGS RAMPS UP ONCE AGAIN

On the 187th day of "Israel's" special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed several massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 122 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 56 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

In the latest Zionist massacre and atrocity, the Israeli occupation air forces bombed a residential building belonging to the Abu Youssef family, located in the Al-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, largely destroying the building and killing at least 14 Palestinian civilians, the majority of which were women and children, and wounding a large number of others.

The attack targeted a residential square housing Palestinian families and comes on the eve of Eid al-Fitr, the celebrations and prayers which mark the end of the Holy month of Ramadan, and the welcoming of the month of Shawwal, a major Muslim holiday.

Similarly, occupation warplanes bombed agricultural lands in the Al-Zuhur neighborhood, north of the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing at least one woman and wounding two others.

In another tragedy, a Zionist sniper shot a young Palestinian man near the Shuhada junction in central Gaza, resulting in the man's death.

At the same time, Zionist occupation forces destroyed a residential tower in the city of Al-Zahra, north of the Nuseirat Camp, in central Gaza.

In the meantime, local civil defense crews continue to recover the bodies of those murdered by the Israeli occupation in the Khan Yunis governate, in the southern Gaza Strip, after the withdrawal of the Zionist army from the area after months of ground operations, with reports that local paramedics transported the bodies of at least three citizens killed by the occupation in the southeast of Khan Yunis.

Occupation fighter jets also bombed a residential home in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, while also dropping bombs in the vicinity of the Al-Khazandar station, northwest of Gaza City.

Several Palestinian civilians were also martyred and wounded as a result of the Zionist bombing of a residential building in the eastern neighborhoods of the Jabalia Refugee Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip.

Meanwhile, as Israeli bombings slaughtered innocent families in the Gaza Strip, Zionist-extremist colonists launched an attack on the Palestinian village of Burqa, located to the east of Ramallah, in the occupied West Bank.

According to local sources, more than 30 Israeli colonial settlers launched an attack on the village of Burqa, firing automatic weapons with live bullets towards Palestinian families, injuring four civilians, including at least one 15-year-old child. The colonists also burned a barn during the attack which was used to house sheep.

The Palestinian Resistance, in particular the Mujahideen Brigades, belonging to the Palestinian Mujahideen Movement, announced today a joint operation conducted with the Al-Qassam Brigades, belonging to the Hamas Resistance movement, in which Resistance forces attacked a unit of Israeli occupation soldiers operating southwest of Gaza City using mortar shells, successfully hitting their targets.

In other news today, Irish Foreign Minister Michael Martin announced the Irish government would be submitting a proposal to the Parliament for the recognition of a Palestinian State in the next few weeks as part of "broader international discussions."

In a speech before the Irish Parliament, Martin said that "None of you has any doubt that recognition of a Palestinian state will happen," and that postponing the decision "is no longer convincing or defensible anymore."

Martin went on to slam the Israeli occupation's genocidal war in Gaza, telling Parliament that he had "no doubt that war crimes have been committed, and I strongly condemn the ongoing bombing of Palestinian citizens of Gaza," adding that the recognition of a Palestinian state could "strengthen the Arab peace initiative."

As a result of "Israel's" special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll among the Palestinian population of the enclave has risen in excess of 33'482 Palestinians killed by the Israeli occupation, over 14'000 of which being children, accounting for over 44% of those killed, while another 76'049 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning on October 7th, 2023.

#source1

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#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[elia-nymmeros]

""A start?" said Ellaria Sand, incredulous. "Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Clegane, all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?" "It ends in blood, as it began," said Lady Nym. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."" The Watcher, ADwD

Rereading ADwD, one of the most interesting aspects of the Dorne plot for me is that constantly, over and over again, the elder Sand Snakes mock Doran for his perceived weakness, for being slow to act, for planning and disguising and lying instead of outright fighting, claiming that he was a lesser man compared to Oberyn, and yet part of me wonders what they thought/might've thought of Elia while she lived, especially when Gregor's head was brought back to Dorne and the Sand Snakes demanded vengeance not only for Oberyn, but also for Elia and her children.

"Her sister Tyene gave answer. "What he always does," she purred. "Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half so well as our brave uncle."" The Watcher, ADwD

It's hard to know because we only have second-handed accounts, but we've been told that Elia was someone agreeable, kind, with a good heart, someone precisely like Doran and very unlike Oberyn. No account of Elia presents her as a bold, outspoken, bloodthirsty, or vengeful woman, which of course doesn't mean that she wasn't, but it means that she didn't choose to present herself as one in front of Dorne and King's Landing court; in fact, some people even remember her as "drab" and "frail". It's very poignant to see the Sand Snakes asking to spill blood and kill innocent people in the name of a woman dead some 17 years ago who, as a matter of fact, probably never wanted to see the entirety of Casterly Rock and Oldtown destroyed and slain, children and smallfolk included.

"Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit." ADwD, Daenerys IV

""We could kill him, to be sure," said Tyene, "but then we would need to kill the rest of his party too, even those sweet young squires. That would be … oh, so messy."" ADwD, The Watcher

It's interesting for me that they learned this bloodthirsty attitude from Oberyn, who of course had almost two decades of virulent resentment because the brutal rape and murder of his sister and her children went unpunished, but who was also the man who probably knew Elia the best and what ideas she held about retribution, not some idealized version of a woman who they probably don't remember. Part of me wonders if the Sand Snakes wouldn't have found Elia cowardly and weak and useless too, simply because she displayed the same ideas about politics and power than Doran, because all accounts of Elia (all three of them) shows us a genuinely gentle and easy-going person who did not murder and poison her way to power as it is common in the royal court.

"I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better (...)" The Watcher, ADwD

"It must have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest." AFfC, Cersei V

I'm not saying that Elia wouldn't have wanted The Mountain dead or that the Sand Snakes were in the wrong for wanting their family members avenged, because Tywin Lannister and his lackeys were evil men who committed several crimes against the Martells and faced no direct repercussions, but the extreme level of hatred that the Sand Snakes show towards everyone who happens to be named Lannister, their willingness to go to a war they cannot hope to win with allies they aren't sure they can trust without any kind of well-thought plan, and the constant derision they show towards Doran and his attitudes... part of me feels like Elia has already been forgotten by them, replaced by an empty figurehead who they can rally around and use to justify their cruelty, while at the same time disdaining the same attitudes that Elia herself was known for...

"Written? If you were half the man my father was—" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

""Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." "The boy has never wronged us."" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

Something something about letting vengeance and senseless violence consume you, about a woman dead so many years ago and yet still loved by her people and her family, about the attitudes we teach our children and how they might end up twisted without a specific contextualization in time and space...

[monkie-kid-oc-showdown]

Fei (@night-owl23)

Pronouns: he/him

Fei is a huli jing that grew up being taught by his mom and many others in his village and while he struggles with his magic growing up he did pretty well with hand to hand and weapon training. He was when he was older he was betrayed by his boyfriend that he was captured and taken to a fighting ring where his powers were under lock and key (think like a gladiator fighting to the death.) Years, decades went by and while he was trapped he had survived, many failed attempts under his belt. But he finally managed to escape along with three children he took under his wing and swore to protect. He had a long journey until he reached home and and even longer one when he realized his old home was destroyed. He powers grew with his desperation to protect those who relied on him pushing past his struggles in the past. It was after he reunited with his family that he decided to follow his sister to live into the large city. It was there he met Sandy and somewhat relaxed.

After s5 he gets plant powers powers before was illusions ranging from solid to like a typical illusion, invisibility, and some very short form of teleportation

Blossom (@blossomnightshade)

A long time ago, Siming, the goddess of balance, allowed one drop of moonlight to fall from the celestial sky, and the scarlet moonflower sprouted from this one drop of the red moon. The red and blue petals shimmer in the blood-red moonlight, both as a temptation and a warning to those who aspired to positions of authority that were well beyond their grasp.

Stories of the unusual flower's relationship to the celestial body above and its immense power for those who were willing to eat its petals began to circulate among the creatures. However, they were unaware of the high price they would have to pay for their desired road to invincibility, — as often as you’ll find in tales of this kind, this gift came with a cursed attached…A fate so hideous and jarring only to make sure that the peace and balance remained intact for the universe and their loved ones…

Given its incredible powers and rich history, the sacred blossom has been regarded as the most potent item in numerous realms. Many also knew that the Moon Drop might either lead to the universe's devastation and disaster or it may bring justice and prosperity to the rights of all people, thus whoever decided to become its new consumer would need to exercise caution. As a result, the moon drop was securely concealed and kept out of the hands of evil and darkness.

However, the flower was harvested in the following years, which led to the emergence of numerous demons and other bad entities that were hunting for the flower's next rebirth or, possibly, for the person who had eaten the moon drop's powers.

This story begins with none other than an innocent little child who went by the name, (Kāihuā) Blossom…

In her childhood, she and her father were being chased after many bad entities as the years passed on. Their runaway was much of a hassle and trouble, but it had never broke the love of the two Huli-Jings for each other.

Until one faithful night, Xiangliu had managed to to corner them to an edge of a cliff, just beneath the East Sea. Seeing no other choice, Blossom’s Father quickly threw his daughter into the Eastern sea to spare her as he fought Xiangliu to his last breathe.

Thankfully, Ao Lie and Ao Guang saved the drowning girl and bought her to the grand palace of the East Sea for shelter. I spent over a week with Ao lie in the Great Grand Palace. Of course, Blossom was grateful to have met so many wonderful and compassionate people in the palace after that save attempt. She had a lot of fun with my new friend, and she admired him for being such a kind brother figure. However, even great things must come to an end. As arranged by Ao lie's uncle, Ao Guang, she was transported to the celestial bars of the Celestial Realm above. As the incarnation of the Moon drop, she gotten a lot of attention for their concerns up there.

Due to the worry and fear that she may become a threat as the Moondrop’s incarnation if she were to fully reach her full potential in the future in result of her traumatic and horrible past. The celestial court and the Jade Emperor came to an agreement - Blossom's prior memories include her upbringing, encounters with innumerable evil beings, bitter runaways, and, finally, her family. Blossom's memories were wiped clean, allowing her to create new ones in the Celestial Realm. She is completely unaware of her past issues and tragedy, as well as her loved ones.

Afterwards, Miss Chang'e and Princess Iron Fan, the Celestial Realm's other residents, and the heavenly minister raised the young Huli-Jing as their protector and guide. She does go to Ao Lie, her best buddy, frequently as well. She also has a very close bond to Redson, making them like siblings together. While she’s also been Nezha’s closes friend, since they were young, to the point that she’s also grew feelings for him.

Blossom used to frequently inquire about her past and her acknowledgement of her biological parents, but she quickly stopped talking about it after receiving the same justifications—that she was just like every other Huli-Jing in the realm and that her parents had just passed away before she had met them.

Blossom learned and grew up to be a calm and selfless skilled individual ,thanks to PIF’s determine and precise training. She's also shown to be a pure-hearted and honest individual with the guidance of her motherly loving guardian Chang’e. She may turned out clumsy and oblivious most of the time but she’s always there to lend a hand to everyone. She has undoubtedly mastered a small number of extremely strong skills such as: healing powers, crystal manipulation, shapeshifting between a few forms etc. Though, she is still oblivious to the bigger potential of her incredibly power…for now.

When she met the Monkie Gang, she turns out to be the most comforting sister/daughter-like figure to team. She prefers talking things over with her enemies and as tries to find a way to befriend and understand them better. So don’t let her soft-spoken and small figure fool you because if she witnesses any her loved ones being threatened, she won’t hesitate to reach to the breaking point where she appears to become intimidating and possibly become a living nightmare to you.

[eelhound]

"Being scandalized by Republican hypocrisy sort of feels like getting mad at a dog for peeing on your carpet. If anything, you’re the chump for having any sort of expectations for them.

The far more perverse thing, to me, is the way the idea of 'political violence' has been invoked in the aftermath of [the attempted Trump assassination] as something totally alien and un-American. 'There’s no place in America for this kind of violence,' said President Joe Biden. 'It’s sick,' he continued, saying that this kind of political violence was 'just unheard of.' He later said the violence was 'contrary to everything we stand for as a nation.' Former President Obama shared similar sentiments, saying, 'There is absolutely no place for political violence in our democracy,' urging Americans to 'use this moment to recommit ourselves to civility and respect in our politics.' The headline for the New York Times Editorial Board’s take on events was that 'The Attack on Donald Trump Is Antithetical to America.'

I’m sorry, but what country do these people think they live in? We’ve just spent the last nine months being blasted in the face with images and videos of some of the most unspeakable carnage imaginable coming out of Gaza. Most of it has been carried out using U.S.-made weapons. Political violence is so 'antithetical to America' that on the very same evening that the op-ed was penned, the Israeli military dropped eight massive American-made bombs on the al-Mawasi refugee camp, an area that the Israel Defense Force had previously designated a 'safe zone' for civilians to flee. Israel claimed that two senior members of Hamas may have been hiding among the 80,000 civilians sheltering there. According to the Gaza Health Ministry, 90 people are dead and 300 are wounded. One of the survivors described the scene to Reuters: 'I left the tent and looked around, all the tents were knocked down, body parts, bodies everywhere, elderly women thrown on the floor, young children in pieces.' Not long before reports of this massacre rolled in, Israel Katz, the foreign affairs minister of Israel, issued a condemnation of the assassination attempt on Donald Trump, saying 'Violence can never ever be part of politics.' The irony was apparently lost on him.

Many of the people currently condemning political violence don’t actually hate political violence. What they really condemn is violence against politicians. But there is no act of violence more political than dropping bombs on a city of defenseless people because you want their land. Massacres like the one carried out Saturday have been going on for nine months, and, among the political class, they have rarely been condemned with anything nearing the force of the Trump assassination. In fact, the student protesters who spoke out against the war in Gaza — condemning political violence, in other words — were met with state violence themselves, which was cheered on by these same politicians. 

On the contrary, the people right now who are dismayed at political violence are some of its foremost perpetrators. Biden is, of course, selling Israel the weapons they’re using to destroy Gaza and kill scores of its people. Beyond that, President Obama authorized so many drone strikes during his term of office that if he were to apologize to one innocent civilian killed by them each day, it would take him more than three years. Trump, today’s brave victim of political violence, not only expanded those drone assassinations and spoke openly about 'taking out terrorists’ families' but even bragged about ordering the assassination of an American citizen in an act of 'retribution.' 

Even when they’re not directly ordering acts of what we might think of as 'political violence, U.S. leaders oversee a system that inflicts violence on both a national and global scale.

At home, both parties support a for-profit healthcare system that kills tens of thousands of Americans each year who can’t afford medical care. Each week, nearly 150 people (and nearly 1,500 in the wintertime!) still die of COVID-19, in part because treatments for the illness are so unaffordable. The Biden administration has abandoned most efforts to mitigate the virus, including workplace protections, and ended the public health emergency in 2023, which transferred costs of testing, vaccination, and care from government to health insurance companies and individuals. The CDC now tells workers that they no longer need to stay home from work for five days if they catch the illness, and only one state, New York, still requires businesses to pay leave for employees who are sick with COVID. And some state governments have even criminalized wearing masks in public.

The Supreme Court just made it legal for states and cities to jail homeless people sleeping outside. Police, whose departments both parties have showered with increasing amounts of funding, killed more people last year than at any point in the previous decade. The U.S. has so many mass shootings that it averages out to more than one a day, but our leaders have failed to pass even the most basic gun control laws, like an assault weapons ban or universal background checks at the federal level. And after mass shootings, Republican-led state legislators in particular have been more likely to loosen gun restrictions rather than tighten them.

When migrants flee poverty and war to seek relative safety in the United States, they are met with razor wire and buoys with blades affixed in order to maim them. Since the U.S. Border Patrol began its Prevention Through Deterrence program in 1994, the agency reports that 10,000 people have been killed while attempting to cross. Other aid organizations estimate the number to be as high as 80,000. Even those who reach the U.S. safely are often subject to inhumane conditions in immigration detention centers.

The United States provides military support to a majority of the globe’s dictators, which allows them to carry out their own acts of political violence. The U.S. has provided arms to Saudi Arabia as it has carried out a monstrous military campaign in Yemen that has killed more than 150,000 people, including tens of thousands of civilians. U.S. sanctions have inflicted collective punishment on the people living in enemy nations, like Cuba, Venezuela, and Iran, in an effort to foment regime change. One study found that U.S. sanctions on Venezuela, which deprived its people of food and medical supplies, contributed to as many as 40,000 deaths from 2017-2018 within the country. 

Each act of violence described above is a consequence of political actions or political inactions. And I could go on with more examples, going all the way back to the founding of the nation and the genocide of Native Americans. As former Ohio State Senator Nina Turner wrote in Newsweek yesterday, 'America was founded on violence. [...] A nation founded in violence, whose economy is rooted in violence, will have a society that is violent.'  And yet, most of this violence is inflicted on average people, not politicians — which may be one reason our policies are rarely conceived of as 'violent.'

To be clear, I don’t intend to diminish the significance of the attempt on Donald Trump’s life. It was indeed a destructive act of political violence that should be opposed. But the very same people who treat an attack on Trump as some horrifying anomaly — including Trump himself — are perpetrators of vastly greater violence than what occurred on Saturday.

 In response to the assassination attempt against Trump, in an effort to 'lower the temperature,' the Biden campaign pulled its advertisements criticizing Trump from the air. And on condition of anonymity, campaign officials reportedly told Reuters that 'Rather than verbally attacking Trump in the coming days, the White House and the Biden campaign will draw on the president's history of condemning all sorts of political violence including his sharp criticism of the ‘disorder’ created by campus protests over the Israel-Gaza conflict.' (Reuters has since quietly removed this paragraph from the story, though they did not issue a correction or retraction, so the reason is unclear.) Apparently, now that Trump has been shot, he’s no longer a 'threat to democracy,' and they’re instead going to spend precious time bashing voters that Biden already desperately needs to support him. 

This was an election where, in the words of President Biden, 'Personal freedoms are on the ballot.  The right to privacy, liberty, equality, they’re all on the ballot.' But after the assassination attempt, according to Axios, a 'senior House Democrat' says 'We've all resigned ourselves to a second Trump presidency.' Two days ago, Trump was Hitler Jr. Now, the party that has spent the last nine years claiming to be the only bulwark against fascism is throwing in the towel with fascism on the doorstep. 

It could not be clearer that, to the people in charge, all of this is a game and a joke. But seen from their perspective, the decision of Democratic elites to essentially throw the election in an act of decorum does make a sort of sense. Writer and attorney Dylan Saba put it quite well on X: 'Truly beautiful to see the ruling class come together like this… What’s most important is their personal safety — and the love they have for one another.' 

He’s right! People in Biden’s position will be insulated, more than most, from the consequences of a potential Trump victory. They will not be deported if he wins the election. They’ll be able to pay to get their loved one an abortion if they need one. None of them are transgender and at risk of having their legal personhood revoked. Most of them would probably benefit from Trump’s plan to get rid of the federal income tax in favor of a regressive tariff. 

To the extent that the members of the ruling class care about any of this, it’s only insofar as it affects their personal power and well-being. Just look at how Joe Biden has been acting in the past few weeks as he’s clung to the nomination. When asked how he’d feel if his decision to stay in the race results in Trump returning to power, he said: 'I'll feel as long as I gave it my all and I did the good as job as I know I can do, that's what this is about.'

That really is 'what this is about.' This is about them, their comfort, their egos, and their personal glory — all of it completely divorced from the reality of life for the vast majority of people on this planet. And that’s why an assassination attempt disturbs these people so much more than all the death and destruction that is inflicted on the world each day as a result of their actions. We must remember: the fights that matter are not theirs, they’re ours."

- Stephen Prager, from "'Political Violence' is All Around Us." Current Affairs, 16 July 2024.

[trickstarbrave]

I got one of those “based on your likes” posts bc I guess supporting Palestinians is the same as wanting to see Zionists say this shit

Anyways

Your “country” is the reason they’re dead. They refused to actually accept the hostages back. They have gone out of their way to kill the hostages. Your government actively fanned the flames of vitriol and hate because a terrorist group makes a good cover story for genocide. They let a 20 something young adult die so they have an excuse to carpet bomb civilians.

“Let people mourn the death of a civilian they knew—“ not with that language I won’t. Calling them baby murderers and house burners like your soldiers haven’t done that on a far larger scale? Like your soldiers don’t take civilian hostages and torture them so throughly they’re mentally destroyed and them make dumb fucking tiktoks about it?

They love two hours from your house because you live in a settler colonial state commiting active genocide. You think you have it bad because you know three dead people at 18? There are orphaned children 2 hours from you. There are children trapped under rubble their parents can’t even bury. There’s babies being born in the worst situations with no meds. There are parents having to drag their children’s dead bodies around with them. There’s people who have lost their entire families. There’s children missing limbs.

“What are they going to do now?” I don’t know what are you neighbors going to do next? Palestinian lives to you don’t matter, all they are to you are baby murderers and house burners right? Or do you think “the innocent” Palestinians just have to be collateral to “get justice”.

God I hate this shit so much I could throw up

[aprillikesthings]

I've been reading a book that's a fictionalized account of a year in the life of a serf woman in the middle ages. There's no real plot in a traditional sense, it's more like a "slice of life" kind of thing? The main point is to teach you about the daily life of an average person.

The author doesn't say when in the middle ages it's supposed to be taking place. It's definitely somewhere in England, but while some of the characters' names imply post-Norman invasion (which was 1066), the way things are portrayed implies a couple hundred years before that. I could quibble with the accuracy of some of it--soap was commonly used starting in the 800's; also they totally had linen before that!, why are they amazed and confused by seeing a piece of it; also England was Christian but people still engaged in a lot of folk religion and you don't see much of it in the book, if any.

But on the whole it's a very empathetic way of looking into the past.

It's a stressful read sometimes!! Which I suppose is part of the point. The POV character, Marion, has two living children. She had a toddler son die, and a 12-year-old daughter die, and three other infants that died; and that was not in any way unusual for that time period.

Life is just incredibly precarious: A cottage burns down because of a child's innocent mistake. A healthy adult man dies from a wood splinter wound getting infected. Marion spends all day spinning wool (the village's major trade good--she's required to give a certain amount of it to the lord every year) and a day's spinning is destroyed by accident by her toddler and she's understandably upset.

(Every spun on a drop spindle or seen someone else do it? That shit is SLOW even when done by someone with a lot of practice. And you have to spin SO MUCH to make any clothing!)

Making sure they have enough to eat takes up the vast majority of everyone's time and back-breaking labor, and a spell of bad weather could cause the whole village to starve. Marion is constantly checking on the peas in her garden, and wondering is her goat still giving milk? How many eggs did the hens lay? (how many does she still owe to her lord?) Have mice or mold gotten into her flour? And that's on top of making sour milk/cheese, and bread, and deciding when to slaughter the pigs, and making sure every last bit of those pigs is used for something or safely preserved for later. A tremendous portion of every day is just growing, preparing, and preserving food; by herself or with other villagers.

The lord and lady of the hall are fascinating, because while yes they "own" a few dozen people (because they own the land they live on, really; the serfs belong to the land, legally speaking) and pay/hire freemen, they're not idle rich people. The lady of the hall is constantly making decisions and is hardly above doing physical labor herself, including making bread and ale. The lord and lady clearly take their role seriously and are trying to make good decisions that keep the entire village fed and clothed and housed, including caring for widows and orphans. Nevertheless, they do have a higher standard of living than any of their serfs, and still have an inordinate amount of power over their lives; including deciding who can marry, and they mete out punishment when they feel it's necessary.

They just own so, so little. Marion has two wool dresses, and for most of the year she's wearing both. She has one pair of shoes, which she only wears in the winter. When the lord comes back from trading their wool thread for (among other things) a year's supply of salt and a few new iron pots, the lady of the hall has to figure out who, out of many families, needs a new pot; most families only have one. Marion's husband is the village carpenter and he knows exactly how many nails he owns, and saves bent ones for the visit from the tinker who straightens them out.

ANYWAY. Tl;dr: It's an absorbing book, and every time I put it down and am yanked back into the current day, I just think: holy shit. I am so comfortable, all of the time. And I have SO MUCH STUFF.

My life is so, so easy.

[thelearnedwobbly]

See normally I'd just block this and move on, because while this is just plain wrong, and not only that, it's dangerously wrong, I normally just do not have the wherewithal to unpack posts like these, nor do I typically have the leg to stand on, but someone I care about deeply reblogged this, so I feel a need to unpack the assumptions being made here.

I'm Irish. Should mention that up front. I have family who fought in our wars of independence going back literally centuries, and I can literally name family members who fought with the Fenian Brotherhood and the First IRA, including survivors of the Easter Rising, Irish War of Independence, and Irish Civil War(incidentally my great granddad was all three)

The cause of Irish independence is extremely deeply held to me, and realistically if I'd been born a couple decades earlier I probably would have been a Provo.

And before someone makes the argument that that makes me a hypocrite, that if I support Irish independence and the reunification with the occupied North then I must be racist--I support free Palestine. I believe that they have every right to live safe and happy lives without the IDF brutalising them, without the threat of bombs or rockets or tanks destroying their homes. I believe that they deserve to be fully independent and equal members of the international community. Hell, I'm an anarchist, so I'd rather we tear down borders altogether, but we're not there yet, so I'll settle for harm reduction and national sovereignty.

The problem is that this entire argument I keep seeing--that Palestine are just defending themselves, that they're freedom fighters no different from any others, that they're only being called terrorists due to racism or zionism or islamophobia--is predicated on a massive logical fallacy.

It's one that a lot of bad actors--including those in Israel--are counting on you to not notice.

Hamas is not Palestine.

This is not a case where the people attacking Israel are a group of grassroots freedom fighters who just want a better world. Hamas are a theocratic authoritarian minority government with a massive paramilitary wing that is occupying the Gaza Strip. The IDF do not have a formal presence inside the Strip, but Hamas does.

Hamas are not freedom fighters. Their founding charter calls for the extermination of all Jewish people. It calls not for a free Palestine but for a mass pogrom of Israelis, and the establishment of a far-right islamist regime instead.

Hamas opened this war by killing thirteen hundred innocent people. And you can try to claim that they were 'settler-colonials' or whatever buzzword is the current way to describe living, breathing, thinking, feeling, hoping people--many of whom in the Kibbutzes Hamas destroyed wholesale, slaughtering children alongside noncombatants--were pro-peace activists. Leftists and progressives who wanted the same thing this post ostensibly does.

Palestine and Hamas are not interchangeable. Hamas is not the only possible answer--they are not an example of extremists being the only ones willing to fight, as sometimes happens in history, and I know this, because Fatah is right there.

Fatah, who have a democratic majority in the West Bank. Fatah, who want a peaceful two-state solution. Fatah, who have a militant wing they use when necessary. Fatah, who do not use their citizens' bodies as human shields. Fatah, who do not call for the extermination of their enemies, down to the last man, woman, and child.

Men, women, and children who did not ask to be born in Israel. Innocent people whose only 'crime' is of faith. People whose ancestors moved to Israel on a broken British promise, just two years after the end of World War Two and the Holocaust. People who, until the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin, had a real chance at peace through negotiations with Fatah...until the far-right of Israel shot that peace dead, then tore up the Oslo Accords and took power.

The Israeli government under Likud are absolutely an increasingly-corrupt right-wing regime intent on theocratic and autocratic rule...but the Israeli people are not their government any more than Palestine is Hamas. This is not a war of revolution, and Hamas are not freedom fighters, any more than Likud and the current IDF are liberators or whatever propaganda they're spouting right now. But they were attacked first, and not in the manner of a freedom fighter; not in the desperate use of limited force against civilian officials because every other option has been closed to them; wanton, pointless slaughter and kidnapping; rape and torture of random, innocent Israelis, many of whom were anti-Likud. The IDF had entire units on strike due to Netanyahu's attempts to gut the judiciary and increase his own power; there were protests in the streets. And then Hamas killed their families and kidnapped their friends, and many of them picked up weapons to defend themselves. Do you blame them?

There is no easy 'good guy' or 'bad guy' here, and I question Tumblr's current fixation on trying to find one; sometimes, two right-wing regimes hellbent on establishing theocratic rule go at each other, and the civilians--and the people who actually want to fix the problems of their forefathers--get caught in the middle. That is who you should root for.

I just...do not understand how so many people who should know better have failed to research this before making their voices heard; I barely understood this conflict a year ago, and I have refrained from saying anything until I'd done my own independent research. Now I can avoid putting my foot in my mouth, and I'm so late to the races I'm seeing people I genuinely care about claiming an antisemitic terror organisation are comparable to an Irish nationalist militia whose primary motivation when the fighting began was preventing pogroms against catholic neighbourhoods. And that really fucking hurts, to say nothing of how badly my Jewish friends are hurting to see leftists and progressives unbashedly rooting for Hamas or framing the IDF as intrinsically evil; claiming that Jewish people in Israel should pay for the mistakes of terrified ancestors and the idiocy of the British government of the late 1940s. Even if you don't mean to be antisemitic, even if you just care deeply and want to avoid seeming like you're sitting this one out, I promise you, the people you're trying to support wouldn't want you to root for their oppressors--whether that's Hamas or Likud.

I'm trying to find a pithy or cathartic way to end this. I can't. This is a humanitarian tragedy with no easy answers, and people I know don't mean to are repeating propaganda uncritically from both sides because they don't want to be seen to be silent--take the time, breathe, think about what these posts are trying to sell you, and do your own research. And I get that this is a busy, shitty world, with a lot going on, and you can't always make that time, but if you can't do that, you need to try to avoid weighing in, because you're extremely liable to do more harm than good. And I don't mean 'boost people who seem to know what they're talking about', I mean don't even reblog a post if you can't vet it, because the information war is active, and you are very likely to become a casualty.

you know when irish people were fighting for freedom the rebels were never considered revolutionaries or freedom fighters. we had only ever been called terrorists by the british government, because when you call a people fighting for their rights and their freedoms terrorists you can distance yourself from them. people aren't fighting because they've been radicalised by 800 years of colonialism or 75 years of brutal settler imperialism, they're fighting because they're dirty terrorists trying to hurt our democracy and kill our children. and now we don't have any responsibility to reckon with the years of subjugation and settler violence and attempted genocide, because how can you expect us to deal with terrorists? the same story repeats itself over and over n it's shocking how people will eat it up every time when it comes to protecting and maintaining western power.

[saltirebookreviews]

Book: Arise the Queen

Author: Tanya Anne Crosby

Series: The Goldenchild Prophecy, Book #4

Release Date: October 15, 2024

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Book Length: 379 Pages

Overall Rating: 5/5 Five Stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire Flags

Arise the Queen is the exciting conclusion of the Goldenchild Prophecy series… This is the last installment!

Pretania 11th Century BC

Queen Gwendolyn is furious and feels totally betrayed by Málek, the one who owns her heart. However, she must save her people and Pretania and the Kingdom of Cornwall and she needs an Army to do this! There is one tiny problem: she only has an Army of three! So she desperately needs assistance, soldiers and sword arms!The only way Gwendolyn can accomplish this is by saving her people and country and not allowing her traitor husband the usurper to continue to destroy Pretania. Locrinus (Loc) is killing anyone in his path, this includes innocent men, women and children who won’t bend their knees to him! Of course Gwendolyn is at the top of the list, a woman he had imprisoned with the help of his mother and mistress who finally escaped his prison!

Traitor Loc murdered her family, cousins and friends, imprisoned Gwendolyn, taking her all her jewels and gowns and giving it to his mistress! Not even allowing her to bathe, forcing her to live in filth like an animal! It was humiliating and Gwendolyn swore he would pay for every horrible thing he has done to her, her family and the people she loved and cared about, especially her father! To do this Gwendolyn needed assistance, since she was forced into the fae realm she would use it to her advantage. She would try to seek an audience peacefully with the fae King and ask for his assistance with fae warriors. Unfortunately this fae King hates Gwendolyn and the human realm she represents! On top of this she has memories she has forgotten that needs to be remembered. Is that even a possibility?

However things don’t go as smoothly as Gwendolyn had hoped. Actually it is a total disaster with her mortal life possibly in danger! Furthermore the two fae people she trusts the most in the world with their grinning porbeagle teeth feeling totally betrayed like her soul is being emotionally ripped apart. With no aid to form an Army what will Gwendolyn do? Has Malek destroyed her love and betrayed her in a way which is worse than Loc’s imprisonment and humiliation? Afterall she did not love Loc but she still loves Málek even with his betrayal with Esme. She has learned some things in the fae realm but no matter with weapons at her disposal or a defense coat she still needed an army.

Can Gwendolyn do this with a broken heart? Does she and Málek have a future living in two different realms? Read and discover Gwendolyn and Pretanis’s fate in this spellbinding The Goldenchild Prophecy Series finale that readers will absolutely love!

All I can say is wow my heartbeat is still racing as I just finished reading “Arise the Queen” the fourth and last book in the Goldenchild Prophecy Series and what epic fantasy read it is that just blew my mind! I am wiping my tears away and definitely recommend a box of tissues ready at this emotional rollercoaster ride! This book just gripped me right from the start with so many twists and turns just hold onto your seat! It is no wonder that Tanya Anne Crosby is one of my most favorite authors that I have been reading for over thirty years! Crosby’s world building is absolutely brilliant! In addition the plot line is complex, emotional, complicated, awe-inspiring with well developed characters you can’t help but love or despise! I am sad this is the end of the series but it was superbly done, showing how Queen Gwendolyn puts her country and people before anything, even her heart.

This series finale also answers a lot of unanswered questions that I won’t tell as it would spoil the story. Especially since Loc has an army of ten thousand warriors and she has an army of three. I do not feel this is a stand alone book as I feel you need to read all four books to really comprehend Gwendolyn and Málek’s actions but each book is an excellently read that is beautifully done. Obviously Crosby based this on the real first Queen of England but made it an exhilarating magical fantasy novel that is a total masterpiece!I have loved all four books and this finale was pure perfection as each book gripped me right from the start. As this book made me feel so many things I laughed, cried and sighed. A phenomenal series conclusion that was perfectly done! A book I absolutely loved!

The Goldenchild Prophecy Series

1)The Cornish Princess

2)The Queen’s Huntsman

3)The Forgotten Prince

4)Arise The Queen

Disclaimer: I received an advance copy from Oliver-Heber publishing. I voluntarily agreed to do an honest, fair review and blog. All thoughts, ideas and words are my own.

[creativegnu]

The Goth family

The house at the end of the lane near the park in Pendula View therein lives the Goths. At night it gives passer-bys a shrill down the spine. The entrance way looms three stories and the door squak as it opens. Some say ghosts roam at night. If you dare knock on the door you are met by a charming woman, a prankster, or one of two geeky children.

The Goths rebuilt the house after a fire destroyed the century old family residence of the Goth family and Mortimer's ancesters. A falling chandelier full of burning candles the rumour goes. It fell down and the house caught fire. Only the fireplace, chimney and some of the foundation is original. Unfortuneatly Mortimer's father died in the fire.

'Cassandra?!'

Alexander's hard commanding voice sounded from afar, then, much closer. It was accompanied by the complaints from the front door, and the echo from the tall, three story, empty walls. 

'You're not allowed in here, and you are cheating. It’s an outside-only game.' Alexander explained in his usual didactic tone. 

‘Yes, I’m sorry Alexander.‘ Alexander was a spoiled child, and Cassandra knew how fond he was of being in charge. Whatever they played it was by his rules. 

‘The doors were open, and I thought I heard someone calling for help.‘ Cassandra had truly heard a voice, or at least it had sounded very much like a voice. Yet, even though she had been certain it came from inside this house, after going in, the direction of the sound had been indistinguishable. Almost as if it came from the house itself. Cassandra was both enchanted by, and a little scared of the old house, but wanted to go exploring. 

‘I dare you to go to the second floor. I heard from someone in class that's where the ghosts are.‘ She offered with a sweet innocent laugh. 

‘That’s stupid, ghosts are made up stories so children will do as they're told.‘ Alexander knew. ‘I'll show you. I'll go up first to see if it is safe, and then I'll come back and take you upstairs and you will see for yourself there are no ghosts.‘