#angry Nile

[jezcat-18]

Guns 2 Roses Manchester O2 Ritz 27/07/2024

Not real GNR but I love these guys, and will definitely see them again soon!

[justaz]

keith has blind faith and complete trust in lance. he could be completely zoned out, not even listening, just not aware of his surroundings at all but the second lance stands up and is pissed off, keith is right on his heels ready to beat a bitches ass.

[adas-kx]

THINGS I WANTED NILES TO SAY (OR DO).

BREAKING MY SILENCE, I LOVE THIS SCENE. | OPINION:

I always wished Niles would give Maxwell a black eye every time he acted like a dick to C.C., because the man was more than aware of C.C.'s feelings and took advantage of that more than once. But since the script was a son of a bitch with Niles and C.C., they never let him act, beyond a mild rebuke at the end of the series. I like this scene because it's a representation of how far he's willing to go when he's pushed on the edge.

I'm more than sure Niles would have punched the shit out of him for everything he did, if it weren't for the fact that Maxwell "asshole" Sheffield was the one who paid his checks.

[imfromthedeepblueunderworld]

more stamps and blinkies, mostly meme ones tho loll, if u wanna request a stamp or blinkie then just go to my ask box thingey ☆

[mila-bee]

When he’s protective 🥰

[emblemxeno]

WHAT. DADDY'S HOME.

Whore!!!

[phatburd]

A preview of something that's on my WIP back burner. I'll get to it when I get to it. I got a couple of other things percolating right now that have my attention. This idea, however, is one I've been wanting to do for a long time.

I figure, I'm working on a fic with pre-immortal Booker in it, I may as well give Nile the same pre-immortal treatment.

[harmonyverendez]

Remmao is the worst brother on the planet. Just because Ramesses kept secrets from you doesn't give you the right to beat your brother.

Your ass is hiding secrets too, why don't we ( the fandom ) and Ramesses beat your ass as well?.

Shaking my head.

And here I thought you were misunderstood.

Fuck you Remmao! 🖕

P.S. - and the fact that Ramesses is okay with this shows this happens often or has been happening for years. Ramesses doesn't even recognize it as abuse and the fact that he still loves his brother after that shows he has been doing this and Ramesse's mind is just okay with it, it's sad really. We must protect Ramesses.

Hashtag #ProtectRamesses

[nilesmoon]

Kiryu you piece of shit. You won't let Yuta die for exactly the same reason why you decided to fake your death you bastard. You call bullshit when Yuta says "I'd rather die than to be the reason why my child will be danger" but then turn around and do it yourself FUCK OFF YOU DUMBASS

[khaylin27]

Guilty as Sin?

pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader past relationship

series: the tortured poets department and part two of so long, london

synopsis: after the tragedy of y/n norris and carlos sainz, y/n moves on with her brother's new teammate, oscar piastri. can she feel guilty as sin in this new relationship?

warnings: drinking; a small segment of smut; the media being snakes

author's note: none i'm just happy that y/n is finally happy 😭

Drowning in the Blue Nile He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while

After Lando's birthday celebration, Oscar decided to drive you guys back to your hotel since he was the only sober one between the three of you. As Oscar drives his McLaren Artura down the Las Vegas strip, one of your favorite songs 'The Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing. "This is one of my favorite songs."

"This is your favorite song too?" The Aussie says surprised.

"Yeah, but I haven't heard it in a while. My ex boyfriend hated this song because it was 'too chill' for his music taste." You say recalling the time Carlos got mad at you for playing this song while he was driving. It still hurt thinking about Carlos. How can you stop forgetting someone you've loved for so long? "Is it possible to turn it up?" You ask so you can numb the pain that you felt from Carlos.

"Will Lando wake up if you turn up the volume?" Oscar asks you and you turn around to see what he was doing. Lando was knocked out drunk from partying too hard.

You giggle at his question, "I'm pretty sure he'll be okay." Oscar smiles at the giggle you made. "I'm going to turn it up." The Aussie nods and you both start singing the lyrics to the song.

"Sometimes I walk away. When all I really wanna do. Is love and hold you right. There is just one thing I can say. Nobody loves you this way. It's alright, can't you see? The downtown lights" You and Oscar sing the lyrics in unison and smile at each other.

Little did you know everything was going to be alright with Oscar by your side.

This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks Throwing my life to the wolves Or the ocean rocks

The night of the Las Vegas Grand Prix, it felt like you were in cage with all the lights and cameras on you. This was your first time back in the paddock after the tragedy that happened in July 2022.

Oscar walks out of room in the paddock he hears you crying in Lando's room. "Hey Y/N. Are you okay in there?" He doesn't hear anything from you which starts to worry him. "I'm coming in."

When he enters the room, he sees you crying on the couch and sits next to you. "What's going on pretty girl?"

"I hate him so much. I spent so much of my youth throwing my life for him and Ferrari and he has the audacity to talk crap about me to the storm of reporters outside." When you were trying to walk through the paddock to get to the McLaren garages earlier, one of the reporters asked if you had any comments about Carlos talking about you to other reporters. You were confused at first, but once you got the time to watch what Carlos said in interviews it got you so angry. He started bad mouthing you and your three year relationship you had with him. He even started bad mouthing your brother and the McLaren team.

As you're still crying, Oscar decides to give you a hug. "I understand that you went through a lot in your relationship with Carlos and still are. It isn't right for Carlos to bad mouth you or anything related to you. That's very immature of him." Oscar wipes the tears that fall from your face. "It's okay to feel this way Y/N. You're allowed to cry. But it's time to crack these locks from Carlos and start throwing rocks at that past relationship."

You smile a bit at what Oscar was telling you. "You're right, Oscar." You stand up and fix yourself up.

Before you both leave the room, Oscar kisses your temple. "I'm always here for you Y/N." You felt butterflies after Oscar kissed your temple.

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind? One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die

After Lando and Oscar got 5th and 6th place at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, you guys decided to hang out back at the hotel. Little Lando fell asleep after a couple rounds of alcohol, it was only you and Oscar talking.

You were a little tipsy from the rounds of alcohol you had and you accidentally told Oscar something that was only for your mind. "You know Oscar. The past two weeks, I've started to have a crush on you." Oscar was shocked when you told him, but you couldn't care since you were tipsy.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're written 'mine' on my upper thigh." Oscar laughs at your little pick up line and you notice. "Hey don't laugh at me trying to confess that I like you." You lightly slap him and he politely apologizes to you. "But only in my mine?" You question yourself.

"Why only in your mind?" he asks you.

"I don't want to move too fast. One slip and I'm falling back in love with one of my brother's teammates." As the words leave your mouth, Oscar kisses you in the lips.

"Oh what a way to die then." You both smile at each other and he kisses you once again.

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk

During winter break, you decided to spend some private one on one time with Oscar in Australia. Before you two left you had to tell Lando about your fresh relationship with Oscar. Lando was shocked that you two were together since he was 23 and you were 26 but overall supportive for you. Lando did have to give Oscar the "if you hurt my sister, I'm going to kill you" talk. Oscar jokingly responded back "it's okay. I like my women a little older." Which got all of you laughing.

As you watch Daniel and Oscar paddle board on the Australian coast line, you were talking with Heidi. "So how long are you going to keep your relationship a secret?" she asks you.

"Well our relationship is new. I like keeping our relationship locked, only for us to enjoy for now. Let's call the vault our relationship in 'y/nscar' with a lowercase too." You both giggle about the vault idea.

"You look happier Y/N. I know that you're still grieving the years you had with 'the man that shall not be named.'" You both laugh about 'the man that shall not be named,' but it fells good to finally be able to laugh about your ex, but you had a feeling you were moving on too fast.

"Do you think I'm moving on too fast with Oscar?" You ask Heidi.

"Someone told me. There's no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk. You're really in love with Oscar and you're finally healing." She explains to you.

You both look at the Australian coast line and see your men coming back to where you were sitting. "You guys enjoying the view?" Daniel asks the both of you.

"Definitely." You answer Daniel's question and give a kiss to Oscar.

"I love you honey." Oscar says and kisses you again.

"I love you too."

My bedsheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Building up like waves Crashing over my grave

That night after spending time with Daniel and Heidi, you both decided to take your relationship to the next step and have sex. Let me tell you it was the best you ever had.

For once a man put your needs first before his own. As Oscar was eating your pussy out, you screamed his name like never before. Carlos never got down on you once during your relationship.

After Oscar ate you out, he decided to insert himself in you. The waves of pleasure were building up as he kept thrusting himself inside you. You both spent hours making love.

"How was it?" Oscar asks once you both reach your climax.

You kiss him passionately, "It was the best sex I've ever had love. I could rest in peace now." You say jokingly and he laughs. "I love you so much."

"No I love you more." You two laugh again and kiss once again.

What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me Is actually what's holy?

Your private love didn't last for long as f1drama instagram reporters on the two of you.

f1drama BREAKING NEWS: McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, spotted with his teammate's sister, Y/N Norris in Australia earlier today. Sources at the scene say that they were on a date and were very loving to each other.

It's embarrassing to see Lando Norris' older sister not only with another driver on the grid but someone 3 years younger than her. Carlos Sainz, her ex fiancé, definitely dodged a bullet on marrying Y/N Norris.

"That's so disrespectful for the media to be following us while we're on break." Oscar says angry that the media was following you two around Australia. "It's disgusting what they put in the caption of the post. They even added Carlos in there which is such a low blow."

You try to calm Oscar down by hugging him and pressing kisses to his jaw. "It's okay love. I knew the media would react like this once they found out."

"I just thought we would have time to keep our relationship private." Oscar says as he rests his chin on your head and continues to hug you.

"I know. All I need is you right now." You say as Oscar holds you tighter. The way that Oscar holds you felt holy to you. You felt like everything would be okay with just him by your side.

I choose you and me religiously

yourinstagram i choose you and me, religiously. @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri love you always and forever honey 🩵

liked by author

landonorris yay i finally got to keep a secret for so long!

liked by author

yourinstagram i'm surprised. very proud of you little bro.

danielricciardo wow no photo creds @yourinstagram 😒

heidiberger_ let her be down bad for oscar 😭 liked by author yourinstagram what my girlfriend said @danielricciardo 😌 danielricciardo @yourinstagram hey she was my girlfriend first!

taylorswift the guilty as sin lyric 🥺���

liked by author and oscarpiastri

user1 mother approves of my other mother being happy 🥹

user2 @taylorswift ARE YOU HINTING THAT GUILTY AS SIN? IS ABOUT THEM !??

user3 she's glowing in her new relationship rn

user4 @yourintagram i don't get the hate about her moving on with oscar 😭 she's more happier with him than when she was with carlos

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb

[bestedoesmeow]

BIGGEST FAN

pairing : @carlossainz55 & @youruser

in which you have a fan page dedicated to your boyfriend

sainzsangel

liked by user56, carlossainz55 and other 2,423 other people

live footage of Carlos praying the god for a girlfriend like me ( he ordered me from amazon, I just arrived)

View all comments

user43: I've been praying for a girl like you but I am not as lucky I guess 🫠🫠

user65 : He must've prayed hard like really hard

user34 : LMAO HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE FUNNIEST WAG 🫡

carlossainz55: my order was a bit late but its okay

↪sainzsangel: be thankful for what you have😊😊

↪user21: she is getting angry sainz watch out

carlossainz55: mi querida you are priceless, no amazon for you

↪user56: when god when???🥲

↪sainzsangel: thank you carlos te amo 🙊🙊

sainzsangel

liked by carlosonoro, user67 and other 1.345 other people

caught in 4K, carlos sainz picking his nails ( not exactly picking them because we have the after picture, but you don't do this unlesss you pick them, only professional pickers will understand)

view all comments

user45: THE CAPTION. WHATTTT I JUS'T CAN'T WITH YOU ANYMORE. UNFOLLOW OR I'LL DIE OF LAUGHTER

carlosonoro : his biggest crime since childhood thank you for bringing this to surface 🫱

↪sainzsangel : my honor, I'd only want what's best for him🙏

carlossainz55 : I don't pick my nails

carlossainz55 : fake rumour people, can't believe you querida

↪sainzsangel: the nile is a river in Egypt my husband is a picker

↪user32: GIRRRRLLLLLLLLL LMAAAAOOOOO

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 456,893 other people

her face after making me dirty on instagram all day

view all comments

youruser : chill chiliiii, you know I adore you, I am crazier for you 😗😗😗

↪carlossainz55: I forgive you, te quiero

user09: I want what ''they'' have...

landonorris: we are working part-time, when I am not exposing you she is

↪youruser: partners in crime😘

↪carlossainz55: good job people, good job

sainzsangel

liked by landonorris, user21 and other 3,345 other people

enough with the vilification, I love him and he is the prettiest boy alive

view all comments

landonorris: I thought we were together in this y/n

↪sainzsangel: we still are, but he is my boyfriend I need to give his credits

carlossainz55: thank you querida, thank you for your sincere thoughts😘😘

↪sainzsangel: don't spoil, you😉

[probablyasocialecologist]

Earlier this week the trade union for doctors and medical students in the UK issued a warning about the number of doctors that have had to quit or reduce their hours due to long covid – the number was one in five. This story was covered in a limited way in a couple of places, which while not good enough was still a welcome jolt of covid reality in a landscape of denial. But tellingly, the media ignored something else the British Medical Association said. Something angry, something as equally demanding of attention, perhaps even more so than the headline statistic. Addressing the current spread of covid, particularly in healthcare settings, they said, “Infection control guidelines are fundamentally flawed: SARS-CoV-2 is airborne. It is outrageous that three-and-a-half years into this pandemic, staff and patients are still, knowingly and repeatedly, being exposed to a level-3 biohazard – a virus known to cause brain damage and significantly increased risk of life-threatening blood complications even in those recovered.” The union entrusted by 173,000 doctors and medical students in the UK to speak on their behalf is angrily castigating politicians and decision makers for refusing to face reality. The reality of covid as an airborne virus, and its reality as something much nastier than a cold or flu. They are demanding the reintroduction of infectious disease controls, and explicitly calling out covid as a brain damaging virus, and equivalent in its danger and infectiousness to yellow fever or West Nile virus. 

[vermilionsun]

Since we’re doing part twos👀 Could you write more nsfw hcs for leander and ais? <3

Yes I can Yes I will Yes I did 💃

Ais

Aka choose one hair colour challenge failed

✩ Topping from the bottom

Self-explanatory. “Gives it almost as well as he takes it,” but he’s in charge babe, you stand no chance. He’ll treat you good though, don’t worry—

✩ Facefucking

YOUR FACE OR HIS, he doesn’t really mind. He knows to appreciate a good blowjob and loves having his mouth stuffed full of you. Man doesn’t ask for much. Plus he thinks it hot watching you manhandle him.

✩ 69

I see this man having an oral fixation—I can’t explain it. Sit on his face and suck him. As tiring as it is rewarding.

✩ M I R R O R S

He’ll be sitting on the edge of the bed, you on his lap, your back facing him. His veiny hands keep your thighs open as he makes you watch yourself bounce on him in the mirror and struggle to keep your balance and pace. Delicious.

✩ Pillow Prince(ss)

Let him treat you, okay?

✩ Comfort Sex

hEAR ME OUT WAIT— This man will never fuck you while he’s angry. That goes against a couple hundred of his moral codes, plus he would never want to hurt you. But, after some time, if things are getting heated, he will be slow, sensual, careful. He’ll apologise if he’s at fault. He’ll hold your hand and leave soft murmurs on the crook of your neck, kiss away any tears that might leave your eyes. Same goes if he knows you had had a rough day, accompanied by enough praises to make you see stars.

✩ S H O W E R

✩ Seasping

ON THAT NOTE— If he’s lying inside the waters of the Seaspring, presumably looking at the wall, and you climb in alongside him, well… He won’t bother to hide the gigantic smirk on his face that rivals the size of his boobs as he pulls you on his lap. It also serves as an amazing opportunity for a not-so-subtle fuck you to to Ocudeus.

✩ Exhibitionism–ish

He’d fuck you happily infront of a crowd to prove a point (with your consent of course). He’d take any chance thrown his way to brag about how amazing his partner is.

✩ Remote Control Vibrators

There has to be an alternative to that in the Touchstarved universe, right? Oh, that bastard’s smirk when he suddenly presses it to the highest setting from across the room while you’re in the middle of a conversation.

✩ Against the Table

✩ Spontaneous Sex

He’s definitely the type to randomly return home/come find you “because he’s horny.”

✩ Caught

He won’t stop his actions, just look at the person who walked in on you with a “what do you want?” look. Could easily pick up a conversation while fucking his partner’s brains out, 100%

✩ Up Skirt/Panties to the side

✩ Car

RIP Ais, you’d love late night car rides and car sex afterwards.

Leander

Aka the Nile is a river in Egypt

🗡  Nipple Play

This man’s tits are MASSIVE. Treat them well. Suck on them, twist and pull on them, make him cry.

🗡  Masochism

Self-explanatory.

🗡  Anal Toys

Previously mentioned he’s an ass guy, so make everyone a favour and ruin his ass (literally). B̶e̶a̶d̶s̶ w̶i̶l̶l̶ d̶o̶ t̶h̶e̶ j̶o̶b̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ f̶i̶n̶e̶

🗡  RIDE HIM &

🗡  PULL HIS HAIR

Sit on his lap, pull his hair and force him to look at you while you ride his soul out of his dick. He’ll thank you once he’ll be able to speak again—give him a couple w̶e̶e̶k̶s̶ days though.

🗡  Magic

Of course, I will elaborate. If he can make flowers of light out of thin air, he most definitely can use his magic for other things, even to a small degree. A restraint, a shock of pleasure, and he most definitely will comply if asked (̶s̶h̶o̶w̶-̶o̶f̶f̶)̶.

🗡  Sleepy

Wake him up with a blowjob once, and you’ll have to continue that routine for the rest of both your lives. He’ll be completely bewitched, still groggy as me moans lowly and oh damn that deep morning voice…

🗡  Gag

It’s both hilarious and incredibly turning on. Try that with your panties, and the man has already cummed.

🗡  Lingerie

Talking about panties… The moment he lays his eyes on you and your fancy little outfit, he swallows dryly. His eyes go dark, and he has to reposition himself because he’s so hard. You’d expect him to rip them off of you immediately, but instead, he guides you to stand in front of his spread–out legs, his hands slowly trailing up your thighs to your ass and waist, feeling the way your skin transitions to the material, his chin resting against your stomach as you pet his hair.

“May I?”

“May you, what?”

“May I take these off?” He tugs at the fabric to make his point. “Please?”

M̶o̶n̶t̶h̶s̶ u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ y̶o̶u̶ w̶a̶l̶k̶ n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶.

🗡  Cumming Untouched

Too easy to achieve with this man.

🗡  Under the desk

The bar, specifically. It’s beyond amusing watching him try to keep his composure in front of the patrons while you’re sucking him off so beautifully.

🗡  G̶l̶o̶r̶y̶ H̶o̶l̶e̶

He̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶, o̶k̶a̶y̶?̶!̶ D̶o̶n̶'t̶ c̶o̶m̶e̶ a̶t̶ m̶e̶

🗡  Candle/Wax Play

He had set them up to make a “romantic atmosphere” but the second your eyes darted to the candle closest to you while you were on top of him… yeah, he might have slightly regretted his decision (s̶p̶o̶i̶l̶e̶r̶s̶:̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶n̶d̶ y̶o̶u̶ d̶i̶d̶ i̶t̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶).

🗡  Public Humiliation

It’s literally canon.

🗡  Caught Masturbating

“Come on darling, won’t you help me a little?”

[starrynightmuse]

Sign of the Times 🏛⏳️ I. Broken Dragonfly Wings

Aemond Targaryen x reader, Library of Alexandria AU

(Title inspired by the Harry Styles song)

Blurb: It's summer in Alexandria, Egypt, and the heat has reached sweltering heights. Children dash toward the banks of the Nile, eager to find relief in the cool waters while ladies fan themselves under the shade of palm trees. Thick mud huts keep families cool under the boiling sun. It would be 1,892 years before the first ice cubes would be invented and nearly two millennia until air conditioning. Even Jesus Christ wouldn’t be born until another 48 years. But you have the teachings of Aristotle and the works of Euclid. You're the first and only female scholar at the Library of Alexandria, the first institute of its kind. All your life has been spent in the pursuit of knowledge — until the arrival of a mysterious young scholar named Aemond. 

Series warnings: period typical misogyny, ancient academia, teacher x student relationship (but they're the same age), violence, fire, sexual content (18+), reader is loosely based off of Hypatia of Alexandria, Targaryens x Ptolemies crossover, character deaths, inaccurate history for the sake of storytelling, accusations of witchcraft, debates on fictional religions, Plato, Daemon being a menace.

Word count: 5,380

Series Masterlist

Your heart was racing, terror coiling in your stomach like a serpent, but you refused to let it show as you looked out at the mob of angry faces around you in the pavilion.

“Traitor!”

“Death to the witch!”

“Kill her!” 

You knew there was no escaping this. This was the end. Yet, even as fear flooded your chest, you refused to let go of your pride. You held your head up high as Prince Daemon approached you where you kneeled. He looked down at you, his cold eyes gleaming in sick satisfaction.

"I'm giving you one last chance, witch," he said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "Renounce your unholy ways and convert to the Faith of the Seven, and you shall walk away unharmed."

You looked up at him, refusing to back down. You hypocrite, you thought. When you spoke, your voice was steady and firm. "I cannot.”

The prince's expression darkened. He stepped closer to you, his lips close to your ear so that no one would overhear.

“There is nothing left for you. It's over. Save yourself and the crown will grant you mercy,” he hissed.

You spat at his face. "If the right to think is treason, then I embrace it proudly. I refuse to remain supplicant to a crown that fears the power of knowledge and labels it treachery."

Daemon's lips formed into a cruel snarl. He stepped back and turned to the crowd, opening his arms in a dramatic display. "The punishment for witchcraft is death!" his voice boomed. The crowd erupted, snarling and roaring like a pack of lions.

Your heart raced as the people closed in with stones in hand, hungry predators circulating their prey. You took a final deep breath, bracing yourself for the onslaught. The first stone hit you, a dull throb of pain that quickly gave way to sharper, intense sensations as more stones followed. You feel your knees collapsing to the hard floor. In reflex, you cover your head with your arms. You shut your eyes, and the last thing you saw was the memory of a single blue eye.

🏛⏳️

6 months earlier.

There's a buzzing in the air, and not just from the hum of people in the atrium outside. Inside your classroom, a large blue dragonfly lazily flies in circles, your students taking turns swatting at it as it zips by. It’s an epaulet skimmer, or an orthetrum chrysostigma, a common dragonfly found around Egypt. Last month, you helped survey them with a fellow scholar who was putting together an account of all the various insects along the Nile River delta. The research project was commissioned by the Princess Helaena Targaryen herself, whom you've heard was quite fond of natural history. 

In the midst of your lecturing, the buzz of the insect feels amplified. In front of you sit nearly fifty pupils, all perched on wooden benches. Most of them are in their teens and early twenties, and all of them were young men with restless energy with wandering minds. While a few showed genuine curiosity, you knew that attendance was merely a formality to half of them, who were only present because their parents were wealthy aristocrats. Yet, you knew it was your duty to broaden their minds and instill some semblance of knowledge into their minds before they go on to graduate and become lords who make decisions that impact hundreds of people.

“Whether you believe in the Seven or the old gods, we accept that the divine has created all that we know,” you say, your voice carrying across the room. “Yet, the mechanisms behind how their creations work are a mystery to us mortals.”

There's a blur of blue near your eye when the dragonfly makes a landing on your nose. You swap it away and continue. 

“For example, what are the gears that drive a drought? Elders of the past have said that a drought is punishment from an angry sun god. Holy men today say it is the repercussion of having vexed the Seven. But how, precisely, do these divine beings bring this drought upon us?” You pause, pacing around the room. “Like observing the work of a craftsman, we can observe the handiwork of the gods. We can observe that volcanic eruptions are one tool that the gods use to give us droughts. Likewise, miasma from a plague, which spews vaporous acid into the atmosphere, can cause rising temperatures and dry up rivers. (Modern Fact check: Miasma does NOT cause plagues. They are caused by infectious bacteria and viruses.)

“Every natural disaster has forces, or causes, behind them. Although perhaps only the gods may know the truth of the workings behind these events, philosophers and believers of science have theorized why certain disasters come to be. Take earthquakes, for example. Compared to droughts, it is much harder for us to determine how earthquakes are created. Aristotle, for one, suggested that it is caused by winds in subterranean caves.”

One of your pupils seated on the front row raises his hand. Ebony curls, dark eyes that remind you of beetles, his robes a deep plum that only money can buy.

“Perhaps Aristotle failed to consider that earthquakes could just be Atticus's mother walking to the market,” he says, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His friend gives him a hearty slap on the back, nearly doubling over with laughter.

You offer a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Flavius." 

Some of your students were more mature than others.

Flavius's jolliness is short-lived, however. The dragonfly suddenly decides to dart into his eye and he lets out a startled shriek. He swats at the insect and tumbles forward off the bench. His friend roars even harder with laughter. Meanwhile, the dragonfly falls onto the floor, its delicate blue wings now broken. A couple students in the back crane their necks in curiosity as Flavius stomps his feet on the insect's body, crushing it mercilessly against the tile floor. Tiny blue limbs smear across the tiles, its wings in pieces like shattered glass. A life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

Flavius settles back onto the bench, straightening his toga with an air of nonchalance. "Apologies, miss. Please, continue," he says.

You choose to ignore his interruption, redirecting your attention to the rest of the class. 

“When we attempt to unravel the mysteries behind the divine's creations, we begin to understand the natural world,” you say, thinking about the dead bug in front of you, its blue wings, the blue of the Nile, all the species of flora and fauna that have survived for eons thanks to its life-giving waters. “This is why we study the discipline of science.”

“Beyond these walls, I have heard many who deem it to be blasphemy,” a voice interjects. 

Your gaze shifts to a young man at the rear of the room. You've never seen him before, not in your classroom nor around the Library. If you've seen him, you would know. With his sharp features, nearly white hair cropped close to his head, and a leather eyepatch covering an angry scar on his left eye — his was not a face you would forget. 

“What do they call you?” You ask curiously, piercing blue eye meeting yours. He seemed a bit older than the rest of your students — perhaps in his mid-twenties, around the same age as you. You briefly wondered where he was from. His features stood out in a sea of dark haired Alexandrians.

"I am called Aemond, ma'am," his voice remained composed and respectful. "Just Aemond." There was a refinement in his speech that hinted of a privileged upbringing, yet the absence of a surname intrigued you. Perhaps he was an educated slave, adept at tutoring and managing the finances of the master's household — literate slaves were not uncommon in the Roman Empire.

"And what have you heard, Aemond?" you inquire.

"It is said that scientific inquiry is seen as an offense to the Seven," he responds evenly, referring to the gods. "Questioning their creations is considered sacrilegious." Several students nod in agreement around the room.

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“It is true that outside these walls, the belief that science is sacrilegious is held by many people,” you say slowly. “Perhaps even now, some of you are wrestling with the idea, torn between conventional thinking and what you are learning at this institute. If this is the case, I implore you to consider this —” 

You look out at the faces of your pupils. Some are focused and deep in thought, while others are frowning. A lone blue eye is fixed on you.

"—What act of love is greater than seeking to understand the object of your affection? Mathematics, physics, and astronomy are not merely academic pursuits but they are expressions of love. They are avenues through which we seek to comprehend and appreciate the intricate beauty of our world.” You gestured around the room. “I am aware that some of you are followers of the Seven. Some of you are devoted to the old gods. But science does not seek to refute the existence of one God over another, nor does it attempt to debunk the existence of the divine altogether. Science seeks only to understand.” You look in Aemond's direction. He's watching, listening intently. “In attempting to understand the natural world, we may better love the divine and appreciate their creations.”

🏛⏳️

The remainder of the class concluded smoothly, and due to the sweltering heat, you dismissed everyone earlier than usual. Despite the hour not yet reaching midday, the air was thick with humidity, making the classroom feel oppressive. You had no desire to keep your students in the stuffy classroom for longer than necessary.

As the others rush to leave the room, you notice that Aemond was kneeling down and using a handkerchief to clean the dragonfly off the floor.

“Thank you,” you say to him earnestly. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he delicately holds the insect through the thin white cloth. He picks up a broken piece of an iridescent blue wing, the shimmer catching the light.

"It's an epaulet skimmer," you remark softly. But you're not looking at the bug, you're looking at him.

"Orthetrum chrysostigma," Aemond responds, using the scientific name. You regard him with curiosity. 

“My sister has a fondness for insects," Aemond explains. "She is extremely gentle with them. She maintains an extensive collection in her room — beetles, caterpillars, dragonflies, and the like. But she only gathers them once they've passed on. Her heart is too big to confine them before they've lived a full life." He gazes at the broken wing in his hand with a hint of sadness. You suspect that he is thinking of more than the fate of the squashed bug.

“Some cultures believe that dragonflies were once dragons who were tricked by a jackal to change shape into insects,” you say, looking at the wing in fascination. “Once they became a dragonfly, they couldn't transform back. As a result, they represented change and illusion.” 

You notice that Aemond's gaze is now fixed on you, a blue eye that reminds you of iridescent wings and the shimmering surface of the Nile on sunny days. You think of mirages in the desert, blue lapis lazuli on polished gold rings, the holographic shells of scarab beetles. 

“They must've been very grand in their past lives,” he remarks.

There's a short silence as you observe him, unsure of what to make of this strange new addition to your class. As your gaze shifts from his eyepatch to his eye, you notice that he's studying you too. Suddenly, you feel very exposed, as if he was somehow reading your entire life story just by looking at you. 

Breaking the tension, you extend your hand. "I realize I haven't properly introduced myself. It's been a pleasure having you in my class," you say, stating your name. He accepts your gesture, clasping your hand in a firm shake.

“You're the daughter of Theon. Your father is the greatest mathematician in all of Alexandria,” Aemond says. “I know who you are.” 

“Do you study mathematics?” 

“No. History and philosophy,” he replies. “But I've read enough across all the disciplines to know who the greats are.” 

“I don't think I've ever seen you around here before,” you note.

"I just started my studies here," he explains. "I arrived last night."

"Where else have you studied?" 

“Nowhere else. All my education has been from tutors hired by my family at home.”

"If you don't mind my asking, where do you come from?" 

He hesitates. “I've been around,” he says at last. 

🏛⏳️

That afternoon, you decided to teach your next class in one of the classrooms overlooking the sea. Arriving early, you unlatch the tall, arched windows, hoping to coax a gentle breath of ocean breeze into the room. As the soft light of the late afternoon filtered through, you arrange your teaching materials as the first of your students trickled in.

The class was on Euclidean geometry. As it happens, this was one of your favorite subjects to teach. You loved to move around the room, using various objects — such as a discus, a sphere, and even a pineapple — to illustrate geometric shapes and their properties. It was more than just memorizing formulas; it was about seeing and understanding the spatial relationships and practical applications of mathematics in the physical world.  

Two thousand years from now, Euclidean geometry would be the foundation for computer graphics, radiology, and geographic information systems. Without Euclid, you wouldn't have video games or anime. There would be no x-rays to help doctors treat broken bones. Without Euclid, there would be no Google Maps, nor would you be able to stalk your crush's location on Snapchat. 

Abruptly, you are cut off mid-lecture as a series of bold knocks echo off the door. You excuse yourself and open the door cautiously, finding yourself face-to-face with six armored men adorned in gold cloaks. You step out into the atrium.

"What is your business?" you ask, your gaze sharp and guarded.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen wants to speak to Theon of Alexandria. I'm told you're his daughter,” the guard at front says firmly.

“My father is indisposed. Whatever business you have with him, you can discuss with me.”

A sudden laugh rings out across the atrium. Every movement in the hall comes to a standstill as scholars pause their tracks and turn their heads. In front of you, guards quickly part ways for a tall man with long silver hair. His armor clinks as he strides towards you, his eyes mischievous like those of a jackal, reminding you of the ancient depictions of Anubis on temple walls. Adorning his shoulders is the same golden cloak worn by his men.

It was the unmistakable Prince Daemon Targaryen, brother of King Viserys and the consort of the crown princess Rhaenyra. But to the smallfolk, he is known as the merciless commander of the City Watch. 

Daemon looks at you like you are the scum on his shoes. “I don't have time for games, girl,” he says mockingly. “Where is your father?”

“Like I've said, he is indisposed,” you repeat, meeting him with a steady gaze.

“I have come a long way from the palace,” he says, offering a false honeyed grin. “You will fetch him for me.” 

You give a smile that mirrored his. It was common knowledge that Prince Daemon frequented the company of his mistress in the city more than he did his own wife at the royal palace.

"I speak the truth when I say my father cannot be here right now, and I apologize on his behalf. However, I am willing to assist you,” you assert calmly.

"This does not concern you," Daemon retorts dismissively. "I am here on business concerning your father's governance of this... academic institution."

"I am a professor here and a senior member of the Library of Alexandria," you counter, maintaining your composure. "After my father, you will find no one more knowledgeable about the affairs of this institute than I am."

Daemon scoffs, his tone condescending. "There are matters too serious to discuss with a woman.”

“Then I'm afraid you will have to come back another day, my prince.” 

“Where is your father?”

“He is sick. Unless you have a direct order from the king, I would prefer not to disturb him from his much-needed rest."  

The unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air — the Library is under the protection of the crown, and Daemon, despite his authority, is not the king. The prince's expression darkens, a sneer painting his features as his knuckles grip around the handle of his sword on his waist. You find yourself locked in a tense staring contest, both unwilling to yield. Moments tick by in silence, each waiting for the other to give in. Then —

“Very well,” he concedes, letting go of his grip on the sword. But you knew from his expression that this was far from over. Daemon casts a disdainful glance around the atrium as if the place offended him before turning and walking away from you. His gold cloaks follow him, their armor clanking all the way to the main doors of the library. 

It is only when the last of them exited onto the street that you allow yourself to release the breath you've been holding.

🏛⏳️

“Daemon Targaryen? What was he doing here?” You hear Cregan before you see him.

You're in the far corner of the main reading room, kneeling before a crate with a new shipment of scrolls that came in from Greece. Gently opening the lid, you discover a signed note from the head of the Platonic School of Athens. Ἕν οἶδα ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα. Αὕτη ἡ γνῶσις ἐμοῦ ἐστιν, it reads at the end. One thing I know, that I know nothing. This is the source of my wisdom. It is a quote by Socrates.

Cregan emerges from behind a shelf, his gray eyes wide with exasperation.

“I can't say that I haven't expected this,” you say to him, picking up a scroll and lightly dusting it off. “It is no secret that Daemon puts up with us only because of the pharaoh.”

“Well, yes. But to barge in here and demand for the Professor—” he means your father Theon.

“He's been sending us threats for months.”

Cregan paused. “When did this start?”

“Four moons ago, when King Viserys reinstated him as Lord Commander of the City Watch.” 

Daemon had been the commander of the city watch once before, but that had been years ago, and back then he was more interested in dealing with criminals in the worst parts of the city. But after some scandal with the Princess Rhaenyra, Viserys had exiled him to Rome. Now, he was back and had regained both his old post as leader of the city guard and the Princess Rhaenyra, whom he took to wife. However, this time, Daemon was turning his policing to the University of Alexandria, more commonly referred to as simply the Library. Apparently, scholars are the new criminals.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Cregan asked, clearly frustrated.

“I didn't want to burden you with it," you reply honestly. "You've been occupied with your research with Princess Helaena these past four moons.”

Cregan rubs his eyebrows. “What has he been threatening?”

With a sigh, you rise to your feet, making space on the shelf for the new scrolls. Cregan joins you, handing over scrolls from the crate as you arrange them carefully in their designated spots on the shelf. 

“He wants to shut down the Library if we don't — and I quote his words — ‘tone down on the science’,” you explain. "He's pushing for censorship, insisting that everything that is taught and published here must be 'safe' for the public. He claims it's about protecting the moral well-being of Alexandrians."

Cregan snorts derisively. "I wonder what his wife thinks of his moral well-being."

"That's an ad hominem attack, Cregan," you chide gently. But you're smiling.

“We're the best scientific research institution in the Mediterranean,” he says. “And, let's face it, we're probably the best in the entire world. We owe it all to King Jaehaerys's proclamation over 50 years ago, protecting our intellectual freedom. Even Daemon Targaryen can't derail something like that.” 

“Daemon doesn't like anything he can't control,” you say. “Nor does he like taking no for an answer.”

“He's a cunt,” Cregan muttered angrily. “His word isn't law but he sure does want to act like it. Did you hear he's been trying to ban all Northerners from entering Alexandria? Unless they're slaves, that is. It's utterly absurd. He's a Northerner himself. His entire family hails from the north—well, not the North, but north of the Mediterranean. Valyria is a small city-state in Greece. Still, that's north of us. If he wants only true Alexandrians in the city, maybe he should consider leaving as well." The Targaryens, although originally from Greece, had become the longest-reigning dynasty in Egypt, despite their non-Egyptian origin.

"What does Princess Helaena think?"

"Of Daemon?"

"Of the North."

Cregan blushes slightly. "She's mentioned that we should visit there together someday," he admits. “For research purposes, of course,” he adds quickly. 

You grin. Cregan has been your closest friend since childhood, and you swear you've never seen him as happy as he's been the past few months.

"She wants to see the direwolves and the aurora borealis,” says Cregan. “I promised her I'd show her around Winterfell when we go." Winterfell, Cregan's hometown, nestled in a far-off corner of the world where snow and frost dominate most of the year — a large contrast to the sandy dunes of Egypt.

“You like her,” you mused.

“Don't be absurd,” Cregan says, but he's failing miserably in hiding a smile.

There's a rustling among the shelves behind you, and the next thing you know, you're face to face with a single blue eye that reminds you of ocean water and iridescent wings.

"Sorry, I was told that the texts about Plato are in this section?" Aemond asks.

"Oh. Yes. Absolutely," you reply quickly, gesturing around you. "I mean, they're all here. Everything on this wall is Plato. We've just received a new collection of his works from Greece and we just finished cataloging and setting them up. They're on this shelf. Here." Your words stumble out awkwardly, and you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Perfect,” Aemond says, looking at you. Neither of you move. Cregan eyes the two of you with amusement. 

“Well, I was just about to head out,” Cregan says cheerfully, sashaying past you. You turn, widening your eyes and mouthing no to him. Cregan simply grins as he disappears behind the bookshelves, leaving you with Aemond. 

“You read Plato?” you ask.

Aemond nods. “I am an admirer of his work,” he says. “You were one of my first introductions to him, actually. I read your thesis on him, An Exploration Into the Metaphysics of Plato, when I was sixteen.” 

“I can't imagine there would be many copies of that,” you say with amazement. “I wrote it when I was—”

“Sixteen,” Aemond says. You blink. He clears his throat. “I've been a follower of your work,” he adds shyly.  

“Oh. I'm flattered.” You’re blushing.

“Is it true that you started studying at The Academy when you were fourteen?” He means the Platonic School of Athens, founded by Plato himself over 300 years ago. Most scholars called it The Academy. It is the first university to ever open in western civilization.

You nod. “I learned mathematics and astronomy here, but my father wanted me to get a hellenistic education on top of it, so he sent me to Greece. I stayed there for four years before returning to Alexandria.”

“I have a brother who studies there,” Aemond shares, leaning against a bookshelf. “My mother, being an Athenian herself, insisted he be sent there. He writes to me sometimes, telling me about the professors he works with. I had considered studying there myself.”

“What made you choose Alexandria over Athens?”

Aemond smiles. “I'm at the center of the world here. It seemed foolish to want to go anywhere else,” he says, his gaze sweeping the library around him. After a pause, he asks, “What made you want to teach?”

“The fear of oblivion,” you reply. "It's the realization that everything we do, everything we learn, and everything we create could be forgotten someday. Teaching, for me, is a way to combat that inevitability. By sharing knowledge, by shaping young minds, I can hope to leave a lasting impact — a legacy that outlives me."

Aemond nods thoughtfully. "So it's about leaving a mark on the world?"

"In a sense, yes," you affirm. "It's about contributing to something greater than myself, ensuring that knowledge endures beyond individual lives and fleeting moments."

He smiles faintly. "That's a noble pursuit."

"It's what drives me," you conclude. As you look at each other, you feel his gaze tracing over your face with a strange emotion. Awe? Admiration? Before you can decipher his thoughts, a scholar approaches the shelf behind you, prompting you to awkwardly step aside.

"I hope you find the resources on Plato you're looking for," you say to Aemond, refocusing on the moment. You pause. "We're hosting a seminar on Plato's metaphysics tomorrow afternoon in the Rose Hall. You should join us."

Aemond smiles. “I’d be honored to.”

🏛⏳️

Daytime in Alexandrian summers can be hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, but when the chill sets in at night, the city transforms into a completely different land. It is under the cloak of darkness that Alexandria truly comes alive.

You’re wrapped in a headscarf, its tail fluttering in the gentle wind from the Mediterranean as you navigate the narrow streets of the night market. Oil lamps and torches cast a soft, flickering glow as shadows danced across buildings decorated with a mix of hieroglyphs and hellenistic art. On the streets, you hear people speaking in both Greek and Egyptian, but also Persian, Moroccan, and other various African and Asiatic dialects. Various aromas filled the air— spices mingled with the savory scents of grilled meats and the sweet notes of baked pastries and delicacies from the far corners of the world. It was the New York City of the ancient world.

Weaving between stalls adorned with colorful fabrics and gleaming trinkets, you spotted one of the gold cloaks from earlier that day. Upon noticing you, he gave you a brief, curt nod before turning his attention sharply towards a group of rowdy children who were blocking the path of a passing wagon.

You make your way to an apothecary stall, securing the medicine your father needs before turning to leave. Suddenly, a hooded figure trips over a wooden crate and crashes into you, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. You fall flat on the cobblestones, his weight on top of you. Your basket with the apothecary vial shatters on the road.

“Ow!” he yelled. You struggle to push him off and get to your feet, then reach down to help him up, steadying him as he sways unsteadily. His hood falls back, revealing a mess of unruly white curls. 

Prince Aegon Targaryen. You’ve seen him a few times while going around the city. The eldest son of Queen Alicent, known to frequent the streets of Alexandria often. Aside from Daemon, he was the only royal that most of the smallfolk could recognize by appearance.

"Prince Aegon," you say cautiously, helping him steady himself. "Are you alright?"

He blinks a few times, focusing on you with bleary eyes. "Why, hello," he slurs slightly, attempting a lopsided smile. For a prince, he seemed dirtier than Diogenes and his barrel.

"Let me help you," you insist, guiding him away from the scattered shards of glass. You maneuver him towards a nearby bench, ensuring he sits down safely.

"I’m alright, I’m fine," he murmurs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He groaned and vomited on the ground next to him. You pat him on the back awkwardly as he empties his stomach.

“Did my mother send you?” he said abruptly.

“What?”

“My mother. She sent you, didn’t she? I can’t catch a break these days,” he grumbled. “The woman is a menace. She’s become crazier since my brother got exiled. I can’t even drink in peace now. She’s sending her spies everywhere.”

You frowned. “I’m not a spy, my prince.”

Aegon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits back heavily on the bench. He tilts his head up at you, scrutinizing you, and then he sighs and hungs his head.

“Forgive me,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m tired of the games. Tired of the scrutiny. I’m tired of the standards that she sets for me, and I’m tired of her disappointment when I fail to meet them. Can’t she see I don’t want any of this? Can’t she just let me be?”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond to the prince's candidness. He was clearly drunk and you’ve only just met him, and you’ve heard unsettling rumors about him. Stories of his frequenting brothels and fighting rings, of fathering illegitimate children and neglecting them. But in this moment, he seemed far from the crooked prince that people whispered about. He seemed like a child in need of comfort.

“Your mother worries about you,” you say gently. “She only wants what’s best for you.”

He scoffs bitterly. “Does she? Tell me, have you ever had a mother who would rather marry you to your own sibling for political gain than let you live your own life?”

You shake your head slowly. “I cannot say I understand fully, but I know you carry a heavy burden.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be free of it.” Aegon leans back, staring up at the night sky with weary resignation. “My brother was lucky. I’d do anything to exchange places with him.”

You recalled hearing news of Queen Alicent’s second son, who had been condemned to work in the mines of Nubia as punishment for the murder of his nephew. The usual penalty for murder was death, and much worse if the victim was a royal, but since the criminal was a prince himself, it changed a few things. The Nubian mines were typically reserved for lesser crimes in Alexandria.

“The one who was exiled to Nubia?” you asked Aegon.

He chuckles bitterly. “My brother didn’t get sent to Nubia. Mother loves him too much for that.”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. You had a feeling that you weren’t supposed to be hearing this piece of information. Yet, Aegon didn’t seem to expect a reply. He’s looking up at the stars, as if he wished to fly off into the heavens and leave his miseries on the ground.

“Thank you,” Aegon finally said, breaking the quiet that had settled between you. Thank you for listening, thank you for not judging, thank you for watching out for my drunken mess. He rose to his feet, a bit unsteady but more composed than before. He took out a pouch of coins. “This is for… what I broke,” he said, gesturing to the remnants of the vial around you, shards of glass glittering under oil lamps. You thought of the broken dragonfly wings from earlier in the day.

You accepted the pouch gingerly. What he gave you was worth much more than the cost of the medicine, but you didn’t want to offend him so you decided not to mention it.

“Should I call the guards to escort you back to the palace?” you asked.

Aegon blinked, his gaze drifting momentarily. “No, no,” he said, waving dismissively. “They’re my uncle’s people. They don’t like me.”

"Will you manage on your own?" you pressed gently.

Aegon straightened his cloak and mustered a tired smile. "I always do," he said. 

With that, the prince turned and started to walk away. You watched as he disappeared into the narrow streets, his figure gradually blending with the shadows.

Chapter II: Coming Soon

[spacelazarwolf]

so this is a trashfire for many reasons.

lack of historical knowledge and complete lack of perspective

israel was not created by britain. israel declared independence from britain. israel was not "designed to funnel jewish people out of all other countries." israel is not "puppeted by america for the purposes of colonizing southwest asia" and the insinuation that israel's goal is to colonize the entirety of southwest asia is actually a documented antisemitic conspiracy theory.

"Even before the State of Israel came into existence, Arab leaders accused Zionists of seeking to rule most of the Middle East," a secret Jewish plot to establish a "Greater Israel" extending from the Nile to the Eurphrates and the Persian Gulf, and south deep into Saudi Arabia. Albeit "farfetched" and a "calumny," this notion has "become so routinized and accepted" that it "now serves as the conventional wisdom in all the Arabic-speaking countries and Iran." Pipes 1998, 49, 69. This is one of two maps in the collection alleged to provide evidence of the "Greater Israel" conspiracy. (The other is ID #2411, "Jewish Imperial Ambitions In Palestine and Neighbouring Countries," 1967.) This map, "Dream of Zionism," shows Zionism as a giant serpent, its back decorated with a pattern of triangles described as "Freemasons Eye, 'Symbol of Jewry.'" The snake's circular outline marks the "Proposed Boundary of 'Greater Israel,'" an area including all of Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, and the Sinai Peninsula; the Nile delta region of Egypt along the Suez Canal and northwest of Cairo; and virtually all of Iraq, including access to the Persian Gulf. It also includes a large portion of northwestern Saudi Arabia, a corridor well over 100 miles wide along the Red Sea, stretching south more than 450 miles from the Gulf of Aqaba to the Holy City of Medina. "Curiously," the conspiracy theorists "see Greater Israel including Medina but not Mecca; the oil fields of Kuwait but not those of Saudi Arabia; and more of Turkey than Iran." The State of Israel is identified as "Occupied Palestine." Pipes 62. This map first appeared in an English-language edition of the fraudulent "Protocols of the Elders of Zion" - the infamous blood libel against the Jewish people - published in Iran in 1985. Ibid. This version appears in a new edition, "Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion," attributed to "The Representatives of Zion, of the 33rd Degree" and published in Kuwait by the "Scientific Research House." The estimated publication date is 2018. The current version of the map varies only slightly from that of 1985 illustrated in Pipes: the words "Symbol of Jewry" have been added in script beneath the legend "Freemasons Eye," and a partially legible signature ("Mir"?) appears at the lower right.

also i'm not sure what the intention was with bringing up the rwandan genocide because rwanda was colonized by germany and belgium, not the british. unless you think literally everything bad that happens in the world is tied to britain... which just so happens to be another antisemitic conspiracy theory that originated in the ussr. all the while jews were being demonized in the uk for being "communist sympathizers." because jews are the symbol of everything you hate, all the problems in your life. that is how antisemitism functions.

2. tokenizing jews for your own benefit

"i had followed [jewish blogs] in an attempt to better understand jewish concerns ... and i've been unfollowing them one by one ... i was getting genuine perspectives on issues i knew very little about - and now, for those blogs in particular, it's impossible to separate what might be a genuine concern verses wht's being weaponised to justify a settler state"

this is an open admission that you are only able to take in jewish perspectives from jews you agree with. and considering the ignorance that's rampant in the rest of the post, my guess is that what you saw was jews who were scared and angry at the way people acted after october 7th and the way antisemitism is rising, but the non jews you follow were insistent that those sentiments could not coexist with palestinian liberation. additionally, the fact you are unable to separate genuine concern verses "what's being weaponised" is your own problem, not ours. the way jewish pain is being downplayed, mocked, ignored, and demonized, the way people have insisted that any mourning for the victims of october 7th or concern for the hostages must be propaganda is antisemitic. and you are actively contributing to that, particularly by saying that western powers arresting people during protests "has been a setup from the beginning" with the very clear insinuation that it is "zionists" who are to blame for the setup.

3. you are really fucking entitled

you are a british goy (not a "goyim" btw, goy is singular, goyim is plural). you literally admitted that you "don't know how to talk about this with the tat and care [you] should be as a [non jew]" and that "certainly there is a degree in arrogance for [you] to talk about judaism as an outsider." and yet you wrote this whole post full of antisemitic conspiracy theories and antisemitic biases while claiming you know how to protect jewish people and while claiming that zionism is "the biggest danger to jewish people right now."

let us be very fucking clear. the biggest danger to jewish people right now is antisemites and the actions they choose to take, and the consequences of those actions.

you say that "if you tell the general public, who are very susceptible to the broader news cycle, that judaism and zionism is the same thing, they very well will be motivated to do antisemitic things, because they believe they are fighting zionism."

this has already happened and has been happening for decades. framing jews as zionists and demonizing zionism as a jewish ideology is not new. it happened all across swana, even before israel declared independence, including during the farhud which was a pogrom that occurred as part of the holocaust in iraq where jews were executed, beaten, and tens of thousands had to flee from government-sponsored persecution specifically and explicitly targeted at jews under the guise of "antizionism." it also happened in the ussr.

the desire to completely separate judaism from zionism as a jewish ideology is not out of concern for jews. zionism is a jewish ideology founded on one possible solution to global antisemitism, as an attempt to keep jews safe from constant persecution, ethnic cleansing, and genocide. it's not a solution you have to agree with, but trying to completely divorce it from judaism only opens the door for the very people you claim to be concerned about who will use zionism as an excuse to attack jews, as they have been for decades.

i have said it before and i'll say it again. zionism is one of the jewish answers to the question "what do we do with the jews?" historically, the answers gentiles have come up with have been "subjugate them, ethnically cleanse them, slaughter them, genocide them." so when you respond to that question of "what do we do with the jews?" with "i don't really care, but not that! and actually your jewish answer is what's causing this in the first place so really it's your fault!" it's kind of fucking bonkers to expect most jews to respond in any positive way. if you expect to have a productive conversation with zionist jews or with jews as a whole, you must present your own answer to "what do we do with the jews?" and if you're thinking "well how the fuck am i supposed to figure out a plan to get antisemitism all over the world to go away? that’s going to take too long!" you almost understand the point. the eradication of antisemitism is a global effort, and one that won't be achieved in our lifetimes. so the least you can do in the meantime is educate yourself, interact with jews in good faith, listen to jewish perspectives even if you don't agree with them, and realize that you are still going to have only scratched the surface.

so yes, you're right. it was extremely arrogant of you to post this, and you are an example of how ignorance breeds antisemitism among the uneducated masses.

[harmonyverendez]

Remmao who let you out of your cage!!!???😤