#now all anyone will talk about is Israel’s retaliation

[thisgingerhasnosoul]

Something I keep thinking about is how whenever someone says: “this is wrong and inhumane,” in regards to Israel’s retaliation against Gaza, the answer, for a lot of people, is, “Well, it’s not our fault; they started it!” And like, I cannot begin to explain how juvenile and callous that is.

“Why should we provide electricity and water to Gaza? Hamas slaughtered us! They use Gazan civilians as human shields! It’s their fault if Gazans die!”

You have no control over what Hamas does or doesn’t do. You only have control over what you can do. Yes, Hamas murdered, raped, and tortured Israeli civilians in cold blood; yes, they use civilians as human shields. And yes, it sucks that they’ve all put the onus on Israel to avoid civilian casualties or provide basic supplies. But Israel can’t do anything about that. What Israel can do is mitigate the harm they’re causing. Is it fair? Perhaps not. But responding to unfairness with more unfairness when you have it in your power to act otherwise is wrong.

Whatever harm is done to you, you have a choice in how you respond to it. And Israel is responding to it in a way that is cruel and unethical.

[northern-passage]

Reblogging something about celebrating terrorist groups murdering and kidnapping people.....I just hope that anyone who enjoys seeing such things will *never* have the experience of having their loved ones disappear one morning.

I hope they never have to see the faces of theirs relatives, friends, classmates, colleagues and neighbors on palestinian tv being beaten and dragged to gaza by terrorist.

Could you imagine seeing your friend who was missing the whole day on palestinian tiktok being kidnapped while people are happy about it? While entire streets are closed inside their homes because armed terrorist raid your city? Breaking into homes to kidnap people?

No matter what side theyre on i hope no one ever has to experience that kind of horror.

the Palestinian people have had to watch their children and brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers be murdered violently in the streets of Gaza for decades because of the violent occupation of Palestine.

you get to call the colonizers "relatives, friends, classmates, colleagues and neighbors" but the Palestinian people are only ever "terrorists." when the Israeli police drag Palestinians out of mosques and kill them in streets-- more than 200 Palestinians have been killed this year alone, plus the 161 that have already been killed in retaliation-- are you going to call them terrorists, too? as Israel continues their retaliation and kills 30 Palestinians for every single Israeli soldier, is it "terrorism" or will you find a way to justify it, then? will you care about the "relatives, friends, classmates, colleagues and neighbors" then?

"No matter what side theyre on i hope no one ever has to experience that kind of horror." again, Palestinians have been living this for decades. and what we're witnessing now is the inevitable response to those decades of oppression & occupation.

as for your "friends, classmates, colleagues and neighbors" -- they are living on occupied land. land that was taken by force through ethnic cleansing. they can leave at any time-- most of them have already, fleeing back to their home countries with their dual citizenships, or theyre safely sitting in hotels waiting for it to be over. they are settlers. they are part of the settler colony that is actively oppressing, dispossessing, and murdering Palestinians. and to be clear, that post you're talking about is not "celebrating civilian deaths," you are just purposefully misrepresenting it here to further dehumanize Palestinians and depict them as "terrorists." of course i do not want civilians to die. no one wants that. i feel for the Israeli people, the children & the ones who cannot leave. but at least they are allowed to be people, they are allowed to be friends, classmates, colleagues, neighbors. Palestinians have never been granted that, and you are proving it here in my inbox.

these "terrorists" you decry are oppressed people taking up arms-- scavenged from the weapons Israeli soldiers and police have been using against them for years-- to decolonize and take back their home. decolonization is a violent process. we absolutely cannot tolerate a double standard. there is no "both sides."

Myth: Israel is defending itself | Decolonize Palestine

Myth: Israel is not an Apartheid state | Decolonize Palestine

Myth: Israel has always sought peace | Decolonize Palestine

Myth: The Palestinian Authority subsidizes "terrorism" (pay to slay) | Decolonize Palestine

Myth: Israel (or any other state) has a right to exist | Decolonize Palestine

all of my support to the Palestinian resistance, from the river to the sea Palestine will be free.

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Hamas attacks in retaliation, Israel is made out to be the victim. Israel attacks Sudan, Yemen, and we either don't talk about it or claim it was Hamas. Now Israel fires weapons into Iran and when they fire back, it's considered an aggressive and violent attack against the Israeli people.

Biden is dragging his citizens headlong into a war we should have no part in to support a country who does not care about collateral. He promised debt relief, gender care, pay increases, and we have seen NO positives on any of those fronts all while he desperately pours resources into supplying the murder of innocent Arabs.

You who support this war hate the Arab people, you're all just too much of pussies to admit it. So you hide behind these excuses. "Oh, Israel's just defending itself. Oh, that was someone else". You wish for the death of all the Arabs without any of the social repercussions of actually admitting that, so you claim anyone who wishes for the killing to stop is actually antisemitic and "wants to kill all the Jews".

Palestine will be free and the Israeli government will face punishment for the crimes they have perpetrated.

[skopostheorie]

I normally don't talk about stuff of this nature and least of all on Tumblr where there are like three active users but here.

UniMelb, my university, is having an occupation right now of one of our buildings, by students protesting UniMelb's alleged ties with weapons manufacturers currently being used by Israel. It's called Arts West and as the name implies a lot of Arts subjects are held there. My German, Korean, Chinese and Japanese classes all have at least one held there a week. This is an escalation of the encampment after the protesters provided an ultimatum (cut ties or we won't talk to you anymore).

Classes in the building were cancelled because of this occupation, citing safety concerns. The University has not helped teachers find new rooms, to my knowledge. My German teacher held the class outside, and all the others are online. The Aussie media is having a lot of fun with this, as I believe this is the biggest protest in the country of this nature since October 7.

The media is not being honest.

What's being said: the students seized the building violently.

The truth: they just kind of went in there and sat down. There are a few tents.

What's being said: the students are threatening people.

The truth: to my knowledge, no one has been threatened. Avi Yemeni and some cronies came to harass them around two weeks ago, and another group threw bottles, fire extinguishers and other projectiles at the protesters, but no retaliation has occured so far, as far as I have heard.

What's being said: classes were cancelled because of the occupation.

The truth: this is true, but the protesters have repeatedly said that anyone may enter and have class. I have been in the building several times to test this out, and no one even spoke to me, let alone told me to leave. I made a little coffee in the kitchen here:

The University has turned off the lifts and taped them, as well as locked the doors. I am not sure why one of them remains open, but I am led to believe the protesters opened it so people could come and go as they pleased.

Since the beginning the little "front desk tent" has had a massive "Palestinians and Jews in solidarity" sheet across it. All the propaganda stickers by them are of a similar nature: one says "Not in our name, Jews for a free Palestine", and another says "Palestinian and Jewish solidarity" with a dove on it. They hold Shabbat there as well. They also do the call to prayer for Dhuhr, and possibly all of the prayers, but I'm not on campus for Fajr, Isha etc (for obvious reasons).

I don't want people reading the news and thinking being at UniMelb is hectic right now. It's really fine. Nobody even really talks about it much. Classes in other buildings are quite normal.

[bowtiepastabitch]

In case anyone was curious how bad the media censorship of pro-palestinian news is:

A chemical weapon was used on student protesters at an Ivy League school in New York City on Friday and it has yet to be covered by any major news outlets

That's three major news buzz terms in one headline and yet not a word has been said. This article is now a tad bit outdated; a couple more people have ended up in the ER or hospitalized since its publishing, but it's still the best coverage this event has. This is ridiculous, quite frankly, and extremely symptomatic of the current state of media conversations around the genocide in Palestine; the lack of appropriate coverage both shelters the ignorance of people who aren't exposed to this genre of news through other platforms and perpetuates patterns of violence and racism that surround these issues.

'Allegedly', the students who have been identified by members of SJP as being involved in the attack were idf soldiers prior to attending college at CU. The university has provided no support to students affected and done everything possible to avoid confronting the issue, issuing vague statements on social media and via email. I have a very close friend at Columbia who was affected by this and she's had to throw away all of the clothes she wore that day and her disability symptoms have flared up to the point of preventing her from being able to get work done or attend class.

The peaceful protest sought to draw attention to and put pressure on Columbia University to divest from companies raking in profits from the genocide and connections to Israel. Protests, walk-outs, and boycotts have been taking place on campus since October, organized by the hard work from Columbia SJP and other student groups, yet media coverage has been absolutely dismal and the university has done everything possible to avoid making statements or changes to policy in response, instead responding with increased police presence on days of protest activity and retaliation against student groups involved.

Israel wouldn't be investing millions of dollars in social media propaganda and media censorship if they didn't consider us talking about this to be a threat.

Note: all information I have comes direct from my friend who is very involved in activism at Columbia and the official Columbia sjp and jvp social media. Organizers have stated again and again the importance of sharing information to combat censorship. Reblogs are appreciated.

[mariacallous]

As a devastating crisis continues to unfold with the horrific bombardment of Gaza, there is little sense of how it will end. As a lifelong student of Israel-Palestine, I found my mind racing through many historical dates to find parallels, meaning, and direction.

Perhaps the date that comes to mind for most people is Oct. 6, 1973, the start of an Arab war effort to regain land taken by Israel in 1967. The 1973 surprise attack, which was 50 years and a day from the Oct. 7 Hamas assault, caught a recalcitrant and hubristic Israel off guard and fundamentally changed the way it thought about its policies toward Egypt in the years that followed, paving the way for a historic peace agreement a few years later.

I thought about the 1968 Battle of Karameh. This battle, little known in Western narratives of the conflict but hugely consequential in Palestinian ones, came after the 1967 war, when Israel enjoyed an aura of invincibility. PLO fighters alongside Jordanian soldiers fought the Israeli military, destroyed some military equipment, and captured more. The battle sent the message that Israeli power was not what it seemed, and it helped swell the ranks of militant factions across the region.

But a more important date stands out: Sept. 6, 1972. The day prior, Palestinian guerrillas had killed an Israeli coach and athlete and taken nine other members of the Israeli team hostage at the Munich Olympic Village, where all the cameras of the world had assembled, and by the time a botched rescue attempt by the German police had concluded, all the hostages and most of the Palestinian guerrillas were dead.

The world watched this all play out on live TV. Before that moment, and perhaps since, no set of events has had a more consequential impact on the emergence of what I call the terrorism framework: a set of policies and practices that defines how such moments should be understood, responded to, and prevented.

At the time, the Nixon White House was scrambling to figure out how to respond. Its foreign policy at the time was focused on detente with Moscow in an effort to manipulate Soviet and Chinese relations as the U.S. war on Vietnam raged. The Middle East, a massive arena of U.S.-Soviet competition, could easily derail all of this. President Richard Nixon’s now infamous tape recorder gives us insight into the thinking at the time.

On Sept. 6, Secretary of State William Rogers had a conversation with Nixon in the Oval Office in the presence of National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger and other officials. Rogers’s message to Nixon was straightforward: What happened in Munich was a symptom. “Say Israel retaliates and blows up something in Lebanon, that doesn’t help anyone,” Rogers told Nixon. “What this does indicate to the world is that we’ve got to solve the problem. It’s a hell of a thing to have 11 Israelis killed, and it’s a hell of a thing to have millions of people homeless all these years. So the problem has to be solved.” Nixon was receptive to Rogers’s argument, but Kissinger sat quietly and was alarmed.

Kissinger left the Oval Office and telephoned the Israeli ambassador in Washington, Yitzhak Rabin, to tell him about the meeting. Kissinger had his calls taped and transcribed as well. After hearing about the Oval office meeting, Rabin feared “that those who carried out the action in Munich succeeded beyond their expectations.” Kissinger urged Rabin to go to the U.N. Security Council to try to build a global consensus around fighting terrorism even if the United States and Israel would be isolated there.

Kissinger told him going to the Security Council would “not lead to any practical results but it will focus the problem on an issue on which we can talk jointly while the great danger that I see is that in a few days people will say—as was said at the meeting this morning—we must remove the cause of this.” He urged him that they should do it “before people start thinking about the problem.”

Kissinger was concerned that if the global debate about Munich was not immediately redirected toward uniform condemnation of the Palestinian guerrillas, the more people might think about the root causes and Palestinian grievances.

Herein lies the trap of the terrorism framework. It ostensibly aims to counter political violence, but it does so in a way that ensures political violence persists—by exceptionalizing it as a form of violence that comes from a vacuum. Unlike most forms of political violence—such as interstate conflicts and civil wars, insurgencies, rebellions, or political repression—terrorism is not something we are encouraged to understand the causes of; at best, reductionist explanations chalk up motivations to ideology, which, in the Palestinian case, is transparently flawed since Palestinian political violence has always transcended ideological divides.

By adopting this framework, opponents of this violence position themselves as standing with the victims of it and condemning the perpetrators. But in reality, they are merely condemning them all to continued and more horrific rounds of carnage.

It is a framework that allows leaders with the greatest capacity to prevent such violence—in this case, the leaders of the United States and Israel—a way to absolve themselves of responsibility at the expense of the very people whom they have a responsibility to protect. At the end of the day, it is always ordinary people, not states or policymakers or the media outfits that amplify them, who pay the highest price for this commitment to not thinking.

Israel, of course, would go on to blow up many things in Lebanon after 1972, and its invasion of southern Lebanon 10 years later led to a nearly two-decade occupation and the birth and strengthening of Hezbollah into a force that now requires U.S. aircraft carriers to help Israel deter.

It is easy to react to this by claiming that understanding the causes amounts to justification. That is precisely what this dangerous framework encourages us to do: It flattens political violence into a question of good and evil—to which impulse, not thought, is the only fitting response.

The reality is that political violence is part of the human condition and always has been, long before Zionism and long before Palestine. When humans commit to study pathology, it is not out of some desire to justify the diseases that plague us but rather to try to eliminate them; to the extent that there is any evil in this equation, it is in the ideological commitment to refuse to examine the cause of the disease. Without a genuine understanding of why this is happening—one that does not exceptionalize the problem or the perpetrators of violence on any side—it becomes impossible to heal what ails Israelis and Palestinians alike.

The terrorism framework absolves leaders of responsibility to address root causes, but it can also be manipulated in ways that magnify its harm. There is no better example of this than Israel’s policy toward Gaza over the last decade and a half. It was precisely because Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu knew he could rely on the terrorism framework absolving him of any responsibility for Gaza that he preferred to keep Hamas in power there so he could prevent any diplomatic progress toward ending the occupation.

This logic has been explained by multiple Israeli officials over the years. In 2005, when then-Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon decided to remove Israeli ground forces and settlers from Gaza, it was billed by many as a concession toward achieving peace, but, as his advisor Dov Weisglass explained in a 2004 interview, it was a move designed to do the exact opposite.

By keeping Gaza separate from the West Bank and ensuring Palestinian political fragmentation and a failed statelet in Gaza, Israel was creating an excuse to never make peace that it knew would be accepted. This “no-one-to-talk-to certificate,” which Weisglass said would be approved by Washington, says: “(1) There is no one to talk to. (2) As long as there is no one to talk to, the geographic status quo remains intact. (3) The certificate will be revoked only when this-and-this happens—when Palestine becomes Finland. (4) See you then, and shalom.” This approach, Weisglass added, “supplies the amount of formaldehyde that’s necessary so that there will not be a political process with the Palestinians.” Netanyahu, according to the Jerusalem Post, told his associates in 2019 that propping up Hamas in Gaza would keep Palestinians divided and that “whoever is against a Palestinian state should be for” it.

The PLO had renounced terrorism and recognized Israel (even though Israel never recognized Palestine’s right to exist), and those shifts in PLO positions brought it out of the terrorism framework and into the peace process. But Hamas didn’t follow the same path, in part because the group saw how that path had failed to produce any results for the PLO. Netanyahu, who was always opposed to Palestinian statehood, understood that Hamas represented a get-out-of-talks-free card, just as Weisglass had envisioned.

The costs of the failure to think about the problem have never been higher. More Israelis were killed on Oct. 7 than at any time in the country’s history. More Palestinians have been killed in Gaza in three weeks than in all of Israel’s previous military operations in Gaza combined. Save the Children has said that the “number of children reported killed in Gaza in just three weeks has surpassed the annual number of children killed across the world’s conflict zones since 2019.” The horrific and ever growing bloodshed underscores the failure of military solutions.

How many Israelis and Palestinians would still be with us had we committed to thinking about the problem—rather than avoiding it—in 1972?

Breaking from this continued pattern of violence requires an understanding of the difference between justice and vengeance. The lesson that the Greek playwright Aeschylus taught so many years ago is as easily forgotten as vital to remember: The difference between the two concepts is law, which exists only to the extent that there is faith in the equal application of it.

When illegal violence, including war crimes, committed by one side is routinely condemned and the perpetrators held accountable and illegal violence by the other side, including war crimes, is never condemned and the perpetrators are instead excused and enabled to continue perpetrating such violence to ever greater extents, law exists not as an instrument of justice but an instrument of oppression; vengeance reigns; and we lock countless more innocents into lives of horror.

This is precisely where the terrorism framework has led us.

[paperstorm]

You say you wish Ronen (and presumably other Israeli Americans) showed the same outrage for the attacks on Gaza as they do for the attacks on Israel.

I’m curious, do you hold White Christian Americans do the same standard? When they remember the lives lost in 9/11, do you require them to mention the 70,000 civilian lives lost in the war in Afghanistan, which was started as a result of that attack? Does it put a ‘pit in your stomach’ when they don’t, or do you simply go about your day without thinking it worth mentioning?

Because as a Jew I’ve never supported Israel, but I’m starting to wonder why Israel is held to a far higher standard than any Western nation that retaliates against terrorism. The loss of innocent lives is terrible and should be condemned, but why is it worse than the innocent lives lost in Afghanistan? Is there something in particular about Israel that you and other left-wing Westeners don’t like?

As far as I can see, Ronen’s country was the victim of a terrorist attack. He reacted with sorrow and anger and supports his country as it seeks to punish those responsible and rescue those taken hostage. But why is he deserving of condemnation for an emotional response when Americans and Westeners can mourn and be angry about their citizens killed by terrorists without attracting any of the same vitriol? The West has done terrible things in the Middle East, and yet when the Middle East strikes back against its enemies only Israel and its people are not allowed to be angry.

Maybe you don’t have any answer, but if you do and are willing to respond I would like to know. What is the difference between an Israeli ‘coloniser’ responding to being a victim of terrorism and an American ‘coloniser’ responding to being the victim of terrorism? Why does one attract criticism and hatred and the other not?

I don't speak for anyone else but my personal answer to this question is yes. Unequivocally. I haven't been talking specifically about the Iraq/Afghanistan wars this week because that's not what's happening right now, but yes. People mourning/honouring victims of the 9/11 attacks should absolutely also be mourning the (by some estimates) nearly a million innocent people who died in the Middle East in the wars started as retaliation for that attack, in some cases in places like Iraq that had literally nothing to do with it at all. If someone feels sadness in their heart every day for the 9/11 victims and feels nothing for the innocent Muslim people who paid the price for something they had nothing to do with, I feel very comfortable saying that person has fallen prey to American imperialist propaganda campaigns or is just outright racist. The hoopla that followed 9/11 is almost beat-for-beat what is happening right now, all over again. We learned nothing. Once again our leaders are dehumanizing brown people, cheering on imperialism and violent colonial occupation, and using a terrorist attack to manufacture consent for war crimes. (Anyone wanting more info on how they do this should read The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein.)

The loss of innocent Palestinians is not worse that the loss of innocent Afghans. They are the same. They are both being murdered as payback for something they didn't do and their deaths were/are both being cheered on by the Western war machine because it makes money for defense contractors and because it's politically convenient to see brown people as expendable pawns in the game of Risk world leaders are always playing. So yes, I absolutely do condemn both and mourn for both.

Additionally, I know you didn't ask for sympathy but I know how difficult this is. I know it's a lot more complicated than white online leftists like to make it seem, and I know a lot of Jewish people personally who are struggling right now, as they have before, with their complex feelings for the state of Israel. I hope you're taking care of yourself, as best you can in these awful circumstances.

[demonicintegrity]

Literally just now I learned through Instagram that Netanyahu is visiting Congress this month. And has been visiting Congress over the years apparently.

So naturally, there’s gonna be a protest. For those going you can find a bus from your city to DC from answercoalition.org/arrest_netanyahu to see if there’s one. And for everyone else

MASK THE HELL UP. COVER YOUR HAIR/FACE. PROTECT YOURSELF. USE SUNSCREEN AS WELL.

DC and the capital are crawling with cameras and cops, especially considering the current political scene. Masking will also protect against the germs and trust me, it’s dirty up there. Personally when I go to protest I prefer a mask, tying back and completely covering my hair, and wearing very plain and loose/comfortable clothing. My friends don’t even recognize me. That’s good. Don’t be recognizable in photos.

Your top objectives when you’re going:

Don’t pass out from the heat. Drink plenty of water, find shade, sit down if you need to. There’s been heat warnings all month. I cannot stress enough that it will be hot. Carry water for you and extra for new friends if you can.

Do not fuck with the police. Do not antagonize. Do not throw shit. Don’t riot. The typical stuff. There’s a nonzero chance of a counter protest from people for the genocide, drown them out but do not engage them.

Shut down any antisemitism, especially from your own. Shut down anybody riling up police, shut it down any violence, shut down any racism and bigotry. Regulate your group.

Familiarize yourself with the area. Have a plan in and out. Make your meet up points and know when to bounce.

Note: I’m not the organizer setting this up, nor do I know them in any capacity. If you see organizers, talk to them and listen to them. They should have plans in place to manage the protest and move if need be. Watch the crowd, be aware. If the organizer has a media liaison, let them handle the press.

You may want to:

Turn off your phone. DC is crawling with tech. Use the knowledge of your devices and what you’re doing at your own discretion. When I’m solo, it’s on. As a group, maybe off.

Pack snacks!

Figure out rides ahead of time

Wear sunglasses

Be prepared for things to get ugly. Personally I prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

Draw live, take pictures or videos, or otherwise capture the scene. If you’re doing so, remember to not capture identifying details of your fellow protesters, there will be people intending to be malicious by finding out who your peers are. Be mindful of faces and metadata.

Ultimately, stay safe and cool but make your presence and message clear. I highly recommend before you go down to DC you brush up on the news, be on the lookout for new information about this protest, brush up on antisemitic conspiracies and dogwhistles, and figure out how to manage the heat.

Tensions are high and you will be in the proximity of a lot of notable figures. Be smart and be safe. I think there’s a real chance to make this one really catch attention, so plan accordingly. The ICC has a warrant for Netanyahu, and that seems to be the primary focus of this protest. Making him acknowledge and answer for war crimes. Sounds like making signs highlighting the war crimes and statistics of what the IDF has been doing. Maybe highlighting the bombing of safe zones, targeting of those providing aid, and the starvation of Palestinians.

He’s likely trying to legitimize his war on Hamas and appeal to Congress. He’s not popular in Israel, im sure he’s gonna throw a pity party for himself. Do not let anyone forget that any crime Hamas has committed doesn’t warrant retaliating on innocent civilians. And Palestinians deserve to live as peacefully as Israelis do.

[smute]

As someone who has covered misinformation through dozens of major news events, I know that people flock to social media during a crisis for many reasons. Maybe it’s because the mainstream news doesn’t feel fast or immediate enough, or because the crisis has put them or someone close to them in harm’s way and they need help. Perhaps they want to see and share and say something that captures the reality of an important moment in time because they don’t know what else to do when the world is on fire. Misinformation and manipulation often spread for the same reasons, slipping into the feeds of those who believe it can’t hurt to share a startling video or gruesome photograph or call for aid, even if they’re not sure of the reliability of the source.

When war goes online, the churn of good and bad information is supercharged by the stakes. While state-sponsored information wars existed well before the invention of the internet, social media has enabled all kinds of propaganda and dangerous falsehoods to rapidly reach millions. During the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, for example, livestreamers and scammers reposted old videos to TikTok, claiming they showed the latest from the front lines, in order to get views and trick people into donating to fake fundraisers.

Journalists have had a difficult time following up on video-fueled updates about the situation in Gaza circulating on social media because it is extremely dangerous to be reporting in the region right now. Many news outlets have reporters working from Israel to cover the conflict. Correspondents on the ground in Gaza are trying to keep themselves and their families alive during the Israeli bombing campaign in retaliation for the Hamas attack.

[...]

[The SIFT method] is meant to be a quick series of checks that anyone can do in order to decide how much of your attention to give what you’re seeing and whether you feel comfortable sharing a post with others.

The SIFT method breaks down to four steps: “Stop, Investigate the source, Find better coverage, and Trace claims, quotes, and media to the original context.” That “Stop” step can do a lot of work during a major, violent conflict like the Israel-Hamas war. People get engagement on questionable or untrue posts during breaking news by tugging on your emotions and beliefs.

So if a video, photograph, or post about the war seems to confirm everything you’ve ever believed about a topic or makes you immediately furious or hopeful or upset, stop yourself from instantly sharing it.

Then, investigate the source. This can be done pretty quickly. Click on the account sharing the thing you saw and glance at their information and previous posts. You’re not launching a full-scale investigation here. You’re just trying to get a sense of who has ended up in your feed. Next, find better coverage. That means you open up a bunch of tabs. Is this being reported anywhere else by trustworthy news sources? Has this claim been fact-checked? And finally, trace the source. Open up the news article and run a search for a phrase in the quote you’re about to share. See if you can find that image attributed elsewhere, and make sure the captions describe the same thing.

[...]

Online falsehoods need attention and amplification to work. You might not have a big account with a ton of followers, but every reshare matters, both to the circle of people who see your posts online and to the engagement numbers for the original post. Interacting with something on social media — whether a cautious share “in case” it’s true or a repost to point out that something definitely isn’t — signals to the site’s algorithms that you’re interested in that content. In other words, outrage shares are still shares, even if you’re talking about a bad analysis, an unsourced photograph, or an outright lie.

[gentil-minou]

(Same anon who talked about having a Jewish friend)

Actually, I've already seen a bunch of the video explanations and looked things up before sending the last ask in, and yeah, I'm pretty convinced the Palestinians got a raw deal. It looks like the British came in, took over Palestine, then decided to kill two birds with one stone and try to move all the Jews out of their country and into the area they were trying to establish as Israel, while intimidating or outright forcing Palestinians into leaving their own homes in order to make room.

And then after repelling the attack from all the surrounding countries trying to get rid of Israel (which yeah, that uh. That would also have led to a massive tragedy), Israel took over a bunch of territory beyond what they'd been assigned (without any Palestinian input whatsoever), and claimed it as spoils of war or something. And it's occupied areas even beyond that, and regularly bombed Gaza like. A Lot.

Honestly, my biggest source of difficulty is that, well. I DO know people who are Jewish and have family in Israel, and are pro-Israel and arguing all the usual Israeli talking points, and are scared right now. And I can't really say that they shouldn't be afraid for themselves and their friends and family either, even though from what I've seen with my research, Palestinians seem to have been dealt a rawer hand. I'm not sure what to say to them, except generally adopting one of the more neutral stances that focuses on the horrors this conflict has inflicted on everyone involved, like what Rick Riordan said in a recent blog post.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’  We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is  easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

I'm not sure whether you have a better stance to take when it comes to talking to friends who have close ties to the Israeli side of this conflict, who are afraid for themselves and their family. Because I can't say they're wrong to be afraid and upset, but also there needs to be recognition of what Palestinians have gone through as well. I'm not sure whether you have Jewish friends who support Israel who you've talked about this with, but if you do, how do you handle that?

To be frank, I wish I had the answers for your question but I don't right now. The majority of people in my life are either Pro-Palestine or refuse to talk about the situation saying it's too stressful, which is its own frustration and which I push back on by still talking about it.

The people in my life that are Pro-Israel are at work, which is difficult considering the ethics in this situation are all over the place. How do I support an Israeli client calling for the genocide of an entire race? How do I, as their therapist, validate something that I find so morally repugnant I feel sick to my stomach before every session. How do I deal with working at an organization devoted to helping kids with their mental health when right now one of the most traumatic incidences the world has ever seen is happening right this second?

My workplace has apparently chosen silence and not talking about any of this as its strategy, and I don't know how to navigate it. Do I leave my job and the kids I work with to uphold my morals? Do I stay to help the kids I wanted to support even though they support something I fine reprehensible? Do I ignore it like my workplace does and stay for the kids I can help, where I comparmentalize everything thats been happening so I can help them even though their problems are so small? Do I stay even though every second of silence and refusal to recognize the very real genocide happening right now kills me every single day? I haven't worked it out yet. I don't know how to balance psychology ethics with my own ethics, and I think that's it's own issue.

So I don't have the answers here. I'm much better talking about these things online than I am in person. I have a better reach online than I do in person, which is why I do it so much here. If I had to confront a Pro-Israeli family/friend I know myself and I know I would cry and get angry and I don't know what I would do after that.

So for that, I'd say you're doing better than I am Anon.

Something I have considered though is where do I draw the line for what makes someone a friend or person I want to keep in my life.

And to me, a South Asian woman with an Arabic name from a Muslim family who grew up under the shadow of Post-9/11 Islamophobia in NYC and has devoted her life to working with kids who have trauma, depression, and anxiety, I think I am justified in taking it personally and with great offence if someone is saying the genocide of people I relate to heavily is okay. I think I as a person as a human being can draw the line when I need to.

And I think what gets me is I will talk about it. I refuse to stop.

[rantsaboutlife]

This is my opinion and pls respect it:

About Israel and Palestina.

I won’t pick a side. They’re both in the wrongs for ages. Palestina retaliated because of endless attacks from Isreal. I understand that they want to make them feel what they have experienced. BUT

… killing (and probably raped) a young German woman who was there for a festival? Really? (Don’t come at me with: Wrong place wrong time) AND an Italian man years ago? And no one is saying anything about this?! Where is the consequence of this? Hello Germany? Italy?

(I also know about many woman and children missing… and it being under the guise of “god is great”… bullshit… NO god wants that. Any god would NOT want you to kill or rape so please burn bye)

And also; why are children always the victims of these

Why not just put the religion aside for a hot moment and talk. Instead of immediate violence?

This war has been going on for ages and now that Isreal got attacked everyone is making a fuss and picking sides. Now everyone wants to be a humanitarian peace person.

Educate yourselves about it first, before you pick a side or no side at all.

It all got worse since the end of the second world war. The UN had decided to sent Jews to Israel so they would be safe (Jerusalem and all). They took a lot of land and people got pissed.

It’s about religion too and I’m not a Jew or a Muslim… I won’t pick sides because It’s not my place to. If people expect me to: no sorry. Everyone is in the wrong in my eyes.

If I’m wrong please just educate me. Explain it to me without hateful comments.

And before anyone asks: this account is a safe place for everyone. Are you Jewish? Welcome! Muslim? Welcome!

I accept everyone and love people for who they are regardless of religion.

[nsfwhiphop]

Incoming Text for @badgalriri :

Hey, Rihanna! It's me, Angelo.

I want to share something about myself.

Europeans want to control the oil of Somalia. Americans want to control the oil of Somalia. But they can't come near the oil of Somalia because the population fights back. The Somali people are warriors, so anytime foreign powers try to take our oil by force, we fight back with guns.

Do you understand now? Do you understand why Somalia is a war-torn country? It's because the Somali population rebels against the foreign oppressors who try to pillage our natural resources. The Somali nation is a fearless nation of warriors, with 17 million people, many of whom are armed. Foreign forces can't fight against an army of 17 million people.

So, what does the white oppressor do? They use the power of their corrupt media to label an entire nation as "TERRORIST."

Do you believe that Somalia is a terrorist nation? No, it's a lie. Somalia is a nation defending its sovereignty against a foreign aggressor, and that aggressor is WHITE. We consider the white oppressor the true aggressor and terrorist.

The white aggressor says the Somali nation is a terrorist. But the Somali people say the opposite: they believe the white aggressor is the terrorist. They think they can come to our country and take control, but that is not an easy task because the Somali people are warriors and refuse to submit to the foreign aggressor. No matter how he portrays our Somali people as terrorists, we don't care.

If you didn't know, well, now you know. The white people are the terrorists, and we are defending our nation against a white terrorist.

But wait, there's more...

The Somali nation has now joined forces with the BRICS alliance, which are ruthless enemies of NATO. This means that anyone who tries to impose NATO policies in Somalia will face extreme opposition.

But wait, there's more...

In Israel, there is a revolution for financial freedom, and they support the BRICS alliance.

But wait, there's more...

In South America, they have long dreamed of making life difficult for NATO because they hate NATO bullies. They will do anything to challenge them. What does this mean? It means that Somalia now has the support of many armed soldiers in South America, ready to fight to liberate Somalia from NATO influence.

But wait, there's more...

There are also the 27 countries in Europe fighting the evil regime. They refuse to follow NATO rules and have decided to flee to Mexico to fight against NATO to free Somalia. They see it as a new land for their economic freedom.

But wait, there's more...

Don't forget the ecstatic Silicon Valley billionaires who have dreamt their whole lives of seizing power in an oil-rich country. They are living their childhood dreams of adventure, the 80s Indiana Jones dream. I'm talking about Jeff, Elon, Bill, and Mark Zuckerberg.

But wait, there's more...

Don't forget about the Arab nations like Qatar, UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt. They all dream of this new alliance between Mexico and India. This is a dream come true for many Muslim rulers.

But wait, there's more...

Don't forget all the Scandinavian nations who have lived in cold Nordic countries their entire lives. They are finally getting to live in a hot country like Somalia, and we invited them to live among us as friends and allies. We love Scandinavia, so you know they will come to fight and liberate Somalia as well.

What did you learn today?

The answer is simple: "America is a Ku Klux Klan nation, and England is also a Ku Klux Klan nation. We refuse to let these racist and cruel oppressors dictate our lives anymore. We are so angry at them that we have vowed to launch a third world war to destroy their nations if they come near Somalia again. We will not tolerate their disrespect anymore. America and Britain are dealing with one of the most dangerous nations ever; Somalia is a nation with powerful allies, and we will retaliate if they ever come near us again.

In short, America talks a big game, but now it's the end of their tyranny. England also talks a lot, but it's the end of their tyranny as well.

We will not let these cruel oppressors dictate how we live our lives anymore. They are the real terrorists, and we are the freedom fighters.

They can go to hell and shut up, or we will launch a third world war and destroy their countries.

your future baby-daddy,

Angelo.

[biblenewsprophecy]

Attack by Iran imminent? The other shoe to drop?

COGwriter

The situation between Israel and Iran continues to heat up:

11 April 2024

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on Thursday appeared to reiterate his warning to Iran that Israel would retaliate if attacked, as the head of US Central Command (CENTCOM) Gen. Michael Kurilla arrived in Israel reportedly to discuss what US intelligence officials have described as an “imminent” threat from Tehran.

“We are in challenging times. We are in the midst of a war in Gaza that is continuing with full force. In addition, we are continuing with ceaseless efforts to return our hostages, but we are also preparing for challenges from other fronts,” Netanyahu told pilots as he visited an F-15 base.

Iran has repeatedly vowed to retaliate for an alleged Israeli strike last week on a consular building in its Damascus embassy complex, which killed two generals among several Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps officers. That incident came amid spiraling violence on Israel’s northern border due to near-daily attacks by the Iran-backed Hezbollah terror group since October 8.

“We set a simple principle: Anyone who hits us, we hit them,” Netanyahu said in apparent reference to Iranian threats to carry out strikes against Israel. “We are ready to fulfill our responsibilities to Israel’s security, in defense and attack.” …

Wednesday, Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei told a crowd in Tehran that “the evil regime made a mistake and must be punished, and it shall be,” referring to the attack in Damascus. …

However, unnamed US intelligence sources told CNN in a Monday report that Iran is unlikely to attack Israel directly out of fear of American and Israeli reprisal, and will instead urge its various proxies in the region to launch attacks on its behalf in the coming days.

Iran-backed terror groups have entered the fray across the region amid the ongoing war between Israel and the Hamas, including rocket fire from Lebanon by Hezbollah and months of Yemen-based Houthi attacks in the Red Sea. https://www.timesofisrael.com/netanyahu-hints-at-retaliation-if-iran-attacks-as-centcom-chief-lands-in-israel/

A reader sent me a link to the following from Michael Snyder:

Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop In The Middle East…

April 10, 2024

There has been a tremendous amount of speculation about when and how Iran will attack Israel.  In the aftermath of Israel’s stunning airstrike on a building directly next to the Iranian embassy in Damascus, Iranian officials pledged that there would be a very “harsh” response.  I take them at their word, and I am entirely convinced that a response is coming.  But exactly when that response will happen remains a mystery as I write this article.  So for now, we are waiting for the other shoe to drop.  According to Jennifer Jacobs, the senior White House reporter for Bloomberg, sources have told her that an attack on Israel is imminent…

When Iran finally attacks, most experts believe that Israeli military and government facilities will be targeted.

But if any Iranian missiles land in Israeli territory, Israel’s foreign minister is warning that his country will strike back…

We could literally be on the verge of witnessing the start of an all-out war between Israel and Iran.

Once they start lobbing missiles at one another, there is a very real possibility that a chain of events will be set in motion that nobody will be able to stop. …

Now Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has a decision to make.

He knows that Hamas cannot be destroyed unless the IDF goes into Rafah, but if the IDF goes into Rafah it could potentially cause the entire region to erupt in flames.

We shall see what happens, but at this stage is appears that the decision has already been made…

Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said on Monday that a date has been set for an Israeli invasion of Rafah, Gaza’s last refuge for displaced Palestinians, without disclosing that date as a new round of ceasefire talks take place in Cairo.

‘Today I received a detailed report on the talks in Cairo, we are constantly working to achieve our goals, first and foremost the release of all our hostages and achieving a complete victory over Hamas,’ Netanyahu said.

‘This victory requires entry into Rafah and the elimination of the terrorist battalions there. It will happen – there is a date.’

We will also want to keep a very close eye on the northern front.

According to the UN agreement that ended the last war, all Hezbollah forces are supposed to be located north of the Litani River. …

There are multiple ways that the conflict in the Middle East could spiral out of control.

I am entirely convinced that this will be the year that it happens.

But for the moment, we continue to wait for the next shoe to drop. https://endoftheamericandream.com/waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop-in-the-middle-east/

Yes, Iran is upset, and yes Israel would be expected to retaliate if Iran directly attacks it.

As far as the timing goes, there are many reasons to believe that a major regional war will break out in 2024.

Jesus, of course, warned about these things and referred to them as the beginning of sorrows:

4 Take heed that no one deceives you. 5 For many will come in My name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and will deceive many. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. 8 All these are the beginning of sorrows.  (Matthew 24:4-8)

Related to Iran, back in October of 2022, I posted:

I have long believed that Iran is a threat that will one day be ‘neutralized’ (Jeremiah 49:34-38), as I believe it will overplay its hand. Its confidence in its drones and other military technologies will likely get it to take destructive actions that will result in severe retaliation. … Now as Isaiah 22 shows, Israel could very well be damaged by Iran before the the Great Tribulation begins. Iranian drones may well be a factor. (Thiel B. Iran, Drones, Ukraine, and Israel. COGwriter, October 21, 2022)

As far as Iran itself goes, it wants to lead all of Islam. It hopes by one day attacking Israel (according to a video it put out over a decade ago), it will get the rest of the Muslims to follow it. However, it will fail to become the leader of Islam– the Bible points to an Arabic power doing that in Daniel 11:40-43. Because of that, I have long felt that it may be that Iran would be ‘neutralized’ before the final King of the South (Daniel 11:40) rises up.

The Bible shows that God will allow something that appears to be an Iranian-Syrian confederation, to strike the nation of Israel:

1 The burden against the Valley of Vision.

What ails you now, that you have all gone up to the housetops, 2 You who are full of noise, A tumultuous city, a joyous city? Your slain men are not slain with the sword, Nor dead in battle. 3 All your rulers have fled together; They are captured by the archers. All who are found in you are bound together; They have fled from afar. 4 Therefore I said, “Look away from me, I will weep bitterly; Do not labor to comfort me Because of the plundering of the daughter of my people.”

5 For it is a day of trouble and treading down and perplexity By the Lord God of hosts In the Valley of Vision — Breaking down the walls And of crying to the mountain. 6 Elam bore the quiver With chariots of men and horsemen, And Kir uncovered the shield. 7 It shall come to pass that your choicest valleys Shall be full of chariots,And the horsemen shall set themselves in array at the gate.

8 He removed the protection of Judah. You looked in that day to the armor of the House of the Forest; 9 You also saw the damage to the city of David, That it was great; And you gathered together the waters of the lower pool. 10 You numbered the houses of Jerusalem, And the houses you broke down To fortify the wall. 11 You also made a reservoir between the two walls For the water of the old pool. But you did not look to its Maker, Nor did you have respect for Him who fashioned it long ago.

12 And in that day the Lord God of hosts Called for weeping and for mourning,For baldness and for girding with sackcloth. 13 But instead, joy and gladness, Slaying oxen and killing sheep, Eating meat and drinking wine: “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die!”

14 Then it was revealed in my hearing by the Lord of hosts,”Surely for this iniquity there will be no atonement for you, Even to your death,” says the Lord God of hosts.  (Isaiah 22:1-14 NKJV)

Elam, in this context, seems to be a reference to at least some in Iran. The old Worldwide Church of God published the following:

Iranians comprise nearly 70 percent of the country. Iranians, though Islamic, are totally distinct from the neighboring Arab peoples of the Middle East. They are a mixed people of the remnants of Media and Elam and other ancestors of Semitic and Hamitic stock. (Stump K. South Asia in Prophecy. Plain Truth, July/August 1986, p. 5)

Kir looks to point to Syria.  The Bible tells that after Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria took over Damascus, he moved Syrians to Kir.  While this does not mean that Kir must (or must only) be a reference to Syria, the fact that Syria is an ally of Iran is interesting.  Some believe Kir is an area in the south of Iran, while others suggest closer to the Black Sea. God’s word has the expression “the Syrians from Kir” (Amos 9:7), which is basically confirmation that Kir of Isaiah 22 would include Syrians. The Bible also tells of a time when Kir will be destroyed (Isaiah 15:1b) and also says that Syria’s capital Damascus will be destroyed (Isaiah 17:1).

In Isaiah 22: 8, “Judah” is a reference to those in the land commonly called Israel–God will allow Israel to be attacked! In Isaiah 22:9, consider that “the damage to the city of David” is a reference to at least part of Jerusalem–and notice that the damage will be great. And if Israel is hit with great damage, it would seem it would hit Iran hard–perhaps even with a nuclear weapon.

Related to Iran, notice the following prophecy which indicates at least part of its destruction before the latter days:

34 The word of the Lord that came to Jeremiah the prophet against Elam, in the beginning of the reign of Zedekiah king of Judah, saying, 35 “Thus says the Lord of hosts:

‘Behold, I will break the bow of Elam, The foremost of their might. 36 Against Elam I will bring the four winds From the four quarters of heaven, And scatter them toward all those winds; There shall be no nations where the outcasts of Elam will not go. 37 For I will cause Elam to be dismayed before their enemies And before those who seek their life. I will bring disaster upon them, My fierce anger,’ says the Lord; ‘And I will send the sword after them Until I have consumed them. 38 I will set My throne in Elam, And will destroy from there the king and the princes,’ says the Lord.

39 ‘But it shall come to pass in the latter days: I will bring back the captives of Elam,’ says the Lord.” (Jeremiah 49:34-39)

I have long been of the view that Iran would somehow be neutralized before the start of the Great Tribulation and that could happen in 2024.

As far as Iran and Israel go, the Continuing Church of God (CCOG) put together the following Bible News Prophecy video on our Bible News Prophecy YouTube channel, the audio portion of which was sent for broadcast on the European Gospel Radio station AM 1323 kHz:

15:03

Iran and Israel Conflict

European Union foreign policy chief, Josep Borrel, has been brokering the nuclear negotiations involving Iran and said that he thinks the deal is “in danger.” Iran blames the United States, whereas the USA says they are not delaying it. Israeli sources stated that Israel will stop Iran from getting a nuclear bomb. Joe Biden says the USA would use its own military power to prevent Iran from getting such a bomb if need be. In 2021, Iranian lawmakers have submitted a bill seeking the government by law to commit to Israel’s destruction by the year 2040. Does the 22nd chapter of Isaiah point to damage coming to Israel from Iran and possibly Syria? Might Iran be concerned enough about limited progress with the USA to launch some type of attack? Is Iran the prophesied ‘King of the South’? Is it reasonable to think that the prophesied peace deal of Daniel 9:27 will not happen until after a military conflict. like a regional war? Should Christians watch the Middle East? Dr. Thiel and Steve Dupuie discuss these matters.

Here is a link to our video: Iran and Israel Conflict.

As far as other prophecies go, let me also state that it would seem to take a major regional war for the coming temporal ‘peace deal’ of Daniel 9:27 to be ratified. Iran, Syria, and Israel may one day be in a major regional war soon. The USA could also be affected.

We are in the time Jesus referred to as “the beginning of sorrows,” as it appears that two or three of the four horseman of the Apocalypse have begun their rides.

In addition to “rumors of war,” we should expect more wars as Jesus warned in Matthew 24:6.

Iran may attempt to carry out its threats, and that could greatly damage Israel, but that also would not end well for Iran.

Related Items:

Iran in Prophecy Is Iran in Bible prophecy? If so, what does the Bible teach? What names, other than Persia, may be used to describe Iran? Here are two related videos: Iran In Prophecy and Iran and Israel Conflict.

Biden-Harris: Prophecies and Destruction Can the USA survive two full presidential terms? In what ways are Joe Biden and Kamala Harris apocalyptic? This book has hundreds of prophecies and scriptures to provide details. A Kindle version is also available and you do not need an actual Kindle device to read it. Why? Amazon will allow you to download it to almost any device: Please click HERE to download one of Amazon s Free Reader Apps. After you go to your free Kindle reader app (or if you already have one or a Kindle), you can go to: Biden-Harris: Prophecies and Destruction (Kindle) to get the book in seconds.

The Gospel of the Kingdom of God This free online pdf booklet has answers many questions people have about the Gospel of the Kingdom of God and explains why it is the solution to the issues the world is facing. Here are links to four related sermons:  The Fantastic Gospel of the Kingdom of God!, The World’s False Gospel, The Gospel of the Kingdom: From the New and Old Testaments, and The Kingdom of God is the Solution.

The ‘Peace Deal’ of Daniel 9:27 This prophecy could give up to 3 1/2 years advance notice of the coming Great Tribulation. Will most ignore or misunderstand its fulfillment? Here is a link to a related sermon video Daniel 9:27 and the Start of the Great Tribulation. A short video is also available titled Trump’s Deal of the Century and Daniel 9 27? Here is a link to something related in the Spanish language: Estados Árabes emiratos unidos y el tratado de paz en el medio este.

Could God Have a 6,000 Year Plan? What Year Does the 6,000 Years End? Was a 6000 year time allowed for humans to rule followed by a literal thousand year reign of Christ on Earth taught by the early Christians? Does God have 7,000 year plan? What year may the six thousand years of human rule end? When will Jesus return? 2031 or 2025 or? There is also a video titled: When Does the 6000 Years End? 2031? 2035? Here is a link to the article in Spanish: ¿Tiene Dios un plan de 6,000 años?

When Will the Great Tribulation Begin? 2024, 2025, or 2026? Can the Great Tribulation begin today? What happens before the Great Tribulation in the “beginning of sorrows”? What happens in the Great Tribulation and the Day of the Lord? Is this the time of the Gentiles? When is the earliest that the Great Tribulation can begin? What is the Day of the Lord? Who are the 144,000? Here is a version of the article in the Spanish language: ¿Puede la Gran Tribulación comenzar en el 2020 o 2021? ¿Es el Tiempo de los Gentiles? A related video is: Great Tribulation: 2026 or 2027? A shorter video is: Can the Great Tribulation start in 2022 or 2023? Notice also: Can Jesus return in 2023 or 2024? Here is a video in the Spanish language: Es El 2021 el año  de La Gran Tribulación o el Grande Reseteo Financiero.

Lost Tribes and Prophecies: What will happen to Australia, the British Isles, Canada, Europe, New Zealand and the United States of America? Where did those people come from? Can you totally rely on DNA? Do you really know what will happen to Europe and the English-speaking peoples? What about the peoples of Africa, Asia, South America, and the islands? This free online book provides scriptural, scientific, historical references, and commentary to address those matters. Here are links to related sermons: Lost tribes, the Bible, and DNA; Lost tribes, prophecies, and identifications; 11 Tribes, 144,000, and Multitudes; Israel, Jeremiah, Tea Tephi, and British Royalty; Gentile European Beast; Royal Succession, Samaria, and Prophecies; Asia, Islands, Latin America, Africa, and Armageddon;  When Will the End of the Age Come?;  Rise of the Prophesied King of the North; Christian Persecution from the Beast; WWIII and the Coming New World Order; and Woes, WWIV, and the Good News of the Kingdom of God.

LATEST NEWS REPORTS

LATEST BIBLE PROPHECY INTERVIEWS

[sylvielauffeydottir]

Hello, it is I, your friendly neighborhood historian. I am ready to lose followers for this post, but I have two masters degrees in history and one of my focuses has been middle eastern area studies. Furthermore, I’ve been tired of watching the world be reduced to pithy little infographics, and I believe there is no point to my education if I don’t put it to good use. Finally, I am ethnically Asheknazi Jewish. This does not color my opinion in this post — I am in support of either a one or two state solution for Israel and Palestine, depending on the factors determined by the Palestinian Authority, and the Israeli Government does not speak for me. I hate Netanyahu. A lot. With that said, my family was slaughtered at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I have stood in front of that memorial wall at the Holocaust memorial in DC for my great uncle Simon and my great uncle Louis and cried as I lit a candle. Louis was a rabbi, and he preached mitzvot and tolerance. He died anyway. 

There’s a great many things I want to say about what is happening in the Middle East right now, but let’s start with some facts. 

In early May, there were talks of a coalition government that might have put together (among other parties, the Knesset is absolutely gigantic and usually has about 11-13 political parties at once) the Yesh Atid, a center-left party, and the United Arab List, a Palestinian party. For the first time, Palestinians would have been members of the Israeli government in their own right. And what happened, all of the sudden? A war broke out. A war that, amazingly, seemed to shield Benjamin Netanyahu from criminal prosecution, despite the fact that he has been under investigation for corruption for some time now and the only thing that is stopping a real investigation is the fact that he is Prime Minister.

Funny how that happened. 

There’s a second thing people ought to know, and it is about Hamas. I’ve found it really disturbing to see people defending Hamas on a world stage because, whether or not people want to believe it, Hamas is a terrorist organization. I’m sorry, but it is. Those are the facts. I’m not being a right wing extremist or even a Republican or whatever else or want to lob at me here. I’m a liberal historian with some facts. They are a terrorist organization, and they don’t care if their people die. 

Here’s what you need to know: 

There are two governments for the occupied Palestinian territories in the West Bank and Gaza. In April 2021, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas postponed planned elections. He said it was because of a dispute amid Israeli-annexed East Jerusalum. He is 85 years old, and his Fatah Party is losing power to Hamas. Everyone knows that. Palestinians know that. 

Here’s the thing about Hamas: they might be terrorists, but aren’t idiots. They understand that they have a frustrated population filled with people who have been brutalized by their neighbors. And they also understand that Israel has something called the iron dome defense system, which means that if you throw a rocket at it, it probably won’t kill anyone (though there have been people in Israel who died, including Holocaust survivors). Israel will, however, retaliate, and when they do, they will kill Palestinian civilians. On a world stage, this looks horrible. The death toll, because Palestinians don’t have the same defense system, is always skewed. Should the Israeli government do that? No. It’s morally repugnant. It’s wrong. It’s unfair. It’s hurting people without the capability to defend themselves. But is Hamas counting on them to for the propaganda? Yeah. Absolutely. They’re literally willing to kill their other people for it.

You know why this works for Hamas? They know that Israel will respond anyway, despite the moral concerns. And if you’re curious why, you can read some books on the matter (Six Days of War by Michael Oren; The Yom Kippur War by Abraham Rabinovich; Rise and Kill First by Ronen Bergmen; Antisemitism by Deborah Lipstadt; and Israel: A Concise History of a Nation Reborn by Daniel Gordis). The TL;DR, if you aren’t interested in homework, is that Israel believes they have no choice but to defend themselves against what they consider ‘hostile powers.’ And it’s almost entirely to do with the Holocaust. It’s a little David v Goliath. It is, dare I say, complicated.

I’m barely scratching the surface here. 

(We won’t get into this in this post, though if you want to DM me for details, it might be worth knowing that Iran funds Hamas and basically supplies them with all of their weapons, and part of the reason the United States has been so reluctant to engage with this conflict is that Iran is currently in Vienna trying to restore its nuclear deal with western powers. The USA cannot afford to piss off Iran right now, and therefore cannot afford to aggravative Hamas and also needs to rely on Israel to destroy Irani nuclear facilities if the deal goes south. So, you know, there is that).

There are some people who will tell you that criticism of the Israel government is antisemitic. They are almost entirely members of the right wing, evangelical community, and they don’t speak for the Jewish community. The majority of Jewish people and Jewish Americans in particular are criticizing the Israeli government right now. The majority of Jewish people in the diaspora and in Israel support Palestinian rights and are speaking out about it. And actually, when they talk about it, they are putting themselves in great danger to do so. Because it really isn’t safe to be visibly Jewish right now. People may not want to listen to Jews when they speak about antisemitism or may want to believe that antisemitism ‘isn’t real’ because ‘the Holocaust is over’ but that is absolutely untrue. In 2019, antisemitic hate crimes in the United States reached a high we have never seen before. I remember that, because I was living in London, and I was super scared for my family at the time. Since then, that number has increased by nearly 400% in the last ten days. If you don’t believe me, have some articles about it (one, two, three, four, and five, to name a few). 

I live in New York City, where a man was beaten in Time Square while attending a Free Palestine rally and wearing a kippah. I’m sorry, but being visibly Jewish near a pro-Palestine rally? That was enough to have a bunch of people just start beating on him? I made a previous post detailing how there are Jews being attacked all over the world, and there is a very good timeline of recent hate crimes against Jews that you can find right here. These are Jews, by the way, who have nothing to do with Israel or Palestine. They are Americans or Europeans or Canadians who are living their lives. In some cases, they are at pro-Palestine rallies and they are trying to help, but they just look visibly Jewish.  God Forbid we are the wrong ethnicity for your rally, even if we agree.

This is really serious. There are people calling for the death of all Jews. There are people calling for another Holocaust. 

There are 14 million Jews in the world. 14 million. Of 7.6 billion. And you think it isn’t a problem the way people treat us?

Anyway (aside from, you know, compassion), why does this matter? This matters because stuff like this deters Jews who want to be part of the pro-Palestine movement because they are literally scared for their safety. I said this before, and I will say it again: Zionism was, historically speaking, a very unpopular opinion. It was only widespread antisemitic violence (you know, the Holocaust) that made Jews believe there was a necessity for a Jewish state. Honestly, it wasn’t until the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting that I supported it the abstract idea too.

I grew up in New York City, I am a liberal Jew, and I believe in the rights of marginalized and oppressed people to self-determine worldwide. Growing up, I also fit the profile of what many scholars describe as the self hating Jew, because I believed that, in order to justify myself in American liberal society, I had to hate Israel, and I had to be anti-Zionist by default, even if I didn’t always understand what ‘Zionism’ meant in abstract. Well, I am 27 years old now with two masters degrees in history, and here is what Zionism means to me: I hate the Israeli government. They do not speak for me. But I am not anti-Zionist. I believe in the necessity for a Jewish state — a state where all Jews are welcome, regardless of their background, regardless of their nationality. 

There needs to be a place where Jews, an ethnic minority who are unwelcome in nearly every state in the world, have a place where they are free from persecution — a place where they feel protected. And I don’t think there is anything wrong with that place being the place where Jews are ethnically indigenous to. Because believe it or not, whether it is inconvenient, Jews are indigenous to the land of Israel. I’ve addressed this in this post.

With that said, that doesn’t mean you can kick the Palestinian people out. They are also indigenous to that land, which is addressed in the same post, if you don’t trust me. 

What is incredible to me is that Zionism is defined, by the Oxford English Dixtionary, as “A movement [that called originally for] the reestablishment of a Jewish nationhood in Palestine, and [since 1948] the development of the State of Israel.” Whether we agree with this or not, there were early disagreements about the location of a ‘Jewish state,’ and some, like Maurice de Hirsch, believed it ought to be located in South America, for example. Others believed it should be located in Africa. The point is that the original plans for the Jewish state were about safety. The plan changed because Jews wanted to return to their homeland, the largest project of decolonization and indigenous reclamation ever to be undertaken by an indigenous group. Whether you want to hear that or not, it is true. Read a book or two. Then you might know what I mean.

When people say this is a complicated issue, they aren’t being facetious. They aren’t trying to obfuscate the point. They often aren’t even trying to defend the Israeli government, because I certainly am not — I think they are abhorrent. But there is no future in the Middle East if the Israelis and Palestinians don’t form a state that has an equal right of return and recognizes both of their indigenousness, and that will never happen if people can’t stop throwing vitriolic rhetoric around.  Is the Israeli Government bad? Yes. Are Israeli citizens bad? Largely, no. They want to defend their families, and they want to defend their people. This is basically the same as the fact that Palestinian people aren’t bad, though Hamas often is. And for the love of god, stop defending terrorist organizations. Just stop. They kill their own people for their own power and for their own benefit. 

And yes, one more time, the Israeli government is so, so, so wrong. But god, think about your words, and think about how you are enabling Nazis. The rhetoric the left is using is hurting Jews. I am afraid to leave my house. I’m afraid to identify as Jewish on tumblr. I’m afraid for my family, afraid for my friends. People I know are afraid for me. 

It’s 2021. I am not my great uncle. I cried for him, but I shouldn’t have to die like him. 

Words have consequences. Language has consequences. And genuinely, I do not think everyone is a bad person, so think about what you are putting into the world, because you’d be surprised how often you are doing a Nazi a favor or two. 

Is that really what you want? To do a Nazi a favor or two? I don’t think that you do. I hope you don’t, at least.

That’s all. You know, five thousand words later. But uh, think a little. Please. 

[renaerys]

Has anyone said “38. That ass is highly unprofessional” for Reds yet? Because I feel like the comedy potential is enormous

38. “That ass is highly unprofessional.”

There are far too many good scenarios for this excellent prompt and idk if I picked the best one, but an effort was made. 🤡

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

Blossom watched from across the room as Brick fist-bumped the head delegate from the China team. He’d been cagey and weirdly subdued all morning, but the moment the unmoderated caucus began, he slinked away without anyone noticing. Anyone, that is, except Blossom.

“Russia? You were saying?”

Blossom snapped the pencil she’d been holding between her fingers. Denmark leaned back and slowly pulled the cup full of fresh pencils out of her reach. “What? Oh, right. I’m proposing we form a sub-committee to begin formal negotiations.”

“No way, we don’t negotiate with terrorists,” said Canada. “Terrestrial or otherwise.”

The United States stood up and palmed his fist. “Agreed. I say we nuke ‘em before they can nuke us.”

“Oh, sure, great idea, Rambo. This is Model UN, not Independence Day.”

“Wow, super in-character of you, Switzerland. Why are you even here?”

Blossom put up her hand. “We have no idea if the aliens are terrorists. I agree that we can’t discount the possibility of hostile intent, but violence should not be our opening move.”

“Crisis update!” A staffer handed Canada a red envelope, which she read aloud to the gathered students-cum-delegates. The aliens had parked one of their space ships on the Xi’an city wall, destroying a huge chunk of it and killing some civilians, and China was using it as justification to attack with full force.

“Oh my god, I think we might actually be in Independence Day,” Canada said.

“Recess! I’m calling for a recess.” Blossom left the table as the United States, Canada, and a gaggle of European Union countries began to squabble.

She found Brick talking to Israel and Argentina. The minute he saw her coming, he excused himself from the conversation and walked the other way.

“Brick! I know you saw me.” Blossom followed him to the all-gender restrooms, where he was fixing his hair in the mirror. “What are you doing?”

“About to take a gratuitous shit. You might want to get out of here.”

She grabbed his elbow and spun him toward her. “I’m talking about your side conversations. What were you doing talking to China without me?”

“Russia’s a big country, and you looked busy doing your thing. I’m just doing mine.”

“And what, exactly, is your thing?” She peered at him. “I swear to god, if that KGB comment this morning wasn’t a joke and I find out you’ve been threatening the other delegates behind my back—”

“Relax, comrade,” he patted her shoulder, “before you pop a seam in your pencil skirt.”

Blossom could not help but check out her ass in the mirror now that he’d brought it up. Of course, he was also checking out her ass, because he was an uncouth jerk who knew exactly how to get under her skin, and now Blossom was at an impasse. If she told him off, she’d be giving him exactly what he wanted, which was to make her snap and froth. If she did nothing, he’d still win with the knowledge that he’d pissed her off and gotten the last word in to boot.

Much like with terrorists, when it came to dealing with teenage boys, negotiation was not an option; the only solution was total annihilation.

Blossom placed a hand on her hip and stuck her ass out more as she examined herself in the mirror. “You mean, this pencil skirt?”

Brick’s smile fell in defeat like so many doomed German aggressors marching into the heart of Russian winter. “Obviously.”

Perish, you fool.

“Did you see a loose thread somewhere around here?” She turned slightly and ran her finger along the side seam of her skirt in an unbridled act of hormonal militarism. “Or was it on this side?”

Brick rested his weight on the counter because he was weak and cornered and they both knew it.

“No?” She smiled. “Just your imagination, then. We better get back to the conference.”

She made it halfway to the door when Brick hauled his wounded carcass away from the sink counter and desperately fired back with: “Disgraceful tactics, honestly.”

“Me? I’m not the one committing treason and encouraging intergalactic warfare.”

“Hey, I signed up for global warming and nuclear proliferation, not this made up Men in Black bullshit. If aliens attacked we’d just blast them ourselves, no negotiation necessary, we can all go home.”

“Oh my god, so you admit you intentionally sabotaged the exercise! I knew it. You are highly unprofessional.”

“That ass is highly unprofessional!”

“Stop thinking about my ass!”

“I literally fucking cannot after that!”

Blossom fumed. “Are you saying I’m asking for it?”

“I’m saying how dare you expect me not to think about how good your ass looks in that skirt!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it? Well, I’m so sorry for looking amazing in Western business professional!”

“Apology accepted!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

“Fantastic!”

“Wonderful!”

“Incredible!”

“Superb!”

“Glorious!”

“Brilliant!"

Blossom had at least fifteen more increasingly positive synonyms that she could have screamed at Brick, but Denmark popped his head in just as she was getting ready to shout stupendous at top volume.

“Um, hi. We’re taking a vote on what to do about the aliens and we need Russia’s vote, so…yeah.”

The vote was close and also meaningless, since China and several allies acted on their own against the aliens, who of course retaliated and gave the United States carte blanche to bust out the big guns. By the end of the conference, half the world’s population had been eradicated by nuclear weapons or alien technology. It was a complete and total disaster, and Blossom had no idea how she was going to explain it to her Model UN club coach when she got back to Townsville.

“Told you we should have just fought the aliens ourselves,” Brick said as they packed up their things for the flight back home.

“Please stop talking. It makes it harder for me to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Still wearing the skirt, I see.”

Blossom threw her water bottle at him, which was both very childish and very unsatisfying when he caught it. “I’m going to wear pencil skirts every day for the rest of the semester just for you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I dare.”

“I’ll drop out.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I’ll check out your ass every day.”

“Go ahead.”

“I will.”

“Great, because I want you to.”

“Great, because I want to!”

“I’m going to look so good!”

“I completely agree!”

They stormed out of the conference center together.

“See you on Monday,” Blossom said in her best die in a trash heap voice.

“You better wear a skirt,” Brick said as if he’d just invited her to jump into an active volcano.

“I absolutely will.”

“I can’t wait.”

Blossom swallowed a scream and took off flying, knowing she’d be there all day if he didn’t get the last word in.

xxx

“Dude, are you okay? You’ve been aggressively staring at Blossom’s ass all morning.”

Brick sucked on his straw loud enough to draw Blossom’s annoyed glance. “Fuck off, Harry.”

“Are you, like, into her?”

She turned her back to him and power posed with her hands on her hips, which was an extremely flattering angle and a high-key bitch move. “I despise her.”

Harry smiled. “Oh, cool! Cool cool cool… Hey, so I was wondering who I should ask to Homecoming—”

“No.”

“But I just thought since you don’t—”

“No.”

Harry finally fucked off.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[masterofmagnetism]

a prayer like a war cry

WHO: Erik Lehnsherr, Scott Summers @firstxman, Jean Grey-Summers @jeaniegreysummers, Maddie Pryor @rxdqueens, and Lorna Dane @mistressxfmagnetism WHERE: Genosha. Erik’s house and the missile silo. WHEN: 14 days after training with Jean and Lorna went sideways. WHAT: Erik has a plan. The kids aren’t on board, this time. WARNINGS: Literally so many TWs. Major character death, abuse, alcoholism, addiction, plane crash mention, lots and lots of mentions of murder, fire, suicidal ideation, assorted mental health issues, grief, ptsd, manipulation, probably more that I can’t think to tag rn. Proceed! With! Caution! WORDS: 12k

ERIK: Lorna's pulse thumped steadily beneath his fingertips, her chest rising and falling shallowly on the bed. The wound to her chest was well-bound; the bandages that had been wrapped around her head for a few days had been removed since then. Erik had been careful to delicately clean the stitches on the back of her head every night since they were removed.

She never made a sound. She hadn't woken up since Ric carried her back from New York, no matter how much Erik talked to her. No matter how much he begged, or apologized.

He hadn't cried since the night he brought her back to his home from the hospital, since he managed to finagle the nurses into agreeing to come tend her here rather than in a hospital bed. The sterility of the hospital room made him queasy every time he visited; he'd never liked them, and Lorna hadn't either. She'd be happier waking up at home.

If she woke up.

The doctors had told him that she should. Not would, because there were some promises that just couldn't be made, but they'd sounded optimistic. Told him that she'd been through a lot. She needed time. Her body needed time. It made sense, he knew it made sense, but that didn't shake the tightness in his own chest, the fear that sat in his throat that another child was going to slip through his fingers and end up six feet under.

He had cried, after the nurses left for the night, after he'd gone through the checklist they gave him, and he had fallen asleep sitting against the side of the bed, fingers twisted in hers. And he'd fallen asleep praying. He didn't do that much, anymore, had learned along with the rest of his contemporaries during the War that g-d could not be relied on to intercede. The rabbis had tried to rationalize it afterwards, of course. In Israel, across Europe. They had come up with myriad reasons why His 'Chosen People' were left to be exterminated in the most horrific ways possible, tried to salvage their faith.

Erik had never found any of the excuses satisfactory, but that was the thing about faith, wasn’t it? Blind trust. Optimism. Hope. And he’d held onto it, or at least something like it, even as he decided that he would not wait for His hand to do anything for him that his own two hands could not, one way or another.

Lorna had been in His hands, and she was alive. Not awake, but alive, and that was something. That was more than he’d gotten for her sister. Lorna hadn’t died, and that meant something.

Her waking up would mean something, too, if Erik had anything to say about it. The idea of retaliation had been on his mind since she’d come back cold and almost dead, as Ric could attest to, but his thinking had evolved that first night. He had the means, nestled in their quickly-built silos on the coast. It’d be something swift, something clean, something that wouldn’t require anyone else to get their hands dirty as the siege had, something that wouldn’t run the risk of another Raven. It would, quite literally, be as easy as a push of the button. As easy as sitting on the coast watching the sun set behind New York, and clearing the buildings and people out of the way for the sun to shine unimpeded on Genosha.

He’d had a week to do it, and yet something had sat uneasy in his chest, something that screamed that it was as wrong as the way Lorna’s heart had stutter-stopped across the bay. There was another voice that was louder than that, too. ‘They deserve it. You’ve always known they do. Always known this would end only one way. You’ve tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, time and time and time again, and what do you have to show for it? Loss after loss after loss. Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal. The kids will understand, when it’s all over. Just like they did with the siege.’

That niggling feeling in the back of his mind had stilled his action, until now. Instead, for the first time in a long time, Erik had decided to put his next move in His hands, too.

If she wakes up, I won’t do it. If she wakes up, I will let this pass. Just let her wake up. Let her wake up.

He’d given it seven days, and Lorna’s eyes still hadn’t opened.

That was his answer, then. Erik closed his eyes, leaned forward in his chair to press Lorna’s knuckles against his forehead, letting out a slow breath through his nose and squeezing her hand.

Once more, he asked. And once more, she didn’t stir. Something steady and quiet and assured settled across his shoulders, and Erik pressed his lips to the back of Lorna’s hand before he pushed up to his feet. He set her arm gently on the bed, and brushed back a loose strand of her hair, fingers running along her cheek for just a moment.

She would wake when this was finished. He was sure of it.

Erik picked his helmet up from next to him and settled it over his head before stepping out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

The walk to the silo building passed in the blink of an eye, and by the time Erik snapped back to himself, his hands were trailing along the shells of the missiles. He could feel the energy contained inside, a heady sensation up so close. His fingers were halfway to the first manual switch when he heard the door open behind him, and three sets of footsteps in the wake of the click. Erik’s lips thinned, and he turned, eyes almost fever-bright. “She hasn’t woken up.”

SCOTT: Erik was planning something.

Only a few months ago, the concept had been one that sparked hope in Scott’s chest, bright and hot and unfamiliar. Erik had had a plan then, and Scott had been on board. He’d been excited, he’d been ready. They had stormed the U.N., they had done what they needed to do. They had taken Erik’s plan and they had made a home of it. They had turned it into safety, into security, and for the first time in his life, Scott had been blessed with a warmth that didn’t slip through his fingers. Only a few months ago, Erik had been planning something and Scott had been behind him without hesitation.

But things were different now.

Rictor had been uncharacteristically quiet, the few times Scott had seen him around the island. He looked angrier than usual, which was saying something for Ric. He looked tense, looked over his shoulder at every turn like he was worried he might find someone he didn’t want to see standing there, and Scott knew who he was searching for. He knew that Rictor looked very much like he had looked at fourteen, with Jack looming over his shoulder and bruises hidden beneath his sweatshirt. Erik, Scott feared, had become exactly the sort of man he’d dedicated his life to fighting against. He’d become Jack Winters, become Nathaniel Essex, become Sebastian Shaw. He’d become the monster under the bed, the thing their people feared.

And Scott couldn’t let it go on any longer.

Erik would be glad for it, if he were himself. Scott knew that. Jean could attest to as much in the way she’d asked Zatanna to kill her back when she knew she’d gone too far, in the way she’d begged her family to stop her before she became the thing she desperately wanted not to be. When the people you loved turned to their own demons, when they became the vengeful spirit making the walls of their own homes drip blood, exorcism was a kindness. It was a necessity.

The Hendersons lived near the silos, and when Scott had asked them to let him know if Erik passed by their apartment, they hadn’t questioned the request. They trusted him. They asked if he was worried about Erik, looked concerned with the question. ’He’s so torn up over poor Lorna,’ Michelle had sighed, glancing mournfully out the window as if she could see Erik from there. Maybe she could --- he wasn’t sure about the limits on her ability to peer through solid surfaces. ’Hasn’t left the hospital much, from what I hear. If he’s out this way, I’ll let you know. We should all keep an eye on him together. A show of support.’ Scott had tasted bile in his throat when he’d nodded, had felt like a villain when he’d smiled. A show of support. It made his stomach clench.

He wished he were more surprised when, seven days after he’d stopped Erik from murdering Rictor in a hospital lobby, Michelle Henderson texted him with a grainy photo of Erik passing by her window with his hands in his pockets. ’He looks sad,’ was the accompanying message, and Scott tried to look hard enough to see the expression on Erik’s face in the photo, tried to determine if the set of his shoulders was grief or anger or determination or some combination of the three. Maddie and Jean were both in the kitchen when he exited the bedroom, twin expressions of grim determination on their faces. They knew what needed to be done here. They knew.

The trek to the silos was a silent one. Even their minds were quiet, like they were all terrified of thinking the thought, all nervous to be the one to put words to the act they were about to commit. None of them wanted to do it, Scott knew. None of them wanted to be here. But Erik was planning something, and the thought wasn’t supposed to fill them all with dread. It wasn’t supposed to make their blood run cold.

Erik didn’t seem surprised when they entered the silo building. It was almost like he’d been expecting them. The helmet on his head made the thought a much scarier one, the idea that he was actively hiding things from them instead of doing it passively enough to make Scott freeze in the doorway. Erik spoke, and he sounded like Winters, like Sinister. He sounded like a madman. Scott closed his eyes behind his visor, chest tight.

“She will,” he said, voice bouncing off the walls around them, echoing to fill the empty space. “Don’t you want to be there when she does? Go home, Erik. Don’t do this tonight.” Don’t do this at all. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let Erik know that they weren’t on the same page anymore, that they hadn’t been for a while now. He told himself there was pleading left to be done. He told himself there was hope of saving this, of saving Erik. He told himself that, if Erik left this building without doing what he’d come here to do, it might mean there was hope.

He’d gotten good at lying to himself, over the years.

JEAN: When you loved someone, you ignored their worst parts. You adored them in spite of the characteristics and opinions you would hate in a stranger, that would drive you to war with an enemy. Jean ignored Scott’s tendency towards violence (the hypocrisy of that uncomfortable stone in her stomach wasn’t lost on her, either. She was capable of ripping the world apart just as often). She ignored the fact that Maddie was fashioned from fibres of the Phoenix, delivered to her doorstep as a manifestation of best intentions. She ignored how Erik walked out that door, leaving her with tear tracks running down her face and worlds they’d created crashing around her, ignored the years they’d been on opposite sides of battles.

(It went both ways, Jean knew. Kara ignored her tendency to run from problems, to box them firmly in specified areas of her brain to think about sometime close to never. Scott ignored the fact that Jean was, as she was slowly coming to admit, absolutely fucking insane. The X-Men ignored Jean burning to ashes on the front lawn of the home that was supposed to represent safety and comfort, ignored that she brought a vicious, angry entity into their lives through nothing but ignorance and naivety and a desperate clutch towards being unafraid.)

She had to make it convincing. Erik would see through her in an instant. He’d tracked her expressions since she was little more than ten years old. He knew her inside and out, knew her better than most, knew her angry and vengeful as much as he did happy and, on rare occasions, calm. He knew her -- and that meant it had to be believable. She had to be warm, had to be compassionate, had to be Jean Grey.

And that meant ignoring it. It meant remembering why she’d adored him so thoroughly. It meant putting this cold rage into a box, and bringing the flickering fire back into front and centre.

It meant flicking through photo albums, seeing the letters he wrote her as a child, reading through books they’d enjoyed. It meant practising what he’d told her, exploring her powers and feeling proud to be a mutant for the first time, not feeling as if she was passing for anything other than what she was, totally in tune with the world around her. It meant looking at Lorna, feeling that desperate pull in her chest, and remembering that this girl who she loved so completely was half of him, so at least fifty percent must be worth taking another breath.

It meant telling herself she wasn’t the monster she was becoming, that she would shed a tear when he was dead. In the back of her mind, Jean simply resented the fact that she wasn’t the one to deliver the final blow -- but she had to make it believable. She had to be his friend, his daughter. She had to be another half of him out there in the world.

Did Maddie know what they were going into? Did she know why they moved under the cover of darkness, why Jean asked her to mask their movements from the other citizens and even those they considered family? Had Scott told her -- had they talked in the kitchen when Jean was pretending to sleep, staring at the ceiling and counting how many days until she killed another piece of her own soul? Did she know, or was she following them out of love, because when you adored someone you ignored their murderous inclinations?

(It was almost funny. It was almost ironic. The Phoenix was flickering, and if she wanted this to stop, she would’ve told Erik. She might’ve already. She might have been manipulating them all, just waiting for them to get together and laugh at the cataclysmic explosion that was sure to follow. The Phoenix was life itself -- she knew what was about to happen, and she let it happen anyway. The true manifestation of evil, Jean thought to herself. All those things you ignored because you loved me, the Phoenix provided. Jean pretended it was her own mind.)

She’d been quiet with him. Nothing explosive like usual -- no arguments that led to raised voices and smashed plates. He would know she had shifted, know she had changed, but there were other things she could blame it on, other griefs. Her family were dead. He was the closest to a father she had left. She was simply protecting her own heart, or scared that she would lose someone else close -- it was a matter of preserving his life, worried for what the Shi’ar would do when they saw what he meant to her.

Any number of arguments came to mind, but Jean didn’t go for any of them. Her hand slipped out of Maddie’s (she’d held it on the way without realising, without noticing the pulling need to share her energy in that moment). Instead she stepped forward, Scott’s words still ringing in the silence between them, and reached her hand for Erik’s.

“Talk to me,” she said, voice thin (she was desperately holding it in. She wanted to scream how could you? She wanted to crack the Earth beneath him. She wanted to say Lorna was hurt because of him -- but they were both guilty of so much, the words got caught almost naturally in her throat). “We can talk with words, or we can talk in our minds. We can do anything you want, Erik, but don’t do it alone.” Her composure cracked, but it made it sound more like a plea than a threat. “Don’t block me out, please. I can’t lose someone else.”

MADDIE: There was a point when someone was faced with a decision, a scarily huge one, and were at a crossroads. Which path to take, the unknowns daunting over either option making it that much harder to make a choice. Then there were times where the decision was made for you, something so impactful it shoves you down the pathway before you can even try to think what pros and cons the other pathway brings you. Scott, Jean, and Maddie had been pushed down this path and were racing down it at a fast speed, slowing down enough to mask what impact was incoming for Erik. It had felt like since the incident at Jean’s family home they had been hurtling down a path that was set for them, dominoes falling and setting off a chain of events that fate had in mind for them, no matter how painful.

Initially, Maddie hadn’t even been aware of the plan. Her mind whirling over her own struggles with where exactly she fit into everything. There were no photos in Jean’s family home of her, it was like she was a ghost. Someone who passed through the unseen to walk among those who were tangible. It scared her, left her with entirely too many questions rather than answers. Naturally, she shoved these worries far away from the reach of Jean. Jean could find them if she dug, went searching, but Maddie knew she wouldn’t. Not unless she gave her a reason to, so she had to keep silent. Scott approaching her while Maddie took to having tea on a sleepless night was easy enough to focus on instead.

It was almost too easy to agree, to simply nod and ask when they were to move forward, to sit on standy for the inevitable. It had to be done, Maddie wondered what it said about her to be so willing to go along with a murderous plan without so much of a flinch. 

(Did sinister feelings already exist in her and were simply waiting for the excuse to finally seep out like a poison to infect her? Was it really sinister if she was doing this and it was ultimately for the best? When did she start rationalizing the lack of feeling truly anything but understanding to a murder?)

The day came, the air changed in the kitchen upon Scott entering. A grim realization dawned that there was stepping out now, no backing down. The voice in the back of her mind was silent, too silent, she didn’t know if that was a good thing. It felt ominous in itself as Maddie cloaked their movements through the night, undetected to anyone and everyone, even those she wouldn’t normally. Those she loved, but Erik was among those, the ones she loved and despite the rationalizing of it all there was a quiet ache in her chest along the fire that normally simmered there. Her fingers curled around her sister’s, grounding her as much as she was sure it was doing for the other as well. There was no going back.

Maddie wasn’t sure if the cold seeping down to her bones was from the silo or the ice that was breaching the canyon between Erik and the three of them. Her tongue bled from how hard she bit it, keeping in far too many words that threatened to flow. Not now. (She wasn’t even sure if she had a right to say them. A new addition to the family, sliding in like she had always belonged, but entirely unsure if she belonged. After all, what did it say that everyone, Erik included, initially thought her to be Jean?) .

“We’re not going to leave you alone,” Maddie finally spoke, in space of the angry words that were a threat to bleed into her tone despite her masking it all. “She’ll wake up, because she will wake up, and will want you firstmost. This can wait.” Her tone was careful, even as she could manage.

Looking at Jean, Maddie’s frown was genuine. There was a flash of the way her sister crumbled as she saw her parents lying far too still before the house was set aflame by Derry. It had stayed with her and was sure it would for a very long time. The grief had been palpable, an ache that could be felt even after they had left the home. The only difference in this moment they were all grieving for the living, for the person before them. 

ERIK: When you lived your whole life on a precipice, that looming drop became something familiar, something that settled in your blood, in your bones. Mind your step, always, and Erik did. He had survived where countless others hadn’t, instincts always on, always making sure his footsteps were sure, always ready to fight off anything that might knock him off balance.

Here, in a room with three of his four living children, Erik felt for the first time in a long time like the ground wasn’t quite steady under his feet.

It was hard to put a finger on what, exactly, the problem was—perhaps Scott’s pause in the doorway, perhaps the way Jean was suddenly in his arms after two weeks of avoidance, perhaps the way Maddie held her tongue and sounded calm in a way he’d rarely seen from her.

Individually, excusable.

Together? That creep of unease that had him put on the helmet before he left coiled itself around his spine, wound down to where Jean had taken his hands.

For all their fights, he’d never killed one of the X-Men. Not because he couldn’t; he had a mental file of the known powerset of whatever the current roster was, all the ways to get to them if need be. Not because of Charles, either—if the man saw fit to send children to fight him, well, he should be damned ready to face the consequences. Not because they were children; Erik had first taken a life (had taken three) when he was fourteen years old. No, Erik hadn’t held back on principle.

Erik had held back for Jean, who loved her team as much as she loved him.

Jean was in his arms, asking him to talk to her after two weeks of the silent treatment, taking his hands after avoiding his presence for just as long, and Erik knew something was wrong, even as badly as he wanted to believe it. Self-deception was an easy trap to fall into, for the ones you loved.

One he’d already fallen into. That was why he was here, after all. To fix what weakness had wrought him.

He couldn’t let them stop him. But maybe, maybe, he could make them understand what was so crystal clear in his mind, now.

(Charles had told him once that there was something clean to the way his mind handled plans. Setting them up involved a tangle of ideas, red strings on pinboards, but once they were finalized? It was something crisp, pure. A silver thread from problem to solution. This one had been there for a long time, behind locked doors. Had been there since that day Charles had found out Shaw’s plans from Emma and looked so horrified while Erik had quietly weighed its odds of success.)

“I know she’ll wake up,” Erik said, glancing between Scott and Maddie. “I know. But not now. Not until I do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Alone, or with his family at his side, it would be done. “It’s been seven days. This is what needs to happen.”

And if they get in your way….

“You were right about Ric, Scott. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on him. He did what he knows how to do. He tried to help with her anger the same way I would have, and he saved her life by bringing her back here. Killing all those men. My anger should never have been leveled at him. No, it’s the people who pulled the trigger who are the problem. The humans.”

Erik’s fingers wrapped tightly around Jean’s hands, and his expression was determined but earnest. He could convince her. Needed to convince her. “It’s been long enough, hasn’t it? I’ve tried, again and again and again, to give them the benefit of the doubt. For your sake. And every time, we lose someone else. Anya, you, Scott, Raven. How many more of us need to die? Lorna is pulling through this time, but what about next time? If it’s Maddie? If it’s your daughter?” he said, gaze flicking from Jean’s gaze to Scott’s. “Because it will be Rachel, eventually. It’ll be all of us.”

That much was clear, now. So clear, he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before, how he’d settled for the siege when there was so much more to be done. “This island is a target on our backs. Why should we huddle here, waiting for the inevitable to happen? Why should we settle for this little spit of land when we could have more, when we deserve more? What is this, really? A glorified containment cell, one they will grow weary of sooner or later.”

No, his children deserved the world. And they would have it, even if it meant taking it on their behalf.

Erik’s hands in Jean’s pulled her close, twisted just slightly so that she was between him and Scott as he wrapped her in an embrace, pressed his lips to her hair.

He loved them, but he didn’t trust them.

Jean’s weakness was Scott, and Scott’s weakness was Jean, as it had been since they were teenagers. Scott might be willing to risk bystanders in a hospital, but he would never risk his wife.

The switches on the missiles flipped to ‘on,’ coordinate screens lighting up at once.

“You told me that the Phoenix shows you the truth, Jean,” he murmured against the top of her head. “This is the truth. One I’ve tried very hard to ignore for a very long time. Do you remember what I showed you of Cuba?” The reactor room. I'd like you to know that I agree with every word you said. We are the future.

“I tried the other ways, for you. But it’s time to stop lying to ourselves, schatzi. It was always going to go this way. If you don’t want to help me, go home. Let me take care of this the way I should have long ago.”

SCOTT: Jean told him once, in the cold chill of winter, that the Phoenix took everything you had and made it bigger. It amplified all the things you were, all the things you felt. For me, she’d said, the Phoenix found expression through my emotions. It made them so huge that there was no room under the sky for my joy, my grief, my love for you. When he opened his eyes in that graveyard, when he stood in front of his tombstone and realized the burning in his chest was more than just the restarting of his heart, he’d waited for it. He’d spent days with bated breath, waiting for the Phoenix to amplify his emotions the way they amplified Jean’s, waiting to feel everything so big that there was no room left for anything else.

It never came.

Instead of an onslaught of emotion, instead of joy and grief and love too large to ever be contained, Scott felt empty. He felt nothing. And it wasn’t just for current events, wasn’t just for the things as they happened in real time --- Scott felt nothing so intensely that he could hardly remember ever having felt anything at all. If he had, if he had felt the things he’d been through with the same intensity as he was meant to, he wouldn’t have been able to stomach what they did to Derry at all. It made him uneasy now, made him uncomfortable, but if he were himself? Scott would have fought harder against it. He would have refused to let it come to be. If Scott felt everything instead of nothing, it would be better. It would be preferable.

(He thought of his mother. He thought of the locked door, of the blackout curtains over her bedroom window, of the way she got out of bed so rarely that there were days Scott did everything for Alex, changed his diapers and warmed his bottles and put him to bed. He thought of how depression was often synonymous with numbness. He thought of how he’d spent so much of his childhood longing to become his father, of how he might have become his mother instead, of how neither option was a good one in the end. He thought of how this, too, should make him feel something, and of how it didn’t.)

Of course, there were some situations where the numbness was useful. Right now, standing in this room with the silos and controls laid out in front of them, Scott saw how it could be used as an advantage. The old Scott Summers, the one who existed with no spark of the Phoenix in his soul, wouldn’t have been able to do what he planned to do here. Even when Erik was his enemy, that version of Scott could never shoot to kill. He kept his blasts controlled. He kept himself from unleashing his full potential. He kept Erik alive. And maybe, in the end, this made the entire situation his own fault. Maybe if that old version of Scott had done what needed to be done ten years ago, he wouldn’t be faced with this now.

 But the past was the past. Scott hadn’t been strong enough to do what needed to be done then, but he was now. He was. He would do what he always did, what he had done since he was sixteen years old --- what was best for his people. And what was best for his people, today, meant getting rid of one of them. For the greater good. If Erik were in his right mind, he’d understand that.

Jean’s voice was soft, was gentle, was an act. They knew what they had come here to do. They knew talking was not the end goal. As much as Scott wanted Erik to come out and agree with them, he doubted that would be the end result. Magneto had always been steadfast in his beliefs, always had a mind impossible to change. (Mr. Sinister wouldn’t have been able to shape it, to mold it as he had Scott’s. If Scott were more like Erik-) Even Charles couldn’t manage it, with their history. Even Jean didn’t stand a chance. This, Scott knew, eliminated any shot he might have had. Maddie spoke next, tones a twin lie standing side by side with Jean’s, hand-in-hand. They were good actors, the two of them. Scott almost believed they had some intention of letting Erik redeem himself.

And then it was Erik’s voice, flat and steady and determined. He looked to Scott, he said you were right, and for a moment, the dull, emotionless version of hope sparked in his chest. But then Erik kept talking. He continued, he went on about what needed to be done, and it was too late. It had been too late for a long time now.

In the back of his mind, the Phoenix whispered. ’Maybe he’s right,’ the bird said. ’Maybe this is the only way. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? It would be simpler.’ And Scott shut his eyes behind his visor, drew a breath. He thought of Jean. Of how she looked at him on their wedding day, fingers intertwined with his. Of Colleen out in the chairs spread in the grass, grinning. Of Cassie, the way her hair tangled into hopeless knots when she fell asleep on their sofa. Of Zatanna and the horrible favor she’d done for Jean, saving her and ending her all at once. Of Kara when she’d landed behind him in Genosha, of the pain in her voice that he’d ignored because it wasn’t a convenient thing for him to notice. If Erik did what he wanted to do, they would all be caught in the crossfire.

If Scott let Erik do what he wanted to do, his daughter would never look him in the eyes again.

It was Rachel’s name that tore his eyes open, Rachel’s name that settled like determination in his chest. Rachel thought highly of him. She thought he was a hero. If he let the Phoenix convince him that Erik was right the same way he had let it convince him that Derry’s memories needed to fade, she would change her mind. Erik brought up Scott’s daughter in hopes of swaying him one way, but her name pushed him in the other direction. If Scott Summers had ever been a good man, it was only for the people he loved. If Scott Summers had ever been a hero, it was only thanks to his desperation to live up to their expectations. Loving them was what made him decent. Nothing else ever really came close.

Erik knew what they were here to do. Scott had no doubt. It was why he’d shifted Jean, why he’d placed her strategically between them. It was why his tone sounded as close to begging as Scott had ever heard it. He wasn’t begging for his own life --- he wasn’t begging to be allowed to live. He was begging to be allowed to destroy. Maybe that said the only thing worth saying in this entire ordeal. Maybe the truth came not in the words, but in the implications between them.

Do you remember what I showed you of Cuba? The words were meant for Jean, but Scott felt them too. He understood, remembered Jean sharing it with him. He understood what it meant.

He understood that it was too late.

“We won’t be a part of this,” he said flatly. “Jean, let’s go home.” And he reached out across the bond, touched his mind to hers. When you step away from him, he said, I’ll do it. Be ready to contain the blast. I’m going to take out the controls along with him. No one finishes what he started.

(He didn’t say what he feared --- that, if the controls were left untarnished, the one who was in the most danger of deciding to finish what Erik had started was him.)

JEAN: History repeated itself. It was a lesson that Jean learned a long time ago, perhaps sometime around the thirtieth battle between X-Men and Brotherhood. No matter what they did, no matter how they fought or what they sacrificed, the world would treat them just the same. No matter how long it had been, no matter how many Christmases she arrived on the doorstep and felt like a stranger, the Greys would never be a home like the Institute became — like the Institute had been with both of them in those offices.

If Charles was here now, would he say Jean had failed to learn from his mistakes? Would he say this felt like Cuba, like a moment where metal was flying for a beach and then into a spine? Would he tell the story with the same regret as had flooded through Jean’s mind when Erik showed her the memory — and would there be the same determination as there was with Erik, the same certainty that if the situation was repeated, he would make the same choices?

Erik had been right, of course. Sebastian Shaw deserved a coin through his head more than almost anyone else Jean had ever met — the exception being Jack Winters. It was all in the execution. It was all in the not knowing when to stop, all in Erik pushing it just that little bit too far.

Then again, couldn’t the same be said of Jean herself?

Of course, Jean knew that already. Jean knew that, and she put a contingency plan in place. She called Zatanna to her home, befriended her, trusted her, made Zatanna trust in her — and then she asked a veritable stranger to kill her, believing that she would if push came to shove. Better to lose a single life than to destroy a world. Erik would think with the same pragmatism, if he wasn’t the one being killed.

But he was. He was, and the cool tone of his voice, the way his grip tightened only slightly, the drop in his words as he spoke — Jean almost could’ve sworn he knew it would happen. She was almost positive that it was like that moment out on the lawn right before she took her final breath, when she was capable of fighting back but didn’t, because something deep down inside of her said, this needs to happen. This always needed to happen. Erik would want this.

Erik would want this, and with Lorna and Kara fresh in her mind, Jean very much wanted this too. The darkest parts of her had raised their ugly heads, and Maddie could hear them, she knew. Maddie could feel them long before they clasped hands.

And Scott could feel it too.

We can help you, Jean told Scott, letting the thought bleed through to Maddie’s psyche at the same time. We can sharpen you. I’ve been training — I can give us all the roadmap to make us stronger.

To unlock their true potential. To destroy as they were intended to destroy. To put Erik’s hours of teaching to good use. Almost ironic. Almost tragic.

Jean wished she could feel anything but anger.

She lifted her hand, pulling back only slightly to touch against Erik’s cheek. “I really do love you,” she said, “but I can’t love this.”

Now.

A step back, and Jean closed her eyes, focusing everything on that burning core at the forefront of Scott’s mind, the flames he’d always tried to contain.

SCOTT: Ever since he was young, Scott had learned to hide pieces of himself. It was something that started in his parents’ house, when his father was a retreating back and his mother was a locked door and he had learned to push down the parts of him that needed things in order to make himself easier to love. This tendency grew as he did, and he began burying more and more of himself. When he was trying to impress prospective adoptive parents, he was a chameleon. A woman wearing a cross necklace approached him holding the hand of a man in a suit and Scott found religion in the time it took them to cross the room, spoke of church as if it were a place he had been more than once in order to make himself wanted. A man with glasses and a collared shirt who Essex told him was a teacher saw him carefully reading library books and trying to look intelligent. Every person who walked through the orphanage door met a different version of Scott Summers, and they all left him just the same.

It became natural, of course, to hide his mutation as best he could when it came along, too. At first, when it was just headaches and the occasional blackout that he later discovered were due to Sinister’s experiments, this was simple. Scott could go into his bedroom and lock the door, could throw the blanket over his head and turn out the lights. The other kids thought he was weird, but only in the way kids always thought each other odd. Only in the way schoolyard bullies teased about. It wasn’t until he took out a wall that they realized there was something dangerous there, wasn’t until he was fitted with ruby quartz glasses that hiding became harder. But he tried. Lord, did he try. He pretended the glasses were a fashion choice, prayed for sunny days so he wouldn’t look different, used them as a mask to hide more and more of himself. His powers, he had learned in the beginning, were a part of him, too. And the glasses hid that. It was a familiar sort of comfort.

But now… Now, the person he loved most in the world was telling him to stop hiding. The person he loved so much that she had taught him what love was to begin with was telling him to let go, to open his eyes and let that piece of himself free. And there would be consequences. There were always consequences, when the truth came out. His parents grew more distant when they realized he was a child, full of wants and needs and a selfish desire to be loved. Those families who might have adopted him lost all interest when he dropped the act, even if only for a second. The other kids at the orphanage started treating him more like a bomb than a person when the walls came down. And if he took off his glasses... 

If he took off his glasses, Erik would die. Scott knew this. Scott had known this since the beginning, since the three of them headed here, since before that. If he took off his glasses, there would be broken controls and a body and if there was anything left of his soul, that would be done away with, too. War made everyone a murderer in the end, but Scott had never imagined it would lead him here. If he took off his glasses, he would be killing someone he loved more than anything.

And saving the rest. 

Life was full of terrible choices. It was full of plane crashes where there were four people and one parachute, full of mothers putting that salvation on their childrens’ backs and pushing them out of planes with their baby brothers in their arms and firm instructions not to let go. It was full of scientists who wanted to pick you apart but swore they loved you while they were doing it. It was full of men who found you in the streets and beat you, who told you to be grateful for their fists bruising your ribs because at least it meant someone cared enough about you to make contact. It was full of silos with bombs tucked safely inside and people you loved standing at the controls. It was full of the woman you loved begging you without words to kill her father, full of knowing she might hate you when it was over. If Scott killed Erik, he’d never forgive himself. If he didn’t, he’d hate himself just the same.

Glancing to Jean, Scott set his jaw before looking back to Erik. They locked eyes, even if only for a moment. Neither of them had the telepathy Jean or Maddie boasted and, even if they had, Erik’s helmet would have prevented any kind of connection. Scott offered a silent apology all the same.

The glasses came off. The world was red.

The world was always red.

ERIK: Death wasn’t something that was ever far from Erik’s mind.

The how of it had always been up in the air. When he’d been a child, he’d been certain it’d come at the guns of the Schutzstaffel, or in one of the many arsons that plagued Jewish neighborhoods. He’d thought it might come at the end of Shaw’s pistol, as it had for his mother, or under the man’s knife while he was strapped down for another experiment. Maybe it would come in a workplace accident at the manufacturing plant. Perhaps it would reach him while he was lapping the globe meting out his revenge on ex-Nazis. Or with Sebastian Shaw’s hand around his throat in the reactor room. Or with a bullet he was too slow to stop on a beach a thousand miles from home. Of late, he’d considered that it might come at the hands of the humans, and he’d been prepared despite best-laid plans to die for his people during the siege if that was what it took.

He’d die fighting, though. Always.

(Almost always. There’s another way, one that creeps on him on the bad nights, when alcohol and nicotine and sex or adrenaline aren’t enough to keep the worst thoughts at bay. He wouldn’t die naturally, he’d discovered decades ago when his aging had slowed to nothing more than the scarcest crawl; no, his death, like most of the defining events of his life, was going to be something traumatic. Unless.)

Erik was a survivor, even when those he cared for didn’t make it along with him.

That didn’t mean death was ever very far from reach. The constant little voice reminding him of that fact kept him constantly on edge, constantly paranoid, constantly ready to identify and destroy whatever threat was coming to finish the job so many others had failed.

He’d imagined death many times, but he’d never imagined it coming from his family. Dying to protect his family was one thing, something he would accept in a heartbeat. But dying at their hands was another story entirely. .

(Shaw laughs, somewhere, and grins that poisonous, condescending grin and chides him for being so soft. You knew better than that, didn’t you? )

Maybe he should have. Maybe this was history repeating itself, and Erik blinding himself to it because he’d never known how to care with only half a heart. Maybe love was a far more fickle thing for everyone else than he’d ever really given it credit for.

Magda, twirling with him in the cabin he’d built them with his own two hands as music crackled out of their record player, Anya standing on his toes between them, had looked every bit as in love as he was. Until she wasn’t. Until a circle of humans who had attacked their home, murdered their daughter, lay at his feet, and there was no amount of love he could’ve given that would’ve stilled her feet as she ran.

Suzanna, constantly casting her eyes at the door, murmuring how much more she enjoyed his presence than that of her husband, how much she wished she could stay. Until the clock ticked past eleven. Until she got up, issuing apology after apology, and left to return to the human man who finger-shaped bruises on her arms and throat, who left her flinching at loud noises and still was worth more.

Charles, grinning at him over a chessboard or laughing as they tossed flour at each other in the kitchen, who had told him that the Institute was his home as long as he wanted it. Until it wasn’t. Until there was a sea of humans firing missiles at his family, and suddenly his usefulness as a weapon wasn’t quite so appreciated when it was turning those very missiles at the humans. Suddenly it was we don’t want the same thing and disappointed eyes and a gentle push until Erik let his place be taken by the human who seconds before had tried to end his life.

It was all love, until it came to humans on the receiving end of Erik’s fire, and then this. And then it was Jean, looking him in the eyes and saying ’I really do love you, but.’

But.

She said it, but those words didn’t reach her eyes. There was no love there, no warmth, nothing recognizable as the little girl he’d come to think of as a daughter at the Institute or the woman he’d danced with at her wedding just a few months ago. Her mouth said ‘I love you,’ but everything else in her posture, in her face, in her eyes, said but.

’I can’t love this.’

Erik would laugh if his chest didn’t feel like it’d been cracked open at the cold expression, so incongruent with the hand brushing his cheek but perfectly aligned with the words falling from her lips. Because of course. Of course.

“Just like your father.” The words tasted like ash.

Erik wasn’t sure what line everyone else seemed to see, between the Erik they loved and this. Between whatever they always thought he was, and what they inevitably saw in the moment before everything fell apart. It didn’t matter how honest he was about his beliefs, about his intentions, about any of it. He’d tried; g-d, how he’d tried.

He loved so much, but. I can’t love this. Something in him was clearly broken, clearly unlovable, and Erik wasn’t sure when Jean had seen it. How much of the love he’d thought he saw before was an act and how much was real. Pathetic.

(How could it have been real? Why would it have been? Love didn’t just disappear, and if it wasn’t there now, it hadn’t been there at all. Had he simply been a matter of convenience? A weapon useful to avenge Scott, but not once it had a mind of its own. Useful until he wasn’t.)

She stepped back, and Erik’s gaze skipped across her and Maddie, until finally his eyes caught Scott’s, through the quartz.

He knew what was going to happen. Scott’s fingers had already slid up to the visor, and it was a pantomime of that scene in the hospital waiting room last week. A moment where Erik had to weigh his chances. .

He could stop Scott, if he tried. Simply turn off the man’s synapses, and he’d be dead before he hit the floor. He could do it to Jean too, quite probably. Maddie.

He could do it, and he could fire the missiles, and he could walk away from this silo with the life he’d managed to sustain against all odds for over ninety years. He could return to Lorna’s bedside and watch her wake up, ensure that she wouldn’t wake up alone. There would be no more human problems, and his daughter would be awake and at his side, wouldn’t be left an orphan when she woke up, and it was a possibility close enough to taste.

But love didn’t disappear, and Erik loved Jean Grey. He loved her, loved Scott, loved Maddie, despite her relative novelty and incessant annoyances, and there was no force in the universe that was going to make him murder his own children. Certainly not to save his own skin.

I’m sorry, Lorna.

Scott flipped his visor.

The world went red, pain slammed into his chest, and the red slipped into black. Erik was dead before he hit the floor.

JEAN: Just like your father.

There was one part of Jean that she knew was her own. The Phoenix came to her at eighteen, sunk its talons into her shoulders and remained an occasionally silent, oftentimes loud companion for decades after. For a long time, she thought that was a blessing — thought its influence prevented death, inspired life, protected her family. Now, she knew better. She knew she was a passenger in her own body, a prisoner to her own impulses. The Phoenix took her anger and made it bigger than compassion, bigger than logic, bigger than love. But there was one part, a part Erik had facilitated, a part that had grown in her since she was barely ten years old.

Jean Grey was a soldier. Like her husband, like her best friends, like the only true parents she’d ever known. She was a soldier, and that meant when something needed done, she could compartmentalise. She could bury emotions, could get the deed done. She could appear in Charles’ office covered in blood, could stomach his disappointment, could understand that it needed to be done regardless.

Did he know this was the outcome, all those years the X-Men faced off against the Brotherhood? Was it the Phoenix, or merely an inevitability? After all, the bird brought truth — it painted Jean as the villain she must’ve been, showed the parts of her she tried so desperately to hide. Did Charles know Erik had to die? Was that why he sent their daughter, instead of facing off on the battleline himself?

Did Charles know just how much this would hurt?

Anger, bitter and curling in her gut, had a brief flash of vindication as the silo filled with red — and then it was like the air was knocked from her lungs. She heard a screeching, loud and desperate and animalistic, felt something pulled from her chest and saw it in the centre of their circle like a flickering candle, like a flame that never went out.

A flame that could be injured. A flame that wasn’t running through her veins, wasn’t blocking her emotions, wasn’t feeding that fire of rage that had been building since Kara, since Lorna’s revelation, since she walked in and saw weapons of mass destruction pointed towards the very people they promised to co-exist peacefully with.

This was Jean Grey. Authentic. Unchanged. She sucked in a breath of charged air, blinked to remove the specks of light from her vision, and saw Erik lying before her.

Jean Grey. Authentic, unchanged, alone for the first time since she was eighteen years old. Devastated.

The power left her legs, and the skin on her knees tore as she scrambled towards him, hands bunching in the front of Erik’s shirt.

(There was dancing around his office. There were kisses pressed to the top of her head, whispered promises of safety. There were lessons of self acceptance, lessons he’d never been able to finish before they splintered. There was that absence, huge, gaping, constantly a source of pain and desperation that fuelled their confrontations. There was relief when he smiled at her in that restaurant, in the hundreds of conversations since.

She would miss him until her dying day.)

Jean’s shaking hands moved to hover over his chest, telekinesis knitting the wound that burned red together. A medic’s instinct — a trained propensity towards healing, towards fixing problems that appeared before her. A daughter’s last act, because Jean knew Erik Lehnsherr needed to die. She knew that.

It just hadn’t occurred to her that he needed to be dead.

(Death wasn’t peaceful. Jean knew this. Death meant being alone in a white, hot room, watching the rest of the world carry on in your absence. Death meant constructing visions, knowing there was no tangibility to them. Death meant being alone, and she never wanted him to be alone. There was a screeching, and this time it was her.)

Jean leaned down, trembling fingers touching against his face. He wasn’t cold, but he would be soon. He would be cold and covered in dirt, and there would be no fight or fury or argument or pounding hearts. There would be no handcrafted music boxes or father to dance with on her wedding anniversary.

A tear dripped onto his cheek, and Jean rested her forehead against his. “I’ll keep you warm,” she whispered, voice barely more than a breath. He could hear her, though. She had to believe that. (She had to be good enough, had to be loud enough, for him to hear her just one more time.) “You’re just asleep, Dad. It won’t be too long, and I’ll come. Promise.”

Soldiers didn’t die of old age. Erik always knew that.

She wrapped her arms around him just as the Force returned to her, body bracing for impact and still being taken off guard. Cracks appeared in her skin, exposed arms and hands glowing orange, and she heard the whisper.

Pray to me, Jean Grey. We can bring him back.

She was so much stronger than she had been, no longer in pieces. Through tear-filled eyes, Jean looked up at Scott, heart thudding hard when she saw he was still standing — and the same with her sister. Her sister, the machination, still alive. Maddie was real.

And Erik was dead.

Jean lay down by his side, arm around his waist. The embers flickered against his still body, but they didn’t enter. They didn’t raise him.

“I can’t use her,” Jean whispered, again to Erik. (He couldn’t hear her. Her abilities showed no aura, no pulse in his neck. He was gone, but she talked regardless. He was in the dark, and in all the times Jean had died she’d never been able to see Annie again, never been able to find her. But she wouldn’t stop trying.) “This one is on me.”

The Phoenix moved for her grief, for the guilt, and Jean turned her away. She wanted to feel it all.

He feels nothing now. Why must you suffer?

The bird still had so much to learn. (That was exactly why.)(edited)

MADDIE: Red bled into Maddie’s vision, a bright light that filled the silo and painted a picture that was inevitable, but no one wanted to see. Red turned to spotty blackness as all air was zapped from the woman’s lungs. There was an almost peacefulness to the quiet nothingness that washed over Maddie for a long moment. She couldn’t explain it, why she felt like something had splintered, cracks in the foundation that were spidering out. She didn’t know what was happening; why she felt like she had died alongside Erik.

There was nothing, inky blackness wrapping around her like a shock blanket and leaving her numb.

Was this grief? Was this nothingness to protect herself or something entirely else, wrong and foreign? Alongside a screeching that Maddie swore was so, so close but so very far away at the same time.

There was nothing to feel in this vast empty Maddie could feel herself in. No bitterness at how she knew she should be feeling a certain way, a regret or a trickle of grief to follow what had happened. There was nothing. She should feel something. Erik was a good man despite it all, a great man even. The closest thing to a dad Maddie could call, accepting her as the rest of the family had without too many questions. .

On the other hand, Maddie was filled with entirely too many of them. Was the emptiness because of the growing disconnect from those she was calling family? That when they were in the same room as her she felt like there was a silent, but clear divide between them and her? Was she the one who had put that line there or had it manifested itself? She had too many questions and no answers, a craving to find as many answers as she could without fracturing what fragile balance existed between them all.

There wasn’t much longer Maddie could linger on it in the darkness when she was forced back to the present with a rush of something slamming back into her. Air filled her lungs as her fingers twitched and she saw fiery cracks in her skin slowly fade away. Her eyes flickered over to Erik on the floor and Jean moving to lay down beside him. The quietness in the room felt deafening.

“Jean…” Maddie said softly, unsure even what she wanted to say, what she could say. Her heart should be breaking, should be filled with the grief that she saw painted over her sister’s own face. Instead, she felt nothing.

Moving towards the pair, Maddie carefully sat down on the floor behind Jean. Her fingers brushed over red hair, carefully stroking over the strands and staying silent amongst the grief. Comfort she could try, despite the pain she knew was filling every inch of the room.

SCOTT: There was a split second, when tragedy struck, where nothing happened at all. It was the moment after you jumped from the plane but before the parachute caught you, the moment after the blood blossomed over the stomach of the girl you loved but before she hit the ground, the moment after the bullet tore through your chest but before the pain struck you. The moment after you opened your eyes, but before that red blast faded. It was too late to turn back, in that moment. The terrible thing had already happened. There was no stopping it, no pulling it back in. You couldn’t go back to the plane, couldn’t force a heart to beat, couldn’t stop the blood from filling up your lungs. You couldn’t stop the blast from landing. You couldn’t make that moment last. In that split second, things were okay, but that split second always ended. The tragedy always clawed its way to the surface.

And this was no different.

Erik fell. There was no grace to it, no beauty. It was quick and unceremonious and violent, because death always was. No one ever looked pretty when they died. No one ever looked at ease. Death was a tsunami, a hurricane, a horrible and dreadful thing that put a pit in your stomach and filled you with a cold unease. Erik fell, and Scott sucked a breath. It felt like there was something hot was in his chest. When he exhaled, he pushed it out. He didn’t mean to, didn’t intend to. He might wonder, later, if he would have exhaled had he known what he would lose. He might wonder if he could have held it inside of him forever if he’d only held his breath. He might wonder if he’d wanted to. But wondering, in the end, rarely did anyone any good.

Scott exhaled. Erik’s body hit the ground. Jean fell to her knees. And everything slammed into him at once. .

The heat left him, like a forest fire exiting his lungs. He gasped a breath, desperate and drowning, and when he exhaled the fire he inhaled the smoke. Everything came rushing back to him all at once. There was no more cold voice in his head whispering to him about what needed to be done. There was no more strange disconnect from how he felt. There was no more icy anger chilling his veins. There was no more Phoenix. Instead, there was Scott. There was Scott, in a room with three people he loved and one of them was on the ground. There was Scott, with his eyes still burning red. There was Scott, feeling everything all at once.

Grief, when it was thick enough, became a tangible thing. It thickened the air around it, made it heavy and hot. It settled onto your chest, curled its hands around your throat. It suffocated you. It shoved your head underwater, held you there until your kicking stopped and the bubbles ceased to escape to the surface. It killed you piece by bloody piece, and Scott hadn’t had many pieces left. He’d already been shattered. But now…

Erik’s body was in the floor, and Scott had put it there. Jean was crouched over him with Maddie at her side, their grief as tangible as his own. In New York, there were graves with the Greys names all lined up side by side, and they had hated him but there had been a time when they hadn’t. There had been a time where they’d invited him to dinner, where they had accepted him. Derry was in a house in Genosha, and she didn’t know who he was. Lorna was in a hospital bed, fighting for her life. Scott had died, had been buried, had come back wrong. Erik was dead. Erik was dead, Erik was dead. And Scott was feeling it all at once. He was underwater, he was drowning, and he didn’t know if he wanted to make it to the surface. He didn’t know if he deserved to. .

His legs didn’t give out underneath him, and this felt wrong. It felt unnatural, like the tree in the forest that grew sideways, parallel to the ground. There shouldn’t be anything holding it up. Gravity should have an easy task pushing it the rest of the way down, but it stood. It stood still and unnatural and wrong, and you kept thinking that someone was going to take an axe to it one day just to finish the goddamn job but no one ever did and it stayed there. Scott stayed on his feet but he shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have.

He thought Jean might have been talking. He thought Maddie might have been, too. He didn’t think either of them were speaking to him, and he didn’t know how to tune back into the world to find out. The grief was so heavy, and without the Phoenix’s cold rage in his veins, there was nothing to distract from it. There was nothing to turn to. There was grief and there was nothing else. There was no room for anything else.

(He remembered, again, the way Jean spoke of the Phoenix. He remembered how she’d told him it maximized your emotions, made them so big that the world couldn’t expand to hold them. He wondered how his felt bigger without it. He wondered how the world could possibly be vast enough to fit this much anguish, how the weight of it hadn’t knocked the planet off its axis, how the world could still turn when Erik was dead and Scott had killed him. He wondered how anything would ever move passed this moment. He wondered if they might just stay like this forever.)

The world was somehow both quieter and louder with the Phoenix gone, contradiction waiting around every bend, and Scott didn’t recognize the presence of another person in the room until the door slammed shut. He didn’t feel her approach, didn’t sense her coming, didn’t notice anything but his grief and Jean’s grief and Maddie’s grief and the way it all flowed through the bond like a river trying to go in three directions at once. .

(And had he been in a better frame of mind, he might have recognized something different about that third stream. Had he been able to focus on anything but his head underwater, he might have wondered why the things coming from Maddie felt so different than the rest.)

He turned back when he felt her, used all the strength he had just to tear his gaze away from the floor, from Jean, from Maddie, from Erik. His heart seized in his chest, and that tsunami, that hurricane, it hit him all over again. “Lorna.”

(He choked on her name. It felt more like an apology than a word, more like guilt than a person. Like her name was the closest thing to sorry his voice could manage.)

LORNA: She was drowning. Her limbs as heavy as lead, useless to her as she sank like a stone, but the pain in her chest had far less to do with the water she’d gasped in and more to do with the hole that had been punched through her. And then she’d thought it was over. Lorna had thought about death before. How she’d die, when she’d die. If she wanted to. There had been times when she’d imagined it would be something like this, taken out by hateful humans she’d picked a fight with. Or who’d picked a fight with her. She hadn’t thought it would be tonight. 

And then it wasn’t. Then there was that brief moment of air before darkness swallowed her back up again like it had under the water. But her heart beat on, struggling at first but beating nonetheless. Lorna, none the wiser. 

Until now. 

Darkness and pain were the last things she remembered. Only fitting that darkness and pain be the first things she was aware of now. The pain was far more dulled now, no longer consuming her as it had been. She lay there, in the darkness, for a few moments, as she slowly rose out of unconsciousness. Finally, a week after they’d closed, her eyes blinked open. 

As soon as she did, it was like her other senses flipped a switch. The beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the oxygen machine filled her ears. She could smell the antiseptics used to keep her wounds clean overlaying the smells of Erik’s house and her room here. While the blankets were familiar and reassuring–far more so than a hospital would’ve been–the mask on her face and the drip in her arm suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Lorna turned her head to find an empty chair. One that was not usually placed by this bed. A vigil left empty?

She struggled to sit up, inhaling sharply at the pain that any movement in her chest caused. Never one to not be stubborn, Lorna still managed, and pulled the oxygen mask from her face. She could breathe without it now. The drip, she was a little more hesitant to touch. Better to wait for Jean. Lorna trusted that Jean wouldn’t force her to keep it if it wasn’t needed. The heart monitor didn’t like when she tried to take that off her finger and Lorna didn’t know how to turn it off–bar simply using her powers to knock it out–so that stayed too. Instead, Lorna leant back against pillows, wondering how long she would lie here before anyone would know she was awake. 

No more than a minute could have passed before she felt it. A shock wave washed through her, one of magnetic energy. Magnetic energy that was far too familiar. Something was wrong. She knew it in her gut. It startled her back up, ignoring the pain. Lorna had to find out what had happened. She pulled the heart monitor from her finger and the IV from her arm, paying no mind to the bleeding nor the way the monitor protested. Her bare feet hit the carpet, and by all accounts she should have not felt as steady on them as she did. Something fueled her, filling her with a strength she should not yet have back. The thought crossed her mind for a moment, but the siren call of that magnetic pulse was too much to ignore.  

It screamed wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Something was wrong.

That feeling carried her out of the house, pulling her like a compass to north. Neither the shock of cool air on her skin nor the damp grass beneath her bare feet even slowed her down. Her powers reached out ahead of her, trying to search for what it was that felt like the world was turning upside down. And why it felt so familiar. Like she’d been here before. Like she’d felt this before. 

Later, Lorna would come to realise she had known before she even got to the silos what she would find. Not the specifics, but her powers let her view the world as electromagnetic signals. People gave off their own energies, energies she mostly tried to ignore for the sake of her sanity living in a city as massive as New York. Some people’s energies were stronger and more familiar to her. 

One was practically just an inversion of her own.  

It was that one she had felt from her bedroom, echoing out like a shock wave. Like the aftershocks of an explosion. And if she had stopped to reach for it now, she would have known. She would have felt nothing. Well, not nothing. Even dead bodies felt like something. Lorna knew that all too well. But not the energy she needed to find.

She came to the door of the silo, footsteps practically silent. Her voice was stolen from her chest as she finally found the source of the explosion. 

Lorna stood in shock. She could barely see the way Jean grieved or Maddie comforted her or Scott stood still. All she could see was him. Erik. Dead. Not dying as she had been when Rictor brought her back, not an avenging force as he had been when he found her in the forest twenty years ago. Dead. If she could even notice anything else, she would’ve felt how that strength that had carried her here seemed to grow amongst the grief. If that grief had not been so overwhelming.

Without speaking, she reached a hand out. Metal scraped against the concrete ground, echoing in the quiet. Erik’s helmet flew from his body to her outstretched hand, where Lorna clutched it tight. The door slammed shut behind her, echoing in the heavy silence. 

Her eyes finally moved from Erik to find Maddie, then Jean, then Scott. Her eyes stayed on him, the smoking gun that was Erik’s body giving her all the evidence she needed. 

“Scott. What the fuck have you done?”